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“...Huh? And it ends, just like that? The day is won – the heroes are safe, and the villains are eradicated?”

The evidence sits in front of his face: his novel, which he adored so fiercely, had ended. The author left a lengthy comment explaining their choice to end their long running light novel, “ My Hero Academia ,” and thanked their readers for their support. Mikumo refreshes the page, and then refreshes it again. He buries his hand in his hair. Refreshes it again. “That's all?” he mutters. “That's the end of the story? No death, no heartbreak – everyone is just okay , at the end?”

This novel, My Hero Academia , started when he was eight years old. During those times where he'd shut the door on his mother and father fighting – and those times where the subsequent silence in their household became too much to bear – he'd scurry on to his phone and read, read, read. He'd read new chapters, and then chapters already posted, and sometimes he'd start all the way over if he wanted. He imagined himself in that world, a lot of the time: him, fighting along his favorite character Bakugou Katsuki, wielding a katana , saving the world from the evil All For One and his predecessor, Shigaraki Tomura.

Badass, he would think. Totally badass…! Super badass! His mind would run wild. Illustrations were sparsely added to the novel, but occasionally he'd come across fan art that depicted Bakugou Katsuki, and with different interpretations of his hero gear. He always thought it was the coolest, and especially the way his power worked – all of it, so cool. He loved Bakugou’s fearless personality, which he tried to emulate in real life (but could never do so, not successfully). He loved Bakugou's scathing insults and encouraging words hidden in snarls. He loved watching the protagonist, Todoroki Shouto, become closer to him.

At 8, he thought this. At 12, he did too. And the word count continued to increase and his home felt emptier and emptier, so his smartphone and kendo fights on his computer became his best friend. Bundled under blankets, he would take in every word that the author wrote with such admiration that it was sickening. Then he'd say, “fuck off and die!” to another kid, and then he'd be in trouble. But him being in trouble didn't matter, as long as his heroes kept advancing. Kept climbing.

Bakugou Katsuki wanted to be the world's greatest. In Mikumo's heart, he already was.

“It's over,” Mikumo sighs, with finality. “It's over.”

…

“How can I… accept such a stupid ending?! ”

He throws his phone on the ground and crushes it with his foot. “What's with this clearly rushed ending?! They just resolved everything at once?! What about all of the loosely put together plots? What about the Liberation Army? What about Ochako's blossoming relationship with Katsuki?! Don't give me that timeskip bullshit! ”

He digs his heel into the screen. “Am I supposed to be okay with this?! Stupid author…! Stupid author!! I want my time back!!”

For such a clichéd ending, where everyone is happy and no one dies, not even the teacher… what sort of ending is that?! Were the villains actually huge babies the entire time?! For goodness sake, Mineta had died and no one seemed to factor that into how the characters would interact in the final battle! No mentions of him, or Mina, or anyone! “I followed you for eight years…” Mikumo spits. “Eight years of my life… wasted on this stupid novel… seriously, what the hell gives… if I were author, I'd take another eight years to slowly kill myself for such a shitty ending! Fuck that! Fuck that entire novel!”

When he was 8… when he was 12… was all of that time wishing for a good story for nothing? Did he waste all of that time, become dependent on all of those characters, just for an ending that satisfies nothing in his heart? For a shitty ending to a shitty novel? He clenches his fists. Did he rely on Bakugou Katsuki to pull him out of that darkness, when his father left and his mother wanted as little to do with him as possible, just for the author to blindside him and stab him in the back? Did he donate to the author, did he share the author's story online, did he read every word with worship – just for this?

“Don't give me that timeskip bullshit,” Mikumo says, voice raspy and cracking at the edges as his fists shake and he digs small crescents into his palms, “when you don't care enough to give a real ending, at the end of the day…”

When he was 8… when he was 12…

For nothing, he thinks, and he slams his foot into his phone screen once more to really make sure it's broken. If I were the author, I wouldn't give my audience such horsecrap. I would… I would…

I would do it properly.

The underpass suddenly thrums to life. Vibrations settle deep into his core in the split second that it takes to realize his situation: under a dark bridge, with dark clothing, doing nothing but standing in the middle of the street and sniffing back furious years about an online web novel. There's lights on him and he thinks, this is really cliché, isn't it…? and then he doesn't think about anything but the searing pain that cuts through his system like a thousand-degree knife, hot and scalding and burning his skin. The sun is hot on his face and the road is hard on his back.

The car has already driven away. His phone is broken and he can't call for help, and barely anyone uses the road on this underpass anyway. He uses all of his strength – and that's not much – to lift his trembling arm. His hand, still clenched into an angry ball, rubs against the wet feeling on his face, and when he pulls it back to stare with his good eye he sees nothing but syrupy red blood.

He laughs wetly. Blood probably trickles from his mouth. His hand goes limp and crashes against the concrete, and it hurts. His entire body hurts – a sharp, twisting ache that shoots alarm bells to his brain, telling him that he's going to die.

He wants to say, it's okay. I probably would have killed myself anyway. I have practically no friends and my mother barely looks at me when we manage to align our schedules and be in the same room as each other. I’m passing all of my classes so I can't even worry about my dwindling grades. There's nothing to worry about anymore since that novel was so terrible.

He tries to think that. He really does. The sun looks so big from here, all in his face and shining brilliantly, drowning out noise and feeling and smell and, and… “No,” he whispers. “I don't want to die yet…” The sun is beating on his face but he still feels warmth trickle out of him like it's bleeding away instead. Then, in hysterics, he tries to laugh and he mumbles, “I want to make a fanfiction of that shitty novel, where I save the ending.”

He tries to say that, at least, but Akatani Mikumo succumbs to his injuries before he says his earnest wish.

Midoriya Izuku is a barely explained character in the novel. Bakugou Katsuki, as much as Mikumo wished he was, was not the main character – that privilege went to pretty boy Todoroki Shouto, whose looks could burn someone alive and whose jaw was as sharp as an icicle (whatever that means). Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto's number one rival, described his childhood friend like this: a spineless coward, whose cowardness eventually killed him.

Mikumo wanted to know as much as he could about the best character, Bakugou Katsuki, so he paid attention to every scrap of information he could get about this quiet, yet loud Midoriya Izuku. This green-haired, freckled, big-eyed loser, a quirkless freak who served to remind Katsuki of his mistakes. His failures. Midoriya Izuku held on to Katsuki like a cold, unyielding snake, and his presence was thick whenever Katsuki went through a rough spot. His motivations and morality stemmed from the incident – when Midoriya Izuku had killed himself by jumping off of their middle school roof.

The incident is never brought up by Bakugou Katsuki himself – but that just means that Bakugou Katsuki never says it with his own mouth. He sure says it though, in every step he takes, every action he does, every strange flinch and every piece of unwarranted compassion. Dedicated fans (including Mikumo) had to put the pieces together from the sparse information they could squeeze out of Katsuki through Todoroki Shouto. But the incident makes Bakugou wary around his old middle school, and it makes him an advocate for anti-bullying (despite how rough he is, his heart of gold shines valiantly), and it especially comes into play whenever a quirkless person is brought to the stage – Bakugou Katsuki defends the weaker with his life .

Ain't that what being a hero is all about? Bakugou Katsuki says, in that cool rough voice of his. He wipes a splatter of blood on his lip off with his thick glove, and he grins widely. In Mikumo's dreams he can see it vividly, the wild blonde hair and the dangerous red eyes. You got power, so you save the guys that don't. Then he turns to the villain and, with vitriol, blasts himself towards them. Now die! he yells, and blows nitroglycerin-fueled explosions to their face.

Over the course of their friendship/rivalry, Todoroki Shouto notices that Bakugou Katsuki gets tense whenever suicide comes up, as a topic in general. He notices that whenever someone walks past with bright, clunky red shoes, his eyes linger on them for just a little too long. And he, one day, finds a note addressed by Midoriya Izuku , but Bakugou Katsuki takes it before he can ever read it. Indignant, Katsuki says, some things I'd like to leave behind, asshole, but Midoriya Izuku never really leaves him.

Midoriya Izuku, by all means, is a character in the story. A real character, who serves one purpose: to haunt Bakugou Katsuki. To make him hesitate, to make him fear. To make him think: what would Izuku have done?

“Hahaha! Stupid Deku fell again,” a small child says, laughing and pointing at him. Mikumo, who feels smaller than he should, blinks up at a kid with stubby fingers and red eyes teasing him with several other kids with even stubbier fingers. “Get up, stupid Deku, or we'll totally leave you.”

“Um,” Mikumo says. His voice is softer than he remembers, and carries the high pitch of a prepubescent child. “Okay,” he replies, because he doesn't quite know what else to say. He picks himself up and dusts off the dirt and rocks on his shorts, pats his bruised up knees and winces at the bit of pain that gives him. He then stares at his little stubby knees, and then at his little stubby arms. “Hmmm,” he says, pinching his cheeks. “Ummmmm.”

“What is it this time, stupid Deku,” a stubby kid says, the one with the red eyes. “Don't tell me that you fell so hard you got frickin’ brain damage or some stupid crap.”

“Ummmm,” Mikumo replies. “No, I don't think so,” and the words are automatic, leaving his tongue as if they're supposed to be there, “Kacchan.”

Kacchan?

“Okay then,” Kacchan says, peering at him suspiciously for a second. “Okay! Then we're gonna keep goin’! Don't fall again or we'll leave you, dummy!”

“Dummy! Dummy!” The other kids call. Mikumo, who has been called way worse, feels confused when hot shame flushes his cheeks. He stumbles along with them because he's not sure what else to do. All of them are on a playground of some sorts, with those dangerous slides that get burning hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter, and monkey bars and a little play place with ladders and whatnot. At some point someone slaps him roughly and shouts, tag! And that makes the whole lot of them giggle in surprise and run off, laughing the whole way.

“Huhhh,” Mikumo says, wide eyed. He slaps his cheeks to see if he's dreaming. Kacchan is still beside him, and after a bit of Mikumo standing there uselessly, he offers a hand. Shamefully, with his head turned and his cheeks puffed and his mouth in a small frown, like giving Mikumo help makes his skin crawl with apprehension.

“Fine,” Kacchan says, like Mikumo said anything. “I'll help because I'm a hero. Come on.”

Mikumo doesn't know why his first instinct is to take Kacchan’s hand, but it is. Then Kacchan smiles a little evilly and shoots sparks from his hands and says, “Come on out, you little bastards!” while another kid gasps and says he'll tattle for swearing, and Mikumo's head connects a lot of dots, very quickly.

Bakugou Katsuki superfan fact number one: his childhood friend, Midoriya Izuku, used to call him Kacchan , and in return Katsuki called him Deku .

Bakugou Katsuki superfan fact number two: he generally looks the same in elementary and in high school.

Bakugou Katsuki superfan fact number three: Midoriya Izuku did not die until middle school.

“Kacchan,” Mikumo's tiny, tiny mouth asks, downturned. Strangely, even though Mikumo's eyes were completely dry when his father left the house, he feels like he might cry. He sniffles very loudly and says, “Kacchan, what's my name?”

“What?” Kacchan replies, pulling him along while also looking at him like he's the stupidest in the world. “Deku? Izuchan?”

“Izuchan?” Mikumo says. “Like, Midoriya Izuku?”

Kacchan looks concerned. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Did you hit your stupid frickin’ head harder than I thought?”

Mikumo's breath leaves his lungs in one big gust, and then there's no more air to keep him grounded while he feels like he might faint. He clutches his small, small shorts with his dumb, sticky potato fingers and tears roll down his cheeks, fat and wet. His lower lip scrunches up. “Kacchan,” Mikumo says, his voice cracking, ready to admit his terrible mistake to his greatest inspiration: “Kacchan, I think I'm Midoriya Izuku!”

“Um, yeah, stupid,” Bakugou Katsuki says. “Are we gonna find these idiots or what?”

The shounen-style light novel, My Hero Academia , was not good at first, and it certainly was never a popular series. More exciting things popped on Mikumo's feed, when he would navigate to it – stories about isekais and reincarnations and generally better written stories than the equivalent of a thirteen-year-old learning how to write for the first time. But Mikumo didn't like My Hero Academia for its well written story (although as the years went on, he grew to love the story) – he mostly liked it for the rival character, Bakugou Katsuki, whom he was taken with the moment he got past the slog of a four chapter introduction.

My Hero Academia, which takes place in a modern world with futuristic elements, where almost everyone in the world is born with a special superpower – a quirk. Todoroki Shouto, the protagonist, is the son of the number two hero, Endeavor, who abuses him daily to train him into a good enough hero to surpass the wall renowned All Might. But a twist comes, while Todoroki Shouto is in middle school – he stumbles across a crime scene and is spurred into action when none of the heroes on the scene seem to know what to do, prompting a strange spindly man named Toshinori Yagi to start talking with him.

Todoroki Shouto, who barely had friends or companions to rely on or indulge with, took the old man's company to heart and expressed his earnest wish to become a hero worth saving his poor mother. His mother, who was forced into a quirk marriage with his father – a scheme made by the rich to produce children with “good genes”. His father wore a fire quirk and his mother, an ice one, and he was the fourth unfortunate child to be born from their loveless marriage who took on both of their quirks on either side of his body. He said, to that man, that he never wants to use his right side, never wants to emulate his father's power.

In chapter 4 of My Hero Academia , the first bit of good storytelling, in Mikumo's opinion, comes from the response of Yagi. With a heavy arm on Shouto's shoulder, he proclaimed that Shouto would eventually fail at his goal. And then he revealed himself to be All Might, the shining pillar of justice in the My Hero Academia world – the very symbol of peace, made to be burly and muscular and always smiling. He was just there, in such a weak and feeble form, and he told Shouto that he'll never become a hero only using his right side.

Shouto cursed it. He treated that side like a parasite, a leeching villain, the very antithesis of what he wanted to be as a hero – he never sought the best , nor the greatest , but simply a hero that could proudly look at his mother and say, I did it. “All the time,” Yagi said, coughing blood into his arm, “heroes fight using all of their strength, and they still might die.” With a serious look, the number one hero told Shouto that with that attitude, he would never become a proper hero.

Shouto thought about it. He thought for two weeks, actually. And once he finally showed Yagi the bright, burning embers on his arm, the real plot of My Hero Academia finally came into play – One For All , Yagi's strength enhancement quirk, could actually be transferred from one person to another. Yagi, who had become old and a little decrepit, was searching for a successor – and found that, in Shouto, who dreamed of heroism.

“You can become a hero,” Yagi had said. It was a very quotable line. “And I want you to take my quirk and do it.”

A protagonist with daddy issues, mommy issues, and an already overpowered quirk getting another overpowered quirk that also held the responsibility of seven dead souls and a large, monstrous, manipulative bastard named All For One, and the misadventures of his journey going through U.A. high school for three years. Sporadic updates and hiatuses and all of that – Mikumo endured it all to see the end of the tale. To see what would happen to Todoroki Shouto's power. To see what would happen with his relationship with his father, who began to try and mend the broken pieces of his family. To see what would happen with Yaoyorozu Momo, whom he harbored feelings for.

And especially to see what happened to Bakugou Katsuki.

In the end; Todoroki Shouto becomes the number one hero (which, in the novel, he says multiple times that that's not even his goal). Bakugou Katsuki, who becomes number two (when he deserved number one, goddamn it) marries Uraraka Ochako and has five beautiful children (Katsuki having kids?! Unbelievable!). And no one dies at the end , not a single soul, not even those who exhausted their powers in the behemoth of a second-to-last chapter.

“It's all over,” Mikumo says, into his desk. “It's completely over… it's over for me…”

His laptop – should eight year olds even have laptops? – is pulled to a newspage. #1 HERO SPOTTED IN ITALY – SAY HI! A shaky picture of All Might is on the front cover, holding what looks like a comically small burger in his comically large hands, with the same beaming smile on his face.

His mother comes into his room. “Izuku,” she says, sweetly, “dinner's ready.”

“I'll go soon, mom,” Mikumo says, twisting his head to scroll down the newspage. All Might sightings have been at an all time low lately, the article says. His eyes feel dull as his dimly lit room contrasts with the bright white of his computer screen. Reflected in his pupils, he continues to read: could this be an omen of doom for the hero rankings? Aha… conspiracy theorists, even in this world, never change.

He bangs his head against the desk. “Fuck,” he mumbles. In a panic, he lifts his head quickly and types; number two hero.

Endeavor , the search engine says, the final nail in the coffin. Todoroki Enji, better known as Endeavor –

Mikumo would be happy. He really would.

His wish had been granted, in a sick, fucked up way. To reincarnate into the body of an eight year old character in his favorite shounen light novel – it means he could directly influence the ending of it. He literally knows Bakugou Katsuki , right now, in real life. He had touched his hand earlier today and it had reeked of burnt caramel. By all means, Mikumo should be jumping off of the walls, smiling widely, and doing other rituals that show he's about to have the time of his life.

But…

Why… did it have to be the most loser character in the novel? Midoriya Izuku works better left dead , in Mikumo's opinion, and he certainly won't let himself die in middle school, so – so where does that leave him ? What will Bakugou Katsuki do, without that precious memory of his old friend being bullied to the point of breaking?! Mikumo's been turned into an essential character, sure, but essential in the way that he's supposed to die before canon even happens!

He rolls around on the floor, kicking his legs in anger. He punches his pillow (because his mother is actually very sweet and he isn't used to it and he wouldn't want to break their stuff). He shakes his chair around but doesn't actually pick it up. He goes downstairs for dinner and plays around with his rice, feeling like if he eats anything at all he'll get too nauseous to speak.

“Izuku,” his mother says. “Are you… are you alright?”

“I'm fine, mom,” Mikumo mumbles.

“Oh, honey,” she replies, “I know… it's hard to play with all those – those kids because you…” and she looks sad and sympathetic, “but I always love you, okay? I always do.”

“Okay, mom,” Mikumo says, because for a brief moment he doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about, until he remembers the entire reason Midoriya Izuku died in the first place. That brings another wave of indignant, scorching anger to his system, and he resists the urge to slam his fist on the table or maybe roll around some more. Mikumo's read other novels, of course, he didn't just spend his time waiting on another chapter for My Hero Academia, he was a normal kid with a normal amount of free time.

He knows of those isekai novels where you get totally overpowered cheat skills and a harem full of girls, both of which he'd never been really interested in. But he's read them, he's read the transmigration novels. He's read the Reincarnated Into A God To Show My Love For My Sweetheart and everything. So why, why, why, why, why, why, why ?! Does he have the shittest luck on the planet or what?! In a world where everyone has a special power, something they were literally born with that shapes their personality, their style, their aesthetics –

Akatani Mikumo became the one fucking guy who doesn't have shit and then dies at the beginning !!!!

I'm going to kill myself , Mikumo thinks, as he shovels rice into his mouth. Wait, no , I'm not! The whole point is that I can't!!

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Stupid author! Stupid transmigration! I want my fucking life back!!!!

“How does Midoriya Izuku die, you ask,” Midoriya Izuku (otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo) says, in a bright flourish. His legs kick up on the spinning chair he got for his birthday, and his hands flip through pages upon pages of notes detailing every little detail he could remember about Midoriya Izuku's life and major plot points from canon, so that he wouldn't be taken off guard because of his lack of memory. Midoriya Izuku Preservation Notebooks are stacked high in a single cardboard box, up to number #9, which he holds. “Well, the gist of it is: after becoming bullied in middle school, he deigns that this life isn't worth living anymore or some stupid crap like that, and he throws himself off the roof.”

Ohoho, the evil little voice in his head says, but you won't let that happen, will you?

On Midoriya Izuku's computer, there are two files that stand out among the rest. A video file and a text file.

In it, a civilian trapped in rubble holds a shaky phone camera towards their savior, whose position in front of the sun makes him practically glow, bathed in starry light. His smile is almost as bright as that celestial object, and as comforting as it, too. Like just smiling is saying, you're safe now. It’s a short video, but the relief in the civilian's shaky arm movements is palpable. And All Might lifts his head while carrying two other injured people and he looks at the crowd of them and he says “I am here.”

The text file, which is titled I AM HERE.txt , is a bit scarier.

I'm going to be a hero , it says. Over and over and over and over and over. Mikumo would think they were all copy-pasted but some of the sentences are mistyped, and they all have different types of typos, like U'm going to be a hero or I'm goibg to be a heri. So the crux of the issue is probably adoring hero nerd Midoriya Izuku finally realizing that quirkless people will probably die when it comes to heroics, yeah? Yes, that must be it, especially with the two volumes of Hero Stuff For The Future , all written in clumsy pencil.

Midoriya Izuku (otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo) spins very quickly in his chair. “So I just have to endure it,” he says. “But, but… hey… aren't I literally a fortune-teller? Don't I know the best about what happens in this world – don't I understand it better than anyone else? So, would it not stand for me to help everyone else with this vast knowledge I've received? How will I let myself go on, knowing I've let Bakugou Katsuki get married to Uraraka Ochako without seeing it myself?”

Yes, that's another issue! If Midoriya Izuku dies, how will Mikumo experience his novel with his own two eyes?! Scratch that – how will Mikumo see anything at all if he doesn't make it into the same hero school that Todoroki Shouto willingly took the normal examination for (when he could have taken Endeavor's recommendation one instead)? How will Mikumo live with himself ?! If he doesn't get to see it all, won't he drop dead anyway?! And that would be especially useless, because he's supposed to die in middle school!

There would be no point! If he's stuck in this shitty body, shouldn't he make the most of it?

Scrawled in marker on a whiteboard: Midoriya Izuku Hero Plan.

Idea 1: Get All Might to give us his quirk. DENIED: wouldn't that alter the story a little too much? Then all of my notes would be totally useless. Plus, I'd rather not get caught up in that whole All For One plot – seems a little too stressful for my paygrade, no? And going from quirkless to having, like, seven quirks at once?! No fucking way!

Idea 2: Befriend Todoroki Shouto and force the world to let you in on account of the protagonist favoring you. DENIED: I’ve never been a social person and Todoroki Shouto isn't either which would lead to a lot of awkward mumbling. Also, not even sure if the world works that way.

Idea 3: Become a villain. STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS ONE.

Idea 4: Just suck it up and get into U.A. HOW???? Get a sword. I WANT A SWORD!!!

Idea 5: Get in kahoots with one of the teachers to train you. To become a hero. And then just get into U.A. DENIED: what teacher? Fucking Eraserhead? Vlad King? No fucking way! I'm still quirkless!

“Who knew it would be so hard to get into the top hero school of the country,” Mikumo groans. With hesitation, he adds Idea 6: Just get into like, Shiketsu or Eishu or something. Then he scribbles that out immediately with a NO WAY! If I can't see the main plot, then what's the point?!

“Mom,” Mikumo says, at dinner. “I want to learn how to use a sword.” The question makes him stifle a laugh – he knows how to use a shinai.

“Oh,” his mother says. Then, strangely, her eyes – light up? “Oh! Izuku, that could be wonderful. You need to get your weight up anyway, that's what your father would have said! And your mother used to take kendo classes when she was a young lady. That's how she met your father, you know,” and then she winks.

“That's terrible, mom,” Mikumo says, frowning. “I didn't need to know that at all.” Then, because he can't help but love his mother even though he didn't really grow up with her at all, they both laugh and laugh and laugh. She smiles.

“I'm glad you're branching out,” she says. “I was worried you'd stay cooped up in your room all the time. I can't have my little Izuku become a NEET.”

Idea 4: Get a sword, get a sword, get a sword, get a sword! If Mikumo could make one complaint about My Hero Academia that didn't involve the disgusting, terrible ending, then he'd shout from the rooftops that not enough characters used swords! Of course, it's a modern fantasy novel, and you don't see people carrying swords – it's not the Edo period, after all – but still! Still! They could've thrown in more sword characters, couldn't they?! It's a fantasy novel, goddamn it, even if it's modern! A character can use a sword! He'd even developed a character on his own spontaneously, an underground hero called Yamikumo , a guy whose  quirk allowed him to see future movements, and he used a sword because swords are fucking awesome!

Get a sword. Get a sword!! If he's quirkless, even if he's quirkless… does it matter if his sword is really sharp, and he knows how to use it? So he signs up for kendo classes, and the stern old instructor Ms. Nakamura Satsuko accuses him of cheating not once, twice, but three times. And Mikumo thinks maybe I do have an unfair advantage because he was not a part of the going home club while he was trekking his way through the slog of high school, and he loved the art of swordsmanship so much that, well, when he heard there was a kendo team at his school, what else was he supposed to do?!

“I'm not cheating,” Mikumo says, as he effortlessly counters his opponent with perfect stance and grip. “I'm just – well, I'm really good at kendo , ma'am,” and once that whole ordeal is over with, Ms. Nakamura practically begs him to stay at her studio, promising that she'll teach him all she knows. And Mikumo, tentatively and with hope in his eyes, says, “well, ma'am, I'd – I'd really like to learn with a real sword, if that's possible,” and that's how Mikumo starts learning what an actual katana feels like in his hands.

It's so cool that he can almost ignore his graduation into junior high and, subsequently, the worst years of his next life.

At first, Mikumo thought of Midoriya Izuku as a bit of a spineless coward. It's what Bakugou Katsuki had always said, after all – but in the solemn, regretful way that you might call your now-dead sister an annoying piece of shit, or your deceased best friend a nagging flea. Midoriya Izuku, quirkless, couldn't handle the pressure of bullying and jumped off of the roof. Mikumo has been bullied before – being an antisocial wreck with no friends, no parents, and only speaking in the art of kendo makes for a very easy to bully guy – but he's never once thought about killing himself, even when nothing else was to be gained from his life.

Bakugou Katsuki’s story not being completed, then, may have had an influence in his blind hope. He lived for no particular purpose, if only to see the finale of My Hero Academia.

Middle school makes it abundantly clear why Midoriya Izuku wanted to kill himself. Honestly, it makes the same emotions well up inside Akatani Mikumo, too – not some relic of Midoriya Izuku's emotions that he feels, sometimes, some forgotten echo that makes tears spring to his eyes in inappropriate situations – no, being berated by Bakugou Katsuki for being alive does, in fact, make him want to throw himself off of his balcony and hope to be reincarnated into someone cooler like Iida Tenya in his next life.

It's unexpected. It's out of left field. From every perspective, Bakugou Katsuki never seemed to participate in the bullying that killed Midoriya Izuku, no – he always spoke as if he were an observer, someone who watched but didn't tell, someone who took no action either way. Bakugou Katsuki made it seem like he was the type to ignore the harassment, because acknowledging it meant he might not get into U.A. And Bakugou Katsuki wanted to get into U.A. very, very badly – with his entire soul – so he looked away, and he closed his eyes, and he only opened them when he saw the still body of his childhood friend splattered on the concrete.

Akatani Mikumo forgave him. A lot of people did, because he held so much regret over his inability to do anything that he channeled all of it into saving hundreds upon thousands of people. And Akatani Mikumo thought that the ghost of Midoriya Izuku might have been proud of Katsuki, now, who doesn't run away from injustice but rather crudely punches it in the face with a mocking sneer.

Mikumo was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! If Midoriya Izuku forgave Bakugou Katsuki, it would have to be because Midoriya Izuku was in love with the guy or something! This isn't the passive onlooker behavior that Mikumo expected – Katsuki is in his face, popping off small explosions in his palm just to see the uncomfortable, squirming expression on Mikumo's face! “Please don't,” Mikumo mutters, and he closes his eyes as his head rings out because Katsuki slams him into the lockers again. The bits and bobs and knobs hurt. They always do.

“You givin’ me orders, Deku?” Katsuki says. “Hey, hey… I thought I told you… that you'll never become a hero, you worthless piece of shit… I'm gonna be the only motherfucker to go to U.A., alright…?”

“Um,” Mikumo says. His voice is very small, and that's not because he's trapped in Midoriya's body. He thinks of snarking back and saying something nasty, like in your dreams you piece of shit , but Bakugou Katsuki is still Bakugou Katsuki , so he nods very quickly. “Yes, sir,” he says, and gives a small mocking two-fingered salute, and he doesn't know why he does that because Katsuki just pops off more explosions that make him flinch.

“What are you two doing,” a teacher says, from down the hallway. Mikumo could pump his fist – an escape! Thank god. Katsuki unleashes him from his smoldering grip and Mikumo bows once to him, once to the teacher, and he yells “Nothing!” before skittering off. Katsuki yells after him but doesn't chase him, so Mikumo can comfortably reach the lunch room to sit alone in a corner.

A patented technique from his past life saves him during these times: he plugs a clunky pair of headphones into his phone, places them on his head, and then he pretends that he's talking to his mom when he's really listening to death metal. The hierarchy at school means no one touches Midoriya Izuku except Katsuki himself, which makes disgusted and confused emotions roll in his gut – what do you mean , the main person Midoriya Izuku jumped because of is Akatani Mikumo's savior? What do you mean, Katsuki did not just pretend not to see , he was the main culprit in the first place? Katsuki would never harass him in front of his mom, though.

What do you mean? Mikumo doesn't know what to do.

He is eight years old and he is reading My Hero Academia on his computer. The first time Todoroki Shouto meets Bakugou Katsuki, the rowdy teenager has his feet up on a desk and is being scolded by Iida Tenya for it. Bakugou Katsuki declares them rivals himself because Todoroki Shouto is Endeavor's son, and he delinquent marches back to his own desk. Mikumo had thought that Katsuki had a bad attitude – really, he kept thinking that, because Katsuki did.

He shouted. He spit insults at everyone he met. Even kind people, like Kirishima. He flipped the bird when it wasn't necessary and he didn't care about getting scolded, and Mikumo thought that Katsuki really needed some discipline or something. He never really liked Katsuki until Todoroki Shouto went against him in the Sports Festival. Using his left side was still a bruise on his heart, and he really tried to win only using his right – his father was watching, and he wanted to prove something petty to him, something insignificantly petty: I can do this without you. But Katsuki, in a firework of nitroglycerin, screamed at the top of his lungs:

Why the fuck do you keep looking at Endeavor?! I'm your fucking opponent, asshole!

Almost killing each other in the Sports Festival, they got along pretty well after that. Mikumo loved him – he loved Katsuki’s fearlessness, his unending will to be above everyone else, his determination to be the best. Unlike stupid mob delinquent characters, Katsuki didn't hound people with empty threats – he was the threat, with his smoking palms, popping off explosions. He was cunning and he was a little bit crazy and he wanted to help people , not just be the greatest. But he wanted to be the greatest, too, and that's why – that's why…

One day, when they were eleven – and he means living as Midoriya Izuku – Katsuki just stopped talking to him out of nowhere, and then Midoriya Izuku (otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo) was alone. Mikumo had been alone for as long as he could remember, but he had no novel to run back on, nothing to turn to, so he threw himself into his swordsmanship lessons with Ms. Nakamura and pretended that Katsuki leaving him didn't sting. He should have expected it – Katsuki was complacent in his eventual suicide, after all! No way he'd stick around Mikumo forever!

And then they got into the same middle school and Katsuki acted like Mikumo followed him there, like he was an unyielding parasite, and then he apparently thought that making Mikumo's life a hell of fireworks was the most efficient way of getting rid of him. Wiping his hands of the embarrassing kid he used to play with. Burning the bridge and then blowing it up, too.

Mikumo is this: a loner, a nerd, and a coward. When things are difficult, he runs away. When things are stressful, he goes to kendo. When things are too much, he hangs out by himself. Bakugou Katsuki is none of that – Katsuki is everything Mikumo wished he were. Someone confident and brave. Someone unafraid. Someone who could look at the world, sneer, and lift the middle finger. Someone who could declare he was the best, and mean it wholeheartedly – someone who never said empty words.

“You seem stressed recently,” Ms. Nakamura says, in that scolding tone of hers, pressing a cold water bottle into his forehead. Mikumo takes it gratefully, gulps it down and inhales a big gust of air. His arm hurts, but not because of the lesson – Katsuki left a burn mark right there, probably by accident, because he got too angry at Mikumo. “What is the problem?”

“Nothing,” Mikumo says, because Mikumo is also a liar. “Nothing's wrong at all. I want to go over iaido again.”

Ms. Nakamura looks at him suspiciously. Mikumo grins at her and stands up again. In his final year of middle school, on the forms for what high school he'd like to go to, he writes U.A. High School in large, determined script. He hands it in with the confidence that he imagines Bakugou Katsuki would have, chin up and arm only slightly trembling. He goes back to his mother and he says, “I'm applying for U.A. and you can't stop me,” and she cries a little bit, but Mikumo storms up to his room and begins to fill out the online application.

“Oh, hmmm… Midoriya also said he wanted to go to U.A., huh?”

All eyes turn to him, and he sinks further into his seat. If he were Katsuki, he might have clicked his tongue loudly, crossed his feet on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and cocked a questioning eye to the teacher, as if to ask, what about it ? Because Akatani Mikumo is not Bakugou Katsuki no matter how much he wants to be, the entire classroom just becomes dead silence, with everyone's heads slowly turning as if to question the ridiculousness of that statement.

I know iaijutsu, he thinks, and kendo, and some sort of Nakamura kenjutsu that she’s teaching me. I'm a Japanese martial arts master. I can draw a blade faster than these people can turn to look at me. Mikumo is a coward and a liar who tells the kids at Nakamura's dojo to call him Kensei , so he plants his forehead on his desk and looks down at his twiddling thumbs, waiting in anticipation. He wishes he didn't have so many classes with the boy he likes, really. Pahaha, that makes him sound like a pathetic schoolgirl crushing on him. It makes him sound like Ochako! “De-eku,” Katsuki says, and his voice is hoarse and angry.

“The fuck do you think you're pulling,” he yells. “I told you, shitty nerd, I'm the only one who goes to U.A.! If you don't die in the practicals then I'll kill you myself if you even dare lay foot on that campus, you hear me?! I'll kill you!!” At every explosion, Mikumo involuntarily flinches. He tries thinking of how to improve his iai-goshi posture to calm himself down. He thinks of his katana, which he definitely should not be allowed to have, nestled comfortably in his closet, sheathed and pure. Funnily enough, he thinks of fighting Katsuki with it, and he can't even picture it at all – Katsuki would blow him up instantly.

Mikumo shouldn't go to U.A. He knows that. U.A. is for hero wannabes, not people like him who are only going to see the real heroes in action, to watch as Todoroki Shouto's narrative unfolds in real time. He's attempting to take that always vacant seat in Class 1-A or maybe Class 1-B just because he wants to see . Because he's practiced with kendo for years and then practiced with actual swordsmanship for years, too, all of it in one big blur of being pushed down and getting back up because Bakugou Katsuki wouldn't give up on a katana just because he can't counter Ms. Nakamura's swing.

“Sorry, Ka – Kacchan,” Mikumo mumbles. The teacher, thankfully, uses that moment of silence to calm everyone down, to tell Katsuki to get back to his seat. Mikumo knows it isn't over, though, and his quickly beating heart serves to distract him from the entire speech of choosing the right high school and careers and whatnot until the bell rings and all of the kids file out of the class. Mikumo spaces out until he hears it, and even then he barely wants to get up, because maybe if he keeps sitting like a turtle waiting to get run over then Katsuki will just rough him up a little in anger before scurrying off.

Of course, he's wrong. He tries to put his notes in his bag, but Katsuki swipes them out of his hand. “What's this? Math homework?” he sneers, and he flips through it. It is math homework, actually, and he looks completely unamused and a little confused, like he was expecting something else…? But then the sneer is back, and he waves it in Mikumo’s face. “Hey, what's the deal? Didn't I tell you to give up already? Without a stupid quirk, you're basically useless to the world. How about you become a fuckin’ bum on the street instead of a hero?”

“Stop it,” Mikumo says. He wants to scream. He feels as rightfully angry as he did all those years ago when he smashed his phone in an underpass. “Give it back. I need to turn that in tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki laughs, and some other boys laugh too from the doorway, and Katsuki – well, he blows the whole thing up in his hand. Mikumo reaches for it with tearful eyes and Katsuki's explosion makes him violently flinch back, and when he opens his eyes his math homework, which is due tomorrow , is smoking up and burning. “Aw, shit,” he says, grinning meanly, and he saunters over to the open window. “Gotta put this fire out,” he shrugs, and he tosses the notebook into the koi pond.

Mikumo hears it drop.

“Hey, Deku. Listen up,” Katsuki says, while leaving with his hands in his pockets. “Just take a swan dive off the roof and hope for a quirk in your next life. Maybe then you can be a hero!”

Mikumo feels his heart drop, too.

Ah, he says. Foreign emotions claw at his heart, wrapping around him and choking him a bit with their intensity. A boy, long dead, screams at him to do something – to jump off of the roof, to stab himself in his room, to do something, something, something. It hurts, at first, but then it’s just – it's sad.

Midoriya Izuku wants to kill himself, in this moment. In this moment. In this moment, Akatani Mikumo is supposed to listlessly walk up to the school roof, violating the rules, and he's supposed to jump off of it. And at the very last moment he's supposed to regret it and think, no, I want to live, I want to be a hero, but then he is supposed to die all pathetically there, covered in his own blood. Mikumo used to think Midoriya Izuku was a coward, but he hasn't really thought that in a while, now. Actually, isn't Midoriya Izuku a stronger person than him? Mikumo's a coward who likes to run from things rather than face them head-on, unlike Bakugou Katsuki. Mikumo would rather stay quiet and deal with it forever than end it early.

Isn't Midoriya Izuku a stronger person…?

“Katsuki,” Mikumo says. He doesn't know when he got up, bookbag slung over his back, but suddenly he's shoving past Katsuki in the doorway. His voice is filled with venom-laced hatred. “I'm going to become a hero, whether you like it or not.”

Katsuki, stunned, stares at him. Mikumo stares back, for a moment. And then he grins brilliantly, like All Might does, and he says, “and stop calling me Deku! It's Kensei-san, Kacchan!”

Explosions pop in Katsuki's hand and Mikumo takes the hint to run as fast as he can with a two fingered salute behind him.

“Stupid Katsuki, am I right,” Mikumo says, to the dark clawing that circles his hand like a phantom. Nothing is there, but he can feel it – the mangled hand of the body he possesses screams at him. “If he says stuff like that, I might actually kill myself, and then he might regret it his entire life…”

He laughs.

He really does. He laughs so hard that it hurts while he fishes up his notebook from the koi pond. It's ruined beyond repair – Mikumo won't be able to fix it at all, and the math homework wasn't that bad, so he shrugs and chucks it into the nearest bin. “I know all of this stuff anyway,” he says, gleefully. “So whatever. Whatever! Katana time, katana time, lalala…”

He keeps walking. The dread that ices his heart over slips off the further he gets from the school. He turns around at the very entrance and does a two-fingered salute: “I'll become a hero for you, benefactor.”

Midoriya Izuku is Bakugou Katsuki's childhood friend. Before the events of the novel, Midoriya Izuku kills himself on the pavement of their middle school, scarring Bakugou Katsuki for life. While Katsuki never admitted to being a part of the harassment that killed Midoriya Izuku, it's clear as day: he was. That scoundrel was the main part, digging a grave for Midoriya Izuku and then becoming shocked when the boy fell willingly into it. You can only beat someone down so many times until they can't get back up anymore.

Midoriya Izuku, who had only been appreciated by his mom, only did what the narrative told him to.

I'll save you, Midoriya Izuku , Akatani Mikumo thinks. I’ll definitely, definitely live that wish for you. So have some faith in me, okay?

Akatani Mikumo wants to be a hero.

And then Akatani Mikumo, because the world hates him and never wants to see him happy, almost dies during that same thought. In an underpass, which is frighteningly ironic, he kicks a littered soda bottle and thinks about every reevaluation he needs to do of Midoriya Izuku – namely, the one where all his character became was a pillar for Bakugou Katsuki to step on – and then a voice echoes from somewhere , and he stops mid-walk with his leg in the air to tip his head back. “Um, hello,” he says – and his voice is a bit raspy, but he feels better talking to anyone who isn't Katsuki – "who's there?”

