Chapter Text
Part of Toga Himiko fears that her time in bed rest dulled her skills, but it seems she doesn't actually have anything to worry about. Despite the fact that she hasn't actively practiced her little trick since she tracked down Guardian, it comes as naturally to her as breathing. And with no one around, she lets her Normal mask slip off her face just the littlest bit, her mouth pulling into a crescent grin, as she slips out from the infirmary to the hallway.
That grin vanishes a moment later as a crowd of students turn the corner, but none of them pay her any mind. She's not a person, not a threat, just a part of the scenery. They walk past her, chattering about exams and stress and celebration and summer break without any of them so much a shooting her a glance. Even so, she stays even more on guard for that next minute or so after she ghosts past them.
Summer break, huh? That means she's been here for around two months or so, she thinks. Much longer than she wanted to be here, but that's what she gets for blacking out after drinking. Really, what had she been thinking? Terrible manners.
UA High School is easily one of the singular most dangerous places for a demon to be, and she doesn't want to be here any more than she has to be, but, well, she was hungry. (And thirsty. And sick. And having some kind of Quirk breakdown or something.) It's also massive. A towering twisted labyrinth of corridors so large they feel like the gaping maw of some great beast about to swallow her, but, like, not cute. The fluorescent light casts everything evenly, and after a year on the run, the unnatural lighting unsettles something in her stomach. This whole place makes her skin crawl, even without factoring in how the students here are learning specifically how to put down monster like her.
Which is the reason she has to do this. She needs to know how much they know, how much danger she's in. Getting out of here in the worst-case scenario should be easy; no one pays her any mind, she can strut out the gate and vanish into thin air given half a chance. But if they have an idea of what she is, then there's no way in hell they won't be watching for her to do exactly that, and she prefers her face bullet-free, thank you very much.
Finding her goal is the hardest part. She doesn't know the layout of this place at all, and wandering randomly won't get her anywhere. But, if she's lucky, there should be maps scattered around for safety reasons. She never noticed them before her first time, with Saito, but once she was on the run, she found them in several of the places she ended up hiding out in, and, well, turns out there's more than one reason to evacuate a building in a hurry.
The first map she finds doesn't tell her where the library is; it only points her to the exit. But, more usefully, it's right next to a directory. That at least puts her on the right track, but in a school this massive, it still takes her ages to get there, and she has to dodge another half-dozen groups of students on the way. Come on people! You're all complaining about finals but then sticking around after the bell?
Himiko forces herself not to wince for fear of breaking her concentration. Back when she was a student, she wasn't exactly keen on getting back to her house as soon as possible either. Even so, she feels a little justified at her frustrations. They don't have to hang around the school, do they? Exams are over, summer break is here! Go shopping, or swimming or something.
Despite how annoying they are, the stragglers don't delay her for long, and soon enough she's free and clear to reach the library. Lucky her, exams being over means that there's no reason for anyone to be here studying, leaving her free to breath. Letting herself exist again, she stretches her arms up above her head and back, feeling the satisfying tug in her spine. This shouldn't take her long.
She slips into a chair in front of a computer, her fingers on the keyboard before she's touched down. It only takes her a moment to make the search.
Toga Himiko
The results are instant. Several articles about her attack on Saito, and a few others she doesn't recognize, dated to Fuzzy Time, so she doesn't actually know whether they're about her or not. Her stomach sinks at the picture of Saito's face. He's still cute. If she had told him, would he have—no. Stop deluding yourself; no one would pity something like you that way. He'd have been horrified and he'd have been right. She proved that pretty conclusively when she carved him open. And those other people… if they were unlucky enough to run into her… She swallows. They all wanted to live their lives, same as her. They were just lucky enough to be people, until that luck ran out when they met someone who wasn't.
It doesn't matter. It doesn't. Matter. Either way, she has what she came for—she gave her name when they asked—wasn't thinking—and if they have that, it's only a matter of time before they realize they've let a monster into the henhouse. Time to go.
She flicks the mouse up to close the window—
"Taking an interest in current events, Toga?"
