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Part 2 of Hero Class Villain AU
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2018-11-28
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2022-09-26
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10/?
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Hero Class Danger Days

Summary:

The Hero Class Civil War is over, but the shadows cast and the actions taken echo.
Inspiration and new friendships bloom in the aftermath, and new challenges arise to face the Hero Classes of UA, regardless of what side they took.
But while everyone learns and grows, some fight to stay on their path.
While in the dark, things begin to shift and prepare.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Wake up, Keyser Soze

Chapter Text

 

“Are you okay, Kacchan?”

Bright green eyes and hair, leaning over him as the smaller boy grinned, holding out his hand.

From his side, he reached up… and slapped the hand away.

“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!”

He shouted, eyes shut as he yelled.

And when he opened them, he was no longer sitting in a cold riverbed.

He stood in a street, fire and smoke suffocating around him as the invasive scent of slime washed over him, his arms being drawn and dragged back as slime reached around and into his face, trying to push into his mouth.

He struggled, and out of the smoke and flames, he saw it, a gleaming pair of green eyes, before blinking. It wasn’t slime choking him, but a hand reaching out of a hellstorm of black smoke and flames.

 

It was a black-gloved hand reaching out and holding him aloft. He could feel the thumb and fingers tightening the hollow of his throat even as he reached up and began to scrabble at the grip.


The smoke billowed and he began to panic, before he saw gleaming green eyes, staring at him not with that pity…

 

But with hate .

 

“I should have let you die… Kacchan.”

The voice was cutting, ice cold and menacing.

“It would have saved quite a few people the trouble.”

 

The smoke cleared, billowing not around, but behind, like shimmering black silk.

“You want to be number one? With me around, you will always be…”

 

His gaze began to flutter, black and green seeming to creep around the edges of his vision as that cold face smiled, cheerfully.

“Nothing but a pebble in the road.”

 

Bakugou shot up, smelling the acrid sweet scent of nitroglycerine as his cold sweat hit the air. His sleep shirt was soaked clear through, and the sweat left a dark stain through his sheets to the blast-proof mattress beneath them. Scowling at the mess, he quickly stripped the sheets from his bed and tossed the soaked cloth into a metal pot from under his bed, opening and pouring a small bottle of neutralizer over them to keep the explosive sweat from turning his room into a bomb, before tossing the bottle to join a dozen others in the trash.

 

Grumbling to himself he grabbed a new sheet from the closet and walked to make his bed again, glancing at his phone to see the glaring 2:34 AM on his lock screen.

 

It was less than 24 hours since the end of that stupid excuse for a midterm exam. Since he and his team had lost…

 

‘It was just a dream….’

 

He ran a hand through blonde hair, scowling at the sweat that soaked his hand before sighing and tossing the bundle of sheets down on the bed, before turning to go take a shower to wash the explosives off.

“... Right?”


 

*Bzzzt*



“Ugggghhhhh.”

 

*Bzzzt*

 

A hand reached out from under blue covers and smacked around the nightstand before finding and closing around the buzzing phone.

 

He glanced to see that he was getting notifications from–

 

The group chat?

Fumbling with his phone, he quickly opened the app even as he rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes.



Hero Class VIllains:

#general-chaos

Drugs: @Kingpin


Kingpin is now Online

Larceny: Listen, we just have to wait for the boss

Hacker: @Kingpin


Hacker: Oh, he’s awake! finally!

Kingpin: Okay, okay, I’m up. What is going on and why am I getting pinged?

ConMan: Not My Fault.

Kingpin: ...Shinsou. I’ve stayed up with you to three in the morning before. You really wanna proclaim your innocence?

ConMan: ...Yeah, I wouldn’t believe it either.

Drugs: KINGPIN! Listen, we were totally talking about keeping the chat open so we can hang out and talk more, and that means that we can get closer to each other despite being in opposite classes and work on even better super combos!

Kingpin: ...And why was I being pinged?

Nightmare: Because you rule this realm of chaos and dark intent with a loose yet iron clad gauntlet of intent and drive.

Blackout: And because you’re the person in the chat with mod privileges.

Kingpin: ...

Kingpin has modded @ConMan, @Forgery, @Larceny.

Kingpin: Go wild. Keep the chaos to a low simmer, and please, just don’t ping me all the time? Its like 5 in the morning and I wanted to sleep in. I feel tenderized.



Sighing, Izuku pocketed his phone in his pajama bottoms and headed to the bathroom. Since he was already awake, he might as well get ready for the day. Class was in just under three hours, a headstart wouldn’t hurt anyone.

 

He was halfway through scrubbing his teeth before he checked his phone again, checking the fairly slow progression of the conversation.



Blackout: sure… actually, who the hell else is awake right now? And why . It is 5 AM.

 

Larceny: street racers outside.

ConMan : insomnia.

 

Hacker : I was fixing all our gear from the exercise!

 

Larceny: ...wait. are you still at UA?

 

Nightmare: I thrive in the shadows of the night…and Dark Shadow wanted to watch the full moon.

 

Drugs: I got up half an hour ago! And felt like watching horror movies. I'm halfway through the first Alien movie right now.

 

Hacker: ...I refuse to confirm.

 

Kingpin: Mei…please sleep.

 

ConMan: wow. That's odd coming from mister ‘no sleep till we make you sleep’

 

Kingpin: shut it gucci-eyebags.

 

ConMan: Fair, but at the same time.

ConMan: Rude.

 

Kingpin: Anyway, I’m off to exercise and fight off my existential dread of confrontation that stems from thinking of talking with my friends who were on the Hero Team.

Kingpin: See you all at school.


Closing the app, Izuku slid his phone back in his pocket and spat the last of the toothpaste out, before heading back to his room. He could get a solid jog in before taking a shower and helping his mom with breakfast.

In the back of his mind, he did worry about how classes would go today.




Monoma growled to himself as he marched through the halls to the support classroom, taking the familiar turn at speed and only barely dodging Power Loader.

Staggering Monoma quickly regained his balance and gave a swift bow. “Ah, Sensei. Apologies, but I need to go deal with my friend–”

Power Loader interrupted his explanation, the engineer crossing his arms. “Hatsume? Yeah, I know she’s here. If you can get her to sleep it’d be appreciated. She’s got the first few periods with me and I’m more than willing to let her rest after her performance this weekend.”

“Ah, thank you, sir! I think I have just the thing!” Monoma rummaged in his pocket even as he headed back down the hallway towards Mei’s workshop. By the time he was at the door, he had found what he was looking for, a simple purple ring with black circles engraved across it. Pulling it on and testing it, he felt the familiar surge of power that told him that he had an active copy. Considering that the General Studies classroom were less than half a building away from where he stood, that was solid confirmation that Shinsou was already in class.

Grinning he stepped inside the workshop, seeing Mei covered in grime and standing on the bed of the ‘Gun-Truck’, the four-barreled turret all but dismantled around her as she inspected the internal supports.

 

Sighing to himself, he slid his hands in his pockets and sauntered around the half torn apart carcasses of several other pieces of gear, including the jet propulsions of Ki– Izuku’s dirt bike. Which was itself sitting mostly intact and stripped down nearby.

 

“Yo, MEI!” he called out, watching as the pink haired genius perked up.

“Ah, LARCEN–” She cut off, eyes glazing even as she looked his direction.

“Sorry about this, Hacker. Please clean up and wipe down yourself,” Monoma requested, trying to stay polite and leaning against a work counter. As Mei automatically moved to a sink in the corner and began to wipe herself down, he eyed the scattered and pulled apart RG13 guns. And what appeared to be Mei’s rifle, that covered the counter.

 

After a few moments, he judged that Mei looked mostly clean and had wiped down any major grease stains on her face and arms.

“Mei, come lay down on the beanbag.”


As the pinkette passed by him he hummed, and snagged a marker, before following.

After Mei lay on the beanbag, Monoma told her to sleep, and pulled out her phone.

Luckily. He was one of a half dozen people in the villain team who knew her phone’s password for security and emergency purposes. It was the work of half a minute to set an alarm for a few hours. Sliding it back in her pocket, he popped the cap on the marker and put ink to skin across her arms.

Grinning, he capped it and nodded at his work, before tossing a blanket over the genius’s form and heading to find Power Loader.

Behind him, Mei snored softly.

 


 

Todoroki entered the room and looked around the still nearly empty classroom, seeing only Iida already in his seat. Giving a nod to the speedster, he rolled his shoulders and moved to his seat. He was…anxious. When he had arrived home the day before, Fuyumi had informed him that Endeavor was out on a job that would take the rest of the day. In fact, Endeavor had only returned home early this morning, and was still asleep when Shouto left the house. But sooner or later, there would be a confrontation he was really not looking forward to.

 

Sighing, he focused back on his desk, losing himself in thought. It was almost ten minutes later when he glanced up to see the door opening, and the rest of the class begin filing through.

The tension slowly built, the hero team looking sullen, the villians on edge, as they sat and fidgeted in their seats.

 

Only five minutes before class started, Bakugou stormed in, glaring and all but daring people to comment on the slightly dark bags that were sitting under his eyes. He stormed over and threw himself into his seat, crossing his arms and glaring out the window as the clock winded down.

 

And than just a minute before class started in full, Izuku walked through the door, one hand holding the strap to his bag in a white knuckled grip, and the other hand carding through his mess of a hairstyle as he sat quietly behind Bakugou, eyes averted from everyone’s faces.

 

Before anyone could speak up and talk to him, the door slammed open one last time, and Aizawa walked into the room. He had a folder full of notes and packets under one arm, and a thermos of coffee in the other.

“Listen up. Today, we are going to review everything you did right in the exercise,” Aizawa barely looked the student’s way, already picking up a piece of chalk and dragging it across the board.

On one side of the chalkboard he wrote ‘right’.

“And then, we’re going to talk about everything you did wrong.” The word soon mirrored its predecessor. The two boards sat in their mostly-empty glory behind him as Aizawa turned with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Aizawa pointed to the first in line. “Heroes! You lost so you go last. We start with our victors, the villains. What did you notice.”

“We were more prepared?” Ashido spoke up, nervously.

“Indeed you were.” With quick motions he wrote that down. “The villain team took full advantage of their preptime. From scouting out the location ahead of time, to gear and basic operating procedure. As well as some fairly simple tactics and teamwork exercises.”

 

Ojiro raised his hand sheepishly “The guns?”

 

Mineta flinched behind Izuku from the reminder, even as Aizawa nodded a maybe.

“Equipment was a deciding factor. And the guns were quite a powerful equalizer,” he said as he wrote ‘equipment’. “Now...what did the villains do wrong?”

 

For a moment, there was silence, before Izuku himself spoke up.

“We had an issue with taunting our opponents.” Izuku seemed to shrink in on himself. “While making the heroes angry helped keep them predictable, it made us complacent and unprepared for when they did act differently than expected”

Aizawa marked it down. “Given I know for a fact that you and several other members of your team were deep in method acting, it was expected.”

Shoto glanced to noticed Izuku tense and stammer. “Uhh, that and the masks and Shinsou helped keep character.”

 

Shoto blinked and resolved to ask… and apparently he wasn't the only one.

“Wait, what do you mean keep character?” Mineta shouted, “I got shot. You were terrifying .”

Izuku tensed and stammered a bit, before getting his words out. “S– shinsou helped give us orders to keep us in character when we had scripted lines or actions over the comms! And, uh, the masks help by changing voice pitches so we sounded right! I had several near panic attacks trying to say the script without his help.”

 

Shoto felt his eyes widen as realization passed over him.


‘Was it all… just acting? Or is he implying... thats fucking terrifying."


 

Hero Class VIllains:

#School-Gossip


Kingpin is now Online

Kingpin: @Conman

ConMan: What.

Kingpin: I…may have just thrown you under the bus.

 

Kingpin: I may have implied that you brainwashed us to help us stay in character in the CW.

 

ConMan: …why?

 

Kingpin: Panic.


ConMan: …Fair.

ConMan: You Owe Me.

Kingpin: ...I really do.

Chapter 2: Shifted Out of Old Alignments

Summary:

As classes resume, people try to fall back into old places and don't quite fit.

Chapter Text

 

Hitoshi Shinsou drifted away from the crowd of General Ed students as they filed out of the last class of the day before lunch. Checking his phone, he saw that the villain chat was mostly quiet after his and Izuku's little talk earlier, though Mina had apparently posted a few pics of a half-asleep Kaminari a few minutes ago. Sighing, he slid his phone away in his pocket as he considered where to eat lunch. He got a few more meters down the hall and past another intersection when he felt a pair of presences behind him before an arm was slung over his shoulder from one side, and the other was flanked by a somber presence.

“Heya, Boss the second. Wanna hang with us at lunch?” Yosetsu’s voice and demeanor were excited but banked. More of just his general aura of relaxed energy than the focused drive he had been extruding during the exam. But on his other side, Sen’s somber presence filled his space.

