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There’s this famous quote from the hero QuickShot that goes like this: “As society progresses, people have become more accepting and tolerant of one another. I look back on my life growing up, and my mother’s life before that, and I’m astonished by how hateful the world used to be. But bit by bit I’ve seen us all grow into a community that loves unconditionally regardless of differences. I am a testament that it’s not your quirk that makes you a hero, it's your hard work and tenacity. No matter your quirk, with a passion in your heart, you too can be a hero. I believe in you.”
That’s a sweet sentiment and it means well but, QuickShot has never been quirkless. And they certainly don't believe in them.
---
Izuku Midoriya stopped going to school young. Not by choice obviously, he’s always been eager to learn, but by circumstance.
At the ripe age of five, he learned he had that little extra joint in his pinky toe that meant he’d never manifest a power, that he’d never be normal. At first, the only grief to be had was his own. Followed quickly by his mom who apologized for weeks straight. And finally, the rest of the world joined in. Not in a hateful way, no that would be better. It was in a pitying way.
They would say, “Oh, I heard about your son and his… condition.” Or, “Have you thought about putting him into a ‘special’ school?” And the worst and most annoying one, “You’re so brave.”
Midoriya had always been a brave kid, he’s stood up for what he believes in since he was in daycare. Shakily holding a stick in honor of the kid Kachann, his childhood friend, chose to bully that day. Tears threatening to spill over the entire time he yells at them to leave the kid alone.
He’s been brave for his character, not for his abilities or lack thereof.
His mom had been brave too, she always advocated for him to be treated like a normal kid. She stood by him when the world wouldn’t. And she loved him until her last breath.
That day, when his world turned to ash and smoke. When he was jolted awake by part of his celling crashing inches away from his bed, shaking the apartment. His room was painted in reds and oranges, it felt like he somehow woke up within an active oven rather than his bedroom.
The smoke detector baring from just outside his door breaks him out of his haze. He scrambled for the handle, burning his palm from the hot metal.
“Mom?” He screamed in confusion.
There was no reply.
“Mom?” He got louder as he grabbed a thick hoodie to cover the handle.
He threw his door open and got hit by a wall of smoke. His vision was blurry but he could see the flames perfectly fine. His apartment, his life was set completely ablaze. And from what he could manage, his mom’s door is cracked open.
Midoriya crept closer, pushing into her room, “Mom?” he tried again.
There in her bed was Inko Midoriya, pinned to her mattress by a support beam and part of her bookshelf. Her right arm was crushed and her head was spouting an open wound. In that moment she had looked so peaceful, like she had finally had a moment of nothing but rest. It was almost serine in a way. Maybe Midoriya would become a famous artist by painting her death. ‘Freed by Fire’ he’d call it.
The ceiling cracks overhead, debris coating his pajamas.
“Izuku?” His mom’s barely heard from over the roaring flames.
“Mom it’s me.” He pleads as he starts forward towards her, only to be stopped by the concrete overhead crashing down in front of him. He falls backwards onto his hands.
Inko reaches out to her son as if it’s a reflex, “Izuku-- Izuku you have to get out.” Her words nothing more than a whisper.
“What? No Mom I can’t, I won’t leave without you.” He cries out.
“Baby I love you more than you’ll ever know, and I know you’re going to grow up to do something truly special. The world needs someone kind Izuku. I need you to get out before it’s too late. For me, please.”
He shakily get up to his feet, stepping forward once more to his mom. More ceiling cracks and falls around them.
“Izuku please!” She shrieks with all the strength she could muster. “I love you, baby, I can’t bear to see you like this.”
To this day Izuku doesn’t know what part of him made him leave his mom. Maybe it was the smoke, maybe it was the knowledge that they’d both die if he stayed, maybe it was knowing he didn’t want to watch his mom pass away.
