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Chapter Text

Go check out Shackles of Time by All_usions and Eternal_writes!!!!! It's another time-traveling ex-villain Izuku fic and it's AWESOME!!!!! +v+

Izuku was Quirkless.

A label that defined his whole life.

Helpless. Talentless. Useless. 

His fate was written in stone by the time he was five. Sharp words and dark bruises were engraved onto his mind and body by everyone around him. Not even his best friend, Kacchan, was spared, when his sneers and 'heroic' quirk seared into his skin. Everyone gave up on him before he could even begin. He was meant to die somewhere quietly in the background, where the world could forget that there was anyone named Izuku Midoriya.

But he was a stubborn kid. He held on because he had his mother's love. Her kisses washed away the worst of the bruises. Her warm meals filled back his empty heart. Every hug, every gift, every precious moment spent with her was what made him keep on living, no matter how cruel the world became. He would be a hero for her. He wanted to save people just like she did. He'll change the world so that there were no more kids who had to suffer like Izuku Midoriya because of their quirk or lack of it. He would do it. He would show the world what a Quirkless kid could do and shove it back in their faces. They beat him down and tried to break him, but he's stronger than their torment. He'll break the system or die trying. For his sake. For his mother's sake. For the only person who looked him in the eye after that fated doctor's appointment and told him, "Yes, you can be a hero. It'll take a lot of work and there will be a lot of difficult challenges, but I know that if there's anyone who can become the first Quirkless hero, it'll be you Izuku!"

For the longest time he carried those words with him. Even when the days grew dark and he couldn't breathe under the pressure, those words his mother spoke when he was four gave him hope. 

But like all beautiful dreams, it had to end some day. He turned fourteen. He was attacked, crushed by his idol, and saved Kacchan only to be berated by the very same heroes who stood by and did nothing to help.

It wouldn't have been all too bad. Okay, so heroes weren't all that great and the current Number One, the man he looked up to all his life, is kind of a fraud and doesn't think he'll amount to much because he's Quirkless, but that's fine. It'll be fine! He'll redouble his efforts. He'll train more, build better support items, and be able to hack so efficiently that he may as well be a ghost in the digital world. 

The phone rang. He pattered up to the landline and answered, his world shattering once again with just a handful of impersonal words. 

His mother never came home that day. 

~*~

LEAGUE OF VILLAINS STRIKE UA AND CRIPPLE ALL MIGHT!

FIRST YEARS DEAD AT USJ ATTACK!

CHAOS IN HOSU - HERO KILLER MURDERS UA STUDENT!

CLASS 1-A CURSED?

SPORTS FESTIVAL WINNER KIDNAPPED AT UA TRAINING CAMP!

T HE DEATH OF ALL MIGHT AT THE HANDS OF ALL FOR ONE!

QUIRKLESS GENED UA STUDENT TRAITOR FOR LEAGUE OF VILLAINS!

UA SHUTS DOWN AFTER PUBLIC RIOTS FOR FAILING TO PROTECT STUDENTS!

MASTERMIND OF THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS, DEKU, IS QUIRKLESS?!

HOW JAPAN CAME TO FEAR QUIRKLESS VILLAIN!

THE ABUSE OF NUMBER ONE HERO'S ENDEAVOR'S FAMILY!!

PUBLIC HERO COMMISSION RAISING CHILD SOLDIERS AS "HEROES"?!?!

NOMU RAZES TOKYO AND MUSTUFASU!!!

NOMU SPREADS TO CHINA AND KOREA - THE BEGINNING OF THE END?!?!

Where are your heroes now?

~*~

It was silent. Dead silent. It didn't matter how much the wires fizzed, the metal clanged, or the small explosions from crossed circuits sounded off in the lab.

It was silent. Dead. Everyone was dead.

Izuku grit his teeth and tried reworking the circuits once more. Fourteen-year-old him was an idiot. Those dreams of a brighter future with the League burned out when Shigaraki released an army of Nomu across Japan. He'd managed to escape with a handful of people and join up with another small group of survivors. It didn't matter that he and Toga and Dabi were villains. It didn't matter that Katsuki, Hatsume, Uraraka, and . . . and Shinsou were heroes. Those distinctions had long been blurred, and so now all they were is a group of people trying to survive an impossible situation because they were all too stubborn to just die. There was no escaping this hellscape. There was no hope for a future.

Not until recently anyway.

He connected the wires and a spark of electricity flew. There was a quiet hum of the machine whirring to life. His breath hitched, eyes wide and unbelieving as he slipped out from underneath the panel, careful not to bang his prosthetic leg against the floor again. He shot up and started scanning the controls, the gate, the power source as the machine rumbled underneath his fingertips.

He took a step back and ran his hands through his messy, greasy, tangled hair. He pulled his goggles away from his eyes and snapped them on his head. He looked at the machine in awe and let out a laugh.

"It. . . It's working. . . It's working!"

The pitter patter of feet came up from behind him and he turned around, still beaming. Standing there was a girl barely into her teens. The stained white shirt she wore was two sizes too big and had the sleeves ripped. Uraraka's faded pink jacket wrapped snugly around her frame, the sleeves rolled up to her forearms. Ripped jeans, scuffed combat boots, belts lashed securely around her hips and torso that held Toga's and Shinsou's knives. Choppily-cut white hair brushed the tips of her shoulders in ragged waves. Bright red eyes on a haggard face stared back at him. Her bangs fell over her forehead but parted at her golden horn.

His smiled tapered off into something softer, gentler. "Hey Eri."

She swallowed thickly. She marched forward, face hardened to hide the hopeful gleam in those ruby eyes in case she hadn't heard him right. Izuku's heart panged. That old ache rose back up at the sight of a kid who had to grow up too fast too soon. Even before things went to hell with the Nomu, she'd been stuck with the Yakuza. She never got the chance to experience a normal childhood.

He resolved to change it this time.

"Deku-nii . . ." She murmured, tired eyes raking over the machine. She took in every aspect of it - the soft hum, the gigantic gate, the control panel . . . Her gaze flickered back to his. "This is it?"

"Yeah, Eri," He ruffled her hair. "It's time."

She scoffed, cracking a small smile. "You're terrible."

"Got my favorite little sister in the whole wide world to laugh, didn't it?"

"You're incorrigible."

He whistled. "Big word for a short stack."

She punched his arm and he faked a gasp of pain. Her face scrunched up and she shook her head. "For Kami's sake, Deku. You were the shortest out of all of us."

He groaned. "Don't remind me. Dabi never let me forget."

Quiet chuckles that petered off. Silence passed between them. It felt unreal, almost. After years of surviving in this post-apocalyptic world, after all the people they lost, after resigning themselves to just trying to get to the next day alive, they finally had the chance to undo all of that. No more deaths. No more Nomu. No more apocalypse.

"You'll kick their butts for me, right?"

He grinned. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"An idiot?"

"Where did I go wrong with raising you?"

She patted his arm unsympathetically and sauntered over to the machine. Izuku scurried after her as she sat down on the floor. He made quick work of fastening the helmet to her head, checking over the controls one last time, and making a brief prayer in his head that this was going to work for once in his life.

An explosion rocked the base. Eri and Izuku looked at each other, paling. That blast came from two up, which meant they have a handful of minutes to get the ball rolling.

Wordlessly, Izuku fired up the machine as his little sister barred her teeth in a fierce scowl that would make Katsuki proud. Her eyes locked onto the blast door on the other side of the room. Her hands tightly gripped the knives stashed in her jacket, poised to throw at a moment's notice. Izuku flitted around the controls, fiddling with levers and cranks and buttons and switches. 

"Eri, power up now!"

A bright golden glow glimmered from under the helmet. It traveled through the wires that fed directly into the gate. With a crackle, sparks began to burst, and then a shining portal of white light encapsulated the space bordered by the metal frame.

With a crash, the door to the lab blasted open and smashed into the opposite wall in a hunk of twisted metal. A blur of silver zipped through the air and impaled the incoming Nomu in it's exposed brain with a screech of pain and fury. Eri whirled her head around to the frantic man, yelling, "Go, Deku!"

More Nomu started pouring in. Eri threw knife after after, impaling each one through the brain and eyes with a shriek of fury. "Go!"

He dashed to the portal. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as his heart screamed at him to turn around and join the battle to save Eri, his sister. 

But he can't. He whipped around one last time, committing her small frame and furious, desperate expression as she fought against the Nomu with the knives of her fallen brothers and sisters. "I love you, Eri! I'll find you!"

She grinned ferally, though it was pained and she was down to her last knife. "You better beat Chisakai to the ground for me! Love you, Deku!"

He jumped into the portal. The last thing he could see before he disappeared entirely was a Nomu reaching out for his sister and her panicked expression before her eyes caught his. 

She smiled.

Then nothing.

~*~

Izuku walked through the door of his and his mother's shared apartment, ready to collapse at a moment's notice. His nose burned with the stench of sewage clinging to his gakuran, but it's been there for so long that he could no longer smell it. He was exhausted. He'd love nothing more than to drop dead to the floor and sleep, but he didn't want to inconvenience his mother with his tired body blocking the entrance. Shower first, then change, and then collapse.

A ring jolted him out of his thoughts. He frowned, not really feeling up to answering it, but something in his gut told him that he should. Or maybe it was just nausea from swallowing that sewage. Maybe he could get mom to take him with her for a check-up at the hospital when she goes for her night shift?

He blearily stumbled over to the landline and managed to pick it up after a few tries. 

"H-hello?" He croaked.

"Is this the Midoriya residence?"

"Y-yes, this is Izuku, Inko Midoriya's son."

Silence.

". . . Midoriya-san, I'm sorry to say this, but your mother . . ."

A fog pulled over his mind. Inko Midoriya was there at the Sludge Villain attack at the shopping district. One of Kacchan's stray blasts had exploded a nearby cafe where she was enjoying her day off. Everyone was able to evacuate in time, but . . .

She died. Saving the life of a child with her body when the debris came down. She was the only casualty in the whole attack. She died.

Leaving him on his own.

He bounced from home to home. No one wanted to take care of a Quirkless child after all, whose fate was that of failure before he even had a chance to prove himself. He still went to Aldera. The jeering grew worse. His classmates all told him that it would be better if the Sludge Villain had taken him instead of Bakugou. None of them knew about the fate of his mother, because her casualty had been blotted out for sake of Bakugou. After all, what he did was an accident, and it would severely damage the victim's mental health if he were to find out he indirectly killed someone.

The next four months was torture. His mother was the only bit of light in his life, and now? Now she's gone. He wouldn't come home to gentle hugs and smiles and katsudon. He'd go to a house where the other kids picked on him and the adults turn the other way. He'd be lucky to get any dinner before it was stolen by the others. He wanted to see his mother again. He couldn't blame her for saving that kid's life. He just wished she didn't have to die in the process as well.

He gritted his teeth as he limped to that house. His body was decorated with bruises and burns, courtesy of the other kids in his classroom and Bakugou's lackeys. Should he be glad that Bakugou no longer joined in the torment? It's not like he hasn't destroyed him enough already. 

His eyes burned. His throat clogged with despair or rage, he didn't know. He ducked into an empty alleyway and ripped his backpack off his shoulders, sending it hurtling to the ground. His books, textbooks, and that stupid hero analysis journal that was burnt to a crisp spilled out into the pavement. He screamed in frustration and broke down, falling on his knees and sobbing his heart out. 

"What ails you, child?"

He sucked in a breath and his head shot up. A man in a tailored two-piece suit stood there on the other side of the alleyway. His body looked seemingly incorporeal, comprised of a dark mist that rose and disappeared like a silent flame. He had a grocery bag in one hand. His yellow eyes burned brightly in the dark.

His analysis book was open in front of his feet. 

Izuku sniffed and hastily wiped his face. He got to his feet, muttering, "S-sorry, sir, I-I didn't m-mean to bother y-you. I'll be g-g-going now." He bowed, but a sharp pain lacing his thigh had him wince and crumple back to the ground instead. 

The mist man moved forward and dropped his groceries. He caught Izuku before he fell, but he hissed as the man pressed against one of his injuries on his shoulder. He was gently lowered to the ground, the man's eyes narrowed as they scanned his body.

"You're injured. Do you have anyone you can call to come help you?"

He weakly scoffed, frustration and bitterness creeping up his throat. "No. They won't bother with a Quirkless loser like me. I'm useless."

The confession rang out in the alleyway in silence. Izuku realized with mounting horror what he just said and stammered, "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't m-m-mean to - !"

"It's alright," the mysterious man gently said. "And I would have to say, you're far from useless."

He grimaced. He shook his head, weakly smiling. "Th-thanks for t-trying to make me f-feel better, but really, I d-don't have anything g-going for me."

"That's not true," The mist man picked up the burnt notebook from the ground, and Izuku's heart lurched at the sight of it. "You're quite the observant young man. I'm certain that any of those listed here would appreciate your thoughts."

"B-but they're heroes," he weakly argued. "W-why would they listen t-to a Quirkless person like me? N-no one does."

"I would."

Izuku blinked. He scanned the man for any semblance of a lie, but his body language read that he was being honest. His breath stuttered and he whispered, "R-really?"

The man nodded. He reached out a hand. "Why not come to my home so that I can have those injuries treated? I know a few people who would love to hear about your observations of their quirks."

A spark ignited in Izuku's viridian eyes. Eyes that had been glazed and dull for the past four months. A tentative smile bloomed on his face as he hesitantly held the hand that reached out to him.  "I-I'd like that."

At that time, Izuku Midoriya disappeared into that portal. His sudden disappearance would be reported as a missing person's case, shelved and forgotten the very day it was filed as a runaway. What they didn't know was that the boy would later attend U.A.'s General Education course as Akatani Mikumo.

What they didn't know was that he would become one of the most feared villains in all of japan.

D E K U

Chapter Text

"-jump off a roof and pray you'll have a quirk in your next life!"

Cackles and pops stabbed at Izuku's migraine. He felt a second away from throwing up and these noisy idiots weren't helping. He hissed and gripped his head with one hand, counting his breathes and waiting for the pain to subside. More yelling, probably addressed to him. He needed to get away and regroup, ride out the headache and figure out where and when he is-

The shouts turned acrid. A searing pain clamped around his shoulder.

Instincts kicked in and he ripped the burning hand off of him. He moved it to the side away from his body and yanked. There was another screech and an explosion popped off, but his opponent was off-balance and tipped forward. Izuku used the momentum to brutally drive his knee into the other's gut and there was a gag. He pushed the enemy away and turned them around, slamming them onto the floor and pinning them onto the floor with their arm sticking up in the air at an odd angle. His opponent screamed and thrashed, popping noises erupted all around his foe. 

He bent the arm a little more until there was a pop. The opponent below him screeched.

He grimaced as the pain in his head. His brain was hammering the inside of his skull relentlessly. The world still blurred and swayed, and he slowly counted back up to ten and watched his breathing.

He cracked open an eye. Then the other. He fully opened his eyes and was finally able to see the person he had pinned down, spiky blonde hair and swearing death threats from a childhood long forgotten. 

Izuku squinted. "Katsuki?"

The other boy flinched but swiftly covered it up with a snarl. "LET GO OF ME YOU FREAK SO I CAN PULVERIZE YOU WORTHLESS, QUIRKLESS PEBBLE!" 

Izuku frowned, wondering what the hell he was taking about when he finally took note of his surroundings.

He was in a classroom. At Aldera Junior High. His classmates and the old decrepit teacher were staring at him agape.

Well shiz. Like hell is he dealing with this circus right now.

He swiftly collected his things with one arm, body running on autopilot as he stuffed it all into an annoyingly bright, canary yellow bag that he slung over his shoulder. He let Katsuki go and dodged the kick he sent with ease. The blonde was on his feet not even a split second later, one arm hanging limply to the side, and he roared. Right hook. Smoke. Just what he wanted.

He grabbed that arm and redirected it to the window. A huge explosion ripped through the glass and shattered it. Izuku slammed his knee into his gut, again, and Katsuki tried another kick. It made it all the easier to knock him off-balance and throw him to the two lackeys who have been standing, petrified by the whole scene. He had a handful of seconds before Katsuki came after him again, but those handful of seconds would be all he needs.

He turned around and leapt out of the window, ignoring the horrified screams and shouts that came from the classroom behind him. He hit the ground rolling and ran out of the courtyard, out of the gates, out of that hellhole they called school. He wasn't sure how far he ran. He came across a beaten down road before he collapsed to the side from exhaustion and just. . . laid there. He stared up at the bright blue sky as fluffy clouds languidly rolled past.

Time travel. They did it. They actually did it.

A small chuckle escaped his lips.

For Kami's sake. He and Eri and all the others had managed to build a time machine and he was transported back to Junior High. No Nomu apocalypse. No League of Villains. Just plain old Quirkless Deku before everything went to hell.

He counted his breathes, taking a moment to drink in their victory. Right. Okay. Time to save the future. The first thing he did, as any time traveler worth their salt would do, is check the date. He still had his phone in his backpack when he flicked it on and nearly dropped it.

It's the first day of the term. He's a third year. Today would be the day Katsuki tells him to jump, he'd be attacked by the Sludge Villain before All Might swoops in, crushes his dreams, and then swoop in a second time after the Sludge Villain goes after Katsuki.

It was also the day his mom died.

He wasted no time dialing her number with trembling hands, fingers restlessly drumming against the side of the device as it rang. There was a click.

"Hello? Izuku? Sweetie? Is something wrong?"

His breath stuttered.

". . . Baby?"

Tears poured down his cheeks. He opened his mouth but chocked on a sob instead. For the first time in years, a genuine smile split his face. "H-hey mom. . ."

"Sweetheart! What's wrong? I-I'm off-duty today so I can come pick you up from school!"

He bit his lip and wetly chuckled. He wiped a tear falling down his face and wistfully replied, "Yeah. . . Y-yeah, I'd like that."

"I'm already on my way! Can you explain to me what's happening?!"

"Um. . ." He thought about it for a moment. "I'll . . . tell you later. Today has just been . . . a pretty long day. Uh, I-I'm not at school though. Something happened and I had to leave campus early. On second thought, y-you don't need to pick me up. I'll see you when I get h-h-home."

Kami, if that doesn't send a knife straight through his heart. When the hell was the last time he'd call their apartment home? 

"A-alright. If you're sure. You may be fourteen now, Izuku, but you know you can trust your mother with anything. I can make katsudon tonight and we can put on an All Might movie!"

He snorted, laughing. "Your katsudon is the best mom. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I love you too, Izuku. Mwah! I'm almost there!"

The call ended with a click. Izuku sighed, letting all the tension bleed out of him. He felt so much lighter than he used to. Hearing his mom's voice reminded him that this was all real. He's back in the past with a second chance to make things better. A second chance to make sure his mom will be there.

He looked up.

In another life, Izuku Midoriya would walk into an underpass and be attacked by a slime villain. He would be rescued by All Might, told he couldn't become a hero, and left on a rooftop like yesterday's trash. He'd hear the explosions, save Katsuki, get scolded by Pro Heroes when they find out his Quirkless status, and go home to an impersonal call telling him his mother was dead.

In that life, society had broken him so thoroughly he became a shell. In that life, he broke the world by becoming a villain.

In this life, he stared at that same underpass that haunted his dreams, not twenty feet away from where he was lying down.

He turned around and left pretty quickly after that.

~*~

". . . So what you mean to tell me is that you're from the future where I die, you become a villain, and monsters take over the world so you and your friends built a time machine to travel back to the present to prevent all of that from happening?"

Izuku pondered over her explanation for a moment, basking in the heat of his hot chocolate and the blanket draped around his shoulders. He shrugged. "Sounds about right."

His mother stared at him. ". . . And you're certain that it wasn't a . . . a dream?"

"Nope," He took a long, loud slurp of his hot chocolate, relishing in the rich, sweet drink. Even if it did kind of flop in his stomach. Mentally, of course. "Don't think I can dream of my leg being amputated so vividly. It's kinda weird to see it back now."

". . . Uhuh," His mother turned her head away and stared off into the distance. "Izuku, baby . . . what the hell?"

He snorted. "Don't think I've ever heard you swear before, mom."

"Oh my gosh, Izuku!"

He set his drink down the table before his mother tackled him in a hug. He buried his face into her shoulder and leaned into the touch, contentedly humming as she cried her eyes out. "I really missed this, mom."

She pulled away, still crying. "I'm so sorry Izuku! You had to go through all of that because - because - !"

"Nope, I'm not having this," He firmly set his hands down on both her shoulders, looking her in the eye. "Mom, you are the most wonderful, amazing parent I could ever have. I don't blame you one bit for dying, so don't start beating yourself over it. You're alive. You're no longer in danger of death by collapsing building. That was supposed to happen today, but as you can clearly see, it didn't. So I'm not going to foster care and I won't end up becoming a villain, because honestly, being a villain sort of sucked when you have a megalomaniac breathing down your neck twenty-four seven."

She burst into another set of tears and hugged the life out of him. He patted her back, waiting for this round to subside.

"I-I-Izuku - !" She hiccupped.

"I'm alright now mom," He gently said. "I feel pretty happy right now, actually."

"Th-there's so much to take in!" She wailed.

He switched to rubbing her back instead of patting. "I'm sorry to dump all of this on you, mom. But I didn't want to keep it a secret. Not you, not ever. You don't deserve that. Plus, you'd probably figure out pretty quick something was up considering I'm not so . . . sunshine-y."

"I-I'm glad you told me baby," She sniffed, pulling away once more. She seemed to say something but then hesitated. "Izuku, s-sweetie, wh-what are you going t-to do now . . . ?"

He scratched his head, leaning back into the sofa. "I haven't thought about that. My first priority was reaching you, so I don't have a plan just yet."

"I-is it p-p-possible for y-you to tell the h-heroes about all this?"

He grimaced. "They wouldn't believe me. If a random kid were to come up to you and tell you what I just told you, would you believe them?"

She wilted. "N-no . . . I suppose not," She sighed forlornly. "I-is there anyone else y-you can go to for help?"

He shook his head. "Not without establishing a rapport with them first. I'm the only one who can change things right now."

A hand grabbed his. He turned to his mother's earnest eyes as she smiled. "You have me too, sweetie. I-I won't l-lie, I don't like you p-putting yourself in d-danger like this, but I won't be able to stop you, will I?"

He shook his head. "There's too many lives on the line, many of whom I care about. If it helps, I became one of Japan's most feared villains because of my analyses and tactical thinking, and I survived a Nomu apocalypse for years now. I can protect myself."

Her eyes softened. He knew she was staring at him like he's broken, but frankly he couldn't muster up the anger because that's exactly what he is. Broken. Even before the shizshow that was supposed to happen today, Izuku was already a corpse, battered and beaten, that walked with a smile on his face until it didn't and his hands became stained with blood. His mother verbalized none of that though. She wordlessly ruffled his head instead and he leaned into it, like a sunflower to the sun, humming contentedly. "Okay. But you have to include your mother, alright? The least I can do is support you. You're going to need all the help you can get, Izuku. I don't care if you can take down society and even monsters, this is still a task that's too big for one person to handle. Promise me you'll find more people to help you?"

He nodded. "Without a doubt."

"Good," she leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Now off to bed with you. You may mentally be a fully-grown adult, but you're in a fourteen-year-old body right now and today has been quite the day for you. You'll always be my baby, Izuku."

"Mom," He whined without any real complaint.

She smiled. "Get going. I'll call the school tomorrow and get you the week off. You need to rest if you'll be off galivanting to save the world, and I want to spend time with my baby. Kami knows we both need it."

He smiled right back. "Thanks mom. I love you."

She giggled. "I love you too sweetheart."

~*~

True to his word, Izuku spent the next few days just. . . relaxing. The school didn't mention anything about his altercation with Katsuki. Probably because they didn't want to acknowledge the Quirkless pebble who was meant to be nothing more than that, a pebble, had actually thrashed and dislocated the shoulder of their prized student who would become a hero on day.

It made the old, dull anger in him rear it's head. At the system, for failing him and Katsuki so badly that it churned out a supervillain and a hero who didn't deserve that title. Well, not yet at least. His Katsuki was one he came to begrudgingly respect, because at least he had the decency to apologize and change back when he was Mikumo in 1-C.

This Katsuki was a little whiny snitch that he couldn't wait to beat the shiz out of with his gigantic inferiority-superiority complex. 

But it was easy to shove that out of him mind when he spent more and more time with his mother. He missed going to the park for long walks with her, and getting ice cream, and going out to eat. The transition was honestly jarring. One moment, he's scavenging for food and supplies for him and Eri while working on the time machine. The next, he's back with his mom and able to taste her cooking. He thought he'd never get the chance to after she had died in the original timeline.

It was bliss. This time, it'll be better. This was all real now. He wakes up every morning thinking he'll be on the floor of the lab with Eri right beside him. He's constantly looking over his shoulder and straining his ears for any telltale signs of Nomu in the vicinity. He knows his odd habits that kept him alive are worrying his mother.

He's sleeping on the floor of his bedroom rather than his bed, because the bed is too soft and uncomfortable after getting used to sleeping on concrete.

He eats in small portions and shies away from anything heavy, save for that first hot chocolate. The result of living on scraps.

He has trouble in large crowds and open spaces where there's no where to hide.

He has insanely high pain tolerance and difficulty gauging what is "normal" for people now. As evident by his mother screaming when she saw the blackened skin of his shoulder after his initial fight with Katsuki at school. Don't worry. Nothing a bandaid couldn't fix!

So, yeah, he's happy but worrying the freak out of his mother. He's trying though. At least he's sleeping on a futon instead of the floor now.

"So what will you do now?" She murmured one night. The were set up in the living room and he was furiously scrawling away every single detail he remembered from the first timeline in a new notebook. He paused in his writing, then shrugged.

"Not sure. There's too many ways things can go wrong."

She pursed her lips. "Maybe we can take this step by step? Why not train your body first? That seems like as good as a place as any to begin."

He looked down at his scrawny limbs. He poked the flab on his arm, gulping. "Yeah, okay. Training first. Getting back up to where I was before!"

She nodded, humming approvingly. "I'm assuming you'll need a diet plan as well?"

They got to work after that. His mother was right, he needed to figure out a diet plan. Thankfully she was a nurse and had experience with patients in rehab, so she had a general idea of what they should be looking at. They composed a basic schedule of light meals that would become hopefully heavier as time progressed, as well as some light exercises he could do without risking collapse due to his light eating habits. He worked on his flexibility. He worked on his stamina by taking long walks - not jogging, his mother told him it'd be better to go for it once he ate more. He scanned hero forums and made a game of analyzing strangers on the street to keep his mind sharp after years of not having to analyze any quirks.

He even managed to get back into mechanical engineering. Thank Kami for Dagobah, he has enough resources and private space to build and test his gear without any worry of blowing up the apartment!

Plus there was hacking. He's still pretty rusty after years of not needing a computer, but he's got some practice in thanks to building the time machine. It wasn't that difficult to hack into the city cams of his surrounding area. He's still in the process of tweaking his phone so that he doesn't have to lug a laptop around the city if he wants to hack, but it's taking a while since he'd never done something like this before. Though it was easy to set up a group chat with his mom that was secure from prying eyes.

Screw you Hero Commission. He's going to enjoy taking you down this round.

He took a deep breath and sighed. His last year of Junior High was progressing differently from the original timeline. It grated on his nerves that he was getting bullied all over again. That fight with Katsuki did nothing to deter them, especially the blonde. In fact, it made the blonde come after him even harder. He could fight any of them and have them on the ground in less than a second. He could ruin any single one of their lives before their high school careers could even begin, and he could get the school shut down before half the week was over. He wanted to at least stand up for himself to get them to back off, but unfortunately, being Quirkless means that every single altercation is skewed against you. Tell the teacher that the other kids write on your desk that you're useless? They're encouraging you to do better. Get beaten up by kids to the point where you're coughing up blood? Simple teenage rough housing. Getting spider lilies on your desk every day? They're just trying to spruce up the place, Midoriya! Stop trying to demean your classmates and seek attention!

What he wouldn't give to just. Go. CRAZY. He's more lethal with an eraser than any person in that classroom with their quirk. But he has to keep his head down and pretend he's weak, Quirkless Deku, otherwise he's going to get even more flags on his record than he already did.

No wait, he can just hack the system, hm . . .

Yet another change in his life. All of his All Might memorabilia were either sold or packed away. A majority of his wall was dominated by a ridiculously huge corkboard that was thankfully bought cheap at a yard sale. On it were notes and drawings and clippings and a map marked up. Pins were everywhere. Strings even more so. He had so many things to do, and thankfully he has a whiteboard to keep track of what needs to happen.

- Save Eri from the Yakuza.

- Stop Dabi and Toga from becoming villains.

- Prevent UA from shutting down.

- Stop Shigaraki at USJ.

- Get Shinsou out of foster care.

He grimaced, bitterly remembering everything that happened to his friends and. . . Shinsou. None of them had happy lives before he met them. Which reminds him, better add getting the littlest Todoroki away from Endeavor's grasp.

He scratched his head. He has two options at this point - become a vigilante or become a hero course student. The villain thing is off the table, because there's no way he'd make it without punting Shigaraki and All for One to next Tuesday the moment he saw them. And as loathe as he is to admit, he was never able to go up against All for One no matter how many lifetimes he lived. So that option is no longer feasible.

As a vigilante however, he'll have more freedom and access to Japan's underbelly. Working outside the law allowed him to resolve the more time-sensitive issues without waiting for all the red tape that comes with it. No need to worry about his status as a hero student while interacting with Dabi and Toga, and he won't need permission to go blowing up the Eight Precept's base to rescue Eri. On the other hand, he'll lack the extensive resources and connections hero students have, plus being in 1-A guarantees a lot of interactions with the League and chances to take Shigaraki out. . .

He grimaced. So he has to choose between the ones he loves and the fate of the world. Great.

"Why not do both then?" His mother tilted her head, staring at the board. "You can become a vigilante to help all of your friends, and you can stop when you go to UA as a hero student. And if the police were to arrest you, well . . . There's nothing in the law that states Quirkless people can commit vigilantism, since you need a quirk to do that."

He stared at her for a moment before rushing up and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Mom, you're a genius!"

Which is where he found himself four months later in the dead of night. He wore a non-descript dark green hoodie over a Kevlar vest he repurposed and a shirt. He had dark, baggy pants tucked in combat boots. Shin guards. Arm guards. Motorcycle gloves and thin ski mask to hide his hair and freckles. Green googles he'd designed with state-of-the-art (or as much as it gets when working with literal junk) heat vision, night vision, and a zoom-in option. A belt full of taser disks, tracking/listening devices, exploding pellets with pepper spray, and a pair of batons with a taser feature that he can combine into a staff for mid-range combat. Plus the modified gas mask. All in all, not a flashy ensemble, but the more important thing is that this will get the job done.

His focus right now is tracking Dabi, Toga, and Shinsou down. As much as he wants to rush into the Precept's base to save Eri, he doesn't even know if Kai is their leader just yet. He doesn't trust the old boss with her because he knew from her stories that he kept her locked up like a bird in a cage. Poking around would alert them, and he didn't have the resources or strength to go toe-to-toe with them just yet. He needs to take out the entire base and make sure that they can never recover. Otherwise they'd go after Eri again and she'll never be safe. So if he wants to take out the Yakuza, he's going to need to bide his time a little longer until just before the entrance exams, because he remembers that was when their operation picked up. Is he going to have a panic attack when he sees all of his friends/family again? Yes. Is he going to cry for months when he sees Shinsou? Definitely. Oh Kami. He's gonna have nightmares after all this.

He huffed. He took out his notebook and pulled up a map of the area. He doesn't know where any of them are at this time. He knows where Shinsou will be by the time UA starts, but any time before that is up in the air because he kept running away from home and changes them constantly. Dabi and Toga were living together as roommates, and again, he has no idea where they were prior to the League. Just snippets from past conversations. Which is still a pretty broad freaking area that spans a multitude of districts, but Izuku is nothing but determined to succeed. And if he can cram in his childhood goal of becoming a hero and saving people . . . he can call it training for the hero course. And community service for his time as an ex-villain. Let him enjoy a childhood he didn't have, because he didn't realize how much he lost until he met Eri. 

He leapt from roof to roof, slowly working back into the rhythm of moving in his fourteen-year-old body. He was slowly regaining his body pre-warp bit by bit. It was still constraining to not be as energetic and freely move as he once did, but he's getting there. At least he has his leg.

A sharp cry went up from a nearby alleyway. Izuku sprinted towards it, hoping over gaps between buildings and free-falling between heights. He landed on the ground and rolled forward to minimize the impact of his leap. He dashed to the ledge and sequestered himself in the shadows, peering down from his perch to assess the situation below.

Three guys. One octopus mutation, and two unknowns, since they haven't used their quirks yet. Surrounding another guy in a rumpled business suit with a panda mutation. Standard beat up. Cash grab, most likely, if what they're yelling about wallets has anything to do.

Izuku hopped off his perch and flung two stun disks to the unknowns and drop kicked the octopus in the head. The unknowns cried out as they spasmed on the floor as electricity coursed through their veins. The octopus guy crashed his head against the wall and was simply knocked out. Izuku counted to five in his head before reaching a hand out towards the unknowns. He twisted a band on his wrist and the two metal disks whizzed to his open palm. He caught them and shoved them back into their respective pocket and zip tied them together before depositing them against the wall.

One minute. Not bad.

"Wh-wh-who are you?"

Izuku turned towards the Panda man. He was cowering against the wall with his briefcase clutched firmly against his torso like a shield. The boy vigilante shrugged, a distorted voice filtering through his mask. "Not important. Let's get those injuries treated and call the cops. Your phone work?"

"I, uh, uhm," the Panda man quickly patted down the pocket of his stained blazer. He pulled out the device and winced. The screen was shattered and it was bent at an odd angle. "S-sorry. . ."

Izuku waved him off. "No worries. I'll take care of it then."

He whipped out a burner cell and quickly dialed emergency services. There was a click and the voice said, "Hello, this is Mustufasu Police Department. What is your emergency?"

"Attempted robbery in the alleyway down Roka Avenue between Hikaru's Boutique and Everyday Florals." His distorted voice relayed. 

"I-I'm sorry, could you please repeat?"

"Victim is a middle-aged man with a Panda mutation dressed in a business suit. He's moderately injured, mainly bruises and possible broken bones, but none life-threatening."

"W-wait, who is calling-?"

He pressed the button on the phone and hung up. He refocused his efforts on bandaging the guy's arm, who winced with every loop he made.

