Chapter Text
Midoriya craned his neck to look up at the towering twin buildings looming above him. UA was just as fascinating from an architectural standpoint as from an academic or heroic standpoint. This school produced some of the world’s finest heroes, like All Might and Best Jeanist.
And here Midoriya was as the school’s first quirkless student.
The likelihood of his acceptance was unlikely at best. Extraordinarily improbable described the sheer incredulity that a quirkless Deku could be on the same campus as his lifelong idols.
He gripped the letter tightly in his left hand while his right hand clutched his neon-yellow backpack strap to hopefully hide the shaking. The letter that had changed everything. Last time he had been here on this campus was when he failed the hero practical for the entrance exam, probably after failing the written exam too. All of his studying had been for naught between the giant robots and his horrible test anxiety.
At least that’s what he had thought until his mother retrieved the mail one day and out popped a letter with the official UA seal. Midoriya had grimaced at the sight, already well aware that he’d walked out of the exam with exactly zero points. The worst part had been that he knew how to find the robots weak points. But every time he tried to make his move, the points were stolen by some other aspiring student with a flashy quirk and far more potential as a hero than Midoriya could ever have. The final buzzer had sounded and the exam period was over, along with any hopes of attending UA the next school year.
His hopes had been suitably mollified when he opened the letter privately in his room. Between the two of them, if one of them started crying then the other would follow shortly thereafter. The Universal Constant of the Midoriya genetics.
Instead of just a letter, a small black disc fell out of the envelope as well, flickering to life a moment later. It projected an image of a small, white animal with beady black eyes and wearing sharp business attire. Midoriya recognized him as Nezu, Principal of UA High.
He blinked at the principal’s voice filtered through the speakers. “Am I dog? Am I a rat? Am I a bear? Who knows, but most importantly, I am the principal! Hello, Midoriya Izuku! I would like to congratulate you on scoring one of the highest scores on our written entrance exam to date. The panel grading your essays was suitably impressed by your critical thinking and logical analysis of the heroics industry from a moral and ethical standpoint. I enjoyed your responses immensely. Very well done! Unfortunately, you did not pass the physical portion of the heroics exam. Normally this would result in you being placed in the General Education program, with the opportunity to rise up to the hero class after significant improvements and under certain conditions. However, the first year heroics class at UA this year will be quite different. More details will be provided on the first day of class, but for the moment, I would like to provisionally welcome you, Midoriya Izuku, to Class 1-A. Welcome to your hero academia.”
“Inside the attached letter will be instructions forms ordering uniforms, emergency forms, and other necessary documents required for your enrollment. There is also a list of a few caveats due to your acceptance as a provisional student. You will be placed in remedial classes instructed by myself, though I promise they will be remedial only in name. I see quite a bit of potential in you, Midoriya. I look forward to seeing you this semester. Plus Ultra!”
Now, staring up at the grandiose high school, he more than ever before felt like he had reached a turning point in his life. The point of no return.
Principal Nezu liked mysteries. Mysteries, conundrums, enigmas. In fact, his signature introduction perfectly encapsulated his love of intrigue. Was he a mouse? A dog? A bear? He was actually a stoat with unusual coloring and size, Mustela erminea, but he best keep that secret. Nobody had figured it out yet!
As he waited patiently in the vents, perched above the single grate that accessed the staff meeting room, Nezu reviewed his proposal. None of the staff gathered below, including their newest addition of the number one hero, would have the necessary ammunition to halt his plans. The only ones with that capability would surely be on his side, or very easily swayed.
Speaking of the devil himself, the last and most important member of the meeting finally entered the room. Nezu popped out of the vent just as the underground hero plopped into the remaining seat by the head of the table. He only sighed in resignation as the other heroes screeched and hollered.
“Greetings! I’m sure you all think you know what this meeting is about,” Nezu started before grinning his wicked grin. He saw the gathered staff members shiver. Excellent.
Nezu let the anticipation settle for a moment before easing their fears. “And you would be correct!” he said, handing a stack of folders to Aizawa to distribute. He tossed them to Vlad King to his right with an irritated grunt. The Blood Hero passed out the thick folders without complaint.