He’s an idiot. “I guess you’ll do,” the voice says, and it is also raspy but also a bit… gurgly ? And all of this is unimportant, because Mikumo's arm (which had just been squeezed tightly by the poltergeist of a dead 13 year old boy) suddenly has the gross sensation of slime on it, and that slime coils around his shoulder and then his legs and then his other arm, and the only stupid things Mikumo can think are I should've brought my katana to school and this is, at least, less embarrassing than getting run over by a car. His thoughts begin to cease, replaced by fuzzy white noise, and the thing above him is laughing in a disgusting warbled tone and he claws and claws and claws away at the slime stuffing his mouth but – but.

He can't do anything.

Years of sword fighting. Years of preparation. Years of thinking, I've been dealt a bad hand, but as long as I stay determined like Katsuki would, I can make it through this. It's all over, now. His will to fight drains out of his ears slowly like molasses, and his arms fall limp, and he… he just made a big stink about how he'd live in Midoriya's steed, didn't he? And now he's going to die at the hands of probably a two-bit villain looking for a bodysuit…

Hey , he thinks, isn't a villain like this the one Todoroki Shouto met All Might at…?

Haha. Maybe, he thinks, as he loses consciousness, he'll get to see All Might in real life, at least once…

…

Izuku! Mikumo thinks, and then he coughs and pukes up slime. Green sludge runs down his face and trails from his mouth and sinuses. His head hurts so badly that he thinks he's hallucinating the masculine voice asking after him, patting his back and rubbing it soothingly as he hacks up every saliva-covered glob of slime from his throat. It feels like he just drowned but instead of in water it was in fucking wet concrete or something… and, ugh, oh my god, it absolutely stinks here too… and…

Oh my god, he's not hallucinating. He turns over from where he's bent on his knees and sees fucking All Might, with an impossibly large smile that calms him down instinctively and an impossibly large hand patting his back so he doesn't feel, like, lonely while he throws up slime everywhere. Oh my god. “Oh my god,” he says, out loud, and he thinks that his heart rate increasing might be more Izuku than him because, well, oh my god. Oh my god! “Fucking All Might ,” Mikumo says. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry for what ?” Fucking All Might says above him. Fuckimg All Might! His shocked expression morphs into childish glee, and he hurriedly begins to take out his notebooks, but All Might looks increasingly queasy as he tries to fish for one that doesn't, er, spoil the entire plot of this world. For Izuku, he thinks. For Izuku, I'll definitely get an autograph!! But he's equally as charmed by All Might's grandeur – reading about how brilliant a man is is nothing compared to the warm glow of being saved by him. The underpass is dark and the day is still bright – the sun, behind him, creates a halo of light bathing All Might's form. From here, Mikumo can see why he's the number one hero – who would doubt him?! “Er, my boy, I… you're alright, yes? I really must be going!”

Huh? Wait, wait wait wait. Mikumo shakily stands up. “Hold on,” he says, with a pitiful cough, but All Might raises a hand and looks shiftily left and right. He says that he's already called the police and they’ll be here in a minute but he really must turn this criminal in, and then he slaps the soda bottle filled with green goo in his hands and laughs tightly. And he turns around to leave. To leave?! To leave?! The first autograph Mikumo gets in honor of the biggest hero nerd ever, Izuku, and All Might is going to leave?! All Might is probably Izuku's favorite!

It's a shame, how little he thinks sometimes, but all he thinks is Katsuki wouldn't let something like this pass him up without fighting a little harder , so when All Might crounches and blasts off, Mikumo hooks himself on to All Might's leg, and proceeds to have the worst trip of his fucking life.

Akatani Mikumo has read a novel with the same premise of his literal existence. After reading a large, well-built novel with a mediocre ending, a man dies in his apartment and is transmigrated into the world he just cursed. It’s a martial arts world set in the Edo period with plenty of heartbreak and violence and whatnot, and the protagonist is turned into the villain of the story. Citing that he'll unfuck his life, he sets out to undo the damages his old self already caused, and therefore recreates the story anew. But in that novel… in that novel, Mikumo thinks bitterly, he had help . A system, with stat points and currency he could use to buy upgrades for himself. It's not like him at all, who had to work for everything he has now.

That protagonist probably would have bought the ability to use a sword and settled it at that. Akatani Mikumo, who has loved swords for his entire life, put in the work. That protagonist has a system telling him how the story should go and how he would affect it. Akatani Mikumo doesn't, so it's unfortunate that in the spur of the moment, he forgets about All Might's time limit – and then All Might is Toshinori Yagi and sheesh, he looks like a mess, all gangly limbs and skeletal features. His sunken blue eyes look downright horrifying, and he sits Mikumo down and explains the truth about his appearance for, apparently, no reason. Mikumo pretends to be interested, but he knows all of it – all of the disgusting details behind the fight, All For One, his mentor…

“You won't tell this to anyone, will you?” Toshinori says. Mikumo shakes his head so hard he thinks he'll have an aneurism. Then Toshinori is done and he's about to become buff again and Mikumo gasps and tells him to wait and he finally finally pulls out a blank-ish notebook and opens it to the very second page.

“Can I please have your autograph,” he heaves, in one breath. Toshinori looks surprised.

“You grabbed on to my leg and endangered your life for an autograph?” he says, with a smile. Mikumo scratches his neck and thinks about what Izuku would have done, and thinks I don't know because the only reference he has for Izuku is his ghost of a room that Mikumo's already replaced. Sorry, Izuku.

“I'm a dedicated fan,” Mikumo laughs. Toshinori, with a big blocky sharpie, writes a two-page autograph into his composition notebook, and Mikumo nearly jumps with glee. And then Toshinori actually leaves and Mikumo doesn't feel the need to yank his ankle again, so he watches the man go with admiration in his eyes.

…

And then realization hits.

No. Ohhh, no. He's gotten more involved than he wanted. Akatani Mikumo, by all means, is supposed to be a side character in Todoroki Shouto's life, but if he goes to U.A. – where, inevitably, All Might will teach – then he'll know All Might's secret , and then Todoroki Shouto might want to be buddy-buddy with him (unlikely, but still). Plus, doesn't this raise his chances of being All Might's successor?! No, no, it's okay. As long as he doesn't let it get to his head, and as long as he doesn't perform any reckless yet valiant deeds, then he'll be fine. He'll be fine! He calms down and realizes that the building he's on is very tall, and he thinks that he might puke if he ever sees a tall building from this point of view again, so he scales the fire stairs down, down, down.

It's okay. It's okay! He's still a side character. Really, his relationship as a stepping stone for Bakugou Katsuki's greatness is still being realized, just in a – a less dead way. And we like being not dead, so it's alright. He crosses the road, realizes he has no idea where he is, and then he hears a large explosion from a few streets away that makes him flinch so bad that he nearly drops his phone. He swipes away from the navigational app and pulls up the villain tracker, and about three blocks away is an attack that shakes the foundations of the road from where he's standing. So obviously he goes, and he swears that it's only just to see, and he won't do anything because he's really not that type of person.

And Bakugou Katsuki is trapped in slime.

Akatani Mikumo does not have help! He doesn't have a status window, or a level screen, or anything like that! No statistics to track his progress on, no quest lines to follow, absolutely nothing! He only has his own life, which is filled with nothing but cowardice and swordplay! His hands tremble, and he looks to his left and Toshinori Yagi is there with a shocked expression, and then he looks at the scene and the heroes are hesitating because they can't do anything without hurting Bakugou Katsuki, and he looks everywhere and he doesn't know what to do but he can't let Bakugou Katsuki die here, then the novel ends and he might as well kill himself, really –

He looks to his right. In the crowd, with two-toned hair, he sees one Todoroki Shouto. His eyes are wide and fierce and scared, and he's clutching his left side with animalistic rage. And suddenly, Akatani Mikumo is calm again. He didn't have help, but this happened anyway – he must have made All Might drop the bottle in mid-air. Bakugou Katsuki won't die. In this moment, Todoroki Shouto will do what he's supposed to do – which is throw a sharp piece of ice at the slime villain's eye – and Toshinori Yagi will acknowledge him, and then they will talk and then he will become the successor of One For All.

It's all okay. It's all how it's supposed to be.

He looks at Bakugou Katsuki. Then he sees Todoroki Shouto, his hand beginning to form ice. Katsuki's eyes are scared. It's such a new look on him that Akatani Mikumo laughs, only a little, and Bakugou Katsuki must see it because his eyes only get a little more scared and a little more angry. And Mikumo realizes he doesn't belong in this scene, reserved for Todoroki Shouto and Toshinori Yagi, so he swims out of the crowd and waves goodbye to Bakugou Katsuki and begins to run home as the sound of the slime villain's screams fill the air.

Mikumo may be a coward, but physically he's not weak at all. The only reason he lets Katsuki throw him around is because Katsuki is much, much more powerful than him, and – it's a bit like a gun, where you can build you body up as much as you want but as long as you're human, an explosion to the side will still burn as much as it would if you were 80 pounds, or 300 pounds. You could shoot any man in the head and as long as it struck his brain he'd probably drop the fuck dead, even if he were the most deadly samurai in the world. All of his swordsmanship doesn't allow him to waste away in his room, as much as he wants to.

That's half the reason he took kendo when he really was Akatani Mikumo. To get out of the house. Swords had always been cool to him, but he certainly couldn't learn to fight with real ones at the high school he attended, so brutal combat with shinai worked just as well for forcing him to sweat a lot and eat a lot and run laps around the neighborhood because if he didn't have enough stamina then the match would be over before it could begin. So no, Mikumo is not physically weak, but he's not the strongest looking – he doesn't have an eight-pack or anything, he doesn't look stupidly buff. He could probably win a fight if he tried very hard and had a shinai with him. Or something like that. A crowbar could work?

It doesn't make him any less nervous for physical examinations to U.A. The written also scares the fuck out of him – during the weeks leading up to the exam he cram studies heroic foundations and all of the stuff that he didn't really have in his world – he has to learn laws surrounding property damage and casualties and the recommended reading is a hero philosophy book way too thick about the balancing act of heroes and villains and it's so much fucking work , to worry about regular school and hero school and working out for hero school. He increases the intensity of his run and he starts doing, honest to god, push-ups at home, and it makes him sweat and he hates it because the adrenaline that comes with beating the shit out of someone with shinai doesn't come when he's pushing his body into the air.

“Fu-uck,” he bemoans, laying on the floor. He's so sweaty that if he tries hard enough he can imagine a giant pool of sweat beneath him. “This shit is brutal, fuck, fuck… how do bodybuilders do this shit every day?” His arms ache, and his legs ache, and everything aches, but he goes down again and pushes himself up again and weakly says, “46!”

“Honey, don't curse,” his mother says, opening the door. He startles and meekly apologizes, and then thanks her because she's brought meat over rice and an energy drink. “Oh, look at my sweet boy. I remember when you were 10, talking about how you wanted to fight with swords… now you're going to be slashing villains with them! Oh my! Don't get too excited and forget about your mother, okay?”

“Urgugh,” Mikumo answers, laying the cold energy drink (god bless Midoriya Inko) over his head. “I won't… forget you… mom,” he mumbles. He pats her ankle with his sticky, sweaty hand. “I'll… mail you a letter… every five months…”

“My terrible son, ahh, what will I do with you,” she tuts, teasing. “Remember to eat and get lots of rest, okay?”

“Yes, mom,” and from the floor he gives her a small two-fingered salute, and she beams at him and closes the door.

“Have you been going to the gym, Midoriya,” Hina from kendo practice asks him. Her hydrokinesis quirk sprays a mist of water over him as he pants, exhausted and sweaty but still victorious in their match. She's laying beside him, really mostly spraying on herself so Mikumo has to squirm closer to get the cold water on his face. “You seem more tired recently.”

“Oh, ummmm,” Mikumo says. “Not the gym, but… I'm applying for U.A.”

Hina, who probably knows he's quirkless given how he's never once explained his quirk to anyone in the classroom, purses her lips and then nods. “Midoriya is the best kendōka in our age group,” she says, and then her hand moves and he blissfully drowns in the pleasure of freezing cold mist on his hot, sweaty, flushed face, “so he will definitely get into U.A.! Become a great hero. Then, when you are at the awards ceremony for your number one hero award, say, ‘Yes, Oowada Hina was my best friend in kendo, and I owe it all to her, yes.’”

“No way,” Mikumo heaves. “You've never won a single match against me. I… fight bugs stronger than you – ahhh , Hinachan, you know I'm joking, come on…”

Hina moves the water back to her and then turns around so it all hits her face and none of Mikumo's. “Booooo,” she says, teasing. “Kensei is the worst hero.”

Contrary to what he thought would happen – which is examinations coming too quickly, so that he isn't prepared at all – the exams come so slowly that he feels like he's going insane. For Izuku, he chants, as he forces his body to keep running along the sidewalk, death metal screaming in his ears. For Izuku, he chants, as he tests if he can lift the living room couch and finds he can do it with only a little bit of strain in his arms. For Izuku, he chants, as he unsheathes the katana that Ms. Nakamura bestowed upon him. He submits it for support gear in his physical examination and he gets an approval, which quells some of his worries but not all.

“What if I fail the written portion but not the physical,” he mumbles. “What if I fail the physical portion but not the written,” he mutters. His mom taps another energy drink on his head and he takes it gratefully and chugs it all before he begins his squats again. “Mom, what if –”

“What if you got in,” his mom says, and she kisses his sweaty forehead. “I – Izuku, I know I… in the past, I wasn't the most supportive of your dreams. But – but you've proven me wrong, haven't you? My baby's the best kendōka in his age group!”

“Ahhh, mom, you embarrass me, ahhh,” Mikumo says, squatting. “What will my hero name be? Kenshi, Sword Hero? No, kengo? Kensei? ”

“So official already,” his mom says, and she pinches his sweaty gross cheek. “I believe in you, baby. You'll make it in. And if you don't? You can go to Shiketsu!”

…

He wants to say, I don't want to go to Shiketsu. He wants to think , I don't want to go to Shiketsu. Because he needs to be at U.A. because he knows everything that will happen, all catalogued in his brain for years and years, millions of words about My Hero Academia. He needs to see Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto and all the rest of the cast, and he…

…

But if it's for Izuku…

If it's for Izuku , he thinks, then it doesn't matter where I go. I want to be a hero.

“Fuuuuck,” Mikumo says. “All of my bones hurt everywhere, Ms. Nakamura. Take pity on your best student.”

“You aren't my best student,” Ms. Nakamura lies, and she helps him back up. And Hina helps him back up. And his mother helps him back up. And he looks at the pavement of his middle school, the one where he can still see words that bled from one page to another, and he raises his hand.

He gives the pavement a two-fingered salute. “Do you see me, Midoriya Izuku? I'm going to become a hero.”

But all the hyping up in the world is moot when the days roll by and his nervousness reaches peaks it never has before, and then suddenly he's hugging his mom and his mom is crying and talking about how proud she is of him, and he texts Ms. Nakamura to say that he's on his way to U.A. and she gives him a thumbs up in reply, and then he's standing… at the front gates… of the academia.  

Is the glee in his heart from him or from the phantom of Midoriya Izuku, or is it both? His skin is flushed, his muscles don't feel sore (his mother made him take a break two days before the exam so he'd be in perfect condition), he's done his stretches and his katana is strapped to his back in a cool black sheath. He can't see Katsuki anywhere – but that's normal for him, now, because ever since the slime villain incident happened, Katsuki's been laying it on a little less. He hasn't even burned Mikumo once – the most recent event was a harsh shove in the hallway a few weeks ago. He must be too focused to care about Mikumo, now – of course, Mikumo is infinitely grateful. Thank you, U.A.!!!

U.A. is so large. It's so large. And he thinks, if everything goes right, I study here.

His eyes are wet. Funnily enough, Izuku's not the one doing that. I'm going to study here , he thinks, next to Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako! Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijirou…!

I'm going to study here!

He takes a step and trips on an uneven bit of pavement. Ah, I'm going to die. Goodbye, cruel world. Sorry, Izuchan. I'll never fulfill your wish. It's over for me. Ah, goodbye… and, of course, he does not fall. Wait, of course? He opens his tightly shut eyes and sees the pavement staring back at him, and then suddenly he's being pulled by the back of his shirt. “It would be bad luck to eat pavement on exam day,” a girl says. He turns to her, and his breath almost stops working. Say it isn't so, world! Say it isn't so!!

“Um, thank you,” Mikumo says. Dying of embarrassment is secondary. “I'm Midoriya Izuku!”

“Oh! I'm Uraraka Ochako,” the girl replies, and smiles at him. Ah! “Let's see each other at U.A., okay?” she gives him corny finger guns before she skips her way into the building, bracelet bouncing on her wrist. Ah, ah, ah!!! I've already met her!!! 

The coolest girl character in the novel!!! Uraraka Ochako!!!!!!

Uraraka Ochako, in My Hero Academia , used to be the classic bumbling heroine with feelings for the protagonist that later extended to the protagonist's rival. A fearsome love triangle. Mikumo wasn't as interested in her as he was Bakugou Katsuki, but then – then, after the author took a hiatus for a year to recollect their thoughts, and figure out what story he wanted to tell – then? she became a badass. An internship with Gunhead taught her her awesome G.M.A moves, which she used to utterly destroy her competition! She turned into a two-dimensional side character to the coolest girl ever in only a few chapters! Not just her fighting, but she seemed to mature as well, no longer seeking to date neither Todoroki Shouto nor Bakugou Katsuki – she wanted to improve herself and become a hero before she thought about dating, yet still harbored feelings for Katsuki…!

Uraraka Ochako , Mikumo thinks, you're so cool!!!!

He adjusts his holster. Shakes his head. Slaps his cheeks. Get over yourself, Mikumo! You're acting like any typical novel nerd! If you're going to be training with these people for the next three years, you've got to stop acting like this every time you see one! And then he looks to his left, sees Mina Ashido looking nervously among the crowd, and he's so excited he almost eats concrete again.

And then after a bunch of procedures and checking in and bringing in papers and assuring yes, the giant sword on my back is for me and I'm not going to kill people oh my god, they're finally seated for the practicals. The practicals aren't held on the same day as the written exam because that would be insane, could you imagine fighting for your life and then having to write a four page paper – or even worse, writing a four page paper before having to fight for your life?! The hero nerd named Izuku makes his heart light up and quicken when Present Mic strolls into the room with a booming voice and an oh yeah! He asks for the crowd to respond. Mikumo almost wants to, but he remembers that no one does, so he does not.

Three types of robots to kill. Each gives either one, two, or three points. Destructive quirks go wild in these types of settings. Todoroki Shouto absolutely crushed this part with no effort at all, not until the famed 0-pointer came and almost killed Ochako. Mikumo trembles in anticipation, thumb moving against his teeth, and then Iida Tenya himself points to him while he's generally spacing out and he says, “are you even taking this seriously?!” and Mikumo is so taken aback by it even though he should've expected it that he just stares at Iida Tenya oh my god Iida Tenya until the boy sits down again, clearly disgruntled. Ahhh, bad impressions, bad impressions…

Bad impressions, Mikumo squacks in his head, as he unsheathes his sword at the entrance to the battleground. No Katsuki in sight. Todoroki Shouto to his left, Uraraka Ochako on his front, Iida Tenya behind him. Surrounded by his favorite characters – the characters who he had lived by, for years and years – he can't help but grin madly. And he knows what comes next – the doors open and everyone becomes confused for a split second, and it's enough time for Mikumo to rush in and slash the head off of a Victory bot. Then everyone is clamoring in after him, rushing after the bigger ones, and the wind is in his hair and his sword is in his hand, and when he cuts the vulnerable part of an Imperial off before jabbing his sword into a Venator, he feels good.

Akatani Mikumo has always felt better with a sword.

When he was four years old, watching samurai anime on television, watching people clash with their animated blades. Sparks flying, special effects. When he was eight years old and waiting for a new update to his favorite novel, he would look up professional sword fighting matches and watch as skilled swordsmen scraped their sharp, metal blades against each other, each body protected with armor. He looked up techniques online, practiced with any long object he could find – usually the broomstick that he'd taken the actual broom off of – and then when he enrolled in high school and decided not to waste away in the going home club again, he signed up for kendo.

In bulky armor, he struck his opponent. In his hands, he imagined that the shinai was really a katana, curved and sharp and lethal, and that he was not a high school boy but a samurai slicing through his opponents. He imagined he was Bakugou Katsuki, and his sword was the palms of nitroglycerin, and within the bōgu the only person to assess him properly was himself. So he assessed himself and he proclaimed his name, Akatani Mikumo, and he channeled the hateful, spiteful drive of Bakugou Katsuki, and he was the best goddamn kendōka the club had ever seen – up until he died, of course, withering away on the side of the road. Worst day of his life.

15 points. He wonders, distantly, if his body was ever found out there. It's a thought he's had often, when Bakugou Katsuki was so far from the Bakugou Katsuki he wanted to see him as. Has someone found me? Bled out dry, hair probably covered in crimson? Has someone seen my smashed phone? Has someone gotten justice for me, did they see the license plate of the perpetrator on a hidden security camera? Did his mother throw a funeral for him, despite wanting nothing to do with him, or did she breathe a sigh of relief when she heard the news?

30 points. Mikumo can't imagine his own mother crying. He can barely see her face, anymore – when he thinks of his mom, he thinks of Midoriya Inko, all kind smiles and comforting hugs and everything he wished his mom was. 32 points. The ground rumbles beneath him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Akatani Mikumo has a plan, goddamn it – all he has to do is be there when Uraraka Ochako almost dies. The 0-pointer starts to destroy buildings, kids start to scramble away, and Mikumo doesn't look at any of them except the boy with two-toned hair.

He grabs his hand. “Excuse me!”

“What,” says the protagonist, Todoroki Shouto, who is more handsome than Mikumo could've imagined – than the author put into words, really. Mikumo holds his breath for a millisecond and swings his sword behind him, pointing to the area where the 0-pointer will soon ravage – and the protagonist's eyes widen at the sight of Uraraka Ochako, trapped in the rubble, crying.

“I saw you fight,” Mikumo says. It's not a lie, but it feels like it. He presses on. “I need you to – to stop that thing. I can get her out, but I need you to – hurry!” Then he bolts, dashes towards the 0-pointer, and his shoulders sag in relief when he hears hurried footsteps behind him. Yes, this is his plan, that he had read about constantly (because he remembers the beginning of the novel better than anyone) – at this moment, Todoroki Shouto uses his ice to freeze the 0-pointer in its tracks, and Mikumo leverages off of that to knock the debris off of Ochako and offer her a hand. She gratefully takes it and Mikumo swings her up to carry her bridal style. Her head slightly rolls and her face turns green, but Mikumo just keeps running, thinking about how fucking cool Todoroki Shouto is.

So cool. The world is frozen; it's colder, now, and Mikumo keeps running until the bells chime that the exam is over, and then he keeps running because he knows Ochako will be okay but he still – can't let her go, he can't let her just…

God, no, that's just Izuku's hero complex. He skids to a half when Recovery Girl shuffles to him, and then it hits him all at once: he did that flawlessly. He still ran away, but that wasn't because he was scared – he had to save someone.

Mikumo is still a bit of a coward. But he has enough rescue points, presumably, to get into U.A. “Lay her down, sonny,” Recovery Girl says, and he does, and then she gives Ochako a kiss (gross) and him a kiss (even grosser – oh, wait, apparently he had sprained his ankle and hadn't even realized until now, wow that feels so much better), and she shuffles over to Todoroki Shouto, who is apparently behind them, and she gives him a kiss too. “You all did well,” she says, smiling. “I hope I'll see you in U.A.”

“Ahh, me too, Recovery Girl,” Mikumo says, because he's tired and when he's tired he won't stop talking, “ahh, Ms. Recovery Girl, when I get into U.A. I'll get your autograph for sure…”

Recovery Girl does this sort of sideways smile at him. “Ahhh,” Mikumo says, and he picks himself up. Ochako is already getting hauled off. Todoroki Shouto is still behind him, and briefly, Mikumo entertains the idea of falling into Todoroki Shouto's arms. He snorts out loud. Bad impressions. He turns around and raises a hand and gives Todoroki Shouto a two fingered salute. “Ahhh, Todoroki,” he says, smiling, “I'll see you at U.A.? Call me Kensei-kun, okay?”

“Um,” says the protagonist, who is larger than life and also the future number one hero: “yeah. See you there.”

“Yaaaay,” says Mikumo, and then he begins the sad, sad trek to the paramedics, to see if they'll let him take a nap or something.

“Honey, I just want you to know that – that whatever happens here, I'm still rooting for you. Shiketsu's exams are still open, and Eishu's.”

“I know, mom,” Mikumo smiles. He gives her a two fingered salute. “Your dear future Kensei will definitely become a hero no matter what, mom.”

“Oh, baby, I'm – I'm just so proud of you,” she begins, and her eyes become all wet and teary and Mikumo groans loudly, just to make her giggle. “I – I – oh, baby, you know I love you so much, and I never want to see you hurt, but this – this is your dream and I won't let my silly little nerves get in the way any longer. Your mom's always going to worry about you, you know that? You reckless brat!” She pinches both of Mikumo's cheeks until his face is stretched out and red.

“Okay, okayy,” Mikumo sighs. “Let's open the letter before you start squeezing me, mom!”

“Oh, dear, you're right,” she says. “I'm just so nervous.”

“You look more nervous than me, mom. It's my high school.”

He opens the letter. He knows what's in it – a metal disk. And he – he thinks that means he's in, already, because why would they send him a dramatic hologram if not? So he stares at the disk while his mom tilts her head in confusion until it clicks on, scaring the shit out of both of them somehow, and – “oh, fuck, it's All Might!”

“ Language!” His mother pinches his cheek. He deserves it, so he says nothing in complaint. 

Ah… ah…

Ah.

…”and I was just wondering if I could transfer some of my points to them,” Hologram Ochako stresses, with a worried frown on her face. Her eyebrows are scrunched in determination. “I mean, they could've gotten more points if he didn't… if they didn't help me. The guy with two hair colors, red and white, and the boy with green hair and freckles – oh, you know who I'm – yes, them. Like, 30% of my points, a fifty fifty split, how about – oh, I – well, okay, if that's –”

All Might explains rescue points or whatever. Mikumo knows this. Mikumo knows fucking all of this. His breath catches in his throat and then picks up, and his heart rate picks up, too, because – because Ochako wanted to give some points to him, too, and all he did was carry her out. And then All Might says that – that he showed what being a hero is all about – something about how he examined his peers and chose one the most suited to the situation while helping in the least reckless way – and… and…

Ah…

“Oh, baby,” his mother says, crying. She's sobbing, actually. “I told you you'd get in.”

Akatani Mikumo raises a fist, face blank and streaming tears. Someone else punches it lightly. I did it, Izuku, Mikumo says. I'm going to be a hero for you.

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku is 11 years old, baby-faced and bushy-tailed, bright-eyed and short-limbed. His hands are growing out of the immature stubbiness of youth, but he still wears a too-big All Might shirt his mother bought for him when he was 9, and his cheeks are still large and his head is still big. His hair is wild and untamed. His knees are red, his palms are red, and his hand is in his pocket, digging for spare coins.

He finds one, two, three of them, each for 100 yen, and then he finds a whole crumpled up note of 1000. With a balled up hand, he self-righteously lifts his chin and sniffs the air with the arrogance of a small child doing a good deed while no one is looking, and he drops his spare change into the trembling hands of an old lady.

Furuya Hana, the old lady in question, is so old that she has to bring the money up close to her face to process how much it is. Midoriya Izuku feels bad that he isn't carrying that much money, but it's not like he works a job or anything, at 11 years old. But Furuya-san is thankful anyway, because her lips curve up into the sweetest smile he's ever seen (only rivaled by Midoriya Inko), and she gets on her knees to bow.

“Oh, Furuya-san, you really don't have to,” Midoriya Izuku stammers, suddenly embarrassed and feeling chagrined, but she continues anyway until her entire body is against the hot concrete of the sidewalk. Behind her, two small children with wildly different faces watch her silently but with worry. “Furuya-san, please get up,” Midoriya Izuku mumbles, flustered, glancing between her and the children behind her. “Please, it's really alright.”

Eventually, she does. After too long of a time, she does. And she shambles off with the children following behind her, still quiet yet observing Midoriya Izuku as they leave with faces of suspicious admiration. Midoriya Izuku gives them an abashed little wave, and then, tentatively, a two fingered salute with a nervous smile. The older of the children, a girl with pink hair, scoffs at him and waves back.

Midoriya Izuku's hand falls as the group leaves. The sun beams on his skin; the park is mostly empty, with a few children running around and tackling each other into the dirt. A girl two years older than him with a quirk that lets her shoot thin thorns from her palms, Nakamoto Ayame, is calling her boyfriend and talking to him quietly while slowly shifting back and forth on the swingset. A pair of siblings, the Hiranos with their sound related quirks, push each other down the plastic slides.

Midoriya Izuku hops on a bench and settles down. He unzips his bookbag and retrieves a thin notebook from within. He flips to the first page and stares at the first words on it. Then he looks at the park, filled with small bursts of activity. Against this bench, which is filled with vulgar insults written in colorful permanent marker, is a large green tree that covers the beating sun and creates a cooling shade.

None of this , says his mind, the antagonist of this story, is important, is it?

Midoriya Izuku is 11 years old, and he is living a life that isn't important. His life won't be important until he is about 14 or 15 years old. Nothing he does until those years will really matter, and nothing he's doing right now really matters. But all of these people will continue to live their lives, even though the main plot will happen far, far away from them. In a few years, a catastrophe will happen in Japan. Musutafu. People might die. People will die. The Hiranos, who want to go into music production, might be trapped under rubble before becoming another name on a list.

And Midoriya Izuku will not care at all, even though he has talked to both of them. Even though they see him across the park and they both run over, tripping on their own feet, to grab at his red knees and beg for him to resolve another argument that's happened between them. Midoriya Izuku pats both of their heads, listens to them, and says hmmmm like he's really thinking about it. Then he chooses one and they laugh and yell at the other and then they're back to chasing each other again, all childish innocence and whatnot.

These people don't matter.

Hirai Izumi at the 7-11 asks him if he'll pay with cash or credit. He sticks his tongue out and playfully says he'll pay her with a showcase of his lovely kendo skills. She pops a bubble of bubblegum against her mouth and repeats her question. She doesn't matter.

Ueda Hajime at the corner of the road who always stands outside his father's sushi place, begging for visitors and passing coupons and pamphlets, pats Midoriya Izuku on the head. “Ueda Ramen is always open for little Izuku-kun,” Ueda Hajime says, with a bright, handsome smile. “Tell your mother to come by too, okay?” He doesn't matter.

Arata Yoshiaki comes into class after being absent for a week. His eye is bandaged up, and the entire classroom bunches at his desk and demands answers. With the cool confidence of a small child, he proudly says, “I was in a villain attack. As a hostage!” and everyone oooo hs and aaaaa hs. He doesn't matter, either.

None of these people matter.

Midoriya Izuku is otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo, and that boy is probably the biggest fan of the long-running shounen-style web novel, My Hero Academia , but he is especially the biggest fan of Bakugou Katsuki. The same Bakugou Katsuki who pushes him against a wall when he's 14 and spits in his face, demanding how he cheated and got into U.A.. My idol, Midoriya Izuku thinks, with a cake of fondness covered in a frosting of resentment. My idol, my idol, my idol. I loved everything about you, Bakugou Katsuki. I shaped myself around you. My confidence came from you. My willingness to fix myself came from you.

Bakugou Katsuki pops explosions on his uniform's collar. My confidence came from you , Midoriya Izuku thinks, because you're one of the only people in my life, right at this moment, that matters.

His life, up until this point, has felt like wading through a thick fog. Cold water at his ankles reminding him he's still alive, shinai bruising his skin, Nakamura-sensei telling him to get back up, but background characters fading into fuzzy static. Being alive makes his head hurt, and static pours out of his mouth when he talks. Midoriya Inko is a light in that fog. Bakugou Katsuki, no matter how much he abuses him, is another. And the fog is finally lifting, for once – finally, he thinks. Finally, I'll be in the main story. That's why it's all felt off-kilter, since the day I decided to go to U.A.. I'll finally be surrounded by people and places that matter. Things that matter.

And at the end of that fog is U.A., and Toshinori Yagi, and Aizawa Shouta, and Todoroki Shouto, and Bakugou Katsuki, and Uraraka Ochako. It's Yaoyorozu Momo, Ashido Mina, Iida Tenya. It's a million people who that boy, Akatani Mikumo, has been chasing after his whole life. So even as Bakugou Katsuki spits in his face, Midoriya Izuku begins to smile.

“What the fuck are you smiling for,” Bakugou Katsuki says. Akatani Mikumo laughs as he puppets Midoriya Izuku's body to tilt his head and crinkle his eyes at the boy who killed him.

“I'm happy , Kacchan,” says Akatani Mikumo and Midoriya Izuku. Something spiteful, vindictive, full of hatred boils in his voice. Something grandiose, admiring, and loving boils into his voice. Midoriya Izuku's eyes are wide. Akatani Mikumo speaks: “we're going to be heroes.”

He's not talking about Bakugou Katsuki. But at the same time, he is. Because Bakugou Katsuki matters.

Midoriya Izuku (otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo) has a problem, and it's nothing big or consequential like all of his very near future problems will be. The Unforeseen Simulation Joint looms over his heavy, heavy hands like the boulder that Sisyphus carries or whatever. And the Sports Festival, which he's sure he'll lose embarrassingly on live television. And the whole thing in Hosu which he honest to god might miss because of wrong-place-wrong-time. And a bunch of other stuff pinned to his bedroom corkboard wall in notes and red string.

No, no. None of those very important plot points are his problem, right now. The problem is that in Nakamura-sensei's dojo, the smallest age group is taking a break practicing their suburi, and they've decided to use that break to crowd him at the back of the room, sitting on one of the benches, being pampered by a terribly compassionate Oowada Hina.

Cold mist hits his exhausted face. Hina's eyes are blank like they always are, but her eyebrows are furrowed in a vaguely disapproving manner as he cracks a hesitant eye open just to see the crowd of children rocking back and forth in a small circle around the two of them. Hina sighs, shakes her head, and suddenly the cold mist is swapped with a spray of freezing water that smacks his nose. “Ah! Hinachan, are you trying to kill me?!”

“Midoriya,” Hina acknowledges, having given up on acquiring a normal nickname. She gestures to the kids. “You have to tell your story.”

Suddenly, all the irresponsible brats are cheering, and some even lift their shinai in the air to wave them around. “I want to hear what Midoriya-sama did!” “Yeah, yeah! Kensei-sama, tell us what you did!” “Is U.A. awesome?! Do they really have bathroom stalls as big as a bedroom?” “Was the lunch yummy?! Was it?!” “Did you see Recovery Girl? She's my favorite hero!”

“Hinachan, you're feeding me to sharks,” Mikumo says. Hina hums noncommittally as Mikumo finally gives the poor kids some attention – of course, because he is terrible at retelling stories and his palms are already starting to sweat at the prospect of disappointing so many tiny kids who look up to him in the sweetest way ever, he lifts his leg and slams it on the ground. The children quiet obediently. “So, so,” he says, in a rough voice, “you guys want to know of Kensei-sama's day at U.A., do you? You really want to know that badly, do you!?”

The kids nod. Mikumo leans back on the bench. “Well, I'll tell you, then – it was when I woke up that I thought to myself…”

What the fuck am I doing with my life?

He's been awake since four in the morning, counting the seconds down until he has to get up and iron his uniform. The ceiling above him doesn't respond, but a poorly taped All Might poster that he put up in commemoration of the poor guy he bodysnatched ruffles a bit. Mikumo smiles, because the air conditioning isn't on, and his window isn't up either. It's a bit comforting. Not much, but a bit. The seconds count down. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26.

Everything feels so hectic. He hasn't even been to class yet.

Hectic encounter 1: Bakugou Katsuki has been avoiding him, strangely enough. Mikumo assumed that his introduction into U.A. would make his idol more aggressive during their last months of middle school, but he was very wrong – in fact, Bakugou Katsuki hasn't spoken to him at all ever since the principal called them in to congratulate them both. What the fuck is up with that? Is it because of what he said? He doesn't think that saying we're going to be heroes is so offensive that it leads to avoidance rather than violence. Count your blessings when they come, he supposes, even though living with his alarm bells constantly ringing for a now imaginary threat is a bit of a fucking annoyance.

Hectic encounter 2: the burden of his information is starting to weigh on him. Heavily.

Early into his career as a 24/7 Midoriya Izuku inhabitant, he entertained the idea of stopping every threat that could ever happen with the power of information. Of course, he'd probably spend the rest of his life locked up for refusing to admit his sources – no matter how much he looked at it, even that lie-detecting detective would never believe him if he said he transmigrated into the body of a doomed 8-year-old. But he could still do it. Find some way to pass the information anonymously. A distress note to Principal Nedzu: help! Villains are going to kidnap Bakugou Katsuki! Or something stupid like that.

Then he'd thrown the whole thing away. Because what would be the point?

Where would Todoroki Shouto's character development go? What about Bakugou Katsuki's? The entire reason the hero kids were able to go on their internships earlier was because of the frequent villain encounters they had gone through. And the class wouldn't be as close, without all that trauma bonding. What would be the point, to out Dabi as Todoroki Touya on the first day of school? What would be the point, to erase Aizawa Shouta's near-death experience with a nomu? Nothing, is the answer. He had asked himself why he wanted to be a hero, and the answer was to see the hero's journey (haha).

So why would he delete all the things that encompass it? Because he can? No, no. Akatani Mikumo wants to be as much of a side character as someone like Kaminari Denki is – who has his cool, important moments, and is a funny but relatable character, but ultimately is not as impactful to the narrative as Bakugou Katsuki or Todoroki Shouto is. He can't risk his ideal position just because he wants to play hero – he's already going to U.A. for that, goddamn it.

But that doesn't mean he feels good about his decision, to indirectly instill trauma into the minds of 15 and 16 year olds just so that they don't turn bland as all hell. He knows what he's doing is for a – a maybe morally wrong cause but a good cause nonetheless, but now that he knows he's going to U.A., thinking about Uraraka Ochako's nauseous face at the entrance exam just makes his gut flutter with disgusting dread. Something cold and nagging that maybe comes from Izuku himself – something righteous, heroic, that says that he's being irresponsible.

So what? Maybe he is. He wants to write the fanfic of his dreams – when has a fanfic writer ever cared about the wellbeing of the characters they write for? Hell, fanfic writers intentionally put their favorites into horrifying, dizzyingly traumatic scenarios, if only to say “but look, at the end of the day, he's comforted by his friends.”

U.A. is so close that passing Bakugou Katsuki in the halls makes his heart jump with fear and terrible guilt.

So his life is hectic. Not to mention that every moment he thinks about U.A. he becomes a little excited at how real it all feels, now, how much happier he'll be amongst people who genuinely matter, who have real names and aren't just put in the story to fill up pages – it makes his saliva taste sweet. He's so happy he could die, so guilty he could cry, so immeasurably scared he could vomit. 56, 57, 58, 59…

At five AM, his phone's alarm rings. I am here! I am here! He shuts it off with a clumsy dragging pointer finger on the screen and he lifts himself up, feeling every emotion but tired. His soul feels knotted up too tight with everything he feels – elation, culpability, fear. Remorse. Regret. And then he goes, with his knotted up soul, and he irons his new uniform, and then he feels silly for doing that because he hasn't taken a shower. So then he takes a shower and brushes his teeth so hard that when he spits into the sink’s bowl, the white foam is tinged with red.

