2

Atsushi would be lying if he said that the newest collective case wasn't making him nervous. Sure, he'd fought against foreign terrorists and creatures to protect his city consequently nearing death multiple times but infiltrating the central point of the Japanese Hero Society? Completely out of his depths.

The weirdest part was the amount of people in this case.

He honestly didn't know why they had to go to a convenience store at 4 am before even reaching their temporary home, but what could he say? Dazai was a mystery for everyone but a few.

The thought that he would meet someone he knew here never crossed his mind, much less Izuku. Atsushi had no idea where his mentor was, and he had a feeling that he probably should care a little more.

-----------------

Denki glowered at the papers strewn across the desk, mentally cursing whoever had made him forget to turn in his schoolwork--even worse, finish it. It was on these days that he wished he could go back to the hellhole that was the mafia; at least he didn't have to work.

However, unlike his brother, he was not a masochist. If Midori-san's smile was anything to go by, the safest option was to become a child genius smarter than Yokohama's geniuses combined with the DOA's strategist all together and finish it all in record time. That didn't mean it wasn't a pain, "These last few years fried my brain cells."

Midori-san hummed in agreement and pointedly looked at the unfinished assignments haphazardly thrown around. The way he seemed to be brandishing his notebook was... mildly concerning, to say the least; if Mr. Broccoli was anything like the only person he'd met that had that height, a threat would come--

"If you don't finish your work, I'm pouring bleach into your eyes."

--now. Denki didn't think it would be that bad, but with what he's thinking about doing right now, he's so going to get beat up. What could he say? His brother was a horrible influence.

"You'd have to reach up to them first. Preferably by getting a growth spurt," he grinned, already prepared to feel the incoming pain. An image of a familiar executive popped up in his head as he felt a dark glare digging into his soul.

'I'm so dead.'

____

"It wasn't that hard."

'Wasn't that hard my ass, if you weren't breathing down my neck I would've ditched it again,' Denki pouted, rubbing his neck as he instinctively etched words onto the wooden surface of the table. It was a habit he couldn't quite shake off.

"Oi! Why are you two idiots downstairs at 6 in the fucking morning?!"

Both Midori-san's and his head snapped in the voice's direction, their voices taking on a cheerful tone, "Good morning Kacchan!"

Bakugou's eye twitched and he walked over to the kitchen, muttering a quiet 'what the hell' at their synchronization. It was 6 am so their classmates would soon start to come down from their rooms to begin the day. The artificial blonde took note of that fact, already sure that Midori-san had already known before something caught up to him.

"How did he not notice this!?" he vaguely gestured at his bandages, giving the innocent-looking broccoli a withering yet somehow incredulous stare. The only reply he got was an unconcerned shrug.

"Now all you need to do is remove your hair dye and you'll look like your brother more."

Denki's stare turned shocked, his body instinctively trying to jump up but only getting hurt against the tables in the process. Ow, damn, "I did not tell you about that!" that innocent expression's rank just skyrocketed in his list of things that piss him off. But it's kind of cute so it stays intact.

Midoriya looked like he knew exactly what was going through his head at that moment. Broccoli Boy didn't respond, instead cleaning the mess they had made during their beat-up session; typical Yokohama thing, don't worry. 

"What is that?" the younger teenager asked curiously, tracing his finger over the new engravings on the table.

 [ Shadows dance and weep, ]

[ Dark tempests within the soul, ]

[ Echoes of the past. ]

Denki's golden eyes flickered to where the other boy's fingers were tracing. He'd written that on instinct, the last time he had actually taken time to acknowledge the words had been years ago. The fact that he does now is kind of concerning, it gives him a bad feeling, "Something I came up with as a kid. It has the same name as... " he probably shouldn't mention the fact that he has an ability, but Midori-san was a certified Yokohaman, "...my ability: Stormbringer."

"You came up with that as a child?"

Internally relieved to only have gotten a hum of understanding in response to what he revealed, he shrugged, "I had a lot of inspiration."

