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Izuku Midoriya was many things: a hero in training, the ninth holder of One for All, a damn nerd, and the champion of the 2137 Biannual Ultra Hero Brawl Tournament.
But perhaps most unfortunate of all: he was terminally online.
He couldn’t help himself, really. It was his duty as a hero fan to keep up to date on all the goings on of every hero he held even the slightest bit of interest in, which was most of them. Social media just happened to be an efficient way to keep himself informed, albeit at the cost of his time and attention span.
Then he became a hero himself, and things started to change. Now, he could see everyone’s opinions of him.
Not all the time, obviously. As a student, he managed to stay out of the spotlight more often than not. But that just made the times he did pop up on his own timeline all the more jarring.
Take the Sports Festival, for example. He already knew he had a problem with breaking his bones, but during the week following the event, the internet wouldn’t let him forget, thereby cementing his legacy as 1-A’s reckless kid for presumably the rest of his career.
But as annoying as that was, it paled in comparison to what people were saying about him now. For most hero students, saving a group of civilians from a burning building during their work study would earn some praise for their skills, but Izuku was different. In his case, the general public could only seem to focus on one thing…
Keyboardsmashuofjuiwehuownivn
Look at him! He’s such an adorable cinnamon roll!
Sinna_Bun
Just a cute lil softboi uwu
MechaMix8902
How can someone so strong have such a babyface?
Tired of scrolling through the comments, Izuku slammed his phone face-down on the common room table, earning an audible thunk. It wasn’t fair. Shoto and Katsuki all got praised for their work like any other hero student, but not Izuku! He apparently wasn’t ruggedly handsome enough for that, and that fact drove him to madness.
“Just when I thought they were done making assumptions based on my Quirk, they start judging me by my looks…” he muttered, ultimately unsurprised by the fact. Hero society was nothing if not shallow.
“Midoriya, are you alright?” His mutter must not have been as subtle as he thought, because he managed to draw Momo’s attention from behind the couch.
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he quickly pushed his feelings aside, as he was used to doing. “Just some social media stuff. Nothing serious.”
He hoped he’d be able to leave it at that, but Momo proved more inquisitive than he initially thought. “What exactly do you mean? I’m not familiar with social media. I primarily follow news sites.”
That was probably for the best, in Izuku’s opinion, but he addressed her query regardless. “They’re kind of similar, except social media is a lot louder and more opinionated. I was just frustrated that people were calling me an ‘adorable little cinnamon roll’. I know it’s not technically an insult, and it’s not like I go into heroics looking for praise or anything, but I at least want people to take me seriously as a hero.”
He realized he might’ve overshared a bit at the end there. But to his surprise, Momo gave him a look of familiarity. “Yes, it can be irritating at times.”
“Has it happened to you too?”
“Yes, many times.” Showing Izuku what she meant, she pulled out her phone and opened up the HeroNews app. As soon as he read the headline of the article she showed him, he perfectly understood her frustrations.
Uwabami Launches New Marketing Campaign, Along With Heir to the Yaoyorozu Corporation
Skimming through the text only confirmed his suspicions. Momo was mentioned multiple times throughout the article, but never by her hero name. At best, she was the Yaoyorozu daughter, and at worst, Uwabami’s newest sidekick.
“That’s terrible!” he exclaimed, receiving a sour nod from Momo in response.
“I suppose it can’t be helped.” She invited herself onto the couch, taking the seat beside Izuku. “The Yaoyorozu name is one of the biggest in Japan. No matter what I accomplish as a hero, people are always going to tie me back to my parents.”
“That doesn’t mean they should disregard your hero work entirely.”
She rolled her shoulders in begrudging acceptance. “Well, what can you do?”
Yes, that was the question on Izuku’s mind. What could he do? Was it possible to shift the public perception of oneself after it had already been decided by the greater public?
Izuku didn’t know, but that just meant he had to find out. “We should do something about this!” he declared, standing up from the couch in a rare display of confidence.
“Um… pardon?” His confidence immediately faltered at the perplexed look Momo sent him.
“I’m just… thinking we could do something to reclaim our images. You’re more than just some spoiled rich girl, and I’m more than just some adorable cinnamon roll. We need to make everyone else see that.”
Momo’s gaze lingered on Izuku, not deterred by the idea. “Okay… but do you have a plan in mind?”
Izuku’s stance fell even further. “N-Not really… I guess that’s why pro heroes have managers, huh.” Shame they wouldn’t be meeting with theirs until next year.
Despite Izuku’s lack of direction, the idea itself got some gears turning in Momo’s brain, something he could see as he watched her thoughtful gaze drift off elsewhere. “I think I might know where to start…”
“Really?”
