Third Person POV
Aaron reached the gates of U.A. just as a swarm of reporters harried Tenya with questions about All Might and the recent chaos. Microphones bobbed and camera shutters clicked like a hive of angry insects.
I better avoid this and sneak in, Aaron thought, ducking around the press scrum. He slipped through the crowd, feet soundless on the pavement, only to watch Eraser Head and Present Mic step forward and push the reporters back as the students filtered inside.
By the time Aaron slipped into the classroom, most of his classmates were already present. He took his usual seat and settled in. It wasn't long before Aizawa-sensei drifted in, eyes heavy as always.
"I saw the footage of your battle training," Aizawa said dryly, voice flat as flannel. "There's a lot you can do better." His gaze swept the room like a scalpel.
"You're talented—so stop being childish," he added, locking eyes with Bakugo.
"If you can use your quirk without injuring yourself, there's a lot you could do," he told Izuku.
Before Aizawa could continue, Izuku spoke up hurriedly, "I have already figured out how to use my quirk without injuring myself."
Aizawa blinked once, surprised. "Ho. Well—that's good."
"It was thanks to Aaron's advice," Izuku added. Every head turned toward Aaron.
So he finally got it down, Aaron thought with a faint smile.
"And you, Aaron. You did quite well yesterday—Momo too. Keep up the work." The praise earned a grunt from Bakugo, but nothing more.
Aizawa offered a few more blunt tips before moving on.
Next on the agenda: a class representative. Ballots were cast, murmurs rose, and when the votes were tallied, Aaron's name sat at the top, followed by Midoriya and Momo.
F** me,* Aaron thought, stunned. Midoriya and Kirishima looked at him with wide, expectant eyes—clear marks of their votes.
"Uhm—I don't think I'm suitable," Aaron said, standing. "Someone like Iida would be better."
"I don't care what you do—hurry up," Aizawa muttered as he slid back into his sleeping bag.
After a short group discussion, they decided Tenya Iida would be class representative and Momo Yaoyorozu vice-representative. Midoriya gave up his spot quietly.
...…..
Sometime later, as Aaron ate lunch in calm focus, chaos unfurled around him. Students sprinted like a flock of birds spooked at once. He kept chewing, eyes on his food. He knew it was Shigaraki declaring war, so he let it pass. Tenya's voice soon rose above the din, steadying and calming everyone; the school flowed back into routine and people drifted to their next classes.
"Now then," Aizawa announced after roll call, "today we will be doing… rescue training."
A sense of suspense threaded through the room. "Since the training takes place outdoors, we will go by bus. Hero costume or PE clothing—your choice. Meet me by the bus." He left it at that.
By the time the students gathered, all but Midoriya were suited in their hero gear—Bakugo's costume was still under repair after a certain incident. They boarded the bus and rode in a buzz of conversation. The training facility they reached breathed atmosphere: a wide compound ringed with simulated urban structures and battered concrete. Waiting at the entrance was a figure that made every student's chest tighten with recognition.
Pro Hero Thirteen led them in, stride confident, eyes sharp. She walked beside Aizawa as she explained the layout and the intentions of the day.
"Where is All Might?" Aizawa asked.
"He overdid it," Thirteen answered bluntly. "He's resting in the lounge."
"That's the height of irrationality," Aizawa sighed.
While Thirteen outlined the training objectives, Aaron's gaze drifted, searching for signs of villainous rehearsal—instinctive. When the explanation finished, the facility lights flickered and a cold, purple fog seeped into the center of the field.
A dark portal billowed—then disgorged silhouettes.
Villains poured out of that purple mist. Shigaraki strode in the middle, Nomu lumbered at his side, and Kurogiri watched with that folded-cosmos calm.
"Everyone stay here," Aizawa snapped, tone hard as a whip. "Training is called off. Those are real villains."
He pushed his goggles up, muscles coiling. "You take the kids away and contact the school. I'll hold them back." He launched himself into the chaos without another word.
"SENSEI!" cried several students, but Thirteen moved quickly, commanding and precise. She shepherded the students toward an exit—but a rippling purple mist slid to barricade the way.
Kurogiri's voice floated through the fog, flat and menacing. "We are the League of Villains. Our goal: get rid of the Symbol of Peace. He doesn't seem present—has the plan changed?"
The words landed like knives. Frozen, most of the students did nothing. Kirishima and Bakugo were exceptions—both lunged forward, fists striking—but their attacks washed harmlessly against the surrounding fog.