“Yosetsu, relax. He can go where he likes,” shifting slightly, Sen met his eyes with a calm no-bullshit look. “But we would like you to join us if you want. Might help keep Monoma from getting annoying. If Setsuna doesn’t distract him anyway.”

 

Hitoshi cocked an eyebrow at the cohorts in crime. ‘Why do I perceive ulterior motives?”

“Cause you are a wise man–”

“–smart man–”

“”Mister Con Man!””

 

Despite himself, Hitoshi can’t help but chuckle.


Setsuna groaned into her arms as she flopped down at the lunch table.

“I feel so goddamn stupid.” She groaned.

“There, there, mon amie, It was not quite your fault as I know it. Our masterminds played you like a well-tuned piano.” the blonde form of Aoyama was leaning with his back to the table, an apple half eaten in his hand as he carved slices from it with a gleaming silver and black switchblade, a keepsake from the war that he never quite got to use.

 

“But it was so fucking obvious!”   Setsuna moaned into her arms. “And I’ve had to deal with Sensei bringing it up multiple times today, and I swear I’m going to be his go-to pick for any demonstrations for the next year .

“Hindsight is a great horror to face. You thought you could play the system. Instead, you got sacrificed as a pawn by the players.” The low rumble of the comment made Setsuna glare up over her arms at one of the other 1B members at the table, one bright green eye visible from under her bangs. Kuroiro met her gaze, still calmly consuming a bowl of black noodles and fried squid. “However, you should not despair. Your skills shall be honed by the torture you shall face.”

 

“Gee. That's not menacing at all.” she frowned, before catching sight of another person who she wanted to commiserate with. As such, her left hand detached at her wrist and stood on its fingers as it skittered across the table.

 

“What a mad banquet of darkness.” Kuroiro murmured as he slurped down a piece of squid.

 

“Eat your bowl of Lovecraft and die Kuro.”

 

“Hmmph.”

 

Soon enough, Monoma sat beside her and Aoyama, who was now carving the core of his apple with smooth strokes of the blade. As Monoma’s tray was set down, the sight of Setsuna’s hand wiggled its thanks from the edge and hurried back to its owner.

“I am still annoyed that I can’t control detached body parts like that.” Monoma frowned even as he began to dig into the dish of fish and rice he had grabbed from the lunchline.

 

“Acquired skill Monoma. It's hell to pull off too. Took years to be able to direct them while they were off my body, and even then it’s a bitch to do.” She sighed and tilted her head, hair falling to reveal the blank flesh where her left eye should have been, before it zipped down from the ceiling and slid back into place, before blinking rapidly.

 

“Ah, now I remember why we are friends.” Kuroiro gave a sagacious nod. “Because you are a creepy bitch.”

 

From under the table, Dark Shadow peeked up around the edge and eyed Kuroiro. The bird-like entity leaning close to the dark-skinned teen.

“Message for ya.”

 

Slurping up a bundle of noodles slowly, Kuroiro eyed the quirk. “...Proceed.”

 

“Message starts: “Stop saying ‘What a mad banquet of darkness’. That's my line” Message ends.”

 

Setsuna burst out in giggles even as Monoma chuckled.

Grinning, Kuroiro pulled out a lemon. “Message back, ‘My meme now Poe.’ The message ends.“

Dark Shadow nodded with glee, and snagged the lemon between its beak, before sliding back under the table and darting away.

“I almost want to ask about the lemons.”

 

“He likes to throw them at people being stupid. It’s funny.”


Mei yawned and levered herself up to a sitting position, blinking sleepily as she tried to take in what was going on around her.

 

She was in her workshop, her phone was beeping, which she guessed was what woke her. Fumbling she grabbed at it as she tried to think about what she was doing last. Thumbing her phone open she saw there were black marks up her arm, tilting it to get the right angle revealed words! Yay.

You needed sleep. PL-sensei knows. Contact him when you get up,
With concern -N.Monoma

 

“Aww, that was sweet.” She grinned, feeling happy for concern, before pushing herself to her feet and stretching.

 

Getting up and twisting to stretch some more, she decided to go track down sensei.


As the final bell rang, Momo stretched and closed up her folders of notes and papers from the day, almost every class had been review and commentary of the low and high points of the exam. She was very happy that at brunch the day before, the villain team had spoken on and off about what worked and what didn't for their tactics, which was good prep for the reviews from the teachers. They went over topics from the effectiveness of using the sewers and the various quirks to travel through the city, to the general disarray of when things went wrong in actual heists. She was fairly confident that for their experience levels the villains, and even most of the heroes, performed admirably, if not exceptionally.


She glanced across at Izuku, noticing he looked distracted as he filed his composition books away.

 

She had been trying to act more as she had before the exam, all the ‘villains’ were. It was hard though. The feelings of being in control, of fighting on that razor's edge of intent and focus. She had learned so many new tips and tricks over the last week and a half. From Mei’s insane designs and tools that she now had stored away in her mind to Izuku’s references on material sciences and designs. The ideas of molecular structures inside the details of her creation, the spacing and gaps that she could get away with to lighten the load and lessen the costs. All things she had dabbled in, but only now was truly beginning to grasp. And she knew she wasn’t the only one who had learned these tricks.


Monoma had learned more than just power and skill, Izuku had all but forced him to face his own perspective and kill his prejudice. Instead of that same poisonous idea of having to be better than his allies, Izuku had pushed being better than your enemy. And that meant being kinder as well as smarter and stronger. For Shinsou, Izuku had pushed knowledge and planning, the use of deception as a tool, not as a goal. Shoji was given technique to balance power, and all of them were taught that simple tools and assets could be game changers. From the guns to explosives to even just a nice outfit at the right time.

 

Momo could tell though, that despite the upgrades and changes they already have, that something about Izuku was looking farther ahead. That Izuku was seeing all these crazy ideas and was already linking them to a bigger picture. She just didn’t know what the final picture he saw was.

 

She wasn’t sure he knew either.

 

Finished with her gear, she fell into step as her classmates fled from the room, some talking and relaxing with each other. She was surprised however when Shoji tapped on her shoulder.

“Yaoyorozu, a moment of your time?”


Izuku sighed as he stepped into the sunlight, only to suddenly tense as an arm wrapped over his shoulders.

 

“Ah, Jiro?” he blinked as the usually reserved musician dragged her with him off to the side of the path.

 

“You seem tense soft-rock, what’s on your mind?” She asked, only now showing that she was moving him towards Koji who was looking worried and was currently cuddling up to a small grey and black bunny.

“Just… aftermath, I guess. Trying to fit back in after what we, what I, did.” Izuku muttered, stretching arms up and behind him as he looked at the sky. As such he missed both Koji and Kyoka exchanging an eyeroll.

“Think fast.” Koda natural high pitch caught Izuku’s attention just before the rabbit bounded up from taller teens outstretched arms and landed on the greenette’s shoulder. Staggering slightly under the unexpected weight, Izuku quickly began to giggle and laugh as the bunny nuzzled around the collar of his shirt and the whiskers tickled his face.

 

Jiro and Koda watched with smiles even as the third member of the little side crew that was here to cheer up Izuku leaned around a nearby tree, Kendo’s bright orange hair pulled back in a braid as she smiled. “Seems that worked.”

They looked over as the rabbit crawled up into the bird's nest that was Izuku's hair and sat down, the teen still giggling slightly.

“Better, Izuku?”

“Yeah. Thanks!”


Nedzu sipped at his tea and paged through the ‘Stage Directions’ Notebook once more. Honestly, he was kicking himself for overlooking young Izuku’s mind before now, despite any circumstances or reasons why. He was also vaguely annoyed that neither Toshinori or Shota had informed him of the extent of the young man's intelligence, instead of merely his morals or drive.

 

Looking through the book was enlightening. Particularly when compared to the actual event itself and how it had gone. The modular planning was nothing particularly new, Operation guidelines and rules of engagement had been core parts of tactical planning and operations for centuries, going back through the World Wars, and Reaching further back than Sun Tzu. Indeed, the very start of human history was based on simple tactics of hunting and gathering.

But even if the methodology was nothing new, the layout and focus were revealing. Several pages were graphs and layout for whether to engage in a fight or flee, something that was perfectly suited for the exam, but nigh unheard of in real life combat. Very rarely would a villain or hero disengage from a fight merely based on the matchup of who was on each side. With the possible exception of facing All Might, who scared off more villains than most. It was more likely they would fight, and only retreat after injury or exhaustion. The idea of not even engaging unless you had the upper hand was more in line with the sorta combat doctrine one would expect from special forces or infiltration teams.

 

Or possibly a guerrilla warfare style engagement.

 

Moving on from that was the assessments of individual members of both teams, a solid third of the book dedicated to it. Each hero had a list of basic counters and tactics, things to use and say that would either confuse or anger them. Lists of general tactics to counter or avoid use.

All in all, it was accurate, but not quite special. The true gold of the analyses was the breakdown and notation of the villain team members. From power limitations to creative uses and notes about what to experiment with, to gear ideas that were listed as too expensive or time-consuming to incorporate, to the simple facts that every member of the villains needs some form of ranged attack, and backup weapon for when they get countered

 

The fact that most of these were guns was simply noted to be due to ease of manufacture.

Moving on to the plans for the city themselves, most of them were based on team compositions. Koda Koji, Jiro Kyoka, and Mei Hatsume were placed on recon and target identification, while the rest was on entrenching themselves in the city proper. Expanding the sewer system into target buildings, building catches of gear and setting up their rather audacious headquarters.

 

The opening combat was also chosen carefully. Both to gauge the Hero teams compositions and keep them as spread out and disorganized as possible.

 

The rest of the book were lists of possible tactics, from the False sacrifice of Monoma and the double-crossed Setsuna to various versions of the messages sent to the hero team. There were other plans too. Terrorist bombing random civilian buildings, setting the city on fire, collapsing streets and buildings. Ideas for false flags and red herrings from insulting Graffiti and mutilated civil-bots strung up in back alleys, to a proposed car chase through the city.

 

Finishing his latest reread of the book, Nedzu opened up the class schedules of the students and began to plan.

 

If his students were willing to specialize as they did in the exercise, he would gladly encourage it. Far too many heroes tried too hard to be generalists, instead of playing to their strengths. He would not implement his new schedules just yet, that could wait until after the summer break. But he would begin planning out how to proceed.

He sipped his tea and laughed maniacally into his cup. Oh, what a generation these students would be.

 

And what a rising star young Izuku Midoriya could become.



Chapter 3: The New Normal

Summary:

Things begin to click back into place, while new avenues have been opened.

Chapter Text

“Ah, a pleasure to see you here on time!” Inui Ryuo, AKA Pro Hero Hound Dog, grinned at the teen across from him.


“Hiya Teach!” Kaminari grinned, clearly nervous but willing.

“So, you're not the first of the First Years to have a session with me, but you are the first of the, ah,  ‘hero’ side of the class,” Inui gestured into the room, the two of them stepping into his counselor office. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, sit, stand, walk, lean. Whatever you like.”

 

Kaminari paused, before shifting and dropping sideways across a love seat along the wall. Inui took a seat across from him, crossing one ankle over his knee as he leaned back. A moment of silence rang out, before Kaminari nervously asked.

 

“Umm… are we starting?”

“Sure! What would you like to talk about?”

Kaminari blinked, eyes furrowed. “You… you aren’t going to ask me questions? Or anything?”

“Ah, I see the problem. You thought this was going to be a bit of an interrogation sorta thing. A ‘Tell me about your parents’ sorta thing where I poke and prod at you, yeah?” Inui nodded sagely as he reached up and scratched at an ear.

“I mean… aren’t you?” The look of confusion made Inui want to sigh.

 

“Not at all. Kaminari, the exercise you were in and your ‘fake death’ is a yearly ordeal. However, due to the circumstances, not just how the exercise went but also the sheer impact of the USJ incident, this set up, me being on call to talk to and counsel the hero classes, was something that was put on the back burner before the Sports Festival. At the time, the hero class was coping just fine, and you all proved remarkably able to bounce back. It’s only recently that we decided to make a mandatory schedule for all hero course students involved in your Civil War.”

“But… you aren’t gonna ask me things?” Kaminari shifted, one foot hanging down, arms propping him up as he stared confused at Inui.

 

“Well, not right now. We are here so you can talk. Get something off your chest. Yell, scream, play on your phone. Whatever. If you feel comfortable here, then you can do just about anything. I’ll keep it secret.” Kaminari relaxed, and Inui paused before continuing. “But, and this is up to you…. If you want to talk about something. Nightmares… Intrusive thoughts, fears, anxiety, issues with homework… I’ll be here every other week until you graduate.”

Kaminari nodded along and slowly shifted to a sitting position, hands interlaced and fingers rubbing as he looked thoughtful.


“I… I uh… Can I get back to you on some of that?”

“Of course. My door, as long as I’m not in a meeting, is always open. And you can always schedule an extra session if you feel it’s important.”