But when the building came down and the heros could only find Inko’s body and the few remains of his room. They logged the Midoriya’s deceased. And from the woods behind the remnants of his home he watched. Who knows how long he was watched. Could have been 30 seconds, could’ve been 5 minutes. To him it felt like years. It’s almost an out-of-body experience. Like a ghost hovering beyond the world of the living, witnessing himself become erased, as tears stream down his face
That day both Izuku and Inko Midoriya died.
----
So yeah, Midoriya hasn’t attended school since he became legally dead from the collateral damage of Endevor’s low-stakes villain fight.
He also hasn’t lived in a house, made friends his age, or gotten a job in the past 10 years or so. But he’s grateful and makes do with what he has. Hopping from building to building has always been annoying, but about a year ago a rundown place became his permanent residence. It’s got rotten, sturdy-ish cabinets, wooden floors with little to no nails sticking out, and a cut-off water supply that was easy enough to fix with a wrench and a good attitude.
Throughout the months he’s been slowly adding to the place, trinkets and hero merch littered all over. A few bins full of clothes and a cheap sewing machine he got at a yard sale he uses to fix his gear. Right next to the boarded-up door is a bunch of makeshift workout equipment. Each weight was personally stolen from various hero agencies. The counter houses his shitty burner phone, without it he wouldn’t get half the work he does today done.
The only thing missing in this place is a mattress, those are huge and hard to transport.
Sleeping on a pile of old rags and clothes is still pretty comfortable; he lies to himself as his bones creak in protest. The stolen police radio just crackled to life and started calling all available units to the west side to aid in a villain fight.
Mid day has never been his first choice when it came to doing his work. It might be cliché, but working in the shadows is much more efficient and has a substantially less amount of risk of being caught. Plus the day is when he does online school and research on his targets.
But knowing most if not all of the police will be on the other side of the city while he investigates an up and coming drug ring, it’s just too good of a chance to pass by.
He grabs his gear, (some sweats thrown over skateboard safety equipment, including the helmet) and his phone before taking off out of the window.
He doesn’t make it to the drug ring.
He makes it about 4 miles away from the drug ring before hearing someone screaming bloody murder. It was a kid, a boy, his age. Hands bound behind him and blood leaking out of his neck. His uniform still on and intact save for a few slashes from a knife on his left sleeve. Other than the blood he’s not in any real danger from what it seems.
RightoffthebatI’dassumesomeformofbullyingoracrudejokehoweverIrememberreadingaboutasimilarincidentthathappenedtoagirlatanorphangefromherroommatesomaybethisisconnectedIdontrememberhearinganythingaboutthegirlbeingcaughtsoI’dassumeshefledandhasbeenavoidingathourity’ssofarprobablyduetoherorafriendsquirkorshe’sincredibletactileandavoidant.
“H-Hello? Is someone out there? I can hear you talking. Please help me! I’m bleeding out and I can’t leave!” The schoolboy calls out.
Shit he was muttering again. A bad habit he hasn’t really been able to curve.
He drops down from the widow he had perched on, taking out some bandages from his pockets as he crosses the room towards the boy.
“Hi yeah sorry my bad.” Midoriya mumbles.
“No, no thank you so much. I thought I was going to die here.” The kids’ breathed a sigh of relief between his sobs, voice hoarse from the screaming for who knows how long.
Midoriya quickly undid the restraints and bandaged the wound. Waiting for the boy to book it out of there.
“I um, thank you for helping me.” Midoriya shifts his weight from side to side, he’s not that great with the aftermath of attacks. He tends to leave it to the professionals since they’re paid to be good at it.
The boy continues, “It all happened so fast, like one moment my girlfriend is leading behind this alley and then all of a sudden her face is melting off and she looks like some blonde chic!? Who then slashes at me with a knife before lapping at the blood like some psycho vampire!”
Definitely quirk related then midoriya notes in his head before following up with, “Is your girlfriend an orphan?” Yikes that one came out rough.
“What? Um, yeah I guess. Yeah she is.” He squints at him, “Why?”
“Was she recently attacked by her foster sister?”
