Hey guys! That's me being back with you.

Glad to see the story growing more popular and gaining readers. You are making my grey horrible days of studying so much more fun. You know, I appreciate all your feedback and reviews BUT I just have to single a few of you out. As usual, FoxOnPie is back with some valid points and praise.

And then there are Brayan Mariachi and animefan29. You guys are what I like about readers. You guys are just too smart. You totally saw the things that I was going for when building the world and its mechanics.

Please enjoy!

How would you describe your closest friend?

Usually, it would be something common like 'nice' or 'reliable' or 'fun to be around'. Bit those were the words reserved for the more normal people. Which didn't include one explosive heroine in training.

So how could he describe Bakugou Tatsuki?

Fierce. Uncompromising. Rude. Pig-headed. Hotblooded. Those were the descriptions that came to Mashirao's mind when it came to the fellow instructor. There were a lot of things that could be better about her.

But above everything else, she was a very determined person.

Ever since she stepped inside their dojo, she was dead set in her desire to prove improve herself. He didn't have all the details but it had something to do with some other girl beating her up with martial arts.

And so she trained and practiced, taking in every single piece of advice dad had thrown her way. It wasn't really a surprise when she got the job as one of the instructors alongside him.

Which is why this day felt so strange.

The incident involving her was all over the news, mostly due to the discovery of a Quirk in a boy. And even though her name wasn't mentioned as often as was the boy's, she still gained enough attention from the media due to her part in the villain attack.

The bright camera flashes and paparazzi shouting over one another wasn't as much of a surprise as the annoyance when he opened the dojo. All of them wanted to hear his opinion on Tatsuki. Or rather, they wanted something they could use for more ratings.

Mashirao didn't have a particularly high opinion of today's media. So he felt little guilt about lying to the crew when he said Tatsuki wouldn't be coming. With the reporters gone, Mashirao hoped the day would come to the semblance of normalcy.

"Again!"

He was wrong.

"Again!"

It was a late evening already, most of the students gone and dojo empty safe for the two of them. And whereas usually such situation would promise him nothing but more soreness in muscles and light bruises, today was different.

Fast and strong, her legs and arms raced towards his body. If one of them landed properly, his defence would be broken and he would find himself on the ground. But, as fast and powerful her strikes were, they were anything but precise.

Her motions were disoriented. Unfocused and lost. The fire in her attacks wasn't concentrated or powerful like before. It felt hollow and impotent. As if she kept fighting even though she had already given up.

"Die!" she roared and charged at him. She hit and kicked and punched and pushed. But none of that felt real. As if she was making herself do it. "Just fall already, you motherfu-!"

It had to end.

He ducked under her leg before grasping it into a steel grip. If it were any other day, she would use her lightning fast reflexes to not only break out but also knock him down in one kick.

But today wasn't any other day. And, in a humiliatingly simple move of a sweeping kick, she fell against the floor. The room fell silent, the air strangely growing cold. Did he overdo it? Did he hurt her too much?

"Rematch!"

Of course she was alright. Or, at least, she was determined to seem that way.

Seeing Tatsuki on the mat was unusual. For all two years that she worked here, no one, safe for him, came even close to winning a single sparring against her. She was fierce, fast and very strategic in her approach to martial arts. Her motions were sharp and efficient, not even a step going to waste.

And yet, for the fifth time today, she went down. Mashirao was confident in his abilities. He knew he could give Tatsuki some hard time if they both gave it their all. But he could never defeat her that easily. She was sweating profusely, panting like she was running nonstop for hours, her stance weak and vulnerable.

It wasn't her body that worked against her, however. When they first started, she moved and struck just like she always did. But each time, the very moment she gained the upper hand, something would go wrong. She would stand. She would fight. But just when she had an opportunity to strike him down, her eyes changed.

Determination vanished.

Victorious glint melted away.

And all that was left was fear.

And lingering shadows of trauma.

"Maybe you should rest?"

She scowled. It was the same expression that sent numerous students into cold sweat and made them seek divine protection. But to him, someone who had known her for some time now, it looked strained. More of a shield than a sword. It was her defensive mechanism. Against what, however, he had no idea.

