A fresh start - WereKoalaPL - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: A father of one

Chapter Text

Who would have thought that after death there is life. What was the word Hashirama used? Life is reused? Is that how he described it? Possibly. Nevertheless this is absurd. There are metal wagons, pulled along by nothing, and people are wearing strange clothes. Heck most of them look like some of Tobirama's more gruesome experiments.

It takes a couple of minutes for Madara Uchicha to tune in to the world. What is even scarier, most of these people have just trace amounts of chakra. A deep breath steadies him, and lets him assess his own state. He is dead, that's absolutely certain. Hadn't Hashirama just run him through with a sword... again? Nevertheless his chakra is completely replenished, and as far as he can tell his body is in a perfect condition. He is standing by a river, with some people passing on the bridge above head, and the bizarre metal-wagons riding past. Maybe this is some sort of genjutsu? Then again Hashirama has never been one to favor the 'underhanded tactics' even if he knew them well. A sound of soft sobs reaches his ears, and once again Madara tunes into the nonphysical world. Obscured by a shadow, just below the bridge is hiding a young woman. The Uchiha squints, there is something about her, something strange about her chakra. He tries clearing the genjutsu, but when that doesn't give there isn't much else he can do. He is stuck... for now.

A quick look around confirms that there is literally nothing to be done right now. He could certainly abandon the woman to her pain, but it's not like he can simply pop back into another world. Maybe he can get information in exchange for some help. He takes a step, and feels the strange clothes on his body. Something that looks very vaguely like a red shirt, and a pair of black pants are hardly what one would consider battle attire. Madara sighs once again, this is wild even going by any standards he is used to and a Shinobi War gets you used to some pretty creepy stuff.

Slowly he walks towards the woman. He can see now the green hair peeking out from behind a trashcan. He keeps observing her chakra, seeing more and more details, how it fills her body, how it feels almost tangible. The amount would be considered rare even by the Senju standards, why isn't this woman a formidable shinobi? The question prances in his mind, as he steps into the shadow. It takes a short moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Sitting with her knees pulled to her chest is a woman, she is young, probably not much younger than he is. She has beautiful flowing green hair, and wears a white dress. Madara clears his throat, trying to draw her attention. The woman sobs quietly, and he moves to step in front of her, trying to garner a response. When that doesn't work, he decides directly addressing the problem might work.

"Excuse me my lady, but might you tell me where am I?", he asks in his sweetest tone.

A pair of puffy, red, emerald eyes look up at him, and Madara's heart does something stupid, something utterly impossible, it flips. He hears static when the lady answers him softly, and his jaw goes slack when her melodic voice finally tears through the white noise. A tone so sweet, and rhythmic he could die listening to it reaches his ears. Madara blinks stupidly, reiterating over what she just heard. Right, he is on the outskirts of Tokio. Tokio, right. Another blink, another flip. His eyes travel over barely visible freckles on the woman's cheeks, and a nervous fleeting feeling starts in his guts.

"My name is Madara Uchiha. May I inquire as to your name?", he asks, trying his best at the smooth, honey dipped tone he used earlier, but instead it comes out as a half chocked croak.

The woman sniffs loudly before answering, "I'm Inko Midoriya. Nice to meet you Uchiha-san", she says with a smile which could rival the sun.

***

If ever asked about what Madara wanted while he was alive, family would rank somewhere between drinking poison and eating chili peppers. It's funny how just a couple of years after meeting Inko he is holding their baby son in his arms. The boy is covered in blood, and screeches loudly, as he passes him to Inko. He can honestly say he is now the happiest man on Earth, this one and that other one, wherever it is.

"Inko, it's a boy", he whispers with pride and joy. He never believed he would want an heir. Now that he has one, he already wants ten.

"Let's call him Izuku", she whispers tiredly. Madara kisses her forehead, putting the boy in her arms. He watches her coo happily at the tiny human, and the boy calms down slightly. He has her beautiful eyes, lightened just a shade, as though chakra seeped into his irises. Madara's heart swells. Yet nothing good lasts and just a few seconds later he can hear the monitors above Inko's head start beeping furiously, as his wife rapidly starts fading.

In a flash a nurse pushes him out of the room. He watches from behind the glass, as they take his son away and lower the bed just before the blinds are pulled shut. His gut clenches, and his heart hurts, as he grips his head. The worst part now is not that he doesn't know what's happening inside, he already knows. His wife's chakra is disappearing, it's slipping away so fast that not even Hashirama could save her.

"No, no, no, no", he mutters pacing in front of the glass, as he clutches his head. The first tears slip from his eyes, as he listens to the orders shouted by the doctor inside, "Oh God why?", he cries in horror, his hands slamming against the glass pane.

***

Later that evening Madara is sitting in a large armchair in another hospital room. He has already said his goodbyes, to the one and only woman he ever loved. In his arms comfortably sleeping is the only thing tethering him to this world. Silent tears fall from his eyes, but he catches them quickly before they touch his dreaming son. What is he going to do without Inko? What sort of a father can a man like him be?

"Izuku", he mutters quietly, to the tiny boy who's hand is wrapped around his rough finger, "I promise to you. I will be here for you forever, my dearest son", he whispers into the silence of the room, caressing the tiny fingers. A quiet sob wrecks his body, but he chokes it down, not to jostle the baby. It's only now that he looks at his sleeping son. He has his nose, but he is pretty sure he can see a few locks of forest green hair, as beautiful as his wife's. He shifts his perception to his other senses, and sees the beautiful, bright swirling chakra coursing through his son. It's warm, and reminds him of a green peaceful valley, so unlike his own dark and volatile energy. He can feel his chin quiver, and another bout of tears flows into his eyes. "I will teach you to protect yourself. You will be great, the greatest this world has ever seen", he adds in a strangled voice, as he hugs the boy closer to his chest.

***

Being a single father is hard. No, scratch that. Being a single father is a constant battle for time, energy, and perseverance unlike any fight he has ever fought. If not for his inhuman stamina, and constant use of this weird energizing product called coffee, he would have gone mad long ago. Luckily Izuku, now four, is too preoccupied with something called quirks to cause trouble. He recalls Inko telling him about them, but he didn't have one, so why worry about them. Other than that jutsus are much more versatile and efficient.

Right now Izuku is sitting at the table, coloring some All Might. Whoever this guy is, Madara understands he is sort of like a Hokage. He really has to get a better grip on this world. Normally he would itch to battle this All Might, luckily his times of fighting are over. All right, not over, they have shifted to fighting grass stains, battling his son over snacks, and tickle wars. He smiles to himself watching the pork turn a nice golden color, perfect. In a few nimble moves he fishes it out and cuts it into stripes before placing half on each bowl of rice.

"Katsudon, Izuku", he beams down at his son, who gives him the same smile his wife used to. Madara can't help but gaze into the deep green eyes. They remind him of the love of his life, with their son being her last farewell present for him. Their little Izuku with more chakra than Hashirama and Madara put together.

"Thanks dad", his son chirps, and digs in immediately. They eat in comfortable silence for a few moments. "Daw wat if youf quirf?", Izuku asks over a mouthful of rice.

"First swallow then talk son", Madara instructs patiently and waits for the boy to comply. Izuku gulps down a mouthful of rice.

"What is your quirk dad?", the boy pipes up excitedly. Madara in turn nearly chokes on his meal and after a good moment of hacking and a glass of water fetched by his freckled son, he is forced to answer. Truth be told he knew being quirkless was a rarity, and probably Izuku would have his heart broken if he told him they are both quirkless. They had both been to a doctor, and Madara received the grim news in privacy. He could use fire jutsus, and retained all his powers and Izuku is basically an Uchiha, so, maybe...

"I can breath fire", he lies calmly. He watches his son brighten like a tiny star and his heart melts a little bit.

"Does that mean I will be able to breath fire?", Izuku asks excited as ever. Madara remembers something about the quirk manifesting before the fifth birthday, which in case of Izuku is in a month...

"I don't know. Let's find out", he answers standing up.

***

A half hour walk later they are standing on the bank of the river. The sun is setting slowly, but Izuku is practically vibrating with excitement. Madara does a double take making sure no one is around. Being reported for unlawful use of quirk isn't exactly high up on his list of priorities now.

"All right", he says noting the coast is clear. "Now watch closely. I need to fold my hands like this", Boar, "then this", Horse, "then like that", Tiger, he recalls the way his father taught him the technique with the basic seals. Truth be told he never needed them, but maybe Izuku could use the training wheels. "Then I take a deep breath, and feel it heat up inside me, and I release it as a ball of fire.", he explains and Izuku nods eagerly, already repeating the moves. They are clumsy, and not quite there, but for a four year old they could even be called decent.

"Now watch", he says turning towards the river. He repeats the seals, taking extra precautions to get the size just between ups-I-burned-down-half-the-block and what-is-this-tiny-fire. The air superheats in his lungs with the pleasant tingling sensation it always brings before he exhales a huge ball of fire over the river. It takes up a good three fourths of the river's width in diameter, as he holds it for nearly half a minute. As soon as he releases it he turns to his son, who's huge eyes glimmer with something akin to worship.

"My turn!", the boy breathes, and rushes over to the edge of the concrete. In his excitement he forgets the seals, and Madara holds back a chuckle seeing him take in a deep breath. He half expects the boy to splutter and pout at his failure. However his laughter dies down instantly when Izuku breathes a ball of fire about the half size he did. The boy stops after a couple of seconds and the heat dissipates, as they lock eyes. "Dad, I have your quirk", Izuku whispers with awe. Something in Madara's heart skips as his chest becomes tight with pride.

"You do son", he says falling to his knees and hugging the boy to his chest. He still holds the faded memories of him and Hashirama practicing. Maybe he could once again enjoy the sort of life he left behind. Maybe there is a reason he was sent here.

***

That night he tells Izuku the story about his brother, and the special 'quirk' he had, the Sharingan. A quirk which allowed him to copy parts of other's quirks, or pick up things others couldn't see. To his exasperation it only serves to excite the boy who is now hell bent on becoming a hero and won't got to sleep no matter how he argues and reasons with him.

It takes a good hour of negotiating and then another two stories to lull his restless son to sleep. His neck and shoulders hurt from the uncomfortable bed, when he finally steps out of the room. Madara smiles to himself, and can't help wondering what the future holds in store for them.

Chapter 2: The awakening

Chapter Text

Having a cool quirk usually does not stop the fighting among peers. Especially if your father is kind to the bone and stands on principle that a hero should first talk then fight, making you seem like a pushover. For some reason his dad keeps saying it is very ironic these words fall from his lips. Being twelve Izuku had already learned his quirk is in fact no quirk at all. It is some form of energy which lets him do incomprehensible things. Some of them include increasing his strength, stamina, or walking up vertical surfaces, as of lately his most common way of escaping his peculiar childhood friend Kacchan, who just can't get enough of comparing their strength through battle.

Ever since Izuku manifested his 'quirk' Katsuki Bakugou made it a point of his day to prove which of them is superior, which for all ends and purposes Izuku did his best to avoid. Now for that there was a good reason. First being this one time some kid picked on him for not having a mom. Madara just looked at the guy, than Izuku though he had seen his dad's eyes do something funky and the next moment the boy was crying and pissing his pants. Izuku shuddered at the memory remembering a single bloody tear his father shed, and then the vicious smirk when his bully bolted out of the room is shame and fear. Second, even with a good handle on his chakra, he didn't quite want everyone to know about it. Being different tended to get people bullied, and he had enough of that before his father told him about his unique power. Then again its not like he ever confessed to being in trouble.

"Get down here and fight me you freak!", Kacchan yells, as Izuku charges up the wall. So far he has managed to defeat the uncontrollable blond with just his fire style and some basic taijutsu, which dad kept on repeating is the most fun part of being a shinobi. As Izuku understood being one revolved around using chakra, fighting and wearing a 'team jersey', that is every, literally every shirt he owned had the Uchiha crest on its back. His dad called it a family tradition, he called it bad fashion sense.

"I am NOT burning you again or my dad will have my head!", Izuku bites back, already halfway to the rooftop. He certainly isn't going to fight Bakugou today of all days. If something happened to his twelve notebooks detailing various details about chakra and various ways to utilize it... Izuku shudders mid run. What he does not expect though is to hear a series of loud bangs and meet Katsuki face to face on the roof. Izuku bites on his lip, ready to flee the panting boy, but before he gets a chance Kachhan launches at him with a vicious sneer.

Izuku's world seems to slow down, as his eyes suddenly burn. Katsuki's image becomes overly sharp, with the right arm, which he always swings first seemingly stretching like a fractal in space. In a heartbeat Izuku sidesteps the attack, still watching the bizzare hallucination. What else could it be. This time the blond's knee starts blurring, and Izuku takes the effort to actually push his friend off balance before the joint collides with his gut. Katsuki stumbles gracelessly before falling on his ass with a thud.

They lock eyes, and for a split second Katsuki's scowl is replaced with a surprised expression.

"The f*ck is wrong with your eyes?!", he hollers.

His eyes... Izuku pulls out his phone, and quickly switches on the camera app. He looks at his reflection, at the stark red orbs, quite similar to Bakugou's blood red ones, but a shade lighter with a single drop at the very bottom. He snaps a photo quickly, and a few moments later red fades back to his original sea colored hue. Katsuki is now standing by his side, looking at the picture with an unsettled expression, and a remarkably quiet stream of curses escaping his lips.

"I don't know", Izuku mumbles, not quite believing that just like his father he has the Sharingan. Now he can become an even cooler hero, he can be as powerful as his dad!

***

He listens to his father's content hum, as he chops the vegetables and his father readies the noodles. It's their normal Tuesday routine, at least it would have been if he hadn't cut himself for a third time in twenty minutes. The excitement is hard to contain when you find out you can learn from someone by just looking at them.

"Izuku are you all right?", his father asks, seemingly not paying attention, but for all odds and ends Izuku is pretty sure he is well aware of how many, where and how deep the cuts on his fingers are. He sighs inwardly and then outwardly, before putting down the knife and holding his hand up. "Wondered how many more cuts it is going to take to tell me what's on your mind", his father says not turning his attention away from the pot.

"I need to tell you something dad", Izuku says quietly. Too quietly, and now he has Madara's attention all to himself.

"You fell in love? And it's a boy?", Madara deadpans, and Izuku can feel his heart accelerate dangerously. No way is he ready for that conversation.

"N-n-nn-oooo", he stammers out. He always stammers when he is nervous despite all the exercises they have been doing since he first started to stutter.

"All right. Hit me", his father says, putting an unruly strand of his long hair behind his ear. His expression is kind and open, the way it has always been with him, and yet he has the same problem with breaking news.

"I think I have awakened the Sharingan", he whispers, looking at his feet. Izuku closes his eyes, listening to the hiss of the stove being turned off, and the scuffle of his father wiping his hands, before Madara bends down to be at eye level with him. He would have been, at least, if Izuku hadn't been staring at his bare feet.

"Izuku, you know you can tell me anything", his father says softly placing a hand on his shoulder, "And this is really good news", the man adds in a comforting tone.

"Yes dad. I just, don't know. You said Sharingan can do terrible things", Izuku answers, recalling the tales of Tsukuyomi, or the Amatserasu, the curse of hatred, what happened with uncle Izuna and how for a short while after his brother's death dad became a villain. Luckily he met his mother before his atrocious career could take full swing.

"I did. But you can also use it to do great things. The Tsukuyomi can buy someone a lot of time, since their mind will think they are still alright for its duration, or allow you to capture villains without fighting. The Amatserasu can burn away rubble trapping someone, or disarm your opponent with just a look", his father explains patiently, and Izuku finds it in himself to look into those nearly black eyes. Madara is smiling at him, the weird, tense, tight lipped smile, which stands for 'I will protect you come hell, high water or an army of villains'. A coarse hand cups his cheek and a thumb swipes away a tear he doesn't remember shedding. "Show me", his father asks. Izuku gulps and takes a deep breath recalling the feeling of tingling in his eyes. The strange sensation of chakra saturating his irises. Moments later he feels the same sensation, and watches the unwavering smile his father wears turn into a full blown grin. The man ruffles his hair roughly, and Izuku beams at him, relaxing into the familiar gesture, "I am proud of you son. You are going to be a splendid hero", he hears the words, and they hit him straight in the heart.

***

Izuku returns from school to see his father set up a row of wooden poles in the garden. They are too thick to grow tomatoes around, and much to large to use for any sort of training as far as he knows. The moment he enters the garden his father smiles at him, and waves him over.

"See Izuku. I am going to teach you one of our family's specialties", dad says pointing proudly to the row of wooden pillars. Izuku blinks stupidly, he thought his dad's specialty is beef stew not gardening and certainly not wood crafting. Madara quickly catches on to his confusion and explains, "Our family is great with throwing shuriken", and Izuku is baffled.

"As in ninja stars?", he asks wondering when exactly had his father been trained as a feudal era assassin. Maybe he should actually make more trouble for the old man.

"The correct term is shi-no-bi", his father drawles, with a smirk. Izuku nods solemnly, making a mental note his dad may be mental.

"And you can throw a shuriken?", he asks doubtfully, trying his best to check his father for fever in the meantime. Chakras he could understand, fire breathing he could understand, but this?!

"I guess you don't believe me", Madara scoffs, and Izuku is about ready to snicker, and give up on his father's prank, no matter how elaborate and entertaining. But before he can turn around, his father throws three, THREE!!, shuriken hitting each of the trunks dead center, "Now that we have got that out of the way, you need to remember to flick your wrist. Today is shrimp tempura, so you better get to practicing, my little hero", Madara chimes and leaves him with his jaw hanging open staring at the three pieces of metal neatly stuck into the trees.

***

Upon returning late from work the next day he finds his son practicing. Seems like this whole hero business is more important than he thought. He sits in the shadows following the erratic movements his son makes when trying to get the stars to land closer to the center of the target. Izuku has mastered the great fireball to perfection by the time he was five, and if that wasn't enough he already possessed enough skill and knowledge to discuss some more advanced techniques and uses of chakra. Yet all of his jutsus weren't very hero like. After all during the Shinobi Wars he had mostly focused on death and destruction, not exactly the arsenal he would want for his son. Madara chews on his lip thinking of a solution to this debacle. What if he tried teaching the boy genjutsu and the healing techniques though? He is going to need mice and fish, and an aquarium.

Chapter 3: A thousand birds

Chapter Text

His feet scrape the pavement as he trudges through the dark underpass. School today was boring, excruciatingly even. All the training he could have gotten done in those eight dreary hours... It's unthinkable. Besides he had a surprise for his father, something he perfected during lunch thanks to a short phone call and yesterday's delicious dinner followed by a discussion about chakra compatibility. Speaking of dinner, dad said he had something absolutely delicious planned for today. If it was katsudon Izuku is having a hard time imagining how he could perfect the dish further. The boy hungrily strokes his toned stomach. As of lately he seemed to have insatiable appetite, much to his doting dad's delight. Thinking about it, Otosan could make a fortune if he opened a restaurant instead of being a private investigator. Then again his father always loved the adrenaline rush coming from all those tough to crack cases which were too high grade for the police and too low profile for any decent hero to take, or at least that's what he said.

As Izuku nears the end of the tunnel he can smell something rotting. The stench is undoubtedly coming from the manhole a few meters away, and he speeds up to get out into the open air more quickly. Today is supposedly their day off, nevertheless he wants to try and goad his lazy dad into showing him what this genjutsu thing he was talking about for months now is for real. Izuku is deep in his thoughts when an overwhelming feeling of danger engulfs him. In a flash he falls forward and rolls. His dad told him countless times that once the Sharingan awakens such things can and will happen and it's best to heed them. The moment he gets to his feet the manhole behind him explodes with a loud clang. A foul smell fills the air, as a bizarre variant of sentient sludge flows from the hole.

Izuku gags but quickly activates his Sharingan and watches the strange sludge monster look at him with disdain. It has eyes and lips, but they remind him of a child's poor attempt at human features.

"You are a quick one shrimpy", it chides pulling the remains of its huge green-brown body out of the gutter with a wet squelch. The stench makes Izuku's eyes water. The villain, if that's what it is, towers over him, blocking out nearly the whole of the tunnel.

"What do you want?", Izuku gags out, barely holding his lunch in at the putrid smell. Why didn't he just tag along with Kacchan to the arcade, like he usually did?

"Oh just a meat suit to get away from that damned hero. And you are just my size", the sludge quips launching at him.

But before the villain can take two steps, Izuku has already formed the tiger seal, and taken a deep breath. He can feel the chakra boil in his lungs, and when the villain is about to pounce he releases it in one steady stream.

'Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu', sounds his voice in his head.

The villain is thrown back instantly, and in a few short moments is propelled out of the tunnel, as the air in front of Izuku heats up and rapidly expands. Izuku can hear the wet splat even over the roar of the blaze he just created. When the fire dissipates the villain is already gone, probably sliding back into some dark hole. Izuku looks around for his opponent, but there are no traces, save for the broken manhole. With a soft sigh he dials the number for the Damage Control Force and leaves the tunnel.

***

Izuku rounds the corner ready to cross the last street before he would be by the arcade. He can already see his father's long, spiky hair and the familiar burgundy suit, when something in the world around him shifts. It's faint, but he can smell sewage and it's almost as though he could hear explosions. Izuku closes his eyes and tries to focus his chakra. He listens to the shimmering energy around him, and the trace amounts everyone is carrying. His father's dark and volatile chakra stands out, but he passes by it. Something powerful is tugging him down the street though.

When Izuku opens his eyes he sees smoke rising from a small square down the alley. Something must be happening there, maybe a villain attack. Incapable of containing his curiosity he bolts down the alley and pushes his way through the crowd of onlookers. The familiarity of the chakra he sensed grows, it's red, explosive and strong, even if there is very little of it. But there is something worrying him, it is fading. He elbows a man in the ribs, and steps on a lady's foot to finally get to the front. A breeze wafts the terrible smell, he recognizes from just minutes ago.

Izuku's eyes take in the scene in front of him. The villain he defended himself from is now wrecking chaos on the small square. A number of heroes are standing around, trying to contain him but to no avail. There is fire everywhere, and familiar nitric smelling explosions rage all around. Izuku's heart clenches, when he activates the Sharingan, and his hands start trembling when he realizes that this time the villain succeeded in taking a hostage. And then a pair of pleading, scared, blood-red eyes lock with his own.

"Katsuki", Izuku's eyes widen open as he gasps. From the murky depths peeks out a clump of spiky blond hair, and a pair of frightened pleading eyes. He can feel his gut clench, as he shrugs of the backpack and reaches into the small satchel he carries at all times. The blood red, eyes catch his own green ones, and Izuku feels like he just started falling.

The villain cackles and taunts the heroes, as Kacchan's chakra starts dwindling to nothing. Izuku watches the scene taking in the horrifying truth. If he doesn't act he will lose his best friend. He scrunches up his eyes, looking for anything he could do. "Fire and lighting are out, could harm Kacchan", he mutters, "judging by the heroes standing by, he is impervious to direct physical trauma", he adds seeing Death Goro and Kamui Woods. The chakra is nearly gone, when Izuku charges forward.

He isn't sure what exactly will happen when he attacks, but he is left with no choice. Sprinting, he fishes out two shuriken from the satchel hanging on his hip and throws them with the deadly precision the Uchiha clan takes pride in. Two pieces of metal fly straight for the eyes of the monster. They rebound, but the villain cowers away, giving him just enough time for three seals. Ox, Rabbit, Monkey. This better work, he hopes, when he feels the power flowing in his left. His other hand locks tightly around Katsuki's shirt.

"Move!", he bellows at the teen spluttering profanities. He tugs as hard as he can, and Katsuki releases a blast, setting him free of the villain grip. They stagger back, as the noise and light coming from Izuku's hand escalates.

"Oh look another hostage ripe for the taking!", the villain laughs. Izuku knows that if no hero came to save Kacchan, no one is going to intervene now. But he doesn't need a hero. The noise coming from his left blocks out the roar of fires the villain set with Katsuki's quirk, and the heroes yelling at them to get away. He can sense his friend crawling back to safety, but he isn't going to retreat. The Uchiha do not retreat.

Izuku watches the villain launch a slimy tentacle in his direction. It's strange it seems even slower then back in the tunnel. He slips around it easily and goes in for a counter attack. His red sneakers hit the pavement in three sure steps, and his hand sinks deep into the disgusting bog making up the villain. A wet cackle can be heard above, and Izuku smirks. For a moment the crackling of his lightning is muffled, obscured by the watery body, and he can hear the heroes yelling at him. They don't know yet, he just won.

"Lighting Release: Chidori", he whispers, as the chirping sound grows beyond comprehensible volumes. The song of a thousand birds drowns out everything and the bright light stings his eyes, as he watches the villains body shake and convulse. Izuku pushes more chakra, he needs to end this. With his free hand he adds half of the Ram seal focusing his energy and picturing an explosive shape the lightning is to take. There is a blinding flash of light, and then the technique dies down. His hand is free, everything stinks and there is something wet all over his face and clothes. Izuku has to blink a couple of times before his vision come back properly. He takes in the view of the small, wrecked town square, now covered in greenish goo and turns to his friend with a small thumbs up. Suddenly his lunch comes up his throat in a wave of nausea. Before he can utter a word, he dashes for the nearest trash bin and starts barfing.

"Dumbass what was that! You could have gotten yourself killed!", Bakugou yells behind him, waiting for Izuku to finish before pulling his head up to repeat the same thing to his face. "Oi! Dumbass, what's with those eyes?!", he bellows, but is pulled back by two heroes, and his nearly caring tone is replaced by Death Goro's admonishing voice.

***

Cellphones, truly if he could send one thing back to his old world that would be it. The world of knowledge at your fingertips, and yet most elect it to watch cute cats. Madara could be sitting on his high horse, had it not been for the fact that he greatly enjoyed a certain 'Sleepless kitten' blog, where a certain young teenager posted an absurd amount of those sweet buggers. So that was what he was doing when he heard the sounds of an explosion coming from around the corner and sensed his son's chakra with just a hint of lightning mixed in. Seems like Izuku was secretly up to some interesting training, and here he was thinking the boy needed supervision.

Madara shrugs it isn't that uncommon for villains to attack in early afternoon and he is pretty sure his son can handle most of them, so not to worry. Besides, if he starts going searching for his son he is going to lose two minutes of looking at a super sweet, fluffy Russian Blue cuddling with his mom. What is a bit unsettling though is that he also felt his son's chakra flare up earlier, he could have sworn the boy was using fire style for something. Than again it wouldn't be that unexpected that Katsuki-kun wanted to battle. The boy reminded him of how he was a back in his 'golden days', hell bent on proving his worth, proud, willing to fight anyone to get his way. Luckily, people change, and now he is an awesome dad. His ears pick up on birds chirping, it sounds like a whole flock is in some great distress, but there aren't even pigeons around. The distinct prickling feeling of lighting chakra grows together with the noise. Something is amiss, the amount of chakra isn't what he would use to deal with Katsuki, not by a long shot.

Madara's eyes widen in shock at his negligence, as he pockets his phone.

In a split second he is already standing behind a large group of onlookers, craning their neck to get a better view. Near the back stands a thin, deathly pale man with long ragged bangs. He frowns recognizing one of his clients Toshinori Yagi.

"What's happening here Yagi-san?!", Madara yells turning the man to face him. Yagi coughs up some blood, but Madara doesn't make a move to shrink away, he is already used to his client hacking a pint a day at least.

"A boy charged forward to save someone from the villa--", the blond answers, but his words are drowned out by deafening noise and bright light.

***

When the ruckus finally stops Madara is still holding the man by the shoulders. Slowly he follows his gaze to look at the small city square adorned in blotches of green and brown, and his dear son standing in the center of that destruction. He lets the man go and starts pushing his way through the crowd, which now having nothing to gawk at is slowly dispersing. Madra's eyes are trained on his son, Katsuki is there too, getting up and yelling something, undoubtedly obscenities. He is nearly there when Izuku starts puking up into the nearest trash bin. The smell hits his nostrils and Madara feel more than tempted to follow suit. In the day he had a fair share of 'the stench of death' or rather the stench of sh*t, since upon dying most tend to crap their pants. It takes him a minute to adjust to the smell, during which he watches two men yell at his son. Their voices carry down the street. He can't help the feeling there is something terribly dishonorable in screaming at a kid. Madara schools his features and starts walking towards the two men picking on his son. He has half the mind to start of Izuku's genjutsu training with a very telling demonstration.

"Uchicha Madara, bounty hunter, private investigator and father to this young gent here", he says in his sweetest tone, cutting off Death Goro mid sentence. The man gives him a pissed look and it really takes a lot out of Madara not to goad the hero further just for the sake of a good fight.

"Do you know what your son did?", the other hero spits. Some guy in a fireman costume. It's ridiculous looking, as though he just crawled out of the cereal box. Why must the gods put his patience to such vicious tests?

"If I did, would I need you two here?", he shoots back in his sugary voice. He mentally berates himself for not being able to be civil with idiots, but he isn't going to apologize now. His son sends him an amused look, but quickly finds something interesting on the pavement under the glare he sends his green haired menace. Madara turns back to the heroes and tries giving them a smile. It comes out as a crooked parody, but he isn't going to try harder.

"He interfered with hero work. Endangered a civilian. Caused damages and used his quirk unlawfully. These are-", Death Goro starts counting of all the offenses his son has committed and Madara really has to hold back from laughing. A quick glance around the scene tells him more than the hero ever could, even if he did grow a bigger brain. He had already seen seven pros, and there is evidence of only one villain. Izuku endangered a civilian that meant there was a hostage situation. In conclusion, these two idiots got their ego busted by a fourteen year old and are now pissed about it.

"So you are telling me he handled a hostage situation you two couldn't, came out unharmed and you want him punished for your incompetence?", he asks slowly, and articulately, making sure the venom really sinks in. Izuku snorts, apparently finding something on the pavement extremely amusing. He looks at the two fuming heroes in turn, but neither says a word, "Good. Izuku, come on. You got to take a shower before dinner", he chirps switching back to his 'dad-voice', as Izuku once very accurately put it. Madara can almost taste the anger coming off of Death Goro, and can't help but revel in it.

Walking away from the 'crime scene' they pass by Bakugou, who is sitting in utter indignation and huffing bitterly as heroes coo over him. Bakugou sort of reminds him of himself, all anger, ambition, and yet somewhere deep inside a speck of caring and gentleness. Madara can't help but think that he must have been a really terrible person to be around, maybe Hashirama did have a point after all. Bakugou in turn looks like a very angry rooster, the scowl on his face is so deep Madara is pretty sure someone could be buried in it. He contemplates releasing the boy from this torment, and looks down at his son for advice. The little shinobi side eyes him and nods curtly, before pulling out his phone and snapping a picture discretely. How lovely, his son has already mastered blackmail.

"All right. This boy lives nearly next door to us, I can take this from here", he says to the gathering of heroes, who eye him very villainously, for such a noble profession. In turn Bakugou's lessened scowl can be read as gratitude or at least something close enough to be mistaken for it. The blond quickly gets to his feet and walks past him before anyone can push any more calling cards into his hand. Madara can almost swear he heard a grunted thanks.

Having collected both boys he bids the heroes a quick goodbye before turning on his heel and leaving the scene. There is something nice and light filling his chest knowing that his son handled a villain all by himself. Hell, he even freed a hostage. He turns right towards the arcade, but a sudden wind blows the gut wrenching smell of sewage towards him, and he equally quickly turns around. No arcade, tonight maybe they will have a movie night.

For a few minutes they walk in silence. Both his son and his friend seem to be mulling something over. He is going to extract details over dinner anyway using a jutsu he perfected in the recent years, 'Family Style: Dinner Interrogation'. Madara has to stiffle a laugh as he imagines himself in full armor performing it on the battlefield. Hashirama would have probably paid good money to see him in an apron. Speaking of that oaf, he misses the bastard a little bit, they were friends after all, even if it was as crooked and screwed up as his son's friendship. Maybe it's something genetic after all, the screwed up friendships that is?

"Izuku, what's up with your eyes?", Katsuki-kun breaks the silence, and Madara's ears perk up.

"What do you mean Kacchan?", Izuku asks back innocently. If he hopes that his dear old dad isn't eavesdropping on their conversation he is dead wrong.

"You have one more of these f*cking droplets on your iris. Like now you have f*cking two", Bakugou spills, and Madara can't suppress the smile spreading on his lips. Two curses in over ten words, Bakugou is making a genuine effort to stay on his good side. Then again, Izuku's Sharingan is developing. That just leaves one question.

"Son, how exactly did you... deal with the villain?", he asks searching for a word better than dispose of, dispatch or even obliterate. His curiosity gets the better of him, since it's still some time till dinner.

"I already met him earlier. Blasted him with a fireball, and now I chidoried him", Izuku answers falling in step on his left. Madara nods pretending to understand the second part, but ultimately his better judgment goes against it. Bakugo takes his right, apparently not very interested in the father-son moment.

"Chidoried?", Madara queries with a slight frown.

"I used lighting release. The sound the jutsu makes reminds me of birds chirping, so I called it Chidori", Izuku mutters quietly enough for his friend not to hear. Madara side eyes his son, and sees the slight burn in the center of his palm, and the two droplets of the yet to be deactivated Sharingan slowly swirl in his eyes. He can't help the smile tugging at his lips as he ruffles his son's hair and admires the blush dusting the boy's cheeks.

"Impressive", he adds, and Izuku beams at him.

Chapter 4: Madara's brutal tutelage

Chapter Text

"Get up sleeping beauty or I am going to get Katsuki-kun in here to give you his explosive kiss", a way too eager voice chimes somewhere over him. Most likely his dad found the stash of coffee Izuku was desperately trying to hide for him. Also the smell of bacon wafting into his room, means that old man is cheating on the low fat diet they agreed on. It's going to kill his heart... someday.

"You cheated", Izuku grunts rubbing at his eyes. Slowly he cracks one open to see that the sun is just peeking over the horizon, "What time is it?", he adds feeling like this crack of dawn wake up is came earlier than his father has warned him yesterday evening. Yet before the old man can get a word out, the doors to his room burst open, and a familiar rhythm of stomping bare feet tells him that Bakugou Dirty-Mouth Katsuki has come in accordance with his father's prophecy.

"Get up you lazy piece of-", Kacchan winds up for what is undoubtedly a storm of curses fit for a sailor not a teenager. Even if said teenager has major anger issues.

"Katsuki", Izuku hears dad cut the blond off, before he can get a swear in.

"You green haired-", Kacchan pipes up again, with cold rage saturating his voice, and Izuku can't help but chuckle, as he sits up.

"Bakugou", Madara's voice turn equally cold, and the blond's breath hitches audibly. Izuku eyes his childhood friend, who looks like he just swallowed a jar of his father's pickled chili peppers.

"GET UP!", Bakugou bellows in his face, settling on the one sentence that does not contain the words sh*t, f*ck, ass or some creative combination of them, before stomping out of the room.

"Better", Madara praises, and follows, leaving Izuku to drag his lazy ass out of bad and later his backpack down to the kitchen.

***

The moment both boys told Madara they were going to be training to get into UA, the man couldn't hold back his joy. Said feeling led to him spouting a rather complex and downright inhuman regimen of training up in the mountains, with no TV, internet, phone, or heavens forbid a soft bed. The boys were going to train like the shinobi of his era did! All right just like that minus the part where you kill your best friend's brother, father or uncle.

So that's where they were directed when he was speeding down the highway, nearly double the speed limit, and humming contently to some catchy tune, sometimes even singing along. Supposedly it was a new pop song about a boy who was hesitating to get married. Regarding that subject Madara never hesitated, he would have fought Hashirama a hundred times over to marry Inko again. However despite his best efforts at a more humane driving style the boys set in mild terror. Both of their chakras swirling with fear, slowly filling the car with very tangible dread. What was there to be afraid of really, he always managed to somehow pass the vehicles and fit in that sharp turn. Besides he is using the Sharingan, there is no way he can crash.

Nevertheless both boys give a loud yelp and Katsuki covers his head with his hands when he narrowly misses tearing off the side of some truck.

"Katsuki-kun. Maybe you would like to go to sleep for the duration of the trip?", he says looking into the rear mirror and seeing the intensely green color on the normally thrill seeking teen.

Their eyes meet, and the blond gives just the most minuscule nod, as Madara narrowly avoids tearing off the other side of his car.

"All right. Good night Katsuki-kun", he says placing a soft genjutsu, and the teen flops down onto his son's lap like a dead fish, already half drooling.

"Dad", Izuku huffs, and Madara swerves in order to avoid a head on crash with a huge truck. Luckily over the years his son grew used to the way he drives, which is, of course, perfectly safe and controlled.

"Sorry much. Izuku can you do other releases but fire and lighting?", he asks. Knowing his sweet son has at least one thing hidden up his sleeve. That lesson Madara learned the hard way, when for nearly two months his son was skillfully cheating him in poker. As unbelievable as it sounds Izuku was doing it without resulting to using chakra. Also it cost him quite a good deal spent on the dentist since they were always betting either candy or chores.

"Hmm... I was working with genjutsu lately", Izuku hums, and Madara catches how one of Izuku's hands is in Katsuki's spiky hair, while his eyes are absentmindedly looking out the window.

"Really. Nothing? That doesn't really sound like you", Madara remarks, slaloming between a couple of slowpokes. He was really hoping that Izuku would try and slip something past him like he always did. Besides Izuku has this weird smug half-smile he always sports when telling a half-truth. He is really going to have to have a chat about honesty in the family and that lying in all right, but to strangers only. "Cough it up, I know you are doing something and I know it's not sex", Madara chimes and watches his son's cheeks turn bright red with horror. Oh yeah, they are going to have to chat about that to...

"Dad!", Izuku huffs in return and Madara chuckles. "If you really want to know do you remember how you talked about this Tobirama guy?", Izuku asks. Of course he remembers, how could he forget that! The most powerful water user ever and in addition to it a bona fide genius!

"Yeah. What about him?", he asks already anticipating that his son has his sights set on the next element.

"I am having difficulty with the water release. I can do it, but it's not that powerful, and with my chakra reserve, I should be able to spew out a small lake, shouldn't I?", Izuku asks, and Madara once again beams with pride. His little boy is so insightful it threatens to make his heart burst. The only sad thing is the irony, Tobirama killed his brother. It would only be fit that his own son wishes to follow into that man's footsteps. Then again Tobirama was a great man, even if slightly ruthless at times. Madara sighs deeply before answering.

"Hmm. That sounds like a tough one. You are an Uchiha and that means affinity for fire, which naturally will make the water more difficult. Would you like to learn more of Tobirama's techniques? You know he was a formidable fighter", Madara offers, despite the sinking feeling in his heart.

"You are not mad?", Izuku asks, and Madara is so surprised he almost hits a tiny car driven by two grannies. As he swerves around them in a wild maneuver, he sees one of them flip him the bird, and gives her a middle finger of his own.

"No! Of course not! I would never be angry at you. Tobirama did kill my brother, and your uncle. But he was also a great leader, a powerful shinobi, and actually had pretty good taste in fashion", Madara muses recalling the furry collar the man was alway wearing.

"I somehow doubt that last one", Izuku mutters. Oh poor child does not yet know what sort of shoes he is going to be wearing for the next couple of months.

"But why were you figuring out his techniques anyway?", Madara asks. It's not that he isn't happy, but maybe Izuku is searching for something more specific.

"Well, if I want to be the number one hero it only makes sense to be a number one shinobi, doesn't it?", the boy answers full of innocence and Madara's heart swells for the second time in ten minutes. Maybe he should really slow down on the bacon and animal fats.

"Than perhaps you would be more interested in his brother, and my best friend Hashirama Senju, also known as the Shinobi God?", Madara asks. He can see his son's eyes light up, and not for a minute does he regret bringing up his best friend. Izuku nods so excitedly that Katsuki stirs, but as soon as his son starts stroking the boy's hair again he settles back to sleep. He is going to have to have a chat with Katsuki about that. But back to business at hand, "So Hashirama was my age. We were great friends since childhood. And he was unique. He was the only person ever to master Wood Release. It's a mixture of Earth Release and Water Release. So I don't know if you will be able to do it and if you will be able to do it at the scale he used it-"

"What scale was that?", Izuku cuts him off excitedly and Katsuki groans nuzzling his head into his son's stomach. He is really going to have to talk with him.

"He could grow a whole forest in the blink of an eye", Madara answers and watches his sons excitement sky rocket. Karma is a cold bitch, but apparently he is going to be nurturing his son's talents in a direction different than he had ever hoped or expected.

"Dad! Can I try that?", Izuku asks nearly vibrating out of his seat, much to his sleeping friend's annoyance.

"Sure. But it's going to be tough to cram two elements in a span of a couple of months you know? Also it's difficulty lies in the fact that the techniques require you to user your life force", he launches into the lecture. he can see his son's fingers itch, for something to write and cuts of mid sentence, "You know Izuku, when we come back I am going to get you a portable tape recorder. So you can take your notes more on the go", he says, and watches those beautiful eyes grow.

***

There is a number of perks to being actually a superhuman compared to the remaining inhabitants of this reality. First of all dragging your ass up a mountain, when it's quite cold and windy and raining is not an issue. Second, you get to watch your son, and his best friend, who is hell bent on proving his superiority trudge behind you with death glares pinned on their faces. Third, you don't need to worry about setting up the campfire, a simple Fire Style jutsu takes care of everything.

And that's how they ended up shielded from the elements in the mouth of a small cave, using the pine branches to cover the entrance, and keep it dry. The trees outside provide enough cover to keep a fire going, and two logs are more than enough for seating arrangements. Madara is sitting on one grilling himself a delicious piece of sausage, and licking his lips at the smell which drifts towards him. It had been a while since he could enjoy a real old school camp out, with all of the perks. Speaking of perks if he read the map right, there should be some wild hot springs somewhere around here.

The boys bicker good naturedly next to him. Katsuki chastising Izuku that his sausage is undercooked and his son finishing it off with a small breath of fire. He can't help the smile that spreads on his face when Bakugou roughly ruffles his son's unkempt hair. It's not as spiky as an Uchiha's normally is, but the heritage is still there, visible under all the softer features he inherited after his mother.

"So Katsuki-kun. Do you like my son?", he fires away, examining his sausage critically, and deeming it worthy of consumption. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his son's scrunched up brows as he watches him with confusion and Katsuki's face as close to panic as it can get.

"I don't hate him!", the boy barks back, assuming his usual scowl, and earning Izuku's undivided attention.

Madara laughs lowly. He already got all he needs to know from one end.

"Izuku do you like Kacchan?", he asks lightly placing the sausage in the bun and adding ketchup on top. It's quite the invention, possible one of the best this world has to offer. Certainly in his top ten anyway. His son's frown grows, and his eyes narrow, as he examines his father for signs of treachery. But it's Bakugou's reaction that makes the whole thing far more interesting, the boy is beet red, and trying to hide his face behind his hands. Oh, how delightful.

"Yeah he is my best friend", his oblivious son beams and Madara can't help but sigh and smile at him warmly. Now they both know that one of them knows something the other doesn't.

***

After dinner, Izuku is tasked with putting the food up in the basket hanging away from the camp site. That leaves Madara plenty of opportunity to do some fathering, for Katsuki-kun this time.

"Sooo, Katsuki", he beams at the boy in his best attempt at a grin, and listens to the soft pops of explosions going off in the teenager's palms.

"I hope you had a good reason to ask these questions old man!", Bakugou barks, and Madara can't help but see a tiny, very blond, very pettable, very angry puppy in him. Was Madara also this adorable when he was younger? Who knows.

"Oh I do. You like my son don't you?", he asks, the smug smile in place, together with his caramel coated tone. Leaving just enough threat in, so that the blond boy does not get any stupid ideas.

Katsuki turns red and kicks his shoe at the ground.

"As I thought. I am not going to forbid you from following your heart. But do so with reason, and know that he has the right to refuse", Madara says nonchalantly. After what he saw in the car and by the fire, he has full reason to believe that Katsuki may want more than Izuku realizes and neither of them is going to be very open about what's going on.

"I am just a friend to him", Katsuki croaks, rubbing at his elbow.

"Relationships that don't start with casual sex, start with a casual friendship. So I'd say you are in a good place for your age", Madara offers and Katsuki seems about ready to scoff before he thinks better. Instead he turns to face him and they lock eyes.

"Thanks old man", the teenager quips before giving a curt bow. Maybe he wouldn't mind these two going out after all.

***

Training Bakugou and Izuku isn't as exhausting as one would think. Putting out forest fires, when they stop pulling punches is. That's why Madara is more than content when his son starts getting the hang of Water Release. Finally he will get to relax in the hot spring he found at the mouth of a cave a ridge over.

Yet his joy is short lived, because the moment Water release is behind them, the boy is already terrorizing him for lessons in Earth Release. And if that wasn't enough Katsuki is now asking for tips on how to win his son's heart. God damn it! He said he is a neutral party in this shindig. When that didn't work Katsuki started pestering him for more sparring matches.

So in order to avoid his talented offspring and his determined friend Madara did what every responsible adult does, he made a run for it. This way he finds himself stepping into the pool of warm water and soaking up with the slightly sulfuric smell invading his nostrils. He lets his muscles relax and adjust to the makeshift seat he created with the Earth Release. Oh, he could stay here forever, or at least until it gets warmer.

"Aaaaahhh", he sighs contently and turns to face the sky. It's gray and cloudy, like one would expect for early winter. He is going to have to get winter supplies from the car soon. Also he will have to share his little secret with the boys who so far used the river for bathing. It's truly a miracle neither has pneumonia yet. The water there must be freezing. Speaking of the deathly duo, he left two teenagers one pining for another, the other completely innocent alone... at camp... "sh*t!", Madara barks rushing out of the water and grabbing his clothes en route. He is halfway to camp when he realizes both went into the nearby town today, which equates a five kilometer walk, one way. And that means...

"Oh he is getting good", Madara laughs, folding his hands into the release seal. Suddenly his memory seems much clearer. He left the camp with boys sitting there, but neither said anything about going to town or training. He laughs dressing slowly, Izuku is getting very good with genjutsu, really good, to put something this subtle into place, very creative.

***

"I didn't know you could hypnotize your old man", Katsuki whispers in his ear, as they watch his father rush out of the water buck ass naked and cussing loudly. Izuku waits patiently for the man to disappear before answering.

"It's an old trick. Some NLP and basic hypnosis", he lies. It comes out far smoother than he expected. It's not exactly like he wants to tell his best friend that he can hypnotize people with a look in the eye, "Come on", he add, slipping out from behind the rock and already ditching his shirt. The cold is getting pretty extreme to go around this poorly dressed. Luckily chakra works miracles in terms of keeping one warm. Izuku glances over his shoulder and catches his friend's eye, as he strips out of his pants and boxers. "Come on. If you are that embarrassed I will go in and turn around dummy", he add knowing full well how to goad Kacchan.

The boy scoffs, but as he turns around, Izuku can hear the sound of clothes being taken off. Cautiously he steps into the water. It's nice and warm. The sensation is so extreme his skin tingles as he slowly submerges into the small pool. The moment he can settle on one of the rocks he sighs contently, letting the warmth soften his senses. He was really starting to miss out on hot showers and baths. Katsuki enters the 'bath' a few moments later. His cheeks are strangely red, but maybe that's from the cold. It's unlikely that Kacchan has a single bone that could feel something as complex as shame or awkwardness in his body.

Izuku laughs and splashes the angry teen, who launches at him in return, only for Izuku to dodge gracefully and splash him again.

"Too slow", he taunts, before getting out of the water and sitting on one of the rocks by the side of the pool. The cold is terrible, so he lathers up his hair and body quickly, before fetching a bucket of warm water and rinsing himself down. His longer hair falls into his eyes, and Izuku splutters a couple of times before jumping back into the pool again, not noticing just how red Katsuki's face got. It's probably just the heat anyway.

***

"All right. Now focus, slow and easy. Imagine mixing your life force with your chakra, and forming life itself. Imagine the exact shape of the wood, piece by piece, splinter by splinter, down to the cellular level", Madara instructs, for the fiftieth time today. His son is holding the damned Snake Seal for possibly the tenth hour. Even Bakugou is done with his share of training for today and is now sitting, watching their fruitless efforts, while grilling a marshmallow over his own explosions. That's going to be one disgusting treat.

Izuku strains again, but once again all he can manage is at best a tiny sapling, which meekly peeks out of the ground. It's better than Madara ever did using his natural abilities. Still, it doesn't exactly seem very threatening.

"All right Izuku. Let's take five", he says, trying his best not to notice the frustrated face his son is nursing. A clamor of heavy boots reaches his ears, and moments later Bakugou storms past him to grip Izuku by the shoulders.

"Get a grip! You could do fire, lightning, water and earth!", he yells at the shorter boy, before turning to Madara, "And you old man, quit treating him like a moron! He has the baddest quirk I have ever heard of!", he yells before shaking Izuku until the boy looks him the eye. "Now funny-eyes. I need a wall of wood around our campsite stat!", he bellows and Madara doesn't know whether to be proud he didn't cuss, or that he got that determined look back on his son's face. Nevertheless it seems like Izuku doesn't have what it takes to use the wood element. After all-

"Wood Release: Circular Wooden Wall", Izuku yells, holding the Snake seal in place, and Madara's jawgrows progressively more slack. One by one, thick rectangular slabs slide out of the ground to form a perfect circle around their campsite.

"May I be damned", Madara gasps, taking in the view. He paces over to the wall slowly, and runs his hand over the beautiful, deep honey colored wood, "Majestic", he whispers, and hisses, when his finger catches a splinter.

"Now that's how you do that Wood Release sh*t! Less thinking more doing!", Bakugou yells slapping his short crush on the back loudly, "Now we can eat. I am f*cking starving", the blond croons, stomping away with a poorly hidden grin. This friendship is really too much like his and Hashirama's.

Nevertheless it's high time, after all the exam is barely a a few days away. He looks at his son, at the wild green hair, which are in dire need of seeing a pair of scissors, at the plain freckled face, and the wide eyes taking in what they just did. Izuku takes a couple of steps back, before forming the seal again, and producing a circular stump and three smaller ones.

"Look dad, I made a table!", the boy beams with unspoken pride.

"I see, now you can go and run IKEA out of business", Madara muses, stepping over to Izuku to ruffle the boy's hair. Maybe he can have the best of both worlds.

Chapter 5: A decision is made

Chapter Text

Being a private investigator is a great job. Basically you can do all the things the heroes can, but you get none of the responsibility. Of course you also get none of the publicity, so the pay isn't that great. But when you are the best private investigator around, on retainer by the most prestigious hero school in the country you get to have a very decent lifestyle. That and you get the added benefit of an occasional favor, like getting to watch the exam with the rest of the UA faculty. It's a perfect arrangement for him and yet Madara can't help the slight pressure in his chest seeing his Izuku chase down a three pointer and cut it to pieces with a Chidori, only to melt the next one with the Uchiha fireball. His little boy has grown so much, and is closer than ever to fulfilling his dream of becoming a great hero. But what about Madara's dreams? Back in the day he wanted to be the strongest shinobi, but now he doesn't care for that. He wants what's best for his son, he wouldn't mind grandkids, and that's kind of it. But what about fame and fortune? The job of a private investigator gets that last one handled. On the other hand fame was always a very tempting concept. Nedzu-sensei has offered to let him take the hero exams without any prep, allowing him to effectively work as a pro hero, not just UA's private guard dog. Madara doesn't remember how many times he turned down the offer, and yet seeing his son, panting and tired but happier than ever is somehow far more persuasive than he would like to acknowledge.

So maybe, just maybe he will finally take the headmaster up on his proposition. Madara shakes his head in disbelief at the thought. He is the best person to handle impossible cases, why would he want anything more? His eyes turn back to the huge screens lining the wall. For a moment they linger on his son's blue sweats with the clan emblem neatly sewn onto his back, and the toeless shoes which always draw people's attention. But a moment later he finds himself following a familiar, explosive blond. It's no surprise he is somehow always maintaining the line of sight with his son. Madara chuckles lightly remembering their last conversation. Izuku was out getting some snacks from the local convenience store, while Katsuki stomped into his office with purpose written all over his brain. Of course it turned out that purpose was to bug him again about how to best get Izuku to like him. It was also a particularly grueling day at work, so Madara snapped at the boy, that he should defect from the village, become a rogue shinobi and then do glorious battle lasting a whole day thus thoroughly confusing the angry blond, but getting him out of his hair in the process.

Now, following Katsuki's movements on the high resolution monitors he can see the blood red eyes darting to Izuku every few moments. Love changes a man, and ain't Madara himself the best example.

***

Izuku clasps his hands into the Tiger Seal, and takes in a deep breath before releasing what seems like the seventh technique in that many minutes and turning a very interesting piece of machinery into metallic slush. His cheeks sting, undoubtedly burned from all the fire usage. Than again, his dad warned him to not overplay his hand. So he was sticking with what everyone already knew about, his fire and his lighting, keeping his Sharingan unnoticeable by wearing darkened goggles.

Sprinting down the street he forms the Monkey Seal and cuts clean through a one pointer which popped out of the back alley, before taking off the head of another with a well timed roundhouse kick. Luckily the grueling training in the mountains has prepared him for intense, long lasting fights. Both Katsuki and his dad made damn well sure that he wasn't slacking of. Izuku keeps on charging down the side alleys when he feels the ground tremble. There are cries of panic and Izuku can sense everyone's chakra go completely haywire. The ground shakes again, and without thinking he charges out towards the main street, only to witness something he was 100% not prepared for. A fifteen story high behemoth, and a girl laying in its path.

"That's the zero pointer?", he mutters numbly, watching the huge machine, swat, and narrowly miss some of the students. The words of Present Mic reverberate in his mind, about how taking on the zero pointer is a mute effort. It's not mute it's downright impossible! The girl's leg seems trapped under the rubble and as the mechanical behemoth slowly rolls towards her the calls for panic grow more and more frantic. Yet a quick look around tells Izuku there is no one but him to help, and before he can think better, before the rational part of his brain can take the wheel he starts sprinting towards the giant heap of gears and tumblers. As he runs his brain works overtime to come up with a solution, but nothing other than removing the rock and getting the hell out of there sounds remotely reasonable.

Seconds later he skids to a halt, and tries prying the rubble off of her leg, as she urges him to make a run for it. "Be quiet", he grunts pulling with all his might. His hands slip and he staggers back, landing on his ass. "Stay calm", he tells her seeing the panic bloom in her huge brown eyes and ignoring the reflection of the nearing machine of doom. They are in the middle of an empty road, and running is impossible. Feeling frustration and panic slowly boil to the surface Izuku pulls of his goggles, and hears the girl gasp when she takes in the red of his eyes. "Stay calm", he says in a level tone struggling to keep his own fear in check, "I will stop this thing", he says, looking her dead in the eye and not quite believing these words fall from his mouth.

As he gets up to face his opponent his hands are trembling. A deep breath does little to calm his down, but let's him more clearly asses what he is facing. The robot slowly rolling their way is gargantuan! It's fifteen bloody stories high. Neither Chidori, nor the Great Fireball will cut it, nor any of his standard techniques, and that leaves just the big gun, or rather the backyard pantzerfaust he was saving for a rainy day. And by any reasonable definition right now he was facing a downpour.

"Dumbass get out of there!", Katsuki hollers from somewhere far away.

"Screw this", Izuku mumbles, feeling the sweat coat his palms, as they numbly slide through the memorized seals. He remembers how his dad told him that this may feel uncomfortable. He described the technique as painful and volatile, and only to be approached with utmost caution. But no amount of theory could prepare him for the roaring feeling of his chakra rushing through his body. It's like he himself is on fire, and every breath he takes is made of lead.

"I am Izuku Uchiha. Beware the power of my family's bloodline!", he bellows, seeing the machine turn it's red shining eyes on him. 'Do or die!', his mind screams, as his fingers finish the sixth seal. The burning sensation encases his throat, as his lungs brim with molded chakra.

"Fire style: Majestic Fire Destruction!", he shouts and inhales the air greedily, letting it pool and scorch his insides. The robot raises its arm to swat him like an annoying fly, just as he releases the biggest technique he has ever used, the one every Uchiha before him, save for a select few, only dreamed of. The flame rushes forward, with a deafening roar, a cone of white hot heat the size of a building engulfing everything in its path. The forces of destruction clash, sending powerful shock-waves of hot air down the streets. The blaze's force is strong enough to push the huge machine back, and Izuku keeps the pressure on, desperate to save the girl trapped behind him, be it the last thing he does. He takes a shaky step forward, his muscles screaming in agony, and feels his Sharingan fade out as he pours everything he has got into melting the enormous machine before him. This is bad, in a single gust, he pushes the remains of fire out in a rippling tide. The flames dwindle, and slowly clear to reveal a mangled and molten image of what was once a masterpiece of robotics. Izuku beams it a lopsided smile, feeling joy and pride overtake him, just before collapsing. His muscles feel as though someone stuck them in the freezer. His head is swimming, as he turns over onto his back, to watch the half melted mechanical avatar of destruction lean dangerously over them and catch a lungful of air. His cheeks feel as though someone just literally fried them. And he did all of that just to be crushed... Being out of chakra sucks, being out of chakra and being about to be crushed sucks more. Izuku takes a deep breath readying himself for the inevitable death, and listening to the slow creek of metal. It's only then that he feels a featherlight caress and suddenly his body looses all of its weight. He did hear about the white light and the tunnel, but weightlessness wasn't on the list, and why is the world above him moving? In a daze he looks up to see the girl he was supposed to save pull him, suspended in the air, out of the danger zone. She is half running, half limping, there is something admirable about her determination. But he can't get over the shame that he was supposed to be the cool one.

"Darn", he mutters, under his breath before passing out. He doesn't really care for the remainder of the time he could have used on the test, it's not like he would have the strength after this stunt.

***

There is something cold on his forehead, a compress, he notes, as his senses slowly start up again. He remembers the exertion of the practical exam and flinches when burn ointment is rubbed on his scorched cheeks. A quiet laugh reaches his ears, and he can feel a dab of the thick lotion on his nose, and then another lauder snicker.

"Dad", Izuku croaks, surprised to find his throat a suitable living ground for Bedouins. How long was he out?

"Shh.. My little flamethrower", Otosan chuckles from above, and changes his compress. His muscles are still sore, and stiff, he is never going to use that much chakra again, consequences be damned. This whole thing was a stupid idea, he should have simply put up some sort of a wall, or make a dome around them or something.

"Not funny", he mumbles, as a glass is pushed into his hand. Izuku drinks greedily, coughing a couple of times, when the water goes down the wrong hole. His father has his smug smirk, which always hints at Izuku doing something wrong, and that this something will come back to take a bite out of his ass. It is also a rule that his dad won't tell him what's up until the bite is actually taken, and the thing tries to take one more. "You are not telling me", he affirms.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't. But I will make an exception. You did something very brave, and very stupid, but you saved that girl", his father says slowly, as though he wants every single word sinking in and committed to memory. Dad runs a course hand through his hair, his fingers lingering on some of the more singed bangs before pushing him back onto the bed, "You were out for a whole day", he adds nonchalantly, answering the question Izuku wanted to ask, "Also Fire Style: Majestic Fire Destruction should be at least ten times larger", his father adds flatly. Izuku looks up at his face and notes the tightlipped smile of pride, but can't quite figure out if that's because he actually managed to pull of the attack, or because he saved that girl.

"But I am proud of you son", they say in unison, and Izuku laughs softly, while his father shoots him an amused look, "I hope that girl is okay", Izuku muses and his father perks up immediately. Oh no, he has done it now.

"So when can I expect grand kids?", his father cuts in with a waggle of eyebrows before he can run any semblance of damage control, "After all you did save her life. She should owe you something"

"I am sorry, saving someone's life does not imply they will bare my offspring!", Izuku shoots back. Lately his dad is all about grandkids, he is just 45 they have got time for that! "Besides, after I saved her, she saved me. So we are even", he quips looking into his father's warm natured eyes.

"Oh then I guess you won't be needing this", the sneaky man says holding up a piece of paper with a string of digits penciled on it, "You know she was very pretty. Maybe Bakugou will want to call her. Then again he did call her round face, which as far I know is not all that good a pick up line. Oh, and nearly flipped after learning what you did. Said he will, I quote, 'blow you a f*cking new one', end quote", Izuku watches the smug smile dance on his father's lips, and ponders his options. The girl seemed nice, he sort of hoped she would make it into UA. But if he did take that number he would never hear the end of it. On the other hand if he didn't he would be missing out on potentially making a new friend. It's hard to meet new people when your best friend has the personality of a barrel of gun powder, and this sounds like a real good option, if she managed to put up with Kacchan over his unconscious body.

Izuku huffs with annoyance. His dad tricked him again, "Fine can I please have her number?", he asks holding out his hand for the piece of paper. His father's expression lights up like a Christmas tree, this man is sometimes more of child than he ought to be.

"Oh I already punched it into your phone. Her name is Ochako Uraraka", Madara muses with that smug smile which has probably gotten him into more fights than the man cares to admit to.

"You are unbearable", the green haired boy scoffs, but it contains no venom and soon enough his dad is laughing gleefully, joking about his genius. The carefree atmosphere persists for a couple of minutes. They talk about the faces the teachers pulled when Izuku unleashed his attack technique on the behemoth. Izuku watches Madara gesticulate wildly, as he recounts just how large Eraserhead's eyes grew, or how Midnight yelled something about the power of youth. They have a good laugh until his father suddenly grows somber.

"Listen. You must not exhaust your chakra completely or you will die. You came pretty darn close and I don't know any healing techniques. All my youth I spent fighting, never bothered to learn to heal. So don't do anything too reckless, because I can't save you from that", his father's tone is very serious. Izuku can here the unsaid message, 'I don't want to lose you'.

Izuku gulps, learning the little bit of his dad's past, but that doesn't help the lump forming in his throat. His father's past is largely a mystery to him, they talk about it every now and then, but always about people Madara knew, never about the man himself, and when they do it's only in bits and pieces, as though Madara was ashamed of who he was.

"Promise me you will be more careful from now on. In return I will teach you to better control your chakra, so that this never ever happens again", his father demands. Izuku nods, complacent and tired. The exhaustion, once again seeps into his body, and in no time at all he starts slipping back into the dreamless slumber. He is nearly under when he feels a slight kiss being planted on his cool forehead and the comforter being pulled all the way under his chin.

"Sleep well my son. May you have beautiful dreams", his father's soothing voice sounds in the room, just before the doors click shut.

***

He drinks sporadically. Not because he doesn't enjoy the finer pleasures of life, but because it is not a habit a shinobi ought to cultivate. And yet tonight Madara finds himself in a bar accompanied by a row of colorful shots of a barman's selection. He couldn't figure out what he would want to get wasted on, so settling on a little bit of everything seemed a very logical choice.

