Chapter 1: SEGMENTA I AD III – OBLĀTIŌ
Chapter Text
Working on the Sabbath? What a bad Christian he was… little Ibara-chan at the weekly bible study would be so disappointed.
But that was the nature of hero work; he needed to burn the midnight oil to manage the Byzantine tax paperwork for his one-man agency because he could neither afford a secretary nor a poor sidekick to pawn this off to. Alas, not even Jesus Christ himself could banish the National Tax Agency from the temple if they had sniffed out a single missing yen.
Sign here. Check this. Check that. No, he wasn’t a non-profit. No, he did not make more than 8 million yen in revenue this quarter. Yes, his business was outside the border of Tokyo proper- fuckin’ mayor Katou and his bullshit agency tax. No, his company did not meet the requirement of having at least 33% of his workforce having mutant quirks and 5% being quirkless for the diversity tax credit because it had a grand total of one employee: him.
As he reached for his coffee with the third arm sticking out his back and took a sip from a mouth grown on his neck, he used his other two hands to massage the growing headache.
…Shit, the lines and boxes were starting to meld together and he was getting tired. He needed a distraction.
Ping!
The email notification came from his ancient, half-broken laptop. He almost dreaded whatever it was that he would find.
From: [email protected]
Fuck! He just had to tempt fate. What’d The Rat want?
Subject: Teaching Position at UA
This… This has got to be a prank. Why in God’s name would The Rat look to him of all people to teach at his most illustrious institution. He was expelled after less than a week, for Christ’s sake!
As he read further, it slowly dawned on him how serious Nezu was about his offer. Sure, he was one of the few non-retired heroes that held an education degree- a degree which, now that he thought about it, was collecting dust somewhere in one of these overstuffed drawers.
But still! Surely there was someone more qualified than some creepy-looking D-Lister who patrols a boring Tokyo suburb.
“You have got to be shitting me,” He muttered.
Ping!
From: [email protected]
Subject: No, I am, in fact, not excreting you.
His back arm retracted into his body, dropping the empty mug, letting it shatter on the floor. Four more grew out of his sides to hold his head in anguish.
What else could one do in the face of what was obviously divine punishment?
~~~~~
“HEYYY!!! NEWBIE!” Seven of his eardrums popped like popcorn right then and there. Present Mic peeked over his shoulder as he looked over the profiles Nezu had compiled for each student of Class 1-A, “Sheesh… he’s really throwing you into the deep end…”
“Tell me about it.”
From a glance, he could immediately pick out five potential problem children.
Midoriya Izuku – An extremely late bloomer with a marshmallow face who pulped his limbs to destroy the Zero Pointer. Psych evaluations conducted by Nezu’s AIs do not match with the atrociously delinquent record depicted in his middle school transcript. Should be investigated further…
Bakugou Katsuki – Acted like a goddamn lunatic the entire test, screaming at the other test-takers and told them to die. This one also managed to break a record for the highest amount of villain points without a single rescue point at 77, shattering the previous from Todoroki Enji by 20 points thirty years earlier. Yet, somehow, his transcript was cleaner than a nun’s knickers.
And worst of all, he went to the same middle school as Midoriya. Just another problem that needs solving.
Kouda Kouji – Crippling phobia of insects, and selective mutism.
Mineta Minoru – Weird teenage hormonal behavior. Inappropriate sexual displays, peeping… Okay, this kid needs a more thorough background check. This screamed CSA to him.
And Finally, Todoroki Shouto – A blank fucking piece of paper, which raised more red flags than a Chinese May Day parade, given how secretive the Todorokis have been.
He had a feeling that he was going to have frequent phone calls with Hound Dog.
Dear Lord, why did he even bother getting that bachelors in Education… Oh, right, because he wanted to be the teacher who gave an actual shit about his students’ wellbeing.
Now, how does he make his new pupils feel welcome at UA?… He said out loud, unknowingly.
“I have an idea~” A seductive voice came from the corner – Kayama was posing on the lounge chair.
~~~~~
Kaminari Denki was a little bit nervous about his first day at UA…
Okay, he was scared shitless, but he was at least trying to keep his anxiety covered under a casual exterior, so that should count for something. But, the fact that his watch was telling him that it was two minutes after 9 was doing little to help with his blood pressure.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…” He muttered as a mantra.
He didn’t take the time to admire the ginormous door, throwing it open to reveal…
“Oh, thank God!”