“Shit yeah she was, was that girl the same chic?”
“I believe so, I would be vigilant but overall I believe you have little chance of being targeted again.”
She seems to be attacking once every few weeks, and call it hunch but he really feels like she’s not a major threat.
The boy nods in understanding but doesn’t leave.
“So uh,” Midoriya begins. “Do you live close by? Or should I call an ambulance?”
“Oh, are you not supposed to like, walk me home to ensure my safety or something?”
“No. Not really. I don’t really do that.”
“What do you mean you don't do that? You’re a hero aren’t you?”
“Um not really.”
“What?”
“Called an ambulance, bye.” Midoriya takes off and scales the wall up to and out of the window.
It’s nearing sunset now, going straight to the ring would most likely be best. However, a quick stop at a library wouldn’t hurt anyone.
The Miagi library was old, the city redid the inside a few years back, but the outside remains cracked and dirty. The right sidewall still has faint remnants of graffiti along with the red bricks. Dull blues and whites only become more meaningful with age.
The area that housed the computers had gotten more funding also.
He skimmed through some local news letters and looked into the logs of the children admitted to the foster home. The attacker was a 16 year old girl, Himiko Toga, with a transformation quirk. Her papers claim she was put into foster care after an incident regarding her killing and consuming the blood of a bird. Her family sent her in hopes of her getting the care she needed to prevent bloodlust however it seemed the foster parents couldn’t provide enough to sustain her health and well being. In last seen photos of her she appeared pale and malnourished due to the lack of food (blood) and or iron. And after attacking one of the other children at the home she fled and has yet to be found.
Midoriya chewed on his lip as he put all the information into a document. Mulling over what the best course of action would be. He could send the file over to Tsukauchi, let him figure it out. He could alert local authorities and hope they don’t throw her in jail to rot. Or he could go after her himself.
Then what? Find her a home and a consistent source of blood? Feed and house her if he can’t find anyone?
His fingers tap on the table while he stares up at the ceiling. The calm grey of the ceiling reminds him of the first time he got caught and thrown into an interrogation room.
It was his sloppiest night, his worst job honestly. He was a fresh preteen, barely starting puberty, and was running off fumes. He had spent 37 hours working nonstop to find some trafficker and the sleep deprivation had finally caught up to him.
--
Midoriya was cuffed to a table in a cold grey room. All those cop shows were scarily accurate from the giant two way mirror all the way to the scowling plain looking detective that walks through the door.
“Detective Tsukauchi,” the man greets him. “So you’re our newest vigilante running around the streets.” He threw out nonchalantly, putting a little emphasis on the vigilante as if to mock him.
Midoriya kept his head low to keep his hood in his face before speaking, “Who’s asking?”
Tsukauchi paused in front of him, staring at the lump of oversized clothing covering the cuffed kid in front of hum
“Are you-- are you pitching your voice lower?”
Midoriya’s eyes widened as he realized he had lowered his voice like a little kid pretending to be an adult.
“Uh, no.” Midoryia purses his lips. Jesus man lie a little better he thinks to himself. “This is what I sound like on a normal basis.” wow way better.
“Okay,” He gives Midoriya a once over as if to reevaluate him. “You’ve been found doing illegal ‘crime fighting’ activities.” He throws some air quotes around crime fighting. “And I’m here to ask you some questions before you’re put to trial.”
Midoriya stays quiet, weighing his options carefully.
If he stays and cooperates they’ll get what they want and build a rapoor on him which could bite him in the ass later. If he flees right now they’ll chase after him and he’ll have to go into hiding for a certain amount of time.
If he doesn’t leave and stays quiet while he endures the detectives questioning he could play the part of an emo kid who doesn’t answer to authority.
“Ahem,” Tsukauchi clears his throat. “Let’s begin.”
He places a recording device on the table.
“Please state your name.”
“...”
“Please state your name.”
“...”
Tsukauchi sighs and looks down at his clipboard, “If you at least answer yes or no this will go quickly and you will be moved to a holding facility rather than this room.”