“Yes… Yes!” she repeated with added excitement. “We simply need to shift our outward personas to counteract everyone’s internal preconceptions of us.” With a decision in mind, she turned to march out of the dorms with purpose, beckoning her classmate to follow. “Come now, Midoriya. We haven’t a moment to lose.”
“Uh, alright.” He picked up his pace to follow her. “Where exactly are we headed?”
———————————————
“The mall?”
“Mm-hm!” Momo gleefully nodded, already reaching into her bag for her wallet. “What better way to change our outward persona than with a simple wardrobe change?” Yes, she knew she wasn’t beating the ‘spoiled rich girl’ allegations, but it was for a worthy cause… that being not tanking the economy with her Quirk.
“I guess that makes sense.” Izuku’s red shoes and ‘shirt’ shirts did play a vital role in shaping his image. “So which store are we going to?” He hoped Momo knew her way around the place better than him. Last time he was here, he’d hardly gotten to browse the stores before Shigaraki took him hostage.
“Right here!” Momo came to a sudden stop, and Izuku peered up to see a large sign reading ‘Punx’, written out in a sharp, jagged font to sell the rebellious (yet still commercially viable) nature of the store. “Jiro showed it to me during our last mall excursion. I’m sure it’ll have everything we need.”
Izuku believed her, but only because he lacked the fashion knowledge to find a better place.
From there, it was as simple as Momo waltzing up to the front desk like she owned the place. Given her literal gold-plated credit card, she might as well have.
The cashier seemed more than happy to give the pair free rein over the store’s entire collection, which they took full advantage of. By the time half an hour had passed, Izuku and Momo were stepping out of their respective changing rooms, fully confident in their new outfits.
“How do I look?” Izuku asked, donning a slick leather jacket, a rugged pair of jeans with holes pre-installed, and a pair of jet black shades to cover up his ‘innocent baby face’.
Momo likewise picked out a leather jacket, alongside a similarly colored miniskirt and tank top that showed off a bit of her cleavage. All in all, it was still more modest than her regular hero costume. “Exceptionally tough. I hardly recognize you.” She removed the band holding her ponytail together, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. “And now I hardly recognize myself.”
“Ooh, good idea.” Following suit, Izuku licked his palm and used the saliva to slick his hair back, removing the messy curls that once added to his boyish charm. “I’m surprised we both went for a biker look, though. Like, this wasn’t coordinated at all.”
“Yes, I suppose great minds think alike.” Or more accurately, they both had the same, innocent idea of what ‘tough’ entailed. “But we’re not done looking the part yet.”
“Really? What are we missing? Tattoos?”
“No, my parents would actually disown me. But we’re still bikers, are we not?” Momo let the question linger for a moment before Izuku caught on, snapping his fingers in realization.
“Oh yeah…”
———————————————
Fortunately for them, Excitebike Motorcycles was right next door to Punx. Apparently they weren’t the only teens to go through a biker-related rebellious phase. Who’d have guessed?
“Hello. Two motorcycles, please,” Momo said to the girl at the front desk, figuring that’s how buying a vehicle worked.
“Can I see your license and registration?”
“Oh, ummmmmmmmm…”
———————————————
For completely unrelated reasons, Momo decided to forget about the economy and use her Quirk to create her own motorcycles. “See? Aren’t these great? Much better than anything the store has to offer.”
Izuku got a feel for the motorcycle, leaning forward and clutching the handlebars like he saw in the movies. “Yeah, this feels right. I bet we could do some real damage with these.”
“Really? Because with a ride like that, the only damage you’ll be doing will be self-inflicted.” Kendo appeared out of nowhere, strolling up to the motorcycles with a toolbox in hand. “Not that you did a terrible job constructing them from your Quirk, but they’re clearly not built to last. If you wanna ride them more than three times, you’re gonna wanna make a few small adjustments; tightening the foot peg, condensing the frame, adjusting the handlebars so they’re closer to the rider’s seat, maybe replace the triple clamp…” Kendo rattled on, hands dipping in and out of her toolbox as she worked on fixing all the problems she was describing, like it was second nature to her.
Izuku and Momo exchanged a pair of looks, both equally impressed. “Man, she’s cool,” Izuku stated.
“Undeniably.”
———————————————
Now that their tougher, less cinnamon-y personas had been created, all that was left to do was show them off to the rest of the school, cementing themselves as the kind of heroes who were not to be looked down upon.
Everyone seemed to get that message pretty quickly. As the pair made their way down the halls, forgoing the uniform entirely in favor of their biker getups, just about every other student had their eyes on them, gaping like fish caught in a net.
Izuku and Momo took all this attention in stride. Or at least, they tried to. Izuku in particular was glad his shades helped mask the fear in his eyes.
