Chapter Text
If there was one thing the principal of Ketsubutsu was expecting, it was not a phone call from All Might in the middle of the night. Ketsubutsu’s principal, Tojo Akari, was a diligent but kind woman who cared for her students like they were her own kids; she loved watching them grow into fine young heroes and she cried at every graduation.
But she’d worked late and had ended up well into the night before she locked up the school and left for the day. She had been on her way out to her car when her phone rang, and the caller ID read as ‘Yagi Toshinori.’ Her eyes went wide - what in the world had All Might called her for?
“Hello? Tojo Akari speaking, how can I help you?” She asked, trying her best not to sound nervous. Usually if a bigger hero called her for something, it was because one of their students had done something they weren’t supposed to. She hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Ms. Tojo! I’m glad you answered. I have a very sudden favor to ask of you. Something happened today at U.A, and I believe you’d best hear about it before the news picks up on it.” Yagi explained, and Akari blinked. Something happened?
“Well, what seems to be the problem? Why wouldn’t Principal Nedzu reach out regarding issues with the school?” She asked curiously. She heard the man sigh, clearly annoyed, on the other end of the line. He grumbled something to himself before speaking.
“Because he’s made a foolish mistake. You see…” And Yagi explained the situation in detail; from Midoriya Izuku’s wrongful expulsion to his class’s insistence on following him. She could hardly believe her ears. Had Nedzu’s pride finally overrode his common sense? Getting a detective he knew personally that could easily verify the truth seemed like the easiest solution in the world, yet he’d expelled a student based on nothing more than a notebook or two.
“And you said the entire class plans on withdrawing tomorrow?” She asked.
“Yes, and that’s where my favor comes in. I wish to find these kids a place at another hero school. I know Ketsubutsu emphasizes trust and communication in their students, and I had hoped you would be willing to consider taking on another class. These kids are good students and they want to stick together. What’s more heroic than that?” He said, fondness in his tone.
“You don’t even have to ask. Of course I’ll take them on! I’ll have to find a teacher willing to add another course to their workload, but this is an opportunity. Not to sound crass or anything, but Ketsubutsu taking on the infamous Class 1-A would boost our reputation considerably. And of course, I’d want to give the kids a chance to build trust with their teachers again.” She explained. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she wouldn’t waste it.
“Perfect, thank you so much. If there’s anything you need from me, please let me know. I’ve got to finish getting the rest of the kids’ withdrawl forms signed, but I wanted to at least get the ball rolling on their re-enrollment.” Yagi said. “Ah! And one more thing; there are two students joining not in the heroics course. Shinsou Hitoshi, a student who was training to transfer into the heroics course under Eraserhead, only now he’ll be following Midoriya as well. And Hatsume Mei, a bright and talented support course student. Would it be possible to include them as well?”
“Consider it done. I remember Shinsou from the sports festival. Wasted potential from an entrance exam that uses robots. He’ll have a place with 1-A when he joins. Well, they’ll be 1-C here, but the point still stands.” Akari chuckled.
“Wonderful! I’m beyond thrilled to let the students know. Thank you so much for being willing on such short notice.” He said, sounding genuinely pleased.
“Of course! Now, I’ve got to go draw up paperwork and preparations. I’ll have them signed up with Ketsubutsu by the end of the week. Can you have somebody pick up ID badges and uniforms for them when I have them ready? My, there’s so much to be done…” Akari muttered, picking up her things and beginning to head back inside the building.
“I’d be happy to pick anything up myself, you just let me know what’s needed. I know there’s a lot of paperwork to be filled.”
Emi yawned. Somebody was calling her right now? She was taking a nap before her late-night patrol! She grumbled and looked at her phone, but then woke up nearly instantly when she realized it was the principal. What was Tojo calling about this late?
“Hello, Ms. Joke speaking! How can I help you, Principal?” she asked, sounding chipper though she’d just woken up.