It is easier to get out in a crowded hallway rather than a monitored room Midoriya considers.
“Okay.” He agrees and Tsukauchi gives a nod in appreciation.
“You are a vigilante of three-ish years going under the name, Apparition. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“You’re underage.”
“No.” Midoriya lied.
Tsukauchi paused, his eyes squinting minutely. He set his mouth in a line, about to dive in on the lie further.
“Detective, we need you on scene right now.” A woman with copper hair pops in.
“Shit.” Tsukauchi curses under his breath. “Give me a moment.”
The officer gives a quick nod and closes the door behind her.
“Listen kid, I know that the minute we pull you out of this room you’re going to disappear.” He states like it’s obvious.
Midoriya feigns surprise, “What me?”
Tsukauchi chuckles and shakes his head, “Look, take this,” he hands him a folded piece of paper. “Don’t keep endangering yourself would you? If you really can’t stop yourself from interfering with hero business, at least notify me.” He pats the note.
“And one more thing,” He looks at the two-way mirror and the camera. “The vent’s still loose from maintenance.” He shuts the door behind him.
Without a second thought, Midoriya climbed the table and scurried out the vent, note in his pocket.
Later he’d open the paper to find a number with a message ‘don’t do anything reckless’ scribbled next to it.
---
Yeah Tsukauchi is his best bet to get Toga the help she needs rather than a life sentence.
He sighed as he whips out his flip phone and opens a new text chain.
MESSAGES
Apparition: Hi again.
Tsukauchi: Stop contacting me through my personal number
Apparition: PNGfile.HimikoT
Tsukauchi: What is this?
Apparition: She’s the kid from the foster home that attacked her foster sister a few weeks back. She has a quirk that requires an intake of blood in order to live. She is attacking because she is extremely malnourished.
Apparition: Find a suitable living situation for her please. A healthcare worker or an excessive blood quirk user would be best and have minimal backlash. In fact, Vlad King is a fantastic option.
Tsukauchi: You cannot just give me impossible tasks and expect me to follow them.
Apparition added Shota Aizawa to the chat -
Apparition: Here’s his coworker.
Apparition: I’ll begin to release important files one by one until this is resolved. Nurture her now or fight her later.
Aizawa: Why do you have my number
Tsukauchi: Don’t release anything I will see what I can do
Apparition: Appreciate it.
Midoriya closed the chat and shoved his phone in his pocket. Still gotta check out that stupid drug ring he sighs to himself as he takes off out of the library.
-- -- -- -- --
Aizawa sighs at his phone and the knowledge that Apparition has his personal number. It’s not surprising considering that kids' knowledge knows no bounds. On top of having considerable knowledge on what he’d assume is most if not all heroes including their weaknesses, addresses, and all forms of contact. Apparition also has consistently fought and beat actual criminals while staying out of the public eye.
Few have heard of Apparition and fewer have seen him. He could probably count everyone who has had a good look at the shadow of a person. Himself of course, Tsukauchi, Sansa, and of course Nezu. His boss has taken quite an interest in the kid much to his dismay.
Such an interest that he had taken it upon himself to personally look into the damn ghost. The crazy part being that he’s found little to nothing on him. Being able to hide from the smartest creature in the world is no small feat. Nezu hasn’t stopped looking, even has a file on him.
It wasn’t a small folder, he had been an active vigilante for years. There were tons of arrest records along with sighting testimonies, but the file lacked any useful information.
No age, height, name, hell there wasn’t even eye color because the little shit wore tinted glasses.
Aizawa has heard what he assumes is the kid's real voice, every so often there ‘patrols’ over lap and they cross paths. Consciously or not the kid had been becoming more and more open with him the last few patrols. Even accepting some food from him. That one was huge. Not only did it imply he trusts Aizawa enough to consume something he provided without suspecting poison or drugging elements. It also meant he got some actual nutrients in him.