 

Kaminari nodded and paused. “Uh… Can you help me with my math? The numbers always seem to get jumbled, and it sometimes just looks like they start floating and shifting and–”

Inui smiled softly, leaning forwards. “Of course. Where would you like to start?”

 


 

It was after class, and in one of the reserved sparring rooms, the sounds of metal clanging and grunting echoed.

 

Six short rods danced in formation, each one ringing of a series of tall metal rods raising out of the ground with focused statcato. Shoji was dressed down, only a pair of exercise shirts and a wife beater with the sides torn out adorned his frame. His arms were running through another set of practice Kata, adjusted and tripled to keep him using all arms and completely focused on the act.

 

Momo’s instructions rang in his head, while the girl herself shouted out instructions and advice to another person in the room. Purple hair tied back in a bun, Shinsou was ragged looking in a black pair of sweats and purple exercise shirt, hands wrapped in white exercise tape, his skin slicked with sweat as he panted. In his hands, a long wooden stave, the ends covered with a thin layer of foam and with a heavy weight in the center.

 

“Faster Shinsou! You need to keep the stave up! Remember, you have to guard!” Momo was slowly stepping in a circle around him, forcing him to stay focused and shift his feet to keep her in sight. Her own stave was much smaller and thinner, the ends replaced by pliable rubber to keep from hurting Shinsou. Well, hurting ‘too much’, anyway.

 

“Not quite as easy as it sounds, Yao,” Shinsou grunted, sliding one foot back slowly as he shifted to keep focus on his combat instructor. Speaking up, he spoke to one of the other three people who were using the room, eyes on his opponent. “Izuku. Why am I being tortured again?”

 

“–331, 332– Because you suck in hand to hand and need a weapon to compensate– 341, 342– and cause if you get used to a stave Mei can customize it– 354”

 

“Oh, I almost forgot–” the rapid thud thwip of the two staves clashing as Momo moved in to attack while Shinsou rolled his eyes sarcastically. The conversation was dropped as Shinsou was forced to try and match the smooth elegance of Momo.

 

Legs hooked around a bar hanging from the gymnastics equipment on the ceiling, Izuku, shirt left on the ground, and hands behind his head, was doing upside down crunches.

Around his arms were 150 lbs of weight, each.

 

It was barely slowing him down, as he did 500 rep sets of inverted crunches, before he would drop to the ground and do sets of 500 handstand pushups.

 

The last two in the room were working in a duo along a wall of exercise equipment, each taking turns spotting with the free weights. Monoma was currently dressed in silver and black, arms pumping up and down a 200 weight bar with slow and steady motions, eyes half closed and earbuds blasting some energetic jazz music as he concentrated. Behind him, Kendo had one hand resting loosely on the bar to keep it steady while her other arm was pumping a 70 lb dumbbell.

 

As Izuku finished up his 10th set of crunches he straightened his legs, dropping the five feet to the ground and catching himself, arms already in pushup position as his ankles crossed, the two 75 lb weights on his ankles now visible.

 

Shoji glanced at the scene, before rolling his shoulders, before going through the Kata again.

Faster, smoother. Keep the pace steady’

The ringing of steel on steel picked up once more.

 


 

Snipe stared, or seemed to stare considering his full face mask, at the three teens before him. All of them stared back, arms crossed and the guns they had disassembled on the table.

“Put them back together. 1 minute.”

 

Jirou, Kaibara, and Awase all broke into action. Springs and slides clicking, frames being reassembled, and parts clicked together. Kaibara set his gun down, magazine still left out, quickly followed by Awase and Jirou a few seconds later.

 

Snipe crossed his arms and gave them all a gimlet stare.

 

“Well now… I thought all of you had skills and I was right. See, this course is normally reserved for later years. We don’t quite expect a bunch of youngins like you all to get a jump on things like this. However, you three have applied to complete the gun safety and field use course eight months earlier than expected. Luckily for you all, Nedzu wants to see you learn.”

 

Snipe motioned for them to follow him, taking them out of his personal office and down the hall. A turn took them down a staircase into the first subfloor of the UA main buildings. Concrete floors and reinforced walls greeted them as they followed him to a door marked ‘Gun Range’.

 

“Range hours are four to six Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and noon to four on Saturdays. I, or another gun certified teacher, will be here at all times. You will not use live ammo anywhere else on campus. You will check and mark every bullet fired and taken from the vault. If you fail to do so, if you break Range rules or if you demonstrate poor gun safety, then you will be given one chance. The second strike will remove you from the course. If you want to be certified like you asked, you need 100 hours of time on this range. You will fire over 5,000 rounds under my gaze. You will rebuild and break down any gun I show you a minimum of 50 times each way, under stress, and within one minute.” Snipe leaned in. “I am fine with some jokes and memes in my class. I am fine with comedy and a relaxed air in the classrooms above. But in here I require absolute professionalism and focus.”

The three students met gazes, and eyes hardened. As one, all three stood at attention.

“YES, SENSEI.”

 

Snipe kept his pose…. and then nodded firmly.

“Alright, good. Now, break and build those Goo Guns one more time, and I’ll teach you how to really shoot them.”

 


 

“Sir?” Izuku called out as he looked up from his phone, the email that showed where his new extra class was, instead of his older schedule’s free period.

“AH, Midoriya-san! Glad to see you found the debate hall in time!” The room he was in was large and curved, centered around two large desk like podiums that faced each other. One wall was covered in screens, while the rest of the room was audience seating that rose up and faced the center dias.

At one podium, Principal Nedzu was ensconced, arms moving and the rapid clicking that drew to mind a keyboard echoing in the space. “Please, take the opponent's podium if you will.”

 

Izuku nodded and jogged down the aisle to the dais, leaping up smoothly as he set his school bag under the podium. His eyes traced over the inside of the large wooden lectern. At a glance he could see an integrated computer screen and keyboard, a switchboard for the lights and sounds, a set of microphones and a touchpad for quick digital markings.

 

“Cool set up,” Izuku called, eyes darting from the podium to meet Nedzu’s gleaming eyes. The half light of the dias and the darkness of the outer ring of seats worked together to make the room feel… surreal.

 

“Why don’t you tell my why you think you are here, Izuku– may I call you Izuku?” Nedzu glanced back down, the click-clack of keys resuming smoothly.

“Sure. As for why I’m here...“ Izuku tapped the keyboard, waking up the computer as he began to search through and fiddle with settings. “I’m gonna say it's part of the Civil War exercise’s aftermath. Something about potential, or cross training me? I know for a fact that you prefer to oversee the Management course more personally, and taking time for a solo class with me? Not quite an easy feat. Time is valuable, right?”

 

“Hmm good, very good!” The screens around the room began to flicker on, familiar scenes and recordings playing out. Scenes of the war councils, of the collapsing bank and the hotel, of the final fight. “See, you do have potential. Potential I wish Yagi had brought to me sooner! You exemplify the best traits of a hero! You are charismatic, kind, and loving. But, as seen in the  war, you are not afraid of leaping to action. You have drive, Izuku, something many of our students have in spades, but you also have focus, and an understanding of limits… if not of the body, than of the soul.” The recordings changed with a click of a button. Fights changing to the dinner, to Izuku and the villains meeting up and discussing tactics in the days leading up, to him with his back to a wall and tears in his eyes as Shinsou crouched to comfort him. Of the final day, and his sacrifice.

 

Izuku felt... Uncomfortable with the praise. It still didn’t feel real. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he still waited for the moment Nedzu would turn around to sneer “Just kidding!”, like so many had done before.

“But, for all this potential… you need more direction. More focus and growth.”

 

Izuku’s eyes shot up and met his teacher’s.

“Welcome, Izuku, to your first class of ‘Morals, Tactics, and Politics in Heroics.”

 

And with that, the lessons began.

 


 

Weeks had gone by, and the turmoil of the Civil War was fading faster with each day, though its effects were almost more prominent as time passed.

Shinsou has been feeling some of the weirder side-effects. Namely, that the villains of 1-B had essentially adopted him into their cliques. From the chaos and off-the-walls 3D thinkers in Sen and Awase, to the calm and ever morbid Ghoul Squad. Even the caustic humor of Monoma had faded away to a welcoming, if eternally smug, friend.

It was so weird.

He remembered, year after year, of people being afraid of talking to him. Of being shunned and ignored and pushed away from person after person.

 

And then Izuku started this mass change. It has started weirdly simple. Just two teens with insomnia recognizing each other in a coffee shop at 2 AM. One from nightmares and bad memories. One from the loneliness of a cold and dark night.

And then a month later he was asked to back Izuku up, to help keep his friend from going too far. Only to find that that went both ways.

 

He shook his head slightly of his musings, trying to focus back on the drone of Cementoss discussing literature, and breathed slowly. From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but watch the clock tick closer to lunch time with each passing second.

 

It wasn't even that he was uninterested. Cementoss was actually one of Shinsou’s favorite teachers. But he was also talking about Shakespeare, which sucked, because Shinsou was not a fan of the Bard’s works... or rather the institution that surrounded them.

Besides, he had studied Shakespeare for his advanced literature class in middle school.

 

His boredom was broken up by the sound of something shifting. Blinking, he looked around and tried to track the soft, barely audible sound.

 

Suddenly the shifting sound was…

Above him?

He barely had time to blink and stare as the ceiling tile above him was pulled aside, a pair of arms reached down and grabbed him under his shoulders. For a split second he could see the familiar skeletal face of Juzo, before he was yanked up and out of his seat.

 

Two seconds later a small paper note drifted to his table.

 


 

“Why are there twenty one students here?” Vlad growled at the trio of students in front of a nervous looking puff of purple.

“Cause there deserves to be.” Kendo smiled. “And Nedzu cleared it!"

 


 

Izuku grinned as Uraraka and Tsuyu joked after hearing Iida’s glasses collection, him and Iida walking behind them. It had been… and occasionally still was, tense between them. But time provided distance and they had taken his reasonings well when they sat down and discussed it. They still were a bit… off put though. Izuku was far more outgoing, a side effect of almost tripling his group of friends.

 

Speaking of…

As Izuku trailed behind his friends on the way to classes, he caught sight of a pair of blonds opening a door right next to him.

 

He barely had time to yelp before he was dragged in, his friends ahead of him turning in alarm as the door closed.

 

He was spun around arms already raising to fight even as he recognized Aoyama and Monoma, both of them already reaching out at him, one pair of hands filled with combs and spray bottles, the other holding a small jar already open.

“What are–” He began before a spray of mist from a can above him made him shut his eyes and mouth.

“It’s called having style, Izuku.” Aoyama’s voice took on a distinctive drawl, and Izuku felt a large toothed comb thread through his hair as he spluttered, blushing.

“Something you have lacked.” Monoma’s curt tone was accented by deft hands tugging and adjusting his tie, the top button in his collar being undone in the process, before faint fingertips darted across his face around his eyes with a cool spot of moisture on them, making him keep his eyes closed even as he felt his uniform jacket be yanked down and off his arms. He blinked, trying to focus as he felt two pairs of hands to roll up his shirt sleeves to above his elbows.

 

“Guys, really, what the hell!” Izuku began before the door shook under a pounding fist behind him.

“HEY! GIVE US DEKU BACK!” Uraraka’s voice was muffled but clearly angry.

“Done and done,”

“Not bad for 20 seconds.”

 

The two blonds yanked Izuku forwards, threw the door open, and shoved him through into the upraised arms of Uraraka.

Gone was the messy hair, poorly done tie and plain face. Hair was now swept back and to the side out of his face, a faint sheen making it glimmer under the light of the hall. Around his eyes, a faint smear of deep red eyeshadow accented his bright green irises and gave them a sharp gleam, the contrast bringing out his focused eyes as he glared at his cohorts, and accentuating the dark freckles across his pale skin.

 

Beyond that, his jacket was gone and his sleeves were rolled up to show off defined biceps and the cords of scars around his right fist and wrist, while showing off his tight and rugged torso and shoulders.


“You assholes!”

“That's for me going through Plan Tear-Away 3.” Monoma smirked and Aoyama smiled, before the door slammed shut in front of Izuku.

“... Dammit. There goes my jacket.”

He blinked, realizing he was still leaning back and that hot hands were holding him up under the armpits. Craning his head back he looked up to meet the blushing face of Uraraka… even as the back of his head pressed against something soft and comfor–

His face burned as he realized what his head was on.

“U–ur–ur–”

With a shriek, Uraraka pushed him up and Izuku began to float.

 

He could only mutter apologies as he slowly spun, Uraraka flailing as she rambled back.

To the side, Iida and Tsuyu both blinked and stared, before Iida stepped forwards, arms coming up and only adding to the commotion.

Izuku’s blush was full force for the rest of the day, not helped by random wolf whistles in the halls from every member of the villain crew (And eighteen girls and four guys from other classes).

 


 

Mei grinned, listening to the faint murmur of her now ‘officially licensed support assistants’.

