A/N: 12,187 words. 24 pages (on Microsoft Word, my writing platform). Author's note not included. This is the longest chapter I've written for Viridian yet~! :D I really hope you guys enjoy it!

No, this is not the Sports Festival. But this has character development and some important plot-points (plus we finally meet our fav. Purple boi, Shinsou!) A good portion of this chapter was written to the song, "Zelda Breath of the Wild: Hyrule Castle – Cover (No Marching)". You can find it on Soundcloud or Youtube. ^^

How's everyone doing? Hopefully you and your family are safe. I wanted to thank everyone for their awesome fanart~! :D If you've got some to send, please send it to [email protected] and remember to put a username or penname so I know who to credit~!

I ended up rewriting this chapter a couple of times. Eventually, when this story is finished, I plan to publish all my 'outtakes' in an 'extra' chapter at the end, so you can all see alternates of what could have been (and in some cases, almost was). Perhaps it'll also help inspire some young writers out there~!

So confession time. I was going to publish this yesterday after work, but I ended up falling asleep instead and didn't wake up until 17 hours later, when I had to leave for work. Whoops~ Hopefully you'll forgive me for that. ^^;

Also, there will be NO PAIRING FOR IZUKU in this story. I've had a couple people bring that up to me. I'm not pairing him for 2 reasons. 1, I try not to pair my MC with anyone so everyone can enjoy the story regardless of who they ship. 2, because he's mentally nearly 50 years old but physically 15. That's weird and a big no. I'm not pairing a fifty-year-old with a child regardless of physical age, nor am I pairing a physical child with an adult for obvious reasons. Just... no.

Also a question people have asked me. Is Izuku/Viridian gay? The answer is... he's mostly gay with a sprinkle of bi. ;) But as I stated earlier, no pairings, so it doesn't really matter. He can look but nothing more (nor is it something on his mind, all things considered).

Whelp. I wrote more here, but Microsoft Word 2008 (the version I use) crashed on me and I lost part of my A/N and since I'm such a scatterbrain, I can't remember what I wrote. So....

FANART~!

Big thanks to LILY on Quotev for this one! Make sure to follow that story to keep up-to-date for more art! https://i.quotev.com/img/q/u/20/4/22/e4wyee4plt.jpg

And another big thanks to Inked_Moons who drew us another White Nomu!!

https://i.imgur.com/sJd3SYg.jpg (this is the art featured on this chapter. If you can't use the link, check out the top of the page for the art. ^^)

~~~

Hizashi sighed as he sat down at the meeting table in the staff room. They'd been having more meetings this year than usual, and it was all due to one Quirkless student. He was really fond of the Little Listener, himself, and worried about his safety constantly, but the fact that they had to continually have meetings regarding said safety was mildly annoying.

Worth it, though.

"All right. Now, Aizawa, you said you had an update on the Midoriya Situation?" Nezu asked, eyes glinting in concerned interest.

It was a surprise to most of the staff how quickly Midoriya had grown on Principal Nezu. He wasn't the kind of guy to grow attached to students that way. Not to say he didn't care, because he obviously did, but it was more of a professional care. Like how someone would care about a coworker or a group of people on the other side of the world struggling with poverty or something. But this was more personal. He cared about Midoriya Izuku in such a way that he was pulling out all the stops to protect this kid. Whatever potential Nezu saw in him must've been incredible.

He wondered what they did in their private classes? Midoriya had been Nezu's private student for weeks, now, and the kid's studies showed it. His grades had gone from above average to off the charts. Most of his work was actually from Nezu these days, not his teachers (though Hizashi doubted that the kid realized that).

"My class decided to have an outing to the movies at the end of last week." Shouta sighed, taking a long gulp of coffee. "Obviously, I went along to make sure they weren't attacked."

"I came, too." Hizashi chimed in.

"We weren't attacked." Shouta quickly spoke up, before people could start worrying. "I'd expected some kind of Quirkless discrimination towards him. He, himself, had warned me that it was a strong possibility and asked me to let things be if something happened." Hizashi saw Shouta's hand clench into a fist under the table, and rested his own hand over his.

"It started when he tried to buy his ticket." Hizashi spoke up. "The clerk threw his ID back at him and said they didn't serve 'his kind' there. Then the manager came out." He grimaced as he remembered what had happened.

"She walked right up to him and hit him across the face so hard that he was knocked to the ground." Shouta growled out.

"What?!" Nemuri cried out.

"Oh, it gets worse." Hizashi informed grimly. "She called him 'it' and 'thing' and poured soda over his head. Tried to convince Shouta and I that he wasn't worth our time or protection."

"I knew it was bad, but..." Cementoss hissed.

"Afterwards, Midoriya informed me that he faces this sort of thing regularly. Shops raise their prices, there are places he 'just can't go', and he mentioned something about a hero. He promised to explain that one later."

"I was looking last night..." Hizashi hesitated before pulling out his phone. He shot off a quick text to the UA Staff Group Chat. "Someone caught most of the scene on their phone and posted it to social media. Of course, I've since filed a complaint and had it removed, but it just keeps popping up on other sites. I saved a copy to show you what to look out for."

The teachers watched in mild horror and no small amount of disgust as the recording played, picking up from just after she'd admitted verbally that he was Quirkless.

"How awful." Thirteen spoke quietly.

"You look angrier than I've ever seen you." Snipe spoke up, looking at Shouta.

"Like you'd be any calmer in that situation?" He glared.

"Hey, ain't nothing wrong with that. 'Course I'd be just as pissed. Just making a statement."

"Our biggest concern, it would seem, is that Midoriya finds this abhorrent treatment normal." Nezu spoke up. "We need to show him that it is not okay. We need to make sure we're doing everything we can to protect him. And while our influence normally doesn't extend beyond our campus, let us not forget—we are Heroes. Use those licenses well. And if you want to put in a request for increased patrol hours, I've left several stacks of said paperwork in the Teacher's Lounge." A predatory grin spread across the principal's face, and Hizashi suddenly realized why he always added in 'bear' to his list of possible species.

He certainly looked like an angry bear ready to protect his cub.

The meeting spun by far too quickly thereafter, and Hizashi dazedly realized that it was time to pack up. "Hold on, Zashi." Shouta put a hand on his shoulder and gestured for him to wait. Once the other teachers had filed out, his husband leveled a look at the principal, who was looking at Shouta expectantly. "Midoriya told me was going to explain things to you after the Sports Festival. But he also wanted myself and Hizashi there. I suspect he'll bring Hawks with him, too."

"I see... So my Puzzle's decided he's ready to help me, then?"

Puzzle? Hizashi blinked.

"I'll set up a meeting. No sense in wasting any valuable time. He said after the festival, correct?"

"That's right. He wanted time to figure out how to explain everything."

"Any idea what would need several weeks of time to explain?" Hizashi raised an eyebrow.

"Your guess is as good as mine." The Erasure Hero rested his forehead on the oak table with a quiet thunk.

"Well, then. We'd best get ready for classes, yes? The students will start arriving any minute."

"I hate teaching." Shouta mumbled into the table, causing Hizashi to chuckle fondly.

"Come on, Shou. I'll make you some coffee."

Hi!Linechanhere!Hopeeveryone'sdoingokay!Littleexplanationforthenewfanfictiondotnetreaders,thesitewon'tletmeputinanormalline,soI'mdoingthisinstead.NowyouknowwherethePOVchanges!WattpadreadershavedubbedmeLinechan!

Bakugo Katsuki was frustrated, as he paced in his bedroom. It wasn't really anything new; he was typically annoyed or pissed off in some way. And the cause wasn't anything new either, because Deku usually pissed him off.

But what had happened at the movies had made him realize something. He'd been an ass. What that woman had done was appalling, and something Katsuki would associate with a villain.

And yet... the things she'd said... the actions she'd taken... Hadn't he been the same? In middle school, wasn't Katsuki knocking Deku's food out of his hands during lunch no different than her pouring that soda over his head? And while Katsuki never outright said it, he'd considered Deku a mere pebble on his road to greatness. Something insignificant and not worth a second glance.