Apparition is practically being consumed by the mass of his sweats at all points. It’s logical for him, it conceals his figure in a way that makes it hard to know what his body looks like and also hides any potential weapons.
But one night during a fight, a chunk of his hoodie was shredded off, leaving a gash in where his abdomen sits. That night Aizawa realized something wasn't right with this kid. His muscle to weight ratio was completely off balance and on most counts this kid should be hospitalized or on a calorie efficient diet.
It worried him.
So he started carrying protein bars on him, throwing out an offer to give him one every now and then. And once Apparition started accepting them he upgraded the type of food. Aizawa has always been a nutrients pouch type of guy but he’s been stopping by a convenience store before every patrol to grab an onigiri or two just in case he comes across Apparition.
And he might be imagining it, but Apparition has seemed less sluggish since then. Which is also a point for concern if one small meal affects him this much.
The door swings open, slamming into the wall and adding to the scuffs already littering the wall.
“SHOTAAAAAA!” Hizashi calls out.
Aizawa rubs at his eyes, trying to stop the upcoming headache he feels brewing, “Living room.”
His husband threw his keys on the counter and plopped next to him onto the couch.
“Ughh, I shoulda taken off tonight. These kids’ English skills are getting worse and worse every year yo!” Hizashi groaned.
Aizawa nodded in agreement, “My homeroom has this kid who acts like he’s the best there’s ever been and the best there’ll ever be. Worst part is, I can’t fully reality check him because he’s consistently ranking in the top of the class in everything.”
“Ugh Bakugou.” Hizashi clicked his teeth. “Hate his attitude but damn can he write an essay.”
They shake their heads in unison.
Silence falls between them, a rare luxury between running around and working during their several jobs. Hizashi sits up and stretches his arms out then takes a deep breath before standing up.
“Alright Shou, I’ve got to go to the station and you’ve got to get some grading done before patrol starts.” Hizashi declares as she starts looking around. “Also have you seen my booth headphones?”
“Check the kitchen.” Aizawa suggests.
“Thanks!”
Aizawa grunts in acknowledgement and grabs a pile of homework, dropping the stack on the table. He stares at the mound of white thin slices of boredom and despair, eyes slowly drifting to the manilla folder.
He exhales a sharp breath out of his nose and snatches the file. Might as well see if he’ll be out.
“I’m heading out early, I’ll turn an early grave if I see another ‘there’ rather than ‘their’.” Aizawa announces to his husband.
“Alright! Do some good out there!” Hizashi yells from deep in their apartment.
He shuts the door, Hizashi’s words lingering in his head as he grips Apparitions folder a little tighter. Echoing again and again as he takes off into a back alleyway.
--
Shouta Aizawa’s night has been rough.
This morning he had to fill in for Maijima’s engineering class when some 3rd years gear blew up. Taking away a good nap and giving him a major headache.
Then he was added to a group chat with a vigilante and a detective.
And then he decided that he should leave for patrol early in hopes of finding said aforementioned vigilante.
Not only has he been working for an extra few hours, he’d also apparently been working one of the most tedious patrols of his career. Four attempted robberies, several assaults, twenty eight black out drunk civilians, two wanna be super villains, a gash on the side of his face, and he got called to help the police attempt a drug bust.
Said drug bust had turned into a chase down, separating him from the cops and fellow heroes, because he seemed to be the only one who saw a woman clearly on something take off from the warehouse undetected.
So now he’s here, fighting in a parking lot.
It wasn’t a hard fight persay, Aizawa had the upper hand the entire time obviously. Having decades of experience and training longer than she had been alive tends to keep you prepared for all situations. Not to count out the woman, she wasn’t inexperienced by any means but she was sluggish, slow, and very heavily relied on her quirk. Which has been nulled at the moment due to him activating his quirk.
“What are you freak?!” She screeched in between punches. “Where’s my quirk??”
Her eyes were wide with fear as she continued to fight, slowly taking on a more hit and run approach as she realized she had no chance of beating him quirkless.
