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Shouta has a better plan this time.
And he means it, truly, this time around.
He’d made a simple error, that is all. The idea was perfect, the execution flawed. He was right, of course, to know better than to give Izuku Midoriya someone quite as attention-grabbing as Nemuri Kayama. And he was smart, to do someone who wasn’t as high profile as Nedzu or All Might, or himself or another chaotic peer. He needed a person who was calmer, who was out-there but not in a form too far gone, too powerful and chaotic.
The only issue is that Shouta didn’t pick the right person.
He thought that Snipe would be fine. Snipe is a bit of a showman, but in a goofy, happy-go-lucky kind of way. He doesn’t shy from the limelight, but he focuses more on taking down threats than making witty quips or doing dramatic poses- although the man does quite a bit of that, admittedly. A rather calm option, especially when compared to the other people Midoriya has been assigned to, Shouta thought that it would all be fine.
And, most importantly, that the rest of his students wouldn’t be so openly attracted to Midoriya while the boy was impersonating the man.
But Shouta made one grave error, a mistake that still haunts him hours after the school day has ended. He didn’t know a minute detail that changed everything.
Because apparently , quite a few people think cowboys are hot.
And apparent-fucking-ly, Shouto Todoroki is included in that group. Along with a few others, Shouta is realizing, but Shouta can also see that, while many students in his class are attracted to Midoriya, it is Todoroki who clearly has feelings that crossed the line of simple attraction a long time ago, and as such Todoroki is the one Shouta will look to with annoyance and exasperation every time that he is reminded of the...effect Midoriya has on his peers.
But Shouta has learned from his errors, and he refuses to watch his Problem Child get wooed and romanced. He’s just beginning to accept that he’s become a dad, he’s not letting this go down without a say.
And so he’ll have a say, and to counter the effects of the last few days, he’s going to assign Midoriya to the plainest, most average man in existence.
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, a man who Shouta has only ever seen working or drinking coffee. Almost like himself, but without the unkempt appearance and habit of randomly passing out on floors.
The man is as average as can be, which is the perfect way to lose the attention that has been building up.
And the man is constantly covered, with a trench coat and everything.
Which means that there’s no possible way for Midoriya to seduce or attract people, whether the boy means to or not.
Thank fuck.
-----
Nineteen students wait in a room, watching the door. Some do this openly, others hide their interest. Todoroki, for example, stares at the entrance with anticipation, his normally blank face not quite so smoothed out as he opens a notebook. He seems to be more emotive than he used to be, before the personality assignments began, and being moved closer to Midoriya certainly has not harmed or hindered this change.
Bakugou, however, is one of the ones who do not make their attention well known. Instead, he only stares straight ahead, letting the door stay within his peripheral, but not much further in his line of sight. It’s as if he doesn’t want to admit that he is curious, but rather makes it out like he is trying to keep an eye on what he will have to deal with.
Todoroki and Bakugou, while not loud about their opinions, seem to be the polar opposites, the two ends of the spectrum on how class 1-A feels, when waiting for Midoriya. Because no one ignores it, not really. The acts have not become dull, have not lost their luster and intrigue. Midoriya changes so much each day, is so wildly different with each additional persona, that it is impossible for one of his peers to claim that they have lost interest.
And so they all watch the door, some eager, some simply filled with anticipation, and they watch the door as the bell rings.
And in comes Midoriya, dressed as plainly as he ever could be. A tan overcoat covers most of the boy’s frame, draping down his form. A white shirt can be seen from underneath, a perfectly done tie visible as well. Black dress pants, dress shoes, and white gloves make up the rest of the outfit, and the greenet is currently holding a tan hat in his right hand.
Reactions vary, here, within the class. First comes confusion, because no one can quite tell who Midoriya is supposed to be. They have never seen a hero in an overcoat, after all, and no one at Yuuei dresses in such a manner either.
But then Aizawa clears his throat, and he says, “Detective Tsukauchi is here to help me with an investigation. Do not disturb him.” This simple introduction is enough to help a few students, who remember the man asking for their recollections after the U.S.J. incident. The first reaction fades away, leaving behind others.
