Chapter Text
When Aizawa Shouta awoke on the day of the Entrance Exam, he could already tell there was going to be a problem.
It was an instinct he’d cultivated through over a decade of hero work, and having known Nedzu for even longer. He could feel it in his bones, a twinge, a dull ache that told him to steer well clear of the rat if he valued his continued existence.
He couldn’t avoid him completely, of course - they still had exams to observe - but Shouta would do his utmost to stay as far away from his boss as he could.
So when Nedzu called an urgent all-staff meeting that afternoon, after the last exam had finished, Shouta died a little inside.
Even so, you don’t ignore a call from Nedzu, so there he was, wedged in between Nemuri and Hizashi, clutching a massive thermos of coffee like a lifeline as they waited for the chimera to arrive. His two loudmouth friends were talking over his head, gossiping or something.
“So why do you think the boss called us all here, anyway? I mean, even All Might’s here!” Nemuri gestured to the Number One hero, who was currently in his skinny form - Small Might, his mind supplied - staring at his hands, quiet but unconcerned.
“It’s gotta be something to do with the exams, Nem. Maybe one of the little listeners was just that impressive?” Hizashi shrugged, nearly knocking into Shouta’s thermos. He grumbled at the blonde, who took no notice of him as Nemuri continued.
“Someone impressing Nedzu ? That’s unusual enough, but even he wouldn’t make the entire staff meet like this just to show off one kid. Whatever it is, it’s got to be serious.”
Any response Hizashi may have had was cut off by Nedzu himself walking into the room with a, “Indeed it is, Kayama.” The chimera was holding a box full of papers, nearly as tall as he was. He placed it at the head of the table before jumping up beside it, an unusually serious expression on his face. Without a word he began to pull papers from the box, passing them around to the teachers. All Might’s eyes widened and he coughed up a spray of blood when he received his, though Aizawa had little time to wonder about the reaction when he received his own shortly after.
It was a simple packet of papers stapled together, neatly but not professionally. The cover was blank except for the words,
Aizawa Shouta
Eraserhead
printed in the centre in a clean black font. Already, Shouta felt alarmed: few people should know his pro hero name, and even fewer should link it to his civilian name. Those that did wouldn’t be likely to concern Nedzu this much, so he was sure this was serious. He flipped it open.
It was… an analysis. Breaking down his Quirk, fighting style, capture weapon, even suggesting improvements for them. It would have been impressive if it didn’t feel so… creepy. The analysis was detailed and well thought out, nearing professional levels in quality, if not in format. The diagrams were well drawn and, even if the writer had a tendency to ramble, it was seriously useful. It brought up his weaknesses, yes, but suggested ways to improve on them or minimise their effects.
And then he turned to the psychological profile.
Closest relationships are with Yamada Hizashi (Pro Hero Present Mic), Kayama Nemuri (Pro Hero Midnight), and Iida Tensei (Pro Hero Ingenium).
Anyone who had spent long enough around them would know that but -
Diagnosed with depression and PTSD, currently medicating and undergoing therapy .
- he kept that private. Only his best friends knew about that.
And so it continued, listing every flaw, every mental foible of Shouta’s, until…
Still feels immense guilt over the apparent death of Shirakumo Oboro (Provisional Hero Loud Cloud).
No one could have known that. Not even Shouta himself acknowledged it; he kept that locked deep inside, pushed so far down that he’d need an excavator to dig it up and yet…
Here it was.
Shouta felt terrified . Here was every detail of his life, all mapped out and written in plain black and white. Every secret of his spilled onto the page, not cruelly or sadistically, but cold. Clinical. There was no conjecture, just basic fact and that terrified Shouta. He was a man that valued his privacy deeply, and now he felt raw, exposed, like a specimen under a microscope. He was not just seen, he was perceived. Aizawa Shouta was Known .
And that terrified him.