“For those of you returning to the staff, you know your duties. The applicants have been scored based on their performance in the practical and I have assigned them to their tentative classes; however, if there are any problems or accommodations required, please make a note.” The staff members nodded, some already thumbing through their student profiles. They would ensure that there were no conflicts between future classmates and begin learning about their future pupils.
“Right! Before you get started though,” Nezu said, “please flip to page 7 of your packets.” Most of the teachers were eager to finish their several hour shift of sitting in the staff room in dead silence while they tediously learned about their students for the principal’s required quiz. Nezu usually enjoyed the stench of white-knuckled boredom and despair when the teachers were unable to exit the room without suitably knowing thier students’ profiles, but today they had more exciting business to attend to. One of the grandest mysteries he would have the pleasure of executing.
The staff members thumbed to the correct page and some began noticing the bolded headline sitting at the top of the proposal. There were quiet murmurs as they began to process the meaning and Nezu could feel one particular pair of eyes studying him.
“As you can see, this years’ hero course will be significantly different from previous years. The Hero Public Safety Commission has provided UA with the funds necessary to begin the Young Villain and Criminal Reformation Program. Suitable candidates have already been selected and are awaiting approval of their future teacher in order for their entry to be fully processed.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Yamada said, holding up his hands. He must have noticed that his file was conspicuously thin. The future hero student profiles were barren, with only names, quirks, and basic identifying information located on the sheets. None of the family information or background knowledge scoured for by Nezu would be provided this year. “You’re telling me that we’re enrolling villains in the hero course?”
“Yes!” Nezu rubbed his paws excitedly. “Former villains and criminals who are young and willing enough to be rehabilitated, provided that they meet our graduating conditions of course.”
Aizawa, as if sensing his oncoming migraine, pinched the bridge of his nose. “However, due to the experimental nature of such a program, only one of the hero courses will be deviating from the usual standard. Class 1-A under Eraserhead will feature the first batch of YVCR students.”
“Why my class?” the underground hero ground out, looking as if he wanted to punt the principal across the room. No different than his usual appearance after their individual meetings. His cooperation was already in the bag.
“You’re in the unique position of having both a suitable quirk and required disposition necessary to deal with the potentially dangerous members of the YVCR.” Plus, Nezu knew his former pupil also enjoyed a good mystery. Although he preferred the term logical ruse.
The principal waited for any more questions, but there were none. Some of the staff were flipping through the next few pages explaining briefly the parameters of the program and the amended guide for graduation, both for the hero students and the villain students.
Snipe was the one who spoke up first. “What’s this saying here about a trial system?”
Nezu grinned, his tail swishing excitedly in anticipation of all the fun he would having this year. “The trial system will be part of a broader system implemented for the Class 1-A students. If you will turn to page 9, there is a brief outline of the way in which this program will function to the potential benefit of both the hero and villain students.”
One of the features designed to allow the program a smooth function is the Anonymity Clause, which states that only the student’s homeroom teacher and I, the principal, may know a student’s status and whether or not they are enrolled in the program.”
“Wait. So we won’t even know which one of the kids are going to be criminals? How are we expected to keep an eye on them?” Kayama protested with her usual dramatique.
“You’re not! This program will not only benefit the YVCR students but the hero students as well, in that they will gain first-hand experience in uncovering their friends from their foes. As you can see in the modified graduation structure section on page 10, there are two separate sets of requirements for the students to graduate. The hero students, who have taken our practical and written exams, will be graded on their ability to cooperate and work out who are the villain students within their class. They will have six trials throughout the year, one during midterms and finals of each semester, and will be required to flush out the villain students by the end of the year.”
“Or else?”
“Or else they do not graduate. For the villain students, however, their goal will be to survive the semester without acting suspicious. The goal of this type of program integration is to prove that they understand the error of their previous ways and that they can reintegrate back into society successfully and with minimal problems. By remaining hidden among the hero students without arousing suspicion, they will have proven their reformation is complete and will be granted entry into the heroics program next year. Are there any other questions?” the principal asked. He was well-aware that the flood of information had gone right over everybody’s heads.