He is through the fourth of eight shots. It's bitter and strong, with a lemon aftertaste and does nothing to stop him replaying the memories of the day for the umpteenth time. There are tears in his eyes, when he remembers seeing his son collapse, and then barely get pulled out of there alive by that Uraraka. He recalls how he barreled down to the entrance to the mock city, and paced nervously until Recovery Girl told him to get a grip. It was possibly the scariest moment in his recent life. On better days Madara Uchiha faced robbers, muggers, and drug dealers. On his worse he would battle Yakuza, drug dealers, murderers and rapists. But nothing compared to what he felt at the thought of losing his only son. Madara downs another drink, this one is blue, sweet and tastes of oranges. It reminds him of the fact that he did not do a job good enough at preparing Izuku. He recalls the blinding horror that drove him through the streets in fractions of seconds, and to the side of two teenagers leaning over his barely breathing son. Izuku was so pale, he seemed hardly alive, and if not for that tiny reservoir of chakra he had sealed away shortly after the boy started exploring his powers, he would have been. That precaution saved the Izuku's life, and he put it back in place as soon as there was enough chakra to do so.

Madara can only guess how scared Katsuki was. The boy told Uraraka she should have died rather than endanger others with her idiocy. He was vile, and distraught, and he was nothing like the teen Madara knew. Normally Katsuki was just prickly and temperamental, but back then it felt like he was saying the truth, like he meant every word. Bakugou would have rather seen Uraraka run over by the behemoth than Izuku laying there deathly pale and motionless. But the girl was right, she saved Izuku's life. Madara sighs heavily, he knows what he has to do to rectify his mistakes.

"I will become a hero. I will protect my son", he mutters into the sixth drink, something red and smelling of strawberries. He will take the hero exam, and build a renown agency where Izuku can reach his full potential. He will help his son blossom into a true shinobi and the greatest hero this world has ever seen. From now on thisis his ninja way.

Chapter 6: A silent meeting

Chapter Text

The slick sound of the razor sliding across the leather belt is music to Madara's ears. It is his second favorite part of the morning, first being sharing breakfast with his sleepy son. As a proper father he has some time ago noticed that Izuku is slowly but surely growing sideburns, and a tiny green mustache to boot, and like every incomplete beard it looks horrifying. So it isn't much of a surprise to him, when his little ball of sunshine walks into the bathroom that morning with an extremely serious face.

"Dad", Izuku acknowledges, while Madara inspects the edge of the razor critically. He could never quite grasp why anyone would use these one-time shaving machines, which maybe don't cost all that much, but get used up, hold no ritual, and are prone to getting yourself cut with. When he decides the blade is sharp enough he answers.

"Yes son?", it is their typical morning greeting, which is usually followed by Izuku trying to wake himself up by splashing his face in the other faucet. Shortly after they moved here he arranged the bathroom to have two faucets. Some might argue it a waste of space, but if he is living in a house anyway he might as well furnish it as he pleases. Besides Izuku wouldn't complain about Madara blocking the bathroom that way.

However his son breaks the comfort of the routine with a question he really hoped the boy would ask for some time now, "Dad I think I would like to learn how to shave. Can you teach me?". It's not so much a question as a statement, since most of what Izuku knows was at one time or another imparted by Madara, from cooking to playing chess, so shaving was completely logical. He remembers his own father teaching him to shave, he had to learn that darn thing using a kunai!

Madara deposits the blade on the the sink, and picks up the soap and the shaving brush. In comfortable, slow motions he produces foam, while looking over his son's face. Sure enough the sideburns reach already halfway down his jaw, and the whole of his facial hair seems unusually developed for a fifteen year old.

"You seem to be taking after grandpa Midoriya", he muses recalling the elderly gentleman who died shortly after Izuku's birth. The man was endowed with the bushiest, densest, most unkempt and longest beard Madara had ever seen. His son scrunches up his nose in response. "I will. But I will teach you to shave the correct way", Madara answers, depositing the brush and soap on the counter.

"And what is the correct way?", Izuku mocks. In the beginning it took some persuasion to get the more peculiar behaviors or clothes to stick, but now the teen seems to take it in stride, and simply chucks it up to 'family tradition'.

"I will teach you the straight shave", Madara sends his son a crooked smile, watching the tiny sparks of curiosity dance in the sea colored eyes.

***

When Izuku returns from school that same day he finds in the bathroom a new set of shaving supplies. Apparently his father made good on his promise to help out. He makes his way to his side to his washing basin and examines the items around it. There is his toothbrush, and hairbrush, but the new things seem almost identical to his dad's, save for a few little details. The first thing that catches his eye is an almost fluffy, light brush. Izuku runs his thumb through the hair hesitantly. The handle is jet black, but made of wood not plastic, giving the whole item an old school feel. However as soon as he picks it up his eyes slide over a long slim object, his very own razor. Izuku puts the brush back, and picks up the blade with slight hesitation. He flicks it open with his thumb and examines the smooth blade. In the mirror polish he can see his own green eye peering at him with curiosity, and just for the fun of it switches back to the Sharingan to watch the two droplets spin lazily across the red iris. The handle is made of dark, waxed wood, and the family's crest is embedded on the very bottom, giving the item just the slightest personalized hint. Izuku turns the blade around and notices two tiny letters etched into the steel right by the handle, IU.

"Izuku Uchiha", he whispers examining the fancy cursive more closely. His dad really had to go above and beyond to get this so quickly. Either that or he had this in store for a number of years now. Most likely the latter, Otosan was always prepared even for the most unconditional of situations.

"How do you like the razor?", his father's soft voice snaps Izuku out of the reverie, and he nearly lops his fingers off closing it, making his father snicker. When exactly did the man sneak up on him?

"It's beautiful", he chokes out, and sees the satisfied gleam in Madara's eyes.

"I am happy you like it. You will be the biggest badass on the block shaving like that!", his father adds giving him a thumbs up, and making Izuku laugh.

***

As far as first times go, this is by far the most stressful. Luckily a proficient use of the Sharingan gives one learning such skills a lot of advantage. Nevertheless to put a razor sharp... razor to one's skin is not exactly that relaxing. These thoughts accompany Izuku as his dad runs through the theory of shaving. That is soften the skin and the hair, lather, sharpen, pull the skin, shave, use aftershave, look awesome. Izuku isn't quite sure about that last part. But with the suddenly sprouting beard he looks like a damn hybrid of a kid and wolverine, so pretty much anything is better. Suddenly his father cuts off and they lock eyes.

"You worried about this?", Madara asks simply, as though he just read his mind. A pair of dark eyes seem to drill holes into his soul, leaving him not much choice but to tell the truth.

"Sort of", Izuku mumbles, and looks down at his bare feet. His dad was very excited about teaching him to shave and now he is spoiling it.

"Tell you what. How about you watch how I shave using the Sharingan. This will help you get at least some of the moves down, and then I will help you with those bushy sideburns", his dad encourages and pulls the bushy hair slightly. Last evening Izuku managed to get his hands on some of his grandpa's photos. With his miniature statue and beard tucked behind his belt, the elderly man looked like a dwarf. If that was anything to go by, he would be shaving daily in no time at all, and that meant he needed to get proficient quickly. "How about that?", Otosan asks with a genuine smile, Izuku sees as seen as he raises his eyes.

He nods in agreement, and dad turns to the faucet. The man turns the water so hot it is steaming, before he pushes a small towel under it and lets it soak. Meanwhile Izuku activates his Sharingan and trains his eyes on his father's movements.

"See the first step is to soften the hair. You need something very hot and moist or wet. I usually just take a shower. But for educational purposes, I will show you how it's done with a towel", the man instructs, "But while the towel is heating up you can use the time to make some foam. For that I use soap, but you can use anything you feel comfortable with", Madara lectures, while peeling a few chips of soap into a small bowl, adding water and then mixing, until a thick white foam forms. "See that should more or less be the result. Not to thick, neither too foamy, it's not too easy to get it right though", his father says in light tone, before putting the bowl on the counter, and pulling the soaked cloth from under the tap. He wrings it slightly, before putting it on his face and tilting his face back. "Sif life fat for a faple mifutes", a slightly muffled voice comes from under the rag.

"Will I always need the Sharingan to shave?", he asks. It could get quite problematic on class trips. Uraraka seems to have made it into UA and Bakugou too. And neither is exactly sure what his eyes do. For a good number of reasons his father and him agreed it's best to keep some of his abilities secret. Especially that he will be battling his classmates at the Sports Festival, so it's best if none of them know everything.

"No. Fouple fist timef", a muffled response comes from under the cloth, followed by a long, relaxed sigh. Izuku waits patiently observing his father, who seems to rather enjoy himself despite the perspective of putting a blade to his own throat. Every time he sees his dad he is a bit surprised though. The man is built like a hero, every muscle brims with strength and definition, and yet all of his body is covered in scars. Whatever his dad was doing before he had him must have been very dangerous or very reckless. That last part at least would explain who he got his own crazy ideas after. Nevertheless isn't his dad just a bit lonely? He recalls he has never seen Otosan go on a date. Perhaps he should figure something out for his father, since he is going to be more busy with schoolwork and that would mean less time for dad. However every time they talk is seems that Madara is still in love with his mom, and can't move past her. Izuku frowns mulling the thoughts over, and trying to come up with a way to bring the topic up during one of their dinners.

The minutes pass and Madara pulls the cloth from his face, revealing a flush, but seemingly younger man. Izuku can see the thin line of stubble around his jaw, and hints of mustache, and to his surprise they don't make even a complete beard.

"Now that the hair has softened, you can lather up. Make sure not to smear the foam over your lips too, because the taste is horrid", Madara explains and Izuku nods eagerly, as he watches his dad spread the foam over his jaw and under his nose.

"Once that is done. You can sharpen the razor. I have this big leather belt for that, and that's the best method. But any leather belt will do really, even the one you wear to school", Izuku watches the slow moves of pulling the razor with the grain a couple of times and then his father gives it a simple blow, before positioning it just above his skin.

"Now the part that most novices omit is that you need to slightly pull your skin, make it taut", Madara says using his fingers to stretch the skin up his temple. "Never put the razor to the skin. It should glide straight away. Otherwise you will cut yourself", Otosan instructs, and gives a demonstration. The blade slides smoothly and with a couple of practiced strokes he is done with his cheeks. "Remember to rinse, so that no dirt accumulates on the razor", he says, and quickly deals with the sparse mustache and chin. "Now the neck is the scary part, unless you remember that straight skin is easy to shave. So you can always turn your head, or look up, to make the job simpler", Madara finishes this part in a couple of broad strokes.

"For a perfect finish apply aftershave and you are all done", he adds wiping down the remaining foam around his ears and nose, "Your turn", the man hums beaming at his son, who has suddenly grown visibly pale.

***

Madara watches Izuku copy his movements, and can't help having an epiphany. Today it is the first shave. Soon it is going to be the first kiss. Then a first girlfriend or boyfriend, though Madara wouldn't mind a girlfriend. Izuku shows surprisingly little inclination for either despite Katsuki's and now Ochako's pestering. Before he knows it, he will be nursing a grandson or granddaughter, while Izuku is off saving the world. Izuku's palms work, and Madara remembers the first time these tiny hands gripped his finger, or how he walked the boy to day care, and a soft pressure forms in his chest. It's all going too fast for him, he would like more time with Izuku, a little more of this with his precious son, who mumbles the instructions he gave earlier.

Something warm slips from his eye, and Madara wipes it away quickly, before Izuku can spot anything. Just yesterday Nedzu-sensei told him the designated date and place of his exam. It would be at USJ, at the same time his son would be there for one of his heroics classes. The Smartass Bear was so bold, to claim that Madara will undoubtedly pass with flying colors, so maybe he could have the students watch. Well, he wasn't wrong about him passing, but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted his son seeing him fighting someone ruthlessly. In just a couple of days Izuku would start UA. In just three years he would be done with it, and in permanent peril.

Madara grits his teeth biting back from telling Izuku to be careful. He knows the boy is, and he doesn't need to be overprotective, or else he won't learn. Madara watches Izuku put the razor to his skin at just a slightly too big an angle, and yelp. Ooops, to late for warnings now, however the lesson was probably learned.

***

"When the hell did you cut your cheek dumbass?!", Bakugou scowls at the bandaid on Izuku's face and the boy can't help but grin at him. Not half an hour ago he finished one of the most frightening experiences in his life, and as his father put it, his second rite of passage into adulthood. Everything went smoothly, he even managed to get the neck and chin easily, but at one point he got too relaxed and the angle of the razor got him. Luckily the cut was not too deep, so he did manage to finish up shaving all by himself. What his father did not tell him however was that aftershave contained alcohol, so he was hissing for a good five minutes as his sensitive, freshly shaved skin took the rage of the fiery liquid. "What's with the smell dumbass?!", Kacchan added, sniffing the air about him, and Izuku couldn't help but laugh, when the boy's face turns red. However the next moment a pair of large hands grip his cheeks and a pair of blood red eyes seem to scrutinize his skin.

"How soft", Bakugou mumbles under his breath, completely engrossed in whatever it is he is looking at.

"Dad taught me to shave", Izuku explains plainly, swatting away Katsuki's sweaty palms. He notices the budding hair on Katsuki's jaw, and can already see the pieces of his plan forming. Maybe one day Kacchan would let himself be shaved with a straight edge. Maybe he could even exchange it for one of Katsuki's legendary massage's the boy's mom kept talking about. Izuku smiles to himself at the thought. After all, lately his neck has been a bit stiff.

***

His shoes scrape the cobblestones lining the slim alleys. Fifteen minutes ago Izuku left to hang out with Katsuki, so he has at least a couple hours before they grow hungry. It always annoyed him how there are no trees here, only concrete slabs lining the ground. It is depressing to meet her in such a dreary place. Madara takes a left, and feels every happy memory of his wife weigh him down. He's just a short walk from the place of their weekly meetings, and yet his palms won't stop sweating.

A moment later he stops before a small tombstone, with the words 'Inko Uchiha' etched into it. As per the tradition of his homeland he places a single white lily, as per tradition of hers he lights incense and pours water into the bowl. Her parents wanted him to bury her in the family grave, but he couldn't bare the thought of her name being erased from everything but a couple of photos and his memory.

As always a stray tear slips out of his eye, and he wipes it away quickly before anyone can see him crying. He still doesn't like showing weakness, luckily his son didn't inherit that character flaw. Madara kneels down to be at eye level with the tomb.

"Hi Inko. I miss you", he greets her, and wipes angrily at his cheek as more unwelcome tears slip loose, "You know today was the first time I helped our son shave. It was...", he trails off unable to find the words to describe the mixture of sadness, longing and joy that settles in his throat, "He made a small cut on his cheek", Madara confesses, almost hearing the chiding tone when his wife once noticed him cut himself with a razor, "Right here", he adds sliding a finger across his cheek. "You know he is a great kid, and he will be the best hero. He got into UA, but I told you that already", he says in a strangled voice. "And I think I am doing my best to keep him safe".

A few beats of silence pass, as Madara directs his prayer to his wife's soul. He hopes that there really is an afterlife, and she can hear him.

"Inko. Remember when I told you about my decision to become a hero? You undoubtedly do. The date of the exam is already set. You'd be so happy, since you were always yanking my chain about how I should aim for the best", he says almost evenly, before the pressure building up in his throat finally gives way. Tears start flowing freely from his eyes, and Madara covers him mouth with his hand, muffling the escaping sobs. His over hand slides down the cold grave, clutching at it as though he could summon Inko back to life. He would have given a world to see her again. He would have conquered an infinite number of them if it brought her back, but in this world there was no power which could revive the dead. He knows, he tried.

***

"Izuku, what are we doing at a graveyard?", Katsuki whispers. He is not overly fond of places like that, they always give him the creeps. Izuku turns to him with that adorable smirk of his, and he is once again conflicted between blowing the boy's head off and kissing him. Nevertheless he settles on the third option, doing nothing. For the last few months Bakugou Katsuki is living in constant internal conflict over his cowardice, but now is certainly no time for confessions. Not in such a dreary place.

When they walked here Izuku looked doubtful and for some reason he was holding a flower. Maybe there is a deeper reason for which this green haired brat is dragging him here. Izuku takes a left, and they walk a couple of minutes in silence. All of the graves look the same, apart from the one at the end of the row, which is made of pitch black granite. A few moments later they stop right in front of it and Katsuki sees the same crest Izuku is wearing on the back of his shirt everyday. The green haired boy kneels and adds his flower to the one already resting there. From where he is standing Katsuki can't see the his friend's face, but he is sure that the boy is crying. The worst part is he has absolutely no clue how to help. Katsuki's eyes slide over the tomb, and his heart drops when he reads 'Inko Uchiha'. He vaguely recalls the one time Izuku did mention his mother. They were very young, five or so. Izuku said that she was very far away and her name was Inko. How did he not put that together for so long?! There is an uncomfortable feeling of guilt, and anger pooling in his gut. He shouldn't be here at all! Katsuki makes to take a step back, but before he can, a firm hand clasps around his wrist and pulls him to his knees. He is now at eye level with Izuku, who for some reason doesn't let him go. Instead the boy's eyes are fixed on the tombstone, streams of tears flowing down his cheeks, despite incessant wiping.

"Hi mom", Izuku says quietly, and something inside Katsuki cracks again. He can feel tears stinging his eyes, but can't look away from the scene playing out in front of him. Only now does he realize that as rowdy, and rude as his relationship with his parents is, he is truly lucky to have the both of them. "Mom this is Katsuki he is my best friend. I wanted you to meet him for some time now, but never quite got the courage to bring him here", Izuku's voice wavers and he can see the boy's chin quiver. If it had been anyone else he would call them pathetic, but he would never dare use that word now. "He likes spicy food, and loud music, and he swears like a sailor, and he is kind of grumpy all the time", for a moment the smaller boy falls quiet, as though he was imagining something, but soon enough picks up where he left off, "But he is really smart and deep down I think he cares. Soon we will be going to UA to become heroes, because you always told dad to aim for being the best, I think you would want that for me too", the words are wobbly, and every single one chokes Katsuki further. It's an unfamiliar feeling. He ponders what someone normal would do, would they hug Izuku, rub soothing circles into his back, tell him it is all right? How can he be this stupid?! Katsuki feels the fingers of his free hand dig into the concrete slabs, as his frustration turns into fuming micro explosions.

"Kacchan would you like to say something. I know it's weird, but it's important... to me", Izuku says, and Katsuki's heart stops. He doesn't know what he should say or do. He feels utterly lost and it both terrifies and infuriates him. With his free hand he rubs at his eyes, before this stupid nerd can see the tears. He takes a couple of steadying breaths, letting his eyes clear, but the dull ache in his chest doesn't stop for some reason.

Katsuki gulps loudly before turning to the stone once again. He doesn't know what the woman looked like, who she was. It's the one thing that Izuku never talked about, and he simply assumed that both him and his father were on terrible terms with her. "Hello Uchiha-san. It's a pleasure to meet you. Izuku and I, we are going to be heroes", he blurts out in barely a whisper. He turns to look at Izuku again, and the boy is smiling softly through a river of tears streaming from his eyes. They spend a couple of minutes of silence, Izuku mumbling his prayer, and Katsuki fighting the pain settling in his chest. How could have he been this blind?!

Chapter 7: A teacher of two

Chapter Text

Izuku is shaking like a leaf when they are walking to school. The good thing about his father's job as a private investigator is that the hours are very flexible. So against both his opinion and better judgment Otosan decided to accompany Kacchan and him. Now if only he could get rid of that weird cinnamon smell that has been invading his nostrils for the last couple of minutes. Katsuki is trailing closely by, grumbling about how being walked to school by an old man is an embarrassment. In turn Izuku is nervously fidgeting with his tie pin. It is a miniature of their family crest, the same that is on his father's black tie. They actually wasted the majority of morning trying to get his tie tying skills on track. Nevertheless he feels nervous. He woke up extra early, and despite that failed miserably to get his hair in any semblance of order, supposedly this is an Uchiha thing. That theory seems confirmed by the spiked, lengthy mane, his own father sports. On top of that he somehow forgot that wearing toeless shoes is not exactly normal. Mostly people wouldn't comment on that dubious tradition, but in middle school he met a couple of assholes who snarked about it. For some reason the next day they were nursing a number of purplish bruises covered by numerous burns, and scattered like bugs whenever they saw him around. How that came to be still remained a mystery to him. But he was digressing again. After he finished up with shaving he had to triple check that he packed everything, and then he couldn't even get a single piece of omelet down, no matter how mouthwatering its smell was. So now his stomach was rumbling while a delicious, obnoxious smell was driving him crazy. Izuku sneezes violently, when the aroma of cinnamon grows in strength, maybe this is some sort of allergy. When he was younger he used to have some problems with pollen, maybe they are acting up again?

Eventually they make it to the gate. He says his goodbyes quickly, and runs after Kacchan, who despite stomping past his dad with not much more than a 'Bye old man', is waiting for him patiently.

Their great adventure is about to start. And he can't help the excitement coursing through his body, as he chases his grumpy friend.

***

As a sensor Madara has had a number of strange experiences with chakra detection, but smelling like a damned apple pie definitely takes the cake. The moment his son turns the man starts craning his neck, looking for whoever is responsible for this exceptionally delicious aroma. If only he could get his own pies smelling like that he could finally win the neighborhood baking contest. Luckily his search is short lived, as the corner is rounded by a rather tall, but compared to Izuku anybody is rather tall, boy with a mane of purplish hair and dead beat eyes. He seems closer to the state of a zombie than a human, but it's definitely his fault that the investigator has to keep from drooling.

Madara watches the boy tap away at his phone patiently, while taking a sip of his coffee from time to time. The damned thing is so strong that it overpowers the cinnamon smell hanging thickly in the air. Madara has had his share of the nectar of gods, his son took to forbidding him, but this stuff seems to have been brewed by Coffeina, the goddess of coffee, herself.

"Now that is interesting", he mutters to himself slowly stepping into the boy's path. The youngster takes evasive maneuvers with surprising agility, but there is no outwitting the most powerful shinobi in this world. The boy dodges again, but this time stops just short of bumping into Madara and covering him in the heavenly brew.

"You mind?", the blue haired boy snaps with just a hint of annoyance. His eyes don't leave the screen though, but that just allows Madara to survey the bizzare thing happening in front of him for a while longer before answering.

"Actually I do. Private investigator Madara Uchiha, may we talk for a minute?", he gives the usual formula which almost always gets him the attention he wants.

The boy clicks the phone off, and slips it into his pocket just before fixing him with a pair of purple eyes, adorned with bags as dark as the coffee he is drinking. "What is it investigator?", he asks, and takes a sip of his beverage. Compliant, that's good, and bad, depending on what is desired, still Madara would much rather see this boy as rebellious.

"I need you to answer a couple of questions. First what is your quirk?", Madara inquires, pulling out an old fashioned notepad. It matches the long burgundy overcoat he bought long ago.

The boy's eyes remain fixed on him, and his expression is completely unreadable, save for the little gesture of scratching the back of his head. "Brainwashing", he mutters, and his eyes dart around nervously. No wonder, most people would be running for the hills if someone said that he could make them do anything his soul desired. Luckily Madara's instincts were saying this one has a good heart, though he could be wrong.

"Would you mind demonstrating it on me?", Madara asks. The smell of cinnamon floods his nostrils momentarily, and he can't keep the smug half smile off his face. He hasn't activated his Sharingan, but it's easy to pick up a mediocre genjutsu when it goes rampaging around your own head.

"Madara-san, please stand on one leg", the boy orders, and Madara smirks, feeling the probing of chakra at his cerebral cortex. This is really crude, as though the boy never ever even heard of chakra. Then again, he probably didn't. He watches the surprise widen the boy's eyes, and can't help the delight spreading through his own chest. Chakra is extremely rare in this world, but it seems that if he just got out more he could find some rather interesting people gifted with it.

"See, you can't make me stand on one leg, because your quirk is not a quirk", he nearly chirps, flabbergasted that perhaps he can have one more student, and Izuku another friend. That one especially would make quite an interesting addition to his future Hero Agency. "Here. Call your parents and tell them you are dropping by for dinner. Which class are you in? I will have my son help you get home", Madara orders with a smile as friendly as his battle hardened face can manage.

"I am in the general department, Uchiha-san", the stunned boy mutters. That's a surprise, Madara didn't expect that. A quirk like that would be perfect for a hero.

"I think I can help you deal with that", the man smiles, before reaching for his phone. "Hey son! I need a favor. Could you pick up... Your name son?", Madara says stunning the boy further.

"Hitoshi Shinsou"

"Could you find Hitoshi Shinsou in the general department and bring him home for dinner?", he queries, fully aware the lessons are minutes from starting.

"Dad I might be busy. I don't know if I will make it", the sly bugger drawls. He is becoming more of an Uchiha every day, and Madara has every reason to be proud of him, disappointed in himself, and fear for the world.

"I know you will. Let's say two days", he encourages, and starts the short, and probably very daunting process of haggling. Two stands for two days of completely private one on one training of Izuku's choice. The sly bastard once used it to strong arm him into a weak long vacation at the beach!

"A week", a quipped answer comes back, and Madara has half the mind to chew his son out for being greedy. He meets Shinsou's questioning gaze, and holds up a finger, while thinking up the best strategy to deal with his 'heir'.

"Four days. Final offer. Take it or leave it you damned Uchiha", he growls into the receiver. He is cutting it kind of close, but he really needs Shinsou for dinner.

"Guess you will have to pick him up yourself", his son sing songs, making Madara this close to filicide.

"Fine you pint sized shinobi. Six days. It's Hitoshi Shinsou from the general department, tall, purplish hair, purple eyes, huge eye-bags, and should smell as though he just took a bath in cinnamon. Have fun at school, I love you", he shoots back, before his son can actually wrestle a whole week away.

"Love you too! Pleasure doing business with you Uchiha-san", Izuku chirps. The first three words really soften his heart every time he hears them. Madara disconnects and turns his attention to the boy staring at him quizzically.

"All right Shinsou. All set up. Make sure to call your parents", Madara nearly beams. He is pretty sure the sight of him beaming is something that could send villains running, but the boy doesn't even flinch, just gapes at him, like at a crazy person, when he stuffs a calling card in his hand. "Now I must go. Lots of things to do today. Preping on hero laws and regulations for my hero exam tomorrow. Drug cartel to bust. Quirk trafficking gang to detain. You know the usual", he adds with a knowing smile before walking off. To be honest all but that prep was true.

***

A few minutes later Katsuki swings open the humongous door with '1-A' painted on them and pulls him along into a class filled with an array of extraordinarily looking people. Kacchan doesn't mind much their new classmates, and simply takes a seat, not greeting anyone. The rowdy blond points his thumb at the desk behind him, mutely giving his friend a hint as to who he trusts to have his back. Izuku shrugs and nods quickly before stepping over to claim the place. The desk is surprisingly large, also the chair is nothing like the ones they had in middle school. His father prefers to keep the household in a largely traditional style, so he is not all that used to chairs at all, but this one looks surprisingly inviting.

He is nearly done unpacking when someone taps him on the shoulder, "Hello Uchiha-kun. Glad to see you here", a familiar voice chirps and Izuku spins around to meet a pair of brown eyes just a tad too close. He tries to take a step back, but his legs bump against the desk, forcing him to lean away a bit.

"Glad to see you are all right Uraraka", he answers scratching the back of his head and sending her a small smile. They texted a bit after the exam, and it seemed that she was really friendly. He laughed a bit when she sent him some of the photos from her parents' construction site. Especially the one where she was singlehandedly moving a huge cement block and flexed her muscles. To be honest it was kind of nice to be in the same classroom. Maybe even Kacchan would warm up to her in time. That way all of them could be friends.

"How was your summer Uchiha-kun?", the girl chirps, advancing into the depths of his personal space with the grace and persistence of a conquistador exploring South America.

Kacchan huffs something under his breath, but Izuku isn't quite in tune enough to hear what it was, when his phone saves him. The opening riff of 'Smoke on the Water' fills the classroom informing him that his beloved father is calling, and giving him the chance to slip out of this uncomfortably close conversation.

"Sorry Uraraka. I must take this. It might be important", he beams at her apologetically, and fishes the phone out of his pocket. In a neat spin, he slips past the brown haired girl, as his father starts to yammer on about some kid he just met and he wants him to pick up. On the flip side he will get some vacation time out of his dad on this one.

***

The moment Aizawa-sensei, a man who is possibly the cousin of fatigue and the unholy offspring of insomnia and lethargy informed them that instead of the traditional reading of the syllabus he is going to assess their quirks, Izuku's heart soared. By the time Aizawa-sensei had finished his very concise speech he was already vibrating with energy waiting to be unleashed. That state persisted until Izuku opened his locker in the boy's changing room, where he found the school issued training uniform with one glaring modification.

On its back, instead of the UA crest, his suit had a giant emblem of his own house, the Uchiha fan. Right now he was only missing the impractical forehead protector his father once made for him when he was still quite little. With that he would look completely idiotic. The other students give him questioning looks, but a few excuses later they deem it perfectly possible that his father, who is employed by UA, managed to persuade someone at the support department to play a practical joke.

"Izuku Uchiha, step up to the plate", Aizawa-sensei drawls and Izuku pushes through the crowd to the front. He watches the ball with some fancy technological gizmo attached soar and land, as the teacher tosses it lazily into the air.

"Here, Sir", he says facing him. The man throws him a ball, and Izuku catches it slightly awkwardly.

"Throw it as far as you can", Aizawa-sensei instructs with that scrutinizing gaze that seems even more piercing than his father's Sharingan. The instruction seems simple, but it sparks a mental tally of techniques he can use. He needs something to reinforce the distance. Either that or...

"You waiting for something?", Aizawa-sensei asks in an irate tone, snapping him out of building his plan.

"No Sir", Izuku barks back quickly, and puts the ball under his armpit. He just has to make sure the ball does not fall. Bird, Tiger. The seals come quickly, and he ignores the teacher's strange look, as he pushes the chakra into his arm, before flinging the ball. It soars high into the air, giving him time to reform the Tiger seal, and start spewing small fireballs. 'Fire Style: Fire Bullets', sounds like a perfect name. The chakra he left in the ball acts like a guidance system for his tiny projectiles to lock onto and propel it further. He manages about ten of them before running out of breath, and letting the ball fall. Aizawa looks lazily at his cell phone.

"One hundred, twenty seven meters", he reads, but does not comment, "Now class, these exercises are designed to push you to use your quirks creatively. Young Uchiha here used small fire balls to propel the ball and keep it afloat. He demonstrated great control of the fire half of his quirk, though I don't understand what this hand waving thing was for. Anyhow, whoever does worst on the combined tally of this assessment will be expelled. Next Tenya Iida!", the man says in a flat voice, and everyone in the class gasps.

Izuku's gut freezes as he leaves the pitch. He can see the curious gazes on him, as he shifts to the back of the crowd to stand by Kacchan, and watch the next contender, a boy with square glasses and wild gesticulation.

They run through more drills. For the most part Izuku restrains himself from using his lightning element. The race is fun, the times he spent on adventures climbing and dashing through trees giving him a high placement even without a quirk to help with that.

Next comes the punching machine. Izuku watches the students run through the exercise, some achieving quite impressive scores. He is pretty certain that the machine measures how much pressure is put on one centimeter squared of the surface. That would mean that if he managed to focus his chakra into a single point he could possibly win this contest and score a safe place. He watches his hand, he never did that type of fine grained chakra control. Even his father couldn't get it quite right, so how is he going to do that. In the end he settles on the usual. He stands a couple of meters away from the machine and forms the three seals necessary for the proper chakra flow. He can hear the growing noise of the birds chirping as he pulls back his hand, and releases the chakra in a single punch, tearing clean through the pillow and the machine.

To his misfortune when he tries to pull his hand out, he discovers it is stuck. Aizawa-sensei gives him a look of silent suffering, before checking off something on his cell.

***

It takes a couple of hours more to get through all the drills, by the end of which Izuku feels pretty exhausted. To be fair he did some pretty high level fire techniques. Aizawa-sensei is standing in front of the board of scores, with Kaminari's name glaring at the bottom. Izuku can see the golden haired boy swallow thickly, and cower in fear as he is fixed with a death glare Madara Uchiha would be jealous of.

"You are lucky", the teacher drawls, looking the sweaty and tired students over, "No one is getting expelled today. But beware the moment any of you stops meeting my expectations you will be out of here faster than lightning", he drags out these last three words treating Kaminari, who seems on the verge of fainting with a mix of fear and relief, with a pointed look.

***

Izuku sneezes for the third time as he approaches the general studies department. Contrary to the heroics they are actually reading the syllabus. Luckily they are not done with it yet. A few minutes later the teacher exits, while Izuku rests against the window sill, twiddling his thumbs mindlessly. He recalls having to nearly manhandle Kacchan into walking home alone, and declining Uraraka's polite offer to walk him to the station in Katsuki's stead because of his father's request. Maybe next time they can walk to the train station together. His pondering stops, when suddenly the doors to the classroom burst open, catching his attention immediately. A powerful scent of cinnamon assaults his nose, making Izuku sneeze again. His eyes take in the scene of three students holding another one, as he struggles to set himself free.

"Listen you freak. If you know what's best for you, you will leave this school", the one with a bald head barks, and Izuku's eyebrows shoot up. For a school which deals in heroism like his father does in hardcore drug busting cases, these guys are pretty villainous.

"Yeah and don't come back", another one, this with what looks like whiskers adds and kicks the struggling teen in the back. The boy stumbles and falls at Izuku's feet, clutching at his ribs and gagging. Purplish hair, check, tall, check, bags under eyes, hard to tell, cinnamon smell, overpowering. That's his man, Shinsou Hitoshi. His father told him multiple times, not to be a brat and fight at school, luckily he never said anything about playing mind tricks.

With narrowed eyes Izuku looks up at the three students, now blocking the doorway and staring at him.

"And what are ya lookin' at runt!", the tallest barks.

A sly smirk spreads on Izuku's lips, as he activates his Sharingan, and looks each of the boys in the eyes. "Oh, at nothing, just your mouths are sealing themselves shut", he says in a carefree tone, as he plants the genjutsu deep in their minds. For a moment they gape at him, as though he just told them a sick joke. But when the first one collapses clawing at his lips, disbelief is replaced with pure horror, as their ability to speak becomes void. A muted cough from under his feet brings him back to the real world in a snap.

"You must be Shinsou. My name is Izuku Uchiha, I think you met my dad, Madara Uchiha. Care to join us for dinner?", he beams at the bruised teen, extending his hand, as one by one the self proclaimed vigilantes collapse in shock.

Disbelief is painted on Shinsou's face, when his purple eyes meet Izuku's red ones, but he let's the smaller boy help him to his feet none the less.

"I had that handled", Shinsou mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck. Dad wasn't lying about the eye-bags they really take the 'i am just a bit tired' look to a whole new level.

"Oh, them?", Izuku asks innocently leaning to the side to make sure all three are properly passed out. One of them even pissed himself with fear, a fitful punishment, "I just though you could use the backup", he beams at his new friend, so wildly his eyes close. Perhaps it's for the best he doesn't notice the faint blush spreading on Shinsou's cheeks.

Chapter 8: Fire Shadow

Chapter Text

Shinsou is pleasant to be around, especially after Izuku grows used to the thick cloud of cinnamon smell his blue haired companion emits. Now if only he could somehow break the silence which has befallen his bruised companion...

"So why did they pick on you?", he queries, beaming a warm smile at Shinsou, and meeting the lilac orbs head on. There is something hypnotizing to the tired gaze, and for just a moment he gets lost in it. Before he realizes it he is standing on the tips of his toes with his fingers running through a tangle of surprisingly soft purplish hair. Blushing, Izuku pulls his hand back to clutch it to his chest, as though he just got burnt. With flushed cheeks he watches a tiny smirk dance on Shinsou's.

"Pretty much for that. It sometimes happens", the tall teenager explains unperturbed by the sudden touch.

Izuku narrows his eyes and tries to recall what exactly happened. He felt a strange probing force go rampant in his head, and before he could resist he was already ruffling Shinsou's hair. It was familiar, but as far as he knew there was no one else capable of this, his father, mother and him were unique. A small pout forms on his lips, as he ponders the possibilities, missing out on the gaze full of adoration directed his way.

"It's all right Shinsou-kun. I guess you just don't have that much control over your quirk", he smiles, looking up, and pulls his exhausted companion along. If earlier dad saw, what he had just seen, maybe this would be more fun than he ever expected.

"Your dad said that's not exactly a quirk", Shinsou says, and out of the corner of his eye Izuku can see the boy scratching at his nape again. Maybe it's some sort of a nervous habit, or maybe his neck is just stiff. In the latter maybe he should give Shinsou a hint about Katsuki's magic hands, actually Izuku has yet to experience those. Still what Shinsou just said did make sense. Mind control, it does sound like some pretty heavy genjutsu, and Shinsou seems to do that unconsciously.

"Mmmm...He might be right you know?", he throws into the air. If he could get Shinsou to use his 'quirk' on him then perhaps he could figure this out for sure.

"What do you mean?", Shinsou asks, scrunching up his brows. The frown brings a little life into his tired face, and Izuku can't help but smile at the diversity of people he is befriending. For the most part his friends ought to get along, though Hitoshi may end up being a little put off by Katsuki's... vibrant... personality.

"That would mean you have a much stronger quirk than you think!", he chimes turning to walk backwards in front of Shinsou. A pair of lilac eyes fix him with a puzzled gaze. This will be one awkward dinner. "Hey Shinsou could you use your quirk on me? I want to check a theory of mine", Izuku pipes up, readying himself to brake whatever type of genjutsu he is about to face.

"Fine. Do you like hugs Uchiha-kun?", the tired looking teen asks, and Izuku can't help his eyebrows soaring. That's one weird question, but maybe it is a prerequisite of sort for his 'quirk' to trigger, so he plays along.

"Izuku is fine and yes", he answers honestly, remembering how he usually hugs Katsuki or his dad. For a split second he forgets Shinsou is about to take his brain for a ride.

"Then give me one", Shinsou says simply, and a raging spike of chakra drives through Izuku's cerebellum.

"Gah", the green haired boy grunts, as at least half of the cells in his body vote that hugging his new friend is a perfectly legitimate thing he ought to do. He steps forward, and reaches for the blue haired boy, despite his internal struggle. "Kai", Izuku strains, activating his Sharingan. The jutsu disperses just enough to let him form the seal, and dispel it's remaining effects. That leaves him in an uncomfortable position that he is already half leaning on Shinsou, who is staring at him with something weird in his normally cold eyes.

"So how was it?", Hitoshi asks offhandedly. And Izuku realizes there is a large hand planted on his back. He stumbles back quickly, and blushes. This was a stupid idea, but proved right what he suspected. Izuku makes one last desperate attempt at schooling his features, and calming the blush on his face.

"Hitoshi, please be prepared to hear something absurd over dinner. But every word said today will be true", he says quickly, with a face as solemn as he can manage. Oh this is just too good to be true!

***

"Dinner Style: Beef Udon!", Madara roars in the kitchen, while simultaneously showing the beef into the oven, kneading the dough for the noodles, and letting his two other shadow clones chop vegetables and tend to the broth. He is majorly late, Izuku and Hitoshi should be home any minute now and nothing is done! Of all days, today the drug cartel had to put up a fight, worse yet they had to go on a lengthy car chase. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but he should have simply ended it sooner!

"You. Start on the shortcakes!", he barks at one of his clones, as soon as it is done with vegetables. The other Madara nods and rushes off to the pantry to get the necessary ingredients, while he starts separating the dough into noodles.

"The broth is not catching color!", the other clone yells, from the direction of the stove.

"Must I do everything myself you dumb f*ck!", Madara quips dumping the noodles into the strainers, and carrying them over to the large pot filled with boiling water.

A sniff later, he adds some soy sauce, and a couple of herbs, "Add the beef in precisely fifteen minutes. Don't f*ck it up you bloody disgrace!", he throws at his sultry looking clone. He never could quite get this jutsu right, they always seemed to lack his willpower and resolve, let alone his dashing personality.

The other clone comes rushing back, carrying an armful of flout, sugar, cream and fruit, while the original is busy preparing the glaze for the beef.

"Come on! You guys cook like old people f*ck!", he bellows, and all three of them chuckle. It's a wonder Izuku hasn't yet figured out that he is using shadow clones on more than one occasion. They come in handy when you have a huge house, kid, and meals to take care of. Though in Izuku's younger years he could still be stretched pretty thin at times even with four extra hands. Then again no man is truly prepared for fatherhood.

"Hurry it the f*ck up!", he hollers, seeing that his son is due to make it back home in five minutes, and pretty much nothing is ready. "Skip the f*cking shortcakes dimwit. Do something that doesn't require the f*cking oven! We ain't got time for that sh*t!", he adds at his carbon copy struggling with dessert. Seconds later the man in trying to dump a perfectly good batter down the drain. "No you sh*thead!", he hollers, feeling the precious time and his patience waver.

***

They manage in the nick of time, and in two puffs of white smoke his clones vanish just before Izuku arrives. The kitchen is a major disaster, but at least he got everything prepared. Beef udon and strawberry rolled velvet cake. Still it looks like a fifth shinobi war just took place in this part of the household.

"Bloody hell", Madara mutters pulling his favorite 'Kiss the cook' apron over his head, and shaking the remaining flour out of his spiky hair. A few seconds later the front door clicks open.

"Hello Dad I am home!", his son's cheerful voice echoes in their living room, and spreading warmth in his body.

"Welcome home!", he calls emerging from the kitchen, while wiping his hands. He can't help the smile pulling at the corners of his lips, seeing his son pull Shinsou into the mudroom.

"Pardon the intrusion!", Hitoshi calls in a somewhat gravely voice. Madara can't help frowning when he sees a couple of bruises on the boy's jaw.

"You are not intruding. Welcome home", he answers, while the boys slip out of their shoes. He watches Hitoshi's dismayed expression as he takes in the largely traditional household. That of course does not mean that Madara doesn't have a TV or a laptop stashed around somewhere. For starters there are no chairs, and most of the floor is covered in tatami. That was actually a major plus when Izuku was still a rugrat.

"So boys. Today we are having beef udon and strawberry rolled velvet cake. And once that is done with, I will explain why I invited you this forcefully for dinner. Is that acceptable for the both of you?", he asks in his most pleasant tone. They rarely have guests over, so it's important to impress the ones they do have. Besides this one could prove crucial to his small endeavor.

Hitoshi nods, and Izuku simply pulls him along towards the dining table, chatting away about his first day at the hero course. They must have started the conversation earlier.

***

"Izuku how was your day? Did you like my gift?", Madara queries, observing his son's face flush, as the boy undoubtedly reminiscences over the modified uniform.

"It stood out", he mumbles over a mouthful of soup. Madara can't help but smirk. It was meant to.

"Hitoshi care to tell me about your first day of UA?", he turns to the boy sitting on the other side of the table from Izuku, and notices the minuscule wince.

"You don't have to if you don't feel like it", he supplies quickly, but Hitoshi shakes his head in response.

"It's not a problem Uchiha-san. It was ordinary for the most part. General course is not really all that fun. At the end of the day I just ran into a couple of people who though my quirk was more fit for a villain", the blue haired teen says flatly. There is something admirable and scary about the way he takes violence directed against him in stride. Such things ought to worry every parent.

A few minutes of quiet consumption follow. Normally he would have felt comfortable with silence, but for some reason he doesn't now.

"So what do you like doing in your spare time?", he asks, trying to get a conversation flowing. Why can't he be more like Hashirama, that dork had everyone perpetually laughing.

"Oh, I run a blog, and help out at my mom's veterinary clinic", Shinsou says and a tiny smile spreads on his face. Izuku perks up at the mention of a veterinary clinic immediately. No wonder, he always loved animals, they had a very long war going on about the young man owning a dog.

"What animals do you like helping with best Hitoshi?", Izuku pipes up, for once with an empty mouth. Madara smiles weakly seeing the effortless way his son made a new friend. It sort of reminds him of a certain yellow haired boy, he faced many years ago.

"Cats are my favorite", Hitoshi says, before pulling out his phone, and tapping at it for a few moments. He places it on the table displaying a beautiful picture of tabby cat playing with a ball of orange yarn. Madara could have bet his left hand that he has seen this photo somewhere already. But where?

Seemingly no time later, three bowls are stacked in the center of the table, and Madara is already half vibrating in his seat. He had grown used to the thought that Izuku and him will work in a single agency, and that most likely Izuku's kids, if there will be any, shall do the same. But now with Hitoshi present there is a new possibility. He ponders how best to approach the topic as he cuts the cake into slices and garnishes them with mint leaves and some chocolate syrup. He knows he is going over the top, but this evening can influence the whole history of this world. At least he hopes it does.

When he comes back Izuku is scrolling through something on Hitoshi's phone and coos sweetly at it from time to time. In turn Hitoshi is staring at his son... oh sh*t, no, not another one. Madara is about to facepalm but remembers his hands are occupied with dessert and refrains. He is going to have to talk to his boy if he keeps doing this. This is cruel even by Uchiha standards. Nevertheless he sets down the plates and takes his seat at the head of the table.

"Boys, as both of you know I am a private investigator. As neither of you does soon I will be taking a hero exam", he starts and sees Hitoshi's eyes widen, while Izuku slams his palms against the table.

"So cool dad!", his son yells excitedly.

"Yes. Originally I planned that it be just me and Izuku, but seeing that you too posses chakra, I'd like to formally extend an invitation to join us as soon as all the paper work comes through", he finishes, keeping his eyes trained on the blue haired boy. Hitoshi sets the fork down with shaking hands, disbelief is written all over his face.

"What do you mean chakra?", the blue haired boy asks hollowly. He probably never heard of such a thing.

"I mean the ability to use ones inner energy to perform things others deem impossible. Your quirk is basically one of them. Do any of your parents have a quirk that affects the mind?", Madara asks, comfortable in his assumptions.

"My mom is a vet and she can talk to animals, dad is a doctor and his quirk is elastic fingers, so no", Hitoshi says cautiously. Madara senses the defense Shinsou is mounting, probably not believing in what he just heard. There is a simple way around that if necessary.

"So I'd like to formally offer you an internship. The written part of my exam is tomorrow. The practical test is the day after. After I pass, you can even get this promise on paper. But there is one condition, you will train with me. Every day, after school you will come here and spend two or three hours honing your ability to control chakra", Madara says seriously, this is possibly his most important argument, and without this condition Shinsou is going to be of no use. Now it's just the question of whether the boy would rather remain stuck or move forward. He locks eyes with the blue haired teen. Hitoshi's gaze is completely unreadable, Madara fears the day he is going to play poker against Shinsou.

"I read up on you Uchiha-san. You are said to be the most dangerous private investigator in Japan. Why do you want to become a hero if you are already famous and rich?", Shinsou asks. Madara raises his eyebrows surprised at the question, as he watches Shinsou finally dig into the soft cake.

"Hmm... For the most part, I want to keep an eye on my youngster. But also my wife always wanted me to do my best, and possibly I can do the most good as a hero", he answers after a few moments of consideration and a satisfied hum uttered by Shinsou, as the boy licks the fork clean.

He is once again fixed with that impenetrable gaze, and Madara can't help but wonder. If the kid is walking around unconsciously using a genjutsu of this caliber? What would happen if he gained control of it?

"I accept", Shinsou answers softly when Madara is about to start another round of bargaining. He hears Izuku release a breath he was holding and than tackle Hitoshi in a bear hug, while yapping on about how great it is going to be to train together. How he is going to show him the Chidori, and how he is going to be wearing the Uchiha crest too! Izuku is laughing, and drawing up plans, while Madara has a good view of Hitoshi's flushed cheeks, and stunned gaze.

That same evening they end up explaining to Izuku the basics of chakra. Actually his son does most of the explaining letting him cut in only for the more difficult parts. They even go as far as to telling him about the basics, taijutsu, genjutsu and ninjutsu. Shinsou seems most happy to know what the second one is exactly and when he finally figures out that all those years he could just trigger it without someone replying to him a very cunning smile cuts across his face. Madara is half tempted to give him 'the talk', he already had with Katsuki and Ochako, there and now.

***

Late into the evening Izuku walks Hitoshi to the train station, still talking animatedly about all the awesome things they are going to do. The investigator is pretty sure that within a month his son will have the blue haired boy in complete control of his 'quirk', even if genjutsu is said to be the most difficult of the arts to master. Anyhow he is sure that letting Izuku train with Hitoshi will certainly help, friendly rivalry and all that.

Nurturing these thoughts, he pulls out a battered and wrinkled photo of a young woman out of his wallet.

"You see Inko, you were right all along", he mutters before putting it away, and walking up the stairs.

***

Madara is sitting in his room staring at his giant plastic board. It's filled with scribbles of all the possible hero names and agency names he could think off. Amongst some of the more 'cool' ones are 'The Red Ninja', 'Madara of Sharingan', 'Uchiha God'. Who is he kidding these are utter sh*t!

He senses Izuku creep up behind him. The boy is getting good at this sneaking around.

"I know you are there you little shinobi", he says absentmindedly, and his son deflates with a loud huff.

"How did you know it was me!", the boy asks disgruntled, before walking around to stand in front of his huge board and admires it with interest.

"We had udon for dinner. Your's head extra garlic. You really ought to brush your teeth after every meal son", he chides. Maybe someday he will tell Izuku about being a sensor. For now it's best to encourage good habits. Speaking of good habits, Madara gets up and quickly spins the board around, hiding anything interesting from his son's curious eyes and even more curious mind, "So what is it my heir?", he queries in his most royal tone.

"Oh great head of the Uchiha clan I have a question for you", Izuku mocks back, and earns another crooked smile. If he keeps encouraging the boy's use of sarcasm Katsuki may one day blow him to pieces in a fit of anger. He himself nearly did that to Hashirama once, so there is a good chance of history repeating itself.

"Shoot", he answers and dumps himself back into the large office chair. A paper is tucked under his nose, and Madara squints to read the tiny letters. They are a little blurry none the less, but there is no way in hell he is getting glasses, he would rather die than suffer the humiliation. It's a hero costume design guidelines, which are due tomorrow morning, "So I take it you have too many ideas and can't decide", he says.

"Actually no. I have not a single one", Izuku corrects him and Madara's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. That was entirely unexpected.

"Then why not something historic, protective and with some clan insignia thrown in?", Madara asks, as he starts sketching out his own armor from memory. Izuku looks a bit sceptically over his arm, especially at the half open military boots, which given modern fashion make no sense.

"So you want me to wear a full plate armor with sandals?", the boy asks not even trying to hide his doubts.

"The armor is perfect for hero work. It protects your vital organs and gives you ease of movement. Of course you will have to get used to it, and you must not forget the gunbai", Madara chatters away, drawing the military fan as best as he can remember it.

"Dad I don't have issues with the armor, I actually kinda like it. It's the sandals. You are absolutely certain that this makes sense", Izuku seems about ready to deny that his father has any reason left.

"Sure. They are better for you in the summer, and the rain won't soak your feet so much. You will often have to patrol in the rain as a sidekick. And to top it of they are family tradition, and you have only sandals!", Madara lies so boldly he is shocked his son doesn't even pick up on it.

His son sighs dejectedly, but ultimately they come to an agreement. The remove some of the armor, to give Izuku more mobility, but leave the gunbai and the sandals, to honor the tradition. It's around midnight when they are done with the final specification, and his son is already half asleep, but an excited smile graces his face as he admires the precise documentation they have created.

"Can I help you with anything else son?", Madara asks yawning himself.

"Yeah dad, I was wondering what will your hero name be?", Izuku asks, with tiny stars dancing in his eyes, as he clutches at the paper, nearly rumpling it.

Madara chuckles, how had he not expected the question, "I don't know yet son. I might just make a last minute decision based on somebody else's judgment", he jokes.

"Well you might want something historic and traditional", his son mocks before slipping out the room, "Good night dad!", Izuku calls before shutting the door.

Madara laughs at his son's antics, before remembering a certain conversation which has taken place ages ago. He was talking to a man with long straight black hair, and a very dynamic personality, while they were overlooking the construction of their new home. "I think you ought to be the Hokage of Konoha", Madara mumbles the words Hashirama has said back then, and his eyes widen in shock. In a flash he pulls the exam application form out of his desk, and fills in the last two missing spaces.

Applicant's Hero Name: Hokage

Applicant's Hero Agency Name: Konohagakure

Chapter 9: Rules

Chapter Text

Walking home felt like a dream, no, that's not right. It felt like waking up from a dream, from a bleeding nightmare his life turned into the moment he learned about his quirk. Could it be that simple?

A dry laugh escaped Shinsou as he stared at the palm of his hand. "Chakra", he muttered the word which changed everything. Izuku had said that if he too mastered the control of his chakra he could be a great hero, and with Uchiha-san giving him the chance at training his dream could finally come true. He could finally show all those people doubting and mocking him.

The train jolted slightly coming to a stop, just to let in a group of rowdy delinquents. Shinsou's gut clenched when he recognized them as the guys who made it their life's mission to 'teach the villain kid a lesson' in middle school. They were standing on the other end of the train, so Shinsou ducked his head and glued his eyes to his shoes, sweating and praying that they don't notice him. He sat completely motionless through his trip home, only to nearly bolt out the doors the moment they opened. As luck would have it so did they. His feet carried him down the poorly lit platform in the cool evening, towards one of the side exists. If he could just get to the alleys--

"Oi! You villain boy!", the Kazumoto spat, the leader of the Villain-Kid-Adjustment-Squad, making Hitoshi turn numbly to see the group of thugs staring him down. This had played this out hundreds of times. If he replies he gets a beating, if he doesn't he gets a worse one. Hitoshi swallowed thickly, remembering all the black eyes, and bruised ribs.

"Oi! I didn't know UA accepted villains now! Or are you there as a punching bag?", the tall blond boy with tiny eyes drawled, stepping forward. Shinsou bit down on his lip, taking a step back. He has no way of outrunning them, even if he tries, not here at least. If only he could use his quirk. But there is no way they would answer any of his questions. 'This is your power!', Izuku told him on their way to the station, but how is this his power if he can't control it.

A sudden punch knocks him off his feet, sending pain flaring through his already bruised jaw. 'You are the one in control. Rule over it!', Izuku said to him with that beautiful blinding smile, before they parted ways. A kick to his ribs pushes tears into Hitoshi's eyes, leaving him breathless, and forcing him to curl into a tight ball. Trying to regain his bearings, he watches his oppressors circle him like hungry vultures in the flickering lights.

"Gah!", Hitoshi grunts when Kazumoto kicks him in the back, and paint shooting through his back short-circuits his brain, forcing him to slam his eyes shut. He wants out, he has never wanted to get away from everyone this badly. 'This is your power', he hears the faintest of whispers, just before another kick to gut forces the contents of the recent dinner out of him. At least now they give him a few minutes of reprieve, as he lies there motionless, in a puddle of his own puke, and with tears slipping out of his eyes. It's humiliating. Hitoshi would have been angry, if he was one to get angry. He heaves miserably, trying to fill his burning lungs with air despite every part of his body aching.

"Hehe. Look at Mr. Villain there. Laying in his own puke, and crying like a kid. That's how you deal with'em boys!", Kazumoto hoots, his shoes coming closer, as he riles himself up for another kick. 'This is your power', Hitoshi remembers gritting his teeth, and swallowing down the remaining bile in his mouth.

"This is my power", he croaks, and a firm hand grips his hair. A strong jerk pulls him to his knees, and fingers twist long purple strands to keep him from escaping. Instinctively his hands fly up to try to peel his assaulter's grip off, but Kazumoto has an iron hold.

"What did you say villain? You ain't giving up yet?", Kazumoto jeers in his battered face, but Hitoshi hears none of it.

"Stand back!", he hollers desperately hollers, pushing everything he remembers about how his quirk ought to feel like into the words. And then by some blind miracle he feels the familiar click, and the easiness of control, as his opponents' eyes glaze over inches away from his own lilac ones. A tiny one-sided smirk stretches Hitoshi's lips, as understanding of Uchiha's words dawns on him.

***

Hitoshi crosses the threshold of the Shinsou household nursing his ribs, and trying his best not to faint with exhaustion. His jaw hurts like hell, his side is no better off, and tomorrow morning he is probably going to have to use a whole tube of concealer. It's sheer luck that his parents aren't home yet. He barely toes his shoes off, when did they kick him in the leg? And yet a dry chuckle escapes his sore chest remembering the lesson he gave them. There is still the sour aftertaste of vomit in his mouth, but he is too tired to care.

Slowly he trudges up the steps to his room, feeling more and more spots light up with pain. Closing the door he slips out of his clothes and collapses into a dreamless slumber. Falling asleep he can't stop smiling. The next morning his parents find Shinsou still sleeping soundly, despite three alarms ringing from various clocks all around the room.

***

"Why is the old fart walking us to UA again?", Katsuki grumbles by Izuku's side. He is probably wishing that they could make their way to school like they did in middle school. For some reason Kacchan seemed to enjoy those immensely. Maybe he simply liked having some background noise Izuku would usually provide. The blond's hands are jammed deep into his pocket, and for a second Izuku fears his explosive quirk might set his pants on fire.

"Otosan is taking his written part of the hero exam today", Izuku answers puffing out his chest in pride, and making the man walking a few paces behind them chuckle. Dad is wearing his best clothes today, an ironed black shirt, maroon suit, and customarily sandals. Together with his long hair and fingerless gloves the result looks comical, but then Otosan never had any fashion sense. Despite this mishap Izuku couldn't have been more proud to be walking in his father's company this beautiful morning.

"What the f*ck do you mean a hero exam?!", Bakugou yells, apparently he was not expecting that for some reason. To be honest Izuku was also quite surprised by his father's abrupt decision. And yet it fit perfectly. His dad always pestered him to 'shoot for the moon', high time he started doing the same thing.

"I know! Isn't that great!", Izuku beams at his explosive friend, who's scowl deepens impressively, "I just learned yesterday! He still hasn't even revealed his hero name! I am so excited", Izuku confesses with a little bounce in his step. He watches Katsuki look over his shoulder as though he still had trouble believing.

"What the f*ck?", Kacchan mutters. For some reason all color has drained from his face.

***

The moment they arrive at school something utterly bizarre happens. Ochako and Kirishima-kun, the boy with spiky red hair pull Kacchan aside, asking Izuku not to threat, as they need him for a while. Being the ever perceptive type, the green haired ball of sunshine does not worry. After all, whatever they need from Kacchan, he sure can handle it. That leaves him with not much to do, other than observe the class. Unsurprisingly most of the students have already broken up into little cliques, and chat among themselves amicably. However there is one exception to this. Sitting near the back window is a boy with two colored hair, half is deep read, while the other is white as snow. Izuku can't help but stare at the perfect mismatch of colors. Slowly his eyes trail down, across a sharp line of jaw, to mouth drawn together into a tight line. Izuku recalls that Todoroki Shouto, Endeavor's son, is also one of their classmates, he remembers that the boy ranked towards the top on the assessment. He was strong, even powerful, so why was he sitting there so grimly, staring out the window instead of enjoying some company?

In a couple of steps Izuku finds himself in front of Todoroki's desk, tilting his neck, and trying to get the boy's attention. He is about to give up on that quest when a pair of equally mismatched eyes turn on him. It's startling, but upon deeper thought not very surprising. His right is gray, while his left is blue, contrasting with the visible burn mark covering nearly a quarter of what some girls must think of as a very handsome face.

"Hi, I am Izuku Uchiha", Izuku says flashing Todoroki a smile. He was never one to stick to formalities, so he simply continues, "But you can call me Izuku", he adds extending his hand. For a moment Todoroki fixes him with a vexed look, but soon enough their hands meet. Shouto's palm is cold, as though he just touched a block of ice. But while the contact lasts a bit longer than appropriate for a handshake Izuku doesn't feel the unwelcome sting of chill biting into his flesh.

"Shouto Todoroki", the mismatched boy introduces himself quietly, retracting his hand. A strange silence ensues, as one appraises the other.

"My quirk also deals with fire. So I though I'd go introduce myself. Also I want to become the number one hero", Izuku chirps, pointing a thumb at himself and puffing out his chest. There is something which reminds him of a distrustful animal emanating from Todoroki.

Shouto's gaze seems to harden, but soon let's up, "I will be the number one", he mutters turning, seemingly disinterested, to the window.

"Then I hope we can be rivals", Izuku answers with a wide grin, drawing the other boy's attention again.

***

"Bakugou-kun. I do hope we can be civil about this. As you being his childhood friend and all I hope you can understand that I will date Izuku", Roundface Bitch blabs and Katsuki can feel his eyelid twitch. Why that! "So I would appreciate you not butting in", she snaps, with a pointed look. Now that is too f*cking much!

"Listen here! Roundface! I am going to date Izuku and you get that in your stupid head!", he barks, keeping his voice just within unacceptable ranges, "I have already talked with his father. And as long as Izuku wants to he can go out with me. You probably never even met Uchiha-san", he argues, and folds his arms across his chest triumphantly. Ha! Now he has the upper hand.

"Actually I did talk to him. And he said that as long as Izuku wants to he is allowed to go out with me too!", she bites back, tiny fists bouncing by her sides. They glare at one another for a moment, Kirishima standing meekly to the side, as a certain purple haired teen rounds the corner. The tension gets to the point where Katsuki is ready to turn her ass into the Japanese space program, when suddenly they are interrupted.

"Is this class 1-A?", a tired looking, tall guy asks. He has eye-bags so majestic, that one could think last time he slept was in kindergarten. Katsuki can think of only one name to call him.

"Yeah Eye-bags. Whatya want?!", he barks, not gracing him with another look, as his eyes are busy drilling holes in Roundface's skull.

"Just to talk to Izuku. He is in this class isn't he?", the tired looking teen asks innocently, and Katsuki is ready to upgrade his designs for Uraraka powered rocket to expect a crew of one purple haired nuisance. His face twists into a menacing scowl, and his hands start fuming, when Kirishima peeps very quietly.

"I sort of want to date Izuku too..."

***

"So you like cold Soba? Maybe we could grab it sometimes?", Izuku smiles at his interlocutor, while scratching the back of his neck. Just then a loud explosion shakes the classroom. "Sorry about that, I might have to check on my friend. We will talk later?", the green haired boy asks giving Todoroki a short wave before speeding away.

He doesn't see Shouto waving back with a dumb, stricken expression on his face. How had that happened is still beyond Endeavor's son.

