Hello, friends, and welcome to my first fic in a different genre! I'm a huge MHA fan, and, if you can't tell by my other works, a pretty big fan of rarepairs as well. Thus, by those powers combined, I present to you the first chapter of my first MHA story! Now, a simple warning: here there be manga spoilers. I'm only up to Volume 23 as of the publishing of this chapter, but if you've only watched the anime, there will be spoilers ahead. I'm trying to stay as close to canon as possible while adding my own flavor to the story. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Kohei Horikoshi

Chapter One

All she needed was an opening.

She'd been looking for one for a while, but now one had almost literally fallen into her lap.

Although she was aware that many of her classmates found their accommodations rather sizeable, to Momo Yaoyorozu the Heights Alliance dormitories were more similar to the quarters her family provided for their live-in staff. Still, she'd quickly grown to love it there; getting to live with all of her friends, not to mention having such easy access to all of U.A.'s resources, had made the move invaluable, despite aesthetic challenges.

She saw Minoru Mineta's grape-covered head watching her from the second-floor balcony out of the corner of her eye, a dark aura surrounding him as drool slickened the floor. And living with the boys. In that moment, however, Tenya Iida raced down the hall, puffs of smoke spilling from the exhausts in his calves, and grabbed Mineta by the collar, a lecture already streaming from his mouth. Well, some of them, anyway.

Though living with the boys had led to the opportunity sitting before her.

Tentatively, Momo stretched her hand toward the object resting on the black wooden coffee table. Her fingers grazed over the formerly white cover (now splotched with grayed ink stains and fingerprints) and the well-worn pages, frayed along the edges and bowing at the corners.

She considered opening the cover, though she knew that would be a gross invasion of privacy. The temptation lingered, however. The cover's soft, pliable cardboard flexed as she thumbed the corner again and again.

"Whatcha got there, Yaomomo?"

A small squeak escaped Momo's throat. She clutched the notebook tight to her chest as her eyes snapped up to the other side of the table.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Momo! I didn't mean to startle you!" Ochaco Uraraka's padded fingertips pressed to her mouth, her eyebrows shooting up into her forehead.

Momo shook her head, then cleared her throat. "It's alright, Ochaco," she said, taking a steadying breath. She hadn't done anything wrong, she knew, but she could still understand why her nerves would be so tightly wound holding this particular item; she eyed the title, scrawled permanently black in both kanji and English: Hero Analysis, No. 15.

Uraraka stepped to the side of the table, closer to where Momo sat on the couch. "Isn't that one of Deku's notebooks?" she asked.

Clearing her throat a second time, Momo tucked a wayward lock of her long black hair behind her ear. "Yes, I found it stuffed between the cushions here," she said, gesturing to the space. "I imagine he must have been writing in it, then become distracted by something and set it down."

A conspiratorial grin pushing toward her rosy cheeks, Uraraka sat beside her friend, her brown bob cut bouncing around her rounded face. "Are you gonna read it?" she asked.

"No!" Momo gasped, a little louder than she intended.

"Aww, c'mon," Uraraka said, scooting a little closer. "Not even a little peek?"

Momo's face flushed. "I… will admit to having considered it," she said, looking down at the notebook again. "But no. I fear that would be like reading his diary."

Uraraka nodded. "Yeah, I get that," she said. Their entire class knew of Izuku Midoriya's analytical skills, especially when it came to Quirks, and his secrecy regarding his actual notebooks was just as legendary. The only other person who had ever held one had been Midoriya's former middle school classmate, Katsuki Bakugo. And that had only been to hit it with a small explosion and set it on fire.

Well, Bakugo and Momo, now.

"What are you going to do with it, then?" Uraraka asked.

"I plan on returning it," Momo replied. "Do you happen to know where he is?"

Uraraka gave her an ear-to-ear smile. "Oh, yeah! I saw him head out to train with Bakugo and All Might about half an hour ago!"

Momo's eyebrows stitched together. "Training? Now?" she asked, though it was more than a statement than a question. In a way, she wasn't surprised. "We've just taken our final exams!"

"You know Deku," Uraraka said, "He's always pushing himself to the limit. Bakugo, too."

