MHA : Architect Of Time [Rewrite]

Aizawa finally gave up trying to hide his frustration and spoke, his voice devoid of emotion but with a clear edge of weariness.

"Class dismissed. All of you, inside."

The students shuffled off the field in a daze, trying to process what they had witnessed.

I stayed behind for a moment, letting the others pass me by. I could hear Bakugo muttering under his breath, still seething. Typical.

As I walked back to the classroom, I felt something heavy pressing down on me—a gnawing sensation at the pit of my stomach. I was walking a fine line, and if I made one wrong move, everything would fall apart. Bakugo was already suspicious, and Aizawa was only barely holding back his questions. If anyone else found out what I could really do...

I would have to be careful.

I stepped into the classroom, where most of the students were still in shock. Kirishima was the first to break the silence, raising his hand with a nervous smile.

"So, uh... Midoriya, right? Dude, you're like… a freakin' monster! In a good way, though! What the heck kind of quirk do you have?"

I couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Uh, it's just a quirk. I guess I've been training for a while."

That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Bakugo cut in. "That's not just a quirk, Deku. There's no way anyone could move that fast, throw a ball that far, and break all those records with just a regular quirk. Don't give me that bullsh*t. You've been hiding something. Since ten years!? What the f***'s wrong with you?"

I took a breath, exhaling slowly to calm myself. "You're right," I said quietly, keeping my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. "I've been hiding a lot. But it's not what you think. It's not something I can just explain."

"Bullshit," Bakugo spat, fists clenched at his sides. "You think I'm an idiot? I've been with you for years, Deku. I've seen you hold back and pretend like you're some damn weakling. This is who you really are, huh? Some freak who's been playing us all this time?"

The words stung, but I couldn't let them show. Not in front of everyone.

"There's a lot more going on than you can understand."

His eyes narrowed, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to piece things together. 

"You think I'm gonna just let this go, don't you?" Bakugo growled, taking a step toward me, his rage building with each word. "You think you can just keep playing this 'weakling' act."

"I'm not playing an act," I said, my voice lower now, softer. "I'm protecting the person I care about. If you knew everything... you wouldn't see me the same way."

Bakugo stared at me for a long moment, the room hanging in the balance. Then, his fists clenched tighter, and for a second, I thought he might blow up in my face.

Instead, he just sneered. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak further. I knew that look in his eyes. He wouldn't let this go easily, but maybe he'd back off for now.

Aizawa entered the room at that moment. "Enough, Bakugo. I suggest you all take a seat. We'll discuss the results later, but for now, focus on what's ahead."

The class fell into silence as we all made our way to our desks. I could feel the eyes of my classmates on me as I moved to my seat. Kirishima and Ochaco were the only ones who offered me nervous but encouraging smiles, trying to reassure me that everything would be okay. But the rest? They were still processing what they had witnessed. 

I turned slightly, just enough to glance at Ochaco. She was staring straight ahead, twirling her pen between her fingers, her lips pressed together in thought. Then, as if feeling my gaze, she glanced sideways at me and offered a small, encouraging smile.

That one simple gesture—so warm, so genuine—made my chest tighten.

After class ended, I barely had time to pack my things before she appeared beside me. "Hey, Midoriya," she said, her voice softer than usual. "Can we, um… talk?"

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, of course."

She hesitated for a moment before gesturing toward the hallway. "Somewhere more private?"

That caught me off guard, but I nodded. We slipped out of the classroom, and I followed her to a quieter part of the school, near one of the stairwells. The moment we stopped, she turned to face me, her expression unreadable.

"You're different," she said, her tone careful. "I mean, I always knew you were strong, but today… it felt like I was seeing a whole new you."

I let out a slow breath. "Yeah… I guess you were."

 This wasn't just about what my classmates thought. This was about how much I could afford to let them see.

"Yeah, it's light. Ochaco, we should get back to class before Aizawa Sir scolds us for bunking classes."

Ochaco frowned slightly but nodded. "You're right. We should go back."

But as she turned to leave, she hesitated. Her fingers curled slightly, like she wanted to say more but was holding herself back.

"Before you ask anything, I'm completely fine, Ochaco. I can see you wanted to ask me something."

Ochaco bit her lip, her eyes searching mine for something—hesitation, honesty, maybe even fear.