—and screams, jumping out of her chair. Apparently taking that as permission, Mr. Nedzu climbs onto the chair and glances at the screen.
"I wish more of my students would show that kind of initiative. Awareness of the world is paramount to surviving it, wouldn't you agree?" He does not wait for her to respond. "Though, of course, there is always media bias to be aware of; an important thing for anyone to learn. Nevertheless, a free press is one of the greatest assets most people will ever have."
Her training takes over, and she smiles softly. "I'm very sorry, sir; I didn't hear your approach. Please forgive my outburst."
He's already waving her off before she finishes, instead more interested in hoisting himself from the chair onto the computer table. "Nothing to worry about. I'm aware of the effect I can have on people."
Though she gives nothing away, internally, her heart simultaneously tightens and plummets. How could he have snuck up on her? She didn't notice a thing! Even distracted, she shouldn't be that careless! Stupid, stupid, stupid! And he saw! If he didn't know before, he certainly does now! No—he knows. He has to know. That's why he's here. He already knew somehow, what she was planning. This was an ambush.
"Personally, I've been rather fond of the reporting on the Aldera investigation recently. Maybe you'd find it to your liking?" He meets her eyes, and even though he worded it like a suggestion, Himiko knows it's not a request.
"Is that so?" Swallowing quietly, she sits back down, heart hammering in her chest.
Why hasn't he killed her already and been done with it?
Keeping her expression still, Himiko opens a new tab and searches. There's more coverage than there was of herself, and she doesn't know what that means or how to feel about it. She defaults to not feeling anything. That's always safest. The first article is more recent, written some time after the start of the investigation and mostly covering the surprising number of indictments that had been found. Even so, she doesn't understand.
"A school closure?"
"Indeed. Gross negligence, endangerment, anti-social Quirk misuse—I hadn't anticipated the embezzlement charge." He shakes his head, making a noise that Himiko almost doesn't recognize as clicking his tongue. "As an educator myself, I'm ashamed. The institution was a blight on the entire field." Mr. Nedzu reaches over and taps his paw to the screen, scrolling the article further down. Himiko blinks. She hadn't realized that these are touchscreen monitors. Before she can think of how to react to that, he taps the screen again, halting it. "Right there."
She blinks. It doesn't change what she sees. "Bakugou?" It's definitely him, pictured in a suit. Even with the focus of the shot on the school staff approaching the courthouse, Himiko recognizes him from that time Mr. Nedzu brought him in to meet with her. "Why is he…?"
"Aldera is the school he attended. He agreed to testify against them after it became clear how badly they'd failed him as teachers."
"This is fascinating material, but I do not understand why you directed me to look into this."
Mr. Nedzu hums. "I suppose you could call it a… demonstration. That our environments play a part in shaping us, and, as such, have a responsibility to play that part to the best of their abilities, lest they harm or mislead those under there care." He pauses. "How have you enjoyed the blood we've provided?"
Mr. Nedzu makes eye contact with her, not even flinching at the scalpel aimed at his head. "Oh dear. I've seen far worse than you wield one of those."
Something primal in Himiko, the monster she always was, snarls. Tension roils in her body in waves, ebbing and flowing throughout her. She can feel her mask, already delicate from her time on the streets, finally crumbling away from her face. The only part of her that keeps still is her hands, aiming the stolen blade at the enemy. She's glad she had the foresight to take it with her.
A bead of sweat forms on her forehead, slipping slowly down her face, around and under her eye, and passes right by the corner of her lips. Silence stretches longer and longer between them. Neither of them speak, just standing their ground, staring at each other. Waiting for the other to break.
Himiko could kill him now, she's sure, but that doesn't mean anything. If he knows she's here, they all do. He wouldn't be so stupid as to get near a monster without backup.
If she kills him, she's dead before he even hits the ground.
But what the fuck is he waiting for!? Why is he standing there looking so calm when she's right next to him?
With each moment that passes, the ringing in her ears gets louder and louder, the deep, rhythmic banging of her heart in her chest. It's the only thing she can hear. It's driving her insane.
"Well?" she eventually demands. "Say something!"
