YEAR 2, SEPTEMBER

Izuku was sweating. Like, advanced sweating. Sweating so much that he regretted making his hero costume a one piece jumpsuit because he knew he would just be stewing in stress sweat the second he changed and the exam started and there was nothing he could do about it. Shindo noticed, but he was thankfully silent through most of the bus ride.

It's not that Izuku didn't believe in himself. Izuku figured he had a relatively good chance of passing. Navigating the heroics course without a Quirk was exhausting work, and it was less fulfilling than he imagined when he was younger, but he would never stop. As grueling as his life was nowadays, he'd gained so much from Ketsubutsu Academy. He had friends, a support system, and a mentor who told him he didn't need a Quirk to be a hero.

"Midoriya," Shindo started, placing a light hand on his shoulder. Izuku jumped.

"Your hair's going to catch on fire if you think any harder."

Izuku gave a breathy, nervous chuckle as a response. His nerves had him feeling like he wasn't tethered to the earth. He was adrift somewhere between dimensions.

"You'll be fine. As long as we stick together and stay gunning for UA, we've got this."

Shindo was so self-assured. His easy confidence baffled someone like Izuku—someone who'd spent the majority of his life being beaten down and underestimated. Maybe that's why Izuku gravitated toward Shindo the second he worked his way into the hero course. Maybe subconsciously Izuku hoped some of that confidence would rub off on him.

"Right… UA…." Izuku said, still in a haze of nervous energy. As if taking the licensing exam wasn't stressful enough, he had to deal with the fact that for the first time in almost three years he would be in the same vicinity as Bakugo Katsuki. That never worked out well for Izuku. He hoped that there would be so much going on that they wouldn't actually see each other, but when had Izuku ever gotten lucky like that?

"Come on, Midoriya. Relax. You didn't work this hard to make it to the hero course to burn out when it counts."

This is why they were friends. Shindo had a way of getting in his head and grounding him, steadying him. The thought made him laugh because Shindo's Quirk was the exact opposite of steady ground .

"You're right. There's no reason to be this nervous. I've worked hard to get here and I deserve my spot." Izuku had to remind himself of this often. It was a mantra of sorts. He would keep saying it until he believed it one-hundred percent.

"You'd think someone who's literally making history wouldn't need to be reminded of how great they are," Shindo said, playfully punching him in the arm. Izuku reddened. It was true that he was the first Quirkless person in history to be accepted to Ketsubutsu Academy, and the first Quirkless person in history to be in any heroics course in Japan.

Izuku hated that at first. He'd hoped that the novelty of his Quirklessness would wear off by the time he graduated and made it to the pros, but it didn't seem likely. Around the time they started choosing their hero names, Shindo told him he should just own it; to go as far as making it his hero name and building an entire brand around it, to let all those reporters sniffing around him finally interview him. Izuku couldn't think of a better name, so he went with it. He passed on the reporters and the branding, but his hero name was, in fact, Quirkless. Every time he started regretting it he reminded himself that he could be an inspiration to other Quirkless kids out there, or even kids without physical Quirks.

Izuku was brought back to this plane of existence when Shindo tugged on an errant curl.

"Eh?"

"Look alive, space cadet. We're here." Shindo offered him a smile. It was a slight balm to his frayed nerves, but it could only do so much.

Izuku couldn't catch a break. The second he stepped off the bus, his uniform rumpled from the long the bus ride, he spotted Kacchan—Bakugo? It hardly seemed right to keep calling him such a sweet nickname. Izuku was horrified by the feminine screech that left his mouth before he busied himself by hiding behind Shindo's tall frame.

"Midoriya?" Shindo asked, attempting to turn to look at him. Izuku wouldn't let him, lest he be exposed. Izuku was nervous enough without having to deal with a reunion. Speaking of reunions, Ms. Joke seemed to know Bakugo's instructor personally. Everyone followed her automatically toward the UA students. Izuku was sure he wasn't breathing. His chest felt like it was pinching tighter every step closer. It couldn't get much worse. If he could just stay discreet behind Shindo everything would be—

Shindo was moving, putting on his innocent, disarming act. Izuku was exposed to the whole world and Shindo was holding Bakugo's hands. Izuku said a silent prayer for his friend—he didn't know what he was doing was so dangerous. And yet, Bakugo wasn't exploding. He was hardly even yelling. Well, he was hardly yelling until he saw Izuku.

" DEKU? "

Another squeak. Why couldn't he stop squeaking? He was a hero, damn it. Stop being a coward.

"Uh, hey, Bakugo." Izuku waved weakly, avoiding eye contact. He had to make a conscious effort not to call him Kacchan.

"The hell are you doing here, nerd? Carrying the bags?" Kacchan asked, leaning threateningly into Izuku's personal bubble. Izuku was a hero who could defend himself, and yet, all his training left him in that moment. He felt suffocated and weak under that familiar, piercing gaze. Faintly, Izuku registered one of Kacchan's classmates chastising him, "Hey, man, don't be so rude!"

Fat lot of good that would do for Izuku.

"N-no, I—" Izuku hadn't stuttered in almost two years. What the hell was wrong with him? He felt himself being pulled back to a time when everything—or was it really just one thing?—scared him. Izuku instinctively stepped back, only to bump into Nakagame. She held his shoulders to steady him, but it really felt like she was trapping him.