How was that different than calling him an 'it' or treating him as something inhuman?

If his middle-school self had seen what had happened at the movies, he probably would've laughed or moved on like everyone else. He would've thought 'well, that's what a useless Deku deserves.' Or something.

The thought made him sick.

Since he'd started U.A... since Aizawa-sensei had given him that first detention after their first Heroics Class, Katsuki had been trying to understand.

He'd been confused and a little frightened when he'd been reprimanded the first time. Then he'd figured (wrongly so, he now knew) that it'd been because he could've killed Deku. And he'd admit—using a lethal attack wasn't very heroic, but in his defense, he hadn't realized how powerful that blast would be.

But the second time he'd been reprimanded, after just calling Deku worthless after the USJ mess, really made him think. He'd been so confused and angry and he couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong.

After a few days, he'd reluctantly gone to Aizawa-sensei.

Katsuki scowled as he glared at his shoes. This was humiliating. He, the future Number One, was going to someone else for help. Because he couldn't figure something out. He had half a mind to turn around and go home, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Not when the question had been eating him live for the last three days.

So he knocked.

"Come in." Aizawa glanced up from his papers, and the bum looked a little surprised to see him. "Bakugo. What can I do for you?"

"I... erm..." He huffed, feeling his cheeks redden. "I don't understand."

"Okay, what don't you understand?"

"I don't understand why I got detention!" He growled, and his teacher's eyes lit up in understanding. "I've always talked to Deku like that! Everyone does! So what the hell did I do wrong?!"

"Take a seat, Bakugo." He gestured. Katsuki hesitated, but sat down anyways. "Why do you think it's okay to think less of Midoriya because he's Quirkless?"

"I mean, he is less than, right?" His eyes traced the patterns of the wood in Aizawa's desk. "When I got my Quirk, everybody kept telling me how amazing I was, and how I was going to become the best hero. And when Deku didn't get his... they ignored him. Told him he'd amount to nothing. My one teacher said that 'Quirks make the man' or something like that. The better your Quirk, the more you can do in life. Since Deku has none, he can't amount to anything."

"And that angers you?"

"I mean... he was always a dreamer. Not a doer. He kept talking about wanting to be a hero, but then he'd let people walk all over him! He'd roll over at the slightest provocation! He'd shrink in on himself and nod along to whatever someone else said, and it was so pathetic. He was just holding me back." He took a deep breath to keep his Quirk in check. "And yet he still thought he could be a hero. He didn't train or do anything other than his stupid analysis shit."

"Analysis?" Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fucking creepy. He'd stalk heroes and dissect their fucking Quirks. Figure out how they worked and shit. He'd analyze the way they fought, too. And he thought he could be a hero with that alone. It made me fucking angry. Here I was, putting in all this hard work and training to master my Quirk so I could become a hero, and he's just sitting there like he expects people to hand him an opportunity on a fucking silver platter!" He shot out of his chair and paced the room.

"And how does that make looking down on him okay?"

"Everyone did it! Even the teachers would laugh at him for his fantasies!"

"Are you aware that people regularly suicide bated him?" Aizawa's eyes were sharp with an emotion Bakugo couldn't name. It made him feel like his teacher was staring into his soul.

"It wasn't serious. They were joking. They always did that, and Deku would just laugh and throw away the notes. If he had a problem with it, he would've gone to the principal or something. If it was wrong, wouldn't the teachers have stopped it?"

His sensei sighed. "So that's how it is."

"The fuck's that supposed to mean?!" Was he giving up on him?! Was he calling him stupid?

"I see, now. The system failed you, too."

"Hah?" Now he was lost.

"Midoriya didn't go to a teacher because he couldn't. They were part of that. He had nobody to turn to, Bakugo. The principal didn't care because he was Quirkless. It wasn't that the behavior was okay, because it was so, so wrong. It's that the authority figures in your life didn't care to stop the behavior."

Bakugo's eyes widened. He wasn't stupid. He was very smart. He may be a bit thick-headed when it came to emotions, but he understood what his teacher was getting at. And he didn't like it.

"No!" He clenched his fists at his side, willing the tears away. "No! You can't be serious!" He glared at the ground, unwilling to look at that expression on Aizawa's face any more.

Because he didn't look at him with arrogance or pity. But sorrow and understanding. And he hated it.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes and watched them hit the floor. "It can't be true!" He denied. "Because if it is...!" He shook. "Then I'm no better than them... I hurt him. All these years... I..." He slowly looked up at his teacher. "I hurt Deku." The words felt choked in his throat, but they rung with a sense of truth that even he couldn't deny.

"I hurt Izuku." God, he felt sick. What the hell?! How could he have not seen it?! It was supposed to be... okay.

He felt arms wrap around him. His first instinct was to push him away, because he was a teacher and getting hugged by a teacher was weird, but... it felt nice. He gripped the man's clothes and let his forehead rest against his chest as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

"You're not like them, Bakugo. Do you know why?"

"I am like them."

"No, you're not. Because you've realized it was wrong. You regret your actions. They don't. That makes you a better man than they'll ever be."

"But... How do I...?" How the fuck was he supposed to make this right? Could he? Ten years... almost eleven.

"First, you need to be able to answer this question for yourself." Aizawa pulled away and looked him in the eye, crouching down so they were on the same level. "Bakugo Katsuki. What kind of hero do you want to be?"

The Best. Number One. That was his default answer. But that didn't seem like the right answer, here.

"Let me put this another way." Aizawa had a glint of amusement in his eye, and it pissed him off. "What do you want to inspire in others?"

"Inspire? In others?" The fuck was that supposed to mean?

"That's right. All Might inspires safety in civilians and fear in villains. Viridian inspires those without power. Thirteen inspires hope to those in trouble. What kind of emotion do you want to spark to life when people see you? What kind of hero do you want to be?" He smiled and stood up, ruffling Katsuki's hair. He was too surprised to be angry about it at the moment (though he'd be pissy about it later, for sure). "Think about it. Find me when you have your answer."

That'd been weeks ago. And he'd been struggling with that question the whole time. He stopped antagonizing Deku, and decided to observe for once. The nerd seemed... different.

He'd been different for a while, now. Since that day Katsuki told him to jump off the roof (a regret he'd carry with him to his grave). He'd completely changed. It was like he was a totally different person, and Katsuki didn't know why, but the teachers were watching him with a keen eye these days. Like they were looking for someone who might hurt Deku (which Katsuki thought was stupid, because the Nerd could obviously protect himself, if what he showed during the Battle Trials was anything).

It wasn't until the movie incident that Katsuki had realized what Aizawa had meant about society. What had happened was not okay, but the moment everyone heard he was Quirkless, it was like Deku didn't matter anymore. And that really pissed Katsuki off. If Shitty Hair hadn't been holding him back, he would've blown that bitch to pieces.

And it made Katsuki take a good, hard look at himself in the mirror that night. For the first time, he didn't see a hero staring back at him. He saw a villain. A bully. Someone who inspired fear in others.

"I don't want that." He clenched his fist as he stared into the mirror again. "I don't want people to fear me." The image of Deku's face through the years, covered in snot and tears. He'd always thought that shine in his eyes was resilience and that it meant he was looking down on Katsuki.

Now he knew better. It wasn't defiance or resilience. It was fear. Fear of Katsuki. Deku had been afraid of him. Izuku had been afraid of him. A tiny pop made him jump, and he realized he must've lost control of his Quirk—something that hadn't happened since he was six.

"What do I want to inspire?" He wondered as he stared at the ceiling. He didn't know how to answer that question.

The kind of hero he wanted to be... someone who never lost. Because to lose meant to lose those you cared about. It meant people would die or get hurt, and that was not allowed.

Bakugo Katsuki had no idea what kind of hero he wanted to be, nor what he wanted to inspire in others. But he'd realized that he was a complete jerk to his only friend. And that was not okay. "De–" He stopped himself. "Izuku. I hope one day, you'll be able to forgive me." He smiled at the ceiling. "I'm sorry." A tear rolled down his face as a bit of his anger dissipated.