"U-um, th-thank you," The older man murmured. 

Izuku nodded, tying up the bandage and standing. "It's not a problem. Would you like for me to walk you to entrance to wait for the police?"

"I, uh, would appreciate that very much young man." 

Izuku slung his arm over his shoulder and together, they hobbled over to the end of the alley that spilled into a wide street. He set the man down on the pavement and turned around to leave when - 

"Wait!"

He paused. The panda man shakily stood up, leaning against the wall as he gulped. "Wh-what c-can I call you?"

Izuku cocked his head. He shrugged. "Whatever you want, I guess."

He dashed away, flinging his arm up into the air and shooting out a grappling hook from his vambrace. It caught and he launched himself up and into the air, landing silently on the rooftop. He crouched down, hidden in the shadows, silently watching the situation in case something were to happen again before the police arrived and he took off.

In another world, Izuku Midoriya would have lost his mother and his faith in society, turning to villainy as a means to save himself and rewrite the broken system that failed him. In this world, Izuku Midoriya's mother was alive and would fret over her son as she checked for wounds, grilling him on his first night out as a vigilante. He wouldn't come home to beatings and bruises and abuse. He wouldn't come home to a classy bar with Kurogiri and Tomura awaiting a report on a hero to be felled. He'd come home to a warmth believed to have been lost long ago, with a woman he'd thought he would never see again.

A delicate smile curled his lips as he changed into his pajamas and tucked himself into the futon. 

Yeah. Time travel. Funny business.

Chapter Text

Naomasa wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or tear his hair out and eat his hat. He's sorely tempted to start mixing his coffee with energy drinks and tequila again. Should he be doing that as a senior detective? No. But he knows that none of his supervisors would reprimand him with a case like this dropping onto his lap.

Viridian. The name of the elusive vigilante that popped up a week ago and subsequently took all of Japan by storm. A moniker given by the police after his debut saving a salaryman with a panda mutation, and the only description they were able to glean from the poor man was the color green. Of course, the public is blissfully unaware of his existence. Only a few mentions here and there on backwater forums from the people he's saved. 

But as for the police force and every single Underground and Daylight Hero?

An legend. He took down a major drug ring, an illegal support item black market, a quarter of the gangs in Musutafu, stopped more muggings a night than Eraser has ever dealt with in an entire week, and has dropped copious amounts of information on cold cases that were reopened and subsequently solved. It doesn't matter how many blunders the cops on the case make. Viridian makes sure that those cases get closed. 

Oh. And did he mention that the vigilante somehow managed to hack into the precinct's database? A lot of people like to think that the police force is underfunded (which is. . . not a lie but nowhere as bad as the public believes), but they do boast one of the most robust systems to date. On par with most hero agencies, complete with technoquirks and firewalls that make even seasoned white hats blink twice. 

Yet this guy managed to get in. Even worse, it took them until an hour ago before they even realized it! And to top it all off, the only reason why the noticed it in the first place was because the guy had revamped their defenses and left a note on one of their servers that read, 

Here, I reworked the system and made it better. You're welcome. 

-Some Vigilante

He wanted to strangle that idiot vigilante. And eat his hat. 

So suffice to say, Viridian has caused more problems for him in the past week than Crawler and his gang ever did in the past few years. Maybe he should get in touch with them sometime? He's pretty sure he has Haimawari's number somewhere. There's always Makoto in case he can't find it. Maybe Crawler and Pop☆Step can keep an eye on the guy and see what the hell his motives are. He hopes he's got another Nice Guy situation on his hands. Someone who's doing vigilante work for the sake of being a good person, and not in the way Stendhal went about it. The world doesn't need a second Stain on their hands. Much less one that's amassing an information empire. 

He groaned once more and slammed his head down on the desk. Again, why is he the go to guy whenever it comes to these vigilante cases? Is this because of his work with the Naruhata Vigilante's? Or did the Chief figure out their connection with Makoto???? Why did Viridian have to be such a pain in the a-

The door clicked open. Naomasa blearily lifted his head, a paperclip that was stuck to his cheek clattering onto the desk. Eraser lifted a brow in response. The Pro Hero took in the Detective's haggard state, the tornado of papers and files scattered across his desk, and the trashcan overflowing with used coffee grinds. Eraser slumped over in resignation as he said, "Viridian?"

Naomasa wordlessly dropped his head back onto the table. He heard a sigh as the door closed and Eraser strode in. "What do you have on him?"

The Detective wordlessly slid the manila file over. There was a rustle of papers as the other flipped through it, swiftly going through it's contents. He stopped. "There's not a lot of information that questions his identity. Most of this file is composed of incident reports and cases that could potentially be linked to him. The age range is fairly large too. And support items?"

Naomasa pinched the bridge of his nose. He winced as Eraser poured over the painfully thin file for their latest vigilante case. "He uses a voice modifier and a burner phone to call crimes in when the victim doesn't have access to their phone. From the description we have of him, he's short enough to be in junior high, but the way he carries himself and his skillset puts him on par with most adults. His height could be the result of a mutation, which also explains why he's completely clothed if he has identifiers that are mutation-specific. They have him pegged around twenties at least. The kid theory is still on the table, but it's looking less and less likely by the passing day. The support items are a mystery though. I have a team out surveying the black market for anything like he has, but there's nothing so far."

"Either a private supplier or he's making them himself," Eraser concluded. 

Naomasa nodded. "Could be. He seems intelligent enough to pull it off. In any case, we're still looking into the supplier theory for now. Those support items of his are pretty dangerous if they hit the black market, and if they came from a supplier then we need to stop it now. Once we get a hit, all we have to do is swoop in, arrest them, and see if we can get a lead out of them."

The other man grunted. He turned back to the folder. "No records of illegal quirk usage. Statements from victims are vague at best. Criminals state he was too fast for any of them to make out before they were knocked out."

"So far we think he has a mental quirk or a minor physical enhancement quirk," Naomasa sighed, massaging his temples. "A technoquirk is the strongest possibility right now, since he managed to hack our system's database and revamp it."

Eraser's head snapped up. "What?"

"I know, we just found out today!" He bemoaned. "I don't even want to think about what this guy would do if he slips. You and I both know how easy it is for a vigilante to turn villain, and if a guy who can bypass the precinct's firewalls, obtain information that Heroes and the police couldn't, and take down multiple criminal organizations in the span of a week were to go dark . . ."

The other man grimaced. "I'm aware. How many Heroes have been sent after him?"

"Ten," Naomasa bluntly stated. "One of them even had a tracking quirk, but none of them has even caught a glimpse of this guy. The precinct is getting pretty desperate as you can already tell."

Eraser grunted in affirmation. "Am I to arrest him?"

"Officially? Yes," Naomasa scratched the back of his head and sighed. "But there are talks going around about whether we should jail him or rehabilitate him. No one can deny the amount of good he's done. And I know it's been a week, but he's making it very clear that it'll be impossible to take him in by force. So it would be better to establish a connection with the guy before bringing him down. Honestly, he'd be a pretty darn good detective for the police force, or even an Underground Hero like you Eraser."

The man scoffed. "I'll see it with my own eyes. Anything else I should be informed of?"

"Mmm," Naomasa crossed his arms. "From the few interactions we're able to glean, he's blunt and gets straight to the point, but remains relatively compassionate. The victims all mention that he stayed with them to check over them to make sure they're alright before the police showed up. He patches up the worst ones and leaves the rest to paramedics. None of it looks professional, but it gets the job done. So it's safe to conclude he's had a lot of experiences fixing people up."

"Do we know why? Part of an underground fighting ring? Gang member? Domestic abuse?" 

He shook his head. "Too early to tell. It can't be the first option, since the vigilante's work matches none of what we've seen from the doctors at fighting rings, but the other two are still up for debate."

A sharp nod. "Got it. Is that all?"

"Yeah," Naomasa. "He operates around Mustufasu in the early evenings, roughly between nineteen hundred hours and one in the morning. Should I put out a notice to nearby agencies that you'll be changing your hours?"

"It's better that way. I'll be taking my leave now."

"Right. Oh, and Eraser?"

The hero paused but made no move to turn around. Naomasa huffed amusedly. "Let's go for drinks after this case wraps up. We should probably swing by Naruhata sometime and see how Haimawari and the others are doing."

Eraser grunted. He gave no answer to the invitation and left.

~*~

A small, dark figure leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Flashes of green illuminated by moonlight before plunging back between shadowed buildings. Shouta eyed the vigilante as he vaulted over a large ac unit and disappeared behind it.

Viridian. The nickname given to the elusive vigilante by the police. The hero could see why Tsukuachi had said the suspect was initially believed to be a kid - he was tiny. Tinier than any of Shouta's students, and he would have gone with the assumption that this was just a kid but his movements said otherwise. Fluid. Graceful. Silent. Not a single action wasted. It couldn't be a Quirk because he activated Erasure when the vigilante was dashing across a flat roof (he didn't do it when he jumped because falling from that height was dangerous), but the kid didn't even stutter in his run. The vigilante moved with a form that belied experience accumulated from years' worth of practice. Parkour classes? No, those movements didn't have the same structure. It's more like they came from trial-and-error rather than any professional training. He'd have to look into local parkour groups and see if he can find a lead there.

A short cry went up before it was abruptly cut off. Viridian immediately changed course and took off towards the disturbance, Shouta hot on his heels. The vigilante dropped down over the edge of the building and Shouta stopped, opting to hide in the shadows and observe the fight than drop down and blow his cover. But he was still tense and ready to jump down at any time.

Turns out his assistance was unneeded. The man watched as the vigilante drop kicked one of the villains in the face and sent him crashing into a pile of garbage bags. The other three whipped their attention away from the young couple they were harassing and to the newcomer instead. Viridian threw something at the trio, but a woman swiftly stepped forward with a scowl and swiped her arm to the side. The small projectiles abruptly switched directions as if yanked by an unseen force. They clattered harmlessly against the brick wall before falling to the ground. The woman sneered, saying something that was too far for Shouta to make out, but in the dim lighting he could vaguely lip read . . . Fancy tools? A taunt then.  

The criminals charged forward, hands in fists and feet aimed to kick in an all-out brawl. Viridian dodged the first punch easily enough, but the second one grazed his arm. He didn't falter though. He simply twisted while pulling something out of his belt and struck one of the villains with a bird mutation quirk up across the jaw and sent him stumbling back. A baton. Thick, made more for clubbing larger opponents than standard police-issued ones. The third villain punched his fists together twice before a low rumble was heard. His hands turned a reddish-brown and craggy - his hands transform into rocks, Shouta noted - and he charged forward, fists swinging at the vigilante. Viridian kept his distance and danced around the wild swipes. The vigilante was both small and had a fairly lithe frame, so it wasn't a stretch to conclude that he wasn't built to take or deliver heavy attacks. Did he rely on speed and surprise to take out his enemies then?

Viridian ducked underneath another punch. Instead of moving to the side as Shouta predicted, the vigilante grabbed the villain's forearm and delivered a devastating kick to the man's solar plexus. He watched as a man twice the vigilante's size crumple over with a groan. Viridian smacked him against the temple with the butt of his baton and the man went down. 

Shouta revised his earlier assessment. Apparently the vigilante was a heavy hitter as well. 

It didn't take long for the fight to end with four of the villains knocked out and tied up against each other. He watched as Viridian straightened and fiddle with something on his wrist. The little projectiles that were thrown against the wall earlier zipped into his open palm and stashed away in the pocket of his belt. He approached the two girls huddled together against the wall, crouching down and speaking softly in hushed tones.

He'll admit, he's curious what those projectiles did. The fact they had a recall option was interesting. Most heroes that utilize projectile-based support items typically go for one-and-done route, which questions the type of supplier Viridian has for his gear. Perhaps they have limited resources, so they created a recall ability to minimize expenses? Or maybe as a way to remove evidence that could be traced back to Viridian and his supplier?

Viridian stood up from where the couple sat, noticeably calmer than they were a few minutes ago. One of them had dialed the police and left them on the line. Other spoke to the vigilante and he tilted his head, but Shouta couldn't make out his response because he was stuck staring at his back from this angle. The girls nodded and went back to cuddling the other in comfort, one kissing the other's forehead and running her hands through the other girl's short blue hair to calm her down. Viridian dashed down the alley in the other direction and raised his fist into the air with a silent thwick. A puff of smoke came from his wrist and something shot out from it, embedding itself into the ledge of the rooftop Shouta perched on. He melted back further into the shadows and gripped his capture weapon at the ready. Viridian zipped upwards, executed a somersault, and landed gracefully on the roof before sprinting away, Shouta swiftly following as the vigilante dropped from the rooftop and onto the next. He raced to the edge and prepared to leap off but abruptly came to a halt instead.

His eyes scanned the next building. He searched the other rooftops only to see them devoid of life. He glanced down in alarm, wondering if the Vigilante somehow made a misstep and fell three stories to the pavement when a robotic chuckle broke his thoughts. He whipped around and looked up.

There, couching on top of the rooftop access, was a small figure wreathed in moonlight. Round, green googles burned an acidic glow under the darkness of his hood. Now that he was closer, Shouta could make out the details of his costume which was . . . practical, in a word. His clothes were fairly nondescript, a far cry from the flashy costumes most vigilantes gravitated towards. He noted the elbow and shin guards in addition to the vambraces on both of his arms. His boots were black but steel-tipped. 

Shouta quickly rearranged his stance to hide his surprise. "Viridian."

He cocked his head curiously. "Is that what they're calling me?" 

He lifted an eyebrow, scanning his body for any tells. "You weren't aware?"

"No," the vigilante easily answered. "I'm honestly surprised. I wasn't aware the police could come up with such a creative name for little ol' me. Or perhaps it was the media? They're always looking for a scoop, the vultures."

Is he not in this for attention or just putting on an act?

He snorted, almost like he was responding to the unspoken question. "No. I prefer the spotlight as far away from me as it possibly can, like you Eraserhead."

Bells shrieked in his mind. His guard was up but forced his expression to remain as neutral as it always had since the start of this discussion. "You know me."

"The scarf and the goggles are a dead give away," He tilted his head to the other side. "I'm surprised you haven't tried arresting me yet. Do the police need me for something?"

Am I too valuable to be captured? Or can you simply not do it?

The silent question left unanswered. Of course, he was right on both accounts, but the vigilante doesn't need to be aware of that. 

"I'd like your name and address, for one," He quipped instead. "The sooner you tell us, the easier it'll be for you. You can negotiate for a lighter sentence if you give yourself up willingly to the police."

Viridian laughed. It was stuttered and filtered through a dozen different scramblers that the noise grated on his ears. It was worse than Hizashi's quirked screams or of a dying cat in the summer heat. 

"Nice try Eraser, but you're gonna have to do a better job of tripping me up," Shouta couldn't see it, but he knows the vigilante was giving him a cheeky grin under that mask. Good. Let him think he has the upper hand. "Don't worry, hero. If things go right, I won't be sticking around for long."

His brain screeched to a halt. The worst scenarios jumped to the forefront of his mind and he did his best to suppress his panic. What the hell did that mean?

Viridian's irritating laughter pierced through his thoughts once again. "Wow, Eraser! I've never seen you so worried before! Aww, do you actually care about me even though it's just our first meeting?"

"I care about getting you off the streets and behind bars," He spat.

"Cute. Good luck with that, but I doubt you'll be able to capture me before I'm gone."

His expression hardened and he scowled. "Enough games. Why appear just to disappear? Just what is your goal?"

Silence rang out between them. Their clothes rustled as a light summer breeze blustered past. Viridian's head was still tilted in innocent confusion, but Shouta noted the way his fists momentarily tightened. 

Why?

". . . I'm not the one in danger, but there are others out there I'm trying to help," Viridian finally said, voice oddly soft. "Once I'm done, I'll be gone. It'll be like I was never there."

"You could help in more legal ways," He gruffly pointed out. "Like becoming a Police Detective. Or a Hero."

A quiet scoff. "By the time I do that, it'll already be too late for everyone."

His suspicions only grew further. This. . . this didn't sound like someone who got impatient with bureaucracy and decided it would be faster if they became a vigilante. This sounded like someone who had a personal stake in the people he was protecting. "Why would you say that?"

Silence. 

And then, "Something big is gonna happen next year, and I'm trying to prevent it while I still can."

Something was wrong. Incredibly wrong. The alarm bells were louder and the way he spoke with such finality like he was certain it would happen was startling. "Viridian," He cautiously broached. "Whatever it is that you're dealing with, you can go to the police or heroes for help - "

The vigilante shook his head. "Now's not the right time for that. None of you would believe me, even if you had the police's Lie Detector interrogate me. Maybe I'll be able to tell you in the future when I have more of your trust, but in the meantime, I need to do this on my own."

He growled, "Viridian -"

He abruptly stood up and finger saluted, cheerily saying, "See ya, Eraser!" 

He tipped back and fell down off the building, Shouta rushing to the edge to make sure that stupid vigilante didn't kill himself, but no. He just. . . disappeared.

Shouta sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. He grimaced. He swiftly pulled up his cell and leaned against the shade of the building as it dialed. It went through and a tired voice answered, "Hello? Eraser?"

"I met our vigilante."

There was a scuffle on the other end and a brief swear. "You did? What happened?"

"He came to me," He swiftly answered. "Said he wanted a chat."

Another swear on the other end of the line. "This is just . . . wow. Alright. This is the furthest we've ever gotten. I can't believe this!" 

"I'm aware, now pay attention. I learned something new about Viridian you'll want to add to his files."

More shuffling. A click of a pen and suddenly the Detective switched into talking business. "What do you have?"

Shouta took a deep breath. He recounted his exchange with the vigilante - every cryptic phrase, every doubt, and how the vigilante was the one seeking for their trust and not the other way around. It was baffling.

And he can practically feel Tsukauchi's confusion as well on the other end of the line. "So we have a vigilante that - what - is . . . trying to prevent some sort of tragedy? Something that even I wouldn't be able confirm?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what the nature of it is?"

"Unclear."

"Alright," A brief pause, filled with the sound of scribbling. "Anything else?"

Shouta frowned. He's a man who prided himself on being rational, but the way Viridian spoke was . . . 

"Eraser?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "He spoke as if he were talking about the end of the world. As illogical as it sounds, he seemed convinced of it. He certainly seems like the dramatic type."

The man on the other end of the phone groaned. "Okay. I see. Keep an eye out for him? I'll parse through all of the cases and see if there's a connection for whatever he's looking for. There was that trafficking ring bust a while back, so I'll see if I can figure out a lead from there."

"Already on it," He grumbled. Shouta ended the call and pocketed his cell, sighing. 

He's gonna need Tsukuachi's coffee, energy drink, and vodka mix for this. 

~*~

Izuku marked off another task on his ever-growing list of things to do.

Get in contact with Eraserhead and drop hints that something big is about to happen - check!

He remembered the man in his past life. Stoic. Cold. Uncaring.

But all of that was just a mask. He jumped headfirst into a crowd of villains at the USJ without hesitation despite knowing he'd be at a huge disadvantage. His crowd control skills are weak compared to Thirteen, yet he didn't think twice about engaging with the enemy if it meant protecting his students. Then months later, the hero approached him after the Sports Festival and offered to train him up to a seat in the hero course next year. The notion absolutely floored him. Aizawa knew he was Quirkless. He knew that only those with strong quirks ever managed to become heroes. And yet he believed that out of all them, Deku was someone who could be a hero?

His first instinct was to say yes, because once upon a time, he was a naïve little kid who dreamed of becoming a Hero and wanted to find one person who would tell him he can and meant it.

But. . . then he remembered why he was at U.A. He remembered what he did to this man's students that he fought so hard to protect, only to loose two of them in the process. It was his fault that the man had a scar under his eye, quirk permanently impaired, and exhaustion weighing down on his shoulders even more than usual.

Besides, it would be harder to explain his constant disappearances with all the attention as the Quirkless kid in U.A.'s infamous Hell Class. He operated better as an observer rather than a participant anyways.

So he respectfully declined, stating some nonsense about wanting to be quirk analyst, and being a hero was a dream he's long since given up on. Which wasn't exactly a lie. Aizawa didn't need to know that he was the League of Villain's quirk analyst on top of being their main strategist.

He didn't need to know how many "heroes" he lead to their deaths.

Another sigh as he fingered the string tethering Aizawa and Shinsou together. He can work on this connection first. Dabi and Toga are meant to be off the grid, but Shinsou isn't. He can get Shinsou out from whatever hellhole he's stuck in now that he has established contact with Aizawa. He'll still adopt him, right?

He huffed.

Yet another thing he needs to figure out thanks to the whole time traveling business. Maybe he can blackmail the Yamazawa couple into taking him in? No, wait, then their relationship would be stilted, and that's not what Shinsou needs. But then again, he might not have a choice if Shinsou is in danger. Decisions, decisions.

A knock on the door.

"Sweetie?" His mother's voice worriedly called. "You've been muttering to yourself for a while now. School will be starting in a bit. Do you want me to call them and tell them you're sick?"

"No, I'm fine mom!" He called out, pulling the false wall he made down over the corkboard and making it look like it never even existed in the first place. "I'll be out in a moment!"

"Alright. Are you certain that you don't want me to pull you out of Aldera and place you in online courses instead?"

"I'm sure! I need to keep an eye on Katsuki to make sure he mellows out more before UA!"

A sigh. "Alright, sweetheart. I trust you know what you're doing. Is there anything more I can do to help out?"

Izuku opened the door, fully dressed and ready for school. He smiled and opened his arms. "Hugs, kisses, and you being here?"

His mother's worried face softened and she embraced him. He snuggled further into the hug as she kissed his forehead. "Of course, baby. You know I love you very much, Izuku."

"Love you too, mom," He beamed, pulling away. He scarfed down his breakfast, grabbed his shoes, and was out the door with a cheerful goodbye to the woman who raised him for the first fourteen years of his life. He sighed, blissfully enjoying the warm sunlight as he walked down the busy streets to that corrupted cesspool they call a school.

He paused in the middle of the road. "I know you're there, Katsuki."

Silence. Then a tongue clicking. A familiar blonde walked into view, hunched over, hands shoved inside his pockets, effervescent scowl permanently fixated on his face. The cast from when Izuku dislocated his shoulder was off, he dully noted. Yet the sight of his bully-turned-brother-in-arms had Izuku flinching. You'd think after years of separation and subsequent companionship during the Nomu apocalypse would have trained him out of it, but no. He's had an entire childhood wrecked because of the blonde and no amount of time traveling is going to fix it. He knows in hindsight that it wasn't entirely his fault, and that a portion of the blame lay on everyone around them for stroking his ego to the point of mentally crippling him by the time he hit UA and had to undergo intensive therapy. REALLY intensive therapy. He was booted to GenEd a week into his first year before proving himself during the Festival and making his way back up that second year. The Katsuki Bakugou in Izuku's future was still rough and temperamental, but he honed it towards the enemy instead of the people he was supposed to protecting.

But this Katsuki was still the nightmare of his childhood. Original timeline Katsuki better be thanking him after all the shiz Izuku's going to put up with.

"Deku," The blonde sneered. "What the hell's been up with you these past few months? You pull that shiz in class, disappear for a week, and then you're back and you're less nerdy than usual."

He kept his expression neutral. "Why do you care?"

"Hah?!" That sneer turned into a scowl and his hands started popping dangerously. "What the hell's are you talking about, nerd?! Of course I don't! You're - !"

"Then leave."

Katsuki took a step towards him with a glower that would bring anyone weaker to their knees. "I'll do whatever the hell I want, stupid nerd!"

Izuku frowned. "Then why do you keep stalking me?"

"I ain't stalking, you freak of nature - !"

"You followed me for the past two blocks, so I think the evidence speaks for itself."

"BULLSHIZ, LIKE HELL I'D ACTUALLY FOLLOW YOU - !"

"Then why are you still here?" Izuku snapped. "Are you looking for a nice, quiet place to beat me down again? Waiting for the perfect alleyway to shove me into? You know, I can't count how many broken bones and scars I've collected thanks to you. You came close to puncturing my lung that one time when we were six though. Remember? I think it was after I tried to invite you to my birthday. I had fun eating cake in bed as my mother cried."

He could see discomfort flash across his eyes for a brief second before he sneered. "Oh boohoo, poor you. You wouldn't be stuck in a hospital bed if you had fought back."

"I wasn't in a hospital."

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. "The hell - ? Of course you were in a hospital-"

"Uh, no," Izuku exasperatedly countered. "There's no hospital around here that treats Quirkless patients. My mom had to call in a colleague from her workplace to patch me up. He tried to extort her too, you know that?"

He paused. "Wha-? You're lying! They're a hospital! They can't refuse a person treatment just because you don't have a quirk!"

Izuku raised one eyebrow. "Have you even seen our school? Didn't you notice how our teacher did absolutely jack shiz when you told me to take a swan dive off the roof?"

He scowled. "That's because it was a joke, you dumb Deku!"

"If I jump, then I'll tie your feet to a rock and throw you into the ocean to drown."

He recoiled, as if struck. "What?"

Izuku smiled prettily. "It was a joke, Katsuki."

Red flooded the blonde's vision and he shrieked, "YOU MOTHERFUDGER - !"

He swung his arms forward to deliver a blast, but Izuku was prepared for this. He deftly stepped back and brought a small, bendy pipe attached to his bag and pushed down on the nozzle. 

A thick, misty spray of water shot out of the pipe and instantly doused Katsuki. He screamed and backed away, sufficiently damp with dew collected all over his face as he snarled. "DEKU!"

Izuku calmly watched as he threw his hands forward and released a blast.

Well. He tried to, at least. 

Izuku smiled as Katsuki stood there with his palms outstretched, frozen, unable to understand why his quirk wasn't activating. He could see the moment it clicked for him. He roared and tried to punch him, but it was easy to side step him, grab his wrist, and then pin him to the ground in the same move he did all those months ago. 

He raged in his grip and screamed, "Let me go you fudger - !"

Izuku clicked his tongue, like he was dealing with a disobedient dog and not a human being. "So what? You can turn me into your personal punching bag again? Heck no, I'll skip the bruises and burns I'd get from releasing you."

"You-!"

"Oh, would you look at the time!" He pulled out his phone and drawled. "There's ten minutes left until homeroom and you're all wet and covered in dirt and gravel. I can knock you out and leave you here, breaking your perfect record and making you late for school, or I can let you with a promise that you won't attack me. Ten minutes is enough time to run back to your house, get changed, and come charging back to school before the bell rings. So what'll it be, Katsuki?"

He screamed, "I said let go - !"

He put more pressure on his arm and he let out a strangled yell. "I said," Izuku hissed. "What. will. it. be?"

The blonde kept snarling for a moment. "Second option."

Izuku stepped off his back and promptly let go of his arm. Katsuki swiftly rolled away and jumped right back up, scowling. "This ain't over, Deku. I'm going to beat you afterschool."

Deku grinned. "I look forward to our meeting, Katsuki."

He growled even lower. The blonde intentionally bumped into his shoulder as he walked past. Even without turning around, Izuku could sense the red-eyed glare trained on his back as the green-headed boy stood there in the middle of the road, completely alone. Izuku waited until Katsuki turned the corner and the feeling faded before breaking out a small, genuine grin.

Hopefully this will be the push he needs to grow. 

Chapter Text

Something big happened to the nerd. Something really effing serious.

Katsuki glanced at Deku from the corner of his eye. The nerd sat down and was completely engrossed with something in his notebook that definitely wasn't about math. That screw up wasn't even paying attention to the stupid lecture! Is he looking down on Katsuki?! Normally he'd be keeping his head down and writing whatever that stupid freaking teacher was saying word for word, but now that idiot didn't seem to care! And what the hell is up with everyone else?! He knows the rest of the extras are blind, but are they really that oblivious to the change in Deku?! Shouldn't the teachers be pulling him aside to talk to him or some shiz?!?!

He snapped his pencil. Katsuki scowled at the offending stick before swapping it out with another pencil.

No one can see it. Deku did something to pull the wool over their eyes, like always, but Katsuki can see right through his charade. He's still quiet, he's still the class punching bag, he's still acting withdrawn, but there's something else there now. His shoulders would be hunched over to make himself look meek and small, but now they're hunched because he's tired. When he flips through his journal, there's no mumbling. When he went to beat him up, Deku didn't snivel and fidget and stammer himself out of it like a coward. He just stood there, silent, with a hard glint in his eye like he was gearing up for war. Ugh, Kami, his eyes. They used to be so wide and bright. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to beat them out of him, his green eyes would always shine brighter than the freaking sun.

And now? Now it's just. . . gone. There's no shine. There's no light. Just dead, flat, green eyes that glazed over whenever Deku saw him.

It's not his fault.  It's not his fault. He pushes the choking sensation at the back of his throat down. He's not the one responsible for putting that dead look in his eyes

It was infuriating. He wanted to beat the nerd to a pulp until he went back to being the same spineless, useless coward he's been since they were toddlers. He wanted the nerd to start mumbling and fidgeting and looking at him with bright eyes and not. . . not whatever the hell this is supposed to be.

"Why do you care?"

"I wasn't in a hospital. There's no hospital around here that treats Quirkless patients."

"Have you even seen our school? Didn't you notice how our teacher did absolutely jack shiz when you told me to take a swan dive off the roof?"

"Are you proud of yourself Katsuki? Of beating up the useless, Quirkless kid just because you can? That's what a HERO does, isn't it?"

An explosion sounded off. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to him. Katsuki glared at his hand, traitorous smoke rising up from his shaking palm as his pencil lay charred and broken on his desk.

"Bakugou, please refrain from using your quirk during the lesson," The teacher blandly drawled. He turned back to the board, writing in chalk. "Now if you all look here, if you substitute . . ."

Katsuki gritted his teeth and grabbed another pencil. He furiously tackled his notes. Whatever is going on with the nerd, he was going to find out.

He doesn't feel guilty for telling him to die and turning his childhood friend into a walking corpse. He didn't feel believe what Deku said about the hospital and their school. 

He's just been protecting that stupid nerd from going into a profession that would get him killed instantly. That's what Heroes do, no matter how many burns and bruises and broken bones he had to give him. 

Heroes don't hurt civilians.

Only Villains do. 

~*~

"Doo da doo~! La dee da dee doo dah~!"

Mei hummed to herself as she tweaked a bolt onto her newest baby. She was at her parent's old warehouse down by the docks. She knew her parents would be worried if they knew where she was, but no matter how much she tells them about all the new babies she's added to the warehouse's defense system, they're still not convinced. Excuse you, but she's made sure that the moment someone sets foot in this place without her permission, her babies will scare the ever living daylights out of them and turn 'em religious. She's built a stronghold for herself! There's no way anyone could possibly - !

A rapping noise brought her out of her workflow. She lowered herself down from the ceiling where she was working on her baby and shrugged off the harness. She glanced curiously at the door leading to the hidden basement where she worked. This. . . this didn't make sense. Someone bypassed the security protocols she set up in the warehouse above their heads?

Another rap followed, but this. . . this followed a pattern. Two raps. Followed by three seconds of the silence. Then a light tap on the upper left corner, a dragging sound, a harder knock on the top right, and then a secret third knock made by banging your foot against the door and making it seem like an accident.

Her eyes zoomed in on the door. She strode towards it and made a quick series of knocks on the door. The other person responded with a series of slow knocks. Her eyes widened.

She made quick work of undoing the series of bolts and traps attached to the door and swung it wide open, beaming. A smaller kid with fluffy green hair and freckles beamed back at her with the same amount of enthusiasm, nearly jumping up and down.

"Mei Hatsume, future CEO of Hatsume Industries?" The unfamiliar kid asked.

"That's me!" She crowed.

His smile grew even wider. "Perfect. Form TF-2."

She gasped, her quirk going haywire as she zoomed in and took note of as much detail of this kid as she could. She squealed and bounced up and down, pumping her fists in the air and yelling, "Yes! I knew there would be time travelers who would admire my brilliant babies! Whoohoo!"

The kid chuckled. "It's good to see you again, Meimei."

She dragged the kid inside and pushed him down into her spinny chair. She grabbed one of her old babies that needed to be scrapped and sat on it, looking at him eagerly. "Tell me, Greenie! How do I know you in the future?! What's it like?! How famous will Hatsume Industries and my babies be?!?!"

His smile slipped off his face. She was confused until her own smile fell at the realization.

"Oh," She said, suddenly not as excited as before. "Something bad happened, didn't it?"

He sighed and hung his head. "Yeah," He muttered. "Something very bad."

And so Greenie told her about a future that had come to past. How he was her friend once, fighting side by side in an apocalypse with other people, until they were the last ones left working on a time machine that would fix things. He told her how they were all supposed to go together. A team united in one goal of changing the future.

He told her that he made it back alone.

~*~

Ochako was manning the late night shift at the convenience store with her senpai, Kazuho Haneyama. She'd been kind enough to share her apartment to Ochako after she transferred to Mustufasu for her final year in Junior High. She was a college student who was a friend of a friend of a cousin or something to her parents, but that didn't stop the pink-haired, glasses-wearing gal from opening her door up to a Junior High kid. The tuition at her new school was cheaper on her parents, and Ochako would be able to work a bit to help alleviate her personal expenditures so they wouldn't have to bear the burden. She knows how guilty her parents were. But she resolved to become a hero so that she can rake in the big bucks. That way her parents would never have to worry about cash ever again!

"Ah. Hey, Ochako-chan? Would you man the store for a bit?"

She perked up from shelving the onigiri. "Sure, Kazuho-senpai! Why do you need to?"

She grinned sheepishly and held up her phone. "One of my friends got caught up in a small accident with a bicycle near here and needs someone to help patch him up."

"Oh no!" She gasped. "Is he okay?"

"Yup! Nothing slapping a band-aid won't fix!" She beamed. "I'll only be out for twenty minutes, tops! I trust you know how to work the register?"

"That I do!"

"Alright then, I'll see you in a bit Ochako-chan! Bye ~ !"

She disappeared into the employee's room out back. Ochako retied the handkerchief that kept her hair out of her face and smoothed out her work apron before going back to stacking the unagi onigiri in the fridge. The automatic doors chimed as someone approached and the doors rolled smoothly open.

She jumped as a slam came from the front and the onigiri tumbled to the floor. She whipped around to see a burly woman standing there scowling, one foot pressed on top of a promotional shelf of shampoo she knocked over. She had her fingers outstretched towards Ochaco and she squeaked. Long, needle-sharp protrusions extended from her nails and were pointed directly at the girl.

"Hey!"