Aizawa kept it up, each kick she threw was blocked, every punch was dodged. He sped it up to try and throw her off before he blinked and her quirk would be restored. But he also needed to keep the package of drugs she held undamaged for the police to research.
“Put the drugs down.” He threatens, his voice quiet and demanding.
She hugs the substance closer to her, kicking at him as she walks backwards. Her foot steps on a beer bottle, shattering it beneath her and knocking her off balance and straight to the ground. Her body hit the pavement hard, loose gravel scattered around her.
Aizawa quickly bent down to restrain her and as soon as he did she grabbed a handful of the debri and threw it at his face. In his eyes.
He blinked.
Within milliseconds her quirk was restored back to her. It was a type of tranquil she oozes from her fingers, normally an extremely weak quirk. But the substantial amount of the enhancer drug she intook during the raid upgraded it ten fold.
When Aizawa blinked and her hand, that she threw rocks with, connected with the gash on his cheek. He became completely paralyzed in an instant.
The woman’s demeanor changed, the terror she previously held transformed into an almost euphoric look. She stared down at her hands with a power hungry gaze. Her eyes sparkled with potential and her smile became manic.
Aizawa watched as she became drunk with power. Just like every thug that came before her.
She began to ramble about her life as she dragged his limp body to a wall hidden from street view.
“I was supposed to deliver this, this thing.” She tensed her arms to show off the pale green glow coursing throughout her. “I was hired to grab and supply or die trying. Now look at me,” she laughed. “About to kill some hobo with a hero licence.”
He was thrown against a brick wall, his body laid lifeless pointed up towards the cloudy sky. The moon shone through the clouds; illuminating her face as she stood over him tauntingly.
“You know how people always say ‘My first kill still haunts me’? You,” She points in his paralyzed face. “ You will become a memory I look back on fondly.”
She grins as she pulls out a handgun and points it at his temple.
Aizawa didn’t close his eyes.
He always knew his death wouldn’t be flashy. That's reserved for the daylight heroes. Deep down he always knew he’d end up dead in a back alley to a piece of alley trash.
So he stared as he waited for the finishing blow to strike down on him.
He watched in what felt like slow motion as the shard of glass came down and a fist connected with the woman’s face.
A fist. A fist?
She was knocked unconscious the moment she hit the ground.
Aizawa was grabbed by his collar; becoming face to face with some guy in a hoodie and tinted glasses.
The kid squinted at him, moving the hair out of Aizawa’s face. That’s when the recognition kicked in.
“Holy shit Eraserhead.”
If he could move his face he would show shock. He would show pride.
“What? Speechless?” Apparition grinned.
He would show annoyance.
Apparition laughed in his face, “Woah grumpy pants, be a little more grateful would you?”
His control over his facial movements is back apparently.
“No, I’m surprised that you can lift me up with those stick arms.” Aizawa deadpans.
Apparition scoffs and lets go of Aizawa, “Weak comeback, boooooo.”
“The woman was on drugs and used her quirk on me. Immobilising my entire body.”
Apparition cupped his mouth and began to mutter, “Ifyoujustgotaffectedaboutmaybeafewminutesagoorsoandyouhavealreadyregainedtheabilityofspeech.I’dassumethatatthisrateyou’llbeinfullcontrollofyourbodywithinroughlytwominutes.Ifherquirkisparalasissecreationwithaslimtonoproloungeeffectandthedrugboostedittoholdeffectforfiveminutes. That’salmostanahundredandthirtypercentincrease.”
Aizawa practices shrugging his shoulders. It feels like his leg is asleep, except his entire body is his leg. He’s trying to listen as Apparition rambles, taking in as much information as he can make out from the storm of words thrusted upon him.
He could lazily move his noodle-like arm enough to retrieve his phone from his belt and notify the other heroes he was with. Which looked more like a drunk homeless man with no control of his limbs stuffing his hand and whipping out his phone before typing ‘done’ and pin-dropping.