Next moment Izuku bursts out the door to see the red haired boy in their class, Kirishima, he remembers the loud introduction yesterday, fight off Katsuki, who seems to be angrier than a kicked nest of hornets. There are incoherent threats of purging, maiming and exploding poor Eijirou streaming out of the blond's lips, while Ochako and Hitoshi watch the scene with glee.

"STOP!", Izuku yells, but apparently there is only one possibility of assuaging Katsuki at this point, Kirishima's demise.

"Kacchan, stop", he says pulling at the boy's arm, but for some reason, upon entering his berserk rage the blond seems to have more power than Popeye on Spinach. "Kacchan look at me!", he hollers, with just enough force to draw the enraged blond's attention. Izuku wastes no precious time, seeing as Kirishima is close to death by detonation, and activates his Sharingan, instantly adding a low level sleeping genjutsu on top. For a moment Katsuki seems to fight him on it, but next second he plops down like a dead fish on top of Kirishima, who releases a loud huff from the sudden added weight. Izuku blinks his Sharingan away before anyone can see anything.

"Ufff... that was a close call, are you all right?", Izuku asks the redhead, peeking over his collapsed friend. Eijirou pushes Katsuki off of himself, and a large shark smile graces his face, as he sits up.

"Coool", Izuku mutters seeing the pointy teeth in all their razor sharp glory, and squatting to get a better. They are surprisingly white in comparison to Eijirou's slightly tanned skin. The redhead must do an incredible job of flossing.

"Thank you so much! You saved me!", the redhead beams, pulling Izuku into a quick hug, and giving his still standing contestants a dirty look. The green haired boy hugs back, before letting himself be released, to sit back on his heels. Luckily Eijirou didn't notice his Sharingan, or he would have a lot of explaining to do! "I don't know what you did there, but you saved my life. Let me at least take you out as a token of my gratitude", Eijirou smiles even wider, if that is at all possible he is even showing his molars. It would have been creepy if Eijirou wasn't so nice. Izuku looks down at his knees, pondering the idea, well it's always nice to be treated, and Eijirou seems decent, so he could be fun to hang around.

"Umm... sure, but I would have to check with Shouto. We agreed to grab soba sometime", he answers, scratching the back of his head. It seems as though Eijirou's face fell for a second, but the redhead quickly recovers his blinding smile.

"No problem Izuku", the taller boy chirps, putting a hand on his shoulder, and giving it a gentle squeeze, "Thanks again for saving me", he adds with another radiant grin, before getting up, and pulling Izuku to his feet.

The green haired boy remains oblivious to the fuming Ochako, who's look alone could probably spear Kirishima's heart, and Hitoshi's cold glare, who suddenly very much wishes to genjutsu the muscled idiot into jumping out the window.

***

The test was a breeze. In fact Madara finished it nearly half an hour before time was up. To his misfortune the proctor of his exam turned out to be no one else but a young, incredibly flirtatious woman. She seemed persistent in resisting the idea that he is not interested in finding a date! Luckily he wasn't dealing with her any longer, and as lunch break was nearing he could as well eat with his son. Late he is going to have to visit Recovery Girl for a clean bill of health, so he might as well do it well fed.

So there he is browsing a quite extensive menu the hero Lunch Rush provides, and humming along some catchy tune, which his bored mind retained in the morning. The selection is truly impressive, maybe he should talk to the man, even compare cooking notes one time or another.

"Ah, Katsudon", he smiles to himself, finding his son's favorite dish, and paying for two. As a father it is important to find quality time with his 'heir' whenever he can. Especially since it is going to get quite hectic soon. Madara sighs miserably hearing the clatter of footsteps seconds after the bell, and starts looking out for a mane of forest green hair. Soon enough he spots it trudging down the hallway. However to his surprise his son is not only surrounded by Katsuki and Ochako. The number of suitors seems to grow exponentially in recent days. Madara's eyelid twitches involuntarily as he watches a red haired boy pat Izuku's back, Hitoshi trail closely behind, and Endeavor's son, what was his name... Shouto, watch his son from a couple of meters away. How does he know they are potential boyfriend or girlfriend material. The way they look and brush against his son speaks volumes, at least for a trained eye of a private investigator. "Gods, why?", he mumbles anguished, and looks up at the ceiling, just before his son spots him, sticking out of the crowd in his maroon suit.

"Dad!", Izuku yells excitedly, and bounds over to him. His son has his brightest smile on his face, and nearly vibrates on his spot.

"Hi sport", Madara answers ruffling his Izuku's hair. The boy squeaks, while trying to wriggle away from the familiar gesture.

"How did the exam go?", Izuku asks, all but forgetting about his friends. How come his son is more excited about him being a hero than he is?

"Brilliantly", he replies, looking at the small group watching him intently. "Now here are two coupons for Katsudon. Be a good son and get your dad and yourself one, while I get to know your friends", he says in his caramel coated voice. It's the one thing Izuku hasn't yet figured out. The nicer he is, the uglier it is going to get the second his son disappears from sight. His little boy scampers off to get in line, and as soon as he is out of earshot Madara address the group now looking at him with a mixture of horror, satisfaction and interest.

"Let me make a few things clear. I don't care who you are. You hurt him, I hurt you. So do understand the implications of breaking his heart. He has to go out with you because he wants to, not because of your pressure. Other than that, there are no rules", he barks the instructions out quickly, feeling like some sort of twisted master of the game, "Also I will be giving out no hints. You go and figure him out", he adds before turning on his heel, plastering on a tight lipped smile, and catching up to his son who already saved him a table. Izuku is waving at him excitedly, certainly oblivious to just how sought after he will be during lunch periods the next couple of days, weeks or maybe even months.

***

Sometime during his son's heroics class, Madara sat in the chair with his head bent, feeling the horror of the elderly hero's words wash over him again and again. Just seconds ago, the words he dreaded, the ones he most feared left her lips.

"You need reading glasses", the short, lovely granny said, utterly shattering Madara's world. Her beady eyes met his dark ones. For a moment he thought that this was just some cruel joke, but the heroine's eyes held no humor.

"No, I don't", he quips, holding back his panic. His father didn't wear glasses. Nobody in the Uchiha clan wore glasses, save for a couple of people with sensitive eyes. And then it were only protective goggles! They didn't count!

"Madara-chan, don't start getting difficult now. You are over forty years old, it's natural for eyesight to deteriorate with age", she reasons, unknowingly hitting another nerve. Now he is not only blind but also old! Madara hung his head again, and raised his hand to keep the woman from talking, and possibly immersing him deeper into his sea of self-pity. He took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself, desperately looking for ideas, which unfortunately his sandals didn't provide for a good while.

"Contacts?", he pleaded, with the old lady, looking at her scrunched up face, and nearly getting to his knees. "ANYTHING but glasses! DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR!", he howls, actually kneeling in front of her and clutching at her lab coat. If a student entered now, they would have thought Madara just learned he is going to die in a week.

In return the old lady slapped him upside his spiked head, "Man up! You are going to wear them only for reading! Just have them with you and put them on if you can't see something up close!", she scolded, putting the mighty shinobi back in his place, "I swear to god. Men! That's why I never married", she grumbles under her breath, before handing him a prescription, and stamping 'APPROVED', across his application, right next to 'THEORY PASSED'. "Now get some sleep before the big day tomorrow. You do want to impress little Izuku", she encourages in the once again warm and motherly tone.

***

Izuku was double checking that the sea green breast plate held firmly, as his mind wandered over to All Might. Until he learned about his own unique quirk the man was his hero. And now he would be learning from him, wasn't that amazing? And yet some small part of him wished it was his father standing there in place of the Symbol of Peace, dispensing advice, and helping other students hone their quirks. He recalled Otosan's words, about concealing at least some of his power, and making his classmates believe his quirk is similar to Todoroki's. It was the logical plan, but what if necessity or opportunity called for something different? Izuku couldn't help but wonder, as he checked his kunai and shuriken satchel.

"You look awesome Izuku", Kirishima croons, as soon as Izuku finishes up with the last of his straps. The costume is not exactly up to specification. No wonder, it would be pretty hard to get done in one morning. So for now he has to settle for a chest plate with his clan's fan on the back, traditional shinobi sandals, a pair of black cargo pants, and a tshirt. It's not exactly battle worthy, especially since the support department didn't even get him the gunbai. Never the less it feels sturdy, familiar, and relates his clan's heritage.

He thinks he is done with it, when a glint of steel catches his eye. There is something more in his locker. Scrunching up his eyebrows, he reaches for it. His fingers wrap around a slightly rounded metal plate, and he can't help but chuckle, as he pulls out a bigger version of his childhood forehead protector. Only this time it bears a strange symbol, something like leaf with a small swirl on it. Quietly he hopes that it is the insignia of hid dad's hero agency.

"Hey Izuku, what's the fan on the back stand for?", Shouto comes up to ask, as the green haired boy ties the protector over his forehead. He feels a hand rest against his back, probably Shouto simply tracing the outline.

"Oh? The fan? It's my clan's crest. Uchiha are known for their fire breath, and the fan is traditionally used to feed the flames for air, to make them bigger", he explains, repeating the story his dad told him long, long ago. Shouto seems to consider it for a second, before grunting his understanding.

"Does the Todoroki family have a crest?", Izuku asks, turning around. For a second Todoroki's hand rest against his chest, as he admires the half white half icy suit. It's not creative, but its simplicity adds to Shouto's quiet and sort of regal character. But before he can hear the answer Kacchan pulls him along towards the mock city where today's hero training will be held at. Trudging after his friend he sees the huge braces around the blond's forearms and the form fitting black top.

"Kacchan, what do these forearm guards do?", he asks innocently, curiosity or maybe caution getting the better of him. Izuku is about to tug at a pin protruding from one of them, when a gloved hand catches his own.

"Don't pull that dumbass!", Katsuki bellows, turning to face him, "Are you some kind of an idiot? What do you think they do?! They blow up!", his friend adds, with a menacing scowl. They are so close he can actually smell the mapo tofu on his best friend's breath, maybe that's why Kacchan is a tiny bit flushed.

***

His class has some pretty awesome hero costumes. Even Mineta, who keeps on salivating over the girls looks not that bad. They are standing in a group while All Might runs them through the exercise about to take place. A bomb is placed the building and the students will be divided into teams of two. One team will defend the bomb, playing the villains, the other will try to secure it, the heroes. Sounds straight forward enough. As the teams are being drawn Izuku ponders who he would rather work with, certainly it would be nice to have someone who could supply his weaker sides, or at least the ones he can't show yet.

"Next match! Izuku Uchiha and Mashirou Ojiro as villains versus Todoroki Shouto and Mineta Minorou as heroes!", the number one hero booms and Izuku's blood starts rushing.

Chapter 10: A transformation jutsu

Chapter Text

"Mashirao tell me, how does Mineta-kun strike you?", the green haired boy asks, while pulling a string across the fifth doorway in just two minutes. The monkey man has watched Uchiha-kun set up a number of various and devious traps all around the stairwell and down the hall which led to where they would be guarding the bomb. Most were pretty obvious, and quite dangerous for a school exercise.

"He is a grade A, disgusting pervert", Mashirao deadpans, folding his hands across his chest. What could the short boy be going for? His tail hangs lazily from his shoulder, as he assess their probability of success. Todoroki's quirk was magnificent during, but if Uchiha-kun could match it then they stood a fair fight.

"Girls or boys?", Izuku-kun asks straight to the point, making him flinch. For such an innocent being he surely does not mince words, "Sorry for being blunt Mashirao, simply we don't have much time left to get prepared", the green headed boy chimes, with a sweet smile on his face. Had Mashirao not been straight as an arrow, he would have probably fallen for it instantly.

"Girls", he answers curtly, while the Uchiha makes his way past him, neatly stepping over the barely visible line stretched somewhere in the middle of the corridor where no one would expect it. There is something just a little bit unsettling about how in his element Izuku-kun seems despite the fact that they are going to be fighting for real, "Are you planning something?", he asks following suit, and stepping only where his classmate stepped. Seeing a row of metal stars pierce a wooden door he has more than enough incentive to be very thorough about his footing.

"Umm... Yeah", Izuku answers rubbing at his nape, as they step into a well lit room, "I am going to use his weakness against him", the shorter boy adds innocently, and a chill runs through Mashirao's body. This kid is evil at the core!

Izuku makes himself comfortable on one of the crates, and closes his eyes, seemingly drifting off into meditation.

"Uchiha-kun, why do you refer to everyone but Mineta by their first names? Isn't it slightly too forward of you?", Mashirao asks the question twisting his mind in a knot since the moment their partnership started. There was one other one, involving a good portion of their classmates, and Izuku's heart but that could wait.

"Dunno, actually. There is something slimy about being on first name bases with a perv", Izuku's honesty shakes Mashirao's core. He decides to forgo the the second question. Bakugou, Uraraka and Kirishima are deep enough as it is without him making things worse.

"AND START!", All Might's voice bellows through the speakers. Izuku jumps off the crate and takes a lazy position, while Mashirao raises his guard. The next thing they know is they are frozen to the ground.

***

"Wow. He has some pretty awesome quirk", Izuku mutters, sliding his palm across the cold, glassy surface. Sure enough most of his traps would be frozen this way, seeing as the ice covered even the ceilings. Luckily at least the last one uses a bunch of explosive markers his dad crammed into his satchel 'in case of an emergency'. Being a smart boy, Izuku kept one and is secretly trying to replicate it. He turns his attention to Mashirao who seems to be shivering with cold. A gi does no favors when the temperature drops. True it displays the impressive musculature his partner has built over the years, but seems quite lacking fort things other than mobility.

"Mashirao, are you going to be all right?", he asks, looking at the boy's hunched form, and the tail wrapped tightly around his body. He is going to have to talk to the blond later on about better costume design.

"Yeah. But we can't do anything like that. Todoroki won", the blond chatters out. To be frank he couldn't have been more wrong about their loss.

"No he didn't", Izuku answers and a loud explosion from down the hall sends some ice shards into the room, together with one grape head.
"Mashirao, close your eyes!", Izuku barks seeing his opening. He has been working on this little baby in secret, mainly for the sake of one very elaborate prank targeted at Kacchan, but seems like Mineta is a far more potent testing dummy. He forms the Ram seal mindlessly, pouring just a hint of chakra into a transformation jutsu.

"Transformation: Sexy Technique!", he yells locking eyes with the class pervert, and feeling the chakra conceal his person in a puff of white smoke.

***

At the same time in the observation room All Might's jaw has gone completely slack. Not only his. The few straight boys, the few gay girls, and the many envious girls stared as in the small boy's place now stood not a 10/10, but a 1000/10 babe with just two flimsy clouds hovering over her most precious jewels. She has bushy green hair, freckles and huge green eyes. The students watch a seductive smile grace her full lips, as she bends over exposing her full breasts to the lecherous grape-head, giving him a profuse nosebleed.

"Sir, Kaminari is bleeding", Iida barks, sniffing himself, and covering his face.

"Hello Mineta-kun. Have I been a bad girl?", she purrs, making even the stoic Tokoyami blush and shift uncomfortably in place. Mineta in turn is completely dumbstruck, his brain took a leave of absence when faced with a beauty so potent that the capillaries in his nose bust knocking him back and out in a fountain of spurted blood.

"God damn", Sero sighs, his eyes bulging out, at the screen, wishing this was recorded in HD.

***

"YOU ARE KIDDING ME!", Mashirao roars, trying his best to look anywhere, but at those damn honkers, and this beautiful, round, perfect ass. He is honorable, proper, well behaved, and in control of his urges. Yet, the longer he stands there, trying to deny himself the more blood rushes south. Flustered and frustrated he starts a very determined recitation of the powers of 2, just before hearing a soft puff.

"Well that worked well", Izuku, clothed, thank god, says leaning over Mineta, who's twitching hands and incoherent mumbling resemble a sudden onset of paralysis accompanied by utter mental breakdown.

"You are evil", Mashirao spits, still trying to eject any thoughts of those perky tit* from his mind, because god damn it, loose combat clothing is too revealing. He is adding a cup to this uniform, damn it!

"I know. I think it's in the genes", Izuku chirps, smiling radiantly at him, just before another person crossed the doors.

***

"Hello Shouto", Izuku muses, pulling free of the ice. Truth be told, it wasn't all that difficult to release enough chakra to crack some ice holding him in place. Endeavor's son gives him a mixed glare, half angry, half cold, perhaps lukewarm wood be a suiting word, "I have been waiting to face my rival head on. Who knew I'd get a chance so soon", Izuku adds, watching Shouto's gaze harden. There are specks of ice on his right side, and his left is covered completely by the suit. Would he not be using his fire?

"Step away Izuku. I don't want to hurt you", Shouto snaps, taking a step forward, and a wave of ice rushes at the small Shinobi. Tiger. 'Fire Style: Blaze', Izuku thinks, releasing a cone shaped surge of white hot flame. He thought this one up especially for Shouto. Having to evaporate ice requires higher temperature, so the chakra must be more compressed. Seconds later the flame dissipates revealing a very surprised mismatched teenager. However Shouto quickly recovers, rolling to the side and throwing a wall of ice, forcing Izuku to dodge, and release another fireball. Unknowingly Shouto is digging his own grave, as more and more water from the ice slushes under their feet.

"Mashirao. Get out of the room. I need a bigger fire burst!", Izuku throws over his arm, dodging a barrage of icy projectiles. Keeping Todoroki at bay is extremely difficult without the help of the Sharingan. But if he gets the king of baboons out of the room, he could use his Chidori.

"I can't leave you here", the blond argues, and Izuku hears a crack of ice, as the monkey man finally wrenches his feet free.

"Trust me!", Izuku yells, but when Todoroki's particularly tricky feint causes one of feet to be caught again, he resigns from keeping his family heirloom secret.

"Sharingan!", he yells, catching Shouto's attention. He sees the mismatched eyes widen a fraction, before Todoroki speeds towards the bomb. "sh*t", he mutters folding the Ram seal, when suddenly Shouto is pushed back by a powerful roundhouse.

"I am not leaving!", Mashirao yells landing nimbly, as Todoroki tumbles back. That gives Izuku just enough time to think. Todoroki is slowing down, he was fast enough to avoid the fireballs so why did he get caught by a simple kick, even if it was impressively executed. "Why isn't he using his fire?", Izuku mutters seeing Todoroki get back on his feet. His stance is wobbly, with his right held far too low to be an effective defense. The exposed half is nearly completely encased in ice. Izuku can see that Shouto's lips are blue, and the short shivers running through his cold body.

"What are you doing?!", he yells in Shouto's direction, "Use your fire damn it!", he adds, yanking his leg free, "There is no scenario here where you win without your fire!", Izuku bellows, and watches an angry scowl twist Shouto's face. "You want to be my rival as a hero than use your power!", he adds. Fear that Shouto may be too bull headed to notice he will kill himself or worse yet someone drives his words, as he eyes the mismatched boy's reactions. These don't bide well.

"I will not use my father's power. Never!", Todoroki grits out, and Izuku scoffs in response. This is hopeless, how can someone be so caught up in themselves.

"This is not your father's power! It is yours!", he bellows closing a fist front in front of his face, "Rule it! Show me your true strength!", he finishes, riling up Shouto into an unstoppable frenzy.

"Mashirao run. This is going to get ugly", he quips, but the blond stays rooted, "Seriously!", he adds, seeing a turmoil of emotion pass through Todoroki. The Sharingan hints at what is coming, a detonation. Shouto is close to unleashing a fiery hell many magnitudes worse than Katsuki can ever dream up. "Mashirao run!", he yells turning to the blond, who seems transfixed on Shouto, and the sudden burst of flame from his left, turning the hero suit into ashes. "Damn it!", Izuku bellows already folding the necessary seals, as he charges in front of Mashirao.

"What are you doing?!", the blond asks, oblivious to what is about to go down, and trying to pull him out of the way. But a swift kick to the solar plexus sends Ojirou to the ground, curling up in a ball, and coughing.

"Sorry Mashirao!", Izuku yells clasping the Tiger seal, and looking Todoroki straight in the eyes. "Sorry Shouto", he mumbles.

"Uchiha Clan Style Genjutsu: Dreamless Slumber", he says under his breath, before sending a spike of chakra through Shouto's brain. The fire goes out in an instant, as does any sign of light in the mismatched boy's eyes, just before he tumbles to the ground with a loud thud.

With some luck others will believe him that Shouto passed out of hypothermia. He takes in the icy cavern with dripping icicles hanging from the ceiling. His eyes slide over Shouto's evenly breathing form on the ground, and Mineta's largely stiff one, with the same nosebleed going strong. How much blood does that guy have?

"What do you think you are doing?", a harsh voice chides. A firm hand spins him around to face Mashirao's narrow, angry eyes.

"I wanted to protect you. If I matched his attack with my fire breath, we would probably turn this building into rubble, but maybe nobody would get hurt", he lies quickly. A faint pang of guilt, as Mashirao's grip lightens, and an astounded expression slips onto his face. Izuku uses that moment, to briefly hug the taller boy, causing a certain blond observing downstairs to release a grinding noise fit for a lawnmower. "I am glad I didn't have to though", he says pulling away, "And sorry about earlier, with the whole naked girl thing", he adds in his sweetest voice, most innocent voice.

***

As soon as the victorious team walks into the observation room, everyone crowds around Izuku, asking what happened, and what was that strange transformation. In turn the green haired shinobi watches a certain half invisible girl pull Mashirao into a hug, and smiles to himself. He gets to explaining that Shouto must have passed out because of hypothermia, after all he was covered in ice and taken to Recovery Girl. Speaking of the mismatched teen, the way his chakra swirled at the mention of his father. It's worrying to say the least. Izuku resolves that he will talk to Todoroki once he wakes up, which should be an hour, give or take.

At that precise moment, loud stomps pierce through the bustle, and his fellow classmates are elbowed left, and right, with Kaminari being nearly thrown out of the way, by his anger management challenged childhood friend.

"How did I do Kacchan?", Izuku asks beaming at his friend and spreading his hands wide as though waiting for a hug. Katsuki must be royally pissed, because his eyebrows are so scrunched up a tiny human could walk from one to the other without ever having a fear of falling. A faint nitric smell permeates the air, before a hand grabs at his belt and yanks him forward.

"Kacchan, what are you doing?", he asks, seeing that his childhood friend is no less no more, taking a peek into his pants, or rather what he stores under them. "Kacchan!", he yelps pulling away, "You know I'm a guy, you've seen me naked already!", Izuku grumbles pulling his belt tighter. A sudden silence falls, as everyone forms their own interpretation of that declaration. "We are childhood friends!", Izuku reminds and a majority breathes a sigh of relief.

"All Right! Job well done! Plus Ultra!", All Might booms, ushering them back, and ending his streak of self-humiliation. For some reason Ochako's eyelid is twitching and Kirishima seems quite giddy. Maybe she is simply worried, and the redhead is excited for the upcoming match. What was Kacchan's deal by the way? The questions keep piling up, but soon his mental slate is wiped clean, when the next match up is announced.

Chapter 11: Lightning Tempest

Chapter Text

They are sitting in the garden, where the natural energy is plentiful, a perfect place to train a young shinobi. Or in Madara's case two young shinobi. Izuku is practicing his water transformations off by the sprinklers while he gets a one on one with Hitoshi. It has been a while, possibly a decade, since he did the 'Ninja 101', but he is confident in his abilities. They are sitting cross legged on the grass facing one another. Both are wearing a pair of Uchiha sweats, which don't differ that much from normal ones except for a high collar, and the fan on the back.

"All right Hitoshi, you know a little bit about chakra from our chat yesterday. So today we are going to delve into the applied parts of the theory. I am a particularly difficult target to put a genjutsu on, but for the sake of our exercise I will leave myself open. Do you understand?", Madara instructs, and watches the boy nod slowly. Shinsou's jaw is covered with concealer, but something about it is off. When he was leaving their home he had a minor bruise near the chin, but the cosmetic reaches halfway up his cheek. Also the smell of cinnamon is less potent, as though chakra wasn't spilling out of the teenager's body haphazardly. Something is off...

"But before we get to that, I'd like you to tell me something. Did you get in a fight on your way back yesterday?", he asks slowly, immediately regretting the phrasing. It's far more likely somebody picked on Hitoshi than he sought out a fight willingly. The teen lowers his eyes, and stubs his pointer at the ground. "Don't worry, you are not in any trouble", he assures, raising his hands in defensive gesture, and watching Shinsou chew on his lower lip.

A pair of lilac eyes looks into his dark ones, the gaze is hypnotizing, like a field of lavender just before the storm, "I ran into some bullies from middle school, the 'Villain Punishment Squad' as they liked to call themselves", the exhausted looking teen answers curtly. There is no anger, sadness, or pride in his voice, as though he is completely used to being punished for things he has never done.

"Would you like me to handle the... issue?", Madara asks politely, even though internally he is already boiling. In the beginnings of his career he had to deal with tens of such cases. Every time it was the same pattern, some bullheaded, charismatic, imbecile with a half-assed quirk who would amount only to living in his parent's basem*nt wanted to prove his worth by picking on someone who wouldn't or couldn't fight back. It wouldn't have been that bad, but this time they picked on someone who not only didn't deserve it, but had the potential to surpass most of the pros.

Hitoshi looks at him dumbfounded. Did he not expect such a straightforward offer from his teacher?, "I sort of scared them. I used my quirk, but it triggered without their answer. I think they will leave me alone now", Shinsou offers, pulling out a blade of grass.

Now it's Madara's turn to be dumbfounded. The kid went from zero to shinobi after one lesson, a theoretical at that? What is he dealing with two prodigies now? He shakes his head dislodging the delight and fear, before answering, "So you used genjutsu... Well if anything happens do tell. So back to topic. Genjutsu is about placing false images in one's mind. Normally it is visual, requires eye contact. Auditory genjutsu is extremely rare", he explains and Hitoshi smirks, "So we will start with the basics, and for the last hour we will do chakra control", he finishes the explanation of what is about to go down today.

"Chakra control?", Shinsou asks, probably he is still trying to wrap his head around what chakra can actually do.

"Yes. We will be walking up a vertical wall", Madara deadpans, watching Hitoshi's eyes get comically large. He really ought to have taken a photo just now. In a week's time he will be laughing his ass off at those who can't walk up a building.

"Since genjutsu is about illusion, and the easiest sense to fool is sight. I need you to make me believe you are not sitting in front of me", he says, making the boy gape, "just recall how your 'quirk' normally feels like", he adds making the air quotes around the work quirk. It's a good starting point, even if it bleeds chakra left and right.

"I'll do my best", Hitoshi drawls, folding his hands into the Tiger seal. A sudden idea pops into Madara's head. Isn't the sports festival just a few weeks away?

***

As luck would have it his proctor once again is the heroine by day, dominatrix by night, Midnight herself. As luck would have it once again the idea that he is not looking for anybody does not stick, or it does for some thirty seconds, and then dissolves in the abyss of her deranged brain. Yet overall Madara has to admit, she is far from being bad company, with her crack whip humor, and utter obsession with youth she reminds him of someone, Hashirama. Lately he has been seeing his friend in more and more people. Maybe there actually is such thing as 'The Will of Fire'.

That's how they arrive at UA, with him wearing a complete replica of his old armor, and a certain new addition, a forehead protector with Konohagakure's symbol tied around his head. Maybe he can actually achieve their dream in another world. Konohakagure, a place for all those who wield chakra, safe, protected, peaceful, and with far more comfortable armor. Madara checks his forehead protector one last time, before following the heroine inside. As soon as they make it through the door, he gasps. It's not that he has never been inside the facility, the grandeur of it simply always knocks him breathless. The heroine snicker under her breath, as they are greeted by a man or maybe woman, who knows, covered from head to toe in a puffy space suit inspired costume.

"Basically for you the exam ought to be a piece of cake. First part is rescue training and will be conducted here. We will probably start out with the water arena and then pick a direction to move around the circle. I am very interested in how you will swim wearing all this junk", the woman muses with a wink, "Maybe you will need a lifeguard?", she hopes aloud, while they descend the staircase at the dreadfully slow pace. Oh how little she knows about his capabilities. Perhaps she simply never dipped a pinky in underworld gossip? He recalls the many names drug cartels and quirk traffickers call him by: 'The Red Inspector', 'Aka no Shinigami', 'Red Bastard', and chuckles quietly.

"Is something funny?", Midnight asks turning around to face him with an inquisitive look. Her hands rest on her hips, giving the heroine an even more dominant vibe.

"Oh, no, no. Just the notion of swimming in this", he answers, waving a hand. As far as lying goes he has got it down pat. "I will do my best though", Madara promises changing the subject, already giddy to start his one man show. Supposedly the quirk allowing to walk on water is quite rare. If the records he found are correct it occurred only one time so far, some two thousand years ago. Then again this hero had a lot of other quirks. Water-To-Wine, at least that's how Izuku dubbed it, being a particularly interesting one, especially for culinary purposes.

"Good. May I inquire though, why you are getting a hero license. You've been working for UA for five years now. Why the sudden change?", Midnight asks, and starts walking again. She leads him through a small door onto a beach, with a shipwreck far out in the water. It looks like someone uprooted a very nice piece of tropical island and lugged it all the way here. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving them to a short, albeit pleasant walk by the seaside.

"Izuku is growing up, and he will need me for as long as I can help him. I figured becoming a hero is the next rational step", he answers honestly, pulling at his braces. It has been so long since he had worn actual armor that everything seems slightly off. In the moment of silence, he looks out at the water, it's a wonderful turquoise shade. Damn them, they stole a piece of Bahamas! Speaking of vacations, he has to remember to confirm that reservation for the little house by the seaside.

"Hang on Uchiha-san. Are you somehow related to Izuku Uchiha, a student in class 1-A?", the woman half-gasps, and Madara can't help the snort escaping his lips. Was it not obvious? They do look a little bit alike after all.

"I am his father. I taught him everything he knows", he answers proudly, checking whether the satchel with kunai and shuriken is sitting securely on his lower back, "Nedzu-sensei said something about the kids coming to watch part of the exam. When will they be getting here?", he queries, scrunching up his brows. Something in the air seems funny, dark and unfriendly, despite the fact that this institution, filled with heroic deeds ought to have a different vibe.

"They should have just arrived", Midnight answers looking at her watch, after shaking off the initial shock. Just then a cannonade of tiny black holes opens right before their eyes. The characters slipping out of them and falling into the water seem fishy, crabby, some even somewhat sharky.

"Now that's interesting, is this part of the exam?", Madara asks in a carefree tone, watching a man with some quite impressive cutlery instead of teeth charge at him, as soon as he reaches shore. With a lazy flick of his wrist Madara throws a kunai piercing the assailant's foot, and soon enough the knives-for-teeth villain is sliding towards him accumulating an astounding amount of sand in his mouth.

"Not to my knowledge!", the heroine yells and knocks another one away with a wide kick.

"If I deal with all of them, and the cause of this mayhem do I get the license?", Madara asks in his most polite tone, already smelling the fight in the air. Something fish-shaped tries a surprise attack from the sea, only to get a mouthful of his sandal. Just to overdo it he flashes his most deranged grin at the heroine.

"If you do you will get the license, my private number and a time of our date", Midnight yells, locked in a strength contest with some tentacle like guy. To Madara's horror she seems to enjoy the sensation of wet, slimy protrusions across her thin costume. The man shudders, before taking in his surroundings. Whatever is happening it seems the villains are coming from the water, so it should be a one-shot thing.

"I accept!", he boom, spreading his feet wide. The technique he is going to employ tends to have quite some recoil, "Step away from the water, fair maiden!", he hollers and order befitting a knight in shining armor. After all he needs her conscious for what's about to transpire, "And you villains beware the Hokage's power!", he bellows, digging his heels in.

A crab-like villain crawls out of the water, as a veritably evil smile spreads on Madara's face, and the Sharingan changes his irises into pure red. Maybe he can actually get some exciting fighting done in this world, without compromising his fatherly duties of course.

Bird, Dog, Ram, he weaves the seals in a fraction of a second. "Storm Style: Lighting Tempest!", he bellows, unleashing a cone of lighting into the turquoise depths.

***

"What do you mean we lost contact with the thugs you sent to the water arena?", Shiragaki grumbles, scratching at his raw neck. The dull scraping sensation soothes his nerves slightly, but he is still feeling anxious. What the hell happened? Never mind, they have an absolute weapon. Something that can take even All Might! No way a measly hero can stop them now.

"Stop the students Kurogiri. Kill them if you must", he throws carelessly to his servant, and the man made of black fog vanishes.

Chapter 12: A New Hero

Chapter Text

When you hear a man, whose voice rarely rises above normal level, holler, the command he gives usually catches your attention. The moment Aizawa said 'Run', the students bolted for the reinforced doors like a hoard of crazy chipmunks. The organized panic, of their retreat left Izuku dead last, not by accident though. The green haired boy wanted to make sure everyone got out safe and sound. For whatever others would say, he still believed that he is strongest here. Now, there were a couple of things which left the short shinobi wondering. For starters the lack of alarms and the fact that the villains knew where and when to strike pointed to the likelihood that this is an inside job. Now either it is one of the teachers or the stu-

SMACK! Izuku's train of though is abruptly interrupted when his face makes contact with the smooth wide surface into Tenya's wide back clad by armor. On any occasion he would have said it's nice to run into the hearty class president, but somehow, with villains pouring out of mysterious portals, Aizawa having his boxers in a twist, and his nose throbbing from the impact, he feels less inclined to do so.

"Tenya what the hell", he grumbles, massaging his face. Dad really knew what he was doing when he placed the forehead protector in his locker. Anyway why are they standing here like blocks of salt? Izuku wonders about that peeking around the broad shouldered boy.

"Dear students of UA-", the villain made of black mist starts yapping. Izuku blinks dumbfounded. His dad told him time, and time again that life is not a shounen manga and talking while your opponent is readying to strike betrays only infinite pride and stupidity. He was willing to bet his tie pin, that in this case it could be both.

"Oh that's rich", Izuku mutters, under his breath, already looking for the weak points. He doesn't get far though, Eijirou and Katsuki attack simultaneously with a powerful punch and a huge explosion, causing a cloud of smoke. Great! Now genjutsu is out of the question. He needs eye contact, not like a certain zombie looking friend of his. But as the dark clouds of dust settle, the villain appears unharmed, and keeps on drawling on in his patronizing tone. Now that was just a bit too much. When Izuku talked with his dad during lunch break, he learned that they are going to see him in action today! He had never seen his favor truly in action! And now his only chance was ruined by those pesky villains.

"Tenya, scoot. I will make an opening, you go get help. Our problem requires a targeted approach", Izuku hoots, pushing his way past the class president, who seems to be stuck between baffled and disgruntled at that moment. By targeted approach of course Izuku Uchiha means a Chidori to the black, slit eyed, face, followed by a well applied roasting of a great fire ball.

Unfortunately before he can do any of that, a huge black cloud of black fog explodes from the villain's body, shrouding everyone in darkness.

***

Landing squat on your ass in the middle of a group of villains is usually not a pleasant thing for the person doing the landing. This however may not be the case when a landing is performed on the villains, by a boy who's life was spent listening to tales of great shinobi fighting against hundreds of opponents and techniques that could shake the earth to the very core, while wielding a particular set of eyes. Now, Izuku Uchiha is precisely that sort of a kid, so as soon as the black void spits him out, he puts a handful of shuriken to good use, and two villain's dental plans to great test. A few minutes, and many broken bones later Izuku is ready to acknowledge, that his father is actually right, taijutsu is the most fun out of all forms of combat. That realization is packaged with a villain's broken arm, and another one's broken nose. Unfortunately nothing fun lasts eternally, and so, far too soon for Izuku's taste, his opponents start running from him instead of towards him. That however provides ample opportunity to look around, and identify the potential cause of this surprise party, which if his father is here already is probably well received and much enjoyed.

Izuku spins nimbly out of the way of an incoming strike and back-flips, removing somebody's consciousness, as his eyes take in his surroundings. The black mist guy is nowhere to be seen, there is a huge pillar of flame exploding to his left, in the city zone, and a chilly wind blowing from his right. Apart from that maybe fifty meters away, there is somebody waving their arms as though they were directing the disaster of an attack. He has gray hair, and hands stuck to every part of his body, and Izuku decides to dub him Handsy-The-Chief-Villain for the time being. But what's more interesting is the muscled, deformed, enormous, unholy child of a body builder and raven standing fast by his side. Now Izuku has seen or heard of some pretty bizarre cases thanks to a rather unorthodox upbringing he received, but this is a new level of weird. Finally he tries sensing his classmates' chakras, but the signatures are so jumbled up that he can't get a clear direction on anyone. Oh well, he is just going to have to get lucky, and hopefully he will find someone, though these villains don't seem too dangerous.

Two more punches and a ball of flame later, the remaining will to fight him leaves the villains' faster than Tenya chases after orange juice on sale.

***

"sh*t hair for brains. It has been an honor", Bakugou pants, his suit torn and battered, as the circle of villains gradually tightens around them, like a knot around the hangman's neck. They are standing on the rooftop of one of the lower buildings in their zone, with a majestic and colorful view of villains surrounding them on all sides. Fighting their way out of the structure, that was easy, but when they came face to face with the massive resistance up top... A bitter chuckle escapes Bakugou's lips as his eyes trail across the numerous active quirks, razor sharp knives, fists, bared teeth and shapeless instruments of misery, ready to sink into their flesh. Bakugo likes to think that he is intelligent, because he actually is, and his brain arranges a whole dictionary of words and phrases, ranging from 'in a tight spot' or 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' all the way to 'done for', 'screwed'. Finally he settles on f*cked, seeing one of the villains lick his knife, yeah they are very much f*cked.

"Shut up Baku, we can make it!", Kirishima pants next to him. It would be worrying that the idiot probably believes it in any other situation. Right now Katsuki would sell a piece of his liver for that much optimism. Thinking about it, they could take fifty, but this is regiment drawing closer is at least a hundred strong. Even if he got the two of them into the air, they would most likely be intercepted, and plummet to their deaths. If they try to break through, they will be blindsided, flanked and gutted. Even Kirishima must have a weak point, which will be the end of him if the villains find it. And Katsuki is certain they will.

"We are f*cked Eijirou!", Bakugou barks, and a chorus of low, heinous laughter answers them. Telling the truth doesn't do much good, and like hell is he going to give up!

"Ready to die kids?", someone hisses from the crowd, and Katsuki raises his hands. If he is going to go, he will take as many f*ckers with him as he can!

"Come and get it sh*theads!", he hollers, digging his hills into the ground, and pressing his back against Kirishima's for support. Time to f*ck someone up! The villains come crushing at them like a wave of the angry sea.

"Don't fire!", a deep voice thunders straight from above them. Katsuki's head jerks upwards to see the most impossible sight he could have witnessed. Falling from the sky like a red, armored missile is the maker of bentos, the wiper of noses, great teacher, strict father, the unburnt, the shinobi, Madara Uchiha.

"The f*ck?", Katsuki breathes a set of very fitting last words, and immediately shuts down any semblance of a spark in his hands. One thing he learned in the unholy training camp in the mountains, when it comes to fighting an Uchiha never does things half-assed. The other thing he learned, don't stand in Madara Uchiha's way.

"Fire Style: Pillar of ash", Madara yells. A thick cloud of grayish smoke envelops them, cutting of everything, just before a firm arm wraps around his middle. The stench of sulfur and nitric compounds invades his eyes and nose, wrangling tears out of him. Muffled sounds of broken faces and cries of panic and fury reach his ears, as his head starts swimming. And suddenly with a jerk the ground is gone, the thick, sludgy mixture replaced with air the next instant.

"What the f*ck?!", he quips panting, trying to sound angry, but failing miserably. He realizes they are soaring through the air, with him tucked away under Izuku's father's arm. Kirishima is coughing violently under Uchiha-san's other arm. A wave of relief washes over Bakugou, as he understands what has just happened.

"Fear the Hokage Villains!", the man proclaims mid air.

'Why the f*ck did he pick such a dumbass name?', Katsuki ponders, feeling the rush of air on his dirty face.

Moments later, with a loud thud they land on the next building, and their savior drops them like two sacks of potatoes. "You got heavy Katsuki", the man smirks at him, and a pair of red eyes fixes him with a stern look. "Fire Style: Detonation!", Madara hoots, looking away and folding his hands in one of this funny ways, he had seen Izuku practice.

For a moment nothing happens and the thick gray fog explodes into a pillar of blinding flame, leaving Bakugou to realize three things. He has just witnessed a pro at work, Izuku has the same quirk as that pro, he has much to learn. He watches the blazing column rage amongst the buildings, before finally dwindling away. It's only then that he feels Kirishima's fingers digging into his arms. The redhead is shaking him slightly, as though he had trouble believing they just got out alive.

With a sweep of his spiky hair, Madara Uchiha turns to face them. His presence is intimidating, but somehow warm. "You did well Katsuki. Now go find my son! I have to check on other students, I hope this was the bulk of their force", the man orders. Katsuki blinks, and when his eyes open Madara Uchiha is replaced by a puff of white smoke. What had he just seen? Something bitter and hot stirs in his chest. Despite all the training, not only did he not manage to protect anyone, he was the one who needed protection.

***

"Koda, many thanks for participating in this mad banquet of violence", Tokoyami says taking a step back, watching the villains slip out of the side alleys. The two of them put up a good fight, but now they have nowhere left to retreat, all there is left is the last stand. His back bumps into the wall behind them.

"Alas, darkness, old friend. I have come home to roost", he makes the faintest attempt at humor, seeing the multitude of glowing eyes, and glistening knives. Kouda makes a snort next to him. It's encouraging to think that your last words are well received. Even if they put up a powerful defense at some point the villains will break through. And when that happens, they will be pinned, literally, to the wall.

Tokoyami thinks all is lost, when the first villain, a very vivid combination of a hyena and mortal launches at them with a mad cackle. In an instant Dark Shadow is released, ready to defend his master to their last breath. But before their attacks can collide, a rush of air similar to a falling bomb reaches his ears. On pure instinct he pulls back, as the whistle of the compressed air grows in force. He wants to keep his eyes locked on the opponents, but in case this is impeding doom, he looks up to savor it in full. But the view is something beyond his comprehension. Falling from the sky is a man, his hair black as ebony, skin fair as the snow, eyes, well Tokoyami can't see his eyes, but something tells him they are red as blood. A split second later the wingless angel lands in front of the hyena, filling the alleyway with the echo of cracking concrete. Tokoyami can see the bizarre historical armor, sandals, and now, with the man looking over his shoulder, a single shining red eye. The villain is standing just out of the reach of the man's hands.

"Who the f*ck do you think you are?", the hyena-man barks, in broken Japanese, his vocal cords barely capable of uttering human sounds. The red eyes shifts away from them, as their guardian angel directs all his attention to the rude man standing in front of him. In a flash though the villain is flying down the street, the man standing lazily, as though he barely moved.

"You all right boys?", the stranger asks, as the violent winds tear at his hair, revealing a familiar crest etched into his armor's back. He doesn't turn to face them, but his voice is clear despite the rain.

"We require assistance good sir", Tokoyami answers surely. Who is the man of mystery, the wingless protector?

Their savior nods, shadows obscuring his face. With a single step he makes it into the flickering light of the lamppost casting a faint glow from above. It suddenly dawns on Tokoyami, the crest, it's a fan, an Uchiha fan!

"Assistance I shall provide", the man answers solemnly, taking another step towards the villains, who cower back. "Thee who shalt run, taste the fury of the Hokage!", the man exclaims. The conviction, intonation and otherworldly calm captivates the black feathered student's heart, as the man clasps his hands together in bizarre signs.

"Earth Style: Great Mudslide!", their protector bellows into the storm, drowning out the onslaught of rain, as the ground in front of him turns into a rushing river of thick brown sludge, taking everything in its wake.

***

"That was fun", Izuku chimes, wiping his hands on his pants. Despite continuous fighting he feels strong and energetic, he could even say refreshed. Now, whatever this thing standing by Handsy-The-Villain-Chief is, it can certainly be dealt with using either ninjutsu or genjutsu. Something tells him that taijutsu utilized against something this massive is not a very good choice though. His idea is soon put to the test, because the gray haired Villain-In-Command points a finger at him, and the being launches at an incredible speed. In fact it is so fast Izuku can barely keep up using his Sharingan. The beast swipes wildly, forcing him to duck. But Izuku returns the favor quickly.

"Fire Style: Great Fire Ball", he wheezes, before puffing out a huge ball of flame in the monster's face. For a second it stops, severe burns covering all of its upper body, but the next moment the wounds have regenerated. It swats again, forcing Izuku to back off in back flips, shaking off the shock of what he had just witnessed midair. Their dance repeats itself with Izuku applying various tricks here and there, but despite staying on his toes, the monster keeps on gaining on him. He dodges, and feints, once he even snares it in a complex wooden cage, but with a terrifying shrill it breaks his creation into splinters.

Situation is looking rather grim for little Izuku, the beast getting closer and closer to hitting him. In a desperate attempt he shortens the distance, slipping around a punch. In the sudden proximity Izuku slaps an explosive note on the beast's arm,before cartwheeling back. Seconds later he detonates the trap, panting with exertion, in the moment of rest. "What the heck is this thing?", he mutters, kneeling on the ground, watching the cloud of smoke for the faintest movement. Everything is eerily still, did he get it? Slowly Izuku gets to his feet, something is off, his senses pick up on the swirling black miasma in the air. In a split second the Nomu is on him. It's faster then before, too fast to react, even with his Sharingan he can barely keep up! He feels his muscles cramping up, as the idea of death becomes all to real.

He is going to die!

Izuku's eyes scrunch shut, as long muscled fingers nearly reach him. He has a vague sense of impeding doom, as happy memories of childhood start flashing in front of his eyes and static fills his ears...

Chapter 13: The Red Investigator

Chapter Text

Enraged is just one of the many adjectives which could describe Madara Uchiha's mood right now. He could take a page from Katsuki's book, who by the way is rewriting his book in this world, and say he is f*cking pissed. But that would be far from sufficient. Seeing his son fight off a monster on the other side of USJ gets Madara royally, absolutely infuriated. And by that he means devil-from-hell, blood-boiling livid. That state is something that will soon prove very fatal to a group of idiots currently blocking his passage.

There are maybe forty villains in his way, forty soon to be very injured men and women by his standards, when he starts walking. They are all taunting him, baring their teeth, cracking their knuckles and looking delighted that a teacher dared show his face. There is only one question running through Madara's mind as he approaches. Does he look like a bloody teacher?

"Kill him!", a scrawny wimp yells maniacally from the sidelines. He looks too young to buy himself a beer let alone order an attack, and that gets Madara even more riled up. His walk shifts into a slow jog, and soon a full on run, as the stupid baboons stampede towards their doom. His feet pound the ground in huge strides as vicious chakra flares to life saturating every cell in his body, pushing it to do the unimaginable.

Within a fraction of a second his foot collides with a villain's face, sending them flying into the depths of USJ. Madara dodges a punch from the right and applies a kick backwards, one of the villains wraps their tongue around his arm only to be flung overhead, at some other useless runt. Somebody tries hitting him with a baseball bat, the strike is impressive, well timed and strong, but the metal weapon ends up in the f*cker's mouth anyway, rendering the work of even the most capable orthodontist mute. Bit by bit he tares through the unorganized throng of useless pawns. Their fighting level and villainy are aggravating to be truthful. With a nimble spin Madara applies a softened version of the explosive tag, and gets rid of the right flank. Somebody tries grabbing him from the underground, as two villains try ensnaring him is some form of a cobweb simultaneously. It's not very surprising, if anything it's mundane. He grabs the man underground by the hands and tosses him into the air before spin kicking the spider villains away.

His eyes skim over to where his son is again. The creature he is fighting is inhumanly fast. It's a miracle that the boy is still on his feet and unhurt. But his son's struggle is apparent and frightening. The beast destroys Izuku's wooden defense in an instant. Another villain tries to land an attack on Madara, only to be encased in a rocky coffin, while a sound of an explosion echoes throughout the stadium. Madara's head snaps to his son again, the boy is panting, and covered in dirt, standing a few meters away from a thick cloud of smoke produced by an explosive tag. Madara would have thought the fight over if not for the thick black miasma, gathering within the fog...

***

sh*t... I am going to die... Izuku's thoughts come to stalemate, buzzing fills his ears, as a bitter flavor of impeding doom takes to his mouth... Dad...

I didn't get to say goodbye...

"Summoning Jutsu: Rashom*on!", a deep, grounding voice cuts through the hollow silence which has befallen Izuku's senses. It's a thunder, a lightning bolt which shocks his senses back into cognition, letting him witness a miracle.

There is a hollow thump, the feeling of rushing air, and a disgusting crunch of broken bones and ripped flesh colliding with metal. A deafeningly loud shrill echoes through the stadium, before everything falls quiet. For a moment Izuku can't believe he is still alive, and then slowly he opens his eyes.

Standing in front of him is a man in red armor, much like Izuku's own, spiked hair falls on his back. A lazy breeze blows revealing the Uchiha fan etched into the plate on his hero's back.

"Dad!", Izuku gasps, seeing his father's stern expression, half turned to him. The boy's eyes focus, to see a huge gate standing right in front of them. It has a face of a demon etched into thick metal doors, and black frame with red tiled roof. Low thuds echo, as the being on the other side hammers at it with it's inhuman strength, and a tiny crack appears in its center.

"Son, are you all right?", his father asks, worry, anger and love mixed into one jumble of emotions in his voice. If Izuku didn't know better he would come hug his old man. But if he did he would risk hampering their defense. He stands rooted, taking in the surreality of the situation. How has his father gotten here?

"Yes, thanks dad", he answers in a quivering voice. His hands are shaking like leaves, as he watches a tiny smile spread across his father's lips. The gate cracks loudly, and a chunk of it falls to the ground at Madara's feet. So far Izuku wasn't sure what sort of a hero he wanted to be, he always thought that a good hero is like All Might, saving people with a smile. But now the idea redefines itself, he wants to be like his father. He wants to protect people he cares for with his power in split seconds, and at all costs. His dad nods, and Izuku can see the gloved hands clenched into fists. The gate shakes violently again, as the creature tries to break through and finish what it started. The tiles start sliding off the majestic construct, as his father turns, and steps over to him slowly.

"I am proud of you son", he says softly, and a gloved hand ruffles his hairs. Tears press into Izuku's eyes despite the number of times he has heard this praise already. "I will take it from here. Protect the other students for me, will you?", his dad asks, and his hand slips out of his hair. Another chunk of steel falls with a loud clang, and once again Izuku's eyes meet the symbol of their house. In an instant Madara's stance changes, the air about him thickens as Izuku's Sharingan picks up on the unusual amount of chakra released.

"Now! Behold the ultimate power of our bloodline my son!", the man roars, turning his attention to their crumbling defense. The cries of the enraged monster can now be heard clearly, and moments later the barrier explodes into millions of metal, wooden and stone shards. The beast charges at his father in a blur, with an earsplitting noise, punch already flying, ready to break the man standing in front of it. But before the fist can connect blue ribs grow around his savior. Once again there is a noise of crushed meat, but the beast is undeterred. It rages against the bluish barrier, as the ribs transition into an upper body and then a horned skull. Izuku watches awestruck, as the spectacular technique unfolds and grows.

"This, my son, is the Susanoo!", Madara booms, and in a split second the bones cover themselves in sinewy muscle, and then armor. At this point it is taller than any of the arenas, nearly reaching the rooftop. Izuku watches his father's relaxed stance, as just meters away, the punches echo sending shock waves throughout the stadium. He knew his dad is strong, but this, this is beyond comprehension. Will he ever attain such power?

"This is the end wretched creature. Mangenkyo Sharingan: Amaterasu", Madara says calmly. Izuku watches as black flames engulf the beast. They burn with unbelievable ferocity, devouring the creature. The beast tries tearing its skin off, breaking off its limbs, but the flame spreads, and soon it is engulfed completely, sliding to the ground with a hollow shriek. Izuku would have watched the terrifying scene to the very end if not for a pair of strong arms tugging on his shoulders.

***

If he was already infuriated Madara lacks words for what he feels now. It's like the pits of hell have come to earth. Worse! It's like when Hashirama used to watch him piss and he couldn't get a drop out. He turns his Susanoo's face to see pure rage written across the lanky, dim witted face of the boy commanding the villains. Now this he is going to enjoy.

Taking his time he plows forth, swatting the villains out of his way, left and right. Like annoying bugs, they should be crushed underfoot. No man in this realm can equate his power. A vile smile slips onto Madara's face, a full toothed grin so terrifying it could cause nightmares on sight. He has nearly reached the boy when a wad of darkness appears next to him, and in the next instant both are gone. More black holes pop up here and there, and remaining villains quickly start jumping into them, doing their best to get out of the carnage.

"c*nt", Madara mutters under his breath, watching the whole scene with distaste. He was ready to kill that idiot for endangering his son. "You will pay dearly", he adds. The League of Villains may not yet know that, but Madara Uchiha has been onto them for the last month. Tracking watching, having his clones tail them. They were difficult to find, and he promised himself that he will refrain from acts of unnecessary violence. But this, this act will be very necessary.

***

"Come on Izuku. We gotta get out of here! What's Madara-san doing here?! What's with your eyes?!", Eijirou is suddenly in his face. Big hands clutch at his shoulders, while red eyes stare at his father's gargantuan creation. Izuku blinks at him stupidly, shocked to see the redhead of all people here. Standing right behind him is Kacchan. It's lucky they didn't get hurt, they must have handled themselves splendidly. Both look bruised, and tattered, but at least they aren't wounded. A wave of relief washes over Izuku as he realizes how much harder this ambush must have been on them.

"I am so glad you are not hurt!", Izuku beams pulling Eijirou into a brief hug and making Kacchan scoff. Just then he realizes, he should be feeling guilty. He was having fun, enjoying the fight, when one of his friends could have gotten hurt. Worse yet, they could have died!

"Dad saved me. Eyes are not important. Let's go, we need to get out of here", he quickly answers before either of the boys can squeeze in any more questions. In a flash he pulls them along, towards the huge stairs. He has got a plan already in place, once he gets Katsuki and Eijirou out of the way he is going to go back and fetch other students. Hopefully everyone is all right.

Running with Katsuki and Eijirou has a certain drawback. They are already gathering a small tail of perusers, willing to take their heads. Luckily they are close to the staircase already. Throwing a glance over his arm, he sees the blue body of his father's Susanoo wrecking havoc on the bulk of the forces, who aren't fast enough to retreat.

"Up the stairs guys. Dad asked me find other students!", he pipes up. He watches the incredulous expression form on Eijirou's face, but before the redhead can say anything Kacchan gives him a quick nod and pulls Kirishima along towards safety. The group of villains stop in a semi circle around him, watching him cautiously. There is but a handful of them.

"Get the kid, he is our ticket out of this", a black skinned lady with a face straight out of Mordor's hottest plastic surgeon barks. They got grit, he has to give them that. It is at that moment that Izuku gets a certain very crazy idea. A sly grin spreads on his lips, as he watches the villains inch closer, unwilling to attack in earnest.

Tiger. His hands fold the seals so fast that they turn into a blur. "Fire Style: Wall of Flame", he barks, before taking in a huge breath, and cutting the villains off. The moment he finishes the technique, the doors to USJ are blown off their hinges with a single punch.

***

A good dinner, and a shortened training session with their neighborhood brainwasher do miracles for Madara's nerves. And they really needed that miracle. The results of the USJ debacle were unfavorable for his stress levels. Aizawa-sensei turned up, he was wounded, but not too badly taking into account the number of villains swarming the area. Midnight was pissed that he disappeared on her, but taking into account the showcase of his abilities and numerous student testimonials she was forced to let him pass. Both of the Uchihas reasonably omitted the fact that the Nomu, as the villains called it, was incinerated. Apart from that All Might showed up, maybe to handle the clean up, who knows. So overall it was good.

That though doesn't mean he is not pissed, and not going to burn this League of Villains into the ground. However rather softened by the delicious roast he cooked up today, the aggressive Shinobi gives into his nicer side. Standing in front of the thick metal doors in a dingy underground parking lot, he wonders what would Hashirama do. He tracked this place as the main location of all operations for the League of Villains. The lot is creepy, crawly, and slimy, in other words, perfect. Hashirama always said to knock before breaking down the doors, he remembers, and raps his fingers against the hardened metal. Madara does not expect an answer, but a small shutter slides open, and a pair of goat eyes peeks at him from within.

"Red Investigator, here to see League of Villains on a private matter", he states blandly. He is not here as a hero, but his name as a private investigator tends to open doors in the underworld. The slider shuts, and he gives them a whole thirty seconds before his patience runs out, and the magic of the beef roast stops working.

With a mighty kick, he sends the doors inwards, soaring down a long corridor, smashing any villain unfortunate enough to stand between them and the wall about fifteen meters away. A small troop of evildoing soldiers charges down the halls. Are they some sort of idiots? Does he have to go over what his signature move is? A fire ball, a fire ball in an enclosed is like five fireballs! Madara steps inside and wipes his shoes, before forming a Tiger Seal, and turning them into a very intriguing collection of bones and ash. Lesson learned, he concludes, rubbing his hands together. He isn't going to be engaging in any taijutsu in his favorite suit now is he?

Slowly he navigates down the creepy corridor. It's not long, and despite a sudden spike in heating it still gives him the chills. Something is seriously f*cked up with people who live here.

"Hellooo", he calls, in his sweetest voice, stepping through a singed doorway. Someone tries to stab him with a knife, only for it to be redirected at the assailant's jugular. For a moment his own dispassionate, red eyes lock with something close to shock and fear, "You are going to die. You shouldn't have done that", he informs the man before jerking the knife out of his neck. The villain falls to the floor spouting blood, and convulsing, as the remnants of life slip away. "Ah, now I am going to have to clean my shoes", Madara mutters, looking at the red drops dusting the black oxfords. With a huff he steps out, to continue his eradication, or maybe extermination?

Finally he reaches the last room, it's situated behind a turn, and surprisingly the fire hasn't reached it. A soft light seeps through the crack under the door. It's warm and inviting, and with some luck the upper echelon of the League of Villains will be there. At this point Madara is ready to acknowledge that his rage has cooled down a bit, and perhaps they can come to an understanding. After all they ought to know by now that there is no running from him. The bloodied knife in his right weighs heavily. Neither Inko nor Izuku would be happy to learn something like this happened, but he is doing it for his son's safety. They would understand at least that much, wouldn't they? Madara wonders, as his hand rests on the doorknob. He takes in one, last, calming breath, and decides to try his best at a peaceful resolution, even if it seems a bit late.

Tossing the knife up and down, he slides the doors open to reveal a long table with three men sitting behind it. Seems like he got the point across. There is the runt with gray hair, only now the hands plastered all over him are missing. Madara can see the patchy, dry skin, and malice mixed with madness barely hidden in his eyes. It's unsettling, because madmen can't be reasoned with. Next to him sits someone who could very well be a bartender, albeit a creepy one. Made of black fog with two slits of gold for eyes, he is unreadable. Just the faintest swirl of chakra proves he is at all human, not just another one of these monsters, Nomus. Sitting at the head of the table, between them, is a man in a perfectly made, pitch black suit. His breathing is heavy, and labored, it sort of reminds Madara of this character from a movie Izuku made him watch long ago, Star Battles, Star Conquest, Star, oh whatever. The fact that the man is wearing a large black helmet, makes the idea even more likely. But his sense of humor is quickly overpowered by reason. This man is the cause of over three hundred villains coming to USJ today. They are silent, but the leader gestures towards a seat on the other end. Madara takes it willingly, it's soft, with red cushioning under his back and bottom, and armrests fashioned much the same way. He places the bloodied knife on the table and nods at each of them in order, before the man made of black mist, Kurogiri, clears his something, because he certainly hasn't got a throat.

"The League of Villains has gathered here in order to accommodate the famed Red Investigator", Kurogiri states calmly. Ah, so they want to negotiate. Good, maybe they can get somewhere. "May we ask what is the matter of this meeting?", the black mist adds. Do these f*ckers have problems with their hippocampus? Madara raises an eyebrow lazily in response, but as the silence lengthens he finally deems them incapable of logical thought.

"You have attacked a school facility. A school I work for, a school children attend, a school my son attends", he states calmly. His heart isn't racing, nor his palms sweating, he has brokered with the Second Tsuchikage, compared to him these men are nothing. The teenager, now without hands plastered all over him smirks, and gives a low chuckle. The man in the helmet nods in understanding. "Now in my understanding a handful of students, one hero examinee and two Pro Heroes have taken down some three hundred villains and a superweapon of sorts you commanded. I am stating this because I notice your deduction skills lacking", he bites, and watches a scowl form on the teenager's face. Oh no, just a little more goading and this kid is going to go ballistic. As chance would have it, Madara loses his ability to control his tongue at that moment.

"You seem to seek reassurance that UA will be off limits to villain activity, as will the students?", a scratchy voice, rasps from underneath the helmet. If anything he seeks the League's utter destruction, but in the nature of a peaceful negotiation such terms are acceptable.

"What do you mean off limits?!", the teenager barks petulantly. Kurogiri seems to click his tongue at that.

"That's satisfactory. If anyone affiliated with your organization trespasses on these terms I will terminate your structures", Madara says blankly, and rises to his feet. His rage simmered down, with the treaty in place there is no further risks and these idiots know their place, it's under his boot, ready to be squashed. A faint sound of steps reaches his ears, and he spins around, the gray haired boy is flying at him, hand outstretched, grinning like a cat at a mouse. Only Madara Uchiha is no mouse, he is a lion. He sidesteps the attack, pushing his chair away, and swipes the knife off the table. With a single swing he cleaves off the teenager's hand. Tomura, crashes into the wall, and starts crying in pain, when Madara chucks the blade under his nose.

"Sensei, Kurogiri. It was a pleasure. Teach your apprentice some manners, because next time I will simply take his head", he snaps before storming out the way he came.

Chapter 14: The needles of the past

Chapter Text

"Man, I'm stuffed!", Izuku hoots, collapsing happily onto his back. He sighs contently as the delicious roast his dad prepared spreads the feeling of being sated throughout his organism. His cheeks sting slightly, and the whole ordeal of fighting with villains just a couple of hours earlier weighs heavily on his mind, but at least his body feels better now. He took a shower, but maybe later he could also do with a bath. After all down in the basem*nt his father had built a room especially for relaxing after long days of work and school.

"What do we say after a good dinner son?", dad asks teasingly. Izuku is tempted to laugh, does his dad not know how delicious his cuisine is that he always needs to be complimented. Or maybe the old man is simply this vain. Speaking of, they are celebrating, his father is finally a hero!