Ochaco's eyes snapped up to the lady, terrified. She growled, "My quirk allows me to shoot spikes from my fingertips. I don't need to tell you what'll happen if you don't cooperate."

Her mouth was dry as she quickly nodded. The robber huffed. "Good. Now be a good little girl and open the register. And keep your hands where I can see them!"

Ochaco took deep breaths to calm her nerves as she shakily raised both hands beside her head. She shuffled towards the counter on trembling knees, trying to stave off the fear of dying. She reached the cash register and shakily began typing in the commands. The robber's growls became even more apparent and she yelled, "Hurry up already!"

She flinched and frantically input the code for the register, popping the drawer open. The robber set down her purse (she kinda expected to see a duffle bag. . .) and ordered, "Put the cash in here. All of it!"

Ochaco was about to pick up the first few bills when a new, oddly synthetic-sounding voice said, "Well. That's not very nice."

The robber tensed and whirled around to face the newcomer yelping, "What the - ?!"

The new guy jammed two rod-looking things into the robber's gut and she spasmed. She fell to the side, twitching, but made no other move to get back up. Ochaco stared at the new guy with her jaw dropped.

"A-ah . . ." She swallowed as she took in his strange clothes and the amount of gear on him. "A-Are you a h-hero . . . ?"

He stared back. She couldn't tell what his expression was because of the mask, but she was utterly terrified by his glowing green eyes. He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He tilted his head a little and chuckled, a weird, warbling noise distorted by heavy robotics.

"Sort of," His voice rumbled. "Don't worry. I ain't here to hurt you. Are you injured anywhere?"

"O-oh! Uhm," She quickly took stock of her body, making sure she wasn't bleeding somewhere she hasn't noticed. "N-no, I'm alright."

He nodded. "Great. Can you call the cops?"

"Uh, r-right!" She whipped out her phone and swiftly dialed emergency services as the strange guy walked over to the robber.

"Hello, this is Mustufasu Police Department, please state your emergency."

"I, uh, uhm," Ochaco bit her lip and took a deep breath.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?"

She let it out in a shaky exhale. "Yes! Yes, I-I'm fine. There's been a robbery at JK Convenience store near Konbini Road. But, um, i-it's been resolved? Uh, there's a guy here that came and rescued me and knocked out the robber and is tying her up now. . ."

"Okay. A police cruiser is on the way. Can you describe the man who just came in?"

The guy turned his head. He put a finger to lips and her eyes widened.

"Excuse me, ma'am are you there?"

"R-right, I'm still here! S-sorry, I'm kinda in shock over w-what's happened! Uh, I'm sorry, I-I couldn't see the guy all that well. He left before I could take a good look . . ."

"It's alright. Sit tight, help will be there soon."

She covered the receiver of her phone as the strange guy stood up. "Thank you," She sincerely said. "But um, y-you might want to g-go now? The police are on their way."

He nodded. "Thanks. Stay safe."

He dashed out the back door and vanished.

The front door chimed and slid open again, Kazuho-san skipping in with her eyes closed and swinging a bag from her hand. "Ochaco-chan~! I'm back and my friend gave me - oh my Kami, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?!?!"

Kazuho-san's jaw dropped. She dropped her bag onto the floor and pudding cups spilled out onto the linoleum. Ochaco helplessly shrugged. "Um. . . There was an attempted robbery but it got stopped by his new guy?"

Her gaze turned to her. She slowly shook her head. "Oh Kami. We are so getting fired for this."

~*~

The Todoroki household was quiet for once. Endeavor would be out of town on sudden urgent business for the next few days, and Shouto would be enjoying the peace as much as he can. It was stifling indoors. He knew Fuyumi was trying her best to support him, but it would never be enough to get away from him. He spent his time outdoors as much as he could afford. When he closed his eyes and left the sounds of the night wash over him . . . He could almost imagine that he wasn't at this house. That Endeavor didn't exist, that mother didn't hate him, that Touya would be back and he could be with his siblings.

But when he opened his eyes, he would have to face reality. It was just him now. Fuyumi was too scared to stand up to Endeavor. Natsuo moved away for college. Mother and Touya were just. . . gone, and Endeavor was Endeavor.

He sighed and opened his eyes.

He started and flung a huge sheet of ice forward and scrambled back. The dark figure that was standing in front of him merely side-stepped the attack with grace. Shouto was ready to stomp on the ground and let loose another wave of ice when the stranger raised both of his hands up and said, "Touya. You know that name?"

He froze. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and he growled, "Where did you hear that?"

"Old rumors and files," The stranger answered. His voice sounded strange. It was garbled in a way Shouto couldn't explain, something . . . metallic? "Endeavor's covered up something big about his family that he doesn't want the public to find out."

He scowled even further. He could feel his cursed side threaten to flare up and pushed it down with his ice. "No one would believe you. There's nothing you can do."

The stranger tilted his head. It was silent for a moment.

"And if there was?" The stranger softly asked. "If I had a way to get your family away from Endeavor. . . would you take it?"

"I'm not going with a kidnapper to be used as ransom," He snapped.

The stranger scoffed. "Who said I was a villain? Ever heard of Viridian?"

He paused. Viridian. The name of a new vigilante that Endeavor has been raging about the past week. From dumping a sludge mixture of water and flour while he was out on patrol to spray painting his agency with ENDEAVORE in huge, blocky green letters. It was astounding, really. The media had no idea who was behind all the pranks, but Endeavor has been receiving cryptic messages on his office desk after each and every single attack. He's ranted and raved during training and over dinner about the latest bane in his existence. A vigilante that popped up out of nowhere a month ago and started taking down crime. Shouto's has only heard whispers of Viridian's exploits. Apparently there was one incident where the vigilante hacked Mustufasu's police precinct and upgraded their system.

No one knows what he's supposed to look like aside from the green color scheme. There was a video that circulated a while back of Viridian taking down a robber at a convenience store. It was recorded by one of the old security cameras which ended up grainy at best, but you could clearly see someone in a green hoodie wearing dark pants.

And here the living legend was not five feet away in his own backyard. Shouto blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't passed out on the floor of the training room and was dreaming. He struggled to find his voice in his dry mouth. When he finally found the words to speak, he quietly asked, "Why?"

Viridian shrugged. "I owe an old friend a favor. I promised. . . I promised I'd get you and your family away from that man. I won't lie. It'll take a while to get you out, but I just wanted to let you know that there's something to look forward to. I'm going to need you and your family's cooperation though."

"How?"

"Keep yourselves safe," He murmured. "Get out of the house as much as you can without risking Endeavor's wrath. Spend more time with your siblings. I'll drop by every once in a while to check up on you and make sure you're alright. I'll try my best to keep Endeavor away from you guys, but you'll need to rely on each other until I can get him behind bars for good."

". . . Can you really do it?" He looked imploringly into those glowing green lenses. ". . . Can you save us?"

Viridian nodded. "I wouldn't be much of a friend if I broke my promises, would I?"

~*~

???
heya, eraser! 
how are you this fine evening?

EraserCat
who is this

???
guess

EraserCat
hizashi, i swear to kami if this is another one of your pranks

???
whoa there, eraser!
this ain't your husband
it's me, you know
local favorite vigilante?

EraserCat
how did you get my number
and how do you know my husband's name
why can't i exit this chat or change my name

???
i hack
pretty sure my file says that somewhere

EraserCat
problem child

???
im not a kid tho????

EraserCat
problem
child
why are you contacting me?

???
right, sooooooo
how do you feel about endeavore?

EraserCat
why do i feel like you're the one behind all the pranks targeting him

???
bc i am :p
he's the worst hero i've ever met and an even worse father
you know he drove his wife to mental breakdown and permanently scar her youngest, force said youngest into hero training that's really just domestic abuse, and essentially sold his eldest son to the hero commission to be turned into a hero only for him to tragically die and have it written off as an accident when they knew full well that his quirk would burn his body inside out?

EraserCat
please tell me this is a joke

???
nope!!!
i'd love to get him behind bars now, but uh
destabilizing hero society and inciting mass panic and riots and all that
not fun
i'm almost done collecting all the evidence to get endeavore jailed
but i need you to get in touch with nezu and the police so we can prep the public without destroying society as we know it :D

EraserCat
i
ok
we'll talk about this more later
it's too early in the morning and I haven't had my coffee yet
is there ANYTHING else i need to know?

???
uhhh
how do you and your husband feel like adopting traumatized kids who are ostracized for their quirks and want to be heroes?

EraserCat
. . . who are you recommending

???
(sent HitoshiShinsouFosterSystemFile.pdf)
currently trying to find him
he's been missing since last night
he's a runner bc he's spent his entire life being abused for his quirk at school and home
so be patient with him
he also has insomnia
he's also an underground hero nerd
he also loves cats and would adore yours
he takes his coffee black with two spoonfuls of sugar
he also wanted to have an eraserhead scarf for his birthday but couldn't because you didn't sell merch so he settled on yellow swim goggles from the dollar store instead
and you shouldn't touch the back of his neck because some of his foster parents would muzzle him
hair is also off limits because he'd get yanked by it around a lot and would send him into a panic attack
if he has a nightmare rub his back in counterclockwise motions and give him a cat to cuddle with afterwards
or give him his father's watch and a photo of his parents to hold onto

EraserCat
viridian, do you know this kid?

viridian?
viridian, answer me

kid?

???
yeah

im here

he needs a good family to take him in

EraserCat
me and my husband will take care of him
are you okay?

viridian??

???
i'm going out on patrol
i'll send you any more evidence on endeavor when i can
cya eraser

EraserCat
wait
kid
KID

~*~

Izuku - no. . . Viridian threw his head back and took a deep breath of summer night air. The world hummed and buzzed with life underneath him. Evening shoppers, coworkers out for a drink, teens going to karaoke. . . It was peaceful. And busy. It was one of the more glitzy parts of Mustufasu where there was less crime running rampant. Normally he'd gun for the places forgotten by the world - the slums, subsidized housing, red light, the works. They're generally places Heroes steer away from. Whether due to lack of media attention for Daylight heroes, or a lack of backup for Underground ones. Viridian can patrol freely wherever because none of these guys have anything on a Nomu apocalypse and criminal mastermind. He's been to hell and survived it. Even has the trauma to prove it.

He groaned and fell back flat on the roof. Kami. What the hell is he even doing? He's been running around like a headless chicken this past month but he's barely made any headway. He can't find Toshi. He can't find Dabi or Toga either, and all three of them are pretty much homeless because Shinsou's been missing and no one has called it in yet. He can't start on Eri because he doesn't have the resources to put them away permanently away just yet. He can't sink his teeth into Endeavor until Nezu and the police set up barriers to prevent hero society from falling like it did last time, but it just might with the Hawks fiasco.

Again. Screw you Hero Commission. Let me rescue all of my friends without risking social collapse.

He slung an arm over his eyes. He missed them. He missed all of them. He has so many memories of all of them, but now? Now he's just a stranger to them, and it hurt. There's so many people he never was able to spend more time with but wanted to. Big Sis Magne. Mr. Compress. Spinner. Mustard. Twice. The others in the League can honestly go screw themselves because they're too far gone.

Wait, no. Kuogiri's chill. He was pretty much the dad of the entire group.

He huffed and sat back up. Dangit. Talking to Eraser about Shinsou opened up an entire box of feelings he was not equipped to deal with. If he's this much of a wreck right now, how bad will it be when he actually sees him again?

A soft, deep voice. A firm, broad frame. A dry smirk, eyes crinkling up at the edges.

"Keep up, Akatani."

He shoved that memory out of his mind and deep, deep, deep into his soul where it would never appear again.

At least until he sleeps and has a nightmare where he wakes up screaming and crying again. Kami, this was never going to get easier will it? For frick's sake, his therapist is gonna need a therapist when they're through with him!

A crackle in his ear.

"Greenie?" Mei's voice flowed out from the earpiece. "You're patrolling tonight? I thought it was your off day today."

"Couldn't sleep," He murmured, eyes still shut. "Too many memories. Too much to do. Might as well go patrolling."

"HAH! You'll make it up by taking tomorrow off, right? You know I'm legally obligated to tell your mom if you don't take a break!"

"Technically I'm taking a break," He murmured back. "I'm just hanging out on a rooftop lying down in one of the better districts."

"But I thought there's a lot of heroes in those areas."

"Yup."

"Isn't that a bad thing since you're a vigilante?"

He snorted. "I'd like to see them try and catch me. If I can outrun a horde of speed-based Nomu, then I can handle outwitting a few heroes."

"Ugh. I can't believe you had to deal with them. They sound like Frankenstein monsters or something!"

"You're not wrong. They're all dead and reanimated. Just with quirks."

"FRANKENSTEINS I TELL YOU!"

He chuckled. "Never change, Mei. Never change."

Chapter Text

Izuku swears it wasn't his fault. He didn't mean to bust a quirk trafficking ring and help torch an entire street in the process, but he did and everyone in Mustufasu and their grandmother was there to see it.

Let's backtrack a little to how this fiasco began.

"Viridian, this is Machina, you there?"

He tapped twice on the com and whispered. "Hearing you Machina. What's up?"

"Hold on, pulling up an image from city cams that was taken a few minutes ago on your visor."

The holographic display flashed once at the bottom left corner of the display in warning before enlarging the window on the screen. The green visor was an upgrade from the goggles he made long before. It had all of it's previous features, but now it had the added bonus of capturing shots and recordings of whatever is happening in his line of sight, as well as a rudimentary facial recognition system that Mei can help gather more information on back in her warehouse lab. Between him and Mei, they managed to update his gear and costume while adding a few more. . . surprises.

The display featured a short clip. It was a silent street near an intersection with a few stragglers and cars taking up most of the focus of the shot. At a glance, there doesn't seem to be anything that would stick out on a Tuesday night. Then a flash of blue. Viridian's eyes snagged on one of the alleyways. The angle of the camera allowed him to see deeper into the crevices between the buildings that largely went unnoticed by pedestrians. The camera froze and zoomed into the figure whose form was wreathed in a flicker of blue flames.

"This is him, right? Whatzizname, Daddy?"

Viridian nearly tripped as he wall-ran up the side of the building as his brain choked. "Oh my Kami, Machina, no. His name is Dabi. Please let me never hear you refer to him by that name ever again."

"Gotcha Greenie!" Her cheerful voice chirped in his ear.

He internally sighed as he leapt off another building and let his shock-absorbing boots take most of the impact before rolling forward with the rest of the momentum. He quickly consulted his mental map of the area and made a sharp turn. By his estimates, the guy Dabi is chasing should be right around. . . aha.

A tall, thin, scrappy guy burst into the alley. His expensive purple suit was singed and his once-perfectly coiffed dark locks were messy with sweat and soot. Dark smoke came off him in wisps as he scrambled away from his pursuer. He risked a look behind him. He stepped onto a old newspaper damp with the late afternoon rain and cried out as he tumbled painfully to the ground before skidding to a stop. He hastily clambered back up to his feet and got ready to run, but the little trip he did cost him the chance.

A dark figure zipped around the corner. He lunged and tackled the man, who let out a fearful shriek as he was abruptly manhandled. The dark figure grabbed the blubbering man by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. The singed man in the suit futilely struggled and raised his hand to do something (activating his quirk most likely), but the other was faster. His other hand lit up with painfully familiar blue flames and held it against his captive's face, who instantly stopped fighting and started whimpering instead.

"P-p-please, don't kill me!" He babbled, hands scrabbling at the wall behind him. "I-I'll d-do whatever you w-want, just spare me! Please!"

The other man growled and leaned closer, letting the flames lick against the side of his captive's face. The captive man screamed, but they were too far away from the main streets for anyone to hear it. "Talk," The flame-user growled. "Blondie with messy twin buns, sailor uniform, knives, and looks like she should be in a mental ward while going on and on about blood. Ring any bells?"

Viridian's stomach dropped. Shiz. Toga.

"Y-yes!" The man howled. The flame user brought his hand away but kept it close. "Sh-she was p-p-picked up t-two weeks ago!"

"Where is she?!"

The man yelped as the flames grew closer to his already charred face. "C-C-Club DeFacto! I-In the basement! Th-they're t-trying to sell quirks there!"

The flame-user scoffed. "Thanks."

* Fire erupted from the flame-user's hands and the man being pinned screamed as he was burnt alive. The dark figure let his body drop to the ground in a charred husk, the bright blue flames slowly petering out to leave a blackened corpse.*

Should Viridian be concerned that his old friend casually incinerated someone? Should he have tried to stop it?

Nah. He's seen worse during his ex-villain career. And honestly the dude deserves it if he really let a kid be sold off into quirk trafficking. Speaking of which -

Viridian dropped down silently to the alleyway. He perched on top of a pillar jutting out in Dabi's line of sight and casually greeted, "Yo, you're on the case too?"

Flames shot out of his hands and streaked towards him. He propelled himself off the ledge and landed on the ground, holding his hands up beside his head. "Hey, I come in peace."

Dabi scowled. He still had the skin grafts stapled to his skin under his eyes, jaw, and arms. With a pang, the vigilante realized they didn't have Eri yet to reverse the effects. He'd been proud of them. Said it made him look more dangerous to the heroes. But they didn't have time to care about villainous aesthetics when the Apocalypse hit and they needed to be at their full power.

"Who are you?" Dabi snapped.

Viridian steadied his voice, willing it not to tremble at the sight of his older brother figure. "Ever heard of Viridian?"

Something flashed in his expression before resetting. He looked more wary even though he tried to cover it up with a scowl. "The vigilante? What are you doing here?"

"Busting a quirk trafficking ring, apparently," He smoothly replied. "Wanna do it together?"

"I don't need your help," He instantaneously snapped.

"No, of course not," Viridian drawled, moving his head so that he could convey his eye roll from the rest of his body language alone. "It's easier to bust your friend out of their base of operations without the assistance of Japan's most notorious vigilante. By the suit and the loose lips, I'm guessing he's part of the Unagi Gang? Heard they got a fresh new batch of Trigger from the States. Think you can handle thirty or so gang members shooting up with it on your own?"

His scowl intensified. "And you would do a better job?"

"I don't."

Confusion flits across his face. Viridian smiled behind the mask. "Going against thirty Trigger-happy goons on their own turf by myself is a little above my pay grade. So is yours. But if we joined forces, then that's another story altogether. We both want to beat these guys up. We both want to free their captives. I don't see why we can't join forces."

Silence passed between them. Of course, that was a goddang lie. Thirty gangsters on Trigger has nothing on a squadron of Nomu crafted from Pro Hero bases. Give him half an hour and they'll be taken out. Two hours to investigate other possible branches before shutting down the trade ring completely. An extra ten minutes to obliterate the gang and make sure they never rise back up, even if the members decide to fold into other gangs.

But Dabi didn't have to know any of that. Viridian's ultimate mission is to protect his family, and that included his older brother figure. He wasn't going to pass up the chance to further establish a connection with him. And what better way than working together on a high-stakes operation like this?

The scarred man's scowl dropped into a disgruntled frown. "Fine. As long as they burn, I don't care how it happens. Don't come crying if you end up a pile of ashes."

The vigilante nodded. "Cool. You know parkour?"

Turns out that no, Dabi did not know how to do parkour (probably because his grafts would chafe, not that he'd ever admit a weakness to a stranger on the streets), so it took longer to reach the club in the red-light district of Mustufasu. Once they become friends again, Viridian resolved to sicc Eri on him before teaching him and Toga how to free run across roofs. It was painful to see him this slow and weak compared to the aged up version in his memories.

As it was, Dabi was doubled over panting by the time they reached their destination. Viridian dropped down into the alley beside him, enjoying the way his head snapped to the side. His lips quirked underneath the mask and he tilted his head. "You good?"

The scarred man sneered at him. He straightened back up and shoved his hands into his tattered cloak. "Never better," He drawled, trying to act nonchalant.

The vigilante inwardly huffed at his poor attempt to disguise his exhaustion. He could see pallor in the pale skin not replaced by grafts and the man's rattling breaths. Well, best to give the poor man a break then. He can't have his partner falter mid-battle because he wore him out on the way here now could he? Viridian turned his attention back to the club. "This it?"

It was a small, ritzy establishment that shone brightly under neon lights. Other buildings gleamed the same way at a distance - an oddly modest cafe, a billard's bar, and a cheap motel for anyone wanting to spend the night here with someone. A smattering of objectively pretty women and men in skimpy uniforms worked up and down the street approaching passerby with promises of a night of fun. A fancy neon sign about the size of the building itself burned Viridian's retinas with graceful English cursive and a stylized martini at the end. Club DeFacto.

Dabi snorted. "Seems like it."

"First time infiltrating a base?"

"No."

Viridian took note of how his jaw set. He opted not to call him out on his lie and nodded instead. "Cool. Would you be recognized if you went in?"

". . ." His silence told him everything. Viridian held in that sigh, not liking where this would lead. He reached into a pouch in his belt and pulled out a small device and held it out to Dabi. "Here. Put it on."

He frowned and took the device. He quickly inspected it, and then said, "What is this?"

"Communicator. I'll send a signal when I find the captives."

"Wait, hold on - "

Viridian stopped walked. He glanced over his shoulder to see Dabi stepping forward, palming the earpiece in his hand. A million emotions passed by his face as those bright blue orbs scanned his frame. His brows furrowed and his mouth set into a thin line. "You're a kid."

"Sure about that?" He cocked his head challengingly.

"You're like, what?" Dabi scowled. "Twelve? Ten?"

He snorted. "For all you know, I could be a thirty-year old man who just so happens to be short. Mutations exist."

"Then I can cross that off the list of what possible age group you belong to."

"Playing detective?" He lightly teased. "I appreciate the concern, but I wouldn't have lasted this long if I didn't know what I was doing. You'll get your friend back. I guarantee that."

"I'm not concerned," He retorted. "If you get caught, you'd jeopardize this entire operation."

"Good thing I won't get caught," He breezily replied as he strode off, knowing full well that Dabi couldn't follow unless if he wanted to get recognized. Viridian swiftly scaled up the side of the building with the assistance of his upgraded grappling hook, courtesy of Mei. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, completely unseen by the people below. He perched on the ledge of one of the buildings and scanned the crowd. He got a hit with a petite boy. He scanned his face and sent it over to Mei, who immediately ran through the programs he set up there for times like this.

He got a notification half a minute later. He quickly scanned the information and swiftly slotted the pieces as they came. He dismissed the information. He dropping down into an a shadowy alcove and let his figure be partially obscured by the darkness.

\\~*~//

Right on cue. One of the boys that worked at the club strutted up to him. He batted his eyes and swayed his hips, keeping his voice smooth and flirty. "Hey there handsome ~ . Looking for a good time?"

"Meh," He shrugs, pretending to inspect his nails in the dark. "Not as much as your sister will have when she finds out what Big Bro Akira has been doing in the night. Tell me, does she know where the money for her high school tuition comes from? Can't be easy working on your lonesome after your parents got involved in that villain attack last year. You could've graduated with flying colors from Musutafu High and started training to become an educator if that hadn't happened."

The boy froze. He was immediately on edge, all traces of him flirting gone, leaving him shifting anxiously in place. "H-how do you know that?"

"Relax, I'm not going to tell her what you've been up to," The boy stared at him wearily as Viridian paused. "Well. As long as you cooperate anyways."

"Sorry, but I don't work for free," He shakily flung back in response.

Viridian huffed in amusement. "Not my type. Follow me, and before you ask, no I'm not planning on murdering you in any way, but disobey and I will not hesitate to let it spill to your sister's school about your nightly activities."

He could feel the man tense as he led him away down a dark alley. The worker anxiously followed him as they went deeper and deeper into it.

"Wait."

The sudden change in tone had him pause. Since revealing the guy's background, there's been a noticeable tremor in his voice that belayed just how terrified this person was. But in that single word, all the fright had vanished. There was a surety to that tone. One that ruffled him slightly, but he was curious nevertheless what this kid had on him. 

He turned his head, tilting it back lazily. "What?"

Whatever the vigilante was expecting, it wasn't the amount of sheer awe the kid had on his face. Literal stars were in his eyes as he took in his gear. To say Viridian was confused would be the understatement of the goddang century.

The person he was threatening not two seconds ago gulped. "Th-the green color scheme. . . You're Viridian, aren't you?"

Something akin to annoyance bubbled up in him. This could get ugly if it gets out. The vigilante cocked his head nonchalantly instead, not willing to show that his opponent had the upper hand. "Then you know how swiftly I can take you out and destroy the lives of you and your sister."

"W-wait, I'm not threatening you! Honest!" The boy waved his hands rapidly. "I-it's just - I want to thank you. F-for saving me from a particularly rude customer on my way home last week. And my sister and her girlfriend too all that time ago," he huffed and shook his head. "Really speaking, turning you in is the least thing I would do. I'm guessing you're here because something shady is going on downstairs in the club?"

Well. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not after he got confirmation from Mei that yeah, he did actually save his sister that first night he saw Eraser again. Kami, did he nearly trip and flub up that encounter when he saw him again. 

He brought himself out of his thoughts. He crossed his arms and turned around. "What do you mean?"

The boy licked his lips. "I-I overheard the guys that run this place talking. Last week I saw them take a kid down to the back where workers like me aren't allowed. He looked barely older than my sister. I don't even want to think about what they could be doing to him. I wanted to go to the police, but if they found out what I've done here, I'd be jailed and my sister wouldn't-"

"That's enough." 

He abruptly shut up. It's not like Viridian was sympathetic to his plight in any way. He wasn't particularly furious either. It's just. . . life. Gotta do what you can to survive, not matter how dirty your hands become. 

"So then," The vigilante began. "Are you willing to cooperate with me?"

"Oh, hell yes," He immediately spat, straightening his spine, eyes burning with fury. "I can't fight, my quirk isn't good for that, but I can dress you as a worker and get you in. You're going to need to try and seduce one of the guys that works here - they're really not hard to miss - because they have the keys to the door in the back, and there's a really nasty piece of work that guards that door. They'll try to take you into one of the locker rooms after you get in. I'm guessing you know what to do from there?"

Viridian nodded. 

The boy clapped. "Okay, um, I-I'll be right back with a spare uniform. You look about my size so mine outta work. Uh, promise not to look. Secret identities, right? Yeah, alright, I'm just gonna . . ." 

He anxiously pointed to the side before skittering away. The vigilante didn't even need to wait a minute before he appeared in the alleyway again with a canvas tote on his shoulder and a small plastic tarp in his arms. 

"Here," he shoved the bag into his hands. "I'll leave so you can get changed. There's a wig and makeup in there too, plus a compact mirror. They suck, but uh, gotta work with what you can right? You can stash your vigilante stuff in that bag and wrap it up in the tarp to side somewhere around here without anything getting wet. And this is a pretty selfish request of mine - when you're done with this whole entire thing, would you mind giving back the stuff I gave? I mean, I highly doubt the club will still be open after you go through with it, but the bag has sentimental value and make up isn't easy to come by, and you know how strapped for cash me and my sis are right now -"

"It's fine," Viridian cut in, slightly exasperated from the ranting spiel. Now he understands how Katsuki felt those first fourteen years. "I'll get it back. One way or another."

The worker hesitantly nodded before giving him the tarp. He quickly strutted out of the alleyway but kept close to the entrance, probably playing look out in case anyone got too close. The action was appreciated, if not unwarranted since he could just knock the person out for a few hours even with his pants down around his ankles, but the worker didn't really need to know about that. Without a moment to waste, the vigilante swiftly undressed himself and changed into the club's work uniform. Which. . . Comprised of a skin-tight leotard of a sleeveless button-down and black corset ensemble, paired with thigh high fish net leggings and knee high leather boots with heels.

And bunny ears. Don't forget the bunny ears.

He took out the mirror and propped it up against the wall before crouching down and doing his makeup. Thank Kami for Toga and Magne. His "baby face" and healthy skin made for an excellent canvas. That said, it didn't take long for him to pop in lavender eye contacts, swipe concealer over his freckles, add a bit of color to his cheeks, eyelids, and lips, before finishing off with a perfect winged eyeliner. He cleaned up and swapped the items out for a blonde wig in the bag. He spent another moment to situate it over his green curls before styling it into delicate plaits. He stashed the tarp-wrapped bag with his gear behind a dumpster, making sure he still had a few knives  tucked away in his boots. He stood up, inspecting his outfit for anything amiss, before tapping on his com hidden by the pleats in his hair.

"How do I look?"

"Like you're dressed to kill!" A chipper voice responded back.

He adjusted the detached button down cuffs around his wrist and said, "Thanks. Haven't fought in spiked heels in a while."

"Is that a bad thing then?"

"It'll be bad." A wicked smirk crossed his face. "For them that is."

Viridian hummed to himself as he strutted out of the alleyway and onto the street. The worker dutifully looked the other way as he went past. He skirted around the other workers, not knowing if they'll be able to recognize him as an intruder even with one of them on his side. The bouncers didn't even give him a second glance as he slipped through the doors.

Inside the club was lively, classy. Bass-boosted EDM was playing from the dj manning the front. Poles were set up on stage with a catwalk, and there were workers there pole dancing. The other side of the room held an extensive bar made of dark chrome and mildly expensive booze. Private booths lined the walls, complete with curtains in case the clients wanted a little more privacy with the employees here.

Standard strip club. Now where would be a gang member he can talk up?

"Hey there baby ~," An older man, late twenties, sauntered up to him with a smarmy smile. He reeked heavily of booze as he stumbled forward and hiccupped. He pressed up against the boy, wrapping one arm disgustingly around his waist. "I haven't seen you around before. Did the boss hire you as extra entertainment for tonight?"

Viridian . . . Wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He couldn't believe his luck. For Kami's sake, the Unagi Gang seriously had a loose lip problem.

He didn't let any of that show on his face. He dragged his eyes up the other man's form and licked his lips, feigning interest. He leaned further into the man's embrace and slowly trailed his fingers up the guy's torso before twirling his hand around the drunk's stained tie and yanked him forward. The drunk stumbled, but the smaller boy easily caught him with his other hand. He hooded his eyes and flashed him a sultry little smile. "Sharp eyes, handsome. I do love my men with a bit of smarts on them."

He grinned again, barring his teeth. "You wanna head over to a booth and show me what you got, doll face?"

Viridian shoved down the shiver of disgust that threatened to break out. He wrapped his arm around the man's shoulder instead. "Mmm, I was hoping for somewhere a little more. . . private, if you catch my drift. I do my best work when there's no one peeking."

"There's a motel down the road."

Viridian sighed longingly, tilting his head so that he had full view of his long neck. "I'd love to, but I'm not allowed to leave the premises tonight. Boss will hang me if I do."

"I know a place we can go to that's private without leaving the club."

The young boy lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not cheap enough for a bathroom stall jaunt."

The other man threw his head back and laughed to cover up the fact that yes, he had been about to suggest that. "Naw, nah, baby. I didn't think you'd be so basic. I was talking about somewhere more . . . secretive than that. Someplace only I can grant you access to."

"Oh?"

"Mmmhm," His grip around his waist tightened. Viridian suppressed the urge to suplex the guy and just speed run this entire thing. "Follow me. I'll take real good care of you tonight, baby."

The disguised vigilante let himself be whisked away by the man. They walked down a quieter hallway with a door at the end, guarded by a gang member, just like the worker from earlier said. The drunken man flashed a smile at the unimpressed guard. "Yo, bro! I'm cashing in that favor I did for you last Tuesday. Mind turning the other way?"

The guard grunted. He looked away as they slipped by him and down a set of stairs into a into yet another hallway with a set of rooms. The man dragged him into one of them and shoved him against the wall, locking the door behind them. He dipped his head towards his neck.

\\~*~//

Yeah, no.

In one smooth motion, Viridian jabbed his knee into the guy's gut. He gasped and recoiled, but the vigilante showed no mercy. He grabbed his arm and flipped the guy over so he went down on his stomach and twisted his arm at an uncomfortable angle. He cried out and squirmed to relieve the pressure in his shoulder. He stopped when Viridian stomped on his back and dug his heel into the base of his spine.

He growled. "You little - !"

"Now, now," Viridian chided. "You can scream all you want, but that guard friend of yours will just think we're getting freaky. Or maybe you want your boss to find out what you're doing down here with a worker?"

He clammed up pretty quick. Viridian cooed. "Good boy. Now, I'll only say this once," He bent down to put his mouth beside the drunk's ear. He let out a strangled cry as Viridian's heel dug further into the man's spine. "Where are you keeping the people you kidnapped?"

"I-I swear, I don't know nothin' - !"

Viridian grinded his heel deeper. The drunk cried out even louder.

"Wrong answer," The vigilante snapped. "I don't like repeating myself. Next time I'm snapping your spine."

He laughed desperately. "Y-you wouldn't - ARGH!"

Viridian smirked wryly as he casually popped his shoulder out of his socket. The man sobbed, gasping. "O-okay! Okay! I get it! I-I-I understand now! Th-the merchandise is on the floor below, i-in the hallway to th-the right! There's a line of cells and you need a key to open them, but I swear I don't have one! Only the boss has it and I don't know where he is!"

Viridian inwardly shrugged. Eh, good enough. He grabbed the guy up by his hair and smashed the side of his head into the floor, knocking him out. Viridian swiftly frisked the man down and fished out a set of keys and a wallet with two grand of yen, an ID, and oddly enough, a picture of a rather cute puppy.

Oh. And he found a gun. Not as great as electrified escrima rods, but he'll take what he can get.

He rifled through the lockers in the room the man brought him into and picked up a change of clothes that would fit from multiple sources. He swiftly shed out of the leotard and the fishnet, but he couldn't get rid of the boots since there were no loafers his size. He made do with hiding them under his dark trousers.

Fully clothed and now ready to go, he shoved the knocked out gangster into the laundry bin underneath a pile of gross, old clothes. He straightened up and tapped twice on his coms. "Machina, over."

"Heya Greenie! How's the mission so far?"

He chuckled quietly before replying, "Good. Switch over the coms to Dabi and mute yourself. Don't forget to add the voice scrambler."

"Aye, aye, Greenie!"

There was a soft beep as the earpiece connected to another source. A gruff voice on the other end of the line grouched, "Are you dead yet?"

Viridian scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Nice to see you too. How are things on your end?"

There was a brief shuffle before his gravely voice spoke. "I'm with your stuff. Told that scrawny blonde you were eyeing I was with you and he believed me. I hope you fail, for what it's worth. These things can catch a pretty penny on the market if you catch my drift."

He hummed, blocking Machina from reconnecting to scream about her babies to Dabi. "Cool. I have a possible location on the captives. Be ready for a distraction."

