Chapter Text
Ever since Tenya could remember, he wanted to be a hero.
Heroes had always been a part of his life, but that didn’t tell the whole story. Heroes were integrated into society, directly woven into its fibers— you couldn’t even walk down the street without seeing a hero walking by, on patrol, or hearing people gossip about the latest drama in the world of pro heroes.
He had grown up with heroes surrounding him, whether it be his brother walking him to school on his days off, or Auntie Nemuri babysitting him when he was a toddler (she was not a good babysitter and she was to blame for his… unfortunate first word,) or at some fancy charity event where everyone smelled vaguely of champagne— heroes had always been a huge part of his life.
Sometimes it was a little strange, seeing heroes outside of the prying eyes of the media, relaxed and outside of their costumes, but he got used to it.
Because of his upbringing, and his family’s place in hero society, everyone really expected him to become a hero. Everyone expected him to carry on the family legacy, to carry on the Ingenium title. And Tenya had no problem living up to those expectations. All he ever wanted to do was make his family proud— especially Tensei.
Tensei.
His brother was his world, his purpose, his motivation— everything. Tensei was strong, caring, dedicated and everything else a hero should be.
In just about every one of his happy memories, Tensei was there. Hide and seek, beach visits when he was little, blowing out candles on a birthday cake with brilliant blue frosting, visiting their grandparents on weekends. But there were bad memories too. Of course there were. But Tensei was there in a lot of those too. A beacon in the darkness. Hope.
Tensei was always there when he fell down, when thunderstorms and nightmares woke Tenya up in the night his brother would always be there. Tenya remembered one of his worst memories strikingly. Well, to say it was one of his worst memories made it sound horrible.
It was horrible, yes, but in a good way, if that made sense. He was three years old when it happened, but he remembered it like it was yesterday.
It was late at night on a Tuesday and Tenya had been sleeping like a baby. Even though he and his mother hadn’t done much that day, he just felt tired. He had taken four naps throughout the day, despite his mother’s protests that he wouldn’t be tired when bedtime came. But he was tired when bedtime came. Extremely tired.
He remembered Tensei picking him up and bidding their parents farewell as they went off to some fancy charity event held by some higher ups in the city. Tensei had climbed the stairs carefully and ran his fingers through Tenya’s hair as he opened the door to his younger brother’s room and walked over to the bed. Then Tensei had laid him down and tucked him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead before flicking off the lights and closing the door gingerly.
Tenya had been dreaming peacefully of flying around the city as a bird, when he was woken abruptly by a sharp pain jutting through his legs.
His calves felt like they were being stripped off of his bones, and Tenya’s only coherent thought was to scream with all the air in his lungs and to hope that someone would come save him. But soon he ran out of air to scream out, and no one was there. He needed to breathe but he couldn’t. The only thing he needed was the pain to go away.
Tensei had burst through the door and rushed to his brother’s side, thoughts no doubt running a mile a minute. He took in the scene, Tenya, tears rolling down his face as he gasped for air, kicking his legs weakly.
His legs…
A look of understanding passed over Tensei’s face as he scooped his brother up and rushed back down the stairs, sitting down on the couch. He rocked his brother slowly and rubbed his back comfortingly as Tenya sobbed into his shoulder.
Hours passed and Tenya’s breathing slowed and his posture slumped. He was asleep. Tensei stood up and massaged his brother's legs carefully, making sure to steer clear of the mufflers that were now poking out of his calves.
The elder Iida climbed the stairs and turned to his room. Tenya would sleep in his bed tonight, just in case.
The next morning, Tenya woke up to his brother shaking his shoulder with one hand, balancing two trays of food on his other arm. He blinked a few times as Tensei climbed onto the bed and passed his younger brother a tray, which had a tall glass of orange juice and an omelet on it. Ever since that day, eggs had been one of his favorite breakfast foods.
Growing his engines had been a motivator. A painful motivator, yes, but a motivator nonetheless.
He would be a hero for his family, and now that he had manifested his quirk his dream was closer to being reality. That’s all that mattered. He needed to make them proud.
So he worked.
Iida studied late into the night and trained so hard that he swore his legs were going to fall off. It hurt, but that meant it was working. He was getting stronger. All he could hope for was that one day he would be strong enough to make everyone proud.
Iida didn’t have very many friends growing up, though that was partially his own fault. But that was fine. It was good to have social connections, yes, but he never was good with people. No one liked him for him, anyway.
Ever since he was little, people knew who he was— his classmates included. Some of them would avoid him, others would try and get on his good side because of his family— though most were just content sitting off to the side and watching him. There were some kids who approached him with good intentions, but they always ended up leaving in the end, giving up halfway through making a friendship.
Besides, Iida was always more comfortable alone anyway. The only person he could be with for hours on end without feeling like he had just ran ten miles, sans quirk, was Tensei.
Everyone else was just so… tiring.