"It was delicious! Thanks dad!", Izuku chirps, not bothering to look up. By now he already knows the self-satisfied smirk of his father's by heart. Meanwhile the munching noises continue. Perhaps Susanoo takes a lot of calories to create? Or maybe it's just that his dad is a closeted glutton.

However soon his mind swings back to the events following All Might's arrival. The boisterous hero, burst into the satellite facility only to find it largely deserted, apart from a group of students, one very impressed examiner, one very tired and bruised teacher, Thirteen who needed hospitalization but they were certain he is going to pull through, and of course Madara Uchiha, or rather pro hero Hokage. Luckily after a few nerve-wrecking minutes the few missing students were found. For some bizarre reason Tokoyami, Koda, Eijirou and Kacchan deemed it necessary to bow to his father. Also Ojiro was pretty badly beat up, but that could be explained by the fact that he plowed through anything and anyone standing between him and Hagakure's safety. Despite that, when the girl thanked 'her hero' the blond could only blush and stutter out a short 'no problem'. Damn did he have it in for her. Maybe he can get Kacchan and Eijirou to help him bring the two closer together? But he is going off on a tangent again!

Only on the way back to school did Izuku learn the reasons for his friend's bizarre behavior. When he first inquired Kacchan seemed to want to bite his head off, while Kirishima lit up like a very wolfish Christmas tree, and started rambling about how manly his dad was. How he manly jumped into the center of the fight and in a manly swoop saved their butts. At that Kacchan's teeth grounding together started drowning out the remainder of the story. Surprisingly Tokoyami said pretty much the same thing, albeit better worded. How did it go? Oh, yes. A man, clad in armor red as blood, with hair dark as ebony, and skin white as snow protected their young lives from being snuffed out before their due. The bird was quite poetic, Izuku had to give him that, even if the description did remind him of some Disney princess well known for living with seven dwarfs. Counting himself, his dad saved five people, while Izuku was so caught up in enjoying the fight he completely forgot about his classmates. The pleasant salty aftertaste of dinner suddenly turns bitter in Izuku's mouth, as his unheroic behavior catches up. Silently he promises to himself that no matter what he will always look out for his classmates and family, just like his father did for him today. He is going to be the next Hokage! The thought is punctuated with a small, albeit determined fist pump.

He turns his head to watch his dad, his hero. The man is unperturbed, and apparently all the fighting caused him to build up quite an appetite, as he is devouring his third, copious helping. His face is somewhat grim, but nothing very far off from the usual resting-brooding-face, which he wears when he thinks nobody is watching. Some of his spiky mane is falling over his right eye obscuring it. Experimentally Izuku covers his own with his hand. How does his dad function like that? Maybe he should get him some hair pins, he could ask Ochako about that, she seems to know a bit about fashion. Then again there is the fact that as far as clothing goes his father has no sense.

"You are going to get fat if you eat that much", Izuku hums, and giggles seeing how abruptly his dad stops chewing. He is shot a very menacing glare, but it has none of the bite behind it making the grown man look more like a petulant child.

After a few moments his father swallows, and sticks his tongue out, just like a child would. "I am hurrying up, because I have got an errand to run", the man explains, and brushes a stray, spiky strand out of his eyes. Those eyes, Izuku could have sworn that what he had seen was not the normal Sharingan back at USJ. It must have been the Mangenkyo! And the Susanoo, that was new. His father told him about Amatserasu and Tsukuyomi, but he never expected the former to be this destructive. He felt sorry for the horrid creature. Even if it was mindless, wasn't it alive, maybe once it was even human? It surely looked human.

"An errand?", he questions after a moment of pondering the morally gray area which became a norm for the Uchiha clan. What sort of an errand could his father be running at this hour. Beside Hitoshi would be coming any minute now, who would be training him? Because the current jutsu Izuku planned on employing was 'Afternoon Style: Eternal Slumberfest', and he was pretty sure Hitoshi wouldn't be apt for joining in on that no matter how warm he looked.

"Oh I have to meet someone to discuss hero agency paperwork with", his father waves him off, and restarts stuffing his face. Of course! Hero agency! Where would it be? Why hasn't dad told him its name yet?!

"Umm... dad, you haven't told me what the name of the agency is yet? Also I know what your hero name is only from my friends.", Izuku asks, propping himself up on his elbows to better judge his father's reaction. He can already see the surprise at the tiny oversight slip onto his father's face. The man quickly deposits the empty bowl of rice on the table and puts his chopsticks on it, before turning to face him.

"For starters, my hero name is Hokage, and my agency will be called Konohagakure no sato. I took the liberty of putting its symbol on your forehead protector", the adult says with a warm smile. There is a bit of sauce stuck to the corner of his lips, making the somewhat serious, familiar scene completely lose its tone. But Izuku doesn't notice that, already deep in his thoughts.

"The fire shadow? The village hidden in the leaves?", he mutters the names with a small pout. As much as he can understand why his father would chose such a name for himself, he is completely out of understanding for the one given to the hero agency. It's long, and kind of hard to remember, completely unlike Iida's brother's. Iidaten, quick and simple. He is shaken out of his reverie, by the soft sound of the doorbell. His father is once again inhaling the remnants of the delicious dinner he cooked up, leaving him on door duty. Damn, he was already getting comfortable. Maybe if he pretends not to notice father will get it.

"Be a good son and train Hitoshi for me today?", his dearest dad asks in a light tone. There isn't really much room to argue, it's not like he wouldn't train the purple haired, tall boy, but after the events of this afternoon he would kill for a nap and bath, preferably simultaneously. Maybe he can actually force Hitoshi into these. He could call it genjutsu resistance training. At the same time he is weirdly excited to be hanging out with the future shinobi.

"Yes, dad", he mumbles, rolling backwards and slowly pattering to the doors.

As expected, standing behind them is his tall friend, Hitoshi. As always he looks as though he hadn't slept in a decade, seen the sun in a century, and smells like a damned patisserie. Really he could tone it down on the damned cinnamon scented deodorant. Still, if he wasn't so tired he would be absolutely overjoyed to see him.

"Hi Hitoshi", Izuku yawns, and winces when the pull on his skin tugs at his slightly burned cheeks. After a certain number of burns you tend to forget that they are really there. A gentle hand grasps his chin, tilting his head upwards, and shocking Izuku back into reality.

"Tsk", Hitoshi clicks his tongue, turning his head this way and that. Whats the matter with him? Izuku suddenly feels very self conscious, as warmth creeps up his neck.

"Hey, I am all right", Izuku mutters pulling away from the sudden touch. Not that he doesn't appreciate being doted on, but it was a bit unexpected, and caused a fair amount of blush to creep its way onto the tips of his ears too. "Umm... sorry", he adds under his breath, lowering his eyes, and kicking his bare foot at the floor. What the hell was that?! Why is he blushing?

"Not a problem. May I come in?", Hitoshi asks, and a large hand clamps on Izuku's shoulder, startling him further. A quick glance tells him it's his father wearing one of his favorite blood red suits, the same one he always wears when going out to work as an investigator. Is that errand possibly work related? Izuku narrows his eyes, trying to figure out if there is actually kunai hidden in the sleeves.

"Hi Hitoshi. I must leave, urgently, but Izuku will take care to train you today. Let's try walking up the wall for an hour for chakra control, and keep practicing simple genjutsu", dad instructs, already pushing past Izuku and their guest. Where is he off to in such a hurry? Izuku was already tempted to follow him on the mysterious errand, but now the need to know is nearly overpowering, "Izuku, my son, if you follow me I will ground you!", the man sing songs diving into his car, and leaving the young Uchiha slack jawed. Was there a jutsu for reading minds?!

***

The moment the door clicks shut behind him Hitoshi can't take his eyes off of the boy in front of him. For some reason the normally adorable, yet hardened boy seems strangely vulnerable. What's even weirder is the fact that Izuku seems to pay absolutely no mind to the burns on his cheeks. They aren't serious, but it's a bit strange, like his mind was so crowded that it left little room for down to earth thinking. At the same time it wasn't anything that out of the ordinary. Wasn't Izuku just in a life threatening situation? Hitoshi remembers how worried he was when he heard about the attack. He also recalls how astounding it was to learn that supposedly some hero examinee chased the villains away practically singlehandedly. Someone who was going by the name Hokage.

"Izuku?", Hitoshi queries, as he is being led past the spacious living room and towards the garden. This time around he brought his own set of sweats. Not that he didn't enjoy the Uchiha style of fashion, but he liked his own clothes better. Of course Izuku couldn't escape his father's horrid fashion taste. The boy is wearing navy shorts and a tshirt with the Uchiha fan on the back. It leaves Hitoshi wondering, do the Uchihas have anything without the crest on the back?

"Yes Hitoshi?", the green haired boy turns on his heel, snapping to attention. It's hard to comprehend how a hardened, well trained guy like Izuku could turn into a complete airhead in a span of an afternoon. Then again, a promise of death can do that to anybody.

"Are you all right?", he asks, watching intently for some reaction. Izuku flinches slightly at being put in the spotlight so suddenly, but that's all the confirmation Hitoshi needs. Before the green haired boy can open his mouth, he shrugs off his backpack, and wraps his hand around Izuku's wrist. For a boy so small it is surprisingly thick. "Come on, let's get some cream on your cheeks, they look kinda bad", Hitoshi says calmly. The emerald eyes catch his own lilac ones. For a few moments he feels like he is drowning, as his heart hammers frantically in his chest.

"Yeah. Sorry, I am just a bit out of it", Izuku mumbles, but allows himself to be pulled along.

***

"All right, sit on the edge of the bathtub, and try not to squirm even if it hurts", Hitoshi instructs, putting a generous amount of the white lotion on his fingers. It feels nice taking care of the smaller boy. After all he would have never pegged the guy who took down three bullies with a genjutsu, as someone who needed the helping hand once in a while. It's cool to see the softer side.

Slowly he touches the slightly burned skin, trying his best to dab the cream on as gently as possible. Nevertheless Izuku makes a distressed noise, sort of like a scared little rabbit. It's endearing, big, bad Uchiha, squirming because of a few burns. Hitoshi chuckles to himself, as he slowly covers the burn. It's not as bad as it looks actually, it will probably go away on its own in just a few days. At least that's what Hitoshi figures, he hasn't got all that much expertise in the area.

"So what happened?", he asks, trying to make conversation. Normally he would have been more delighted at the prospect of finding himself in the situation he is in now, but somehow seeing Izuku so vulnerable makes his heart ache. Lately he has been thinking, could he use genjutsu to help people?

Izuku exhales deeply. He is building up to something, probably the recount of his fight at USJ. His first real throwdown with the villains. Knowing Izuku he beat the crap out of them, but something must have happened to shake him so much. "So, when we were getting there we were told that there was going to be a hero exam. And I figured it was going to be my dad there. But once we got there... There were these villains. One of them had this strange warping quirk, and warped us all over the place. I managed to hold my own pretty good, but then there came this monster, and I thought I was going to die", Izuku says, his voice breaks on the last word, and eyes tear up, memories probably resurfacing. Hitoshi notices how the small hands are clasped tightly on the edge of the bathtub, turning white with force. Before he can stop himself, he pulls Izuku into a hug. The lotion soaks into his shirt, as Izuku starts a muffled recount of what followed. Madara-san saved him, and killed the Nomu, burned it to ashes with Amatserasu, whatever that is, probably some sort of a fire technique. Izuku starts wheezing, as the mumbles shift into incoherent sentences torn out of context, about how he ought to have been out there saving his friends too, instead of enjoying the fight. Hitoshi's hand traces circles into Izuku's back, as the boy hiccups for a few minutes more, disappointment pouring out of him.

"It's not your fault. You did your best", Hitoshi mutters pulling away. Izuku's eyes are red, and puffy from crying, and a sad smile is plastered to his face. It's rare for humans to smile while in sorrow. Nevertheless it's as beautiful of any of the self-confident, radiant or boisterous smiles the green headed boy has already gifted him.

"I should have done better", Izuku mutters peering into his eyes. They are so close that Hitoshi can see the tiny bluish specs dotting the green irises. They look like tiny spirit fires.

"You did your best", Hitoshi repeats, giving Izuku's shoulders a gentle squeeze, "I think you did the best", he adds for a good measure. The lotion is now smeared all over Izuku's face and Hitoshi's shirt. Somehow he can't bring himself to mind. Maybe he should he talk about this outburst to Madara-san. The man seems understanding, a truly perfect father, so why did he leave so quickly instead of spending time with his son, especially since the boy was evidently distressed?

"Thanks", Izuku answers sniffling, and rubbing at his eyes furiously. Slowly the green haired boy calms down, while Hitoshi dabs the lotion back onto his cheeks. Seems like he will be borrowing some of the Uchiha wardrobe anyhow. "We still got your training to handle today", Izuku adds after a moment of silence, his smile already more lively.

***

"All right. Now breathe and remember genjutsu is an illusion. You must make me believe it completely", Izuku coaches. Hell how is he to make him believe his hair is bloody orange?! Hitoshi clasps his hands together with a huff. "Try again!", the smaller boy encourages, with a blinding smile. All signs of his earlier breakdown are now gone, save for the slight puffiness of his eyes. The smile makes Hitoshi's insides liquefy. Maybe he could somehow persuade Madara-san into more frequent tutoring lessons with his son?

Sitting on the floor in the living room feels much more pleasant than the cold earth outside too. Besides Izuku absolutely doesn't believe in all the 'natural energy' stories the hero keeps on repeating.

Hitoshi refocuses his chakra. He practiced all day. It were minor things, like making someone get him coffee, or believing that they are left handed, but he was slowly starting to get the hang of it. Darn were these Uchihas resistant to genjutsu. Planting even the simplest ideas was difficult, and Izuku seemed twice as adept at spotting discrepancies as his dad. He was trying to dye his head orange for the last hour, and despite getting better he couldn't get it right.

Hitoshi grits his teeth, pushing the genjutsu forward. Today he figured out that it is not about the brute force of genjutsu, and that was apparently what his quirk did, it simply overpowered the brain, but about how well everything fits in. That way he could make do on his 'average' chakra pool without getting tired. He still has no clue what average means for a man who supposedly created an ethereal, impenetrable, blue giant. Never the less, he threads his chakra around various structures, slowly turning every green strand a vibrant orange color. In his mind's eye he sees Izuku turn even more adorable. The hair nicely supplements his green eyes, and gives him a puppy like look.

"Yeah. That's good enough", Izuku chimes, his eyes closed, "I actually look pretty good in orange", the boy muses. He has no idea how delicious he looks in the color, does he? The next moment his genjutsu is dispersed. "Very well done. I think next up would be trying something more damaging, but I think it would be best for my dad to teach you that", Izuku hums, scratching the back of his head, "So we will move on to walking on walls", he adds, getting up and extending his hand. Hitoshi grabs it, it's much smaller than his own, but has impressive strength hidden within. With a quick jerk he is hoisted to his feet.

***

No way in hell is he prepared for this! No, no, NO!

"Come on. It's just a bath, it's huge. Kacchan and I used to do it a lot!", Izuku pleads and sends him a very bad case of puppy eyes. Jeez, Hitoshi feels like he just kicked a puppy, this is worse than genjutsu, because he can't defend against it! He is taller, and heavier, and yet Izuku is practically manhandling him down the stairs to the basem*nt.

"Guys don't take baths together!", he snaps in desperation. No way is he prepared to take a bath with his crush! No bloody way!

"Of course they do. I take a bath with my dad a lot. It would be an awful waste to heat up water twice", the greenhead chimes, and picks him up, apparently tired of discussing it further.

"He is your family!", Hitoshi wheezes, his friend's shoulder digging into his diaphragm, efficiently making lengthier arguments completely inaccessible.

"You are my friend, that's practically like family", Izuku chimes, as they enter a room covered in stone. From his viewpoint Hitoshi can see quite a large bath, set into the floor, and a row of taps to wash down beforehand. Seems like his case is doomed. The realization sends blood flowing into his usually pale face. Before he can ponder his predicament any further he is set on his feet. "All right. We don't really have lockers. Just throw your clothes into these boxes here", Izuku instructs, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Hitoshi's eyes grow comically large as he sees a grade A+ sixpack, and pecks that could probably crack a nut between them. How the hell is he supposed to take of his shirt now? He looks like a skeleton?!

"Come on", Izuku encourages, undoing his belt. Hitoshi turns abruptly and glues his eyes to the plain woven box in front of him, before he can get any ideas, like peeping. His heart hammers wildly, realizing his crush is right there. With stiff hands he slips his shirt over his head, and dumps it into the basket.

"Darn it. Seems like I am going to have to tell dad to add taijutsu to genjutsu", Izuku chirps, earning a disgruntled glare. The upside is that he now got to see Izuku fully naked, does this Uchiha have any shame?! The downside is... he got to see Izuku naked. Hitoshi turns his attention back to his belt. He isn't going to be able to live through this. He slips out of his jeans, and a sudden pat on the back nearly catches him off balance.

"Don't worry. It's only hard for the first couple of years. At least it was for me. Never really had a knack for martial arts. Ninjutsu though, that's a whole other matter", Izuku rattles away excitedly, as Hitoshi tries to keep his blush under control. By now it is probably covering half of his body, damn it! At least that's how it feels like, irritating warmth all over.

"I'll do my best", he grunts. He is so embarrassed that he can't even bring himself to form a coherent comeback, let alone be offended at the claim that he is muscleless. So what if he is?! He wasn't trained by a hero practically since birth! He can feel Izuku's innocent gaze drill holes into his back, as he hooks his thumbs around the top of his boxers. He curses his crush, his lack of assertiveness, the stupidly luxurious baths, and Izuku's complete and utter lack of shame, before finally pulling them off.

"Pass me the towel", he mumbles, trying to keep his ears out of turning crimson. Unlike some people he doesn't feel confident enough to parade with his junk out.

"Towel?", Izuku asks innocently, and Hitoshi pretends not to boil on the inside.

In ultimate defeat, Hitoshi sighs dejectedly, and decides that hands are as good to cover up as anything.

As they wash up Izuku turns into a chatterbox, a true treasure cove of genjutsu knowledge. It takes some time, but Hitoshi grows more relaxed, as warm water mixed with soap trickles down his body onto the stone floor. The tiles are surprisingly warm, unlike his home the Uchiha must have heated floors. Anyhow, he learns that there were some notable genjutsu experts in the Uchiha clan, most utilizing their Sharingan, which lets them find discrepancies in illusions almost instantly. But Hitoshi's ability to overpower someone by slamming their mind with chakra is simply put impressive. A smug smirk slips onto Shinsou's lips as he dumps a bucket of water on his head. His hair plasters onto his forehead taking at least three inches off of his height.

"Hey, Hitoshi. Could you get my back? I'll get yours!", Izuku requests, and Hitoshi's heart stops.

***

The bath is hot and relaxing. Izuku seems on the verge of falling asleep, his head tilted back, and submerged from the neck down.

"Hey Hitoshi, could you tell me some more about your family?", Izuku asks sleepily. If he wanted a lullaby he just needed to say so.

"Well, what would you like to know?", Hitoshi shoots back, sinking lower. If this is what the Uchiha household is like he can't wait to see the agency. Maybe Madara-san will place baths in the underground too...

"Hmm... Do you have grandparent?", Izuku asks. Thinking about it, the boy never said anything about his own, so maybe he misses them a little bit. Then again, Izuku didn't say much about his mother either and every time he came by he only met Madara-san.

"Yeah. I never met my dad's parents. My mother's parents passed away last year too. But I really liked spending time with my grandma. She could play the most beautiful songs on her flute", Hitoshi answers, remembering how, when he was young granny would pull out her flute, and play lullaby's for him. It is a shame he never got to master the instrument. It was still lying somewhere in his desk, a reminder of good times. Maybe he should pick it up again.

"What was she like?", Izuku asks, his eyes closed. Hitoshi's heart melts a little bit, as he watches the boy relax.

"She was gentle. And she loved music. She used to bake the best cranberry pies", Hitoshi muses, remembering his earlier birthdays.

"What was her name?", Izuku mumbles and yawns loudly. The boy seems on the verge of falling asleep, but Hitoshi can't bring himself to shake his friend awake.

"Tayuya", he answers, recalling the fair skin, and once light red hair. Many times over he wished to have such pretty hair instead of his own purplish hue. He recalls the brown eyes, and the words she said to him when they had their last conversation. 'You are so very special Hitoshi. More so than you realize. It's a shame I didn't see it sooner'. Hitoshi shakes his head, and looks at Izuku, who is now snoring softly, one arm out on the edge of the bath, and his head resting on it.Shinsou reaches to wake him up, but just before he can touch Izuku's skin, he shrinks back. Maybehe can give Izuku a few more minutes of shut eye.

Hitoshi turns to rest his back against the stone, a stack of fresh, white towels catches his eyes. A content hum, escapes his throat, as a smirk slips onto his lips.

Chapter 15: Author break

Chapter Text

Hi everyone!

This is not a full chapter, but since updates are usually rather frequent, I feel like you deserve an explanation.

Currently I am writing my thesis, and I am hard pressed to finish it. Also despite the topic seeming rather mundane, the correct approach forces me to make some tough choices.

As such until 01.03.2018 I am hanging up my writing pen. No new chapters will be published, even though one is almost finished. I am very sorry, but this degree is something I very much care about and will have done by that date.

Be not afraid. The story will continue.

Best regards,

Werekoala

Chapter 16: Gratitude and Siblings

Chapter Text

First day of a brand new job, armor polished and shined, hair so spiky he could very well impale someone on it, comfy sandals, eyes red like bell peppers and boredom so excruciatingly crushing he could very well die if not for his brilliant son. First day of patrol finds Madara jumping from roof to roof, searching for anything significant. And yet, as though to spite him everything is eerily uneventful. His shift started midday, well he started it midday. After all despite currently occupying the position of the least publicly known hero, he owns his own agency, due to a lot of string pulling done by a certain furry client of his, and a good word put in by another client who seems to cough up more blood than absolutely necessary. And that's how by the time school is out for the day Madara has already taken care of about a dozen petty thefts, and one minor villain who thought they can take a shopkeeper hostage. He was starting to miss the action which accompanied the USJ incident or his other job. At least there he could go all out. Here, well, some of those villain's arms snapped like twigs, frail idiots thinking they can take on Madara Uchiha! The only highlight of the day was assisting the police in a supposed murderer case. It involved some sort of a video. An absolutely abstract one! Lot's of bright rings on a black screen, some woman combing her hair and so forth. Really puzzling and a bit creepy if he was to be honest, even by his standards and he has seen and done all kinds of weird in his time.

Standing atop the ledge he pulled out the frayed photo he kept well hidden in his wallet, wondering what the funny feeling in his chest was. Unbeknown to the mightiest of the shinobi he was feeling gratified. For what Madara did not notice, at least not yet, were the warm smiles of the women he protected from thieves and the weight of the small packaged bento in satchel on his back.

"You would have loved this school", he muttered looking up at the good view of the school grounds. It's been almost fifteen years, and yet he never stopped missing her, not even for a day. On quieter nights when he would lay down in the cold bed he wondered whether this was the true love Hashirama kept yapping about when they had too much sake between the two of them. It probably was, after all what could compare?

Madara sighed deeply, before stuffing the wallet back into his satchel. His stomach growled in warning, reminding him that it's high time for lunch, as his fingers skimmed over the small box bringing back the memory of the aged man in the shop, and reminding him of the strange warmth pooling in his chest. This whole hero thing, it made him feel uncomfortable, squirming on the spot when people thanked him. Fear, yes he was used to that, but gratitude. Not coming from his son it felt foreign, and yet so genuine...

A few moment later he was tearing away the wrapper and admiring the glass slab of UA High. To think not that long ago he wouldn't imagine such a world possible. A faint sound of the bell tells him the lessons have just ended, and the students are streaming out of the gates of UA, chatting away animatedly, as though the events of two days past have never happened. Amongst them his son, with his frivolous green hair, is easy to spot. Surrounded by his friends he is nearly waving his hands in the air with excitement, probably talking about some hero he saw on TV or today's hero classes. Madara sighs fondly watching the boy, and stuffs another piece of omelet into his mouth.

It is precisely in that moment when someone calls his private number. Grumbling, he swallows the surprisingly delicious treat, and wonders which of his mega-premium clients chose to interrupt his lunch. Know this, Madara Uchiha does not give his private number out like candy, so it's either an emergency, or one of the few people 'who have him on retainer'. However when he looks at the caller ID he can't recognize it. Furrowing his brows he picks up.

"Madara Uchiha speaking", he answers. Whoever this is they could just have the wrong number. It's not like it didn't happen before, and cause quite a misunderstanding leading up to an arrest of one of Yakuza's most prominent bosses.

"Seven days", a hoarse female voice echoes in the receiver. Madara blinks dumbfounded. 'What the hell?', he wonders, as the voice repeats itself. Whoever is on the other side of the receiver disconnects promptly leaving the shinobi staring down at the screen.

"Seven days, hmmmm? Do not disappoint me", he says into the warm afternoon air, smirking slightly as soon as he regains his bearings. Hopefully this is a villain worth his time, or at the very least their salt.

His eyes once again settle on the school courtyard, noting the few lingering students. Amongst them he finds the blond who caught his attention during the USJ incident. He distinctly remembers he saw that kid after Todoroki left the landslide zone, seemingly having dealt with the villains. However there was an invisible girl staying there, trying to mask her presence. But young Todoroki didn't anticipate that the villains would attempt retaking the location. The girl, thanks to her quirk, tried slipping through, but when she was discovered the villains started chasing her down. If not for the boy, who tore through them with a ferocity of a hornet and a power of a bull, Madara would have been forced to intervene like in other cases. It was really quite an impressive sight to watch the seemingly calm man become a war machine, especially since the boy didn't really have a quirk that impressive to begin with. Speaking of, Madara tries recalling the boy's name, it was Ojiro, yes, Mashirao Ojiro. Wasn't it the guy who was paired with Izuku for his first heroics class?, he ponders watching the duo interact. The girl is leaning in, her limited visible body language showing rapt interest. Mashirao seems flustered, but welcomes her advances, only sometimes replying with something and ducking his head to hide his red cheeks.

"Oh, to be young again", Madara chuckles nabbing another bite from his lunch, a small rice ball this time.

The teenagers below talk for a few moments, before the invisible girl spins around and walks of swinging her hips. Ojiro watches her go for a while, his mouth just slightly open, and Madara is hard forced to bite back a snort.

"Turn around, turn around", Madara mutters, watching the girl depart with rapt interest. She is almost gone when she throws one last glance over her shoulder, stunning the blond, who's face is graced by one of the purest smiles the shinobi has ever seen.

Madara releases a happy sigh, as Ojiro turns around and starts walking, the dopey grin still plastered to his face. He stabs his fingers into his bento box only to feel them scrape the bottom with the sound of his growing disappointment.

"Oh", he releases a small gasp, "Darn, I have eaten all of it already", he mutters, packing quickly. He has an hour or two left to the end of his shift, so he may as well have some fun and follow the lovestruck Mr. Monkey around for a while. With that in mind he sets of along the rooftops again. Besides, he really wants to see what his little shinobi can come up with on his own for the sports festival.

***

Almost an hour later their shared trip finally ends in a shady part of town when Mashirao stops walking in front of a rather rundown building with a small garden and a green metal gate. It wasn't long after his arrival that Madara learned the ugly truth about how heroes operated, and that is that for the most part they were attention whor*s willing to prostitute themselves to any extent for media coverage. That caused most of the cities to be divided between the rich, whom the media payed attention to, and the poor who's fates tended to be summed up in one or two sentences on the local news. It wasn't really that far from what he already knew about how people work, those who hold the power decide the fates of those who don't, after that's exactly how he operated back in the Land of Fire.

With confidence the monkey man pushes the gate open and strides inside. The garden is unkempt, and rather ruined, as is the broken swing set half leaning on the concrete fence surrounding it. Nevertheless a group of children comes running up to the gate as soon as they spot the blond. They are waving excitedly, tripping over one another in their rush to get to him.

Madara co*cks his head with interest, watching the blond greet the throng. One of the kids takes his bag, while two others pull him towards the leaning swing. They are so short Ojiro has to bend over, as he is half dragged towards whatever malady is plaguing the pint sized imps. One, a girl with bluish hair and tiny horns waves her hand broadly explaining something. The whole scene is... endearing. Madara raises an eyebrow, as he watches Mashirao shrug out of his uniform jacket and pull at the crooked supports, straightening them back into place. Seems like the little fellow is quite strong even when he is not royally pissed off.

"Is he doing community service?", Madara wonders under his breath, and leans back on a rooftop exit to observe further. As soon as the swing is fixed another kid, an orange haired boy, pull Mashirao towards a small hole filled with sand, and shows of a small sand castle. The hero keenly watches the blond, as he is tugged this way and that, giving each child at least a couple of minutes of his time, just like he never declined to spend time with Izuna. A small raven haired boy charges up to Mashirao and for just the briefest moment Madara thinks he had seen Izuna. A sudden pressure gathers in the hero's chest, his armor suddenly feeling too constricting.

"What was that?", he mutters watching the raven happily ride on Ojiro's shoulders. He hadn't thought about his childhood in a long time. After all, it was a time much different from the one kids experience here. Filled with war, death, and poverty his only relief were his friendship with Hashirama and the short peaceful moments he spent with Izuna, both of which he managed to royally screw up in the end. How could he not favor peace? How could have he been so blind? Madara clenches his teeth watching Mashirao blow a raspberry on the boy's cheek, before going inside.

Chewing on his lip he looks down at his feet. How can he help them? The kids were dressed in old hand me downs, probably gathered from all around. He looks up to find Ojiro retreating inside, the little raven returning to play with the orange haired boy. The building is in an abysmal state, the windows old and flaking, some even taped together. Is that really the sort of a place a society filled with heroes should let kids grow up? His thoughts are disturbed by Mashirao's sudden reemergence. He is wearing washed out khaki shorts, and a sleeveless shirt which is just a size too small.

And suddenly it all clicks.

"He lives here", Madara gasps, his eyes going wide. This phenomenal, golden hearted boy, who burns bright with the will of fire, has lost his parents too.

Chapter 17: Question and Hope

Chapter Text

"This is ridiculous", Madara breathes, watching the scene five floors below unfold. Mashirao is engaging a small raven in a tickle fight, when the orange head bounds over attempting to aid his friend only to fall prey to the blond's strong tail. Gleeful laughter rings in the bustling neighborhood, punching a whole in the putrid atmosphere of domestic fights, crying children and loud music. It's a breath of fresh air giving relief to the stench of piss and blood coating the back alleys, and surprisingly Madara feels as though a grain of sand is stuck in his eye.

"No. That. That is not right", he strains, blinking furiously. Madara is certain he knows the injustice humans are capable of by heart, had he not succumbed to it himself after all? And yet in this world they seem to have succeeded in pushing the limit of what is wrong even further. He rubs tiredly at his forehead, watching the battle shift, with more boys coming to aid their little brothers in the fight against king of tickles. They fall on Mashirao from all sides, like a flock of angry crows they drag the monkey to the ground, turning the tables on him in an instant. Something warm slides down Madara's cheek. They are so happy with so little. A lump forms in his throat. It's a different kind of pain, seeing others as subjects to suffering you used to create.

"This is so f*cked up", Madara mutters, his voice wobbly, as he wipes angrily at his face, trying to get the slow stream of tears under control "Focus you idiot", he snaps at himself. He closes his eyes, and steadies his breath, trying his best to shut out the deep, hearty laughter sounding down below. When he opens them his mind is steadier, capable of assessing the situation calmly, like he always did in battle. First he takes stalk of the building, dilapidated, as is all the equipment, either in bad need of repair or showing signs of vandalism. The clothes the kids are wearing are clean, but old, in some cases nearly tattered, almost always a size or two too large. For Madara, who's 'quirk' gave him a paved road to fortune such poverty is unimaginable. Aren't there institutions donating to orphanages? The only conclusion is that something apart from the system is mucking this up. Besides, there is another thing screaming, lighting all the red lights in his head, his own instinct. Madara Uchiha was a villain, he changed, but this is what makes him the best investigator around, deep down, in the corner of his soul he is and will forever be a creature of evil. Deep down he is the most frightening being walking this planet, an invincible mortal, who is sent to scare the people who are said to have no fear. And that part screams of terror that could be brought to the peaceful household in this miserable part of town.

With a sigh Madara puts on his glasses and pull out his phone. The wheezing laughter continues below, and quickly shifts into loud pleas for mercy. Madara peeks over the top of his spectacles, and smiles noting that Mashirao is evidently faking his loss, acting like a true film star. His gaze shifts back to the phone, as he pulls up any relevant files, the police database, the local district's funding spreadsheet. He likes Japan, with everything done so neatly and by the book, half of his work can be done without ever leaving the office or in this case getting up. All he has to do is read the files.

The police database holds nothing interesting. There is an unusual number of calls up to two years ago, most resulting only in a statement, since the villains already got away, and the heroes didn't intervene, as expected. Most of the police force doesn't engage, leaving heroes to hog the glory and do the heavy lifting. And since most heroes don't wear all that much armor and don't use guns it isn't anything surprising that they don't usually live past their thirtieth birthday. What is interesting however is that these phone calls practically stop around twenty eighth of May two years back. Madara takes note of that for future reference.

The orphanage documents hold no clues either. It houses mostly quirkless kids, which isn't a surprise. Legally speaking everything seems all right, and that can only mean something is lingering beneath the surface, just as he suspected. Madara chews on his bottom lip, as he looks up to see Mashirao lay on the ground, with the kids piled on top of him, apparently worn out from the play fight, one seems to have fallen asleep on his older brother.

Investigating an issue which yields no direct results can be done in a number of ways. Years of experience taught Madara Uchiha one thing about investigative work though, patience pays. In the light of this wisdom, he starts concocting a plan. But for some reason he doesn't want to play a game with little Mashirao, because it wouldn't be fair, not to the boy at least. He pulls up Mashirao's adoption file, not one attempt, ever. That's cruel. He scrolls down some more, he appeared in the system nearly fifteen years ago?! Madara clenches his teeth realizing that the boy never even had a real family. He glances over the adoption cards of the other children. This orphanage is like a black hole, overpopulated, underfunded, a place where you wind up once nobody wants you.

"f*ck this!", he yells infuriated, and gets up to start pacing the roof. He had seen kids grow up amidst war and without fail they turned up dead. Kids here, they would just end up being villains, burned into a coma by Endeavor or some other wannabe, who didn't have enough brain to see past the child's actions. And yet here in this heart of hopeless bog lies a tiny peaceful oasis. Mashirao Ojiro has come from here, clawed his way past everything an orphan faces, to become someone who protects those he cares with indomitable will. Cursing quietly he looks below, only to see two men in the garden, the kids are disappearing into the house, running frantically, and suddenly his blood boils. He watches Mashirao raise his guard, and the man draw knives. The boy's feet are spread wide, one hand held close the other far in front, a stance he hasn't seen anywhere.

"These fools dare!", Madara yells storming towards the edge of the rooftop, and watching intently. He has seen Mashirao fight, but he stops short of the edge when the air seems to still. Something akin to freezing anger rolls off the teen. He has seen this before only a couple of times, a willpower so sheer in its ferocity, that the man becomes an unstoppable beast. Madara freezes in his tracks, unable to tear his gaze away from the scene playing out, from the easy dodges changing into powerful kicks and deadly locks. Mashirao Ojiro isn't fighting, he is dancing, swiftly moving from a lock to a throw. The boy places a kick so powerful the villain, taller by a head, bends in half, before falling to his knees. The enticing dance of power ends as Mashirao's knee collides with the villains nose and his tail throws the other man out the gate and into the street. Madara can sense the invisible pressure changing around the boy as he swipes his tail one last time hitting the ground with a loud thud and glaring at the running man. The pressure slowly decompresses, and the roaring blaze in the boys center seeps back into just a spark.

"You are something else Mashirao Ojiro, aren't you", he whispers to the wind, watching the teen drag the man out the gate and locking it, "You are quite something", he repeats before retreating to think about what he just witnessed and teach Hitoshi another lesson on genjutsu.

***

Last night Madara had trouble sleeping. He kept going over everything he witnessed in his lifetime, and everything he knew told him that chakra didn't behave the way he saw it behave yesterday. On top of that he needed to figure out how to deal with the boy, seeing what he did yesterday he was certain he wanted Mashirao Ojiro wearing the Konohagakure emblem way before the sports festival. There was just one other question that kept bugging him, that he didn't quite believe he was asking himself.

"You are up to something Dad", his perceptive son chirps from his side, as he walks with him and Bakugou to UA. It's a nice sunny day, with a cool breeze blowing. Izuku isn't wrong per say, he is up to something, "Daaaad", Izuku whines in warning, making him chuckle.

"I might be", Madara answers with a small smile, "Don't invite anyone over today. But do ask Shinsou to drop in, the sports festival is approaching and he has hardly got the basics down", he instructs, watching his son nod. They walk in near silence for a few minutes, with only the sound of intense grinding of molars, courtesy of Katsuki. Finally the blond snaps, having burned all of his short fuse.

"Izuku is going out today, so he ain't gonna be home old man", he barks, drawing Madara's attention. Izuku's is staring at his childhood friend transfixed, and Madara can't stop the curling of the corners of his lips. Has little Katsuki finally grown a pair and decided to ask his son out?

"We are going to get some ramen!", Katsuki yells, much to the astonishment of the shorter Uchiha. In Madara's opinion this is possibly the most adorable Katsuki has gotten since he turned seven. With a faint blush coating his cheeks and a ferocious scarlet dusting his ears the boy seems less violence prone. Using the short moment of mutual surprise, he slips his phone out of his pocket and snaps a quick picture, for blackmail purposes of course. Besides Mitsuki will be overjoyed to see 'her stupid-ass son make some f*cking progress'.

"Are we Kacchan?", Izuku asks, seeming to finally shake out of his surprise.

"Yes we are dumbass!", the blond yells, but there is edge to the insult, making Madara snicker.

A few minutes later they are standing in front of UA gates. The boys go on their merry way, while Madara waits for little Mashirao Ojiro, or rather 'Tailman'. He did ask around a few of his less legal contacts about the orphanage. Turns out the 'incident' he witnessed wasn't isolated. Of course they didn't give the defender of the orphanage a name, but short, blond, muscled and with a pension for using an additional appendage, was more than enough to figure out who the mystery man is. So here he is, with a smug smile, waiting for the teen in question to show his infatuated blond head. Besides that there is still the question which kept bothering him, but it will have to wait until he gets Mashirao on board. Not a minute later the teen rounds the corner, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding onto a backpack which has probably seen another decade or three.

"Excuse me, are you Mashirao Ojiro?", Madara queries with a polite smile. The blond stops in his tracks, turning to him with a surprised expression. One hand is gripping an old bag pack, and despite his relaxed stance Madara can sense that the teen is not defenseless. With the boy closer he can see numerous details which betray him. There is just the slightest stiffness in his shoulders, either from training or an old bed, probably both. The hand clutching the strap of the backpack is marked with a pattern of scars crisscrossing his knuckles like small thunderbolts, cutting across the cloudy discolorations of old bruises. For a boy his age he is surprisingly broad shouldered, with sharp features and carefully combed hair. He wears the school uniform, and a pair of silver sneakers which are exceptionally worn down, with visible tears and grazes, despite being spotlessly clean.

"Umm...yes, and who are you Sir?", the blond asks quickly. The polite formula feels refreshing, especially after knowing Bakugou Katsuki and his mother.

"Madara Uchiha, hero Hokage", Madara answers with a polite smile, "I am Izuku's dad and I've seen some of your impressive craft at USJ", he adds hoping to soften Ojiro up. Something about the boy reminds him of Hashirama, perhaps it's the ferocity with which he protects his loved ones or the proud, dignified attitude the Shinobi God displayed sometimes, through rarely and far in between.

"Pleasure to meet you Uchiha-san. Thank you for helping my classmates out at USJ", Mashirao says slightly inclining his head. What a polite boy, such a delightful change from his cunning son and snarky student.

"I was actually wondering. Who taught you to fight? Your proficiency with martial arts was noticeable", Madara praises. He feels like he is laying it on thick, especially after Mashirao's chicks pink up and the boy releases the strap of his backpack to scratch at one of them.

"Oh, I just frequented the local dojo a bit", the lie is smooth, but even without his Sharingan Madara can tell it's nowhere near the truth. He wonders, self-taught, learned through mimicry and observation? It makes the young man standing in front of him even more impressive.

"Sounds like your sensei was very skilled. Would you mind dropping in for dinner today, maybe I could give you a few pointers before the tournament", he offers lightly.

"I am not sure I can. I should be back home, I've got a lot of chores to do", the blond lies again. It's well practiced, he must have said it a thousand times over already.

"That is unfortunate", Madara says solemnly, watching Mashirao nod with a downcast expression, "But tell you what. Maybe I could call your parents and explain the situation. I am sure they could make an exception", he says in a friendly tone, waving his hand in the air lightly. Of course Mashirao stiffens, he almost flinches. He didn't expect that much of a reaction though. For some reason he must be really desperate to keep his origin a secret.

"I am afraid that they won't make an exception even for hero training", Mashirao finally stumbles out. An interesting recovery. There is a slightly forced smile on his lips, and he glances of to the side, an obvious lie now, no loner practiced and methodical.

"Oh, I am sure I could persuade Hattori-san", he smiles dropping the name of the only registered caretaker. Mashirao flinches visibly, his whole body growing rigid, and his eyes quickly gluing themselves to the silver sneakers.

"You know", he says weakly. The grip on the strap of the aged backpack is so strong the knuckles turn white, highlighting the biggest scars with a pink hue.

"I do", Madara affirms, and hears the polyester creak, as it is squeezed even harder, "But don't worry, nobody else does. I just want to help", he amends quickly, placing a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder. Mashirao winces under the touch, but stays rooted. It seems that the topic is quite difficult for the both of them. Finally a pair of black eyes meets his own. Under the hard resolve he can see a quiet plea.

"That's very generous Uchiha-san, but I can't leave the orphanage tonight and I really don't want to be a bother", the words are polite, but strained.

"You wouldn't be", Madara reassures quickly, "And if you are worried about what happened yesterday, I will have someone guarding the orphanage. I know this is abrupt, but please consider it, for yourself especially", Madara says, squeezing the boy's shoulder gently. A strange sort of affection worms its way into his chest, "And if you do, know that I make a mean steak. Find Shinsou in general studies, tall, salty, purple hair, he might hang around my son", Madara adds quickly before the boy can say anything. He watches Mashirao ponder the invitation, before looking him dead in the eye with the same kind of ferocious will he had displayed yesterday.

"If something happens to them", the boy grits out.

"Nothing will. I promise", Madara cuts him off, only to receive a short nod as a reply.

They part ways without saying another word, but Madara is positive he is going to be seeing the blond tonight for dinner. A small smile spreads on his face, as he fishes out a cellphone and dials one of his favorite customer's number.

"Yo, yo, yo, Uchi-ha! Ma man!", Present Mic booms into the receiver, and Madara immediately regrets holding the phone so close to his ear.

"Hello old friend", truth be told that outside of work he has gotten quite used to having a small circle of acquaintances, and working for UA made most of them teachers. This was useful in a multitude of ways, including being a source of constant entertainment, "I need you to pay back the favor you owed. There is an orphanage which could use a hero's visit this evening. It's in a shadier part of town, and the kids could really use some of your colorful personality", he explains patiently only to be cut of by a loud cheer.

"Say no more! Present Mic is on the job! Just text me da address! Catch ya later Ma-da-ra got your son's class to press!", the hero answers, making Madara grin. With that out of the way he can devote his attention to more interesting pursuits.

***

As it usually is the evenings end much more differently than everyone expected.

For starters when Aizawa Shota enters his apartment, he is greeted by an unexpected sound of a volleyball match. That wouldn't be anything special, knowing his husband of two years just leaves the TV running for the noise. However when a patter of two pairs of tiny feet reaches his ears only for his legs to be gripped by two tiny boys his bewilderment reaches a new level. He looks down at a small boy with a tiny frown, jet black hair and the most mesmerizing blue eyes he had ever seen, wearing a tshirt adorned with volleyballs. His other leg is clutched by a shorter boy, with orange unruly hair and the biggest smile he had ever seen, apart maybe from All Might and Izuku Uchiha.

"Hizashi", he chokes out, his eyes shifting from one boy to the other and back. Had he gotten the wrong apartment? But his keys fit?!

"Welcome home", a rough hand tugs his chin up and a pair of lips presses to his own, "Meet Shouyo and Tobio", Hizashi beams, with a gleeful note in his voice, "Boys meet Papa, Shouta Aizawa"

*

Bakougo Katsuki was always good with plans, setting them up, ordering and execution were his forte. So how on earth he wound up with Half-n-half, Hair-for-Brains, Pikachu, Roundface and Square-guy sitting in his room playing Mario Kart was beyond him. He had a plan god damn it! Woo, confess, smooch!

"Lighten up man!", sh*t-for-brains chimes, as they watch Izuku pummel them in Mario Kart. How the f*cker is dodging shells like that? He must be cheating with those f*cking eyes of his.

"Shut up you piece of f*ck", Katsuki barks back, aiming the blue shell straight at Kirishima's avatar. f*ck him, f*ck them all in particular!

"Kacchan don't be mean", Izuku admonishes in return, dodging with ease, a smug smile plastered to his adorable, squishy face.

"Go sh*t yourself", Bakugou answers on instinct, before he can think who exactly it is he is cursing.

"I know you adore me anyway", his crush grins back, making him fall of the road.

The upside, or maybe the downside was that ultimately Izuku stayed overnight, and he got to cuddle his crush a little bit. He could honestly say it was the best sleep he had in months.

*

Laying in bed Ojiro can't help but think back about today. At first he was reluctant to take the invitation, after all, wouldn't it be stupid to hope for too much. And yet, when he arrived with Shinsou at Uchiha-san's spacious house he couldn't help but be astonished. They spent a couple of hours sparring. Of course he couldn't match Madara-san when the hero went all out, yet he still managed to get a few hits in. On top of that he got an offer of a paid internship as soon as he gets the provisional license. It was almost like a dream come true. And for the first time in a long while he didn't have to rush home and keep one eye on the gate, he could just relax. After Hitoshi went back home, they had a sating dinner, and even though Ojiro never had steak before he could tell the one Madara-san made was amazing. They had a bath, during which they talked. Somehow the man pulled Ojiro's life story out of him, his reasons behind training and wanting to become a hero. In turn Madara told him about how he found out about Ojiro's situation and encouraged him to confess to Hagakure. And now here he was, laying on a soft bed instead of a thin blanket on a creaking floor, having given his bed up to little Sugawara last winter. That night Mashirao fell asleep wishing that it could stay this way.

*

Meanwhile Madara Uchiha was listening to Aizawa's rant downstairs. Two hours later he was listening to the 'soulless' man coo over the two boys Present Mic seemed to have taken for a 'trial period' from the orphanage. Said cooing included a phrase, 'if they want them back they will have to pry them from my cold, dead hands'. Earlier that day he had also secured a new location for the orphanage, in a better part of town, with a huge playground for the kids. And yet after the day spent with the mysterious teen he was no closer to unraveling the mystery of Mashirao Ojiro. He was however certain of one thing, he wanted to keep that boy.

"Oh, you would love him Inko, heart of gold, muscles of steel, honorable and smart", he muses under his breath, imaging his late wife laugh to her heart's content. She always wanted Izuku to have siblings, five or six, a big family and a house filled with laughter. If Hashirama saw him now, he wouldn't let him live it down. Screw it, he is going to ask Mashirao tomorrow. He is also going to have to talk with Izuku, not coming back home like that... it's unsettling. After all, Bakugou's intentions seemed far less than platonic. Maybe this is the famous rebellious phase? Madara wonders, shuddering at the prospect.

Chapter 18: Painful pasts

Chapter Text

'The floor is too soft', it's the first thought that crosses Mashirao's mind when his consciousness returns. This and the fact that the room is warm, little Nishinoya isn't snoring like a chainsaw not two feet away, Suga isn't trying to cover him with his spare blanket, and none of the boys are trying to snuggle close. It slowly comes to the blond that he isn't in the orphanage all together as the events of the day past come back to him in a rush of pleasant memories. The bleary digits of the alarm clock set on the side of the bed read 6 AM, the usual time he gets up to catch a small workout before the day starts. After all, by seven he must be in the kitchen, helping make whatever the day's meager breakfast is. However the cushy bed is tempting, begging the boy to grab a few more minutes of shut eye. With a small smile Mashirao tries to fall back into the easy sleep, but no matter how tight he screws his eyes shut he isn't getting drowsy. With a deep sigh of regret Mashirao slips out from under the covers and stretches, listening to his tortured back popping, as his tail swishes lightly in the air. The over sized black shirt with the Uchiha emblem on its back clings to him with the night's sweat, the sensation of warmth surrounding him, and even coursing in the floor is completely foreign, leaving him slightly lightheaded. It's strange to feel this warm early in the morning.

"The old floor is going to kill me someday", he mutters rubbing at his eyes, before heading for the door. Yesterday he couldn't stop marveling that the guest room had so much space, and all of it for one person. A king sized bed, a wardrobe all to one person, it even had a desk! It was a little bit amazing, to know that it was still smaller than Uchiha-kun's room. Speaking of, why wasn't the little green head here yesterday? Why had Madara-san just up and offered him all this stuff, and promised to look after the orphanage personally? Reality looks too good to be true, but Mashirao can't bring himself to question it. Slowly he patters towards the bathroom, his tail hoisted over his shoulder. When he enters the room to his dismay he finds Madara-san shaving with a straight edge, humming a soft tune.

"Umm... sorry, I'll wait outside", Mashirao mumbles, seeing the man turn to him. It's strange seeing a beardless man shave, but dealing with Uchiha was a crash course on weird so far.

"No need Mashirao. Please help yourself", the man answers before he can back out, and points to the free sink. A number of items is strewn around it, most a carbon copy of what the man is using. There is even a smaller straight edge, as though it was made for someone younger. That probably explains where Izuku gets such a smooth shave. As always when confronted with the unknown, Mashirao has a number of question. First and foremost 'Why?'. However he decides to hold them in, as he washes his face and neck. The rush of water drowns out the soft scraping sounds of metal against skin. Mashirao watches his host shave, transfixed by the meticulous dance of the blade.

"I hope you slept well", Madara-san states, making him smile. He had the best sleep in weeks, sated, warm and comfortable.

"Extremely", Mashirao answers shutting off the faucet. There are two towels to his right, a white one and a green one.

"The white one is yours", Uchiha-san, answers before he can ask. Mashirao wipes his face quickly, marveling at the softness of the towel. Back in the orphanage they don't have enough cash for any sort of fabric softeners, still this is beyond fluffy!

"Not a very comfortable bed in the orphanage?", Uchiha-san asks, not taking his eyes off of the mirror. His expression is impassive, as though he was just making conversation about his hardships, leaving the boy feeling resigned. They have talked a little bit about how hard life at the orphanage is, and yet right now the man is taking it so lightly. Mashirao watches the relaxed face, his sadness quickly dipping into anger, as a belief forms in his mind. So it was all a ploy after all, just a publicity jump, and any day now he will see an article in the newspaper, and once again be the laughing stock at school. Mashirao's heart sinks. It was stupid to get his hopes up, he was being childish. And screw Madara Uchiha, Hokage dipsh*t, another fame hungry hero! Mashirao's jaws tighten painfully, as he clutches the towel harder. Screw him! Screw the other heroes! He isn't going to let anyone mock him.

"Not a very comfortable floor", he snarls, hanging the towel, and stomping out the bathroom before he can get an answer to that. The world is cruel all right, hadn't Madara Uchiha told him that just yesterday?

What Mashirao doesn't see is the way the hero's eyes widen, or the tiniest twitch of the man's fingers leaving a minuscule cut on his cheek.

***

Madara is in the kitchen, stirring the miso soup he planned on serving for breakfast. There is a strange tightness in his chest as he recalls the words the boy said.

"Not a very comfortable floor", he mutters, watching the dark soup swirl. How could he be so blind?

He runs a hand through his spiky hair, trying to figure out how exactly he missed the fact that Mashirao was sleeping on the floor and why he didn't react to it. That would explain why his guest was so awestruck when he saw the double bed, the broad smile in the bath and how quiet it was during dinner, when the boy ate like he was half starved. Madara shakes his head lightly at himself, he behaved just like any other hero would, and that makes him feel sick to the core. His thoughts are interrupted by Mashirao walking into the kitchen. He is wearing the school uniform, the ratty backpack slung over his back. There is fire in his eyes, and the bizarre thick aura the blond exudes fills the room.

"I'll be taking my leave. Thank you for an eye opening stay", Mashirao snaps, bowing slightly and turning on his heel before Madara can react. A second later he chases after the blond, now certain as to what had happened, and willing to do anything to explain. Luckily he manages to catch the boy at the door and slam it shut, cutting him off. Mashirao throws him a glare befitting Katsuki rather than the polite boy he had come to know yesterday.

"What's wrong?", he asks quickly, watching the blond like a hawk. There is a frown on his face, and the hand clenching the backpack is white with the force of its grip, his lips form a tight line. Madara knows what's wrong, but whatever happened in Mashirao's head must be let out, even if the boy ends up getting violent.

"You don't care, do you?!", Mashirao yells, astounding the hero. The boy is shaking with anger, his chakra spiking and vanishing in strange patterns, making the air thick with energy. Madara's shoulders drop, it's strange to feel wounded by words alone.

"You really believe I don't care?", Madara asks softly, surprising himself. In the past he would have called the boy an ungrateful bastard and kicked him out the door. Now he knows better, he can see a boy who lived through as much pain as he did as a child, a soul he can understand. It's heartbreaking to see in a world like this.

The blond in front of him stops shaking, and strains for a defiant look despite the tears filling his eyes. People are so hard to fix once they break, and Mashirao Ojiro is already full of cracks and nicks. The boy's tail swats angrily at the ground, sending a dull thud echoing through the hall, but Madara doesn't flinch.

"Mashirao I care. I want to help", he repeats what he told the boy yesterday, watching him seethe, as the tail curls to strike. He isn't going to block that. The boy is so angry he is barely holding it together, a miracle he hadn't snapped yet. The outburst was bound to happen at some point, after all he went through one himself, as all the terrors of his past life piled up into a horrifying monster nipping at his heart. The same is true for the teen standing in front of him, it's just impossible to see the beast, before it takes a bite out of you.

"Like hell you do! All you heroes care about is fame! That's why you are helping! You don't give a damn!", Mashirao roars his tail hitting the wall so hard the few family photos come clattering to the ground. The boy drops his backpack and clenches his fists, readying to throw the first punch.

It's the same. It's always the same, the same curse of hatred devouring your soul once you can't smile comfortingly any more and you rot to the core. The same story, here and there, when the boy must become a man before he is due. He should say something, comfort Mashirao, but he knows that whatever he would utter won't help. So instead Madara wraps the boy in a strong hug. A strained sound escapes Mashirao's throat, as he is pressed against the dark red bathrobe, giving Madara just enough time to say something reassuring. However there is nothing comforting about fighting every day of your life, worrying and doing your best to survive in a world torn by war even if that war rages on the street in an otherwise peaceful world.

"I killed the first man, by the time I was twelve", Madara says quietly. So far only Inko knew this part of his villainous past. The boy in his arms stills for a moment, "Where I lived as a child, there was a war, a brutal one. I wanted to protect my family, and in doing so I was forced to kill others", images of violence fly before Madara's eyes, graying and discolored, blurred reminders of the destruction he wrought onto others. He can feel Mashirao tense against him, "I lived to fight, I enjoyed it, loved it. And then I was given an out", Madara says, his voice strained, as he remembers the outstretched, tanned hand of his first friend, as his back touched the ground for the first time ever. "But I didn't take it", he adds, feeling something wet slip out of his eye and a phantom pain in his back, where the blade pierced his skin long, long ago. "Please, let me help you", the sentence comes out as a croak, as he tightens the hug around the shocked boy. They stand like that for a few minutes, in a house filled with silence. Slowly the boy starts shaking. A weak sob escapes Mashirao, before the hug is returned. Madara feels a pair of strong hands bunch up the material of his bathrobe, as the boy cries quietly. Mashirao doesn't utter a sound, as though he didn't want anyone to know. The energy, and the bizarre spike of chakra Madara noticed earlier fizzles away into nothing once again.

"Do not tell my son about what I just told you. But bear in mind that I understand your pain, and will do everything in my power to give you peace", Madara says, feeling the boy's shoulders shake, and feeling a wet stain form on his shoulder. He strokes the blond head gingerly, swallowing the lump in his own throat and makes a decision: Mashirao Ojiro will stay here.

***

The breakfast starts as a quiet matter. They now share a secret and quickly form an unspoken pact never to talk about what transpired in Madara Uchiha's mud room. Mashirao smiles again, even if barely, with just the corners of his lips, but it's a smile all the same, and it lifts the man's spirits. He can and will ask the question. They are half way through the meal, Mashirao back to his calm and collected self, when Madara finally deems the situation ripe and himself ready.

With a strange finality he folds his chopsticks and places them on the bowl of half finished rice, his determination flaring up, like a blaze in his chest.

"I was wondering if you would like to stay?", he says slowly, making sure to articulate every word, not leaving any room for misunderstandings.

Mashirao gives him a dumbfounded look. No, that's not the right way to put it, he looks more like a monkey caught in the headlights. "I could stay one more day perhaps", he answers after a long pause, and Madara's eyes grow comically wide. What the hell sort of an answer was he just given?

They blink at one another stupidly for a few moments, before he finally pieces the boy's reasoning together. "I think you got the wrong idea Mashirao Ojiro", he says slowly, and Mashirao flinches, his eyes traveling down to stare at his crossed legs. He should have figured that with no history of adoption, after fifteen the boy lost all hope.

"Would you like to become a part of my family?", he asks bluntly, watching the boy's shoulders hunch, and his chin quiver. He is going to save this boy, from himself and from this world.

"I'd very much like that Madara-san but...", Mashirao whispers tersely.

"If this is about the orphanage, I am well aware of the reasons you have to refuse, and of the Tailman", he cuts the boy off, before he can retreat back into his shell. Mashirao flinches at the mention of the name under which he is known on the streets of the ratty neighborhood, "The orphanage will be relocated within a week, and sponsors will be brought in. There will be no more need for you to endanger yourself", he says firmly, and Mashirao finally looks up. Disbelief is painted all over the boy's face, "I will ask again, will you become a part of my family?", the sentence sounds ridiculous, as though someone plucked it straight from one of these Shounen novels which Izuku used to be so fond of, and yet it fits perfectly.

To his surprise Mashirao dives in for a hug. He presses his face into the soft scarlet material of Madara Uchiha's bathrobe, as he blabbers barely understandable words of gratitude. Madara hugs the boy tightly, feeling that somewhere far away Hashirama is probably laughing his sandals off.

***

It's a nice morning, at least that's what Izuku concludes, when he wakes up wrapped in a pair of muscular arms, courtesy of his still fast asleep childhood friend, Bakugou Katsuki. It's not like it's even that much of a novelty to wake up to, Kacchan was always a closet hugger. As such Izuku has had a lot of practice in slipping out of the death grip. He gets dressed quickly, before tiptoeing out of the room.

Lucky for him aunt Mitsuki is already in the kitchen throwing f*cks around like he does shuriken or Bakugou does explosions. It's quite a wonder he himself never picked up any of her language, it's no wonder Katsuki did. Every time he visits he is growing more confident in the thought that Kacchan's first word wasn't fork but f*ck.

"Izuku my little wonder. How did you sleep? I hope my stupid ass son didn't kick you", the blond woman smiles at him. Kacchan has her hair, blood red eyes, and definitely her pension for swearing.

"No, Kacchan is always great to sleep with", he answers with a smile of his own. It's actually true, Katsuki doesn't kick, drool, and always puts the blanket back on him when he kicks it off during the night. Unfortunately his closest friend doesn't even wake up by the time he leaves the Bakugou household to walk home. In his defense Kacchan was always a heavy sleeper, and undoubtedly he will gripe when they arrive at school and deny any cuddling took place.

Within a few minutes Izuku makes it through the front door, yelling a welcome. His father calls him into the dining room, where the breakfast is most likely laid out. Surprisingly his father is sitting next to Mashirao and they are chatting away animatedly. The blond's eyes are slightly puffy as though he has stopped crying not long ago, and there is a soft smile on his father's face, the rare kind he has when he isn't thinking about actually smiling. Mashirao is wearing one of their clan's shirts, probably his dad's because there is no way he would fit in any of Izuku's without stretching them beyond repair. He clears his throat pointedly, drawing their looks.

"High time you got back. How was your stay at Bakugou's?", dad queries, with a sly smirk on his face. Is he hinting at something?

"The usual. Katsuki fell asleep and went full koala on me", Izuku answers lightly, sitting down, and hears Mashirao splutter, "I mean nothing happened!", he amends waving his hands frantically, before the blond gets any ideas. They are just friends after all.

"I am sure nothing did. Otherwise I wouldn't hear the end of it from Mitsuki", Madara notes under his breath, "But here is the thing, I remember you used to badger me about having a brother. Be it as it may I never came around to adopting someone", his father starts spinning the tale, Izuku makes himself comfortable and pulls a bowl of rice towards himself, it's probably going to be a long one. He did badger his father about that, when he was six! "As of late I have reconsidered that stance. Meet your new brother, Mashirao"

A deafening silence falls in the room as Izuku blinks dumbfounded looking between his blond classmate and his father, processing the words three times over. Are they in on a practical joke? No, he would be able to tell... "Wait a second, you are telling me Mashirao will be my brother?", he queries just to make sure. His father nods quickly, a proud smile on his face, and his friend in turn seems to be in search of the closest hole to hide in. That's all fine and dandy but hang on!, "But why? Doesn't Mashirao have a family of his own? Did something happen to them?", he asks frantically, after all why else would his friend be here?!

"I think it's best if he answers these questions", his dad says, and puts a comforting hand on the monkey man's shoulder. Mashirao gives his old man a weak smile. Meanwhile Izuku's mind is flooded by a thousand increasingly evil scenarios.