…Eighteen curious stares from his classmates (plus a frothing glare from the kid with glasses doing a robot dance), and no teacher in sight.
“Oh, Kaminari! I didn’t know you had a twin!” A pink-skinned girl with horns cheered.
Twin?
…
…
…
Denki double-checked the seating chart provided with the orientation papers, and looked to where he was supposed to be sitting. A mirror image was staring back unblinkingly with dull eyes and a slasher smile.
“Kaminari…” From his… whatever it was, came a deep baritone, undercut with a slight clicking sound, “ …You’re late.”
“AHH!” “OH FUCK!” “SON OF A–!” Those in the seats all around scurried away like cockroaches under a flashlight as the thing’s smile literally went to its ears and its teeth sharpened to fishbone-thin needles.
Crack! Crick! C-c-crackle…
Denki damn near shit himself as the thing got up from his seat, and stretched to an unnatural height, spine popping all the way, before morphing into a tan, scrawny 20-something man with eerily straight, pitch-black hair. The smile shrunk into a faint toothy grin.
“...”
The man walked up to the front. The class was dead silent (he could almost hear a gnat fart, that’s how quiet it was) – they remained frozen in fear as the man grabbed a marker and started writing on the whiteboard.
伊得 生獣恣意
Ie Narujuushii
“Good morning, class. My name is Ie Narujuushii, and I will be your homeroom teacher for this year…” The man spoke in the same deep baritone, sans clicking. Slowly, the air in the classroom started to lighten up as everyone relaxed (except for the glasses kid, who was still stiff as a board).
“Who is he?” A short kid with grapes for hair muttered under his breath.
“Your first lesson: Don’t be late.” He emphasized the point by slapping the podium, “Every time a hero is late, civilians die. Speaking of which,” His head twitched into an eerily still tilt, “The Entrance Ceremony starts in 5 minutes.”
“...” Nobody moved.
“What? You’re not toddlers. I shouldn’t need to hold your hands all the way to the auditorium,” In an instant, his left arm branched into a dozen-something spindly limbs, all of them pointing to the door, “GO!”
Everyone jumped out of their seats and bolted to the door, almost crushing Denki in the stampede. He was never ignoring a bad gut feeling again.
Chapter 2: SEGMENTA IV AD VII – TAXĀTIŌ
Chapter Text
“Now, this is something of a tradition for First-Year Hero Course students, and unlike my… predecessor,” That word was spoken with a noticeable amount of venom, “I am not an iconoclast who abuses the privileges UA affords its teachers. You all remember the Assessment Test from P.E. class, right?”
The whole class nodded, Izuku included. After the entrance ceremony, Ie-sensei had them change into their gym uniforms and line up outside at one of the training fields.
For the life of him, Izuku couldn’t place who this guy really was or where he knew him from. But, whoever he was, he was causing the otherwise stoic Shouji to practically jump for joy like a school girl meeting her idol crush. Or… him meeting All Might the first time.
Clearly, the man was a hero, otherwise he wouldn’t be teaching here at UA, but Izuku could scarcely recall anything about–
Wait. Relatively young, unsettling transformation quirk, a flair for the disturbing, and crucifix barely hidden under his collar?...
Oh… OH!
He was– “The Visceral Hero: Fleshgait!”
“Guilty as charged, Midoriya, but please try not to interrupt again,” The hero chastised.
Izuku went beet red and shrunk into his gym uniform, “Sorry, Fleshgait-sensei!”
“Now, Uraraka-san, please come to the circle. How far would you say you were able to throw the ball back in middle school?”
“Uh… 24… 25 meters, I think?”
Fleshgait-sensei threw a ball to Uraraka. She almost dropped it.
“Try using your quirk. You may do whatever you want, as long as you stay within the circle.” The hero instructed.
Uraraka threw the ball, and it went up…
And up…
And up…
Fleshgait’s neck split apart into a portal of swirling flesh (provoking a bone deep chill for most of the class) and he reached in and pulled out something that resembled a radar gun. He pointed it at the ball–
Beep!
–And showed the results to the rest of the class.
[INFINITY]
“Whoa…” “Wow!” “Awesome!” “Manly!” His classmates exclaimed in awe. Uraraka sheepishly returned to her spot in the line-up, nervously twiddling with her fingers at the attention.
“This is the Quirk Assessment Test.” Fleshgait-sensei declared, “You will not only be graded by your athletic ability, but also how you apply yourself and your quirks. Now, Aoyama…”
Oh man, he’s so gonna fail this…
“Now Midoriya, don’t blow up your entire bod–” Narujuushii started.