"I was wrong."

WritingBakugoisharderthanyou'dthink.Oof.Linekunhere(Linechan'sbrother).We'retwins.

Izuku idly scrolled through the recent news on his phone as he sat on the train headed to school. He had three days left of regular classes until the Sports Festival on Thursday, and hardly anyone could concentrate on school with the event looming over their heads.

Some people were excited, while others were anxious as hell. The Movie Incident had occurred last Friday after school, so Izuku had had two days to slowly ease his friends' misconceptions of Quirkless treatment over text. Iida in particular had been shaken, having never believed people capable of such unwarranted cruelty.

Thank Time for group chats. Kirishima had been a lot friendlier with him lately, too. The guy had apparently been bullied a lot during his middle school years, and the two of them bonded a bit over it.

If Izuku had been pleasantly surprised at Shouta and Hizashi's defense of him at the movies (though he'd mostly expected it), he'd been downright shocked at Bakugo's.

The blond had contacted him later over text, and fucking apologized for being such a dick. Izuku never thought he'd see the day, regardless of timelines.

It wasn't an outright apology, mind you, but it was the Bakugo equivalent. When Lord Explosion Murder idly threatens to hurt someone that messed with you, it's his way of saying he cares, and when he says that 'that fucking bitch can go eat a can of fucking dog shit and better crap will spew from her mouth, because she doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about. Insulting a future hero like that.', it's his way of apologizing for being an ass.

Although Izuku might be the only person who'd recognize that. Ah, well. Kacchan was Kacchan even if he was a bastard who no longer deserved the nickname. At least Izuku knew his friend was still alive in there somewhere. Somewhere very, very, very, very deep down buried under all that anger.

And on Saturday, Shouta and Masa had spoken with Viridian. Apparently, the Quirkless Discrimination that the Erasure Hero had witnessed had shaken him a tad more than Izuku thought it would. He and Naomasa spent two hours with Viridian, explaining what was and what was not okay treatment of him. And to make sure that he'd come to them if he found himself in a situation like what Izuku had experienced.

(And half the shit they spewed was crap that Izuku hadn't actually realized wasn't okay, so he supposed it wasn't a total loss).

He thought it was sweet that they cared enough about him to make sure he was okay. Naomasa even explained a few laws that he could use in his favor should the need arise (when, Viridian had corrected them). Izuku decided he was going to start shopping in his Vigilante uniform from now on, considering he could fine the cashier or sue the establishment for upping prices on Quirkless people.

He might have had a little fun with that newfound freedom on Sunday, but if he did, that was between him, Keigo, and the legal offices. (And for once, he wasn't the one they were mad at).

Izuku looked at his phone when a ping notified him that the class 1–A Group Chat was active again. He had half of a witty comment typed out to Kaminari, who'd made some wise-crack about the Sports Festival, when the train suddenly lurched sideways, flying off the tracks. Izuku had barely a moment to brace himself and throw his body over the kid beside in him in the hopes of protecting them before everything went dark.

Linechanagain!Don'tmindLinekun,he'satsundere!HereallylovesalltheattentiontheWattpadreadersgivehim.^^

Izuku's eyes snapped open. He had a killer headache, but that could've been from the train. His body stayed still on some old survival instinct. He smelled smoke, but it was oddly silent. A few brave crickets sang into the night as the wind blew around him.

"Wind?" He cautiously sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was outside. There was a forest off in the not-too-far distance to his right, and what looked like desert to his left. The hell?

"Bout time you woke up, Zu." His attention immediately settled on the man who stretched his hands above his head. That long black hair with bright red roots poking up from a lack of dye touchup pulled into a low ponytail... Those glimmering blue eyes that shone like his flames. He knew this man.

"D-Dabi?" He gawked. Dabi's brows furrowed.

"Zu? Why're you looking at me like that? Are you okay?"

"I... Dabi, how...?" He paused, glancing at the far-too-familiar desert that he remembered traversing during those long winter months with Shouta. The forest he'd gone hunting in for food when they needed to eat. Though this seemed to be the North Side of the forest, rather than the East Side where he and Shouta had been... but this was all apocalypse turf. What the fuck was going on? "Dabi...? When am I?"

"Hell if I know. Calendars and phones don't fucking exist anymore, remember? What, you have a bad dream?" He gave Izuku an odd look.

No... Don't tell me... "But... the portal...?" His heart was thudding loudly in his chest. He felt like he couldn't breathe. This couldn't be real. He'd just been in the past. He'd just been on the train in Musutafu on his way to class.

"Shhh... Zu, listen to me. Breathe with me, okay?" Dabi had a gentle hand on his shoulder, which grounded him to now. He realized abruptly that he was light-headed.

A panic attack? He mentally questioned. He didn't get those. He must've really been freaking out.

"The portal didn't work." Dabi continued calmly. "That was months ago. I found you wondering around the wastelands a few days after and you explained everything to me. Project Hope failed. Remember?"

Izuku opened his mouth to argue—because obviously that was wrong—when the memories made themselves known.

He remembered hitting the ground on the other side of the portal after Shou had shoved him through. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but it didn't do anything else. When it exploded, he was buried in the rubble, and even had a few burn scars from the hot shrapnel falling on him. Shigaraki had snarled something and left, but he hadn't heard it over the rushing in his ears as the pain faded.

Izuku had laid there for hours, begging... pleading that this was wrong. That their last bid hadn't been for nothing.

But when he'd finally pulled himself from the rubble, he'd seen Shouta's remains. And it wasn't pretty. He still had nightmares of that corpse looking at him with an accusing eye (the only one remaining) as he choked on blood, blaming Izuku for failing. For miscalculating something that caused the portal's failure. That Shouta's death was for nothing.

He'd spent three days in that room, unable to comprehend that they'd failed. It was only when he'd finally come to terms with the bitter truth that Izuku had taken Shouta's Capture Weapon—because it would help him survive, and he'd somehow lost the rings in the rubble, and that made his heart fucking hurt. He'd then wrapped the tattered and bloodstained Capture Weapon around his own neck and given Shouta the closest thing to a proper burial and grave as he could. He'd sobbed. He cried harder than he had when Zashi died, and that was saying something.

He'd been so broken... so hopeless. They'd bet everything on that stupid portal, and it hadn't even fucking worked. Not only that, but they'd blown it up so Shigaraki couldn't follow on the off-chance that it would work, which meant Izuku couldn't even try again.

The odds of the portal working had only been 22.2% at best, anyways. Izuku hadn't known why he was so depressed over it, he'd expected it to fail. But he'd expected to fail alongside Shouta. He'd planned to either survive with him, or die by his side.

Izuku had never planned to survive alone.

He'd wandered the wastelands aimlessly, in the hopes of finding Shigaraki. If he couldn't kill him in the past, he'd do his damndest to kill him here. He wasn't a believer in revenge, but he'd already lost everything. What was the point in beliefs and morals when nobody existed but you?

And then he'd found Dabi. Or rather, Dabi had found him, rescuing him from a pack of Black Nomu that Izuku had honestly been fine dying by.

Izuku didn't know how Dabi had managed to survive, but he didn't really care because now he wasn't alone anymore. He and Dabi had been travelling together for months, now. The Portal's Failure had been seasons ago... maybe a year?

The memories were fresh and crisp—clear as day. But so were his 'memories' of the past. Of Keigo and Masa and Aizawa-sensei. Of the Movies and his Provisional License, and—

Izuku shook his head. "I'm sorry. I remember now. I had a dream that the portal worked... that's all. I was... confused." Now wasn't the time to share these thoughts or troubles with Dabi—the man looked like he could keel over any minute. Izuku knew the feeling.

He felt exhausted and sore all over. His stomach tied itself in knots as it tried to rebel for lack of food, and his mouth was incredibly dry. They'd need to find water soon. He idly noted that his left wrist was sprained, and he had a nicely healing gash on his left leg. "Get some rest, I'll take watch." Izuku stated, easily falling back into his old routine.

