A/N: I'm cross-posting this here because I actually have an idea what I want to do with it (you can find more stories of mine on AO3 - same name there. I'm just as much of a mess on there as here, only gayer). No worries about my other fics though, they're still being written. I just... am pretty terrible at focusing on a single stories.

Erasermic is going to be mentioned. However, it isn't really important for the story. I just built it in because my bisexual brain clings onto that ship. Otherwise, this story'll be gen.

You can find me on tumblr btw: mindfogerased

Have fun, kids

Izuku still can't quite believe that this is happening right now. In front of him the gigantic building that is the main part of UA High towers mighty into the sky; so far into the clouds in fact that he has to crane his head when he wants to look at the whole thing. God, this really is actually somehow happening. His knees shiver when he tentatively walks towards the entrance.

He hasn't thought he'd pass in all honesty. When the exam was announced, he'd immediately thought to himself: "Well, fuck." As a rule, no weapons (apart from already illegal ones) were prohibited from being used against robots, sure, but a baseball bat and a frying pan can only do so much. To be frank, it was astounding that Izuku had even managed to gather eighteen combat points before his weapons completely gave up on him. Then his helper syndrome had kicked in after a round of excessive mental language expression.

And well... if there's one thing Midoriya Izuku is good at it's poking his head into other people's businesses. Thus, the fifteen year old had managed to obtain sixty rescue points, rocketing his score up to whopping seventy-eight points in total. Not only has he landed himself a place in UA – his dream school, the one he's wanted to be enrolled at ever since he'd first learnt about it when he was nine – no, he also completely blew up his own expectations and came out of that exam in first place.

Izuku draws in a deep breath and steadies himself before he enters the facility. Promptly he finds himself lost but after asking Present Mic (oh damn, it's really THE pro hero himself!) where his classroom is located, Izuku soon spots the huge ass metal door with the stylized font depicting 1-A on it. That's it – In this room are going to be all of his future classmates. He hopes they aren't going to be ignoring him like the ones in middle school. Albeit it's considerably better to be ignored than to be hated, the teenager muses.

Well, there goes nothing!

After opening the door, Izuku can't help but wish he could just go back to not knowing what his classmates are like. The first thing he notices is a girl who rubs herself against four boys at the same time. Okay...? Then there are five guys who are already trying to tear each other's heads off, which is not something he'd ever thought to find at a hero school on the very first day.

A girl with vacant eyes doodles on school property and next to her another one nervously keeps biting her bottom lip while looking around in fear. Both of them have black hair and look fairly similar to each other. Maybe they're twins.

Some students are fixated on their phones. They didn't look up when he came in and...

"You're in the way, loser!" Oh, wow, the blackboard doesn't taste too well. Izuku steps away from said board and hastily swipes chalk away from his mouth. He turns to see two boys (one who has pushed him pretty harshly – the one with the big hands most likely) and a girl with bushy grey tail trot into the room. They don't spare him or any of the others a single glance and plop down on three unoccupied seats.

Izuku feels the hairs on his neck rise and focuses on the door again where, to his utter confusion, a man in a sleeping bag watches the scene with the most "I'm done" mimic he's ever seen. Midoriya throws a glance at the clock. Five minutes until their teacher should arrive. Perhaps this man is the teacher. He decides to don him a respectful nod and try to solve some of the... problems he sees. As mentioned previously: Izuku likes to stumble into people's businesses.

First of all, he goes to the five guys who are still fighting. "I'm sorry?" he asks, as polite as he can. Two muster him and, apparently, don't think he should be noticed at all. Another one, however, one with blue skin and shrill neon orange hair doesn't like Izuku's input – doesn't matter how small it is – and growls: "Who do you think you are, shrimp?!"

Rude. Izuku has grown a bit over the holidays. The green haired boy replies: "I'm Midoriya Izuku... and I'm pretty sure about it. So, you know, I'm not just thinking I'm Midoriya Izuku. I know for a fact that I am."

"Oho" says a boy with dog ears, "That's rich. Motherfucker thinks he's a smartass, doesn't he?"

"Heh, yeah, smartass." another one, this time someone who seems to be half-melted parrots dumbly and immediately breaks out laughing afterwards.

Izuku doesn't quite know what to say to that. Honestly, if it weren't for the caterpillar man deciding to roll into the classroom, he would have probably just silently walked away. He's not one to judge easily but he can tell those five wouldn't listen to any form of reasoning.