Everybody except for one. Eraserhead scowled at the program description, locking eyes with the principal as the two studied one another, former teacher and pupil. “Will the villain students know each other’s designations?”
“Excellent question, Aizawa! No they will not. They will be given access to a special chat and it will be up to them to supply their own identifying information or to remain anonymous to one another. A united front or a divided sleeper cell. Oh, this will be quite fun indeed.” His tail brushed against his suit in its excitement.
“And the tracking bracelets,” Aizawa stated bluntly.
“Yes. All students in Class 1-A will be required to wear the tracking bracelet at all times, due to the YCVR students who will require constant attention. I am sure the importance of their cooperation will be impressed upon them suitably. All of the candidates selected are those I believe to be truly capable of this reform.”
“Now then,” the principal continued, “it is time to read the student profiles. Please do so while I speak to Aizawa in private about his students’ profiles.” He saw the glint of excitement as they realized they might escape his hellish pop quizzes. “And do be sure to wait for my return. This year’s quizzes are going to be extra special!”
Nezu hopped down from his seat and escorted Aizawa to his office through a secret door just outside the meeting room. The underground hero was the only one beside himself that knew of the tunnels’ presence in the building. He graciously ignored the hero’s mutter of “sadistic” and instead began brewing his special blend of tea while the man settled into his chair.
The two cups of tea sat steaming on the desk between them as Nezu pulled out a specially marked file that would never leave his office and be hidden under his highest protections.
“Well then, Aizawa-kun, shall we get started?”
Walking into Class 1-A with its massively oversized door, Midoriya noticed the two people he least wanted to see.
The robotic boy from the practical exam, who must have been related to Ingenium with his engine legs and squarish face, was waving his hands and shouting at the second offender in the classroom who had his feet kicked back on his desk.
“Take your feet off that desk, now!” the robotic boy shouted, waving his arms up and down.
Kacchan smirked like the devil himself. “Huh?”
Midoriya could tell when the robotic boy realized that Kacchan respected authority the same way he respected Midoriya— he didn’t.
Most of the students who were already in the class were preoccupied by the increasing volume of the two’s argument as the robotic boy began to preach about respecting the school. Midoriya, ever the opportunist, used this distraction to peek at the seating chart at the front of the classroom and stilled at the sight.
Of course his seat was right behind Kacchan’s.
Better behind that in front, Midoriya thought as he made his way towards the back of the room. If he could loop behind Kacchan and linger out of his periphery until the teacher arrived, then he could hopefully escape his former best friend’s notice. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the universe had other plans because he had barely started his journey when a familiar voice shouted at him and began introducing himself.
The robotic boy appeared in front of him so quickly that Midoriya would have assumed he’d used his quirk if not for the boy’s uptight stickler for the rules attitude. He held one hand over his heart while the other was extended toward a startled Midoriya.
“I’m from Somei Private Academy—“
Midoriya eeped. “I-I heard you before! Ah, I’m Izuku Midoriya… Pleased to meet you, Iida.”
Iida locked onto him with robotic (what else could they be, the boy acted more machine than man) eyes. “Midoriya. You perceived the true nature of that practical exam. While I did not. I misjudged you! I hate to admit it, but you were the superior candidate.”
Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck, aware of the amount of attention on him from the other students in the room. Iida spoke extremely loud. It was so similar but different from Kacchan, who spoke an angry loud while Iida spoke a very stern loud. That made sense, right?
“I didn’t perceive anything!” he protested.
Kacchan finally noticed him, growling out a “Deku.”
Before Kacchan could annihilate him in a salvo of explosions, a bubbly voice called out behind him. “Ah! Your curly hair is adorable.”
Midoriya turned around to see a short, brown-haired girl with rosy cheeks and a cheery disposition. There were little pads (toe-beans, a traitorous part of his mind whispered) on each of her fingers. She must have a touch-activation quirk. Was that him or was her backpack not sagging as heavily as it should?