“Hello Fukukado-san, I have a rather sudden question to ask you. How do you feel about taking on a homeroom class? I know you only teach hero ethics and PR basics right now, but I’ve had an opportunity fall into my lap I don’t want to waste.” Tojo explained. Emi froze, not knowing how to react to that. A homeroom class?
“Do you mind me asking why before I agree to something so suddenly, Principal Tojo?” She asked, hoping for the best. Tojo just laughed.
“Of course! Are you familiar with U.A High’s Class 1-A? You encountered them while you supervised the third-years’ Licensing Exam, didn’t you?” Tojo asked in return.
“Yeah! That’s Eraser’s class! What about them?” She grinned, excited to hear news of an old colleague. As much as she jokingly flirted and asked for dates, she knew he wasn’t actually interested. She really only saw him as a friend.
“Well… they’re all withdrawing from U.A.” And the principal went on to explain the situation as it had been explained to her, and Emi was in disbelief. Eraser had really gone along with Nedzu so blindly…?
“And you’re taking them on, I’m guessing?” She asked.
“Exactly right. And you’re the only one who can realistically fit in an entire homeroom into their teaching schedule. I’ll hire another teacher short-notice if I have to, but it would be easier if you’d agree. Besides, you’re good with kids that have trust issues. I suspect they’ll have a few.” Tojo explained. Emi hummed thoughtfully.
“Alright, I’ll teach them.”
When Nemuri woke up that morning, the last thing she was expecting to see was an entire class marching out of their homeroom. She’d been delivering some papers to another teacher, and she saw 1-A’s entire student body walk out of the classroom with their things. When she walked by the door, she saw Shouta sitting with his head in his hands.
What was going on?
She was about to head in and ask, but then the intercom came on.
“Will all teachers please gather in the conference room for an emergency meeting? Please leave your classes to their respective representatives for the time being.”
What…? She heard Shouta get up angrily, and it looked like he had tears in his eyes. Okay, now she was genuinely concerned. What in the world had happened? She quickly made her way to the conference room, where there were other teachers arriving as well, looking just as confused. They all entered, including Recovery Girl and Hound Dog. The only one missing was All Might.
“Is Yagi-san running late today?” Cementoss was the first to ask. The silence in the room was tense and nearly suffocating in its intensity.
“It appears… I have made a mistake. A rather grave one that I fear may have far reaching implications for U.A as a whole.” Nedzu murmured, and Nemuri felt her blood run cold. She had a horrible feeling, and she didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Yesterday, I had a conversation with Midoriya Izuku regarding notebooks he has been cultivating during his time at U.A. Other students expressed concern over them last week, so I decided to look into them.”
Oh. Oh no. She didn’t like where this was going at all.
“Right,” Yagi had said, his tone almost angry. She had regretted asking him, because it spoke of implications she didn’t like. “Just kids talking.”
And those kids had gone to Principal Nedzu about their talking.
“Those notebooks contained some of the most thoroughly devastating hero analysis I have ever read. In fact, as was the largest part that led to my mistake, I believed Midoriya to be incapable of writing something like that as it was on par with my own analysis.” Nedzu continued, and Nemuri had a sinking feeling in her gut that she knew where this was going, now.
“It’s just notes on heroes he likes, being a fanboy and all.” The person closest to him didn’t seem worried about it at all, and he was the former number one hero. He, surely, would know analysis when he saw it. But if he only described it as ‘just notes…’
“And so, after coming across such analysis, I came to the conclusion that it had to have been stolen from my files, as much of it matched.” Nedzu said, his tone unbelievably flat. Nemuri felt her heart lurch in her chest. “And so, believing that, I made the next conclusion that it was highly likely that Midoriya Izuku was a traitor to U.A. Yesterday, I expelled him under that belief.”
The room promptly burst into chaos, but Nemuri was pointedly silent.
She’d seen it, those notebooks. How Midoriya had asked her with a shy smile how her quirk worked and what it was like being a pro. He’d even asked her to autograph a gorgeous portrait of her he’d drawn in that book of his. She thought it was the most flattering thing a student had ever done, and she felt so proud to teach him.