That was true. Even though they were only a few weeks away from starting their second year at U.A., Midoriya was out there working, trying to improve even further. Momo looked around the dorms at their classmates: Mina Ashido, Tsuyu Asui, and a floating t-shirt and shorts indicated Toru Hagakure were in the kitchen, sitting at the island in the center munching on snacks; her best friend Kyoka Jiro was on the other side of the common area with Denki Kaminari, each of them holding a guitar, Jiro attempting to teach him a few basic chords; Fumikage Tokoyami had his beak buried in a book in the corner; Yuga Aoyama was with Koji Koda, Mashirao Ojiro, Hanta Sero, and Rikido Sato, a whiteboard plastered with pictures of their hero costumes before them (clearly Aoyama was attempting to discuss ways they could make their outfits flashier); the others were nowhere to be seen, though she knew Shoto Todoroki was visiting his mother.

They were, all of them, good friends, and would one day become great heroes.

But that drive, that single step beyond… Midoriya had exhibited it time and time again. On their first day of classes, nearly a year ago, now, he'd had so little control over his own Quirk that he'd broken a finger throwing a softball; similarly, in fighting against Todoroki in their first Sports Festival, his power wrecked his body so badly that it had been difficult for him to move for the rest of the day. But then, after their internships, he'd come back… and had completely reworked his Quirk in order for him to be able to use it without harming himself. Then, after breaking his arms again fighting the villain Muscular, he'd reworked his fighting style to relieve the stress on his arms. And now, in the finals they'd just taken, he'd been shooting blasts of air from the force of his fingers.

He'd retooled a Quirk he could barely control multiple times in the span of a single year.

Uraraka stood from the couch, a smile on her face, her hand reaching out toward Momo. "Would you like me to take the notebook to him?" she asked.

Momo rose from her seat, the book clutched close to her chest, and stood to her full height, nearly head and shoulders taller than Uraraka. "I appreciate it, but no, thank you," she said with a slight bow. "I will return it myself. I am the one who found it, after all."

For a brief moment, Momo noticed Uraraka's face fall, before it perked up again. "Ok! Well, I think I heard them mention they were heading to Gym Gamma, so you might be able to catch them there."

"Thank you, Ochaco," Momo said, bowing again before taking her leave. As she stepped around the couch, Momo noticed the concerned expression that crossed Uraraka's features; just as quickly however, Uraraka's smile returned, and Momo heard the girl kick her feet up onto the coffee table and turn on the television.

Momo pulled a thin blue hoodie over her shoulders as she walked out the door of the Heights Alliance, Midoriya's notebook tucked under her arm: the opening she'd been hoping for since before their final exams.

Midoriya…

XXXXXX

"Come on, you damn nerd, quit wasting my time!"

Izuku would have said Bakugo's shouting was ringing in his ears, if it weren't for the tinnitus already there from the explosions. "I'm not finished yet, Kacchan!" he shouted, rebounding from where he'd fallen on the ground and shooting across the room in a second. Green lightning lanced its way around his body as he charged power through his muscles.

I could deaden the flames Kacchan generates with his explosions with an air blast… but the real danger from an explosion isn't the fire or the heat, it's the concussive force. And an air blast hitting one would just cause further damage… I've got to think of something else!

Bakugo, however, was not about to allow Izuku the opportunity to plan. He blasted himself forward, running his hand along the concrete floor of the gym. Chips of shrapnel fired toward Izuku as Bakugo brought his hand up, along with the fire and boom. Izuku covered his face with his arms and dove to the side; his forearms burned from both the heat and the sharp stones slicing into his skin. Blood smeared the ground where Izuku fell, but he used the momentum from his fall to twist his body back around and kick out; he caught Bakugo in the chest, sending the boy flying across the gym and negating his follow-up attack.

Both boys were slow to rise. Bakugo laid propped up on one arm, his other clutching his chest as he tried to gather up breath. Izuku had rolled onto his stomach, blood from his wounds trickling down onto the floor as he tried to push himself up.

"Young Bakugo!" All Might's voice was still powerful, despite his weakened, diminutive form, and carried echoes in the hollow concrete of Gym Gamma. "Your attack might have been effective, but using shrapnel like that in training is dangerous!"