There are few moments of silence, as Mashirao seems to gather his thoughts. First he tells Izuku about Madara's offer. And only when Izuku says that he would be overjoyed to have Mashirao here does he launch into a long, incredibly sad story. Mashirao tells them of how his first memory involves the orphanage, of what it is like to be 'the orphan' in elementary and middle school. He tells them what it is like to not know where you are from or who you are, only having the anchor of a run down building and old care taker to keep you rooted. He tells them how he lost two friends after they were adopted and never even came back to say they are all right. His tale devolves into darkness, as Mashirao reminisces over the time he helped the kids stay quiet in the cellar, while villains robbed the already poor orphanage, and no hero came to their rescue. He tells them how he snapped one day, only to get beat up within an inch of his life, He shows them scars and burns always neatly hidden during school hours, deep slashes on his arms, from when he was fourteen and stood up to a group of thugs. He tells Izuku how he learned to fight, about watching the lessons at the dojo from afar, and practicing, constantly, no matter whether it rained or snowed, no matter if he was hungry or sick. Awestruck Izuku realizes that Mashirao takes pride in putting his body and mind through hell and surviving only to continue fighting. The blond tells them about the loneliness of the orphanage, and of the small band of kids he calls the crows. He recounts the happy moments too, his fifth birthday, the only time he had an actual birthday cake, even if it was on the stale side. He tells them about playing with kids, and watching them grow, sometimes leave, other times get transferred. Finally he tells Izuku about Madara's offer once again, saying that this morning marks the best day of his life. And Izuku can't help but start crying. It's hard to believe he spent so much time in one classroom with the guy and had not even the faintest clue. How did his father know? It's amazing, a miracle in its own way, and he realizes that he has never seen Mashirao smile so brightly.

'True heroes often work from the shadow', Aizawa-sensei once said that. The sentence takes strange meaning, and Izuku realizes that being a hero is often times more than just fighting the bad guys. So why is almost everyone content with doing only that? Mashirao pats him on the back, before getting up.

"We are late little brother", the blond teases, before dashing upstairs. Leaving Izuku staring at his grinning dad, it is a truly terrifying sight.

***

Running down the corridor at breakneck speed Izuku has a feeling that he is in for a bizarre day. It started of strangely enough with him getting a 'bigger brother'. For some reason Mashirao wouldn't let go of the fact that Izuku is full three centimeters shorter. For understandable reasons the blond is now wearing an Uchiha-crest tie pin. Izuku smirks knowing what sort of surprises probably await his new brother throughout the day.

The two of them storm into the classroom squeezing through the doors, and gracelessly tumbling over one another to the floor in their haste. From the floor Izuku bares witness to a sight as improbable as only a work of imagination could deliver. Aizawa Shota aka Heartless Bastard, is holding a small boy in his arms, while the rest of the class stares in equal parts of shock and trepidation at their teacher. Mashirao's jaw goes slack. The boy giggles excitedly as he is shifted from hand to hand, before turning his head to see the two boys sprawled on the floor. He has got the most shocking orange hair and eyes Izuku has ever seen and a smile to rival his own. Somehow Aizawa doesn't seem annoyed with how the kid squirms in his arms.

"Mashi-oonichan!", the boy calls excitedly. Could this be one of the little crows Mashirao told him about? Izuku quickly looks to the side, Mashirao is grinning at the boy, as though he had just met a long lost friend.

A muffled swear sounds in the class, as though someone tried to curse over a roll of material stuffed in their mouth.

"Hi Shouchan", Mashirao waves amicably, somehow unaffected by a downright villainous glare directed his way by their homeroom teacher. The man looks lazily at the attendance sheet, before marking it twice. If Izuku used his Sharingan he could have spotted the minuscule twitch of surprise.

"Take your place Uchihas", he barks, and they scramble back to their feet. This is going to be a long day.

Chapter 19: The last preparations

Chapter Text

With the festival drawing close full day training sessions became a norm for 1-A. Aizawa seemed to have taken a most Butlerian attitude sparing no rod, lest he spoil his students. Most of them are all right, sure Bakugou is screaming profanities, or at least trying to, Kaminari and Kirishima are blockheads, the Uchihas suddenly became a handful the littler one demoralizing the little one. Aizawa Shota could say easily, he can survive anything, however when his good for nothing, overenthusiastic, c*nt of a brother started pestering him about Hitoshi's new teacher he became quite concerned. Yet these difficulties proved minuscule in comparison to an ant sized problem which suddenly invaded his life in a set of two.

Said little trouble had fallen on him like thunder, a surprise brought home by his one and only true love, Hizashi Yamada, an obnoxiously loud man, who wouldn't keep his trap shut even if their lives depended on it. They were two wonderful pint sized boys, one with fire orange hair and a blinding smile, the other a perpetual, black haired grump. Perhaps surprisingly each of the little crows, because that's how they called themselves, elected a separate 'dad', to take care of. This in turn led to the headache of having to find a nursery for the little tykes, only to forgo the idea barely two days later. The 'joint parent committee', as the staff of UA called themselves, decided that the boys are too adorable to be stuck in some nursery, essentially forcing Hisashi and him to bring them around.

That's how Aizawa ended up teaching with a tiny redhead, sitting on his desk, drawing, painting or bouncing a tiny volleyball off of the wall, while he explained the intricacies of hand to hand combat to a class consisting of nineteen free to speak teenagers and one gagged Bakugou Katsuki, who tried screaming profanities none the less.

And yet despite all the little difficulties of parenthood Aizawa could truthfully say that he had never been so happy. Said happiness once came to light during what Yamada dubbed a parent-teacher conference, or rather a night out with Uchiha Madara and Toshinori Yagi. These usually ended with the two of the louder ones attention whoring on the dance floor, while Madara and he could brood over strong drinks. It was then that for the first time since alcohol wet his lips that Shouta Aizawa raved to anyone willing to listen about his two wonderful sons and a nephew who is going to be a hero thanks to Madara Uchiha's help!

******

For Hitoshi Shinsou, much to a certain red armored hero's anguish the time was too filled with training to blog. He, of course, could not know about the pain he caused, for he never shared his pass time with the hero. The insomniac's days dragged out, apart from the very few important items on his schedule: training, seeing his very first crush, and coincidentally his sensei's and future employer's son. Things seemed rather simple, he just had to work extra hard to get Izuku's attention. The boy already had a pet name for him, 'Hicchan'. The word sent a flurry of butterflies procreating in his stomach every time he heard it falling from these soft looking lips.

However fate seemed to take particular pleasure in surprising him. Said twist of events started just a week before the day of the showdown, with an offer of a training camp with his teacher. Now at first he was skeptical, especially about leaving the battlefield for Uchiha's little heart and bright smile. He had the advantage, currently, but that could be easily changed by the shark and living dynamite stick. He didn't really think of the round faced girl as a true contender, neither was the mismatched guy. And yet something else bugged him too. It took on the form of a bright smiling guy, with a thick tail, and a funny habit of scratching his cheek. They first met at school, the boy asking him about Madara Uchiha. The next thing he knows Mashirao bears the Uchiha name, and he sees him almost every break, hanging around Izuku or minding his business not far away. That left Hitoshi in a difficult position, especially when his eyes started gravitating to the tailed teen. Is it possible to like like two guys at the same time? He wondered, pouting over lunch, as he side eyed the Uchiha brothers holding a giant water balloon just above Midnight's head, and idea brought on by the shorter one of them, or 'littler', as Mashirao never failed to point out with an adorable smile.

The next day, as he was trudging, at the crack of dawn, towards the Uchiha residence when his heart stopped. Packing his stuff into the trunk of the car was Mashirao. He was smiling brightly at Madara-san, a traitorous voice in Shinsou's mind said 'I want that smile to myself'. Nevertheless he shook his head bravely and ventured forward scratching the back of his head, as he raked his brain for conversation starters. After all there was a four hour ride ahead of them.

*

Shinsou was certain he is about to perish, a very violent death in a car wreck impaled on a tree growing by the road, or when they are finally going to slam into another car, or fall of a cliff. He wasn't sure about how, he didn't have to be. All he knew, was that he clung onto the seatbelt so tightly that his hands hurt. For the love of all things holy and unholy he couldn't understand why and how Uchiha-san could hum a Katy Perry song, while overtaking two cars from the f*cking right and then muttering something about weakness disgusting him! Hitoshi let out a low squeak, embarrassed as his heart did overtime.

'We are going to die', he managed to type out on the phone sending a quick message to Izuku, hoping that the little ray of sunshine would encourage him a bit. However when no reply came he turned his head to find Mashirao leaning on the the window asleep and snoring softly. The situation seemed surreal, until the car swerved wildly to the left, as Uchiha senior drifted with an overjoyed, slightly maniacal laugh, the rear of the car hanging over the edge of the cliff. Mashirao's limp body, gracefully tumbled, the boy's head resting lightly on his shoulder, turning the situation abstract. Shinsou was too petrified to notice the coincidence until they practically found the lone, half toppled inn which was their destination.

*

If he had known that his training would consist mostly of sitting on the ground he would have packed thicker pants. It was the fourth day now, barely two left until they would have to be getting back, and he felt stuck. The hero was too good with genjutsu, missing no detail, even when Hitoshi himself thought he reached incomprehensible levels of artistry.

Madara sighed tiredly, and rolled his shoulders, they were at it three hours now, and despite sitting still Shinsou was soaked and tired.

"That's the warm up", Madara finally declared, and Hitoshi's eyes bulged. This was warm up?! What the heck did this man plan for today?!, "Tsukuyomi. It is the most powerful technique a genjutsu user can have. However only those with the Sharingan can master it", the man's eyes turned crimson, three lazy droplets which the boy grew accustomed to seeing, swirling lazily, before stretching out and forming a pattern unlike nay pupil Shinsou had seen before. "Since we are pressed for time, we are going to cram. Tsukuyomi lets me recreate a world and trap you in it for up to ten days in my case. That time is compressed into a second in our world. So give or take, we are going to cram ten years worth of genjutsu into your underslept brain in a span of three days", Madara smiled slyly and Hitoshi gulped.

*

Sitting in the baths that evening he felt as though someone took a frying pan and hit him with it over the head repeatedly. He vaguely recalled something about Madara-san being gentle, Izuku once said it, utter bullsh*t. The man was nowhere to be found, however soon he was joined by a rather ragged looking Mashirao. Sure he didn't mean to stare, but the short conversations over breakfast, the immense friendly nature of the guy and that pearly smile did funny things to his heart and now he was fully aware of that. On top of that up till now Shinsou wasn't sure what type of guys he really liked, but seeing these abs chiseled like chocolate bars, thick forearms, wide chest and a back that could probably crack a walnut between the shoulder blades, he grew quite aware of what he looked for and Mashirao Ojiro fit every single one of his high expectations.

The boy slumped not far away, the towel folded neatly on his head and sighed loudly, the chest working in an enticing way. 'Get away dirty thoughts', he growled at his brain, the ever useless brat. Of course he would never admit it to anyone, but being gay, and in an onsen with 'that' was a true treat. The worst part, he wasn't one bit ashamed of his perverted thoughts and quite willing to act on them.

"Hey", Hitoshi said, eloquence of the brick, trying not to face palm. He could literally feel the tiny insomniac angel and demon sitting on his shoulders, the latter looking at him very delighted.

"Hey", Mashirao answers, still staring up at the evening sky, arms sprawled on the edge of the bath, wet and flexed in just the right way, sending a blush creeping up his already red face.

"What did you do today?", Hitoshi asks after a stretching silence, his normally unshakable confidence suddenly much more waning.

"Taijutsu", Mashirao sighs, sinking a little lower, "Sorry for being a poor conversationalist, just too tired", the monkey man mutters. There is something alluring about the tone, and Hitoshi can feel the ghost of a slap on the head, before the devil's pitchfork stabs him full on in the ass, the little version of him in a dashing black suit with cute red horns laughing maniacally as the words fall out of his lips.

"Would you like a back rub?", he doesn't stutter, it comes out evenly and confidently, the way he usually talks. The pint sized version of him in a white toga, wrings its hands, before vanishing into thin air, leaving his worst instincts in charge. He watches Mashirao crack open an eye, and direct a piercing near black iris at him.

"I think I am fine", the blond answers slowly, evidently suspicious.

Shinsou chuckles softly, the tiny devil on his arm giggling madly. "Hey, you simply look like you could do with one", he smirks, getting the blond's undivided attention. Mashirao stares at him, eyes narrowed, mouth pressed together. "Come on, it's just a back rub", he urges, despite the piercing gaze, "Nothing wrong with that is there?"

"Fine", Mashirao shrugs, and turns his back to him, the tail somewhere underwater.

Shinsou smirks, scooting closer. A moment later he putting his hands on these perfectly wide shoulders. He thinks he should feel guilty about his sort of a ploy, after all not even a few days ago he would have sold his soul to be in the same situation with Izuku. And yet, as soon as he digs his fingers into nearly rock hard fiber.

*

That night is troublesome. For some reason, Shinsou can't get rid of a certain blond, and the quiet groans of pleasure as his fingers dig into rock hard muscles, which invade his dreams and make sure his pajama pants are too damn tight.

*

The next day, despite feeling like he had just read two encyclopedias cover to cover, he tries inching closer. Mashirao seems to be half-asleep, completely relaxed in the tub. Gently he caresses the outstretched arm, when all hope he had is suddenly crushed.

"Shinsou-kun", the blond's tone carries a warning, and so he obediently moves back. Mashirao sits up, both hands hidden now beneath the water. His eyes are narrowed, suspicious, but he isn't glaring or looking displeased.

"Um sorry?", Shinsou utters, scratching the back of his head. That was stupid, maybe he should have been a little more careful. A faint pink creeps its way onto his cheeks, luckily he the hot water does a good job of hiding the flush on his already red face.

"What was that?", the blond asks, genuinely puzzled, now fully turned towards him. Shinsou feels more heat flood his cheeks, but if he is going to be honest he was just caught red handed, or at least slapped on the wrist. For a few seconds he frantically tries coming up with an answer.

"I like you Uchiha-kun", his mouth blurts out, before his brain can catch up, and suddenly feels quite small seeing how large the blond's eyes get. The tail suddenly comes out from underneath the water hiding the thick abs. Mashirao brings his knees to his chest, the end of the tail tucked just beneath his chin, making him look like a tiny adorable, blond ball.

"Oh no", Mashirao chokes out weakly, one hand already flying out to scratch at his cheek, as something in Shinsou's chest sags. "That's very nice, but I am not gay", the blond answers smiling apologetically, as though he was the one at fault. A weak smile sneaks its way onto Hitoshi's face. Such a shame... Besides what is he going to do now? To be honest he hasn't spared Izuku a single thought today, and something tells him he won't be thinking of the freckled sunny boy any longer, at least not in that way.

"Oh", Hitoshi says averting his gaze, to look at the dark water. He hears a splash of water, and it crosses his mind that maybe Mashirao had left. However not a second later a warm hand rests on his shoulder.

"Hey, relax. You couldn't have known", Mashirao says in a bright voice. Hitoshi can't stop himself, and looks up at the boy, now sitting so close that his feet are practically brushing against his thighs. The proximity makes his heart do a small flip, even if he is disappointed. What if...

"You sure you aren't even a little bit gay?", Hitoshi asks bringing his thumb and pointer close together just above the water. The blond laughs warmly, the hand on his shoulder squeezing in the slightest.

"Sorry I am not. Besides weren't you after my little brother last time I checked?", Mashirao asks, his eyes now holding the same mischievous flicker every member of the Uchiha clan bears. If he was a little bit braver and a ton more stupid maybe he would lean in, quickly and steal a kiss. Luckily he is far more sensible.

"Yeah, well. Things happened", Hitoshi shrugs, and Mashirao nods. "Can we pretend we didn't have this conversation?", he asks awkwardly after a moment of staring at the sharp edges of the blond's face. Something tells him this isn't going to go away any time soon, something about his crush is different, stronger, and it already bothers him.

"Sure. Just so you know I have someone I like, I just haven't come to confess yet", Mashirao smiles brightly, so much more brightly than before. Despite the fact that this smile isn't actually directed at him, Shinsou can't help but feel jealous of the girl.

******

All Might, or rather Toshinori Yagi had never known that strolling around the Hero City he would find himself chatting up Madara Uchiha, who asked him to check in on a certain small orphanage during his absence. Now that in turn led to a series of progressively more interesting encounters. Toshinori was carrying a small backpack filled with various All Might merchandise, when a volleyball flew over a neatly painted white stone fence just to hit him square in the face. Some would call this accident, amongst them Toshinori, however Uchiha Madara did not believe in accidents when he asked the favor.

"Shoot we lost the ball again!", a high pitched voice carried over the wall. The ball rolled away, towards a green painted gate, not far ahead. Quirking an eyebrow the hero followed the stray toy, picking it up as it stopped short of rolling onto the narrow street. It was much smaller than expected. He inspected it, brand new, and moment later hr heard the gate creak open.

"Mister, could we have our ball back please?", a tanned boy with cropped black hair queried. He wasn't very old, seven, eight at most, but had a mature sort of aura about him, stable, one he would want to see in some of the young heroes, especially Bakugou Katsuki.

"Yes, of course", he catches himself following the hazel gaze back to the volleyball in his palm. "I was actually coming to visit Hattori-san's orphanage, is this the place by any chance?", he queries before tossing the ball back. The boy quirks an eyebrow at him in surprise, but manages to restore his composure quickly.

"One and only. Please follow me", the kid says, turning on his heel, but peeking back to check if the guest is following him.

*

A few minutes later he is sitting on fresh grass with kids swarming around the unexpected guest, asking a million questions per minute. For some reason, despite barely keeping up with everyone he can't stop himself from following the 'sturdy-boy' as he dubbed the kid that he first met. For some reason the boy seems to perpetually hang out with another one with silver hair, and a downright bubbly personality, who made sure Toshinori ate every last piece of their shared snacks. He just finished telling the kids about how he saw All Might battle Toxic Chainsaw, when he noticed the silver fix the brunette's collar with a lot of fussing about properly representing the orphanage.

A quick tug on his sleeve pulled him out of his reverie back to reality, but for some reason he couldn't shake the vision of the two boys.

*

Fifteen minutes later, barricaded in a tiny bathroom, and squatting on the toilet he is holding a cellphone in his hand he comes up with a downright insane plan, which for some utterly irresponsible and completely crazy reason in the mirror copy of what Present Mic did not even a week ago.

"Madara-san?", he whispers into the receiver filled with sounds of struggle and fighting.

"I am slightly busy", the man grunts back, as he hears the sound of a fist colliding with a body and another more muffled grunt. Is the man out working right now? That would explain why he asked the favor.

"That's understandable, but tell me is the process of adoption difficult?", he queries, thinking about two little boys named Daichi and Koushi that he played with earlier and cursing the trip to the bar a couple of days ago. His days of heroism are numbered, so he might as well become a hero in any way that he can be, even if Tsukauchi is going to bust his balls over this. A whole different thing is that he can almost hear the Uchiha's smirk over the phone.

***

A certain invisible girl spent an afternoon picking petals off of flowers, "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me not...", she chanted under her breath. She would smile giddily every time the flower would end on 'he loves me', and pout sourly when petals ran out at 'he love men not'.

***

Bakugou Angry-Motherf*cker Katsuki, a boy who's life was so filled with swear words that even Samuel L. Jackson would feel uncomfortable narrating it was grinding his teeth to the point of igniting sparks, when he read the response from his childhood friend, crush and current cuddle pillow Izuku Uchiha.

"That f*ck up", he hissed like a king cobra. He would have called the twerp a bastard if not for his respect to the boy's father. The message was rather succinct, 'Gone to the shore. Be back for the festival. Train hard!'. There was a flurry of fifty shades of red mixing in his heart. Some part of him wanted to be hurt that he was being left behind. However that was quickly choked down by another idea as wild as the boy himself. He is going to fight Izuku and he is going to prove himself superior and then Izuku will have to accept his confession. He nods, eyes alight with conviction, before stomping off home.

***

Izuku of all people decided that the time has come for him to finally train by himself. By no means was he tired of learning from his dad, Madara is a wonderful teacher. Only that this time around he really wanted to do something flashy. Something his dad wouldn't foresee. Said idea involved a lot of sneaking into his dad's secret office, one filled with scrolls marked in bizarre script and color coded to match gods only know what. However after a lot of searching he finally found what he was looking for.

Now sitting on the sand, scroll in one hand and onigiri in the other he was reading the translated version. Apparently his dad wanted to one day pass this onto him. The interesting part is that he had never seen his father perform Wood Release, and yet here it was, a scroll written as though he had done it countless number of times.

"Wooden clones, huh?", Izuku mutters over a mouthful of rice.

***

To say Madara Uchiha's week was difficult is an understatement of the century. The week before the sports festival was hell. It was as though he was dealing with baby Izuku screaming his head off every other hour because he either needed to be fed, have his diaper changed, wanted to cuddle or simply for the fun of it. On top of that something, probably his overgrown ego and ambition, pushed him into training two of his recently discovered students. Shinsou was a fairly simple case, even if all the sitting on the cold ground had his lower back aching.

Unfortunately Mashirao was a totally different case. The boy was obedient, dedicated, driven and had absolutely zero talent for anything but taijutsu. That had Madara puzzled at first. Izuku, being a well rounded out and balanced fighter was a force in himself, even if he preferred ninjutsu. Shinsou had a major advantage through natural proficiency with genjutsu, even if it required some enhancements. Ojiro in turn was physically a powerhouse, an unstoppable combat machine. There was also the question of his strange chakra behavior, it only showing up when the boy was 'in the zone'. It left Madara stumped for two days, until he figured it out.

"So what is it today? Kicks, punches?", the boy queried at the crack of dawn. They were a good mile away from the onsen, his shadow clone training Shinsou.

"Today is Yoga and then I will spar with you as though I really wanted to hurt you", he proclaimed, and despite the initial rocky start the routine stuck so well, that by the end of the day they had made enough progress for the boy to at least be capable of using his chakra.

However he needed something much, much faster, he needed to bring Mashirao up to speed in only a couple of days. He sat meditating about it, or rather watching a discovery channel video, when he saw an elephant blow its tube in the evening.

"The evening elephant", he muttered remembering the punches which nearly tore him to shreds. Could this work here?

*

Sure as hell Madara Uchiha wouldn't let his sons go unguarded. As such he bared witness to two highly astonishing events. First of all a sudden though perhaps not unexpected change in Shinsou's target. Second his son mastering a new technique. As soon as the festival concludes he will have to introduce Mashirao to Inko. But for now, he can't wait to see what his little students will show.

Chapter 20: The race

Chapter Text

His old years must be getting to him, and by old years he means not a day above forty five. It has been an eventful week, in fact that is an understatement, Madara concludes, his mind still somewhat sleepy, as the alarm clock belts out another lyric of "California Gurls". For educational purposes he starts contemplating a month long vacation, especially after last week. Speaking of, what could get the invincible mortal so exhausted? Perhaps watching three teenagers 24/7, not to mention stopping small time thieves and muggers in the more run down parts of the hero city. Inko would have scolded him for overworking himself, the gentle woman once even smacked him with a rolling pin across the head when he came home after a nearly five days long stake out, hallucinating from sleep deprivation. The pin broke, luckily his skull held.

Rubbing his face Madara reviewed what he seemed to have witnessed just last week. Izuku made wooden clones, a feat which only two shinobi in history accomplished. On top of that they were surprisingly well behaved, having helped a number of elderly people with shopping and building sand castles with kids. Not a very serious training, however Madara could see what it would do to Izuku's chakra control, the one department he sorely lacked. Patrolling the city he recalls seeing Katsuki a couple of times, the boy training his ass off in the empty parking lots or by the river. He would have gladly stopped to watch if not for the fact he was rather busy. Hitoshi confessed to Mashirao only to get rejected, well that happens, but it begs the question of how exactly his student fell out of love for Izuku and now seemed to fall head over heels for his other son. At least that's what he judged when he watched a rapid onset of blush catch Hitoshi's cheeks when he woke up with Mashirao's head in his lap. Nevertheless he is extremely proud, Hitoshi is a genius with genjutsu, and it makes up somewhat for his complete anti talent for the remaining ninja arts. Actually doesn't that make his somewhat resemble the object of his affections? Mashirao, 'The Elegant Beast of Konoha' or perhaps the 'Konoha's handsome devil'? Madara shudders at the thought despite the warm comfort of his bed. And yet if Mashirao was to ever reach such terrifying power...

The alarm rolls into a loud "Caaaaaalifornia!", before the sugary voice of Katy Perry combined with Snoop's rap are too much to bear and he slaps the black box. It's still dark outside, and he feels like an old man as he heaves his ass out of bed. Still he has got to make breakfast, set out training clothes for the boys and finally give them the gifts he stored away for this occasion. A swift thought crosses his mind, that maybe he made a mistake setting out Hitoshi's futton in Mashirao's room.

***

Stretching his arms Madara slowly treads towards the kitchen, his bare feet not making the slightest noise as he moves past the boys' rooms. It's still an hour until it will be time to wake them up. He is crossing the living room when the TV suddenly turns on. The hero quirks a single eyebrow and yawns profusely before turning to the electronic device.

The screen is pitch black apart from a single white ring. A single white ring.... Hang on, he has seen that before, hasn't he? The ring transitions into a picture of some well, with the cover slowly sliding off. Of course! The police video, the mysterious deaths! A small interested smile spreads on Madara's face, after all nothing gets his juices flowing like a fight. What more, maybe this mystery killer is some strong! A little feeling of excitement bubbles through his chest as he steps over to the screen to examine the picture more thoroughly. He almost jumps when a girl with jet black hair covering her face, wearing nothing but a soaked nightgown crawls out. The girl moves with inhuman speed, barely a second later already standing just in front of the camera. And then her arm is reaching though the glass surface, as though there was nothing separating them. Madara almost squeals in delight.

"Seven days", she breathes, and Madara can smell the stench of rot, mildew and old well water. It brings back so many violent memories he almost smiles.

The hand touches his cheek, it's wet and slimy, the skin peeling in places, revealing rotten muscle and sometimes even the white of bone. It's barely a brush, but Madara already feels a sense of exhilaration run through him. It's been eons since he felt so much bloodlust emanating from anyone. She crawls forward slowly, her long hair catching on the edge of the screen, parting to reveal a single pitch black eye without an iris. There is a tense moment of eye contact, Madara peering into the black expectantly but nothing happens. There is just a vague sense that he should be scared. The situation is comparable to expecting a huge birthday cake and receiving a cupcake with a candle on top.

"How disappointing", he mutters, before raising his hand to place it on the girl's cheek. His eyes, already turning crimson, reveal the kaleidoscope to the woman, whomever she is. "Know that I am fear", he hisses with a heinous smile. Perhaps it's his imagination but the demon gasps and tries pulling back, but now he is holding the struggling girl by the back of her head, showing her a lifetime of horror even a demon could not imagine, before dumping her back into the TV, her dirty gown quickly soaking up mud.

Madara releases a pained huff, wiping a single bloody tear, and watching the girl scurry back into the well, tripping and sputtering. It's almost comical, had she not killed three people. Hopefully that will teach her a lesson. A moment later she falls into the well with a wet splat, before the cover is pulled shut with so much force it might damn well never open again. "So much for the mystery killer", he mutters almost pouting. The TV turns itself off. What a pity. Well he is at least a little awake now. And the police have got another mystery out of their hair, which begs the question, just how exactly does one file such an incident?

***

When the first wisps of consciousness reach him Hitoshi realizes that he is too warm to feel fully comfortable. He reaches out blindly to throw the blanket off, but for some reason it isn't there and he is still too warm and something is clinging to him. The alarm hasn't rung yet, so he knows it's not time to be up yet, still it's unnerving. With a low sigh he cracks an eye open only to see a rather muscled arm slung across his stomach and a head of blond hair resting on his chest...

Suddenly he grows very aware of what or rather who the heating blanket is. On cue his brain forgets how to breath and control his heart, sending the dumb blood pump into over drive. sh*t, sh*t, sh*t! His mind starts shrieking, the little devil and angel once again dancing in his field of vision.

'Go ahead, snuggle with him, maybe he will change his mind', the devil laughs lounging in the air on his pitchfork.

'Don't do it Hitoshi. Slip out and never bring this up', the angel challenges.

For a moment he ponders the options. It would really be much better for Mashirao not to wake like this. After all he has someone special in his life and despite his selfish nature Hitoshi would hate to intrude and walk all over these feelings. Then again how many chances is he going to have like these? Hitoshi clenches his jaw, noticing how Mashirao's other hand grabbed the hem of his shirt. He concludes that he is a weak, feeble man as he slowly brings his arm around his crush to bring him closer and watches the devil prod the angel with a pitchfork before disappearing. It would have been perfect if not for the sudden sound of a shutter paired with a mischievous grin on Izuku's face popping into his field of vision.

***

There is something wrong with his boys. Madara concludes. It's almost like they switched personalities! Izuku has a smirk painted on his lips, and that's Hitoshi's default expression. His favorite insomniac looks like he just swallowed a meter long stick full of principles and that's what Mashirao's like. While his blond son, looks like a youthful girl who was just caught staring at her crush, a red blubbering mess. How is seven hells are they to compete in this state?! Psychologically speaking between the three of them they wouldn't be able to take a teddy bear down!

"Boys?", he queries, with a hawk like gaze raking over the three suspects, his arms folded across his chest. Mashirao squirms like he just swallowed a toad. Izuku is mimicking, luckily very poorly, one of his more villainous smiles, meanwhile Hitoshi remains as expressionless as a man dealt a royal flush at a high stakes game. "What happened?", he asks slowly watching Mashirao color and blabber something utterly incomprehensible about falling out of bed, before almost booking it out of the room if not for Hitoshi holding onto the fluffy tip of his tail, and dragging him back to the table with surprising strength.

They break into a small struggle as Izuku watches, undoubtedly satisfied with himself, sipping miso soup. At least now he knows who holds all the blackmail material at the table.

"Enlighten me", Madara says, folding his arms, as Mashirao pins Hitoshi to the floor. The insomniac is about to open his mouth when the tail is wrapped around his face, covering his lips. The blond assumes the look of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Caught them snuggling", Izuku hums noncommittally, though there is a sly glint to his eyes. Madara gives the two struggling teens a blank stare. Is this what it's all about? Knowing Hitoshi he expected far worse, especially that the love confession is already out of the picture.

"This is not what it sounds like", Mashirao protests weakly, from above a struggling Hitoshi. Madara sighs tiredly, oh to be young again.

"Look boys. I am going to be blunt", the hero says menacingly, pinning each boy with a look, "Get your collective head out of your individual asses and focus on the game, because a lot of your classmates are so psyched about this that your little drama bears no resemblance. The two of you, there is nothing inherently wrong with hugging a friend, even if this seems somewhat intimate. You didn't do anything...more... did you?", Madara asks, watching the troublemakers shake their heads. He exhales with relief, "Then there is nothing wrong. And you Izuku, any blackmail material is to be deleted", he adds with satisfaction seeing his son pout. "Now, I have something important to give you before we finish breakfast", the hero says, reaching into his pocket. With a small smile he pulls out three forehead protectors with the Konoha emblem etched onto them. "Wear them proudly and show them everything you have learned", he instructs theatrically, before getting up, "And don't do anything I wouldn't", he adds in an attempt to curb any reckless pursuits.

***

Being a PI and now a ranked hero, albeit in the low two hundreds still has a multitude of advantages. For starters he gets to enjoy a first row seat to the show. By that of course he means the teachers' lounge complete with cold drinks, popcorn, and surprisingly a mandatory turn at baby sitting four ridiculously cute boys that are currently proud children to three members of UA staff and one terribly overworked detective. Speaking of the detective, he will have to report the morning incident with the TV.

That's how he ends up with Shoyou and Tobio nestled in his arms, while Daichi and Suga sit cross legged right next to him staring at huge flat screens covering the walls.

"Oh look it's Mashi-oonichan!", the redhead trills, his little chubby finger pointing at one of the screens. Indeed as Bakugou gives his short, albeit highly entertaining speech, which consists of an obviously implied love confession, his boys stand there fidgeting. The forehead protectors reflect the sun slightly, as they almost huddle together discussing something animatedly, probably strategy.

"I hope he wins", Tobio adds from his other arm his navy eyes trained on screen as well.

For some reason Daichi and Suga stay quiet. Madara follows their line of sight to another screen, one featuring third years, quickly locating a boisterous blond giving a speech filled with heroic rhetoric and not much practical knowledge.

"You think he will win?", Suga asks tugging gently on the sleeve of UA shirt Daichi is wearing. The other boy runs his hand through the crop cut of his jet black hair.

"Dad said that he will", he answers, voice full of certainty. Madara smiles to himself, watching the teen gesticulate wildly. Ah, so Yagi finally found a worthy successor. How nice. This year will be quite a show. If only Aizawa hadn't expelled the entirety of last year's class. Well too bad.

The students slowly line up on the start line, and Madara smiles giddily, the show is about to start.

A split second later Midnight gives the signal to start, and the students barrel forth, sprinting at top speed like an uncoordinated slab of bodies willing to crush anything in its path. He notes happily that the boys are coordinating, Mashirao protecting Hitoshi's side, while still maintaining some sort of vision on Hagakure. However the race is designed to test the students thoroughly, and the next moment an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, namely a sudden narrowing of the path. The mob gets stuck, the students shouting at one another, nearly trampling one another in an effort to bypass the blockage.

"Sho, Tobio, take a look. You see how they got clogged there?", Madara asks, bouncing the boys slightly.

"They are all bwaaaah!", Shoyou answers, his eyes shining with a million of stars. Quite expressive vocabulary, Madara notes. The Sharingan picks up Todoroki's intentions immediately. For a split second he ponders if Izuku will be able to bypass what Endeavor's son is about to throw into the mix.

"Watch carefully", he whispers, and a moment later the narrow pass is coated in ice. The students cursing, and screaming loudly, as Todoroki and the majority of class 1-A pass them, becoming forerunners. In the mess of bodies it takes Madara a minute to locate his sons, who apparently took the high route. Izuku and Hitoshi are running on the vertical wall, clearly astounding the other students with the display defying gravity. Mashirao is bouncing from wall to wall, using his tail to direct the next jump in a monkey like demonstration of agility. Soon enough they catch up to the remainder of 1-A, leaving most of the students in the dust.

"Mashi-oonichan is really a monkey", Tobio notes, eyes trained on the display before taking another loud slurp from a carton of milk.

"Hey, it's not nice to call someone a monkey", Suga scolds gently, his eyes glued to Yagi's apprentice who obliterates a huge robot with a single punch. Quite impressive, to have this much control over that quirk in such a short time... That Mirio Toogata is really something.

Meanwhile his sons arrive at the same stage the third year has just left. The zero pointers roll out, colossal machines nearly blocking out the sun. Madara studies the students' reactions as Present Mic throws out commentary like the Chicago Typewriter does bullets. Smaller robots swarm around the students busying most. Because not a breath passes between Todoroki seeing an opportunity and taking it, as he freezes the entirety of the zero pointer in a single slab of ice.

"Gwaaaah!", Shouyou yells from his arm, nearly falling off from how far he leaned forward.

"Amazing", Madara says, his eyes widening. It was a single swipe of a hand, perhaps even in this world exist warriors with strength even beyond the supernatural. It's going to be interesting to see Izuku deal with him. Speaking of, his sons are snaking their way through the throng of machines. Izuku, Mashirao and a couple of other students are spearheading a route through a crack in the robots defense. It's interesting to watch, and it's clear Hitoshi is in control of the remaining two students, a boy with stark red hair, Kirishima, Madara remembers, and another one, who manipulates electricity. It's a good tactic, not one he would take. They are certainly holding back in case they need more strength for further parts of the festival. Still, Izuku could probably obliterate most of the obstacles with a fire technique.

The boys arrive at the second part of the obstacle course, leaving behind two very confused young men. Running along a rope is fairly simple for Izuku, but when Hitoshi almost falls off Mashirao grabs him using his tail and carries him across, much to the insomniac's horror.

"I think the boy Mashi-oonichan is carrying likes him", Shoyou says, making Madara almost spit out his soda. Well he certainly is on point. "Maybe Mashi-oonichan likes him too if he is carrying him like this", Tobio adds absentmindedly, the boys staring at the scene of Mashirao almost running across the rope, using his tail to balance and carrying a horribly blushing Hitoshi.

"Now the whole of Japan knows you are gay for him", Madara mutters, the corners of his lips quirked up. The boys make it over the ropes without much difficulty, and despite staying in the top ten beforehand they are quite far behind now. Unsurprisingly Bakugou and Todoroki are in the lead, both already halfway through a mine field comprising the last part of the course.

Present Mic screams into the microphone as Bakugou and Todoroki start fiery attempts at punching one another out. And that's precisely the moment when Izuku's reckless streak, God only knows whom he takes after with that, kicks in. Madara watches his jaw dropping, as Izuku claps his hands together in a snake seal and huge tangled root grabs his boys around their waists.

"Don't you dare!", Madara hollers at the monitor.

"WHAT IS THIS?! DID THE FOREST JUST COME TO LIFE?! AIZAWA THIS WAS NOT IN THE MEMO!", Present Mic's commentary reaches a crescendo, as the root pulls back and launches the three boys high into the sky, into a spinning, screaming mess of limbs and curses.

"Oh, he is so grounded", Madara bristles, setting Mic's and Shota's sons on the floor, and rolling up his sleeves, as he storms out of the room, to head for the nearest spectators' area. "I am going to ground him so hard he will remember till he is sixty", he grumbles speeding down the corridor. Zipping past Endeavor he doesn't notice the spectator who's drink ends up extinguishing the man's beard.

Luckily he makes it to the stands to see Izuku spit out a gigantic ball of mucus which softens their fall, but catches Todoroki and Bakugou in the splash area. All five are rolling, slipping and running towards the finish line, the last one hundred meters stretch, which turns into a brutal melee. Any semblance of teamwork or cooperation goes out the window as every single one of the boys starts fighting for themselves. Heck, even the immortal love declared by Bakugou not ten minutes ago is gone, replace with fiery promise of death. Todoroki tries freezing the whole squad in place, only to be bitch slapped by Hitoshi, who's hair is immediately pulled by Bakugou. Izuku tries getting ahead only to be bitten on the arm by Mashirao, who's tail is yanked back by Hitoshi. Madara grabs his hair, yanking slightly, as he watches the fight escalate. Bakugou's explosion aimed at Todorki is redirected by an accidental swipe of a tail into the sky, Izuku accidentally elbows Todoroki in the face. The finish line is almost upon them, maybe just meters ahead. One of the boys trips, pulling the rest to the ground in a rolling mess of slippery limbs, which ends up sliding through the finish line with Izuku head first.

"AND LADIES AND GENTELMAN THANKS TO MODERN TECHNOLOGY WE HAVE A VERDICT!!! FIRST PLACE IZUKU UCHIHA, SECOND BAKUGOU KATSUKI, THIRD PLACE BY THE LENGTH OF HIS TAIL MASHIRAO UCHIHA, FOURTH TODOROKI SHOUTO, AND FIFTH HITOSHI SHINSOU! WHAT AN EXCITING FINISH!", Present Mic roars, thoroughly ignoring the fact that his son just used everything that was not described in his student card as his quirk.

"Madara can we talk about your son's quirk?", a high pitched soft voice reaches the hero's ears. Ah, well time to do some explaining to Nedzu-sensei. He smiles to himself, watching the boys celebrate, Katsuki being pulled into a hug by Izuku, who comes up to each one of his friends to congratulate them with the affectionate gesture.

"I think it would be best if you'd witness it for yourself sensei. We still have two rounds left, don't we?", he queries, with a grin. This is going to be a most exciting sports festival.

Chapter 21: The roar of a dragon

Chapter Text

Going to Hosu Tensei was as hyped as a six year old on energy drinks. Why wouldn't he be? He was about to embark on an epic hunt for the most notorious killer to walk that city's street in over a decade. Truth be told, there was another reason which had his heart soaring. He has been visiting the not so far away city for the past month, always picking up coffee from the same grumpy bartender. It all started with a chance encounter during a routine patrol and led to Tensei questioning everything he knew about his sexuality in regards to a devilishly stoic man. Now he wasn't sure what started it, perhaps it was the perfectly calm demeanor and the way the man served coffee even when a villain raged outside, not giving a flying f*ck or even considering abandoning his post when half of the wall was blown to rubble. Or maybe it was the way the man dumped a whole mug of steaming esspresso in the villain's face when they tried taking him hostage. Perhaps it was the way the blue apron matched the black shirt and sharp red eyes seated under a frown that could frighten even the most courageous of heroes when the man got pissed off at a rowdy customer. Or maybe it silvery stubble on the man's cheeks which reflected the morning sunlight in the most stunning of ways. Ok, maybe we should stop right here because Tensei could probably go on for a couple more hours about how wonderful his grump is. Unfortunately we do not have the time for that, do we?

Moving on. Tensei found himself, like every day for the past month, walking into Cafe Ho, where his favorite bartender was making coffee. The establishment itself was nothing big, practically a hole in the wall place, with a few plants here and there giving it a homelier feel. The cafe was run by four guys, four completely ordinary, quirkless, as they always highlighted, guys. During his visits he got to know them quite well, even if the exotic names eluded him on a few of his first visits. But Tensei always dropped in during mornings when he was certain he would meet his favorite barkeep.

"Hello!" he calls from the doors, as the smell of cinnamon and fresh shrubbery fills his nose. Soft jazz pours from the speakers filling the tiny cafe with life despite its apparent lack of clientelle. The man in question is standing behind the counter, wiping clean an already spotless coffee cup. Tensei gets a first row view to the peaceful, focused expression and the glimmers of morning sunlight coloring the man's silver hair gold. Yeah, he is in deep. Sharp, red eyes meet his own navy ones, before a curt nod answers him. His crush is wearing a black button down, and his standard dark blue apron. The rolled up sleeves expose thick forearms, which always confirm that the bartender works out religiously. And yet the man for whom the hero lost his head isn't clunky or stiff like most people who spend their evenings at the gym, instead his movements hold the mesmerizing, fluent grace of a dancer or maybe a boxer. The stern look on the barkeep's face could very well be something he picked up from a more disciplined art though, maybe Karate?

"The usual?" the man asks in a gruff voice, ripping the hero away from his musings. Tensei's heart skips a beat, as he waltzes over to the counter. He made sure to drop in today already dressed in his hero suit, hoping to dazzle the hard to get bartender, even if this strategy did not quite work on their first meeting. The trick always worked with girls, but somehow his man seems completely unmoved by all his tactics and plays, and Tensei has some plays. Back in the day Eraserhead and Present Mic used to call him 'The Heartcrusher'. The ominous nickname was gained after he officially crossed the twelve girlfriends mark in his second year of UA. He couldn't really help the fact that they flocked to him like bees to honey. However never, ever before was he actually forced to chase someone, in love life that is, since his hero work mainly consisted of chasing.

"Yep, and your digits if you will," Tensei answers with a million dollar smile. A pair of red eyes fixes him with a half hearted glare, and for a moment he almost hopes that today he will finally succeed. However the man doesn't reply, choosing to turn back to the coffee machine, and finish up the americano. A moment later the cup is set down gently on the counter in front of Tensei, who takes to drinking his coffee while trying to chat the bartender up. As always the man answers with little to no words, or just glares menacingly. However the quirk of the man's lips is an unmistakable smile which rouses a plague of butterflies in the hero's stomach.

"I am too old for you Iida-san," the bartender finally answers, little fires of mirth dancing in his eyes, as he rests his elbows on the counter. It's only now that Tensei notices that they were at eye level. He is close enough to smell the hot chocolate the man always drinks while at work mixed with peppermint toothpaste. The sudden proximity sends the winged plague in the hero's stomach into a maddening dance of destruction. Without realizing it the man dropping to Tensei's eye level gave him a view which seemed to have awoken a rather poetically pathetic side of the hero. But right now he can also see so much more. He can see the faint pink of the man's scar on his chin, the barely visible laugh wrinkles around his eyes, which aren't as much red, as a mixture of crimson and brown, cedar, yes that was the right way to call this intricate color. A few seconds pass before the hero realizes he is staring, and forces his brain into hyperdrive in order to come up with anything coherent which isn't a straight up love confession befitting a highschooler, even if he is tempted to give one.

"How old could you be? Thirty?" Ingenium jokes struggling to keep the shade of red on his cheeks between stroke-victim-crimson and prize-winning-tomato-red, while grinning sheepishly at the barkeep. A flicker of surprise in the cedar eyes makes him grin even wider. He hit the nail on the head! Feeling triumphant, he takes a sip of his coffee. This is by far not the best coffee in town, it's not the worst either. Then again it is not the coffee he is coming here for.

The man in front of him sighs, tilting his head, his spiky hair falling in his eyes, before it is combed away, Tensei wishes he could be the one to run his hand through these soft looking spikes. "Thirty two", the bartender finally answers, and Tensei nearly spits his coffee out. He expected them to be a little further apart, but this... this is awesome!

"We are nearly the same age!" he calls happily. The man quirks his eyebrow again, "You look young", he remarks. Tensei's cheeks heat up once more. Was that a compliment? For a moment they sit in silence, Tensei slurping his coffee, the bartender in front of him wiping another mug spotless. This strange dynamic of remission flirting has been going on for a week now, and in all honesty the hero feels exhilarated every time he sees the barkeep. A couple of days back they ran into one another when he was coming back from the shift. Mr.Bartender was wearing a loose midnight blue shirt and black sweats that day. They grabbed a small lunch during which they talked about their brothers. Tensei complained that Tenya is too uptight, while his crush and soon to be boyfriend whined about his brother's utter lack of discipline and ridiculous hero worship. All in all it was a nice day, especially after he got a promise of a repeat.

"Why did you come in your armor today?" the man asks out of the blue, breaking the companionable silence, his cedar eyes scrutinizing the suit Tensei is so proud of. It's really a work of art, he invested a lot into it, designing some of the parts himself. Some heroes say it is too clunky to be useful, however Tensei can't even begin to count the number of times it had saved him from a fatal crash and a date with St Peter.

"We are tracking a dangerous villain today. You might have heard of him. Stain, The Hero Killer," the hero replies and hisses, when his tongue is burned by the steaming coffee. He misses how the bartender's eyes widen by a fraction, before regaining their steady gaze.

"Oh, careful with that," the older man says, pulling the cup out of Tensei's hands with surprising agility. Their palms brush, and Tensei's breath hitches, "You want me to make it to go?" the handsome man who won his heart smiles. It's the first smile he gets from the bartender today, and it almost knocks him right off the stool with its sheer brightness. His heart hammers madly, as his crush leans in with the cup in his hand. They are so close that if he only had enough courage to lean in... But he doesn't, because something tells him that Mr.Bartender would crack his skull open with that cup he has just fished out of his trembling hands.

"Yes!", Tensei yelps, his eyes fleeting over the thin line of the man's lips, before snapping back to the cedar irises, once again he is just a few moments too late. 'My is he handsome,' his traitorous mind supplies, while the hero's ears threaten to catch fire. He is making such a fool of himself!

The bartender smirks, before taking a paper cup from the stack, "Just so you know Iida-san, when you come back from your hunt we can go on that date you did not ask me to," the man says, scribbling something on the paper cup.

Tensei is lost for words. Did he just... get asked out on a date? He watches the man, slip around the coffee machine, and grab a small sliver of paper. The sharpie squeaks again, and Tensei still can't believe his luck. Almost a month, almost a damn month until he finally managed to score a date. That's like the longest he has ever had a girlfriend, ever!

"Oh and here is my phone number," the bartender gives him another radiant smile before pushing the paper towards the awestruck hero.

Tensei takes it out much later, just before he goes on the mission. However for the love of all things holy and not he can't figure out why his future boyfriend drew a spider on the back. Nevertheless the paper ends up in his wallet, safe and secure, the first present he was given by his silver haired grump.

***

He is watching his boys, smeared in dirt, cheering over one another and celebrating. And with good reason, his three students, including two wonderful sons, came in the top five of the race. A rare, soft smile spreads across Madara's lips, he already knows that his victory will be the root of all the fighting the three of them will have to put up in order to stay in the game. Right now Izuku is almost tackling Todoroki to the ground with the force of the surprise hug, the other boy flinching in surprise. Huh, that... that is familiar. It feels like eons have passed since back then, but he could spot it anywhere.

"I should have known," he mutters leaning on railing, watching little Todoroki stiffen, and finally get toppled to the ground by his laughing son. "That bastard!" Madara grinds out, hitting the metal with his fist. He knew Enji Todoroki is a pure hearted, violent piece of sh*t that just wouldn't flush, but this is the new low. Madara was well aware of the villain's poor wife's fate. Yes, he used the word villain for number two hero, this is no mistake. If you circle down the drains of the underworld long enough you can always figure out somebody's dirty secret. Just like Cardinal Richelieu said, 'If you give me six lines written by the hand of the most honest of men, I will find something in them which will hang him,' only in case of Enji Todoroki he didn't need six lines, and that scum was by far not the most honest of men. But this?! THIS! Madara's teeth clenched painfully, as his eyes started seeking out that fire bearded f*ck. To dare raise a hand against your own child?! Your own flesh and blood! How revolting!

He was already seething, ready to compost that walking pile of burning trash. Pulling on chakra to make that leap across the stadium and put Todoroki's medical plan to a grueling test, when a sudden sound of the principal clearing his throat stops his dead short.

"So Uchiha-san I take it that there is some explaining to do regarding your and your son's quirks?" the headmaster queries from behind him. Madara chuckles dryly, his rage still not exactly subsided after his realization. He decides to put his revenge off, after all it is best served cold. For now there are other fish to fry.

Explaining? That's a whole different beast to tackle. How is he to explain that he reincarnated into this world, found a wonderful wife, had a kid, and it so happened that he came across not one but two prodigies of the special kind. Unwillingly he tears his eyes away from the merry scene below Izuku standing in the center of the concrete stage with his fist raised high in the air, as the crowds cheer like mad, and Present Mic yells commentary.

"Nezu-sensei. Have you ever heard of chakra?" Madara asks, turning around to look at the bear. He will fry the Enji Todoroki fish when he is done with this. Their position is a little strange, Nezu reaching to about his knee, so favoring a more direct style of communication he kneels down. Supposedly it makes a hero more friendly, at least that's what he read somewhere. It also feels hell of a lot awkward, maybe that's why Nedzu almost always talks to him when sitting on somebody's arm, or standing on his desk. Maybe the little brave bear just wants to feel tall. His lips wobble in a half smile, at the idea, even if he feels sick to the stomach.

"I chance a guess you are not referring to any sort of Hindu or Tibetan practices?" the headmaster smiles, and clasps his paws together behind his back. Madara looks at the shrewd man in front of him. He has yet to tell a living soul the truth about the land of fire, and Nezu will certainly not be the first to learn about his true origin. Still, if he wants what best for his son, and part of that is complete education and a friendly high school experience, he will need to shed a little light on their powers.

"You are correct in that assumption," he answers after a moment of silence, before running a hand through his hair which flops right back over his eye. How does he put it? People with the most powerful quirks often ended up being recruited into the military where they are paid good money. Besides it's not like they haven't approached him a couple of times already. And most likely they will try to headhunt Izuku, Mashirao and Hitoshi now. However he can't put their abilities as a quirk, because there are just no quirks that powerful in general public. Besides Mashirao evidently has one already, and yet he just demonstrated agility beyond human. Not to mention Hitoshi who will take control of other students with just a glance. "The thing is that there is a form of energy, called chakra, which my students and I can manipulate. It allows us seemingly impossible feats. However it is not a quirk," he explains as best as he can without revealing too much. With Nezu it is always a game of catch up, with the headmaster being perpetually in the lead by a rather large margin. Who knows if he hasn't already said to much.

"So I give it that you have taught them to control it?" the headmaster queries, his eyes warm and friendly, a most scary facade. Madara's eye twitches, something is most definitely off. If only the Sharingan could reveal someone's intentions, not only their attacks.

"That's true," he replies cautiously, shifting uncomfortably, and watching the headmaster rock on the balls of his feet. The friendly, cunning bear has a way of getting into one's head that even a most skilled genjutsu master would fear.

"And I take we do not have a member of faculty who could provide necessary tutelage for your students?" the headmaster asks, he must have figured out already that Madara is capable of sensing chakra. To be honest the gift is just too rare to hope for more teachers like him, even if he himself is competent enough to pass on all the knowledge the boys will need.

"I taught them and I can continue to do so," he answers without skipping a beat, his pride once again getting the better of him. He managed to hone Izuku's skill and bring Mashirao and Hitoshi almost up to speed on the basics, even if they have a long way ahead of them if they would want to face Izuku in a one on one battle. Be he damned, but he sure is proud of his students and their accomplishments.

The headmaster smiles at him and Madara's heart stops. The hero, albeit too late, realizes that he has just been played! "My point exactly," Nezu grins, before pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, and a pen from the other. Madara's common sense starts tingling. Was letting him pull his students from school part of an elaborate plot? He wouldn't put it past the headmaster. It has been a long time since he was so spectacularly outwitted. Nezu smiles warmly, handing the paper and pen to Madara. "Go on. Read." the bear encourages. The hero looks down at the... something. Because no matter how hard he squints and frowns he can't read a damn letter of this fine printed document. His fingers clench around the paper, hands shaking as he looks up at the gray furred beast.

"Is something wrong with your eyes Madara-san?" the devil himself chirps. Something tells Madara that Nezu should have horns, maybe he files them down, and keeps his spiked tail hidden away in these finally tailored slacks. The hero's fingers twitch as he reaches into his satchel, finally retrieving a pair of black rimmed glasses.

"You won't breathe a word about this Nezu-sensei," Madara says solemnly, placing them on his nose. The little beast in front of him snickers. Feeling his ears burn, he looks down at the paper again and makes a mental note to thank Recovery Girl with a bottle of her favorite sake.

'Teacher Employment Contract'

States the header, and Madara is forced to shake his head, because he damn well might be dreaming.

"You...you can not be serious," he sputters, looking wide eyed at the grinning bear. Him? A teacher? A hero he could do, but a teacher?! He is no good with that, he hardly managed three students. How is he going to manage a class. And how will he squeeze this in between heroics, visits at the orphanage, after school training sessions and most importantly full time fatherhood?!

"Of course I am! You could get more time with your precious son," the headmaster laughs, sauntering over to where Madara is sitting, and nudging him gently with a pen, "It just needs your signature, and you would be able to keep everyone safe," the bear sing songs in his sweetest, most innocent voice, which always foretells either a thrilling adventure or grueling, unbearable, violent work. His hands suddenly feel clammy, and he gulps, calculating his odds, and coming up with jack sh*t. For a split second he questions his better judgment. What would Hashirama do? Probably bet everything on one card and gripped onto his seat in anticipation of the ride. Then again his best friend never was the best role model in terms of practical thought. His brother though... As idiotic as it may sound Madara feels he could use Tobirama's counsel when dealing with the headmaster, especially right now.

"Come on Madara-san. I know you can do it, after all you did at USJ," Nezu whispers, his little paw gently guiding Madara's hand towards the line of the signature. Just when had that furry devil slipped the pen into his hand?! "You won't regret it. Think about your family, your hero career. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity" the demon hisses in his ear, "Some teachers are more busy with their kids now. I won't say who's the reason behind this" the devil himself whispers, and Madara feels his defenses crumble to dust, his will shattered into tiny pieces, as though it was the headmaster, not him, who wielded the Tsukuyomi.

"Yesss, sign" Madara is sure Nezu could not utter a sound this deep as the pen was dragged towards the paper. Isn't this signing a contract under duress?! Would anyone even believe that?

"Do it," Nezu snaps in his ear, tempting him far more decently than any Lord of the Sith ever could.

***

He is sitting with the kids in the play pen again. Daichi and Koushi are braiding his hair with great focus. Tobio and Sho are bouncing on his lap as he stares with dead eyes at Midnight explaining the rules. He feels... drugged. Has the furry beast slipped him something? No, not possible, he would have noticed, certainly seen it. So how did this happen?! How on this f*cking earth did he just become an assistant teacher to class 1-A, who is going to help with the heroics course together with Yagi?! Worse yet, his plethora of problems is going to grow exponentially now, after he know what Yagi is like.

Madara sighs as though someone had just nailed him to a cross, letting complete and utter disbelief wash over him. He, the scourge of the land of fire, the man who could only be killed by one other shinobi is having his hair braided, while contemplating what in seven damn hells he is to teach next week. On top of that there are other issues. For starters Shouto. The boy is standing close to Izuku, listening intently even if from time to time his mismatched eyes stray to the hero's muttering son. A fleeting image of roasting Todoroki Enji over liquid nitrogen fleets through Madara's mind. Why can't he just make people disappear like in the good ol'days. Second he needs to finally introduce Mashirao to Inko. Third he still comes up empty on what do come next Monday. Fourth, he is going to repeat himself, but he really wants to chop of Endeavor's family jewels or gouge out the man's heart with a spoon. Why with a spoon one might ask? Well, because IT IS GOING TO HURT MORE! Lost in his thought he feels a flash in the back of his mind, rousing him from his pondering.

It's so sudden that for a moment his thoughts stop buzzing in his skull like a nest of pissed of Katsukis. That flash... That sensation... He feels chakra saturating his irises, as his heart starts hammering, and mouth goes dry.

"Chakra", the hero mutters as his eyes turn stark red, the Sharingan awakening in full. He glances over the screens, but his students aren't doing anything. Then who?

"Pwetty!", Sho chirps from his arms, already climbing up like a monkey, to take a better look. Little hands clasp his cheeks, before his gaze meets pretty, large, orange orbs. "Bwaaah!", the litle boy makes a very descriptive sound as another flash echoes through his mind. This chakra, it's so familiar, tangible, boiling with fury, while remaining cool and calm, sleek... like water, like... No... It can't be!

***

Tensei is certain he is about to die. After all, laying flat on the concrete with a villain raising his sword to deal the fatal blow usually heralds death. He realizes he should see his life flashing in front of his eyes, but very few memorable scenes come to mind. Instead he feels... regret. Regret that he hadn't been more honest with his family, that he wasn't always as brave, patient, compassionate, that sometimes he belittled Tenya, that he never managed to keep a relationship, that it took him a month to actually ask his handsome bartender out... His chest feels tight, as tears prickle his eyes. He doesn't want to die here, not right now. All he wanted was to be a cool hero! And now he is going to be eviscerated! A small, non panicking part of his brain is pretty proud of coming up with a word longer than 'f*ck'.

He should have called Tenya before this. He should have done a tonne of things, led a braver life, a better life. The hero grits his teeth as the cold grit of steel dragged against concrete echoes in the eerily silent alley.

Oh gods!

"Any last words you parasite?" Stain hisses, standing over him, as he lifts the sword high above his head. Tensei scrunches his eyes shut, a million of thoughts rushing through his head. The swish of the blade through the air sounds like a gunshot, as he tries to curl into a small ball, his paralyzed body refusing any action. The world still, his eyes burn, his ears echo with the thunder of his speeding heart. The dull ache in the shoulder plays the cellos to the orchestra of his doom conducted by Stain. A ragged sob escapes him, only to be answered by pitiful, cold laughter.

"I see," the villain sneers, as Tensei brakes down fully. Tears flow freely from his eyes, as the cold of steel touches his neck, "Don't worry. I'll make it quick," Stain hisses from above. Tensei scrunches his eyes shut. He feels dizzy, choking for that lust breath, as the villain yells the blade falling like a guillotine.

In almost an instant a few things happen. Tensei feels a gust of the wind blow through the alley. A pained whine of steel meeting steel echoes through the alley. The next moment the worlds momentum starts again. A huff of the villain locked in a strength contest with whomever came to save Tensei's hide can be heard.

"Who are you?" Stain hisses, before a roar of water fills the alley drowning out anything else. Tensei can hear Stain screaming and the sound of a body crashing against concrete. Tensei feels lightheaded, and for a moment he isn't sure if he hasn't died actually and this is just the beginning of the after life, especially when he hears what he can only imagine be a roar of a dragon. A thundering noise, which shakes him to the very core. It sends a shiver down his spine, as cold water splashes over his head.

It's barely a few seconds later that the roar ends, but to Tensei it's a whole lifetime. A million questions speed through his mind. Who? How? Why? Even if some are obvious he lacks the presence of mind to answer. He dares open his eyes, and shift as much as he can, trying to take in the entirety of the alley is empty, albeit completely soaked. The dumpsters and trash bins have been blown clean out the other end, heck the pressure of the water was so great that the walls have been scrubbed from years of dirt.

What the hell was that?! Stain is nowhere in sight, most likely having fled after the sudden attack.

Slowly the feeling in his fingers and then toes comes back, and after a few minutes he is back on his feet. A few ideas form in his head, none of them having much to do with what he just survived, but instead having everything in common with the arm length list of regrets he came up with when faced with death.

Chapter 22: Kings

Chapter Text

"I am sorry" the philosophy student said, already raising his hand to his kouhai's forehead, index and middle finger extended, ready to poke the bubbly Yuui Kirishima, older sister to one extremely manly UA student. However before he could do that he froze mid movement, and smiled softly at the tank top wearing, shark toothed, black haired young girl. Slowly his hand fell to his side, the girl tracking the tips of his fingers, at first cross eyed, later normally, but still with the same dopey grin. A sudden gust of wind ruffled his black hair, sending the black, silky strands, not bound into the short ponytail, dancing in the fresh morning air. "Next time" he added, as an old memory danced in front of his eyes, spreading a soft smile on his face.

"But my brother is participating" the younger girl whined, with an expression of a three legged, kicked puppy. It must be hereditary, since the philosophy student knew the entirety of the Kirishima family, being a frequent guest to the overbearingly friendly family, who treated him like their eighth or so child.

"Next time" the philosopher laughed, and poked his friend's forehead, before darting off down the alley heading straight for a certain cafe he was already late for. He wasn't sure why, but something told him that he was missing quite a spectacle. As he averted his eyes the camera zoomed in on a small band of boys celebrating.

***

"This year's second competition is the king of the castle!", Midnight announced, her voice rolling around the stadium as the crowd cheered. Izuku listened in focus as the heroine ran through the rules. Everyone can divide themselves into teams of maximum five people. So they will be working in a team of three, if he uses the Wooden Clone Technique they should be able to close the gap. He rubbed his chin contemplatively, trying his best to keep the muttering on the lowest volume. Still, a coarse tail sneaked it's way around his face, blocking out any of the verbal spew he was spouting.

"Don't give your plan away little brother" Mashirao whispered from behind him, nudging him gently on the ribs. He is about to answer, but stops mid sentence, as his mouth goes dry. A flash blinds him for just a moment, the sound of a rushing waterfall, the taste of boiled water. All of these appear and vanish in the span of less than a blink of an eye. That feeling... It's power was petrifying beyond belief, something, no someone that could possibly go toe to toe with dad. Izuku's hands started shaking as he looked frantically around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. He found himself short of breath, the afterthought of scalding water still fresh on his skin, cold sweat dripping down his back. It was chakra, someone was using chakra!