A few weeks of checking and applications, as well as both of them passing a series of safety and regulations tests, had allowed Mei to get both of her friends licensed to use support items they built in the field, and with the end of term exams coming up, Mei’s workshop was a mess of building and designing. While Mei was still a master of many fields, both of her assistants had taken to differing specialities.

 

Momo, with her ability to craft and use nearly anything, had looked for ways to bypass her limited fat reserves. It was only after a long discussion about design tolerances and the issue of designing modular components, that Momo had dug in and learned her new set of skills. Modular designed equipment. From grenade shells that needed only the right core to change from gas to smoke to flashbangs or even red goo, to a launcher that could fire anything from a grapple to a tracker or a tranquilizer.

By limiting what she needed to craft in the field to nothing more than the differing components, she could cut her complexity and crafting times by massive margins, while lowering her total spent fat cells. To help with this, Mei had cornered her and convinced her to swap out her ridiculous shelf belt, for an actual utility belt with large cargo pouches that went down her thighs, while also promising to revise some villain designs for hero use in the future.

 

Monoma, in the meantime, had fallen in love with old James Bond films, and had studied and researched far more… subtle designs. From hidden blades and lockpicks, to a suit jacket lined with miniature chainmail and thermal layers. His rapidly developing use of Creation and his skill in aesthetics lead to dozens of low impact designs that were being passed out among his class and the villains as well. Beyond the physical, he had also become enamored with coding and computer systems, rapidly finding his niche in computer manipulations and coding, though he was still limited to premade and easily modified codes for now.

 

Q would be proud.

 


 

Bakugou had slowly returned to his loud and abrasive self, but more and more, he could be caught in moments of quiet introspection and deep thought. His close friends, not that he would admit they were, had noticed and grown closer, with Mina rejoining the so called ‘Bakusquad’ with minimal friction.

However, despite the increased joy and laughter of the group, it was clear that all of them had learned something, and had made some form of goal. They could be found more and more on the lists of reserved training rooms. Rumors of the rigorous training they were pushing themselves through were more and more common, only accented by the rising combat scores and more focused grades of the ‘Hero Team’.


Todoroki in a strange comparison, was more social and outgoing. In training, he appeared to be focused, his once somewhat impervious demeanour had cracked, showing a young man with drive to spare, and plenty to focus on. Beyond his slowly thawing personality, his still growing friendship with Midoriya and Iida, and by extension Tsuyu and Uraraka, was building and developing faster and faster, quickly enlightening him to a variety of pop culture. He and Midoriya could be found in deep discussion over tactics and fighting styles, and Iida soon found a companion for long morning runs in the quiet teen.



As the school term began to close, a new status quo among friends and rivals finally settled down and began being built upon. As this continued, rumors began circulating down from the upper years. Advice and comments that put the students of 1-A and 1-B on edge.


Rumors of the End of Term Exams.

Chapter 4: The Face Off Begins

Chapter Text

Aizawa stared at the list of matches the teachers had come up with, and frowned.

“Are we sure about this?”

Most of the teachers had already left the meeting, and if Aizawa wasn’t concerned about this, he would have joined them.

Nedzu nodded as he tucked his hands behind his back, the short principle wandering at Aizawa’s side with jaunty steps.

“Of course! After the stress their bonds have gone through, I do believe that they need to confront these feelings! These will also push them to work together.”

Nedzu glanced up. “I presume you’re most worried about All Might’s confrontation?”

“You want to put the most volatile matchup against the most inexperienced teacher.” Aizawa scowled, thinking about it.

“I want to put iron in the forge Aizawa!” Nedzu practically chirped the words. “The villains have been amazingly proactive. We were planning to wait until the next term, but instead these students came to us! They asked us to push them, to teach them!”

Aizawa gave one last stare at his boss, before sighing.

“Oh, this will be a nightmare.”


Hero Class VIllains:

#News

Graffiti is now Online

Graffiti: Yo, Its been like a week since I signed in. any news i should be aware of, you know, aside from the looming 3 day hell that is our finals.

Drugs: Nothing much :P

Drugs:We’ve been all listening for updates and news about the practical exam, but all we’ve got is a date. Friday afternoon is suppose to be our test, after we do all the written tests the days before. whatever it is. All we know is it's supposed to be a combat test of some sort.

Con Man: Its driving Midori up the wall. He’s been planning responses for us, depending on if its a team game or not, but he’s losing his focus. He’s actually sleeping rn, because i knocked him out.

Graffiti: Huh. Really? Howed you do that.

Larceny: How’d*

Graffiti: …Bro…. Why you gotta call me out like this.

Larceny: Because I can.

Hacker: (+_+)

Larceny: Fuck. Gotta go!

Graffiti:... Yeah, someone want to explan that?

Forgery: Monoma is currently working in the shop and left part of his project in the forge while texting you-

Larceny: *explain

Hacker: (+_+^#)

Larceny: Ah, I am mother fuc-

Larceny is now offline

Graffiti: Rip.

Graffiti: But seriously though.

Graffiti: How’d you get Izuku to sleep? I know you won’t brainwash him without permission.

Con Man: Blackmail. I asked his mom for baby pictures of him in an All Might onesie. I mentioned it and he caved, gave me permission during his mutterfest and didn’t take it back before i had asked him if that counted.

Hacker: Gimme the Photos.

Con Man: Fuck no. This is some Prime blackmail. It only works so long as only i hold the copy.

Hacker: (+_+)┛彡┻━┻

Gimme the Pics, Shin.

Graffiti: me too.

Con Man: No way. I have plans for-

Hacker: I’ll work on that custom armor for you.

Con Man: ...

Graffiti: damn. Mei’s Ice cold.

Con Man: Deal. The pics will be in your hand to-

Kingpin is now Online

Kingpin: ◉‿◉

Con Man: FUCBFAUIH

Kingpin: “Gotcha, now go the Fuck to Sleep” Hitoshi? Really?

Con Man is now offline

Kingpin: Oh, really? You think you can escape this?

Kingpin is now offline

Graffiti: Rip

Drugs: F

Hacker: Rip

Forgery: Ummm.. Rest in peace? I suppose? Why are we doing this?

Pirate Radio: ... I need to teach you Memes Momo. that's like 160 years old.


 

Finals were exhausting. From late night cram sessions in the school library or nearby cafes, to the hours spent silently sitting under Aizawa or Vlad Kings gaze as they filled out page after page of tests and essay questions.

While most of the students felt the pressure and rising stress, and suffered for it, a few stood strong and proud. From Bakugou and his unending drive and focus, to Iida’s mechanically efficient studying and measured pace reading and rereading every question and direction, to Monoma, his gaze sharp and mind fast as he filled out page after page, to the calm and refined focus Momo possessed. The top of the class stood proud, while the rest staggered behind them, and in a few cases, kept up.

As the final day of the written test came to a close, all the first year students staggered up and stretched, some complaining and worrying about their scores, while others took the opportunity to shove the thoughts of questions and scores away until they were relevant once more.

Izuku yawned, his arms stretched behind him and fingers bending and shifting through some exercises he had been recommended after his surgery at the Sports Festival. He was lingering behind a muttering and nervous Uraraka and a calm and confident, if still mentally reviewing his answers, Iida.

As the two headed across the cafeteria, heading for Lunch Rush’s window, Izuku stepped aside and grimaced, reaching up and stretching his arm and shoulder to get rid of a kink.

“Gah, need to stand up straighter next time. This sucks,” he murmured and turned, heading back out, and blinking as some of the class B students fell into step with him, namely the Ghoul Squad.

“Hey guys, how did the exams go so far for class B?”

“Our bloodstained sensei administered us our conundrum, and we prevailed over the corrupting and crafty essence of education–” the dark skinned teen began to draw his melodramatic soliloquy, only for a hand to clap to his mouth, a dark haired and worn-looking Setsuna cutting him off.

“Kuro, chill with the vocabulary please? Tokoyami has been rubbing off on you too much, and I’m too tired for this.” The hand released Kuro’s mouth at the teens rolled eyes, and zipped back to massage Setsuna’s shoulder. “God, I hate essay exams. I learn and perform so much better kinesthetically.”

Next to Izuku, Yanagi spoke up. “Didn’t sensei make you do an extra two essay questions on rules and regulations?”

Yes.

Izuku chuckled at the byplay, and let out a slow breath.

Suddenly, his phone beeped.

From Mei: ZUKU! HERO SUIT MK 2 IS DONE! THE PAPERWORK FOR IT IS FINISHED!

Izuku blinked, and grinned he rushed towards the lunchline, waving goodbye to the Ghoul Squad as they fell into an argument about favoritism and consequences.

Tomorrow he could use his new outfit, but he really wanted to check it out now!


Izuku stretched as he and the rest of the class headed for where the teachers had gathered, waiting for them. He hopped lightly on his feet, feeling out the changes to his gear settle once more.

While the majority of his jumpsuit was the same, the sleeves and neckline of his jumpsuit had been changed. The collar was now looser, showing off more of his neck, with only his gleaming ‘smile guard’ resting under his chin and around his collar, while his sleeves were removed all together. He could feel his arms flex and shift as he considered her argument that long sleeves would merely shred, and since that had happened to quite a few of his outfits, he conceded the point.

To make up for the lack of coverage for his arms, Mei had added a short sleeved hooded jacket, the entire thing shaded with angular designs of white and forest green, with black accents and lines to seperate them. The hood even kept his bunny eared All Might homage to it, the green ears stretching from the top back in sharper short peaks. The entire jacket was fairly heavy as well, a side effect of Monoma’s attempts at armoring the lining with metal mesh and impact plating along his spine and shoulders.

Flexing his hands, he glanced at the only real piece of support gear that Mei had added, mainly due to the time it took to properly test and design them to industry safety standards.

A pair of gleaming white metal gauntlets that stretched up from his first knuckles and into the short sleeves of his jacket, red diamond shapes accenting the knuckles and fingertips, while a ring of red curved diamond shapes also marked his wrist and forearm about where his scarring was, mimicked on his left arm to match. The armor was designed to take and direct impacts across his entire arm up to his elbow, to help prevent another ‘Bone-breaking Juice Overdose’ He even had another deployable shield that currently hung in a collapsed form across his belt.

While the original gauntlet designs from the civil war had been scrapped due to the finicky nature of the crystal matrixes, the general designs had been met with much approval from Izuku’s friends. The armor would hopefully help him protect his limbs better, and the jacket was able to be discarded or used as a shock blanket or to protect a civilian from a fight.

His hands dropped and the bare fingertips tapped and felt along another addition. His utility belt had been overhauled by his friends. Several smoke bombs, a few flares, a variety of medical gear, and other odds and ends were stashed away in a multitude of pockets.

He glanced up as Aizawa began to speak.

“Welcome to the Practical Exam,” he grinned, and Nedzu popped from his scarf.

“INDEED! It is I, your principal! Here to inform you all of your upcoming confrontations! In recent years, our final exam has often been simple combat; Students facing robots and obstacles for a period of time! But, as the winds of change affect us, we’ve decided to change it up!”

Behind Aizawa and the Principal, the ground opened up, and up rose a platform.

A platform with over half of their teachers.

Izuku’s eyes glanced over the array of teachers, all decked out in full hero uniform.

Snipe, Midnight, 13, Power Loader, Cementoss, All Might, Ectoplasm, and Present Mic… Izuku counted, and then paused.

Aizawa and… Nedzu, were also participating.

Nedzu quickly lay out the terms of victory, Escape or Capture the teacher. All of them would handicap themselves somewhat. There was a half hour time limit.

With the stage set, Nedzu and Aizawa began calling out pairs and the teacher they would face. He focused on the first few before tuning out to focus on himself, a rising sense of tension filling him as the rest of the class murmured and tensed for the exam.

He noted that none of the ‘villains’ from the civil war were paired with each other. He watched name after name appear, but he knew what his match up was.

“Izuku Midoriya and Bakugou Katsuki! Facing, ALL MIGHT!”

He looked across the field, meeting the blondes red eyes with his own green, before turning to eye his predecessor’s blue and black gaze.

‘Of course. This is gonna absolutely be a shitshow.’

He hunched over slightly, and breathed deep, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as his mind began to race.

Well. This is gonna suck.’

Chapter 5: Conflict, Part 1

Summary:

ITS BEEN FOREVER!!!!
And this is a *short* chapter, but I just needed to get something out. Get the old muse working again.

Expect more sometime soon and Happy Holidays!

Chapter Text

As the students shuffled onto the bus, Yagi grimaced, stepping back and watching even as the rest of the teachers began to converse.

He was… worried. Young Bakugou had such potential, such power and instinct at his fingertips… but these last few weeks he had seemed unnaturally sullen, more so than when he had left for his internship after the sports festival.

As Yagi began to head for his own exam area, he heard a voice.

“Toshinori. A moment.”

“Ah, yes Aizawa-san?”