Some wonder why Midoriya is dressed as a detective, when so far he has always been a hero or hero student. There are, after all, plenty of heroes left to choose from, so it was not as if Aizawa had simply run out of heroes to choose from. A few discern one of the true reasons, the fact that Midoriya is completely covered up by his outfit. Some despair in this fact, while others are grateful that they won’t be too distracted throughout the day- even if Midoriya is still cute on his own.
A few focus on Aizawa’s explanation, wondering if Midoriya will actually help Aizawa find something. If so, they wonder just what that may be.
But the day has to continue for answers to be found, and so it does exactly that.
-----
Hizashi is, sadly, used to facing dread and nervousness when entering his own class in order to teach. It’s more upsetting when one realizes that this is a new response, created and enforced through the chaotic duo that is Shouta and Midoriya. Kami knows what the two can do, when they are left to their own devices together. In just over a week, the two have managed to turn the world on its head, bringing a new fear each and every day.
And, alright, maybe it’s not quite so bad. Hizashi does have a tendency to exaggerate, his showmanship not always the easiest to turn off. But still , he cannot help but be wary as he opens the door to class 1-A.
But today, it is not nerves that strike his heart. Rather, Hizashi is filled with a sense of confusion.
Because, to be quite honest, he has no idea who the sprout is supposed to be.
Yet Midoriya still greets him, nodding his head in a kind way as he says, voice calm, “Good morning, Yamada. How are you?”
“I’m good!” Yamada says reflexively, and watches how Midoriya hesitates in his movements, his eye twitching slightly before the boy settles.
A dry chuckle escapes the boy, and something about it sounds so tired . As if Midoriya has a major weight on his shoulder, or many small burdens that have piled up and up and up until he is being pushed down to earth.
“If you say so,” Midoriya says, and then he slips away to his desk, where a familiar looking hat rests on his desk.
Somehow, it is the hat that makes Hizashi realize, ‘Oh. He’s Tsukauchi.’
And that...that is okay. Hizashi doesn’t know the detective well, but he knows him well enough. Tsukauchi is a good, honest man. One who won’t make Hizashi feel the need to pull out his own hair.
So it is with an easy smile and a happy heart that Hizashi starts the lesson, knowing that he will have a good day today.
It is not what he is used to, but it is something Hizashi can appreciate without hesitation.
-----
Shouta sits in his classroom, eyes half-closed as he drinks his jelly packet. The door opens, but Shouta barely even blinks an eye. Midoriya walks in, two foam cups held in his grasp.
“Eraser,” Midoriya greets, and Shouta responds with a short hum. He sits across from Shouta, and sets down one of the cups. Shouta glances down at the cup, lip twitching up at the sight of the pure black coffee. Glancing back up, Shouta sees that Midoriya is already downing his own.
Despite how the coffee is still giving off wisps of steam.
Shouta isn’t even surprised, honestly, instead reaching over and picking up his own cup. He doesn’t even blink as the scalding hot liquid touches his tongue, already well used to the burning sensation.
Midoriya sets down his cup. It’s empty. This, too, isn’t surprising. With how tired Midoriya appears to be, with bone-deep exhaustion breaking his posture down and making his smile seem pulled up, Shouta wouldn’t be surprised if Midoriya drank an entire pot of coffee.
And that’s why he doesn’t say a thing when Midoriya sighs, frowns, and stands, picking up his cup and saying, “I’ll be right back.”
He returns ten minutes later with two pots.
They’re empty by the end of lunch, but the two are finally somewhat awake.
-----
Toshinori Yagi is having a good day. Truly, he is.
Because Midoriya, his boy, has been assigned to impersonate one of his dearest friends.
It is funny, he thinks, to see how the boy does so well. Amusing, in a way that makes Toshinori reach for his phone, taking pictures and sending them to Naomasa.
A touch embarrassing, when Midoriya calls him out for lying, eye twitching when Toshinori tells a white lie, having claimed that he remember all of his meals the past few days, but still heartwarming in a way that makes Toshinori smile through the tired reminder to take care of himself.
