The second we barged into his office, I slammed the door shut and locked it tight, making sure no nosy bastards were skulking around. No fuck-ups allowed.
I spun around to him, dead serious, and spat it out.
"You can drop the muscle form, Toshinori-sensei. Keeping it up must be painful given your... condition," 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 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 self. Still rocking that piss-yellow suit, but now he was a skeleton-sharp edges, stick-thin arms and legs, neck stretched out like a noodle, eyebrows gone, and those sunken eyes screaming "I'm done" with dark circles that'd make a raccoon jealous. He hacked up blood 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 routine, it was old news.
"Who 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 anything, 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 fate, including yours, 'All Might.'"
He shot me this freaky-ass look, like he couldn't tell if I was bluffing or onto something real. "I don't know what you're talking about, kid, but…"
"Save the questions. Right now, there's something 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 open, and they'd roll out some new bio-weapon—those creepy-ass "Nomu"—that'd 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 appetizer. There'd be the slugfest with Muscular, Best Jeanist eating dirt, Bakugo getting "donutted", and eventually the 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 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 know this isn't 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 one on this rock with two natural Quirks. One's future sight, call it whatever 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 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 Three 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 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-skull-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, 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 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. As for the others? Their costumes were... certainly unique and practical for each person's Quirk. Take Yaoyorozu, for example—wearing an outfit with the belly and chest all slashed open just to make it easy to craft items- sure, it's handy, but it's got this serious adult video vibe somehow.
As for Bakugo, those two grenades strapped on the arms 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. 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 actions 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 left from the staging area with the rest of the class to watch from a distance, keeping my peepers sharp.
"Onodera-san, where are you going? Test ain't even started yet…" Izuku piped up, looking at me like a lost puppy.
"Just learning from the sidelines, bro," I said, flashing a grin under the mask. "Watching from my own angle."
He nodded, still looking like he'd lost the plot, then hauled ass into the building with Uraraka to prep.
...
The combat trial finally wrapped, and all my stressing turned out to be a waste of 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 yourself 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. But do you have a license for that?"
"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 do you need from me, kid? You said we had some 'important' things 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 stuff."
"I see…" He let out a long, tired-ass breath, scratching his neck. "But what do you need this nonsense for? This doesn't sound legal…"
"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-Destroying Bullets - prototypes - plus the serum. 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.
"Actually I know where the prototypes are, and I'll get them myself soon right after they finish it. I just need you to cover for me against Nezu and the police if I'm caught holding it, or help me to ask Hawks to...you know, help me. In return, I'll save Mirio Togata and prevent the collapse of society."
"Stealing from the Yakuza? Using illegal weapons?" All Might frowned, his hollow eyes narrowing. "That's crossing a line, kid. Even if it's for the greater good, a Hero doesn't—"
"A Hero plays by the rules and lets people die because he was too slow," I cut him off coldly. "I'm not asking you to be the thief or a drug dealer. I'm asking you to look the other way so I can save a life you don't even know is in danger yet. Mirio Togata. Do you want his future erased because we were too scared to get our hands dirty? Or do you really want things to go back to the shitty era where deranged people with Quirks enjoyed terrorizing the population?"
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Finally, the Symbol of Peace slumped, the weight of the world—and my words—crushing his shoulders.
"...God forgive us," he whispered. "Fine. I'll consider this carefully, and pay more attention to you, Onodera," 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 looked at me with a suspicious and stern gaze. "Don't get your hopes up. If you have any intentions, I'll be the first one to stop you!"
"Fine. Oh yeah, 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 him when the time's right."
"Got it. My lips are sealed," he said bluntly.
Then the "test" kicked off. All Might called it a formality, but christ, even that "formality" was a nightmare. I juiced myself up with tungsten-titan alloy - hard and durable - and still got my jaw smashed by one of his punches. Couldn't do anything about it. Guess I've still got a long 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 for punching another student hard enough to dislocate a jaw and break several bones. She also scolded me for recklessly injecting Izuku with adrenaline – something that could have actually killed him with a heart attack – but then she let it go because I looked just as miserable as he was....
They yapped about One For All's deal later - shit I already knew, so I let it slide past. No point sweating stuff I'd already clocked.