His dark haired coworker crossed his arms and gave the Number 1 hero an arched eye. “I plan to review these exams later. Nedzu as well. I ask that you restrain your power, beyond what your restraints will apply. This exam is as much for the two students to reconcile as it is for you to test their skills… I would like them to have the chance to do so.”

Yagi blinked and nodded as he processed the comment. “Ah, of course. I shall endeavor to keep them engaged with each other as much as myself.”

Aizawa gave a short nod, before glancing at the bus.

“I hope it goes well. For all our sakes.”


The bus of students rolled on, dropping the pairs at their destinations, where their teachers would meet them for their evaluation.

As the pairs met up and stood at the gates of each arena, the tension grew. Every member of the Villains was isolated from their recent friends, left to stand with the heroes they had beaten.

For some, this was less of a hassle, for others, the tension only grew.

Mina and Kaminari chatted amicably, both letting themselves be distracted by gossip to ignore the elephant in the room. Mina shifted, feeling the weight of her new additions on her lower back, a set of small canisters of acid that she had prepared leading into the exam, and that Mei and Momo had gotten certified for her.

Shouji stood quiet, eyes half-closed as Sero nervously fiddled with his suit, flexing and checking that his armor and his quirk were primed and ready to go.

Momo flexed and stretched, focusing on the task and throwing a soft smile to her ally, while Kirishima was doing his own routine, getting his blood pumping even as he tried to put on his best grin.

Jirou chatted with Ojiro, both teens trying to find some middle ground before the exam started.

Aoyama glanced at the armor he wore, taking in the modified lenses and its focusing ring even as he eyed the determined expression of his partner, as Uraraka went through forms that Gunhead had taught her.

Kouda glanced up, eyes focused on the birds that drifted far ahead, while Sato thumbed through his pockets, counting sugar packets. The two spoke softly, talking about bread and other simple things as they awaited the start of their exam.

Tokoyami shifted, the shadow of his cloak hiding his features, and letting the still small form of Dark Shadow relax and gaze out, the glowing eyes peering from his collar as he meditated. Across the small waiting area, Todoroki leaned against the wall, eyes closed and a faint mist of steam slowly drifting up from his jumpsuit.

As the bus rolled to its final stop, Izuku and Bakugou stepped off, glancing at each other with a tense air between them. The tension only grew as they both stood, quiet and ready to begin. There was no need to speak, to communicate. Not yet.

There was too much unsaid.

With a boom, the loudspeakers rang out across the exam grounds.

“Begin.”

And as the doors swung open, the 20 students of Class 1A started the Final Exam.


Mina slid through the doorway, eyes darting around as she took in the large construction site that rose above her. Cranes and automated construction gear laid about, and large yellow robots move to and from the structure, building and adding on sections of metal framework and paneling.

“Oh jeez, this is gonna be bad.”

As she spoke, the robots turned in a slow wave to look her direction as Kaminari stepped up to her side.

It’s always a pleasure to test my designs against young students! Let's start, shall we?”

Nedzu’s voice rang out, and the robots hefted heavy construction tools, saws and drills whirring and grinding as the robots began to blitz them.

“Hah! I got this!” Kaminari lunged forwards, before Mina could stop him he had thrown up his hands, and sparks flowed across him.

“INDISCRIMINATE SHOCK!”

Mina barely had a chance to leap back, stepping behind the corner she had slid past.

When the flare of lightning faded, she glanced back to see the robots malfunctioning… in the worst way. They changed direction randomly and moved in jerky bursts, waving their tools indiscriminately. Beyond that, the crane above the building was now sparking and swinging in a circle… with the heavy pallet of supplies in its claw becoming a massive hazard.

“DAMMIT KAMI!” She snagged the now stuttering and dazed Kaminari, yanking him down as a robot with a hammer swung through where he had just been, sparks of metal flying as it slammed into another bot.

‘This is going terribly already. Kami zapped himself, and now I've got crazy robots everywhere.’

She reached behind her back, into the new pouch on her belt, and pulled out a purple glass cylinder. A click of the firing pin, and she tossed it out and far, hissing as it began to lead a purple-pink rain hissing over the crowd of robots even as she grunted, throwing the insensate electric user over her shoulder and booking it back into the buildings around the construction site.

Behind her, dozens of robots began to sag and spark, the rain of acid wearing down joints and plating even as they maniacally moved about.

‘I hope that the others are having a better time than I am!’


Momo dived behind a car as the form of Kirishima slammed to the ground where she had just stood. He gasped out, quirk disabled from Aizawa’s glare even as the teacher seemed to vanish, leaping back into the surroundings even as Momo popped up, gun firing red paint rounds into the alley only for the feeling of her quirk vanishing to happen again.

Growling, she grabbed Kirishima and pulled the teen up, shoving him back towards the way they were heading.

“We need to keep moving. Harden back up and go.”

“But we’re supposed to fight-” Kirishima was torn, his instincts warring with Momo’s commands.

She rounded on him with a sharp look in her eye as she spoke softly. “We can’t beat him here. There are too many angles to watch. We need to choose our battleground. Move.” She glanced, hearing the shattering of a bottle, from the far side from where Aizawa last was.

“Shit!” shoving Kirishima back, she watched the thick silvery cloth of the capture weapon swing right between them.

She reached for her quirk, calling up the designs for a flash-

Through the streets, red eyes stared her down, and her quirk froze in her skin.

She growled and spun, gun firing as Aizawa vanished.

‘I hate this.’

Chapter Text

“YEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH~”

 

Jirou winced, the screech of Present Mic’s scream making her ears vibrate painfully despite the fact she had taken a second to shove them under the leather of her jacket and out of the way.

 

Across the street from where she had taken cover, Ojiro was also holding his hands to his ears. The two had found Mic easily enough, but his position of choice had been a T-shaped intersection right before the exit. Which meant he had free reign to blast away at the buildings around him, shattering windows and cracking the street with his shouts.

 

Ojiro glanced up to meet her eyes and she bit back a scream. She glanced up at the buildings around them, and glanced at the roofs.

 

If she could get closer… or if Ojiro could, then they could at least get past Mic.

 

God, she wished she had Momo here, then at least she’d have a gun!

 

As the scream began to taper off, she drew out her ear jacks, feeling the pain of the last notes even as she gestured up and over with one, while the other pointed down the side alley she was crouched in.


Ojiro frowned but nodded, taking off the other way to head for the roofs, while Jirou started sprinting down the side street, scooping up a bottle from where it sat in the alley as she moved.

 

As the screaming started again, she bit back tears of pain and kept moving.


Shouji leaned against the gap between the support beams of the building, eyes closed and ears opened as another bullet whistled by. He could distantly hear the sound of Snipe shifting to try and get a new bead on the two of them, but with Sero on his back, and the teen’s elbows cocked and loaded, they were able to move quicker.

 

As the sounds began to move, Shouji used the small mouth near Sero’s ear to whisper. “ He’s east, moving along the roofs. We have to keep to the west side of the buildings.”

 

“Got it. I’ll throw up another few traps as we go.”

 

The two had had a small amount of tension between them to start with, but when Sero had agreed to be artillery and Shouji had apologized for the ‘Elevator incident’, they had fallen into sync just fine. Shouji’s arms and extra senses could pinpoint Snipe, and the few times the hero had moved in closer to try and corner them, there had been large strips of tape fired up over his position. They had already stuck his poncho to a roof, and managed to escape further into the maze of shipping containers and warehouses that formed the Heroes’ testing ground.

 

“Head for the exit?”

 

“Sounds good; let's go, dude.”

 

As they moved off into the shipping containers, another gunshot rang out, the teens shifting direction and darting between two more containers as the bullet whipped by, guided through the corridors of the area by Snipe’s quirk.

 

‘Thank god he can’t turn those on a dime.’


Asui lept above a pair of Ecto-clones, tongue lashing out to drag her over the crowd to a new perch, where she glanced around.


Where the hell was Toru?


Hagakure cursed, ducking under a car, watching as another pair of clones jogged past.


Where the fuck is Asui?


Iida sprinted through the large gravel pit, Mineta stuck to his back as he navigated the maze of construction supplies and large mining gear.

 

“Any sign of him?”

 

“NOT YET!”

As they rounded another corner, Iida heard a rumbling and glanced up, eyes wide.

 

“LANDSLIDE!” Mineta shouted, throwing several of his balls up the hill to try and slow the collapsing mass of stone.

 

“I SEE IT! RECIPRO BURST!” Iida charged out of the area, moving clear of the landslide as it buried the path they had just been on. The two tumbled down the sudden cliff under them, before they slid to a stop. There was another rumbling, this one mechanical in nature, as the entire ledge they were standing on tilted, spilling the two teens even further down the hill into the gravel of the lower levels. 

 

As the landslide slid to a stop, the two of them shoved out of the loose rock.

 

“We need to get out! This pit leaves us—”

 

“Right where I want you.”

 

With a mechanical groan, the gravel around them shifted, before out of the far side of the pit, first one, then another, mechanical arms clawed free.

 

As it rose, the mecha that Power Loader was famous for shook free of the gravel.

 

Tucked away in the chest of the mech, the red-haired inventor could only grin under his helmet.


Uraraka was torn.

 

Her opponent was her favorite hero, Thirteen. The Space Hero! The one she had spent so long idolizing. Her very own costume was based off of theirs!

 

And beyond that… at her side was the smiling and cheerful Aoyama. His armor had been refined, shifting from a knightly armor to something more reflective of his French roots. He still looked like he was 90% glitter, but the cape he had been so proud of had been replaced by something only half its original length. Even now, as they moved through the forested section they had been assigned, he looked more focused and regal then she remembered.

 

Meanwhile, she felt... almost like she was falling behind. She hadn’t changed her outfit at all. Hadn’t even really thought about it. 

 

Meanwhile, all of the villains had been adding to their supplies, taking extra classes, doing research. It felt almost like they were pulling away.

 

And she was not going to be left behind.


Ice formed and shifted, Tokoyami standing tall behind Todoroki even as the two advanced through the shifting concrete maze.

 

Todoroki’s ice locked the concrete in place, while Tokoyami smashed a path free.

 

One could almost say the two of them were working together fine…

 

If not for the constant, cold tension between them.

 

Todoroki’s crossed arms and cold demeanour was matched by the silence of Tokoyami in his dark cloak.

 

While they were both focused on the goal, neither were acting as partners so much as reluctant allies.


Kouda huddled his arms closer, the small resting birds chirping at him as they relayed the sight that was around the corner of the debris field.

 

Nodding, he glanced to Sato, the taller teen crouched at his side.

 

“M-Midnight is spreading gas across the exit. We can’t reach it!”

 

Sato grimaced.


As all the various fights wore on, there was still one that had yet to start.

 

Izuku sat on the bus, eyes closed and focusing on his breathing. 

 

‘In, two, three, four.’  he inhaled. ‘Hold, two, three, four.’ He held his breath, loosened muscles hanging limp. ‘Exhale- three, four.’

 

He kept the simple pattern going, fighting down the surge of anxiety that was lingering in his gut.

 

Instead of letting his fears rule him, he used his meditation to focus.

 

‘Just like the game. What are the pieces?’

 

Izuku sank into the depths of that cold focus he remembered using during the War. 

 

By the time the bus finally slowed to a stop, just outside a training ground styled like a city street, Izuku was ready.

 

As he stepped off, trailing a growling and tense Bakugou, Izuku closed his eyes.

 

And the Kingpin opened them.

 

Cold green eyes, lit by mischief and cunning, stared at Bakugou's back.

 

‘Victory over pride.’

Chapter 7: Clash of Personality

Chapter Text

Katsuki growled, shifting as he hefted his gauntlets. But he couldn’t help the glance to the side.

 

The nerd’s new uniform looked almost casual in comparison to his old one, or Katsuki’s. The hood was pulled up, the faint shape of ears in the cloth flopping back from the nerds face, what wasn’t covered by the metal mouthpiece that had been pulled up. But the change to the outfit was nothing compared to the teen’s crouched stance. White and red clad fingers were braced out on the ground, and he was on one knee, stretching the other leg out behind him.

 

Katsuki expected the nerd to start talking. To throw out some dumbass plan.

 

Instead it was silent.

 

But soon enough the wait was over.

 

The bell rang, and Bakugou began to charge.

 

‘He’ll show the nerd! He’ll take All Might all by himself!’

 

Behind him, Izuku stood up and walked in, pacing himself as he followed behind the distant bangs of Bakugou’s explosions.


Kingpin breathed deep, mind racing, eyes glancing over the wide streets and blocky buildings of the street.

 

Katsuki was already gaining, rushing forth with that reckless abandon. How many times had this happened? How often had his childhood friend abandoned all forms of planning, relying on his own pride and own sheer self-assurance to carry him through whatever came his way.

 

Already Izuku could sense it, the building tension that seemed to grow, watching Katsuki charge into a fight he can’t win.

 

He had to try, didn’t he?

 

“Katsuki, wait!”

 

“FUCK OFF!”

 

The instant response would have made Izuku from the start of the year flinch.