What the hell , he thinks sardonically, and he throws on his uniform. Tries to tie the tie and finds that he can't. Brushes his hair for a bit – and that really means that he makes the attempt to brush his hair but he doesn't quite make it, so it stays in its forever downward, disheveled curl – his curse of perpetual bedhead. He stares at himself in the mirror, with his too-bright eyes that don't match the permanent frown on his resting face, and his deep eyebags because he can never fall asleep at a good time, and the freckles that dot his cheeks.

He gives himself a two-fingered salute. “Hello,” he says. “I'm Midoriya Izuku.” In his best good boy voice, he bows into the mirror: “please take care of me.”

He stands up. Shoots himself a smile. Grabs his katana and the holster that goes around his waist and he doesn't forget the little identification card that U.A. gave to him that lists his katana as official support gear that he can legally have on him. He walks out of the bathroom and his mother, fiddling with the rice cooker, looks at him with awe.

And then her eyes begin to water. “Oh, mom, please don't do this now,” Mikumo desperately begs, but she's already crushing him in her arms and crying, blubbering things about how she's so proud of him and how he'll make a great hero. “Moooom,” Mikumo groans. “If you kill me with a hug before I even take one class at U.A., I'll come back and haunt you as a ugly ghost.”

He eats breakfast. His mother ties his tie for him, because she's an angel who has blessed him with her presence. “Goodbye, honey,” she says, sniffling. “Remember that mommy loves you!”

“Don't shout that,” Mikumo flushes, embarrassed, and then he's off.

…

On the way to U.A. – more specifically, on the way to the bus that drops him off near U.A., a boy knocks into him. Mikumo scrambles to apologize, bowing profusely, but then the boy says: “you go to U.A., huh? You know how much a U.A. uniform costs out here?”

“Um,” Mikumo says, because he had gotten his for free. You know, on account of him being in U.A. “No…?”

In the next moment, he realizes what he's being asked. The boy cocks his head, looks from side to side, and he reaches a hand towards Mikumo – presumably for his collar. Mikumo lets him do it if only because he's already bored of this clichéd little event. With a sneer, the boy says something about mugging him or something. Funny , Mikumo thinks, and he kicks the boy in the groin.

“I didn't listen to a word you said,” Mikumo remarks, softly, as the boy kneels on the sidewalk to recover. “Because you don't matter.”

He turns around and continues walking to the bus stop.

U.A. is a criminally large school. It's so large that they have, like, elevators that you go up and down. Because the school is so goddamn big. Midoriya Izuku (otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo) spends ten minutes trying to figure out where the heroics department even is, and then he spends an additional thirty seconds complaining about the whole damn thing under his breath as he angrily storms over to the door that's way way way too big. “The fuck is up with this shit,” says the guy who complains too much, murmuring under his breath while biting his thumb.

He stands in front of the door to Class 1-A. “I mean, really,” he mumbles, “this school is so corny. This is a giant fucking door with 1-A fucking plastered on it. What's next? The gym uniforms will have a U and an A on the fucking fabric? Oh, wait,” he hisses, as he turns the handle and opens the door, “they do !”

His worst, inevitable nightmare becomes real. Bakugou Katsuki, his idol, is in his class. Mikumo takes in the scene – Iida Tenya ruthlessly scolding him while various other students kind of watch with both pity and sympathy for Iida Tenya's opponent – and then, when Bakugou Katsuki's eyes land on him, he does a stupid little “eek!” and shuffles to the very back. 

“Allow me to reintroduce myself,” says Iida Tenya, to Bakugou Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki predictably laughs when Iida Tenya says he's from Souei, and then there is a very, very long argument.

He considers the corner seat, and then considers that he doesn't really want that, so he sits a seat away from the corner before he puts his head down and he stays quiet. And in this way, no one really pays attention to him, because Iida Tenya has sparked up another argument with Bakugou Katsuki. Score!

Then Uraraka Ochako comes into the room and his pretense of being a mysterious silent kenshi flies out the window when she spots him, waves a little, and skips right over to his desk, taking a seat in the corner. His heart does a little thrill at one of his favorites sitting next to him, because he knew a seating chart existed for My Hero Academia but he hadn't remembered it perfectly – oh, curse him! She looks around nervously before leaving closer to him and saying, “hey, you're the guy that saved me, right?”

“Um,” Mikumo says, and then he lies like a dirty little liar. “N-No? That was… Todoroki Shouto.”

And then Todoroki Shouto walks in, like a devil that comes when you call his name. The cool protagonist, with his words cutting as deep as a sharp piece of ice and his gaze burning as hot as the sun – that's how the novel described him anyway. The perfect example of a totally cool, totally overpowered protagonist, who ends up with like a million quirks due to One For All. That cool protagonist, whose presence shakes the whole room and quiets them down…

…

Takes a seat next to Midoriya Izuku, otherwise secretly known as Akatani Mikumo. What? Then Todoroki Shouto leans in , like Uraraka Ochako is currently doing – and two of Akatani Mikumo's favorites are at his desk, leaning over it like Mikumo is the fucking center of attention, and something claws violently at his heart: this is real, this is real, this matters. Real people are talking to me, looking at me, expecting things from me.

It's not fake anymore.

It matters.

Oh, fuck, it matters. He clenches his hidden hands into a fist as Todoroki Shouto speaks, and his voice is cool and warm and drips like ice water against Mikumo's sweaty face: “you're that kid who ordered me in the entrance exam.” Then, to Uraraka Ochako: “and you're the one he helped me save.”

Then back to Mikumo, oh my god, oh my god, “thank you.” Please don't say that, he thinks, but Uraraka Ochako says, “thank you both so much, I thought I was – it's a bit silly, but I thought I was going to die, and I was really scared, and – and you saved me, like real heroes.” Please don't say that, he heaves, trying to take in a breath. And thank his lucky stars for the existence of the man named Aizawa Shouta, who emerges from his sleeping bag and says some sarcastic comment, thank you, thank you, thank you, sensei!!

That was too much. That was too much. The sensation of being near real people, when the only two real people he knew were his mother and Bakugou Katsuki – it was too much. And, for not the first time, he wonders how the fuck he's supposed to survive U.A., when talking to two real people made his heart want to explode? Sitting next to him is Todoroki fucking Shouto, the successor of fucking All Might, the overpowered two-toned protagonist, the cold and cunning boy who told the story of My Hero Academia through his bewildered, exhausted eyes, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

“Get in your gym uniforms,” Aizawa Shouta says. “We're heading outside.”

Thank you, sensei, Akatani Mikumo prays, as he gets up as fast as possible and practically sprints to the locker room.

The first test begins now.

Oh, not the – the Quirk Apprehension Test thing. He knew that was coming, and he knows that when Aizawa Shouta makes a scary face and starts babbling about expulsion, he and Yaoyorozu are the only two who are securely unworried about the whole thing. No, no. The first test begins when, after explaining the rules, Midoriya Izuku says: “it sounds challenging! I'll take this as seriously as I can!” to Uraraka Ochako. And his heart feels like a newly opened bottle of champagne when she very seriously nods next to him, but the result is still the same:

Someone babbles about it sounding fun. Aizawa Shouta says he'll expel the person who comes last. Mikumo carefully morphs his face to shocked confusion – who would have known? But honestly, he's not worried, because he looks at Mineta Minoru and his eyes almost roll back in his skull. Really, I think I can do better on most things than this dumb pervert can , he thinks, which is probably not a very nice thing to think about a character who's fated to die, but who cares about that right now? Ah, he probably should. Ah, ah, ah, there's so many things to think about…!

50-meter dash. As expected, Iida Tenya is the best. Grip strength. Shouji Mezou crushes the competition, but Mikumo does so well on his own (you don't get good at iaido without knowing how to grip the damn hilt) that he scores impressively anyway. Standing long jump – I mean, it's average. Fuck’s he supposed to do for that? Leverage using the sheath? No way. That shit is an heirloom to him. Repeated side steps? Same thing. It goes on and on and on until the ball throw, where Bakugou Katsuki already crushed the competition.

He knows Uraraka Ochako will float the ball to infinity, but he still claps at her when she does it with a knowing smile. And various other people go – Mineta Minoru's is pathetically weak. And then it's Midoriya Izuku's turn. He drags himself up to the field like a dead man goes to his execution.

“Oi,” someone says. Mikumo glances over as Aizawa Shouta gets the ball. Kirishima Eijirou is gossiping with Kaminari Denki with a boyish smile on his face. Mikumo's heart seizes up so tightly that it hurts, a little. “What's your guess on Midoriya's quirk? I mean, I've been checkin’ everyone out, and I still don't know what Midoriya's is.”

“Maybe it's psychokinesis,” Kaminari Denki snorts. “Like, he can read minds and stuff.”

“So cool, ” Kirishima Eijirou replies. When he catches Midoriya Izuku looking, he gives a thumbs up. “I'm rooting for you, man!”

Mikumo tries to laugh. Can't, so he wheezes instead. He takes the ball when Aizawa Shouta tosses it at him and tries to ignore the piercing stare from the other man. It's a ball throw, I mean – he really can't get any better than his normal arm. He had dangled the idea of using his sheath as a baseball bat long, long ago, but that would be too flashy for a side character. Plus, he doesn't even know how to bat, so he'd end up with a lower score. So, like, well. He feels the ball, plants his feet in the appropriate position, and tosses that thing in the air.

Aizawa Shouta watches it fly. Clicks the measurement device. “102.4 meters,” he says, clearly a bit impressed by his raw talent.

“Fuck yeah,” Mikumo says, almost sobbing out of relief. His shoulders sag and he turns to go back to the crowd, but then – then.

The terrible siren call of explosions. The bad omen. The inevitable: Bakugou Katsuki, with an enraged expression, steps up to bat. Game's set. Midoriya Izuku's team is losing. Bakugou Katsuki wriggles, and he taps his bat into the ground, and he says: “have you been working out? ”

…what?

“What?” asks the poor batter, with a confused little frown. “Of – of course I have. How the hell would I have gotten into U.A. without working out?”

“You ain't tell me you were working out, Deku,” Bakugou Katsuki spits, like it's even his problem at all. “Sneakin’ behind my back.” Mikumo glances at the ground and realizes this is turning into a whole thing, which he'd rather avoid. He can especially feel the bewildered gazes of Uraraka Ochako and Todoroki Shouto, and that – that makes him groan a little bit and attempt to storm off to deescalate the topic.

Standing out is bad. He doesn't want to. Todoroki Shouto can do that just fine. Later, he'll change his seat to be next to – to Ojirou or something, and then his mob status will be reaffirmed. Everything is okay. Don't engage. He involuntarily flinches at the explosions he knew were coming as he walks off again, but then they – they stop, while his shoulders are hunched and his grip is tight on the harness of his sheath. 

Aizawa Shouta has wrapped Bakugou Katsuki up in capture tape. His eyes glow red to signify he's erasing Bakugou Katsuki's quirk.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” Aizawa Shouta says. “I won't allow you to assault anyone on the first day.” Then, with a lifted eyebrow towards Mikumo, Aizawa Shouta gestures for him to keep moving.

What the fuck?

No, this is really bad. This never happened in the original. Maybe – maybe Akatani Mikumo really should have killed himself. Something cold drops into the already beating heart. It makes it beat faster. Something is trickling in his liver – bursts of stardust ignite his very core, and the world is muffled. He hears nothing; this never happened. Everything is okay. He'll change seats. He might even change classes – he can't. Everything is okay .

The starbursts fade. He breathes out. Aizawa Shouta reels Bakugou Katsuki back in with a stern warning, and Uraraka Ochako glances at him nervously when Mikumo goes to stand next to her again – he just flashes her a weak smile and a two fingered salute and ignores her when she clearly wants him to talk about it or something. What would he do – drop his dramatic, turmoil-filled backstory on her?

The stats are posted. Midoriya Izuku is 18th. “Oh thank fuck,” he says out loud, in one big gasp of a relieved breath, and he curls in when Iida Tenya sternly scolds him with a mere look. But what does Iida Tenya know about anything? For all Mikumo knows, he could've actually been expelled if he ended up in last place just because of his quirkless status. Then Aizawa Shouta says it was all a mere ruse, my silly silly students! (he doesn't say that ) and then the rest of the day is actually really boring.

They go through their classes. They meet more teachers. The more popular ones, like Present Mic, get Mikumo's heart thumping like fire. Every time he's forced to talk to Todoroki Shouto, his heart thumps like ice. And then after all of it, it's the end of the day.

The food Lunch Rush made sits comfortably in his stomach. He pulls out his phone to text his mother, and –

“Deku,” Bakugou Katsuki says. Mikumo flinches, stands completely still – then he turns around when no one shoves him or blows explosions in their palms. Uraraka Ochako is standing right there, along with Asui Tsuyu. “Deku? Earth to Deku?”

“Um,” Mikumo despairs, “why are you calling me that?”

Uraraka Ochako's brow furrows. “Isn't that a nickname? Like, I can do it! I thought it was pretty cute, but if it's not, then…”

“I think it's supposed to mean useless, Ochako,” Asui Tsuyu says. Uraraka Ochako does a little gasp, and then a head tilt, and then she goes ooooooh like that makes more sense, which – well, it probably does. Bakugou Katsuki isn't the nicest person in the world. “Hello, Midoriya-kun. Call me Tsuyu, please. Kero. ”

“Hi, Tsuchan,” Mikumo says. “Can I call you that instead?” – he’s on a losing streak with societal cues, but Asui Tsuyu oh my god Asui Tsuyu gives him a small smile and a nod that makes him think he's doing something right. “Um, yeah, it's an insult.” and then, because he's nervous and his heart is fluttering, he grins and finger guns her (like she did to him) and he says, “but if you want, you can call me Kensei-sama. It's what everyone calls me at the dojo.”

“Is it now,” Uraraka Ochako replies, amused, with a single eyebrow quirked. But since she's smiling, she probably doesn't think of him as a complete moron. “Alright, Kensei-sama, let's see to it that you don't eat the pavement before you ascend to the heavens with your sword skills.”

“I already have,” Mikumo huffs. “I came down from the heavens to become a he – whatever. Did you two need me for something?”

“Oh, I just wanted to say hi, maybe wait for the bus with you. But I think Tsu –”

“Yes, I do,” Tsuchan says, with a blank look. She reminds Mikumo, a little bit, of that fake person who trains at the same fake dojo as him. “Midoriya Izuku, I always say what's on my mind.”

“Um, okay,” Mikumo says, preparing for the worst. This never happened, either. “What's up?”

“Are you quirkless?”

“And you know what I told her, right then and there? I said yessiree I'm quirkless, ma'am, and do you have a problem with that? And she just shook her head, said that she thinks I'm cool for it actually, and we all waited for the bus together.”

“Midoriya Izuku is picking up girls first day of U.A., Nakamura-sensei,” Oowada Hina calls, while spraying him with water. The younger kids laugh until they're wheezing, and Midoriya Izuku slaps Hina's hand until she stops.

“No way, Hinachan! No girl could replace my love for the sword, come on! I'm married to it at this point. Ah, what I wouldn't do for more sword lessons… ahhh…”

“Midoriya Izuku is romantically attracted to swords,” says Oowada Hina, and that makes the kids laugh harder.

Who is Eraserhead, anyway? 

My Hero Academia places him as probably the most reliable teacher when it comes to heroics – not that that means anything, when the other is fucking All Might. That man couldn't teach a class even if they gave him a script of what to say and do. But Eraserhead is also one of the coolest heroes in the novel, to Akatani Mikumo's delight, and he always found that his quirk was so interesting – really, every time Eraserhead interacted with his class, his heart melted a little bit at how much the gruff, older man cared about his eccentric class ranging from terribly smart (Yaoyorozu Momo) to braindead (Mineta Minoru).

A great man. A great teacher. In the novel he served as another mentor for Todoroki Shouto, another guiding torch in the dark cave that became his life. He protected his class with his life, and he defended them with his life, too. He was neither too kind nor too harsh, although he came off as the latter on occasion. And Akatani Mikumo absolutely adored him as much as he did with the clumsy All Might. How could anyone not ? There were people who fawned over Eraserhead like he'd be real boyfriend material. Akatani Mikumo showed nothing but respect for him.

And now that man was his teacher. His teacher. And Akatani Mikumo was absolutely positive that Eraserhead would disapprove of him. After all, one of Eraserhead's things is that he boots any motherfucker who thinks he can be a hero without putting in the appropriate work. For the overpowered protagonist, and for the hotheated rival, this wasn't an issue. But for someone like Midoriya Izuku, quirkless loser whose only strategy most of the time was to go do your best! ?

“You have a natural disadvantage, Midoriya Izuku,” Eraserhead says, appraising him with a look . Midoriya Izuku sweats in his own skin, like the inside of his flesh is sweltering profusely. He looks around – the classroom is empty. His second day and he's already being scolded… “You know this, don't you?”

“Um, of course,” Akatani Mikumo says, with a silly, nervous smile. He rocks on his heels as his mind fills with the fuzzy static feeling of being near a real person. “I'm quirkless. But I've worked really hard for this opportunity, so I – I hope you won't judge me for my f-faults…?” He'd sound so much cooler if his voice wasn't constantly cracking – ah, what an age 15 is to be!! “Um, and also, I had a question to ask you .”

“Hm?” Eraserhead's mouth twitches.

“So you know how hero students can't join clubs, right,” Mikumo says, sadly.

“I do know this,” Eraserhead replies, voice dry. Mikumo very quickly loses his nerve and confidence. Bakugou Katsuki, he thinks, with a sad little smile, would have said what he thinks. I want to join the kendo club! I want to be U.A.’s best kendōka! Why, why, why!?

“Nevermind,” Akatani Mikumo wheezes. When he's dismissed, he practically runs out of the classroom, clutching his harness. Die, die, die, everyone should just die!!!

Once upon a time, Midoriya Izuku has his fifteenth birthday. His mother makes the cake. She lights the candles.

Against his better judgement, the next day of school starts with him sitting in the exact same seat as yesterday. This is really all Uraraka Ochako's fault, who is earlier than him and thus waves to him when he stumbles into the classroom. Her eyes are hopeful as she slaps the desk next to her, and Akatani Mikumo (who is a coward and hates making people upset) sighs in his head and gives her a two-fingered salute, smiling in what he hopes is a lazy, relaxed manner as he walks over and sits down. Uraraka Ochako leans to him with a question in her eyes.

“ Kensei-sama ,” she mumbles, and oh wow, she's still going with this bit. The frazzled, cold/warm feeling in his soul dissipates a little – if she's normal enough to joke around with him then surely she's not as much of an untouchable deity as he'd like her to be, right? She's just a normal girl, right? “Are you okay? You look queasy.”

“Ahh,” Akatani Mikumo, who is not as sneaky or good at concealing his emotions, says. “I'm just nervous for our second day,” he lies – well, no, it's the truth. He knows what will happen today. He's just desperately hoping not to have to fight against Bakugou Katsuki, because in every situation he loses that fight. He wants his classmates to respect him a little before they all find out he's quirkless. “And plus, it’s super nerve-wracking, having such a cool person sitting next to me.”

“Huuuh. Todoroki-kun?” Uraraka Ochako guesses. Akatani Mikumo winks at her.

“No,” he says. That's a half-truth. “I'm talking about you, Uraraka! Can I call you Urarachan?”

“Eh?! Only if I can call you Kensei-chan, isn't that only fair?!”

“Uraraka-sama.”

“ Kensei-chan, Kensei-chan, ” she repeats, smile twisted in a wicked manner. Uraraka Ochako is evil. “I'm gonna call you Kensei-chan~! ”

“Oh my god, don't call me that!”

Todoroki Shouto chooses this moment to sit down beside him. His heart stops, drops, and does a roll. His liver feels like it's being dipped into cold water and then picked up and dumped into molten lava. His brain leaks through his ears. This is so real it hurts. And, once again, his guardian angel of a sensei appears from beneath his desk and he begins to take attendance. Thank you, Aizawa-sensei , he cries in his head, as Uraraka Ochako's attention turns to the front of the classroom and her teasing conversations fade away, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you!! Would it be weird to buy Aizawa-sensei a gift for saving his life?!

The day chugs on. Aizawa-sensei gives a big lecture on how they shouldn't act irresponsibly, because they're big kids now and they're training to be heroes – stuff that goes in one ear and out the other with Mikumo, but which emboldens the class further. Kirishima Eijirou, voice shaking in trepidation, says that's so manly over a thousand times. Ashido Mina slaps Kaminari Denki's shoulder with excitement. Even Uraraka Ochako gains a fire in her eyes that wasn't there before, while Akatani Mikumo kind of just wants to curl up and cry, cursing himself for wanting to have front-row tickets to Class 1-A's malicious trauma-bonding experiences. The U.S.J. incident still looms over his shoulder. He can't take anything seriously.

It continues like that until the last period of the day, when the General Education and Support and Management classes have gone home. All Might bursts through the door like a normal person, buffed up and smiling widely like he always does, and Akatani Mikumo's brain sparks and fizzles into a burnt end when All Might nods to Todoroki Shouto quietly and, with a look of slight surprise on his face, also nods to Mikumo. Todoroki Shouto shoots him an inquiring look, and Mikumo carefully does not look back.

Ahh, the event he's going to hate so, so much. Ahh. The Battle Trials!

Akatani Mikumo is skilled at kendo. Kendo is a practice where everyone is following rules and also if you don't follow the rules you get suspended, like, forever. Akatani Mikumo would even say he has a natural talent for the martial arts of kenjutsu, according to what Nakamura-sensei says whenever he strikes her with the dull blade of a sanded down practice sword. But Akatani Mikumo is not very skilled at battle , is what he thinks in the locker room, questioning his decision on his hero costume.

“Wow, Midoriya,” says Kirishima Eijirou, from behind. “Very Edo period.” He nods, once, and Mikumo knew his hero costume was shirtless but Kirishima Eijirou is very shirtless. Gross. “Very manly. Like a real samurai. Didn't Jirou say that?”

“It's really silly, is what it is,” Mikumo insists, even as his heart begins to pitter-patter as Kirishima Eijirou inches closer to him. He covers his flushed cheeks with his hands. So silly . “My mother insisted on it, and so did everyone – so did everyone else I know. Kensei-sama, they all called me! Kensei-sama , wear the silly costume! Now you look like a true Kensei! I'll win 62 duels before the year's over! Now look at me,” he babbles, misery increasing with every word that spills from his mouth. He sighs dramatically, sheathing and unsheathing his sword. “I look like an idiot.”

A green kimono with a black hakama over it, falling at his ankles. His sword jostles in its holster around his waist, and the baggy sleeves of his kimono flutter around as he lifts his arms. His kataginu , also black, doesn't even have a family crest or anything on it, so he just looks like he's wearing a whole kamishimo for the fucks of it. “I was embarrassed enough wearing the hakama – what am I doing?! Am I battling or am I fighting a really sweaty kendo match?! But then – then my stupid friend Hinachan said that if I were to be a Kensei-sama, I'd have to put on the whole set! Now I look like a disgraceful samurai! ”

“You look cool, man,” Kirishima Eijirou says, clapping him on the shoulders. The contact makes the rest of his miffed words die on his tongue, and it also makes his thoughts leak from his nose a little. Kirishima Eijirou gives him a bright smile – it could honestly combat All Might's – and he says, “totally samurai style. If it's so bad, then you can change it later, right? I’ll call you Kensei , dude.”

“You really don't have to,” Mikumo says, in a pathetic wheeze.

Solemnly, Kirishima Eijirou continues to pat his back. “You can get two pins with green on them, and ‘ya’ written inside. Get it? And then those are your family crests.”

“Be quiet,” Mikumo says, but that's actually kind of funny, so he snickers.

Outside, Uraraka Ochako looks very cool, but her face squeezes into something uncomfortable while she stretches the tight fabric of her bodysuit. “Oh, hi, Kensei-chan ,” she says, when Mikumo warily approaches her, because if he doesn't then he'd stand out as a lonely loser and he really doesn't want to stand out. She grins at him and then looks at her outfit, twisting and turning so he can get a view of it. Oh my god, his inner voice wheezes. She's so cool it actually hurts a bit. “My hero outfit's a little tighter than I imagined it would be…”

With dead seriousness, Mikumo says, “then you should change it.” He pats himself on the back for his respect for women. Uraraka Ochako gives him a strange look, but then she shrugs.

“I'll definitely live, so what's the point? Anyway, what the hell is your outfit? Totally Edo vibes! Are you a samurai!? ”

“Don't remind me,” Mikumo heaves a sigh, scratching his neck. “Blame Hinachan. It's all her fault.”

In the original series, Uraraka Ochako is paired with Todoroki Shouto. In the unfortunate AU that is Akatani Mikumo's life, she's paired with him instead. Akatani Mikumo curses the universe: why do you keep trying to put me with the coolest girl ever?! Can you stick me next to Shouji Mezou and call it a day?! I'm sick to death of feeling like a balloon that's been blown up too much but refuses to pop. But against his wishes, Uraraka Ochako squeals with glee at the drawing and she says, evilly: “ Kensei-chan, please teach this young one your ways of swordplay!”

“Hush hush,” Mikumo says, trying not to expel all the air in his body at once.

Don't do this to me, universe, Akatani Mikumo pleads. Please. Todoroki Shouto is the protagonist. He's supposed to go against Bakugou Katsuki. All will be right with the world as long as that happens, so please…don't… do this to him…

“Team A,” All Might says, and it's like – it's like he knows, really. He knows how the drawing will go. And his legs shake a little, and he grips the sheath of his katana, and All Might ruins his day; “will go against Team D.”

“Oh boy,” Uraraka Ochako says. She looks at Mikumo, who probably has become as pale as a fucking ghost. Then she looks to Bakugou Katsuki, who pops threatening explosions in his palms. “Midoriya, will this really be okay?”

“It's completely fine,” Akatani Mikumo says, because he is the biggest liar in the world.

Once upon a time, a boy named Midoriya Izuku has his fifteenth birthday. His mother bakes the cake in U.A. colors and she writes Plus Ultra! in icing on the top. It's vanilla, and it's also delicious, and then she makes him a big bowl of katsudon. “I'm so proud of you,” she says, and she begins to cry. “I'm so proud of you, baby, I'm sorry.”

“Don't cry,” says Midoriya Izuku. In front of him, his mother wails. Beside him, a boy who doesn't exist anymore cries, too.

“Hey,” Akatani Mikumo says, and then his epic speech is interrupted by explosions. But he's never been a fan of monologuing, anyway – isn't it good to leave your ideas and past and everything shrouded in mystery? How does Akatani Mikumo know that Bakugou Katsuki will always strike with his right hook, despite the novel never expressly making that detail clear? Who knows? It's because Bakugou Katsuki matters. “Hey, hey, hey, can I talk f-first? Oh my god, you're so dramatic all of the time.”

“The fuck are you talking about,” Bakugou Katsuki says, lowly. He punches the air, and then kicks the air, and then becomes frustrated at Akatani Mikumo's constant dodging. He grins. “Would you stand the fuck still and let me beat the tar out of you, bitch?”

He kicks at Akatani Mikumo's side. Mikumo blocks the kick with his arm and pushes him off, backing up to create space. He pushes at Bakugou Katsuki's appraising jabs at his arms, face, and stomach. He creates space, which is the most important part, while eyeing the nukes on Bakugou Katsuki's arms. He threatens to draw his sword every time he creates enough space to take an action without being hit again, but then Bakugou Katsuki vaults himself forward with his explosions, and suddenly he's blocking, dodging, and jumping back more.

“Stop calling me a bitch,” says Akatani Mikumo, whose hands are trembling so badly that he's sure years of iaido are being tossed out of the window. “It's sexist. You wouldn't – you wouldn't call the lovely Uraraka Ochako a bitch, would you? T-Treat others how you'd like to be –”

“Stop fucking talking, ” Bakugou Katsuki growls. “You always fucking yap every time you get – you get scared. Just shut up and fight me, nerd. What do you have to be scared of? Stop dodging!”

“Is this really okay, Midoriya? I can probably take on Bakugou.”

“No, he'll ignore you to go for me. I know it. It would be fine if he wasn't such a – a petulant bastard, but he… he is, so… I'll give you a signal, tell you what floor I'm on, and then –”

“Ahh, um, no,” Akatani Mikumo says, dodging another swing to his chest. He jumps backwards with a hand on the hilt of his sword. Hysterically, he doesn't want to draw it because he's scared of hurting Bakugou Katsuki. Swords are so lethal that it hurts to use them. “You could – you could hit me three million times and never t-touch me.”

“You're stuttering ‘n shit,” Bakugou Katsuki says, and he throws his palms in the air, in front of Akatani Mikumo's face. “You always stutter, too. Spit it out or shut the hell up.”

…is something wrong? He doesn't feel right. His stance is all off, and…

Bakugou Katsuki… isn't nearly as mad as he should be.

“He’ll be so mad that he probably won't be thinking about the match. He might –” Mikumo laughs sharply, and then he schools his expression into something cold. “No, he'll probably try to kill me. It will be really embarrassing for me.”

“Midoriya,” Uraraka Ochako says. “I really don't think you should fight him. Actually, if you're so sure, we can talk to All Might –”

“Isn't it how it's s-supposed to be? If we can't even kill Bakugou Katsuki, who is on our side, then – t-then how can we call ourselves heroes?”

Bakugou Katsuki unleashes a barrage of popped explosions. Akatani Mikumo swings his sword so quickly that it nicks Bakugou Katsuki's gloved hands and threatens to tear the fabric. Mikumo blinks in awe of himself – he wasn't even in a stance to do that. “I'm like the m-modern Musashi, you know. M-Miyamoto?”

“So how'd you do it, huh?” Bakugou Katsuki spits, ignoring him, and now – now it's real, because he grabs Akatani Mikumo's arm and pops it in his hand for the seconds that it takes for Mikumo to wrench it away, and then there's a blooming pain on his skin that reminds him all too much of middle school. “How'd you get into U.A.? Cheat your way in, you quirkless freak? Deeee-kuuuu,” he singsongs, like he's circling prey, and then –

All of the confidence leaves him.

He has a plan. He has a plan. He just has to keep… has to keep… has to keep…

What if I just killed him, right now? Beheaded him on the cameras? What would my fanfiction turn out to be? A crime drama, investigating where I've run off to?

“Ah, ahah,” Mikumo hiccups, trembling. “Hey, Kacchan, I'm going to run away now.”

“And then I'll run.”

He does. Anger flares up behind him: fucking get back here , and there are explosions near his ears, and he continues to run. He runs all the way around the third floor, and then he reaches the stairs to the fourth and he hesitates before pivoting on his feet and feinting Bakugou Katsuki into slamming his body against the wall. He runs back, hand on the hilt. He panics. He panics. He doesn't – he has a plan, but now that it's ready to be executed, he doesn't know what to do. He'll die. He'll die. He'll die.

“Did you really cheat your way in?! Oh, did you think working out would make you prepared for hero shit, you shitty nerd?! You're shaking like a fucking leaf, dumbass!”

I was never cut out for this shit, he thinks. I'm sorry, Izuku. I'll probably never be a proper hero even though you want me to. Bakugou Katsuki is behind him. The hallway he's entered has no clear exits – it's perfect. He watches Bakugou Katsuki rip his earpiece out and crush it beneath his feet – and, hysterically, he laughs at the irony. I'm not cut out for this, he thinks. I'm not. I'm not. I want to practice kendo forever with fake people. I want to talk to my mom. I want to – go home. I'll never be cut out for this.

He has a plan.

“No way out,” Bakugou Katsuki mutters darkly. He lifts his arm. “Deeeee-kuuuu. Let me tell you about this fucking component in my hero suit. Thought about it myself, Deku.”

“Eek,” Mikumo replies.

“He'll try to kill me,” Mikumo says. “So when I give you the –”

Bakugou Katsuki's eyes are manic. His grin is wild. He lifts his other hand slowly, like watching a missile fly down from the sky. “You know my sweat powers my explosions, Deku,” he mocks, “so I got them to store all of the sweat in my arms that I don't use… all of it into this gauntlet here.” He pats the gauntlet lovingly. “So let's think about it, you braindead fuck… what will happen if all of that sweat… is blown up, riiiight here?”

All Might's tinny voice crackles on their speakers. “Bakugou Katsuki, if you unleash that attack, Midoriya Izuku will die!” There's the sound of shocked gasps from the other side, and…

And…

I'm not cut out for this, Akatani Mikumo thinks, freezing up. His joints lock in place, and he thinks: I'm going to die.

Once upon a time, it was Akatani Mikumo's fifteenth birthday.

In celebration, he bought himself a slice of strawberry cake from the local bakery. Then he went to kendo practice and he told everyone that for the whole day, they have to call him Kensei-sama , because it's his birthday. They all laughed and said, okay, Kensei-sama , and then after that he walked home alone and he ate his cake alone and he opened his phone.

His face brightened. Another chapter of his favorite novel, My Hero Academia , had been updated. And this one had a lot of Bakugou Katsuki in it, his favorite character ever.

Bakugou Katsuki's friends would celebrate his birthday. Akatani Mikumo imagined it, there, sitting at the dining room table by himself with the only light on in the whole house being the bathroom one, peeking out from the sliver of an open door. Todoroki Shouto says “happy birthday, Mikumo,” and he gives him a cool, small smile. “Happy birthday, Mikuchan” says Uraraka Ochako, with rosy cheeks and a bright grin. “Hey, Mikubro! Happy birthday!” says Kirishima Eijirou, smacking him on the back.

“Happy birthday,” says Bakugou Katsuki. His smile is rough and magic but warm on the edges, tinged with the nostalgia of reconnecting with an old friend. He cuts a large strawberry cake. On the cake, written with icing: Plus Ultra!

Akatani Mikumo is happy. He is surrounded by his friends. He is…

I'm not cut out for this.

“Yes, you are,” his mouth says, for him. Bakugou Katsuki looks at him strangely, hesitates for a split second, and it's just enough time for Akatani Mikumo to shout: “ Uraraka, now!”

Bakugou Katsuki's eyes widen. He turns behind him. “Fuck are you t –”

Uraraka Ochako's fist meets his nose, and the sound of cartilage breaking under her knuckles echoes in the hallway. His head snaps back, and blood gushes from his nostrils, and then he falls over. Uraraka Ochako ties him with a near brutal efficiency.

“ Kensei-sama ,” she says. Mikumo blankly stares at her, and…

…

And she smiles at him, bright and murderous, and she says, “let's win this fucking match.”

Akatani Mikumo stares at her. And then he nods, once. She leaves and he follows, hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword. When he looks behind him, there is the nonexistence of a 13 year old boy. His body is smashed against the pavement. His eyes are confused. They mirror him.

Who are you becoming a hero for, again?

“I'm glad we won, Uraraka –”

“You can call me Ochako, I think.”

He sniffs. Worms writhe in his stomach, and also his lunch. “Ochachan?”

She smiles. “Gross, Kensei-chan . Maybe I'll demote you to Kenshi-chan .”

“No way! No way… hey, I'm glad we won, but I think – I think I'm going to puke.”

“Oh wow,” she says, in awe, as he proceeds to be sick. “Look at that! Finally, I'm not the one throwing up at the end.”

“You vile villain, transferring your nausea to me! B-But no. That was just the most stressed I've literally ever been in my life, and I've – and I do kendo.”

“Wowww,” Uraraka Ochako says. “Like a modern Miyamoto Musashi.”

Uraraka Ochako helps him shakily walk over to the Ground Beta camera room, and he also helps Uraraka Ochako shakily walk over to the Ground Beta camera room. Iida Tenya and Bakugou Katsuki are taken by Recovery Girl. Bakugou Katsuki's nose is caked in dried blood that travels to his chin, and the vulnerable parts of Iida Tenya's armor are blink-and-you'll-miss-it stained with dark blood. “Oh man,” Mikumo says. “W-We really did a number on those guys.” Regret boils in his throat – did he go too far? Especially for a mob character…

“It's because we rock, Kensei-chan .” Uraraka Ochako's voice leaves no room for argument.

“You guys were fucking awesome,” says Kirishima Eijirou, with stars in his eyes. “I mean, totally fucking manly, seriously! Holy shit, Uraraka, that punch you gave Bakugou? Right in the face, man, it hurt to even watch, and it was super cool, it felt like watching a movie –”

“I think Midoriya-san was cooler,” says Kyouka Jirou, because she hates him and wants him to die. He does a pathetic wheeze in response and resists the urge to throw his katana on the ground. She smirks, reveling in his expression (probably) while she idly twirls her earphone jacks around her finger. “I mean, did you see all that fancy sword stuff he pulled on Iida? It was like watching a real samurai. ”

“Don't say that,” Mikumo coughs. He knows his cheeks are red. Damn you, Izuchan!

“The MVP of this match – well, I can't decide between Midoriya and Uraraka, if that's okay,” Yaoyorozu says, with a furrowed brow. “Their teamwork was phenomenal. They overpowered Iida Tenya despite him being faster than them both, and it was a good plan for Midoriya Izuku to prioritize distraction while Uraraka Ochako feigned fighting with him in order to get closer to the bomb… so, um, great job, you guys.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Uraraka Ochako says with glee, because being complimented by a pretty rich lady would literally make anyone happy. Mikumo, who is not happy, wheezes again and again until Uraraka Ochako finally dumps him on the floor. His heart pitter-patters in his chest. The floor feels so cold. And there are people above him, looking down at him, asking if he's okay and if Bakugou Katsuki popped his arm and if the kick Iida Tenya gave him in the gut hurt as much as it looked.

And he feels alive.

And later he might curse himself for teasing Bakugou Katsuki. Later he might think he made too much of a scene to be a side character, and later he might want to move desks again because sitting next to the protagonist gives him – not butterflies in his stomach, but, like, worms. But he won. He beat Iida Tenya and Bakugou Katsuki with his own hands (and also Uraraka Ochako's).

I'm doing it, Akatani Mikumo says. I'm being a hero. For you.

Nothing answers him.

“Um, Aizawa-sensei, will there ever be exceptions to the, um, rule that hero students can't participate in clubs?”

Aizawa-sensei lifts an eyebrow suspiciously. “What club are you thinking of joining, Midoriya,” he replies, with an air of weariness that makes Mikumo almost want to bolt out of the classroom. Something pushes his side really hard so that he cannot do exactly that. He goes hmmmm and looks at the ceiling's light very, very hard. 

“Kendo, sir,” he says. “I'd like to join the kendo team, but I understand if not.”

“...” Aizawa-sensei gives him a long-suffering look. Then, because Aizawa-sensei is an angel from the heavens sent to make Akatani Mikumo's life so much easier, he morosely sighs and says, “I'll see what I can do. Now go or you'll miss lunch.”

“Ahh, thank you, Aizawa-sensei, thank you, thank you,” Akatani Mikumo says, and he bows repeatedly until Aizawa-sensei glares at him a little, and then he goes “eek!” and he runs out of the stupidly big door. Then, in the lunchroom, he stumbles around stupidly looking for a table to eat at and none of them are empty – how dare this school force him to awkwardly position himself away from people while having seats at booths ?! Terrible, terrible. He carries his tray around and around until he finally catches Uraraka Ochako waving him down intensely. He meekly walks over.

“Hi, Ochachan,” says Mikumo. “Were you doing that for a while?”

“Yes! I was! Kensei-chan , I'm sad to admit this, but are you blind?!”

“I'm not blind ,” Mikumo says, worms writhing around in his stomach. “How would I have won 62 duels in a row if I were blind?”

