Chapter Text
The morning air was quiet as Aizawa stepped onto the front porch, the steady hum of a quiet neighborhood early in the morning doing little to ease the tension in the house.
Izuku stood by the kitchen counter, adjusting the straps of his backpack for the third time. His jeans were perfectly pressed and he wore a plaid button-down, it was the nicest outfit Aizawa could force him into, ironed the night before with a care that Izuku hadn't asked for and didn't quite know how to receive. He wasn't excited. Excitement meant he had high hopes for the day, and hope had a way of costing him more than it gave back.
Aizawa grabbed his car keys off the hook by the front door, his dark eyes scanning Izuku with a familiar, unreadable expression.
"You got everything?" Aizawa asked, his voice low and raspy.
"Yeah," Izuku murmured , keeping his tone quiet. "Schedule, notebooks, ID. I'm good."
"Good." Aizawa took a long drink from his travel mug. "Fresh start means a fresh start, Izuku. New school, new routine. You keep your head down, do your work, and if you get overwhelmed, you know where my classroom is."
"I know, Aizawa," Izuku replied, giving a brief, earnest nod. "I'll handle it."
Upstairs, the quiet was broken by heavy footsteps as Hitoshi slouched down the wooden staircase, his pants sagging and an energy drink already in hand. He looked like he hadn't slept a full eight hours in a decade.
"You ready to be the shiny new kid? It's already your sophomore year." Hitoshi deadpanned, tapping Izuku on the shoulder as he passed by—light, easy, the kind of touch that didn't ask permission because it didn't need to. Izuku had flinched at it the first week. He didn't anymore. That, more than anything, felt like proof something in his life had actually changed.
"I'm just trying to make it to seventh period without getting lost," Izuku muttered, though a faint, dry smile cracked through his weary expression.
"Don't worry," Hitoshi said, tossing his backpack over one shoulder. "Text if you need anything, don't come up and embarrass me in front of my friends though."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Izuku breathed.
By the time they pulled into the school parking lot, the front courtyard was already a zoo of upperclassmen, yelling over each other and re-establishing their turf after the summer break. From the passenger seat, Izuku looked out at the crowds, taking a steadying breath.
Aizawa didn't make a big deal out of walking into the building with them. He just gave Izuku’s shoulder a brief, heavy squeeze, a quiet reminder that things were different now, before heading down the administrative hall toward his classroom.
"Don't look so terrified," Hitoshi said as they reached the central lobby. "Dad’s room is on the second floor if you actually manage to mess up this badly on day one."
"I'm not going to mess up," Izuku said softly, though his knuckles were white where he gripped his the threads of his jeans.
"Good. I'm not letting you ruin my rep just 'cause you wanna act like a deer in headlights," Hitoshi joked. He paused, glancing down at Izuku with a slightly more serious look. "You good?"
Izuku took a slow breath, letting the steady hum of the hallway ground him. A trick Aizawa had taught him back in the spring, when the panic used to climb up his throat without warning. Count the sounds in the room. Name them. Let them be boring. The formal adoption papers on the kitchen counter from three months ago felt a million miles away, some other kid's paperwork, some other kid's luck. But the reality was right here, solid under his shoes, and for once he let himself believe it might stay that way.
"Yeah," Izuku nodded, a small, genuine expression finally breaking through his nervous guard. "I'm good."
"Right. See you at home," Hitoshi said, turning off toward the senior hallway where a group of loud voices were already gathering near the lockers.
Izuku watched his older brother walk away before pulling his folded schedule out of his pocket. Room 204. First period history.
He took one last look at the hallway ahead of him, squared his shoulders, and took his first step into his new life.
The second-floor hallway was a maze of noisy lockers and students rushing to find their assigned homeroom before the final bell. Izuku kept his head down, clutching his folded paper schedule tightly in his hand as he navigated through the sea of sophomores.
Room 204 was tucked near the end of the hall. By the time Izuku stepped inside, most of the desks were already claimed. He found an open seat near the back window, pulling out his chair quietly and carefully aligning his notebook with the edge of the desk. After everything over the past year, his goal for today was simple: blend in, work hard, and don't make a scene.
"Is this seat taken?"