"How big we talking?"

"How big can you make it without burning down the building?"

". . . Give me a signal. I'll be around."

"Alright. Cya later."

There was a click as Viridian cut off the connection. He reconnected with Machina and ignored her screeching. "Can you keep an eye on him for me? Get ready to call the cops on this location, Tsukuachi's number should be saved on your files somewhere."

"Oh, I'm gonna-!"

"Machina, focus," He snapped. "Once I have confirmed visual on the captives, tell Tsukuachi to haul himself over here. There's an unknown number of traumatized, kidnapped people here and a potential gun fight with a gang. I can take care of the captives, but tell him to watch his and his people's back."

"Ugh, fine. Stay safe or I'm calling your mother!"

He inwardly winced. "Right. I'm off."

Viridian disconnected from the call and took in a deep breath. He swiftly set off towards the lower levels, straightening up his spine and striding down the hallways with his head held up high. He stepped into an elevator and immediately locked onto the the scanner beside the buttons. He lifted a brow.

Five seconds later, he hotwired the elevator to take him to the basement. He watched as the numbers ticked down before a soft chime alerted that he arrived at his destination. The doors slid open and the two guards beyond it turned to him. They both jolted when they saw him (most likely because he looked younger than what they were used to) and one of them barked, "Stop! Who let this brat in - ?"

"This brat," He spat, heels clicking ominously as he strut past them, sending the two of them a venomous glare. They both stiffened and remained still at the intense bloodlust rolling off him in waves. Viridian sneered. "Was sent by your boss to check up on the merch. My buyer is interested in what you have to show, and I'm here to make sure his interest is worth it."

"O-oh! M-my apologies, sir," One of the guards hastily bowed. "W-we have o-one with a powerful illusion quirk - "

He rounded on the guard and snarled. "Did I ask for your suggestions?"

The guard jolted and hastily bowed again. "No! My sincerest apologies!"

Viridian scoffed and crossed his arms, dismissing him. "Open the doors, one by one. I need to see your entire lineup with my own two eyes."

"Y-yes, sir," The guard stammered. "I-I just need to call this in -"

"Was I unclear?!"

Viridian grabbed the guard down by his tie and he yelped. The older man's eyes snapped into the vigilante's amethyst ones that gleamed furiously in the harsh light. He trembled.

"You see, I've had a very bad day today," Viridian drawled, dangerous and sweet, tone as thick as honey but sharp as a wasp. "This is the third time you've crossed me, grunt. My patience, and the patience of my employer are wearing thin. I'm certain I don't need to tell you what would happen to the rest of the Unagi Gang if it snaps?"

The terror in the man's eyes cranked up to an eleven. He blanched and hastily nodded his head. "Y-yes! I understand! My g-greatest apologies on behalf of the Unagi Gang!"

Viridian tilted his head innocently and smiled like the Devil. He let go of the terrified guard and straightened his tie, patting his chest. "Good boy. Now, the merchandise?"

They were quick to obey after that. They unlocked the first door with a set of keys that Viridian took note of and swung the heavy metal door open. They flanked the sides of the doorway and stood sentinel. Viridian kept his gaze forward as he strutted inside a small room filled with a basic toilet, a sink, and a cot. The prisoner's wrists were cuffed together and chained to the wall. They were lying down in the cot when Viridian came in, and it was difficult to make out their face with the low lighting.

One of the guards came inside and grunted. He kicked the figure and the prisoner lurched.

"Oi, get up," The guard growled. "There's someone here to see you."

There was a pause and the prisoner made no move to sit up. The guard growled even more and snapped his fingers. The prisoner tensed and curled in (Pavlovian response to get them to obey), before they slowly clambered into a sitting position.

Izuku's heart lurched into his throat. Palid skin. Deep eyebags. Tired, angry violet eyes staring back at him. Wild purple hair stuck up in all directions, only to be interrupted by the straps of the muzzle that clenched his jaw shut.

"This one's parent's sold him," The guard explained, unaware of the growing tension. "He's got a powerful brainwashing quirk that allows him to take control over anyone that responds to his questions. Don't worry, he's an orphan. No one's gonna miss him."

Bile rose up in the back of Izuku's throat. He couldn't tell if he should laugh or cry or slaughter the men behind him, so he smiled instead to stave off the oncoming panic, because of freaking course this would be how they meet again.

Hitoshi Shinsou was glaring up at him.

As beautiful as the day he died.

Chapter Text

"Hey Akatani, you run along this route too?"

Large eyes flickered over, the green replaced by red long ago thanks to one of Sensei's quirks. Mikumo Akatani tentatively smiled. He slowed his pace to match Shinsou's, whose lips curled up at the edges as they jogged through the park trail together.

"Y-yeah," Mikumo murmured, channeling his shy persona to the forefront of his personality. "E-every morning. You?"

"Err, just found this place last week," Shinsou sheepishly grinned. "Now I come here in the morning when it's nice and cool."

Mikumo hummed, quickly noting his entire demeanor. "You seem pretty happy lately. What happened to the whole, 'I'm Hitoshi Shinsou, I like to brood so please don't talk to me'."

"About that, uh," He rubbed the back of his neck, still smiling. "Something good recently happened."

"Really? Did you find a girlfriend?"

He snorted. "No. I, uh. . . Changed guardianship recently. I think it'll be permanent this time."

Mikumo stopped jogging and his eyes lit up. He beamed. "That's amazing, Shinsou-kun! Who is it? When can I meet them?"

"Not now, I'm still. . . worried," Violet eyes flickered away, so hopeful, yet so full of doubt. "Maybe in a few months or something. We'll see."

Mikumo hastily nodded his head. They changed topics, talking about the upcoming Sports Festival and what kinds of events they would expect this year.

Of course, Shinsou was blissfully unaware that his previous foster parents went missing from jail the night before. He didn't know that they were currently tied up in the League's basement, passed out after being tortured. He didn't know that the reason for his abrupt adoption to Shouta Aizawa and Hizashi Yamada was because someone he recently befriended had pulled a few strings to make sure he was safe.

And Mikumo would be sure to keep it that way. Even if one day, they'd end up fighting on opposite sides of this war.

\\~*~//

Hitoshi was utterly screwed.

Seriously. What is up with the foster care system in Japan? He's read stories when he was small about how orphanages and group homes tend to neglect and harm their children, but he didn't want to believe anyone could be so cruel. Or that an entire system of people the government was supposed to protect could fail that badly.

Of course, that was when his parents were still alive and his quirk didn't come in. After that it was a different story altogether.

But none of them could have prepared him for the absolute clusterfudge that has been his life for the past month. First, the Yakubutsu's get arrested for having been involved with a drug smuggling ring that some new vigilante had a hand in busting. Next, he gets thrown over to the Shouka's with a brief prayer that they won't have a muzzle like the Yakubutsu's. Then, it turns out that they had sold him like a freaking cattle over to gang members so that they can sell him again to someone who can force him to use his quirk for villainy. The best part about this is his history of running away from abusive foster families has come back to bite him, because he guarantees that no one will be looking for an orphan with a villainous quirk who likely ran away from his new home.

Again. Just what is his luck.

And now there's some blonde kid who is just standing there in his cell with the two other idiot guards with the most frightening glare he's ever seen. He doesn't even look any older than Hitoshi! How the hell is he working for someone?! The moment they get this muzzle unbound and his chains undone, he was gonna - !

"Hmm, interesting," The blonde stranger murmured, violet eyes piercing into his very soul. He doubled down his glare but the stranger didn't even flinch. "He's gotta lot of fight left in him. How long did you say he's been here?"

"A week," One of the burly men answered.

The blonde stranger cocked his head, face still blank. "Must be pretty stubborn to have held out for this long."

"Don't worry, we're working on breaking it in."

Hitoshi tensed. There it was again. They were calling him an it. Like he's not even a person and just a tool in their eyes.

"I see," The blonde murmured. His fingers drummed along the side of his head. "So tell me, what is your process on - ?"

An explosion sounded off in the distance that rattled the building. The guards lurched forward, one of them yelling, "What the hell was that - ?"

What happened next was a blur for Hitoshi. The guard was abruptly cut off and fell to the ground, and in the next second the other guard joined him too. The blonde huffed and scowled at the two of them, muttering something under his breath, before swiftly fiddling with their bodies. He took out a pair of keys and rushed over to the cuffs on Hitoshi's wrists. He held them out and the stranger quickly got to work, the heavy iron shackles falling onto the concrete floor with a resounding thunk. Another explosion rocked the compound. The blonde swore, muttering something about, 'stupid, scar-faced lunatic, I told you not to blow up the building' before swearing again when he inspected the muzzle.

"Well shiz," He growled. "Hold still, I'm gonna use a knife to cut you out."

Hitoshi's heart skipped beats. Before he could back away or some other form of protest, the stranger whipped a knife from somewhere around his leg and deftly slid it in between the strap and his head.

Snap.

The muzzle fell with a clatter to the floor. Hitoshi coughed and his hands scrabbled to his mouth, wincing as he felt the abrasions along his nose and jaw.

Tapping on his shoulder. He looked up and the stranger raised his hands.

'Can you stand?'

Hitoshi's eyes widened. This person. . . This person knew JSL?

'Yes, I do.'

Hitoshi internally jolted in shock. The stranger dangled a pair of keys in front of him. 'If you can stand, then get up. We need to help the others.'

Thankfully enough, Hitoshi was able to stand. He spent the past week (oh my Kami, he's been kidnapped for a week now) jumping between conserving his energy, watching the guards change shifts, and occasionally moving around to make sure his muscles didn't lock up for when he could run. The benefits of previous fosters locking him up in rooms for days at a time with little food and water to go off of.

They quickly managed to free everyone there - there were five others and most of them were just kids - before the other end of the hall flooded with guards flying in. They swarmed the exit, and the other end of the hall was a dead end.

Ah shiz.

One of the captives he was with - long orange hair, male, scrawny and skinny and looked like he should be in elementary school - flinched and wailed. "P-Please, no!"

The blonde stranger stepped forward from the group and widened his stance in a protective measure. He turned his head slightly towards them and murmured something low, "I'll create an opening and I need you all to run."

"And you?" A pink-haired woman nervously asked.

"Will there be blood?!" A blonde girl shrieked, sounding way too happy at the prospect of bloodshed.

To the guy's credit, he didn't even react to that strange comment. "I'll be right behind you," The stranger steadily answered. Hitoshi did a mental headcount of how many guards were stationed on the other side. Yeah, no. He's not taking his chances.

He licked his lips and swallowed his spit to try and get rid of the dryness in his mouth. He opened his mouth and pitched his voice high to be unrecognizable and projected it as far as he could, "W-why are you doing this to us?!"

Shouts and sneers and all sorts of responses went up until one of them snapped, "Oi, are you all freaking crazy!? One of them has a - !"

Hitoshi felt the threads and quickly yanked on them. Before any of their comrades could knock them out of it, he opened his mouth and yelled, "SLEEP!"

Numerous thumps were heard as the bodies hit the floor. The others that weren't caught by Hitoshi's quirk screamed in outrage and advanced. Some of them were drawing guns and a couple had taken out syringes of some drug that Hitoshi really did not want to know the effects of. The blonde protector swiftly dashed forward and - ummmmmmmmmm

He blinked. To say that it was a fight was an overstatement. This was just a straight up massacre. The guy had nothing but a suit and heels and he was somehow kicking the butts of at least two dozen men with brutal ease. He glanced back at the others' stunned faces and then back to the brawl, only to notice that the last person standing had just fallen. He gaped. Blondie huffed stood in the midst of the pile and inspected the carnage with barely mild interest before turning back to Hitoshi. He nodded and simply said, "Thanks. Just don't wreck your voice next time."

Hitoshi numbly nodded, not trusting himself to say anything, but also because he couldn't say anything because his throat was burning with misuse.

The stranger jerked his head and said, "Come on, let's get you out of here."

No need to tell anyone twice. They all quickly but hesitantly scampered after the blonde as he led them up the set of stairs the gangsters had came down from. They encountered more as they went up, but they were swiftly dispatched by the blonde before most of them even realized they were there. Seriously. Just who is this guy? Why hasn't Hitoshi heard of him before in the Underground Hero forums? He has to be one, no other kind of hero would fight the way he was doing or use infiltration tactics. Is he new then? What's his name?!

The blonde rammed into a door at the end of the hallway to reveal yet another hallway, except it was darker and moodier this time. There were screams coming from far away. Blaring police sirens coming from somewhere outside. Something crackled and smelled faintly of burning plastic. They spilled out into an open space (was this a club? Wait, there are poles on that stage - were they in a strip club?!!?) only to - ah, shiz.

Fire erupted in the space all around them. It blanketed the entrance and was swiftly spreading across the painted walls. Blondie swore as the heat smacked into them, smoke billowing up and slowly making its way to the floor. He whipped around, pointing somewhere off to their side and yelling, "This way! Go, go, go!"

They all darted off in the direction he pointed in. They reached a door and the blonde body-slammed into it with all his might. It didn't budge. The blonde stepped back and raised his leg to deliver a powerful stomp to the door, but it only rattled and held firm.

Hitoshi's heart dropped. No, no, no, no, no, no. He and the others couldn't have been saved only to die! They were too close to stop now!

"Machina!" The blonde barked. He wasn't looking at any of them. Hell, it doesn't look like he was addressing any of them. "Direct Dabi to my exact location. There's a door jammed that he can melt with quirk. Tell him to hurry up!"

He stepped back, grouping the others to the side. Glass shattered nearby and someone screamed. The fire was spreading to the bar. Blonde turned back to them and shouted in alarm. "Duck!"

He raised his hand above his head and loud bangs went off in quick succession. A dark mass fell from the ceiling with the blonde standing on the other side. The last thing Hitoshi was able to see past the heat and the fire was the bar exploding outwards, glass shattering everywhere.

And the Hero was no where in sight.

\\~*~//

". . . GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING, LISTENERS! Welcome back to another segment of Put Your Hands Up with your fabulous host for tonight, Present Mic!"

(Cheers and applause go up in the background in time with a jaunty jingle)

"Hold on to the edge of your seats, folks! Because tonight, we'll be talking about the fire villain that went rampaging in downtown Musutafu earlier this evening!"

(A pre-recorded crowd 'ooohs' at the line)

"I know, right?! Most of you have probably heard about it by now. Word travels fast on social media these days!"

(Laughter in the background)

"Well, I'm here to give you an update on the situation! So far, we've got ourselves a real kicker of a villain. Reports say he's got a lot of scars on his face and body, and he's got a pretty flashy fire quirk that lets him use blue flames! That's gotta be hot! He started off by blowing up a generator before lighting up the street. But fret not, dear listeners! There were plenty of Heroes nearby when it happened, so they were able to swoop in before any casualties could be made.

"Unfortunately, it seems Burns McGee gave our Heroes and fellow boys in blue the ol' slip. So if you're out and about right now, I'd say get on the phone with someone at home - your mom, your dad, your boyfriend, your cat! - and keep them on until you get back and are snug as a bug under the sheets. The trains are still running at this time, and so are the cabs if they're too far to walk without getting yourself a blister! And don't forget. It's always better to go with a buddy than to be a lone wolf. AWOOOOOOOO!

"Now, because it's such a special night tonight, we are opening our call centers for anyone who can't get in touch with anyone else but their cat right now. Remember! The number is 'SHOUT IT'! That's 746-8848! And if you're lucky, then your call might even be directly connected to me! Our call centers our online starting . . . now! And in the meantime, while we wait for our first call, I'll be putting some soothing jams for your end of the day jitters."

(Slow jazz plays over the speakers. Someone turns off the microphone and sighs, pulling down their headphones)

"How was it, Techou? Think it was good enough?"

"We're receiving reports from the call center now. The callers are a bit anxious, but calm for the most part. You did good informing the public of a dangerous criminal on the loose while keeping them calm. Be proud of yourself, Mic!"

"Thanks, Techou. It's - Kami, what the hell? A flashy villain appears out of nowhere, starts a big enough scene that people from the other side of Musutafu can see it, and then just. . . disappears. Like, I don't understand. What was their reason? What was their motive? What did they achieve other than mass panic?"

"Oh, wow, Mic. Don't tell me you're quitting Radio Show hosting to be a detective now!"

"Haha, nah. . . It's just something I picked up from my . . . you know. He grouches about doing the investigative stuff, but when it comes down to it, that's exactly what he ends up doing most of the time. It's been that way for a long time now." 

"I think it's sweet that you're both still going steady after all these years. I wish I could find a partner like that."

"Aww, Techouuuuuuuuuuuu! You'll find yourself a good guy or gal or enby pal. If not, call Uncle Mic up and I'll come raring for a beatdown!"

"Haha. Thanks Mic. You're like, the unofficial official cool uncle slash dad of the team. All the interns and sidekicks look up to you, you know? It's not just the way you use your quirk or your popularity in the rankings. Most of them say the coolest part about you is your way with words. You can calm a crowd within seconds of speaking. You can encode information for Underground Heroes in public broadcasts without any villains knowing about it. Or you do stuff like this - directing the public to safety, while informing them of what's going on without inciting mass panic. It's amazing to see it in person."

"Oh, c-come on, Techou! I-I gotta b-be on the a-air in a b-bit and you're m-making me tear up!"

"I'm just telling you how it is. You're about to go live soon though. Do you need a minute more?"

"Nope. Just -" violently blows nose into handkerchief - "ahhh. Much better. I'm a-okay and ready to go!"

"You're going live in three. . . two . . . one . . . !"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, we're back, listeners! We've got a caller on the line here, and you're about to be patched in! Ready?"

Click.

"Heyo, this is Present Mic from 'Put Your Hands Up' Radio! You're live on the air right now, so why don't you introduce yourselves to the folks back home, ya dig?"

". . . Hello?"

"Hello to you too, Listener! We're hearing you loud and clear from our end!"

"O-oh! Thank Kami, I didn't know who else to go to and the police weren't picking up!"

"That's alright, Listener, it's what we're - !"

"Hold on, this is serious! Back at the club that got blown up tonight by the fire villain, Club DeFacto? He's not a villain! He was a distraction because the club was a cover up for a trafficking ring happening in the basement!"

"W-wait, hold on just a sec - !"

"I-I saw the kids coming out of the club, but there was a seventh person that I didn't see at the EMTs. I-I-I think it was the vigilante, Viridian? He was wearing a disguise, but I know for sure it was him because I saw him go in there personally and - !"

"Hey, Listener, why don't I connect your call over to one of the agents at the call center? They can handle what you've got to put out better than I can on the air."

"O-okay, I. . . Sorry, it's just - Kami. Viridian saved those kids but that explosion was so huge and. . ."

"Hey, don't worry your head over it, Listener. We'll get there in time. Help is on the way. Chin up, he'll want to thank the person who called him in and got a proper headcount of the people in the building."

"Thank you . . . ! Thank you so much . . . !"

Chapter Text

" crrk - crrrrrrkz. . .  eenie?! Greenie?! Come in . . .  shhhrrrrrhhhh . . .  Viridian! Are you there?! Answer me!"

Click.

". . . Hey, I, uh. . . I think I found your guy. Green hair?  On the young-looking side?"

"Who is this?! I have multiple ways to track you down and disembowel you!"

"The guy who was helping out Viridian earlier. You directed me here. Flame guy?"

"Oh my Kami, thank Kami, what would I do without you Kami! How's Viridian's status?!"

"Not good. Knocked out, covered in extensive burn marks and shards of glass in his back. Think there's some broken bones too."

"Ah, shiz. Hey, where do you live?"

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because he went charging into enemy territory to rescue your friend without any gear like the selfless motherfudging idiot he is and got a building collapsed on him for it!  My friend is broken and bleeding and needs help. STAT! I trust him, and he trusts you, BUT IF HE DIES I'M COMING AFTER YOUR HEAD!!!!!"

". . . Fair enough. I'll see you there."

~*~

Izuku came to with a migraine the size of Mount Fuji. His face was smashed into a couch that smelled like soot. His entire body ached and he groaned, burying his face deeper into the cushions.

A pitter patter of steps approached him. A familiar voice anxiously asked, "Izuku? Baby? How are you feeling right now?"

His response was a jumbled, garbled mess of unintelligible noise. His mother hummed as if it made any sense to her, which probably did considering that she's . . . well, Mom. "I see. I have pain killers here, but you'll need to sit up for them. Don't worry, momma will help you out."

Another groan as his mother gently but carefully took his arms in a firm hold. "Ready?"

No, no, he's not. His back was blazing with pain. The skin there felt raw and exposed, as did the back of his arms, his legs, his side. . . and everything else in his body. Ow. He did managed to get up with a lot of hissing on his part. He sat up blearily, swaying from side to side. His mother held him in place as she popped a pill in his mouth and forced him to dark a drink of cool, refreshing water. She let him lie down back on the couch as they waited for the medicine to kick in, because Kami. He's never felt this bad before. Did he get an entire building dropped on him or something?

"Yes," Another voice seethed. Female, and just as equally terrifying as his mother. "Yes, you did, Greenie. It also exploded and you were not even fifteen feet away from the blast radius. If Dabi didn't come find you when he did, and if your mother wasn't already rushing to the scene because she knows you, then we wouldn't even be having this conversation because you would have been dead! Do you understand just how freaked out I was when you weren't responding?! I legitimately thought we'd lost you back there! What were you thinking rushing in alone like that?!?!"

"Mmm . . . Da'i wuzz dehr. . ."

"I meant with you when you went in!"

He hissed at the loud volume. His mother murmured something away from him, and he could hear Meimei's disgruntled huff. She sighed.

"Did you even have a plan, Greenie?" Mei slowly asked. "You ended up with multiple broken bones, your entire back burnt, and - you know what, I think you can feel just how pain your body is in right now. As cruel as this sounds, it probably would have been best if you waited a little while longer to regroup and find more back up. You'll have to go off the streets for how long, Mrs. Midoriya?"

"A few months at least," She sighed. "Remember our promise Izuku? You can't be reckless like this."

". . . Toshi wazz dehr. . ."

"Toshi?" Meimei muttered. "Who's that?"

"Oh, honey," A presence knelt beside him and soothingly ran a hand through his hair. He leaned into the cool touch and sighed, the old pain rising back up again now that the adrenaline wore off.

"Is Toshi your ex or something?"

Izuku groaned. He blearily lifted his head, ignoring the way his body screamed in protest against the movement, and looked. A scared face was leaning over the back. Icy blue eyes stared back down to him. Izuku's lizard brain decided that was the best time to short circuit and he coherently blurted out, "Between Fuyumi and Natsuo, who has the best chance of hiding Shouto from Endeavore?"

He stiffened. Izuku can read the panic in his eyes as clear as day. But just as quickly as it showed, his expression quickly schooled it back into his usual infallible sneer. "Endeavor? That prick? I don't know who all those other people are and I don't care."

Izuku blinked slowly. He narrowed his eyes at the man who stared back at him unflinchingly. His head dropped back onto the couch and muttered, "Mmmm, right. Need to get Shouto away from the flaming trash heap. Wanna help me commit arson on his house so that Shouto can be with Fuyumi?"

". . . Eh, I got nothing better to do. Can you even do it?"

"Been waiting to find you to pull it off," he murmured. "Knew you'd never let me live it down if I didn't."

"What?" He snarled. "I don't remember meeting any crazy green vigilantes in my life."

Izuku chuckled humorlessly. "Not in this life."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, that's enough interrogating him," His mother swiftly stepped in, waving Dabi away. "Now shoo! You go out and do whatever it is teenagers living in slums do while I make lunch for all of us. And no, I'm doing this out of my own budget. Don't think you and Toga can get away from me. I've seen how skinny you both are underneath those baggy clothes and scars!"

"Uh . . ."

Izuku huffed amusedly. "Let her mother you. You became a Midoriya the moment mom laid eyes on you, and that means you can't refuse her care no matter what you do unless if you want to feel the soul-crushing guilt of a spurned mother. If not for you, do it for Toga. I'm guessing she's not the type to eat with someone she doesn't know unless if you're eating with her. Mom's got blood bags. No worries about bloodlust acting up."

". . . How do you know so much about us? I literally just met you last night."

". . . You want the crazy one or the believable one?"

"Crazy," He sneered.

Izuku dryly smirked. Challenge accepted. "I'm from a future where the world gets taken over by a psycho's failed experiments that have the physical prowess on par with All Might, and that's without factoring for their quirks. You, me, Toga, Mei, and a few others were the last survivors in Japan before we found a half-finished time machine, finished it, and then used it to send me back here."

Dabi frowned, obviously in disbelief and said, "Okay. . . What's the believable one then?"

"I want to screw over the Hero Commission and this Quirkist society, because Quirkless people like me don't have any rights or future prospects," He easily lied. Well, sort of lie. This was pretty much the main reason he ended up becoming a villain in the first time line. "They turn a blind eye to the Number Two Hero abusing his family. He drove his wife mad and sent his eldest son to death after he gave him to the Hero Commission for hero training. Everyone else in the program either died, was discarded, or became a puppet. To date, only the Number Ten Hero Hawks, real name Keigo Takami, has survived but is under the Commission's strict control. In order to take down the Commission, I need to target the Heroes they have the most sway with. And what better Hero to strike than the Number 2 domestic abuser in all of Japan?"

A pin dropping could be heard in the silence that followed. A quiet chuckle. Then full-blown, hysterical laughter as Dabi reeled over the couch, gasping and wheezing. "Are you serious?! You, a kid who is barely out of diapers, wants to tangle with the most powerful organization of all time by hitting the Heroes in seats Two and Ten?! How is this any less crazy than the one you said before?!"

"'Cuz I've done it," Izuku wearily explained. "Except it backfired and led to the collapse of Japanese society, so now I'm hopefully working with Nezu and the police to prevent that."

Dabi scoffed harshly. "I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if society ended up falling."

"Happened in the previous timeline over the next three years. Won't happen if I can help it."

"Now you're just delusional."

Izuku sighed. They were going no where with this. Time to switch topics. "How's Toga?"

"None of your business," He snarked.

"My blood in those blood bags says otherwise. Normally she'd be jumping around right now trying to stab me and talking about how pretty blood would look on my face. The fact that she isn't implies she's either out or bedridden, but it's most likely the latter than the former considering that it's only been a day since she's been freed. 'Cept being bedridden could mean anywhere between simple exhaustion after being kidnapped and held prisoner, or in critical condition."

He huffed. "Fine, braniac. She's sleeping."

"Estimated recovery time?"

"Not telling."

"Will she back within a month?"

"Again, none of your business brat."

"I think I deserve my questions answered considering you set fire to the club and landed me in this state even though I specifically told you to avoid it."

He snarled. "I was halfway down the street when I saw the fire breaking out. I don't know what caused it, but it sure as hell wasn't me because I wasn't even near the place when it happened. I'm not the only one around these parts with a fire quirk. For all you know a patron could've done it, so quit throwing the blame on me."

"Alright, that's enough you two," His mother gently chided as she popped back in the room. The scent of warm soup reached his nose and Izuku's stomach began to grumble. His mother chuckled as she set a pot down on the ratty table propped up with old magazines and newspapers.

He could feel Dabi's face scrutinize the scene more than see it. "You know that your son is a vigilante."

"Mmhm," She replied, not taking her eyes off ladling some soup into the bowls she brought from home.

". . . And you're not stopping him."

A hand cards through his hair and Izuku hums. "No, I'm not," She airily began. "The situation is a little more complicated than you would expect, and none of us really have a choice in the matter. The least I can do as his mother is support him and ensure that he doesn't get injure himself too badly trying to stop the apocalypse."

"You all are really sold on the idea that the world is gonna end, huh?"

"It will," Izuku grumbled.

Dabi sighed and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, 'too old for this shiz,' before leaving the room. Probably to go check on Toga.

"Hey, Greenie?"

His mother helped him sit back up and he raised his head slowly to stare at Mei. "Mmph?"

She held up his phone with a weird look on her face that could have been trepidation. She leaned away from his phone and grimaced at something on the screen. "You have a lot of texts from someone named EraserCat. Oh, wait. Is that the Hero who's assigned on your case that you needed to adopt Purple Hair?"

Izuku groaned and tried to flop back down but his mother stopped him. He pouted, but she gave him the look and he relented begrudgingly. "Give it here, Meimei."

"Aren't you, like, in serious pain or something?"

"Nah," He grinned, but it probably looked more like a grimace. "Pain pills are kicking in. Besides. This has nothing on the time my leg got ripped off by a Nomu."

"Ugh, that's gross!" She shivered, but eventually handed the phone off to him.

Izuku looked down at the screen as it blew up with at least fifty different messages and thirty attempts to call him. His mom spoon-fed him another portion of soup (he's long since gave up trying to stop her) as he popped open the chat and braced himself for the oncoming onslaught.

That One Dumb Reckless Green Vigilante

Eraserhead has added Naomasa Tsukuachi to the chat

Naomasa Tsukuachi
Is this what I think it is?
Eraser, how did you manage to get Viridian's phone number?

Eraserhead
he got mine
more importantly
kid
answer me
what the hell was that on mic's show about you being trapped in a falling and burning building at the fire villain rampage last night?
where are you
are you being treated
there's a city-wide alert out for you
problem child respond
i will drag you to the hospital myself if i have to
or bring recovery girl take your pick
if you don't answer i'll assume you're dead in an alleyway somewhere and i don't want to be the one to explain to your parents what the hell their kid is up to at night

The Idiot Vigilante
o geez
calm down eraserDAD
i'm fine
i'm with a friend right now being treated

Eraserhead
problem child what the hell were you thinking
you didn't think to call someone for backup????

The Idiot Vigilante
i called you and i had a friend on scene to help out

Naomasa Tsukuachi
Are you referring to the person with the fire quirk who committed arson to half the buildings on that block last night?

The Idiot Vigilante
oh
human lie detector guy
yeah, the fire guy is my friend
i asked him to create a distraction to lure out the unagi gang from club defacto so that i can bust the captives they had in the basement out
are they ok?
there were five of them

Naomasa Tsukuachi
Yes, they're all recovering in the hospital at the moment while we contact their families about their disappearances
They reported that there was a sixth person with them that was missing when they woke up.
They have blonde hair and a penchant for talking about blood?
Are they with you right now?

The Idiot Vigilante
she's good
also getting treated with me
so you don't need to worry about her
what about the purple haired one? Hitoshi Shinsou?
i swear to kami if you send him back to whatever foster home he's in right now

Naomasa Tsukuachi
I apologize, but that is confidential information.

The Idiot Vigilante
like how you're apparently the police liaison for all might? 

your silence for the past minute is telling, detective

Eraserhead
tsukuachi, it's fine
give him the details of the case
i'll take the fall for whatever happens
in exchange, i hope you'll be telling us your version of the events, viridian

The Idiot Vigilante
good doing business with you eraser

Naomasa Tsukuachi
Alright.
But I hope you realize that I don't condone this, Eraser.

Eraserhead
acknowledged

Naomasa Tsukuachi
Hitoshi Shinsou will also be making a full recovery.
He's not going to be sent back to his foster family.
In fact, he's going to be taken in by a trusted associate of mine.

The Idiot Vigilante
it better have been you and the blonde cockatoo eraser
i know you both have emergency foster licenses

Eraserhea d
it is kid
i told you before, we'd take good care of him
if you want, we can arrange a time for you two to meet so you can make sure of it yourself

The Idiot Vigilante
why would i do that?
i can just hop over to your home and peek through the windows

Private DMs

Detective Tsukuachi
Aizawa, what the hell is this kid?
How does he know so much about you?
How does he know you're married to Mic?
Does he actually know where you live or is he bluffing?
And why are you giving out so much information about this Shinsou kid?
Does Viridian know them somehow????

Shouta Aizawa
it's nothing he hasn't found out before
and yes, it's likely these two know each other but the circumstances of their relationship is unknown
let me lead tsukuachi, stay on standby for backup

That One Dumb Reckless Green Vigilante

The Idiot Vigilante has changed their name to GreenGremlin

GreenGremlin has changed Naomasa Tsukuachi's name to StickInTheMud

GreenGremlin has changed Eraserhead's name to EraserDAD

GreenGremlin
alrighty, so while you two freak out over how much info i know about eraser, let me get down my account for you detective
so there i was, gallivanting in the night like my usual vigilante self
when i came across my fire-wielding friend and i happen to overhear him talking about a quirk trafficking ring over at club defacto that was being run by the unagi gang
so we both agreed to work together and hauled ourselves over to the club, but he couldn't get in without alerting everyone in the area what we're doing
so i had him on standby for a distraction while i infiltrated the club using a disguise from one of the entertainment workers, worked up one of the gang members running the club, and got him to lead me to captives before knocking him out and disguising myself as one of the members
then i moseyed on down to the elevator, hacked past the security on it to get to the basement where they were kept, terrified a couple of guards, confirmed they were all there, and then signaled my friend to start blowing up the street and called Eraser in while i got all the captives outta there
except, ya know
someone - NOT my friend but a rando- decided it was a good idea to set fire to the club
plus all the exits were blocked, and the fire was about to hit the bar, so I had to do the next best thing
i shot some huge piece of decoration that looked like a billboard to cover the captives and then the bar blew up and i got knocked out
but don't worry! like i said, i'm getting treated now so i'm a-okay!

EraserDAD
i'm assuming we won't be seeing you anytime soon while you recover

GreenGremlin
oh eraser
as if you can get rid of me THAT easily!!!
:D

EraserDAD
problem child you better not be going out before you're healed

GreenGremlin
okay, i get that i have the self-preservation instincts of a lemming
but i swear i'm not that stupid

EraserDAD
debatable

GreenGremlin
i'll pretend that you did not just type and sen d   that  to the chat
you two conveniently forget that i'm a hacker on top of being a fighter, so i'll just be feeding you both info to take down criminals :)
speaking of which, how do you two feel about raiding a yakuza base to rescue a five-year-old girl who the Shie Hassaikai - namely the boss Kai Chisaki - is dissembling and reassembling to use her blood and flesh to make Trigger components and a quirk-erasing drug?

StickInTheMud
He's doing WHAT NOW?!

EraserDAD
problem child, how the hell do you find yourself in these messes?

GreenGremlin
they just find me ~
but seriously are you on board?
bc i need to do a headcount before i figure out which plan i should go with
and also plan around getting shouto todoroki out of endeavore's estate and into the custody of his older siblings
can't commit domestic violence if the kid is never at your house ~
:D

StickInTheMud
Endeavor is doing WHAT to his kid?!