"Maybe you should shut the fuck up and fight?" she hissed and took a stance. "I am not done yet, fucker."

He was struck in the chest. It hurt so much less than he remembered. She pushed him on the defensive with fast kicks and punches. She maneuvered around his own counter-attacks. She was hitting and kicking, faster and stronger.

And then her eyes dulled and glazed over.

Her stance on the ground weakened.

She pulled her fist back ever so slightly.

With one swift kick, he struck her down.

"Shit! Fucking garbage!" she growled and punched the mat.,a small explosion burning a hole in it. She was frustrated. Angered beyond the boiling point. "Hey! Where the fuck are you going?"

Mashirao didn't react much to her swearing at this point. When you heard someone swear like a drunk sailor every time they opened their mouth, you got used to it. He knew that, for all the threats and insult, the girl wouldn't attack him from behind. If only because that was too cowardly and dirty for her. And she hated those things above all.

"Do you want some green tea or coffee?" he asked, looking through the variety of drinks in the vending machine. Tea, coffee, a few juices, and some healthy snacks. He was really happy he was the one who stocked up the machine. "Oh look, we even have jasmine tea here."

He could swear he heard something snap.

"Get fucking over here and fight me!"

Jasmine tea. Got it.

There was little wonder what bothered the hot-headed blonde. The past couple of days must have been quite the test for her with all the media attention on her persona. Some called her a victim. Some saw her at least partially guilty for the destruction. And then there were those that stalked her in vain attempt to get anything about that Midoriya guy.

But those seemed too obvious. Not the kind of things that should have bothered her that much. He could try and pry the secret out of her. But he would rather have her tell him of her free will.

"Here you go," he presented a small can of tea. "Jasmine, just like you asked."

Tatsuki glared at him but accepted the drink anyways. Both of them sat in absolute silence. Mashirao knew better than prying into whatever was going on the exploding girl's mind. She was the kind of person who tended to go further into herself the more someone tried to get into her head.

The best thing he could do was just sit by her side and wait. She would speak for herself when she felt like it.

"I sucked today, didn't I?"

There it was.

"Yes, you did," he answered plainly. There was no uproar or rage. Instead, Tatsuki looked down on the mattress with a complicated expression. For someone so temperamental, she was surprisingly aware of criticism. "You were sloppy and uncertain at the end of each sparring. And you lost your concentration right before delivering the finishing blow."

And she clearly didn't have her head in their match.

"You really know how to cheer someone up, don't you?" she chuckled bitterly. She didn't want pity o sympathy. She didn't want to be cuddled or hugged. She just wanted the truth and objective opinion. And so he always gave just that to her. "Ojiro? Can I ask you something?"

Ojiro? Not a coward? Or a plain face? Not even one expletive? She even used his last name instead of the first one? And her voice sounded so unusually calm. It didn't feel right. Despite himself, he asked, "What is it?"

She didn't look at him, her eyes focused on something away from them. Her fingers dug into a metal can of empty drink, her own inner turmoil showing. With a heavy sigh and eerie calm, she asked:

"Do you think I can be a hero?"

A

Even before she discovered how powerful her Quirk was, she knew that she was above the rest of her peers. She was smarter. She was stronger. She was far more driven than the others too. No matter what she chose, she always found herself ahead of the other kids.

And, of course, such gift always attracted envy and spite. Some kids were brave or stupid enough to pick on her. Some spoke behind her back. And some just tried to glare her to death. A lesser person would crumble and submit to the crowd. But she wasn't one.

She was Tatsuki Bakugou. And she rejected things like doubt and fear. She would do whatever the hell she wanted and either reap the rewards or face whatever consequences her actions brought. She made mistakes. But she never doubted herself.

"What?"

Or at least, it used to be like this. It was funny how little it took to crush her confidence. It was even funnier that she thought herself so high in the first place. She was powerful. She was smart. She was skilled.

But she wasn't the top dog. She barely tasted what real combat was and already was in this sorry state. All her training. All her power. None of it meant shit to that monster. None of her talents or skills stopped the parasite bitch from taking control and going ballistic on the streets of her home city.