"You sure you're okay?" Dabi asked again, raising an eyebrow. "Because you looked weird before."

"Yes, Dabs. I'm fine." He huffed, chucking a rock at his companion's face, which was swiftly dodged. "Get some sleep. Time knows you need as much beauty rest as you can get to fix that ugly mug."

"Look who's talking!" Dabi glared, but there was a shine of mirth in his eyes. He settled down to rest.

Izuku kept his eyes and ears open, constantly scanning his environment. His heart ached. As the situation started to sink in, everything seemed to hit him harder than the train wreck he thought he might've experienced.

I need to think about this logically. He winced at his mental wording, as he reached into his pocket. It was impractical, these days. And the inner lens was broken, now, so it didn't even serve as protection anymore, but it was all Izuku had left of him. That and the bloodstained Capture Weapon he wore around his own neck.

He stared at the familiar yellow goggles. They were beaten, bloodstained, and worn. There was that little dent from the USJ incident, and that spot where the clasp had to be redone. The claw mark on the left side where a Nomu had nearly gotten him, only for Izuku to save him at the last second. The tiny little cloud engraved on the inside of the bridge of the nose, so Shouta could always carry some memory of Shirakumo with him wherever he went.

Izuku looked up at the stars. This... he hadn't been prepared for this. What had gone wrong? He was in the past and then the train wreck... Was that even real? It certainly felt real, and Izuku didn't think his imagination was good enough for all the details he could recall. If it was real, did he die? Did his younger self die and his memories return to his older self? Was that even possible?!

If that was true, then what the hell was he supposed to do?! He'd taken the notes on Project Hope with him to the past! It would take him decades to replicate it from scratch, and that was if he could remember everything properly.

And if his younger self was dead, was there even any hope?

"Wait, don't be stupid, Izuku." He spoke softly, needing the sound of something to ground him. He winced when Dabi stirred lightly before falling back asleep. If your younger self died, then you'd be dead too. No future without the past. Ugh, I hate time travel. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off an oncoming headache.

Okay... did it wear off, then? Is my past self just wondering around with a case of amnesia, unaware that he's Viridian and a U.A. Heroics student? He paused, stroking the familiar stubble on his chin, whiskers rough against his calloused hand.

Again, no. Because then I wouldn't be me. So... that means I'm in an unaltered future. So I didn't do... anything? So it really was fake? He felt tears of frustration and grief well up in his eyes. There had to be a way to prove it wrong. There had to be something to prove that his time in the past happened. That it was real.

Izuku had never really interacted with any of 1–A during the First Run... where he currently was right now. He had barely even known the names of the surviving class members, and that much was only because of Shou. Maybe he could find some kind of proof there? If he knew information that he should have no way of knowing, then it'd prove beyond a doubt that he really did live in the past. So he needed to confirm that his information was accurate... Maybe some object? Like some diary entry from Uraraka about how she fought against Bakugo in their first class?

No, that was stupid. Nothing like that would've survived the apocalypse.

I'm... Lost... I don't know what to do... He despaired. He was stuck. Completely and utterly stuck. He had no way of knowing why he was back in the future, or if what he'd experienced over the last year and some change was even fucking real.

What if he'd just passed through the portal and it knocked him out, like his other set of memories explained? Maybe he dreamt the whole thing. Was Dabi right?

He felt all the hope in his soul implode into a deep swirling pit of despair. Time... what the hell? I don't understand! What the hell is going on?!

All this thinking was giving him a headache. Time travel was way too confusing. He rubbed his temples, but the pounding persisted.

A nearby sound made his head snap to the left harshly. He ignored the flare of hot-cold pain that told him he'd pinched a nerve in his neck and mentally cursed. They weren't close enough to be a danger yet, but if the wind changed direction, they'd have trouble.

"Dabi." He hissed quietly, and the man startled awake silently. His gaze followed Izuku's until they landed on them. Two Dark Nomu and a Green Nomu.

The Dark Nomu looked fairly similar to the one at USJ, though they weren't as bulky, which allowed them greater speed. Their strength wasn't anything close to the USJ's Nomu, but when their bite force was greater than a shark, brute strength wasn't much of a concern anymore.

The Green Nomu walked on four legs. The hind legs were freakishly long, giving it a good jumping range, and the tail was short and thick. Most of its head was an exposed brain, and the snout was somewhat short. They were somewhat gorilla-like in appearance. They weren't overly fast, but they were freakishly tenacious.

Izuku was once tracked and chased by a Green Nomu for two months straight. They were also incredibly loud. They howled, which attracted the attention of more Nomu. General consensus was that it was never good luck to run into a Green Nomu.

"Shit." Dabi cursed. "You kill the Green one, I'll take the Dark one?" He suggested.

"Why do I have to take the Green one? What if I want the Dark one?" Izuku huffed.

"Because you're sneakier than me. If that thing howls, it'll attract every Nomu in a thirty-mile radius, and you know it."

"Fine. Leave it to me." Izuku was putting a lot of trust in Dabi, here. But that wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

He went into full stealth mode, stalking unnoticed up towards the Green Nomu. It took a painstaking eleven and a half minutes to get close enough to sprint, but still be far enough away that the Dark Nomu didn't spot him.

He gripped his sai, hand steady. This was fine. Easy, even. He knew this. He'd been doing this for years. He felt a grin spread across his face as he fell into the familiar stance. It felt good to be able to hunt Nomu again, no matter how terrifying they were. It also felt right to be in his adult body once more. While it had been strange at first, having been used to his child-sized self again (at least, he thought he was), it was frighteningly easy to adapt to his older self.

He sat, hidden in some bushes. It would only be a matter of moments. The Nomu was almost in range.

Then the wind abruptly changed direction, and the Green Nomu's eyes landed on him. He didn't hesitate. Hesitation would only get him killed, possibly Dabi too. He ran straight at it, sliding under the Nomu's gaping maw and thrusting the Sai up, catching it in the chest.

It was luck and muscle memory that allowed him to pierce its heart on the first try. It let out a strangled half-howl, but it was far too quiet to be a danger. A desperate claw nicked his arm, but he shrugged it off. It was minor, and nothing that would hinder his movements.

He felt the shadow of the Dark Nomu loom over him, felt the hot breath blow against the back of his neck. The familiar icy fingers of death brushed his aura, but Izuku didn't turn. He twisted his Sai to make sure the Green Nomu was truly dead, as Dabi—as he knew he would—set the Dark Nomu ablaze with a concentrated burst of flame to the brain.

He glanced at how close the claw had come to killing him—eight millimeters. "Cut it a little closer next time, Dabs. I'll say hi to Zashi and Shou for ya." He sent his brother a mild glare.

"Shut up and be happy I saved your sorry depressed ass at all, idiot brother."

"Asshole."

"The one and only."

Dabi jumped down as Izuku stood to face the last wary Nomu. This one must've been a particularly smart Black Nomu, because it actually backed away. It was intelligent enough to know that this prey was too strong for it.

It growled and ran.

"Aww, was it something I said?" Izuku grinned. His headache was still killing him, and the sun was starting to peek out from over the horizon. He winced and hissed lightly as the light made his head pound.

"You okay?"

"Headache." He explained as he turned away from the quickly brightening sky.

"Concussion?" Dabi tilted Izuku's head to get a better look at his eyes, watching the pupils shrink as he lit up a flame on his fingertip.

"Not that I'm aware of." Izuku growled at the light nonetheless, sharpened canines glinting in the first rays of sunlight.

"Doesn't seem like one." Dabi tapped his chin. Izuku was mildly jealous—Dabi was incapable of growing facial hair due to his burns, whereas Izuku was left with an itchy mess (and tangled if it got long enough). Though he had missed it, he just wished he could trim it up a bit—or maybe wash once in a while.

He scratched at his growing beard, idly noting that he needed to shave again. Where did he put that pocketknife?