Caterpillar man, however, does decide to roll into the room and a quick check at the clock affirms Midoriya's suspicion – it's their homeroom teacher.

"I'm Aizawa Shou..." he halts when he picks up on the faint squeaking noise near the teacher's desk. He sheathes the sleeping bag from his body and tendrils of capture cloth pick up one of the twins. It's the girl who's been drawing little flowers with permanent marker onto random wooden surfaces.

Her vacant eyes suddenly fill with life when the teacher sends a literal death glare to the other twin. "Ryokin Roru, quirk: Control. Why do you make your sister violate school rules?"

The permanent marker slips out of the captured girl's fingers. Izuku can tell she's truly shocked at the revelation and throws an accusing glance at Roru. Said girl grits her teeth in anger. "I don't want to have Setsu in my class. It's my dream, you hear?! Mine! She doesn't have the right to become famous like me!"

Izuku's half-melted classmate, who stands next to him, begins snickering under his breath at the dramatic scene.

Aizawa-sensei rubs his nose bridge, letting his quirk ("Oh my god, we have Eraserhead as our homeroom teacher!" Izuku internally squeals.) fade and levels Roru with a Bitch-Are-You-For-Real gaze. Then he sighs and states in the most dead-pan voice Izuku has ever heard: "You don't have the right to become famous if you go around abusing your quirk. Also, you're expelled."

"I'm what?! You can't do that, it's literally the first day! You didn't even see what I can do with my quirk!" the girl roars, every bit of her nervous exterior vanishing in less than a second after their teacher's exclamation.

"I can, I will and I've seen enough. Now, get out."

Thus, there the first student goes, leaving the classroom in a state of rage and despair. The second one is quick to follow and surprises Izuku a bit. Ryokin Setsu, awfully quiet and obviously holding back tears, is gently placed on the floor, capture weapon falling limp onto Aizawa-sensei's shoulders. Setsu bites her lip and takes Roru's and her bags. She turns to Eraserhead and bows, saying: "I'm deeply sorry for causing such an inconvenience but... I actually just wanted to become a hero to support my sister."

Another sigh forces itself out of Aizawa's mouth. "Alright. Please go to the secretary to sign out of your enrolment. Anyone else want to quit right now?" The rest of the class shakes their heads in disagreement.

"Good" Aizawa-sensei continues when Setsu's out of the room, "As I was saying: My name is Aizawa Shouta and I'm your homeroom teacher. Wear these" he throws UA sport uniforms onto the desk, "and then we'll evaluate your skills outside."

"Skills?" Izuku thinks, confused at the choice of words. Normally, any other teacher would have probably called it a quirk test. In UA, just as in every other hero school, pupils are required to have their quirks considered by grown heroes before tuition begins. He's read that in a magazine interview about Shiketsu. (Actually, he'd bought the thing for the four page long article on Sir Nighteye who was a huge influence in little seven year old Midoriya's life.) So why would their homeroom teacher call it a "skill evaluation"? Is it because of him? Or maybe, perhaps –

"Quit muttering, you freak!" hisses the blue-skinned boy who coincidentally stands next to him in the changing room. Izuku shuts up, feeling his cheeks heat up. This verbal tick of his is such a nuisance sometimes!

"Haha, yeah, you freak!" laughs Mister Half-Melt, elbowing Izuku (admittedly rather gently) in his naked ribs. Izuku wonders what he did to deserve seemingly yet another three years of general dislike. Is it his hair, his plain looks... the muttering perhaps? His interference earlier? He honestly doesn't see the reason why. They don't know he's quirkless yet so that can't be it.

He changes quickly, for a few seconds he's relieved no-one's staring at the blueish-yellow mottled parts of his skin – a result of having weekly parcours, martial arts and football training – and trots out of the locker and onto the field. Izuku's the first one, standing quite unsure next to his teacher who grows more and more done as time progresses.

Where the hell are his classmates? Like... he'd have understood if there were even a steady trickle of incomers but nobody – neither girl nor boy – appears for quite a while. Aizawa-sensei motions him to stay put and walks towards the changing rooms.

