Chapter Text
Shota watched Bakugo accost Midoriya with barely contained fury. But, as Midoriya requested, he did not interfere and he let the greenette deal with it.
(Granted, the expression on Bakugo’s face when Midoriya shook him off and used his given name was immensely entertaining.)
However, what really caught his attention was Bakugo’s comment about ‘beating’ the idea of Quirkless people being weak into Midoriya. As soon as the final bell rang, he headed up to Nedzu’s office.
“I want to see Bakugo and Midoriya’s files.”
“Of course, Aizawa-kun,” Nedzu said placidly, though the mammal’s eyes glinted dangerously. He handed over the key to the record room and waved a paw. “Do let me know if I need to arrange any meetings.”
“Got it.” He gripped the key tightly in his fist and left the room without another word.
The files were easy enough to find, and he took both of them back to the teacher’s lounge. He photocopied the contents of both and returned the originals to the record room. This way, he could destroy the copies when he was done and had taken all the notes he needed. It also meant he could take the copies home, since the original files had to stay at the school.
He could tell just from looking at the first few pages that this was going to take a while; and he was not going to like what he found.
He decided to start with Bakugo’s file, since it was thinner. His grades were stellar—not much of a surprise, Bakugo was an excellent student academically. What really drew his attention were the teachers’ comments. Every single one of them sang Bakguo’s praises; calling him a ‘model pupil’, ‘respectful’, ‘always jumping to help his peers’, and ‘well behaved’.
Midoriya’s file, by contrast, was a solid 20 centimeters thick*. His grades were barely passing—which did not match with the dedicated student he’d seen in his class since day one—and the comments were outright spiteful. They said Midoriya was ‘difficult’, ‘always picking fights’, ‘an attention-seeker’, and an all-around distraction.
In other words, it was like the files had been switched.
“What’s got you frowning like that, Kitten?”
He shot a heatless glare at his husband.
“No pet names at school, Hizashi. But to answer your question, I’m looking at Bakugo and Midoriya’s files.” He grunted. “From the looks of this, I’m going to need to get some answers from the Aldera staff. Unless Midoriya and Bakugo swapped personalities before UA, then there are a lot of lies in these files.”
And he had a feeling that he knew exactly why.
He pulled out his phone with a sigh, mourning the loss of some of his limited free time as he sent a text to Nedzu.
(Caterpillar): I need a meeting with the principal of Aldera Junior High.
(Rat Satan): Consider it done.
****
His first impression of Aldera Junior High left something to be desired. The building was old, with flaking paint and tarnish on the metal fixtures. It had probably been white at first, but now the paint was a dingy gray. The pavement outside was cracked and choked with weeds, and several of the windows were smudged.
The man waiting at the door—most likely the principal—matched the school perfectly. He had a tweed suit and his hair was combed over in an attempt to conceal a bald spot. Thin, wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the man’s nose, and as soon as the man caught sight of him, a bright, customer-service smile appeared on his face and he bowed deeply.
“Ah, you must be the representative from UA!” The man rose from the bow and stuck out his hand for a handshake. “I’m Higa Taro; it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!”
“Yes. . .a pleasure.” He bowed as shallowly as he could, but did not return the handshake. Eventually, Higa got the message and lowered his hand.
“So, what brings you to our fine school. . .I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Aizawa.” There was no way in hell this man would know him by anything other than his surname. “I came here to learn a bit more about the two first years that came from Aldera.”
“Ah yes!” Higa brightened. “Please follow me, we can talk more comfortably in my office.”
Higa led him into the school, prattling on about the achievements made by their alumni—including Bakugo’s acceptance into UA. Not once did the man mention Midoriya.
I’m not liking this at all.
The inside of the school matched the outside rather perfectly—the lockers were old and dented, bits of gum were on the walls and the ceiling—somehow—and there were several places where the plaster was falling away.
As they passed by the main office, two large boards caught his eye and he paused to take a closer look. One was a photo board of students on the honor roll, and the other held pictures of honored alumni. Both featured a large photograph of Bakugo Katsuki.
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the photo. Bakugo was smirking arrogantly, one hand held up and sparking with small explosions.
I see I’ll need to look into illegal Quirk use. . .
He looked over the two boards until he finally saw Midoriya’s photo on the honored alumni board. It was less than half the size of Bakugo’s photo and tucked away in the corner, as if they were trying to make Midoriya invisible—which, now that he thought about it, was probably the case. In the picture, Midoriya was smiling nervously, one hand clamped on his shoulder. When he leaned in closer, he realized—with no small amount of fury—that Midoriya’s eyes were red like he’d been crying, and his uniform looked tattered.
Or burnt. . .
“Ah, Aizawa-san?. . .”
Right, he had to interrogate a principal. Lovely.
“Coming.” He turned from the boards—taking a few subtle pictures with his phone as he did—and followed the principal into a small, cramped office. Just like the rest of the school, it had clearly seen better days. He settled into the uncomfortable chair in front of the desk as Higa sat behind it. As soon as he was seated, Higa leaned back in his seat and folded his hands over his stomach.