"Izuku?" his brother's soft voice almost caused him to jump out of his skin, but he was quickly spun around to face a pair of razor sharp dark eyes. Mashirao was gripping his shoulder tightly, his other hand holding Izuku's in case the boy fell, deep worry was etched into a frown on his brow. "You all right?" the blond queried tilting his head in a slightly cat like fashion. It came across the younger boy's mind that Hicchan would have been thrilled. However the thought evaporated as quickly as it formed, as a snap from Midnight drew them back to full attention.

The heroine kept going over the rules. Each team would select a king and a starting point. The king would have to pick a starting point, and isn't allowed to move outside of a ten meter circle from that starting zone. The remaining players are free to roam the play area. That doesn't sound to difficult. And that's precisely when a target is painted on his back, a one million point target, which in all honesty makes him feel slightly faint, and quite forgetful in regards to a strange surge of chakra which in no way reminded him of his father's power.

***

"So what's the plan `little` Uchihas?", Hitoshi gloats, as they are squatting in a circle, and trying to evade the death glares sent by their classmates, 1-B and a very hyper looking girl from the support class which causes the insomniac to get a bad case of hibijibies. Mashirao's eye ticks, as he looks up at the purplette. It's not his fault he didn't get to grow tall, besides if he was tall he wouldn't be that agile. They are wearing their headbands on the shoulders, and all things considered it was pretty straight forward to elect Izuku the king. But it doesn't help their situation. The green headed offspring of menace and trouble chose to sit them smack in the middle, with every single team preparing to lay siege upon their defenseless kingdom. Mashirao groans watching Izuku flex his fingers and roll his wrists. He recalls how their first exercise together had gone, and comes up with a single word for what is about to happen.

Carnage.

"How's your chakra holding up?", he queries his younger brother. Izuku looks like he is about to barf with nerves. They had the same thing for lunch, could it be that this tiny daredevil got the case of the jitters. "Little brother?", he asks, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and startling Izuku out of another mumblefest. They have three minutes to prep, and Todoroki right now is playing at being Elsa, Ibara from 1-B went full Bulbazaur, and just about anyone who can fortify their position is digging in, while they are busy sitting on their hands.

The shorter boy shakes his head, before his eyes come back to focus, "We got genjutsu, taijutsu and a mix of all three styles. I am the king. Kacchan knows what I can do, and most of the class is aware of fire and lighting release. Besides I have an ace up my sleeve", Izuku mumbles, and draws a circle in the dirt with his finger. The white of their circle is clearly visible, ten meters really isn't much space, and for a moment Mashirao wonders what said ace is and if he really wants to know if the last time he almost had a nosebleed.

"So what do you want us to do?", Hitoshi asks, eyes roaming over their competition who looks about ready to dive in for the kill, rip them to shreds and then dance hoola on their graves.

"Well, they are going to go straight in for the million points. I need you to make sure that we have enough points if I loose the headband", green eyes meet violet ones, as Izuku draws two arrows outwards, pointing in the same direction, "Play to your strengths, work together. I will play bait", he explains. Mashirao squints down at the lines in the dirt, defense and offense, Bakugou is out by the sidelines, he was chosen king, meaning that he won't be coming after his little brother. Still, leaving Izuku like that...

"It's unwise", Hitoshi answers, rubbing the back of his neck. There we go! Finally a voice of reason.

"Hicchan, we are Uchihas, reckless is our middle name", Izuku smiles in a terrifying grin, which he surely inherited from their father, and Mashirao facepalms.

***

"Are you sure about this?", Mashirao asks, as they stand back to back, eyes roaming the fired up crowd, which has gathered in a tight circle just outside of their parameter. Ten meter radius, that's not a whole lot to be honest. Not with at least two dozens ready and willing to lop his head off for that one mil.

"Yeah. Trust me. Run straight ahead as fast as you can and don't look back", Izuku mutters, his heart thundering to the countdown. His hands are sweating, as he feels the excitement of the fight rampage through his veins. Five seconds. He activates his Sharingan, listening to the grit of dirt under dozens of heels. Sight befalls him, knowing of what and where and how, the few precious seconds of vision into the future, giving him just enough advantage.

The siren blares over the stadium, and mayhem ensues. He recognizes some of the people who charge him. There is the Baku-squad, as they labeled themselves. An explosion echoes in the distance, mirrored by a crack of ice. Turns out that all the major point scorers are game, even Shoucchan in his fortress of solitude.

Boar.Tiger.Ram.Tiger. Fire Style: Flame Wall. Izuku weaves the seals quickly, feeling the inside of his chest grow hot with flame, before spewing a cone of it out in a large wall, to cover his back. In the mean time Ashido gets to him, she makes a swipe for the headband, but he quickly vaults over her, grabbing Kaminari by the neck with his legs, and flipping him into Kirishima. Without skipping a beat, he trips some guy made of metal, while folding the Snake seal.

"Earth Style: Mud Wall!", he hollers hitting the earth with his hands. A split second later a handful of attackers are blocked out leaving only a narrow corridor of attack to his front and back, both sides cut of by a wall of fire and mud alike. He gulps as he sees the girl with wines for her hair, and Iida on the opposing ends. Now this is going to be fun.

'Remember son, Taijutsu is the crowning art of combat', his father's words ring in his head, as he narrowly slips past Iida's kick. How did his classmate get so fast?! Just a second ago he was a good few meters away, and he couldn't have shifted gears that quickly! He flips into a handstand hitting Iida straight on the side, and pushing the larger boy against the mud. More students charge now, the flame slowly burning out.

This is way more chaotic than what happened at USJ. Students attack without any planning, a complete unpredictable mayhem, which would be undecipherable to anyone not bearing the gift of his bloodline. Frantically he looks around, as people swarm all around. Before finally looking up.

Without a seconds hesitation he jumps up, using chakra to give himself range, landing on the thick wall. He barely has the time to move, before the segment on which he was standing is toppled by Kirishima punching clean through. But that, that's good, he can get them running in circles. A guy who looks like he is in need of a full body shave jumps onto the narrow wall, and lunges straight at him. Luckily a well aimed kick to the side of the head, sends him sprawling into the madness below.

There is no water here, and creating it would take up a lot of chakra, which he will need. He doesn't want to seriously hurt anyone so lighting and fire are a no go. He is running out of a wall to run on, with Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, the guy is screaming his name, buldozing through what little ground he has left behind him, when an idea comes to mind. Perhaps Elsa was right all along...

Untangling his fingers Izuku jumps high into the air, landing nimbly in the center of chaos which parts around him like the Red Sea before Moses.

"Let it go" he breathes raising his guard, "COME AND GET IT!" he hollers before the bright future of this world descends upon him.

***

Excited. No that's not a word strong enough. Exhilarated, that's what the part time gardener was. Kamui Woods has finally signed his collectors card, the crown jewel of all the hero's merchandise he collected. In his great celebration, as the hero slinks away, the dark haired man's eyes fall on the large monitors sitting in front of the entrance to the stadium. A short green haired boy clasps his hands together in something all too familiar and very much out of place, before belching a column of fire out at the oncoming students, who dive away like scared rabbits.

"DID YOU SEE THAT?! THE FIRE OF THE UCHIHA CLAN--" the gardener fails to hear the rest of the commentary, before he takes of running towards the closest entrance.

***

"Mashi how is your brother doing?", Hitoshi graons, as they crawl onto another ledge where most likely Todoroki is still not sitting. Even with the wall walking they trained it's not quite the same when everything is dripping wet, forcing him to half grapple half crawl up the wall together with his tailed crush, who by the way is doing much better due to his natural monkey instincts.

"Don't call me Mashi!" the blond snaps, and cranes his neck "I'd say he has got it under control", he answers just as a student with splendidly purple and round hair is flung about twenty meters into the air, traveling at a beautiful trajectory. Now as far as Hitoshi is aware control is a very loose term when it comes to Uchihas. It usually lies somewhere between 'I don't give a f*ck' and 'don't make me give a f*ck', currently it's just a question of which Izuku is nearer to. However knowing the little rascal he is most likely currently sending the devil packing. Hitoshi grunts hauling his weight up onto another ledge. What did that mismatched bastard take an engineering course or something? How did he even get a full fledged ice fortress standing?! That requires some planning and skill, not to mention some pretty damn good architecture.

Unknowingly Hitoshi is right about one thing. About thirty meters below and fifty meters away Izuku Uchiha is currently split kicking Monoma Neito and Kaminari Denki, while providing a fiery deterrent for anyone dumb enough to try and come within ten meters of him.

"AND LADIES AND GENTELMAN LOOK AT HIM FIGHT!", Present Mic crows from the commentary booth, probably providing uncle Aizawa with a royal headache. "WHAT? TAKE CARE OF SOMETHING?! NOW?!", Mic bellows before sounds of minor scuffle followed by overjoyed yelps of children. What the...?

"DID YOU SEE THAT HE WENT LIKE BWAAAAH! AND WHOOOSH!", a childish voice yells into the microphone.

"Shoyou?!", Mashi yelps as they finally roll onto the highest ledge. The camera broadcasting fights onto various screens panned to a view of the commentary booth, where a small orange haired kid, climbed onto uncle's lap and watched the fights play out with eyes as round as saucers.

"GAMBATE MASHI-OONICHAN!", the hollers as both of them look at Todoroki, who's right is already frosted over. The guy is shivering like a leaf, his lips half blue. That ice castle must have really taken quite a bit out of him. Huh, so he is not as invincible as everyone thought. A smug smile stretches Hitoshi's lips, as he rubs at the back of his neck ignoring the verbal spew of praise which turns Mashirao into a flustered mess. He feels sort of envious, but he can watch the blond blush and squirm under the river of compliments after he deals with this. He gives the half and half bastard a lazy wave to draw his attention.

"Hello there", Hitoshi smirks catching a pair of mismatched eyes. His grin from there on only grows brighter, and possibly a little demonic.

***

"Yacchan for the last time, can you stop squirming?" the painter asked, peeking out from over his canvas, and making the girl giggle. What exactly was so funny? He frowned at her, trying to glare, but the look held no bite. Maybe because the girl who could create paint from her body kept on telling him that he doesn't have a bad bone in him, which always softened him up.

"The festival is today!" the young woman chirped, almost vibrating. The art student sighed. It was the twentieth or maybe the two hundredth time he heard that in the last few hours and he was starting to have enough. He was about to snap a response, but a single look at her made him shut up and reconsider. For a moment he kept his eyes trained on the black haired girl, pretending to focus on some detail in her eyes, possibly the stars somebody placed there. The student promptly squirmed at the hideous pick up line. Besides he was getting much too old for this!

"I am very much aware" he smiled at her so widely his eyes crinkled. The girl sitting on the stool stopped fidgeting for just a moment, a little struck by the look of the boy in front of her, by the spiky, jet black hair, wide smile, and the honest eyes, currently hidden from her sight. She blinked a couple of times, before sitting perfectly still, trying to imagine the boy hidden behind the canvas, his diligent, strong yet gentle mixing of paints, bold, fierce strokes, how even from complete chaos he weaved the most delicate of themes and shapes. It was their final year, and she yearned for their little adventure to continue. The man sitting across from her was quirkless, and she was very much aware of that, but he had a golden heart, seeing good everywhere he went, and filling his paintings with that wonder. Sometimes that wonder did come of a little strong, and on occasion he got into a couple of fights, still for an artist he was a very decent guy, if only he would have a more decent nickname... 'The Demon' was a bit much to stomach for any decent family. The man smiled brightly at her, his short black spikes were dusted with an occasional spatter of pain. If Yai Yayorouzo remembered correctly one of the professors during their first year made a comment about her friend's painting style. The man had been quite poetic about it. 'It's like watching a swordsman paint with blood', she shuddered at the thought.

"Just a minute more Yacchan I beg you! And I swear I am treating you to a lovely dinner for this!" her friend buzzed, his sparkling, shark white teeth visible in the impossibly large grin.

***

There is something unbelievably refreshing about hand to hand fighting. Sure it might get difficult especially when Momo chucked a flash grenade his way, or when in an act of pure desperation Mineta tried body slamming him only to be punted away like a perverted football. It gets especially weird when Kirishima who somehow managed to catch him off guard didn't take his headband after toppling him to the ground, but instead turned as red as his hair, and started mumbling something. Luckily that didn't last long because some guy with spiky brown hair pried him away, only to receive a sandaled foot to the face, which resulted in a broken nose. Izuku was very certain he knows how

Still Izuku can't say he doesn't enjoy it, even if his knuckles are starting to hurt. Most of the attackers have gotten worn out, opting to select 'softer targets', which don't require a payment of having a shoe stuck up your ass if you try getting more aggressive. However this idyllic moment of halfway victory can't last forever. Izuku was panting, half kneeling on the ground, when he saw black out of the corner of his eye. Without thinking he rolls away, dodging a raven shaped shadow by a hair. He spun around, only for a pair of tazzer darts to zip right past him. This was not good. Somehow a group of students had managed to creep up on him.

A crackle of lighting behind him told him that something was definitely off. Momo, Tokoyami and Denki were approaching him from all around, probably having waited out their time after the initial assault.

"Smart" the boy huffed under his breath, as he eyed the assailants. But he isn't going to get taken down by a motley crew. He was trained by his dad, and damn him if he is to soil his family's name. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and cracked his fingers before raising his guard. The fractals in the air were dissolving signifying a well timed, thorough attack with no points of escape. He felt cold sweat break out on the back of his neck as tumult raged in the background, to the symphony of ice cracking and nitro powered explosions raging.

All three of them readied to strike, when Izuku looked up and did the only sensible thing he could do do, which coincidentally was witnessed by a certain long haired man leaning on the barriers dangerously.

Snake, "Wood Release: Tree of Life!", the green haired yelled, hearing the crackling of lighting as a thick trunk shot up into the sky carrying him with it on the way. If he had been a second late he would have been toast. But now, being almost fifty meters in the air. He is in no less way safe. Izuku's eyes bulge out as he looks at the scoreboard, Todoroki now falling to the bottom with 0 points. Apparently Hitoshi and big brother had actually gotten to him. They bulge even more when he sees Iida Tenya sprinting up the motherf*cking bark like a blue colored torpedo fueled by honor and lawfulness, hollering something about making his family proud. Iida must have completely lost his marbles. Worse yet, before Izuku can do much about it his tall friend has already caught him by the leg, but unable to stop pulled them both clean off of the tree and straight up.

They struggle mid air, until he feels the acceleration weaken, leaving them hanging for just a horrifying split second, during which he hears a single word leave Tenya's lips.

"f*ck"

Izuku gasps, as Tenya gives him a pained look, before returning to clawing at the damned headband. A single thought apart from 'we are going to splat on the ground and I haven't even had my first kiss yet' flashes through his mind. 'If I don't knock him out, he will get the band', with that in mind Izuku locks eyes with the class prez.

'Sharingan. Sleep!', he shouts in his head activating the technique. Iida's body becomes limp instantly, however that doesn't solve the problem of hurtling to earth at break neck speed now. There isn't really much room for thought. Folding the Bird seal Izuku pushes his chakra, forming a thick gooey ball of mucus and coating the two of them in it. In a second they are covered, and he presses his lips to Tenya's making sure the other boy doesn't choke on the slime. It lasts precisely one second, before the gelatinous ball hits the earth, splattering in every direction and throwing him almost out of bounds.

"Much, much too close", he gasps, wiping his mouth, and tasting red. Huh, Tenya's teeth must have cut him on the way down. Still now he is standing with his back to the out of bounds line, and the few remaining students are swarming in on him like hungry vultures again. "Summing it up. I just had my first kiss, lost my dignity, and am about to have to fight another insane battle" he mutters summing up his recent encounter, as his muscles scream in pain. Going at it alone was an insane idea, he is willing to tell Mashirao he was right if that meant his monkey brother would swoop in to save him now.

"TWO MINUTES LEFT!" a calm childish voice echoed through the stadium, probably another of Mashi's little crows having won the the battle for the microphone. The commentary falls into background as he wracks his brain for any solution out of this mammoth pile of sh*t, he had willingly dived head first into. What was the thing dad repeated last night? Teamwork...? Possibly, Izuku right now is too tired to consider what his father said. The man in question is currently clutching at the rails so hard they threaten snapping under his grip, grinding his teeth so violently that they threaten to throw sparks.

"f*ck", Izuku curses and the few classmates surrounding him gasp. Well, seems like he is in a pinch now, no weapons, none of the more damaging techniques. And he certainly doesn't want to use too much chakra, which he already spent rather generously. "You asked for it!," he bellows, catching a wobbly stance. His legs feel heavy after almost fifteen minutes of constant fighting. Even if he has chakra to lessen the load he feels beat and drained. The students rush in again. f*ck it, Izuku concludes, it's time for the trump card. He folds his hands into a single seal. "Wood Release: Wood Clones!", Izuku bellows feeling his skin melt, and consciousness multiply. It's always a little uncomfortable, but not painful. The students pile on top of him, threatening to crush him with the sheer weight. The stadium falls quiet, as the commentary rages from the speakers. A hand tries grabbing his headband, and without thinking Izuku bites it until he tastes blood. And suddenly the place where he was standing erupts, as five carbon copies of the little Uchiha burst out, tackling the attackers to the ground, and turning the tide of battle.

"LADIES AND GENTELMAN! I AM SPEECHLESS!", Present Mic crows, as Izuku smirks, counting down the seconds.

***

"Holy sh*t that was rough," Katsuki grumbles under his breath. His forearms feel... well, they are attached, but he doesn't feel them one bit, they are just there along for the ride. Hitoshi is half asleep on Mashirao's back, after whatever the f*ck these two pulled atop Mt. Frozen Ass. The monkey boy is carrying the zombie so gingerly Katsuki would have liked to make a snide comment if he only wasn't so f*cking exhausted. Apparently there was a major fight up there, as the duo was escaping from some crazy ass chick from Support Department and Round Face. Izuku is for some reason, as chipper as a spring morning, and it drives Katsuki up the wall with how cute the guy is while covered in dirt, burns, ooze, and bleeding from a busted lip. He really wants to get his hands on whomever broke his angel's face, if only to turn them into Japan's space program. How did he get it by the way? They are about to make it to Recovery Girl's little office, when a strange guy waltzes over to his precious treasure.

"Hello there", he smiles brightly, way too brightly for Katsuki not to feel alarmed and protective of his oblivious boy. It's always the same thing, Izuku gets tangled into helping homeless kittens, or three legged puppies or feeding the poor, or whatever and Katsuki gets roped into it with his heart pierced by the shrapnel of cute. So every time someone is about to ask for help Katsuki does his best to run interference, before actually letting the people talk.

Unfortunately this time Izuku is faster.

"Hell Sir. How may I help you?" The boy spins on his heel, and Katsuki groans. At least the monkey and the zombie keep walking. The former undoubtedly worried about the latter, the latter undoubtedly faking his exhaustion, judging by the sneaky smile and the way he nuzzles into the monkey's neck. Now that Katsuki can get a better look at the guy he notices the abhorrent amount of Kamui Woods merchandise the man is wearing, and one of the rare backstage passes dangling around his neck.

"You have an excellent quirk young man-", the man pipes up with a huge smile. Oh great, another pitch about becoming heroes, probably some obscure wannabe looking for naive students to drag down with himself.

"Yeah, cut the crap old man", the blond grumbles only to earn a scornful look from his most treasured future boyfriend. He huffs under his breath, and tries folding his hands across his chest, only that the appendages chose not to cooperate.

"Oh, sorry, sorry. You guys must be really tired" the man's mood does a one eighty in a second, skipping anything between cheerful and sad to straight up depressed. Now that's a shift that can scare even Katsuki, and he is used to moody people, take his mother for instance, she is straight up bat sh*t crazy.

"Don't worry about my friend. He is just tired and grumpy. How can we help?" Izuku buzzes, smiling with a force of a small star, and of course roping him into whatever is about to transpire, by grabbing his wrist, when Katsuki tries to escape. The man's attitude does another flip. Katuski tries to escape but a rock hard grip is holding him in place.

"Oh, no, no, I just wanted an autograph. I think you will be my favorite hero from now on", the man smiles apologetically holding out a piece of paper.

*

Izuku wasn't really sure how to feel. He certainly felt awesome. An autograph, from him! His chest swelled with pride as he grabbed the paper, and scribbled his name on it. It came out wobbly and not very professional, given he hadn't practiced it at all, and his arms felt like they were filled with mercury after that battle royale that just finished. The man smiled down at the piece of paper and was about to walk away when an idea popped into Izuku's head.

"Mr would you mind taking a photo of us?" he asked, noticing the old school polaroid camera dangling the man's neck. In the modern age it was quite a rarity to see someone carrying something like this. Perhaps this man is some sort of a hipster, then again, if he was would he have all of this Kamui Wood stuff hanging from him like from a christmas tree?

That's how he ended up signing one more picture of himself, holding up a small peace sign, and taking another one with him back to the locker rooms. The photo would have depicted a tanned man, with long hair, and a bright smile, plain looking, but handsome, with dark eyes that crinkled with laughter. One heavily pissed off and heavily blushing Katsuki, who's cheek was smooshed against Izuku throwing up another peace sign. Unfortunately only two of them fit, still Izuku was proud of it, even if the souvenir was botched a little, having left out his first fan. He exchanged a few words with the curious stranger. The man in particular seemed interested in his father, and Izuku answered with a shrug that it was Madara Uchiha, who goes by Hokage. Something flashed across the stranger's face at the mention of the name, but Izuku couldn't place it. In return he also got a coupon to a small cafe in Hosu, with best wishes for him and his dad.

***

"Recovery Girl I need a body bag" Mashirao said stone faced, staring the old lady in the eye, as Hitoshi groaned into his neck. "Now" he added, as the purple haired boy nuzzled him fondly babbling something, large hands draped over his shoulders.

The nurse giggled, before answering, "You can set your boyfriend down on that bed"

Mashirao's eyelid twitched "I am not gay" he deadpanned, carrying the purple haired piece of trash that disrupted his life at every turn and then gently setting him down on the bed. For a brief moment he considered just dumping the guy on the floor, but when he turned and saw Hitoshi passed out like that he felt a weird pang of shame in his heart. Recovery Girl gave him a weird look, which he dutifully ignored.

"Thank you for your help. Please take care of him" he muttered, walking out of the office. He wanted to look for Hagakure after all this mess.

***

"YAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOO!" Madara crowed in a rare show of unbridled enthusiasm. His three students managed to hold out at the top of the board. That however didn't solve one thing the flash of chakra north of here. Correction the flash of a very familiar chakra which by all rights has no right to be here. Torn between celebrating and catching the first train north to track down the signature which has already vanished he swooped little Shoyou into the air and spun him around, the kid screaming gleefully before being plucked from his hands by an exhausted Aizawa sporting a death glare.

In the end Yayorouzo managed to steal another headband, leaving three teams to pass into the final round. Of course Endeavor had nearly ground his teeth down to his gums, which left Madara extremely overjoyed, and giddy in a way Aizawa said is unbecoming of a hero. Katsuki having put on a display worthy of 4th of July manage to scrape by in second place. The shinobi bolted from his spot, to congratulate his students, only he wasn't exactly sure where to direct his steps, nurse's office? Student's waiting area? A strangely familiar smell of a forest passed by, but before he could even dwell on it it was gone. Instead he was almost tackled to the ground, as his green haired son launched at him with loud holler of joy.

Chapter 23: First Fights

Chapter Text

Amongst the many things that that Hashirama expected to see was certainly not Uchiha openly displaying affection. Sure they had their own in house brooding type, who's razor sharp wit was a frequent source of problems, but this was different. Peeking around the corner, he couldn't tare his eyes away from the grin on his long lost friend's face, as he pulled another boy down to the ground forming a small pile. This one didn't look one bit like an Uchiha, but he wore the same badge little Izuku was carrying, the symbol of Konohagakure. For a split second the gardener considered revealing his presence, despite his brother's stern prohibition of relaying this information to anyone. He didn't fail to notice the lines around his friend's eyes though. Madara has gotten much older, and judging by Izuku's joyous yell he must have been here quite a while now. He smiled to himself, turning around, and heading for the stands. Just as a precaution he stopped at the nearest stand and bought a full face mask, of Kamui Woods of course. He would be in for a world of hurt if Tobirama recognized him in the stands.

***

"My, my, aren't you soaked" the bartender drawled, as he set down a mug of coffee on the counter. His eyes trailed up and down the drenched costume Ingenium was wearing. The hero's wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and he was wearing a very pained look, almost as if he had just died. White dressing was peeking out from beneath a small tare on his shoulder. Which to someone uninvolved in the situation could lend a clue as to what put the Turbo Hero Ingenium into such a sour mood. As for Tobirama Senju, he was well aware of what transpired, and an impeccable poker face for once came in handy.

"Funny" the hero muttered and sat down on one of the stools heavily, before resting his forehead the counter. He looked exhausted, for a moment Tobirama was ready to pity the man, but then he reconsidered. It shouldn't have been the first time the hero could have died, then again that didn't explain why he felt that if Tensei disappeared from his life he would lose something he grew at least a little attached to.

"Coffee?" the bartender asked, moving the paper cup to rest in front of his soaked knight. Admittedly the man was wearing a white suit of armor. Though Tobirama would chew out anyone who dared call him a princess.

"Vodka?" Ingenium wheezed, not bothering to look up. He was taking it far worse than expected. Then again, could it be that despite such a grand age he faced true death for the first time. Tobirama recalled in this real people lived longer, sometimes even over a century. Back home if you lived to see your grandkids you were considered ancient, and usually quite powerful if you have survived that long. So maybe, this was the case with Tensei, maybe he was sort of like a Chunin, not a Jonin or Anbu operative Tobirama pegged him for. He hummed noncommittally trying to digest this revelation. Meanwhile Tensei groaned loudly, as though he was in terrible pain, his honor probably was, the rest of him not so much.

The bartender rolled his eyes, "We don't serve that here" he replied tersely. Wasn't endangering one's life in the job description for a hero? Why was that man behaving like such a baby?

"Please" Ingenium groaned, and fixed the silver haired barkeep with the most pleading case of puppy dog eyes in the history of puppy dog eyes. For a moment they stared at one another and if the barkeep's eyes flicked to look at his future date's thin lips neither of them mentioned it. However finally he gave in. In quick movements he grabbed the coffee hiding it behind the counter, and fished out a small flask of whiskey their fourth house mate liked to sip late in the evenings. He poured a little bit of the gold liquid in, before looking back at Tensei. The man was a wreck. He added a more generous amount in and passed the cup back. After that little encounter he really wasn't all that shaken up, after all it was just a bloodthirsty villain, nothing too out of the ordinary.

Then man in front of him latched onto the mug with hardly hidden enthusiasm, the scalding liquid trickling down his throat and spreading warmth through his chest. The bartender's lips twitched. "What happened?" he asked finally, just for the sake of keeping up a front. He wasn't scared, but the fact that he barely made it in time shook him to a certain extent he didn't want to show, the only hint being a slight tremor of his hand. Tensei squirmed in his seat, one of his hands balling up into a fist and resting on the counter. He seemed to ponder his words for a few minutes, but the silver haired man's eyes weren't looking at him as much as at that hand. There was a weird idea rummaging around in his skull, something along the lines of gently massaging that huge palm, and lacing his fingers with the other man's. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, as he mentally snaked through various possibilities.

"We were after Stain and he almost got me" Tensei choked out. Cedar eyes flashed to meet navy ones, with the lie blatantly written all over them. The bartender huffed, and looked away, the thought still dancing in his mind as he clenched an unclenched his own hand working up the courage. Back home it was... rare and frowned up even and it was the main reason why he never took a wife. Even if the common joke was that he was just too in love with his science, even if he was Hokage he never had the courage to actually come out. Truth be told, he probably wouldn't have any science if his 'preferences' came out, but here... He hesitated once again before finally gritting his teeth, and covering the hero's hand with his own, and running his thumb over the coarse material of the tactical glove. In the solitude of the early afternoon cafe he felt braver, and irritated with himself at the same time. A lump grew in his throat when he realized just how completely out of his element in that moment he is. Back home emotions never came into play, there wasn't space enough for them at least not for him, because being honest, someone had to keep things running smoothly. But here... He stared at his own rough palm, covered in old, scabbed scars. He hasn't held a kunai in five years, up till today. The realization that he endangered everything they have so carefully built hit him like Hashirama's Wood Release.

"I am glad... you are ok" he managed, feeling his cheeks blaze, and glaring at a very nice bonzai his brother placed by the window. Thick silence fell in the cafe interrupted only by the soft whir of the ceiling fan, and not a moment, he felt rough material of the glove grasp his fingers. Five years... Gods damn it! He was about ready to break a chair, actually brake anything, his rage simmering as he scowled at that stupidly, beautifully pruned tree.

"I never took you for one to get flustered Bartender-san" Tensei laughs. Tobirama realizes he likes Tensei's laugh, which makes him want to punch the jerk, especially for making fun of him. For a moment he actually consider jerking his hand away and slapping the younger man upside the head. If anything he deserves it now. Instead he looks back into those eyes filled with mirth, and takes in the huge, earnest smile. Tensei was glowing, or perhaps that's the closest he could get to describing how the younger man looks. A half formed come back dies on his lips, as he takes in the sight, and before he can do anything Tensei rises from his seat, another gloved hand cupping his cheek. The young man bends over the counter, half pulling the cedar eyed man over it, before their lips pres together in a sloppy kiss. It's thirty two years, he died around forty the first time, a total of forty five years or so of life spans in front of him, and for the first time Tobirama Senju feels a warm pressure in his chest. He licks into the kiss tasting fine whiskey mixed with coffee, and concludes that whatever the locals call cocaine, well this must be it. His hands grasp Ingenium's breast plate, and he promptly drags the hero over the counter, still latched onto him for dear life. Tobirama has kissed men before, quite a few, after all in his line of work few survived long enough to really become a permanent partner on top of all the secrecy he kept. However here... They separated for a breath, his heart trying to rip out of his chest, as he looks at the shorter man's flushed cheeks, a hand runs through his silver spikes. For a moment he considers pulling away, what if someone walked in on them like that. Hell what if one of his flatmates did!

"I almost died today" Tensei whispers, and turns his perfectly rational brain off. He looks back at Tensei, at the thoughtful expression, etched with worry and the unique enlightenment one acquires in the face of death. Before he can stop himself he kisses the man again with fervor he never knew before. Without breaking for air, he starts pushing the hero until they barrel through the door marked Employees Only into a small broom closet. Tensei trips on a broom and lands on his ass, pulling the silver haired shinobi on top of himself, the man releasing a groan of pain when he collides with the armor.

"You don't get to die before you take me on that date" Tobirama attempts to snap at his... well hopefully boyfriend. He has never been on a date, and he god damn deserves one now! "And if you cheat on me I will find you and snap off your co*ck" he supplies just for clarity that this is indeed what he thinks this is, a start of a relationship. Tensei laughs wholeheartedly hugging him to his chest, before stealing another kiss from the struggling Senju. His face is pressed into the crook of the hero's neck and he smells watered down perfume, and sweat. The smell is not unpleasant though. Tensei holds him close hugging him for dear life, and before long something wet touches his cheek. A weak smile spreads across the shinobi's lips, perhaps something good will come off of this second life after all.

***

The four of them end up sitting on the rooftop of the stadium. Izuku is laying flat on his back, soaking in the sun, Mashirao is resting against the barriers with legs draped over the edge, watching Hagakure cheer way down below, and sighing lovingly from time to time. Meanwhile Hitoshi is hiding in the shadow, hissing at the sun whenever it gets too close, and scowling at his crush. The first round pairings have been announced, and for the most part Madara doesn't think there will be an issue, apart from Mashirao's fight. The boy is paired against Todoroki, a boy who's quirk could probably best a good number of Shinobi, let alone someone who can't even walk up a wall yet. On top of that there is Endeavor whom Madara really, really wants to see in shackles, or rather dead, but he would take what he can get. Madara and Tobirama might not have gotten along splendidly but the second hokage was right in one aspect, children are children and deserve safety until they are ready to fight like adults. The hero got up and strolled over to where his adopted son was sitting, the boy's bare feet dangling in the air. The tail hung over his shoulder, as he watched the displays below intently. It wasn't hard to figure out which invisible future heroine his eyes were following. Madara smiled to himself, as he sat down, falling in love sure felt nice, if a little shocking. Perhaps if he was to describe it, he would simply give someone a concussive tag to the face. In his opinion that was an ample demonstration. However just before a fight, having your head in the clouds was not necessarily a good thing. There was about half an hour left till the first fight: Hitoshi vs Kirishima. He wasn't particularly worried about that one. The toothy red head would easily fall into the genjutsu expert's traps, and that would end the fight swiftly. However Todoroki as an opponent was a whole other cookie. He was trained, and in some way he was broken, perhaps even beyond repair. Madara's jaw tightens as he remembers the hatred in those eyes when the mismatched orbs fell on Endeavor.

"Got a strategy for your fight yet?" he queries, following Hagakure's nimble flip. The girl though invisible seems to have excellent awareness of her surroundings. For a moment Madara wonders if perhaps she can see herself, but he stamped the thought. There were more important things at hand. His armor clinked a couple of times as he shifted around making himself comfortable. He really could go for a more modern look, but somehow he likes that all the fans in the corridors keep calling him samurai-san. Perhaps it is deeply rooted nostalgia of his, or maybe he just can't let that little bit of his past go.

The blond nods, eyes still trained on Hagakure as she flips through the air. "Get in close. He doesn't use his left side, and then punch him out" Mashirao mutters. It sounded carefree, but Madara senses the edge in the young man's voice. No wonder, as Tailman he hadn't faced foes with quirks as powerful as Todoroki's. For a moment Madara considers whether it is at all possible to beat the other boy using solely taijutsu. And then he remembers a certain way over the top, bushy browed, handsome beast which nearly ripped him in half with a single kick. Conclusion, defeating Todoroki with just taijutsu, very doable, thought might require a little extremity.

"Are you worried Mashirao?" he asks quietly, and out of the corner of his eye he sees the boy give the faintest nod. He catches Izuku sitting by Hitoshi, the two of them whispering something intently, and looking over at the two of them every once in a while. Whatever his son is up to this time, he is pretty certain right now there are bigger fish to fry.

"He is strong. Stronger than I am, and I don't want to disappoint you" the blond answers with surprising honesty, drawing the hero's attention once again. Madara's eyebrows shoot up, but he is quick to regain his composure. A long time ago he would have thrown some 'wise words' about the strong stomping on the weak. But now he is better than that. He drapes his arm over Mashirao's shoulder and pulls the boy close, until they are sitting side by side. He feels his son's brown eyes on him, and catches them with his own.

"Whatever happens down there I will not be disappointed. I will be proud of you because you are already becoming a splendid hero" he whispers. Mashirao flinches as though the words touched him physically. But Madara meant it, he knows the scars on his son's knuckles and others not visible from underneath the school uniform. He reaches over the boy, pulling the headband free from his arm. "I am proud that you are wearing this" he adds, before tying it on Mashirao's head, the golden hair flopping over the front to cover part of the leaf. Throughout the entirety of their talk neither noticed the purple eyes glued to Mashirao's back, and the slight frown of worry etched into Hitoshi's brow. No one save for a green haired boy who's eyes lit up with sudden understanding.

***

"AND NOW LADIES AND GENTELMAN THE MANLY STUDENT WITH MUSCLES OF STEEL KIRISHIMA EIJIRO!" Present Mic roared much too loudly for Hitoshi's taste. It was also much too bright. He couldn't get used to the weird shoes with open toes, his head pulsed, and Mashirao Uchiha still hadn't fallen in love with him! All in all he could say that this day was a strong 5/10 or a -5 if he was to take into account the fact that he just got sleepy when he was shoved down to the waiting room and then manhandled out into the ring by the entirety of the Uchiha clan. He really didn't complain that one member of the clan did some of the handling. A heavy sigh escaped Hitoshi as his eyes trailed over the stands, trying to spot his parents but with so many people watching it was a lost cause. Why Madara-san wanted to talk to them he had no clue he was too tired to ask. The minds of the Uchiha worked in ways so devious even he failed to comprehend what twisted gears spun in their heads.

"AND IN THE OTHER CORNER A STUDENT OF THE GENERAL DEPARTMENT HITOSHI SHINSOU!" Present Mic crows making the feeling of desire for a quick death in Hitoshi's head intensify. At least it was Kirishima, loud, boisterous, much too happy. He watched the red head flex for the crowds which sounded mid way to org*sm. Then again Kirishima sported a very nice pack of muscles, though not half as nice, as a certain blond. 'All right Hitoshi! Focus!' He chastised himself mentally, and stepped up the cement steps to face his opponent.

"Please, please just let it start" he mutters tiredly, running a hand over his face. They met in the center, and he watched Kirishima nod along like an excited puppy to Midnight's instructions. No kicking in the balls, no foul play. Match ends when one is immobilized, all the standard hoolabaloo of the good'ol art of pugilism. The guy in front of him was falling for Izuku, at least that's what he claimed. He was buff, especially for a fifteen year old. He had a very cheerful and friendly disposition which, the insomniac supposed, would be a good fit for his friend. On top of that he seemed loyal and driven. A much better pick than either Blasty or Icy. How would he call Kirishima? Hardy? He nodded when Midnight asked him about something and then they stepped back, until there was just a few meters left between his back and the out of bounds line. Truth be told he had this fight figured out all along. It took just looking at Kirishima to know how he will fight. What he was worrying about over their break was Mashi. Going up against Icy will be a problem, one he couldn't figure out how to solve, especially not through brute force which seemed to be his crush's forte.

"FIGHT!" the heroine yells, forcing a pair of bloodshot eyes back at Kirishima.

In an instant the redhead charged, a battle cry fresh on his lips. Something about manliness and honor, at least that's what Hitoshi caught. The attack was well timed, he just made a simple mistake, he looked into Hitoshi's purple eyes. The insomniac raised his hand in a half seal, and released his chakra, gently prodding at a surprisingly pliant brain. Kirishima still yelled and ran, only he changed the trajectory slightly. So slightly in fact he ran right past Hitoshi, chasing an imaginary image, which ran straight towards the end of the field. The real one sighed as he nudged the brain just a little bit more, and his hardened competitor tripped on his own feet, earning a mouthful of cement and sliding out of bounds.

"Well that was anticlimactic" he mutters, turning to Midnight and giving her a short bow. The stadium was eerily quiet, well almost. There was a maniacal, deranged even, laughter carrying over the silence, one that was all too familiar. "Well at least someone is entertained" he groaned, stepping over the end line. He crouched down to look at Kirishima, before tapping him gently and releasing the genjutsu. The redhead shot up like a cork out of a champagne bottle, looking frantically around, until he found himself face to face with Hitoshi.

"What happened?" Kirishima asks, his huge red eyes fixing Hitoshi with a pleading look. Well, the guy really was like a puppy, maybe he could actually fit Izuku.

"You tripped, fell, rolled out of bounds and hit your thick skull" Hitoshi lies with a smug smirk, watching Kirishima's puzzled brain try and figure the absurd situation out. "Maybe next year" he adds almost as an afterthought, and taps the redhead's shoulder, before getting to his feet, and marching back towards the cool shade. He hadn't really woken up so maybe he can still catch a nap. Though it would be very rude not to watch Mashirao's match. Deep in thought he almost misses the warmth that spread through his chest, when finally the stadium roars to life with cheer over the boy that came seemingly from nowhere.

***

"WOOOOHOOO!" Izuku hollers at the top of his lungs grabbing Kacchan and spinning the taller boy around, as the latter spews profanities and threats. He is overjoyed that Hitoshi won, showing all those people doubting him just how much he is worth. He let go of his childhood friend, the boy stumbling upon being set down only when the man of the hour showed up in the stands. The pint sized shinobi launched himself straight at Hitoshi, who caught him in an embrace, while stumbling back. The shorter boy could easily feel the hammering of Hitoshi's heart despite the fact that the boy seemed unaffected by the fight whatsoever. To his luck he was fighting last that meant he would get to watch everyone and hopefully assess their strengths and weaknesses before his own fight.

The next fight was to start any minute now, and before Hitoshi could do much more than pat the smaller boy on the head Izuku darted off to watch with bated breath, as Dark Shadow fought against pure creation. Just how Izuku managed to squeeze him in next to an almost depressed looking Mashirao he doesn't know, but there is a gleam in these green eyes. One which spells disaster.

***

A little further north Yachi Yayorouzo is sitting, snuggled against her best friend and maybe someday boyfriend, if Zacchan can get his head out of his canvas and his ass finally. Each of them is nursing a light beer, the man's muscular legs are propped up on the coffee table, as they watch what looked like a set up fight on the screen. In the beginning Zacchan was relaxed, but then the purple haired boy did this strange gesture with his hand and her black haired friend tensed. Not a moment later the fight ended, and Zacchan disappeared to the kitchen to fix a bowl of popcorn. Of course Yachi, being the curious young woman she was chose to spy on her future boyfriend, and 'accidentally' overheard the man making a phone call.

"Of all times Tobirama isn't picking up it's the one time I need him" her sharp toothed friend growls before slamming the microwave doors with a little more force than necessary. If she recalls correctly Tobirama is Zacchan's uncle, a rather stoic man with fierce eyes, and temper to match that of a hell hound.

"What's wrong Zabu-chan?" she asks peering over the door frame. Her eyes traveling up and down her friend. Today he is wearing a black tank top, her favorite, it highlights his strong arms. Of course Yachi knows that Zabu works out, religiously even, and holds regular contests of strength with other gym patrons. Perhaps that is the reason, why despite his sometimes brusque personality, which does a complete one eighty when he is with her, he only engaged in a couple of fights. Thinking about it, Yachi still remembers that one time when a bunch of thugs bothered Momo, who mentioned it during a family dinner, it so happened that it was the first time she brought her friend home. Needles to say the maggots came to their front doors, begging for forgiveness the next evening, with Zabu holding them by the back of their shirts. That act alone earned Zacchan her parents' trust, and kept them happy despite the brawls her future boyfriend got himself into.

"Nothing" the man answers with a deadly scowl aimed at the microwave, as though it had personally done him some affront. His large hands are balled into fists, and a pout graces his thin lips. All in all he looks like a muscled, paint splattered, rebellious teenager, who's computer privileges have just been revoked.

Yachi can't help but giggle at the sight. Zabu is a terrible liar, and he certainly is bothered by something, most likely the fact that he forgot a tiny important detail about today. Yachi strolled into the kitchen, and hoisted herself onto the counter, right next to her paint splattered friend. She would have felt disappointed in him, if not for the fact that Zacchan never, ever forgot about her special day.

"You forgot?" she queries with a smile, earning Zacchan's attention. The man fumbles for moment, before turning away to glare at a very impressive matrioshka salt shaker.

Finally he huffs under his breath, "As though I could forget something so important" he replies with a smile that was just a little stiff. Perhaps something else is bothering him. Maybe a stomach ache? Yachi remembers Zabu has some issues with a couple of food groups. Maybe they got his lunch order wrong. Nuts, lactose, and sweets, none of them really sat well with her friend. But her worry quickly melted away, when a wicked idea popped into her head. She fluttered her lashes at the man innocently, and watched caution grace her friend's face.

"I know that look" Zabu says with caution. Of course he does, it's the same look which got him dragged to a club, when they were both barely eighteen and drunk off their asses. Luckily her parents never found out, or daddy would chew Zabu out. It was also the same look which got Zabu into the art program. He was suspended from his rugby club, and the arts club model got sick, so Yachi dragged him to pose for the art class that day. Needless to say she did that because she saw her friend changing once. As they say, he came for a while, he stayed forever, and broke far more hearts than most considered humane. Of course she too had to chase away a bunch of girls that tried to confess to him, especially after she was working so hard to get him to fall in love with her. And right now she had another brilliant idea, a crowning jewel to all her struggles against the density of her friend's mind. She leaned forward, until their faces were barely inches apart.

"I know what present I want to get" she purrs and watched Zabu twitch, before his pale cheeks flushed bright pink.

"Present?" the boy yelps, but before he could back out, her hand caressed the side of his face, running over the bristle of his stubble. Zabu looked about ready to spontaneously combust.

"Yes Zacchan. I want a kiss" she whispers, and the boy seems prepared to have an aneurysm. Maybe something is off? Maybe the famous Momochi Zabuza, mighty wielder of paints and brushes, owner of body which looked like Michael Angelo's wet dream is gay or something. It did cross her mind a couple of times, maybe... that friend of his with sleek black hair is actually more than just a friend...

Her thoughts cut off when Zacchan answers quietly, "I never kissed anyone" he is looking away from her, as though the admission alone is making him ashamed. He never kissed anyone... the words process slowly. This hunk, this guy which on a scale of ten is an eleven with the temper of a shark never kissed anyone. Without thinking Yachi Yayorouzo leans in and plants a soft chaste kiss on unexpectedly rough lips. She withdraws as quickly as she stole her friend's mouth, and watches the tall man turn bright red, before covering his lips with his hand.

"Was it bad?" she asks a little worried, drawing these dark eyes back to her, she fell for them almost five years back.

There is a moment of thick silence before Zabuza shakes his head, and the hand drops back onto the counter. The man bites his bottom lip, and then the microwave dings reminding them that they have a very important match to watch, and bursting their little bubble. Yachi is about to jump off the counter and busy herself with the popcorn, ready to prepare this whole thing never took place. An unwelcome pressure settles in her heart. Hash she just screwed up their relationship? She side steps her friend when the man finally wakes up from his trance.

"Please go out with me!" he yells so loudly she almost drops the bowl she just pulled out from the cupboard. Large hands grip her shoulders, and eyes filled with fire stare into her own, spreading a dopey smile across her face, when finally everything falls into place.

***

Madara watched the fight from the stands. Little Suga was sitting on his shoulders, small hands parting his spiky hair down the middle so that the boy could actually see the show below. Of all the little crows the hero was willing to say that Suga and Daichi were the least problematic. Their step father was standing next to him making sure Daichi wouldn't fall over the railing. Down below Yayorouzo Momo mounted a desperate defense against the unrelenting force of pure darkness, a beast born forth from it's feathery, edgy host. His eyes narrowed, as he watched Dark Shadow dart, and push the princess of Yayorouzo Industries further back. In the past he has had his share of dealing with this particular family. Then again he had connections with almost all notable bloodlines in Japan. They once hired him to solve an issue with Momo. If he remembered correctly, and he does, because Madara Uchiha doesn't forget, though he occasionally forgives, a bunch of teens harassed the little girl. It was a few years back. He recalled tailing the girl from school, and noting a few suspicious hoodlums. But they got beat up by some other highschooler and chalked it up to local delinquent wars. The next day he got a phone call that everything has been resolved, and the pay he was promised.

"Hmmm" he hummed, rubbing his chin. Without a doubt Yayorouzo had gotten stronger since then. In this fight she ought to have an upper hand though, not stay on the defensive. After all she has a stronger quirk, but her moves betray her. A fight is not an algorithm, it's not a series of trial and error approaches. He moves lack decisiveness, the sheer will to fight which has propelled the Uchiha into . She wanted to run this like an algorithm, and Tokoyami didn't give her enough room to do that. Interesting. His eyes narrow, when she finally manages to produce a metal pole. But the next strike pushes her out of bounds ending the fight. Being a TA now he has to take into consideration how best to improve each student, and from that fight he managed to take away two things. Tokoyami Fumikage is already full fledged, as ridiculous as it sounds in regards to the bird head. And Yayorouzo Momo can't use her quirk for sh*t. There was at least a dozen nasty things that Madara could think of doing, even with limitations in regards to size of the object, a shield might have been the first thing to go for, if they lived in Berk. Here a stick of dynamite would have been more than sufficient. Though maybe it wasn't that simple... Madara sighed again, exasperated with his own lack of knowledge. If he is to help these kids he is going to have to brush up on their quirks.

"Your thoughts?" Yagi queries from beside him. He could feel the sunken blue eyes on himself, but didn't look away from the match just yet. Something kept his eyes drawn to the raven boy, his familiar. It had been ages since Madara summoned his own familiars, he doubted they would even come if he asked them to, especially since a whole dimension most likely separated them.

"She needs a little less discipline and despite her quirk, she lacks creativity" he replies, and feels Suga nod on top of his head. He surely likes these two best, much less noisy, though he has a feeling that Aizawa and Yamada are going to try and rip his head off for dumping his kids back on them and almost running straight north, wherever that might lead him. He glanced at the board. The next fight would start in ten minutes. Carefully he set Suga on the ground before walking towards waiting room A, where most likely Mashirao would already be sitting.

***

"You can take him" Hitoshi said impassively, staring down at Mashirao's hands clasped so tightly the scar dusted knuckles turned white. He felt exhausted, after having to stand out in the sun and cheer his head off. It's not like he had all that much reason to do so, except to maybe help Mashi take his mind off of the fact that he was about to face a powerhouse in a meat suit. He didn't envy the guy by any length.

"You are gonna woop his ass!" Hagakure cheered, her pompoms jiggling to highlight the notion of complete and utter badassery that the meditating monkey man was hiding. Neither of the two of course knew everything, Mashirao made his damn best to hide the more gruesome tidbits of his past. The blond frowned down at his hands, his teeth grating. Hitoshi turned to Hagakure the girl, was probably as worried about Mashi as he was. He gave her a faint nod, and for a split second he thought he saw the air shift just if barely, or maybe it was a rustle of fabric, as thought she nodded back. But before he could think better about it, he placed his hand on Mashirao's shoulder, as her gripped the other one.

"Look mate, we believe in you" he said, feeling his cheeks color, when frightened brown eyes caught his own.

"A lot" Hagakure added. Hitoshi made to say something, but before he could, a firm grip on his wrist pulled him towards the door. The invisible girl was leading the way, her pompom waving in the air, "Good luck!" she called, and with a final wave pulled Hitoshi from the room. They found themselves on a deserted corridor.

"Come on, let's get to the stands" she said cheerfully. But that was just a facade, a little shocked the insomniac realized that Hagakure might be just as worried as he is. So he nodded, tucked his hands into his pockets and followed.

"You are worried about him, aren't you?" he asked offhandedly as they were nearing the foot of the stairs. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to keep the blush from showing on the tips of his tears. He wasn't stupid, the question had another meaning, one that he knew she would understand, or at least he hoped. Then again, the same accusation could be pinned on him. Jeez, really these Uchihas, first he fell for one, but compared to how petrified he was by the prospect of Mashi getting hurt he knew that Izuku was a small time crush. What he was feeling this time around was the real deal. And yet he was rejected. His shoulders sagged at the memory, as Hagakure was mulling over the question, or maybe she didn't hear him. He frowned, and opened his mouth to ask again, only to be cut off.

"I am, aren't you?" there was a lilt to her tone, the question that he didn't voice was pointed right back at him. At first Hitoshi stiffened. Had Mashirao told her? No, he wouldn't. Did he do something to tip her off? He ran hastily through his memories, feeling the heat creep up his neck, and sweat break out on his face. His lips pressed together into a thin line. What was he to say to that? The truth? Bogged down by his own thoughts he didn't even notice when they passed his mentor, the man hurrying down as though the devil himself was at his heels. Though if he was more present of mind Hitoshi would have claimed his teacher would be happy to go toe to toe with Satan himself. But right now a whole different matter occupied him.

"I am" he whispered, and froze mid step. He clamped a hand over his mouth, looking back terrified at the invisible girl, who stood with her back resting against the wall. f*ck! Why did he just say that? What's wrong with him?! "Forget it" he spat, turning to jog up the steps, "He is in love with you anyway" he sneers, despite the ball in his throat, and dashes up the steps, taking two at a time. Screw it! Tears were welling up in his eyes. Just before the seats designated for the participants he took a sharp turn heading towards the nearest bathrooms. There he finally said it, now he is going to go and pickle himself in his self-pity. He never expected to bump into a bright eyed, green headed Uchiha though.

***

When Madara entered the waiting room he found his son staring at the table, with his hands clutched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He feared it would happen. Madara faced a stronger opponent only a few times, and yet he knew the fear of defeat, and he knew what losing can do to a man. Silently he stepped over to stand behind his son. Mashirao was mumbling something under his breath, his chakra going completely haywire in the small room. Madara put his hands on the boy's shoulders startling his son out of the mumbling.

"Easy, easy Mashirao" he said airily, rubbing circles into the tense muscles. Silence fell as the seconds ticked by, Mashirao seemed on the verge of words, which he couldn't get past his throat. Five minutes left to the match.

"I can't beat him" the boy said quietly, almost so quietly that Madara wouldn't have heard if he wasn't listening. He huffed a small laugh, but kept on rubbing, as Mashirao spewed meaningless words about Todoroki's quirk, the power that that the guy displayed in the race or the huge ice castle, and how he feels dishonored by the fact that he barely fought in either of them. Finally with barely a minute left to the battle the blond fell silent, his shoulders shaking with a bit back sob.

"My son" Madara spoke softly, and the boy jolted, turning around to look at the man. The hero knelt down, until they were at eye level. "I chose you because you fight with your heart. As long as you stand you can win. As long as you use your head the battle is not over" he encouraged, poking the metal plate covering the boy's forehead with his finger even as Mashirao's lips twisted into thin lines, "We are Uchiha and we do not back down, no matter what the fight is and if we can win or lose. For me either way you have already won" he said with a smile. For a moment he hesitated. Perhaps what he said next was a little reckless, a little stupid even, "A long time ago, back home I once proclaimed a man who lost almost all of his fights as the strongest fighter I have ever battled. His kick nearly tore me in half" he said, and saw Mashirao's eyes grow huge with wonder "Do you know who he reminded me of?"

The boy shook his head in reply and Madara smiled, ruffling his hair gently.

"You, my son" he answered, and watched Mashirao's bottom lip tremble, "So give them hell, and if you are forced remember the ace up your sleeve" he added giving the boy a wink, before helping Mashirao to his feet and pushing the boy out the doors.

***

Mashirao never felt he was good with words, if anything his language could be described as simple. But standing in front of Todoroki now, with the chilly air wafting off of the mismatched teen he felt a sudden influx of adjectives. Todoroki's stare was petrifying, a terrorizing omnipresence of power and brute force, fueled by deep seated hatred for someone, and if he was to be frank it petrified him. Such terror, he has not tasted it yet, even when death was but a hair away, when he fought street thugs. They were after money or some twisted fame. Todoroki had it in for someone on a whole different scale of hate. As Midnight explained the rules Mashirao glanced over his shoulder. There in the darkness of the corridor he saw two glinting lights, like coals smoldering in the fire, his father's Sharingan. He clenched his teeth, and rolled his shoulders, knowing full well that the teacher was nearing the end of explaining the rules. The frost coming off Todoroki was growing in intensity, chilling the air, until his breath materialized as puffs of smoke.

The blond could feel his own chakra going haywire under his skin, even as he tried to force it back under control. Going back to the starting position he threw a look back at where his father stood. Only this time the man was standing much closer, almost out in the open. He gave him a single nod, before turning to face Todoroki.

"FIGHT!" Midnight's voice rolled over the stadium.

In an instant Mashirao ducked, barely missing being trapped by a stampede of ice hurled his way. The blizzard raged right past his ear, as warmth left Todoroki's eyes completely. A memory flashed in front of his eyes, one where a man pressed a knife to his throat. They were fighting, so why did it feel like the mismatched guy had him by the short and curly?! He dived out of the ice's reach, sprinting in a wide arc around Todoroki, circling the left side, and forcing the other to mount an attack from an unfavorable position. What a disgrace! Mashirao tumbled, and rolled, his arms scraping against cement, as he managed to get up for the fifteenth or so time. This whole thing is a farce! Anger suddenly flared up in his heart, as he looked at Todoroki, who despite being crusted over in ice remained impassive. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw his father nod again, and then he took a deep breath, straightening his back. It was time to fight, really fight. He inched his foot forward, and hid his hand behind his back, the other he opened and extended at eye level. He still remembered how he was taught the weird stiff guard. His tail smacked the ground, and for the first time since the fight started he saw that Todoroki's face change. It was a flicker, a passing glimpse into his soul, but it was enough to turn the tables, and Mashirao did just that.

Without waiting a beat he charged straight at his opponent, using his tail to gather more speed. He exhaled on the kick, which crushed the hasty wall Todoroki threw up into icy rubble. And then he saw it, the thing he has been waiting for since the fight started. Disbelief. Mashirao always knew he wasn't the brightest or the strongest, but damn him is he wasn't the most tenacious. The mismatched teen, reached for him with his left, only to be knocked off balance by a low swiping tail, and then receive a crushing blow to the side. Mashirao breathed out as he watched his classmate tumble, the other barely catching himself on an hastily materialized iceberg.

"You" he heard Todoroki seethe, "You are in MY WAY!" the mismatched teen hollered before his right hit the ground, sending a coiling snake of ice straight at him. Mashirao dodged, barely managing to stay in bounds. The attacks that followed stunk of fury, bordered insanity in their intensity. And soon he found himself heaving with exertion, covered in sweat and hardly able to move, his muscles screaming in protest. On the opposite end stood Todoroki, shivering but bolt upright, untouched since his first attack. The lull in the fight afforded him another glance to the side, towards the man he called father. The man nodded again, passing a muted message, a permission to go all out. An exhausted smile crept onto Mashirao's lips, as Present Mic's commentary about being backed against the wall raged. He sucked in a deep breath, before exhaling slowly, and letting the waves of chakra finally crash through the first gate.

"Gate of Opening" he muttered, feeling fatigue disappear, and the next instant he was on Todoroki. Surprise decorated his classmate's eyes, as he pushed back, with shards of ice haphazardly thrown at him. He spun through the air, rebounding from the cement with his tail to slide into a powerful strike against Todoroki's middle. He heard a crack as his hand collided with something hard, but the other boy was thrown back. In an instant he flung open the second gate. He remembered his father's warning that the technique he was taught was dangerous, taxing the body beyond human imagination. But this time he was fighting with all stops pulled, fighting to prove that he can be an equal to anyone, because he is an Uchiha! A cry ripped from his throat, as he danced between attacks, his body energized. Shards and blocks of ice cascaded around him, as he spun, and turned. For a split second he thought he saw an ember appear on Todoroki's left, but it was snuffed out in an in instant. Instead a spiked wall materialized seemingly out of nowhere, forcing him back, and cutting into his arms and legs. He flipped back, arching high through the air. Landing Mashirao stumbled, and then skidded across the concrete leaving a crimson trace of scraped skin, and oozing blood. Damn it! Mashirao clenched his fists, rolling back to his feet.

DAMN HIM! His mind screeched, as he felt his chakra surge, crawl under his skin, until finally his ultimate weapon gave way.

"GATE OF LIFE!" he bellowed, feeling the dust and small rubble shift around him, as his skin turned red hot, his hair rose up, displaying the symbol of Konohagakure obscured so far by his hair. He realized that in that instant he may have looked like a demon, or a super saiyan for that matter. But he stomped the thought down, and pushed all the chakra he had left straight through his system, feeling every sinew of muscle fill with power.

He smiled lopsidedly at his opponent, catching a pair of mismatched, and for the first time truly terrified, eyes. He sprung into action, his movements so fast, that he turned into a blue blur bouncing between attacks. A second later his foot collided with Todoroki's jaw, as he came up from below, ripping the other boy clean off the ground. Up in the air, he would have more difficulty attacking. But that wasn't enough, not with Todoroki. He landed two more kicks, carrying the other boy high into the air in an impossible feat of strength and agility. He spun around landing another punch, and then when he was finally above his foe, the bruised teenager dived down for a final kick. However before he could deliver the crushing blow he caught something in Todoroki's eye, pure malice. And then the world turned white.

***

Madara was running before the fight even ended, the Sharingan in his eyes shifting into the kaleidoscope. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his other two students almost ready to jump from the stands, as the fractal of ice extended enveloping his son. There was a reason he stuck around so close to the arena. Almost ten years as an investigator taught him to read people, and what he saw in Todoroki's eyes was beyond hatred. He expected the fight to go this way, perhaps with the exception of Mashirao not taking so long to actually overcome his fear. Nevertheless as a father he was proud, and right now he would have been terrified, if he wasn't certain that he can retrieve his son before any damage is done. Todoroki's attack as flashy, and seemingly in control as it was, was actually haphazard and completely out of scale. The Sharingan showed the future, a mountain of ice, with a single soul at its center, something Madara wouldn't allow as long as he lived. Pushing the chakra into his legs, and forming the Tiger seal the armored hero leaped, as the ice slowly ate away at the meager distance separating the two boys. Mashirao's leg fell aiming straight for Todoroki's collarbone, it was creeping at a snail's pace. The boy was in an awful state, both of his hands bleeding, one broken, the muscles in his tail nearly shredded. Madara twisted mid air, grabbing Mashirao under the thigh and circling the other hand behind his back, the boy's body was nested against his chest. Damn was that kid heavy! The hero thought as time accelerated. A blizzard exploded just behind their backs, falling short of catching them, and leaving an almost fifty meter mountain of ice standing.

He landed heavily, sliding across the cement, until he finally stopped short of the out of bounds line. Suddenly Madara grew very aware of the thousands of stares directed at him, and the silence that fell in the stadium.

"That was unexpected. Aizawa, was that expected?" poorly muted out commentary sounded from up high.

So perhaps he has overdone this slightly. The boy in his arms groaned, drawing his attention, three gates. He didn't know whether to be proud or to start the river of berating. He fully intended Mashirao to go all out, but to do so within reason, meaning that two gates would have been more than sufficient. His knuckles were scraped raw, bone peeking out here and there, a couple of fingers hung a little crooked, and one leg was twisted at what was certainly not a natural degree, unless you were a bird that is. Mashirao ground his teeth, and groaned again, before finally opening his eyes.

"Did I get him?" he asked, as Midnight proclaimed Todoroki's victory in the background. His son kissed his teeth, and Madara scoffed under his breath. If Tobirama was running the show this wouldn't have passed, hell no, not on a Chunin exam at least. It might sound awkward but Madara was really starting to miss that insane bastard. He would have Enji's head on a plate. Even if the Todoroki clan in a vague way reminded him of his own messed up family there were no circ*mstances to explain why Shouto turned out like this, other than Endeavor's sick ambition.

"Next time sport" he replied, and started walking towards the medics rushing in with the stretcher. He is really going to have to fix this up.

***

"Recovery Girl what did you give my son?" the hero asked about twenty five minutes later standing over the bed where his son was resting with a cast on each hand, and one over his leg, not to mention the numerous bruises and lacerations all over his body. The boy should be out like a light, instead he was high like a kite, giggling and having the dopiest smile Madara had ever seen on his face. It was so wide, he was afraid that his son's face would crack.

"Just a minor sedative" the aged doctor muttered from her computer. It ended at shattered fingers, two broken arms, and a broken leg, not to mention a cast for the damaged tail. Luckily the boy would live, and fight again, after a couple more visits to the esteemed hero of medicine and being confined to bed for the next two days.