Another few moments passed as Bakugo sucked in air. Finally, he stared at All Might, red eyes glaring through the ash-blonde spikes of his hair. "You just said it was effective," he rose, wiping spittle from the side of his mouth. "If Deku can't handle it, he shouldn't be here!"

Izuku flinched. He was on his knees now, sweat dripping down from his nose, mingling with the two small pools of blood beneath his palms. He may not have liked it, but he knew that Kacchan was right. It wasn't like the villains were going to take it easy on them. They couldn't afford to be lax in their training.

Before Izuku could speak, however, All Might's voice blared through the empty gym. "You'll notice, young Bakugo," he said, "That he handled it just fine. But we're not trying to spill blood out here."

"He'll heal," Bakugo spat, wincing as he tried to take a step.

"Eyes don't recover as easily as other parts of the body," All Might said, clapping Bakugo on the shoulder. "And, judging by how you're moving right now, I'd say you probably need a little bit of recovery yourself." Bakugo scoffed, but on his next inhale he wheezed, and All Might launched into a guffaw that carried a sprinkling of blood with it. "Go see Recovery Girl," he said, "We'll call this one a draw."

Izuku knew that wouldn't sit well, and he was absolutely right. "Like Hell!" Bakugo shouted, shoving All Might to the side. "Stand up and fight, Deku! I'm not finished with you yet!"

Small explosions detonated in Bakugo's palm as he loomed over Izuku. Determination lived in his old friend's blood, but as Izuku looked up, a tear in Bakugo's shirt revealed a massive bruise sprawling across his chest, the yellow and purple-black of serious damage. Kacchan will never willingly admit defeat; with those injuries, I could probably beat him… but how much worse will it get before he's down?

So Izuku shook his head and said, "I… I can't."

Bakugo scoffed and tried to stand up straighter, but stopped just shy of his full height. Izuku saw the briefest expression of pain flash across his face. "I'm starting to think this is a waste of my time," Bakugo said, turning toward the exit. After a few steps he paused, shifting to glance over his shoulder. "Be better," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Or there's no point."

As Bakugo shuffled toward the door, Izuku looked to All Might. Shining blue eyes bored into him from their sunken depths, and Izuku was forced to look away from his mentor, back down to the drying blood on the concrete. A long, thin shadow crossed over him as All Might approached. For the briefest moment, Izuku saw a flash of the faded vestige of his predecessor he'd seen his dreams, rather than a simple shadow. "You lied," All Might said, his voice low.

It wasn't something Izuku was usually good at. "I couldn't let Kacchan keep fighting with those injuries."

"I know why you did it," All Might said, kneeling to place a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "But you're both training to be heroes. Besides," he rose, extending a hand so Izuku could do the same, "Isn't that a little hypocritical, coming from you?" They shared a laugh, and All Might clapped Izuku on the back. "Come on, let's get you—"

"Outta my way, Ponytail!" They heard Bakugo shout from the other side of the gym.

Izuku turned toward the exit, and saw Yaoyorozu in the doorway. Bakugo was still hunched over, a hand clutching at his chest, the other forearm pressing against Yaoyorozu's shoulders as he shoved his way past her. Her mouth hung open in a small oval, but her eyebrows furrowed, and she watched Bakugo stomp off briefly before shaking her head.

"Young Yaoyorozu!" All Might called, waving to her.

Izuku felt the heat rise in his face as Yaoyorozu approached. His usual response to any girl, really, but with Yaoyorozu it felt different; there was something about her, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. With some of his other classmates, like Ururaka or Ashido, he'd grown more comfortable, able to hold friendly conversations and witty banter. He'd even throw in a joke every now and again.

But with Yaoyorozu that just hadn't happened. She'd always seemed… distant, to him. That's just how things were. Maybe that's how they would stay.

Maybe that's how they were supposed to be.

"What can I do for you today?" All Might asked, after Yaoyorozu greeted them with a bow.

Izuku divested himself from All Might, giving each of them a polite nod. "I'll see you later, All Might, Yaoyorozu," he said, turning toward the door.