How could the principal just conclude based on notebooks alone that such a kind boy had done the unspeakable to his classmates? And classmates that had become like family, nonetheless. She may joke, but she knew genuine closeness when she saw it. She saw how deeply 1-A cared for each other in the ways they all whispered good morning to each other, how they comforted one another over even the little things, how they all stood together in everything they did.
And now one of their core members, one of their biggest supports, had been expelled.
And if they stood together in everything…
Suddenly, the class walking out made more sense, and she paled at the implication.
“Principal Nedzu!” Hizashi was the first to finally breach through the chaos to be heard. “Did you just expel him without confirming it first?! Didn’t you get Detective Tsukauchi or another police officer to confirm that sort of thing?!”
“No, and that was the other half of my mistake. I believed it to be unnecessary, and that it would bring too much attention. If we had a traitor in our midst, bringing in the police would make it into a spectacle and put a mark upon U.A’s reputation. I also wanted to keep All Might separate from this, seeing how close he is to the boy. I believed his judgement would be biased.”
And that just hit Nemuri where it hurt. That man was the only one Midoriya truly spoke to. He would know better than anybody when it came to him. Nedzu should have included him at the very least, if he didn’t want to involve the police. But instead, Midoriya had gone into Nedzu’s office to be expelled, all alone.
Had he cried? Had he begged not to be expelled? Had he tried to tell Nedzu it wasn’t like that? Nemuri knew how terrified and distrustful he was of teachers and other authority. The thought of Midoriya in tears, all alone against the force that was Nedzu when he had his mind set on something, made her tremble and tears bead in her eyes.
She wanted to apologize to that boy for any way she had ever wronged him.
“You just left him all alone?” She finally managed to ask, and at the choked up tone in her voice, the entire room went silent. They all looked at her with varying expressions. Shouta couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. Did he know? Was he there when it happened? “You expelled that poor boy without any proof or a single person for him to rely on?”
“Yes… and that was my mistake. Because I did not consider that he did have people he relied on. As of this morning… I was informed of my mistake, explained that 1-A watched him write the entries in the notebooks personally and consented to the ones written about them, and then promptly withdrew in solidarity. U.A is now down 22 students, as Shinsou Hitoshi and Hatsume Mei have also joined them.” Nedzu said, and the room was silent still.
That was a death sentence for the school’s reputation. Everyone in the room knew it.
“In addition… All Might has tendered his resignation and will no longer be working here. He wishes to continue supporting 1-A in their endeavors elsewhere. He was less than pleased with my choices regarding Midoriya’s situation.”
“Shouta. You haven’t said one word. I saw your class walk out this morning. Did you know about this? Were you a part of this?” Nemuri asked, tears in her eyes.
“… Yes. I did. And I believed Nedzu because it made too much sense. Midoriya would be the last one anybody expected and… and he was skittish. Defensive. But he always played up being the hero. At least, I thought so… but I was wrong. I was so wrong.” Shouta rasped, his head still in his hands like they’d been glued there. “I said horrible things to that boy. The one time I let my emotions override my logic and I go and do this…”
“I quit.” Nemuri said, standing sharply from her chair. “I can’t believe this is what’s come from U.A. We’re supposed to be the best school in the country, and we treat our students like this? And you don’t even sound sorry about it, Nedzu! You only care about your reputation! Well, I became a teacher to help students, and right now all I feel like is that I have failed Midoriya and 1-A in every possible way. So I will finish out the day and then I quit. I pray Midoriya and the rest of his class forgive me one day, because god knows I won’t forgive you.”
Monoma Neito was a prideful boy, one who had a lot of insecurities but buried them deep down beneath his facade. In reality, he hardly had it in him to hate anybody, even if they were from 1-A. He thought that perhaps because they’d been involved in villain incidents, they might’ve thought themselves as more experienced, but that wasn’t the case at all.
