Chapter Text
Izuku scrutinized the detective in front of him before asking, “So UA reached out to you about this assignment, not the other way around?”
“That is correct.”
“Given your quirk I would have assumed that you were a better liar than this, Naomasa.”
“Apparently I am to everyone but you, Izuku. You’re on a course to kill yourself and consequently your mother. U.A. has an assignment that will keep you occupied in a safe way, and if you do a good job of this it may turn into a larger partnership that will create a more cohesive cooperation between the future’s heroes and police officers.”
“No pressure,” Izuku muttered.
“We both know you’re excited about the opportunity, you just don’t want to admit that you need to physically slow down,” Tsukauchi said. “And I know about the pedagogy courses you took a few summers ago when you were bored.”
“I don’t see how that works as evidence.”
“You don’t have to be excited about it, Midioriya, but it is an order. You can either accept the assignment, or go on bedrest. We both know what you’re going to choose, so you’ll be going to U.A. immediately to discuss what exactly you’ll be going over.” Tsukauchi stood, gesturing for Izuku to leave his office. “After your nonsense yesterday no one wanted to volunteer to drive you, so you’ll be riding with Mori.”
“Yes, Detective,” Izuku grumbled. His antics had apparently done more damage than he’d thought, because Naomasa had a steely look in his eyes that was reserved for when he had done something extraordinarily stupid. He wheeled himself to the front door with a bitter look on his face, although his mind was working overtime. He’d been given a brief description of the assignment, but Izuku knew that Nezu almost definitely had an ulterior motive, and he’d likely been cooking this plan up for a while.
So, although it wasn’t ideal, Izuku knew resistance was futile. Mori waited outside with the van that the station had recently added to their fleet of vehicles. Apparently Tsukauchi had justified the purchase by arguing that it would be useful in the apprehension of people whose quirks made them too large for normal vehicles, but everyone knew it was to reduce the risk of Izuku reopening his injury. Besides, Mori had been claiming that he needed a vehicle to do parking duty with when he wasn’t on missions.
Mori was silent as he helped Izuku into the van, and Izuku assumed that it would be similarly quiet on the car ride. However, about halfway through the drive, the police officer sighed. “Can you, like, try not to die for at least a few days? Anyone else would love the opportunity to take a break for a while, maybe catch up on some sleep, but no, Little Midoriya can’t stop himself. If you’re going to bleed out, at least do it quickly and get it over with, stop torturing everyone around you.”
Shocked, Izuku stared at the officer as he drove. After a few beats, he hesitantly said, “I’ll try, I guess?”
Pulling up to the main gate of U.A., Mori put the van in park. “I don’t really care, you’re their problem now.”
A handful of teachers were waiting at the gate for him - it must have been their prep period.
Present Mic was the first person to greet him at the door of the van, smile wide. An Ectoplasm was directly behind Mic, while another was chatting with Midnight.
Mori had barely let Izuku out of the van before he drove off, muttering something about going to get boba. Left in the care of U.A.’s finest, Izuku was pushed towards Nezu’s office amidst some small talk. It was nice to see the teachers, but izuku was getting more than a little impatient to find out what Nezu had in store for him.
The principal was waiting for him, just as expected. “Young Midoriya, what a pleasure it is to have you in our school once again. I can’t tell you how delighted we were to find out that you had accepted our humble offer.”
“You say that as if I had any choice in the matter,” Izuku said, raising an eyebrow.
“We always have choices, it’s merely a matter of what we do with them, but you already know that.”
“So why am I here? I’ve already gotten the job description you gave Tsukauchi, but I want to hear from you why I’m here.”
Nezu templed his fingers - paws? “Well, Detective, you have proved to be an exceptional member of the police force. In that time I’m sure that you’ve been exposed to the inadequacies of collaboration between our country’s heroes and our police force.”
“I’m listening.”
“You of all people are more than aware of the public perception of our police. Quite frankly, the police are largely seena s the butt of a joke, rather than the organization that is vital to keeping modern society in check. The publick has no idea how instrumental the police are to keeping the peace, and heroes largely have no idea either.”
Izuku scrutinized his furry companion. “I do know all of this, so what?”
“I want to change this. In these troubled times we need vigilance from everyone, and we need a better partnership between the police force and the hero commission if we’re going to protect our citizens the way we should.”
Narrowing his eyes, Izuku said, “Makes sense, but there’s still something you’re not telling me.”
Chuckling, the principal held up his paws. “I should have known that you wouldn’t accept a simple answer. To be frank, Midoriya, you have a gift for shaking things up. Our current hero students are some of our strongest yet, they’ve faced much adversity. However, there are some misconceptions they need to face head-on if they’re going to be the best heroes they could be.”
“And how exactly am I supposed to accomplish that?”