 

The persona of the Kingpin merely looked away, sighing.

 

With a smooth motion, he drew the long plate from the back of his hip, sliding it into the back of his left gauntlet as he began to channel One For All.

 

The green sparks spread across his body, the rush of power flowing pushing him to stand up straight.

 

As the plate clicked into place, it began to unfold with a series of clicks, unfolding into an undersized kite shield that spread out from the back of his left hand to past his elbow, done in the same white color as his gauntlets. As it connected, the faint trace of green sparks began to play across its normally invisible seams, looking almost like a sunburst from the bottom point as they rushed across the surface.

 

Katsuki was already a block away.

 

Glancing up, Izuku picked a path across the roofs.

 

Overwatch was going to be the name of his game.

 

With a pulse of green, and a crack, he vanished, leaving only a small crater where he had once been.


Snipe ducked around another corner, seeing the long ribbons of tape hanging from the light posts around the yard and strung across the gaps between shipping containers.

 

‘Area denial. Making me take my time to catch up. Smart move, kiddos.’

 

The exit of the shipping yard was still in easy sight from the tops of the shipping containers, the tall archway clearly visible. 

 

All he had to do was keep that in sight as he kept the kids from getting close. 

 

However… he wasn’t sure where the kids were.

 

In between dodging the various strips of tape and repositioning to get a better angle, the duo had vanished.

 

For a long moment he let the calm and quiet guide him.

 

And then he heard it- a creak of metal from above his level, drawing his gaze higher.

 

With a quick leap, he moved  to the highest level of the container maze, pulling himself over the edge of the metal boxes to find himself face to face with a crouching Sero. the teen’s black facemask reflecting the masked face of the gunslinger.

 

“Howdy.” 

 

Sero’s arms came up, elbows cocked forwards and aiming at the teacher, even as Snipe began to draw his revolver up-

 

And then the container under them ripped apart, a mass of bone and claw tipped arms punching up at the hero as Shouji made his appearance.

 

Snipe couldn’t help the grin under his mask.

 

‘Well played.’


Yaoyorozu snagged Kirishima, dragging him out of the street even as the flashbangs went off.

 

The red head looked around, panicked. “This isn’t working! We can’t lose him!” 

 

Momo couldn’t help but agree. They had only moved several streets closer to the exit, being hounded and hunted by Aizawa-sensei the entire way.

 

Any plan she made was dismantled in moments, and Kirishima didn’t know any of her basic plans, the two of them kept having to drag the other out of situations…

 

‘We can’t work together, our styles are too different! We need a new…’

 

As she slowed her breathing she almost felt it, A hand on her shoulder, a whisper in her ear.

 

‘If you have a bad matchup, then you run. Split and regroup.’

 

It was the basis of Izuku’s combat philosophy for the villains. Slamming your head into a wall wouldn’t help you.

 

As she looked out, not seeing AIzawa-Sensei, the fine grains of sand trickling from her palm not stopping under Erase, she made her decision.

 

“Kirishima, I need you to listen to me. We can’t win a fight. We have to run.”

 

Even as she spoke, another piece of advice came to her mind, this time flavored with Hitoshi’s drawl, his amusement.

 

‘If you can’t win the fight, find a different fight.’

 

He had said it while the rest of the villains had been serving as Izuku’s throne after training one morning, and the chorus of groans and curse words had sent the lavender haired teen laughing.

 

But it was right. In a game of hide and seek, Aizawa was always going to win.

 

But what about a game of Jenga ?

 

With a touch of thought she began to change the formula of the sand coming from her hand from straight silica into Trinitrotoluene ….


Another scream scored across the ground, throwing up dust, rocks, and debris from the shattered area around Present Mic.

 

The blonde kept his upbeat mood, his headphones on and playing something classic, something funky.

 

“Play that funky music white boy~
Play that funky music right~”

 

He wasn’t being dumb though, even though he was doing a shout every half a minute. It was for a purpose. He had cleared the entire area around the exit, half the buildings lining the outer edge of his perimeter half destroyed, and every window for probably half a mile in front of him had been shattered.

 

And while he was bobbing to the beat, he kept his eyes open.

 

He also had a secret. 

 

His glasses had a distortion. A thin line of a carefully made prism, just along the bottom of the lenses, that focused wide.

 

Even if he wasn’t looking, anything that moved on that line, in a nearly 180 degree arc, showed up.

 

It was an innovation he had gotten long ago, when he realized just how much his lack of hearing while using his quirk left him open to sneak attacks.

 

And it was why even as he bobbed his head left, he caught the movement from the right.

 

Ojiro was sprinting, but he was wearing some sort of headgear.

 

Thick cloth and bandages wrapped his head, thick around his ears, in a way that looked almost like a boxing helmet, leaving only a small gap for his eyes and mouth.


When they were dancin' and singin' and movin' to the groovin'~

And just when it hit me somebody turned around and shouted~”

 

Mic had to hand it to him, it was pretty impressive for five minutes of scavenging, but just blocking his ears wouldn’t help.

 

With a click of his tongue, he flexed and began to scream.

 

While it started in the high and damaging volume he had started with, he quickly began to lower his frequency.

 

Ojiro’s mad sprint slowed when the first scream began, but as it dropped he slowed more, and more, leaning forwards and digging his hands and tail into the ground, gritted teeth grinding as the force pushed him back.

 

But even as he kept his scream going, his breathing regulated and circular, Present Mic couldn’t help but wonder what Jirou was doing.

 

That is until he nearly tripped, as the ground around him began to thump and heave, the surprise making his scream cut off with a screech.

 

He ran through what, exactly must be happening, even as the dazed form of Ojiro began to sprint once more, tearing his way over the unheaving landscape.

 

But then Mic realized.

 

‘Sewers! She’s in the sewers!’

 

He was standing dead center on a road out of the training ground! 

 

“Play that funky music white boy~

Play that funky music right!”

 

He couldn’t help a laugh of surprise as Ojiro lunged at him.


13 ducked another blast of rubble, one hand swiping past it, the gravitational pull of their quirk ripping concrete and rebar into dust. The other hand stretched out, and the light of Aoyama’s laser was consumed in a black hole.

 

The two teens had embarked on a string of fights, clearing large sections of the debris around the training ground as ammunition and cover, only for them to be rendered useless in 13’s indomitable approach.

 

The teacher was even keeping up their affable suggestions, voice clear and kind even as each boulder or beam was destroyed.

 

But as they moved through the city, Aoyama grinned, holding back a grimace of pain at the way his stomach was cramping, while besides him Uraraka was looking much the same, her face a near permanent shade of nauseous.

 

“Mademoiselle, It’s almost time!’

 

“Please, I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.”

 

Aoyama had been leading their retreat, suggesting different piles to use, but he had an endgame.

 

The exit was a narrow corridor of rubble at the far side of the training ground, but it was mostly straight. The issue was that the piles of debris everywhere didn’t give a straight shot.

 

Or they hadn’t.

 

Minutes of using boulders as projectiles, or leading the devouring black hole of their sensei’s quirk one way or another had cleared a corridor.

 

A straight shot to the exit.

 

And with this last confrontation, their Sensei was out of position.

 

“NOW!”

 

Uraraka slapped one hand on her own stomach, and the other on Aoyama's shoulder, and the teen gave a half pirouette, pushing off as he oriented away, Uraraka clinging to his arm.

 

“Au revoir!”

 

With a smile that was half pain and half bloodied determination, and his body free of earthly coils, he fired his laser.

 

13 could only blink as the two teens turned into a speeding comet that threw them across the training ground.

 

And through the gate.

 

Uraraka Ochako, Aoyama Yuga: Pass!”


Walls of cement shifted and spiraled around, even as Todoroki strained himself to push it back, a growing spiral of ice pushing out against the crushing rock as Tokoyami braced himself in the sole opening.

 

In front of him, in the dark spaces of the growing concrete labyrinth, Dark shadow clawed and scratched through the concrete.

 

The two of them had made good progress, but as both Cementoss and Shoto matched their power, progress had ground to a start.

 

It was up to Tokoyami and Dark shadow.

 

If they could get to Cementoss, then they could turn the tides.

 

But the raven-headed teen would have to do it before Todoroki had to summon his flames to prevent the chill of frostbite.

 

It had already happened twice, each time all but resetting dark shadows progress.

 

If they had to do it a third time, they might not get a fourth.


Koda breathed deep, crouching with his hands out and filled with seeds as several birds ate their fill.

 

He had been carrying a pouch of it with his gear, on advice from Izuku, for a while. 

 

As the last of the birds took off, they landed on the nearby branches, and Koda rose from his crouch, dusting the last of the seeds from his hands..

 

Sato stood nearby, stretching.

 

“Hope this works.” 

 

“So do I.” 

 

With a clap of his hands, Koda gave the command.

 

“Swarm her.”

 

Around him, dozens, almost hundreds of birds took off, spiraling up and around.

 

Beneath them, Koda and Sato stood up, both pulling masks of torn cloth up around their face.

 

As they moved towards the exit, they could see her.

 

Midnight stood, hand on her hip and whip hanging free.

 

“About time boys~ don’t you know not to keep a woman… waiting.”

 

The two teens glanced at each other, and gave heavy sighs.

 

And then they began to advance.

Chapter 8: Reassess and Recover

Summary:

In which I try my hardest to speedrun half the Exam fights because I'm sick and tired of writers block fucking me over on this.

Sorry for the delays, btw. LiD just owns my entire goddamn soul right now.

Chapter Text

 

Uraraka and Aoyama staggered into the ‘Recovery Tent’ with green tinted cheeks and aching stomachs, and with a moment to take in the other two teams who had already completed their fights, they slumped onto the provided seats gratefully. Ten screens across the far side of the tent had been set up, three of them already showing ‘Complete’ instead of live battles.

 

Their fight against 13, Sero and Shouji against Snipe, and Jirou and Ojiro against Present Mic.

 

Of the six of them, it looked like Sero and Shouji had come out the best. Aside from some rips and tears, and Sero looking exhausted, the two of them had captured Snipe the fastest. Though, looking closely, it was clear that Shoji's shirt was… bloodied.

 

On the other side of the equation…

“You look ragged, darling.” Aoyama drawled, snagging a bottle of juice from a cooler even as he looked at Jirou. She was face down on the table, ears wrapped in gauze and what he recognized as sound dampeners on her jacks. 

 

The returning grumble from Jirou was muffled and tone deaf, showing just how much of her hearing was currently screwed up. “Shut it, frenchie. Mic is fucking loud. And I had to spend almost three minutes setting up the resonance on my speaker to blow through concrete. I. Hurt.”

 

Next to her Ojiro was leaning on his own forearms, ears similarly padded and skin wrapped up.

 

At Aoyama's curious look, the tailed teen sighed. “Did you know shockwaves can cause friction burns if they pick up enough dust… or send you skidding over asphalt?”

 

The winces around the table were sympathetic.

 

Uraraka leaned up.

 

“Who’s closest to finishing now?”

 

Shouji pointed at one of the screens, currently showing a massive cloud of birds. “Koda and Sato are about to make it out, or crash and fail.”

 

As the rest of them focused, the true scope of what was happening became clear.

 

“Damn, Koda’s trying to make Hitchcock jealous.”

 




Koda was indeed trying to perform his best interpretation of Hitchcock. In fact, he was banking on it.

 

Ahead of him, already berserk off of a heavy dose of sugar, Sato was rushing at Midnight, who retreated as birds began to collapse around her, keeping her on her toes.

 

What Koda was banking on was the fact that the birds were in fact consuming some of the mist, where their wings weren’t disrupting the air currents in their approach. What had once been a fairly thick fog that was dense and centered around Midnight had since been expanded in erratic ways; long, twisted spirals of mist and areas where it had thinned all around.

And while Sato was currently unable to consider them in his assault, abusing the way sugar was increasing his heart rate and flooding him with an adrenaline-like effect to blunt the gas, Koda was more than willing to swerve wide, ducking through pockets of clear or weaker air for quick and shallow breaths before moving in.

 

They only had another few minutes at best before the flock was incapacitated or fought off.

 

And while Sato was rushing Midnight, Koda was focusing on the gate.

 

After all, that was the rules of engagement. ‘Objective is more important than combat’

 

Meter by meter, he got closer.

 

But the closer he got, the thicker the mist became.

 

As Sato reached Midnight, and began to thrash around, trying to hit the acrobatic hero, Koda finally ran out of ‘clear’ air.

 

None of the birds got past this point, and the air itself was thick with Midnight’s quirk.

 

He sprinted into it.

 

He knew where the gate was.

 

He had to make it through.

 

Even as he felt Midnight's quirk began to disorient him, he didn’t stop.

 

He couldn’t.

 

Even as his legs grew heavy, he pushed on.

 

And as he finally broke free, he took a massive inhale, trying to cough out the gas, even as the world went… wonky.

 

When the buzzer finally went off, signaling he escaped successfully, Koda gave a bright grin, and then stumbled.