"Come on. There'll be more of them before long. Royals have pack." Dabi led the way back to their camp and started packing their meager belongings into a bag. Royal Nomu was an alternate term for the Black Nomu—given to them due to the crown-like protrusions around their brain.

"Right." Izuku went through the motions of packing up camp. His headache was getting worse, and there was a ringing in his ears, now. Timedamnit, what the fuck?

He scrubbed his face to ground himself again and managed to pack the rest of his shit. Dabi kept glancing back at him as they traveled.

Izuku didn't make it more than four hours. His headache had gotten steadily worse, and now his vision was even cracked. "Shit, Dabs, I gotta rest... It's a migraine."

"How bad?"

"Vision's cracked. Can't see shit. And you sound garbled as fuck." He sat on the ground (wherever they were, it felt like the forest) and covered his eyes, bringing a brief relief.

"All right. I'm going to find us some shelter, then." Dabi sighed before Izuku felt himself being picked up.

"Hoi!" He protested. "I am a grown adult! I can walk!"

"Shut up, you can't walk in that condition, and you're stupid if you think I'm leaving you. Besides, you're not even that heavy. Perks of malnutrition." Dabi smirked. Izuku sighed as he resigned himself to this torment. He rested his head against Dabi's chest, listening to the man's heartbeat.

"Hey, Dabs?"

"Yeah?"

"If I ever really did go to the past, would you want me to find you?"

He heard Dabi snort. "Nah. I was a punk-assed little shit. You wouldn't want to run into me. I would've likely flambéed your ass without a second thought."

"Noted." Izuku chuckled weakly. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and subconsciously pressed closer to it.

"Damn, Izuku. You're burning up." He sounded worried.

"I am?"

"Yeah." He was quiet for a long moment. "If you really did go to the past, I'd want you to save my family."

"The Todoroki family?"

"Yeah. Our father was an abusive asshole who beat us up under the guise of training. He got our mother tossed in a mental hospital after she burned Shouto because of the abuse he put her through. None of us really knew what happened, and Shouto never talked about it, but that was sort of the tipping point for me." He took a deep breath and sighed. "I told you that I was a Todoroki, right?"

"Yeah."

"My real name is Touya. Todoroki Touya."

"You don't like it?"

"It's not that." Dabi smiled a little. "I tried to kill Endeavor. He'd been beating our mother for as long as I could remember, and I was just sick of it. And poor Shouto didn't deserve that, either. But he burned me, instead. My flames are a lot hotter than his, but I was inexperienced. He gave me these scars, and I let him think me dead."

"You faked your own death? I think I remember you telling me that."

"I might have. I can't remember, either." Dabi laughed. "It's not that I dislike my name—Touya. My mother gave it to me, and it's my only gift from her I have left... but I ran away from my family. I abandoned them because I was too scared to go back. I don't have the right to go by the name anymore... not when I left my siblings... Shouto to that monster."

"Touya." Izuku tested the name on his tongue. "I like it. It sounds nice."

"I'm not Touya, though." Dabi gave him a bitter smile as he set him down on an old worn blanket. "I gave up the right to my mother's name when I left my siblings for dead. I'm Dabi, now. And that's the name I'll have until the day I die." He sighed as he set their stuff down. It was a lot darker in here, and Izuku's headache eased a bit. He glanced around.

"A cave?"

"Yeah. The entrance is pretty small, so the Nomu shouldn't be able to reach us, here."

"Thank you, Dabi. For telling me about your past." Izuku smiled.

"Thank you for listening." Dabi smiled softly.

"Can I sleep, Dabs?"

"Yeah, Zu. You can sleep."

Izuku closed his eyes and let his headache consume him. The last thing he heard was Dabi's forlorn sigh. "If you ever make it to the past, Izuku... Save me. I don't want to die nameless."

Oooh!WefinallygetDabiinhere!Also,what'stheauthorplanning?!WhyhasIzukugonebacktothefuture?!Whatthehellisgoingon?!Guessyou'lljusthavetoreadtofindout.

Izuku gasped awake, clutching his head in agony. He blinked several times, but nothing made sense. Garbled words registered in his pain-addled mind as far away, and it took him several minutes before he managed to crack open an eye.

This wasn't the cave he'd fallen asleep in. He blinked as his brain began to organize itself. Gears started spinning and his headache quickly died down to a dull throbbing roar. He was buried beneath rubble. Had he and Dabi been attacked? No, he surely would've woken up, fever or not.

He knew better than to call out to his brother. There could be Nomu—or worse, Shigaraki—around. But something wasn't right. He scrubbed his eyes as he hesitantly sat up, noting minute movement next to him. The rubble had fallen around him, creating a bubble of space.

No, that wasn't right. He was staring at a chair. A chair on the... wall?

The train.

Everything clicked into place. He heard people moaning around him in the distance, but the way his car had crashed isolated him from any other survivors. If he'd been sitting even one chair to the left, he'd have been crushed. As it was, the man who'd been sitting across from him was staring blankly at the ceiling, a puddle of sticky red letting Izuku know that he was already gone.

Okay. I'm... back in the past? Again? What the fuck? He was relieved, worried, angry and confused. But most of all, Izuku was scared.

He was relieved because that meant he could now go back to trying to kill Shigaraki and preventing this entire disaster. Worried because what was going on with Dabi in the future now? Angry, because this kind of shit would only fucking happen to him, and confused because he really had no idea what the fuck was going on.

And he was scared. He was terrified, because he didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. Was this real? Or was he dreaming again? What was the real one, then? The future, or the past? Did the portal work, or not?! Who was even alive anymore?!

Was he Izuku the Survivor? Or Viridian the Hero?

He didn't know anymore. He mentally shook his head, shoving his panic and questions to the back of his mind. That wasn't what he needed to think about right now. People were in trouble—he was in trouble. Izuku needed to find a way out of this wreckage before he really did bite the dust. (He mentally winced at his choice of wording, the phrase hitting a little too close to home with the state Shigaraki's victims were left in).

The voices became a bit clearer, and he recognized the telltale sounds of a hero fight nearby. Ah, a villain must've overturned the train, and now heroes were on the scene.

He reached up to his head with a wince, pulling his hand back with blood. Ow. Concussion. Not cool. He stopped when he saw his arm.

The scratch he'd gotten from the Green Nomu was still there. It looked just as it had when he'd fallen asleep in the cave. And while someone else could easily mistake it for damage done by the crash, Izuku knew what a Nomu's claw injury looked like. Nothing could quite replicate it. He also stopped to stare in horrified fascination at the inside of his left wrist.

In the new First Run memories floating around in his head, the aftermath of the Portal's destruction had left him with several burn scars where hot shrapnel had fallen on him. One piece of metal had a symbol etched into it, the universal symbol of infinity—a lemniscate. It was now branded on the inside of his left wrist, but he'd gotten that after the Portal had exploded.

This made no sense.

His attention abruptly shifted to movement next to him, his head whipped to the side just as it had with the Nomu earlier that day—or... whatever. He realized a kid was there. That's right... I shoved my seat-partner out of the way when we crashed.

"He—" Izuku started coughing. "Hey." He tried again, and the boy awoke. His purple eyes looked around panicked even as his poofy purple hair sprung out in every direction. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah..." He looked startled.

"Thank goodness." Izuku smiled. "I'm Midoriya Izuku." He held out a hand. Confusion could wait. He needed to protect this kid.

"Shinsou Hitoshi." He eyed Izuku's uniform for a moment. "Hero Course?"

"Yeah. U.A. You go there, too, right?"

"General Education." He glowered. Izuku recognized that look. "So what's your Quirk? Must be something powerful if you're in the Hero Course." His tone was bitter. He probably has a bad stigma or weakly perceived Quirk.

"Sorry, I don't have one." Izuku shrugged easily as Shinsou startled badly.

"You... you're Quirkless?" He gaped. "But I thought you said you were in the... The rumors are true?"