GreenGremlin
*kids
don't forget about the oldest touya 
but i guess the flashing trashcan would be an accessory to the crime?
cause he shoved the kid over to the hero commission for their "hero training program," but then he died and they just covered it up
like they did with all the other kids that didn't make it!

StickInTheMud
I
The Hero Public Safety Commission

GreenGremlin
yup
hawks was the only one to make it out, but he's still under their control and would very much like an exit pass after some coaxing
i've got a loooooooooong list of things i need to get done
so are you done having your existential crisis detective or am i just gonna do all this solo

StickInTheMud
No, I'm
I' ll be asking for your cooperation on this matter.
But only to bring these people to justice for their crimes .
After that I'm turning you in for vigilantism, Viridian .

GreenGremlin
can't do that when I haven't used a quirk ~

StickInTheMud
I can still arrest you for excessive violence, trespassing, illegal hacking, and abetting in the destruction of property and public disturbance

GreenGremlin

you know what, that's a fair point
or it would be if i wasn't technically immune to the law :D

EraserDAD
problem child, no one is immune to the law

GreenGremlin
B E T

StickInTheMud
How would one even be immune to the law?????

GreenGremlin
ten thousand yen says you wouldn't be able to figure it out even if you got your best investigators in all of japan together even WITH a hint
oop, gtg
my friend is back and we need to plot against the flaming trash pile!
cya :D

StickInTheMud
Wait, what are you scheming?
Viridian?
VIRIDIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Izuku switched his phone off even as it was blowing up with messages from the stick in the mud detective. He turned to Dabi and smiled.

He looked at him with all the reproach of a cockroach.

"So," Izuku fiddled with his phone between his two fingers and ran down a mental list of what he had to do, including digging up more information about this timeline's Tsukuachi. "How do you feel like about messing with a certain flaming pile of trash that happens to be the Number Two Hero?"

He lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "And how do you propose to do that?"

The green-haired vigilante's smile transformed into something feral. He told him, and the grin the scarred man gave back was absolutely manic. "Huh. You were actually serious earlier. Alright, I'm in."

Chapter Text

I edited Katsuki's confrontation with Izuku in Chapter 3 to be better, so now their entire relationship takes a whole new dimension. I strongly recommend everyone to go back and reread it, otherwise events in the future chapters won't make any sense. This only applies to anyone who read that scene before March. Thanks to Amevinil239 for pointing that out!!!

~*~

Remember how Hitoshi was lamenting over the clusterfudge of his life for the past month? Yeah. It's still a clusterfudge, but at least it's a good clusterfudge now. 

He watched as Eraserhead (the Eraserhead, his childhood idol!!!) stumble into the apartment carrying a mostly empty duffle full of Hitoshi's essentials. A chorus of meowing and scampering little footsteps made him look down as not one, not two, but three cats came running over to Eraserhead. They ran around his ankles and meowed adorably up at the tired man, who just looked down at them and sighed. He nudged them away with his socked foot, already taking off his shoes beforehand, and grumbled something under his breath. One of the cats, a pretty old one with stripes pattered up to Hitoshi. It lifted their head and mewled, sending an arrow straight through his heart. He crouched down and watched their tail lazily swish back and forth, mewling all the while. 

"You can pet 'em if you want."

Hitoshi glanced up. The Pro Hero was looking at him with a wry, knowing smirk on his face, and his face flushed. His attention was pulled away when the cat butted their head against his knee and rubbed their face along his jeans. Hitoshi hesitantly reached out a hand. The cat bumped their wet nose against his knuckles and sniffed, before ducking under his hand and nuzzling up into his palm. He obliged, gently scratching their head as they purred contentedly.

The other two cats immediately locked onto the new source of petting. They wasted no time piling on top of Hitoshi, demanding attention. 

Eraser came back to the entrance to see his charge absolutely swamped by his cats. If he was being honest, the kid looked like a kitten himself, staring wide-eyed at the other cats as they lavished him with attention. He inwardly sighed and shook his head. "Alright, come on kid. Let me show you to your room."

Hitoshi perked up. He struggled to get the cats off of him (not that he really wanted to . . . ever), but eventually settled on carrying the stripped one with him in his arms. He followed Eraser down a short hall until the older man stopped in front of a door and opened it, stepping away and gesturing inside. And honestly, it was. . . pretty standard by Hitoshi's expectations. The wooden floors and muted blue walls were clean and empty. There was a standard dresser, bed, and bedside table combo. The room had a window in it too with thick curtains, which was always welcome and helped his room feel less like a prison every time his fosters locked him up in it. 

"This will be your space while you're staying with me and my husband," Eraserhead gestured at the mostly empty room. "Feel free to decorate. I know Mic's going to drag you shopping for stuff tomorrow. The rest of your possessions are over at the police station as evidence for their investigation into the Shouka couple for their part in quirk trafficking, but they said they'll be done with it in a few days."

Hitoshi mutely nodded his thanks. 

"Now," Eraser grunted, popping a kink in his neck. "A few ground rules while you're here."

The purple-haired teen immediately tensed. Rules. They were always laid out for him whenever he moved into a new foster home. Mostly they consisted of the same three basic principles - don't speak, don't go to the authorities, don't be seen and don't be heard. He gritted his teeth and braced himself for whatever rules Eraser was going to throw his way, because even though the man was a Pro Hero, he was the one in charge here. Hitoshi couldn't dare disobey. Otherwise he'll be out on the streets again. 

"One," Eraserhead locked eyes with him, serious. "Don't go telling anyone about mine and Present Mic's relationship. If you want to go out for whatever reason, inform me or Mic beforehand. Don't turn off your phone in case one of us needs to contact you. And try to avoid anywhere that's dangerous, especially when its dark. Is there anything you want to add to that?"

Hitoshi stared at him, frozen. Wha-? That's it? That's it?! He's not going to tell him that he'll kick him out if he uses his quirk or something?!?!

Eraserhead lifted a brow. "Well, if you can't think of anything now, you can tell us later. Call me Aizawa, kid, and my husband Yamada. Try not to call either of us by Hero Name while we're off-duty, especially Yamada's."

He nodded mutely, still in shock. Eraserhead - err, Aizawa now he guesses - grunted in approval. "I'll leave you to unpack. Yamada will be back later after his radio show wraps up and we can have dinner. Do you have any allergies or preferences I should be made aware of?"

The boy shook his head.

Aizawa rumbled something. "Would you be okay with having pizza for dinner tonight?"

He nodded. Aizawa scratched the back of his head and gave a non-verbal noise that said he heard, before turning around and dragging his feet back down the hallway. 

Hitoshi released a breath he didn't even realize he had. He glanced at the duffle Aizawa set down on the bed. The purple-haired boy unzipped it and quietly got to work putting his things away. Shirts, hoodies, jeans, undergarments, and socks in the dresser. Toothbrush and toothpaste on the bedside table to take to the bathroom. His father's watch and the only photo left of his parents. . .

He ran his thumb over the old, worn picture. It had a glossy finish, though it was covered in nicks and scratches throughout the years from other kids. In it was a woman with soft blue hair and eyes hugging a toddler from behind. A man stood beside her, a wry but soft smile on his face with deep eyebags and fly-away lavender hair. His hand was wearing the same watch in Hitoshi's hand as he ruffled the toddler's hair, who beamed into the camera as bits of frosting and cake covered his face. A big number 4 candle rested on the side. 

He closed his eyes. He let the memories wash over him, bittersweet and hazy with the passage of time. He hopes that things will start looking up now that he's with a new family, with Eraserhead as his guardian no less. He sat down on the twin bed and flopped down on the covers. Oh. This was actually pretty nice. He sighed in content as he sank down into the navy comforter, the stripped cat curled up on his chest and purring as he pet them. 

He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened up a forum. He wasn't really big on social media given that he didn't have much of a social life to begin with, but. . . 

Vigilantes Subsection : The Watcher of Musutafu, Viridian!

Members: 762

Online: 278

It was a small, albeit mildly popular forum considering the nature of vigilantes. He found that most of the members, or the more active ones anyways, had been saved by or know someone who was saved by Viridian at one point. It steadily gained membership in the past few months since his debut, but it only got its own subsection this morning when the number of people who joined exploded. Likely due to the fire villain and Viridian's jailbreak of some kidnapped people making headlines on Present Mic's radio after a concerned caller freaked out over the vigilante's condition on air. In fact, Hitoshi wanted to know where the guy was too. He needed to thank him for busting him out of that club. That, and he wanted to know if the guy was okay because he didn't see what happened after the bar exploded.

Then again . . . If what Aizawa and the Detective said was true, then maybe he will be able to see the vigilante soon . . . ? 

He internally frowned. Hitoshi wasn't an idiot. He knew the reason why Aizawa took him in. Hell, the man even told him straight to his face when he and the Detective came in to collect his testimony at the hospital. The only reason why Hitoshi wasn't sent back into foster care again was because they were both the lead investigators on Viridian's case, and Viridian had a special interest in him. Not to mention that they had reason to believe that the vigilante had rushed to get his disguise ready that night, so it's possible that Hitoshi was the only person who has seen what Viridian's real face looks like. The other captives at the scene weren't able to get a good look since they were all freaking out over the earlier explosion and the promise of escape to notice much of anything. 

So yeah. He's a person of interest on Viridian's case. Someone who needs protection and holds key information to the vigilante's identity. But if he's being realistic, he has no freaking idea who Viridian really is. Aizawa told him that Viridian is likely someone extremely close to him to the point where they knew all his hobbies, interests, triggers, and even methods to calm him down from panic attacks. It was creepy. The detail about wanting to get a scarf like Eraserhead was equal parts confusing and mortifying to hear from said Hero's mouth. While it's true that he's been wanting Eraserhead merchandise since he first heard about him when he was six, he's never bought a pair of yellow goggles for his birthday. He's never told anyone that having his father's watch is the best way to help him after a nightmare either. And he never had a cat to cuddle with after a nightmare, so he didn't know what to say there too. It's a bunch of information that was highly personal, but there were some that he doesn't remember happening. The only conclusion Aizawa and the Detective made so far is that Viridian must have been someone who was extremely close to him early on, roughly around the time his parents died and he was thrown into foster care.

But no matter how much Hitoshi racks his brain, he doesn't remember anyone who showed that much care for him since . . . ever. It was only ever him and his parents, and Viridian was way too young to be someone who had died a long time ago. Not to mention Hitoshi would have punched the guy if he turned out to be his father that he thought was dead and never bothered to take Hitoshi out of foster care.

So yeah. They all ended up with more questions than answers, so they resolved to just keep an eye on Hitoshi and essentially use him as bait for the vigilante. Is it callous of them? Maybe. But at least Aizawa was upfront about it, unlike his previous fosters, and he's pretty upfront about a lot of things. Moreover, he's been offered a pretty nice place to stay with two of his favorite Pro Heroes. And there's cats. And Aizawa's been genuinely nice to him so far, though a little emotionally constipated like Hitoshi himself. 

He wonders though. What exactly did he do to gain the attention of Musutafu's newest vigilante who was quickly rising in notoriety? Were they childhood friends once? A distant relative even?

He shoved the thoughts out of his mind and mindlessly scrolled through his phone instead.

Post: Unclaimed Pranks on Endeavor Solved??????

Published 21 hours ago

Yo, so, you know about all shiz being pulled on the Number Two Hero but no one knows who's doing it? 

I have a friend that works as a janitor over at the flaming trash pile's hero agency. He's cleaning out the trash from the shizstain's office as usual, no biggie, and then he found this bright green envelope in his wastebasket. It's slightly charred but mostly intact. Of course, trash is trash, so my friend wouldn't have given it a second thought.

Except it was addressed to EndeaVORE. 

Which is the funniest name I've ever heard for the guy, so of COURSE my friend had to read it. And boy, did he READ IT. This is the pic he sent me and I am still W H E E Z I NG.

(attatched lettertoendeavore.png)

Dear Endeavore, the Eternal Number Two,

I hoped you like all the glitter I dumped on you yesterday during that interview on national tv! Good luck trying to get it out of your costume. It's fireproof, so you can't burn it to ashes like your reputation was. Hope you enjoy the rest of your time on earth before Hellfire consumes your soul. Well, whatever's left of it anyways. 

Until next time my dear flaming pile of trash! :D

-V

Green envelope? Signed with the letter V? As we, the fandom know, Viridian is a bit of a jokester who uses humor to passive-aggressively aggravate his opponents, and he doesn't hide his distain for certain heroes. Especially Endeavore. So if this isn't the work of a certain green-hued vigilante protecting Musutafu, then idk who is.

But wait, OP! Doesn't Viridian only go after petty crooks and minor street crimes?

I thought that too, until a few days ago when the infamous call happened on Present Mic's radio, 'Put Your Hands Up!' Apparently Viridian and the fire "villain", the mad lad themselves, had set fire to an entire street in the red light district to bust a quirk trafficking ring in one of the clubs there. We're all worried about him since he's been quiet since the incident, but the fact that the glitter incident with Endeavore happened last night and Viridian's taking the claim PROVES that he's still around and kicking. 

But of course, I'm gonna get comments how that I haven't proved that Viridian is connected to the pranks aside from circumstantial evidence. Plus, who the hell can say they broke into the Number Two Hero's office to deliver a letter? So I did a little digging myself to see if Viridian IS capable of doing just that, but unfortunately the police are pretty tight-lipped regarding the vigilante. All we have to go on is rumor and eyewitnesses here on the forum. 

Which is why I'm using this post as a way to compile all the known info we've got so far on the vigilante, both confirmed and suspected! I doubt that the whole club thing was his first big gig. There's got to be more! Or if not, there will be more in the future!!!! So post down in the comments below what BIG cases you heard Viridian take part in. Cya later loves! <3  

BigBassBoi

yo, so idk if this was confirmed, but i heard a while back that viridian managed to hack a police station and update their cyber security, which is wild

Evenjeez

LOL I can confirm he took down a major gang in my area a while back.  My folks would get extorted by these guys bc there were no heroes nearby to protect us.  And then the next day, the gang just??? disappeared???? And there was an envelope with a huge wad of cash in the mail???? No one knew what happened for a while, but someone who was forced to work for the gang spilled that Viridian just showed up and took down the entire gang, phoned the police for pickup and skedaddled on out. Apparently they've been having ~ issues ~ before then too - missing documents, disrupted supply lines, lower members just up and leaving and their businesses just crashing, and those were all Viridian too????? Like, wth??? What is this madlad?????

QuotingQueen

omk, I wish Viridian would just TAG everything he does bc honestly, that's insane

Hitoshi grimaced internally. He . . . can't say he's surprised if this was actually the case. He watched first-hand how Viridian got those two burly men to cower before him and then proceeded to beat up about a dozen men armed with quirks and guns in a blink of an eye. Once again, he had to wonder just what kind of person he managed to attract.

A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts. He shifted the cat onto his lap so that he could sit up. The door opened, and a foreign-looking man with long blonde hair tied up in a half-do poked his head in. He smiled upon seeing the tired boy and the cat. "Hey there, Little Listener! Shou said he'd be bringing you home today. I can see Sushi's already warmed up to you."

The cat, Sushi, let out a loud merp in reply. Hitoshi absently ran his fingers through their thickening fur coat and nodded silently.

The blonde man looked contemplative for a moment at his lack of verbal response. Then he raised his hand and signed, 'Would you prefer if I used JSL instead?'

Hitoshi blinked, momentarily stunned. He's met two people so far who knew JSL. That's two people more than he's met in his entire life. His stoic mask must not have hid his confusion because Yamada quickly explained, 'I learned it when I was pretty young. Having a quirk that made you loud kinda - ' he gestured to his ears and shrugged, and that didn't need any special knowledge in JSL to translate '- I still have some of my hearing, but my ma's decided I should learn JSL until I could get my quirk under control.'

The young boy internally winced. He could sympathize with that. He cautiously raised his hands and simply signed back, 'Sure. JSL is easier.'

The man lit up like a cat with catnip. He quickly signed, 'Dinner will be here soon! I hope you like pepperoni, cause we ordered that and a supreme pizza if you want more!'

Oh, that's nice. There are options and he gets to pick. Though, they didn't need to be aware of his distaste for bell peppers. 

He nodded once, signed a short thanks, and the blonde man smiled once more. Then he snapped his fingers as if he remembered something. 'Oh yeah! I'm Hizashi Yamada, AKA Present Mic. But you can just call me Zashi or Yellow Cockatoo if you wanna!'

The purple-haired boy nearly snorted at his sign name. Yellow Cockatoo. Makes sense given the hair and his quirk. 

'By the way,' Mic, Zashi, Yellow Cockatoo signed. 'You wanna meet the rest of the cats? I heard from Shou that you met Loudmouth and Brat, but the other two, Nightmare and MSPD, should be hiding around the apartment somewhere.'

More cats to cuddle with? Hell yes. 

Hitoshi got up and followed after the man into the living room. His curious nature eventually got the better of him (even after his quirk manifested and he became afraid of asking questions, it never went away), so he tapped Yamada's arm to get his attention before signing, 'What's MSPD stand for?'

Yamada looked like he was looking at the heavens for strength. He eventually signed back, 'My Sleep Paralysis Demon.'

He snorted for real this time. 

Turns out they didn't have to search too hard. Once they reached the living room, Hitoshi was immediately jumped by five cats and ended up on the floor underneath a pile of floofy happiness. He ignored the way Yamada threw his hands up in the air and started loudly complaining about how not one of those cats had ever done that to him, but apparently they liked purple-haired kids more than blonde loudmouthed adults. 

Eraser - uh, right, it's gonna take some time to get used to calling him by his actual name - slinked into the room. He took one look at Hitoshi sprawled out on the floor with the cats swarming all over him contentedly. He took a seat on the floor next to him and one of the cats with a fluffy blonde coat sauntered over before plopping down on his lap, demanding to be petted. Yamada sighed at his family before falling down on the sofa and turning on the tv.

Loudmouth yowled as Aizawa shot to his feet and swore. 

~*~

Shouta closed the door to the kid's new room and left him to unpack. He didn't stay and help because he knew the kid would want some space after everything's he's been through.

At least, that's what he hopes is the case. He's not like Zashi who can read the room and accurately anticipate the needs of everyone around him. He's not good at comforting people, much less comfort abused foster kids. He knows he's harsh and gruff and emotionally stunted. Hell, he expelled his entire class this year because they didn't have what it took to be heroes, not unless if they died in the first year or would recklessly endanger others. He leaves comforting to his more socially-aware husband. 

But if there's one thing he knows, it's how to deal with emotionally constipated teens who've been through the ringer because he was an emotionally constipated teen who'd been heavily neglected by his parents once. Kindness was often met with distrust for him, and he could see it in the kid's eyes that he wouldn't believe Shouta if he said that he'd take him in without a logical reason. He couldn't let the kid foster the belief that Shouta had an ulterior motive to inviting him into his home. He did that with Zashi because he didn't believe anyone could have been that nice to him, and it only stopped after a lot of screaming and crying and messy emotions that Shouta was not interested in dealing with again. 

So he consulted his husband and a psychologist on the police force, and they both agreed the best way to go about this was slow. They'd tell the kid that the only reason they're taking him in is because he's a key element to the Viridian case. And then from there, they'd try to naturally adopt him into the household, because there was no way they weren't. Not with the way the cats immediately swarmed him. Anyone the cats decide to swarm is automatically deemed a member of the family in Shouta's books, even if he was a little skeptical when Viridian first brought the kid to his attention. Viridian may be annoying, but at least he's a good kid.

Except that notion was thrown out the window when Zashi turned on the tv and showed Endeavor's mansion wreathed in very familiar blue flames went up into ashes, and he stood up and swore. Because there's absolutely no way that stupid idiot wasn't a part of this. 

Hence the reason why he was out the door with his capture scarf and his phone in his hand as he speed-dialed Tsukauchi. The Detective immediately picked up after the first ring and swiftly said, "This was what Viridian meant on the groupchat last night, wasn't it?"

"Most likely," Shouta grunted as he swung up and over a roof.

"Oh Kami, just WHAT is that kid even thinking?!"

"His way of getting Endeavor to stop domestic abuse, if what he's said is to be believed."

"Just - ARGH! Even if the Number Two Hero was hurting his kid, all the evidence for it likely just went up in flames along with his house! We can't investigate a case for domestic violence if there's no house to investigate in the first place, and - wait."

Shouta perched on top of a lamp post. He frowned at Tsukauchi's shift in tone. "What is it?"

There was a rustle on the end of the phone and then a pause. A long one. 

He was growing restless. "Detective, answer me."

Tsukauchi stayed silent. Shouta doubled his speed on his way to the precinct, heart hammering and mind whispering don't be late, don't be too late, not again, not like with Oboro, when a faint voice said, "So . . . about that evidence. . . Viridian somehow managed to get into my office and drop a gigantic folder with a hard drive and documents going back over twenty years. There's a . . . lot to unpack here . . ."

"How much?" He grunted as he landed on the roof of the Musutafu Police Department.

". . . I'll be making coffee, tequila, and energy drinks for us tonight. A lot of it."

Shouta clicked his tongue as he opened the rooftop access, already dreading what was to come. 

Goddangit, Problem Child.

Chapter Text

Shouto now firmly has a new favorite hero and his name is Viridian. Wanted criminal in the eyes or no, he's Shouto's hero.

Endeavor was called away on business again, this time all the way in Hokkaido. The teen suspected that the increased number of incidents Endeavor was called for outside of Musutafu was likely Viridian's doing. The timing seemed to match up. The gradual rise of the number of times Endeavor would be out of town on a mission began shortly after Viridian made his debut. No one knew exactly when it was, but according to the vigilante forum Shouto stumbled across, it had been about a month ago. And just a week before now, Viridian showed up in Endeavor's very own backyard and told Shouto that help would be coming soon.

He just didn't know that help would come in the form of a mysterious note tacked onto his window telling him to stay in Natsuo's apartment that afternoon. He certainly didn't expect to hear Natsuo screaming for him to come to the living room that night, much less see Endeavor's mansion ablaze on the news.

He didn't know what exactly to make of it. Fuyumi freaked out and asked if Shouto was with Natsuo, before she broke every single speed law rushing over to his apartment. Then they asked him if he had anything to do with it because he told them that he packed all of their things, mother's things, and Touya's things into the three big duffle bags that was sitting in the guest bedroom.

He slowly blinked at the terrified expressions on both of their faces. "No," He blankly answered. "I was told to take anything that we didn't want to leave behind in that house and come here."

They both exploded after that. He didn't understand why they thought he was being blackmailed by a villain. Surely they're just overreacting to the situation?

"Shouto," Natsuo clamped both of his hands down on his shoulders. "Baby bro. Candy cane. Can you tell us who told you to do all that? Are you in any danger? Was Endeavor the one who set this up somehow?!"

He stared blankly back at them. "It was Viridian, the vigilante that's been pranking Endeavor. I told you before that he said he was coming to help us. But I don't understand how burning down the house helps."

They both balked at him.

"Sh-Shouto," Fuyumi anxiously and softly said. "Wh-when exactly did you m-meet with Viridian?"

"He came into the backyard and talked during one of Endeavor's business trips last week."

Their eyes bulged out even further. He paused, taking in their expressions before the realization struck. "Oh. I forgot to tell you."

Natsuo got down on his knees and screamed into a pillow. Fuyumi just fainted. As it were, Shouto was the only one available to answer the call from the police to check up on them and confirm they were all okay before an officer came by to pick them all up. Shouto stared a little too long at the officer's cat ears and missed his introduction before being ushered into a car, Fuyumi already awake and still pale.

They had a choice of being interviewed separately or altogether, and his siblings readily jumped on the second option before Shouto even realized what was being asked.

So here he was, sitting on a couch sandwiched between his siblings who were oddly close to him, with a mug of tea in his hands and a blanket around his shoulders at their request. They were in a nice, homey room with another navy couch opposite of the coffee table. There was a window with the blinds drawn closed, and multiple house plants scattered throughout the room, and a cupboard that had blankets, snacks, and a coffee pot. It was a standard office set up.

Not that Shouto has ever been in many offices, since he's always at home either eating, sleeping, being homeschooled, or training. Actually, when was the last time he went out before today?

There was a knocked on the door. His siblings automatically tensed, before forcing themselves to relax when the door opened. A tall man in a trench coat and hat greeted them. He tipped his hat and said, "Hello. Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto, right? I'm Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, one of the officers in charge of your case."

Fuyumi bowed, having adopted their mother's penchant for being polite. "It's nice to meet you, Detective. Though it would be better under different circumstances."

The detective nodded, not unkindly. He took a seat on the couch and sat a briefcase down on the cushion next to him. He took off his hat and settled it down on his briefcase. "I'm. . . Going to be blunt with you three. You're all free to leave this conversation at any time, especially you, Shouto."

He frowned a little. "Me?"

The Detective nodded solemnly. "Would you all mind tell me if there was anything strange that happened prior to the mansion catching fire?"

Natsuo nudged his elbow. Shouto blinked at him in confusion, and his older brother sighed. "Why don't you tell the Detective about your encounters with Viridian?"

Oh. That he could do.

So he recounted the past two and only instances he had with the vigilante, if you could count the one earlier today with the note on his window as one. The Detective looked significantly more tired as the story wore on, and Shouto had to wonder if he was somehow boring the man despite keeping the tale brief. The older man sighed by the time he finished, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something under his breath. He thought he heard something about alcohol, but he figured he just misheard.

"Okay, that confirms his involvement with the case," He muttered the last line as he took his briefcase. He popped it open and extracted a folder the thickness of an encyclopedia out before setting it on the table. He put the case away and turned the folder so that the opening faced them. "Earlier today, we received this at the precinct that is believed to have come from the vigilante, Viridian. According to our sources, he was concerned what was happening behind closed doors with Endeavor, and well. . . The documents contained in here confirms it."

Fuyumi gasped. Natsuo stood up and slammed his hands on the table, startling Shouto. He snarled at the Detective and yelled out, "BULLSHIZ! You can't have gotten evidence on that man for what he's done after all these years! He - he - !"

"Natsuo, please - !" Fuyumi pleaded.

The Detective shook his head, face still passive but not unfriendly. "It's the truth. Me and my men are still working through all the original documents, so what you see here are the copies that Viridian managed to collect. Though we're still unsure how he's able to get a hold of these items, what we're more concerned with is what these documents contain."

He pulled out a file in the folder. Shouto's heart skipped a beat when he saw the name written in marker on the top. Rei Yukiyama.

"In here, we have records of a large transaction between Enji Todoroki's account and the parents of Rei Yukiyama's accounts," The Detective pulled out a printout. It showed the bank records between Endeavor and the Yukiyamas, and how a significant amount of money had been transferred into the Yukiyama's over two decades ago. There was a note attached to it with a paper clip, the letters being printed out instead of handwritten. It simply, but shockingly read, transaction of when Enji Todoroki bought Rei Yukiyama from her family for a quirk marriage.

Natsuo stared at the note in disbelief. He feel back to the couch and ran a hand through his hair, laughing incredulously. "Holy shiz. This is real."

The Detective nodded. "If you could, would you mind expanding on this further? Before we begin, I'm legally obligated to tell you that my quirk is Lie Detector, meaning that I can confirm anything you say as fact or fiction."

All three siblings froze. Literally in Fuyumi's case, because there was a small frost spreading along the arm of the couch.

Natsuo was quick to tell Detective Tsukauchi everything about Endeavor. The quirk marriage, Touya's disappearance and his father's lack of explanation to where he's been, his mother's mental breakdown when she heard her eldest had died and burned Shouto - all of it. The Detective nodded at each point, bringing out the corresponding files and pieces of evidence for confirmation of each of these events before moving to the next one.

And Shouto. . . Shouto was in shock. Fuyumi clutched her arms around him tightly, whether for her sake or for his, he did not know. His hands were shaking by the time Natsuo had finished. His eyes were wide. Is this. . . Is this all real? After a decade, two for his siblings, of being trapped under that man's hold, are they finally going to be . . . free?

The Detective looked determined. "Not legally, not at first. But from the evidence gathered here today and your testimonies, it'll be enough to separate you from Endeavor while the investigation is underway. Moreover, because Viridian seemed to have joined forces with the fire villain from the red-light district incident a few days ago to burn down the estate, it gives us the chance to place you all under protective custody. We'll have a team of trusted Pro Heroes protecting you twenty-four seven until the matter is resolved. Unfortunately, Endeavor will have to know about your whereabouts and we can't deny visitation rights, but he'll only be allowed to see you under the strict presence of at least two of your Pro Hero protectors."

"Oh my Kami," Natsuo gaped.

"Additionally, there's the matter of Shouto being a minor," the Detective grimaced. "Endeavor is still his legal guardian, but Fuyumi can petition the court to gain custody. Nevertheless, the process of gaining the court's approval for it can take a while, which places Shouto in jeopardy in terms of where he's can go."

Shouto's stomach dropped. "Oh. So I'll have to go back to Endeavor then."

Natsuo seethed. "If you think you can take my little brother away from me, then I'll - !"

The Detective held up a hand and sent him a sharp stare. "Your brother will not be sent back to Endeavor. Thankfully enough, I have two contacts who are Pro Heroes with emergency foster licenses and a long history of taking in kids in legally precarious situations such as this one. In fact, they have another kid living with them right now that is Shouto's age."

"But, wait, we don't even know them," Fuyumi desperately pleaded. "Or the other child. I'm not trying to be rude, but I'm just trying to think about my family's best interests."

Natsuo glared at the table angrily as the Detective nodded. "Understood. You both are free to visit Shouto at any time you want, though you'll have to arrange it with the schedules of my contacts'."

"I don't know . . ." His sister looked away, pained.

"Even if they're Pro Heroes," Natsuo spat. "That doesn't mean we can trust them. Look at Endeavor! He's Number Two and we just went over everything he's done to me, my siblings, and my mom! Hell, how do you even know if they're not abusing that kid the same as Endeavor did to us?!"

"Natsuo!" Fuyumi quickly scolded.

"No, please, his reasoning is valid given your situation," The Detective seemed contemplative for a second, and then pained. He sighed. "Alright. I'm asking you this seriously, but how far would you trust Viridian?"

"With my life," Shouto answered, not even missing a beat. His siblings turned on him, shock coloring their features. He glanced back at them and ran the pad of his thumb over the back of his hand, something mom used to do before Endeavor drove her away. "He got us out, didn't he? He kept his promise. He did what the others couldn't, so I trust him."

Fuyumi looked close to tears. Natsuo winced and backed down.

The Detective nodded. "I'm telling you all of this in confidence. Not a word of this should be spoken outside of this room, are we clear?"

The three siblings nodded their heads. Two reluctantly, and the third determinedly. The Detective stared back solemnly. "The contacts that I mentioned before. . . Well, they were personally asked by Viridian to adopt the kid currently under their care."

Now that was a shock. Shouto blinked, eyes wide. His two siblings reacted their surprise even more expressively.

"What I'm saying is, Viridian trusts these two. A lot. He's extremely protective of the kid that's with them, and I highly doubt he would put the care of someone he's placed under his protection to someone that hasn't earned it," The man explained. "If you want, you can meet one them right now. He's in the precinct, so I can call him over so that you can get to know him a little more."

"That," Fuyumi swallowed. "Um, that would be nice. Thank you."

The Detective nodded. "Alright. I'll just leave the room to give you a moment to think while I call him over. It'll only be a few minutes."

The door shut close behind the man. They waited until his footsteps grew distant, before Natsuo swiftly rounded on his younger brother.

"Bro, little bro, tiniest bro," He shook his shoulder as Shouto looked at him in mild confusion at his alarm. "Are you sure about this? I mean, it's one thing to have this guy prank Endeavor and like him for it, but he burnt down our entire house. Don't you think you're kinda jumping the gun a little too early for someone so dangerous?"

"But I wasn't in the house," He pointed out, still confused. "And he gave me ample enough time to leave the premises with all our belongings."

"Shouto, that's - that's not the issue," Fuyumi looked nervous. She stared at him right in the eyes as her face turned desperate. "He burned down our house."

He blinked. "I don't get it."

Natsuo groaned loudly and gripped his hair, swearing loudly. Fuyumi just hugged him and ran her hands through his hair, which confused him even more.

Well, at least he no longer has to go back to Endeavor. Not if Viridian is helping out.

~*~

Dabi watched as Viridian was being hounded by his mother. The pink-haired chick left a while ago. Something about needing to check up on her "babies," but a teen mom wouldn't be anything new around these parts. What is new is this Viridian guy. Living on the streets meant that he picked up how to read people and quick considering he's lived this long. Which people to avoid, which people to suck up to, which are weaker than you, and which people you do not cross no matter what otherwise you're screwed and death will be a mercy.

And Viridian just . . . fits into none of those categories. He's someone you would avoid but should have as an ally. He's a good person, but then he also has no qualms about burning down someone's house, even if it does belong to that jerk of a sperm donor. He should be working either alone or with a friend, but he's got a mother with an iron spine patching him up without batting an eye. And then he also has a shizton of information about him and Toga, which raises a lot of flags, but he's still helping them out anyways. He's also pretty sure that he knows about his past as Touya Todoroki, but he didn't comment on it any further after his initial deflection.

So the vigilante is a freaking enigma and Dabi isn't sure whether to burn him or cooperate with him. For now, though, he supposes he can join forces with the little guy considering he did get to burn down Endeavore's mansion and get little Shouto outta that man's clutches. He's a little bitter that a pre-pubescent kid managed to do it in two months when Dabi took a near decade and couldn't even come close to taking down Endeavore, letting alone save his family.

But the fact of the matter is, they're out. For now. And the kid's got plans on getting his family away from the abuser's influence completely, so Dabi won't turn him into ashes just yet.

(And if he likes the fact that Inko has turned into a mother figure in his life - he'd never replace his birth mother - and knew burning her son would make that go away, no one had to know)

He sighed, slumping over in the ratty chair as he waited for Toga to wake up from her equally ratty mattress. The chair tilted to one side. He sighed again, getting up and bending over to fix the duct tape and splint keeping that one chair leg straight.

The bed creaked. He will forever deny that he immediately shot straight up and was over by Toga's side in an instinct. Screw him, his older brother instincts never went away.

Toga groaned and rolled over. She cracked open an eye and stared up at him. She squinted. "Da . . . bi . . . ?"

He shoved a pack of blood at her and painkillers. He sneered. "You seriously got yourself into a mess this time, vampire."

She groggily sat up and swiped blood pack, screwing off the cap and eagerly drinking it down before swallowing the pills dry. "Where'd you get the meds? Stole from a pharmacy again?"