They both laugh, and then Mikumo sits next to her, and suddenly he's very aware of the other three people also sitting with them. Ah… I've gotten so comfortable joking around with Ochachan that I didn't notice…

Asui Tsuyu looks at him curiously. Kaminari Denki looks at him with respect ( ew ew ew ). And Iida Tenya, whom he had kicked the ass of yesterday, looks at him with a stilted sort of pressure. “Oh, god,” Mikumo wheezes, as his bones sort of lock up. “What did I do? Did I do something? If I did, then I'll seppuku right here, on my honor as a kenshi. I'll write a jisei and everything. It'll be beautiful.”

His joke only lands with Asui Tsuyu and Uraraka Ochako, who both do this squinched face of suppressed laughter. Iida Tenya looks the very epitome of unamused. 

“No you won't, man, be quiet,” Kaminari Denki says. He slams his hands on the table and leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Is it true, man?! Is it?!”

“Um,” says Mikumo.

“Is it true that you're actually quirkless ?!”

Midoriya Izuku is 4 years old.

He has just been diagnosed as quirkless because of the extra toe joint in his foot. Because of a single extra joint, he will never become a hero, despite aspiring to be one for his whole life.

He loves heroes.

His favorite hero is All Might. But he likes other ones, too. He loves Endeavor, and he loves Best Jeanist, and he loves Present Mic. His mom always buys him cool hero shirts and other merchandise. His favorite figure is an All Might one, with his American-era hero suit. This is what he clutches as he rewatches his favorite video.

It's a video of All Might. There is a person recording it, and she's crying softly because of how scared she is. But through a bit of rubble and debris, she can see him. Her savior. Her hero. All Might, bathed in the beating sun, illuminating him like a halo does to an angel. Awash in holy light, All Might carries injured people on his back, and his smile never leaves, not once. And he says, I am here.

I am here.

“Mom,” Midoriya Izuku asks. He’s crying. “Can I become a hero like All Might?”

His mother cries and embraces him.

…

It's not the right answer.

It's not the right answer.

It's not the right – 

And then Akatani Mikumo, the alien who has stolen his body, wakes up. He pats himself down. His clothes are sweaty from his tossing and turning. It's three in the morning. And he's so, so scared. Like a little baby, really, even though he's been practicing his hand-to-hand and his stances and everything. He flips over on his mattress and checks the date.

Beep beep, his calendar says, sending him a notification. It's time for all of your classmates to be recklessly traumatized, and it's time for you to watch as your teacher is beaten half to death by a genetically modified behemoth! It's time for you to betray everyone just because you can't afford to mess the story up too much!

Something stirs in his gut. A disgusting, shameful thing curdles in his stomach. He's scared, so he flips up the blankets and he peels his clothes off and, trembling, he walks over to the computer. He turns it on and he navigates to a file saved into a folder called “IZUKU”. It's a video.

It'll be okay , Akatani Mikumo says to himself. It'll be okay. Everything will be fine. No one is fated to die here, not even Mineta Minoru or Ashido Mina. No one will die here, as long as he sticks to what he’s supposed to do.

Everything will be okay. And all of it matters.

Midoriya Izuku is 15 years old. 

He is standing on the entrance to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. His nerves are on fire. He can't hear Thirteen’s speech at all. His eyes are trained on the plaza. His eyes are trained on the fucking plaza, and he grips his hilt so tightly he's scared he'll break his own hand. And he watches as the portal opens, right when it's supposed to. He watches as Aizawa-sensei shouts at all of them to run, like they're supposed to. And he…

…

what?

No, that's not right , he thinks, deliriously. His head is spinning. Uraraka Ochako is asking him what's wrong. People are trying to get out, and Kurogiri is probably about to teleport them all somewhere. What? What? I would've noticed this before. I definitely would've known. They would have said something, later. I would've known. I would've known.

Standing near Shigaraki, Toga Himiko trembles, knife in hand. She looks to the entrance. When she catches Mikumo's eye, hers widen, and she turns to him and… and waves.

“What the fuck,” Akatani Mikumo says, and then he sinks into Kurogiri's warp gate.

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku is 15 years old, and he is feeling the guiltiest he's ever felt in his life, because he harbors a terrible secret. A secret which threatens to break him entirely if he so lets it – a secret so terrible that he hesitates to say it out loud today because of the gravity it brings. Okay, are you ready? This is Midoriya Izuku's secret: his name is not really Midoriya Izuku. It's Akatani Mikumo, and he is probably the biggest fan of the light novel My Hero Academia .

My Hero Academia , published by t_t666 online, was written over the course of eight years. Although not without breaks – frequently after large and expansive story arcs, the author would seemingly ghost the story, citing that something about it didn't sit right to them. And then they would reappear months later with a new chapter and a note of gratitude to their readers – Akatani Mikumo included, as he donated quite a bit to the author over the course of My Hero Academia 's runtime – and then the cycle would repeat. For eight years, My Hero Academia told the story of the future number one hero, Todoroki Shouto, and his overpowered journey to greatness.

Initially, Todoroki Shouto is a cold, unfriendly boy. But after multiple traumatic experiences and bonding moments between him and his classmates – including villain attacks, kidnappings, and entire wars – he breaks away from his ice-cold persona and allows life to warm him up. He stands up to his abusive father and he reconnects with his various estranged siblings, including his previously villainized brother, Todoroki Touya. He saves thousands of lives in multiple long, drawn out battles between various threats, even after All For One is defeated. He stays OP as fuck throughout the whole thing.

Then, suddenly, when Akatani Mikumo is 16 years old –

Midoriya Izuku opens his window. The sun beats on his skin. It always seems to be too sunny for him, even as fall approaches. He listens to the gentle sound of the leaves rustling against the branches of the large oak tree outside of their apartment. He looks at the bright, baby-blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds. He stares at his hands, covered in blood. And then he bashes his head against his mattress.

“What am I doing?! Why can't I say anything?! Principal Nedzu, if you have me bugged, then listen right now – the U.S.J. will be attacked today! By the League of Villains! Shigaraki Tomura!! All For One has returned!!” He bangs his fist against his bed, gritting his teeth against his blankets. His entire body is sweaty. “Come on! Just – universe, give me a sign! Tell me that you're listening! Make sure no one dies!!!”

The universe, predictably, does nothing. The universe hates Akatani Mikumo. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!!!”

It's going to be so bad. It's the same dreadful feeling that you have when you walk into an exam that you know you'll fail no matter how hard you study, except it's different and worse because his classmates’ lives are at fucking stake. And he knows that – he knows that – and he's about to sit there and let it happen. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He agreed to it himself, came to terms with it himself, but it's different making plans for a future than it is to actually do those plans, especially when Uraraka Ochako calls him Kensei-chan and Todoroki Shouto keeps shooting him strange glances in the hallways.

“Ahhh, ahhh…” he can smell his own fear, nauseating, drowning. “I'm going to die.”

He really might.

Despite thinking he really might die, he gets ready for school anyway. His mother notices his dip in mood because he gets an extra portion of pork for breakfast. “You're a hero now, Izuku,” she insists, even as he blankly stares at the bowl. “And heroes should eat more!”

“Thanks, mom,” Mikumo says. He thinks of all the ways he could die. Kurogiri could rip him in half with his quirk. Shigaraki Tomura could grab his arm and crumble him to dust. Any small villain could catch him off guard and fuck him up. Cut his stomach and bleed him out like a dying animal, and he'd squeal and go please spare me ! Like a coward. Oh my god. He can prevent it all. He really can. Principal Nedzu, he thinks. If you can hear me right now, cancel the plans for our class to go to the U.S.J. today.

He had so many chances to prevent it. He could have told someone. He could have told someone about the reporters planning to break in. He could've done something. But he didn't – listlessly, he closed his eyes and pretended not to see the warning signs. Intentionally, like bringing his class to suicide, he wished for the villains to at least kill him painlessly if they managed to cripple him. “Mom,” Mikumo says, sniffling into his rice. “Hey, mom.”

“...yeeees, dear?” His mom says, because she's trying to cheer him up. Mikumo hiccups.

“If I don't make it back home can you please read all of my very secret Midoriya Izuku Preservation Notebooks and then send all of them to Principal Nedzu at U.A.?”

“ What?!”

He sniffles. “Just promise me,” he sighs. “Can you promise me? But – but don't look at them if I’m not dead, not even if I lose an arm or a leg. You can only read them when I'm dead.”

“Um,” his mother says, clearly worried but unsure of how to express it: “okay? But, Izuku –”

“Thank you, mom,” says Mikumo, who then takes the bus to school to avoid any more questions.

At the front, he meets with Ochachan, who takes in his nervous appearance and then smacks him upside the head. He allows her to do it with the shame of a child being berated by their mother, even though her intent is playful. Then Ochachan says, “hey, what's wrong? Are you okay? It's because of the field trip, isn't it?” and Mikumo nods and tries to think of an excuse that doesn't sound like a pitiful lie. He tries very, very hard, and the first thing out of his mouth is:

“I'm just a bit bummed,” he sighs. “I really wanted to go to Universal Studios Japan.”

The sun beats down on him. He's such a liar. He can just stare into one of his favorite character's faces and lie to her, just like that, because he's a coward who doesn't want to admit that he's the reason she’s about to watch her teacher, like, die. Not die. No one is going to die.

Ochachan snorts and then she shoves him a little. “You're lying, but I'll allow it, Kensei-chan. Lighten up a little on the bus ride or I'll actually start being worried about you, okay?”

“That's a reasonable compromise,” Mikumo replies, to the person who he is sending to death row. He tries to smile. “Your generosity knows no bounds, Ochachan.” Then he walks with her to class in a previously established routine, and Mikumo blinks while they silently trek the hallway, and he thinks, wait, are me and Ochachan friends? No, I can't just ask her that – what if she thinks we're friends and me asking her is an insult to our friendship? Oh, or the worse option – what if she doesn't think we're friends and me asking her is an insult to our strange little companionship? That would be funny. He does a contemptuous little snort to himself as they both walk in the classroom.

With sad eyes, he glares at the desk at the front of the classroom, surrounded by characters who don't exactly do much for the plot. Then Uraraka Ochako beams at him and he accepts his fate, sitting next to her and fucking Todoroki Shouto – oh god. His heart races. He's going to send them all to their – not their deaths. No one will die. No one will die! He's going to send them to something that will probably haunt their nightmares for weeks. No one will fucking die!!

Kaminari Denki is making a bet with Kirishima Eijirou about how many times Asui Tsuyu will say kero on the bus ride. Asui Tsuyu is blinking lazily, watching the both of them with faint amusement. Bakugou Katsuki's legs are on his desk, and Iida Tenya is scolding him, while Yaoyorozu Momo laughs quietly at them both. His heart races. He lowers his head so that he can't see any of it, and he thinks about fishing his headphones from his bag so he can blast death metal in his ears, if only so he won't have to bear hearing Ashido Mina's laughter knowing that he'll be the reason it disappears in – in a few hours.

Oh my god. He feels hot all over. His body feels like a scab that's healed improperly, and he wants to scratch himself all over to get rid of the uncomfortable sensation of growing wrong. His thoughts leak out of his ears at how much today matters, how much everything around him matters , and he… he… hysterically, he thinks once more: I'm not cut out for this. I'm going to die into pieces at the U.S.J.! A villain will saunter over to me and then make their arm very big like a hammer and squash me flat, and I'll wheeze in a really gross way but I won't be able to get up…

He sees himself, smashed on concrete, bleeding out. He does another sad little snort, like he's on a joke no one else is privy to, and then he wants to cry a little bit. He credits that to Midoriya Izuku. Speaking of –

“Midoriya Izuku,” someone says. His voice is cool, like ice water on a sunny day. Mikumo lifts his head. Todoroki Shouto gives him a hard, cold look, like Akatani Mikumo has secrets that he can unravel with just a look of the eye (brother, if only you knew!). “Are you ok?”

What? “I'm fine,” Mikumo says, confused. He looks down at his hand – oh, yeah, that'll do it. He hadn't felt anything, but he had been picking at his thumb all night and into the morning, so when he started biting at the scraps of dry, peeling skin on it, a bunch of blood just gushed out of it. “Ahh,” he says, embarrassed. His face feels warm and cold at the same time. He sticks his bloody thumb in his mouth and tastes iron. Blood on your hands already, Mikumo? “I – I'm fine. It doesn't hurt at all. It just – it looks bad. You know… like a head injury…?”

He wheezes at the end of his sentence, because trying to hold a conversation with Todoroki Shouto on the first day of a series of bad, bad days makes him want to throw up everywhere. Todoroki Shouto gives him a serious nod, and then turns to the front, because his savior Aizawa-sensei has popped out from his caterpillar sleeping bag again.

“Is it a caterpillar,” Uraraka Ochako whispers to him, “or a cocoon?”

“A caterpillar,” Mikumo replies, thumb still in his mouth. Uraraka Ochako looks at him funny, and he realizes that sucking your thumb is literally baby behavior. “Ahh.”

Aizawa-sensei explains the Unforeseen Simulation Joint again, like they haven't gone over it. He emphasizes the safety protocols that come with field trips, and says that he doesn't want anyone to cause any problems for Thirteen. Uraraka Ochako's eyes predictably light up, like they did the first time Aizawa-sensei mentioned Thirteen would be there, and it – it's cute, he supposes. Knowing Thirteen will almost die and then not be very significant to the story afterwards despite having a very cool ability sucks, and his heart drops like lead in a lake, but – but. He picks at his time, mindlessly hoping that he'll bleed again. But…

“Thirteen’s so cool,” Uraraka Ochako says. “She's one of my favorite heroes. I love their space theme. And how they're not afraid to be themselves, despite having an – unconventional body? Ah, Thirteen’s so cool. Kensei-chan , do you think they'll sign my arm?”

“Your arm ,” laughs Mikumo. It's hoarse and brittle and Uraraka Ochako glances at him like something is wrong with him. He goes for a smile to assuage her worries and seems to end up fretting her a little more instead. “I don't know,” he teases. He's – trying. “Maybe you should get it on your forehead instead.”

“My forehead isn't big enough,” Uraraka Ochako argues. Mikumo tries a small, smug smirk. He gets it first try because she flicks him, outraged.

It's nice. Is it nice? He doesn't know. Is it better or worse for Uraraka Ochako to like him? He doesn't know, he doesn't know…

What are you thinking about, Mikumo? Everyone will be fine. He shuffles into his kamishimo and keeps a tight grip on the sheath of his sword. “Oi, Midoriya! Are you feeling alright,” Kirishima Eijirou says, and he bends around to look at Mikumo's face. It must be deathly pale or horrified or scared or something, because he takes two steps back with a shocked expression and he pats Mikumo on the back softly. “Hey, man, it's gonna be fine. It's a simulation, yeah? No one'll hurt us or anything.” Then he leans in really close, like he's sharing a secret (bubbles pop in Mikumo's veins) and he says, “Plus, Bakubro's in a good mood, so I'll totally distract him the whoooole time for you.”

“Huh?” Mikumo says, snapping out of his blank stare at his open locker. He turns to Kirishima Eijirou with a guilty little smile. “I – why would you need to…”

“Oh, come on, man, it's not like I'm an idiot. He literally calls you useless all the time. You guys got bad blood – not my drama, but. You know! I hope it’s chill that I'm friends with both of you…?”

“No, it's – it's chill! I’m really glad you guys are –” are friends, like in the original. Are here. Are next to him. His next words matter and they feel heavy in his mouth, so he just grins a bit awkwardly and does a little so-so motion with his hands. Kirishima Eijirou either gets the idea or he doesn't at all, because Aizawa-sensei calls for them to stop slacking around in there, so they file out. And… and.

It hurts. It really does.

He’s spending too much time thinking about it, he knows. He knows it! On the bus ride he counts how many bumps there are and almost completely tunes out the class’s teasing jeers at Bakugou Katsuki for losing to the one quirkless guy in their class. It's good natured but it should still hurt, to be deprecated so hard that losing to him is a feat to be mocked over. If he were Midoriya Izuku, it might have hurt to be underestimated, but – but it’s good. He probably should have lost because apparently it’s a big enough thing for his classmates to be talking about it, but it's okay. It's okay. Just breathe. It'll be fine. No one will die.

He counts the bumps. There are 54 in all. He almost falls asleep with his eyes open, and he doesn't know if that's a good sign or not, because when he was – well, when he was not Midoriya Izuku, he would only sleep with his eyes open when he was very stressed, or physically ill. And he shouldn't be stressed, he thinks, as Uraraka Ochako shakes his arm in an attempt to stir any emotion in him as she points to Thirteen and mumbles excitedly about her being so cool. But his head is mindless, and the sun beats down on him, and…

He can't hear anything. He can't hear anything at all. His thoughts pour out of his ears… and they must fully drip out, because for all the time he's spent wanting to puke over this very moment – for all that time, he's surprisingly and welcomingly thoughtless the moment he sees a warp gate ebb and flow in the middle of the lobby. It's okay, he thinks. Nakamura-sensei has been harping on you more because you're in hero school, so you can probably fight three or four villains without being overwhelmed. As per the novel, you'll predictably be dropped somewhere with at least one other person – which is great. It's fine. You can repent by doing something that isn't sitting around and watching.

The Noumu, hulking and as thoughtless as him, stumbles from the warp gate. Villains pour out of it, all with predictably mob antagonist faces – mischievous and evil with no real depth to their motives, just the promise of money and watching All Might fall.

“What…?” says Uraraka Ochako. “Are – are those –”

“Villains,” Aizawa-sensei says. “Stay back, everyone.” In a very cool, respectable motion, he flips his goggles on to hide his Erasure. “Can anyone contact the school?”

“I tried, Eraserhead. They've jammed the electrical signals in here,” says Kyouka Jirou, with a cool, collected voice. This is nothing, because her face is pale and her hands are shaking as she dials 110 again and again and her phone goes immediately to voicemail. “I can't call my mom or my dad or even the police.”

“Thirteen,” Aizawa-sensei says. 

Akatani Mikumo knows this conversation. He knows all of this. It's a bit comforting, actually. Even with all of the unpredictability that comes with a self-insert fanfiction, events like these are reliable in being generally the same at the same critical moments – the Battle Trial, though changed, remained the same layout, as well as the entrance exams and Todoroki Shouto's quirk. Because Akatani Mikumo is a side character, nothing particularly significant will change. His classmates will not blame him for running to the entrance with all of the others who are too weak to contribute to the battle, because he is quirkless. And then he can watch as All Might flies in to save the day, and it will be a further inspiration for Todoroki Shouto to improve his abilities, seeing as All Might is being targeted while losing time more and more each day.

Someone talks to Iida Tenya. Thirteen attempts to black hole Kurogiri and ends up inadvertently killing themself. Akatani Mikumo knows all of this by heart, and so –

So he smiles.

Everything's okay, he thinks. What was I worried about anyway? I know how this story goes.

He turns his head to look at the crowd of villains again.

Everything's okay, he thinks. And his eye catches on a girl with messy blonde hair, arranged into two buns with bangs that cover her forehead. She's carrying a kitchen knife with her, and her yellow eyes are looking up at his classmates. They both catch each other's eyes, and she pats her school uniform down like she's trying to look presentable. She stares at him with a look that he can't decipher, and then – then she… she waves at him, something frantic and desperate. Akatani Mikumo’s smile drops. Kurogiri's warp gate allows him to sink into the floor.

His heartbeat is loud in his ears.

It has to be true. Everyone should be okay.

It has to be true. It has to be, so why is – why is it – why is this happening? Why can he see Toga Himiko, wide eyed and waving at him, holding a knife in her other hand? She's not supposed to be here. She's such a significant character that he would have known if she showed up in the U.S.J., even if it was by sneaky mention – a girl with blonde, tied up hair, maybe, or a murderous high-schooler with a knife. Why is she here? It's not right. No one will die. It's not right. The sun beats down on him, makes his pores breathe and gets his skin all prickly. Sweat drips from his hairline. 

His hand is against his hilt as he's dropped in a secluded area.

What? No, this isn't right either. His breathing picks up. He's supposed to be with – with Asui Tsuyu and Mineta Minoru, or with Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou. Or even getting blasted with 1.2 million volts of energy up his core by an erratic Kaminari Denki. He'd rather be there.

There's no one around. He's in sight of the lobby. Careless. It's careless. It's probably because he's quirkless, but – but it's not like he can fucking do anything, even as he watches his teacher fight in the crowd. His hand trembles on the hilt.

He can't do a goddamn thing. He's quirkless, and he's especially weak compared to his classmates. If the Noumu goes after him, he'll just – he'll just die, a pathetic little red splat on the ground like when a fly runs into your car’s front window while you're speeding down the highway. And then the show is over, and the game is over, and – god damn, the sun is beating over him. He can't hear anything. His thoughts leak from his ears, slow and loving like lava, and – and, uselessly (because he can't do a goddamn thing), he takes a step forward on the rocky terrain.

Someone catches his wrist. He swings his sword as fast as he possibly can iaido iaido iaido , and his assailant hisses in pain as her side is shallowly cut into. “Ow, what the fuck!”

“Oh, fu-uck,” Akatani Mikumo says. Toga Himiko, with wild eyes, stares back at him. Her school uniform begins to stain red from where he’s drawn blood, and her grip leaves his arm – instinctively, he jumps back and points his sword towards her. He tries to school his voice into something calm and controlled but he can't because it's fucking Toga Himiko , and for once he thinks the thought of I'm going to die here is completely, utterly justified. Toga Himiko presses her free hand into her wound. “What – what do you want, villain?”

“Wait – wait, wait, wait,” Toga Himiko says, and then she sucks in a little breath. “That really hurt. Sorry, I – wait.” She does a tiny breath in and out, and then she drops to her knees, whimpering. “I have s-something to say! So – so don't kill me, please…”

“It –” Akatani Mikumo furrows his eyebrows. His hands are shaking so badly that he wants to throw up. “It was supposed to hurt. You – you're a villain.” He tries to sound like he doesn't know her, but he doesn't think it works. She looks up at him.

“Wait, are – are you –” she shakily points her knife up at him. “Are you real? Midoriya Izuku? Y-You – I thought you were supposed to… supposed to…”

“Supposed to what ,” Mikumo hisses. He's sick of her already. He should just repent and kill her right now so she isn't bothersome later. He should just kill her. He raises his sword, and she begins to cry, begging for her life. His grip on his hilt tightens. If he swung down, right now, he would probably crack her skull open and cut her head in half vertically. Or he could assure that she dies by slicing her head off – yeah, that's what a kensei would do. Decapitate her. Kill her. He has to kill her. He already let U.S.J. happen, and it's already so wrong because she's here, so if he just gets rid of her – if he just gets rid of her, because she's ruining his fucking fanfiction –

…

Something's off.

When Akatani Mikumo interacts with real people, he gets this – this funny feeling inside of him, telling him something . He hasn't decided if it's to let him know that he doesn't belong or if it's to bring gratification that he's alive and real, but it happens when Uraraka Ochako calls him Kensei-chan and when Todoroki Shouto shoots him looks from beside him. And he had felt it, too, when Shigaraki Tomura scratched against his dry skin and declared that he would draw All Might out by murdering children , and he had felt it coiling in his stomach when Kurogiri's warp gate touched him.

…so why… is he not feeling it now?

He must be insane, because he laughs sharply with his blade against her neck, and he asks, “are you real?”

Toga Himiko's eyes widen again. She drops her knife, hiccuping and gasping. “No, I'm not!”

“Then what the fuck are you,” says Akatani Mikumo. “Why the fuck are you here? What the fuck do you want, Toga Himiko?”

“I – I needed –” Toga Himiko scrambles, “I needed to tell someone. I needed to get – get help, and I didn't know how else to do it – I was scared, okay!? When I woke up, I was already in their stupid fucking evil lair or whatever the fuck and everyone was already – already – and, and –” she heaves sobs between gasps, and her entire body shakes, but she doesn't move because Akatani Mikumo's sword is still against her. And he thinks he's finally improving his intimating state, because she starts talking faster when he narrows his eyes. “I – I came from another place! I came from – from Japan, but it was different, and this place was – was a story, and, and – and I know what happens in the U.S.J., and about A-All For One and Todoroki, and –”

And then Toga Himiko tells him exactly how she's not real.

Takeyama Yu is 16 years old, and she is probably the most normal girl alive. 

She has three brothers who annoy her to no end, a mother who loves her very much, and a father who also loves her a lot but he's always out on business trips. Fortunately, unlike all of those garbage dramas, no one in the family holds it against their father, because they know he is very faithful, and loyal, and he wants to provide for all of them. So they are all simply happy when he visits occasionally, even if the visits are sporadic.

Takeyama Yu lives in a two-story home with no yard, and she walks to school every day with her stupid 17 year old brother, Takeyama Masato. During the morning walk he always finds some stupid joke to make about anything; usually, it's a pun around whatever they see on their walk. Takeyama Masato is large and bulky but he has his hair properly trimmed and he wears a clunky set of spectacles that makes everyone call him a big ol’ nerd anyway. All of the Takeyama siblings share their mother's eyes and their father's strange sense of humor. And it is nice, living like that.

And Takeyama Yu is happy.

She lives a perfectly normal life. Nothing is particularly wrong with her life. She goes to school and does decently well on her academics, and then after school she destroys lame nerds in chess, and they all boo and/or leer at her because she is a small, petite girl with brown hair and an unassuming look about her, something that doesn't strike anyone as a chess master. But she is happy. She has never been in trouble, and has never had a girlfriend nor a boyfriend even though she thinks she swings both ways. Her parents have never fought once, and even though her brothers are stupid, she forgives them for everything they do eventually.

She wants to be a stay-at-home mom when she grows up even though she knows her mother would disapprove of her depending so much on a man (or woman!) to provide for her. It's funny, because her mother is a stay-at-home mom, and then they both laugh and laugh about it. She is completely normal. Everything is completely normal. She is completely normal.

One day during summer break, she is scrolling through her computer when she finds a forum complaining about the ending of a long-running light novel, My Hero Academia. She, with nothing else to do, decides to check it out, and finds that it was longer than she expected. It'll be fine, she thinks, because I have all of the time in the world to read all of it. The premise hooks her anyway – a world where everyone receives special powers growing up, and the coming-of-age story of an abused boy with an already overpowered quirk obtaining an even more overpowered quirk? She is a secret enthusiast of overpowered protagonists, being a fan of some isekais and shounens and such.

The shounen-style pacing and the clumsily written Japanese endears her, a bit. She continues to read. She reads about Todoroki Shouto, who is handsome and boyish with a cool face and an inner darkness. She reads about Bakugou Katsuki who she doesn't particularly like but puts up with anyway. She reads about Uraraka Ochako, who is obnoxiously girly. She reads about Yaoyorozu Momo, who is cute but fanserviced. She reads about Todoroki Shouto's decision to save the life of a boy trapped in a slime villain's clutches, and Toshinori Yagi's eventful past and eventual passage of his quirk.

She reads about the entrance exam, the quirk apprehension test, the battle trial. She reads about the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, the Sports Festival, and the Hero Killer. She watches Todoroki Shouto's icy persona melt away in the presence of people who care for him. She reads about the Final Exams, and then she reads about the Forest Camp Training Arc, and she meets her favorite character.

Her name is Toga Himiko, and she is delightfully insane.

Takeyama Yu has never felt reason enough to go through with killing a person. Harboring dark thoughts is normal for her, and she knows that the things she thinks would have her disowned and maybe locked in a little asylum, too. Whenever a boy in chess club makes a groping motion at her chest, she stares blankly at him and thinks about peeling his fingernails off one by one until he begs for her to stop, crying and having pissed himself. She thinks of stealing a shotgun if only to see the blown out brains of the class president, who won't stop flirting with her.

So, obviously, crazy girls in anime and manga and shows are totally her type.

She likes horror movies where the antagonist is a crazy girl on drugs ramming chainsaws into her victims. When she's got broken glass in her eye and she's stabbing her husband over and over and over. She's always thought those actresses looked better covered in blood. And Toga Himiko is very cute, too, with her infatuated mannerisms. It feels less like Todoroki Shouto's pseudo-harem is growing and more like he'd attracted the attention of a shark and his feet are dangling in the water, waiting to get out.

She likes Toga Himiko a lot. She rereads the battle between the two over and over. She creates a forum post to explain that she's not far into the story, but her favorite character so far is Toga Himiko, and she is accused of liking crazy bitches and whatnot. Well, it's true, so she can't complain.

“Mom,” Takeyama Yu's stupid brother Takao asks, with a small smile. “What's for dinner?”

“It's grilled fish, honey, I told you that,” their mother says, and then several men break into their house with metal bats and sharp knives.

Really, it all happens so fast. So fast that Takeyama Yu cannot even mourn the bodies of her brothers in front of her, bludgeoned and then bled to death. Quietly, like a doll, she watches the men do their work, while cursing that this wasn't supposed to get messy. Get messy? Takeyama Yu's mouth curves into a sardonic, dry smile. Her youngest brother, Kei, is 7 years old, and he is dead. Takao is 12 years old, and he is dead. Masato wanted to go to university for engineering, and now he is dead, too, his skull smashed across the table. Wow! Thinks Takeyama Yu, as her mother screams her name and dies as well.

Then they turn on her.

Takeyama Yu is the very epitome of a normal girl. She has good manners and doesn't get into fights because she is delicate, like a flower. She wants to scream and beat the shit out of most people who talk to her, but she never does, because she's normal. Is something wrong with me? She doesn't feel anything at all, like her thoughts just up and walked out of her head, too tired to deal with the mess happening in front of her. And then they bash her head in with a bat, and they rattle her brain so hard that it makes her feel real things again. Yay!

It hurts.

It hurts so badly that she finally does scream, and she cries, and she curls in on herself as the sound of footsteps retreats further into her home. It hurts so very badly that she wishes Masato would pick her up and tell her not to worry, or maybe Takao would disinfect her wounds with peroxide, or maybe Kei would sing a loud song for her to distract her. Ah, yes, she can hear him now – how silly she was, to think he had died.

Yes. She can hear him now.

If only he would sing a little louder.

Just a bit louder.

Almost there, Kei!

Almost –

“Something must be wrong with me,” Toga Himiko, otherwise secretly known as Takeyama Yu confesses, crying. Her hand is covered in blood, and she kneels at Midoriya Izuku's feet, as if searching for repentance. As if he can deliver it unto her. “Something's… wrong with me… and I… I saw the files for all of the students, and I told them to let me fight you alone, to – to prove myself, because you're just a quirkless kid, and – and I was hoping you were like me – because –”

Midoriya Izuku doesn't know what to say. Akatani Mikumo doesn't either. He glances behind him.

Aizawa-sensei is still fighting. From other areas, his classmates begin to surround the battle. Most of them scramble for the entrance. They haven't reached the peak yet. The sun beats down on them from the glass enclosure, and Toga Himiko's head has beads of sweat dripping down. She sobs. “What's wrong with me, Midoriya-kun?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” says Akatani Mikumo. And then he thinks of killing her anyway.

Bizarrely, he dreams of taking his sword and slicing it through her neck. Cull a villain. Save a hero. Takeyama Yu should not be here anyway – she might disrupt the flow of the story, with her meddling. She has. She doesn't even know the entire narrative, only up to one insignificant part – who knows what else she might mess up from merely existing? Now, a plot point in the provisional licensing exam is gone. Now, there is one less person to cry over Magne's corpse. Now, there is one less character.

His fanfiction might be ruined, if Toga Himiko isn't there to help the League of Villains. Isn't that a transgression? Shouldn't he kill her for it?

Then he thinks, what?

He doesn't – he can't decide whether to kill people based on how much they'll affect his… especially if they're people like Takeyama Yu, who is relying on him heavily, sobbing at his feet like he has the answers that she's not privy to. Then he realizes he does – he knows the ending of the story. The shitty timeskip that made him crunch his phone under his foot. He knows more about this world than she does. Knows more about what will happen. To her, he's… he's kind of a God, actually. Ahaha… What's wrong with him, really?

His veins bubble up and pop like small explosions inside his wrists. His breathing is calm now. It's okay. Everything is okay. The girl at his feet may be destroying everything, but it'll be alright. It's up to Akatani Mikumo to fix it. He's good at fixing things that should be broken. It's why he was given this opportunity, after all. 

“Get up, Takeyama Yu,” he says. His voice isn't shaking anymore, but it is hoarse, and she stands up with a limp, clutching her wound. Her sleeve, too, is drenched with red. She looks at him hopefully. Please don't look at me like that. “I'll tell you my story later. We might be running out of time to –” he swallows. “Save Aizawa-sensei,” he says, but he doesn't mean that because he can't do anything. Her desperate face morphs into something hard and determined.

“Yes – yeah, you're right. He was one of my favorite heroes when I was reading,” she says. Her voice is also crackly from crying. “I'm sorry for – for taking up so much time, I –”

“Fucking whatever,” Akatani Mikumo snaps. She doesn't flinch, even though he was on the verge of murdering her for existing a few moments ago. It makes him a little angry. “We're going, okay? Don't get in m – Todoroki Shouto's way.”

Her eyes are just a bit blank when she nods. “Lead the way, Midoriya-kun.”

Akatani Mikumo hesitates.

“My name,” he tries, and he drags his tongue along the dry roof of his mouth as he turns on his heel and begins to run towards where he sees Mineta Minoru and Asui Tsuyu camping out, waiting for Aizawa-sensei to be alright , “...call me Kensei. It's my hero name.”

Takeyama Yu nods. “Call me Himiko,” she says, quietly. “Please.”

And because Akatani Mikumo is stressed, and his hands are shaking, and the Noumu is looking to the side, and Aizawa-sensei is starting to lose against the villains and Shigaraki Tomura is starting to get impatient and the sun is bearing down on him, beating the ritual drums of sacrifice – “I'll call you Himichan instead.”

“Yuck,” says Himichan.

What the fuck is going on?

They run to Asui Tsuyu and Mineta Minoru, crouched in grass near the central plaza. There are so many villains that none of them particularly notice nor care about their presence, but Asui Tsuyu's eyes light up when he comes. Then she looks behind him to see the bleeding Himiko and she shoots a questioning look at Mikumo. “I don't have time to explain it fully, but she's on our side. She was –” he rolls his tongue – “kidnapped by one of the villains and she managed to convince them that she was evil so she could get help here.”

“I see,” Asui Tsuyu says. “Why is she bleeding?”

Mikumo looks at her like she's an idiot. “I stabbed her,” he says. Mineta Minoru's hands begin to tremble a bit more, and Mikumo cannot, for the life of him, figure out why, because Aizawa-sensei isn't even struggling that bad yet. It's bad, but it isn't that bad , really.

“Oh, of course,” Asui Tsuyu replies, calmly. “You stabbed her.”

“What's going on,” Toga Himiko says, with a wet sniffle. And, like normal, Todoroki Shouto appears too, as silent as a cat preying on a mouse. Akatani Mikumo only knows he approaches from the tingling in his gut, the worms that writhe in his stomach, and suddenly the sun is beating down on him again. Todoroki Shouto sticks his head in between Asui Tsuyu and Akatani Mikumo, watchimg their teacher, and he – very coolly – says, “Midoriya-kun.”

What? “Um,” Mikumo sniffs. For some reason, he's a bit irritated. Toga Himiko trembles behind him with a hand on his shoulder, eyes taken by Aizawa-sensei's movements. Aizawa-sensei kicks a villain, wraps his capture tape around another. It's such a – a flurry of movement. And Mikumo can't do anything, because getting in Aizawa-sensei's way would – it would mean he dies. Isn't this the perfect moment? He can watch everything close up, like a 3D movie. Belatedly he remembers Todoroki Shouto is looking at him coldly, and his stomach does two flips that make him nauseous. He watches Mineta Minoru break off from their party to scramble to the entrance. “I – yes?”

“At the beginning, when the villains appeared,” Todoroki Shouto says, assessing him. He narrows his eyes. “Why did you smile?”

Ah.

Ah…

His heart drops. His breathing picks up, and Toga Himiko's hand squeezes tightly against his shoulder. Todoroki Shouto briefly turns to Asui Tsuyu – “who is she?” and Asui Tsuyu explains it bluntly. Todoroki Shouto turns back to him. “I had my doubts about you. You…” he looks at Asui Tsuyu again and shakes his head, leans closer to Mikumo – his breath is cold, and he can feel it against his too-warm skin, because the sun is beating down on him. “You know about him and his time limit.”

Ah…

“Do I,” Mikumo says. His thoughts – they – they just leave him, and his mouth just moves. He doesn't even know what he's saying, but it's not – Izuku isn't even – “We don't have time for this, Todoroki Shouto. Our sensei is fucking dying. C-Can you interrogate me afterwards?”

Todoroki Shouto gives him a little shocked look, with his mouth slightly open and his brows very furrowed in both frustration and confusion. Mikumo tries to smile. It probably doesn't land. Toga Himiko's hand on his shoulder burns more than Todoroki Shouto's gaze on him, and he can't think about anything at all because Todoroki Shouto is entirely too close. And then his gaze hardens. “You're right,” he says, “but if you have… dubious intentions, then –”

“I don't,” Mikumo cuts him off. He turns back to Aizawa-sensei. “Stop asking.”

This is so bad. Because of a stupid mistake – wrong place, wrong time! – Todoroki Shouto is suspicious of him. And he really doesn't fucking need this right now, not when he's already saddled with fucking Toga Himiko, not when he can see the exact moment Aizawa-sensei’s eyes linger too long on Shigaraki Tomura.

“Is he going to die for real?” Toga Himiko says. “I can't watch if he does. I might be sick.”

“If you're sick, just hold on to me and throw up on my shoes,” says Akatani Mikumo, muttering. His hands are shaking so badly, but he pats the grip Toga Himiko has on his shoulder anyway. It's so tight that he thinks it might bruise later. “Then, later, you'll owe me a new pair of shoes, so I'll extort you f-for all you're worth.”

“You suck,” Toga Himiko says. Aizawa-sensei's shoulder melts away under Shigaraki Tomua's hand. “I’m – I’m going to puke now.” And then she does. And Shigaraki Tomura calls his Noumu.

I want to watch, he had said. But he closes his eyes as the blur of black raises a single hand and wins the fight in a single second. There are three small gasps of horror. Regret sinks deep into his core, and he cracks an eye open, and he's sure that Aizawa-sensei is dead.

There is the horrible sound of crunching bone. There is the smell of blood and sweat and desperation clawing at the edges of a cage. There is Toga Himiko, with a hand holding his shoulder  – strangely, her eyes lack the tears that she bawled earlier. Asui Tsuyu's eyes are wet and she hiccups, once, before slapping her hands over her mouth, too. Todoroki Shouto looks torn between hopping in and staying put, but his eyes are horrified too. And there is another beating. And there is another beating. The sun drums up a rhythm that the Noumu can mercilessly beat Aizawa-sensei's head in the ground to. It's… it's like music, the steady sound of rocks breaking and skulls cracking and…

How could I have let this happen? They slam his corpse down one, two, three times. His lifeless eyes stare directly at Akatani Mikumo. Four, five, six. He grabs the hilt of his sword. Seven, eight, nine…

Shigaraki Tomura scratches his neck as Kurogiri materializes next to him casually, with the poise of a well-trained bodyguard. Shigaraki Tomura gives a brief glance to him. “Did you kill Thirteen,” he says, in a dull, giddy voice, while he marks red violent lines into his skin.

“Thirteen is out of commission,” Kurogiri says. “But a hero student has escaped the facility. We are soon to be compromised.”

Iida Tenya, Akatani Mikumo’s mind reminds him. He breathes the tiniest sigh of – relief? No, not really, not when he can see his teacher’s blood splattered against broken concrete. The Noumu’s eyes are lifeless, bulging out of the socket, and maybe Toga Himiko had the right idea about being sick. Fuck! Fuck!!