"We can talk about that later." Izuku shook his head softly, careful of his concussion. "Are you hurt?"

"No? I don't think so." He eyed Izuku warily. "You didn't ask about my Quirk."

"I assumed it wasn't something relevant to our current situation, since you asked about mine first."

"Brainwashing isn't useful against steel."

"That's a cool Quirk." Izuku smiled, startling the boy. "I'm sure you get the 'villain's Quirk' card a lot. I get it—trust me. I've been Quirkless all my life. So don't expect that from me, yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiled softly. "Any ideas how to get us out of here, though?"

"Er..." He looked around. They could break the window, but the entire structure was unstable. And from the looks of it, the window led to a nice drop that he estimated would kill them both. So that was a no. The rest of the car was crushed, meaning no escape there, either.

"We must've been thrown off the tracks and into a building." He guessed.

"Can't we go out this way?" Shinsou approached the window, but the car gave an ominous creaking sound that had him hastily retreating.

"Yeah, no. Not unless you can brainwash a few birds to slow our descent."

"Animals are not my forte. Tried it, and I still got bit by that dog."

"All right, plan b, then. Call for help." Izuku looked around for the sign of his phone, which had been in his hand during the crash. He caught the telltale glint of black poking out from the pool of blood on the floor across from him. Thank fucking time I had Keigo waterproof and reinforce this motherfucker. Thank you Keigo. I owe you a ton.

"Hah. Yeah, no. Mine's trash." Shinsou held up the crushed remains of what had been a smart phone.

"You can probably salvage the information from the phone. Looks like it's mostly the screen that's damaged." He reached out and plucked his phone from the cooling puddle of red, making Shinsou turn an interesting shade of green. Izuku casually flicked a piece of skull off his phone and wiped the screen clean (or as clean as he could) with his shirt. "Luckily, a hero friend of mine fixed this up for me."

"You have a hero friend?"

"He saved me from a villain attack once and now he practically lives with me." Izuku chuckled.

He thanked his lucky stars that Masa had let Viridian take a 'day off' from watching Midoriya. The detective had needed the vigilante-turned-hero to help out on another case (which said vigilante promptly made a huge amount of headway on and set his e-mail to send the file at a specific time so it wouldn't look like he was in school). Otherwise, he'd have a lot of explaining to do as to why he wasn't helping Midoriya escape the train.

"Oh, shit." He cussed quietly as he checked the time. Class had started half an hour ago. He had a ton of messages from his friends, and even one from Aizawa himself. Perks of never missing class, he supposed. When something was wrong, people figured it out pretty damn quickly.

"What's up?"

"Classes started half an hour ago." Izuku sighed. Shinsou snorted in disbelief.

"That's your concern? We're sitting in a burning train with what sounds like a villain fight outside, and you're worried about missing classes?"

"You obviously haven't met Aizawa-sensei." Izuku smirked.

His phone lit up again, Aizawa was calling. Speak of the devil. He answered it.

"Problem Child, where are you? School started half an hour ago." He sounded worried and impatient. Likely assuming that Izuku had gotten distracted or something, but there was that edge of uncertainty in his voice.

The sound of his voice brought up all the memories future-him had. Of realizing that Shouta was gone, and he was alone. Finding his remains and taking the bloodstained Capture Weapon as a memento. His informal funeral... His hand went for the Capture Weapon, only to realize it wasn't there. He settled for gripping the rings instead. Shou...

"So-" Izuku broke off into another coughing fit for a moment. The smoke was getting worse.

"Midoriya?" His tone was more urgent this time.

"Sorry, sensei." He managed to wheeze out as he caught his breath. Shinsou awkwardly patted his back to help him breathe. "I... er... got caught up on the way to school."

"That's an understatement." Shinsou rolled his eyes.

"Where are you? What's wrong?"

"Er... I think the train I was on got attacked by a villain?" He guessed. "Might be on the news, I don't really know. I'm sorry, I'll be there as soon as I can."

He heard Shouta let out a huff of worry and disbelief. "Please don't tell me you took the A–18 Train."

"Uh..." He looked at Shinsou, who nodded. The look on his face clearly judged him for not knowing which train he'd gotten on, but in Izuku's defense, he was a little discombobulated at the moment. And concussed. "Yeah. That's the one."

"Goddamnit Problem Child!" He cursed, and Izuku blinked in surprise at the swear. "I'm on my way, stay on the phone."

"Uh... okay?" He was confused. Was it that bad of an incident? He knew it was probably bad, but hearing the way his sensei was reacting... It was unlike Shouta to show such panic or worry openly in his tone.

"Listen to me. The train is in a very volatile state right now. Newscasters say it could blow—or fall, depending on which car you're in—any minute. If you can, you need to find a way out. Heroes on the scene are mostly engaged in fighting the villains that caused this."

"Right... Uh, sensei? I'm also with another U.A. Student."

"Shit. Okay, are either of you injured?"

"Um... I've got a concussion for sure. I think..." He moved a bit more, testing limbs and movement. "Dislocated shoulder... gimme a sec." He hastily popped it back into place, and he could've sworn he heard Aizawa hiss on the other line. Shinsou looked a little green. "Okay, that's fixed. Um..."

"You're crazy." Shinsou stared.

"Yeah, I know." Izuku shrugged, wincing a bit at his sore shoulder.

"You're giving me grey hairs, kid."

"That's cool." He replied without thinking. "Okay, yeah concussion. I think that's the main one. Shinsou says he's fine, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's got one, too."

"Hold tight, Problem Child. We're on our way."

Aww~Dadzawahasappeared!HopefullyhecansaveourBroccoliboiandPurpleBoi?

Shouta's day had started with one of his cats laying across his face and a dead alarm clock. Not ideal by anyone's standards, and that meant that he started off a full thirty minutes behind schedule. Hizashi had left fairly early to grade papers before classes started (something Shouta did at night between the end of the school day and start of his patrol, which he'd recently been able to get back to), so nobody was there to wake him up except the cats.

So not only did he wake up mildly panicked and majorly cranky (and without his morning cuddles), but because he was running behind he didn't have time to eat. Okay, fine. That's what the jelly pouches were for. He snagged one and poured his coffee into his thermos to drink it on the way to school. He could still make it on time if—

And then he'd tripped over Cocoa, one of his cats. She was fine, thankfully. Pissy, but fine. But Shouta hadn't gotten the lid on his thermos yet, and the coffee spilled all over the hardwood floor. Cocoa yowled angrily at him and sent him a baleful glare from her new perch on the arm of the couch. Shouta glared right back.

By the time he'd cleaned that up (because you do not leave coffee laying around where cats can get to it, nor do you leave liquids on hardwood floors), he realized he'd had just enough time to make one more cup.

Except that was the last bit of coffee in the house. He was out. Fuck his procrastination tendencies; he knew he should've gone grocery shopping yesterday.

So no coffee. Wonderful. He grabbed his keys and hurried out the door, intent on at least getting to class on time. He could grab some of the coffee from the break room before homeroom. He'd just have to suffer until then.

But no. Fucking traffic was a bitch and a half today. He parked his car, scaled the side of U.A. (nobody saw, thankfully), and slipped into the doors of 1–A seconds after the bell rang.

Today was looking like a fuckfest already. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. He opened his mouth to tell his class that he was going to do exactly that, and not to bother him, when his eyes landed on Midoriya's empty seat.

His mouth snapped shut and suddenly, Shouta didn't feel like sleeping anymore. Midoriya had never been late or absent, and his middle school records were much the same. "Where's Midoriya?"

"I don't know, sensei. He hasn't answered any of our texts." Uraraka answered worriedly.

His gut was twisting uncomfortably, and Shouta knew to trust his gut above all else. But right now, he couldn't do much of anything. So he hesitantly went ahead with homeroom, shooting the kid a message. It was entirely possible that Shouta was overreacting and his gut was just angry with him for missing his daily fix of caffeine.