There's a pause, as if he's mocking her. "What would you have me say?"
"Why are you— what are— I— why…"
Blubbering over her own words like this is mortifying. She can't even vocalize the simplest thing in the world. She's a monster. Heroes kill monsters. Good, Normal people cheer them on. The world keeps turning. That's how it is. Monsters like her don't get to live freely; that's the price everyone else pays so that they can do it. Himiko doesn't even blame them; why shouldn't something like her be put down when all she does is take and drink and lie and drink drink drink—
He didn't. Why didn't he?
Stupid Himiko, stupid Himiko, didn't even notice he was giving her blood.
"What do you want from me!?"
This time, he answers immediately. "The same thing I want from everyone who enters this school."
Her grip tightens on the scalpel. "That's not—"
"Are you aware that today is the last day of the term?"
What.
"Yeah," she says. "I heard people talking about their finals." Where is he going with this? She can't read him. She reads people. She reads everyone. She has to or they'd have killed her a long time ago. She can't read him. He's nothing like anyone else she's ever read, his proportions are totally different, his expressions aren't real. She doesn't have the slightest idea what he's thinking and that sends something down her stomach.
He smiles. It's fake. "Hero Students, such as Midoriya, have their own End of Term Exam after everyone else; a practical. Recovery Girl has a remote office set up to observe and to treat any injuries that result. Would you care to join her?"
Midoriya Izuku's suspicions are raised when he hears the instructions to get changed and meet up at the parking lot. While most of their practical lessons have them shuttle to one of UA's many various training facilities, they're usually told ahead of time which one they're going to. Unless the exam itself is about to be held in the parking lot—which isn't impossible, Izuku supposes—they're deliberately hiding the location from the class.
By this point, the class has more-or-less figured out how to behave, which makes things easy as Class Vice President to wrangle them to the parking lot on time. If they hadn’t before the end of the term, Izuku would’ve been extremely concerned. Mr. Aizawa, however, is waiting for them already. And he’s not alone; several other teachers are standing in line with him.
The early summer sun doesn’t quite beat down on them, but it heats his skin through his fur. There’s a breeze, a gentle one, that mostly serves to remind them all of what exactly is at stake. This exam determines whether or not they’re getting extra remedial lessons over the summer holiday. Personally, Izuku suspects that Mr. Aizawa is hiding something about that threat, but he absolutely believes that the consequences of failure will be… unpleasant.
“...we’ll be starting the test momentarily,” Mr. Aizawa says. “Obviously, this is a test you can fail. So if you want to have fun with everyone else this summer, then you should take this seriously.”
It’s Jiro who asks first. “Why so many teachers…?”
“I’m sure you’ve been speculating on what the test will be; gathering intel, theorizing. Unfortunately—”
“Hello everyone!” calls Nedzu from behind them. The class as a group turns in surprise to see him waving. Izuku takes some small solace that Jiro didn't hear him approaching either. “Apologies for being late; something urgent needed my attention.” He clears his throat. “For a variety of reasons, we’ve decided to rework your exam structure, starting with today’s test!”
“What do you mean?” asks Yaoyorozu, as Nedzu walks past them to take his place next to the other teachers.
“The rise in recent Villain attacks have rather given us pause,” he says, with dramatic flourish. “The invasion of our campus, the Hero Killer running rampant for as long as he did; these are challenges we never anticipated first year students might need to face. As such, we’re focusing more on your ability to face off against human opponents. That is to say, simulating something akin to a real battle. Which is why, children…” Nedzu gestures to the gathered faculty members, “You will be paired up to face off against one of these fine educators!”
Well, Izuku supposes that's better than fighting a serial killer. But…
"Against the teachers…?" Uraraka grimaces, and Izuku doesn't blame her. These are Pro Heroes with years of experience, which would already be a nigh-insurmountable challenge. Factor in that these are the people teaching them, and the idea of anyone in the class being able to beat them becomes laughable. Which teaches could he actually beat?
Before Izuku can make it farther than analyzing his odds against Midnight—he can't—Nedzu continues.