It should be good news. Shigaraki Tomura says he'll leave, petulantly, like a child being forced to do homework instead of play video games. And then he turns to the four of them, and his eyes don't even recognize Toga Himiko. And… and…

He does nothing. Can't do anything. Of course, he does nothing at all. Asui Tsuyu even looks like she wants to do something because their teacher is dead. (No, he's not. He's alive). But Akatani Mikumo is not cut out for this. He is a cowardly, sniveling boy who prefers the comfort of a spectators seat. What was he thinking, assuming everything would be fine? If Aizawa-sensei dies here, then – then…

…

Then what the fuck was this all for, then –

Akatani Mikumo is warm. He is surrounded by his friends. The sun beats down on all of them, making their faces flush red. Akatani Mikumo laughs at Uraraka Ochako's extra red cheeks, and she pinches him and says his are even more.

Akatani Mikumo is tall and gangly, with lithe muscles and dark hair that he tries very hard to wrestle into an appropriate style every month, even though it always ends up the same; tangled and messy, falling over one eye. He's a natural at kendo, and he's the best kendōka his school has right now. He knows it and he's proud of it.

And it's his birthday.

“I'm so proud of you, Mikumo,” says Todoroki Shouto. He takes Akatani Mikumo's face into his hands. And then he smiles, small and cool, like ice being dropped into his mouth and against his back. It sends nervous shivers up his spine. “Do you know that? You're the best kendōka in your school. Maybe even in the whole district. Even though your mother hates you, we still love you, and we're proud of you.”

“Ahh, you make me blush,” Akatani Mikumo replies, but his smile is boyish and youthful and happy, and he holds Todoroki Shouto's cold fingers in his hand. With dewy eyes, he rocks forward until he's completely comforted in Todoroki Shouto's grip. “Thank you all so much. You saved me. I love you, Todoroki Shouto.”

Todoroki Shouto says nothing in reply. His eyes are cold, and the sun is beating down on him.

“I came all this fucking way,” Shigaraki Tomura says. He scratches at his neck furiously, until his dry skin turns into red, burning lines across his flesh. His fingernails become dirty with collections of skin cells and blood. He makes disheveled groaning noises of pain, breathing harshly. No one moves. No one breathes. Shigaraki Tomura's shoulders drop. “Hmmm… okay. Kurogiri, we're gonna leave.”

“Yes, Shigaraki Tomura,” Kurogiri says.

“But – but before,” says Shigaraki Tomura. “I want to – I want to do something… I already killed their sensei, but wouldn't it be better if – unnh, ghh…” he digs his nails into the wounds on his neck, hunching over. “I want to kill a kid, Kurogiri. I want to kill at least one. Maybe two, maybe three, maybe four…” He turns towards their group. His eyes aren't visible, but if Akatani Mikumo imagines them, he thinks they're curved up in depraved, sick joy. “Eheh… eeny, meeny, miney, mo…”

They're immobilized. Shigaraki Tomura walks towards them. Todoroki Shouto looks like he'll move, but Asui Tsuyu hiccups in distress and then he stays put again. Everyone just – just watches, as Shigaraki Tomura walks towards them. All of them flicker their eyes between Shigaraki Tomura approaching with an outstretched hand, giggling in deranged glee, and they look at the Noumu behind him too, with a hand grasped in Aizawa-sensei's hair.

None of us can do anything. That's the way it's supposed to be. Akatani Mikumo knows exactly what will happen. Shigaraki Tomura will reach his hand towards Asui Tsuyu and touch her face with five fingers, and Aizawa-sensei's eye will burn bright red before it's slammed into the concrete again, and then they will have all the time in the world because All Might will appear shortly after. He knows the script. He knows what he has to do – nothing. He has to do nothing. He has to…

Shigaraki Tomura's hand reaches for her. Akatani Mikumo flicks his eyes towards Aizawa-sensei.

…

They're… not open.

What the fuck? They're not open? They should be, by now, right? That's not – that's not…!

Akatani Mikumo sucks in a breath. Toga Himiko whines. This is probably all her fault, he thinks. She ruined the script so much that Aizawa-sensei actually died here, and now…

Now…

…

Todoroki Shouto's arm becomes encased in ice, but Todoroki Shouto doesn't know iaido techniques. 

The hand reaching for Asui Tsuyu never comes. It falls to the ground wetly, separated in a clean, even cut from the wrist.

This is all our fault. Me and Toga Himiko. He flicks the blood off of his katana and stands up. Toga Himiko's hand slides off of him, leaving a groaning ache on his shoulders, something that's probably red underneath his kamishimo.  

Why did he do that? Even if he never did anything – even if Aizawa-sensei never opened his eyes, Todoroki Shouto would have taken care of it. Akatani Mikumo should have let him take care of it. 

Because Akatani Mikumo shouldn't make a scene like this, with one of the main antagonists of the series – he shouldn't even fucking be here. He should have taken Toga Himiko, who was already bleeding, to the entrance, and they both should have waited for everything to play out exactly  how it should have.

Why did he…?

He can't hear anything. His hand is still on the hilt of his sword, drawn towards Shigaraki Tomura's bleeding wrist.

“What… the fuck…” Shigaraki Tomura says, blankly. Then, louder – “you cut off my fucking hand?”

Pfft. Akatani Mikumo is so ready to die that he smiles a little at that. Honestly, no one is ever ready to die, but what else would happen? This isn't the outcome that was meant for him, so that means he dies.

Ahh, he doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to be ready, ahh, ahh…

“I don't know why I did that,” Mikumo admits. His voice is so quiet. He waits for something to happen. “Everything would have been fine in the end, even if I didn't.”

He can feel everyone gazing at him. He can't meet any of their eyes, because his is trained on the Noumu’s.

“I guess,” Mikumo says, and worms writhe in his stomach, which curls in on himself, and insects crawl around his organs and make him want to gag, “I just got scared. Because Aizawa-sensei didn't erase your quirk…”

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” Shigaraki Tomura growls. He clutches the arm around his newly severed hand, and he screams in agony as the shock probably starts to wear off and the pain starts to, you know, fucking hurt. A small part of Akatani Mikumo is even proud of himself – if Nakamura-senseI knew he had such good control to cleanly slice a hand off, she'd buy him katsudon forever. Ahaha… I'll kill you, you stupid fucking brat –” he clutches the bloody stump that used to hold his hand with four fingers. “I'll – I’ll kill you! You motherfucker! I'll kill you…! ”

“Eek,” Mikumo says. He feels like nothing at all. “Can you at least call me Kensei-sama while I die?”

The sun is beating down on him. A black blur whizzes past him. Faintly, he realizes everyone is calling his name. 

Ah… maybe, he thinks, incredulously, maybe I might finally do what I'm supposed to do, which is die.

I should have died at the beginning. The fanfiction was ruined from the moment I starred in it, wasn't it?

A pressure starts in his stomach, and he keeps his grip on his katana as his body becomes weightless. He knows that he's been hit by the Noumu so hard to make a disgusting cracking noise pop in all of his pathetic little ribs, but he doesn't process it until he's midair with blood streaming down his chin and upper lip. He thinks he might be crying. Or he might not be, and that's just sweat. He doesn't know. Everything becomes a blur, and the sun beats down on him, and…

He flies through the air and then slams against rubble.

It hurts.

It hurts so badly that he wants to cry. His hand flexes around nothing – he must have dropped his sword. His heart beats erratically in his chest, and – it hurts. It hurts so much that it burns his entire body unpleasantly, a stabbing pain and an aching pain and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts . He's never been so in pain before, even during middle school. He's never had his consciousness flicker wetly in his eyes, never felt the raw desperation of holding on to the string connecting his body to his soul. Someone else is pulling with him, a fucked up tug-of-war game, and…

It hurts. Fuck. It hurts. Fuck!! It hurts!! Please save me!!! Can I pass out?! It hurts!!!!

“Midoriya!” shouts Todoroki Shouto.

“ Izuku! ” shouts Asui Tsuyu.

“ Kensei! ” shouts Toga Himiko.

…

Ah…

Ah, wait!

Akatani Mikumo is smiling.

In this moment, where he is dying because he is weak enough to die after being punched by a Noumu, he feels happy. His favorite characters are screaming his name because they care about him. Even Toga Himiko, who helped him ruin everything, is scared for him. It’s really…

It's…

It's really great !!!

He laughs. It's really great!! He loves them all so much!!! If only he wasn't dying, here – he wants to be closer to all of his favorite characters!! He wants them to cry over his dead body!! Is anyone visiting his grave in the real world? No way!! His mom? His classmates, who barely cared about him?? Maybe a few members of the old kendo team?? Haha!! But here – here, where he is a side character doomed to die – here, they all shout his name with the burning determination of screaming for someone to miraculously survive something!! The Noumu should have hit him again, but out of the clear spots in his vision he can see that Todoroki Shouto has frozen it temporarily, and… and…!!!

It's really great!!! Please love me more and more!!!! I love all of you so, so much!!!! I think if I died here, I'd be okay!!!!!!!

Stop saying that, says a tiny voice in his head. It doesn't sound like his inner monologue. You're not going to die!! But he can't feel the sun on him anymore. And it's so easy to stop trying, while feeling the best he's ever felt, even while it hurts so badly that he wants to die faster. Please, please, please, let him die faster. Let him stay in this world of loving feelings. If he dies here, he'll never leave that thought: all of them care about me, here!!! – Stop it!!! I already said I want to live!!! I regret it, so stop!!! It's so easy to just – accept it, really. He fucked up. The punishment is death. And he is going to die. Stop it!!!!

Blissfully, full of fuzzy emotions, Akatani Mikumo closes his eyes.

…

…

…

…

“Izuchan,” Akatani Mikumo says, quietly. “Wake up! It's your birthday.”

Midoriya Izuku blinks his tired eyes open. He stares at a doppelganger who looks at him with somehow more disheveled hair than he does. His doppelganger's eyes are green but now they look black, in the darkness of his room at 6 in the morning. His eyebags are heavy. He's wearing his kendo outfit – a red hakama over a white kimono. He's smiling. His smiles are always kind of weird, like he's not really smiling at all, but he tries very hard to make it normal. Midoriya Izuku doesn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

“Okay,” Midoriya Izuku says. He doesn't get out of bed. He adds: “it's our birthday,” and Akatani Mikumo's mouth twitches a little like he's trying to suppress a complaint or maybe even a laugh. “I'm not gonna go unless you say it's yours, too.”

“But Izuchan,” Akatani Mikumo says. “I don't want to celebrate my birthday anymore. I…” His face splits into a genuine grin. It's even scarier than all of the fake smiles he wears all of the time. “I don't need to, anymore!”

“Why?” says Midoriya Izuku, because he is 13 years old and Akatani Mikumo is 15 and so Akatani Mikumo is smarter than him for most things. “Birthdays should always be celebrated, even when you're really old.”

“Because I'm happy now, Izuchan,” Akatani Mikumo replies. “I'm super happy, so I don't need to celebrate anything anymore! Whenever I celebrate my birthday, it's all sad and lonely, but – it doesn't – I'm not either of those… so I don't need it!”

“Why?”

“Why?” Akatani Mikumo's face shutters, like he's remembering something horrible. Then the grin is back. He plants his hands on Midoriya Izuku's bed and leans closer to him, a manic craze in his eyes. “Because I have everyone who I could ever want, right here!! I can touch them, and say hi to them, and I can even befriend them!! If I stay a side character forever, I'll be happy. And side characters don't get birthdays!!! So –”

“Side characters can get birthdays.”

“You don't get it. I get to –” Akatani Mikumo laughs. “I get to be there, with them!! I get to see everything with my own eyes, instead of reading it on my phone…! I don't have to pretend that they're all there with me, anymore – because they are !! They're –”

“Mikumo,” Midoriya Izuku says. Akatani Mikumo freezes. “You're not a very good person, are you.”

“...ah,” Akatani Mikumo replies. He smiles a little. It's the fake one again. “I guess I'm not. But that's okay, right? Because I'm going to be a hero anyway, so I – I can be a little selfish here, right?”

“I guess,” says Midoriya Izuku, shrugging. He stares at Akatani Mikumo. “But if you're going to be a hero because you love all of your classmates and even all of the villains, too, then can you stop lying and saying that it's for me?”

…

…

Am I alive?

He flexes his fingers. It only hurts a little bit. He tries to clear his throat. That hurts a lot, so he stops. His mind is full of blank, meaningless things. He smiles, because all of his favorite characters care about him.

Akatani Mikumo is 15 years old. He wakes up in a hospital bed, bundled in thin covers and struggling to breathe. He probably shouldn't talk, because the bandages he feels around his torso mean that his ribs were probably taken out. But he's so, so tired, and he hasn't used his voice in so long.

“Uuuhhhaahh,” Akatani Mikumo groans, because he is a motherfucker. “Am I alive?”

“You are such a motherfucker,” says Uraraka Ochako, with tears in her eyes. “Are you?! Are you alive, Izuku?! Oh my god, I was so worried –” Akatani Mikumo slowly turns his head towards her, which jostles his stomach a little and makes pain shoot up his spine, just so he can see Uraraka Ochako sob into her hands, sitting in a chair next to his sleeping mother and a sleeping Toga Himiko. “Oh my god, you're so mean to –” she sniffles, “you're the worst Kensei-sama in the world!”

“Oh, fuck, please stop crying,” says Akatani Mikumo. Every word hurts. He continues on, hoping that he won't hurt himself more despite doing everything to hurt himself more. “I'm sorry, I didn't – I wasn't thinking, I just saw Tsuchan about to get hurt and I –”

“I can't even be mad at you because – because I saw it, I was watching and you – you saved her, you saved her, you're so stupid, I can't believe you did that, you saved her thank you oh my god –”

“Ochachan,” Mikumo mumbles. “I'm sorry. I really… I didn't mean to almost die… I just…” he sighs. “I didn't… want to watch that happen to Tsuchan. I just – leapt up. Out of instinct. I really am a terrible Kensei-sama . Did –” he swallows. “Is Aizawa-sensei…?”

“He's fine, ” Ochako shouts. Relief floods his pitter-pattering heart. Why the fuck was he worried? He knew Aizawa-sensei would be okay in the end, even though he hadn't done what he was supposed to do. It was fine. Everything is fine , and he doesn't need to worry about anything. Despite himself, he smiles just a little bit at how silly he had been, rushing into danger as if Aizawa-sensei would have died. He knows this story by heart. “He's okay – he’s all bandaged up, but –”

“ Izuku!!! ” Oh, jeez. His mother's eyes fly open after she's rubbed the sleep out of them, and she stands up and goes to hug him before remembering that he is in a hospital bed and everything, so instead she just hovers over him, sniffling and wheezing and sobbing into her hands. “You're going to kill your mother! What – what –”

“Hiiii, mom,” Akatani Mikumo says, awkwardly smiling. His gut feels – he's warm, all over.

It's good. It's really good!!

He doesn't even need to die to see how much all of them care about him. Ochako is still crying. Toga Himiko's face has dried tears all around it, and her hair isn't even in a bun, sprawling all around her messily. His mother is grabbing at his hands which only hurts a little bit and she's still crying over him, asking why he said what he said earlier, asking if he's okay, saying that she loves him so very much, and… he tries to laugh, but he can't because his stomach hurts too much. “Honey, please. I don't even know why you were talking, you broke so many of your ribs.”

“Ahhh, that explains the pain,” Akatani Mikumo says, smiling. His mom laughs wetly. “I thought I was finally growing past 166 centimeters.”

“I love you, baby. Never scare me like that again!”

“Ahh, mom, I have to get injured at least every other week –” he wheezes a little, “or I'm not a true hero –”

“ Kensei! ” Aaaaaand there's Toga Himiko. He doesn't know what to feel when she wakes up, with her slit vampire eyes and her sharp fangs. She stands up, too, and she stares at him while his mother continues to babble. “You fucking idiot! Why did you do that?!”

This is a deeper question than the one Uraraka Ochako and his mother asked, because Toga Himiko knows that everything would have been fine if he hadn't done anything. Actually, wasn't it really inconsiderate of him to become a sacrificial lamb? She just spilled her guts to him and he would have taken those and then died with her secrets. Even so, he's nervous and his skin feels hot as hell and he wants – maybe some water or something, so he goes “sorry, Himichan. This Kensei-sama has failed you…”

Toga Himiko looks at him with disbelief. “You're so crazy,” she says. “I'm going to kill you myself!”

“Wait, why? Let me talk to my mom first,” says Akatani Mikumo. He looks to his mother. “Let me rest before you bring me to hell, Himichan!!”

“Language, the both of you,” says Midoriya Inko.

There are a lot of tears. Akatani Mikumo feels too tired to really – respond to any of them, besides stupid remarks. It's a bit overwhelming, especially when he's done talking to his mom (he asks her, very sternly, if she read the journals, and she responded that she couldn't bring herself to because that would have been admitting that he's dead and she knew he wouldn't be dead, and… well, that does something warm and fuzzy to Akatani Mikumo's poor heart) and Ochako (who thanks him for saving Asui Tsuyu over and over, jeez) and suddenly like four other people from Class 1-A are in his room because Ochako sent a group text out.

“We have a group chat?” says Akatani, staring at Kirishima Eijirou. His voice is hoarse and he still wants to curl in pain whenever he speaks, but: “Wow. No one invited me.”

“Yeah, man, because you were hospitalized during,” Kirishima Eijirou sighs. A large bandage on his face conceals what is probably a nasty looking bruise swelling on his cheek. He awkwardly shuffles on his feet for a minute. Kaminari Denki, with an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers, stands next to Ashido Mina who has a small box filled to the brim with… papers? Cards? Asui Tsuyu, with exhausted eyes, just stares at him blankly. Then Kirishima Eijirou says, “dude, you were so fucking awesome.”

“Oh, come on,” Akatani Mikumo says. “I think I almost died.”

“No, no – I mean, it was bad you almost died, but you saved Asui's life! That was super manly of you, dude! And you did it so cool, cutting off that guy's whole hand, I heard that the people watching couldn't even see you take out your sword – isn't that real samurai stuff?! Total kengo! Super manly! Super manly!” Kirishima Eijirou has stars in his eyes, like Akatani Mikumo is the coolest person he's ever met. Akatani Mikumo thinks it should be illegal to look at him with such admiration, so he just sticks his tongue out playfully to avoid saying literally anything embarrassing – or, even worse, wheezing. Worms writhe in his broken little stomach. Being sick sucks!

“You were super cool, Midoriya-kun,” says Ashido Mina. She places the box on his bedside table, and he stares at it – they are cards! Specifically a bunch of get-well-soon cards from his classmates, but there are way more than there should be. She catches his eye and she giggles a bit, rubbing behind her neck. “Me and Kirishima-kun got a bit carried away, so we made, like, a bunch more cards than we needed. But everyone from class wrote to you and all our teachers did, too. We forced ‘em,” she winks. “Anything for our very own kengo , Midoriya-kun!”

“It's not kengo ,” Akatani Mikumo weakly says.

He is surrounded by people who care about him. Ahh…

“I got this for you but it was wayyyyy bigger than I thought it was. I mean, I made it this big, but, like – you know? Anyway, uh,” Kaminari Denki says, and he blinks at Ashido Mina, “where do I put this?” Ashido Mina gestures to the bedside, and Kaminari Denki places them against the table. “So, yeah. Uh, get well soon, man! We all got dismissed but if you're still sick when we get to go back then class is gonna blow without you.”

“I don't even talk in class,” Akatani Mikumo tries to say, but instead he just lets out a really big wheeze. It hurts, to be cared for by so many people. Is that normal? He's never had this happen before, and all of these people are – they saved him, and now they're all worried about him, all bringing him stupid cards and stupid flowers and shit, and – and…

It's not right. None of this happens in the original novel. Once again, he’s stolen Todoroki Shouto's place as the savior of the story. What the fuck is he doing? Seriously, what the fuck?! Is he stupid?!

“Oh, yeah, Asui –” Kirishima Eijirou starts.

“I told you to call me Tsu, kero ,” croaks Asui Tsuyu, with her hands lifted in front of her. Her eyes are downturned, and an awkward, tense air fills the room. Kirishima Eijirou breaks it by patting her on the shoulder.

“I mean, you definitely want to talk to him by yourself, right?” he says. Without waiting for a reply, he stretches his arms and then wraps them around Kaminari Denki and Ashido Mina's shoulders. “Well, Tsuyu, we'll meet you in the lobby, alright? Don't take forever or we're not getting any NanaChiki for you.”

“Bah! Ignore this guy, Tsuyu! I'll get you all of the NanaChiki you want,” says Kaminari Denki, being led out. “No, I'll get you all the NanaChiki you want,” argues Ashido Mina, and their voices all leave the room until it's just Akatani Mikumo and the girl he saved because he couldn't fucking help himself. He flexes his fingers and wishes that his sword was there in the bed with him – his sword! He forgot to ask about it, stuck in the sensation of being wrapped into a blanket and lovingly kissed on his forehead by people who, seven years ago, he would have never imagined meeting. Fuck.

“Midoriya-kun,” Asui Tsuyu says. Her voice is all wobbly, like she's in the middle of crying. “T-Thank you. You worried me a lot, Midoriya-kun. I –...”

She shudders in a gasp and then begins to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “ Midoriya-kun, I thought you died saving me! ”

Jeez. Too many people are crying today. If he were a little more mobile, he might have hugged her. The most he can do is look at her, so Akatani Mikumo smiles. He doesn't know what to say, but – and he's not happy that he almost died (probably) nor is he happy that Asui Tsuyu is crying, but – but it does feel pretty good, to be alive to see the person who could have died. Isn't it , sarcastically, someone else says, and he ignores them because he's been ignoring them a lot, today. “Oh, Tsuchan, please don't cry. I'm sorry I-I worried you. Agh! It hurts to speak, Tsuchan!”

She sniffles and wipes her tears with her wrists. “You really worried me. B-But thank you for saving me, kero. I was really scared, and I thought, ‘I'm going to die’, but then – then you saved me, and…”

“My poor heart can't take this,” Akatani Mikumo says. “If you really are thankful, then call me Kensei-sama forever from now on.”

She laughs. “Okay, kero. Kensei-sama, thank you so much. What does Ochako say? This young one is under your guidance!”

“Pahahaha,” Akatani Mikumo wheezes. “Yes, yes. Hey, speaking of kensei and all that, did they get my sword?”

…

“I heard they got… a sword,” Asui Tsuyu says, very carefully. She sounds like she's mourning something. “But it was completely snapped in half. I think the hand guy made the Noumu do it to mess with you, but you were already unconscious.”

“Ah,” Akatani Mikumo replies.

The ceiling is white. Akatani Mikumo is used to looking at it. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, Akatani Mikumo's bedrest time has decreased to a week. He's sure it would've been, like, months before his ribs fully healed if he didn't live in the age of quirk enhancing healing times. Not for the first time, he thanks t_t666 for his wonderful quirk power system, which allows totally useless people like him to benefit from others.

People like him…

He thinks about Toga Himiko. At least she reincarnated into a body that – that does something. With luck, Shigaraki Tomura won't remember her at all from the attack, or – or maybe she can convince them that hero society is awful, that she went to be saved and they sneered at her and left her on the streets. But it would be bad if she wasn't there when she needed to be, so he can't let her just – stay out of the League of Villains. He…

…

What a mess he's in. Now he's responsible for an entire other person who doesn't even feel real.

He turns over. Reaches blindly until he picks up the cloth of the bouquet. Pulls it up to look at it again, for the millionth time. When Kaminari Denki explained it to him on another visit, his explanation for the flowers summed up to: I chose what I thought would look cool! And Akatani Mikumo is no flower linguist, so he can admit – it does look cool. Totally kenshi, Kirishima Eijirou had said, but Akatani Mikumo doesn't even know what that means in the context of a flower bouquet. The colors?

Mauve carnations, bundled with black roses. It's like a… kiss of death , or whatever? Dark love, he thinks, and laughs a bit. Because that's ironic.

…he doesn't want to think about Midoriya Izuku right now. So he doesn't! He closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, even as the door to his room opens and someone with purposeful, calm footsteps walks in and sits down on a chair near his bed. He keeps pretending to be asleep, because he's sure he knows who it is, but – “Midoriya,” Todoroki Shouto says. “You are not good at pretending you are asleep.”

“Ah! You got me,” says Akatani Mikumo. Jesus. “Ahhh, Todoroki-kun! I went through a traumatic experience, so I don't… do I… do we have to talk about this whole thing?”

“Um,” Todoroki Shouto says, looking at him carefully. “Yes.”

“Ahhh! Okay. I’ll tell you the story. It's nothing as crazy as – as I bet you're expecting… oh, but before I do, can you get me some water? Please?” He tries to keep his tone confident, but he ends up wheezing instead like he always does. Ahhh, how embarrassing! Todoroki Shouto looks like Akatani Mikumo is defying all of his expectations. Which is bad!! He just wants to go to sleep. Can't Todoroki Shouto wait until he's recovered?

No, this is how he operates. He wants answers as soon as he discovers a problem. Jeez. Todoroki Shouto brings him a paper cup filled with water, and Akatani Mikumo drinks it greedily, because his throat really is dry and parched. “Okay,” he says. “What am I telling you again?”

“You know about his time limit,” Todoroki Shouto says. “And I still have my suspicions about your reaction to the – the villain attack.”

“Ah, right.” So stupid. That's so stupid he might cry. He was so relieved, then, that everything would go as planned, and now instead of Todoroki Shouto in a hospital bed it's Akatani Mikumo instead. He's a terrible side character. 

“Ahaha… okay. I'll p-prove my innocence to you… so please let me s-speak.”

His heart is jumping. He keeps wheezing while he's trying to talk. God, he hates interacting with Todoroki Shouto, it's the fucking worst. He manages to spit everything out with minimal stuttering and quite a bit of wheezing, and at one point he does have to pause to drink more water, but he does it. After it's all done, Todoroki Shouto is still staring at him.

“I see,” he says. “But why did you smile when the villains were attacking?”

“Oh…” Akatani Mikumo says. He stares at Todoroki Shouto. And because he's a big liar, he says: 

“I guess I was relieved, because I knew Aizawa-sensei would save us.”

Unfortunately, said Aizawa-sensei shambles to his room in mummy bandages and attempts to get on his knees in a bow. Akatani Mikumo can't even scold him, because a bunch of nurses come into the room and they start shouting at him that he has to forgo his pride as a hero a little bit so he can recover first before making amends to the student he couldn't save.

“It's okay, Aizawa-sensei,” Akatani Mikumo says, as they escort him out. “You saved me plenty.”

It's nice. Everything is so nice. And everyone cares about him. And everyone feels guilty about him. And…

Akatani Mikumo smiles at the ceiling.

I'm not a very good person, he thinks, am I?

On the first day upon returning to U.A., in which he is incredibly tired and overwhelmed by the amount of people who crowd his desk and say that they're very, very happy he's back (including all the mob characters, wow!), Aizawa-sensei announces that they're continuing with the Sports Festival.

“Plus Ultra,” Aizawa-sensei says. His voice is muffled by the thick bandages wrapping around his entire body. Multiple times, Yaoyorozu Momo, suggests that Aizawa-sensei get more bedrest like Akatani Mikumo did. Secretly, he thinks that that's not a compliment. If Akatani Mikumo were a protagonist, he might have ripped out his IV or something and then forced his way to school the next day while bleeding from like all of his organs. Aizawa-sensei is way cooler than him.

“Plus Ultra,” Akatani Mikumo replies, in the same dry intonation. He tosses a lazy fist up.

“Plus Ultra,” Uraraka Ochako says, smoke puffing from her nose in excitement. She cheerily pumps her fist up and down in such tense motions that it feels like looking at a cannon being fired.

“Plus Ultra,” Todoroki Shouto says, voice morose. He does a very serious fist pump, which looks absolutely ridiculous with his serious face.

The Sports Festival will suck. Akatani Mikumo knows this. He can try very hard all he wants, but he knows Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki will destroy the rest of the competition and even the entire stadium with the sheer momentum of their fight. And Akatani Mikumo will do absolutely nothing, once more. If he's lucky enough to make it to the cavalry battles, he won't even win that. And if he does win that, then – then he'll have to lose in some other place! So it will suck and be embarrassing for him, but – but since it's okay because side characters shouldn't get the spotlight, that's not really what he's worried about…

His eyes burn into the back of Iida Tenya's head. Iida Tenya (who had visited him to express his gratitude and wish his recovery a speedy process), who can probably feel the weight of Akatani Mikumo's stare, turns around with a question in his eyes. Akatani Mikumo weakly waves with a smile.

Yeah, fuck, that's the part he's worried about. The fucking Hero Killer, Stain.

Goddamn it. He very quietly bashes his head into his desk.

The fuck is he gonna do about the goddamn Hero Killer?!???

Chapter Text

Akatani Mikumo has a problem, and that problem involves his sword – or, to be more precise, what is left of it. 

After taking a week to recover from his injuries, he barges into Nakamura-sensei's dojo for kendō and looks at the crowd of children who all face him with surprise.

“Nakamura-sensei,” Akatani Mikumo says, meekly. Nakamura-sensei, from where she's drilling a tall blonde American boy named Fujikawa John, turns to him in a slow, menacing manner. Akatani Mikumo heaves an apology and, in the doorway, drops to his knees and elbows, bowing.

“What did you do, boy,” says Nakamura-sensei. She starts whacking the side of his head with a shinai. “You get hospitalized and then come to my dojo, saying you are sorry?”

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. That's not why…” Akatani Mikumo says, with a strangled voice. “Um… during that – the attack where I – I almost died, you know.” He lifts his head to look at her and Nakamura-sensei looks thoroughly unimpressed, tapping her foot impatiently. Mikumo winces. “So, um, please don't get mad at me when I say this, but…”

“But,” Nakamura-sensei repeats.

“But, um, I… I lost…” his head tilts back, and he stares at the ceiling solemnly. “I… lost… the sword.”

“...”

“Well, it – it would be better to say it broke . I didn't – I didn't break the sword! I didn't break it! But it definitely, um, broke.” He swallows, and then he begins to laugh hysterically. “The sword was definitely broken! I didn't want to believe it either, Nakamura-sensei! I really didn't!”

He hadn't , not even when Asui Tsuyu told him, until he had brought it up with one of the policemen who interrogated him after the incident and they brought in the katana, snapped messily in half and crushed at the place where the snap happened. 

The Noumu, presumably, had broken it with only his fist. It had made Mikumo laugh skeptically and tilt his head back, saying that thing crushed a metal sword in its hand and it couldn't one-shot me with a punch?! Was it holding back or what?!

So he really hadn't meant for it to happen. “And,” he adds, because Nakamura-sensei is still silent, “I chopped off someone's hand with it. So really, you should be praising me! I'm l-learning! Practical application, Nakamura-sensei!!! Practical application!!!! ”

“Hoooooh,” Nakamura-sensei finally says.

Nakamura-sensei is a stern old woman, average size if a bit taller with grey hair tinted purple. She says it's been that way ever since she was born, and that she was always a cranky old woman even at 15, where she always woke up at 6 in the morning and complained if she didn't have a newspaper to read. Her face is wrinkly and tough and all mean around the edges and her voice is pretty similar to it, actually. “You let someone break that old thing, boy…?”

“I didn't let them ,” insists Mikumo, who maybe senses his impending doom. “They really almost killed me. Please show some sympathy, Nakamura-sensei!”

“Alright,” Nakamura-sensei sighs, in a strange bout of sympathy – yay! “ – but let me beat you over the head just a few times.” Huh?!

“E-Eh…? Ah, Nakamura-sensei – wait, wait –!”

Oowada Hina is a darker-skinned, darker-haired girl with bright blue eyes and the unfortunate tendency to blush in any situation – when she's exerted a lot of energy, or when she's tired, or when she's excited, or when she's scared. 

Out of habit, she covers her cheeks as soon as the helm of her armor comes off, in case she is blushing. Thankfully, hydrokinesis makes it easy to cool herself down, even if her quirk is considerably less powerful than, apparently, her brothers. 

Now she heaves a sigh, exasperated, and she sticks a hand in Midoriya Izuku's face, which blasts a misty spread of freezing cold water to his skin.

This is because Oowada Hina is an angel.

As much as he complains about the drag of interacting with people who aren't real, it is a relief to visit kendo practice and be greeted with – a different, calmer sensation than his heart throbbing out of his chest just because he's forced to sit with the protagonist and one of the main supporting characters. 

Plus, Oowada Hina is the perfect mix of besetment and fondness that it feels more comfortable to talk to her than anyone else.

Also, her quirk rocks. His head still throbs red from where Nakamura-sensei had whacked him up so hard it rattled his teeth. “Abuse,” says Akatani Mikumo, sniffling haughtily. “Isn't that abuse, Hinachan?”

“Hmmmmm,” says Oowada Hina, because she is actually the devil. “Maybe Midoriya deserved it…?”

This is when Sunada Yuichi trots up to them, white kimono and red hakama and bogū helm, and he sticks his face into Akatani Mikumo's startled one. Akatani Mikumo blinks once. 

Sunada Yuichi's face is scarred all over with thin grey and pink lines, and his hair is dark brown, dyed with streaks of red on his messy bangs. He gives a toothy smile.

“Hey, Midoriya-kun,” says Sunada Yuichi. Belatedly, Akatani Mikumo realizes that Sunada Yuichi, who is 14 years old, has never once beaten him in kendo. “I heard why Nakamura-sensei was smacking you around. I've never seen you get beat so badly.”

“Lay off of it, Sunada-kun,” Akatani Mikumo groans. “I lost the katana she gave me.” Then, indignant, he huffs. “That katana was old, anyway!! If I'm going to be a Kensei-sama, I need something better than that, don't I?! Don't I, Hinachan?!”

“Don't you…?” Oowada Hina says, smiling like she's in on a joke that Mikumo isn't aware of. “Hmmmm.”

“Hmmmm,” Sunada Yuichi mimics, and he leans forward a little more. His eyes glitter. “My family is actually full of swordsmiths. My dad said, ‘if you will not be a swordsmith, boy, I will send you to kendo ! So I am here now, in kendo …” He does a strange little sniffle, moving his nose. “So, so… he hasn't had any commissions lately. Most of the ones he gets are ornamental anyway. Not a lot of people are vying for swords these days, yes yes. Too many quirks, yes yes… but Midoriya needs a sword now, yes?”

“Huuuh,” Akatani Mikumo says, leaning closer. Their noses are almost touching. He can feel the sparks fly between them, united by a single interest… “So what are you saying, Sunada-kun…? Are you saying that… that…?”

“Come with me after practice,” Sunada Yuichi replies. His eyes twinkle, and his grin widens. He moves his bogū under his arm to tap his pointer finger against Akatani Mikumo's bruised forehead, pushing him back just a little. “I'll show you a world of wonders, Midoriya-kun. ”

This guy is kind of scary, Akatani Mikumo thinks.

Practice that day is made intentionally difficult by Nakamura-sensei. Because of his school schedule, he doesn't get to come to practice most days – he’s just too exhausted to do it, and anyway most of the time he can't make it before everyone is closing everything up anyway. 

It's not like he needs it – he doesn't compete professionally because Nakamura-sensei has been training him in kenjutsu instead of actual kendo, and just because he's the best kendōka doesn't mean everyone can't get on fine without him.

It's not like the dojo is real , anyway. Not in the same way that going to the kendo club at U.A. would be.

But, well, sue him. He, as a side character, has become attached to background characters. In his mind he compares it to his slightly interesting backstory that shows up occasionally during the plot when he gives it away to the protagonist, or maybe in small omakes where everyone shares a little bit of their lore. 

His kendo club is a part of his personality now, and as much as he'd be happy to remove it, he just can't. Not when Nakamura-sensei still teaches him kenjutsu, and Oowada Hana still gracefully airs him out with a cold mist on his face. 

It's a sad, regretful little thing, and he does wish that Aizawa-sensei would hurry up and let him do kendo – he did almost die, after all – but until then, he's stuck with these people that he unfortunately likes.

He does a small sigh as the little kids whack shinai at each other. Akatani Mikumo, what's wrong with you? 

He wonders if Toga Himiko feels the same slightly wrong feeling he does when he talks to background characters, and then he opens his phone. 

Toga Himiko's number – which she had given to him at the hospital in case of emergencies, whatever that means – sits on his most recent conversation. Hi, Toga Himiko texted. It's me, Himichan. Don't be a stranger, Kensei-chan!! We need to talk sometime.

What's she doing now? Going back to normal high school? Did she survive the interrogation? Was she greeted with hot chocolate and a warm blanket, tucked into a bed with whispers of good night? 

Is she happy, now, that she's completely going against everything Toga Himiko stood for? 

Well, maybe not everything, Akatani Mikumo snorts dryly, while clicking off of his messaging app. She's certainly got the crazy girl thing down pat. 

…He shouldn't think like that. Thinking about Toga Himiko makes him sick all over in a new, different way, like worms diving in and out of his pores. Ahhh. He closes his phone entirely and watches the children beat each other.

“Ahhh,” says Akatani Mikumo, in despair. Oowada Hina gives him a confused look.

His life is a total fucking wreck. Whatever. Whatever ! 

At the end of practice, while everyone is cleaning up, Sunada Yuichi approaches him with his kendo uniform folded up into a locker and his regular outfit – a salmon colored graphic tee with a Best Jeanist graphic on it, covered by a thick green parka, with grey sweatpants and blue sneakers. “Midoriya-kun, hi hi. We're going now, okaaaay?”

“Okay,” says Akatani Mikumo, feeling underdressed. He doesn't know how Sunada Yuichi can wear such heavy clothing. Even though it's fall, it feels unexpectedly hot everywhere, and the sun keeps shining in his eyes whenever he goes anywhere. 

He picks up his bag and waves to everyone else before locking eyes with Nakamura-sensei and wincing. He turns to Sunada Yuichi. “Let's go now, then.”

Sunada Yuichi actually lives fairly close to the dojo. Like, five minute walk close. On the way he still manages to be incredibly interesting for a side character as he explains his lineage, as he calls it. “My father’s quirk, and his fathers quirk, had to do with heat. My grandfather is really heat resistant – I mean, like, set him on fire and nothing would happen type, yes yes. My father, hmmm. He can endure verrrry intense things. Like heat or cold. So, they were both swordsmiths. Early quirk users loved swords. Total ronin era, apparently.”

Sunada Yuichi tosses an arm over Akatani Mikumo's shoulders, looking at him… flirtatiously? Wait, has he misinterpreted the entire situation?! Looking for something else to talk about, he laughs loudly. “What's your quirk, Sunada-kun?”

“Ah, call me Yuichi,” says Sunada Yuichi, smirking. “Yes yes. We will become friends from now on, won't we?”

“Um,” Akatani Mikumo wheezes, staring at the clouds behind Sunada Yuichi. “Y… Yes…?”

“Ahahaa! My quirk, Midoriya-kun, is that I can make things very hot in the air. I excite particles. But I cannot excite them very fast or anything and it is harder for me to excite ones that are solid, so I just use it to heat my water up for tea. Verrrrry convenient.”

“Oh, wow,” Akatani Mikumo says. “That's, um…” he swallows: “cool…?”

The conversation, thankfully, ends somewhere near there or something – honestly, if you told Akatani Mikumo that Sunada Yuichi had continued to talk for another fifteen minutes, continuously turning them in the wrong direction to keep the conversation going, then he would believe you. It's not that paying attention to background characters is particularly hard for him, but more that his thoughts just seem to trickle out of his ears again until they finally reach the very ominous… 

“Hey, is this even a house?!” says Akatani Mikumo, standing in front of what looks like a small warehouse. “Are you kidnapping me?!”