Maybe Iida was right, and Midoriya overslept? Shouta, himself, had done so that very same morning. If he didn't hear back from him by the time homeroom ended, he'd call. Most kids don't hear texts anyways. Ringtones were set louder than texts, after all.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, Shouta dismissed class and went straight for the Teacher's Lounge. His coworkers were all watching the TV. His eyes caught the headlines. A robbery gone wrong. Fleeing villains attacked and derailed a train in their attempt to get away, and now heroes were trying to rescue people and hold back the flames. The villains were still occupying most of the attention, unfortunately, but it looked like the train was going to blow. Shouta didn't catch if it was because of the engine, or because of a Quirk. Part of the train had even been flung into a nearby building, and was dangling from where it was embedded four stories up. All Might was already on the scene, helping subdue the villains. It should be dealt with shortly, but...

Shouta's gut churned with a sickening violence. He pulled out his phone and called Midoriya. Luckily, he picked up almost immediately.

"Problem Child, where are you? School started half an hour ago." His voice came out a little harsher than he intended, but he was worried, damnit. Thirteen, Hizashi and Cementoss turned their gaze towards Shouta.

"Midoriya wasn't in class?" Hizashi asked, and Shouta shook his head.

"So-" Midoriya's voice cut off into terrible hacking coughs, and his feeling got worse. There was an odd sound in the background, like creaking or crackling. It was hard to tell over the phone.

"Midoriya?"

"What's wrong?" Cementoss' gaze sharpened. Shouta shrugged. How the hell was he supposed to know?! The kid was hacking up a lung on the other end of the phone.

"Sorry, sensei." God, he sounded horrible. His voice was painful to listen to. It sounded like the kid ate sandpaper. "I... er... got caught up on the way to school."

Was that another voice in the background? "Where are you? What's wrong?" This kid's track record was frankly terrifying. Of course, on the one day they told Viridian he didn't need to watch the kid.

"Er... I think the train I was on got attacked by a villain? Might be on the news, I don't really know. I'm sorry, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Shouta's brain froze and he felt himself pale rapidly. His eyes were wide and he exhaled sharply, mostly to try to get his brain working again. "Please don't tell me you took the A–18 Train."

The staff stiffened. "You mean he's in that?!" Hizashi pointed to the TV.

"Uh... Yeah. That's the one."

"Goddamnit Problem Child!" Shouta couldn't fucking believe this kid's terrible luck. He muted the phone for a brief moment. "He's in that mess." He told the others.

"I'll inform Nezu." Cementoss said, running out the door.

"I'm coming along." Thirteen stated, looking at Shouta. They were an excellent rescue hero, and Shouta would take whatever help he could get, if he was being honest.

"Me too." Hizashi said. "Classes can be taught by someone else."

Shouta nodded as he unmuted the phone. "I'm on my way, stay on the phone."

"Uh... okay?" The kid sounded confused and disorientated. His tone was so different from the confident and assured tone he had during class, or even the quiet unsure voice he used when talking about bullying. There was an edge of detachment and uncertainty about it. If Shouta hadn't spent so much time around the kid, he probably wouldn't even have picked up on it. But he did. And it scared him.

"Listen to me. The train is in a very volatile state right now. Newscasters say it could blow—or fall depending on which car you're in—any minute. If you can, you need to find a way out. Heroes on the scene are mostly engaged in fighting the villains that caused this."

"Right... Uh, sensei? I'm also with another U.A. Student."

"Shit." He winced. He hadn't meant to curse into the phone... again. "Okay, are either of you injured?"

Shouta was already running out to the car. "I think he has a concussion. He sounds really detached and really out of it. He also says there's another U.A. Student with him. Inform Nezu, and have him see who's missing today." He told the other two heroes, who winced.

"Um... concussion for sure." Midoriya's voice filtered in through the phone. "I think... Dislocated shoulder... gimme a sec." Shouta hissed when he heard a distinctive pop. He did not need to know that his student could relocate his own shoulder so nonchalantly. "Okay, that's fixed. Um..." He heard someone—likely the other student—mutter something and Izuku replied with a chipper "Yeah, I know."

"You're giving me grey hairs, kid."

"What'd he do?" Hizashi asked as he drove like a madman, wheel clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

"Relocated his own shoulder." Shouta answered, causing them to wince.

"That's cool." God, he's so out of it. Shouta was beyond worried, now. He'd never heard Midoriya sound like this. Not even during or after USJ—and he'd been thrown into a fountain. "Okay, yeah concussion. I think that's the main one. Shinsou says he's fine, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's got one, too."

"Hold tight, Problem Child. We're on our way."

He didn't remember when he'd handed the phone off to Hizashi, but he must've because he soon found himself jumping from the car window with his Capture Weapon before it even rolled to a stop. He followed the billow of smoke right to the wreckage.

It was bad. "Eraserhead." Thirteen looked at him. "Mic says that Midoriya and Shinsou were in the eighth train car. It's one of the cars up there." They pointed to the building that had a car embedded in it, another hanging down. The other two cars had already fallen, likely killing all survivors that had been inside.

"The other heroes are already working on the grounded cars. We'll skip over to eight and nine." He decided. There were plenty of rescue heroes there, and from what he could see the eighth car was one that got mostly crushed at some point—likely the point of impact for derailing the train. Midoriya was damn lucky he was still alive. So was Shinsou.

"Roger that." Thirteen affirmed as they ran over to the scene.

Shouta hated disasters like this. People were running everywhere, screaming and crying and making noises of despair as they realized loved ones were lost forever. He hated it.

It reminded him of Shirakumo.

He shook his head as they got to work. All Might had the villains handled. They didn't need to worry about being interrupted. They made the hectic trek up the side of the building, which was thankfully not currently in use due to construction. At least he didn't have to worry about evacuating them, too. Shouta used his Capture Weapon to scale it from the outside, while Thirteen went through the inside. It took far longer than Shouta would've liked to reach the cars, but Thirteen was already cautiously dissolving the bits of rubble and train car they dared to try to create an exit for the survivors. It was risky—one wrong move, and Thirteen could end up accidentally dissolving one of the parts that kept the cars from falling and killing everyone.

Hizashi was working with Thirteen, dragging out as many survivors (and sometimes bodies) as he could.

But Shouta didn't have time to think about what his teammates were doing. He caught sight of movement in one of the car windows. And started to make his way over.

"Midoriya!" He called out.

"Sensei!" It was quiet, but Shouta heard it. He followed the sound to the window he'd caught movement in. Shouta carefully broke the glass and slipped inside. The car creaked ominously under his weight, but held.

There was blood and debris everywhere, but the two boys seemed to be in one piece. "Midoriya." He crouched down. He looked like hell. There was blood running down his face and Shouta couldn't tell how much of the blood on his uniform was his own, and how much was from the other passengers that weren't so lucky.

Shouta caught sight of a dead civilian. Hopefully Midoriya's concussion kept him from noticing that detail, because this poor kid's been through enough trauma. He didn't need to be stuck in a small space with a man with a caved in skull for almost an hour.

"You're Shinsou, right?" He took stock of the other child, who was sitting next to Midoriya. A boy, likely a first year, with purple hair and eyes. His bags reminded Shouta of his own, and he looked roughed up and shaken, but otherwise fine. He looked a hell of a lot better than Midoriya, that's for sure.

He nodded in affirmation. "Shinsou Hitoshi, class 1–C."

Shinsou was shaking a bit, obviously frightened and in a mild form of shock. It was a normal reaction to this kind of situation, and Shouta would've been much more worried had he been calm.

Speaking of which, Problem Child was not shaking. He had a somewhat vacant look in his eye that briefly made Shouta wonder if he was in another flashback (it was a valid concern given the magnitude of the situation), but he seemed aware of his environment this time. His eyes tracked Shouta's movements as best they could, and he didn't seem to be reacting to any hallucinations of his past.

"It's okay, now. I'm here." Shouta quickly checked both boys for anything that would inhibit moving them. His student tensed a little under his touch. Once he'd ascertained that it was safe to move them, he gently picked them up, wrapping the two boys up in his Capture Weapon for protection and ease of movement. Luckily, they were both small and he could manage them both together.