Vlad King had told him not to think like that and explained that at the U.S.J, they had been fighting for their lives. It wasn’t some training simulation. He didn’t fully understand until the training camp, and by then members of 1-A had been involved in two more incidents - Hosu and some shopping mall in Kiyashi Ward.
And by the time the dorms were implemented, he saw just how close that had made 1-A. Even the teachers didn't see everything. After a group study session, Kendo had returned and said what she saw was surprising. 1-A was so comfortable in each other’s spaces that it seemed like they were a family, and she could hardly believe they’d only known each other for just a semester.
Even Bakugou and Midoriya, after that fight the first few nights in the the dorms, had gotten close and started relaxing around each other.
So Neito, being himself, had felt his pride wounded by that statement. He was an acquired taste, as far as personalities went. He admittedly felt bad every time Kendo had to clean up after one of his rants against 1-A. He… wanted to be that close with his own classmates. He was… dare he say it… jealous. So when he heard the whispers start up about those notebooks Midoriya carried around, he had joined in. He’d said things as well that only added fuel to the fire.
All because he was jealous.
And now, Vlad King had come back from his teacher’s meeting with one of the most stricken expressions he’d ever seen. He stood at the front of the classroom, and he bowed. Not just a respectful bow, but a full, apologetic bow in front of his students.
“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing out of his mouth. Before any of his classmates could speak, however, Vlad King stood back up. “If I have ever put you in a position where you have been made uncomfortable or felt like you could not speak with me as your teacher, I want to apologize. Today’s meeting has made me realize I should be doing more for my students, to foster trust between us. I see great heroes in all of you, and I want you to be able to trust me.”
“Sekijirou-sensei, what’s this about?” Tetsutetsu asked, almost nervously.
“Yesterday evening, Midoriya Izuku of 1-A was expelled from U.A based on false accusations. In response, his entire class, as well as two other students, have withdrawn from U.A in support.” He said, and 1-B burst into chaotic chatter. Monoma, however, felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He had helped, hadn’t he?
He’d said those things about Midoriya and his notebooks. Was that why he’d gotten expelled? Over the rumors he helped to start? He hadn’t meant for it to go this far. He was just jealous, he just wanted to knock a 1-A bigshot down a few pegs. And now an entire class was gone because they trusted him enough to follow in his wake.
Suddenly, Monoma felt like he was the furthest thing from a hero in training.
Eri liked mornings. Well, mornings here at U.A, anyways. She woke up with a yawn most days, followed by a big stretch and her routine of brushing her teeth and changing out of her PJs. Her days were spent quietly doing and learning things she didn’t know about before. She liked this sort of routine. But her favorite days of all were ones she got to spend with Mr. Deku.
She really liked Mr. Deku. He had lots of scars like her, even some that nobody else had seen before. She asked how he got his scars, but he just shook his head and said people used not to be very nice to him. She frowned at that.
How could anybody be not nice to Mr. Deku? He was a little funny and very nice, and he always seemed to know what to say to her. He never made her feel bad or pitied her. She could see it, sometimes, when Mr. Aizawa looked at her. He was sad for her, but she didn’t want him to feel sad when she was already sad. Mr. Deku, though, he just looked like he understood. He would listen and nod along with her explanations like he knew exactly what she was feeling.
It was comforting, having somebody who understood.
But this morning, it seemed like a lot was going on. One minute she was in the teacher’s lounge, quietly working on coloring in a page in a book, and the next, the teachers were being called in for a meeting and she was being scooped up by Mr. Mirio. She asked what was going on, but he just said Mr. Aizawa would be busy for a little while and that he had some sad news.
She didn’t like sad news, but she listened anyways.
“So, Eri, you know what school is, right? And you know what students are?” Mirio asked carefully. She nodded, she learned those already. “Well, Deku was a student here. But yesterday, Principal Nedzu expelled him.”
“What’s expelled mean, Mr. Mirio?” She asked, tilting her head. That was a new word.