Izuku looked up. Standing beside the empty desk to his left was a girl with short brown hair, a bright smile, and an absurdly large stack of textbooks balanced in her arms. Before he could even answer, she dropped the heavy stack onto the desk with a loud, resounding thud that drew a few glances from nearby students. She slid into the chair with a heavy sigh, rubbing her wrists.
"Awesome. I'm Ochako Uraraka!" she said, giving him a friendly wave.
"Izuku," he murmured, offering a polite, slightly hesitant nod. "Izuku Midoriya."
"Nice to meet you, Midoriya! Are you new? I don't think I saw you around the freshman wing last year."
"Yeah, just transferred," Izuku replied smoothly, keeping his tone light and practiced. He adjusted his pencil, deliberately keeping his body language relaxed so she wouldn't dig deeper into where he transferred from or why.
Luckily, Ochako didn't push. She just grinned, already pulling her pencil case out of her backpack. "Well, welcome! It's a bit chaotic here, but you'll get used to it. Just a heads-up, try to avoid the East Hall unless you want to get trampled by upperclassmen."
"The East Hall?" Izuku asked, completely unfamiliar with the school layout.
"Yeah, that's where all the senior lockers are," Ochako explained, leaning in slightly. "It's basically a war zone during passing periods. Total chaos."
Izuku just nodded, making a mental note to stick to the sophomore wing until he figured out his way around.
Before Ochako could say anything else, the classroom door slid open again. A tall boy walked in, stepping through the doorway with a calm, deliberate pace that stood out against the morning rush. He had striking split-dyed hair—half white, half red and a quiet, distant expression that made the room seem to settle down around him.
The boy scanned the remaining desks before heading toward the row near the window, pulling out the chair directly in front of Izuku. He set his bag down without making a sound, leaning back in his seat and resting his chin in his hand as he stared out at the athletic fields below.
Ochako leaned across the aisle, lowering her voice to a whisper. "That's Todoroki. He's actually a junior, but I think he's taking this history section to clear his schedule for afternoon labs."
Izuku glanced at the back of Todoroki's head, noting the calm, unbothered way the older student carried himself. "He seems quiet."
"Extremely," Ochako giggled softly. "I tried talking to him in the hallway before first period and I think he gave me a two-word answer. But hey, at least this side of the room seems pretty peaceful."
As if on cue, Todoroki turned slightly, his heterochromatic eyes drifting over to Izuku and Ochako. For a second, Izuku froze, worried they’d been caught talking about him, but Todoroki just gave a short, subtle nod of acknowledgment toward them before turning back toward the chalkboard.
Izuku let out a quiet breath and silently slipped his Airpods in, the remaining tension in his shoulders finally starting to melt away.
History dragged on the way first-day classes always do, more syllabus than substance. The teacher read the grading policy off a slide word for word, and Izuku let his eyes drift to the window, watching a groundskeeper drag a hose across the football field. He found himself cataloguing the room instead—exits, the position of the clock, the particular squeak of the third row of desks whenever someone shifted, old habits that Aizawa said would fade eventually. They hadn't yet.
Second period was gym, and gym meant standing in a line on painted floor tape while a coach with a whistle around his neck read names off a clipboard in the flattest voice Izuku had ever heard.
He ended up next to a stocky kid with glasses who introduced himself as Koji Koda before immediately going quiet again, apparently satisfied that the introduction had been sufficient. It suited Izuku fine. They stood together through an entire period of "orientation," which mostly consisted of the coach explaining the locker room combination system twice because half the class hadn't been listening the first time.
By the end of the period he'd learned nothing about gym class and everything about the social terrain of the room, which felt like a fair trade.
——————————————————————
When the lunch bell echoed down the hallway, signaling a brief relief from the morning's classes. Izuku packed his notebook into his backpack, offering a quiet "See you later" to his teacher before heading out toward the cafeteria.
The main hallway was packed. Upperclassmen dominated the center of the corridor, moving in loud, confident groups. Izuku stayed close to the lockers, keeping his head down and focusing on navigating through the crowd.
As he turned the corner near the staircase, he didn't notice the sudden stop in the flow of traffic ahead.
"Watch it, man!"
