The second we barged into his office, I slammed the damn door shut and locked it tight, making damn sure no nosy bastards were skulking around. No fuck-ups allowed. I spun around to him, dead fucking serious, and spat it out.
"Alright, you can drop the act and go back to your real form now, Toshinori-sensei," I said, strolling over and tossing him a stick of gum like it was nothing.
He froze, gawking at me like I'd just shat on his desk. Shock, doubt, and a flicker of "what the fuck" hit his face all at once, those tired-ass eyes bugging out. "How do you…?"
"I know everything," I fired back, jabbing a finger at my eyes with a cocky grin, acting like I had some badass Quirk that saw through his crap.
He didn't totally buy my shit—I could tell from the way his ugly mug scrunched up—but he kinda seemed to roll with it, too damn worn out to argue. With a ragged-ass sigh, he slumped like a sack of bones. "If you know that much, kid, I guess I don't have much choice but to trust you, Onodera…"
Then he peeled off the mask. All Might - or whatever the hell was left of him - shifted back to his true, scrawny-ass self. Still rocking that piss-yellow suit, but now he was a goddamn skeleton-sharp edges, stick-thin arms and legs, neck stretched out like a fucked-up noodle, eyebrows gone, and those sunken eyes screaming "I'm done" with dark circles that'd make a raccoon jealous. Blood hacked out of his mouth right after, splattering the floor like a crime scene. He barely gave a shit - just smeared it off with his hand like it was Tuesday. Guess after years of this fucked-up routine, it was old news.
"Who the hell are you…?" he asked, voice low and hard, staring me down like he could carve me open with a look.
I didn't flinch. "If I said I'm one of the only freaks in this world with more than one Quirk—natural, no shady crap—and one of 'em's tied to the future, you think you'd swallow that, sensei?"
"…" He didn't say jack, just kept eyeballing me, starting to look a bit fucked in the head.
"I can see the future, literally." I said, no screwing around. "I'm here to flip the script on this fucked-up world—everybody's shitty fate, including yours, 'All Might.'"
He shot me this freaky-ass look, like he couldn't tell if I was batshit or onto something real. "I don't know what you're yammering about, kid, but…"
"Save the damn questions. Right now, there's some heavy-ass shit I gotta run by you—real critical, life-or-death stuff, sensei."
And with that, I fucking unloaded—every goddamn thing I knew about the original clusterfuck timeline, no holding back.
In a few days, those League of Villains assholes would crash the U.S.J., tipped off by some sniveling little shit in Class 1-A. It'd nearly blow his secret wide fucking open, and they'd roll out some new bio-weapon freaks—those creepy-ass "Nomu" bastards—that'd damn near gut Aizawa right then and there. Then, with that "Hero Killer: Stain" prick stirring the shitpot later, the League would blow up, snagging more psychos, including Endeavor's long-dead son, Todoroki Toya. That was just the fucking appetizer. There'd be the slugfest with Muscular, Best Jeanist eating dirt, Bakugo getting nabbed, and eventually the big-ass throwdown with All For One, followed by the all-out shitstorm between heroes and villains.
I dumped every goddamn detail I had rattling around in my skull.
By the time I was done, All Might's mug looked like he'd been hit by a fucking truck—shock all over it, but with this nasty undercurrent of dread and "oh shit" he couldn't hide.
"Why are you dumping this on me? How am I supposed to buy a single word outta your trap?" he growled, voice rough as sandpaper.
"You'll believe me, sensei," I said, shaking my head. "Combat sim's tomorrow, right?"
He blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah. How do you even know that? Not a single kid in 1-A's been told yet."
"I told you already—I'm the only bastard on this rock with two natural Quirks. One's future sight, call it whatever the hell you want. Even if you don't buy it now, in a couple days, all that shit's gonna hit exactly like I said." I pointed at my eyes again, doubling down like it was a fucking badge. "And I've got some big, not-so-legal crap to pull off. That's why I'm here, spilling this to you, sensei. It's a trade so I can hash shit out with the principal and the Number Two hero, get 'em ready for the storm."
He wavered, clearly chewing on it like a tough piece of gristle, but finally grunted, "What do you need from me, kid?"
"I'll fill you in later, sensei. For now, just pass the word to Nezu-sensei. That's all I need."
Next damn day rolled in, and after All Might's loud-ass, awkward-as-fuck intro to the class—big grin, booming voice, the whole overblown circus—we got our hero gear. Each piece was custom-built, some fancy-ass shit to juice up our Quirks and cover our weak spots. Uraraka's getup kept her floating without puking her guts out, Ida's had engines bolted to his legs—practical as hell.
Mine? Looked plain as shit next to the others. Just a black bulletproof tux with a bow tie, matching pants that could take a slug, gloves, shoes, and night-vision specs rigged up like regular glasses. Slapped on a silver half-mask to hide my mug and a slick "office" briefcase packed with papers, a sedative vial, some aphrodisiacs - don't ask me why i'm carrying this, and a bunch of survival and fight-ready junk. I'd only barked some simple orders: "Tough as hell, cut-proof, fireproof, mold-proof, comfy, easy to use, low-maintenance, and don't let it scream 'hero.'" So yeah, it just looked like some slick suit—nothing flashy, nothing begging for attention.
Izuku's, though? A fucking mess of details compared to mine. Bet my ass his mom sewed it up, just like in the original shitshow. Green jumpsuit, red belt, clunky red boots, black knee pads, and a mask that was straight-up All Might fanboy bait - right down to the dumbass grin stitched on. Kid couldn't hide his nerd boner for the guy if he tried. Other people's Hero costumes? You could say they're kinda... unique and practical for each person's Quirk. Like, wearing a fuckin' outfit with the belly and chest all slashed open just to make it easy to craft shit - sure, it's handy, but it's got this goddamn porn-y vibe somehow. Plus, those two grenades strapped on the hands like support gear? I swear, they look like a total pain in the ass, not to mention if you're not careful, you might fuck yourself up so bad you can't even clap your hands later...