He had to keep up appearances. He was of the Iida family and he couldn’t let them down. So he was serious, made hand motions that most people thought were weird when he talked (he had Auntie Nemuri to thank for that bad habit), and was a stickler for the rules. Unfortunately, this sentiment wasn’t shared by all of his classmates.
So when Iida would scold them for running in the halls or making fun of another student, they noticed him. And they didn’t like what they saw. So instead of making fun of the sweet boy who just so happened to cry more than usual, they made fun of him.
His glasses, his engines, his eyebrows, the way he spoke, how he moved his hands, his grades— anything about him.
At first Iida was just confused. Why were they talking about him like that? Why would they snicker when he entered the room? But slowly, he started to understand. He understood that children were cruel. Just like they had made fun of Fumetsu for crying too much— they were making fun of how he talked.
It didn’t go much farther than teasing for the most part, but there were moments when no one else was around and the kids thought they could get away with roughing him up a little.
When the leader of the group had thrown the first punch, Iida didn’t know what to do. He had taken several different martial arts and knew how to redirect a hit, but he never thought he would have to actually use his knowledge— at school no less! Well, that wasn’t true. He expected to use it when he got into UA one day, in hero training. But that was years in the future.
So he swerved to the side and did what he did best.
He ran.
He ran all the way home— which was a ridiculously long way to go, but it felt good. Feeling the wind in his hair, the steady thumping of his feet on the pavement as he weaved between passersby.
It was amazing.
From that day on, Iida kept his head held high. He wasn’t going to lay down like a wounded puppy just because one person didn’t like him. Heroes fought for justice and some people didn’t like that. Villains didn’t like it. Some civilians didn’t like heroes.
Heroes never stopped because people didn’t like them. They kept going because people believed in them. Tensei believed in him and that’s all that mattered.
He was on a timer. There was a year until the UA. His grades were amazing, but they weren’t good enough. So he worked harder. He was fast, but he wasn’t fast enough. So we worked harder.
The next thing he knew, the timer went off. It was time for the entrance exam.
As Iida climbed the stairs, he set his face determinedly. He had refused his family’s offer to give him a recommendation. He wanted to get into UA on his own merit— his own skill. He wanted to prove to them that he could be a hero. He wanted to prove that to himself too.
The written exam had been fairly easy. He had been prepared for such a test. But the real challenge lay in the practical.
No one knew what UA would put their examinees through, given the crazed stunts they’d pulled in the past. But there was no point in worrying. Everything should be explained before the actual exam.
So he walked through the halls and followed the signs pointing to the auditorium. It’s not like he needed them though— he had memorized the layout of UA years ago.
Entering the room, Iida found it already filled with people. No surprise there. Thousands of kids from across the country came to try and get into the illustrious heroing school, with only a select few getting in.
Iida marched through the rows, searching for an open seat. How many kids got in every year? He needed a number. A solid number. Numbers didn’t make fun of you. Numbers didn’t mock you behind your back or laugh at you right in front of your face.
He sat down heavily, exhaling sharply and clenching his fists. He hadn’t even gotten to the difficult part— the practical— and he was already freaking out. He needed to calm down.
He needed to calm down.
Clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, Iida drew in a firm breath, then slowly let it out. He repeated this until the auditorium was filled to the brim, no seat left unfilled.
Opening his eyes, Iida looked down at the paper every participant had been given. Four types of robots. Four faux villains.
In, out.
There was someone muttering to themselves a few rows down. It was ridiculously distracting.
In, out.
The next thing anyone knew, Present Mic was standing at the front of the room in all his leather-clad glory. Just seeing him calmed Iida’s heartbeat a little. He had a lot of good memories with Uncle Hizashi— much more than he had with Auntie Nemuri.
He remembered, years ago, asking the voice hero why he wore elbow pads with his costume. Staying safe was always good, yes, but Uncle Hizashi never seemed the type to voluntarily wear such a thing. And he wasn’t. Apparently, Uncle Shouta was so overprotective and worrisome, even back when they attended UA, that he had dragged Hizashi over to the support course students, and forced them to give him padding whenever he got hurt.
That’s what Iida assumed had happened, considering that both his brother and Uncle Hizashi had been laughing wildly at the story.
Iida snapped back to attention as Uncle Hizashi— wait no, he was at work— as Present Mic began explaining how the practical would go. Each of the robots had different amounts of points assigned to them—
There it was again. That relentless muttering.
Iida’s eyes scanned the rows below him. Where was that mutterer? They were distracting him, and they weren’t paying attention to what Present Mic was saying.
In, out.
He stood up and called out the mutterer— who turned out to be a boy with curly green hair and freckles— and asked about the fourth type of robot. Even though Present Mic was all the way down on the stage, Iida swore he saw the ghost of a fond smile when he recognized who was calling him out. It was probably just his imagination though.
He sat back down and kept breathing.
In, out.
Then, it was time for the exam. He was in the same testing area as the green-haired boy, who was still muttering to himself.