In the end, she was just as useless as the pieces for shit she was surrounded with.

"Do you have some fucking hearing problem, you jerkoff?" she growled despite herself. Ojiro wasn't such a bad guy. Much better than some fucking leeches she dealt with. "Do you think I fucking deserve to be a hero or not?"

She felt weak. She was weak. Weak and helpless. That day, for the first time in so many years, she was genuinely afraid. Though she screamed in rage, she knew that deep down inside she was scared.

Scared of what the parasite would do to her and innocent civilians.

Afraid of how little she could do to stop that monster.

Terrified of how little all her power and training meant.

"Tatsuki, I am not sure I understand-"

She scoffed. Of course, he didn't understand. As much as she respected him, he was still just a boy. He would never have to fight villains. Hundreds and thousands of lives would never rest on his shoulders.

"Heroes always win. No matter what happens, heroes are always victorious. If you are weak or simply not strong enough, then you are not a real hero. You are not the hero."

It was simple as that. Fighting spirit? Pure heart? Strength of will? Those worked only in manga and comic books. Nothing more than a cheap Deus Ex Machina trick authors pulled out of their asses when they wrote themselves into a corner.

"You can't be a hero."

This was the real world. And in real world, you couldn't rely on anything but your strength and skills. Power of friendship wouldn't stop collapsing building. Anguished screams of some damsel in distress couldn't bring the dead back to life. And talking to a villain about your feelings didn't magically fix their fucked up heads.

Buildings would collapse on people. The dead would stay dead. And villains would just laugh at your naivety before hurting more people.

Which is why heroes had to be strong.

Without power, heroes would always lose. And a hero losing meant innocent lives gone and ruined.

"That parasite bitch took control of my body like it was nothing, Ojiro. I fought and struggled but that meant shit to her. Do you know what that makes me?" she scowled, blood boiling. She was so angry. At that bitch. At the goddamn press. But, most of all, herself. " That makes me pathetic. A weakling."

The word wasn't unfamiliar to her.

Except she had never been called that herself. It was her who gave background characters this demeaning and humiliating designation. It was them who were supposed to be weak and defenseless.

Not her!

"What kind of hero lets some C-List shitslime control her and wreck the place?" she growled out, the empty can of tea getting blown to pieces. "What kind of hero ever needs saving?"

A useless hero. A weak hero. A pathetic hero.

"I think we both can name a few," Ojiro said calmly, ignoring the ash in the air. "Mind control, brainwashing, possession and other Quirks like that aren't exactly unheard of. Unfortunately, of course, most people born with it would use it for evil rather than good."

And what was a better way than using it on heroes? It wasn't exactly an original idea. When you thought about it, All Might dealt with all kinds of control over her throughout her career as a pro heroine.

But she always came out on top. Some shit hypnotist could take control of her. A bunch of tekepaths could play with her mind. But All Might always persevered. She always won. She would force the parasite out. She would break the hold over her mind. She would do anything to free herself and she would succeed!

Tatsuki didn't. She wasn't strong enough. And people got hurt as a result.

"Something tells me this isn't the only thing bothering you," the damn ape said in his usual calm voice. Seriously, did he have some mind reading Quirk? Deku had one after all. Who said this bastard didn't? "Could it be related to your childhood friend? That Midoriya guy?"

"Childhood pest is more like it," she scoffed. "That damn bastard... Running into the danger like he could do shit... Seriously, what the hell was he thinking?"

"I don't think he was."

Damn right he wasn't! If he was half as smart as everyone thought, he wouldn't do any of that shit. If he actually knew what he was going to do, he would stay behind and not get in the danger's way. But that little shit decided to pull one of the dumbest and riskiest stunts as if it was a walk in the park.

"He is weak, Ojiro. He has always been weak. His sudden Quirk aside, he has zero experience in fighting. His physical strength is also fucking pathetic," she stated simply, with a hint of disgust clear in her voice. If that little fucker wanted to be a hero so fucking much, then he should have trained his ass off!" He almost got himself killed! No, he actually got killed. He was killed by-!"