All Might laid out the rules next. Two teams, picked outta a hat, slugging it out. Team one's the heroes—gotta nab the bad guys or shut down a fake nuke in 15 minutes. Team two's the villains—gotta fuck up the heroes or guard the "weapon" for the same stretch. With 21 of us in the class, I'd get paired up later, solo. Fucking perfect—meant I didn't have to cram into a squad and screw the balance. Plus, I wanted to eyeball if Izuku could pull his shit together like in the original without me sticking my nose in.
First up: Team A as heroes, Team D as villains. Heroes were Izuku and Uraraka; villains were Bakugo and Ida. Couldn't have rigged a better kickoff if I'd tried.
I fucked off from the staging area with the rest of the class to watch from a distance, keeping my peepers sharp.
"Onodera-san, where the hell you off to? Test ain't even started yet…" Izuku piped up, looking at me like a lost damn puppy.
"Just learning from the sidelines, bro," I said, flashing a grin under the mask. "My own way of watching."
He nodded, still looking like he'd lost the plot, then hauled ass into the building with Uraraka to prep.
...
The combat trial finally fucking wrapped, and all my stressing turned out to be a waste of goddamn time. Shit went down exactly like it was supposed to. Bakugo's sloppy-ass explosion tantrum, the clusterfuck that came after—all of it lined up with the manga like clockwork. Only difference was watching it live, which kicked way more ass than skimming pages.
When it was done, I swaggered back to the site, yanked an adrenaline shot from my briefcase, and jabbed it into Izuku. Kid was out cold on the training ground's busted-ass floor, sprawled like a drunk.
"W-where am I? What's going on?" he mumbled, blinking around like a dazed little shit.
"You passed out from overcooking your Quirk and getting banged up too much, Midoriya," I said, blunt as a hammer. "Drag your ass to the med bay and crash, alright? I ain't kidding."
"Y-yeah… Thanks, Onodera-san," he said with a wobbly smile, then stumbled off.
All Might strutted over right after, still puffed up like a damn parade float. "Hey! Good work out there. Smart move, kid."
"No big deal," I said, shrugging it off. "That little runt just needs to quit sucking at looking after himself."
He shot me this weird-ass look—half curious, half something I couldn't pin—then said, "Onodera, you're up next."
"With who? I'm the odd out, remember…?"
"Nope—one-on-one with me!" he roared, grinning like a psycho. "You're the last, and it's my job to train everyone. Let's do this!"
"For real…? Alright, if that's what you want, sensei," I grumbled, a little pissed.
I tailed him to the building where he'd rigged the fake weapon, slipping in through a busted window while he took the front. The second I stepped inside, All Might—back in his bony-ass true form—swung around, arms crossed.
"So, what the hell do you need from me, kid? You said we had some 'important' shit to hash out…"
"Damn straight, sensei," I said, cutting the fluff. "I need you to set some crap up—someone who can play go-between to snag what I want. Cash ain't a problem." As I talked, I snatched a fist-sized chunk of concrete off the floor, fired up my Quirk, and turned it into a solid gold brick. Held it up and stared him down, daring him to call bullshit.
His face went wild—shock, then more shock, like he couldn't process it. "So that's your other Quirk, huh? But why me? You could hit up any other - why spill your guts to me?"
"I need your connections, sensei. As the Symbol of Peace, you've got ties - heroes, bigwigs, all that stuffs."
"I see…" He let out a long, tired-ass breath, scratching his neck. "But what do you need this crap for? Doesn't sound kosher…"
"You know the Shie Hassaikai, right? They've got a weapon I want - something that could flip the whole game."
"And that would be…?"
"Quirk-busting bullets - temporary and permanent ones - plus the reversal juice. I'm gonna crack 'em open, figure out how to use 'em for the shitshows coming up."
He damn near choked on that, pushing back hard at first. Took me laying out that I wanted to cook up a vaccine—something to fix anyone who got their powers jacked—before he eased off. Finally, he caved.
"Alright, I'll help you," he said, still scowling. "But I've got doubts about why you're doing this without some selfish angle…"
"I'm here to rewrite this world's shitty fate - that's all, sensei," I said, smirking under the mask. "Thanks for stepping up, All Might."
He nodded. "Don't mention it."
"Oh, one more thing," I tossed in, turning back. "Don't spill this to Izuku - or why I know you handed him your Quirk - not yet. I'll break it to the kid when the time's right."
"Got it. My lips are sealed," he said, nodding again.
Then the "test" kicked off. All Might called it a fucking norminality, but christ, even that "norminality" was a goddamn nightmare. I juiced myself up with tungsten - pure as hell - and still got my jaw smashed by one of his punches. Couldn't do shit about it. Guess I've still got a long-ass road to haul before I'm ready for this crap.
He went soft on me, though - I could still crawl to the med bay after. Even with my Quirk soaking some damage, I was a mess of cracked bones. If I were some normal dumbass, I'd be toast - or at least fucked up beyond fixing.
When I dragged my ass into the med bay, Izuku was already there, zonked out on a bed. Adrenaline's got its limits. All Might was there too, catching hell from Recovery Girl for dumping Izuku in here three damn times since school started, and punched another student, causing his jaw to be dislocated and his bones to break.. They yapped about One For All's deal - shit I already knew, so I let it slide past. No point sweating stuff I'd already clocked.