A yellow caterpillar crawled across the ground behind the bubbly girl. He locked eyes with the dull black eyes of black haired caterpillar man. Nobody else noticed the man until he spoke. “If you’re here to socialize, then get out.”
Bubbly girl turned around first, followed by Iida and then the other people close to the door, and then the rest of the class. Everybody was silent as the caterpillar man drank from a small juice packet and said, “This is the hero course.”
He stood up, shedding his cocoon through the help of a zipper rather than bursting through a chrysalis with the help of a release chemical. The man stepped out with a baggy black jumpsuit and a white scarf wrapped around his neck. Midoriya recognized him instantly, though he doubted anybody else would.
Eraserhead was their teacher.
“It took eight seconds for your to quiet down,” the man continued, uncaring about Midoriya’s internal crisis. “Time is a precious resource. You lot aren’t very logical, are you?”
Eraserhead walked over to the front table and stood behind the lectern, dragging his yellow sleeping bag cocoon behind him.
“I’m your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta. Pleased to meet you,” the man said in clipped words. Midoriya and the others immediately raced to their assigned seats as the hero shuffled through some papers.
Aizawa-sensei looked up from his papers with the barest glint of something in his eyes. Midoriya struggled to put a name on it. But regardless, the twenty students— who had only been in the class for less than a single period— were hit with the overwhelming sense of danger which had been lurking on the fringes of their perception. Midoriya studied the underground hero and found an assured confidence. Every word he was saying he believed to be true. Every action was one he knew he could fulfill. He really was a hero.
Eraserhead glared the already-silent class into submission before addressing them. “Good morning. Normally, we would already be taking our first test by now but the rat wants me to explain first.”
“UA has done its best to keep its student’s private lives private. As such, you will not have heard of the new changes to the Class 1-A heroics program for this year. Principal Nezu has worked with the Hero Public Safety Commission—“ Midoriya snorted softly. No way that the principal would do that. Their rivalry with the Commission preceded him. “— to establish a trial program known as the Young Villain and Criminal Reformation Program. This is designed both to benefit the incoming hero students as well as the program’s members. It will provide a pathway for young high school age villains and criminals who have been established as having high potential for reformation and reintegration into society.”
The man began walking around the classroom, handing out manilla envelopes with their last names printed on the front in neat kanji. “Inside your envelope you will find your student ID and your H-watch. Both will be required at all times on campus, while only your H-watch will be mandatory on your person when you are not on campus.”
Midoriya followed alongside the nineteen other students as they dug through their envelope to find the items mentioned. The underside of his watch, which looked like a typical smartwatch, had the number 18 engraved. There were several programs already installed on the device but Eraserhead began talking before Midoriya could fiddle around.
Eraserhead held up his own version of the ID card, which displayed his hero name and clearance level for school access. He showed them how to click the button on the side to turn it on. Midoriya clicked his and it displayed his name, quirk status, class number, and a dozen other pieces of personal information. In the top right corner was a small emblem made up of two English characters… no wait. It had four English characters, but two overlapped with the others if Midoriya read it right.
And then he did a double take when he read the line holding his status.
Villain (Reason for Enrollment: ————)
How… why was he a villain? He was just a quirkless kid with a dream, a futile one at that. This had to be a mistake or something. Maybe there was another Midoriya Izuku who had applied that was also quirkless… no, he wasn’t delusional. It was him.
“Some of you may already be aware of your circumstances for entering this program while others may not. Regardless, what I am about to say is very important, so listen closely, hellions.”
“Do not share this status or your enrollment in the program with anybody, either inside this classroom or in the general public. Nobody outside of myself and Nezu are aware of your identities. As heroes, confidentiality is one of the most important lessons you must remember. If you can’t figure out why you shouldn’t tell the public, then you’re not smart enough to be in my classroom.”
“Your peers are another matter. Principal Nezu and I have decided that in order to maximize the effectiveness of the program for both the enrolled students and the hero students, the second semester confidentiality and second year investigation lessons have been rearranged to your first year.”