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, exhaling softly. "But I don't wanna push you. I just... I saw the way you looked earlier. When Bakugo was grilling you the others kept staring. You we-"

"No, no, no, it's completely fine, nothing to worry about. He's been like this since he got a quirk."

"Midoriya," she said slowly, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. "You say that, but… I don't know. Something about today felt different."

I held her gaze. "Because today was different. I had to show what I could really do, at least a little."

"That's just it," she said, taking a step closer. "You weren't just 'showing what you could do.' It felt like you were holding back even then."

That made my breath hitch. I schooled my expression into something neutral, and casual, but Ochaco saw right through it. "The doctor did say my quirk is one of its kind. It's just a bit strong for a strength quirk."

"Ochaco, it would be better if we go to class, the clock is not slowing down for us." I told her as I thought, 'At least for you.'

"Yeah, okay." We moved to class.

"Now that you've gotten a taste of what this school demands, get ready for more," Aizawa said, his tone as flat as ever. "Tomorrow, we start combat training."

The class buzzed with excitement, some students whispering eagerly. Combat training? That meant we'd probably be doing the battle trials. My mind instantly went to All Might. If this was anything like the original events, he'd be showing up as an instructor.

"Sweet! We get to fight already?" Kirishima grinned, pumping his fists.

"It's only natural," Iida said, adjusting his glasses. "U.A. prides itself on practical experience. We must be ready for any situation."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Bakugo muttered. He was still fuming, but at least for now, he wasn't trying to pick a fight with me. That was a small victory.

Aizawa let the chatter continue for a few seconds before shutting it down with a glare. "That's all for today. Go rest. You'll need it."

As soon as class ended, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the door, but before I could leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Midoriya."

I turned to see Aizawa staring at me. The other students filtered out of the room, though I caught Bakugo throwing a suspicious glance my way before leaving. Why is he always a pain in the ass?

"Yes, Aizawa-sensei?"

He studied me for a moment before speaking. "Your, quirk… You said it's a strength enhancement type, right?"

I nodded. "Something like that."

Aizawa didn't look convinced. "It's not just that. I saw what you did in the assessments. You weren't just stronger. Okay, whatever, keep up the good job."

I stayed silent.

He sighed. "Listen. I don't know what you're hiding, and honestly, I don't care. As long as you don't put anyone in danger, I won't dig into it. But keep this in mind, Midoriya—secrets don't last forever."

My fingers tightened around my bag strap. "I understand."

Aizawa held my gaze for another second before dismissing me with a nod. "Get out of here."

As soon as I got out of the class, I was ambushed as someone came pushed me lightly.

"BROOO! Izuku, you are manliest guy I ever met."

I barely had time to react before Kirishima threw an arm around my shoulder, grinning like I'd just saved the world.

"Dude! That was insane!" he laughed, his excitement almost infectious. "You're seriously a beast! No way that's just some basic strength quirk, right? I mean, come on, you made Bakugo look like a total extra!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I wouldn't say that. Bakugo is strong—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, man," Kirishima interrupted, waving me off. "I'm just saying, that was crazy! If we ever get teamed up in a training exercise, you better not hold back on me!"

I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

He gave me a firm clap on the back before jogging off, still hyped up.

I sighed. I appreciated Kirishima's enthusiasm, but this was exactly what I didn't want—too much attention. I wasn't here to be a spectacle. I was here to prepare. To grow stronger.

For what was coming.

I adjusted my bag and started toward the dorms when another voice called out to me.

"You're pretty good at dodging questions, huh?"

I turned to see Tokoyami standing a few feet away, arms crossed. His ever-present shadow, Dark Shadow, peeked over his shoulder, watching me with curiosity.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Tokoyami tilted his head slightly. "You deflect well. Even under Bakugo's interrogation, you didn't give much away."

Dark Shadow chuckled. "Yeah, yeah! Super mysterious! What's your secret, man?"

I forced a casual smile. "No secrets. Just a lot of training."

Tokoyami didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. "I see. Then I look forward to seeing more of your strength in combat training."

"Likewise," I said with a nod.

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I exhaled slowly. First Ochaco, then Aizawa, then Kirishima, now Tokoyami.

I was drawing too much attention.

I needed to lay low.

Tomorrow's battle trial had to be carefully handled. If I pushed too far, if I showed too much, the questions wouldn't stop.