“So, what did you want to know, Aizawa-san?”
“I came to make inquiries about Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku. They are the first two students from Aldera, and they have consistently stood out from their peers in the Hero Course.” Let the principal take that how he would. “I wanted to see what might have contributed to that, and their junior high school seemed like a reasonable place to start.”
Higa immediately perked up and smiled brightly—with just a hint of smugness. Intriguing.
“Ah yes! We were all so pleased when Bakugo-kun made it into UA, although I can’t say we were surprised. He’s a very ‘Plus Ultra’ student, isn’t he?” The principal winked exaggeratedly before continuing. “And such a perfect Quirk for heroics, too; really, he was a shoo-in.”
He tilted his head, never looking away from Higa—who, much to his satisfaction, was starting to fidget in place.
“Can you tell me your impressions of Bakugo as a student and as a peer?”
Higa didn’t hesitate, bursting into a long speech praising Bakugo—everything from his Quirk to his ‘kind and helpful personality’ to his ‘leadership skills’. It was frankly horrifying.
No wonder Bakugo’s ego is as large as it is.
Finally, he lost patience with the incessant hero worship of his least heroic student and held up a hand for silence.
“What about Midoriya Izuku?”
Higa’s face twisted.
“Well. . .I must say, everyone was rather surprised that Midoriya made it into UA. He was never. . .well, he never showed much of what could be considered heroic nature. Or even the drive to succeed, considering his grades.”
Midoriya, not heroic? Not driven? He’d never heard such bullshit in his life. But who was he to keep the principal from digging himself a deeper grave?
“Could you elaborate on that?” he asked, his voice turning silky and honey-sweet in a way that told even the most foolhardy that they needed to either run or prepare for the worst. However, Higa was apparently a new breed of stupid; he didn’t even hesitate to nod and start talking again.
“Midoriya has always been a bit of a troublesome child. He was undoubtedly jealous of our Quirked students, especially Bakugo; Bakugo was his most frequent target, after all.” Higa shook his head slowly.
He raised an eyebrow, willing his Quirk to remain inert.
“He targeted Bakugo?”
“Oh, yes! Midoriya was always picking fights with other students and then trying to pin the blame on them. He was a very unmotivated student; it’s a miracle he managed to pass his classes. And he constantly acted out in an attempt to get attention.”
Well, not a single word of that drivel was true. Midoriya loathed attention; shied away from it like it would burn him—which was most likely true, all things considered. Midoriya avoided conflicts at all costs unless it was in defense of another. And the greenette had some of the best grades in class.
By now, he had more than enough evidence of discrimination, but there was one more thing he wanted Higa to admit.
“Why would he be jealous of the Quirked students?”
Higa let out a heavy sigh, although Shota could hear the undercurrent of smugness. The bastard probably thought that he was about to expose Midoriya’s deepest secret.
Joke’s on him.
“You see, Aizawa-san, Midoriya was Quirkless!”
“Oh?” He left the question open, and Higa took the bait.
“Yes, he was Quirkless from the day he entered this school to the day he left. I’ve no idea how he managed to fake a Quirk in the Sports Festival, but I can assure you, it’s not natural.”
He supposed that Higa was partially correct, in that Midoriya’s Quirk hadn’t been his originally, but everything else he said was horrendously wrong and he was going to enjoy bursting his bubble.
He leaned forward, smiling sweetly and revelling in the shudder that went through the pathetic excuse of an educator. It seemed that Higa finally recognized that at some point during the interview, he had said something horribly wrong.
“Well, that’s all I needed to hear. Of course, it would have been nice if it wasn’t all complete drivel, but we can’t all get what we want. Now.” His smile widened into its ‘logical ruse’ form. “Allow me to inform you of something. Bakugo is the single most uncooperative, aggressive, and egotistical student I’ve ever taught, and it’s clear that your institution is partially to blame for that by how you’ve all catered to his pride. You’ve set him back substantially. But perhaps even worse, you have absolutely failed Midoriya.” His smile fell and he glared at the principal, letting his Quirk flare. “Midoriya is a dedicated, compassionate, and clever student and a fine hero. Bakugo has potential, but until his attitude improves, he will be nothing but another Endeavor, and we really don’t need another of that man.” He got to his feet, still glaring down at the cowering man. “Now then, you’ve given me lots of things to investigate. Expect an email from Nedzu asking for your security camera tapes from the past three years, as well as all incident reports involving Midoriya Izuku and/or Bakugo Katsuki. I recommend you do as he says. UA has very good lawyers.” He straightened up and headed for the door. “I’ll show myself out.”
He stalked through the halls, getting his Quirk back under control. As soon as he was outside, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and shut off the audio recording, sending the file to Nedzu. The Rat would jump at the chance to destroy another corrupt school.
He might even get a raise for bringing the school to his boss’s attention.
* About 7.87 inches