He frowned. "How much do you remember?"

She looked at him. "Stealing from a pharmacy."

He lightly flicked her forehead and she whined. "I meant you being kidnapped, brat."

"Oh," She muttered, eyes glazing over. He took the glass from her hand and placed it on the floor away from then. "I remember going out because I needed blood again . . . but then I got hit in the head? I dunno, head hurts. They didn't give me anything, not even their pretty blood. Not until the blonde kid came and gave me some of his? Awww, I wanted to see moreeeeeee."

"Well," Dabi huffed. "Good news. That blondie you met is actually a greenette wearing a wig, and he's in the next room."

"Really?!" She lit up. Then winced at the sudden movement and held her head, whimpering.

Dabi rested a hand on her forehead. His body ran colder than a normal person's, which made him the go to icepack in their tiny, dilapidated apartment. She whined as he slowly pushed her back down on the bed. Was she warmer than usual? Or was he thinking that because of his cold body temp again?

"Hold on, I'll be right back," He murmured, standing up. "There's a nurse who can help you out."

She whimpered. "Did you. . . kidnap her . . . ?"

He snorted. "No, she came with Greenie. She's his mother, apparently."

Her face scrunched up. "Do they have nowhere to go either?"

"I have no idea," He replied, popping his head out the door and pattering down the hall. The mother and son duo were right where he left them. Greenie was lying down on the couch on his belly in a short pair of boxers, the burns and lacerations that traced all over the back of his torso and limps an ugly sight to bear. Inko was pulling gauze and ointment to her with beckoning motions of her hands as she worked tirelessly to heal her son up. He cleared his throat.

Without looking up from her work, she kindly asked, "What is it you need, dear?"

A pang echoed in his heart. "Toga's awake, but she may be running a fever. Can't tell."

She nodded. "Alright, let me finish up here. Did she take her blood and pills?"

"Yeah. Thanks for that," He muttered. Hey, he may be a lowlife criminal, but he's a lowlife criminal with decent freaking manners.

"Not a problem, dear. Let me know if you need any more," She tied the bandage up around her son's leg and nodded to herself. She stood up, a bright smile on her face as she cleaned up and put everything into a huge purse. "I'll go check up on Toga and then leave for my shift. I left curry and soup for all three of you in the fridge, so help yourselves! Please, all three of you are too skinny."

He nodded, already having learnt the first time not to say anything against her. She patted his arm and left, humming to herself as she went into the room Toga was staying in.

He looked back at Greenie, still dead to the world. Do they not have any sense of self-preservation? They're in the apartment with two strangers, both of which are exceedingly dangerous and unstable individuals, and they just . . . they're not even wary of them. Greenie's heavily injured and the woman doesn't look like she'd be able to defend herself. All he had to do is wave his hand and they'd both be incinerated. Or Toga can use them as throwing boards for her knives.

So why did the woman leave her son so readily in the care of two strangers in their busted apartment in the bad side of town? Why did she make the trek to and from this place everyday when they had a place that was cleaner and more importantly, safer? How can she be so nonchalant about cooking for a guy with skin grafts and staples and a maniac who is always two seconds away from stabbing someone?!?!

Maybe it's the whole finding out her son was a vigilante thing. Yeah. That's it. There's bound to be some crazy shiz that goes down with it.

He ran a hand through his hair. The door to Toga's room opened again and Inko stepped out, walking over to him. "You're right, dear. The poor thing has a bit of a fever, but she'll recover in no time as long as she rests. You take care of her and my son, you hear?"

He nodded. Once again, you don't argue against her.

"Okay. I'll see you all later, and don't forget to call me if anything comes up!" She put on her sneakers and was out the door not a second sooner. Again, he'll never figure out how she manages to walk through this section of the city at night, alone, without having been mugged once. She's got a minor attraction quirk. It didn't even look like she had pepper spray on her. How is she able to defend herself?!

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Again, he'll never understand these two and that crazy pink-haired chick of theirs. Maybe it's better that he didn't.

Chapter Text

Holy shiznit, my fanfic actually inspired someone else's!!! Go check out pause, rewind by Remyblunder, because holy shiz is this Izuku tired as all hell from constantly looping.

"Dabi."

Said man glanced up from his glass. The League's resident pipsqueak was staring back at him. His red eyes were boring into his with startling clarity, and if he was a lesser man he'd be shaking. But instead, he lifted his brow in challenge. "What is it, shrimp?"

"We need to talk."

"'Bout what?" He knocked the glass back, relishing in a different type of burn pouring down his throat. He slammed it down on the counter, getting a disapproving look from Kurogiri. He flipped a finger sight back and sneered. 

"The Endeavor case," The shrimp started off, leaning lazily against the counter. "I noticed a very interesting connection between our dear Number One and the HPSC."

"And what about it?" He tried for a light tone, but it came out flat instead. Shiz.

"Why don't we discuss this further upstairs?" His eyes glinted. "Privately."

He scowled. The brat pushed himself off the counter and bounded up the steps, Dabi following with his hands buried deep into his pockets. They stopped at the top of the steps. The brat took out a key and inserted it into the lock of one of the doors and swung it open, gesturing for Dabi to come inside.

It was . . . normal. For lack of a better term. Plain sheets, plain walls, plain desk. The only thing of note was the large bookcases that dominated along the walls of the room, stuffed with row after row after row of weaknesses and battle tactics tucked away in composition notebooks bought at a dollar store. There was no reason to lock them away. No one could read their contents except Deku, and with Nezu out of the picture, that was really the heroes' only chance of figuring out their plans. 

Deku sat at the his desk and regarded him.

"What?" He snapped.

The brat picked up a folder on his desk and simply said, "This."

He flung it across the room where it hit the floor and opened. Papers spilled out. He didn't understand what the hell he was looking at first, but then he caught the words and pictures and his blood ran cold. He clicked his tongue and hunched over. "Alright, so you figured out that I'm Touya Todoroki. Big whoop-dee-doo. What are you going to do about it?"

". . . I can get your mother and your siblings away from him," He plainly stated. 

His face hardened. "And what makes you think I care?"

"I didn't, but the way you got all defensive like a big brother bear just confirmed it. Thanks."

Flames erupted along his hands. "Drop the bullshiz Deku and tell me what you're after."

Bored red eyes stared back at him. A lazy smile stretched across his face. "I noticed dear Shouto has a fire aspect of his quirk, but I wonder. Why did he only use his ice during the Sports Festival? Even when he was shivering on that final stage with Bakugou, he should've been using his fire to heat himself up at least. So that got me thinking. . . What if you went to him and -"

"No," He instantly shot down. "He'd never become a villain. It won't work."

"You sure?" Deku shot back. "We're hunting down the heroes after this. They'll have no support from the public. They'll be easier to take down. We'll be razing hero schools to the ground, and last I checked, Shouto is in Shiketsu. It'll be a slaughter fest."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, this was what Sensei had planned from the beginning," He shrugged. "I can't stop it. Not that I even want to. I'm just saying that if you get your brother to join us, he'll get out of the crossfire and you'll have better ammunition to take down Endeavor. It's a situation where everyone benefits."

He glared. "Why are you telling me this?"

Deku flippantly waved his hand. "Consider this as payment for helping me out in Kamino. I know you've been visiting your mother and coordinating our attacks away from the hospital she's at, not that I particularly care. You have two days to decide. Two more weeks to convince Shouto of whatever before Endeavor happens, and one more week after that before we turn the remaining hero schools into ashes. We're on a tight schedule, Dabi. We can't afford any delays."

Dabi clenched his fists. Fire bubbled under his skin, ready to be let loose.

He turned around and left for Shiketsu instead.

~*~

Shouta wanted to strangle that idiot vigilante. As in whip out his capture scarf, string him up on the tallest building in Musutafu, and leave him there. It's only been a few days since the incident at the club before the vigilante decided to burn down the house of the Number Two Pro Hero. How the hell did that kid manage to pull that off? Isn't he on bed rest or something?! Was Endeavor's security system not enough to handle an injured kid and a heavily scarred arsonist?!

He landed on a water tower. He plunked down and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He needed a break. Viridian was enough of a handful to deal with before the club. But now that the public was aware of his existence and this?

Viridian is no longer a name whispered by cops, Heroes, and the backstreet. It's a name spoken on social media and on trains, and everyone was trying to root out the identity of this vigilante and his relation to the powerful fire villain that rampaged just a few days ago.

Except calling him a villain has become controversial. After all, he managed to create a distraction that allowed Viridian to bust a quirk trafficking ring. It came at the cost of all the other buildings on the street and injuries from the panicked stampede that followed, so most people settled on calling him a vigilante. Someone who's joined forces with Viridian if this new incident has anything to say.

He propelled himself off the tower and started along his route again.

One month. One month since Viridian showed up and wrought chaos to all of Japan. It was Naruhata all over again. The moment he popped into Shouta's life was when all semblance of peace ended, and now he has two problem children living in his home because they were both connected to Viridian in some way. And if that wasn't enough, one of them is the kid of the Number Two Hero who has all the hallmarks of a textbook abuse victim with his abuser demanding to meet him and no legal way to say no.

He was sorely tempted to just take the kids, the cockatoo, his cats, and book it. What the hell did the world have against these kids? Why do they both have to be traumatized far more than any Pro Hero could handle? Is Viridian like this too? Is he going to be adopting more abused kids because of this vigilante?!

A click came over his coms. He continued moving, not wanting to lose the momentum, waiting for the other person to speak. Likely a nearby agency requesting backup.

"Heya Eraser!"

Any hope of a normal night went flying out the window and splattered on the tarmac. He pressed a finger against the device in his ear and snapped, "Problem Child, why did you burn down the home of the Number Two Pro Hero? It hasn't even been a week since the club."

"You're not going to ask how I managed to hack the Hero Network?"

"Problem. Child," he seethed.

"Uhhh, I'm appalled you think that I'm the one going around and committing arson. Because I swear it was my friend this time who did it. I had to get Shouto Todoroki outta there somehow. Even with all the evidence I gave you, a case of domestic violence against Endeavore would drag on too long and Shouto ran the risk of even more abuse given the flaming trash pile's temperament while it happened. So I did the next best thing. Ask my friend to burn his house down! Like I said, you can't commit domestic violence without a home to do it in ~ !"

"That was a highly reckless and dangerous maneuver," He retorted. "You said you were waiting for preparations to be done over on our side."

"And I am!" The vigilante chipperly responded. "But who said that Shouto and his siblings had to be under Endeavore's roof while it happened? I knew you and Tsukauchi would take Shouto in since he's met the ever elusive vigilante Viridian, and because you have a habit of adopting hurt little strays like no one else. Plus, with the whole world watching Endeavore and his family because of this incident, he can't afford to make a move without causing a big scandal. So Shouto no longer gets abused and the case against Endeavore can still continue without hero society toppling over! It's a win for everyone!"

Of course he's managed to plan all this out using someone he just met. Of. Course.

(And if he's concerned that the kid employed tactics on par with those seen in organized crime, then no one has to know but Tsukauchi and the bottle of vodka he whipped out)

"Why are you contacting me right now?" He gruffly asked, lashing his capture weapon out onto a fresco and hoisting himself over a wide gap between buildings. "Yamada was helping Shouto settle in when I left. Kid seemed fine, if not curious of his new surroundings."

"Haha, guess you caught me!" The vigilante sang. "Also there's a robbery five blocks away, three brothers, all have metal manipulation quirks. Amplifier is in the area and has been notified. ETA three minutes to location. Good luck!"

Another click, and Viridian was offline. Shouta clicked his tongue and changed direction. It didn't take long to find the store because of an ear-splitting alarm that went off, apparently the robbers were taking . . .

Lucky cats?

He sighed and dropped down, erasing two of the brothers' quirks fighting Amplifier while he dropkicked the third.

He's not paid enough to deal with this shiz.

~*~

Tired violet eyes stared. Stoic but curious gray and blue stared right back. Wide green eyes belonging to a blonde man flitted nervously between them as Loudmouth yowled under the table for attention, plates of hot pizza in between them.

"It's pizza," Hitoshi slowly said, like one would with a cat blankly staring back. "Bread. Then tomato sauce. Then cheese. And whatever toppings you want on top."

The other kid turned his gaze to the slice of pepperoni on his paper plate. ". . . I can put soba on it?"

Hitoshi wanted to slam his head onto the table. "No. That would make it taste weird."

"Oh. What about rice?"

"Same thing as the soba."

"How do you eat this with chopsticks?"

"Oh my Kami," Hitoshi groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at the kid. "How the hell do you not know what pizza is?!"

He blinked. "I've never had it before."

"Then what have you had before?"

"Cold soba," He answered. "Miso soup, Oden, Sukiyaki, Sashimi, Kaiseki - "

"Wait," The tired teen narrowed his eyes. "Kaiseki? As in that one really expensive tasting course?"

The bi-color haired teen blinked once more. "It's . . . expensive?"

Hitoshi felt his soul leave his body. Is it expensive, he asks. Is it expensive?! He turned his gaze over to Yamada, who chuckled nervously and shrugged. "Where'd you pick this guy up from again?"

"He didn't," The new guy answered.

"Then who did?"

"The tired man with the long dark hair brought me here."

Hitoshi really did slam his head on the table this time. He knows his social skills are nonexistent, but this guy might as well be dancing around with the freaking crown on his head. "Then why are you here?" He groaned.

"Oh," The other boy prodded his pizza innocently. "It's because I had no where to go after Viridian set my previous residence on fire."

His head shot up. "I'm sorry, what?"

Yamada groaned, as if he expected this. "Please, I beg of you two. Eat before you swap stories with other!"

"Okay," The expressionless boy went back to poking his pizza. "I still don't know how to use chopsticks with this."

It took five more minutes of explaining to Shouto ("I don't like my last name," he bitingly explained, and Hitoshi filed away for later in case this guy decides to beat him up) that no, you don't eat pizza with chopsticks, you use your hands ("Wouldn't that be messy?" He frowned. Hitoshi slowly took a wad of napkins and slapped it into his face, ignoring Yamada's ungodly screeching beside him). Then it took ten more minutes of explaining to Shouto how to eat his slice without getting sauce all over his face ("This is oddly spicy," He mildly remarked, and Hitoshi couldn't help but stare because this was pepperoni they were talking about -). Suffice to say, by the end of the whole entire ordeal, Hitoshi was one hundred percent convinced that Shouto was an alien. There was zero doubt in his mind. There's no other way to explain the train wreck that happened over the course of twenty minutes.

"So," The tired teen casually began once they got back to his - their room. There was only one guest room with one bed that was designated as Hitoshi's, so they didn't have anything for Shouto aside from a futon that he was surprisingly okay with. "Viridian burned your house down. Care to share with the rest of the class how that happened?"

He blinked. "He approached me a few weeks ago saying that he was going to save me and my family from my father."

His brow furrowed. It wouldn't be the first time he's come across a kid like this, but it left a sour taste on his tongue nevertheless. The scar on the other kid's face didn't help the picture he was painting. "Was he . . . ?"

"Was he what?"

Hitoshi bit back a snarl and a grimace. ". . . Hurting you?"

Shouto looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes. Yes he was. Viridian found out, so he told me to take everything I didn't want to leave behind in that house and go stay with someone else for a while. He burned down the house last night."

"Uh huh. . ." The tired teen narrowed his eyes, specifically at the red hair and the one blue eye. "Your sperm donor wouldn't happen to be Endeavor, would it?"

The other boy immediately tensed. He glared. "I'm not him."

"Never said you were," He smoothly replied. "Guess I'm not the only one Viridian busted out of a bad home then."

His angry demeanor dropped in an instant. His eyes were slightly wide and he could practically see the stars twinkling in them. "Viridian is my hero."

He snorted. "I guess he's mine too. You hear about what happened in the club when Viridian's friend set fire to that one street?"

The other boy nodded. "He rescued people being held there?"

"Yeah," Hitoshi rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. "It was a quirk trafficking ring. I was one of the people he busted out. Viridian had his eye on me before then, so Aizawa and Yamada took me in because I'd go back to the foster system otherwise. I'm guessing that it's the same with you."

"I suppose so," He remarked. A phone rang. He reached into his duffle bag that lay beside him and dug it out. He held it up to his ear and answered. "Hello."

A soft, feminine, and distinctly worried voice filtered out through the other end of the line. "I'm alright. I had something called bisah for dinner."

Hitoshi dragged a hand down his face and groaned. "Pizza. It's called pizza, Shouto."

"Oh," He paused. "Shinsou told me that it's named pizza."

The voice turned exasperated. Nice to know that the other person shared his pain.

"He's the other person Viridian helped. He likes Viridian too."

The voice goes quiet for a moment. And then a quiet scuffle, another conversation happening with someone else outside of the call, and then the voice came back. Shouto looked a little confused before saying, "No, Shinsou is a nice person. He groans a lot though."

And whose fault is that? He inwardly snarked, staring at Shouto vacantly. Empty, like his soul.

"Okay. I'll call you if anything happens or if I see Viridian again," He amicably responded. "Good night."

The call ended and Shouto buried his phone back into his duffel bag. It was quiet for a moment, until Hitoshi whipped out his own phone and asked, "Did Viridian really pull all those pranks on Endeavor?"

The boy with the heterochromatic eyes lit up.

And that was how Yamada found them half an hour later, sitting beside each other on Hitoshi's bed as they broke the internet with the knowledge that yes, someone can confirm every single debacle Viridian dumped on Endeavor, and that person just so happen to have videos of the man ranting over dinner to prove it. They were gonna get in so much trouble with the adults in the morning, but honestly?

Worth it.

~*~

Izuku hummed merrily to himself as he crossed off another goal from his whiteboard before adding a new one. He capped the pen and appraised the corkboard, feeling a rush of pride at everything he's accomplished. Five months ago, he was living in a post-apocalyptic world with Eri by his side, clinging on to the last hope they had for salvation. Now he was here, over a decade into the past, rewriting history. His mother didn't die on that fateful April day. She's alive and he comes home to her smiles and kisses. Shinsou wasn't in foster care. He was under the careful guidance of the Yamazawa's, training to become a hero. Maybe he'll even get into the Hero Course without the Sports Festival this time. Shouto and his siblings were no longer under Endeavor's command, not fully at least, but there's a long way to go before Izuku can complete his promise to Dabi.

Speaking of Dabi, both he and Toga were. . . wary. It's difficult to reconcile the living with the dead in his memories, and his heart still aches knowing that his Toga and Dabi would never exist. 

Kami, he hopes they never will. He doesn't want to hear Toga's screams when she found Magne, or see Dabi's charcoal body. The Toga and Dabi he knew are gone, but that doesn't mean he can't forge a bond with the ones still alive. 

And now for his last and most important operation to date . . .

He pursed his lips. His fingers ran over the sketch tacked onto the wall. In the beginning it was hastily drawn, fingers and mind frantically trying to get down all the details before he forgotten. Then as time wore on, he added more details to smooth the image. Solemn red eyes. Cropped, wavy white hair. A horn peaking through choppy side bangs. Pink jacket, siblings' knives, combat boots.

He has a location on the Eight Precepts. He's remembered it from his past life. Every detail of every trade and facet of the organization. He just needed to be careful and confirm all of it. One little slip is all it took for this entire operation to go south. It's not like Endeavor where he can use the threat of public opinion and legal action to corner his opponent. This time, his opponent has a cult following and would not hesitate to take him down. This time, he has his sister's life on the line because of this monster.

His fists clenched.

She's the last one. After that, to UA, and taking out Shigaraki at USJ before he could become a serious threat. Then Kamino, then All for One, and then it'll be all over. From there. . . 

He closes his eyes and pushes it out of his mind. He'll come to that bridge when he gets there. 

He sighed, hobbling over to his bed and carefully laid down on his stomach. It was his first night back in their apartment. His mother had called the school and told them they had been in a villain attack and Izuku was recovering at home because of quirk-related injuries for the week, but he'll be there in class by Monday morning. Which is, you know, in about two days since today was Saturday.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep. His dreams were plagued by the same shrieking faces and bloody hands that condemned him for his betrayal. He saw his mother's corpse rising and howling in despair, crying out where she went wrong. He saw Eri's broken expression, asking why she never was a normal child and why he hasn't come for her yet. He saw Dabi and Toga as the Nomu ripped them to shreds to buy them time to escape. Kacchan screaming as Ochako died in his arms before rushing at the Nomu in a blind rage. Meimei on that cot in the lab, weak and pale and nothing like the vivacious pink-haired inventor he'd grown close to. He dreamed of Shinsou's warm embrace before the other shoved him away, grief and horror marring his face as the blood dripped down the blade Izuku had stabbed into his back.

He's had these nightmares for years. Some parts real. Some parts not. All conjured from his tortured mind. But they're easier to handle that night. He looks at all of them and tells himself that they're not failures, but reminders of what he's changing. He'll turn these shackles into determination. Those ghosts will haunt him forever, but their counterparts will live on from here on out. He can do it. Just you wait.

Yet unaware to the boy, something else stirred in the dark. Something that threatened to take his dreams and turn them to dust. Because the past never stays in the past, and, well.

The future never stays in the future.

Chapter Text

Mikumo swung his feet from a tree branch, humming happily to himself as he spied through Bakugou's window with a pair of binoculars. Wow, he looked so terrible! He hunched over his desk, face pale and eyebags deep. His hair was messy and lacked direction. His room looked like a whirlwind tore through it, books and bedsheets and weights overturned and scattered haphazardly around. The only thing left untouched in the disaster was a single corkboard that swallowed an entire wall. Mikumo switched the magnification. He could see a map of Japan and Musutafu. A missing person's report deemed as a runaway. Papers upon papers writing out leads, only to come up empty when the string unraveled. An old picture of two laughing three-year old's were tacked onto a corner, well-worn from fingers constantly running over it in the past four months.  

He giggled to himself. Sensei gave him the day off to stretch his legs out in the wild. He's spent fourteen years roaming these streets, but not once has he ever felt as free as he did now. No more fosters. No more school. No more Heroes like All Might and definitely no more Bakugou. 

He could roam anywhere he wanted to today, but he came here because he was curious to see what his old tormentor was up to. It was cute that he was trying to find him. Poor Bakugou, looking to patch things up with Izuku now that he's gone from your life, just like you wanted? Did you really think a simple apology will erase a decade of verbal beatdowns and physical abuse, of starburst scars and silvery handprints that littered his body? Will it bring back his mother that you so brutally killed with your precious quirk, blissfully unaware of the blood staining your hands?

He smirked. Poor Kacchan. You're too late now. Just like you told him on that fateful day, Izuku Midoriya jumped off a roof with the last of his hopes for the future. All that was left is a broken husk you helped carve out. You'll never enjoy the sweet taste of redemption. Instead, he hopes you'll enjoy the rest of your life in agony knowing that you drove your "best friend" into villainy. All those people that once praised you as a hero will finally see you for what you really are - an abuser. A tormentor. Villainous scum.  And when the world turns on you, I wonder if you'll finally figure it out. Just a little. Maybe even a smidgen as you decide to jump off a roof.

Maybe you'll understand what Izuku Midoriya had to endure for fourteen years.

~*~

Katsuki was this close to killing that stupid nerd. Seven months. It's been seven months since Deku started acting off. And he's gotten no closer to figuring out what happened to him. He's tried yelling at him, beating him, destroying his things, so much so that even the teachers had gotten freaked out once and told him to stop.

Hah. As if. It's nothing they hadn't told him to do to the Quirkless freak.

The usual methods didn't work. So by the second week of this happening, he had tailed him.

Except that didn't work either because the nerd freaking disappeared each time! It was driving him up the wall! The nerd acts like nothing is wrong but he can see limps and flashes of bruises he didn't give him. He doesn't stammer, and he's no longer smiling that weird, shaky smile of his. His eyes are dead. He wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake all the answers out of him.

"What the hell happened to you, Deku?!"

A wry smile. Like he knew something he didn't, which infuriated him even more. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What happened to that smiley freaking nice guy act?!" He scathingly spat. "Didn't you say you wanted to be like All Might?!"

He scoffed. "No. I'd rather be more like Eraserhead."

"HAH?! You're following some freaking D-Lister extra now? Stop lying and cut the crud, Deku!"

"He's cool, though," The nerd mildly commentated. "And he's a more realistic model than All Might. I can't see myself with gigantic muscles and faking a smile all the time."

He scowled. "That's all you've ever talked about since we were kids!"

He blinked, face still impassive and eyes still dead. "So? I'm just being pragmatic. When you become a hero, are you going to run around shouting, 'I am here!' to civilians with a smile on your face?"

He growled even more. "Why the hell would I?!"

"Mmm," He hummed. "See? You're not going to be like All Might anymore than I will be. He saves everyone with a smile and gives them hope. You'll just be out there bashing the villains with explosions while everyone runs away."

Who the hell does Deku think he is?! He can save people too if he wants! All he needs to do is smile or some dumb shiz like that, right?!

(He smiles to himself in the mirror that night, but when he sees the narrowed eyes and his feral expression, he begrudgingly realizes that yeah, maybe he needs a little more work than he thought)

He's been acting weirder and weirder as the months went by. He's still the same Deku at school but he's not. And after school when he's extra angry and wants to sock the nerd, Deku just dips into an alley, waits for him, and they fight it out. Katsuki lets loose the full extent of his quirk, sweat dripping and explosions flying in cramped quarters. And Deku, like a coward, just side steps, blocks, and won't. shut. up.

He threw out his hand  and exploded the empty space Deku was at not a second before. He barely dodges the kick the nerd sent with an explosion that doubles as a counter, snarling because he knows that the runt is faster than that, he kneeded him in the gut faster than he could blink when he told him to jump off a roof - 

"You always lead with a right hook, Kacchan," Deku mildly pointed out, even as Katuski roared and tried to punch him with his left. "I know you can feint attacks."

He scowled. He reared backed to prep for another punch, but his ankle snagged on something and he fell, and in the next instant he was pinned against the wall by Deku. 

"You pay a lot of attention to your hands."

He screamed and thrashed and cursed, infuriated that a worthless, Quirkless, sniveling coward like Deku got the upper hand!

"I know you can do better than this, Kacchan," He taunted, always looking down on him. "If you want to vent your frustrations, take it out in the gym and not the streets."

He gritted his teeth and slammed his hands against the wall. He activated his quirk and using the force of the propulsion to knock the annoying nerd off of him. He spun around with a right hook that missed, but the round house kick that followed it up barely grazed Deku's face. Deku grinned, hopping back and putting some distance in between them.

"Now that's more like it."

Katsuki yelled out a war cry as he blasted forward.

He's not stupid to what's happening. All his life has been an uphill battle to improve himself, improve his quirk, and prove that he will be the strongest Hero that ever lived, but he's felt his progress stagnate for the past two years. There's just no one to go up against that would sharpen his blade, so he's been stuck seething for the longest time because he just wasn't. getting. stronger. 

Then Deku slams him into the floor the beginning of the school year and all that changes. Suddenly, he becomes a challenge. He becomes someone to beat. He's Quirkless, he's supposed to be weak with barely enough strength to snap a twig, but here he is, playing Katsuki around like a goddang fiddle and leaving him with bruises and a bruised ego. He'd rather choke than admit it out loud though. Every single fight, he points something out. Watch your legs. Hone your anger. Mix up your blasts so that you're more versatile. What's even worse is that he's right. He can feel himself improving under his advice. Because yeah, he's furious and wants to crush that nerd into a pulp, but he's hungry for improvement and the nerd's the best way to do it for now.

But he'll put the status quo back in it's place and shove Deku back where he belongs - at the bottom of the food chain. He'll make him realize he's nothing more than a pebble on Katsuki's path to glory. Deku can look down at him all he wants now, but at the end of the day, it'll Katsuki that'll claim top dog.

He scowled at the empty desk the row behind him next to the window when the bell rings. All the other extras are chatting noisily around him, not even noticing the nerd's absence. No one asks when the teacher dully skips over his name in roll call. He finds his glare shooting around the school, waiting for the nerd to pop up in his periphery. At the rooftop during lunch. With his nose buried in his notebook around the corner. Sobbing in the bathroom, even though that one hasn't happened since the school year began.

But then his desk is empty the next day. And the next. 

He stomps over to Auntie Inko's and bangs as loud as he can on the door, knowing her and the nerd were likely there at this time. 

It doesn't take long for him to hear heavy footsteps. The lock is undone in an instant. Then the door swings open, and Auntie Inko is looking at him in surprise, but everything about this picture screams wrong wrong wrong.

"Katsuki," She breathes. Her smile wanes on her pale face. There are deep bags underneath her eyes and she's restlessly wringing a handkerchief in her hands. When he glances past her, he notices the trashcan is already overflowing with tissues. "W-what brings you here, dear?"

He says nothing for a moment. His hands aren't shaking. They. aren't. "Auntie, where's De - Izuku?" 

And just like that, her smile crumbles. She grabs onto him and he scrambles to hold her up as she falls onto her knees and wails, tears falling like waterfalls. Her blubbering is worse than Deku's.

"What?" He impatiently snaps. "Auntie, I can't understand you! Where's Deku?!"

She sobs and hiccups, but says it once more. 

"I'm sorry, Katsuki," She wails, and the weird feeling in his stomach grew. But then she said the two words he never thought he'd ever hear in this lifetime. The notion was so out there that he never considered them in the first place. So when she finally uttered those dreaded words, his world tipped on its axis and left him drenched in the cold.

"I'm sorry, Katsuki," She repeats, because the reality of the situation hadn't sunk in yet.

"Izuku's missing."

~*~

Inko Midoriya was an anxious, reserved woman with a kind heart and a nervous demeanor. Her rotund figure often had her colleagues and patients compare her to a cute mouse. Always scurrying around the hospital ward to assist patients wherever needed. Kind and welcoming, an angel who can coax even the most ornery of patients into an even temper. A miracle worker. A single mother. Birther of a Quirkless son.  

Only few knew about the steel in her spine and the danger in her gait. They take a look at her and her weak quirk and automatically assume she's harmless. They would've been right, once upon a time, but that was before she found out everything her son endured by society until he was pushed down to villainy. Her son, who shined brighter than the sun and stars, who yearned to be a hero more than anything in the world, had became a villain because there was no one left to support him.

So yeah. That was the slap in the face she needed to wake up. Her baby faced unimaginable horrors and came home a traumatized war veteran than a hopeful fourteen-year-old. All because the world only saw him for his lack of quirk and brutally told him no.

Which is why in this life, she can only hope to protect whatever shred of her baby was left in there. It's more difficult than she's ever imagined, but she's his mother. She won't abandon her baby just because things got tough. Heck, this is when she's needed the most! She's no Hero like the ones on the news, but she'll be one for her son's heart. She'll heal whatever wounds the world has brought if it means seeing that light in his eyes burn ever brighter. She's a nurse and a mother after all. Healing invisible scars is what she does best. 

And she knows there are times she'll strain. Her baby was going to be jumping headfirst into danger because there was no other option to go to. The news of bright blue fire worried her because she's seen and heard tales of an older brother from his villain days, and her Izuku radar was screaming at her to go. Then she received a call from Mei telling her than Izuku was badly hurt and a set of directions into a dark neighborhood where he's been brought to. 

Of course, the inhabitants thought it would be a good idea to try an assault a single woman. But they never faced the wrath of a worried mother on a warpath. And she knows that a certain organ down there registers as an object small enough for Pull to yank. 

Needless to say, a lot of lineages ended that night. 

She took comfort in knowing that at the very least, all of this vigilante business was about to end. He started it to save all his friends, and save them he has. It came with a few. . . multiple heart attacks in fact (why does her baby insist on setting things on fire with Dabi? Just what did the world do to her poor baby?!). At least he'll be stuck in bed for the next two months recovering. Yes, it's completely selfish of her to be thankful for her son getting injured, but at least he can finally slow down and take a break. She knows he's survived society collapsing and an apocalypse, but for Kami's sake, that's not an excuse for him to keep patrolling after being stabbed! She just wants him to practice some restraint. Just a little. A lot. 

She sighed.

At least they're almost done with his vigilante checklist. There's just one more person left to save. The biggest operation left to date.

They needed to save a little girl that is her son's little sister. 

They planned out the logistics a long time ago, back when her son told her he was a time traveler. She has a foster license ready to be used. There's a pair of quirk suppressant bracelets in pink and reds with cute bunny charms in his room. She's budgeted for another child and they both picked furniture and toys and clothes that she would like, because by Kami, she is going to love this child like her own and shower her with all the affection she deserves and more. Yes, she hasn't met this kid, but she has zero doubt that she'll fit in with the family with the fond way Izuku talks about her. They'll be able to do it. Together.

Which is why this will be the hardest thing she'll ever face.

Her phone rang while she restocked the crash cart. She ducked into the employee lounge and fished it out of her pocket, answering, "Hello? This is Inko Midoriya speaking!"

"Midoriya-san," The gruff, but not unkind voice of her supervisor said. "There's . . . a couple of officers looking for you."

Her stomach dropped. "O-oh? Did they say what they're here for? There hasn't been any incidents in the hospital recently, is there?"

"No, it's uh . . . It's about your son."

Her stomach plummeted straight into an abyss. 

"They're in Lounge C. Talk to me afterwards, alright? I can clear you for the rest of the day."

"Th-thank you," She numbly responded. "I-I'll be up s-soon then."

She hung up. She stared at her reflection in the black screen silently. She drew in a shuttering breath and closed her eyes, sending up a prayer for her son before moving. Her coworkers immediately picked up something was wrong and gave her a wide berth, as dictated by their strained relationship as a good worker but mother of a Quirkless child. 

Good for her, because the people that stuck by were the genuine ones. 

She knocked on the door and slid it open. Two officers were there. One with a cat mutation, and another in a tan coat and a tired, but kind face.

"Midoriya-san," The man with the tan coat greeted. "Please, take a seat. I'm Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi and this is my partner."

"Officer Sansa Tamakawa, at your service madam," The other gently smiled, although strained. 

"It's nice to meet both you," She congenially replied, sitting down on the couch with a strained smile of her own. "Um. . . my supervisor mentioned how you're both here about my s-son?"

A beat of silence passed. Officer Tamakawa's whiskers twitched and the Detective looked pained. 

"I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell this Midoriya-san," The Detective began. "But your son has been kidnapped by criminal group."

Her gut was a chasm now. She felt empty. "Oh. H-how . . . ?"