Izuku bumped directly into a tall blonde. The sudden stop sent Izuku's paper schedule slipping from his hand onto the tile floor.
"Ah—sorry! I'm sorry, I wasn't looking," Izuku said quickly, dropping to one knee to grab the paper.
"No, I'm sorry don't worry about it dude," the blonde quipped as he bent down to help Izuku steady himself. Upon closer look, the boy had snake bites framing his mouth and a black streak in his hair.
"would you mind pointing me to the cafeteria?" Izuku asked tentatively.
The boy in front of him flicked his wrist toward the end of the hall. "Cafeteria's down the main stairs and to the left."
"Right. Thanks," Izuku said, keeping his tone quiet and polite.
"Come on, Kami," a pink-haired girl said, stepping up behind the blonde while checking her phone. "We need to get to the house during free period to set up the gear before rehearsal."
"See ya around, man!" the boy—Kami called out, giving Izuku a friendly wave before trotting to catch up with his friend.
Shaking off the brief interaction, Izuku adjusted his backpack strap, took a steadying breath, and headed down toward the cafeteria.
As the hallway cleared, Izuku felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Aizawa:
dadzawa<3: Faculty meeting after 7th period. I’ll be stuck at school until late. Go home with Hitoshi today. He’s heading straight to the neighbor's after school, so just go with him.
Izuku stared at the screen for a second. He hadn't planned on tagging along to whatever Hitoshi did after school.
Replying with a quick Okay, see you at home later, Izuku slid his phone back into his pocket and stared into the sea of students.
The cafeteria was a mess of noise and crowded tables. Izuku grabbed a tray of greasy pizza and scanned the room, instantly relieved when he spotted Ochako waving him over to a table near the windows.
"Midoriya! Over here!" she called out, gesturing to the open seat across from her.
As Izuku sat down, Ochako was already unwrapping a rice ball. "How was your second period? I had French, and the teacher already assigned a project. On day one!"
"Gym was pretty boring," Izuku said with a faint smile, unwrapping his own lunch. "Kan Sensei is kinda wild."
"That he is," Ochako laughed. She took a bite before leaning in slightly. "By the way, did you make it down the hall alright earlier? The hallways were completely backed up near the stairs."
"Yeah, I ran into someone, actually," Izuku admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Literally. I bumped into a guy with blonde hair and a black streak in it."
"Oh, Kaminari?" Ochako giggled, snapping her fingers. "He's a senior! Super high-energy, but totally harmless. He's always running around the halls like he's late for something."
"Yeah, he was pretty cool about it," Izuku said, remembering the easygoing upperclassman who had just laughed it off and helped him pick up his schedule.
For the rest of lunch, the conversation stayed light. They talked about their favorite subjects, middle school memories (with Izuku keeping his details vague and brief), and their schedules for the rest of the semester. For the first time all day, Izuku felt himself completely relax.
The final bell of seventh period rang, triggering the immediate rustle of backpacks and scraping chairs across the building.
Izuku packed his notebooks, slung his bag over his shoulder, and made his way out into the courtyard to wait for Hitoshi. The late afternoon heat was heavy, but the cool breeze coming off the athletic fields made it bearable.
A few minutes later, Hitoshi sauntered out of the main doors, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder and his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Surviving?" Hitoshi asked as he approached, his voice as low and tired as ever.
"Barely," Izuku said, adjusting his backpack strap. "Aizawa texted me. Said he's stuck in a faculty meeting."
"Yeah, he told me," Hitoshi sighed, turning to walk toward the side exit of the school grounds instead of the front parking lot. "Which means you're coming with me to Bakugou's place. We've got band practice ."
Izuku blinked, following closely behind. "Bakugou?"
"Yeah. He lives right next door to us," Hitoshi explained, not bothering to turn around. "You know, the blonde junior with spiky hair?"
Izuku’s eyes widened slightly as he processed that. He knew Aizawa had neighbors, but he had no idea one of them was in a band with Hitoshi.
"Wait, so your band practices right next door?" Izuku asked.
"Unfortunately," Hitoshi deadpanned, a faint, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, dweeb. You can sit on the porch or hang out in the garage while we set up."
He offered a small, quiet nod, slinging his backpack over one shoulder as he followed Hitoshi up the driveway.