"You two, get back!" Thirteen barked—but the space around them twisted. Kurogiri stretched his hands and the mist swelled, swallowing the area. "My job is to scatter you," he said with a cruel, calm smile. "And to torture you to death."
...….
Aaron's POV
I watched quietly and let things happen. They needed to learn. Pain and fear sharpen resolve. Still, letting them suffer didn't mean I would stand idle where it truly mattered.
As in the original events, Iida got away and ran for help. The teleportation mist scattered us in various pockets; I landed with Tokoyami and Koji in an area hammered by a stormy sky and sleeting rain. I didn't hesitate—villains fell under the heel of my boots in quick succession while Tokoyami's Dark Shadow carved through enemies with lethal grace. Koji—blessed with an animal-befriending ability—did what he could; his quirk wasn't designed for killing fronts, but he held his ground and helped contain strays.
It didn't take long to clear our sector. "I'll go help Sensei. You two find others and assist them," I said. They nodded—no questions. We split.
Arriving near the center of USJ, I found Aizawa locked in a brutal clash. Most villains were down; only Shigaraki, Nomu, and Kurogiri remained. Aizawa's strikes had been fierce, but in this moment he was pinned—his hair no longer lifted by his quirk; the telltale pause of an exhausted hero.
Just in time, I thought. Aizawa's assault slammed into Shigaraki and was blocked. Shigaraki's grin flickered as his eyes slitted; the villain-boy's tantrum had a dangerous reach, but he was not the final form he would become. Not yet.
I stepped forward, intention clear.
Titan's Pulse — 100%.
Double Up — Activate.
BOOOOM.
Before Shigaraki could bring his decay to bear on Aizawa's elbow, a thunderous impact detonated at his side. Nomu had intercepted me—he planted himself like an unmoveable wall between me and Shigaraki.
Aizawa seized the fraction of space that opened and backed away. I followed, breathing hard but steady.
"You shouldn't be here," Aizawa said between breaths.
"I couldn't wait for you to fall, sensei. I had to help," I replied, voice oddly calm.
"Your eyes need to rest. You're the only one who can help me take him down; I'll hold him while you recover," Aizawa panted.
I hesitated, then spoke, careful with phrasing. "On my signal, deactivate this bird-brain's quirk. The punch I threw—he brushed it off like nothing. I think it's tied to his quirk." I didn't tell the truth outright; that would be suspicious.
"You cover sensei," I told Midoriya—who had been waiting for the moment to strike, eyes burning with courage.
I didn't wait for an answer. I dove back into the breach.
I knew Nomu wouldn't move against me unless Shigaraki gives his command or his life was in danger, so I targeted Shigaraki instead.
Of course, my strike was blocked by Nomu. Seeing it happen again Shigaraki finally woke out of his stupor and shouted. "KI… KILL THAT BAS*****, NOMU."
Clear Mind—focus cut clean. The world narrowed. The roar, the heat, the smear of motion—one thing lived in my sight.
Push & Pull—dampened Nomu's forward momentum, slowed the steps of that monstrous form.
With Titan's Pulse, Double Up, Clear Mind, and Push & Pull combined, I could finally keep pace with Nomu's terrifying speed.
Nomu closed in in a blink. His right fist cocked back like a wrecking ball.
BOOOM.
The punch landed. I met steel with arm and shoulder, my right hand braced by my left. The glow from Kinetic Leak vanished from my palm—briefly consumed by the impact as I siphoned some of the force into myself.
He came again—another blow—blocked by my other hand. Again I took a taste of his power, absorbing it, feeling the kinetic spark slide into me.
The third strike I ducked. I rolled under the arc and drove upward, a liver-shot punch aimed with everything I had. It connected clean, yet Nomu didn't flinch. His resilience told me what I already suspected: his quirk absorbed shock and redistributed it so blows did nothing to him. All Might had needed a creature like that to test him; Nomu was engineered to be impervious.
We traded blows like two metronomes of violence—punch, block, shove, twist. Nomu's strength was massive, but raw. He was all defenses and few subtleties—until he used that absorption.
I felt the weight of every hit. My knuckles buzzed, my ribs vibrated like struck bells. But I kept circling, kept hitting, looking for the seam. Nomu's only saving grace was his quirk. Without it, he was not All Might-level — just a giant with a hole in his logic.
I steeled myself for the next exchange.