This perceived coolness lasted until they reached Classroom 1-A, where their classmates and teacher were already waiting for them. Unlike their old selves, they arrived at class right on time instead of five minutes before.
How rebellious.
“Hey, wassup?” Momo said, pretending to sound disinterested.
Aizawa could immediately tell that one cup of coffee wasn’t enough for him today. “What the hell is this?”
The pair hardly spared their teacher a glance as they passed his desk on the way to their seats. Though they did drop off their assignments on the way - submitted two days early instead of the usual three. “Exactly what you think it is, teach.” Izuku smoothly slid into his seat, kicking his red shoes up on the desk. Katsuki grumbled beneath his breath as they nudged his head aside.
“I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THIS IS! THIS IS ABSOLUTE ANACHY!” Iida shot up from his desk, notably more frustrated than his teacher. “Yaoyorozu, what is the meaning of this? I expected as much from Midoriya-”
“Hey! I mean, whatever…”
“But you’re the vice president! You’re supposed to help set an example for the rest of UA!”
Momo laid back in her seat, arms folded behind her head, hardly even registering Iida’s arm chops. “Oh, I’m setting an example alright. An example for myself.”
“Yup. We’re not the same goody-two-shoes we were before.” To prove his point, Izuku popped a stick of gum into his mouth, watching Iida’s rage grow in tandem with the bubble he blew.
From the sidelines, Mina playfully nudged Jiro with her elbow. “Pretty great show, right? Bet you’re losing your mind over this,” she said, her teasing grin as wide as ever.
Jiro simply cocked an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“Come on, no need to play dumb. Momo? Dressing all rebelliously? You’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life, haven’t you?”
“I mean… not really. Not sure why you’d assume that.”
“What? I thought you were into that punk-y, rebel-y crap!”
“Eh, doesn’t really suit them as much as it does me.” Her jacks twitched, picking up something from across the room. “Though a certain someone’s heartbeat would beg to differ.”
“Cease your tireless drabble at once!” Tokoyami yelled while shielding his face with his arms.
“You’re the one who outed yourself, not me!”
He wasn’t the only one whose heart started pumping at Izuku and Momo’s change in demeanor, but they all had the common sense to keep it under wraps, literally in Mineta’s case. By now, Sero had seen enough to know when to tie the purple pervert up.
“All of you, stop thirsting after these rule-breakers!” Iida ordered everyone, whose faces turned various shades of pink (purple in Mina’s case). “And YOU!” He popped Izuku’s bubble with a swift chop, splattering gum across his face. “Time and time again, you’ve proven you have no respect for authority-”
“You literally tried to murder a guy.”
“What would your mother think about this?”
“Hmmmmm…” Izuku stretched his chin, trying to picture how Inko would react to such a drastic change.
“My baby! What happened to my baby?! I hardly recognize him now!”
“She won’t mind.”
“Forget it! I have no doubts that UA will not tolerate this behavior from you nor Yaoyorozu any longer!”
That’s what he hoped, but as he turned to Aizawa for confirmation, he found that his teacher’s expression hadn’t shifted a millimeter. “I don’t really care how you present yourself in class.”
A look of betrayal filled Iida’s bespectacled face. “W-What…?”
“Why do you think I never commented on Midoriya’s messy tie, or Bakugo’s complete disregard for one? As long as you get the classwork done and work hard during heroics exercises, you can show up to class naked for all I care.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Toru moved to take off her blazer, only for Iida to shut her down with a murderous glare.
“This… This is madness! Complete madness!” He gripped his head in his hands, as if trying to prevent it from breaking apart. “I was wrong about UA. They put far too much power in the hands of the teachers! This isn’t an educational institution, it’s a madhouse!”
“If you don’t like it, then find someone from 1-B who’s willing to switch seats with you.”
“MAYBE I WILL!” With a huff, Iida turned and exited the classroom.
Seconds later, he walked back in, looking even more annoyed than before. “Nobody wanted to switch classes with me…” He plopped himself back in his desk, arms folded like a pouty child.
———————————————
When lunch rolled around later in the day, Izuku and Momo made sure to double down on their act. That way, even more people would be able to see just how rebellious and not uncool they were.
After waiting for her turn in the lunch line, refusing to cut and be perceived as rude, Momo helped herself to the large spread Lunch Rush had prepared, all while knowingly grinning at the hero. “I hope you don’t mind if I take a few extra helpings.”
A pair of damp patches bled through Lunch Rush’s oversized hat, the sight bringing him to tears, and not the bad kind. “Oh Yaoyorozu, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long!”
She cautiously blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“Your Quirk relies on your lipid stores, and yet you always eat so little during lunch! I was worried you might starve yourself one day. Here, have some more!” He gratefully shoveled even more food on her plate, to the point where she struggled to carry it back to her table.