... by her.

"I killed him... with my own hands."

She murdered Deku.

Whatever degree of control that bitch parasite had over her, she was still responsible no matter how remotely. The boy she had known her entire life was dead. Because she was fucking weak.

"So that's what is bothering you?" Ojiro asked, his tone giving off the slightest hint of amusement. She would neat it out of him after he explained what he meant. "It isn't just about you being powerless. It is about you being unable to save that boy."

Of course she was worried about him. As shitty that little bastard was, he didn't deserve to die. Not by her hand. Or anyone else's at that. He was a nerd. A little bitch. But he wasn't horrible enough to be blown into pieces. He didn't deserve to be...

Scorched alive. Burned to the crisp. Roasted till his skin turned black and bones cracked.

"Tatsuki?"

That sickening image resurfaced in her mind. The street was burning, ruins and debris falling over and crumbling. People screaming somewhere away for help. The obnoxious cackling and laughter full of twisted enjoyment that rang in the air.

And there was the smell.

The smell of scorched meat and burnt hair. Sickening. Disgusting. Unnerving.

"Tatsuki? You okay?"

All sounds died and suddenly fires and ruins were the least of her concerns.

"Tatsuki... Why...?"

Black and red. Among the grey of the ground and orange of flames, these two colors stood out to her the most. If only because of how little the body resembled Deku she remembered. Goes were the green hair and pale skin. His clothes were molten and mixed together into his black and red flesh. His flesh was all but falling from his charred bones. And his face...

It screamed of fear. Destroyed and mangled, the final expression on his face was that of absolute terror and despair.

The imagery that was haunting her ever since that day.

"I can still see it, you know. I can still see what I had done to him."

Every single night she woke up in cold sweat. Every single night she watched the same thing happen again and again. Her killing that damn idiot over and over. But as more nights passed, the less of the parasite was in her dreams.

And it was just her. Not possessed by a monster. No longer controlled by the parasite. But just her own self. Of her own will and desire, she was there.

Tormenting him. Hurting him. Killing him.

Over and over until it was her begging for the nightmares to stop. Until it was her crying and begging someone for help. Help that never came until it was too late. And as those nightmares continued, she kept asking herself one very important question.

"How can I be a hero if I can't keep even one idiot safe?" she whispered in weak and lost tone. "How can I be a hero if I am so weak?"

The silence to her question was never more deafeaning.

A

Shiketsu High

U.A. Academy

Power Group

Eien Gakuen

Renjiro Institution

Each of the five schools accepted hundreds of students each year. Thanks to the ties to the major support companies and the Department of Superhuman Affairs, the schools were always equipped with the best tech and gear on the market. By the time the students graduated, all of them had their entire lives planned out with sponsorship and endorsement deals awaiting them.

With only roughly thirty-five percent of the population applying for the career in this particular field, each and every student in the Department of Heroics was given any opportunity to develop their abilities to their fullest.

Anyone would kill for a chance like this.

And now Izuku had one handed to him just like that. No exam. No test. Full scholarship all the way until graduation. His own room in the dorm. Even the private training sessions with the members of the faculty!

The offer which extended to all five schools. If it was under any other circumstances, Izuku would be beyond himself from happiness. But he wasn't. He couldn't make himself feel happy once he got the full story.

Neither his parents nor Izuku himself had the right to refuse. He could pick any of the five schools but he still had to choose one of them. No other options. No compromise.

Izuku knew he was naive. But sure wasn't oblivious. As Shimura-san kept listing and explaining all the conditions he would now live in, the picture seemed less and less like his dream school and more like a prison.

Single room provided more space for constant surveillance and monitoring. Private training sessions were specifically made to keep track of his powers. She didn't say anything on what would happen if he lost control. But the implications... The subtle hints of how far they would go if his powers threatened others? They were there.

As for his parents, both of them would be placed under the same protection program that most professional heroines used for their families. Quite unfortunately, that also meant that their contact with Izuku would become very limited until the situation became less volatile.