Midoriya as Naomasa is a sight to see, certainly. He doesn’t quite command anyone’s attention, his presence nothing special as he masks his cheerful aura behind a tired but hardworking persona. Instead he travels through the crowd, an average person among those who strive to go beyond. He is calm and safe and sensible.
And a part of him wonders, ponders, and asks if this is who Midoriya could have become. If this is who his boy would have been, if Toshinori had not seen the successor Midoriya was meant to be. If this is who Midoriya was set to be, if he had become a policeman or detective like Toshinori had told him to.
That part makes everything just a little more bittersweet, yet it also makes Toshinori more grateful for this day.
Because Midoriya isn’t a detective, nor a cop, nor anyone else. No, he is Izuku Midoriya, the current holder of One for All. He is not Naomasa’s boy, but Toshinori’s, and for that Toshinori thanks his past self for seeing the heart behind the hero-to-be before him.
And when the day is over, Toshinori decides, he will tell the boy.
But for the moment, he simply enjoys it. It is a good day, after all, and he will enjoy each one with his entire being.
-----
Shouta sighs with relief as the day ends, watching his students with a falsely disinterested gaze. Many of his students are eager enough to leave the room, happy to head back to the dorms to study, eat, or simply relax with their peers or by themselves.
That’s why, only a minute after the bell rang, Midoriya and his little group are the only ones left in the room. Uraraka is standing close to Asui, the two gently teasing Iida as the boy tries to give a lecture about something. Shinsou has perched himself on top of Midoriya’s desk, legs swinging aimlessly as he watches the rest of the group silently, and Todoroki stands right beside Midoriya as the boy packs up his stuff, yellow backpack bright against his neutral outfit as he swings it over his shoulder.
“You guys didn’t have to wait for me,” Midoriya says, but he’s smiling as he does so and that makes his friends smile wider in return.
“Oh! Right, you’re going to see the principal again!” Uraraka remembers, and Midoriya nods.
“Yeah! He, ah, wanted to see my notebooks.” Midoriya looks bashful, as if this is something to be embarrassed over. Personally, Shouta thinks the boy should be proud, and his peers should be apprehensive, but he’ll keep his thoughts to himself.
Maybe.
“We don’t mind waiting for you,” Todoroki says. “We like your company.”
Midoriya’s beam brightens tenfold, somehow, and Shouta can’t help but huff out a silent laugh when his friends all look away.
Especially when Shinsou murmurs, “He’s too bright.”
Midoriya doesn’t seem to understand, head tilting at the reaction, but then he glances at the clock and lets out a tiny squeaking noise. “Oh, I shouldn’t be making Nedzu wait! I’ll see you guys at the dorms!” He rushes out to the sound of his friends saying goodbye, coat flaring out behind him with every step.
It’s silent for a moment, and Shouta looks back at his students to see them all staring at the closed door. And then it’s Asui who breaks the silence, voice pensive as she asks, “So, Todoroki...what are your thoughts?”
“He could wear a trash bag and still look good,” Todoroki decides, nodding to himself as if further confirming it, and Shouta sighs in disappointment.
Yeah, he’ll have to give a shovel talk soon enough. Damn.
Where Shouta finds grievances, his students find amusement, laughing at his declaration before leaving the room, so that the only things remaining are Shouta and his despair.
With the last student gone, and unwilling to think of Todoroki’s words any longer, Shouta heads down to the teachers’ lounge. Content, he sits down at his desk and begins to grade papers.
Perhaps an hour or so later, he decides to head back to his dorm. Satisfied and calm, he exits the lounge.
As Shouta walks through the halls, he suddenly hears the sound of someone cackling maniacally.
And then Shouta’s phone buzzes, and, curious, the underground hero pulls it out. He’s rarely texted, so it’s always attention-grabbing when his phone goes off.
A text from Nedzu waits for him.
‘ Izuku Midoriya is officially my personal student now. Thank you for finding him, and having him impersonate me. I believe that he will be my greatest student yet. :) ’
Shouta stares at the smile, at the message that comes before it. And he can only say one thing in response.
“Oh fucking hell.”
He has a feeling that his Problem Child is about to become a lot more problematic, but this time….this time, it will be intentional .
What has Shouta started?