BOOM!
Out of nowhere, a massive shockwave blasted out from the circle, shattering the windows of a nearby building. Jirou screamed, covering her ears.
“Sensei… I can still move…” Midoriya croaked as he lifted up a fist, his index finger was purple and flopping around uselessly.
God in heaven, why didn’t they assign this kid a quirk councilor?…
“Midoriya?”
“Y-yes, Sensei?” Midoriya winced.
“You’re suspended until further notice. Go to the nurse’s office. I’ll be seeing you after class.”
Midoriya needed to get his quirk under control. If he kept destroying like this, then he was due for a very short career in heroics. A plan needed to be made, maybe training outside of class under the supervision of a specialist and Shuuzenji.
But, while he was more than willing to give second and even third chances, if the boy could not shape up by the Sports Festival, he could not, in good conscience, keep him in the hero course.
“EEEEHHHHH!?” Tears welled up in Midoriya’s eyes as he gripped his deformed finger. Before he could argue, Narujuushii spoke again.
“Jirou, follow him. You need treatment too.”
The girl pulled her hands from her ears, revealing blood dripping down her jacks.
“Sensei, I’m fin–” Jirou tried to insist. The effect of her brave face was spoiled by the tremor in her too-quiet voice.
Bakugou tore free from Kirishima’s placating grip and set off small explosions in the palms of his hands, making Jirou sway as the blood rushed from her face.
“DEKU!!! WHAT THE FUCK WAS–Hrphh! HRRRM! MMMRRRRH!” Bakugou’s muffled screams were accompanied by the sharp pops of his quirk.
The dust cleared, revealing a limb sticking out from Narujuushii’s hip. It was unnaturally long, spanning 20-something feet with its seven elbow-like joints zig-zagging back and forth, and at the end, multiple hands stuck out, restraining the explosive blonde problem child with chitinous fingers not unlike spider legs.
“Now is not the time to be testing the limits of my patience, Bakugou…” He warned through a gritted, far-too-wide smile.
Same issue as Midoriya for this one – if he wasn’t able to keep himself in check, then he had no business in the sensitive field of heroics.
Half the students were unbearably shy, not used to receiving so much as a smile, and the other half were suicidal arguments against Darwinism and Evolution itself. God dammit, he was due for a long call with Inui.
This class was going to be the death of him.
No one had warned him just how hard teaching would be. Really, Narujuushii had gone into this thinking he was already jaded to the cruel ways of the world and every little way teenagers can be exhausting.
But as Midoriya went into a sobbing nervous breakdown in the nurse’s office, and explained through stuttered self-deprecating words and hiccuping sobs just how he’d gotten his quirk, why it was so destructive and out of control-
Narujuushii was going to skin All Might. Symbol of Peace be damned!
“I promise S-sensei, I’ll make it up to you! Please just–”
He raised his hand, cutting off the kid’s pleas to be let back into the Hero Course, “Alright, stop. Stop. Listen, we’re not kicking you out of UA – you’re still in Class 1A.” Who did he look like? Aizawa? “We’re just… taking a breather and letting you catch up. We’re gonna get you with a quirk counselor, and you’ll learn to control your quirk. Yes, your quirk, I don't give a damn who gave it to you.”
He breathed a heavy sigh, a hand forming out of his neck to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Here’s what you're gonna do for now- go home, meditate on your quirk, whatever you gotta do. Your suspension is lifted, but until I feel confident that you can control your power, you’ll be sitting out on Heroics classes and taking notes instead.”
Midoriya’s eyes widened, “But.. Ie-Sensei, I'm already so far behind, if I miss out on class I’ll be weaker than everyone else, and then I won’t impress any Heroes at the Sports Festival, and that’ll put me even further behind, and All Might will be so disappointed-”
Narujuushii put a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. The kid was nearly hyperventilating, if a villain didn't kill him first, the stress of the job would.
“Midoriya, listen to me when I say this- and don't forget it. I will not allow you to fail as long as you still want to be a hero. If it takes the two of us staying late to train every damn day, we’ll do it. Meet me halfway, commit yourself to becoming a Hero, and I’ll get you where you want to go.”
The amount of tears that followed was overwhelming, but Midoriya was heading home with a shaky grin and tear-stained cheeks.