“Um… well, it’s when a principal or a teacher makes you not a student at that school any more.” He explained. And then Eri’s eyes went wide.
“So… So Mr. Deku isn’t a student any more?” She asked, her eyebrows scrunching up in worry. If he wasn’t a student, how was he going to come and play with her?
“No, Eri, he’s not. And I’m sorry, but he’s not coming back to U.A. He wanted to come and tell you himself, but he didn’t think Mr. Aizawa would let him.” Mirio explained. Tears welled in Eri’s eyes and she sniffled, twisting her hands in her dress and bunching it up.
“Wh-Why would Mr. Aizawa not let him tell me?” She asked, her voice trembling. Mirio looked like he was about to cry too, seeing her cry like that.
“Because, well, Mr. Aizawa and Principal Nedzu thought he did something really bad, but he didn’t, and they didn’t believe him… so they made him leave.” Mirio explained. Eri threw herself into his arms for a hug, and Mirio did his best to comfort her.
“I-I don’t want Mr. Deku to leave!” She cried against his shoulder. “He - He promised he’d teach me new words - and - and make candy apples! Mr. Deku is the best! He can’t leave!”
“I know… I know. I’m sorry, Eri. I didn’t want Deku to leave either. I’m so sorry. But he’s going to a different school now. Maybe I can take you to visit him some time!” Mirio said, trying his best to smile. Eri just shook her head.
“I don’t want to visit… I want Mr. Deku to stay… I-I want to go with Mr. Deku…” She said, her lip wobbling as if she might cry again. Mirio gently patted her head and still held her in that comforting hug, because he didn’t know what else to do.
“I do too. I’m really mad at Principal Nedzu and Mr. Aizawa, but I’ve gotta be brave! That’s what Deku would want, for us to smile and be brave.” He said, gently setting her down when it finally seemed like she was calm enough to be let go.
“I don’t think I want to stay with Mr. Aizawa any more, Mr. Mirio…” Eri huffed, wiping at her eyes. “He made Mr. Deku leave…”
“Oh, Eri… I know Mr. Aizawa made a mistake, but don’t you like staying with him?” Mirio asked softly. Eri clutched the hem of her dress and she shook.
“Mr. Aizawa is… okay… but he’s not as nice as Mr. Deku… Mr. Deku never makes me feel bad… Mr. Aizawa looks at me sometimes and I feel like he’s sad for me. B-But Deku understands! H-He has scars like mine! He’s so nice, Mr. Mirio, he just can’t go!”
And Eri was crying again, and Mirio didn’t know what to do at all.
He felt like Deku would’ve known what to say.
Of all the things Tsukauchi expected to be doing today, interviewing a furious mother and her son was not it. Especially when said mother and son were the Midoriyas, a boy who was like Toshinori’s son and a woman who was the image of a mother bear. But they’d come into the police station early that morning, an expression of motherly anger on Midoriya Inko’s face.
Toshinori came in shortly after, looking just as mad as Inko was, and boy was that a sight. Toshinori didn’t get mad very often, and when he did, it was terrifying.
“Hello there, Naomasa. I have a favor to ask of you, if you’d be so kind.” Toshinori said, although his tone was closer to the kind that said it wasn’t really a favor but a heavily disguised order. Still, the man was his friend, and he’d grant him favors the world over.
“Sure, Toshi. Just tell me what it is you need.” He agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.
“My son was expelled from U.A yesterday under a baseless accusation without a parent or guardian present.” Inko said, straightening her purse on her shoulder. Tsukachi was glad he’d set down his coffee cup, because holy shit, he hadn’t been expecting that at all. “We’d like you to interview my son, on record, regarding his expulsion and the situation surrounding it. I will be suing the school for their treatment of my son and I want this to be used to clear his name.”
“Of course, you’ll have my full cooperation.” Tsukauchi gave a firm nod. “Give me a minute to set up an interview room and I’ll be right with you.”
He had a feeling this was going to be a very long day.