Iida waved his hand in the air, robotic as ever. “Sensei, I do not understand the purpose of rearranging—“
“If you’d wait for me to finish,” the hero grouched, “I will explain. From now on, hold questions until I call on you.”
He didn’t wait for a response before continuing. Midoriya couldn’t help the small snort at the chastised look on the blue haired boy’s face. “There are two objectives. In order to graduate from the first year hero program, the hero students within the class who are not enrolled in the program must figure out who the villains and criminals students are through mock trials that will occur during midterms and finals of each term. Hence why we are learning about investigation and confidentiality.”
“The villain students will have a different objective. Their objective is to make it through the semester without being caught by the hero students. Or sold out by the other criminals. Your individual consequences should be obvious to each criminal student. But in order to graduate at the end of the year, you must prove that you are ready for reintegration and can successfully become a hero like the rest of your classmates.”
Aizawa-sensei waited for several moments, then opened up questions. Immediately, several hands shot into the air, including Iida and Kaminari. The underground hero selected Kaminari.
“What about regular classwork? Does this mean we have no tests?” Kaminari asked excitedly. The pink-skinned girl also looked excited, though significantly less than the electric boy. Midoriya wondered if the bolt streak in his hair was natural or dyed in.
Aizawa-sensei grunted. “No. This will be supplemental, not subtractional. Your exams will be worth the same weighting as seen in the syllabus. Don’t read them now, it will waste time.”
Another girl with a long, brown ponytail raised her hand. “How will the mock trials be conducted and will any preparation be necessary?”
“The trials will be explained at a later date. For now, expect a similar trial to our actual legal system. To prepare for this, you will need to be aware of your classmates, their activities, and make your own judgments ahead of time about whether they are a hero or villain student. Do not,” he flashed his quirk in emphasis. “Do not leave this for the last moment. This is supposed to be a year long exercise. You will not have good results if you do so. And you will be penalized if you don’t contribute to your team’s score, then you will not pass this semester either. Be prepared to write an analysis of why you believe each classmate is or is not a villain. Is that understood?”
There were mutters of agreement throughout the class. Midoriya was too afraid of their teacher to bother scribbling the information in his notebook. He had already committed it to memory out of pure fear. The reality of his situation hadn’t hit him yet, but now he understood why his acceptance was provisional. And why he needed to meet with the principal himself.
“Good. Now, change into your gym clothes and head out to the ground.” He glared with his quirk and the students shivered. “Don’t be late.”
The class sprinted for the locker rooms.
Midoriya, although he barely passed the test by the skin of his teeth, took the opportunity to observe his classmates. This had to be one of the strangest first days of school. Almost every single person in the class excluding himself had heroic quirks that would have been praised at Aldera. Even if some of them were villains. Including himself.
He wished he had his notebook on him to write down his questions and observations as each person stepped up to the Quirk Apprehension tests; he would have to make do with writing them down later. For now, he had to pass a test. Or he wouldn’t get to see the end of his first day at UA. He already had a natural disadvantage. The only person scoring the same average score was the invisible girl, whose quirk just didn’t make sense without having a failsafe deactivation. Quirk evolution favored beneficial quirks and he doubted that the quirk would have made it several generations before having such a disadvantageous mutation.
Of course, Bakugo glared daggers at him across the gymnasium as they rotated between stations. Midoriya did his best not to let it affect him. He had a decade of practice. The blonde boy held back for the moment. Midoriya thanked every deity above.
When the scores were revealed, Midoriya sighed in relief as he noticed that there was only one person below him on the list— and it wasn’t the invisible girl. Mineta Minoru must have been the boy with the grape hair because he let out a gasp and immediately started protesting about how everybody must have cheated.
He singled out Midoriya. “And he didn’t even use his quirk! Why don’t you expel him for not using his quirk on a literal quirk test?”
Midoriya froze. Every single eye in the class was on him. Familiar, burning red eyes accompanied the crackling of explosions as Bakugo scoffed. “The useless deku can’t use what he doesn’t have.”