Now, to give the Symbol of Peace a piece of his mind.
Toshinori was relatively pleased with how the first day of classes went, all in all.
Well, to be honest, the suspension had caught him off guard. He had gone to Nezu to fight it- really, Midoriya was just showing resilience and creative problem-solving, and shouldn't that be encouraged?- but got shut down. There were no ridiculous rules about so-called “safety” when Toshinori attended UA, back then teachers and students both understood that Heroics was a dangerous career to pursue, and that injury was inevitable.
Honestly, these new generations were too soft.
“Hey! Yagi!”
Toshinori froze, fighting the shiver that ran down his back.
“Ah, Ie! Come to pick an old timer’s brain for advice?” He said as he turned to face Fleshgait, putting on a charismatic smile.
The other man scoffed, “I wouldn't take advice from you if you were the last goddamn Pro Hero on Earth.”
Toshinori winced, “That’s a bit harsh, I was brought in to teach Heroics this year for a reason, after all-”
“You were brought in because the school needed to pull its reputation out of the shitter after that stunt Eraserhead pulled. But talking about that is not the reason I’m here, Yagi.”
“Okay… So why-”
“Sit down, shut up, and listen.”
His eyes widened at the contempt in Fleshgait’s voice.
Ie looked him up and down before he spoke, “I know your secret. The one with Midoriya.”
Toshinori froze, blood leaking from the corner of his lip.
“I’ve been thinking on it, and you know, I just can’t imagine why you thought it was a good idea to Shanghai a middle schooler into your bullshit.” He continued, taking a steadying breath, “You know as well as I do that there are people far more equipped to help you, and that just about any third year or fledgling hero would jump at the chance to work with you, damn the consequences.”
Fleshgait took a step toward Toshinori.
“So… Imagine my shock when I found out that a centuries-long legacy was dumped onto the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old boy.” Toshinori’s heart began to pound just a little harder in his chest.
Ie laughed humorlessly, “Fucks sake, Yagi, the kid hasn't even finished puberty yet.” He shook his head, starting to mutter to himself, “Hell, in my professional opinion, heroics shouldn’t even be taught to high-schoolers in the first place. Other, more rational countries has it as a post-secondary career path, where the minimum age is 18… Just as if you were applying to be a policeman or enlisting for the military. And you just…” He trailed off.
“You can’t tell anyone, the damage-” He stuttered out through building unease.
“Yes, I know. Your secret’s safe with me. And so is your protégé.”
… What?
Ie continued, “I don't give a shit who you are, or who came before you, my job as Midoriya’s teacher is to keep him safe and give him the tools and support he needs to become a hero. And I have no doubt that he will be a hero one day.”
“Fleshgait, with all due respect-”
“‘I don’t know enough to help him,’ right? ‘I can support the kid better than you can’ … Is that what you were going to say?”
Toshinori paused for a moment, rethinking his word choice after the fact.
“I don’t know about you, but I do actually have a degree in Hero Education. It’s been collecting dust for a little bit, but I do have it. And at the end of the day, as far as the world is concerned, Midoriya is just a boy with a quirk he can’t control. That, right there, is my jurisdiction, not yours.”
Ie sighed, rubbing one unnaturally shaped hand down his face.
“Listen. I won't stand in the way of your mentoring of the kid, as long as you don’t try to undermine my authority. You took in an abused quirkless child and turned him into a glass cannon, for Christ’s sake, and I won't let Midoriya die or cripple himself on my watch.” Ie sounded exhausted as he finished his statement, staring blankly at Toshinori as if expecting him to pull rank or start a fight.
“... He has the spirit of a hero, Ie. I didn’t think he would need any of that, the quirk counseling or extra support, I didn’t get any of that when I was in his shoes.” Toshinori was caught between guilt and defensiveness- he really did care for Midoriya, but..
“Don’t you want him to have a better life than you did? Isn’t the point of being a hero to make it all easier for the next generation?”
The words shot through Toshinori like a bullet.
Didn’t he- He was-
Fleshgait patted his arm, the skin of his palm malleable and cool to the touch. “Have a good afternoon, Yagi.”
As Ie turned and walked away, Toshinori felt something buried in the neglected depths of his heart begin to break.
The next day, during his first meeting with Hound Dog, Young Midoriya had made a breakthrough with One For All. The boy was sobbing a waterfall of tears and thanks as he demonstrated a kick using 1% of the power without hurting himself.
Toshinori couldn’t be prouder.