“Detective Midoriya, I’m fairly certain that your mere presence will lead them to change. And that’s why I want you to teach them.”
Izuku snorted. “Right, because hero students are going to be so eager to listen to the quirkless cop. In case you haven’t noticed, everything about me is a joke to them.”
“You’ve studied the fundamentals of rhetoric, no? I’m sure that being the youngest detective in history will lend you a certain ethos. Regardless, you’re stuck here teaching for the time being. I don’t think you’re capable of not putting your all into an assignment.”
Izuku wanted to grumble, but he also knew that Nezu was right. “Where do I start?”
That conversation was what led to Izuku sitting among a number of U.A.’s finest teachers, discussing the logistics of his assignment.
“We don’t have time to waste,” Vlad King said, banging a fist on the table. “My students need experience, not a workshop on how to make nice with the police.”
“But your students will be working with the police, correct?” Izuku said as pleasantly as he could muster.
Waving his hand, the hero said, “Yes, yes, the police are valuable support for heroes, but there’s no reason to take away vital class time. Graduation is coming, and my students need to be prepared for the real world.”
“The police are a completely separate organization from the hero association. While there is frequently collaboration between the police and heroes, we work independently, not as your support. Teaching your students to work with the police would not only help protect citizens more effectively, but it could save their lives as well.”
Up to that point Izuku had stalwartly avoided looking at All Might - he didn’t even think about letting his eyes stray in the direction of the man, but he couldn’t miss the way the hero jumped at Izuku’s comment, and a slightly twisted part of him was glad of the guilt he saw on the number one hero’s face.
Luckily Nezu came to Izuku’s rescue. In his terrifyingly cheerful way, the principal said, “This isn’t merely a suggestion. I believe that implementing a program such as this will not only help us to keep the population safer, but will revolutionize hero-police collaboration.”
“Midoriya will start with my class,” Aizawa said, his first addition to the conversation. “My class has interacted with him in the past, so they might be more receptive to what he ahs to say.”
“Receptive? Surely the students would be willing to listen to -”
“No, they’re not going to want to listen to me,” Izuku said evenly. “Everything about society leads people to ignore any police personnel, especially heroes. I may be here because of extenuating circumstances, but Nezu is attempting to address a legitimate need.”
In that moment, Izuku felt a newfound determination for the assignment that he’d been given. This program, if successful, would revolutionize the country as it stood, and his stubbornness wasn’t worth risking such a possibility.
It was clear that not all of the teachers were convinced of the importance of Izuku’s presence, but they established a schedule of when he would be going to each hero class. He had mixed feelings about the assignment - he wanted to help improve the infrastructure for dealing with criminals, and he had been in the police department for long enough to know exactly why a program like this was necessary. He was also acutely aware that it was going to suck, though. If the teachers were this reserved about his presence, the hero students were going to be furious, especially if they didn’t have any warning.
“My students are all out on a mission and likely won’t be back for the rest of the day,” Aizawa said, rising from his seat with the principal nestled in his scarf. “Midoriya can come to my classroom tomorrow morning to announce the change in curriculum later.”
“Excellent plan, Aizawa,” the principal said, patting the scruffy teacher’s face. “In the meantime we’ll work on getting you the proper security clearances and whatnot, Midoriya.”
Izuku nodded, slowly wheeling himself behind the principal and Aizawa, his mind already buzzing with plans for the students.
Kit’s Korner
“So U.A. is going to keep Little Midoriya occupied for the rest of the day, right?” Sasaki said, her eye twitching just a bit. It seemed to be a nervous habit that had developed after Izuku decided to test the limits of their quirks.
“Or at least until one of us goes to pick him up,” Saito confirmed.
“Good, because the finalists are here.” Opening the door between the lobby and the main portion of the police station, Sasaki led in the three final applicants for the bodyguard / babysitter position. The police station had pooled their money to fund the position so that Midoriya hopefully wouldn’t kill himself before he got out of the wheelchair.
“How are we going to tell Little Midoriya about this?” Nakamura asked, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t want to be there when he hears that we think he needs a babysitter.”
“We don’t tell him,” Sohma halfheartedly suggested.
“How good are these guys? Do we really think that they could manage not to have Midoriya notice them?”
“No, they’re not going to be that good,” Izuku said.
“I mean, they’re old enough that they have at least a little bit of an edge on little Midoriya,” Saito said.
“They might for a while, but I would notice eventually,” Izuku said, wheeling towards his office.
The police station froze as everyone collectively turned to look at the detective in the wheelchair. “Present Mic dropped me off, and none of you are terribly good at being discreet. I’ll either take the position at U.A. or the bodyguard, you don’t get both.”
The station was silent until Izuku’s office door closed. After a few tense moments, Mori turned to Saito. “I told you so, you owe me lunch tomorrow.”