Glancing up, he could see that the others in the room felt the same way as him. Nemuri and Hizashi were as white as sheets either side of him and across the table All Might was shaking. In rage or terror Shouta didn’t know but he suspected it was both. The Number One hero must have some secrets, after all, and if the mysterious author knew about his childhood home life or the exact number of cats he’s owned in his life, - 14 - then they almost certainly knew about whatever skeletons the Symbol of Peace kept in his closet.
The others around the table all held similar expressions as well. The fear in the room, the utter dread over having your soul laid bare before you, was palpable. Nedzu stood on the table at the head, a grim expression across his muzzle. “As you can see, this is indeed a serious situation.”
The principal’s voice cut through the silence, and every pair of eyes snapped towards him. All Might shakily rose from his seat, straightening to his full height. Even in his skinny form, he had an intimidating aura of pure power. Icy blue eyes bored holes in Nedzu.
“Is this some kind of sick joke, Nedzu?!”
Their boss closed his eyes and shook his head. “Unfortunately not, Yagi. Allow me to introduce Midoriya Izuku.” He pulled out a remote and pressed a button, turning on the room’s projector. It showed an image of a teenage boy, with green hair, freckles and a nervous smile on his face. Altogether, he looked rather plain, except… except for his eyes.
Even through the projected image Shouta could see something in them, some strange glow that sent a chill through him like cold water on a sensitive tooth. It made him feel raw, vulnerable… it was the same feeling he got when reading that analysis.
“Midoriya-kun was an applicant for the support course today. In fact, he was the only applicant for the analysis track. If you are not aware, those in the support course must present a practical example of their own work in their exam. For those in the invention and costuming tracks their practical presentation is fairly straightforward. However, for the analysis track, they must hand in a detailed analysis project, to be scrutinised later.
“I had decided, for my own reasons, not to observe the heroics practical exams today, so when I heard that the sole analysis hopeful handed in a detailed analysis of every single member of staff at UA, well, I simply had to see it at once. Of course, as soon as I read my own document, I felt the need to call this meeting immediately.”
Vlad King spoke up, “So, what’s the kid’s Quirk? It’s got to be more than analysis - some of this stuff I would never admit to anyone - so, some kind of long distance mind reading?” A low murmur of agreement spread through the room
Nedzu pressed a button and another image came up, this time of a collection of documents all pertaining to Midoriya Izuku. A birth certificate, Quirk Registry form, UA application, everything. And they all had one thing in common.
“Quirkless?!” Someone shouted, but Shouta was too stunned to register who it was.
“They could be faked…” Thirteen - the usual voice of reason - pointed out, but Nedzu once again shook his head.
“All verified and cross-referenced. I’ve even dug into his medical files: he has the extra toe joint. Midoriya Izuku is Quirkless.” Silence fell, and Shouta almost missed the way All Might paled several shades. He was about to ask when Nedzu broke the silence once more. “But! I have my suspicions! I will be meeting with Midoriya-kun to confirm my thoughts, but for now, try not to worry too much.”
Though Shouta didn’t join in with the shout of indignation that rose from the room, he certainly agreed with it. After all, how couldn’t they worry when some child is running around with all of their darkest secrets in his head?
No, he was very worried.
Still, trying to argue with Nedzu was like trying to fight the weather, and soon the shouting died down. Nedzu, for his part, stood there and took it with little more than a small, sympathetic smile. “Unfortunately, there is little that can be done right now. In the meantime, it has been a long day. Please, go and get some rest.” He seemed to consider something for a moment, before continuing. “Oh, and if you are an Article 5 hero, keep on guard.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Article 5 was somewhat of a legend amongst heroes. It was generally used more for the police force, but it involved some heroes. No one outside of it really knew what it was, beyond it being secret, and that those involved often found themselves alienated from their coworkers. Despite himself, Shouta looked around the room, trying to see if anyone reacted to that differently to the others but, if they did, he didn’t see them.
With little fanfare, the meeting ended, a cloud hanging over the staff of UA as they left. Shouta himself wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment and curl up with his cats to recover from the emotionally taxing day.
He just hoped the rat would deal with Midoriya Izuku.