 

He was out cold before he hit the ground.

 


 

Jirou winced at the view on the monitor, even as the ‘End of match’ signal went out. “Oof. That was impressive, but dang. Animal just face planted.”

 

“And Sato is out for the count too. That’s a rough way to end it.” Shouji crossed his arms and leaned back, his variety of eyes tracking the rest of the screens, looking for who else was almost done.

 

Only to wince as he watched Mina and Kaminari get pinned by a pile of construction robots.

 

“Acid and Sparky are out. Nedzu finally cornered them.”

“Oof. That's not fun. Were they at least working together?”

 

Shouji shook his head. “Kaminari blew a fuse early.”

 

“Dang it.”

 

Minutes later Mina came into the tent, Kaminari likely sleeping off his discharge out in the medical tent, before plopping down on the narrow bench section between Shouji and Jirou. “Hey, anything I miss?”

 

“So far looks like everyone but you two passed, or at least got out.”

 

The pink girl sighed and crossed her arms, slumping on Jirou’s shoulder. “That’s not fair. Nedzu is worse then King… I mean, Izuku.”

 

Shouji shrugged, before humming. “I mean, Izuku is being taught by Nedzu. That's where he’s been heading for his free period.”

 

The face that the entire villain team at the table pulled was collectively between unease, fear, and approval.

 

Was Izuku being trained by the principal? Yes.

 

Did it make sense? Also yes!

 

Was it still absolutely terrifying?  Fuck yes!

 

They fell silent, watching the screens, before a timer went off.

 

“Ah, Todoroki and Tokoyami just lost on time.”

 

It was true. Cementoss’s massive maze and Todoroki’s growing ice castle had clashed and come up with a draw, and Dark Shadow didn’t have the reach to find Cementoss in the fight The fact they started first, over half an hour ago, only made it more impressive in some ways.


Which means there were only a few fights left… the ones who had started last.

 

One by one, the remaining fights were ignored, the attention of those in the tent drawn away from them.

 

Except for one.

 

Except for The Kingpin and The Paragon.

 


 

The fight wasn’t going well. Not for Bakugou. And not for Toshinori.

 

He was worried about this. Had been concerned ever since the principle brought the team formations up. 

 

Here he was, taking an all out assault from a young man who should know better.

 

“DIEEEE!!!”

 

Yagi grimaced, frowning as he sidestepped the bright flash of an explosive blast, before bringing his hand around in an open palmed slam towards the teen, the air pressure launching the blond before him back.

 

“NOT TODAY, YOUNG BAKUGOU.”

 

Bakugou recovered, if nothing else, spinning to land on his feet with heaving breaths, sweat rolling down his form, signs that he was over extending himself, and his quirk.

 

If this continued, he would have to call the exam off for medical reasons. 

 

And it wasn’t even young Midoriya who was the reason this time.

 

Speaking of… Yagi glanced up, taking in the hint of movement that he had identified as Midoriya as he darted along the rooftops, watching the fight with his face hidden in the shadow of his hood and behind his mechanical mask.

 

‘What are you planning, my boy? Why haven’t you stepped in yet?’

Chapter 9: Remember the Playbook

Summary:

When the times get tough, fall back on what you know.

Remember the Playbook, and the notes you took.

Chapter Text

Izuku… No. The Kingpin watched. Mask pulled over his face, conformed padding and metal locking it around his jaw, keeping the soft murmuring he kept up quiet and contained.

 

Page 12, Quiet Maneuvering.

‘Stealth and Misdirection are too useful to give up on. If the enemy knows what you want, they can prepare. Never give them the heads up.’

 

Katsuki was raging, burning like a firework, loud and desperate to prove himself. 

 

The explosions were unending . The street cracked under blasts that melted asphalt and scorched concrete. Glass up and down the street was shattered, and metal was deformed and dented.

 

Once more a pressure wave sent Katsuki ragdolling back down the street, and once more a flicker of explosives corrected his trajectory, set him back on his feet, and let him start charging.

 

All Might hadn’t been forced back more than ten feet in five minutes.

 

The trailing destruction all centered on All Might. Every scorched line from an overcompensated blast, every line of fragmentation, every burning warped line of heat and pressure- all from the point just in front of All Might.

 

‘He’s gotten stronger.’ Kingpin couldn’t help but muse. Bakugou had never had this level of consistency, this level of staying power. The blasts were stronger, more focused, more controlled…

 

A sharp contrast to Katsuki himself, as an open handed slam sent him rolling back across the asphalt, his hero uniform torn and charred.

 

He had lost his eye mask and communicator minutes ago, the mask’s spiked wings snapping as he hit the ground and discarded like it was worthless, the communicator either lost in a tumble or torn out in frustration.

 

Izuku would have helped, had Bakugou asked.

 

Would have gone down and stepped in, would have tried to communicate and convince Katsuki to join back up again, to let them work together.

 

Kingpin was willing to wait.

 

An explosion rocked the street, the second of Bakugou’s grenade gauntlets going off-

 

All Might moved.

 

‘Not his fastest. Mei’s weights slow and resist kinetic energy. Almost like he’s pushing through sand or water. But still Fast.’

 

Bakugou was slammed into the wall, the light-density concrete of the buildings shattering on impact.

 

Kingpin had learned a lot about those safety measures planning for the simulation cities. One of Cementoss’s specialties- highly aerated layers of ‘cement foam’ that surrounded more dense and structurally important layers. It would hurt, getting slammed into it, but it wouldn’t break your body the same way real concrete would.

 

The dust cleared, and Kingpin sighed.

 

Katsuki wasn’t unconscious… but he was down.

 

That’s his cue.

 

Pushing up, Kingpin snapped the shield back out to full extension and focused.

 

The spark of Full Cowling raced his body-

 

And Izuku flickered.

 

All Might turned to meet him, alerted by the snap as Izuku pushed up against the sound barrier, air compressing and whistling around the face of his shield as he touched down in a crouch, just under All Might’s raised arms for defense.

 

It was one of the lines from Villain Playbook #1, specifically:

 

Page 4, controlling engagements.

‘Go low when the enemy is taller than you.

 

‘Shield Smash!’

 

Izuku unfurled his entire body like a spring, the point of his shield angled forwards as he rocketed under the guard.

 

The rounded point of the shield slammed directly into Yagi’s sternum, a picture perfect gut punch, one that was strong enough to make All Might exhale sharply, contracting around the hit and stepping back-

 

Just as the flashbang Izuku had tossed up came down… and bounced off the shield.

 

All Might wasn’t ready for it, the blinding flash and echoing bang .


Seconds later, as Yagi blinked the afterimages of that shield away, he turned back to find only the wreckage.

 

But not young Midoriya or Bakugou.

 

“AHA, SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOURSELF HERO!”

The booming words echoed through the street, even as All Might slowly twisted, keeping an eye out for flickering lightning or booming explosions.

 

Instead he heard a hissing and twisted-

 

Just in time for the smoke grenades that Izuku left behind to go off.

 

As dark green smoke filled the street, Yagi narrowed his eyes and held out his hands.

 

“IF YOU THINK THE SMOKE SHALL HIDE YOU, THINK AGAIN!”

 

A thunderous clap and a shockwave blew the smoke- and the grenades- away, air pressure lifting any spare debris as well.

 

And then an explosion rang out!

 

All Might turned, expecting to see perhaps Bakugou coming in for an attack-

 

Only to instead see the remains of one of the gauntlets, smoke still drifting from where it lay shattered on the ground.

 

‘A Distraction?’

 

Leaping, All Might repositioned, ready for an attack-

 

….

 

One that never came.

 

For a long moment there was silence.

 

Quiet.

 

And then, at the very end of the street, he saw it.

 

Perched on one of the buildings, glancing back, electric green eyes met sunken blue, a blonde figure held limp over one shoulder.

 

‘He’s running?’

 

All Might felt a strange sense of uncertainty about this. A combination of surprise and hesitance meant that even as he took off, leaping down the street after his student, he was unsure of what, exactly, was happening.

 

Regardless, his goal was clear.

 

His student couldn’t leave, not yet.


Reaching out, Yaoyorozu pulled Kirishima from the mouth of the Alley, both of them all but tripping into an empty back room, decorated like some sort of waiting room or storage room for the storefront of the building. But even as they pushed through the door, Kirishima was twisting free of Yaoyorozu’s grip.

 

“Will you stop-”

“We need to-”

 

Stop dragging me around.”

“If you just would listen to me.”

 

They both stopped, breathing heavily. Yaoyorozu was scuffed and tired, her hands sparking with the remnants of her quirk, smoke and power residue from multiple flashes of explosives, a trick stolen from Bakugou’s playbook, making the normally composed girl look downright disheveled.

 

But Kirishima didn’t look much better. His arms and face were covered with scraped skin and scratches, and the knuckles from his hands were bruised and bloodied, the red splattered across his skin where his hardening had been deactivated at the wrong time, leaving him to take the backlash of what normally would have been successful attacks.

 

They had been fighting, struggling, pulling against each other in conflicting goals. Aizawa could bait Kirishima out, could provoke his fight response even as Momo was forced to abandon traps or mis-time her attacks, trying to work around Kirishima’s much more blunt style.

 

But now, pulled out of the fight, for as long as it took Aizawa to come after them, they had a moment to actually talk .

 

“We should be heading for the exit.”

 

“And what, let Sensei ambush up every step of the way?”

 

“It’s better than running headlong into him every time he shows up!”

 

Kirishima growled and slammed his hand into the wall, frustration building up even as he winced at the pain. “I know! But what else am I supposed to do!”

 

Yaoyorozu sighed and leaned back rubbing her temples.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Kirishima paused, and then sighed. He didn’t like this question, but they needed to step outside the box.

 

“I know you and the rest of the Villain team had a playbook, right? A… whole bunch of rules? Did they have anything for this?”

 

Yaoyorozu opened her mouth… but then paused, a considering look on her face.

 

“... Page 1.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can’t believe I forgot. ” Yaoyorozu grabbed Kirishima’s hand and held it up, glancing over the bloodied knuckles. “It’s part of the Page 1 of the playbook! ‘When in doubt, focus on giving yourself the advantage.’”

 

“And that helps us how?”

From Yaoyorozu’s palm, gleaming brass began to take shape. “Aizawa can take our quirks… so let's not use them!”


 

Page 6. Conflict is optional.

When you are faced with furthering your goals or committing to a fight, the goals always take priority. Force conflict into a movement, make the enemy commit and overcommit to counter whatever you do.


All Might leapt high and long, angled to intercept the running teen and his cargo- but when he landed all he saw was the darting form as Izuku lept to the left…

 

And another clink as a flashbang bounced off the roof, skipped off the concrete to bounce back up-

 

BANG

 

Another blinding light, but Yagi was prepared, his hand held up to block the light and keep his vision.

 

Of course, that’s when the muffled ‘Thump-hiss’ of the smoke grenades went off- not just around him but across every rooftop surrounding the scene of the fight. Green and black smoke billowing out around AC units and from ledges and windowsills.

 

And the smoke was heavy. It hung there, drifting downwards after it began to billow, and while this would have been merely an odd note were they on ground level- From above it became a much more drastic effect.

 

The entire street was going to be filled with the smoke, the billowing clouds pushing off the edges of buildings to crawl along the streets and storefronts, the smoke that All Might had blown away earlier already billowing up to complete the curtain.

 

Even as All Might turned and gazed across the roofs and glanced around the streets-

 

The smoke screened entire buildings from sight.

 

‘Some form of remote trigger to link the smoke grenades together. He spent the opening of the fight, where Young Bakugou was engaging me, preparing for this.’

 

Yagi couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, as he rose up.

 

“WELL DONE! YOU’VE HIDDEN YOURSELF FROM ME, BUT CAN YOU KEEP IT UP?”

 

Tensing he brought his hands together and clapped .

 

Around him, the smoke billowed out and cleared in a ring, the pressure wave pushing it away-

 

But he looking out past that, for movement in the smoke.

 

Where was his successor, where was he running…

 

The fastest way to the exit was past the building he had landed on, and he could see clearly, the end of the smoke was still quite far from the exit gate… 

 

A clink . Metal on metal rattling as it bounced along a roof back and in the distance towards the start..

 

‘Something thrown. Not Midoriya.’

 

He didn’t fall for it, standing at his perch as he maintained his sightlines above the smoke.

 

‘Where is he?’

 

He got his answer when one of the fake cars that lined the street was thrown out of the smoke at him.

 

He caught sight, for a split second, as the smoke cleared to show Midoriya, his mask drawn high over his face and hood raised, sparking green electricity over his form and familiar red markings along the shoulders of his outfit-

 

Then the car was filling his vision, blocking the teen from sight. 

 

All Might caught the car around the sides, and flexed. Even with the car being an aluminum and plastic framework, and not having an actual engine, it had enough mass that he had to flex slightly to catch it, his hands crumpling around the wheel wells as he gripped it, and ripped it in half, throwing the front and back halves of the prop away to each side, but frowning at what he saw.

