A/N: This is an idea from TinySpiderLily. Thanks again for the laugh feathers! 

Izuku's point of view until said otherwise!

There are moments in life that make you question everything. Why are we here? What's the meaning of existence? Why do I even bother with school if my notebooks are now at the bottom of a slimy fish pond? Today is one of those days.

The day started like any other: Bakugo yelled, I cowered, and someone probably regretted inventing Mondays. But then, during the first lesson, Bakugo decided it would be a great idea to teach me a life lesson. That lesson being, apparently, "Don't exist near me." To really drive the point home, he flung my backpack and notebooks straight out the window like a human trebuchet.

And now, here I am. On my knees by the Aldera Junior High pond, fishing my dreams—well, my soggy math homework—out of the water while koi fish stare at me with what I can only describe as judgmental smugness.

"Alright, fishies," I say, trying to untangle a notebook stuck on some kind of pond weed. "You've probably seen a lot of dumb humans in your time. But I bet you've never seen someone get their science notes thrown into your home. Lucky you! Front-row seats to my humiliation."

One of the koi swims up close, its wide, gaping mouth opening and closing as if it's mocking me.

"Oh, what's that?" I continue, sarcasm dripping from my words like the pond water dripping off my ruined notes. "You think this is funny? You're not the one who has to rewrite all this. Or explain to a teacher why your homework smells like algae."

The fish blinks at me. Do fish even blink? Whatever it is, it feels personal.

"Look, buddy, I get it. Life down there must be boring. Probably the most exciting thing you've seen all month is some kid's bento box landing in the water. But do me a favor, okay? Don't eat my pencils. I need those to pretend I'm not completely failing at life."

I reach further into the water, my arm soaked up to the elbow, and manage to grab a soggy notebook. Success. Kind of. It looks like something out of a horror movie, and the ink has bled into some abstract art that probably symbolizes my shattered dignity.

"Perfect," I mutter. "I'm sure the teacher will love my modern impressionist take on quadratic equations. Very avant-garde."

A gust of wind blows, and my hair, already damp from the water, sticks to my face. For a second, I consider just lying down on the grass and letting the earth consume me. But then I remember that I still have three more notebooks to fish out, and Bakugo's probably watching from a classroom window, laughing his head off. Can't give him that satisfaction.

Another koi swims by, this one bumping against my hand. It feels slimy, and I recoil instinctively, nearly falling face-first into the pond.

"Okay, that's just rude," I tell the fish. "I don't come into your house and slap you with a wet notebook, do I?"

The fish doesn't respond. Obviously. But I swear, it looks like it's smirking.

"I don't know why I'm even talking to you," I say, pulling out what remains of my sketchbook. The pages are so soaked that they're practically fused together. Great. There go my hero costume designs. Not that it matters. No one's going to take Quirkless Izuku Midoriya seriously as a hero anyway.

Still, the fish seem to appreciate my presence. Or maybe they're just hoping I'll drop some snacks into the water.

"You know," I say, sitting back on my heels, "you guys have it pretty good. No school, no bullies, no one chucking your stuff out windows. Just swimming around all day, doing fish things. Must be nice."

One of the koi does a little flip, sending a tiny splash of water my way.

"Show-off," I mutter, wiping my face with my sleeve.

By the time I've retrieved the last of my things, my clothes are soaked, my notebooks are beyond saving, and I smell like pond scum. But hey, at least I didn't get eaten by a koi. Small victories.

As I stand up, dripping and defeated, I glance back at the fish. They're all gathered near the edge of the pond, watching me like some kind of aquatic jury.

"Thanks for the company, I guess," I tell them. "You've been a real help. No, really. This has been... enlightening."

One fish wiggles its tail, and I could swear it's mocking me.

"Great. Even the fish think I'm a loser," I mutter, trudging back to the school building.

It's fine. Totally fine. Just another normal day in the life of a quirkless kid, current fish whisperer, and full-time punching bag.

But hey, at least it can't get any worse, right?

...Right?