"And you sure it wasn't green and smokable?" he queried watching the boy giggle again. Izuku, Hitoshi, and Hagakure were in the room too, his other son standing at the foot of the bed and peering at brother with curiosity, while Hagakure was running her hand through Mashirao's golden hair. Hitoshi was sitting on the other side of the bed. His face seemed devoid of any emotion, but his eyes were moving over the cast Recovery Girl fixed him with a glare which was somewhere between you-won't-survive-your-next-shots and pray-its-only-a-rectal-thermometer, and Madara wisely opted to zip his lips before she settled on one or the other or both. It was at that moment that Mashirao chose to begin talking. At first some incoherent blabber, which made Recovery Girl get to her feet, but then he went all out.

"AAA have you seeen Haaagaaaakure" he blabbed, "sooooo prettttyyyyy!" he crooned. Hitoshi's jaw tensed, as his hands bunched up the fabric of the school issued sweat pants. "Soooo loveeeely!" Mashirao swooned, and Madara was fairly certain some pink appeared where the girl's face should be. "I liiike her so much!" the boy beamed, and now Madara was certain that he was 100% high, "I'm gonna marry her!" Mashirao promptly added. Izuku lit up like a christmas tree, while Hagakure released an unholy screech of what could only be interpreted as a sixty percent mix of embarrassment and forty percent delight. The hero didn't fail to notice that Hitoshi looked away. He clicked his teeth watching the interaction. And now he is going to have to...

"Hitoshi's niiiiice too" Mashirao giggled. Ah... f*ck... Madara's brain performed a critical error. What the f*ck?! Then again, Izuku did find the two boys cuddling, but wasn't Mashirao straight? Was he missing something? Hitoshi's head whipped back around so fast it threatened whiplash. Hagakure threw him a puzzled stare over their mutual love interest, while Izuku had a very cunning look on his face. It dawned on Madara that he let his son out of his sight for just perhaps two hours, and the boy somehow managed set the dynamic of that relationship on its head.

"Let's go son, we best not interrupt the romantic moment" he said to Izuku, who half hung on the edge of the bed, his hands propping up his head, as he watched the two objects of Mashirao's interest turn beet red.

"Mhm" the boy hummed, pushing away from the bed, "I have Kacchan to bother after he is done with his fight anyway" the boys chirped. Of course he did. Madara sighed, opening the doors of the office, and ushering his son out.

"Recovery Girl, if anything at all happens please call the special number" he throws, before the aged doctor waves him away. Taking into account the fact that the other visitors are too busy drowning in embarrassment she is probably going to wait for the next batch of bodies while reading another one of her romance novels.

***

"It seems the subtleties of our fate once again eluded me" the philosophy student sighed pushing at the doors of the small cafe. To his surprise they are locked. Huh? If Tobirama-san was on shift why would he lock the doors? As far as the philosopher was concerned the man whom, he jokingly called Uncle Grumpy, had a stellar record when it came to running the cafe, unlike the rest of them... Shrugging he fished his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the doors. The first thing he noticed was the disarray on the counter, as though someone got dragged across it. A fight? A kunai slipped out of his long sleeve, as his eyes darted across the room. The broom closet was open, but the register was shut, and there was no other signs of struggle. Besides he hardly imagines who would be insane enough to attack this cafe, especially after that one stunt Tobirama pulled. It involved a steaming jug of coffee, one heavily pissed former Hokage, and a villain who ended up with second degree burns, and most likely more broken bones than he expected. Frowning, Itachi crept through the cafe all the way to the back doors leading upstage. His heart remained calm, as he swiftly moved up the stairs, until he found himself in a small genkan, leading to the corridor which branched into four tiny rooms. Tobirama's doors were left ajar... Interesting. The man was known for his love of privacy, perhaps due to that whole 'gay thing' that he seemed so afraid of coming out into the open.

The philosopher quirked an eyebrow, before sneaking up the corridor, until he could peer through the crack. Slowly his face inched towards the slit emitting sunlight. Itachi's eye bulged, and his jaw went slack at the sight inside. Tobirama's room looked like a war zone! Clothes and pieces of what must have been armor lay strewn everywhere! That one even he, the mastermind Uchiha Itachi didn't see coming. Laying amongst the clothes on a hastily thrown out futon was Tobirama, his naked body sprawled out on top of a much younger looking fellow with navy hair, and a dorky smile on his lips. Tobirama's phone vibrated somewhere in that mess, and the man started groping for it, before ditching the call. Now Itachi was very aware of what he walked in on and why the cafe was locked. He certainly valued his life, which a former Hokage would probably happily take if anything was said or even insinuated about what he had just seen. So he did what a smart man would do, closed the doors, and quietly crept back downstairs. They had customers to serve, and he had to erase this image from his retinas because The Second Hokage snuggling a mountain of muscles was just something he wouldn't unsee for a long time. On top of that he had to figure out what to do about a certain supposedly dead clansman of his and apparently his kids, even if the latter didn't look like an Uchiha at all and vaguely of a certain bushy browed jonin he once came in contact with.

Finding himself downstairs, Itachi started brewing coffee, black and bitter, like his soul. He flipped the sign over to read Open, and sat down heavily.

Why can't the universe just give him a break. Just once, one life time where he isn't suffering from a deadly disease, or has to fight everyone to achieve one of his convoluted plans. Just once. A bottle of whiskey was laying on the counter, and for once Itachi heeded its call.

Chapter 24: The Fights of the Sports Festival

Chapter Text

"Dad, you do know that me fighting Kaminari really isn't fair" Izuku grumbled under his breath. No doubt he was itching for a real battle. Madara could feel the restless energy thrumming under his fingers as he straightened out the UA gym uniform. He undid the forehead protector around his son's arm. The plate was a little scratched, but better it than the boy. Speaking of him, Izuku seemed to take after him in terms of willingness to fight. When his pairing was announced he almost deflated. Madara guessed Izuku wanted to be the one to face Todoroki or better yet his gunpowder barrel of a friend, Katsuki. As to the blond, not a moment ago he had to usher that troublemaker out, because he was in fact stressing Izuku out a little bit with his horrible scowl, and gritting of teeth. As he tied off the rugged material he was circling his own set of doubts.

"I am aware sport" he answered, studying his little masterpiece now sitting around his son's forehead. Todoroki... yeah, what does he do about that? Scare Endeavor into compliance? Like that's gonna work, the man doesn't know his limits, and he is certain it wouldn't be heroic to bluntly show them to the wannabe hero. Maybe he could have a polite conversation? That did sort of work after the USJ. He did state his demands in a... diplomatic way... didn't he? Oh, who are we kidding!

"So it should be a quick fight" his son concludes with an air of certainty.

"Never conclude the fight before you fight the fight" Madara admonishes, ruffling his son's hair. It took him a while to outgrow the habit himself, hopefully his own little brat won't fall prey to the Uchiha pride. "Now get out there before that pikachu copycat wins by default" he grins. A bright smile answers his own, before Izuku pushes his hand off and confidently strides out the door.

Madara follows out into the corridor, watching his precious son stroll into the sunlight. The sun reflected off of his dark curls dying the green, and for just a moment a fleeting memory crossed his mind. Izuku was seven, and it was the first day of school. His boy turned, just like now, to look back and give him a wave, almost as though it was Madara who needed encouragement. Truth be told maybe he was, because right now watching the boy walk towards the concrete his heart was pounding and perhaps his vision was growing a little blurry. He wiped his eyes hurriedly, and sniffled before glancing off to the side. Seems like fatherhood will never stop surprising him.

About that, he still had to look in on his other son. God only knows if the tailed blond will survive the embarrassment of having confessed to Hagakure like that. The hero frowned recalling how out of it his son was, literally high as a kite. However this fight will most likely be quick, despite his warnings. The armor clinked as he leaned against the wall, letting the sun warm just his toes. The fight really won't last long. Izuku will most likely fry Pikachu, or catch him in a wooden cage, at the worst hose him down so fast that yellow haired, loudmouth with a pension for going stupid will not even put two and two together. He yawns, watching Midnight go over the rules like she did with every student before these two. No kicking in the balls, fighting fair and square, all the loser crap he never really bothered with. After all, fighting fair is for puss*es. His lips quirked in a menacing ark, as he watched the boys nod. Boy is this going to take just a moment. He sighed, content with the realization. He had trained his son well, some could even argue that he had trained him too well, because honestly only three people in his year could likely stand up to him in a fight like this. And probably no one would be able to fight his son if the boy would be given time to prepare. Just the thought spread a warm, tingly feeling though his chest.

The boys stepped away from one another, and a moment later the match started. Pikachu unleashed an impressive thunderbolt. Huh, interesting, overconfidence? Perhaps, or maybe plain old lack of common sense? He ought to be aware of the fact that Izuku can use lightning, so why go all out? What if his son were to simply redirect it? It was a reckless move, bold, but ridiculously stupid.

The hero stopped pondering, as the bolt touched his son's hand and a split second later a thunderbolt zigzagged into the sky, branching out in a splendid show of golden light. Madara would have admired it longer, if it lasted more than a fraction of second, smeared into timeless fractals by the Sharingan. Stretched out like that in the red of the kaleidoscope fire and lightning were always beyond beautiful. Maybe long, long ago that was why he fell in love with fighting. The colorful tree of light fizzled out into nothingness, leaving his son standing a few meters from a brainless blond.

"For once the stereotype holds true" the hero muttered as Izuku gently guided his intellectually stunted classmate out of bounds. If only he could resolve his issues with such simplicity. Next rounds were coming up. Hitoshi was to face Katsuki, a fight which without a doubt will have Aizawa biting his nails. Izuku would be going up against Tokoyami. However this wasn't the fight that he was worried about. If both boys progressed they would face one another in the semifinal, and something told him that in the end one of them would have to battle Todoroki in the final.

***

There was a warm weight pressing into his back, and puffs of air tickling the back of his neck. Bright light was falling in through the the slits of the blinds, illuminating strewn clothes, pieces of armor, a wayward metal shoe laying about the room, a ridiculous reminder of something Tobirama needed for a very long time. A muscled arm tucks him in even closer, before Tensei nuzzles his neck like a cuddly puppy. The bed is warm, soft, and there is a properly built, and relatively intelligent man in it. If he was one to be poetic he'd say he is in a state of absolute bliss, even if he is sweaty, gross, and his back hurts as hell. Well, it was worth it.

"You still asleep?" Tensei mumbles, his voice still rusty with dreams just left behind. His lips graze the nape of the bartender's neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Tobirama sighs, he really hoped for a few more minutes of sleep, perhaps turning and hugging that huge piece of a man to his chest, snuggling. He heard it's quite important in budding relationships, and... he had never cuddled with anyone.

"No, I am practicing being dead" he replies spitefully, and feels a warm rumble shake the hero's chest.

"So grumpy" the man hums, and course thumb brushes over the old, pink scar on his cheek, a sister to the one marring the other and his chin. "So salty" Tensei teases, throwing a leg over his hip and holding him in place. This hugging business... it's nice. Tobirama's cheeks color as he arrives at the conclusion.

It's remarkably hard not to chuckle at the accusation. Then again he was said to have a temper of a firecracker back in the day, so being called grumpy and salty, could be a compliment as far as he is concerned. Then again today he did something very out of character for himself, something he never really expected. He broke a carefully laid out plan to save a man he didn't even know all that well, but he grew fond of. Laying there, engulfed in warmth it gnaws at him. What if there is someone who can sense chakra in this world, what if they will be discovered. With powers like theirs they could be gods of this world, but what if someone managed to turn them towards evil. The quirks were unpredictable, some almost impossible to get around. Mindreaders, shapeshifters, mutants. These were the daily bread and butter here, and fighting them would be risky, sometimes probably impossible to handle. There are too many variables to handle, too many options, and even if most men are weak, there are always the strong, some whom even he wouldn't be able to handle.

"I'm craving something fried right now" Tensei mutters, and Tobirama can't help but laugh out loud.

***

Waking up from a haze to the sound of your own blood pulsing in your skull, and light shining in your eyes is far from pleasant. Even less so when your whole body feels like an elephant sat on it. Mashirao blinks and tries to lick the dryness out of his mouth, but the salivary glands must have forgotten today is a working day. It feels like his tongue is stuck to his teeth. A truly terrible sensation, which only an adult will tell you must be a pretty damn good hangover. Slowly, very slowly, since at least half of his brain is currently tranquilized it dawns on him that he is flat on his back, and just about every muscle in his body in numb. Then he recalls a very courageous, and quite impressive stunt he pulled on Todoroki. He would have grinned, if he had the energy for it.

He blinks again letting the blurry shapes in front of his eyes even out, sharpen and form two heads. One of spiky black hair, with slight eye bags, and a sharp chin. He knows the guy... of course! Dad! So he is not dead, that's something. If he recalls correctly he passed out before he could figure out what exactly happened at the very end of the fight. He will have to ask about that. The other is white and red, and sports an expression as blank as the ceiling... Todoroki.

"Ugh" Mashirao grunts, trying to push himself up with the one appendage that doesn't feel weighed down. Laying on his back is freaking uncomfortable, and his tail has fallen asleep. Just for comparison it feels ten times worse than a foot. However before he can squirm his way up, a gentle hand pushes him back onto the mattress.

"Rest" Madara says quietly, before tapping him twice on the chest, "This guy said that he needs to speak with you, and he wouldn't let the topic go until I let him. As you can imagine I was hesitant" his father explains shortly, looking up at Todoroki. From his spot Mashirao can see how the neutral grimace hides eyes twinkling with willpower.

"If it's an apology, then there is nothing to apologize for. It was a fair fight" Mashirao croaks. He really could do with a glass of water right about now. His ribs feel tender, heck he feels tender all over.

"No, it's something different" Todoroki answers without skipping a beat. He leans in just the slightest, as though he wanted to gage the most out of whatever reaction Mashirao will have when he finally drops that big fat bomb of a question, that reason they had to talk so urgently. At this point in his life Mashirao just wishes that he drops it sooner, because there is no way he is staying awake much longer.

"Uchiha-kun, are you All Might's illegitimate son?" Todoroki asks gravely. For a moment everything stills, even the soft whir of Recovery Girl's computer. Mashirao blinks stupidly up at number two's son as he tries to piece together any sort of reasoning behind this question, and continuously comes up empty. "Simply, even with your tail you have been able to greatly amplify your strength, much like All Might. Also you have similar hair, and - "

Todoroki is cut off by a loud snort, and then a hyena like giggle, which turns into a very unsettling laughter, which some would probably describe as insane. Both boys turn to look at the source of said heinous sound, a one very entertained shinobi, who is currently having what could very well be described as a fit, bent in half and cackling like a frenzied beast.

Mashirao sighs deeply. That wasn't quite the response he expected his father to have. "No, Todoroki-kun, I am Uchiha-san's adopted son" he replies stressing the word 'adopted' and his father howls almost like a wolf would. The mismatched teen nods, before getting shooed out of the office. Mashirao's eyes fall shut as the doors close, leaving him in the company of pitch black dreams, and a peculiar shinobi choking on his own laughter.

***

The moment the doors shut Madara gets his laughter under control. His clone is watching the fight outside, and judging by how Izuku is doing he has mere minutes. Quickly he shuts the blinds around his son's bed. The wounds he suffered aren't serious, but he would rather not see the boy suffer, lord knows he has had enough of that in his life. Sure, pain is a great teacher, but usually parental love beats the hell out of it. With the blinders firmly shut he takes off his gloves.

Gently he lowers his hands, but as he is about to touch his son Madara hesitates. He rarely does, but then again there is no Uchiha who ever attempted what he is about to do. It took a while, a long while to learn, but when he drove home from the hospital on the day of Izuku's birth, with his son in the back seat, himself alone and broken he swore another oath, that no matter what he would never lose anyone in his family again. A faintest glimmer of green materialized around his fingers, pulsing with life like a wellspring of youth. The hero gulped, and activated his Sharingan, he wasn't about to let anything happen to one of his boys. Tentatively he placed the hands on his son's sides. Medical jutsus were said to be exhausting, and he could already feel it, as he pushed and prodded at the cells on cracked ribs. So far he has only done this to himself, a couple of fish and rabbits, never anyone else, because in this world there were just too many mutants with their individual biology. Slowly he mended the ribs, and moved to the fractured leg. The damage here was more severe, he could feel it in his fingertips even through the thick cast.

***

Recovery Girl paused her reading noticing the soft green light sneaking out from under young Uchiha-kun's bedcurtain. Her eyes narrowed, as he heard a soft grunt of exertion. What could that mysterious man be up to this time? She wondered. When they first met, almost a decade ago she tried many times to pry at the man's secrets, at the incomprehensible patchwork of old scars littering his body, and the very few that he ever got throughout their time spent as doctor and patient. Of course dropping by UA and being on its retainer sooner or later put him on the students' radar. She still remembers when Mei, a former teacher here, wonderful woman, came to talk to her saying that these youngsters are insufferable. How they have absolutely no idea what makes a good hero, and how their role models are messed up. If she recalls correctly it was one of the rare times that Aizawa got actually excited in class. It was the day that first year students revealed their hero names. That day Mei stormed into her office, and yelled that Aizawa-kun said, that he wants to be a super cool hero, who saves the day without people knowing, who makes a difference everywhere, but is seen nowhere, like Madara Uchiha!

She smiled to herself, remembering how awed the boy was the first time he saw that weird eyes of the former private investigator, and how upset he was when he learned that he can't intern at a private investigator's agency. Who would know that he would be a drinking buddy, moreover his nephew would be directly taught by the now hero.

With a sigh she flipped the page. The great adventures of Conan and how he conquered Avilion's heart wouldn't read themselves. Besides, she was getting to the steamier bits.

***

"Effin sh*t, what a dunce" Katsuki grumbled, as his short, adorable friend leaned on the barriers next to him. "You shoulda roughed the f*cker up more" he scoffed, before a shoulder rubbed against his. He was still pissed at himself for getting the little bugger anxious in the first place, and at Madara-san for kicking him out of the waiting room before he could fix it and confess properly. He was f*cking working up to it! All right?!

He watched as Half'n'half stepped into the ring with Roundface. f*ck, he was gonna pulverize her. Whatever. The blond turned to look at Izuku. The shorter boy was completely drawn into the match just starting down below, utterly unconscious to the fact that his shoulder was pressed against Katsuki's. The pint sized, green haired shinobi looked so stupidly kissable right now Katsuki had to curse before looking away to hide the furious blush on his cheeks.

"Bro that was awesome!" Kirishima hooted, and before Katsuki could move a muscle that beefy idiot was draped over Izuku's back like a f*cking retarded shark blanket. Bakugou's eyelid twitched, and for a lengthier moment he wondered how hard would it be simply bite through the idiot's neck.

"Thanks!" Izuku beamed, and Katsuki fumed silently. He was this f*cking close to giving sh*t for brains a parting gift. As in it would part him. Part of him there, another over there, and another part way over there staining the f*cking wall!

"What did you think Kacchan?" Izuku grinned at him, catching him completely off guard, and half way into a mental murderer.

"Of course you f*cking did great dumbass" he barks, and immediately wants to slam his head into the railing. His crush smiles at him, with the metal forehead protector reflecting the light in such a way that it only adds to the blinding aura the short teen radiates. How can he be this f*cking cute! What's worse, how can he be this f*cking oblivious?

***

"Are you comforting him as well?" Hitoshi asks dryly, as Izuku fixes the forehead protector into place for the tenth time in that many minutes. It takes just the faintest splutter from his former crush to know what is going on. Shinsou sighs in a way which vaguely resembles that of his uncle on his worse days.

"You know he likes you?" he queries, as Izuku tilts his head this way and that. He is apparently far more agitated about this fight. Bakugou, just like Numbskull is going to be easy. He yells, he throws threats, he talks sh*t, and he keeps a lot of oh so threatening eye contact. Hitoshi smirks, at his friend, who has suddenly stopped moving, and who's hands have unsurprisingly grown as warm as his freckled cheeks. "Ooooooh" Hitoshi drawls, watching his friend go into a halfassed heart attack. So he still hadn't figured it out.

"No, no, no, no nononononononononon" Izuku stutters, backpedaling mentally, still clutching his cheeks as though they were some sort of a lifeline. Admittedly for someone who does so much training his friend has incredibly soft skin. "He certainly just means it as a friend. After all you and Mashi-onichan have been sleeping together too" Hitoshi's smirk grows just a little wider, could it be that things between these two are like that. 'Accidentally' falling asleep with one another? Or maybe this is more of a childhood habit? How delightful, so much goading material in case everything fails and he has to grasp at his ace in the hole.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone" he grins up at his friend. "After all you gave me a little advice on what to do with your older brother" he wiggles his eyebrows lightly, and Izuku nearly short circuits on the spot. By the way it was some pretty robust, though rather condensed advice of... well, he would rather not dive into it, but it was a direction he didn't expect. He would work on it later. Now he had a fight to focus on.

***

Being encouraged, coached, or whatever your word for a pep talk is wasn't ever on Katuski's to do list. He didn't ever really need it, after all he was f*cking amazing. If anything he would coach that sweet lovemuffin currently holding his face in his hands, and squishing his cheeks. His heart was racing, leaving a dull thud in his ears. It was actually getting a little difficult to hear what the green haired pipsqueak was rambling about. He did catch something about pain neutralizing hypnosis, and much much later something about not replying to Hicchan's questions or he will be done for. Deep inside he was rather torn between the delight of being in this situation and desire to rip 'Hicchan's' head clean off his body. Unsurprisingly perhaps he settled on the latter. It was just this fight that separated him from his beloved, proving his life, and them decimating Todoroki to show that he is the only man fit to be with the heir of the Uchiha clan. His blood was boiling, his palms were sweating, he was going to blow that eyebagged idiot out like a candle.

The instructions were given, and the match was about to start. But for some reason, ever since he looked into these slightly faded purple eyes Bakugou felt like his insides turned to steel, and his arms to lead. The horn blew, and that bastard smirked. Before he could think another thought he turned around, and started walking. Not him... his body. It was like strings pulled him along. In an instant every cell in his body screamed in rage, blood boiling, head splitting fury that might have given lesser men an aneurysm. But Bakugo f*cking Katsuki was not a lesser man. His feet dragged towards the out of bounds line, as the crowd went into a frenzied fit over another stupidly easy victory.

'FUUUUCK THEM' his mind screeched, as the dreaded white line drew ever closer. He had to do something! f*cking right f*cking now! It was almost like...

Before another swear managed to float through his brain he let off an explosion. And for the first time in his life he truly understood why some people were afraid of his quirk. It started with a pressure, but that lasted hardly an instant, because the next split second felt like the one time Izuku's flames were a touch too close, only a thousand f*cking times more painful. His eyes bulged, jaw clenched and knees buckled with pain, sending him onto all fours just before the white boundary of loss.

"I am going to rip his eyes out" Katsuki ground out, to the roar of his own blood thundering in his ears. His jaw clenched so tight his teeth threatened to shatter. "I am so going to kiss that runt" he groaned, staggering to his feet. Cautiously he turned around, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the weird toeless shoes. A creepy, mildly insane smile, crept onto Katsuki's face, as he limped his way back towards the center, where that smug bastard still stood motionless. Loud-ass teacher-bastard yelled commentary, but he was deaf to anything happening outside their little world walled in by the white lines.

"How did you like this little trick?" Eyebags drawled lazily, no doubt with that dumb, smug smirk on his snakelike lips.

He was about to make a comeback, a swear splattered retort which would probably cause some kids to cry and run for their mommies, when a very crucial memory resurfaced. His lips slowly closed, before he raised his hand. He managed to just see these purple eyes widen, before he fired off an explosion which shook the stadium. The bastard dodged, diving out of the fire's reach by a hair's width. Something silver flashed, reflecting the midday sun. The Konoha forehead protector. Katsuki gritted his teeth firing another salvo. He was supposed to be the one to stand by Izuku as a hero and protector, not that washed out, lousy, piss poor excuse of a joke! He trained with Uchiha-san too! He was deserved of that headband which just clattered to the ground! HE WAS!

With a crazed holler Katsuki released another blast, almost catching Hitoshi in it. Why is that stupid... His mind roared with a fine blend of pain, frustration and anger as he charged forward, straight at the purple haired bastard. He is going to finish it, blow that idiot to smithereens, rip flesh from his bones and grill it in a nitric fire. Before the idiot can move Katsuki's hand tightens around his neck, and his charging weight sends them both to the ground. Katsuki's vision turned red long ago. How dared that insolent bastard do something like this to him?! TO HIM! THE STRONGEST OF ALL THE STUDENTS! Petrified eyes peer into his own, deliciously terrified by the prospect of death as the nitroglycerin dripping from his palm starts heating up.

He is going to teach this freak a lesson. So that everyone knows what happens to those who piss him off.

***

Madara's mind felt hazy, even with the sudden jolt of chakra coming off from somewhere far away. The room was dark, and smelled sterile, oh right, he was in Recovery Girl's field office. Another jolt of chakra passed by, barely registered by his exhausted brain. On the bed in front of him, laying on the side was sleeping his blond haired son, his breath slow and steady, devoid of any discomfort. With some surprise he noted the casts were removed. Slowly he got up, feeling his joints protest at the prospect of any movement. For some reason healing jutsus always left him drained, kind of hangover drained, which at the age of forty five was the worst kind of exhausted one can get. Just now a pulsing headache was probing at his brain, and the dimmed light seemed at least two times too bright. He rolled his shoulders, before slipping out of the confines of his son's makeshift room, and past Recovery Girl absorbed in whatever romantic smut she was reading this time. At least he was fairly certain it was that because her cheeks were furiously red.

The corridor was deserted, so with a small sigh he chose to walk back up the stairs to the teacher's lounge. He wouldn't be taking the elevator, that's for weaker men, optionally for Nedzu-san, who didn't belong in that category.

***

Izuku's hands clenched around the barrier, as the Sharingan swirled playing out a chaos of fractals before his eyes. In what state of mind does Kacchan have to be that even the dojutsu has problems figuring out what he is about to do. Lights blared and shifted, as explosions bloomed and vanished down below. Hitoshi was ducking and dodging, always on the verge of getting caught, but consistently being pushed towards the corner. He swallowed, deaf to Eichan's blabber right by his side. The fight had started off so well, Hitoshi had cheated a little, sneaking in the genjutsu even before the signal to start the match was given, but it was within 'acceptable' bounds of cheating. Of course to understand these bounds one would have to be an Uchiha for whom honor was everything and many ends justified a whole lot of means. The thing was that Kacchan did something no one expected. Even trapped in the illusion somehow he managed to fire of an explosion, effectively searing his mind out of the hypnosis. Izuku cringed at just the thought of the pain that had to cause.

The explosions were growing more and more erratic, and larger in force. This far away no one save him could have seen that the blond's forearms were almost shaking with exertion. Katsuki stormed towards the cornered Hitoshi, who attempted to counter, but before he could so much as get to his feet Kacchan had him by the neck, and the next moment he was pinning Hicchan to the ground. One hand clutched at the slender neck, the other was raised high and suddenly all the fractals converged into a single horrid vision.

Breath suddenly logged in his throat, as Kacchan's shoulders shook. Impossible... he wouldn't.

"Stop the fight" Izuku breathed, shrugging off Kirishima's arm. "STOP THE FIGHT!" someone yelled, as the Katsuki's palm started shining with bright yellow light. He didn't wait longer, he didn't pay attention to the creeping pink smoke, or the sluggish rise of a wave of concrete as he folded the Tiger Seal, and pulled on his chakra. Even though the Body Flicker Technique wasn't particularly difficult right now it felt like he was about to plunge into a lake of mercury.

Power surged through him, as in one fluid motion he dove straight down into the arena. There was only one thing he could see, the glowing hand, slowly igniting with the flame of explosion. His breath felt trapped in his throat throughout the microseconds as the air whistled in his ears.

***

If Madara Uchiha had bad days, they usually revolved around his precious sons doing something less than standard by social norms, and very normal by Uchiha standards. Then again, his late wife's friend's son was also a piece of work which brought more havoc than peace into just about anything that feral blond offspring touched. If he wasn't exhausted he would have been alarmed, after all the situation was rather alarming. You know. Izuku flying into the arena like a green haired torpedo of pure worry. Meanwhile Hitoshi is pinned under Katsuki, and not in the romantic way, more in a i-am-going-to-scorch-your-face-off way. The noise of the crowd is really not doing him any favors, neither is Eraserhead's voice mid frantic holler. If these were not his kids...

His stomach heaved, and the small lunch he had swirled with the ferocity of a hornet's nest as he pulled on his chakra.

***

If Tobirama had ever thought that he was going to be surprised by anything that was it. Leaning against a broad chest with a square jaw sitting on his head was perhaps something he could get used to. That cuddling business really was something. And he was really looking forward to doing it more often. Tensei was leaning against the wall, soft light filtered through the blinds. In his rough palm his boyfriend held a phone with a cracked screen, where just a few moments ago a boy with engines in his calves was tormented by a girl with vines for hair, whom he ultimately beat.

However it wasn't that fight that had his jaw drop. It was the one right now, or rather who just landed in the middle of the arena, mercilessly prying the blond off of the purple haired boy, and catching a green haired kid mid flight. The cameras zoomed in on the stranger, standing on wide spread legs, with his arms crossed. One skeletal, blue, flaming arm pinned the thrashing blond to the ground, while the other clutched the small greenette. The picture blurred for a moment, but now it was clear as day. Black spiked hair, sharp features, and red eyes. Clay red armor, which looked like it had been torn out of the Edo era barely shifted, as a stern look was directed at the blond who immediately stopped screaming murder. But Tobirama could barely tare his eyes away from the man standing and apparently calmly conversing with the heroes who came running into the ring. He half expected him to shred all three boys, exterminate Midnight and Cementos, before feasting on their livers and hearts.

Well, it would have been the rational thing to do for Madara Uchiha!

"You are freaking kidding me!" Tensei piped up, leaning forward and jostling him out of his stupor in the process. "How did he get there so fast? And what's with these arms? I've never seen him do that before!" his oversized boyfriend was evidently excited, extremely even. Tobirama in turn had a pretty good idea of what happened though, the Susanoo.

"You know him?" he asked cautiously still staring at the heroes hurriedly discussing something. Another one ran to the scene, this one tried to shake the stunned, purple haired kid awake as soon as he got to him.

"Hell yeah I do. It's Madara Uchiha. When we were still at UA we all looked up to him. He was sort of famous in the underground, but he wasn't a hero, more of a private investigator. You know he handled cases passed down by government, and UA. I mean, the school hasn't been attacked ever since he showed up. It's kind of amazing really, because supposedly before then there was like a dozen attacks a year" Tensei prattled on, completely oblivious to the fact that Tobirama was about to rip his hair out by the roots. This was not possible, this was not happening. He has already had one life dealing with this spiky haired sh*t! "Aizawa, that guy in black even wanted to intern at Madara-san's office! And now his kid is attending UA"

"HIS KID?!" Tobirama screamed, turning to look at his boyfriend, only to earn a puzzled look in return.

"Yeah, that green haired pipsqueak Izuku Uchiha. My brother says he is a pretty big deal" Tensei supplied helpfully. Kid, KID?! Now if Tobirama was to take a wild guess Madara had a convoluted, absolutely bat sh*t crazy way of taking over the world, or some such. After all Madara Uchiha was not capable of reasonable thought... Scratch that, incapable of being reasoned with on a moral level. So the kid had to be in some way a part of it.

"And recently he even adopted. Kind of a shame we missed Mashirao's fight" Tensei explained, freezing the silver haired shinobi in his arms. ADOPTED?! That was just a bit much to handle. Madara freaking Uchiha playing house?! What did he have some f*cking change of heart?! Was he hit on the head when he came here?! What the freaking f*ck. However before he could so much as voice his complete and utter disbelief thick fingers tangled into the spikes on the back of his head, and Tensei pulled him in for a kiss.

***

Ultimately it was settled that Bakugou would advance. Madara stood in the corner of the office pondering what the next fight would bring. Izuku was to go up against Tokoyami, hopefully this one would be in control of himself, because intervening constantly was exhausting even if it did wonders for his popularity. Every now and again he would look up from his phone and the constant stream of minor advertisem*nt offers. Supposedly being able to react in a split second was quite a feat here. Tobirama with his teleportation would have made a fortune if only he had better names for his techniques. Hitoshi was sitting on one of the stools, right next to Katsuki. The latter's thigh was wrapped in thick band aid, he was grumbling something under his breath. Hitoshi in turn had a couple of scrapes and burns, one on his forehead which he got after the forehead protector came loose. As soon as Recovery Girl let Hitoshi go Mashirao started hovering over the tall boy. Katsuki in turn tried storming out of the office, however the newly acquired limp undid his effort.

Madara turned his attention towards the nonphysical. Izuku's chakra was softly pulsing on the rooftop, he was troubled, only it felt like this time it was something Madara couldn't help fix. He could certainly work on something else though. With a sigh he pushed of the wall and pocketed his phone.

Luckily Bakugou didn't limp far, and Madara quickly caught up, now strolling leisurely next to the fuming boy. He could sense the agitation boiling inside the tightly wound boy. He won the fight, but he wasn't happy, it almost felt like he was disheartened. Madara sighed, before placing a gentle hand on Bakugou's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's talk" he said, gently guiding Bakugou off towards one of the entrances. There were food stalls outside, and they probably had at least ten minutes before Izuku was to go out there and fight Tokoyami. Madara quickly bought some grilled squid, spicy for Bakugou and salty for himself, while the blond sat down heavily at one of the empty tables.

"What was that about Katsuki?" he asked calmly, holding the spicy delicacy up. The blond swiped it from his hand with a grunt, before biting into it. He watches the boy carefully, that perpetual scowl on his face is shaking, and his lips are pressed together forming a thin, twisted line. Madara sat down across from him, taking a nibble out of his own squid. It was juicy, and delicate, and even though he liked the foods of the earth the squid was always something he enjoyed from the sea.

"He pissed me off" Bakugou mutters, ripping another chunk off of the squid. Madara would have believed it, he really would, had he not seen the smallest of tears gather in the corners of Katsuki's eyes.

"You know you can talk to me" the hero offered leaning in. Truth be told, the hangover of the medical jutsu was slowly wearing off. Still, he would really like to know what the hell happened in the boy's head, because wanting to hurt someone so badly wasn't normal. Not for heroes at least. "I will -" he started.

"I deserver being by his side" the boy gritted out, as the first tear slipped out of his eye. "I just want to prove I am the strongest! The best! And this sh*tstain, eyebags. This nothing! He tries and take everything from me!" Katsuki choked out, the stick snapped in his fingers, as he got to his feet grunting with pain. "I just want to show him I love him! Is it so much to want to protect him!" he yelled at Madara. For a moment he was taken aback. Was that the depth of his feeling?

"Well then you are clearly going about it wrong!" he yelled back stopping the blond before he could start his rant. Frankly speaking this angry boy routine was pissing him off. "You think I showed Izuku's wife I cared for her by beating up the guy who dumped her? No! I did my best for HER!" he yelled at the stunned boy. He might have overdone it, because for the first time ever Katsuki had the look of deer caught in the headlight. Perhaps this was self-reflection finally sprouting in that thick skull, "For f*ck's sake boy! Man up! Quit dancing around your feelings and if it is Konoha you want then show me you can control yourself, because you almost hurt my student, and Izuku's friend!" a look of horror crossed Bakugou's face, possibly it had something to do with realizing how badly he screwed up. "Fix it" Madara surmised, before stalking off. Now then, he had a son having a meltdown to deal with, and he still hadn't even touched on the matter of Todoroki.

With a tired sigh Madara looked up at the blue sky, the sluggish white puffs of clouds crawling across it. In just one day he became a teacher, saved two of his students, got a modeling gig from some guy called Armani, managed one boy with incapacity to proclaim his love, and another who's heart would soon be torn between his friend, and his love.

"I have arrived at a point in life where I need a stronger word than f*ck" he muttered to the lazy clouds. There were five minutes left to Izuku's fight. He best get going.

Chapter 25: A blazing confession

Chapter Text

"Fun fact dad" Izuku chirped as Madara retied the forehead protector. His son might have fooled just about anyone with this carefree statement, just about. "Tokoyami's demon is afraid of bright light" his son added proudly. Well seems like this too will be over soon. However that's not what troubled Madara. Izuku didn't so much as peep about what transpired in the arena. To be honest it got pretty intense, and the Sharingan... It had a way of revealing the future in a way which left little to doubt about people intentions. Izuku saw Katsuki try to explode Hitoshi's head clean off his body. It was bound to leave an impression, if that was at all an adequate way of putting. He hummed in agreement but didn't say anything, waiting Izuku out was a natural tactic after fifteen years, all right ten of Izuku talking.

His son squirmed in his seat, almost as though he was reluctant to go in the ring and spray a little bit of hell on that darkness drenched chicken.

"Dad?" Izuku asked quietly. Madara made a face behind his son. Finally! They were running short of time for clearing up this debacle anyway. He made to walk around and face his son, currently fidgeting nervously with his fingers, when the boy dropped a shell which stopped him short, "If he likes me why did he hurt my friend?" Izuku pondered with a gentle frown etched into his brow. oh Gods this is going to be a mess. He wasn't great with romance in his own time, given one exception of true love. But the teenage angsty brand of 'love' was a beast he had no understanding of at all.

"So he told you?" he queried just to make sure, before crouching to be at Izuku's eye level. His boy's hair was growing out a little too much, soft curls turning spikier, and giving him a more Uchiha look as they fell into emerald eyes. Izuku shook his head, which was a little surprising, but Katsuki has always had a way with words, especially if they involved swears and curses. To top this mess off Katsuki would simply have to confess in the semifinal fight which was bound to be between these two troublemakers.

"The thing is that sometimes people who like one another" Madara started. Emerald eyes watched him with a hawk like precision. Madara sighed, what an impossible task was set before him. Inko would have reveled in his son's love affairs, she would meddle and stir trouble until it would be impossibly close to a romantic comedy. This case... it was more like his and Hashirama's friendship only much, much more gay and with the chasing being done the other way around. At least there was an analogy, a pitiful one, but he could work this angle. "You see, sometimes people don't understand their emotions, or are too afraid to talk about them. So instead they try conveying them differently. For example by chasing someone, running away, if they are exceptionally stupid like Katsuki by doing something like what he tried" Madara smiles at the last sentence. "At times they are affectionate, or overly invested in your affairs, but they mean well. Even if the implementation is highly misguided" he adds almost as an afterthought. Implementation, what a lovely word, he will have to be using it more often.

Suddenly Izuku's eyes grew comically wide, a thing that definitely didn't spell anything good. "Kacchan, Eicchan, Shouchan" his son counted off, well there certainly was no type to this collection. "Hicchan?!" Izuku yelled, startling the hero. Well, at some point that too was a thing.

"I think he is more into your brother at this point" Madara mused, he did remember that sudden switch, and Izuku did mention some cuddling going on. He frowned recalling that Mashirao wasn't that unconcerned for his friend either... Oh... His eyes widened with realization. Seems like Izuku took after him more than he expected. It seems like some things eluded even the Sharingan. Izuku rubbed his chin in a mirror gesture to his father's as the two pondered just how little they noticed. "We will need to analyze this a little more I think" the hero muttered, and his son nodded vigorously.

"This will make things weird" Izuku mumbled, his shoulders tense. A red light turned on just above the doors, and a moment later the alarm sounded, a sign that the fight is soon to start. Izuku ran a hand through his hair. "Oh I am in so much trouble"

Truer words had yet to be spoken.

***

Izuku was evidently startled by sudden revelations of not minutes ago. He was shifting from foot to foot, and if Madara read his lips right he complimented his opponent's feathers. Well, it seemed to be working because birdbrains grew as flustered as his son. It was kind of confusing, how was he blushing if he had a beak? Didn't these not have capillaries? Ah, never mind. The fight would be short anyhow, Izuku would turn Tokoyami into a roasted chicken on the go, proceed to decimate Katsuki and then claim revenge against Todoroki, like any good Uchiha would. Madara barely managed to keep a smile off of his face.

The alarm blared, and Izuku folded two seals, before releasing a huge ball of flame, and forcing Tokoyami on the defensive. "All Might, this isn't going to take long" Madara mused, as small hands parted the spikes at the top of his head to get a proper view. Daichi was watching the fight from his shoulders huffing once in a while when the unruly hair wouldn't stay put no matter how much he flattened it. In his head Madara called the boy the crow captain. Where as Mashirao was the 'dad' this was the leader of the murderer of little birds. Now the adorable boy was watching with bated breath, as ball after ball of flame Izuku cornered the feathered goth of 1-A. Finally with his heels against the out of bounds line Tokoyami raised his hands into the air, announcing his defeat in a stylish yet edgy way which only the prince of darkness could pull off.

"I concede my defeat, may darkness take me" he read the beak-lips click out.

"And that's that. Find the weakness, explore it, capitalize on it" Madara sighed. Truth be told there was no way Tokoyami could win this one. Lightining and fire were

"Capitalize?" Daichi asked from his shoulders. Smart lad, asking questions, a rarity in most schools.

"To gain advantage through something" Madara supplied before reaching and pulling the boy up and over his head.

"So Todoroki against Iida and Uchiha against Bakugou?" All Might whispered in his slender form, and hacked up blood. Both Daichi and Suga held up small packs of handkerchiefs, while remaining completely unphased by the fact that their own father was apparently knocking on heaven's door right there and then.

"Aren't they some calm kids" Madara mutters to himself, as he watches his son leave the stage.

"Yes" All Might supplies, before coughing some more, "they also make sure I eat five meals a day, and yesterday Suga tried making me a bento" the hero supplies wheezing a little. Madara frowns slightly realizing the days of All Might the hero are numbered even if Yagi will probably live quite a while. Hopefully that backside flashing apprentice of his is ready to take over, otherwise there will be a pretty big void in the power structure. Then again maybe that's just what he needs.

"Speaking of Todoroki. Do you mind if I have a chat with Endeavor?" Madara queries feinting laziness. His eyes find the boy sitting at the tribunes, and then the flaming hero. He doesn't have to be a wizard to figure out that the two are glaring at one another with hard to conceal intensity. If looks could kill Endeavor would most likely be dead by now, long gone, not mourned, but buried.

Yagi sighs heavily, but before he can reply a malicious grin tugs at Madara's lips, "You know like a father to father"

"Knock yourself out!" Yagi yelps, hiding his sons behind him, and wondering how on earth did Izuku turn out so normal.

***

"Why are you kicking me out the window?" Tensei whines at his scowling boyfriend. They are boyfriends... right? He didn't quite get a confirmation on that, apart from that absurdly wild sex they had. And now for some reason Tobirama has pulled him out of bed grumbling something about idiot shinobis, stuffed him right back into his clunky, wet suit, and is using his boot to literally push him out the window.

"Because I got sh*t to do" Tobirama hisses like a king cobra, before reapplying the boot with much more ferocity. It isn't very effective against a metal underside.

Tensei spins around and pulls his silver haired bartender into a short kiss, which leaves his cedar eyed firecracker equal parts fuming and embarrassed.

"I am going to murder you" there is no bite in Tobirama's statement, so Tensei gives him a farewell grin before launching out the window with a soft puff from his exhausts.

"MOTHERf*ckER!" Tobirama yells angrily, slamming the window shut. The glass rattles dangerously, as he spins on his heel ready to get downstairs. He has got calls to make, his idiotic brother included. Go figures how they wound up in this place. Motherf*cking Madara Uchiha. AGAIN! And he was finally getting to figure his life here out, and now this bullsh*t! f*ck! He flings the doors leading to the cafe open and his anger shifts into equal parts of fury and mortification as he finds their local philosopher sitting at the table calmly reading Wittgenstein. Fine! f*ck fine! Whatever, he can deal with this after they deal with Madara!

"Itachi" he addresses the black haired shinobi sitting at the coffee table. Itachi Uchiha turns to him lazily, and a pair of dark eyes seems to bore into his soul. "Madara Uchiha is here" he deadpans, and watches, with great satisfaction, the stony faced boy's jaw drop.

***

He is scraped and covered in bandages, but that doesn't mean he hasn't got stuff to do, soft monkey boys with muscles of steel to woo. No point in being bitter, Izuku told him himself that if he plays his cards right he might just manage to flip this boy like an omelet. And it seems that despite his grumbling, frowning and general stiffness Mashirao is rather fond of him. After all he did carry him all the way up to the stands despite the fact that Hitoshi clearly stated he can walk. Not that he complained, he liked every damn second of resting against that broad back, and he was pretty sure the tips of his friend's ears haven't ever been this red. So now he was fixing his hair, to look presentable. He is going to fight Hagakure over this guy, he damn sure deserves it.

Suddenly the doors to the bathroom fly over, and a short, green haired boy dashes in, before looking around quickly and slamming them shut. Izuku presses his back flat against the only exit in the room, and stands perfectly still like he is listening for whomever might have caused him to get so riled up.

"Hitoshi you have to help me" he whispers, and the purple haired boy narrows his eyes. Now if king of menace, master of heartache, wielder of Sharingan is asking a favor... A smug smirk blossoms on his face.

"And what will I get out of it?" he drawls, leaning back on the stone counter lined with sinks. A flurry of expressions takes over the shorter boy's face before he finally settles on thinly veiled disbelief.

"I will get you and Mashirao a free evening. Together" Izuku breathes with the air of a terrified bunny being chased by a fox. Huh, this really will be quite a favor. Hitoshi lazily raises two fingers into the air, making the shorter boy sputter and choke before nodding ferociously when a voice of a temperamental blond sounds outside.

"WHERE THE f*ck ARE YOU IZUKU!" Bakugou rages. Oh, so this is what it's about, a fiery love confession. Hitoshi silently waves Izuku over, and pushes him into one of the stalls before the doors to the bathroom are blasted open. Hitoshi cracks his mental knuckles, before opening his mouth to pick and prod at the semi stable personality of his definitely unfavorite candidate in the battle for Izuku's heart. Out of the three still in the running he would definitely pick Kirishima, even if the redhead is a dumbass. At least he is a nice one.

"WHERE THE f*ck IS HE?" Bakugou seethes. The nitric smell of his sweat slowly fills the air with an unpleasant stench, as tiny explosions flick around in his palms.

"Aren't you seething with love today?" Hitoshi leers, grinning cunningly at the blond. Katsuki takes the bait and stomps up to him, at least he does a valiant effort of stomping seeing as his leg is still a tad crispy. He stops short of bumping chests, and attempts an intimidating glare which falls short of effect given he is shorter.

"Suck my dick eyebags" Bakugou sneers, and Hitoshi chortles. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Izuku sneaking over the dividers of the cubicles like a giant cat.

"No thank you" Hitoshi snorts. Truth be told this hedgehog prickly attitude is quite endearing once you realize that Bakugou rarely bites, though if he does... Well, currently Hitoshi is pretty sure he is just annoyed but harmless. Izuku slips out the door, and darts off to God only knows where. "And by the way if you really like him that much you ought to just tell him" he adds lackadaisically, and Bakugou freezes up for a moment. "Though you might get rejected, so why not just kiss him?" he whispers, and watches, delighted, as Bakugou blushes with his whole face. What a bashful little beast. He is kind of endearing like that, all flustered and vulnerable. And Hitoshi has apparently got a thing for blonds. If only he showed this side of himself more often someone with any brain in their head might fall for this fuming idiot. Katsuki opens his mouth, and closes it, then opens it again, and then yells something incoherent and storms out of the bathroom slamming the doors so hard they fall off their hinges. Hitoshi watches him go, highly entertained, before running his hand once more through his hair, smoothing the uniform and directing his steps towards his own blond object of affection. Watch out Hagakure, I am coming for your sweet tailed man.

***

It's not difficult to find Endeavor, he is roughly two meters tall, wide as a barge and most likely consumes three dozen eggs every morning.

"How is your boy doing Todoroki-san?" Madara asks leaning against the wall right next to the hero. Compared to this mountain his build leaves a lot to be desired. Most likely Todoroki could crush his head like a watermelon, if ever he could manage to catch Madara being helpless. No one ever did. All right, one shinobi did.

"Much better than your students" Todoroki's lips twist into a grimace which for someone with extreme faith in people might regard as a triumphant smile. Madara makes a valiant effort not to throw diplomacy out the window. He fails.

"Well at least they have a father they respect" Madara muses with a shrug. He has to bite back a laugh feeling the heat radiating from Endeavor intensify.

"He is just going through a phase. You'll see it will all smooth out soon" Endeavor replies, feigning lack of offense. Madara is heartbroken, he meant to offend, like full offense bro! Nevertheless if this is how he wants to play it. His armor clinks as he shifts a little, to get a look at the battle hardened probably psychopathic hero.

"And you think beating him until his skin is blue and black will help with that" Madara sighs. "As far as I can tell he only hates you more" he adds. To his defense he had tried being civil. He really did! It's not his fault Todoroki Enji is a two meters tall dick! So if he wants to talk like that Madara will happily lay some truths on him. Sure he might have only raised one son, and adopted another, but at least his offspring is happy!

"He will thank me" Endeavor snaps, and turns a glare at the hero. Perfect. Madara doesn't wait even a heartbeat before his eyes shift, and a single drop of blood stains his cheek. If he can't do this diplomatically there are other far more efficient ways.

***

Izuku skids around the corner and almost falls before he is embraced by a pair of arms, one cool, the other warm. "Shouchan" he breathes, looking at the brilliant, pearly smile, directed at him like a helicopter spotlight. It might just be his imagination or flowers are materializing behind Todoroki's back like in one of those kitch filled love stories.

"Careful Uchiha, you might fall and hurt yourself" Todoroki muses, but doesn't quite right him. Instead he holds him half leaning against a nice chest, well not as nice as Kacchan's but Shocchan has other benefits. His mind screeches to a halt, and blood drains from his face, as he realizes what his traitorous brain had just implied. In a nimble move he extricates himself from the all too pleasant position, before charging right past Todoroki hoping the other boy didn't see his burning ears or catch his thundering heart.

***

"Relax it's just a tournament. It's not the world cup or something" Madara says, trying to ease his son's nerves as he sits in the waiting room. Izuku's foot is jumping, and his thumbs are spinning so fast that they almost blur. He might not be upset, but whatever happened in the last five minutes has clearly got him shaken up.

"Look treat it like every sparring match you have had with Bakugou" Mashirao supplies helpfully from where he is leaning against the wall. Madara, being a parent extraordinaire senses something is on his other son's mind, and mutely prays for the day to end. He just wants home, he is too old for this. He is forty five, he wants his slippers, hot cocoa with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, not teenage heartache, ruin and restructuring parental bonds which aren't even his. When did he get like that in the first place?! He should have just neatly chopped off Endeavor's head and adopted that poor multicolored bastard.

"Yeah, just like any other fight" Izuku nods mechanically before folding his hands in front of his face. If this is at all possible his leg starts bouncing faster. Madara drags a hand through his hair. Yes, well. He has got a bad feeling of his own about what's about to go down.

***

Three minutes later Madara is very tempted to bang his head against the wall, repeatedly, preferably until he falls unconscious. This is not happening, not on this or any planet.

The fight started out fairly normally. Katsuki set of a number of well timed heavy blasts, which Izuku dodged easily. It was a tactic which wasn't difficult to see through. The blond wanted his son to fight blind, since his nitric explosions clearly resulted in more smoke than actual heat. That would roughly put them on equal footing in terms of reaction speeds and would bring down the fight to more human levels. Madara feigned calmness as fiery blasts erupted from the smoke repeatedly, but no one emerged. A stream of water jettisoned into the sky, a moment later a gnarled trunk appeared with Izuku on its tip. It was toppled in a blink of an eye. Whatever was going on in the smoke it was intense judging by the chakra output. The smoke was slowly diffusing, leaving more and more patches through which the entertainment hungry crowd followed the exchange of blows. Explosions mixed with balls of fire and water. Nitric blasts turning wood to splinters.

At some point Izuku even managed to ensnare Katsuki in a water prison, and if that wasn't impressive Madara wasn't sure what would be. Sure Katsuki blasted right out of it, seemed like his sticky sweat was far more waterproof than Izuku had anticipated, but as the fight dragged on both of them used fewer and fewer of their 'special moves'. In fact just a moment ago they were all out brawling, at least they would be if Katsuki hadn't dived, caught Izuku in the middle, tackled him to the ground, and then hollered at the top of his voice.

"YOU ARE THE FREAKING MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON ON THIS PLANET AND I LIKE YOU" all on one breath, before diving down for a kiss.

"Mashi-oonichan what are they doing?" Suga asked from the blond's shoulders. As Bakugou latched on greedily to his childhood friend, pinning both of Izuku's hands to the ground.

"Does this count as not being able to fight?" Daichi mused from where All Might held him against the railing.

Mashirao shrugged, groaned, blew a raspberry, and finally drew in a breath which one would expect from one uttering their final words, "I suppose that's what people do when they are in love and they want to show it to someone" the blond answered sagely.

Izuku's muffled yell didn't make it over Present Mic's commentary about the power of love crushing every obstacle. Aptly Izuku freed himself from the vice like grip, bit Katsuki's lip, and kicked his childhood friend off. Why couldn't Mitsuki have given birth to a normal child?! WHY?! His phone started buzzing angrily in his pocket, no doubt that insane woman is watching this. She has probably got a bunch of questions he isn't willing to answer now or ever. Why couldn't they just have a normal fight? Like Todoroki and Iida. The former froze the latter, nice, clean, easy victory. Almost, apart from the fact that Iida probably will catch a cold.

'What the hell Kacchan?' Izuku screams belows, before clapping his hands together. Thick branches ensnare Katsuki before he can get another word out of his lips. 'If you want to kiss me ask me out first!' his son yells, and Madara wants to melt into a puddle and slink away into the darkness. "Running away for three years would have been better" Madara mutters under his breath, feeling the beginning of headache coming on fast. It was a tried and true method, worked every freaking time! Izuku throws his arms up clearly surrendering his fate to a higher force in frustration before stalking off the arena. What a sh*t storm. "Inko where are you? I need help with this!" he breathes looking up at the clouds lazily crawling through the blue of the sky.

***

I am a good father. Madara runs the mantra through his head, as his son paces the room back and forth. Izuku elected to simply sit his break out in the waiting area, and perhaps out of pure spite decided that no, he isn't going to release Katsuki. Luckily Kamui Woods was gracious enough to help out with that, however he had to restrain the blond due to a hasty attempt to go after Izuku to further his cause. His son releases a loud groan and tugs at his hair, mentally trying to concoct a solution to the debacle he has unwittingly created.

"I know!" Izuku breathes, turning to face the exhausted father, "I will just use clones. If they can't find me they can't confess to me or date me, or do what Kacchan just did" Izuku says with glee. Truth be told that's the worst possible plan, since now every interested party will get a carbon copy of the original. That's just asking for disaster.

"Katsuki's actions were out of place" Madara begins but Izuku clicks his tongue, and waves him off.

"He was trying to be romantic" his son dismisses, "and it's not like it didn't feel..." Izuku waves his hand in the air awkwardly, but Madara is fairly certain what the missing word was. Then again a love confession and then being so publicly rejected, that was going to take a toll on Katsuki too. What can you do, teenage love, disaster waiting to happen.

"So what are we going to do about it?" he queries his pacing son. Mashirao has kind of vanished in the aftermath of the romance saturated battle, probably finally plucked up enough courage to go and confess to Hagakure. At least someone is going to get a happy ending.

"I am going to go out there and win" Izuku replies like a true Uchiha, and starts a gentle warm up.

***

Meanwhile, about three floors higher, a very flustered boy sheepishly scratched his cheek as his tail threatened to cut off the blood flow to his foot completely. Watching Bakugou confess so publicly stirred up gilt in his own heart. He was putting off his own confession for far too long. He was looking through Hagakure, and her cheerleading outfit which left a lot to imagination.

"So Hagakure. I just wanted to say that I really like you" he chokes out, doing his best to keep what he hopes is eye contact. His cheeks burn hot, so hot in fact he is afraid he will manifest fire release at any moment, and incinerate his happy ending on the spot. Dad did mention he has to produce a fireball if he is to be a full fledged Uchiha. "And I'd like you to go out with me. Do you accept my feelings?" he pushes the words out on one breath, before he can stutter, stammer or in any way choke on them. Something tells him Hagakure is just as flustered as he is, only she isn't quite happy.

"Umm. Uchiha", she answers, and the blond's heart seizes in his chest. This is definitely not happening, "I'd like to go out with you, but there is also someone else who has feelings for you" she whispers. Hitoshi. She means Hitoshi. She has to.

"But I don't have feelings for him!" Mashirao yells defensively, and quiets down immediately under her sharp look. "I don't have feelings for Shinsou" he whispers, and doesn't quite get why Hagakure gives him a puzzled look in response.

"Are you sure of that?" she asks playfully, "Let's strike a deal. In one month if your feelings for me haven't changed and your feelings for him haven't I will go out with you" Mashirao's heart sinks. What sort of an insane situation is this? Why must he wait a month if his heart is set.

It is!

A small pout forms on his face, as he looks down at his sneakers. Well, things were going really great for him, and sh*t usually evens out over time, so something had to get screwed up. He sighs quietly, but jolts up, when Hagakure pecks him on the cheek. "Think it over Mashirao" she laughs, before skipping down the corridor.

Unbeknown to him a small flame of hope lights in Hitoshi's chest, he has overheard the conversation. One month? Heck he will claim Mashirao's heart in a week!

***

At the same time two floor up Kirishima is very fiercely scribbling on a piece of paper. A manly heart is a life led without regret. His hands are trembling, and lips quivering, as Ashido reads over his shoulder. What?! He needs someone to double check the spelling he is too shaken up himself to do that properly! True it's no public confession, but he isn't sure he could survive an all out public rejection, and he doesn't want to ruin his friendship! Izuku is so cool and damn manly!

***

Todoroki stares at the ticking clock contemplating what in the frozen hell just happened. His father came up to him, hugged him, and said that he is proud of him. The bastard must be up to something, maybe this is some shrewd tactic to get him to use that cursed quirk of his. But he isn't stupid, not by a long shot, he isn't going to use his father's fire. There is also that other matter. That living dynamite stick confessed, and with quite a flair.

"What do I do about that?" he queries the cool air. There is just the faintest imprint of Uchiha's warmth on his skin when he caught the green headed, sandal wearing boy in the corridor. Izuku tripped and fell right into his arms. His small frame felt so nice hugged against his chest. Todoroki swore his heart must have given him away back then. Izuku smelled of sweat, but under that was just the faintest hint of mint, probably left over shampoo. What he would have given to bury his nose in these lengthy, forest green locks.

"I am screwed" he mumbles, realizing that he is going to have to go out there and face him as an opponent. And by what he had already seen Izuku is no small fry, he deserves to be in the final. He grits his teeth wondering what the next fifteen minutes of his life will bring. But no matter what happens, he came to UA to be the number one and he will fight to prove it.

Chapter 26: Hear my roar

Chapter Text

"Is this what will happen?" Enji panted from the ground. Madara looked down at the hero. This was a more acceptable position for famed number 2, on the ground, practically licking his boots. Only this time he didn't send esteemed Endeavor to the dirt for his own benefit. The hot trail of bloody tear marred his cheek.

Madara sighed, he hasn't used Tsukuyomi in a long while, "Not necessarily, but you remember what happened to Toya" he answered lightly, and wiped the blood with his glove.

Todoroki nodded. His whole frame was shaking, and his head no doubt swimming. The technique was bruising for the psyche, but if Madara was certain about anything it was that Enji was heardheaded and only a proper amount of force would break through that thick skull. So he applied it, for Shouto's case. In his years of work, he had learned more than enough about who hid behind various names. Because names give people power. The Red Inspector was someone that villains feared beyond any rational understanding, his name sent them running. The Hokage was still nobody. But in all worlds Madara Uchiha was someone truly feared.

Todoroki heaved again, and finally puked. To be fair he showed him Toya's descent into darkness, and later insanity only instead of that poor soul he placed Shouto. He made Endeavor witness it until all the hero could do was scream in helplessness, raking his nails across his face until all that was left was a bloodied mess. "Do not make the same mistake again, or I will come back for you" he warns, taking a step back before the greenish sludge could spill on his feet, he is wearing sandals after all.

Endeavor coughs, his fires put out by the sudden crash against a reality he hadn't seen coming. "Children aren't soldiers. They are our future not playthings" he spits before turning around, and walking back into the corridor.

***

The conversation stays with him, together with the promise he gave his newborn son as he cradled him to his chest. The words circle him, ones he would have never said in his previous life, mottos he would scoff at became his favored sayings and lessons he taught. In a way it was ironic, Hashirama would surely laugh himself stupid, not only over his shift in world view of course. As soon as Izuku was out the doors, he rushed upstairs, skipping whole flights of stairs on his way. This fight he wanted to see from up high. There was no doubt Izuku was going to go all out, and probably force Todoroki to do just the same.

A few moments later he is surprised to find Todoroki Enji standing right by his favorite on-the-brink-of-death client, Toshinori Yagi. The man's flames are out, and as he sees Madara he gives him just the faintest nod of acknowledgment. His lips were pressed together in a tight grimace, and perhaps he would look menacing if not for the grinning boy sitting on his shoulders. Daichi seems far happier not having to constantly pat down black spikes. The man is gazing down at the arena with a ferocious intensity of a beast ready to strike, like it was the two of them who are about to fight not their sons walking out onto the concrete battlefield. Madara folds his hands in front of his chest, and turns to watch the spectacle below. The audience is strangely silent, entranced by the commentary taking their senses by storm. For some reason Madara feels his mouth dry up, anticipation builds up in his chest, just like all the times before he was to face a truly strong opponent. Izuku's face is set, as his green eyes pierce Todoroki, and a moment later they turn red, with three black drops swirling slowly in their enchanting dance.

Air seemed to have been sucked out of his lungs when the boys bowed to one another.

And then the fight started.

A mountain of ice erupted from Todoroki's right flooding the stadium with an icy wind. It slashed at Madara's face like a hungry hawk. Izuku danced around it, fast and nimble, missing every shard, every spike by hardly hair's breadth. Endeavor's son didn't waste a second, he was trained, through ruthlessness and anger, forged into an ice cold spear. Another barrage of ice was thrown up, this time Izuku didn't jump away from the challenge. He slammed his hands together, and thick roots burst from the ground ready to bid his command, and shatter the icebergs into the tiniest of crystals. For a few breathtaking moments unstoppable forces sparred, one matching the other, Todoroki launching attack after attack, even as his whole side started frosting over in tiny spikes of crystal ice. Izuku met him blow for blow, shattering or melting the ice, covering the arena in a thick coat of water.