"You okay, Midoriya?"

Before Izuku could come up with anything to say, Bakugo's homeroom teacher— Eraserhead! —silenced them all and told his students to go change. His voices was startlingly authoritative, so the Ketsubutsu students listened to him as well. Izuku was slow to follow, letting himself fall behind. He wanted as much space between him and Bakugo as possible.

Shindo found his way to Izuku's side, studying him.

"That's him. Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Izuku said, breathy and small.

Izuku told Shindo once about Bakugo and all the things he went through in middle school before he moved away. It was directly after he'd had a panic attack in front of the entire class after sparring with an upperclassman that had a heat convection Quirk. It was nothing like Bakugo's explosions, but it burned the same, and it send Izuku into a spiral of frenzied anger and all-consuming panic. He hardly remembered what he did to that student, but he received a detention for "unsportsmanlike overkill" and had to be bodily dragged out of the sparring ring.

He hadn't wanted to tell him at first, but once he started talking all the words poured out of him like opening flood gates. His therapist was proud of him for opening up to someone, and assured him that being transparent with the people that cared about him could be more healing than all the therapy in the world. He supposed she was right. Not counting this day, Izuku was the happiest and healthiest he'd been in a long time, and his burn-related PTSD was under control for the most part.

"There are thousands of students here. He'll be easy to avoid."

Shindo had a knack for knowing when not to delve deeper. He could always sense when Izuku was feeling cagey. Shindo always comforted him by keeping everything surface level.

"True. I just want to pass this test and go home."

"That's exactly what we'll do," Shindo said, his eyebrows pinching together with fierce determination.

The exam wasn't easy, not by a long shot, but Izuku took comfort in the fact that his classmates were by his side and Bakugo split off from an otherwise united group of UA students. Once Shindo used his Quirk to cause some chaos and split people up, they were able to pick off some students from the lesser known hero schools. They came up with a routine: Shindo would shake the earth beneath them and Izuku would use his throwing knives—well, not knives. They wouldn't let him use knives, so the KB support students made him blunted projectiles that looked and worked the same, but they were electrified, much like a taser. He'd been able to zap a few unbalanced opponents and they were able to get their points.

During the rescue portion, Izuku and Shindo dedicated his time to triage. Shindo's Quirk wasn't suited for rescue, and Izuku was a bit of a whiz kid with first aid. They were interrupted by a sudden burst of hot air. Izuku turned to Shindo, to tell him they should move the civilians, but Shindo was blown back by a gust of wind. He was on his own. He looked to the part of the arena that was covered in melting ice and roaring flames. Inasa and Todoroki. They seemed to no longer be fighting Gang Orca—they were fighting each other.

"What are they doing!"

Izuku didn't know much about Todoroki or Inasa, but they seemed level headed enough to not be so stupid. The fire caught his eye and the heat stung his eyes and needled at his fight or flight response. Fire burns.

Izuku shook his head, pushing the fire and his peers from his thoughts. He turned, ready to get back to the injured civilians, but instead he slams into Bakugo's back. He sneered.

"Back off, Deku. Don't want your shitty Quirklessness to rub off on me. I can't believe you made that stupid shit your hero name."

"Fuck off, Bakugo." The words slipped out, unbidden under his breath. Bakugo tensed and whirled on him. "What did you say to me, shitrag?"

Somehow, Izuku found the courage to stand up to his long time tormentor. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush fueling him. Maybe it was all the fire at his back. It was definitely the worst time to find his voice.

"I said fuck off." He punctuated every word with deliberate slowness, so Bakugo could hear every syllable, the injured civilians completely forgotten.

"Fuck you, Deku! Who the hell do you think you are?"

He shoved Izuku, his palms lightly smoking in his gloves. Izuku remained firm, hardly losing balance. He even managed to get his own shove in, and it felt great. Finally, after so many years, he was able to shove Bakugo back. It should be embarrassing that two heroes in training with over a year of combat experience resorted to shoving each other like they were children in the schoolyard.

"Don't call me that!"

"What should I call you, huh? Worthless? Tag along? Who's coattails are you gonna grab onto now that I'm not around, shitty Deku ?"

"Riding your coattails? Is that what you call saving your life?"

They were screaming at each other, bumping chests and shoving each other only to come back chest to chest every time. Izuku was incensed—he'd gone so long without being Deku, without hearing that horrible nickname. He pulled his arm back to punch Bakugo in his angular jaw. It was retribution long overdue, but before he could let his fist fly, Shindo appeared.

"Midoriya! Get yourself together."

Shindo had a death grip on his shoulders, holding him back. He was trying to look at Shindo but nothing would come into focus for more than a few seconds, his eyes shifting and darting haphazardly. Over Shindo's shoulder he saw two of Bakugo's classmates holding him back. His vision was spotty as he slowly lost himself to the swirling rage and panic clogging up his senses. He'd gone so long without feeling like that. If he had any sense he'd be ashamed. Why did he let Bakugo make him crazy?

Shindo could see the change in his eyes, and if he could see it, so could the mock civilians. In some small part of Izuku's brain he knew that having a panic attack directly after getting in a fight with another hero would result in an automatic fail. Had he already failed? He had too much to lose to fail. How could he let this happen?

Shindo grabbed his face, his eyes urging him to breathe and focus.

"He's not worth this, Midoriya. I promise. You still have time to pass."