The news was enough to drive mom to tears. What hurt her even more was that all of them had no other choice. No matter how harsh the idea sounded, it was only way that would guarantee their safety if only relatively.

There was nothing they could do about his identity as the first superpowered male going public.

The Department of Superhuman Affairs tried their best to keep things out of escalating but they weren't fast enough. Whatever footage they tried to retrieve would always float back to the surface. By this time, trying to deny his existence or powers was futile.

Whether they liked it or not, they were out in the open with targets painted on their backs.

"Midoriya-kun, are you okay?"

"Huh?"

He blinked, once again aware of the place around himself. He stayed in the hospital room for the past couple of days but still had hard time adjusting to it. Not as much because of the unfamiliarity as because of all the things going on.

"Still thinking about All Might's words?" Recovery Girl asked as the nurse placed a tray with dinner next to him. The retired heroine took a single look at the half-eaten plate from lunch and sighed. "You know, malnutrition never helped people with their problems. You should eat."

He didn't have anything to say. He never really had much of an appetite, his diet mostly consisting of either traditional food or some snacks from the convenience store. The events of the past few days didn't do any wonders to his dietary habits either.

After a few minutes of silence and half-hearted bites of rice and fish, Izuku looked up at the healer heroine and asked, "Will it always be like that?"

He used to dream of becoming a hero. He still did. But now that the reality of being the first and the only boy with powers was catching up, he found himself doubting that wish. Was it really worth it? Was him attending a hero school really worth them hiding in fear of some criminals?

"I am afraid so. Even if it won't be, you and your family will still spend years having to look over your shoulder," Recovery Girl said as she took a sip of her tea. "The heroics was never an easy profession. Even if most criminal syndicates were outmatched because of the lack of women in their ranks during the Golden Age, they still were cunning enough to hurt heroines and their loves ones."

Oh right, the Golden Age of Heroes.

The first decades since the emergence of Quirks were known for their simplicity and yet general confusion. There was no system. Heroes - then known more as vigilantes - spent most of their time going after yakuza syndicates or other organized crime groups. Crumbling and falling apart, the criminal organisations suffered even further decay during the subsequent Silver Age.

And while the majority managed to recover some of their influence and resources during the Bronze and Dark ages, they still were nowhere near the same level of power as before. Especially since the arrival of All Might.

"And now that they know about you, there is very little they won't do to have their hands on you," the medic said with a sad smile. "I know what you must be going through right now. You are worried... About your parents. About yourself. And us dumping so much on you doesn't really help, does it?"

No. No, it didn't.

"So what do you suggest?" he asked hopefully. "What do I do?"

"I wish I could say answer that, my boy,. But life never has easy answers. For any of us. You can just attend the school. None of the teachers really expect you to become a hero. Their main priority is to make sure you learn to control your power after all. So you could learn just that and move on with your life. You would always have heroes to bodyguard you so you would be safe."

Mom and dad would definitely prefer this option. Just get his powers under control and live a normal life. No heroics. No danger. Just peaceful life.

And yet...

It didn't make him happy. Just like before, the thought made him feel hollow and filled him with dread.

"Or you could change something," Recovery Girl smiled. "You have the rare opportunity to inspire others, Midoriya-kun. You are the first boy in the world with such power. Whatever choice you make, you will affect people's lives. You can be the inspiration for so many people out there. People like you."

Inspire people? Like a hero?

"Do you think I can do that?" he asked with the sight. "Because I just can't see it."

All these years, he just stood and took whatever abuse or insult his classmates threw at him. And just a week or so ago, he gave up on his dream of ever becoming a hero. Even his idol said so.

And she thought he could inspire someone?

"I don't see it either."

What? Then how did she expect him to inspire other people?

"But nobody saw that in All Might back then," his eyes widened at the statement. But that didn't sound right. Everyone loved and trusted in the top heroine. Seeing his reaction, Recovery Girl only chuckled. "Media people hate to admit when they are wrong. So it is no surprise they try not to bring up their past statements on All Might. Back then, they used to laugh at her 'Symbol of Hope'. They used to say that no hero or even a group of heroes could change so much."