Sunada Yuichi stares at him with a bit of amusement. “Midoriya-kun, did you think my father would make you a sword in his bedroom? Of course not. Come in, come in. He will be excited. Maybe he'll even give you one for free.”

Akatani Mikumo, who was prepared to fork over his life savings for a good quality sword, secretly brightens at this news. “Well, that's great, because I don't have a million yen.”

They both enter the warehouse, which is brighter than he expected and smells of burnt iron and industrial tools – well, of course it does, but it also smells like wood and – um. Like hot things. Like when you go into a place that's very hot and it smells like it's hot. “Well, this is it,” Sunada Yuichi says. “The forge of your dreams, Midoriya-kun…”

“Wow!” Akatani Mikumo replies. He's never been in a – a forge before. That sounds so fucking fancy and pretentious and shit. Nakamura-sensei's sword was just given to him – he hadn't bought it or anything, so seeing this is – is really – oh my god it's hot in here. “Would your dad be mad if I took off my shirt?”

“No,” Sunada Yuichi says, shedding his parka. “Well, maybe. We have not gotten to that stage in our relationship, Midoriya-kun. You want to strip in front of me?”

“You're a devil and I hate you,” Akatani Mikumo replies, choosing to keep his shirt on.

Sunada Yuichi's father is a very large and prickly shirtless man with dozens of silvery scars and burn marks across his chest, with a red beard and a bald head. He isn't even fucking forging anything, he's just going over the dozens of swords lined up on the wall with a meticulous eye as the two of them approach. It makes Akatani Mikumo nervous as all hell. “Faaaather,” Sunada Yuichi intones, dragging the word out disrespectfully. “I brought the boy.”

“What do you mean, you brought the boy,” Akatani Mikumo says, frowning.

The Older Sunada turns to look at both of them with a scrutinizing expression. He appraises Akatani Mikumo as if he's a sword himself, tilting his head and frowning at him, and then he nods. “I see,” he gruffly says. “You are Midoriya.”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Akatani Mikumo says. “That's my name…”

“Hmmmmmm,” The Older Sunada says. “I am Sunada Genji.”

Oh wow, Akatani Mikumo thinks. That certainly sounds like the name of a guy who'd forge swords for a living. Outwardly, he does an awkward bow and says, “Um, thank you, Sunada-san.”

“What did you use before your sword broke,” Sunada Genji asks, turning to face the wall lined with swords. Akatani Mikumo is briefly confused because he literally did not fucking tell him that, and then he shoots a worried look to Sunada Yuichi. Sunada Yuichi looks back expectedly.

“Like, what my sword was? A katana. I-I've only ever used a katana. If I get a new sword, I would definitely want a katana. ”

“Wow, Midoriya, you can hold one of those?” Sunada Yuichi says. “They're so heavy to me. You have… a sleeper build.”

“Don't say that,” Akatani Mikumo replies, elbowing Sunada Yuichi in the stomach.

Sunada Genji leads them to a room further into the warehouse. Initially dark and intimidating, he flicks a light switch to reveal – swords. Oh my god. So many swords. It's honestly an obscene amount of what looks to be high quality swords. Doesn't it cost money to make these?! How the fuck can this family afford to forge all day, all night?

“We are a trusted brand,” Sunada Yuichi says, as his father begins to gather various sheathed katana in his arms. He is a very big man, so plenty of swords fit. Akatani Mikumo watches with worry, because the thought of paying comes back to mind, and he really can't hold a job now that he goes to U.A. – they'll kick him out! Urgk.

“Urgk,” Akatani Mikumo says, as Sunada Genji lays out a bunch of katanas at his feet gently. “Hrgnk. This is too much…”

Then comes the painful process of decisiveness. Akatani Mikumo has never been good at choosing one thing over another – all of the decisions about his hero outfit were made by the kids at the dojo and the support team that contacted him about details, and his sword was handed to him by Nakamura-sensei so he just got used to it.

Sunada Genji makes him pick up the heaviest sword and then the lightest sword. He makes him swing 10 times with each, as if gauging his comfort. Then he shoves other swords in Akatani Mikumo's hands and tells him to swing those , too, and eventually the process is so taxing on his poor arms that he forgets that he's also supposed to be seeing what's comfortable for him.

Sunada Yuichi watches them from the doorway with an amused smirk, because Sunada Yuichi is apparently an asshole.

“Urgk,” Akatani Mikumo says, as Sunada Genji drops a katana with a ridiculously ornate tsuka. “Is this necessary? I think you've weighed me out now! Sunada-san, if you make me do another 10 sword swings, I'll die. I really will. I'll commit seppuku right here.”

Sunada Genji sniffs. “Okay,” he says, and he does a flick of his hand – get to it!

“Urghwagh,” Akatani Mikumo hiccups, sweat pooling in his underarms as he smudges a beautiful sword with his calloused fingers. “Augahrughk…”

Someone save me!! I just wanted a sword…!!!!

“So these are my options,” Akatani Mikumo says, after two hours of Sunada Genji assessing his performance. “I see… huh…”

…

“Hey, were you just having me swing those around because you wanted to see how they'd look?”

Sunada Genji, looking absolutely shameless, says, “Yep.”

“Your family is full of scammers,” Akatani Mikumo says, turning to Sunada Yuichi.

“Yep,” Sunada Yuichi replies. “Will you choose a sword or what?”

“Do I have to pay for it,” Akatani Mikumo sighs, turning to Sunada Genji. Sunada Genji makes a very scrunched face, as if he really wants to charge Akatani Mikumo for it, but he just sighs and shakes his head with a resigned look in his eyes.

“You're a high schooler training to be a hero…” Sunada Genji says, sadly. “Just be sure to tell people where you got your sword from…”

“It would be more convincing if you didn't sound so put out about it,” Akatani Mikumo points out. “Can you at least pretend you don't want to squeeze the money out of me?”

“No,” Sunada Genji replies.

“Your family is shameless,” Akatani Mikumo says, running his hands along the black blade of a particular katana.

It's beautiful, actually. In the midst of sword swinging, he hadn't gotten to appreciate the aesthetics of any of the swords. But this one… now, Akatani Mikumo is no sword saint, no matter how much he calls himself kensei , but he can appreciate a good-looking sword. He really can! He hasn't researched the most divine aesthetics of katanas just to walk in and choose the first thing he sees, but…

Sunada Genji looks a bit queasy.

“What's wrong,” Akatani Mikumo says, with a finger almost touching the blade, gliding across the outline of the hamon. The black, polished saya is placed beside it, decorated with the white outlines of clouds that obscure a white sun. “Is this one bad? Is it, like, secretly the cheapest one here?”

“Hkhkk,” says Sunada Genji, in reply. Akatani Mikumo, lost, turns to Sunada Yuichi.

“It's one of his best ones,” Sunada Yuichi says. “He didn't want you to pick it since you're getting it for free.”

“I'm taking this one,” Akatani Mikumo decides.

“Hggggrrkkk,” Sunada Genji says, closing his eyes. “Okay.”

“I will be sure not to tarnish the Sunada name, Sunada-san,” Akatani Mikumo bows, sheathing his beautiful new sword into its scabbard. “You can place your trust in me. This is better than Nakamura-sensei's flimsy thing anyway.”

Sunada Genji looks a little happier about this. Akatani Mikumo, who knows nothing about the history of that sword and doesn't even want to know, smiles and nods peacefully.

“Will Midoriya be okay?” asks Kirishima Eijirou, as they suit up for practice. “Didn't that big guy take your sword?”

“Don't even w-worry about i-it, Kirishima Eijirou,” Akatani Mikumo says, with a sly smirk and closed eyes. He confidently closes his locker door so hard that it slams, and he jumps despite himself. Then he leans against the door and crosses his arms, dressed in his kamishimo. “Don't e-even worry about it. I'll k-knock your socks off. Definitely, definitely…”

“Every day I think Midoriya gets crazier,” Mineta Minoru whispers to Kaminari Denki.

“He did, like, almost die,” Kaminari Denki replies.

Akatani Mikumo's smile twitches. “I'll show all of you! I-I'll show you…!”

“You sound like an anime villain,” says Ojirou Mashirao. “Calm down.”

All Might tells them the rules of the battle simulation. The paranoia that comes with these comes full force – whenever he's at a day that isn't specifically covered by the novel, it's terrifying! He doesn't know what to do or how to act, so he has to actually rely on his shitty personality to help him. The only good thing about battle simulations is how hard he can swing his sword!

This week, they've had a lot of battle simulations relating to rescue to replace the disaster that was the U.S.J., so when All Might describes how they'll be saving civilians while also defending from villains, he's not surprised. Specifically, they're in two teams – a villain team, whose objective is to limit the heroes from finding the civilians; and the hero team, whose objective is to rescue civilians while also keeping the villains from reaching them.

“If a villain reaches a civilian, that civilian is considered dead, and the villain team gains a point! If a villain is caught with the capture tape, then the hero team receives a point! If a civilian is brought to the safe zone without dying, then that's a point for the heroes! If all of the civilians are dead, then the villains automatically win! If all of the civilians are safe, then the heroes automatically win! Villains, you have one minute to set up before the heroes arrive!”

“Woohoo!” Uraraka Ochako says, beside him. “I hope we're on the same team, Kensei-sama! ”

“I’m quirkless,” Akatani Mikumo replies.

“You cut a dude's hand off. I don't think I could do that and I have a quirk,” Jirou Kyouka says, scoffing.

“Well,” Akatani Mikumo says, and then he closes his mouth.

They choose the villains and heroes by a random drawing. Akatani Mikumo's small paper that he takes out of the drawing box is red and says “V” – so he supposes he's a villain. How ironic… he looks to Uraraka Ochako's paper and it's green, and he sighs very loudly. Uraraka Ochako looks a bit dismayed, but then she clenches her fist. “Nevermind! I'll kick your ass, Kensei-chan! ”

“You're s-so mean,” Akatani Mikumo says. “Don't call me t-that.”

All Might releases the villains into the urban training city first. Akatani Mikumo follows behind his classmates with despair, trudging along while cursing U.A. for all of its stupid giant facilities. What sort of hero school, honest to god, needs an urban cityscape to fuck around in? Cementoss's quirk is ridiculously OP – no wonder he's a pro hero, I guess. I hate it here!!! I hate it here!!!!

“There are five civilians in all,” Yaoyorozu Momo says. “We should locate them first,” and then split into groups to protect them. We aren't allowed to start capturing them for at least 4 minutes, so the hero team gets a minute to catch up with us before we can start…”

“We got this,” Jirou Kyouka says, and Kouda Kouji nods in affirmation. Akatani Mikumo kind of stands behind everyone else as they start discussing strategies that Akatani Mikumo could never dream of making. 

Yaoyorozu tells Hagakure to recon around the central area and to communicate the hero's plans on the intercom. She instructs Mineta Minoru and Asui Tsuyu to go to the highest civilian and wait to capture them, and she delegates others to other civilians that Jirou Kyouka and Kouda Kouji point to. Eventually she hums, scratching her chin, and she points to Akatani Mikumo and Kirishima Eijirou.

“You two will go to the civilian trapped in the sewer system,” she says. “Midoriya-kun, you probably can't land a meaningful hit on Kirishima Eijirou, and the objective is to stop the heroes from reaching the civilians… so if you guys just defend, hopefully they won't be able to find it before – oh, that's the horn. Go!”

“Shit,” Akatani Mikumo replies, and Kirishima Eijirou takes off. Akatani Mikumo watches him leave before remembering that he's supposed to be following.

The sewer system – which isn't really a sewer system, it's more of a long series of very large, spacious pipes with murky water flowing in between them – is collapsed at one side, presumably to mimic the apparent villain attack. Kirishima Eijirou hardens his elbow and then bursts the sewer grate open, a move which Akatani Mikumo thinks is completely unnecessary. He’s the one who moves the grate back to its original position, even though the banged look of it is a serious giveaway.

They're both silent as they march through the sewers. It's pretty linear, though, and the civilian makes it very easy to find him, because he's wailing.

“What the hell is that,” Akatani Mikumo says.

“Shhhhhh,” Kirishima Eijirou replies. “I didn't think they'd be real people.”

“Oh my god,” Akatani Mikumo says, as they turn the corner. Present Mic, laying on the ground with loose rocks and rubble strewn on his body, sobs loudly into the sewer system. It's so loud that Akatani Mikumo is positive the heroes would be able to hear it outside of the system.

“ SAVE ME ,” Present Mic says. Over his normal hero costume, he's wearing regular clothes – like, a sweater and sweatpants. He looks both anguished and like he's having fun. “ HELP! HELP! ”

“Please be quiet,” Akatani Mikumo tries. Present Mic begins to sob harder, screaming at the top of his lungs. Akatani Mikumo plugs his ears with his thumbs and watches in slight amusement as Kirishima Eijirou attempts to play the part of intimidating villain by making his face very sharp and scary – presumably, to trick Present Mic into being quiet.

This does nothing but make him louder.

“Jesus christ,” Akatani Mikumo says. “At least this is a pretty s-secluded place. S-So we just wait four minutes a-and no one finds us, r-right?”

“No, we're fuc – screwed,” Kirishima Eijirou replies, glancing at Present Mic's flailing and screaming. “They've got Shouji on their team.”

“Oh,” Akatani Mikumo says, as Ojirou Mashirao and Shouji Mezou run up to them. “Oh, okay,” Akatani Mikumo sighs. He unsheathes his sword and clears his throat. “Hahaha! We, uh… we will… k-kill you. Because we – we are… villains! A-And – yeah. Get ready to… die.”

The sewer system is silent for a brief moment.

“Midoriya,” Kirishima Eijirou says. “Dude. That was the worst villain monologue, like, ever.”

“ Hah?! Fine, then!!! You try doing one, moron, s-since you're so much better than me!! Seriously, go ahead!!”

Kirishima Eijirou clenches a hardened fist. The tips of his fingers are razor-sharp as he grins with menacing sharp teeth. “Today will be your last, heroes,” he says, and then he laughs. “We'll feed your corpses to the pigs!”

“You guys are both lame!” Ojirou Mashirao says, and he swings his tail at them.

The thing is: wielding his sword in combat training is less about actually hitting people and more about scaring people away. It's why it's so effective against fleshy guys like Ojirou Mashirao and Shouji Mezou – if someone like Akatani Mikumo can cut a guy's hand off, what else can he do? They end up winning purely because Ojirou Mashirao and Shouji Mezou are too scared of the blade to make any meaningful progress towards apprehending them.

“Cool,” Akatani Mikumo says. “Um… w-we got you. S-Stupid heroes…!”

“ Please just make him stop screaming,” Shouji Mezou pleads. Present Mic, for the duration of the scuffle, had not stopped screaming. Akatani Mikumo shuffles over to him and pats him on the arm. The contact is electrifying, but he ignores that.

“You are dead,” Akatani Mikumo says. Present Mic screams very loudly and then his head lolls over. His tongue sticks out of his mouth, and he makes a bleh noise before the intercom tells everyone that a civilian has died.

“What the fu – heck , Midoriya,” Kirishima Eijirou says, shaking him. “Your sword is, like, cooler ! How did you even pay for that?”

“I know a guy,” Akatani Mikumo says, preening under the praise. His heart beats for every second Kirishima Eijirou's hands are on his shoulders. “Who knows a g-guy.” Yeah, Sunada Yuichi knows his literal dad.

“It's totally ronin! Totally ronin! You're the coolest ronin ever, Midoriya!”

“Don't swordsmen, like, name their swords?” Ojirou Mashirao says, looking neutral about his tied up hands. “You should name your sword.”

“Name your sword! Name your sword!”

“Oh my god,” Akatani Mikumo says, pressing his palm on Kirishima Eijirou's mouth. “S-Shut up, all of you.”

“Name it! Name it!” says Ojirou Mashirao, who is an asshole.

“I agree with the naming thing,” Present Mic says.

“Yamada-sensei, you're dead! You c-cant't talk! Kirishima Eijirou, we have to help upstairs,” Akatani Mikumo hisses.

“Oh, right,” Kirishima Eijirou blinks, and then they leave the dead civilian with the captured heroes in the sewers.

The heroes end up winning, sadly. Akatani Mikumo counts his triumph a small victory, and he barely listens to the advice that All Might gives everyone at the end of the match, because he's too busy thinking about a stupid name for his beautiful sword.

Ugh. How dumb. He's a child playing kenshi. He shouldn't be naming a sword, no matter how cool it is.

…

…

He really wants to name the sword. I mean, he's already gone this far, hasn't he?! This is from a professional swordsmith! He might as well name the damn sword! It's not like he has to tell anyone about naming the damn sword, he just has to name the damn sword!!!

He thinks about it while he leaves school, and while he takes the bus, and while he walks home.

…

Pfft. He could name it Deku and shove one up Bakugou Katsuki's ass, but he's genuinely afraid of gaining more of Bakugou Katsuki's ire. Plus, he… that nickname isn't even for him, not really. Akatani Mikumo hasn't been called Deku once – Bakugou Katsuki was talking to Midoriya Izuku.

So he can't reclaim that, no matter how funny it would be. He stares at the saya and blinks at the clouds obscuring the sun.

…

Didn't he make a swordsman OC? What was its name…? Yamikumo? Aha. Wouldn't that be hilarious. He doesn't belong here, anyway. Shouldn't everything he does reflect how much he doesn't belong here? He's not a real person, not like Todoroki Shouto or Bakugou Katsuki are, so shouldn't his weapon reflect how beautiful this reality is?

Sure.

Haha. Sure.

At school the next day, Kirishima Eijirou shakes him and asks if he's named his sword.

“Yeah,” Akatani Mikumo says, voice hoarse. He smiles widely, and Kirishima Eijirou looks a touch concerned. 

“My sword is named Yamikumo. ”

Thank you for reading K:SY!

Chapter Text

“Why do you want to be a hero?”

Oh, that's an easy question, thinks Akatani Mikumo. It's for my perfect fanfiction.

“Eh?! Well, um, the reason is kind of embarrassing,” says Uraraka Ochako, smiling even while her cheeks burn bright red. She places her face in her palms, looking solemnly at her half-eaten plate of food. “Um, it's really because I… I need the money? Uh, of course, I want to save people too! But being a police officer doesn't pay as well as being a hero does usually…”

“Ohhh,” says Asui Tsuyu. She ribbits. “I don't think that's embarrassing at all, Ochako.”

“Ah?! Really?! I mean, I feel a bit out of place, is all! Everyone else wants to be a hero for, like, normal and chivalrous reasons, but I'm over here just wanting to raise more money for my family… it feels greedy, you know?! Like – like corruption and all that. Ahh, but I'm overthinking it… plenty of heroes do it.”

Akatani Mikumo faces the sun in the large, bright windows that loom over the booths against the walls in the loud cafeteria. Over there, a bunch of students from Class 1-B are talking to each other. Someone throws a piece of food at another and the both of them laugh. Over there, two support students look over blueprints for some sort of flamethrower/laser design. Over there, someone else is trying to pick a fight with a girl who completely ignores him. The sun is shining on all of them. It's easy for him to get lost in the sensation.

He breathes it in. The sensation of being alive.

“Hmmmm,” Asui Tsuyu croaks, placing a finger on her chin. She sticks her tongue out a tiny bit. “Hmmmm. Even if it's a selfish reason, it's okay, right? You're still helping people. If a rich man donated to an orphanage because he wanted to feel good about himself, then would you say he's a bad person?”

“Um, no,” says Uraraka Ochako, laughing. “I get what you mean. It's – not about the intent, I guess? The purpose? But the fact that I'm doing it…” she furrows her eyebrows, and then throws her arms around Asui Tsuyu's shoulders. Asui Tsuyu looks generally unfazed at this like she is at most things, continuing to look at her, blinking slowly.

It's so rewarding. For seven years, he planned it all. He wanted to become a hero and then watch as Todoroki Shouto blossomed in the soil of the narrative. Wanted to see his idol, Bakugou Katsuki, fight tooth and nail for his life and pride and always come out victorious. Wanted to see Uraraka Ochako, with bruised knuckles and nausea and grit teeth, disable her enemies and kick ass. And it's all here, right in front of him. Some days it doesn't even feel real, that he's here.

The sun is beating down on him.

He can't look directly at the sun. It's too bright. If he looks at it, he'll go blind. But the light that he can see can bathe his body. Can enlighten him on where he needs to go, what he needs to do. Even in fall, it's so hot. He thinks that when winter comes, the sun will still be there, waiting for him.

“ Kensei-sama ,” says Asui Tsuyu. Akatani Mikumo slowly grabs his thoughts and feeds them back into his brain. He turns to her, smiling, and she frowns a little bit but doesn't say anything about it. Uraraka Ochako hangs off of her shoulders, staring at him fiercely. “Why do you want to be a hero?”

“Hm?” Akatani Mikumo says. He smiles. The bell for lunch rings, and both of them look a bit put down by it, but they all stand up and begin to gather their trays anyway. Akatani Mikumo hums the entire way down, a slow song he knew when he wasn't alive, and he dumps the remainder of his rice into the trash can. He walks without waiting for the two of them, but they catch up quickly. Asui Tsuyu's gaze is even more penetrating than before, and Uraraka Ochako pokes him on the shoulder. “Ahhh, right… why does this Kensei-sama want to be a hero, you ask?”

“Yes,” says Asui Tsuyu. “You are a very mysterious person, Kensei. ”

“Ahaha, I don't mean to be.” He tilts his head back to look behind him, at the both of them. “Aha… okay, I'll tell you, but you have to close your eyes.” And funnily enough, they actually do, after a brief look of hesitation. When both of their eyes are shut, he says, “the reason I want to be a hero… is…”

…

And then he takes off running. “ A secret! ” he yells to them, with a two fingered salute as they open their eyes, and they both angrily chase after him to their next class. 

Why do you want to become a hero? He thinks it was for someone, while he twirls his pencil in his hand, not really paying attention to the teacher. School washes over him meaninglessly, and he doesn't know how he's expected to pay attention to normal classes while also thinking of things like the Sports Festival and Stain and the Forest Camp of Hell. 

Why do I want to become a hero? For his narrative, of course. For – for the narrative. For the narrative he adores so much that he'd willingly build it up with his own hands. If he were reincarnated as All For One he really thinks he might have done the same actions as him, if only to ensure that the story would play out as it should.

His perfect story. He smushes his face on his desk, covering his notebook from the view of Todoroki Shouto and Uraraka Ochako, and he writes down Bakugou Katsuki's name. He draws hearts around it like a stereotypical love-crazed girl might do for her crush. He allows the teacher's words to drown out of his skull. 

He wants to become a hero like Bakugou Katsuki, who can do anything without flinching, who was absolutely flawlessly brilliant during the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, who didn't even spare him a visit when he almost died but did still make him a get-well-soon card that pretty much said if you don't recover I'll put you out of your misery…

Ahhh…

“Midoriya-kun,” says Uraraka Ochako, nudging his arm. Akatani Mikumo looks up at her and hurriedly flips the page of his notebook before awkwardly smiling. “Can I see your notes later? If I flunk this math quiz then I'll never recover – like, mentally. And then I won't be able to compete in the Sports Festival at full capacity.”

“Oh,” Akatani Mikumo says, barely listening. His heart beats wildly in his chest. “Yeah, sure.”

“Nice,” Uraraka Ochako says. “Thank you, I~zu~ku~chan.”

…

Akatani Mikumo snaps the pencil in his hand. Oh, right! Uraraka Ochako looks at him, startled. Right, right, right! I didn't become a hero for my stupid narrative or whatever crap I said!!

I became a hero for Midoriya Izuku!!!!

He hadn't forgotten about this scene. It more so slipped his mind, which is frightening and embarrassing and a slough of other words that Akatani Mikumo could probably come up with if he tried hard enough, that's how shameful he feels. 

His ears burn red as his heart hammers around his ribs, trying to break free to feel all of the U.A. students crowding around the door with its own pulsing, bloody beat. Calm down, my traitorous heart , he dryly thinks, as he fidgets from where he's trying to put up his notebook without flinching at Bakugou Katsuki's explosions.

“Eh?! The fuck out of my way, you shitty extras!” sneers Bakugou Katsuki, in a distinctly Bakugou Katsuki sort of way. It makes Mikumo smile a little, even as his hands shake. Uraraka Ochako crosses her arms and huffs so loudly that it makes her cheeks puff up.

“Jeez, what losers,” Uraraka Ochako whispers. “They're acting like we chose to get attacked by villains.”

Kouji Kouda, who is not used to large crowds in comfortable settings, is being embraced by Shouji Mezou, who is a good friend who will hug you if you're upset with all, like, eight million of his arms.

Tokoyami Fumikage, swinging his legs over the floor while perched on a desk, mutters about the darkness of humanity's hearts and how, in an oppressive situation, the ideals of the masses will reveal themselves. Jirou Kyouka, who is punk rock enough to hang out with Tokoyami Fumikage, nods at everything he's saying with a disgusted glance at the crowd.

Kirishima Eijirou, desperately trying to do damage control because he doesn't like people tarnishing the names of his friends, scolds Bakugou Katsuki for being so overzealous all of the time. Iida Tenya and Yaoyorozu Momo, the vice and class presidents, both shout at the students (calmly) to get out of their way because class is over. 

Todoroki Shouto, the coolest of them all, gives a very cool glance to Akatani Mikumo. Probably because they're standing right next to each other. Todoroki Shouto shrugs a little and leans closer to him. His breath is cool against Akatani Mikumo's sun-kissed skin.

“They've been at it all week,” says Todoroki Shouto, with an irritated set to his mouth. “Trying to see the class that survived a villain attack.” Then, he turns to Mikumo fully with a small, strange smile, and he says, “and probably more people are here because they announced the Sports Festival today. And because of you.”

What?! “Aha,” Mikumo wheezes. “Todoroki Shouto, what do you m-mean, it's because I'm back?! Ah, did I do something?!” He can't help himself, even if he bites his tongue, because he's nervous. The words spew out of him. “Ah, ah, if I did something, I'll commit seppuku right here…”

“ Ronin don't even do seppuku, Midoriya-kun,” replies Todoroki Shouto, in such a flat joke that it takes Akatani Mikumo a second to realize that it was a joke. Then, because it's kind of funny, he does a different sort of wheeze like a balloon losing all of its air very fast. “Of course they're excited to see you. You almost died – that was a big thing. Your near departure.”

“Someone almost dies every day,” Mikumo argues, like this is even a point that matters. As if he doesn't know what Todoroki Shouto is implying at all. “They could care about that, instead.”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Todoroki Shouto says, and his eyes – which were a bit teasing – suddenly go into that signature icy glare, like he's remembering something horrible. 

Then, Akatani Mikumo is gracefully saved by one Shinsou Hitoshi.

…wait, Shinsou Hitoshi?! His heartbeat picks up and he drags his lingering gaze on Todoroki Shouto to Shinsou Fucking Hitoshi, who has probably a cooler quirk that Bakugou Katsuki, really – but Akatani Mikumo will deny that until the day he dies, because Bakugou Katsuki is much cooler. 

“So this is the infamous Class 1-A,” says he, shoving past people with a nurtured, restless determination. His gaze cuts through even Akatani Mikumo, who only briefly glances at him before staring at Uraraka Ochako instead. “I thought you all were arrogant… but you just sound like an asshole.”

Ah, right, talking to Bakugou Katsuki. Akatani Mikumo allows the familiar motions of the scene to wash over him with the aplomb of a cultured reader. Shinsou Hitoshi spits spiteful words at Class 1-A while everyone (even Uraraka Ochako, who leaves his side to defend her honor) denies the claims of Bakugou Katsuki acting as the class representative. It's familiar. It’s good. He thinks Todoroki Shouto is looking at him, but since this whole hold up will be over soon, he stops panicking about it. (Only a little. He only stops panicking a little.)

Of course, Shinsou Hitoshi doesn't just leave, because the universe hates Akatani Mikumo. Shinsou Hitoshi's eyes scan across the room before landing on him, and he does a disgusted little frown and he says, “Are you the quirkless guy?”

Uh oh. This certainly didn't happen. A lot of things that aren't supposed to happen just happen when he's around. Because Class 1-A is full of noisy assholes, the entire class turns to him, as if Akatani Mikumo is supposed to relay his status to everyone in the room. Akatani Mikumo braces his hands on his desk, stands up, and leans over his desk with a palm flat against it. 

“N…No,” he says, with a two fingered salute. “I am… super… quirked.”

“Tch. U.A.’s getting sloppy now, aren't they? How could they let a quirkless kid into the hero course?” Shinsou Hitoshi replies, grimacing.

Akatani Mikumo doesn't really take any offense to this – he isn't attached to the idea of being quirkless and being hated for it, after all. Midoriya Izuku can hold all of those unnecessary emotions for him. He just does a small shrug and then a mocking akanbe , just to watch the annoyed twitch in Shinsou Hitoshi's eyebrow.

…

But then, um, something weird happens.

“Hey, don't say that about my friend,” says Uraraka Ochako, stomping her feet and crossing her arms. She huffs angrily. “Midoriya-kun is a kenjutsu master ! A total Kensei-sama ! He could beat you in a swordfight any day!”

What, thinks Akatani Mikumo, as his stomach drops to the deepest regions of his body.

“Midoriya-kun saved my life,” says Asui Tsuyu, and even though her face is the same nonchalant blank, her voice trembles with contempt. “He’s really cool. Way cooler than you.”

Please don't tell people that, thinks Akatani Mikumo, because Shinsou Hitoshi is absolutely incredibly and undoubtedly way cooler than him. He wraps his arms around his head and tries doing breathing exercises.

“U.A. has a zero bullying policy,” says Iida Tenya, voice steely as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Nerd, Akatani Mikumo thinks, and he almost snorts. “If you feel prejudiced against those without quirks, then I have plenty of people you may talk with among the staff here.”

Stop it, please , thinks Akatani Mikumo, as all of his classmates come up to defend him. “He literally cut a guy's hand off!” shouts Kirishima Eijirou, who is the most supportive person ever. 

“He was so cool, it didn't even look like he pulled out his sword,” says Jirou Kyouka, twirling her earphone jacks around her finger while piercing Shinsou Hitoshi with a look of scorn. 

“Just because you didn't get enough sleep last night doesn't mean you can come and bully my friend,” says Ashido Mina, and this is especially confusing because Akatani Mikumo has not talked to her very much at all. Stop it… stop it…

“Urgk,” says Akatani Mikumo, weakly. Shinsou Hitoshi, a bit overwhelmed at how many hero students turned on him in a single instant, looks at him with haughty bewilderment. “Cut it out, guys…”

“ Kensei-sama, you have to teach this guy a lesson,” says Uraraka Ochako, nodding furiously. 

Shinsou Hitoshi looks a bit queasy. “Wait, I didn't mean –”

“ Kensei, should you take off this guy's hand, too?” says Hagakure Tooru, surprisingly close to him. “Like, iaido style? ”

“Say a cool line afterwards, kensei ,” says Kaminari Denki. “Like, ‘from the moment you spoke against me, your fate was decided!’”

“Please, quit it,” says Akatani Mikumo, feebly, and then the class all realizes that they're actually making him just a bit uncomfortable so they back off. But they do all give Shinsou Hitoshi a glare – sans Todoroki Shouto, who is still looking at him, and Bakugou Katsuki, who has begun to push past the crowd during the distraction. 

There are whispers around the crowd – kenjutsu? iaido? cut a man's hand off? quirkless? and Akatani Mikumo hates the whispers, so he furiously shoves all of his notebooks into his bookbag and scrambles to the crowd.

He summons all of his Bakugou Katsuki courage. It's not much because his heart feels squeezed like a lemon, but he manages to at least brush shoulders with Shinsou Hitoshi while he goes past and he doesn't even throw up or pass out or cry or anything. While he's going, he feels someone grab his shoulder, so he attempts to look up at them with an icy stare. Unfortunately, it might work a little, because Monoma Neito glares back harder with a twisted little grin. 

“Hey, now… don't get arrogant just because you survived a villain attack. Your friends might defend you, but you're still quirkless, aren't you?”

Jeez. Can everyone just leave him alone? Akatani Mikumo sighs and frowns at him.

“I-Isn't your quirk Copy ,” says Akatani Mikumo, with a little grimace. Monoma Neito looks immeasurably dismayed at the fact that Mikumo knows this information. “I mean – that's like – that's… whatever! I'm – leave m-me alone!!” 

Way to make a badass statement, Mikumo. God. He is the most embarrassing 15 year old ever. He should lock himself in his room and become a forum mod NEET with trash bags surrounding him, leeching off of his poor mother's funds. He shoves Monoma Neito's hand off of him and shoves past a bunch of other people, too, before he finally makes it out.

Urgugh. He wants to puke.

Instead of that, he just takes the bus home. No one waits with him.

An overdue meeting that he's been putting off (because he's scared and confused and a little pissed) happens without his consent, really. Toga Himiko texts him an address and tells him to put on clothes, and the next thing he knows, he's already walking to the destination. He’s a coward who could've avoided it forever, but he knows Toga Himiko knows where he lives.

That scares him more.

Him and Toga Himiko meet, funnily enough, at a 7/11. She buys instant ramen and three cuts of NanaChiki, which she doesn't share with Mikumo at all. 

Mikumo just buys one and they sit at a bench outside as she stuffs her packaged ramen in her bag while holding two NanaChiki’s in her hand and one in her mouth. Mikumo kind of admires her multitasking skills.

She's stays strangely silent the whole time. The sun is particularly beaming today, and it coils Akatani Mikumo's heart with fear. Sweat rolls down his back. She's all bundled up in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, and Akatani Mikumo doesn't get how she can stand to pretend it's so cold when it's so goddamn hot. He leans back on the bench and bites into his NanaChiki.

It's warm. FamiChiki is better, though. Hahaha.

“Isn't it funny,” says Toga Himiko, “that even though we're in a fantasy world, 7/11 still exists?”

“I don't see why it wouldn't,” says Akatani Mikumo, who secretly hates the existence of 7/11 that assures him his existence is a little bit normal – that this world is built off of references to his own, which makes it hard to disconnect from reality. “I mean… I get donuts here sometimes.”

“That's great,” Toga Himiko says.

He sits up, and sweat drips from his forehead. He wipes it with his bare arm, and he bites into his NanaChiki.

Akatani Mikumo does not know how to feel about Toga Himiko.

“It's all very sexy and fun, is what it is,” says Toga Himiko. Her mouth is stuffed with NanaChiki. “Ah, I should have bought drinks. All of this is very exciting. A new life for me. It's not like if I survived I would have had anyone to live for. I should be thankful about all of it, right? It's hard, though,” she mumbles, and she tips her head back so Akatani Mikumo can stare at her golden slit pupil eyes, and the sun catches on her fangs. 

“I used to be normal. Just a girl on a chess team. And now I have to… to ruin this place because I don't want to be a villain. I don't want to kill people.”

Don't you? “Actually,” says Akatani Mikumo, “that's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, no no no. This isn't about me. I invited you out, didn't I,” says Toga Himiko, pinning him in place with a glare. He runs his fingers over his palms and quiets down, shoulders hiked up, and he makes the motion for a two fingered salute self contained in his lap. “You said after it was all over, you'd tell me about yourself, Kensei. I want to know. I told you about me.”

“I didn't –” Mikumo says, ask you to, but he keeps his mouth shut for another second. He stares at the sun, and he can't look directly at it, so he just lets his eyes burn in the cascading light that feels warm on his face. 

He heaves a shuddering breath. He doesn't know what to feel about Toga Himiko, or Takeyama Yu, or any of it, really. If she had just never transmigrated, then he would be fine. His narrative would go perfectly. It's not – his presence doesn't ruin that much because he's a mob character, but Toga Himiko will actively go against what the narrative wants.

I should have just killed her , he bitterly thinks. He sucks in another breath through his teeth, and cold air dries his tongue. “...fine. Fine! Fine, Himichan! Since you're forcing my hand. Everyone just keeps wanting to have conversations with me, really…”

“Is that so bad?” Toga Himiko says, eyebrow raised. “You don't seem like a total social wreck – well, maybe a little.”

“Urgk,” Mikumo replies. He breathes in. Calms down. 

“I'm – not. It's just – don't you feel it? It's… everything is so – so much more, when the people around are – are real. All of this –” he gestures to people coming in and out of stores next to them, people sliding coins into vending machines and buying cold soda – "it's all so fake, I can't stand it… but it's easier to talk to people when they're fake. It’s… so hard. Seriously, and Todoroki Shouto keeps talking to me – not the point.”

He sighs and rubs his knuckle into the space between his eyes. It only makes his headache worse. “Not the fucking point. I – I’m no one special. I'm just like you – fucking high school student thinking I'll just be normal until I die and then I actually get run over in a fucking underpas somewhere. Fuck.”

“...” Toga Himiko is silent. He turns his head to look at her as he digs his fingernails underneath his fingernails, flicking off dirt. She looks away from him and to the sun, stuffing her mouth with NanaChiki, so he just – keeps talking.

“And I – it's good. I like it here. I like it here because I have – a fucking purpose here. I'm becoming a hero and shit. And you –” he chokes on it ( coward! liar! ), “you come in and you're about to… to ruin everything. Haven't you fucking heard of the butterfly effect, Himichan?!”

“I don't believe in psuedo-science bullshit like that,” replies she. “I don't want to be a villain. So I won't be.”

…

Fuck. Fuck. Mikumo stares at her. “You're being really selfish right now,” he says. She flinches. “Yeah, you're being – really selfish. It doesn't fucking matter if you – you kill people or whatever the fuck, it's not like it’s your own goddamn body! You don't even know what the fuck even happens! You're so goddamn important to so many arcs and you're just gonna – gonna –”

“I don't want to be a villain,” replies she. Her voice is even. She doesn't even look at him, and he must look a mess, face red and shoulders trembling. “So I won't.”

“It's not about what you want,” Mikumo says. “It's the narrative.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Toga Himiko. “Then why the fuck did you save Asui Tsuyu?”

…

Mikumo is silent. He hunches, carries his hands back to his lap and starts tracing kanji in them. Why did he save Asui Tsuyu? 

He doesn't know. 

He knew everything would play out like it was supposed to, so why did he save her? It's not like he has to be the most self sacrificial hero in the world. If Asui Tsuyu got a little bit hurt, Todoroki Shouto would have saved her and would have taken all of the proper glory he deserved. Why did his hands just move? He chanted iaido in his head and then barely saw Shigaraki Tomura's hand fall to the ground.

It'll probably be back. All For One must have some regenerative quirk. But now Shigaraki Tomura will want to kill him extra hard. And…

“I don't know,” he mumbles. “I got scared. That's what you want me to say? I'm scared.”

“Hmmmm,” says Toga Himiko. “I'm gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“Um,” Mikumo says, shaking a little. “A melon soda, please.”

“Mkay,” she replies, and she stands up. When she comes back, she buries the cold melon soda in his hair and lets go before he can hold it, and it takes his excellent reaction speed for him to grab it before it tumbles to the ground. He pops the cap. Carbonated bubbles fizz up on his thumbnail.

“I don't know what you're talking about with the whole real people fake people thing,” says Toga Himiko. Mikumo's stomach drops. His heart seizes, and he takes a sip of melon soda. “I think that's just a you problem, and you sound like a psychopath or something. But, unfortunately, you're the guy I'm stuck with. Ugh, ” she groans, “why couldn't it have been someone normal?”

“Come on,” Mikumo weakly replies.

“You aren't going to change my choice,” Toga Himiko says. “If I ever decide to be a villain, then I will. If I stay a citizen my whole life, that's how it is. If, suddenly, I apply for Shiketsu for my second year, then whatever. It's none of your business and none of your fault and if you yell at me about it again I'll punch you.”