Officer Tamakawa looked uneasy. "Earlier this morning, your son was passing out flyers for a seminar on Pre-Quirked society and how we may benefit from it, which was being hosted by Professor Izen Ikou this Sunday. He was supposed to be with a group of students, but he somehow managed to get himself separated from his group. The students, upon realizing that he wasn't with them, quickly called his cell but was unable to reach him. They reached out to the Professor instead for advice and he quickly called the police. We got involved and started looking through the cameras, and in one of them we noticed a suspect for one of our other cases approaching the boy before he shortly disappeared."

"But why would - ?!" She chocked. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. "My baby . . . !"

"We think it's because of his Quirkless status, ma'am," The officer answered. "We have reason to believe that the group that took your son is interested in research surrounding Quirkless folks, and was somehow able to find out about your son's circumstances."

"Please, tell me! Do you know what'll happen to him?! They wouldn't - he can't - not him, not Izuku, oh please, Kami, not my son - !" 

"I apologize, ma'am," The Detective tried to soothe. "But we're unclear what condition we'll find your son in. This investigation is already designated as a top priority case and we have many capable Pro Heroes working on it-"

The reality of the situation crashed onto her shoulders. She broke down on that couch and let all of her pain, frustration, misery, and helplessness show. The whole situation was a mess for the past seven months and it hasn't gotten easier. Izuku's kidnapping, his vigilante activities, her son's past as a villain and a survivor - why did it have to be her baby of all people?! Why did the universe decide to hurt her only child just by existing?! Her sweet son only wanted to help people and look at what they've done to him!

She knows the other two are saying their condolences and that they'll give frequent updates of the case as it happens. Like her son's fate has already been decided, as if it hadn't been when he was four and his quirk never came in. 

They left her to mourn her son in peace. At the what-if's and what-could've-been's. Like any mother would after they'd been told their child was taken to most likely be used for a villain's twisted, sick experimentations.

She tried to smile for her son. It was wobbly at best, but it would have to do. 

"Good luck, my baby," She whispered and closed her eyes. "Come back home soon."

~*~

Shouta heard the click on the com before the mechanical voice. 

"Hey there, Eraser!"

He grunted and ducked under a coin, which promptly burst yellow, bubbling sticky goop that landed on the wall behind him. "A little busy here, kid!"

"Right, right, right," Viridian's voice trailed off in a murmur, and distantly, Eraser could hear the click-clacking of a keyboard in the background. If he had the time to think, he'd probably be zeroing in on the fact that the vigilante has been . . . oddly chipper nowadays. And more animated. But as it stands, he's got his hands full at the moment. "Anyways, I found some information about Greenie!" 

"Who?!"

"Oh, the Midori-something kid! Quirkless one? The one who got kidnapped a few days ago by the Yakuza guys?"

"Do you really have to tell me this now?!" He yelled, throwing out his scarf and batting a volley of coins back to his opponent. 

"Of course I do!" The annoyance chirped. Then the typing stopped. "Oh, wait. Are you one of those types who can't fight and talk at the same time?"

"LATER!" He yelled. The woman took out more from her purse - her purse for Kami's sake! - and threw another handful his way. 

"Ahhh, I'll make this quick then!"

"Then hurry it up," He growled, activating his quirk right as her hand reached into her bag. 

"Yeah, so, it turns out that those Birdie guys took Greenie because they want to use his DNA for those bullets of theirs."

He threw a punch and felt the woman's nose crunch underneath his fist. "Are they alright?" 

"Still trying to find that out! But I thought you'd like a little update on the situation!"

Eraserhead heaved as he finally managed to secure the crook with his scarf. He wanted to bash his head in. "Thanks kid."

"Ohohoho, don't mention it!" Viridian chirped right back. "In fact, if you want to help, there's this one particular baby I would love for you to test out - !"

Eraser swiftly ripped the com out of his ear and pocketed it. He groaned.

The woman looked up at him appraisingly for a few moments, still bound in his scarf against the wall. ". . . Was that your son just now?"

He stared at her. Really stared at her. 

The police found her hanging from a light post gagged and utterly sheepish. Tsukauchi looked at Eraserhead nonchalantly leaning against the lamp post in bewilderment. 

He shrugged.

Chapter Text

Thank you to josht1987 for helping me find my way around the substitute swear problem for this fic. It's more fitting for lighter, comedic fics like Lovely, but this is a lot darker and more serious, so saying "shiz" does not do well. 

White walls. White clothes. White bed. The only splash of color in this otherwise bleak room would be his green hair and eyes. He woke up about two minutes ago on the cot he's sitting up in right now, deftly slipping into the role of a confused teenager who has no idea where he is. Internally, however, he's jumping around in joy that his plan had worked. Butter up to Professor Izen Ikou about being a fan of his research into pre-quirk societies, subtly tell him that he's Quirkless, and from there it was it was a matter of simple manipulation before he scheduled for a seminar. He knew Chisaki wouldn't be able to resist a lecture on how a Quirkless society would function better than their Quirked one. Let a few rumors fly that the special guest they mentioned happens to be Quirkless and bam! There you have it. A few meetings with a lackey fishing for information was all he needed to let it slip that he was the Quirkless guest and that he doesn't get treated well by anyone but his mother and dreams of being in a Quirkless society. Then Chisaki comes in the flesh, they have a nice chat, and next thing you know, he gets kidnapped.

Easy.

The Precepts don't have the resources to manage multiple large bases, so they only have one big one and multiple small safehouses on the side. His status as a high priority package automatically ruled out the smaller bases. Which, by process of elimination, means that he's likely been placed in the exact place he needed to be - their main base of operations where Eri is being kept.

He can't wait to tear Chisaki and the rest of them to shreds once he finds her.

It's only a matter of when. There's no real deadline, but he knows his mother would appreciate being able to see him sooner rather than later. She's been worried ever since he told her about this plan, but what else was he supposed to do? Not tell her? He's an ex-supervillain genius mind you, not a heathen.

Well, at least he only has one adult fretting over him. Toga should have fun impersonating him over the coms for Eraserhead. He sincerely hoped she kept the mic away from Mei because her speech pattern is a dead giveaway once she gets into UA.

A knock sounded at his door. Oddly polite considering his status as their prisoner, but okay. It swung open and a familiar face entered the room, prompting him to blink twice rapidly to make sure he got a full view of the guy. He recognized him in an instant. Bleached blonde hair, sanpaku eyes, face and features all sharp edges and straight lines. 

He blinked. "So . . . you're the one that kidnapped me?"

The man gave him a weird look. "You're not scared?"

Izuku made a show of inspecting his limbs and poking his torso. He hummed, turning back to the guy with the most bland tone he could muster. "Meh. Considering I'm not in excruciating pain at the moment, I can safely say you're nicer than everyone I've met except my mother."

The guy's face contorted through a myriad of emotions and Izuku tried to hold in his snickers. He finally settled on a slightly disturbed look, the kind a stranger would give to a mentally disturbed patient, and then leaned away with a grimace. He squinted at him, as if he was trying to see whether or not he should be in the psychiatric ward or not. "Right. Whatever. Get up, the boss wants you."

With all the apathetic nature of any teen who doesn't have a single interest in his own self-preservation, he shrugs. "M'kay. Where are we heading? Are you guys gonna do weird experiments and give me, like, octopus arms or something? That's pretty much the only thing people would kidnap Quirkless kids like me nowadays."

If Izuku struck a nerve with the guy and reminded him about Eri, he certainly didn't show it. He slipped out of bed, and ignored the stinging cold of the harsh cement floor making contact with his bare feet. From the lack of shoes alone, he could already determine they planned on never letting him leave. The cold floor is a smart move though. Cost-effective way of discouraging any movement and therefore chances of escape outside the cell. 

"Here," The man shoved something into his hands. "Put that over your head."

The teen ran a thumb over the material. A black bag made of thick cloth to completely obscure his senses. He clocked it before pulling it over his curls and down past his face, where the rest of the material pooled heavily around his collarbones. He stretched out his arms and started fidgeting with the cloth to make it more comfortable, but all he got for his efforts was a gloved hand clamping down around his neck with a grunt.

"Stop flailing already and move."

The man pushed him forward and he stumbled. He started walking though, guided by the directional pressure on his neck with the complete blackout of his vision. He kept his eyes shut as he mentally drew a map of route he was going towards. The man's loafered shoes made it easy to gauge the shape of the area through his loud footfalls.

Left, right, forward, another turn -

They stopped. A sharp knock, glove on wood.

"Come in," An oddly mild voice answered. Unlike Shigaraki, he didn't sound dry and raspy that belayed a psychotic nature. It wasn't like All For One's deep drawl that struck fear into the marrow of your bones. Chisaki's voice was always plain, young, and with a vibrato that lightly grated on his ears. You wouldn't think he was as disillusioned as Shigaraki, or tried to be as cunning and charismatic as All for One.

Or tore his sister apart to make drugs out of her body.

The door smoothly opened with nary a sound, just like Izuku remembered from his past life. He was pushed inside and stumbled forward a few feet before managing to right himself, and by then the door had closed and the man who brought him here was gone.

"You can take off that hood now."

Izuku wasted no time and promptly ripped that thing off his head. He overexaggerated his flinch at the sudden light blinding his eyes, blinking rapidly before trying to take stock of his surroundings. 

Muted green walls. Concrete floor. Shelf. Desk. Two chairs. One plush, business-like one behind the desk were Chisaki sat in.

So they were in Overhaul's office. Huh. Same place where Izuku killed him the last time. 

Chisaki gestured towards the seat across him and politely said, "Please, sit."

Izuku ran his tongue over one of his molars, checking to see if the little bump was still there, before complying to his offer. It oddly felt like a principal about to speak to a student about a misdemeanor, except punishment can range anywhere between having no food for a day to instant death.

It was quiet for a moment between them. Chisaki seemed content to let his prisoner sweat out the silence. He wanted Izuku to make the first move and gauge his reaction.

Alright then, Chisaki. Let's play.

Izuku tilted his head and kept his face perfectly impassive. "So, you're the one that kidnapped me."

Chisaki's eye twitched. "You seem quite comfortable here, young man."

If Izuku had ten yen every time he heard that statement, he'd have twenty. He shrugged, crossing his arms and fiddling with the hem of his shirt sleeve. "I haven't found any of my limbs missing and I'm not dressed in rags. Plus you gave me a comfortable bed to sleep on and the room you have me in is clean."

Chisaki kept his silence. What? Is it really bad to be thankful for being treated decently and not like an actual prisoner?

Self-preservation instincts of a lemming notwithstanding, Izuku smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Can you explain to me why I'm here? It's not that I'm not thankful for your hospitality or anything, but I am curious as to what use I have to you."

"Why don't you tell me?" The two-bit mafia boss easily countered, undeterred by his prisoner's odd behavior. "You seemed like quite the intelligent young man from our previous interaction. And it's not every day a third year junior high student such as yourself becomes a guest speaker at a college lecture."

A test. A challenge. And a threat.

To see how he reacts. A gauge to see his intelligence. And a warning that Chisaki can get enough information to track down those close to him.

"I'm flattered," Izuku bowed slightly, sincerely and not mocking. Though a little petty part of him wants to telegraph it to be. "But I admit that I am a little lost. As you're most likely aware, sir, I'm Quirkless. I'm the child of a single mother living in a middle-class apartment. I don't have any powers, or funds, or connections that would be beneficial to you in any way."

The edges of his eyes crinkled. "I wouldn't be so quick as to dismiss you, child. You possess a very unique power that few of your generation are worthy enough to hold."

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. "But I don't have any powers."

The man sighed. "Good grief. You poor thing. Have you forgotten how that bully of yours treated you once he had his quirk and you didn't? Have you ever wondered what would it be like if his quirk never came in, the same as you?"

"Not really," He evenly replied. Chisaki lifted an eyebrow, calling out on his lie. The teen pouted and glanced away. "Maybe once or twice," He muttered.

"And what did that reality look like?"

"I guess he was. . ." Izuku trailed off, trying to make it look like he was bitter and nostalgic all at once. Which he was, but that was beside the point. ". . . Nicer. We would have been brothers fighting the system together. We would both be bullied no matter where we were, sure, but at least we would have each other's backs. We could've been great, but that isn't what happened. I can't wish for something that will never come true."

"Tragic," The man sympathetically replied. "If it wasn't for how this society viewed quirks, you would have a wonderful relationship with your brother. But instead, this quirked world turned him against you as your worst tormentor. Aren't you angry? Don't you want to retaliate and change this world, even a little?"

Been there. Done that. Got the trauma to prove it as a souvenir. 

His face hardened, as if he was trying to hold himself off from hoping. "But it's a pipe dream for someone like me. That will never happen. It's not like quirks can just disappear."

He let a beat pass. Come on, Chisaki, he inwardly sneered. I laid out the perfect bait for you to take.

"Perhaps," He answered. Izuku clocked the vague non-answer. Does this mean the quirk-erasing drugs haven't been fully developed yet? Experimentation on Eri should be well underway at this point. Their version of Trigger hit the market by the next month last time, and by then, creation for the experimental anti-quirk drug should be completed. Chisaki would be foaming at the mouth to foreshadow its existence. So why is he - ?

"How do you find your accommodations thus far?" The man politely inquired. "I do apologize for the lack of décor in your room. We weren't certain what you would prefer, so it was decided that it would be better to wait until you arrived to choose it yourself. I can send one of my men later to show you a catalogue."

"Oh, that's. . . kind of you," He tilted his head in what seemed like confusion. "I apologize if I'm coming off as a bit rude, but I can't say that I expected this? I mean, most people would beat me to the ground before they'd-"

He held up a hand and Izuku's mouth clicked shut. "It's alright, young man. I understand that being in a new situation can be quite challenging. You can go back to your room and rest for the remainder of the day, if you so desire. I can send one of my men to fetch you a meal later."

"Oh. Alright," He bowed. "Thank you for your kindness, sir."

"It's not an issue. I enjoyed our time, and I hope to see you soon."

He nodded. "Alright. I'll see you soon, sir."

Bag back on his head as he trotted back to his room. An intercom installed into the wall to call whoever was on duty if he needed anything, which would be their first mistake once he turns it into a makeshift bomb.

He flopped down on the cot and let out a long, weary sigh. And now for the wait.

~*~

A man walks briskly through the halls, beady eyes scanning across the corridor and bleach blonde hair slicked to the side with gel. The thick soles of his loafers clacking against the floor sent echoes across the near-empty corridors. He held a tray of the prisoner's meal in his hands. Some traditional Japanese meal thing with grilled saury, rice, pickled vegetables, miso soup, the works. Fancy shmancy for a captive.

He rapped his knuckles against the door and didn't bother waiting for a response before barging right in. The green-haired kid was on the bed, dressed in a pale yellow shirt that ironically said "pajamas" and navy shorts, reading. The sheets of the cot were a deep sea green and a couple of bunny plushies lined the headboard. A shelf was installed on the wall over the bed, filled to the brim with books. There was a student's desk to the left of the bed, with a textbook on Japan's history cracked open and an notebook beside it. Again. For someone supposedly being held here against their will, they looked oddly at home.

The kid looked up when the man entered the room. "Oh. You're here again today too. Here, let me get that for you."

He slid a bookmark into his fiction novel and left it on the bed, hopping of the cot and racing up to him. He took the tray in both hands and politely said, "Thank you for the meal, sir."

His face scrunched up. He sighed, scratching his head and cocking a hip, foot tapping incessantly on the floor. "It's whatever, kid. You've clearly adjusted to your new lifestyle, eh?"

He blinked thrice and tilted his head to the left. "It was . . . kind of a shock at first, but it's been a while now so I'm getting used to it. I kinda wish I had more people to interact with though. So far it's just you and the boss."

He grunted. "Can't do nothing about that. Not unless I want my head to go flying."

The boy hummed and nodded. "That would be an issue. I guess I should ask Chisaki-san tomorrow during our daily meetings if I can meet more people myself, then. He's pretty nice and knows how to take care of his people well. I can see why you call him your boss."

"He's the best in the biz," He grunted. "Need anything else?"

"Well. . ." He trailed off, looking away and suddenly seeming a lot more tired. "I just wish I knew how my mother was doing."

"How the hell am I supposed to know that? She could be sobbing to her friends about her missing son," He clicked his tongue and scratched his head. "Alright, I'm going. Don't have time to be looking after some snot-nosed brat, stupid coppers," He grumbled.

"Well, I wish you luck with them."

The man rolled his eyes and closed the door before walking back down the hall. He greeted the other members of the organization before stopping at the changing room and grabbing his things.

"Yo, Recruiter!"

A sleazy man slung his arm around his shoulders. He growled. "Screw off."

"Now, now," The other chided. "You may be in the boss's favor because of that Quirkless kid you picked up, but you start slacking on nabbing more members and it don't matter if the boss likes ya or not."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm heading out," He flippantly grumbled. "See ya."

The man left the building and made his way to a seedy district, but not as seedy as the last one he stayed in. He headed over to an empty graveyard of old warehouses. He didn't hesitate to duck inside one of them, carefully picking his way through the traps, until he found the secret passageway that led into the hidden basement. He stopped in front of a heavy blast door. He knocked and dragged his hand in an overly complicated movement before banging his knee against the door in what seemed like an accident.

The door swung open and a pink-haired girl beamed up at him. "You're back!"

He giggled. "Was there ever any doubt, Meichan?"

He skipped inside and closed the door tightly behind him. His form wavered. His features melted away like hot wax and dripped to the floor in a thick grey sludge.

Himiko Toga stood there, fully naked, before Meichan tossed her a towel and some clothes to get dressed in.

"Thank you ~ !" Himiko winked, skipping inside the workshop. She reached underneath her clothes and pulled out a the chain. She had it on before her transformation wore off, and it was designed to look like something a gangster to wear. Though it would be much prettier if it had blood splattered on it. She tossed it over to Meichan and brightly sang, "Catch!"

The other girl screamed and dived for the clunky piece of jewelry before it hit the ground. "My baby! Himichan, you need to be more careful with the storing device! How else am I going to get the info Greenie is sending over?"

She worked fast, scrambling over to a nearby shelf and pulled out a huge, blast-proof metal box from the bottom. She popped open the latch and pulled out another case, setting it on on her lap and opening up that one too. The laptop inside the briefcase booted up in an instant. Meichan quickly bypassed the security protocols and pulled up a marked calendar and another program Izu-chan made himself. She popped open the clasp and grabbed a few wires before connecting the necklace to the computer.

Himiko plunked down on the spinny chair next to her and leaned over her shoulder to look. "Ooh, whatcha got there, Meichan?"

"Hmmm," Meichan responded noncommittally as she flicked through stuff. Pictures, pictures, more pictures, some paper thingies that the necklace remotely extracted from wandering around the base. She didn't really understand it. The brainiac stuff can go to Meichan and Izukkun.

"The camera contact lenses are working well," She muttered, gesturing at a fairly clear image of some important-looking documents on some guy's desk. "They weren't irritating his eyes when you met him, right?"

"I looked for all the signs you told me to find and found absolutely none of them!" She crowed.

She nodded, fingers flying across the keyboard clickety-clack. "Great! The tracker in his tooth is doing its job. We have a direct path to him in case he needs an extraction, but there's not much else in terms of mapping the base?"

She pouted and kicked her feet. "He can't get out of the room much. The only time he goes out is to see that jerk Overhaul. I want him to be red, red, red for what he's doing to little Erichan!"

"Don't maim him too much, Himichan," Meichan warned, going through another round of files Izukkun sent over. "We'll be handing him over to the police and make him suffer for the rest of his miserable existence. You know Greenie isn't going to let him rest easy."

"Fine!" She harrumphed. "How's making my suit going?"

"Ooh!" She perked up, pausing in her work to run over to the fridge. She took something out and grandly brandished a vial of clear liquid. "Greenie and I are working on a formula to make sure your vigilante suit won't melt off when you transform back! He says he knows that you don't really care about being nude, but you do need the protection and wearing absolutely nothing won't work. We were almost done when he had to leave on that super secret undercover mission to rescue Eri! I just gotta replicate this a few more times, crystalize it into thread, and then I can weave it into the fabric of your suit!"

Her nose wrinkled. "Well, I hope so anyways. All that biochemistry and tailoring stuff is Greenie's area and not mine. Do you know how to sew? Please tell me you know how to sew."

"Ehhh, I know a little," She swung her feet. "But Dabi's a real pro at it. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"In the other room," Meimei vaguely waved to the left.

"Thank you~!" She grinned, skipping over to the door on the far end of the room. She opened the door and slipped in, closing it swiftly behind her.

The man tied to the chair snapped his eyes to her the moment she came in, dark orbs pinpricks against the white. He whimpered and struggled against his restraints, artificially blonde hair flapping funnily as he threw his head back and twisted it away. Dabi had his back turned to the scene and was fiddling with something on the kitchenette's counter in the back. He growled and snapped, "Shut up before I burn your face off!"

Himiko bounced up to him and yelled, "Dabi!"

Her scarred companion turned around and scowled down at her. "Brat," He roughly greeted. He held up a small vial. "Here."

"Thanks Dabi!" She hummed happily to herself as she skipped over and swiped the tube, holding it up to the meager lightbulb in the room, admiring the way the dark liquid flashed a brilliant vermillion in the light. "Ooh, pretty! It'd be even prettier if he was coated with it instead!"

The sobs and thrashing grew worse.

"Pipe down already!" Dabi roared, sending a burst of flame in his direction. The man let out a scream behind his tape sealing his mouth shut and clenched his eyes shut. The sapphire fire dissipated before it could reach him, but his skin reddened in some places from the close contact. He sobbed in relief from not being burnt to a crisp. Dabi leaned back against the counter and clicked his tongue. He made quick work of untying the guy from the chair and chaining him back up to the post on the bed.

They exited the room together where Meichan was at her workbench, throwing them a glance. "How is the guy?"

"Aww, are you worried about him Meichan?" Himiko sang, skipping up to her and glomping her with a hug. She giggled. "Don't worry! He's okie dokie lemon posie!"

"What the hell does that even mean?" Her scarred friend sneered.

"He's perfectly fine!" She chirped right back. She patted Meichan's head. "Don't worry about him, MeiMei! Dabi and I promised you that we won't hurt him, and we don't! He just cries a lot whenever he's awake."

She hummed, going back to her computer. "Okay. I have sandwiches and juice for him in the fridge for his next feeding time."

Dabi grunted, saying that he heard. He plodded over to the couch and plunked down on it. "So," He drawled. "What did the brat have for us? He find that tiny kid yet?"

"Nope!" She chirped again, bouncing over to him. She remembered all the times he shifted his weight, blinked, and the other stuff before running it through her mental decoder. It was a secret way they could communicate without anyone noticing anyone off. Just like spies do! "He's having trouble finding Eri, but he established contact with Overhaul and is on his good side. He said that there hasn't been any mentions about making any drugs, which was weird and needs looking into. So we're stuck waiting until he can figure it out. Oh! And he says hi to everyone!"

"What about Greenie's status?" Meichan inquired, still a little worried.

"Healthy! He gets three meals a day, taken out for exercise and a medical examination in the afternoon, and has daily contact with Overhaul and me!" She grinned. Then frowned. "But they're taking a lot of samples of his blood. Izu-chan says they want to study his DNA because he's Quirkless, but I heard that they were planning to make drugs from them too. They aren't taking too much though! They're treating him really nicely!"

"That fits in with Greenie's predictions," Meichan mused. "Overhaul likes him because he's Quirkless, so he'll be treated as a rare pet than a test subject like Eri. Still, I didn't like how there was still a strong possibility he'd go through the same things that Eri's going through now."

"Yup! I made sure to keep a close eye on him to make sure he's alright for Mama Inko!"

"I still can't believe that brat's mother supports all of this," Dabi gripped.

"Well," Meichan grabbed a fuse, going back to the machine she was working on before Himiko came in. "He's survived a Nomu Apocalypse, and before then he worked as a villain-vigilante. Did you see his track record the first week he went out vigilante-ing? He took out a drug ring, hacked the police station, solved cold cases of multiple hero agencies, and obliterated gangs left and right all over Musutafu on his own! I mean, haven't you guys noticed how quiet the streets are lately?"

"Oh," Himiko tilted her head, bring her hand up to her mouth. "So that's why I've found more victims in the past month!"

Dabi snorted and rolled his eyes. "Hey, inventor chick. What's the agenda for tonight?"

"Oh, right! Here!" She tossed something at him and he deftly caught it. He unfurled his palm and lifted a slightly-charred eyebrow. "Another info drop? Couldn't the green brat just, I dunno, create a program that dumps this automatically into the cop's system?"

"Can't do that! Too easy to track!" Meichan waved him off. "Plus, there's some sensitive info in there about some corrupt Hero working with a new gang to smuggle support items. They have someone with a technoquirk on their team that can track the information on that USB if we sent it wirelessly!"

The scarred man grumbled an unintelligible response. "Fine. Whatever."

"Don't forget your com!"

"Ooh! Can you bring back some of those yummy bean buns too?!"

He sent her a flat glare. "You want me to walk into a convenience store looking like this?"

He gestured to his entire body.

She blinked. "I don't see what's wrong!" 

He groaned and shoved his face into his hand. "Just - forget it. Grab it yourself."

He huffed and walked out the base, shoving the thumb drive into the pocket of his coat. He pulled the hood up and fixed the medical mask on his face. If anyone were to look, he'd be the right kind of shady back alley dealer you'd immediately call the cops on for doing nothing but just existing. 

Then again, his entire existence was just that - one big freaking problem. From the moment he was born to the moment his Quirk manifested and proved too strong for his body to handle, then to Shouto's fourth birthday-turned-nightmare and the Commission and burning and running and Keigo - 

He stopped and shoved himself up against a wall. He took in a deep, shuttering breath and closed his eyes. 

Ugh. He hates doing these runs.

He pushes himself off and stalks through the back alleys. He finally reached his destination soon enough - a decrepit, old office building crumbling at the edges, long since deemed for demolishing but never got around to getting that scheduled. He leaned against the wall of the rooftop access and gazed up at the night sky. No stars tonight. All blotted out by the ridiculously shiny city that blinded the scenery above.

"Dabi."

He lazily looked over. "Eraser."

If he didn't know any better, the teen would've thought the guy was a muscular-looking hobo. But no. He's heard enough tales from Viridian to know the guy was. . . somewhat trustworthy for a Hero.

The Pro Hero grunted in acknowledgement. "Any updates on the cats? Especially the new one."

Dabi scoffed. Information on Eri and Viridian's civilian counterpart. Pink Hair warned him about this. Coded convos like this were used in civilian settings to exchange info without tipping off any curious individuals and rousing suspicion, but they it's not like they could blend in with everyday life. He's a scruffy Pro Hero hobo. And Dabi's an unruly punk teen with scars all over his face and body. There was no way their meet up can be anything but conspicuous, so the point of talking in code was to limit the amount of information being leaked in case of eavesdroppers. 

"The one they had originally is still hiding somewhere and won't come out," He shrugged. "The second is being well taken care of, last I heard. Seems to be in good health at least." 

No info on Eri, but the Midoriya kid is alright and will continue to be in the near future.

Eraserhead nodded. "I see. And the caretaker?"

How is Viridian?

"Getting there. It's hard to take care of one cat, let alone the new one." 

Still resting, gonna be a delay gathering info because of the new kid that got mixed in with all this.

"Have anything for me?"

Dabi side eyed him. He smirked. "And for the brat?"

The Hero shrugged. "My cats are just fine. Still settling in, but they seem to be comfortable."

I'm taking good care of Hitoshi Shinsou and Shouto Todoroki. They're wary, but opening up. 

An age old pain tugged at his heartstrings. Dabi fished out the thumb drive from his pockets and tossed it to the old man, who deftly caught it with one hand. "Got another bad apple in that orchard of yours. Been attracting crows."

This info is on another corrupt Hero in the Commission's pocket. Don't engage. Store it for the future.

Eraser kept his face blank, but Dabi could sense his frustration underneath that apathetic look. "Anything else?" He pointedly asked.

Dabi shrugged once more and pushed himself off the small building, making his way to the stairs. "Nah. We're good old man. I'll catch ya later when there's more to talk about."

"One more thing."

He paused. He threw his head back and glanced at him to show that he was waiting.

Eraserhead stood there on the rooftop, arms crossed, capture scarf draped loosely around his shoulders. "You kids can come to me if you need anything. Got it?"

Dabi fell silent. 

He walked away without another word.

Chapter Text

I FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO ADD IMAGES, HOLY SHIZNIT I'M AN IDIOT!!! Thank you to Neecla for this amazing comic short after they pointed out that Izuku was basically a rabid goose. They are feral, territorial, overprotective creatures that will not hesitate to go for the eyes if you so much as look at their babies wrong, and Eri is Izuku's child/sister. 

It took one week for Deku to find the secret "component" of the quirk-erasing drugs. 

He, Toga, and Twice were sent to infiltrate the Eight Precepts base. Of course, they were invited in as per their "partnership" agreement, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Overhaul just wanted to takeover the League and it's vast resources for himself. He was arrogant for wanting to get his greedy hands on Sensei's legacy, the last remainder of the man who took them in. Normally they would obliterate Overhaul. 

But he had an interesting little project going on behind the scenes - quirk erasing bullets. There was no denying the limitless potential a drug like this holds, so the League played along with their little "partnership" to discover what made those drugs tick. So they sent the best team of infiltrators and their master strategist at their disposal.

Still, Overhaul was a precautious and overly paranoid man, so the secret of the drug's creation was jealously guarded. The only thing they found out was that the main component was DNA from a willing donor somewhere in the base. The individual in question was no where to be found, and the only progress they've made was dubbing the individual as Patient X.

He found out Patient X's identity when he was off duty laughably enough. He was just picking up groceries and casually strolling down the sidewalk to the warp point where Kurogiri can get him, when all of a sudden a white blur shot out of the alleyway and slammed right into his legs. If he was still his weak, Middle Schooler self, he would've been knocked flat on the ground. As it was, Mikumo Akatani barely stumbled, only halting and looking down at the small child curiously.

He took one look at the bandages and her fearful, bedraggled appearance before immediately crouching down. 

He softened his expression and said, "Hey there, I'm Akatani. What's your name?"

"E-E-Eri," she chocked out, whipping her head around and looking back down the alleyway she came out of. "Mister! You have to help me! There's a mean bird man that's going to - !"

"Eri, where are-?"

A figure rounded the corner and paused. 

Mikumo's heart pounded. He was out of costume right now, so he wasn't wearing the mask and voice changer commonly associated with the League's elusive strategist, Deku. Overhaul wouldn't recognize his civilian form. He can't recognize his civilian form. Mikumo Akatani is just a normal teen in UA's GenEd course, and if Overhaul managed to connect his villain and civilian identities, then it'll spell disaster for their plans. 

He needs to play this right. 

"Ah, I see you've found my daughter," Overhaul pleasantly began, coolly observing him with beady eyes. "Naughty girl. I do apologize for whatever trouble she's caused you, young man."

". . . Not at all," He responded, playing the role of a suspicious, tense civilian. He gave a terse smile to showcase the very real nerves piling up. Albeit for a different reason than he would expect. "She looks pretty hurt though. I can take her to the hospital to get healed, especially with those nasty-looking scrapes on her bare feet."

"Oho, you don't have to concern yourself with that," Overhaul's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I can take care of it myself. Eri, hurry up now. You wouldn't want to bother the nice young man any more than you already are, would you?"

Every single one of Mikumo's senses set off. He bit back a growl. This man was threatening her into complying by using a civilian's life. She trembled, gripping tightly on his jeans, torn between staying and letting him go. 

"Eri," Overhaul pressed, his tone harsher.

The girl soundlessly let him go. Her arms flopped limply to her sides and turned her carefully blank face back to Overhaul, obediently trotting over and slipping her hand into his awaiting one. It took all of Mikumo's willpower to not rush over and snatch her away, but he knew Overhaul would catch him with his quirk long before he escaped the alley. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't get himself recklessly killed without guaranteeing her freedom.

"Good girl," The man nodded. "Well, we'll be going now. Have a good day young man. It would be a shame if you were hurt on your way home."

"Y-yeah," He tersely answered, willing a stutter. He picked up his groceries and pretended to stumble away, easily melding back into the hustle and bustle of ordinary life. 

He waited until he warped into the warehouse before making a beeline to his workstation. A sick fear coiled in his stomach. He had a hunch. He prayed to everything above that he was wrong about this.  He took out a section of Eri's bloody bandages he managed to snag before running a DNA test between this sample and the one obtained from the bullets.

He recoiled and sucked in a sharp breath. Magne stood next to him in worry, gently asking, "Is everything alright, hun?"

Mikumo looked at the report in his hand. He crumpled the paper in his fist and snarled. 

"Call the rest of the League," He ordered. "I know who Patient X is."

~*~

Izuku Midoriya was a patient person. For all his eagerness to learn and chase Hero fights as a child, his time as a villain was filled with careful contemplation. When you have plans to take down Hero Society, you often find yourself playing the waiting game more often than not. It certainly didn't help that his plans were convoluted and took a while to come into fruition. In fact, his plan to take down UA had him infiltrate the campus for two whole years.

So yeah. He specializes in strategies that require a delicate touch. Perfect mixture of spy and manipulator. His Quirkless status made him out as an easy victim than a perpetrator. After all, who would expect that the little bunny the Eight Precepts took in was a venomous spider? It'll be too late by the time they realize the web they've meandered into. They could only watch as their inevitable doom looms over them before striking.

That said, Izuku was ready to screw waiting, kick down the door, nab Eri, and high tail it outta here while screaming EFF YOU, YOU GODDANG HOMEWRECKING, AVIAN FLU-CARRYING, PEDOPHILLIC DODO BIRD! It doesn't matter if he's forty feet underground with an entire den of Yakuza to go through. It didn't matter if Overhaul can tear him to shreds with a mere touch. He's been so. incredibly. patient. It's been a month and he's gotten no where closer to finding Eri than he was on day freaking one! Okay, fine, he managed to gather all the last bits of information he needed to put down the Precepts for good, but he needs to find Eri. The base is a maze with far too many places to escape from. It would child's play for Chisaki to flee with Eri while he's stuck looking for her like a headless chicken. Not to mention if a single Yakuza member escapes and spills that a little girl with no legal identity and a powerful healing quirk that can create quirk-erasing drugs, the whole entire Underworld will be after her. Or worse - the Hero Public Safety Commission. This is a very delicate operation, and he needed to ensure that every single member of the Yakuza can not escape. 