He gets a notification of confirmation and a text replying ‘Sending Burnin’ and a squad to your location now.’
He looks up to the kid, watching as he paces back and forth damn near fanboying over another quirk. It’s moments like this that reminds him how young Apparition really is. He’s a child who should be in his homeroom, not in the streets fighting battles that he shouldn’t be within a hundred feet off.
He resigns his thoughts, struggling to his feet and swaying in the wind. His mind is hazy from the minor concussion he obtained from collapsing to the ground earlier. So he’s slow to fully take in the barrel of the handgun pointed at them from the woman who had regained consciousness.
*BANG*
The blast rang out and Aizawa waited for the hit that never came. But he felt blood hit his cheek, just not his.
Apparition, with a bullet through his shoulder, collapsed in front of him.
The woman moves to reload and take another shot but Aizawa moves quicker. He throws his lead body towards the weapon. Knocking it from her grasp. Before he can go for the punch Burnin’ drops in and restrains the woman.
“ALRIGHT LADY TIME FOR LOCK UP!” Burning announces, her volume never dropping below a yell. “SANSA GRAB THIS GUY A MEDIC!” She jolts her thumb at Apparition and stomps off towards a cop car.
Aizawa turns on his heel to tend to Apparition, “Where’d she hit?”
Apparition hisses in pain as Aizawa lifts him up to a seated position, “She went through a tendon for sure- Ah shit - I’m fine though Imma get going.” He stands to leave.
“No you’re not, we’re getting you treatment.”
“Can’t go to hospital, have no money.” Apparition shakes his head.
“I’ll cover.”
“I’m not going to the hospital, too many people.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
“I’m not going, good bye.”
He moves to take off into the night.
“I’ll take you to Recovery Girl.” Aizawa says, playing to his fanboy side. “And she’ll keep it off the record, I promise.”
Apparition stops, mind weighing the options. “Does she still have her silver-age syringe cane she used to heal All Might?” He questions.
Aizawa rolls his eyes in his head, hard. “Yeah kid I think so.”
----
Recovery girl gives Apparition a kiss on his cheek, healing him of everything save for some bruises.
It took letting him hold the cane and inspect it and its components white asking a million questions about her quirk to finally let them heal him.
Aizawa stood by his side the whole time, watching over him, making sure he’s okay.
Seeing Apparition here, in the school, looking like one of his kids that went too hard in training finally pushed him to the edge.
With all the resolve in the world Aizawa steps out into the hall and fishes out his phone from his pocket to dial someone he wishes to never hear from when he’s not on the clock.
The phone rings, and rings, and rings until a small click sounds.
“Hello!”
Aizawa groans internally at the fake cherry inflection the principle always puts on.
“Hi Principle Nezu,” he began. “You know how I have an open spot in my class after I expelled that boy?”
“Yes I do remember, quite an upgrade compared to last year! I’m still astounded that not one student survived the first month!”
Yeah Aizawa recalls that year, every single one of those kids were not ready to face the dangers of heroism. They were so conceited and superficial, barely any rescue points between that entire class. Each and every one of them would’ve gotten killed on the field.
“Yeah, well I have a potential replacement.”
He can feel his boss’s interest peak.
“Oh do you? Care to inform me of who’s caught the eye of the broody Eraserhead?”
No turning back now, “I want Apparition to join 1A.”
— — — —
Midoryia straightens out his tie the best he can, attempting to make the bulky, bright red mess of fabric he tied himself look more presentable. Then he pats off his shirt, brushing off imaginary dirt.
“Relax kid, they’re not going to kill you if you’ve got some crumbs on you. In fact, I can guarantee you Kaminari still has his breakfast on his face.” Aizawa places a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Go show that you’re just like them.”
He takes a deep breath and throws open the door, the entire classroom goes silent and stares at him. He waves from where he stood.
Midoriya puts on his best smile, “Hello I’m Mid--”
“DEKU!?”