“Ahhh,” says Mikumo. “I have a particularly traumatic history pertaining to punches, my friend.”

“Yes, that's why I'll hit you between the ribs.”

“Ahhh,” he sighs. “So you really aren't going to the League? You could make up a whole story. I actually made one up for you. The heroes didn't help you even when you needed help because of your villainous quirk, so you broke out of holding and returned to the League…”

“No way,” Toga Himiko says. She drinks her cherry soda in one huge gulp. “That's pretty good, though. Makes total sense.” She pauses. “And it's not like I don't care about the big story. I mean, of course I do. I just… I don't want to play the villain. There's a whole fucking… thing that's bigger than us happening. I don't want to fuck up and die.”

“That's just great, isn't it,” Mikumo replies, bitter.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. The sound of the road fills the gaps between their minced words. Akatani Mikumo finishes his melon soda and tosses it into the nearest trash can.

…

“Ah, what the hell. I hate leaving on bad terms. Let's go to the arcade and vape like normal stupid teenagers do,” Toga Himiko finally says, after a while.

“I have to prepare for the Sports Festival,” Mikumo replies, because he doesn't want to go to the arcade with Toga Himiko.

“Well, fine, then,” Toga Himiko says, smiling impishly. “I'll help you train for the Sports Festival, Kensei. ”

Akatani Mikumo has no time to relish in the horrifying implications that his reaction to talking to real people is a him problem, because Toga Himiko makes him do push-ups in the park while she sits on his back and chastises him for being a weak bitch.

Yaoyorozu Momo is an angel. Akatani Mikumo is convinced of this fact.

She's willing to spar with him, for one. Everyone else had conveniently left Akatani Mikumo out of their after-school group sparring sessions. He doesn't have to guess why: he's quirkless, so he's more fragile. Or his sword is too lethal. Either way, he's a piece of glass – easy to break, sharp enough to sting. Unpredictability is fear, and he is unpredictable.

…but Yaoyorozu Momo smiles at him and says, "Midoriya-kun, would you care to spar with me?” So for a while, it becomes a thing. At least for the Sports Festival preparations. She's an angel and a goddess sent from above to improve the angle of his strikes. Their martial arts balance well with each other. She laughs politely at his jokes, smiles when he stutters out that she's improving, and looks determined to win the Sports Festival at all costs.

The utter image of a splendid young woman! A sophisticated young woman! A nice person! Yaoyorozu Momo is truly suited to Todoroki Shouto!! Thinking about them in holy matrimony brings a lift to Akatani Mikumo's infinitely sinking heart.

Because she is an angel, it is out of the blue when she asks, “Do you have a crush on Uraraka?”

“ Urgk ,” Akatani Mikumo replies, choking on an energy drink. In a mostly empty gym, he sputters as Yaoyorozu Momo pats his back. They've both finished training for today, and he was in the middle of letting his bones relax before he heaved his stuff home. “Wh-What?! Huh?! What?!”

“Oh dear,” Yaoyorozu Momo replies. “It was just out of curiosity. You don't have to tell me.”

“I don't ,” he coughs. Aware that he's blushing, he sniffles. “I don't have a crush on Ochachan. T-That would be gross. A-And weird! She's – my…”

…friend? No, that's not right.

What are they? Aha, uh…

“It isn't like that,” he insists, at Yaoyorozu Momo's disbelieving expression. He pulls out the trump card that he used to use in Normal High School, where rumors spread like wildfire: “I'm gay!”

“ Oh! ” Yaoyorozu Momo gasps. She raises her hand to her mouth, as if hearing about a scandal. “Oh dear! I'm sorry if I forced you to say that –”

“N-No, you didn't,” Akatani Mikumo backtracks, regretting it. “B-But I'm gay, so…”

Here's the thing: Akatani Mikumo doesn't know what the fuck he is. A lot of the time, he questions his place in life, his motives for continuing to live, and his reasons for his actions. He's a liar to everyone – including himself – so it's natural for him to get tangled up in the web of lies that he weaves. He's not gay, certainly, because he's only dreamed of fictional characters. He isn't straight, probably. 

But being gay is easier than being straight when it comes to rumors. As long as you're gay, no one can really accuse you of liking a girl just because you want to talk to her. He’d rather be bullied for that .

“Oh,” Yaoyorozu Momo repeats. Then, to Akatani Mikumo's horror, a small and mischievous smile curves on her face. She narrows her eyes and giggles. “I see… I understand, Midoriya-kun. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Huh,” Akatani Mikumo says. “Um… thanks?”

“It's no problem,” Yaoyorozu Momo coughs. She leans forward. “So what is it about him? His shunted personality? His good looks? I must warn you, you'll have lots of competition in the department of love… if he can cool down a bit, of course. But, hmmm… I don't know much… Do you like the loner attitude, Midoriya-kun?”

Akatani Mikumo feels like they're having two distinct and unrelated paths of thought. “Huh?”

“I understand completely. I won't tell anyone, but I’m encouraging you. I'll be there all of the way.”

“What,” Akatani Mikumo says.

“It would be good for me, too. Just because me and him are friends doesn't mean we're dating. I fear I might be… like you, anyway. I've never felt any attraction towards him, but since he’s a boy and I am a girl, things start. It's a win-win for both of us.”

“What the f-fuck are you saying to me,” says Akatani Mikumo.

“Your crush on Todoroki Shouto,” Yaoyorozu Momo says. She nods, like this is even true at all, and ignores how Akatani Mikumo lets out a high pitched shriek of embarrassment.

“My what ,” Akatani Mikumo says, after shrieking. He can feel how fucking shamefully red his stupid fucking face is. Suddenly, even though Yaoyorozu Momo probably means it in good fun, he wants to die. He wants to die because he hadn't considered a crush on Todoroki Shouto, and he probably doesn't have one on Todoroki Shouto, but what if he does, and oh my god did Yaoyorozu Momo (Todoroki Shouto's future wife) say that she's gay? What the fuck is going on? What?

He thinks he's doing very good at not hyperventilating. “I don't have that,” he says, insistently, biting his lip. “I – I don't even talk to him.”

“That doesn't matter, Midoriya-kun… at least, I don't think so,” Yaoyorozu Momo hums thoughtfully.

Yaoyorozu Momo, who is apparently gay. Yaoyorozu Momo, who was never gay in the novel. This isn't… right.

It's not right. And because it's not right and because Toga Himiko isn't here to interfere, the only person he can blame is himself.

Of course. Even when he just lives, he's ruining the bright future for others. Just surviving is a crime that's punished by making other people suffer. How does he even make up for that? How does he repent for shaking the universe so slightly off balance that Todoroki Shouto loses the woman that he slowly falls for? What does he do? What the fuck does he –

I should just die .

He smiles widely. The corners of his mouth twitch. “It’s not like that,” he says. “I think… I want to go home now.”

Akatani Mikumo trains to death in his free time. Nakamura-sensei, emboldened by his loss of his old, inferior sword, works him to the bone. 

Then he goes to U.A. and he is similarly worked to the bone. 

Aizawa-sensei, who has a surprising amount of knowledge about proper kenjutsu techniques, makes him swing his sword properly for an hour straight during quirk practice because Yamikumo is basically his quirk at this point, and every day he comes home with aching arms and sweat moistening his entire body.

For the weeks of preparation, his mind feels coiled up in the same springy way that the entrance exam made him feel. It's funny, because the Sports Festival is genuinely less important for his place in the narrative than the entrance exam was, but it still makes him work harder than ever. 

It doesn't help that everyone around him is just as determined as he is – and it definitely doesn't help his self esteem, to be on the same level of training as his classmates while lacking half of the conviction – but.

The world chugs on. He perseveres, bleeds, and swings Yamikumo until it feels like a third limb. 

One day, Kirishima Eijirou practices hardening his body by having Akatani Mikumo whack him with Yamikumo , and Akatani Mikumo is impressed that his sword doesn't break or even scratch when it bangs against Kirishima Eijirou's natural armor. “Wow,” says Kirishima Eijirou. “Total samurai, Midoriya!”

…

When Akatani Mikumo wakes up on the day of the Sports Festival, he stares down the mirror, hoping for the universe to send him a sign. Of good fortune or happiness or whatever. 

Then, when he goes to brush his teeth, the cap on the bristles breaks under his grip immediately. The thought is unfairly easy, sickeningly familiar: I should just die.

Shamefully, this is enough to stress him out to the point of crying quietly, but life continues away, so he brushes his teeth and he goes to school earlier than usual, feeling lightheaded and thoughtless. He wrestles into his gym uniform, files out to the waiting rooms, and thinks about nothing at all.

Uraraka Ochako, a light of both hope and despair in the dark comedy that is his life, punches the air in swift fists with a brutal grin on her face. Akatani Mikumo watches her do this while sitting on the waiting room's benches. “Are you ready, Kensei-sama ?!” she shouts, startling him. “I'm going to kick! Some! Ass!!! ”

“Plus Ultra,” blandly replies Akatani Mikumo, with a fist raised in the air.

As normal, Todoroki Shouto makes a heated yet cold challenge to Bakugou Katsuki. Akatani Mikumo watches the exchange with hungry eyes. After it, though, while Kirishima Eijirou is scolding Todoroki Shouto for being very unmanly, Todoroki Shouto's eyes linger on Akatani Mikumo for too long to be considered an accident. Urgk.

It seems, in itself, like another challenge. Akatani Mikumo, in refusal, smiles and gives a two-fingered salute with shaking hands.

And then, well, Akatani Mikumo steps out into the crowd with his hand on Yamikumo , and he looks for Toga Himiko in the audience (whom he doesn't see because wow there are a lot of people), and…

…

I should just die.

It's unfair. It's easy. He doesn't know what to do about it, so instead of listening to anyone else, he allows himself the one thought:

I should just die, I should just die, I should just die.

 

“...’I'm going to become a hero without using my father's quirk –’

 

‘Your father, dumbass?!’ said Bakugou Katsuki, who dodged the incoming wave of packed ice with a well-timed explosion. His palms reeked of his nitroglycerin fueled sweat. His eyes were burning in anger. He clenched his jaw, and he ran to Todoroki Shouto, furious. ‘Why the fuck do you keep looking at Endeavor?! I'm your fucking opponent, asshole!’

 

Todoroki Shouto was shocked at Bakugou Katsuki's words. Even though they came from a spiteful place of anger, Todoroki Shouto was reminded of what All Might told him. He looked at Bakugou Katsuki's movements and they showed that the boy was trying his best to beat him and was frustrated with Todoroki Shouto's unwillingness to compete fairly. 

 

Todoroki Shouto began to laugh.”

 

– My Hero Academia

“I'm gonna win,” says Bakugou Katsuki, a bold declaration to the crowd. Class 1-A all collectively cringe in embarrassment as the crowd heckles their representative’s arrogant attitude. Akatani Mikumo regretfully turns to Yaoyorozu Momo, who sinks in shame. 

Since she's probably thinking mean thoughts like if only the actual representatives were chosen to go up there, then we'd make a speech that could make our class and school proud! , Akatani Mikumo shuffles over to her.

“Sorry, Yaoyorozu,” Akatani Mikumo says, morosely. Yaoyorozu Momo looks at him sadly with a hand held over her heart. He tries a tight smile. “That's just how Bakugou Katsuki is. He's super bold, isn't he…”

“I'm accustomed to it at this point,” Yaoyorozu Momo sighs. “Honestly, I can't help but respect him a little.” Unfortunately, his heart jumps at this. “Having the courage to stand in front of hundreds with a short, blunt speech like that… and it isn't as if he's incapable. In fact, I'd be surprised if he wasn't at least a finalist.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Akatani Mikumo gleefully says. “Bakugou Katsuki is really awesome, isn't he? His quirk is so cool, and he's got a super ‘I can do anything’ attitude that might piss some people off, but his real strength is the fact that he can do anything, right? It's awesome. Bakugou Katsuki is totally awesome, right?!”

Yaoyorozu Momo smiles at him, a bit confused, and Akatani Mikumo loudly laughs to shuck off the horrible pit in his stomach. God, he can't shut his mouth for a second, can he?! He should just die!

Then her smile goes all sly with a very teenager look, and she looks around and then leans closer to Akatani Mikumo as Present Mic blares on the speakers. “Could it be, Midoriya-kun, that you have a crush on Bakugou Katsuki instead?”

“I thought you were better than this,” replies Akatani Mikumo, in a flat voice, ignoring how the tips of his ears turn red. 

Yaoyorozu Momo holds a hand to her mouth to disguise her laughter. It does not work, and Akatani Mikumo stares at her in disdain. It's a nice distraction from the soon-to-be humiliating first round.

An obstacle course! How the hell is he supposed to get past an obstacle course? He's quirkless, for one! Even if Yaoyorozu Momo can't blast herself into the sky with Creation, she can still create, like, bombs to do it with! He has pretty much nothing, and will continue to have nothing until the blissful moment where he can retire to the stands. He wouldn't be worrying about this if he were dead, right?! I should just die.

As the moment draws nearer, every announcement begins to wash over him. 

Instead of taking it all in with an intense orchestra movement, he moreso sinks into nothingness until he reaches the precipice; once he's at the starting line, his brain decides to step out of lethargic, protective motion, and he – well, for lack of a better term, he attempts to lock the fuck in, because he doesn't want to do so well that he breezes through the competition (something guaranteed to never happen) but he also doesn't want to slip on Todoroki Shouto's ice on national television.

Because the facilities are nice to him, he gets to experience the past ecstasy of hearing the speakers say go , running into the fray, and cleanly decapitating a robot with the mindlessness of a ronin with his beautiful Yamikumo.

“You know what, Sunada Yuichi… I could get used to this crap,” he says. Yamikumo feels fucking amazing in his hands. 

Because people are generally very squishy and easy to kill and he's not allowed to use lethal weapons during normal combat training, he hasn't gotten to feel Yamikumo slice into anything since he's acquired it. 

God, the wind rushes through his hair as he sheathes his weapon and, with consideration for the minefields, grabs a loose piece of scrap from a destroyed boy. “I could totally get used to this crap…!!!”

Oh, thank god, thinks Akatani Mikumo, as he soars through the air. 

The sensation is both freeing and nauseating, and his ribs begin to ache in a dull, phantom way that he doesn't want to think about. So he doesn't! Instead, tears spring to his eyes in vibrant relief as he rapidly approaches the finish line. Thank god!!! I played my cards right!!!

Todoroki Shouto is already there. And Bakugou Katsuki, too!!

Oh, thank god!!! I'm not fucking first!!!!!

In the novel, Hatsume Mei is a side character from Class H of Support. A brash and off-putting “eccentric scientist” archetype, the author once admitted to only writing her because he liked those types of characters in other mangas and TV shows, and that she was originally going to be a male but was changed last minute because of user feedback. 

Akatani Mikumo cringes at those times – it’s all well and good knowing that there are, well, girls in My Hero Academia, but only because he honestly feels more comfortable hanging out with girls.

Guys are just… mean. Whatever. Not the point. He can lament over the past teasing he used to endure from his male classmates later. The point is that he would have felt better if Hatsume Mei was just made to be a character and not specifically a girl just for fanservice.

“You're the quirkless lad, hmmmmm?” Hatsume Mei slaps his back, making him jump in surprise. He rubs the knobs of his spine with his knuckle, looking spitefully at her, and she grins a large grin that makes him shudder. “That's great… that's great…!!! Who knew I'd get such a lovely opportunity handed to me!?!”

“What,” says Akatani Mikumo, who hates his life. Beside him, Uraraka Ochako looks rightfully upset at Hatsume Mei's lack of boundaries.

“Midoriya-kun! Uraraka-kun! Please… will you help me show my beautiful babies to the audience?! Branding is a very important part of a support student's mission!!!! It is!!!! When I make it big, you'll be at the top of my list! Highest priority!”

“You're making a lot of promises,” Uraraka Ochako points out.

“A lot of promises,” Hatsume Mei replies, a twinkle in her evil, evil eyes, “that I can fulfill. ”

Then in the calvary, she ruins Akatani Mikumo's life by doing just that. 

When, at some point, their team ends up with a million points (because a team event means Akatani Mikumo can't force himself to stay obscure – if he brings down his favorite characters, what would he do??), Akatani Mikumo gives a two fingered salute to a bewildered Yaoyorozu Momo and Todoroki Shouto with a face equally as disheveled before Hatsume Mei makes all of their feet blast into the air.

They end up in fourth place. Akatani Mikumo is happy about this. He really is, until he sees the matchups for the final event of the Sports Festival.

The universe hates him. It really does. 

He would have been fine taking – maybe Iida Tenya's place, or something. But instead he's just a stepping stone once again, and he's fine with that, he really is. He nervously sheathes and unsheathes Yamikumo as Midnight goes on and on about the 1v1s. At some point, a worried Uraraka Ochako trots up to him, smiling nervously.

“Are you scared?” she says, and she pushes his temple a little with her index. Akatani Mikumo swallows the thick, festering worms in his throat and tries to smile back. “Don't be, okay?! It'll be okay. We'll be okay!!!”

“Right,” says Akatani Mikumo, feeling distantly like this day could not get any more terrible for his conflicting, contradicting antagonist of the story named his mind. 

He grins widely. Uraraka Ochako looks a bit scared of him, so he tries to smile harder. He smiles so hard that he can't see. 

“You're right, Ochachan…! Let's… do… our… best!!!! Our best!!!”

Just lose.

He can't win here. If he wins, then Todoroki Shouto never fights Shinsou Hitoshi. If he wins, then he'll be embarrassed on live television. If he wins, then Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki's fight might be different, and different is especially bad here. So he can't win. He has to lose. On purpose.

And it's okay. It's not like he would have won against any of the other contestants anyway. 

The only thing he has is his absurd kenjutsu skills, which equate to basically nothing in the hero world, probably. He has nothing to support them, he has no metal bending power or vampiric ability. He's just a boy with a sharp sword playing hero. So he's fine , and everything is fine , and it'll all be okay in the end, and he's fine!!

…

Why is he so… emotional? His hands are shaking. 

He doesn't really understand why, but the best answer he can come up with is that he's honestly, truly upset with how this fight will go. He doesn't… understand why he's upset, is the thing.

Shinsou Hitoshi lazily and confidently walks on stage, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his mouth curled into a catlike smirk. Present Mic screams on the announcements about Shinsou Hitoshi's appearance – something about looking like Aizawa-sensei? The finer details don't matter.

He wants to swing Yamikumo again.

He knows he can't. Making a fool of himself when he knows the plan would be embarrassing for him, later. He knows what he has to do, for everything to be right in the world, but…

He doesn't. Want. To lose.

I should just die. It's easier than public humiliation. Just slit your throat on television. It's not your body, anyway…

He's not the most righteous person in the world. If Shinsou Hitoshi kept talking, surely something would strike Akatani Mikumo so personally that it would brainwash him in an instant, but anything to do with his quirklessness or his lack of talent – that's all stuff he can ignore. 

Has been ignoring, really, because he doesn't care about anyone slinging names at him unless it's Bakugou Katsuki. 

But for the few moments he has, he's sure he can cross the distance and threaten Shinsou Hitoshi with the tip of Yamikumo until the other boy backs himself right off of the course.

He can actually imagine it, while Present Mic explains the conditions for victory. It's the first match, and Midoriya Izuku has gotten an easy win. He looks to the bleachers to see his friends waving at him with excited smiles on their faces. 

Uraraka Ochako cheers for him, even though he did basically nothing at all. Kirishima Eijirou's eyes glance to a solemn Todoroki Shouto, and from the stands, he mouths are you going to be alright? And in this world, Midoriya Izuku raises his sword in defiance. It's so manly that Kirishima Eijirou laughs and whoops loudly for him.

…

Why does he want to do that so badly? His hands itch for his weapon.

The perfect mob character. I'll be the perfect mob character. Really, no one will do it like me. I'll be the perfect stepping stone for Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki's epic fight, which will be so intense and energy-packed that the stadium will fly away… their classmates will be awed by their sheer energy, and Todoroki Shouto will once and for all be encouraged to shed his quirk's history and ties with his father to embrace it as his own. This will be – he sniffs, – crucial to the Hero Killer…

At some point, they were told to begin. His thoughts just – just… leak out of his ears, like always. The sun beats down on his bare arms, and his hand twitches on the hilt of Yamikumo.

“So,” Shinsou Hitoshi says. “The quirkless wonder of Class 1-A. Honestly, I'm impressed.”

Answer here .

“I mean, let's be real – you shouldn't even be there. How'd you get in without a quirk at all, when I couldn't even get in using a stupid villain quirk, huh? Are you listening to me? How did you do it, quirkless freak? Or are you lying about it? Do you have a quirk after all?”

Answer here. Right now! “Actually, I got in by –”

“...haha, I guess that tail-brain must have told you about my power…” Shinsou Hitoshi laughs, a grating sound, and Akatani Mikumo can really barely hear it – “You aren't going to talk? At all? Not even going to move? I think it was pretty damn stupid of him to drop out of the whole thing. Just wasted an opportunity, just like that. Why? Because of his pride? Because he didn't feel like he won enough? Don't you know that all of you hero students are the same? Blessed with talented quirks, so you can do whatever you want in life… don't you feel the same way, if you're really quirkless? You have to put in two times the effort to get half as much as these overpowered bastards, don't you?”

“You shouldn't talk about my friend that way,” he should say. He doesn't. He kicks up sand, and Shinsou Hitoshi curses under his breath.

“Midoriya,” Shinsou Hitoshi says.

“Yes, sir!” replies Akatani Mikumo, entirely too loudly, and he even gets to do a two fingered salute before his mind goes completely and utterly blank. 

Shinsou Hitoshi looks at him with disgusted awe, like he can't quite comprehend that Akatani Mikumo threw away his match like that, but – but. 

Akatani Mikumo's thoughts are perfectly blank, like sticking your hand in a clean aquarium. And hearing everything around him is hard, too, like his head has been dipped in that same tank of water, but his feet are moving before he really realizes they are.

This is kind of great, isn't it?!

I should just die.

It's not. He wanted to – it's seriously frustrating, but he wanted to swing his sword at least once.

I should just die.

He loses. His feet take him to the edge of the arena. He fights against it so badly even though it's a contradiction because he wants to lose that, for a brief, flickering second, his feet stop at the edge and try to backtrack. Then Shinsou Hitoshi's presence in his mind feels louder for a second, and he steps over the edge anyway, eyes blank.

I should just die…!!!!!

Of course he does. That was the plan the entire time. He probably will get a paltry amount of internships and he will be once again shunned for his inability to act. Toga Himiko will be the only one to not question why he made this choice. It stings deep in his core, but he ignores it. 

Because he's fine, and everything is okay. He's totally living his side character dreams right now! Totally!!! He's the preliminary round in the Sports Festival, for one – to introduce Shinsou Hitoshi's character properly, before Todoroki Shouto faces him!! It's perfect!!! He's the perfect mob character!!! He flashes a smile to Uraraka Ochako, who looks a little worried about him, and then for reassurance he gives her a thumbs up.

Because it's all okay. Even though the crowd is booing because they didn't want Shinsou Hitoshi to win with such cowardly tactics – even though he lost without showing the world what he could do (why is he even thinking about that) – even though, from the corner of his eye, he can see Shinsou Hitoshi grow exponentially frustrated with him – it's all okay!! 

Because he's the perfect mob character!! Someone who uplifts the heroes of the story while staying a comfortable and relaxing distance away from the greater scheme of things! 

Someone like Ojirou Mashirao or Yaoyorozu Momo or Kaminari Denki, who have their particular moments to shine but otherwise are not focused on as much in comparison to the shining stars of the novel!!!

He's the ultimate mob character!!!!! So everything!!!! Is completely! Fucking! Fine!

He thinks that Uraraka Ochako's expression is even more worried now. With a smile, he hurriedly runs down the stairs of the arena to get back to the locker areas, but Shinsou Hitoshi grabs his arm on the way down. 

When Akatani Mikumo turns back, face flushed and heart beating, Shinsou Hitoshi is scowling fiercely at him. 

He's furious. Aha ! 

Akatani Mikumo doesn't know why he's so mad – didn't he win? In the end, they're both mob characters! They might get an important arc or two, but they will never be as important as Bakugou Katsuki or Todoroki Shouto!!

“You –” Shinsou Hitoshi stutters, “You let me win. ”

“No I didn't,” says Akatani Mikumo, who is a filthy liar who lies. “You won fair and square, Shinsou Hitoshi!!”

“N-No, I – you just – you gave that to me, I know Ojirou gave you my quirk – and – and you didn't even give me a real answer, you fuck, why did you do that? ”

Akatani Mikumo, who is happy (he is a filthy liar who lies), cannot help but smile and laugh in Shinsou Hitoshi's face. He turns to face him fully.

“Why wouldn't I be happy,” Akatani Mikumo says. “I have everything I could need, right here.”

“...what?”

“Ahaha, what?! Hey, have fun against Todoroki Shouto, ” says Akatani Mikumo, because he had already thought of his excuse – what sort of quirkless person would logically fight against Todoroki Shouto, or even Bakugou Katsuki? 

Aha ! Not him, that's for sure! 

Because he's a total mob character! An underdog story never brought to fruition! Shinsou Hitoshi, as if he hadn't thought about that, carries a look of slight horror on his face. “I'm g-going to go sulk in my s-sadness now! Because I-I lost…! On! Accident!!”

He yanks his arm out of Shinsou Hitoshi's grip and his hand doesn't leave the hilt of Yamikumo until he's in the waiting rooms.

He slams himself against a wall in the lockers and curls his hand into a fist. He's shaking, but he doesn't know why, because this is the right outcome. 

He's happy. He's happy! 

What, did he want to get totally smacked around by Todoroki Shouto on television! Plus, he's quirkless – even overcoming Shinsou Hitoshi would be completely wrong, like in the original!! Shinsou Hitoshi always goes on to try and brainwash Todoroki Shouto by antagonizing him about his father, and Todoroki Shouto will then be confronted by the past holders of One For All, and everything will be fine.

Ugh. This is so stupid. It's not like he would have been any good if he went against Todoroki Shouto anyway. He doesn't know why he feels so bad about it. 

Ahaha… unless it's because he wants to impress his friends?

The thought of a side character trying their best to finally gain recognition in their friends’ eyes is familiar, because it's a very typical side character story. Hell, Yaoyorozu Momo is a side character and she goes through a similar arc, but at least she's actually capable. 

Akatani Mikumo, a complete alien to this world, shouldn't even have the luxury of being so close to all of his favorite characters. Clawing his way through kenjutsu just for a chance to see it all in bloom should be enough for him.

“Um,” says someone. Akatani Mikumo probably knows who it is (his veins bubble, pop, crack, and his breathing picks up, and his headache hurts so badly that he thinks his head might just explode), but he pretends he doesn't hear him anyway. 

He doesn't know why, but he does get a sickening fluttering feeling in his chest when Todoroki Shouto lays a hand on his arm in an awkwardly comforting gesture. Then he feels guilty about it, because who the fuck is he to manipulate Todoroki Shouto into caring about him?

“Aha, um, hi,” says Akatani Mikumo, lowering his balled fists from his eyelids. He tries to smile. Todoroki Shouto glares back, vaguely frustrated and concerned. Eek! “Todoroki S-Shouto. Sorry, I…”

“Why are you crying,” says Todoroki Shouto, very bluntly. His eyebrows furrow – he doesn't understand. “You lost on purpose, didn't you?”

“W-Whaaaaaahahahaat. Me,” replies Akatani Mikumo, who furiously wipes tears from his cheeks with his palms. Unfortunately, his face feels warm underneath. He knows he doesn't have a crush on Todoroki Shouto (honestly, if anyone, he’d like to be in love with Bakugou Katsuki!), but he seriously doesn't know how he’s supposed to defend himself when he acts like this. To compensate, he leans against the lockers and tries a smug grin. It does not land. “ Lose. On p-purpose. No way. No way in hell.”

“You definitely lost on purpose,” Todoroki Shouto says. “I have no doubts in my mind that you lost on purpose. Why did you…”

“I didn't lose on purpose,” says Akatani Mikumo, aware that the desperate edge in his voice may lead to an insanity charge and have him sent to an asylum or something, but – “I didn't. I didn't! I – I lost on – on accident, and I'm c-crying because I'm just really c-cut up about it!!”

“You're not , though,” says Todoroki Shouto, and now he's a little angry, too. “I wanted to…”

“What, f-fight me? ” Akatani Mikumo does a sharp laugh. “I-I already…”

The intercom system announces that the short break is over and they'll move on to their next competition soon. 

Todoroki Shouto's fight leaves his eyes and his shoulders sag before he stretches his arms and glares at Akatani Mikumo again. Mikumo really wishes the guy would stop looking at him, or talking to him in general, because he's supposed to be a mob character and having arguments about the legitimacy of his loss to the main character isn't what mob characters do!!

“Let's talk after my match,” says Todoroki Shouto, in a way that leaves basically no room for disagreement. 

Like a man being sentenced to life in jail and eventually death, Akatani Mikumo just slumps against the lockers and shrugs with a nod. Todoroki Shouto's cold gaze pierces his headache and it kind of feels like the guy just gave him a brain freeze spontaneously, and then he turns his back and leaves the locker room.

“Just kill me,” says Akatani Mikumo. “Just shoot me dead. Just end me right here. Toga Himiko, if you can hear me… I'd love it if you could take one of those shiny kitchen knives and just slit my throat right now…” 

And then he hears the sound of explosions popping in someone's palm, and Bakugou Katsuki, from down the hall, says Deeeee-kuuuu . “Wow, actually, I have to go,” Akatani Mikumo says, and he barges out of the room in the opposite hallway before smashing his nose against someone else's body.

“Oh, fuck me,” says Akatani Mikumo, who knows that this is going to be some other unfortunate talk by the way his heart picks up and rams against the bars of its cage, “That's – I'm sorry, I wasn't –”

“Midoriya,” says Shinsou Hitoshi, a little breathless. Then he grips Akatani Mikumo's shoulders with fury, and he practically growls, “you let me win. ” and wow, Akatani Mikumo didn't think anyone would care all too much, but it seems like everyone cares more than they're supposed to. 

Akatani Mikumo, being shaken back and forth by Shinsou Hitoshi's dangerously inquisitive eyes, does a little helpless shrug.

“Um,” says Akatani Mikumo. “I didn't, though. I… got nervous! A-And slipped up. It just – it really just happened so f-fast ,” he says, as Shinsou Hitoshi's glare very quickly increases in danger, “ah, you don't b-believe me at all, Shinsou-kun. Can I call you S-Shinsou-kun? Probably n-not, huh? Well, I actually have to go –”

“ Deeeee-kuuuu, ” the ominous droll of Bakugou Katsuki's voice fills the room beside them in a murderous, bloodthirsty echo, and Shinsou Hitoshi shoots the door a glare. Akatani Mikumo, who has priorities that include not getting the shit beaten out of him by Bakugou Katsuki (who takes everything Akatani Mikumo does personally, for some reason!), sort of ducks out of Shinsou Hitoshi's loosening grip. “ Deeeee-kuuuu, where are you… I’ll beat the tar out of you, Deku…”

“He sounds like a serial killer,” scoffs Shinsou Hitoshi, who stuffs his hands in his pockets because he has nothing else to do. Then he looks at Akatani Mikumo – who is trying to look at Shinsou Hitoshi, but his defensive brain is also trying to leave the interaction as quickly as possible because Bakugou Katsuki is hot on his tail – and he must see something a bit strange in it, unfortunately, because he does another little petty scoff. “I don't know what's wrong with him, and you owe me a fight, but, uh… I'll… get him out of your hair.”

“What,” Akatani Mikumo says, gripping the chest of his gym uniform. His armpits feel soaked with sweat. His muscles writhe painfully under his skin. “Why.”

“Because Bakugou is a dickhead and I would love to spend my days harassing him forever, really,” says Shinsou Hitoshi. He glares at him. “Nothing to do with you, so hurry up and leave. But you owe me.”

“Oh, g-god, thank you,” Akatani Mikumo replies, feeling his tongue weigh heavy in his mouth. His eye twitches uncontrollably, and he ducks down the hallway. “I owe you! I-I owe you,” he quietly shouts, and he slides to a corner as Bakugou Katsuki finally kicks down the door to the other hallway.

Everything is terrible and I want to die , Akatani Mikumo deliriously thinks, as he finally sits down next to Uraraka Ochako.

“What took you so long, flaker,” she says, as she watches Todoroki Shouto and Sero Hanta saunter up to the field. Todoroki Shouto's face is stone cold in contrast to Sero Hanta's cautiously serious one. “Jeez, Kensei-chan. I'm calling you Kensei-chan the rest of the day.”

“Why,” says Akatani Mikumo. His voice is shakier than it ought to be and it's probably because of the stress of being near Todoroki Shouto, Shinsou Hitoshi, and the terrible no good Bakugou Katsuki at roughly the same time period. Her teasing look becomes concerned very fast.

Why is she always so fucking worried about me, he thinks, bitterly. He gnaws on the skin along his thumbnail as she tries to give him an encouraging smile. It doesn't work, so she turns back to the battle. 

It's not like we're friends or anything. She's a way more important character than me. Actually, why am I even sitting right here with her? I should be near all of the mob characters. I should be sitting with Ojirou Mashirao, Hagakure Tooru – hell, even Mineta Minoru. Why am I right here, with Bakugou Katsuki's future spouse, acting like we're best friends forever?

He stares at her.

Why the fuck am I so close to her?

I should just die.

God, what is going on today? Everything is – fine. He's okay. 

He smiles to himself, something that's probably ugly and looks cruel and meanspirted and whatever. But everything is really okay. Nothing's been better, actually. Right now, Akatani Mikumo is the happiest he's ever been. Right now he's in a class with Bakugou Katsuki, and Uraraka Ochako, and Todoroki Shouto. He's cheering them on right now, in the stands where he should be. 

Everything. Has turned out. Perfectly.

Why the fuck am I so close to her…

Everything has turned out perfectly.

Right now, Todoroki Shouto will look at his father. An accidental glance. His father will catch his eye because his father has not stopped looking at him since the day his quirk blossomed, and he will frown very slightly, as if to say that he's disappointed.  

Todoroki Shouto's resolve to beat the Sports Festival without using his father's power will harden in that very moment, and his spite will boil over, causing him to send a large glacier of packed ice in a frozen tidal wave towards Hanta Sero as soon as the match starts.

He will apologize, but it will be such an egregious show of power that everyone will be shocked to silence. And then the round will end.

…

…

Todoroki Shouto does not do any of that.

“What is he doing,” says Akatani Mikumo, as the match starts. Todoroki Shouto makes a gauntlet of ice around his arm, sharp at the ends, and uses it to slice through Hanta Sero's quirk. Slowly, Hanta Sero loses the upper hand of being a predominantly long distance fighter as Todoroki Shouto deflects, blocks, or evades all of his attempts at capture.

“He's – who do you mean? Todoroki?” Uraraka Ochako says. She squints. “Um, well, I mean, he's not losing. He's actually getting pretty close, oh wow. Why doesn't he just… use his fire to burn the tapes away? Well, it's working anyway, so I guess it's fine…”

Uraraka Ochako's voice fades to a muffled noise in his head. Akatani Mikumo watches as Todoroki Shouto, without even glancing up at his father, cuts the distance between him and Hanta Sero. Hanta Sero, recognizing his position, switches to unarmed fistfighting. 

Todoroki Shouto, who is more talented than him, counters his blows and stays on the defensive for a minute before suddenly going hard on offense, which takes Hanta Sero so off guard that he's pushed back by a wide margin. 

Todoroki Shouto takes advantage of this by touching the ground and covering the sand beneath Hanta Sero's feet with a thick layer of ice; Hanta Sero loses his balance and falls on his ass.

…

What?

Akatani Mikumo thinks he might be having a panic attack. Or something adjacent. A small, controlled panic attack.

Todoroki Shouto freezes Hanta Sero's body while he's on the ground. In a controlled way, that only makes him unable to fight. He melts it as soon as the fight is called. 

Hanta Sero looks a bit disappointed, but he shakes an excited hand with Todoroki Shouto anyway. His mouth moves. Akatani Mikumo can't hear what any of them are saying – not like he could anyway, but he doesn't know what they're saying, either.

This…

“Wow! That was intense!” says Ashido Mina. “Like, I totally thought Todoroki was just gonna – wham! You know, all over that guy, like at the –...” she quiets, and then nods. “Yeah!”

“It was so cool, but I wish Hanta would have won,” says Kaminari Denki, disappointed. “It would have been a total underdog story… I was cheering for him…”

“Midoriya-kun, are you okay,” says Uraraka Ochako. “You look like – well, okay, you always vaguely look like you're going to throw up, but now you really look like you're going to throw up.”

“Urgk,” says Akatani Mikumo, who is trying very hard to not have that panic attack that his brain really wants him to have. 

He goes through his little breathing exercises that usually do nothing for him. He rocks back and forth, noticing that everyone around him is now looking at him. Their gazes only make his headache worse, his nausea more potent. He needs to – do something. 

None of this is right, but it's all okay. It has to be. It has to be okay, but none of it is right. Todoroki Shouto acted completely out of character. Completely! Like how – like how Aizawa-sensei was supposed to erase Shigaraki Tomura's quirk, but he didn't, and it was all fucking Toga Himiko's fault, but – but she's not here, so who could it be?

Who's fault could this be? It's yours!

Why? Why is this happening? Why can't everything just go as it's supposed to? Why couldn't he have lunged off of the roof of Aldera and wished for a quirk in his next life. 

Why does he have to be here, watching as his world ends in front of him with such mundanity that it's genuinely mind-boggling? Why? 

Does the universe hate him? Underneath his gym uniform, sweat pools at his armpits, his thighs, his elbows. 

Sweat pools on his chest and his stomach. He bends over, and someone taps his shoulder, and another person gently shakes him.

Midoriya? Midoriya! They all say, like he deserves to be here after rewriting an entire fucking story. The perfect mob character! The perfect mob character! Mob characters don't have breakdowns for seemingly no reason! Get!! The fuck!!! Up!!!!

“Ummm,” says Akatani Mikumo. Then he laughs very loudly, and he stands up. Uraraka Ochako's previous joyful yet tense expression is replaced by something so intimately worried about him that it kind of makes him sick and a little angry at her. “I need to talk! To… Todoroki Shouto!”

“No, Midoriya, you need – like, Recovery Girl,” says Kaminari Denki, also standing up. “You really freaked us out, dude, we thought you were gonna puke for like a whole minute. Are you having a psychotic break?!”

Uraraka Ochako jabs him in the stomach with her elbow, and he hisses and goes what? Am I fucking wrong? “Can I come with you?” Uraraka Ochako says, sweetly, and she kind of huffs when Akatani Mikumo very quickly shakes his head. “What's wrong with you, Midoriya?” then, softer, she adds, “you know, you can – talk to me. We're friends, aren't we?”

Akatani Mikumo laughs again. 

Friends! He thinks, incredulously, and he smiles so hard that his cheeks start to hurt. 

He thinks that he must be scaring everyone, because they look at him with apprehension. But that's okay. 

Because they're all friends, aren't they? All of them are friends with him! Isn't that nice, Mikumo!!! That means you're not just ruining the story for the characters – you're ruining everything for your friends, too! 

“It's fine ,” he insists. Joyfully, he spreads his arms out. “Everything is completely fine! I just n-need to talk to Todoroki Shouto. And t-then everything will be… just… fine. ”

“Midoriya, seriously, what's going on,” says Uraraka Ochako. “You're… haha, kind of freaking me out.”

It's okay. “Everything is fine,” says Akatani Mikumo. “B-But I really have to go. I really do. Todoroki Shouto is probably waiting for me. S-So, I have to go. I'm sorry!! Haha!! I'll – be back!! I'll definitely come back!!! So don't worry about m-me!” Everything is completely fine!!!!