After stopping the boy from distracting another examinee, Iida prepared himself.
There was no doubt in Iida’s mind that this would be one of the most difficult and physically exhausting things he would ever do. But he was ready for it.
The next thing anyone knew, everyone was rushing into the arena, some propelling themselves forward with their quirks, others just running forward. Iida burst to the front of the pack and drew in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. For Tensei and his mother, for Uncle Hizashi, Uncle Shouta, and Auntie Nemuri.
He would do it for himself too.
…
Tenya sighed loudly and ran his hands through his hair. The entrance exam was absolute hell, to say the least. He’d gotten a decent number of points, sure, but he failed the Iida name.
With the zero pointer, and that girl with the pink cheeks… He ran away, just like everyone else. Everyone except for that green-haired boy, who had broken his arm to save her. Tenya was no hero. Not by a long shot. He didn’t step in when it mattered most. What good was defeating villains if you didn’t save civilians? He was a fraud, through and through. He couldn’t be a hero if he put his own safety before those that couldn’t defend themselves.
Taking his glasses off, Tenya placed them on the night stand off to his left before flipping over onto his stomach, smothering his face in a pillow.
He was sure there were slivers of metal from the robots embedded into his shins, and he should probably stretch a bit more, but right now the only thing Tenya needed to do right now was sleep. But he couldn’t. Not with all these thoughts running rampant in his head.
Sighing, Tenya forced his face deeper into the pillow.
In, out.
How could he be a hero if he couldn’t save one person that was right in front of him?
In, out.
How could he face Tensei if he didn’t get in?
In, out.
How could he face Uncle Shouta and Uncle Hizashi and Aunt Nemuri if he got in, knowing he wasn’t a true hero?
In, out.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but after dozens more questions, he found himself falling asleep.
…
With every passing day, Iida’s posture got tenser and tenser.
The waiting for was killing him slowly, poisoning him from the inside out through the countless worries and doubts swirling around in his head. He could barely pay attention in class, and when he tried to, he would mess up just about every problem he attempted to do. So for just about all of his classes, Iida would twirl his pen around in his fingers, keep his eyes trained on the clock, and take slow, calculated breaths until the day was over.
When the bell finally rang, Iida made a point to pack up his things slowly. He really wasn’t in the mood to be caught in a stream of rowdy teenagers. He left the classroom and started walking down the hallway stiffly. The dull ache in his bones from the entrance exam hadn’t gone away just yet, even though it had been a few days.
Slowly descending the stairs, Iida pulled out his phone and checked the time. He really wasn’t in the mood to walk home, so he needed to catch his train.
Walking faster, Iida weaved his way through the remaining students and exited the school gate. He was on a sidewalk, then in the train station, then surrounded by people, then he was in front of his house.
Almost robotically, Iida emptied the contents of the mailbox and unlocked the door, taking his shoes off before walking through the house. Thankfully, no one else was home. Iida didn’t know if he could handle his mother asking how his day was, especially with her fake smile and hardened tone.
Walking into the kitchen, Tenya swiftly grabbed a glass and opened the fridge, expertly pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
Glancing down at the mail in his hand, the blue-haired teen absentmindedly sorted through it, sipping his juice thoughtfully. Bills, bills, letters from relatives, a few magazines, and a letter from UA.
Setting everything else on the counter, Iida stared at the envelope. Ever so slowly, he opened the letter and pulled out a small metal disk. He gingerly placed the disk on the counter, Iida drew in a breath, and turned it on. The hologram flickered to life, and Iida was greeted by the familiar face of Midnight.
“Tenya my darling, it’s wonderful to see you again!” She smiled dazzlingly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I haven’t actually seen you in a long time, but you know what I’m saying.”
Winking, Midnight started to walk across the screen slowly, the camera following her. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’ve been spending the past few days distracted, caught up in your own head, and drowning your sorrows in orange juice.” She clicked her tongue. “Moving on, I know you must be bursting with anticipation, but I am a cruel woman, so I will drag this on for as long as I can.”
“Uhh, Miss Midnight, you still have like, fourteen more of these to record,” someone said from behind the camera, voice shaking slightly.
“Oh what a pity.” Midnight frowned. “As you’ve just heard, due to time constraints, I can’t torment you for as long as I wish, so I’ll try and keep this brief. Blah blah, heroism, blah blah defending the defenseless, blah blah point values, blah blah. What you really need to know is that you, my favorite nephew, are going to be one of the best heroes this world has ever seen!”
Turning to face the camera, Midnight thrust her arms upward. “Iida Tenya, this is the start of your hero academia!”
With one last wink, the video finished.
Iida drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He got in.
Immediately, his mind started racing.
What would his classmates be like? What would their quirks be? What would their fighting styles be? What would their hobbies be? Would he get along with anyone?
He hoped he would find the green-haired boy again, he needed to apologise.
Picking up the disk and his glass of orange juice, Iida smiled softly.
He was on his way to becoming the hero he always dreamed of.