“How’d it go?” Izuku greeted her.
“Um…” She eyes the stack of food on her tray, unable to stop herself from salivating. She had to admit, her old lunches always did leave her feeling a bit empty. “I got extra helpings. That’s all that matters. What about you?”
“I was just about to get started.” Summoning a tendril of Black Whip from his hand, he let it snake along the floor, slithering beneath the lunch table until it came to a stop at Sato’s feet. In an instant, it darted up to the boy’s lunch tray and grabbed at his sandwich before he could even blink.
Less than a second later, a single, orange-ish slice of bread was in Izuku’s hands. “See? I stole the peanut butter off Sato’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
From across the table, Sato gasped. “Wait, that was peanut butter?! I must’ve gotten the wrong tray, because I’m allergic to that stuff! That could’ve killed me! Thanks for saving my life, man!”
“Oh…” While Izuku was not opposed to saving a life, that kind of clashed with the reputation he was trying to build. “I’m starting to think this isn’t working out.”
“Likewise,” Momo nodded in agreement. “We need something to truly cement our new reputation in the eyes of the public. Something big, like a schoolyard brawl.”
“Or a death-defying stunt,” Izuku added.
“Or an even bigger fashion statement.”
“Or a drag race.”
“Pretty sure that falls under fashion statement.”
“No, the other kind of drag ra-”
“DID SOMEBODY SAY RACE?” The cafeteria doors flew open, and all eyes landed on Iida, dressed in similar biker attire to 1-A’s most rebellious students.
“Oh, hey Iida,” Izuku casually greeted. “Nice leather jacket. Are you here to join our group?”
“Wh - no I’m not! Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘if you can’t beat them, copy them profusely until you’re able to beat them at their own game?’”
Momo slowly shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“I have. I tried that against Kacchan once.”
“Well, that’s what I plan to do. I challenge you to a motorcycle race!” Iida declared, earning a series of gasps from across the cafeteria. “If you win, I promise I’ll quit complaining about your rebellious streak. But if I win, you two have to cease this foolish escapade forever.” He held out a hand, hoping for it to be shaken. “Do we have a deal?”
Izuku and Momo shared a brief glance, nodding to each other as their smiles widened. “It’s a deal!”
“Excellent,” he nodded firmly. “Now… before we begin, could I request that you provide me with a motorcycle to race with? And no, me putting on roller skates and activating my Quirk does not count. I checked.”
“Darn…” In that case, it was a good thing Momo had such a hefty lunch.
———————————————
Later that day, dozens of students gathered around UA's courtyard, cheering as the two motorcycles rolled up to the white strip of spray-painted grass they used as a starting line. That was nothing but background noise to the racers, however, their attention solely directed at their respective opponents.
“Alright, here’s how this will work!” Midnight walked past the starting line and announced (because she was the only teacher who would approve such an insane competition). “The race course will be a simple circle around UA. Whoever’s the first to complete ten laps will be crowned the winner. Is everyone ready?”
Iida squeezed his handlebars until his knuckles turned white. “Yes I am.”
Momo undid the kickstand and placed her foot on the peg. “I was born ready.”
Izuku held tightly onto Momo’s midsection, the two sharing a motorcycle for this race. “I was conceived ready.”
“In that case… Start your engines!” The rough hum of motors filled the air, and Midnight raised her checker-pattern whip into the air. “Ready, set, GO!”
And they were off, both motorcycles neck and neck as they blazed down the course at blinding speeds, racing like their lives depended on it.
…At least until they reached the first turn.
CRASH!
A collective wince rippled through the crowd as the motorcycles collided with one another, quickly becoming a mess of broken parts and mangled limbs strewn across the courtyard.
Unfortunately, neither racer knew how to ride a motorcycle.
“Owwww… my arm.” Momo struggled to concentrate enough to create a sling for her shattered appendage.
“Eh, I’m used to it,” Izuku shrugged through the pain.
“Does… this mean it’s a tie?” Iida grunted, biting his tongue as he tried to pop his dislocated arm back into place.
“No, I think she wins.” Izuku pointed back to the starting line, which had since become a finish line as Kendo completed the final lap in her own motorcycle, much to the applause of the audience.
“Great…” Dejected, Momo let her head fall to the grass. “I suppose we won’t be changing our reputations any time soon.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Izuku offered. “Look at it this way, once people see our injuries, they won’t think we’re some soft little cinnamon rolls anymore, will they?”
“I guess that makes sense.” That is, provided they never hear about how they obtained those injuries in the first place.
Maybe they could fabricate a story about a villain attack or something. Wouldn’t be off-brand for Class 1-A.