 

In the split second his vision had been blocked, Midoriya had vanished, leaving smoke swirling behind him. 

 

Taking a moment to assess, All Might glanced around before another car came flying towards him, this one from further up the street-

Reaching up, he backhanded it, eyes roaming for where the car had been thrown for-

 

Midoriya was hanging on the car.

 

Even as the car was knocked aside, Izuku was revealed, hands gripping the aluminum frame as he twisted with the prop, before planting his feet and swinging it like a baseball bat, twisting to swing the entire car back around towards All Might’s back.

 

And All Might was out of position to respond, his limbs slowed just enough by the weighted bracelets that he couldn’t get his hands up to brace for the impact.

 

The entire car, aluminum and plastic, shattered as it impacted against All Might’s back-

 

And knocked the hero off the side of the building.

 

‘Huh. That was unexpected.’

 


Aizawa ducked around the swing of a Bo-Staff, watching as it sparked against the railing next to them as Kirshima crashed through the wall, his quirk deactivating… but brass knuckles swinging anyway. Forcing him to leap back, the metal skating across the brick wall.

 

It had been tense for the last fifteen minutes, but it seems that the two had finally come to terms on something. They were pushing past him, trying to disable him even as they herded him towards the exit. The fact that Yaoyorozu had started this by using a beartrap on his capture scarf was the real issue

 

Honestly, Aizawa was also somewhat pissed at the weights.

 

He didn’t have a physical quirk, and the extra half of his bodyweight he was lugging around meant that he was having to work much harder to actually do his normal acrobatic fighting style.

 

Kirishima rushed him again, brass knuckles gleaming as they swung through the air, and Aizawa shifted, catching one arm and throwing him over his shoulder, down the street-

 

But before he could get around to put him down, the bo-staff slammed into his side, sparks arcing across his chest and making him flinch. Bracing he caught the staff and pushed it aside, ignoring the sparks only to huff in surprise as Kirishima tackled him from the side, fully hardened.

 

By the time the fighting was over, he had one of the detainment cuffs on and was groaning from what he was fairly sure was a cracked rib, and both the teens were panting over him.

 

“Are we done?”

 

“Yeah. You both pass. Ow.”

Chapter 10: The Objectives Always Matter

Summary:

I AM FINISHING THIS FUCKING FIGHT, I SWEAR TO GOD IT'S BEEN A FUCKING YEAR AND A HALF OF THE FINAL EXAM.

Chapter Text

Izuku twisted, adjusting his posture as he fell to the roof, watching All Might’s surprised expression as he stumbled off the roof with half of the fake car wrapped around him - it was already tearing apart, the frame ripping into shreds as All Might shifted to land. The point was that All Might was now in the streets, and with the rising clouds of smoke… It was time for the next step in his half assembled plan.  

 

Evasion.  

 

Across Izuku’s arms and legs, there was a faint flicker of Full Cowl, a fraction of a percent, and he was darting low and into a side alley, kicking off a wall and through a falling bloom of smoke drifting from roofs…

 

He twisted, minimizing the drag on the smoke, slipping through the air like a diver into water.

 

‘It feels so natural using the smoke for concealment and distraction. Adding smoke grenades to my arsenal was a good idea. I need to congratulate Mei on the improvements.’ The thoughts passed through his head at a sprint even as the mask filtered out the smoke. It was only a minor irritant, nothing like pepper spray or tear gas, but enough to make anyone who ran headlong into the clouds cough, distracting them.

 

‘And All Might’s lungs aren’t the best these days.’

 

The deep cough was right on cue, echoing from the central street as Izuku dove through an already shattered window, darting over shards of glass and through the hazy internal halls of the building, shifting the way he ran to lessen the sounds of his footsteps as he dashed through the main hallway, fake apartments to either side of him.

 

As he ran he swung low and snagged a chunk of glass, cracked but still larger than his chest, twisting and throwing it back towards the alley he had just left like a discus. The sharp sound of shattering glass covered his steps as he twisted out another window, dropping into a falling plume of smoke with his eyes squinted. A shout of ‘Smash’ cleared the smoke on the far side of the building, All Might reacting to the sound - but it also pushed more smoke in his direction.

 

Moving into the rolling wave of dark smoke, Izuku became a ghost, letting the push and pull of air pressure and the wave of the smoke hide him as he angled for the main street once more. 

 

His boots and legs were augmented with a fraction of his available power, a hum of energy that encased his legs and up his spine, diffusing even as it reached his shoulders- but catching and reacting with his steps. Each tap of his boot on the pavement sent his body flying, his torso tilted forwards as he felt himself practically skate across the stone, quiet shuffling lost in the sound of crumbling buildings and shattered glass around All Might.

 

He wasn’t aiming for the Hero though.

 

Bakugou hadn’t been knocked out, he had just been stunned . When he had grabbed him to carry him out of conflict, he had been dealing with half formed and slurred insults, but that was fine, tossing him onto a fire escape as he stole a gauntlet had been enough. But Kingpin had a good idea of how long the explosive teen would be staying down.

 

And he also knew that wherever the fight went, Bakugou would follow along.

 

Even if it brought them both to the finish line.

 

As he heard the first half-hearted explosion, now ahead of him, he made his move.

 

All Might, turning to look for the source of the explosion-

 

Bakugou, hand smoking and a dazed look still haunting his expression.

 

A split second where the blonds met eye to eye, surprise and disappointment reflecting off anger and uncertainty.

 

And then between them, wreathed in the gleaming sparks of full cowl, Midoriya Izuku sprinted past them, smoke dragged in his wake as he forced their eyes to follow him, to track the glance he tossed back, a flicker of green eyes at red and blue, before he turned away.

 

To the exit.

 

By the time Bakugou flipped from his perch and started blasting his way, still unsteady and off balance, All Might was already in hot pursuit. The ground cracked as the hero lunged up, aiming to intercept the teens.


With the finished testers

“What is he doing?” Sero frowned as he watched the cameras track Izuku, the duo of blonds bursting into action behind him, both moving to intercept or cut off the green haired teen. “Is this one of your rules?”

 

Mina frowned, squinting as if she was trying to read the notes from memory. “No. we were always told to avoid being chased if we could manage it.” 

 

“He’s playing the Objective.” Shouji rumbled, leaning back even as myriad eyes traced the events unfolding. “...And he’s making Bakugou follow him.”

 

“The exam ends if you either escape, or you cuff the hero.” Momo pulled a marker from her skin and started sketching on the table, following the line of thought for the rest of the watchers. “If Izuku’s decided that he can’t get the cuffs on All Might, at least not yet, then he might be playing for the other objective- to leave.” 

 

With a quick sketch she had a rough outline of the neighborhood, the objectives marked with two big circles, and a quick sketch of a bushy-haired chibi and a spiky-haired chibi going on a pair of index cards so she could move them around, as well as a third with the iconic All Might bangs.

 

“... So if Blasty won’t go to the exit willingly-” Jirou mused, only for Aoyama to perk up and finish the thought. Reaching over he dragged Chibi-Izuku towards the exit halfway, and pointed both Chibi-Bakugou and Chibi-Might after him with arrows, before tracing his finger past Izuku towards the exit.

 

“Then Izuku’s going to trick him there using his own anger and frustration..” Momo finished.

“So that’s what Izuku’s goal is… But what’s the how ? If that’s his plan, how is he going to get Bakugou through the exit?”


The exam

All Might lunged overhead, clearing the distance with a grand leap and twisting to face his protege - only for Izuku to twist and slam through the glass display window of a nearby store, shield unfolding and tanking the glass as he cut through the corner before booking it down the side street. All Might was forced to lunge up and across to reorient his chase, only to see Izuku dart past his landing zone, eyes glancing up with a flicker of green lightning before he bounded away.

 

He was less running now, more… almost skipping . Charged impacts from his feet cratered the street and sent him hurling forwards faster and farther, conserving inertia as he bounded and reoriented off walls and light posts, a zigzag of green lightning that raced through the city - and almost outpaced All Might’s usual methods, especially with the weights throwing off his balance…

 

But All Might knew the end point regardless.

 

Landing heavily, he aimed far past the nearby streets as he cut past the chase - with a grunt of exertion, he went flying up and ahead, overshooting the rest of the city streets and landing at the grand exit. Designed to mimic a highway underpass, the exit was a choke point, and as the Hero crashed into the street, he raised his fist up and slammed down.

 

With a rumble of force and energy, the street shattered . The clear paths towards him were reduced to rubble, a small overpass over a ditch destroyed and the street ahead of him collapsing into a trench that gave him the high ground. The few cars that had been providing any form of cover slammed into and cluttered up the edges of the buildings, and with a clap for good measure, the dust that had been thrown into the air was blown away, leaving no room for stealth or cunning here.

 

If they wanted to pass him, they would have to face him.

 


 

Bakugou twisted around a corner, another blast wreathing his arms to send him arcing over the buildings.

 

All Might had leapt ahead, but he could see the flickering green of Deku ahead, slower now, but still bouncing through alleys towards the exit, even with the ring of dust and rubble that surrounded it. The ache in his head, the dizziness, was mostly gone, drowned out by the adrenaline in his system.

 

As Deku landed on a roof at the edge of the fake district, Katsuki couldn’t help but growl as he launched himself at the green-haired teen.

 

“DEKU!”

 

He wound up, aiming not a punch but a wide angled ‘flash’ of explosion, something that would catch and daze Deku so he could grab him and ask why the dork insisted on fucking everything up!

 

But instead, as he raised his palm and let loose a flash, Deku only raised that fucking shield again, sheilding the light and blast from his face.

 

Growling he tried to lunge forwards and get his fucking hands on-

 

A flash of movement and only a split second of eye contact, and suddenly Bakugou was face down on the gravel of the roof, arm twisted so that his own palm was pressed to his ear - and he froze in panic.

 

“I just saved your sorry ass.” 

 

Deku’s voice was soft… and steel clad. He was stating a fact.

 

“And honestly, if not for the fact that our grade is on the line, I was really tempted to let All Might make you a smear on the pavement and just book it for the exit. But this is a cooperative game, Katsuki.” Metal-wreathed fingers dug into his hair and pulled his face from the gravel, Izuku leaning down from where he was kneeling, Katsuki’s other arm stretched out and the forearm pinned under his knee.

 

With the mask, hood, and the odd angle, Katsuki couldn’t help it - he was unsettled.

 

“But that was the last time I save your ass from your own goddamn arrogance. Not until you learn that teamwork is a fucking life skill.” Shoving his face back down, Izuku shoved up and off, Katsuki scrambling in the gravel until he was a few feet away and back on his feet.

 

Izuku didn’t even give him the benefit of his attention.

 

He was back at the edge, looking down at All Might from the cover of an air conditioner unit at the edge of the building.

 

“Be glad All Might isn’t leaving his place, by the way. He saw your fucking flashbang earlier.”

 

Wiping off the grime from the roof and picking a bit of gravel from his hair, Katsuki wanted to swear. But he was still reeling. Still staggered by Izuku’s cold tone.

 

“Right. I’m breaking for the exit, and I suggest you do the same.”

 

With a return of the green sparks Deku took off across the rooftops for a better angle of attack, leaving Katsuki to stew, surprise and… fear in his heart.

 

But Bakugou Katsuki was never good at fear.

 

And so as he gritted his teeth and pushed up, he fell back on old habits.

 

He drew on Anger.

 

He’d show Deku! 

 

HE’D SHOW THE FUCKING NERD!

 

With a cry of battle, he launched himself over the ledge, charging towards All Might with single-minded focus.

 

The next few moments were a blur of blinding flashes, pain, and All Might’s vaguely disapproving commentary - but Katsuki didn’t- couldn’t care.

 

He gave it his all, rage and frustration fueling him where discipline failed.

 

But soon enough he faltered.

 

His arms and hands were blistered, his suit scorched from the heat of his own blasts, the area around All Might charred and blackened with ash and soot.

 

He had even left his mark- a pair of twin scorch marks that stretched across the man’s forearms from an overpowered blast.

 

But as he staggered back, sweat dripping and hands seized up with pain and pressure, he could only look up at the implacable facade of All Might, face pulled into a frown.

 

“Don’t…look down…on m-”

 

A flicker of green lightning slammed into Katsuki’s side.

 

With a shout, he was forced to tuck and roll, the force strong enough to throw him across the concrete and past All Might, blistered skin scraped and bloodied as he rolled to a stop.

 

As he looked up, pain shooting through him, he saw Deku at his side, looking back at the entrance to the tunnel- and All Might.

 

"Exam Over, Heroes have escaped the city." Came the automated message, filtering through to Bakugou like it was coming through a deep water as he looked back at the gateway around All Might.

 

As Katsuki lay there, stunned, he put it together.

 

He had been tackled over the finish line.

 

Deku… Deku had won.

 

On his own terms.

Notes:

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