She grew quiet, eyes gazing off some other place or time.

"Needless to say, she proved them wrong. It wasn't instant or even fast. It took her years of constant work and hundreds of thousands lives saved. She spent every moment she had to help people, from saving cats stuck on trees to stopping disasters and villains."

It sounded so big. So much bigger than what he could possibly do in his entire life. But why?

"Why did she do all of this?"

What could have possibly pushed her to do so much?

"What do you think?" Recovery Girl gave him a small yet somewhat sad smile. "You should ask yourself this question, Midoriya-kun: Why would you do any of this?"

And with that question, the retired heroine left the room.

He wouldn't get any visitors tonight. Mom and dad were probably still busy with all the details regarding their near future. Which meant that he had all the time for himself.

All the time to make the choice. Not just between the five schools. But the choice for himself.

Whether he would settle on learning the control of his powers and then living a normal peaceful life. If he picked this one, he would be safe. He would always have heroes to fight for him and protect him. But he would feel unfulfilled. Always a load. Always someone's problem.

Or he could become one himself. His life would always be in danger. His family would become even more of a target. Him knowing how to use his powers would also draw concern and attention of the people in power. He would become a potential threat. Possibly, even a liability.

There was no going back from either of choices.

He took a long look at his past.

The kid with a dream too big to become a reality. The bullied outcast of the class. And now the world-known anomaly.

And then he took a brief look at what he could become.

A Hero.

He took a deep breath in and picked up his phone and dialed the number.

The choice was made.

A

Aizawa Shouta wasn't a hero.

And he wasn't their avid supporter either.

They were useful,there was no doubt about that. Thanks to the heroes all over the world, millions of lives were saved and tragedies were averted. But none of that changed his mind on how dangerous their heroes could become.

Superpowered beings were threats. In his entire career, he saw things some of them were capable of. Superstrength? Speed? Shooting ice and moving earth? Those were barely scratching the surface of how powerful Quirks could be.

How terrifying their users could become.

How little the government could or would actually do if a hero was too powerful, too famous or simply too important. The amount of heroes was limited. The number of the useful ones was even smaller.

It wasn't too long before it became clear that, if nothing was done, soon heroes would ask what could possibly stop them from doing what they wanted. And finding out that, indeed, there was no such thing as limit for them.

Which is why they existed.

The Tribunal was the organisation created shortly after the first superhuman attempt at overthrowing the government in Middle East. They were the public knowledge and yet made sure that none of the crucial information about them was known.

After all, while the public considered them just another way to support and aid heroes, both sides knew what exactly they were.

Contingency measure.

They took every weapon they could get hands on. They spent years training and planning. Creating containment procedures and strategies against both supervillains and superheroes alike. All just in case their heroes turned on them.

And now they had another problem to deal with. Namely, one unremarkable boy who just got in too deep with things he was too young to understand.

"Yes, I understand," he answered calmly into the phone. "Yes, I will keep an eye on him."

There were no more orders regarding the boy. But the implications and hints were there. Like many agents, he was placed into the school to keep an eye on both students and teachers. Unlike them though, he would need to keep track of the first male hero in history.

And eliminate him if he proved to be dangerous.

And that's it!

I will be honest, I am not entirely happy with the chapter. Originally, it had like 7K+ words but stuff just kept piling on and on in it so it had to cut it down. Any feedback on the length and content of the chapter is welcome.

As for the BNHA lore in this AU:

Yes. Aizawa is still a guy and works for as part of the SHIELD equivalent. The relationship between heroes and the organisation will be explored later on. For now, let's just say that both sides neither like nor trust each other very much.

Now, a couple of announcements:

1) Among other characters who are still guys, those include Ojiro, Rikidou, Mineta, Iida, Kouda and Shouji. I am almost done with the list of characters who will replace them in Class 1-A but any suggestions are welcome!

2) There is one spot for an OC. I am pretty sure all of you know how to fill in the form for one. So do you Best! PLUS ULTRA!

3) ALSO I am still deciding on whether or not to have this as a harem story. So any input is very valuable to me.

TILL NEXT UPDATE!