"Why isn't he using his fire?" Madara asked, turning to look at Endeavor. The man's face was shaking, trembling even. It dawned on Madara that this might be the first time he was seeing his son's quirk at full power. They both knew the young boy's goal, to become the number one hero without using his father's power. A goal born of selfish desire for revenge. and envy.

Suddenly the fight stopped, both boys panting, ankles deep in the water, and yet either too tired to take advantage of the fact.

"WHY AREN'T YOU USING FIRE?!" Izuku's voice tore through the cheers of the crowd. It was hardly audible, and yet it iced over Madara's blood. Silence settled over the stadium, everyone held their breath waiting for the answer.

"I WILL NEVER USE MY FATHER'S POWER!" Todoroki bellowed back. His hardened face was covered in sweat, despite the patch of ice which crawled its way up his neck. He was almost bent in half, struggling to stand upright.

"AND WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN SOMEONE WILL DIE BECAUSE YOU WON'T USE IT?" his son screeched before folding the Tiger seal. Fire tore forth from his throat, its white ferocity obliterating anything in its path until meeting ice crystal and pure.

"I WILL NOT FAIL! I WILL BECOME THE BEST WITHOUT HIS POWER!" Todoroki yelled with fresh tears gathering in his eyes.

"YOU IDIOT! IT IS YOU POWER! HOW DARE YOU TOY WITH THE LIVES OF PEOPLE YOU SWEAR TO PROTECT YOU SELFISH IDIOT!" Izuku screamed.

Madara watched the stadium transfixed, even when Endeavor drew in a loud breath he couldn't stop from admiring the range of emotions which flickered across the normally blank face. He knew the look, the complete bafflement of being faced with reality as it is. He had it on his face more than once, especially when Hashirama ran him through with a sword. Only now Shouto was realizing how much all that he was sure of didn't make sense. His reality was collapsing. That left the question of what he is going to do now.

A speck of flame danced around the left side of Shouto's face, and moments later it blew up, inflated into a ragged flame which spread and consumed his uniform. His eyes brightened with purpose, and will which wasn't there before. A strangled sound escaped Endeavor's throat, something which sounded an awful lot like a choked back sob.

"Thank you" Madara read the boy's lips. His eyes widened as the Sharingan spread the fractals of reality before him. But this time he wouldn't stop it, he couldn't for the sake of Izuku and Shouto equally he had to allow them to fight this out. His hands clenched around the guardrails so hard his knuckles turned white. That boy was going to...

"Madara this boy is insane", Yagi says watching Todoroki go ballistic or maybe explosive. With the amount of pure heat generated by the quirk it's almost impossible to tell if one does not have a Sharingan. On the other end of the field panting with exertion is little Izuku Uchiha, a boy who he just witnessed saving Todoroki from himself, and as a father and a hero he couldn't have been more proud.

"He gets it from my side of the family" Madara mutters, a gleeful, terrifying smile already spreading across his face, as he watches the seven seals being folded. This is going to be the ultimate face off, two unrivaled powers are about to collide. A technique only the most powerful of their clan have ever mastered will be unveiled in its full glory.

A cloud of superheated water vapor condenses around the mismatched teen, as Izuku takes a deep breath. Oh my, what a delightful spectacle of monstrosities! "JESUS CHRIST! STOP THE MATCH!!!!" Present Mic screams commentary, as Izuku drops on all fours. Yes, this technique, it has quite a kick to it. Instantaneously concrete walls erupt from the arena separating the boys as Midnight tares her costume off. Yagi flinches seeing the horrifying smile on Madara's face. But the boys are seeing none of it, consumed by their world filled with clashing wills. A thundering explosion echoes through the stadium when Todoroki finally releases his attack, Izuku spits out an ocean of flame, a gargantuan ball of flame. Cementoss's walls don't really stand a chance against such a barrage, obliterated as incomprehensible forces batter, grinding the barriers into dust. Madara starts cackling madly, as smoke and dust fill the stadium. His laughter comes to a shrill crescendo, echoing in dead silence of the stunned audience, as the wind finally sweeps the smoke away, revealing little Izuku pressed into the wall, completely out cold, and Todoroki heaving, half of his suit burned off. Endeavor huffs smugly from besides them, as Madara ceases laughing. But the smile, the smile that breads nightmares is still on his lips. The proctors of the competition are horror struck, standing amidst what looks like ground zero to an atomic blast, the arena torn to near shreds.

Slowly Midnight raises her hand, "Todoroki-", she calls and cuts off mid verdict, as the boy pressed into the wall suddenly starts to deflate and shrivel, his skin turning into charred wood.

"What the-", Endeavor says, but doesn't get to finish. Madara watches his son, burst out from under a layer of concrete. His cheeks are singed, and his knuckles and hands are raw and bleeding. There is a hoarse cry on his lips as the shorter boy's fist collides with Todoroki's chin with a force that would spell knockout if they didn't know how resilient the mismatched kid was. Todoroki stumbles back, evidently shocked to be seeing his opponent practically raise from the dead.

"Yes! Yes! Fight me!" Izuku cries flipping back. Watching his son drunk on the bloody juice of battle feels almost like seeing his younger self. The boy's hands turn into a blur. Boar, Dog, Snake. Wood Release! After all this?! His son rolls away from a wave of fire before thick roots erupted from the ground, wrapping themselves around Todorki, even as the boy explodes an apocalypse of ice and fire. The wood that is burned away regrows at impressive rates. With a cry Shouto obliterates Izuku's attack throwing the boy back. His son's back hits a piece of rubble over which he vaults immediately to avoid near decapitating barrage of ice. For a moment Madara considers stepping in, but then his eyes fall on Endeavor, the man is glaring at his son. And so he waits, one thing he is certain of, Izuku can do it. Because as ridiculous as it sounds coming from him, good can win. The rails wail under his hands.

57 seals, folded so fast, that it looks like Izuku's hands have glued together. Water fizzles out of nothing around his son. Endeavor laughs weakly, as Madara blanks. He didn't teach him that! He didn't see Izuku practice this! For a moment it doesn't make sense, as he watches the liquid materialize and take a shape a rushing column of water shooting up into the sky. But then again, there were many Izuku's last week. The hero smiles to himself.

"Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet!" Izuku hollers, and a split second later a roar, unlike any living beast could utter pierces the air. It thunders like a lighting god's tempest against the trembling walls of the coliseum below. Izuku standing atop the dragon's head releases the last seal, sending the beast hurdling towards his opponent. Shouto frantically tries summoning enough fire and ice at the same time to evaporate or freeze the attack. But what can be done against an ocean of rage? Madara is well aware of his son's potential, of the absurd amount of chakra flowing through his body, now pouring out in a second vicious technique in under a minute. Just what is the boy's upper limit? How much longer until he surpasses Madara, and soon later Hashirama. In barely moments Todoroki is washed clean out of bounds.

Then again 57 seals, they will have to work on it. And perhaps it's time to finally move towards helping the boy find his own style. Izuku falls to his knees, and Madara turns to flash a devious grin at the slack jawed heroes standing right next to him. "Now you see Endeavor, it's exactly like I told you" he almost laughs.

Chapter 27: Omissions

Chapter Text

"Are you kidding?" Mashirao breathes, his eyes bulging at the commotion below. A column of water rises into the sky, seemingly summoned out of nowhere. What sort of monsters did he get adopted by? Are they for real?! His tail wags nervously, as the titanic force actually blocks out the sun, casting a long shadow across the concrete arena. Atop it stands one ecstatic younger brother of his with a rapey smile befitting their father. A screech which could certainly only be emitted by a dragon rips through the air like a knife through paper before the mountain of water belches out a bullet, and dives right after it. He can't tare his eyes away from the spectacle. Veins of ice rush up the dragon's body, but Todoroki is out of his depth against something this powerful. The mismatched guy ends up washed clean out of bounds, a miracle he didn't drown to be honest. Meanwhile Izuku stands in the center of the arena, with a smile of a psychopath who forgot his medication.

Captivated he almost misses the soft bump of a shoulder against his own. His eyes snap to whoever invaded his personal space, he would be more than happy to see nothing but a uniform floating around, instead he is met by a pair of purple eyes which spell nothing but trouble. Irritation flares up in his chest seeing it's the reason why he is rejected that's bugging him.

"You Uchiha really are something else" Hitoshi whispers into his ear, and Mashirao jolts away. Not that he doesn't like closeness, he doesn't mind, simply it's Hitoshi. The guy has got a mountainous crush on him! And Tooru is sitting right behind them, he has to prove he is not interested in that insomniac bastard! And boys in general for that matter.

"What do you want?" he huffs, annoyed with the fact that Hitoshi shifts closer instead of backing off like any decent human being. Mashirao has half the mind to swat him upside that stupid spiked head when a cup of what smells like tea is pushed under his nose. "What's that?" he snaps eying the green liquid carefully. A matching paper cup is sitting in Hitoshi's other hand.

"Just some iced tea. You know it got quite hot. You should stay hydrated" Hitoshi replies innocently. Mashirao glares for a moment at the tea, as though he expects the ice cubes to actually melt under the sharp look.

"Thanks. I am not thirsty" he deadpans, and takes another step to the side. He is slowly running out of space, but if he has to he will hang from the stands by his tail if it allows him to avoid that purposely incredulous cretin. After all Hitoshi can't follow him there. Hang on... the bastard can walk on freaking walls! Mashirao grits his teeth, as Hitoshi smirks down at him, what he wouldn't give for an extra dozen of centimeters now.

"Well, I guess Hagakure will just have to drink your share. I bought one for each of us" the purple haired, genjutsu wielding, annoying brat replies. How the hell does he manage to play on his nerves like that?! Mashirao tries to take a steadying breath when Hitoshi shrugs nonchalantly. The cup is extended once again, held in Hitoshi's long slender fingers it almost feels like he is extending an apology. Mashirao only wishes to know what that bastard is trying to apologize for, apart from ruining his confession! With an angry grunt he swipes the cup and turns watch Izuku shift back into his own 'sunshine form'. Muttering a swear under his breath he takes a gulp, and tries not to hum in delighted surprise. That really is some good iced tea.

"Told you it was really good" Hitoshi smiles down at him, in a weird radiant way which makes Mashirao's anger wilt a little. That still doesn't mean he is less pissed about why he got rejected! Only that he isn't going to take it out on his... friend now! He glances over his shoulder at Tooru who raises her cup a little in quiet celebration. Well it certainly is going to be quite a party at home today.

***

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Hashirama screeched seeing the monstrous watery beast plummet straight at Shouto Todoroki. It took him a whole break, but he managed to scrape together a banner which spelled IZUKU UCHIHA FOR THE WIN. Which he was waving like a mad man, nearly dancing with joy. Who would know an Uchiha could pull something like that off! Tobirama would be proud! heck! He would mentor the ever loving f*ck right out of that kid. "YOU GO BOY!" the shinobi screamed, before an annoyed lady pulled him back into his seat. How was he not to be excited?! Before the match he snooped around a little, and in one of the more secluded stalls even managed to find a poor copy of the headband currently protecting little Izuku's forehead. He got four at the price of three!

Incapable of staying still Hashirama leaned over the railings to get a better look at the boy, standing in the middle of the arena with a frenzied smile on his face. Oooooh! Hashirama's heart swelled. He took after his papa! A wobbly smile spread over the shinobi's face, as he cheered once again, his voice breaking through the silence of the stunned stadium. He roared praise at the top of his lungs, because why wouldn't he? That was freaking fantastic! Tobirama is going to be so happy when he finds out that Madara is here, well maybe not happy, but he will certainly have strong feelings about it. A moment later the crowd bursts into a frenzy, dancing and stomping, yelling at the top of their lungs as though they had just witnessed something utterly impossible. As for Hashirama, even if the boy doesn't drop by the cafe something tells him their paths are bound to cross again!

***

"Are you for real?" - Famous last words of Shouto Todoroki witnessing a giant water snake with a sad*stic angel on top heading straight for him.

***

"Motherf*cker" Katsuki breathes, watching Izuku sweep Todoroki clean out of bounds and turn half of the arena into a lake. He knew Izuku is strong, he knew about the fireballs, about the land walls, about the water jets and trees growing at his call. But this? This is beyond anything real! How can anyone stand up to this?! Katsuki gulps watching Izuku heaving, raising his hand high into the air. "I am going to marry that Motherf*cker" he promises to no one in particular except for himself. Izuku's smile looks a little psychotic, but that must be just the f*cking aftereffects of whatever the unholy f*ck this water dick was. Serves half and half bastard right.

"Eat a dick half-n-half" he mutters with a sincere, even if deranged, smile.

Katsuki smirks to himself, he is confident there is an invite to the celebration that will follow such a majestic win. Most likely uncle Madara will make some sort of a roast. The Uchiha are good with the fire after all. There just remains one problem, he messed up, and somehow he must apologize to his favorite nerd. His eyes circle the stadium, and he spots a single man yelling at the top of his lungs, jumping like a sh*theaded drunk baboon. He is holding a large flag, and that just might be some sort of an idea.

***

"Kami! Kami! He is amazing!" Kirishima chatters, shaking his friend until the blond haired boy turns green. The redhead is bouncing in place. The letter is stashed away safely in his pocket, a token he is sure to slip into Izuku's shoe locker on his way out. His heart hammers with fright at the prospect, but a manly heart is a life led without regret! And be he damned if he doesn't lead his that way.

***

"Oh gods I am dead" Izuku whines from the bath. That last fight was insane, what the heck is Todoroki made of to be capable of repelling so many of his jutsus? Is he human at all? His whole body feels weak, like he had just run a dozen marathons or something. His bones are made of lead and blood of sludge. Whatever problems of the heart variety he has, they can weight, at least till Monday when they are back at school. That gives him two whole days to meditate on what he is to do about his 'friends'. With a groan he slumps into the water, until just his nose and eyes stick out. The towel sits folded on his head. Mashirao seems deep in thought, and Hitoshi has that shrewd look on his face once again. It's kind of like a cat is watching a very beefy mouse. His brother sits with his side to him, the tail floating lazily on the surface. They might want to figure out a more comfortable seating for him. For now he hasn't even properly met Mom, let alone been introduced to the Uchiha rite of passage. Well Mashirao knew she wasn't in the picture, but he hadn't been to the grave yet. Izuku huffs quietly producing a bunch of bubbles, looks like this will be a busy weekend. He recalls the card still resting in his wallet, he would really like to drop by Hosu, and see the mysterious owner of the cafe, his first fan none the less. Even if the guy is some kind of a psycho than it's not like he can't handle it.

"Cut it out" Mashirao snaps at Hitoshi, his cheeks are red, flushed to be precise, more so than they would be from just a bath.

"Stop what?" Hitoshi waggles his eyebrows. Izuku releases a breath which bubbles to the surface. His purple haired friend really did take his advice, and he isn't holding back anything it seems. It must be karma. He meddled and now that old lady is going to rip him apart.

"You know what?! I said no once" Mashiro retorts sternly, before sitting more upright. If he wasn't so tired he would perhaps activate the Sharingan just to look what was going on underwater. Even if the two of them weren't sitting on the other sides of the pool Izuku has a feeling Hitoshi is really doing everything to 'flip' his brother. Izuku isn't sure whether it will work, and besides Mashirao is after Hagakure, but it's always worth fighting for the people you love. If only Hitoshi could do it after dinner...

"Don't worry. I am staying the night" Hitoshi winks, and Izuku suddenly really wishes he had any idea how to disappear into thin air. Mashirao looks on the verge of yelling, his meditating, patient, calm, and rather laid back brother is on the very cusp of throwing a hissy fit. It would have been entertaining if it wouldn't backfire spectacularly in Hitoshi's face, so with a low huff of indignation Izuku intercedes before Mashirao decides that a naked brawl with a very interested genjutsu expert is anything near a good idea.

"What do I do about Kacchan?" he asks the two of them. He is answered by a puzzled glance and a worried look.

"Well do you like him?" Mashirao queries shifting to get a better look at him. Izuku feels his cheeks burning at the question. Does he like Kacchan, sure, as a friend certainly. But the more he thinks about it the less he gets it. They hug, hangout, fall asleep together, they haven't kissed, but then again he doesn't think that's what love is like. There is none of that 'longing', soulmate thing, or any of that lighting his father talked about.

"He is my best friend" Izuku admits unwillingly. He doesn't really like picking favorites. Katsuki is strong and relentless, and he had admired him for that his whole life, because whenever he faltered Kacchan reminded him of what it is to stand firm. Even in their last fight he did that for him. His cheeks color further as he remembers the firm slam of Katsuki's soft lips against his own. His heart is hammering with embarrassment. What the hell?! "Though we do an awful lot of hugging" he mumbles, rubbing his chin and staring at the water as though it would help his pondering. He misses the cheeky grin Hitoshi directs at his brother, and later ignores the wet splat of Mashirao's fluff against Hitoshi's face. Oh what a pickle.

***

"So what exactly are we watching for?" Itachi queries, flipping the page. A pair of mother and son are quarreling below over what looks like a battered old beatbox. He isn't going to pretend he understands why and to what end.

"We are making sure he is up to something evil" Tobirama whispers from his own branch. He has binoculars stuck to his face, and watches intently the kitchen where Madara Uchiha, Itachi is fairly certain that's the one, is busy dancing around the kitchen with a giddy smile and a roasted hog. Well his son did win the UA Sports Festival, and two of his pupils did make it into the final rounds. Speaking of, he kind of recognizes the blond below, they had to chain him up on the podium, and even All Might was a little uneasy with putting a medal over his head. There was also this other kid, glasses, and dark hair. Iida. Right that's the name who took third place next to him.

"I am certain he is. That pig must be stuffed with explosive tags, or it's just a ritual to perform a terrible, dark and forbidden jutsu" he deadpans, and reaches into his backpack to retrieve a small thermos filled with coffee. The fact that he is sitting here does not mean he has to abandon the pleasures of life.

"You could skip out on the sass. I've known him much longer than you" Tobirama quips and gives him a freezing look. Itachi isn't bothered, he has got coffee! He hums noncommittally and flips the page. Wittgenstein isn't going to read himself after all, and he is certain Madara isn't worse than that old hag. Why did he pick philosophy in the first place? He wanted to learn more about this world, and he had a knack for the whole good vs evil from the start. A few moments later a green haired boy comes charging into the kitchen to help with the huge platter, but ends up only getting to carry the salad. Ah, that must be little Izuku, one which made Tobirama spew coffee all over the counter when he saw that Water Release.

"Is this f*cking thing on" a magnified voice sounds below. Itachi peeks out to watch the blond poke at the mike attached to the speakers. Tobirama's phone buzzes, but they both ignore it in favor of watching whatever this is going to turn into. "NERD!" the boy with apparent emotional constipation yells, a loud whack echoes as his mother signals the mishap in the introduction.

"IZUKU!" the boy yells, and a moment later the doors to the house open to reveal the short green haired shinobi in the making, a boy with a tail hoisted over his shoulder standing behind him, and an impressive scowl which looks very out of place, and Madara Uchiha with a friendly smile plastered to his face. It's so fake that Itachi wonders how the heck it manages to stay on. "I AM SO, SO, SO, f*ckING SORRY!" Whack. "f*cking stupid woman". Whack. Well that's one way to communicate nonverbally in an effective way. Tobirama might feel right at home with the family below it seems. Itachi muses before taking a sip from the cup. He really could do with something sweet to go with the coffee. It almost feels like the good old Anbu days, minus the needless killing. He always like the stakeouts, though, Shisui was always fun to have around during them.

"CAN I f*ckING HAVE A WORD WITH YOU?" the greenhaired boy seems hesitant at best. And it's only then that Madara's facade cracks for just a moment, revealing how truly pissed of he is.

"Fine maybe there is sitll some darkness lingering" Itachi concedes under his breath. Tobirama grunts an affirmative. "Or he is a concerned parent" he adds and listens to his 'uncle' growl.

"Please" It seems that the blond isn't used to the word since it comes out choked and a little desperate and stops the boy about to retreat in his tracks. The family shares a few words, before the blond claps a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, and Madara ruffles his hair. The former villain still wears it long, all the way to his waist. The two of them retreat into the house, waving the woman in. That leaves the blond haired piece of work and Izuku on the porch. Itachi looses interest in their talk, he never really got the thing about romance in the first place. There were more important issues in the land of fire, and here, it's kind of an instinct not to get too caught up in it. With a sigh he observes the green head give a wobbly smile. They chat for a couple of minutes before sharing a hug. The blond makes to retreat, but Izuku grips his wrist and tugs him into the house.

Meanwhile Madara is plating dinner, and Itachi feels his own mouth water. In the land of fire he never worked up an appetite due to his illness, here it felt like he was constantly hungry, making up for all the missed opportunities by snacking on everything he can get his hands on. And this succulent roasted pig below looks plain delicious.

"So you are still convinced he is pure evil?" Itachi queries and looks up at the older man. Tobirama's face is set, and his lips are pressed tightly together in the manner which he gets when setting up an especially shrewd and convoluted strategy during their regular shogi matches. Currently the balance is minimally in Itachi's favor.

"We will need more observation" he finally answers with an air of suspicion.

Itachi sighs, and rolls his eyes. He feels sore from sitting in this stupid tree for the last three hours, and he is getting cold. He wants to go and take a nap, and read in a more comfortable surrounding. "He has no reason to be evil here. He has a family for crying out loud, and two sons, and a student" he counts with his fingers. What more is Tobirama expecting?! In all honesty this is getting irritating. How can the Second Hokage be so blind to the fact that people can change their ways. Didn't he work with Uchihas who didn't succumb to the curse of hatred? "I am going home. Hashirama must have arrived by now. See you there" he mutters and climbs down. Doing that without chakra is really difficult and frankly speaking a hustle. But if Madara sensed him Tobirama would be more than pissed off.

***

"Kids" Tobirama grumbles under his breath, as he watches the younger man climb down. Still he is a little fond of Itachi. He makes for better company than his annoying brother or constantly brooding Zabuza. His phone buzzes again, it's the second time in a couple of minutes, which must mean it's Hashirama. Wherever he disappeared off to he is going to get dishes duty, as a reward for skipping work. With a quick swipe of his thumb he unlocks the device, and leans back on the trunk. It's not like Madara can actually end the world in the thirty seconds it takes him to read the messages. However when he opens the app he nearly drops the phone. His cheeks flush bright red, and breath seems lodged in his throat, as his eyes take stock of something he didn't quite expect.

Staring at him from a screen, with a co*cky grin, shirtless and sweaty is Tensei. There is a bandage wrapped around his shoulder, his hair is damp. In one hand he is holding the phone, while the other flexes displaying a bicep which the shinobi grew quite fond of. Tobirama suddenly regrets the young Uchiha left together with his thermos of coffee, because he is parched!

"Oh god" he squeaks, and reads the next message.

'Like what you see?' his cheeks threaten to catch fire, and he himself feels more than inclined to spontaneously combust. What the heck is this?!

***

"Brother, Mother calls for dinner" Tenya yells, barging into the gym. His brother is on the phone, and there is a weird smile on his face. In fact it looks like he is kind of glowing, much like Bakugou-kun when he is talking about Uchiha-kun, the smaller one of course. Tenya quirks an eyebrow, and is about to yell again, when Tensei looks up at him.

"Heard you the first time bro. I'll get changed and be right downstairs"

Tenya doesn't understand why his brother took nearly fifteen minutes to get changed, and what it has to do with a very proud and devious smile he is sporting. He isn't sure that it's anything proper for a hero, let alone a human being that his brother must have conducted in that time.

***

"Hitoshi, get back to your futon" Mashirao snaps quietly when he feels the mattress of his bed dip. It's not that he isn't accustomed to sharing one, he had plenty of times, and he can get comfortable anywhere, but he particularly doesn't want to share it with Hitoshi Shinsou. Why? Well he is still chewing on that rejection and the weird sort of delay that Hagakure set out for him. On top of that Hitoshi is blatantly coming on to him. He isn't even pretending not to be. He freaking tried to play footsie with him in the bath!

"No" the insomniac replies blatantly and triumphantly. Mashirao meanwhile starts to understand how Bakugou can feel like choking the living sh*t out of everyone at all time.

"Get out" he hisses into the darkness and turns his back to Hitoshi. He is on the verge of actually throwing him out with his tail.

"Can't sleep there" Mashirao feels a warm breath on his neck, and heavy weight settle against his additional appendage, and nearly jumps out of his skin. Ok, that's enough! He flips onto his side, to see purple eyes shining with mischief in the moonlight sneaking in through the window. Hitoshi has his hair down, and it falls in his eyes, pools around his head in a purple halo. Suddenly the idea of throwing him out onto the floor doesn't seem so tempting. The eyebags might not be visible in the dark, but Mashirao knows they are there, and it really seems like his annoying ass of a friend could get a decent night's sleep. He huffs tiredly, before replying. "Fine, just look. Can we talk for a moment?"

"Sure. Want to get something off your chest?" Hitoshi queries. He sounds earnest, and maybe that and exhaustion birthed by today's events loosens Mashirao's tongue just a tad.

"Hagakure rejected me" he blurts, and wonders what his friend will make of it. Probably another chance to come on even stronger.

"I'm sorry" Hitoshi answers softly. Mashirao half expects a hug, or some other comforting-intrusive touch, but it doesn't come. Instead silence falls between them.

"She thinks I have feelings for you. But I am not gay, or bi, or interested in guys you know?" he mutters, feeling sleep creep up on him.

"Yeah. You told me that a couple of times" Hitoshi is so close Mashirao can smell the mint of toothpaste on his breath. His tail twitches nervously when he feels the pillow dip a little, "It's kind of bad luck for me, ain't it" Hitoshi mutters. His voice sounds distant, and dim, almost like he was talking through a wad of cotton. The world grows warm, and dulls out slowly as Mashirao's eyes flicker shut.

"The thing is I am not sure you believe it" Hitoshi says, before he drifts off completely.

Left in the dark Hitoshi smiles down at Mashirao. He looks so peaceful when he is asleep, well he always looks peaceful and relaxed. It's funny how easily he told him about the rejection. But the hightlight of the evening isn't the dinner, or pissing Mashirao off in the bath. It's the fact that currently laying so close they are practically touching a tail is wrapped around his ankle. Not thinking much of it Hitoshi snuggles closer, and buries his face in the soft pajama covering Mashirao's wide chest. What? The fact that he is taller doesn't automatically mean he has to be the bigger spoon! However when a leg is swung over his hip pinning him in place, and a pair of arms cage him his breath hitches. Well he might not get much sleep tonight, but it's definitely worth it!

***

Izuku is running the razor over his cheek, when he hears a loud crash coming from his brother's room. Then another, and one more.

"I am going to rip your legs off and stuff them up your ass!" that's definitely Mashirao's voice, only the message doesn't really match the cool as a cucumber vibe his brother has got going for him.

"To be fair you were the one who started it!" Hitoshi retorts with triumph. Izuku continues the shave, no reason to stop, Hitoshi seems to have everything under control, if one can call enraging the most zen guy in the class as 'under control'. "And you didn't kick me out of your bed!" the insomniac retorts. There is a sound of a fist colliding with a face, and a thud of a body falling to the ground, before Mashirao walks past the open doors of the bathroom, with what seems to be a storm cloud trailing past him. Aren't they off to a good start today. Dad promised yesterday at dinner to take them to see Konoha Agency, and Izuku wonders how the two of them will survive working as a team.

"Mashirao you can't just punch your problems out!" Hitoshi walks past the bathroom doors as Izuku is finishing up his chin. There is spectacular shiner on his face. Well love is a painful thing.

"Don't you dare use my given name!" Mashirao yells. Izuku rinses off the razor, and pats his cheeks making sure that no stray hair hid from certain doom. Here is to a day without Kacchan, Shoucchan and Eichan. Even if he managed to buy himself some time with the former he doesn't quite want to see him today.

"Dad! How dare you take his side!" Mashirao yells once more evidently offended by something Papa said. Izuku smiles to himself, after all he did his damn best motivating Hitoshi, on second thought he might have overdone it just a little.

***

The four of them are sitting on the train speeding like a bullet towards Hosu. Mashirao is pointedly looking out the window, undoubtedly admiring the monotonous scenery zipping past them. Meanwhile Hitoshi, with a spectacular bruise covering his eye is grinning like a fool. His hand is stretched a little, since apparently in an effort to force them into getting along Dad decided to handcuff them together. He called it their get-along-shirt. Papa is reading the news, or swiping through the cat blog, and Izuku is busy pondering what to do about his three heartaches.

"Uchiha-san!" a warm voice pulls all four of them from their thoughts. A tall man with a muscular build and two exhausts protruding from his elbows stands right by their seats. He has an excited smile and navy eyes and hair which look just like Tenya's.

"Hello Iida" his father replies with a faint nod. Hang on! That's Ingenium Tenya's older brother. Izuku's eyes widen as he takes in the hero. He isn't wearing the panzer costume but the mighty stance is still present, and the way he carries himself speaks of all the battles he had conducted. Navy eyes glance around them until they fall on the metal handcuffs tying Mashirao and Hitoshi. Dad seems to sense the man's inquisitive look, because he replies before Iida can even ask.

"They weren't getting along, and they will be working together so I figured it would be nice to fix that" he stresses the last part of the sentence, and Hitoshi snuggles closer to Mashirao who makes a noise which can be vaguely interpreted as murderous intent.

"I see" Tensei laughs awkwardly. "Anyway what's brining you to Hosu?" he queries changing topics before Mashirao actually chooses to decapitate Hitoshi. Izuku isn't sure the latter has any self-preservation instinct judging by what he is doing. However neither might his brother because his cheeks are as red as cherries.

"I want to show the boys Konoha, and take a stroll around our future patrol routes" Madara hums, pocketing his phone. "What about you?" his father queries back. It dawns on Izuku that despite a good fifteen years of difference these two might actually be friends. He never actually met them, though he had his suspicions as to whom his father might have befriended judging by his line of work.

"Oh! I have a date" the man laughs, and jabs his thumb at his chest. He is wearing a nice plaid shirt, and gray slacks. Dad quirks an eyebrow at that.

"A date you say? Who is she?" he asks, and the hero visibly tenses. Him too?! Izuku's jaw is about to drop, when his father amends "He" There is a very visible spark of interest in his dad's eyes. He surely had known, so why is he asking?

"Oh. A barista. He has got these ridiculously pretty cedar eyes you know" Iida blushes, and rubs the back of his head.

Iida ends up joining them for the rest of the ride, but they quickly change topics from the mystery cedar eyed guy Iida is dating. Izuku wonders if Tenya actually knows that his brother is dating someone. He should know, but something keeps telling him he isn't aware of it. Iida tells them about his fight with Stain and the mystery savior who appeared out of thin air only to blow the alley clean with a roaring column of water. Now that sounds like quite a powerful quirk.

***

Madara Uchiha has always had an impressive way with lies. Though to be honest he prefers omissions, far more delicate than lies and not really lies in the first place. As such he has mastered them throughout his life. For example he told his sons that today they are going to see Hosu because he wants them to see the agency. That was in some part true. However there was much more pressing business to attend to. One which currently was laid out in a neat little file stamped TOP SECRET sitting in front of him. A warmly smiling man with graying hair and a monocle, wearing a military uniform in the rank of a general was sitting on the other end. The military had tried recruiting him for years, and like always he ended up doing odd jobs for them. This one was no different even if the scale was a little surprising. It turns out that a nice little terrorist organization has taken over an island on the Pacific, one where a good deal of American rockets was sitting. Next to the general sat another man, a gaijin wearing a black suit, and matching glasses. Madara was half expecting him to whip out that gizmo that flashes and you forget everything. He carded through the briefing once again, before slipping off his glasses and looking at the two men. General Hasegawa had a light smile, while to foreigner was seemed less than content. To be fair the Americans would have happily bombed the hell out of that island if their planes could reach it without being shot down.

Madara released an exhausted sigh. How much should he ask for such a job? One billion yen? Ten billion? He ran through the calculations, they were most likely sitting on at least a hundred land to air rockets and at least a dozen intercontinental missiles. So... Five. Now it's just the question of whether the shrewd general before him is actually asking what he thinks he is asking.

"You are not requesting what you think I am?" Madara asks inclining his chin and folding his hands in front of his face. His red eyes pierce the man sitting on the other side of the table with wariness. The military was bound to find out about him testing that power, even if he did it only once.

"The Tengai Shinsei" the general replies cordially, lacing his fingers together in a mirror gesture.

"The Apocalypse no Jutsu" Madara hums, he tries suppressing the delighted smile which threatens to overtake his face. His whole body is positively throbbing with excitement.

"Indeed Uchiha-sama" Hasegawa beams, "Just name your price"

Madara reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk. He presses his thumb to the lock, and it clicks open. He only stores the most special kinds of agreements in there. You could call it his deluxe offer. "Five million dollars, coverage of operation costs. You leave my students alone and a major bump in the hero ranking" he smiles, and watches the American's face twitch. The gaijin is about to say something when a razor sharp look from the general silences him.

"How major?" Hasegawa queries, as he reaches for the paper which Madara placed on the desk.

"Oh I am certain you will come up with something adequate" he grins, as the fountain pen scrapes across the page.

***

Hitoshi had dragged Mashirao god only knows where to. So Izuku was left with not much to do. For half an hour he walked through the busy streets of Hosu. Who would think this is the hunting ground of the Hero Killer Stain. He hummed pensively, stuffing his hands into his pockets. As he did so his finger caught on a particularly hard piece of paper. Frowning he pulled out a small calling card.

"Ho Cafe" he read. Oh of course! A smile light up his face as he remembered the peculiar man from yesterday. Without further delay he typed the address into his phone, and a couple of minutes later found himself standing in front of narrow glass doors. The sign hung on them read 'Open', and above the doors hung a decorative kanji carved into wood. Izuku peeked inside, there were a couple of clients mostly businessmen on break, the counter was manned by the same guy who had the camera. So he really did work here! With a giddy smile on his face Izuku pushed the doors open. The place was small, but it was really well decorated, emanating with an earthly atmosphere.

"You came!" the man from behind the counter called excitedly, throwing Izuku a blinding smile.

"Of course I did, how could I forget my first fan" Izuku grins back, after striding over to the counter. He is bouncing on his feet with excitement now, he reads the small silver placket pinned to the man's chest. Hashirama. Huh? Like the Hashirama? Couldn't be. Izuku waves the thought off, that would be impossible.

"You bet!" Hashirama exlaims, pumping his fist in the air with childlike glee, "So what can I get you?" he asks, leaning on the counter. He has long jet black hair which is braided and hangs loosely over his shoulder.

"Iced coffee perhaps? How much is it?" he asks, seeing no prices or menu in sight.

"For you it's on the house" Hashirama laughs, before turning around and starting the coffee grinder. An exhausted looking youngster walks out of the doors marked employees only. He throws Izuku a disinterested look before addressing Hashirama in a bored tone. "Uncle is going to kill you" the boy mutters, before running a hand through his hair. Black bangs frame his face, long eyelashes highlight the nearly black eyes accented by slight eye bags. Truth be told he is quite handsome, and probably not much older than Izuku. There is a book sticking out of his pocket, something about some stein. Maybe he is a horror fanatic, there was a book called Frankenstein and rather successful movie too.

"What he can't see he can't feel" Hashirama smiles at the young man who gives him a you-will-suffer-and-I-will-say-I-told-you-so look. "I'll be going out to see Yuui, I'll be back for my shift" the mysterious guy says before strolling out of the cafe. Izuku is about to say something when the doors marked employees only burst open once again.

A tall man barrels past him, grabbing one of the scones on the way, "Going out! Be back later!" he calls before shoving the pastry into his mouth and running out the doors.

A minute later Hashirama-san sets down a delicious looking iced coffee on the counter. He ushers him to a seat a little further down.

"So you are going to be a hero?" Hashirama-san queries, resting his head on an open palm. The few businessman evacuate from the cafe, leaving them alone.

"Absolutely!" Izuku grins, "I am going to be the very best! Like my dad! I am going to rescue people in an instant, appearing out of nowhere like a true shinobi" he chatters excitedly. Hashirama smiles at him, infected by his enthusiasm.

"You must be really proud of your Father" the bartender laughs lightly. Izuku takes a sip of his coffee, and licks the cream mustache off before replying.

"Of course I am. The Hokage is a super cool hero!" he answers. A shadow passes over the man's face. It's fleeting, and he barely catches it in time, but the next moment the barista give him one of the most honest, warmest smiles he has ever seen.

"I am sure he is" he says fondly. Hashirama-san's face gets this far away look, like he is reminiscing over something, before a short chuckle escapes him. "I am sure he is" he repeats.

Chapter 28: Apocalypse no Jutsu

Chapter Text

"I will murder him" Tobirama seethed into the crisp morning air. His hands bunched up the bed covers before he dared look under them. "I will" he confirmed, trying to tame the twitch of his eye. What had come over that muscled, handsome, disgustingly cute idiot yesterday?! He almost had a nosebleed up in that tree! How is he to figure out what evil plot Madara Uchiha is up to if Tensei keeps sending him... NUDES! He gulped just at the prospect, and jumped when his phone vibrated. Tobirama huffed, and ran a hand over his face. He had weird dreams, good weird mind you, even if they made him feel like a horny teenager all over again. Nevertheless something about Tensei's easygoing attitude made the weird worth it. The phone buzzed again, and this time the silver haired man didn't ignore it. There were two messages in the notifications.

'Hi!'
'Get ready for the Date!'

The phone buzzed in his hand again, and another message appeared.

'I'll drop by in a couple of hours.'

The shinobi dropped the phone onto the blanket and stretched. Well, he might as well get over with it. He will have to talk to Hashirama today, the idiot was already fast asleep by the time he got back from the stake out, which was frankly speaking too late. He was no longer twenty, and staying up this late took its toll on him. His shoulders felt stiff, well Tensei will probably rub some life into them the moment he notices.

***

Tensei held true to his promise as two past ten rang out and Hashirama walked down the stairs his jackass in white armor bounded in through the front door. Today he was wearing a navy shirt, and gray pants. The buttons of the former were doing a really miraculous job of holding the perilously stretched fabric together. Tobirama's fingers tingled to foil their efforts, and then maybe move the date upstairs, but he remembered he is a little old to act like an upstart. How can this idiot be this unfairly handsome?! His teeth grated, as he scowled at his dark haired bane.

"You are late" he ground out, as Tensei directed a beaming smile at him.

"And you are cute" the off duty hero sang, as he bounded over to the counter. Tobirama held back his urge to slam the idiot's head into the wooden plank, ultimately settling on grunting out a half hearted curse. He could feel the burning, inquisitive and completely incredulous look Hashirama was sending him from behind the register where he was standing. He would hold his dignity, even if his face felt like someone set fire to his cheeks and ears. He is Tobirama Senju, the Second Hokage, and he will date whomever the f*ck he please, thank you very much.

"O" Hashirama's small statement sounded like a gunshot in Tobirama's ears as he undid the apron. He could almost see his idiot brother's mouth opening again when he snapped at the dumbass.

"Man the fort" he half yelled striding around the counter hurriedly, and discarding the apron along the way. Oh f*ck it! He thought, before grabbing Tensei's hand and quite forcefully yanking the hero towards the doors. He can talk about Madara with Hashirama later. Most likely he will want to see that living menace and 'make up for lost time'. Whatever that meant. Tobirama didn't want to have anything to do with it anyway, he was sure Madara Uchiha, family man or not, was up to some bad sh*t.

"Come on" he hissed, dragging Tensei, and feeling his brother's scorching and horribly excited look on their clasped hands.

***

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Who the freaking hell is screaming this early in the morning. Loud thuds of footfalls echoed up and down the corridor, as Momochi turned onto his side. He sniffed, and scrunched up his nose at the smell of oil invading his senses. The room was practically drenched in it despite the open window. With a soft groan he flipped onto his stomach. Staying up late last night was a mistake. But he got inspired. His muse, Yai, or at least her outline, was currently slowly drying, depicted in a fascinatingly tantalizing pose, stretched out across a small altar, with limelight falling onto her as though heavens themselves tried taking her, and rip the beauty away from her lover and mortal man painted into the background. He had most of the outlines, and today he would have to do a lot of filling in, and figure out the finer details, but that he would have to do no earlier than ten AM.

A barely cracked open brown eye told him that it's hardly eight, much too early to get up!

"Come on! It's important!" Hashirama's voice sounded, followed by a loud yawn. Apparently he managed to drag Itachi out of bed.

"Hashirama-san. Please" Momochi managed, before the blanket was pulled off of him exposing him to the chill of the air. Not that he had a problem, simply he enjoyed how toasty he was underneath it.

"Is it more important than Madara Uchiha being back?" the raven haired young man drawled impassively from the doors against which he was certainly leaning on the frame.

"Absolutely!" Hashirama piped up, and seeing as there is no escaping, apart from death once again, the art student opened his eyes. Hashirama-san got this excited only about heroes, and knowing that the UA Sports Festival was yesterday it had to do something with that. However he really had to question the Shinobi God's priorities if Madara Uchiha was classified below something. Heck, he was from another village and another time, and he knew about that bastard.

"Please just not anything about heroes" Momochi grunted, running a hand over his face. It's too early to deal with the excited man. Then again it's better than mopey Hashirama. For sh*ts sake this guy was the Shinobi God, how on earth is he such a dumbass with mood swings 24/7.

"No, no, nonoonononon. Or maybe a little" Hashirama chatters, something about his talking is off. It's a little too fast... Oh no... he had espresso. There is a reason why they never give him any. Momochi sits up and looks at the man carefully. His hands are trembling and he has this wild gleam in his eyes. "Tobirama is sort of dating this hero, and I think he was making a point earlier when he grabbed his hand" Momochi suddenly felt very awake. His? Dating? Tobirama? The Tobirama, who basically dumped scorching espresso on the villain unfortunate enough to try and attack their little cafe?

"Wait a moment please. What do you mean held his hand?" he asked articulately, or at least as articulately as he could, given that this whole sentence didn't make sense. He understood the words, it would be hard not to but, arranged together they were nothing short of insanity.

Itachi sighed from the doorway, if smugness would be perfume than the young man wouldn't ever need cologne.

"Like he grabbed Ingenium's hand. And we are throwing him a coming out party!" Hashirama cheered, throwing his hands up in the air. Itachi facepalmed softly, as Momochi's jaw dropped. Tobirama-san was gay?! But he didn't look... you know... gay?! He was all about being tough, and angry at anything that breathed or not, just like that blond kid in the Sports Tournament yesterday!

"You surely are not serious" he managed to choke out after a couple of minutes of Hashirama loudly planning. Said party would involve a whole lot of rainbow flags, and the devil himself, Madara Uchiha, and the devil's spawn, an 'adorable little guy' called Izuku, and satan's adoptive son M-something. Momochi glance at Itachi, searching for support or at least understanding. The young man's expression was colored by excruciating internal pain, nothing short of Heidegger. Meanwhile Zabuza felt an oncoming migraine. Tobirama would literally kill them, he would boil them alive, or gut them, or skin them, or do all of these, and then eat them! Surely! That man was as much of a demon as the legendary Madara Uchiha if not worse! And drawing from personal experience Momochi knew there was at least two decades of unhandled anger issues bubbling in that man. So he did what any sane man would, he closed his eyes, fell back onto the pillow and pretended that he really doesn't care.

"To be fair he wasn't hiding it very well" Itachi muttered from the door putting the last nail in the coffin. What a bastard, he probably knew all along!

***

"You know you don't have to squeeze so hard, I am not going to run away" Tensei hummed, bumping their shoulders lightly, as Tobirama nearly crushed his hand in a vice grip. He watched the barista's ears turn a deeper shade of red. His cheeks didn't really reflect the color all that well, but darn was that man cute! Not in a million years would have the Turbo Hero thought that after breaking at least five dozen hearts he would end up with such an endearing grump. Sure he was rough around the edges, cursed a little, and seemed like talking about emotions would revolve around very vigorous in bed activities, a lot of hollering and quite a bit of blushing.

Tobirama mumbles something, and scowls down at the pavement.

"You are so embarrassed" Tensei teases, before squeezing back. He would much rather put his arm around Tobirama, he tried when they left the cafe, but the other man wouldn't have it.

"Yeah well, you'd be too if you did it for the first time!" Tobirama growled, boring holes into him with these pretty cedar eyes.

"But I am too" Tensei grinned, and watched with satisfaction as his boyfriend's frustration lessened. After a few moments Tobirama even stopped scowling, the morning walk through the park seemed to finally relax him. A couple of joggers passed them, and one granny oh-ed at them, which made Tobirama groan in embarrassment and blush a ferocious red. For some bold flirting moves out in the wild he sure was quite coy. At some point, as they stopped by a fountain a soft smile started tugging at his moody boyfriend's lips. Perhaps he was remembering something.

"When I was a kid I loved jumping into fountains" Tensei confesses looking at the shimmering, clear water. In the back of his head he can feel the urge to actually grab Tobirama tightly and jump into it with the other man. His barista would probably chew him out, and yell a lot, but wouldn't bite, though he might attempt to drown him.

"I swam in the river when I was younger" Tobirama muses, a look passes over his face. It's fleeting, but Tensei manages to glimpse a content smile of someone who has seen hell and looks back at times when he didn't know that the dark dominion exists. With a gentle tug Tobirama pulls him along, and starts talking about a small adventure he and his brother had when out by the river with their father.

***

Some time later they arrive at a tiny cafe. There is a logo of a tabby cat hanging above the doors. A cat cafe? Tobirama frowns looking at the green eyed beast with a Cheshire grin. Tensei smirks at him with understanding before pulling him inside. A minute later they are sitting at a cozy little table in the corner with menus in their hands, and in case of Tobirama a huge, cuddly orange cat in his lap. It's purring contently as he run his fingers through its fur.

"I wish you petted me like that" Tensei says off handedly, when the cat purrs especially loudly.

"I will" Tobirama replies in his best impression of a calm voice. The positions in the menu don't look familiar. Where the hell is black coffee and what is Tabby Tabs Coffee? Who the f*ck doesn't place an explanation underneath these? He sighs tiredly, settling on asking for black coffee and hoping that it won't contain cat fur. Across the table Tensei has gotten quite absorbed in choosing his drink, he is attempting to figure out the difference between Tabby Tabs and Tabby Orange when a pair of patrons walks in. Tobirama wouldn't even have paid them any attention if not for an offended threat from one of them directed at the other.

"Once we are out of this I am getting a restraining order against you" a tailed blond says. Hang on! Tobirama frowns lightly seeing that it's the taijutsu kid, Madara's adopted son? What is he doing here? Why is he handcuffed to the genjutsu boy?! Tobirama forgoes listening to Tensei's muttering about the menu options. Instead he watches the boys, one leaning back a little with a smug smirk, the other just short of boiling with live rage.

"Uchiha-san won't let you. He wants us to work as a team" eyebags hums, before dropping into a chair. A black cat almost immediately jumps onto the blond's lap and starts pawing at the tail hanging over his arm. Judging by how much felines like fluffy toys he is going to be very popular in a couple of minutes.

"Look. I don't like you" the blond states, chopping the air with his hand, "Not the way you want me to. And I won't because I am straight!" he accents the last word. Tobirama quirks an eyebrow, this feels vaguely familiar to him. Very vaguely, and he really hopes he is not correct about this guy. His radar isn't lighting up, but then again no one would guess he plays the curve balls.

"Oh, these two are here too?" Tensei hums, before a finger brushes against his elbow. Tobirama smiles, before reaching blindly with his own hand. Tensei covers it with his own. There is probably a giddy grin on his face, he can almost picture it.

"You do know that if you keep on repeating it like that it's not going to make me believe it more, do you?" the purple haired guy grins from his place. Another cat joins the black one trying to climb up the plaid shirt to reach a blond tuft of hair on the tail's end.

"But it's the TRUTH" the blond snaps. Just then a waitress comes over to get their orders. Tobirama asks for a black coffee, and the bubbly young woman gives him a look of pure disgust mixed with a fine dose of disdain. He glares back unabashedly. Tensei asks for an Orange Tabby, whatever the freaking hell that is. For a few more minutes, until their orders arrive they watch the scene between the blond and the purplette. It is quite a charade.

"He kind of reminds me of you" Tensei whispers, when a blond swipes at the purple haired teen, who leans back at the last second. The cats yowl malcontent that the object of their affection is moving and still out of their reach.

"How come?" Tobirama asks, feeling a coarse thumb being run over his knuckles.

"He is angry" Tensei replies with an air of certainty. Tobirama turns and give his boyfriend a flat look only to receive a grin. Fine, he has some anger issues, it's not like there were psychotherapists back in the land of fire. He had a stressful childhood, but he handles it rather well, granted no one wants to get under his skin.

"I have a lot of other defining and positive qualities" he deadpans, and Tensei snorts. He is about to retort when his knight leans over the table and gives him a peck on the nose. Tobirama's mind screeches to a dead halt, and blood threatens to burst right out of his cheeks. That's playing dirty!

"Tell me something I don't know about you. Like by the fountain. Where you grew up? What did you do? What are your hobbies?" Tensei asks. Are these date questions? Tobirama never really dated, he is familiar with the concept and he read up on it, but generally everyone kept repeating that reading about it isn't like actually doing it. He was inclined to agree, it was far more relaxing to actually go on a date than read about it and think of all the potential outcomes.

"I grew up outside of the city" he starts, well to be frank it's his brother who founded the first village, and he can't quite say 'Hey I popped in from another dimension', "When I was younger I took part in a family feud" a slaughter would be a better word for that or war. We killed one another left and right, the Senju and the Uchiha. "It got a little violent at times" just a tad, blood and guts on the wall violent. Tensei frowns, so he appeases him quickly before continuing, "Then me and my brother moved to a small city, and then here to Hosu. For fun, I like working out and martial arts"

"I can tell" Tensei interjects with a predatory look. This guy is going to be the end of him...

Tobirama smiles, before continuing, "I like places with a lot of water" he adds, before gesturing to Tensei. He learns that his boyfriend grew up in Musatafu, but later moved to Hosu after highschool. That he had no boyfriends before him, which honestly is a relief, but he had a number of girlfriends, that is not. He likes orange juice and sports, his favorite being acrobatics. He also likes tinkering with his suit. They end up talking and before Tobirama knows what came over him he leans across the table, and plants a quick kiss on Tensei's lips.

***

Hitoshi watches the hero on a date and gets an idea. One which will most likely net him another black eye, but if that doesn't work to nudge Mashirao he isn't sure what will. Needless to say after a couple of hours of pleasant relaxation they leave the coffee shop. Mashirao walks quietly by his side, seemingly buried in thought, when Hitoshi finds just the perfect place.

"Come with me" he says urgently, and tugs at the handcuffs. Before Mashirao can properly react they are already in a tiny back alley, properly shaded from the onlookers. His heart is thundering like crazy, but it seems that since he started training under Madara-san he grew a set of iron testicl*s. In two quick moves he pins Mashirao against the wall. Now at least he will get an honest answer. It's not exactly nice, or ethical, and he is certain there will be consequences, but some stupid, stubborn element drives him forward.

"What the hell are you -" the blond snaps, as Hitoshi takes a microsecond to steel himself. He grabs Mashirao's chin and dives down for a kiss. The blond attempts to dodge, but he is too late, and their lips meet. This is probably an assault, and now certainly Madara-san will not support his cause of 'accidental' events taking place. It's fully on him this time. He tilts Mashirao's head, as a weak shove tries pushing him away. Come on! Come on! Work! He opens his mouth a little and prods Mashirao's lips with his tongue, and suddenly the other boy freezes up. Mashirao gasps, and Hitoshi drives it home. He licks into the kiss, and feels the macha taste of Mashirao's drink on his tongue as another much weaker punch echoes in the empty alley. He kisses the guy again, and Mashirao's lips move against his a little, just a tad, but that's all he needs to know.

It worked! His mind sings! Before a quiet sniffle reaches his ears. What? Surprised he opens his eyes, and breaks away, to see a fat tear escape his friend's eye. Mashirao sniffles again. He doesn't look offended or angry, if anything he looks shocked and hurt. And suddenly Hitoshi feels like a giant screw up, like he just completely, utterly blew it. Mashirao's heart is thudding inches from his own, and yet he isn't pleased at all. What the f*ck had come over him?

"I -" Hitoshi stammers, but he doesn't get to finish the sentence, because a fist knocks him right off his feet. His hand twists painfully as the cuff digs into his skin. A breath later he hits the ground, and his cuffed hand falls. For a moment up and down switch places, and when he finally comes to Mashirao is nowhere to be found.

***

"Dad?" Mashirao asks in a wobbly voice. He rubs his nose on the back of his hand, but he still feels like crying. He had been for the last couple of minutes, and all the while he ran, hopping from roof to roof like father had taught him.

"Are you all right?" Dad's voice is alarmed, and worried, heck he knows Mashirao has been through worse, so why is he scared now, "If someone hurt you I will rip their heart out. Just tell dad who hurt you" Mashirao chuckles wetly at the idea. He is pretty certain Madara Uchiha could rip a heart out, it just wouldn't help, not in this case. Because all in all he doesn't want Hitoshi hurt, or punished really. It's just Hitoshi being his usual stupid self. He sniffles again, before composing himself enough to reply.

"Nah, it's just Hitoshi" he answers. He is still shaken up, but having someone he trusts and can talk to... It just does things for him, because for once he doesn't have to be the one stable anchor everyone relies on. And in his current state he could really use an anchor or a safe harbor, or really anyone who could adult more than he could.

An exasperated sigh escapes Madara, "I told you to wait you trash I am on the phone with my son. I don't care about your petty crisis" his father's voice echoes in the receiver, "What did he do this time?" he asks much more clearly. Apparently he has company, maybe he should call later.

Mashirao smiles weakly, Dad's at work, he remembers, and probably something important, and he is just freaking out, and scared. It's nothing he can't handle alone, nothing really new to him. "Can you talk now?" he queries, "Just be honest" he adds. He really doesn't want to disturb Dad. Hero work is pretty damn difficult, even without his dumb teenage problems. Because what else could they be?

There is a beat of silence, and a couple of muffled voices he doesn't quite catch, "20 minutes Mashirao. Can you hold on that long. I just need to tidy up" Madara assures.

"Sure. Call me" he answers with a small smile, before hanging up.

***

Madara sighs and disconnects. 20 minutes, just enough to wrap this steaming pile of sh*t up. The siren is blaring outside the small room he had managed to find. Supposedly they are on Def Con 1. Or whatever the Japanese equivalent of that is. Hitoshi you dumbass. He shoves the phone into his pocket, before storming out and onto the top deck. Soldiers are running around like headless chickens. Out of the corner of his eye he sees General Hasegawa on the bridge. As always he is waiting for the show, that damn old smartass.

Well fine. A show it is. Madara jogs, and then shifts into a run towards the edge of the ship. Thank gods this island is in the middle of f*cking nowhere or they would have to add tsunami damages to the government tab, and hopefully no telescopes catch this or there will be a PR nightmare. With a gentle push of chakra he shoots out into the sky. Bones and then muscle materialize around him, weaving themselves together out of nothing. In a split second the four arms take form.

"Seems like the negotiations were concluded" he mutters folding the seal, as the Susanoo does too. For a moment nothing happens, and then there is a roar of chakra flooding his system. It's like he is reaching the heavens, plucking its stars one by one, to bring their fiery doom to the earth. The Mangenkyo in his eyes burns like pits of hell. Blood thunders in his ears, and air freezes in his lungs, as the first of the meteors finally peeks through the clouds. In the distance he can see the island. A tiny thing. A smile stretches his face, he can almost feel the terror of the villains even from this far. They thought they were invincible, but they were wrong, so, so WRONG!

AGAINST HIM THERE IS NO ONE WHO IS INVINCIBLE?

A quiet cackle dances over the ocean waves, before being drowned out by the thunder of an unstoppable force wiping the military base from existence, a shock wave runs over the surface of water, followed by a wave rushing towards them. Yes, he could destroy this planet if he so desired. He could raze it of any life whatsoever, leave it ashen and bare. He could, but he has dinner to cook, and his sons to pick up, and he has to figure out what exactly what happened between Mashirao and Hitoshi.

***

"Breaking News! A meteor just crashed into one of the islands on the Pacific!" a blond woman chirps on a small TV in the cafe. Tobirama blinked, before spitting his coffee out, and looking at the TV. There wasn't really any material, other than some satellite photos, but he was certain that a certain black haired, red eyed maniac was to blame. Hashirama used to tell him about how he and Madara had stone skipping contests when they were small, and now it seemed that the wretched scum of the world had created a whole new level for that art.

"Amazing!" Tensei gapes, before turning back to Tobirama and starting up about meteorites and comets and other geeky crap. Only the silver haired barista is too busy running 'I f*cking told you' on loop in his head. When he finally breaks out of his reveries he attempts a quick getaway, only it seems Tensei, warmed up by their date, has a plethora of other plans.

***

"All right son. Hit me" Madara says in his calmest voice, as the destroyer turns around and back towards the nearest base. The ocean wafts a nice breeze smelling of salt and destruction. But that wasn't the problem at hand. His peaceful son was freaking out. To be honest Mashirao was a little off since morning. In an attempt to get him and Hitoshi cooperating he used the old get-along-shirt method, only he had a more durable medium on hand. How could he predict it would turn out like that? Madara's memory flashed back to the confession in the bathhouse and Izuku's blackmail material. Yeah, he could have. f*ck.

Mashirao too a steadying breath on the other end of the line, "So... Hitoshi kissed me, and I don't know what to do..." his son's voice was surprisingly steady. However Madara got quite anxious at that, romance in a team never worked well. At the same time, how dare he! That's not how his parents should have raised him. He had a complete set, what the f*ck?

"Well... uhm... did you punch him?" Madara asked the first question that came to his mind, and facepalmed. If any soldiers were watching they must be having a jolly good time. Destroyer of islands horribly failing at parenting over a f*cking satellite phone.

Mashirao chuckles, it's a little watery still, which stings Madara more than he will ever tell a living soul. "Yeah. I don't know it... just... I don't get it. I told him I don't like him like that" his son replies. He can almost imagine Mashirao curled up with his tail around him, scratching his cheek.

"Yeah, didn't we get a sample of that with Katsuki and your brother-" Madara gripes, but his son cuts him off.

"The thing is I didn't entirely not like it" Mashirao says so quietly he can barely hear it. Oh. Holy. sh*t! Madara can feel his parenting mode go full auto.

"Son, no matter who you love, I will always, always and forever love you unconditionally till the end of my life" he says, and silence falls on the line. Maybe he had overdone it?

"I know Dad" Mashirao replies. Madara's heart skips a beat when he says that. The word is so mundane, and yet every time he hears it a tiny spark lights itself in his chest. "It's just. I never thought I'd be like that. I like Hagakure and now she is making me wait one month because she thinks I have feelings for Hitoshi I don't know about. And I was sure I didn't, and now here I am sitting on the rooftop crying because he kissed me, and I didn't not like it, and it's a whole mess. In the orphanage I hardly had time to think about going out, because I was constantly busy, and now it's just a huge steaming, pile of doodoo I can't seem to get myself out of" Mashirao rants. Madara has a hard time keeping a straight face. He shouldn't feel like this is amusing, but he does, it's just that he just wiped out a world security threat, and his boys are angsting over love life. It's adorable. And most likely one day they will have to step into his shoes.

"Well for starters, figure out who your heart is after. You know there are rare cases when it's after more than just one person" he muses. Unknowingly, he just started a series of most fortunate events.

***

Izuku hummed, skipping back towards the train. He was simply ecstatic after having a talk with Senju-san, and he couldn't wait to tell dad. He'll be so proud, that he is making contact with fans. A giddy smile spreads on his lips, as he hums a catchy pop song under his breath. Something about roaring like tiger. He is almost there when he sees Hicchan. His future classmate, he is pretty confident in that one, is marching down the street like a man about to be hanged. Izuku catches up easily, and stops in his tracks. Half of Hitoshi's face is covered in a blooming red bruise, which is slowly turning blue.

"Hicchan, did you run into a wall or something?" Izuku frets, how the heck did this happen. Hang on! "Where is Mashirao?!" he exclaims, seeing half of the handcuff on Hitoshi's awfully bruised wrist. What the heck?! His friend looks like someone just asked him to drink poison. His eyes are downcast, and he looks just about ready to cry right here in the middle of the street.

"Hicchan what happened?" Izuku steps in front of his deftly marching friend, and attempts to prod his chin up to get a better look at the bruise. Hitoshi hisses, and recoils, but at least he stops walking.

"You know how you told me to fight for him? To go for it?" Hitoshi says in a watery voice. He isn't even looking him in the eye, just staring off to the side, like he really is afraid Izuku is going to judge him on romantic f*ckups. He is a king of those! How is he to judge anyone.

"Yeah" Hitoshi practically wilted in his hands. What the heck did he do? "I kissed him" the taller boy pouts. He looks so pitiful even his gravity defying hair seems to droop a little, and even that bloody cinnamon haze he emits grows a little bitter. Wait a moment!

"He didn't take well to it I presume?" Izuku goaded lightly. Hitoshi was liquefying rapidly, and soon enough he would probably happily slink into the pits of hell. He kissed a straight, all right, pretty much straight, guy full on, probably forcefully seeing the huge bruise it netted him. What the heck did he expect? That Mashirao would embrace the other side of the spectrum, forget Hagakure and just you know... go full gay?

"How bad did I f*ck up on a scale of one to ten" Hitoshi hiccuped.

"Fifteen" Izuku deadpanned. Maybe his situation is punishment for meddling, but he meddled, and he is pretty damn proud he did, if only these two could stop screwing around and finally figure their feelings out.

***

The ride back is deafeningly quiet. Mashirao is evidently deep in thought, and Hicchan attempts to interrupt that, but Madara gives him the look and he promptly clamps his jaw shut. Somewhere half way through Iida-san joins them again, and engages Madara in pleasant conversation. He points out he saw Hitoshi and Mashirao on a date at the cat cafe, and the two of them release a unanimous groan. Cat cafe, well, Hitoshi certainly started well. But then he starts talking about some barista, silver haired, his height, grumpy as all hell. Then he drops the name, Tobirama Senju, and a shadow passes over his father's face, almost like recognition.

"Well, Tensei-kun. I am looking forward to meeting this lovely fellow who stole your heart" Dad says in his sweetest tone. Despite that his hand are clutching the arm rests so hard that his knuckles turn white, and his dark chakra is literally foaming. Iida-san quickly changes topic to discussing the sudden meteor fall which flattened an island. Izuku never even heard about it today, yet Dad seems to have an awful lot of information about it, and that smug glint in his eye he gets when he knows more than he is telling.

Something tells Izuku that the upcoming internships are going to be a rather interesting affair.