Then they lapsed into a comfortable silence, their previous unnoticeably tense atmosphere of clashing mental defences dissipating just enough not to be overly wary. The lingering caution wasn't uncomfortable, so they didn't mind.

"Good morning, Todoroki-kun!"

The blonde spared the newcomer a glance until he felt his body react according to the image he'd painted of himself. He saw Midoriya do the same.

-----------------

Something was about to happen, it wasn't bad necessarily--at least not at the moment--but it felt like things were about to change.

"Settle down problem children. Principal Nezu thought it would be a good idea to get a teaching assistant after what already happened this year," Aizawa turned to the door, looking even more tired than usual, "Get in."

A familiar silver-haired teenager stepped into the room, a bag slung over his shoulder and haircut still as bad as before.

"Atsushi Nakajima will be assisting this class for the rest of the semester until further notice."

Well, this was interesting. And totally not incredibly risky.

-----------------

Denki was glad he wasn't sitting anywhere near Midori-san. He was sure the shortie would've strangled him if he was.

At least he had a general idea why; the sentiment was shared after all.

Midoriya's childhood friend--he was pretty sure his name was Atsushi--was now in their class, disregarding that wasn't going to be there all of the time. All of that spelled trouble; three ability users in one class, in the hero course of the most famous hero school? Scratch those worries, something was definitely up.

Why couldn't he go one year without constant trouble?

____

The day passed by in a blur, as always. He only remembered bits and pieces informative enough to know what had happened during the day. The exceptions were this morning, the start of class and lunch when Midori-san gave him an--albeit extremely dark, so dark their classmates should've noticed--intense look that screamed urgency. He guessed Broccoli wanted to meet up.

How he figured that out he didn't know and honestly didn't care.

-----------------

Izuku was freaking out.

He didn't mind Atsushi being at UA, no, that wasn't it. Or maybe it was actually, just not in a personal way.

The problem was the abrupt increase of ability users within the school, heck, the area considering the 'teaching assistants' probably didn't come by themselves. 

He let out a long and exhausted sigh, getting a few weird looks from the heroes in training.

The other problem; his mask was slipping.

Since this morning, the psychological mask he'd built for himself had started cracking, revealing his real self. If it was put that way, it didn't worry him much but if we thought about how it would affect both his ability and quirk, it was a giant problem.

If he let down the mental barriers surrounding his ability, there was a high chance it would consume One-for-All before he could pass it down. He wasn't worried about losing his quirk per se, rather, he was worried about how others with actual brains would react.

If, after saying it developed around ten years later than it should, he suddenly lost he lost his quirk for no apparent reason. it would be extremely suspicious to more observant people. Even those who knew about OFA would ask questions since that quirk wasn't something that just up and vanished.

Now to find Atsushi.

____

Was the world kidding him right now? Four!?

"Izuku!"

Izuku gave a smile, trying to suppress his growing ire. The fourth ability user was Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, class 1-C's teaching assistant, or more accurately, the Port Mafia's Rabid Dog. He wasn't one to judge his friend's tastes but this just made the current situation even more suspicious.

His train of thought did not make him miss the way the emo mafioso's eyes examined him with skepticism. Rude much.

"Did you need anything?"

He had to admit he much preferred that type of straightforwardness compared to anything else though.

"Yes, actually," Izuku motioned for the pair to follow him in the hallway to the 1-A Alliance dorms; they were empty right now.

-----------------

Denki didn't get why they had to meet up in his room, but he already knew he didn't have a say in this. Which sucked, by the way.

"So in total there are eight ability users in the area; 5 in this school, 2 living nearby, and one supposedly collaborating with the league?"

He groaned and flopped onto his bed. This was just getting more complicated by the minute and it's only been a day so far! But when he thought about that statement for a little moment more, he found a part of it weird, "Five?"

Midori-san nodded, "Yeah, five." He didn't elaborate, nor did he look like he would soon. Ugh, now Denki is getting flashbacks to his brother. Broccoli better not turn out like him.

"What is this impending shitshow?" he grumbled under his breath, tuning everything else out.