Midoriya ran a hand over the material like he'd never seen it before. There was an odd and concerning expression on Midoriya's face, like he wasn't sure what was real. It did not sit right with Shouta at all.

"Did you find him?" Hizashi called out. Shouta was carefully making his way back out through the broken window he'd climbed through, and finding the handholds he'd used to climb over to the train. Shinsou clung to him a little tighter, likely afraid of falling, but Midoriya looked right at home at such heights. Another worry.

"Yeah! I've got him." Shouta reassured. "Midoriya, stay with me, okay? Don't fall asleep." He slowly climbed his way up to a window of the building and kicked it in. He wasted no time heading towards Thirteen and Hizashi.

"Mmm... mkay, Shou." He sounded like he was falling asleep, which was bad. "No sleeping. If I can't nap, neither can you. Shinsou, make sure he doesn't fall asleep."

"R-right." The kid looked much better now that Shouta's feet were on solid ground. The purple-haired boy flicked Midoriya's nose, causing said boy to flinch back.

Midoriya made a sound of discontent, but his eyes were a little clearer. "Someone didn't get their coffee this morning." He looked at Shouta as he said it.

"No, I didn't." He answered with a frown. "Today sucks."

"You can say that again." Midoriya coughed a bit and Shouta winced, partially expecting to see blood. He was mildly relieved when there wasn't any.

He finally found Thirteen and Hizashi. There were several civilians around them, not all of them alive.

The train moaned again, louder this time as several snapping sounds were heard. "Watch out! It's falling!" Thirteen warned, and people covered their ears and head. Hizashi reached out towards the train, grabbing someone's hand at the last moment.

As the train fell and crashed to the ground with a massive boom, the Voice Hero grinned, lifting a young woman up and safely setting her down on solid ground.

"Mommy!!" A young boy ran over, embracing the rescued woman with a loud sob. Hizashi smiled, and Shouta did so internally. It was reasons like this that pushed him to become a hero. Because if he could save just one more person, the he would.

They lead the group of survivors (dragged or carried in some of their cases) back down to ground level.

Shouta finally stepped out into the sunlight. "Come on. All Might's already evacuated the other train cars." Thirteen explained. "Heroes are being asked to evacuate, too."

"Right." Shouta nodded as they quickly made their way towards the ambulances.

They'd just rounded the corner of a building when an explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet. He instinctively shielded Midoriya and Shinsou with his body, trying to protect the kids from anything that could worsen their condition. He didn't think Shinsou was hurt, but better safe than sorry.

"You okay, Little Listener?" Hizashi asked, looking at their student with open concern.

"I'll be fine." He answered, a bit of a slur to his words. "'ve had worse. Just a concussion. Recov'ry G'rl should be fine."

"No, Problem Child." Shouta argued. "You're going to a hospital."

"Don't wanna. I'll miss school."

"Midoriya, missing school is not that big of an issue." Thirteen sighed, exasperated as they helped Shinsou over to an ambulance.

"I don't like hospitals." Midoriya argued back, a stubborn gleam to his eye that reminded Shouta strongly of Viridian.

"Too bad." Shouta sent him a mild glare. But there was a gleam of... something in Midoriya's eye. It wasn't quite fear, but it was something similar. He felt himself sigh. "Would it be better if I came with you?"

"...Yeah." Midoriya admitted.

He sighed and climbed into the ambulance with the kid.

Aizawa: Midoriya is safe. He was with a student named Shinsou Hitoshi, who obtained no visible injuries. I'm enroute to the hospital with Midoriya. Please have someone cover my classes (preferably not All Might).

Nezu: I'm glad he's safe. I'll be coming to visit, too. I think Kayama will be able to cover.

Kayama: You got it. Make sure the tyke is okay, yeah? Keep us posted.

Ishiyama: I'm glad he's all right. News footage made us think the worst.

Yamada: Well it was pretty damn rough. Lots of people didn't make it. I'll be back on campus soon, so I won't need a full-day sub.

Nezu: Shinsou Hitoshi is the other student. General Education, class 1–C. Your class, I believe, Snipe?

Snipe: Yeah. I'd been wondering where he was, but it isn't his first absence. I'm glad he's safe. Kid's got a good heart with a strong thirst for heroics.

Nezu: Aizawa, please keep us informed.

Aizawa: Of course.

He locked his phone. He must've zoned out at some point, because before he knew it, he was sitting by his student's bedside in the hospital. Said Problem Child was still awake—albeit begrudgingly so. He kept glaring at the hospital like it had personally offended him.

"How're you feeling?" The kid startled a little bit, having been lost in his thoughts. He still looked a little out of it, but not nearly as bad as before.

"I'm... okay, I guess. Just a little disorientated."

"That's understandable."

"Thanks, sensei. For saving us."

"Try not to get into any more trouble." Shouta begged. "The Sports Festival is three days away, and I really don't want to see you in a hospital bed anytime before then. Or during. Or after."

Midoriya chuckled. "I have no intentions of landing myself in the hospital, sensei."

"Ah, that reminds me." Shouta spoke up. "We were unable to contact your mother regarding your hospital stay. And it seems the number on file is Hawks'. We need the number of your mother or legal guardian." The kid stiffened, and looked abruptly nervous—though he hid it well.

That possible abuse case is looking more and more likely. He internally frowned. Viridian would've told them, though... right?

But Viridian's Quirkless... He realized, biting his tongue as he realized their mistake. Over 85% of Quirkless kids were abused, neglected, or abandoned. Viridian was likely no exception. He might not realize that Midoriya was being abused if that was the case. Just like he hadn't known half the shit they'd explained to him.

For God's sake, they had to tell him that it was wrong that he'd been consistently denied medical care for a good portion of his life! It was no wonder he hated hospitals.

He eyed Midoriya. Perhaps that was why the kid didn't want to go to a hospital alone. Was he afraid of being mistreated and neglected by the hospital staff? After seeing that manager at the movies (and she'd been beyond fired when Shouta and Hizashi were through with her; she'd never find a job with the public again) he honestly wouldn't put it past them. It was one of the reasons why Shouta hadn't left the room.

"...fter...stival." His attention snapped back to the unusually quiet boy.

"What was that?"

"I said I'll tell you after the Sports Festival." Midoriya looked at his hands as he played with the sheets. The motion drew Shouta's attention to an old gunshot wound on the kid's left arm. The scar itched at his mind but for the life of him, he couldn't understand why.

"Does it have to wait until after the festival? Nezu's going to be coming by later, and I can ask Hizashi to join him?" If they could get answers sooner...

"I'm sorry, sensei." He smiled sadly. "I just... want to be a kid for a little bit longer. Is that okay? Just until after the festival."

"Be a... kid? You are a kid." Despite his words, though, he couldn't help but notice Midoriya's eyes. They looked ancient. Like a jaded soldier who was still trapped in battles long passed. He couldn't help but think that those were definitely not the eyes of a child.

"Please. I'll explain everything after. I swear it. Just... not today. I..." Something flashed in the boy's eyes. A sort of confused pain. He gripped his left wrist, where he'd seen a small burn scar that honestly looked like more of a brand than Shouta would like to admit. "I can't mentally handle that today." He stated.

Shouta sighed. It was worth a shot, but he knew when to call it quits. "All right." He smiled, ruffling the boy's hair gently. The kid giggled a little, sending him a grateful smile. "You should be okay to rest for a bit. I'm going to grab some coffee."

"Promise you'll come back?"

"Promise."

He opened the door and nearly missed the tiny voice Midoriya used.

"Alive?"

Shouta turned to stare into dark green eyes. "Alive." He promised. The kid smiled and relaxed. A silent appreciation and relief in his expression. The hero left the room with an odd weight on his shoulders. The promise was heavier than he'd expected, but he fully intended to keep it.

I'll always return alive, Problem Child. I won't break your trust.