The gymnasium was dead silent before erupting in a cacophony of whispers. He caught snippets of conversations and mutters about how he couldn’t be a villain because he didn’t even have a quirk. Or that they didn’t know why he had been admitted to the hero course, much less as a hero than a villain. Weren’t quirkless people fragile anyways?
Aizawa-sensei looked Midoriya in the eyes as his classmates gossiped. Midoriya remembered from his introduction speech earlier, that the teacher knew he was a villain. But did he know why Midoriya was in the program, when the boy in question had no idea what could have gotten him enrolled?
The underground hero flashed his quirk and the class quieted down. “You’re learning. There’s hope for you still. Nobody is being expelled today because it was a logical ruse. But I have my eye on the problem students of the class, including those who half-assed this test. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Next time it happens, I won’t hesitate to expel you.”
The class chorused in agreement. Though there were still furtive glances in his direction. Midoriya winced as Aizawa-sensei addressed the unwanted attention. “UA also has a very strict discrimination policy. Only villains discriminate against their peers for something out of their control.” The teacher’s eyes connected with the boy’s own. “Remember that. Class dismissed. Rest up, because tomorrow’s trials aren’t going to be any easier.”
Midoriya followed the crowd back toward the locker room. He was in a state of shock. Eraserhead, one of his favorite heroes, had defended him in front of his peers. Even knowing about his quirklessness. And the fact that apparently, he was a villain.
Changing out of his gym uniform and into his regular uniform was an exercise in speed. The locker rooms at Aldera were perfect for an ambush before or after gym, so the boy was used to quick changes. It made it easier to avoid the lingering stares, the whispers, and the boy with spiky hair who tried to approach him. He ran from the locker room before anybody could catch up.
Once he made it back to the main building, Midoriya pulled up his identification card. He had noticed a few tabs on the program. One of them was a map interface displaying his location on campus with little arrows pointing to a specific location. Midoriya selected the one for the principal’s office and began following the display’s guidance.
Along the way, he passed several groups of students and a few teachers. Nobody batted an eye at him. He knew it was irrational to think that news of his quirklessness had spread this far this quick, but years of paranoia made him, well, paranoid.
The guidance stopped when Midoriya stood outside a plain door, just like every other door in the hallway. There was nothing special about this room except for the fact that the door was slightly ajar. A high voice called his name from inside. “Ah, Midoriya-kun. Please come in.”
His breath escaped as Midoriya slowly stepped into the principal’s office. When doing his research on UA, he had invariably stumbled across information and speculation about Principal Nezu. Nobody knew what type of animal he was, or where exactly he came from, or just how smart he truly was. Midoriya only knew from some deep digging that the Hero Commission seemed to have a vendetta against the animal. And Principal Nezu held one in return.
Midoriya sat down on a cushioned chair directly in front of the principal’s desk. It was a fairly standard looking office, with minimal accomodations for Nezu’s size visible, though Midoriya knew better than to believe they weren’t there. They must have been hidden.
“Indeed, they are, Midoriya-kun. I’m glad to see you already putting your mind to work, especially after Eraserhead’s usual Apprehension Test.” The principal pushed a steaming cup and saucer towards the flustered boy. “Would you care for some tea?”
Midoriya was too embarrassed to respond beyond ducking his head and nodding. Not only did he have to attend special remedial classes— probably because of his grades at Aldera, and his quirklessness— but now he had muttered about the principal in front of said principal!
The white creature rubbed his hands together. “Very good. I was very impressed with your ability to think outside of the box earlier. I know Eraserhead must have been too. Already, you are promising to be one of this year’s most promising candidates.”
Midoriya blinked. He swallowed his sip of jasmine tea before responding. “Principal Nezu, sir, I’m not entirely sure what you mean. I didn’t think outside of the box on anything. I nearly got expelled from the class!”