"Wait!" Yaoyorozu shouted, her hand gripping his arm. Wincing, Izuku jerked away from her out of reflex, and she looked at her palm, to the slickened red blood there. "My goodness! Midoriya, what happened to your arms? Did you hurt yourself again? I thought you had more control over your Quirk now!"

As she spoke, rolls of gauze began to tumble out of the glowing skin near her collarbone, where her white tank top dipped slightly. She handed these to All Might, then held one hand against the small of her back while the other lifted her shirt and hoodie.

Izuku felt his face get hotter.

A bottle of hydrogen peroxide appeared in her hand, along with a white cloth. She opened the bottle and saturated the cloth, then paused. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, a free hand covering her mouth, "I should've asked your permission beforehand. Please forgive me."

Her politeness exceeded even his own, and Izuku found himself smiling. He shook his head. "It's all right," he said, extending his arms for her. "Thank you."

Yaoyorozu cleaned the wounds, then took the gauze from All Might and began to wrap Izuku's forearms. "How did this happen?" she asked.

"Just some cuts from training with Kacchan," Izuku replied. A smile crossed his face again. "Nothing I did to myself this time."

She smiled back at him. Izuku's breath hitched in his throat for a second. "Well… that's good to hear," she said, her voice peppered with the lilt of good humor.

Were they… talking? Holding conversation?

Holy crap!

Yaoyorozu had finished with his left and moved on to his right. Her hands stumbled as they crossed over the scars on his hand, and Izuku's face fell. He almost wanted to pull back, but he let her continue.

"Ahem," All Might said, "Was there something you needed from me, young Yaoyorozu?"

"Oh! Well, actually," Yaoyorozu started. As she finished tying off Izuku's bandages, he saw her reach for something tucked underneath her arm. Something that apparently used to be white. Something that looked vaguely like…

Oh, no…

"I was hoping to talk to Midoriya," she said, holding out his notebook.

She read it. Oh, crap, she read it, and now my whole life is over. I'll have to move. I'll have to switch schools. I'll—

All Might coughed, the sound accompanied with bloody spittle. "Right, well, then," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "I… guess I'll be on my way." He clapped a hand on Izuku's back. "Good work today, Young Midoriya. I'll see you later." And with a polite nod to Yaoyorozu, which she returned in kind, he left the gym.

And left Izuku to his fate.

"So," Yaoyorozu began, pausing as her face flushed.

I'm dead.

"I found this in the couch cushions in the common room," she continued, holding the notebook out to him.

Izuku took it with shaking fingers. "Thank you," he said, his voice just as tremulous. "I've been looking for this for a few days."

Truth be told, he'd been tearing his room in the dorms upside down searching for it for the past few days, but she didn't need to know that.

"I'm glad I was able to return it to you," she said, her eyebrows upturned, a finger drifting around her lips. She hadn't looked at his face since she'd finished bandaging his arms, instead glancing to the space All Might had just vacated.

The pleasantries were out of the way, now. All that remained was for her to drop the hammer blow, to reveal she'd read the contents of the notebook.

Moments passed in silence. Sweat rolled down Izuku's back. "Um…" he said finally, scratching the back of his head, "Well, thank you, again, I really appreciate it."

He turned to leave, hoping that she was too embarrassed to discuss the notebook with him, that maybe she was just willing to leave it alone. It was too much to hope that she'd hadn't read it at all. He was so secretive with them, the temptation would be too great for anyone.

Yaoyorozu stepped in front of him, a sudden fierceness in her features. She was several inches taller than he, enough so that when she stuck out her upraised palm to stop him, it was level with his face. "Wait," she said, her voice strong. "I had something I needed to discuss with you."

Here it was. The inevitable end of his future at U.A. All Might would have to sneak around to train him. Assuming he still wanted to at all.

"Oh, really?" he said, the stutter in his voice making him nearly unintelligible. Never mind his usual nervousness around girls, this pressure was too much. He thought his heart might explode. "Whatever could that be?"

Yaoyorozu lowered her palm to her side. Her face scrunched together tight, a look of revulsion. I knew it. I'm done for.

Instead, she bowed to him again. The tips of the high pull of her ponytail tickled his nose.

"Izuku Midoriya," she said, "I need your help."