"Your partners and your opponents have already been decided!" he claps his paws together. "We've gone over your every class, and looked at your strengths, your weaknesses, your fighting styles, the ways you move, how you interact with one another. And from all of that, we personally determined how to assign you all."
"Yaoyorozu, Asui, you're against me," Power Loader says, jabbing a thumb against his chest. The two glance at each other and nod in unison, moving into line with their opponent.
Thirteen raises their hand. "I'll be facing Hatsume and Ojiro."
Hatsume takes a step back. "If you destroy my babies, I'll never forgive you!"
"Right," says Ectoplasm. "Hagakure. Shinsou. I've been assigned to crush you both." Both of them gulp.
Mr. Aizawa—no, Eraserhead—tugs on his capture scarf, lazily smirking. "Todoroki, you're with Aoyama against me." Aoyama strikes a pose and Todoroki ignores him.
By contrast, Snipe simply nods; though with his gas mask, it's harder for him to visibly emote. "Tokoyami and Iida against me. Good luck."
"A most fearsome hunt…" muses Tokoyami.
"Sero and Jiro," growls Hound Dog. "You better take this seriously!" They respond to the news that they have to fight him rather well, Izuku thinks.
Midnight rolls her eyes with the same air of seduction she manages to put into every action in costume. "Shoji and Ashido, you're the little dears I'm facing today. Try to keep up," she purrs. Yeah, that's his mentor alright.
"I've got Sato and Uraraka," says Cementoss, unphased by his coworker's antics. Sato offers Uraraka a fist bump and she takes it.
There are only two groups left now and Izuku is definitely in one of them. And, more worryingly, the two absolute worst-case scenarios are both still plausible, seeing as neither of those teachers have taken a duo yet. All Might may not be in the lineup, but with his speed that doesn't mean anything. He's probably conserving time anyway.
"My little listeners are up next," says Present Mic, which only worries Izuku more. "Koda and Kirishima, you gotta deal with me."
Oh. That leaves…
"Pardon the indulgence," Nedzu says, baring his fangs in a way that you could mistake for a smile. "I simply had to wait until the end. I, of course, will be your opponent, Midoriya, Kaminari."
At least he isn't All Might. That is, by no exaggeration, the only bright side to any of this. Not that Izuku thinks he has a chance in hell at beating Nedzu, but if he fought All Might he'd get Detroit Smashed so hard it would retroactively unrabbit him, so this is, technically, an improvement, if you squint.
"The ten teams will start the test simultaneously," Mr. Aizawa continues. "You'll all be in separate locations from the other teams. Once you arrive at your stage, you'll receive your full briefing from your respective proctor. As I'm sure you've guessed, you'll be taking the busses. Don't dawdle."
Familiar with Mr. Aizawa's thoughts on punctuality, the class disperses almost instantly, already paired up and with their teacher. It takes maybe twenty seconds for all of them to board their busses and take their seats.
"My, it has been quite a while since I took to the field myself like this for students," Nedzu says, clamboring up into the special driver's seat for the bus. "I'm looking forward to this, and I hope you two are as well."
That's certainly a way you could describe Izuku's current emotional state. Not necessarily accuretly, but he can't exactly stop you.
Apparently, Kaminari feels differently. "Man, we have this in the bag," he says quietly. "With you there's no way we can lose!"
Izuku wishes he felt the same. Nedzu knows everything there is to know about both of them—their Quirks, the way they behave in classes, hell he definitely has reports of how they handled themselves on their internships. Izuku wouldn't be surprised if he somehow had the minutes for Izuku and Rumi's spa day. Intelligence is what Nedzu is famous for, and if he doesn't have some means of counting Izuku's Quirks, Izuku will eat his costume.
But that's not what a fucking bunny would say. Izuku puts his smile on with a glint in his eyes.
"I bet you we finish first."
"Hell yeah, man. Think we'll get bonus for that?"
"Who knows?"
"I admire your bravery, children!" calls Nedzu from the front of the bus. "Awfully certain of yourselves, aren't you?"
Kaminari shoots him a thumbs up. "Sure we are! 'Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once!'"