“Perhaps,” Principal Nezu said. His beady eyes studied Midoriya. “You are indeed correct in saying that your physical placement in the test did not reassure your teacher of your potential. However, I believe you are neglecting to mention something that both myself and your homeroom teacher would argue to be far more important that an arbitrary standardized physical. Would you care to guess what that is, Midoriya-kun?”
The principal smiled, and though he resembled a child’s plushie, the smile on his face was that of a predator. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s why I requested for you to be my personal student.”
“P-personal student?” Midoriya stuttered. His eyes bugged out of his skull.
“Yes. These one on one lessons will provide ample time to hone your natural skills and make you into one of our institution’s finest graduates. As well as a very successful hero.”
It took several moments for Midoriya to calm himself and slow his racing heart. If it beat any faster, Recovery Girl would probably need to come resuscitate him. Still, once he had reoriented himself and pushed the sheer absurdity of the day from his mind, he began thinking over the earlier test. What had he done differently from the other students besides not using a quirk? Was it…
“Was it my analysis, Nezu-sensei?” Midoriya asked meekly. He did not notice the creature’s tail speed up at the use of the honorific.
“Correct! You not only analyzed your classmates and made impressive notes on their quirks, but you also managed to successfully divert any suspicion away from you within a single day. I am extremely invested in your enrollment in this program, Midoriya-kun.”
“About that,” Midoriya trailed off. Principal Nezu took a sip of his own tea, but kindly waited for the boy to gather his courage. “I don’t understand why I was enrolled in this program. I’m not a villain.”
The principal set down his tea, setting it aside as he rested his arms on the table. It looked all too similar to when the principal at Aldera would sit him down and scold him for starting fights with the quirked students. Even when Midoriya had the worst injuries, it was always blamed on the useless troublemaker.
“I believe that that question is better answered at a later time. Perhaps once you have settled in a bit more, then you will see.” The principal clapped his hands together. It startled Midoriya and a bit of tea sloshed on the desk. He wiped it off sheepishly.
“Now then. Let’s start our first lesson of the semester off simple. Tell me what you think about your classmates.”
Midoriya spent the next hour describing each of his classmates’ quirks, attitudes, personalities, and potential for villainy to a very, very excited principal who then requested to read his notebook. If the quirkless boy walked out of school with a smile for the first time in ten years, then there was nobody around to judge him.
After all, he was finally going to be a hero.
CLASS 1-A HERO AND VILLAIN ANALYSIS FOR THE FUTURE
ENTRY NO. 1 HAGAKURE TORU
Quirk: Invisibility* (see notes)
Hero Name: Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl
Student Number: 16
Height: 152 cm
Description: Invisible, supposedly short bob length blonde hair, fairly skinny, is willing to take off clothes so do not rely on clothes for spotting
Fighting Ability: Weak, needs improvement. Advantage in having invisible limbs to hit opponent
Weaknesses: Thermal imaging, lack of fighting experience, sound-based quirks, paintgun
Speculative Assignment: Villain
Reasoning: Most likely an informant or thief based on quirk/demeanor. No way she passed the entrance exam without a load of rescue points. Still feasible, but coupled with other evidence, I’m pretty confident in this conclusion.
Notes: How did she even get through the entrance exam? Also, she’s lying about her quirk. Would Aizawa be able to erase her quirk and if so, would she reappear? Her quirk is more closely related to manipulating light (potentially energy) waves. If Aizawa’s quirk is based on EM radiation/a signal produced through his eyes like I suspect, then would her quirk duplicate the waves through her with the same signature/effect, or would it simply be eliminated by her quirk?
I’m getting off topic. Yeah, there’s no way she passed the entrance exam considering her weak physical performance on the apprehension exam. Those robots I saw in the servers were massive and the qualifying score is extremely high. She said she was at the exam but nobody saw her (duh, she’s invisible). She’s very good at dodging questions and her ability would make her a very good informant. She walks very quietly and has startled several of our classmates. She’s crafty enough to use her quirk to cheat on the long jump and other tests during the apprehension exam. High villainous potential with a cutesy schoolgirl attitude to avoid suspicion. Will need further evaluation of whether can be reintegrated or was a villain unwillingly.