“...you sound like you're going to go off and die, Midoriya-kun, no offense,” says Ashido Mina. “Are you s –”

“ I'm fine!!! ” Akatani Mikumo replies, and then he turns around and goes inside the waiting hallways.

The perfect mob character, he repeats to himself, as he pushes past a hulking Endeavor. 

Todoroki Enji attempts to stop him, but Akatani Mikumo isn't even facing off against Todoroki Shouto, so he doesn't see a reason to face the man. The perfect mob character, he repeats, as he narrowly avoids walking past Bakugou Katsuki. The perfect mob character, he thinks, as he opens the door to the locker room, where he knows Todoroki Shouto is. 

Like magnetic attraction, his feet just… lead him there. 

“Todoroki S-Shouto,” says Akatani Mikumo.

“Oh,” says Todoroki Shouto, softly. “Um, I didn't –”

Something is horribly wrong. You've fucked the continuation too much. Toga Himiko has ruined it all because she will never join the League. Todoroki Shouto is too interested in you, and Uraraka Ochako has called you her friend.

You should die. You should die.

You should just die.

…

“Hi, Todoroki-kun,” says Akatani Mikumo. “We can talk now.”

Toga Himiko

Where the heck are you. I saw your total fumble on the monitors…

You lost on purpose, but couldn't you have made it less obvious?!!

When I see you I'll throttle you!!!!

Midoriya Izuku

I know, right?

Totally embarrassing. Everything should just die.

Seriously, the entire world should blow up.

What's the point of this goddamn Sports Festival anyway?

So everyone can hear I'm quirkless on live television…

I totally messed up… now everyone's getting on my case about it…

Even Shinsou Hitoshi is upset at me…

LMAO everything should just die

seriously everything should jsut die literallylol

Toga Himiko

Hey are you okay???

Where are you I can get melon soda for you

Iida is about to eat dirt for 15 mins lol

Respond to my text asshole

Midoriyakuuuun

Kenseiiii

Midoriya Izuku

everything is completely fine :)

you dont have to do that haha

thank you anyway

ill definitely see you later

Toga Himiko

That's the type of thing someone types before they go and kill themselves!!!!!

Are you sure??? where tf are you???

Bitch. Go to the guest stands and I'll find you after

I bought melon soda

Answer me!!!!!

Midoriya Izuku

everything is completely fine.

“You… aren't actually quirkless,” says Todoroki Shouto, and it's so out of nowhere and delivered with such sincerity that Akatani Mikumo clutches his chest and laughs.

I’m not actually quirkless, he thinks, with surprised glee. That's what he brought me here to say?! Another accusation of me cheating my way through life?! 

It's not like it bothers me – if it bothered me, then I wouldn't be Akatani Mikumo, I'd be Midoriya Izuku – but, ahaha, seriously, what kind of stupid theory is that…!?

 If I wasn't quirkless, he thinks, while he wheezes so hard that tears spring from his eyes, wheezes so much that Todoroki Shouto's look of absolute shock only makes him laugh harder, then why the fuck does Bakugou Katsuki hate my guts?! Why the fuck did Midoriya Izuku jump off of the roof of his middle school?! 

Why the fuck do I need to do twice as much to stand a mile away from my classmates?!

Why the fuck do I want to die so badly, right now?! Why?! Why?!

“Is that,” says Akatani Mikumo, wiping his eyes with his knuckles, “a joke? I-Is it? It was f-funny. I didn't think –”

“No, that was…” Todoroki Shouto furrows his eyebrows, and then he leans against the wall of the secluded tunnel he brought them to. “I was… I thought… no, but clearly I thought wrong. I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry ,” says Akatani Mikumo, and then he laughs again. Todoroki Shouto would never apologize to anyone about trivial matters like this before the Final Exams. “Ahaha… seriously, don't worry a-about it… it caught m-me off guard, but I'm not upset…”

Am I? Am I upset? Is it such a big deal for a quirkless person to make it into heroics? Of course it's a big deal, of course everyone is doubting me – give up on the idea of being a mob character, because everyone probably thinks I'm the traitor or something because how else could a quirkless freak get into the best hero program in the nation, right?! 

That's what everyone is thinking, right?! That's why Uraraka Ochako and Asui Tsuyu talk to me, right?! Because I'm weaker than them, so they feel better about themselves? 

Haha, friends, sure!! We can be friends!!! Everyone cares about me because I'm a fragile piece of shit!!!!

Akatani Mikumo carefully turns off his thoughts. He chokes out his last frantic little giggles, and then he tries to smile at Todoroki Shouto. 

It must not land. “I…” Todoroki Shouto says, with a conflicted expression, arms crossed and mouth downturned, “I wanted to fight you. To… to see what you were capable of. No one's really fought you, and the most we've seen of your abilities was during the U.S.J., and even then you only…” His eyes gaze at the grass beside them. “I thought that you must have been hiding something. You've been hiding something from all of us. It’s like you lie more than you tell the truth, so whenever you say the truth, it sounds like a lie…”

Do I do that? Akatani Mikumo shrugs. “I don't lie that much,” he says, like a liar. “I m-mean, sometimes I'll say I-I can keep going in practice even though I-I know I can't, but… but everyone d-does that. We're all s-stubborn!”

“No, not like that,” Todoroki Shouto says. His gaze is hard, even though he's not even looking at Akatani Mikumo. “What you told me about All Might… I asked him, and he said it was true, so I knew your expression then was genuine. But after, when you told me why you smiled…” he raises his head as if he himself doesn't know the answer, and says, “you immediately acted just a bit differently, like you were lying to me…”

“I wasn't,” says Akatani Mikumo. He grins. “I r-really was happy. I knew Aizawa-sensei would protect all of us, so I – there wasn't – I had nothing to worry about. Everything was fine. Everything was fine, so –”

“So,” Todoroki Shouto says, “I wanted to fight you. Really push you. I know I can beat you easily, but I wanted to… reveal something. Whatever secret you're hiding, I wanted to show it during the Sports Festival.”

“Um,” Akatani Mikumo says, and he tries not to laugh again. How on earth would Todoroki Shouto have exposed the fact that he knows all of them already during a battle? 

No, wait – he had said that Akatani Mikumo wasn't actually quirkless, right? He probably wanted to push the odds. Make Akatani Mikumo reveal his quirk or something, somehow. Ahaha! “I'm s-sorry that I lost…?”

“You lost on purpose ,” Todoroki Shouto says. “ Why? If you act like that, then my plan wouldn't have worked anyway. You're not taking this as seriously as anyone else is.”

“I'm t-taking it seriously,” retorts Akatani Mikumo, because he has nothing else to say.

“You're taking it as seriously as a general education kid,” says Todoroki Shouto. Then he probably remembers Shinsou Hitoshi, and he adds, “who doesn't want to be in heroics.”

“Ahahaha, well, I – I don't know what you want m-me to say ,” replies Akatani Mikumo. Sweat builds in his armpits. He can feel the sun beaming down on him even under the cool shadow of the tunnel, where Todoroki Shouto's blue eye stabs the ground with intensity. “What – it's not like you're t-trying, either. A-Aren’t we in the same boat?”

Todoroki Shouto stares at him, finally. It doesn't feel good at all. His eyes are wide, and he clenches his fists. “What?”

“I – I mean,” because Akatani Mikumo is nervous, and he's only trembling a little bit because Todoroki Shouto is so close, and talking to him. 

They're having some secluded conversation like Akatani Mikumo is anything less than a side character who Todoroki Shouto should have brief interactions with and nothing more, and it just – he just… 

“haha, come on, you – you have two fucking elements, right? Hahaha. I don't – I don't even have a quirk, it would be so fucking embarrassing t-to get fucking one shot by you with a single fucking – fucking sweep of your hand, the round would be over and you'd just need one hand to do it, and wouldn't that be a fucking – wouldn't that be embarrassing ? I'd rather lose h-here!”

Todoroki Shouto glares at him. He stands straight up, and his hands go to his sides in fists so tight that they're trembling. He bites his lip, once, like he doesn't want to say what he wants to say, and then he looks to the ground with his hair covering his eyes.

Oh, Akatani Mikumo thinks. No. No, no, no, no, no…

“Midoriya,” says Todoroki Shouto. “Have you… ever heard of quirk marriages…?”

“ What, ” says Akatani Mikumo, as Todoroki Shouto picks up a knife and spears his stomach and cuts it in a neat little line to show his innards to Akatani Mikumo willingly.

Akatani Mikumo, who already knows the shape of his organs, intestines, and bones, can feel himself slowly go insane. Like drowning. He feels like he doesn't really listen to what Todoroki Shouto says.

Why does the universe hate me, thinks Akatani Mikumo. Todoroki Shouto grits out the story of his mother burning him, and curses himself for his ugliness. Why does it? I don't deserve to be here, listening to this. He doesn't fucking tell anyone this until later. The only person who knows this right now is All Might. Why am I hearing this?

He wants to throw up. For a brief, fleeting second, he thinks he will throw up.

This story is a matter of trust. Todoroki Shouto is not one to spill his secrets to anyone. Right now, he's not a particularly friendly person, and he only tells the story to All Might to get it off of his chest. All Might accepts it with solemnity. He promises Todoroki Shouto that he will never do anything against his wishes, as long as he asks for it.

Why, why, why…

“I won't use that bastard's quirk for this competition,” Todoroki Shouto hisses, thumbing the palm of his left hand. “If I had it my way, I wouldn't use it at all. I'll prove to that asshole that I don't need his quirk to become a hero…”

What does he say? He runs through options in his head. Reaffirm his mob status by expressing sympathy? I don't want to do that, though. What do I want to do, here? Right now, I'm being handed the opportunity to become one of Todoroki Shouto's trusted friends. Am I just going to give it up? Of course I am, what the hell? I'm supposed to be…

Akatani Mikumo is a coward who runs from his problems, and a liar who can't even trust his own thoughts. His mind, the antagonist of his story, says: but deep down, you want to be Todoroki Shouto's friend, don't you?

“You…” Akatani Mikumo says. He smiles and takes a step forward.

If I just act like I pity him, I'll remain a comfortable side character forever. I won't be caught up in all of his interpersonal drama. 

Really, this decision is a crucial one. I'll make the right choice. 

I'll say this, with a wobbling voice: I'm sorry that happened to you. And then Todoroki Shouto will become angry and say he doesn't need my pity. 

Of course, he's misjudged me the entire time. I am a liar who weaves a web of lies for everyone, including myself. 

I don't know what I want to do or who I want to be. 

So, with this, I'll stay on the sidelines, and I won't be involved in anything.

And everything will be completely fine.

“You shouldn't…” Akatani Mikumo chokes, and his heart beats drums in his chest. 

The sun is beaming down on him. If he looks directly at the sun, he'll go blind. He can't bring himself to even glance once at the side, or he’ll lose his direction. 

He can only glance at the bright light the side emits. Under the cool shadow of the tunnel, Akatani Mikumo says to Todoroki Shouto:

“Why do you still… call it his power, then?”

Akatani Mikumo does not sit with his friends. 

By the time he returns to the stands, the fight is between Ashido Mina and Aoyama Yuga. (He doesn't know what to do about Aoyama Yuga yet).He slides to a mostly empty section near the top where his class isn't even supposed to be because they have seats literally reserved for them and he's in the guest area. It's fine. 

Toga Himiko, as promised, finds him before the match ends and taps a cold can of melon soda against his head.

“My savior,” Akatani Mikumo says, voice hoarse.

“Are you fucking okay,” replies Toga Himiko, sitting down beside him. 

There's a family of four to their right, and the youngest child – who can't be more than five years old – throws his arms in the air while clutching an All Might figurine, cheering for the pink acid lady! His mother shoots both of them a dirty look for Toga Himiko's potty mouth, and Toga Himiko (because she is polite) does a small bow of apology. She lowers her volume and leans closer to Akatani Mikumo. “Are you okay?”

Akatani Mikumo laughs.

Yes. No. Everything is going to shit. Everything is perfectly fine. I don't know why I'm so worked up about this when it's not even a villain attack. My perfect fanfiction where I coast as a side character and watch from the spectator's seat is crumbling to dust in front of me, and I'm the reason why. You're the reason why. I don't know the reason why. Why is this happening to me?

“Yeah,” he says. He smiles, and Toga Himiko doesn't look like she believes him. “I'm fine.”

He doesn't sit next to any of them for the rest of the game. When Uraraka Ochako texts him to ask where he is and if he's okay, he texts back that everything is fine and he's just hanging out with Toga Himiko. Then, when she sends an angry kaomoji, he smiles and mutes his notifications.

Yaoyorozu Momo looks for him in the 1-A seats and doesn't find him, so he waves very, very hard until he catches her eye. She looks thoroughly disappointed at her own performance, but Akatani Mikumo (who has seen just how capable she is) gives her a thumbs up and a smile. “You did your best! Just get him next time!!”

She definitely can't hear him, but her shoulders raise anyway with newfound confidence. 

It makes him sick .

Kirishima Eijirou and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu (that name is so dumb) are so similar that they knock each other out at the same time. During the match, Toga Himiko and Akatani Mikumo get so bored that they start to arm wrestle. Thankfully, it isn't a complete sweep, and Akatani Mikumo actually wins about 60% of the time. When they call the draw, they both sigh in relief.

“Ahh, this is probably my favorite fight,” Toga Himiko says, when Uraraka Ochako walks out into the field. Both of them jump up and wave to her with both of their arms, and when she finally checks the guest stands for them, she brightens and places her hands on her hips confidently. 

Then, when Bakugou Katsuki appears, Akatani Mikumo carefully sits down while Toga Himiko flips him off and heckles him like most of the crowd does.

It is a good fight. Aizawa-sensei sings Bakugou Katsuki's praises, like he should. Akatani Mikumo secretly hopes for him to win, even though it feels wrong to support him when he was hunting him in the halls earlier. 

Oh, god, how is Shinsou Hitoshi doing? He allows his mind to drift to peaceful, fluffy thoughts, instead of the ever turbulent rainstorm – sunstorm? The sun is beating down on him so, so hard… everything's fine. Like normal, Uraraka Ochako loses desperately, with sharp and animalistic determination on her face until the moment she loses consciousness.

“Are you going to talk to her?” says Toga Himiko.

Akatani Mikumo, who is a terrible friend, smiles and says, “Nope!”

Ahh, he feels awful about it, a wriggling feeling of guilt in his gut… but he thinks if he talks to anyone who's real, right now, he might throw up everywhere. He especially doesn't want to accidentally stumble into Bakugou Katsuki (who might shout at him) or Todoroki Shouto (who might silently ignore him, oh god ) or even Shinsou Hitoshi (he doesn't even know what he'd do!). So he stays in his seat as Toga Himiko passes him a chocolate bar from her bag with her legs crossed on the ankle.

“You're the best, Himichan,” says Akatani Mikumo, watching Kirishima Eijirou and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu arm wrestle. “Seriously. I'm sorry about –... sorry. I just… ahaha, I'm really stressed out right now.”

“Yeah, clearly,” says Toga Himiko. “You've probably got your class worried that you've gone off to kill yourself in the bathroom.” She turns to him with hard candy stuffed in her cheeks. “I won't have any advice or anything, but, uhhh… you can talk to me about it, I guess.”

He smiles at her. His teeth are probably covered with chocolate. “Um,” he says. “No.”

“You're such a psycho,” says Toga Himiko, face curled in slight disgust. “Why are you such a psycho?”

“I was born like that, I guess,” Akatani Mikumo replies. “After the intermission, it’s the Quarter-Finals…”

“...yeah. Jeez,” Toga Himiko says. “It sucks to be sitting here while the Hero Killer is, like, fucking up Iida's brother.” The reminder that the Sports Festival won't even be the worst event in his life probably makes him sick with worry, and he swallows that worry with a gulp of melon soda. He makes an exaggerated sigh of refreshment and slaps his knee.

“Don't worry about it, Himichan! Seriously, we shouldn't worry about anything!! The world is already ruined, so we should do the equivalent of, like, drinking liquor and stuff while everyone dies around us!!! Let's just have fun, okay?!” He laughs. “Let's totally have fun and relax! Totally! Totally!!!”

“Psycho,” Toga Himiko replies. “Let's vape in the bathroom, if we're being so carefree!!”

“No!!!!”

The universe rights itself for a single moment as Shinsou Hitoshi and Todoroki Shouto come out. Akatani Mikumo knows this match, because it happens in the original novel, too. 

He knows that Shinsou Hitoshi will successfully bother Todoroki Shouto about his father to the point of Todoroki Shouto shouting at him, and then Todoroki Shouto will be brainwashed. As he succumbs to the order to walk off of the stage – the audience will all jeer at Shinsou Hitoshi for this – he will have his first vision of the past holders of One For All. Then he'll break his own finger just to snap out of the hypnosis.

…urgk.

Akatani Mikumo honestly isn't even that surprised when Todoroki Shouto doesn't respond to Shinsou Hitoshi's jabs at all. 

Shinsou Hitoshi says something about Endeavor and Todoroki Shouto's face twitches, and then his eyes turn to the stand and they glare at Akatani Mikumo with such intensity that Mikumo shudders a bit and goes, “eek!”, and then Todoroki Shouto is going overkill with his ice glaciers like he was supposed to do to Hanta Sero. Why the fuck is everything so out of order?

I hate the universe , he thinks, as the match is called as quickly as it started. Shinsou Hitoshi's face, full of barely contained anger, just drops into a hopeless expression as Todoroki Shouto melts the ice away. They both trudge to the waiting rooms with desolate, frozen faces. “I don't understand what just happened,” says Toga Himiko, looking genuinely confused about the turn of events. She turns to Mikumo. “Is that what you're crashing out about? You did something to them?”

“I don't –” Mikumo replies, shakily “ – I don't know. I don't even want to talk about it, actually. Everything's fine.”

“You're so fucked,” Toga Himiko says. “Being friends with you is like watching a car crash.”

“You're the worst and we aren't friends,” Akatani Mikumo replies. “Actually, the new plan is that you die to Stain as bait, so get fucked.”

“Remind me who cut off Shigaraki Tomura's hand again? Because that felt pretty significant and also a one way ticket to Hell,” says Toga Himiko, smugly popping a peppermint in her mouth, and she shrieks in laughter when Akatani Mikumo lunges at her.

They play rock-paper-scissors during Iida Tenya and Shiozaki Ibara’s fight. They play I spy with my little eye during Tokoyami Fumikage and Ashido Mina's fight (made harder by the five year old next to them, screeching with delight and/or horror at Ashido Mina's performance). Akatani Mikumo insists on actually watching Bakugou Katsuki and Kirishima Eijirou's fight, even though Toga Himiko says it's boring.  

Toga Himiko didn't even read the whole novel, so she knows nothing about anything.

“This is way better than being in Class 1-A,” says Akatani Mikumo. “Just goofing off in the stands. Maybe my side character journey was destined to be a real background character, you know?”

“You would have, like, died in some stupid villain attack and it would've been stupid and you would've gone ‘everything is okay!’ while bleeding out,” says Toga Himiko, throwing candy wrappers at him. Akatani Mikumo punches her arm harder than what constitutes friendly .

“Do you wanna go bum around in the concessions even though you're a super talented hero student?” Toga Himito asks, bored out of her mind.

Akatani Mikumo thinks about disciplinary action from Aizawa-sensei. Then he realizes that Aizawa-sensei probably doesn't give a shit about him right now because he's eliminated and quirkless and not even sitting with his classmates anyway, so he stands up and stretches. “If we miss the semi-finals, you owe me money.”

“Deal, dickhead,” says Toga Himiko, and they both ignore the spectating mother's dirty look as they squeeze through the stands.

Uraraka Ochako

Hey I chased away Bakugou for you (ToT) he's such an asshole!! But our fight was kind of fun… does that make me a cheater?! (;O;)

Anyway I saw you guys cheering for me ( =＾ω＾) tell Toga I said hi!!!! Idk what happened but if you don't tell me then I'll seriously be like wtf ok?? (　・`ω・´) don't be a stranger kensei-chan

Midoriya Izuku

You're an angel, Ochachan~

I was really sad you lost, but it's okay!!! You'll get a lot of internship sponsors now!!! >:D because you were so totally cool and awesome!!!!

Uraraka Ochako

You bet I am ( ｀Д´)/

But seriously, I hope that guy loses -_-...

I'll be cheering for Todoroki-kun the whole time, okay?!

Midoriya Izuku

Yeah!!!! Yeah!!!!!!

Todoroki-kun for the win!!!!

Do you think he'd let me call him Rokichan?

Uraraka Ochako

！Σ(×_×;)

Toga Himiko smiles at her phone while Akatani Mikumo carries six skewers of meat between his knuckles. 

Her face falls abruptly, and she turns to look at Akatani Mikumo. A dollop of cream from a crepe she devoured sticks to the corner of her mouth. “Hey, Kensei. ”

Dread trickles down his back. Urgk.

“That's me,” Akatani Mikumo says, voice muffled because he's trying to stuff an entire meat skewer in his mouth at once. 

She looks briefly entranced by his embarrassing act of swallowing without chewing, and then she shakes her head and looks at the sky. The sun. The sun is beating down on both of them. It's always so hot, everywhere he fucking goes.

“Do you ever, like…” she says, and she runs her tongue over her teeth. Even though she's not Toga Himiko, not really, the act is still a little intimidating. “Do you feel like… the character you're supposed to be… doesn't like you?”

Ah. His heart rattles in his chest, and sweat blooms on the back of his neck. He tilts his head. “Why?” he asks, because saying yes is a lie and saying no is a lie. Not like he's opposed to lying, but – to get the full story!!

Toga Himiko glances at her phone again. “Sometimes, I get this weird feeling… it's, like… like my body wants to move on its own and do fucked up things to people. To you, to Uraraka Ochako…” she purses her lips. “I don't know what to do about it. Does that ever happen to you?”

Yes, Akatani Mikumo thinks. 

He remembers the ghost of a boy moving his mouth to tell him that he can be a hero. 

He remembers a birthday. 

He remembers when his legs wanted to drag their way to the top of the roof and plummet down just so that his death could lift Bakugou Katsuki up. 

Yes, yes, yes. I do. There is a dead 13-year-old boy and his name is Midoriya Izuku and I stole the life that he wouldn't have fully lived from him. I stole everything from him, from the moment I died. But with it, I became a hero, completely quirkless.

With it, I saved Izuku's dream. Even if… Even if he doesn't think it counts if I'm being selfish, I'm still doing it for him.

…He remembers that the girl trapped in Toga Himiko's body already calls him a psycho and a maniac and she doesn't even like him that much.

Akatani Mikumo snorts. “No, I've never had anything like that,” he says. “Himichan, maybe you're just a hidden psycho~? Your latent psycho-charm can only appear in a freak yandere body…?”

“Oh, shut up,” says Toga Himiko, smiling back. “You're such a dick.”

They nearly miss the semi-finals, a fact that Akatani Mikumo might very well have killed Toga Himiko over if he was not also partially responsible for the time lapse. 

Toga Himiko entertains herself with throwing balled up trash at Akatani Mikumo's face as he very intensely watches Todoroki Shouto and Iida Tenya throw down. It's really awful, waiting for the moment where Todoroki Shouto's flames will emerge. Bakugou Katsuki's explosions rival Tokoyami Fumikage's Dark Shadow, leading to Bakugou Katsuki's inevitable victory.

“Pah. Pah. Pah. Pah. This is so boring. It's just a bunch of boooooys ,” Toga Himiko groans. “One gripe I have is that there's too many booooys. Hey, Kensei, are you the type of guy to be friends with all of the girls in your class? You're really thin and you stutter a lot so you probably are, right?”

“Fuck you,” replies Akatani Mikumo, trying to ignore her very true statements. “You're gay.”

“ You're gay,” replies Toga Himiko. Then, with a mocking impression of him, she leans closer and flutters her eyelashes. “My name is Midoriya Izuku and I loooooove Bakugou Katsuki soooooo much. He's my favorite ! He's way better than Toga Himiko –”

“Because he is ,” the unfortunate fanboy named Akatani Mikumo replies, jabbing his index finger into the soft underside of her chin. She makes a choked noise of laughter. “You are the worst. I'm going to abandon you for, like, Dabi. Why couldn't someone cool have transmigrated into, like, Dabi's body? Huh?”

“Ewwwww,” Toga Himiko says.

One of Akatani Mikumo's favorite scenes in the original novel, the Sports Festical battle, is the moment where he began to like Bakugou Katsuki.

The first iteration of it – because it had gone through several iterations, over the course of several years – was blocky, choppy, and generally not well written. The dialogue felt clunky and out of place. Descriptions were weird, and the fight scene was pretty terrible. 

Small Akatani Mikumo loved it; admired it so much that he wanted to become the type of person Bakugou Katsuki was.

He loved it. He loved it, loved it, loved it…

And experiencing it first-hand is just as good.

He can't hear what they're saying from the stands, but he can hear Bakugou Katsuki's shouting. A clash of willpower. Bakugou Katsuki's intense flames against Todoroki Shouto's unwavering stoicism. 

Akatani Mikumo leans forwards as, for a brief moment, Bakugou Katsuki's will to cement himself as the best wins over Todoroki Shouto's half-baked petty vengeance plan. Then Todoroki Shouto freezes him over, but Bakugou Katsuki breaks out quick enough to where the match isn't called.

The stadium erupts with outrageous cheering. It's a heated battle, of course. Each side either overtakes the other or resists being overtaken. Todoroki Shouto shoots glaciers out of his foot, and Bakugou Katsuki blasts himself out of the radius and towards Todoroki Shouto. 

Bakugou Katsuki screams something fierce so hard that the stands can hear the rough, violent edge of his voice, crackling like the explosions in his palms. Tension is thick in the air. Anticipation, too.

Akatani Mikumo wishes he could lean closer and hear what he knows Bakugou Katsuki is saying. Why the fuck, he asks, are you looking at Endeavor? It's just a good ass moment. 

Bakugou Katsuki unintentionally uplifting others because of his single desire to be the best, unconditionally. A total crushing victory means nothing if the opponent didn't try their hardest. Todoroki Shouto, in this moment, realizes he can't win. Akatani Mikumo squints, and he thinks he can see the wide eyed shock on Todoroki Shouto's face.

…

And then Todoroki Shouto looks at him again. Not Endeavor – not the man he's supposed to be glaring at. Instead, he levels the full force of his turbulent anxiety to Akatani Mikumo in a chilling stare, with explosions popping in the air as Bakugou Katsuki closes the distance, and – and because Akatani Mikumo doesn't know what to do with that, he just…

Smiles. Gives a stupid fucking two-fingered salute.

Then he watches Todoroki Shouto's arm burst into flames.

Akatani Mikumo's stomach rolls in his body, like a tidal wave of churning nausea. Toga Himiko places a hand on his shoulder and leans in to whisper what was that, what did you do? But Akatani Mikumo cannot answer, because he – he wants to say he doesn't know what he did, but that's a lie. 

What he's done is ruined everything. His perfect mob status is ruined. Not to mention that he knows about One For All, and All Might's stupid time limit, and so Todoroki Shouto might be even more inclined to talk to him now, and – and…

“I wanted to become Bakugou Katsuki,” Akatani Mikumo sniffles. Toga Himiko looks confused and a little bit judgemental as he curls in his seat, still smiling, and his cheeks flush red. Not because of embarrassment, though. He rubs a fist against his face even though he isn't crying yet. “I wanted to become him, but I – I didn't… want to take his place…”

“Is that what's going on?” Toga Himiko asks. “You fucked it?”

Akatani Mikumo laughs, shrugs, and ignores all of her questions as he watches Todoroki Shouto snag the easiest win of his life.

The Awards Ceremony is done by All Might. Akatani Mikumo refuses to go down to the Class 1-A waiting rooms, even though he's probably supposed to do that, because it's not like he won anything anyway. 

Instead, he entertains himself by scrolling through his phone, ignoring Toga Himiko's jabs at his stomach, waiting for the news about the Hero Killer to pop up. Sure enough, it does – Iida Tenya's brother, right on time, has been disabled by the Hero Killer.

At least that part didn't change. Akatani Mikumo breathes a small sigh of relief and closes his eyes. 

It feels a bit wrong, to wish for the downfall of people like this just to further the narrative, but breaking it past the point of major events like that not occurring would be worse than the situation he's already in. 

Bakugou Katsuki looks unhappy about his 2nd place position, but he looks secretly pleased that Todoroki Shouto at least went all out. There will probably be secret declarations about how next time, Bakugou Katsuki will kick his ass.

Ah… at least it's not completely ruined…! At least – at least it's salvageable? Even though he's made a mess of things, like how all of the relationships in this series should go, it isn't all too bad!! In fact, he can work with this. 

As long as he's careful not to get too close, he can work with this. It's not… it's not the worst!!! He sharply laughs, and then he coughs when Toga Himiko jabs him in the stomach again because of it.

On the count of three, everyone! One, two…

“Plus Ultra,” Akatani Mikumo says, quietly, with the overwhelming crowd. All Might says, “great work!”, and everyone begins to heckle him. He smiles a bit. It's not completely over…

Yeah. Why is he being so pessimistic all the time?! He’s got this!!! Plus ultra!!!!

Toga Himiko waits for him, because – well, of course she does. Akatani Mikumo attempts to sneak into the waiting rooms and grab his uniform and other things before he can sneak out again, but Todoroki Shouto is also sneaking around in the waiting room, which isn't good at all. 

Akatani Mikumo specifically waited, like, twenty minutes after the Sports Festival officially concluded to start packing with the assumption that no one else would be here, but he really should have known.

If he could have, like, a stable copy of My Hero Academi a for information like this, that would be great!! He freezes when he sees Todoroki Shouto, and Todoroki Shouto freezes when he sees him.

“Ummm,” Akatani Mikumo says. Then he regrets having said anything, because that initiates conversation. As much of a socially inept rich kid Todoroki Shouto is, he knows that as a social cue, at least.

“Midoriya-kun,” Todoroki Shouto says. “I… I think I owe you an apology.”

“You don't,” says Akatani Mikumo, shaking. “You really d-don't! Actually, I – I'm sorry, it was super o-out of line what I said and I didn't mean to – to force you to do anything or something, um, haha, so – so sorry, but I – I'll leave now, okay?”

“Wait, that's not –” Todoroki Shouto helplessly watches as Akatani Mikumo picks up his bag and checks it for his essentials. “Midoriya,” he begs, as Akatani Mikumo slings the bookbag over his shoulders. “Wait!” he shouts, as Akatani Mikumo opens the door to the hallway with the beautiful, beautiful exit. Akatani Mikumo honestly wouldn't have waited, but Todoroki Shouto clamps a cold hand against his wrist, so, well, okay, fine.

“Midoriya,” Todoroki Shouto says, breathing a bit shallowly. Akatani Mikumo doesn't turn to look at him, but he thinks flailing in Todoroki Shouto's grip would be the most useless thing ever, so he doesn't. “I… I'm sorry. And thank you. I realized… a lot of things about myself, during me and Bakugou's battle. It was thanks to you.”

Terribly, Todoroki Shouto continues with a calmer voice. “I want to be a hero,” he says, with conviction. It means so much more than Akatani Mikumo would think, if he hadn't read exactly why it means so much more. “I want to be a hero. I… I'm not just doing it to spite my old man.” he breathes, like he's just coming to this conclusion.

Akatani Mikumo's nose scrunches a little bit. It's funny how Todoroki Shouto assumes the good will of Bakugou Katsuki, but that's just how it's always been with that guy. 

“Um,” he squeaks, when Todoroki Shouto goes quiet. “I… I guess, yeah. I didn't, um…” oh, god, what does he even fucking say? “I – I’m glad you won, Todoroki-kun. R-Really. I am.”

“But then why –” Todoroki Shouto hesitates. “Why did you not…”

“Um,” Akatani Mikumo replies, scratching his neck. “Todoroki-kun, it wasn't that I – I didn't want… the world to find out what I can d-do.”

He's had time to think of an excuse for his shitty performance in Shinsou Hitoshi's fight. If only he hadn't completely fucked it up – he wouldn't have even have to excuse himself. But it makes sense , doesn't it? If everyone knows what his abilities are, it limits his utility as a hero, right?! I mean, it's easy to glean he's quirkless (maybe?) but his sword skills are left generally unknown, right?!? It makes sense! He doesn't have the security in his own powers like Todoroki Shouto does!!!

“I – I don't have… the same advantage as you,” Akatani Mikumo says. It's so much easier to lie when he's not looking at Todoroki Shouto directly. In fact, it's gotten easier to lie to everyone, the more he does it. “So I… can't… put all my eggs i-in one basket, as they say…”

“Oh,” Todoroki Shouto says. “Oh, that makes sense. I hadn't even considered…”

“It's fine!! It's totally fine!!” Effortless! Effortless!!! A complete bang-up job of a lie!!

Todoroki Shouto is probably smiling. Akatani Mikumo certainly can't see it, so he turns around, wrenches his arm out of Todoroki Shouto's loose grip, and gives a two-fingered salute. “H-Hey, can I call you Rokichan, then?”

“Absolutely not.” Todoroki Shouto's face falls.

“What about Todochan? Todocchi?”

Todoroki Shouto's expression actually transforms into a disgusted one. “No.”

“Shoucchi!”

“No.”

“Awwww,” Akatani Mikumo sighs. “Well, I have to go.” And then he uses his brief distraction to book it down the hallways and to the exit. 

His hands are sweating. He slaps them against his face. Everything is okay! Everything is okay! Everything! Is! Okay!!! If you repeat something for long enough, doesn't it become true?!?

Outside, Toga Himiko scratches her phone against her head and stares at him judgmentally. “Hey, what took you so long? I thought you said everyone would have left by now.”

Akatani Mikumo, with his hands on his knees, says, “got held up by pretty boy.”

“Oh my god,” Toga Himiko replies, mortified. “I'm not calling him that. Can we come up with another nickname? How about IcyHot? Peppermint? Something more discreet, like Number One???”

“He rejected all of my nicknames, so I'm sure he hates me,” Akatani Mikumo heaves, laughing a bit. The sickening, curdling sensation in his heart slowly ebbs away. Thank you for being a beacon of something, Toga Himiko. “Not – this isn't important.”

Toga Himiko blows a steady stream of air out of her mouth. “Yeah. It's not,” she replies, with a new tension to her shoulders. Akatani Mikumo stretches and hurries to follow her when she stuffs her hands into her pockets, walking away.

…

“Ughhhh,” Akatani Mikumo groans. “Ugghgguhhhhh. This is gonna fucking suuuuck.”

“You're telling me ,” Toga Himiko shoots back. “What the fuck are we even doing, headhunting the goddamn Hero Killer?”

“We're not headhunting the Hero Killer ,” Akatani Mikumo argues. “We're just making sure the narrative goes like it's supposed to.”

“...The narrative, huh,” says Toga Himiko, and she stares at the sky. Akatani Mikumo does, too. The sun is always beating down on him. “Haha, jeez… can I tell you a secret?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Akatani Mikumo replies. “Fuck am I gonna do, tell Todoroki Shouto ?”

Toga Himiko doesn't laugh. “I think I just wanna headhunt the Hero Killer because I don't have anything else to do,” she says. “Living a normal life seems counterproductive. I'm in a goddamn fictional world, after all. So it's like… haha, what else is there to do but to meddle with shit like the Hero Killer? Fuck, man. All of this is totally fucked up.”

She sucks in a breath, and then she starts to laugh. “I died, and now I'm friends with some psychopath, and we're gonna fucking hunt down the Hero Killer… for what? To make sure the goddamn narrative has its way? If it did, wouldn't you be dead? ”

Akatani Mikumo doesn't know what to say, so he very confidently says nothing. His hands are shaking harder, and he stuffs them in his pockets as he looks away. The sun heats up his face even when he's not looking at it.

“Shouldn't I be in the League of Villains? Shouldn't I be Toga Himiko? Haha… man,” she breathes. “Man, my life is super fucked, Kensei !!! Let's just do something crazy!! Let's just go completely crazy!!”

“What the hell are you talking about,” says Akatani Mikumo.

“Let's – I don't know. You seem like a nerd. Have you ever gotten drunk before?” Akatani Mikumo shakes his head. “Let's just sneak some booze and get wasted before we start our Hero Killer hunt. Don't you get some days off of school? Yeah, let's just do something wild. Let's buy vapes. Let's buy cigarettes . Let's –”

“I think I would rather die than have my first experience with drugs be with you, Toga Himiko,” replies Akatani Mikumo. Thankfully, she drops the topic when she starts laughing so hard that she snorts.

Ah, the day is gone. The Sports Festival is over. His shameful decree is over. Soon, he'll go home, and his mother will lie and say that she's proud of him, and everyone at the dojo will lie and say that they're proud of him, and U.A. will… still be there. After everything, U.A. will still be here. Even if he dies or goes crazy by being near Toga Himiko or makes friends with Todoroki Shouto or punches Bakugou Katsuki, he’ll… still be at U.A., huh?

…

The Sports Festival is over. He didn't do the best he could have, and it's shameful how much he wishes he could have done better. But if he didn't, the narrative would have changed too much for him to be comfortable with. So he has to settle for mediocrity. For the sake of the narrative that he's already ruined.

…

Why do you want to be a hero?

That's an easy question.

It's because he…

…

He wants… to –...

“Toga Himiko,” says Akatani Mikumo. “I think I'm going crazy!”

“Welcome to the club,” she replies, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Let's get wasted tonight!!”

Toga Himiko

Kennnnseiiiiii-kuuuuun.

Heyyyy.

This is really important, so you'd better answer me.

I know you're awake.

Midoriya Izuku

Lady you're insane. It's 3 in the damn morning you freak

Don't text me at THREE IN THE MORNING

Toga Himiko

Ok well what are you doing awake at 3 in the morning you bum

Midoriya Izuku

Wahahahaha.

What's up?

Toga Himiko

Ok listen I know youre like gonna freak out about this rlly hard so after I send this to you I'll wait like 5 minutes and then im calling you to preemptively listen to you lie and go “everything is fine!!!” ok

I honestly hate you man

Midoriya Izuku

:(

Ur scaring me…

Toga Himiko

Yeah, intentionally

theheroone.com/recent/hero-killer-eyewitness-reports-new-injury-on-famous-serial-slasher

Akatani Mikumo reads the article. Then he rereads it. Then his third reread is interrupted by Toga Himiko calling him.

“Hey, sword boy,” she says, her voice cracking in the receiver. “Are you having a mental break yet?”

“Um,” Akatani Mikumo says. His head feels blissfully blank. That can't be good, but right now, it's all he has to protect him against the dread rising up his throat. Very calmly, he says, “I don't know. I think I am?”

“Oh boy,” Toga Himiko says. “I told you we should've got wasted.”

…

“You might've been right…” Akatani Mikumo says, airily. “Maybe we can sneak some of my mom's vodka…?”

“Isn't vodka really strong? Won't it be gross? I thought your mom would be more like a wine mom…”

“Aahaha,” Akatani Mikumo says. He squeezes his eyes shut and stops rereading the article, choosing to stuff the phone between his shoulder and his ear. “Okay. It's okay. Everything is fine. Everything's fine…”

“Told you.”

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Everything is fine! Okay? In the grand scheme of things, this means basically nothing.”

But does it? Does it mean nothing? Because if the article is true – if everything that fucking witness said is true – then doesn't that mean there's been another major deviation? Because – because – his thoughts leak out of his ears – because, because, because…!

“I just can't figure out why this would even… happen,” says Toga Himiko. 

“Who the fuck in the story would cut off one of Stain's arms?”