His bravado visibly wavers at the soft chuckling from the front of the bus. "Personally, I prefer… 'Lord, what fools these mortals be!'"
Ground Gamma isn't one of the training fields that they use often in class. It doesn't represent a real environment, or at least not one that exists at the scale of Ground Gamma. Thousands and thousands of industrial plants, woven together in a city-sized tapestry of pipes, turbines, ladders, silos, and, yes, the occasional building creates a grey-metal three-dimensional labyrinth. Navigation is a nightmare, with almost nowhere that can give you a proper view of your surroundings that isn't blocked with dozens of massive steel tubes. Almost nowhere. If you don't want to scale up half a kilometer of metal, there is one place that lets you see out into Ground Gamma: the entrance.
"Welcome!" says Nedzu, hopping up on the railing, leaving him at eye level with Izuku and Kaminari. "This is where you'll be fighting me!"
Kaminari raises a hand. "So, like, is that it? Because no offense, sir, but uh—"
Nedzu barrels on. "Your time limit is thirty minutes! You have two win conditions: either place these handcuffs on me," he holds out the pair for Kaminari to take, "or, alternatively, if even one of you makes it back here, you 'escape' from me."
"Kinda like the Battle Trial at the start of the year. Either we win or we do some kinda objective."
"The setup is similar, yes. However, I am not one of your classmates. I am a Pro Hero with years of experience." Something in Nedzu's eyes darkens. "I will make every fight you've had pale in comparison. That's what the 'escape' is for; sometimes as Heroes, it can be wiser to retreat and summon reinforcements. You could even say that we're testing your judgment."
"You make it sound pretty uneven," Izuku says, doing his best to keep his anxieties from showing. The last thing he wants right now is to demotivate Kaminari.
"How silly of me! I nearly forgot!" Nedzu reaches into his pocket again and retrieves a strange armband. "This little thing here is an Ultra-Compressed Weight. It manages to condense about half of my body weight into two of these fashionable accessories." His eyes twinkle. "By the way, these are courtesy of Hatsume."
"That's what those were for!? I knew I shoulda installed a remote taser in 'em!"
Thirteen shakes their head. "That wouldn't help, I'm afraid. We checked them over for that."
Dammit, Izuku can't believe he doesn't get to see her reaction to this.
Besides, weights? Physical skill isn't exactly Nedzu's personal wheelhouse. And if he's trapped the battlefield the way that Izuku expects, then he doesn't even need to move from wherever his lair is to destroy them both. As far as handicaps go, it's technically better than nothing.
"Well?" Nedzu chirps. "Chop, chop, boys! The test will soon begin!"
"Which direction do 'ya think he's attacking from?" asks Kaminari.
They're both at their marks now, pretty much square in the center of the arena. Surrounded on all sides by several city blocks of dense industrial infrastructure so thick it's hard to tell where one tanker begins and another warehouse ends. Their opponent: one of the single smartest Heroes to ever live, who has had unknown time to prepare the arena for them specifically. Unless one of those two Quirks he's still sitting on are some kind of precognition that warns him about imminent danger, this is going to be a very uphill fight.
"Hard to say," Izuku replies. "He's that way," he points at the controls of a crane near one of the walls of Ground Gamma, "but that doesn't actually tell us much."
Kaminari holds up a hand to peer out the distance. "Hm… he's pretty far away from us. Getting within zappy-zap or bunny-kick range isn't gonna be easy. Think he's gonna, like, snipe us from up there?"
"I'd assume he'd use the wrecking ball myself."
"Oh, yeah, that's totally what he's gonna do." He grins. "Nothing we can't handle though, right?"
No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the buzzer blares, announcing the start of the exam—and with it, the sudden appearance of dozens of very familiar robots. These ones are pure silver-gray compared to the gunmetal green Izuku remembers from the entrance exam, but the models are too distinct. Turtle-like three pointers emerging from rooftops, the one-wheeled one-pointers drifting around corners. Hundreds of small red laser dots ignite across Izuku and Kaminari's bodies.
"Ah," says Kaminari.
Izuku nods. "Shit."
Then the shooting starts.