In the meantime, without an awkward air between teacher and student, Izuku looks around the facility in awe. This is UA and one can sure see it. The largeness of this single field alone makes the teen jittery with enthusiasm. He's finally able to put actions behind his dreams and words! And with Eraserhead as his sensei – a hero who has to rely on his own physical prowess in fights – he feels so ready to start.

Izuku's grin is small and just large enough for it to even count as such as he paces leisurely back and forth, enjoying the wind ruffling gently through his hair.

Aizawa-sensei comes back with exactly seven pupils. Izuku neither sees the girl who's rubbed herself on the boys nor said boys nor the five guys who were involved in the fight when he entered 1-A's classroom. Alright? The smile slips off his face as he analyzes the situation. Has Aizawa-sensei expelled all of them? But... isn't that a bit harsh? Well, Aizawa-sensei probably has his reasons. He'd just like to actually know them, is all.

"We are here for a skill evaluation. It's skill evaluation and not quirk evaluation due to the fact that one of you doesn't have a quirk –"

"What?!" the girl with the bushy tail gasps and a disgusted look flashes over her pretty features, "How can a freak like that be admitted into UA?!" Izuku inwardly recoils at her insulting tone. He swallows down the need to justify his presence. The first and only time he's tried to do that hadn't ended well.

The scraggly man's eyes lie on her instantly. In a calm voice he asks: "Can you explain your dislike for quirkless people?"

Confusion spreads over the girl's visage. This way, she seems really cute in Izuku's humble opinion. "They're not even people, honestly." Oh, okay, ouch.

"Ah." Eraserhead nods, "Is there anyone else who thinks like that? I just want to know – maybe I can do something about your discomfort. Raise your hand if you think quirkless means worthless."

Tears slowly gather in Izuku's eyes when every single remaining classmate of his raises their arms. Is he really so revolting? He'd thought... he'd really thought...

"Good, then let me tell you something. This boy here" Aizawa-sensei points at Izuku who wants to sink into the floor, "is said quirkless student. His name is Midoriya Izuku and he scored first at the entrance exam in both written and physical tests. He's more cut-out to become a hero than any of you at this moment despite being quirkless. If I hadn't seen an underage student stripping today, I would maybe be more lenient and consider it done with a sincere apology to Midoriya and a well-done performance. I'm beyond that, however, and I can honestly say that you all, apart from Midoriya, are a disgrace to this school."

Silence hangs in the air, only broken by Izuku's choked-back sob. No teacher has ever said something so nice to him. They usually tend to either ignore or just kinda accept him for his good grades but this... this is faith. Aizawa-sensei, Eraserhead, has faith in him. It's good to know how what that feels like but surely, the boy can't have read the message between the lines correctly. If so –

"Yes, that means you're all expelled except for Midoriya. Leave the track suits in the lockers."

"You can't do that! You tricked us!" a black-haired boy yells angrily, baring his teeth.

"What can I say?" the teacher shrugs before a truly terrifying grin splits his lips and widens his bloodshot sclera, "It was a logical ruse."

After that, not many more dare to argue. Izuku wonders if Aizawa-sensei knows how unhinged that smirk of his is. He watches fascinated as the last seven of his classmates retreat with minimal grumbling and maximal wrath. Weirdly enough, a mathematical equation appears in Izuku's mind; something along the lines of exponential decrease of vocal displeasure with the steady increase of anger.

When the not-anymore-students are gone from his sight, Aizawa-sensei lets out a sigh. "I'm so going to get parent complaints. Midoriya, here's a ball. Throw it. We're still having that evaluation."

A softball is given to Izuku. He does as instructed because he doesn't want to be expelled for dumbly staring at his homeroom teacher. With all of his upper body strength, the freckled teenager sends the ball hurling.

"Seventy-five metres. Good, now sprint."

In the sprint fraction, Izuku achieves 5.7 seconds, 71 kg in the grip test, 2.3 metres in the long jump, sidesteps 84 times in a minute and, last but not least, can last nearly six minutes in the endurance test until he drops to the ground sweaty and heavily breathing.

"Decent for now. Obviously, we'll train towards raising your scores, Plus Ultra and all. For now, you've done a good job. Get changed and I'll give you the lesson plan. Oh, and Midoriya?" Izuku feels goose bumps on his neck before he turns his head to his teacher who has adopted that crazed grin again, "Welcome to class 1-A."

Should a greeting sound that much like a threat?