It was necessary to protect Eri. He promised his little sister that he'd rescue her from this freak show and bring her back home. He promised to himself that she'd finally get to grow up as a normal girl and not one that's slaughtered multiple Nomu since she was nine. She'll never become that teenager that watched as her family fell, one by one, just to protect the others. She'll never wear the mementos - Uraraka's jacket, Shinsou and Toga's knives, Dabi's gloves, Katsuki's grenade belt, Mei's goggles - 

Never. Again.

Which is why he's doing his best to remain seated across from Chisaki and not use that ruler on his desk to gouge out his eyes.

It was their usual afternoon meeting. Same time, same place, same tray of tea and snacks after being drained of a liter of blood. The only deviation was the person standing off to the side in the room. Black plague mask, black bowler hat, black body cloak - ah, yes. Shin Nemoto, quirk: Confession. Forces the target to answer any question that the user asks truthfully, making him an invaluable member of the Yakuza. He can confirm loyalties, interrogate foes, and utilize the information he obtains to psychologically break down his opponents until they're a sobbing mess in a puddle of their own bile and sweat. 

Izuku took a sip of his tea. Ugh, green tea again. Couldn't they at least switch it up with jasmine or something? That seems old-school enough for traditionalists like Chisaki. 

"Izuku," Chisaki casually greeted, every inch the image of relaxation. 

Well, if you happened to ignore the overwhelming tension in the room that is. 

"It's a pleasure as always to see you once again," He amicably continued.

"You too," The teen evenly replied, taking another sip of his tea. "So, who's your shadow? It would be rude of me to keep referring to him as such."

Chisaki's eye twitched.

Oh, if Dabi could see him now. He'd be so proud of what a cheeky little brat he raised. There's a fine line between being polite and being a brat, and Izuku is tap dancing all over it. Yes, he's well aware how much of an unnecessary risk this is, but come on. He is this close to lobbing off Chisaki's hands with the leg of his chair. This close. If it wasn't for finding Eri, he'd have marched in here and stick a gun in that slimy two-faced jerkwad's mouth before blowing his brains out. So please hold off on the criticisms before Izuku rips someone's tongue out. He'll keep his passive-aggressive stance with a splash of sardonic so he doesn't snap and go on a murder spree, thank you very much. 

Ha. And people called Shigaraki unstable. 

"This is my colleague, Shin Nemoto," Chisaki - the cowardly witch - pleasantly introduced. "I recall in our last meeting that you wanted to speak with other people."

Oh, pinning the blame on Izuku and trying to guilt trip him for being rude, hm? Always a classic.

"It's not that I don't find our talks enjoyable, sir," The teen nonchalantly began. He set his cup down on the table and shrugged. "I'm just . . . running low on things to talk about that would interest you. Books can only get me so far, and the guard you send over isn't very chatty. I figure that having another person to speak with could help liven our own conversations up a little."

Pandering and simple redirection. Take the blame but make it seem like it's for their benefit. Easy.

The corner of Chisaki's eye crinkled a little, a telltale sign of him smiling. "Hm. How very considerate of you, young man."

How very suspicious, went unsaid. 

Chisaki leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. Nemoto took that as his cue to move forward. He bowed lightly and affably began, "It's nice to finally meet the young man the boss has been talking about lately. What's your name?"

"Izuku Midoriya." 

The boy blinked. Nemoto jolted and said, "Oh my. How careless of me! I forgot to mention this earlier, but my quirk prompts a response from the person when I speak sometimes. I hope you don't mind."

Oh, so that's the excuse they're going with for this interrogation. They didn't waste any time diving into things, did they?

Izuku waved a hand. "That's okay. It sounds like a pretty fun quirk, actually. You wouldn't have to worry about people ignoring you, and you can strike up a conversation at any time you want."

"Why yes, indeed it is," He replied, easily glossing over the little sympathy bone Izuku threw about spending his short life in isolation. Oh well. Not like he expected much from an ex-conman anyways. "Speaking of talking, do you wish to speak to your mother?"

"Yes," Izuku immediately answered. "Isn't that to be expected, though? I miss her and I want to know if she's doing okay or not. Having her kid up and vanishing isn't exactly an easy thing to go through."

"Do you wish to return to her?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you have any plans to escape?"

"Yup," Izuku plainly answered. He could see their eyes glinting dangerously at the confirmation, waiting for their prey to admit to their wrongdoing. Instead, Izuku just shrugged. "I was suddenly taken without even saying a proper goodbye to my mother. It's only reasonable that I want to see her again, but I'm not stupid. I highly doubt I'd be able to escape from here. I can daydream about being outside all I want though, can't I?"

Their expressions remained unchanged, but Izuku could see them begrudgingly accept that answer. Alright, good so far.

"You seem to ask a lot of questions about our operations. Tell me, what are trying to find?"

"I want to know how you're creating the quirk-erasing drugs," Izuku smoothly answered, even though he was screaming internally. He just had to go and jinx himself.

"Oh?" Chisaki leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Now that's interesting. I was under the impression that our little prisoner would be blissfully unaware of such a dangerous thing."

Izuku doesn't panic. His face remains as impassive as ever. The only tell that belayed his anxiety was the way his mind whirled with the thousand maps he's created in anticipation of the minefield before him. He just needed to see where the mines are now.

"Who are you working for?"

"Myself."

"Are you affiliated with any Heroes?"

"Just Eraserhead."

"What is your relationship with him?"

"We spoke a couple of times, but he mostly just pesters me to get off the streets since I go out a lot at night and he's a worried mother hen."

He gets a weird look at that admission, but Izuku shrugs. "I'm a kid that lives in a seedier part of town and walks alone at, like, midnight, because I have trouble sleeping. He's a Pro Hero that frequently patrols the area. Of course he's gonna freak out over a kid with no sense of danger wandering the streets."

Technically, it's not a lie. He's got nightmares and paranoia to contend with most nights. He hasn't gotten a decent night's rest since he was fourteen, and even then it was pretty spotty because of the self-deprecating spirals he'd find himself in. And after that, he'd be plotting Hero society's downfall, and then it was struggling to survive a Nomu apocalypse, so . . . yeah. Him and sleep had a very messy relationship and it was not about to go away any time soon. Vigilantism was a perfect way cope with those restless nights. Now if only Eraser would stop silently nagging him to go home, go to the police, or release more info about the "mysterious tragedy" that would take place in a year. Or, more accurately, in a handful of months. 

"Does he know about our organization and operations?"

"He knows about the Yakuza, but I'm not certain how much he knows about what you're doing," Izuku carefully tests out. Again, all true. Izuku may have told the Pro Hero about Eri, but he's left a ton of other info with Mei that is slowly getting leaked over to Eraser. So yes, Izuku has no idea how much of that information has reached Eraser, so therefore he has no idea how much Eraser knows about the Precepts. "The Yakuza in and of itself isn't exactly a secret, and it's not like he'll share information from work with a stranger he's just met."

"How do you know about the drugs?"

"I heard rumors about them on the street, but I didn't know if it was actually true at the time," He simply quipped.

All true. He heard about the drugs from whispers on the street and files of newly-retired Heroes in the Hero Commission's database in his previous life. Ones that he knows for certain did not interact with All for One.

"What do you intend to do with them?"

He snorted. "I'm not handing it over to the Heroes if that's what you're asking, and I can't be any less interested in trying to sell them myself. You can cross destroying them off your list as well."

Again, it's the truth. He's got personal reasons for wanting them however, because as much as he hates himself for it, Izuku really needed those bullets. They were a vital part in his plan to take down Shigaraki at the USJ and end the apocalypse threat once and for all. So unfortunately, that means he can't throw those disgusting things over to Dabi for cremation, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides. 

He'd rather enjoy the look on Chisaki's face when Izuku turns his own weapon against him.

Izuku catches the way Nemoto's fingers start to minutely twitch. "Then what is your interest in the drugs?"

Izuku took a long sip of his tea before answering. He set the cup back down on its saucer with an audible click that reverberated through the heavy silence. "Call it curiosity. Like I said before, I want to see how you did it."

A pause. Izuku let them sweat it out a little longer as their anticipation slowly faded.

". . . that's it?" Nemoto questioned, befuddlement leaking through his voice. 

Izuku bobbed his head in a nod. "Yup."

"So you purposefully persuaded that professor to hold a lecture on Quirkless society and spread rumors that you were Quirkless in order to get kidnapped by us, all for a chance to satiate your curiousity," Chisaki reasonably deduced. Izuku tilted his head and the man chuckled. "Oh come now. You wouldn't expect for me to fall for such a trick? I am well aware that you were the one who orchestrated this. You left quite the trail in your wake."

Izuku huffed. Yeah, a paper trail he left out on purpose, because it would be suspicious if a fourteen-year-old child who was nonchalant about his kidnapping and knew about their project with the drugs could erase every single trace of their scheme to be willingly kidnapped. There's too many coincidences in his kidnapping scheme to not seem like he purposefully set himself up for a kidnapping. He's trying to act like a smart cookie, but a kid who can cover up their tracks is a dangerous cookie, and he can't be that to them. "Guilty as charged."

"Then why do you wish to know?" Nemoto pressed. 

Izuku took another sip of his tea. "I mean, we live in a society that values quirks. Quirkless people like me get brushed under the rug for . . . a lot of things, really. Domestic abuse. Homelessness. Denial of higher educational or job opportunities. Not to mention human trafficking for experimentation or to keep as 'pets,' considering our 'weakened' status. I'm actually one of the luckier ones in comparison, since I have a mother that still loves me and a father that pays child support, even though he's mostly absent. It would've happened eventually. Someone would snap and attempt to make the world more 'equal,' and the only way they saw that happening was to take out the source of the issue - Quirks. Or alternatively, bring back Pre-Quirk society by making everyone Quirkless again. I figured the likeliest way that would happen is by developing a bioweapon that could negate the gene factor that's responsible for a person's quirk. The only thing I didn't expect was for the Yakuza to be the ones behind it, much less someone with a powerful quirk like you, sir. I always imagined it would be a group of Quirkless folks leading a revolution, but this isn't a bad surprise. If anything, I'd say it's a good one. At least there's less limitations and scrutiny to be had as Quirked individuals rather than Quirkless ones." 

"So the reason why you went through all this trouble is just to see how the drugs are being made?" 

"Mhm," Izuku mildly replied, reveling in the disbelief on Nemoto's face. 

It wasn't a lie. He wants to see Eri. He knows the quirk-erasing drugs are made from her. Therefore, stating that he wants to witness the drug's production is true. He just omitted a few details and used the power of substitution and clever word play to make his answer seem entirely harmless. Nemoto's quirk may be able to prompt honest answers out of Izuku, but he can't force the exact truth out of him. As long as he's objectively telling the truth, then he can dress it up however the hell he wants without revealing his true intentions for being here.

Ha. Duped by their own quirk. For a bunch of people that preach the second coming of Quirkless society, they sure are reliant on their own quirks to get the job done.

". . . Has anyone told you that you're a very strange child?"

"Only ever since I was diagnosed Quirkless when I was five," He answered, internally laughing as their shoulders sagged just a little bit further.

"And what do you intend to do after you've obtained that information?" Nemoto desperately grasped. 

"Nothing," Izuku blandly countered. "I came here to see the creation of the quirk-erasing drugs. Though, I understand if I'll be denied, considering the production will likely be a closely guarded secret, and I'm just a stranger with nothing to offer."

"Hm," Chisaki seemed contemplative for a moment. "I see. Well, I'm afraid you'll have to be disappointed with what you'll find."

Izuku sighed. "Oh well. It was worth a try."

"Oh, no, I believe you're mistaken," Chisaki chuckled. "In fact, I believe we would have made an arrangement beneficial to both parties."

The teen's brow furrowed. ". . . What do you mean?"

Chisaki's dark orbs bored into his own. He sighed. "Well, you see. . ."

The next few words were vaguely cryptic. To anyone else, those handful of words had no reason to raise suspicion. 

But all Izuku could see when Chisaki finished was red.

Chapter Text

"This is Team Beta, in position."

"Roger, this is Alpha. B-EHD, are any of the little 'helpers' here?"

". . . I don't see them," Eraserheard murmured, warily looking over the rooftops. "But our intel hinted that they would be present."

"Are we to arrest them?"

"Consider it a secondary objective. Prioritize securing the targets apprehending the members."

"Shouldn't we be focusing on their capture too?" Mr. Brave inquired, foot tapping anxiously against the ground. "I mean, this could be our only chance to take down two highly elusive, high-profile targets. Who knows when we'll get another one!"

Murmured agreements rippled through the com link. He could feel the heated, weighty gaze of Nighteye drilling into the back of his head. Smug sonuvagun. Eraserhead resisted the urge to groan once more. It was becoming a common theme at this point, ever since he was forced to reveal that the identity of their information broker during the debriefing. He would've preferred not to, but his hand was forced because of how outlandish the idea of a quirk-destroying drug was, much less about a girl who can make them without any record of her in the databases. Viridian may be illegal, but his reputation for obtaining reliable information was hard to crack.

It was fun to watch Nighteye seethe though. He's been monitoring the Precepts for the past year, and yet someone, a vigilante no less, managed to upstage him in the span of three months with an oversized binder. And this was considering that Sir Nighteye was a Hero that specialized in information. Nighteye may be a respected Hero in the Underground, but Eraser never liked that smug gleam in his eye. He'll admit that he's one of the good ones though.

Eraserhead huffed. He clicked back onto the com, stating, "For the sake of the mission, I hope you all remember what's at stake here. The SH are enough to deal with, especially those at the top. There are civilian lives at stake here, and it's unclear what state we'll find them in. Any second we waste fighting is another second they're in danger. It's illogical to favor the apprehension of two 'highly elusive targets' with a half-baked plan concocted on a whim. This is a rescue and takedown op. Not a wild goose chase for the sake of more prestige."

Bzzt. Click.

"Awwwww, I knew I liked you for a reason, Eraser!"

"What the hell?"

"Who is that?! Identify yourself!"

Eraserhead resisted the urge to bash his head into the wall nearby. He sighed and begrudgingly pressed the button on his earpiece, cutting through the confusion with his typical dead tone. "Viridian, The Idiotic Vigilante. Of course you'd show up."

All at once, the coms silenced. A quiet, distorted chuckle echoed out through the link.

"Miss me? I don't appreciate being called an idiot though. That's mean!"

Goddangit. He wanted to sleep. It's been two weeks since the vigilante made a physical reappearance. The three months before that were filled with Viridian hacking into his com link, chatting his ear off about any new movements, and the occasional spiel about support items - of all things - while he fought.

At least they finally confirmed who was behind the support gear.

"Is there anyone else with you?" Tsukauchi. The only person keeping a level head here.

"Oi, you're that stuffy detective, aren't you? The one with the truth quirk?"

" That's Nemoto genius."

"Can it, brat, or I'll light your butt on fire."

"I'd like to see you try, Bacony McBaconface!"

"What the . . ." Rock Lock muttered. Eraser could relate. The man turned his gaze onto the other Underground Hero and grabbed his arm. "Eraser, are these vigilantes kids?!"

The scruffy man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "One of them is. It's hard to tell with the other one because of excessive scarring, but it's assumed he's roughly in his twenties."

His eyes hardened. "We should-"

"No."

Rock Lock glared down at him. Eraserhead stared back, unfazed, already used to a childhood of glares thrown his way. "It's futile to try and stop them. Viridian and his friend were prepared to take on this op alone without informing anyone. If you think they need protecting, then don't. Countless Heroes have been sent to apprehend Viridian, and the only one that's even seen him is me, and that's because he appeared in front of me first. They're good. I can keep an eye on them."

I'm not going to let them die, His eyes silently conveyed to the other man. Rock Lock scowled and begrudgingly relented, if only because they were on a mission.

"So, now that we've cleared everything up," A distorted, annoying voice chirped over the coms. "I hope you're all ready to move, because we've got a little surprise for our guests!"

Eraserhead frowned and said, "Viridian, what are you-?"

"In three! Two! ONE!"

An explosion ripped through the mansion they were watching. Screams erupted from inside the building as panicked orders flooded in through the coms and Eraser resisted the urge to strangle a pair of idiot children.

"We're taking advantage of the chaos and moving in. Go go go!"

Eraserhead shelved his fantasies of stringing up Problem Children with his scarf for later and dashed in with his team. Officers flooded the building to apprehend the low-level grunts that either fought or tried to flee. They ran through the wooden floors until they came upon the small alcove that held the secret passageway, according to Viridian's blueprints. Eraser wasted no time and swiftly found the button on the bottom of the small, blue vase.

Within seconds, the entire section of the wall rumbled and peeled away. One of the officers tossed in a flash grenade and Eraser looked away as it went off. Confused shouts went up from inside the passageway as members began stumbling out, only to be swiftly taken down by the police force.

The others that weren't making any arrests descended down in to the underground base with the other Pro Heroes. Eraserhead grunted as the walls and floor walls warped around them, eliciting cries from the group as everyone scrambled to keep their footing.

"What's happen - ?!"

The floor split open. Policemen and Heroes alike screamed as they were swallowed by the gaping hole, but Eraserhead thought fast. He swiftly sent out his scarf and managed to snag Tsukauchi and Rock Lock, but Fat Gum, Fourth Kind, Mr. Brave, and the other cops slipped out of his hold. He gritted his teeth and flung his scarf over to Nighteye, who had jumped up to stable ground the moment he felt the floor shift, and the intelligence Hero easily caught his scarf and pulled it taught. The crisp man gave a sharp tug and hauled the Detective and two Pro Heroes to safety, slightly battered from their tumble on the concrete floor, but together nevertheless.

"Mimic's quirk," Nighteye silently seethed, warily looking around. "His ability is not supposed to be this strong, so he's likely on Trigger. Rock Lock?"

"Say no more!" The Hero slammed his palm on the nearest wall and pivoted his hand down. Red glowing waves pulsed out of his hand and washed over the concrete surfaces, stabilizing them instantly.

Eraserhead felt a prickle crawling across his back. Years of being an Underground Hero had him whirl around and trigger his quirk, but apparently someone had beat him to the punch.

Fwip!

A pained scream echoed into the corridor as a small disk sparked against the wall. It fizzled out as the shrieks slowly petered off. A man sluggishly emerged from the painted concrete before dropping onto the floor bonelessly not two meters away from Eraserhead.

Sir Nighteye swiftly surveyed the group and inquired, "Did any of you do this?"

A warbled, electronic chuckle echoed through the hallway. Those who were unfamiliar with the sound froze, but Eraserhead just sighed in annoyance. "Problem Child."

A dark figure flipped down from the somewhere above (a quick glance revealed that there was a hole in the ceiling and rafters beyond that), startling the collective group of Pros and policemen alike. The vigilante sprung back up and grandly opened his arms, like the ringmaster of a circus.

"Good to see you made it everyone!" He chirped. "How are you all doing?"

Sir Nighteye stepped forward and glowered. "This is no time for pleasantries, criminal. Surrender yourself or we will be forced to take action."

The vigilante covered his mouth and giggled. Like a school girl. It's been two weeks since he's been back on the beat and Eraser still couldn't get used to this new development. "Now, now, there's no need to be mean! I just took out one of your enemies for you, free of charge!"

Sir Nighteye glare deepened and he growled, "This isn't a game -"

"Lighten up a little, Nighteye!" Viridian sneered. He placed two fingers on his cheeks and tilted his head. "Aren't you the one who always tells your sidekicks to smile?"

Alright, this is going no where. Eraserhead set a dead stare at the overly hyper vigilante. "Viridian, can you lead us to the captives?"

"Of course, Eraser!" The vigilante clapped his gloved hands together. "I'm so glad you asked!"

"You aren't seriously about to follow this - this criminal are you?" Sir Nighteye questioned.

The scruffy man turned his stare to him that screamed just how much he cared about his opinion. "Viridian knows this base better than we do. The map of the base came from him. We're on time limit, so we can't afford to bicker."

"That's right~!" The vigilante mockingly sang. "Oh, and don't worry about the others that fell! They should be preoccupied with the Eight Bullets right about now, so we've got a mostly clear shot to Chisaki and Chronostasis!"

". . . It can't be that easy," Rock Lock skeptically called out.

Viridian shrugged. "Eh. Most of their defense kinda relied on Mimic splitting you guys up and turning this place into a maze, but since he's out of the game. . ."

"Right," Eraserhead pinched the bridge of his nose. "Say no more. Tsukauchi?"

"Already arrested," The Detective raised one of Mimic's arms, showcasing the quirk-suppressing handcuffs slapped around his wrists. "I'll get this guy back up. You go on ahead."

"Viridian."

"Time to go!" The vigilante crowed, already dashing away. The other three Pro Heroes followed suit, though Nighteye was still disgruntled by having a vigilante take the lead.

"What's the play?" Rock Lock asked.

"Chisaki and Chronostasis likely have the hostage, and are making their escape through one of the many back passages," Viridian explained. "Good news is, they won't kill them because they're a vital ingredient to their quirk erasing bullets! Bad news - Chisaki is likely willing to sacrifice a limb or two, since all he really needs is the DNA."

Rock Lock's facial expression twisted in disgust. "Great."

"I know, right?!" The vigilante chirped, the sarcasm flying right over his head.

Eraser gave him a look. "Kid, you have some serious issues we need to talk about."

"Meh," Viridian shrugged.

"In that case, it would be best if we stick to the original plan," Sir Nighteye interjected. "Eraserhead can use his quirk on Overhaul, though Rock Lock will be the one to rescue the child while I keep Chronostasis occupied. Vigilante, I do hope that you stay out of the way."

"Correction to that plan!" Viridian piped up. "My good buddy Dabi is probs already where they're at, and he's got a really nice fire quirk that'll counter against Chronostasis! He can't hit him with his hair if it keeps getting burnt. So that leaves the four of use to punch Chisaki in the face and rescue the poor child!"

"Are we certain that we can trust this 'Dabi' fellow to take on a high-ranking member of the Eight Precepts on his own?" Nighteye pointedly asked.

"Positive!" Viridian gleefully answered, and though Eraser couldn't see it, he would bet that the idiotic vigilante was grinning underneath that mask. "He torched an entire street and burned down Endeavore's mansion a while back! I think that says enough about his abilities ~ !"

"He won't set this entire base aflame, will he?" Rock Lock tensely inquired.

"Nope!" Viridian sang. "Pretty sure he won't!"

Great. Now Eraserhead has to deal with a budding serial arsonist on top of an already insane vigilante. What did he do to deserve this again? It's because he expelled his entire class this year, isn't it? The universe can't give him a break the one year he could manage it. Ugh. It was a good four months while it lasted.

Viridian put a hand to his ear and tilted his head, likely listening to someone on his hidden earpiece. He straightened back up. "We're almost there! Get -"

He didn't even have time to finish.

Because the world exploded soon after.

~*~

Nothing. Was Going. According. To PLAN.

Overhaul silently seethed as he marched forward. His right hand, Chronostasis, matched his brisk pace with one hand firmly wrapped around that child's arm. All of their aspirations relied on the material that can be extracted from the child's DNA.  They were so close to finally manufacturing a working drug that could eliminate a quirk, albeit temporarily, but with enough time they could ensure that the effects became permanent. Finally. After months of their project being forced to stagnate, their dream of a Quirkless society was finally within reach. 

Except now the Heroes had caught wind of their operation and stormed their base. 

Overhaul snarled as the base shook once more. How infuriating. Just a few more months and they would be able to create their first experimental quirk-erasing drug, but now the project would be put on halt again in order to make their retreat. 

Ah, well, He thought. At least those idiots I recruited can stall the Heroes for a good while. Such a shame that he had to sacrifice such loyal pawns so early in the game. No matter. What's crucial now is that they escape with the child and the research. 

The wall beside him imploded. 

Overhaul instinctively rose his arms to protect his face, chunks of concrete spraying everywhere and kicking up a thick dust cloud. Alarmed shouts rang out. He scowled and swiped his hand through the concrete filth obscuring his vision.

Heroes, he vehemently spat. They couldn't make escaping any easier, could they?

He swiftly dodged as a grey article shot towards him like a bullet. He grabbed the offending item and yanked, looking to off-balance the Hero when the cloth in his hand pulled back in the other direction. Overhaul leapt out of the way from a boot aimed to his face, and the cloth binding in his hand slipped easily from his grasp. 

He ripped off his gloves and shot his hand out to the wall. His fingers brushed against the concrete and he willed his quirk to manifest, only to be met with a sense of wrongwrongwrongwrongWRONG-

He regarded the group of costumed, disease-ridden pests with disdain. "Eraserhead. So good of you to drop by with your fellow heroes."

"And me!" A shortie in a green hood popped up, waving a pair of jazz hands like this was a stand-up comedy routine. "His favorite vigilante pal!"

Overhaul idly wondered how quickly he can dispel Eraser's quirk and skewer this brat. From the pained to downright disdainful expressions on the Heroes' faces, Overhaul could clearly tell he wasn't the only one irked by this fool's attempt at levity.

A barrage of weighty projectiles (chess pieces? No stamps) assaulted him. He narrowly dodged, unable to construct a proper barrier without his quirk, and he gave short cry as a flash of pain exploding from his thigh. He didn't have time to check the wound. Eraserhead's scarf whipped out and aimed for his leg, slamming him down to the ground and knocking all the air out of him. He growled and curled his gloved fist before flinging dust and rubble in the Hero's face. He darted to the side and avoided his attack, but that brief moment Overhaul obtained when Eraser's line of sight was broken was all he needed. 

He slammed his ungloved hand to the ground and sent a shockwave through the earth. He blasted the Heroes and that vigilante brat away, each in different directions before raising up a thick wall and isolating them from him. He doubted they would keep those buffoons away for long considering what happened to the previous wall they encountered, but that was of little concern at the moment. His priority was to escape with the brat and the research. Chronostasis would be left to deal with that scarred fire user - yet another useful pawn that had to be sacrificed to ensure their escape -, but again, they can rebuild so long as he had his hands on those two things, so just where did that insufferable brat and that briefcase go - ?

"Excuse me, Mr. Overhaul sir?"

He turned around and landed his eyes on the pleasant smile of the curly-haired, green-eyed, Quirkless prisoner he was supposed to be fleeing with. 

It was the last image seared into his mind before a fist flew at his face. 

~*~

It took the Heroes ten minutes to reconvene at their location. By the time they arrived, there were multiple holes in the walls, Chronostasis was bald and covered in soot (especially around his head), Overhaul had his fingers bent in horrifyingly painful directions, and sitting next to their unconscious forms on the floor looking absolutely bored was the missing Quirkless child, Izuku Midoriya. 

He perked up at the sound of footsteps. He pleasantly waved, like they weren't in the middle of a raid and the bodies of the most dangerous individuals in the Eight Precepts weren't hog-tied next to him. "Oh hey! You finally made it."

Rock Lock stared at the bodies. "Uh. . ."

Midoriya glanced at them and dismissively waved. "Yeah, apparently that green-hooded guy and that scarred guy with a blue fire quirk managed to knock them out before they left. Well, one of them at least. I punched the purple-boa guy in the face and he went down for the count. I honestly didn't think I was that strong? But, yeah, apparently I was, because he didn't wake up while they were tying him up and snapping his fingers like pretzels. Which is. . . not a memory I'd like to revisit, thank you very much. Oh, and they told me to bash their head into the floor if it looked like they were about to wake up before you guys got here. So far, I haven't had to do it."

A low groan riveted their attention. Overhaul shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open.

In a single calm, swift movement, Midoriya grabbed the back of Overhaul's head and smashed him into the concrete floor with an audible thwack. The teen removed his hand from his hair and he didn't move.

"Correction," The kid piped up. "I only had to do it once."

He smiled prettily, like he just finished reciting a presentation for school. Rock Lock looked vaguely horrified. Sir Nighteye looked a little lost, even though he'd never admit it. Eraserhead suddenly felt his sixth sense go off whenever he's around a special breed of children and he inwardly groaned. 

Problem child, he inwardly gripped, looking as the kid stand up and casually brush his jeans off.

~*~

The rest of the raid was executed beautifully. Nearly textbook, in Naomasa's humble opinion. A few minor hiccups here and there, especially in taking down the Eight Bullets, but the Heroes and Taskforce were able to apprehend every single member of the Eight Precepts in the end. 

Of course, the only reason why the operation went so smoothly was because Viridian compiled a list of every single member, which included their name, their quirks, how to counter said quirks, which Heroes were recommended to fight said member and which ones they should steer clear from, an entire laundry list of crimes and what will and won't stick in a court of law, and even a comprehensive rehab plan for most if not all members. 

Everything went without a hitch. The casualties were practically negligible. Naomasa should be celebrating that this raid went as successfully as it did. 

And yet . . . 

"Officer Tamakawa," He looked onwards into the room, grim-faced. "Did you find . . . ?"

His nose twitched in agitation. The Detective's stomach dropped as his partner shook his head. "Not a trace."

Detective Naomasa took in a deep, infuriated breath. He closed his eyes and reigned in his anger and self-loathing for not getting here sooner. Eraser would say he's being irrational. That it happened, and now was the time for their next move. But it still twists his heart every time something like this happens. 

"So the intel we got from Viridian was right then," He softly said.

They watched as Forensics combed the horrifying scene laid out before them. Plush toys torn to shreds scattered across the room. Painted walls with deep gouges across the rainbows and clouds. Ripped pink sheets underneath the thick broken straps on the bed. A ravaged straight jacket tossed aside on the checkered floor. The scent of dust, death, and despair that permeated the room alongside the heavy stench of bleach. The numerous spots that lit up a neon indigo under black light, the splatter pattern indicating extreme resistance. 

Naomasa took off his hat and pressed it delicately over his chest. "Eri ran away from the Eight Precepts three months ago."

"And she hasn't been seen since."

~*~

"Deku-nii?"

". . . Yeah, Eri?"

". . . W-when am I going back to Chisaki-sama?"

". . . Never. You're never going back to that place. You don't have to worry about Chisaki ever again."

"B-but you have to! Please Deku-nii, Chisaki-sama will come after you and take me away and he'll hurt you really bad and - and - !"

"Shh, shh. . . No one is going to take you away Eri. No one, not even Chisaki. And you wanna know why?"

". . . Wh-why?"

"Because I'm here. I won't let anyone take you away from me. Not now, not ever."

"B-but what h-h-happens if they do? Wh-what'll you do then?"

"Then I'll find you. No matter where you are, I'll come find you. It doesn't matter if I have to fight the entire world to do it. I'll find a way to get you back no matter what it takes."

". . . R-really?" 

"Mmhm."

". . . You aren't lying to me, are you?"

"No."

". . . Okay, Deku-nii. I trust you."

Chapter Text

So . . . It's been a while. . . And by that, I mean a whole year. Wow. 

I have no excuses for myself. Well, technically I do—my muse for BNHA fanfics kind of ran out on me? And I've been sticking my fingers in a bunch of original projects, (namely making comics, writing my own stories, and I'm currently learning how to make a visual novel—surprisingly fun, once I learn how to code) but enough of that. 

You're here for a story. For the old readers, thank you for coming back and I apologize for leaving you hanging. I love interacting with you guys in the comments, and I will cherish each and every interaction I've had so far with you. I'm sorry to say that I don't know if I can write an ending to this fic. Which sucks, but I don't want to put out subpar content and ultimately ruin the story—no story deserves that kind of half-baked effort, fanfic or otherwise. Hopefully I can pick this fic up again in the future and finally be able to say THE END. But until then, I have some good news. Turns out I have six more chapters lined up that I never got around to publishing. Whoops.  

I'll release them slowly, once a week as per usual. I'll still reply to comments like I always did, though it may take me a while since I have a backlog of 300+ messages in my inbox. I'll be posting this message across all my fics. And. . .yeah. That's about it. Look forward to seeing a new chapter soon!

-NKane

Chapter Text

Mikumo whistled to himself as he worked through another Hero report. The assignments Sensei gave him were always so very interesting. This week's target was Morpho, a Daylight Hero that was in it for the fame and glory but fell short when faced with the real world. Now he's a wash-up in the lower rankings strapped for cash. He'd taken to illegally selling support gear to the League recently, but his superiors are getting a little too close to their operations and they need to cut him loose before they find out who his buyer is. All they need to do is set up an unfortunate accident with a villain and -

"Young Master Akatani, it's here."

His head instantly shot up from his notebook as Kurogiri dropped a letter on the counter beside him. He grinned and eagerly grabbed the letter, muttering out a quick thanks, and swiftly tore open the envelope.

"So?" Shigaraki impatiently asked, four fingers drumming the counter. "Did you get in or what?"

Mikumo sharply grinned. "Guess who's going to be the traitor at UA."

Shigaraki cackled and slapped his back, four fingers raised. "Great! Those Heroes will never see you coming!"

"Of course they wouldn't," He purred, running his fingers over the paper. "After all, there's no way a Quirkless could become a Hero, now is it?" 

~*~

One month. It's been one month since Izuku's been "rescued," and that entire time has been split between finding Eri, planning the League's downfall, plotting Shigaraki's death, building support items for Mei, monitoring Endeavor's case, and studying for UA (villainous scheming and academics are two different things, and it's been years since he's read Villainy in Voltaire, which is a pretty cool book that talks about how society hails flashy, "Heroic" quirks like it's some religious deity and calls for the reader to engage in discourse regarding Quirkism, but Aldera twisted it into some Quirkist manifesto to enforce the status quo in their school. Ugh, it's like Marx and Communism all over again)*.

So yeah. He's busy and stressed because he can find neither hide nor hair of his little sister. No one has seen her for months. How is that even possible? Where is she? Is she safe? Did some other organization kidnap her? What if she's being tortured all over again because he did something that triggered some goddang butterfly effect that made her - !

"Izuku! There's a letter from UA here!"

He frowned, fingers continuing to fly across the keyboard as he called back, "Mkay, just give me a moment! I'm in the middle of hacking and I can't stop, otherwise I'd be detected!" He discretely slipped a facial recognition program for Eri before slipping out of the public camera system from the Musutafu police and deftly covering his tracks. He powered down his computer and left his room, trotting over to his mother.

She sat at the table, letter in hand, a pensive look on her face. She tilted her head as he approached and held it out to him. "What do you think this is about?"

His lips set into a thin line as he took it, quickly inspecting it. "The emblem is real so it can't be a fake. Hm . . . I've got a couple of ideas about what this is about, none good."

"They wouldn't bar your entry into the Heroics just because you're Quirkless, would they?" His mother fretted.

"If they do, then I can just go to GenEd and take the Sports Festival route. They can't stop my transfer if I obliterate every single person in the Heroics Course on live, national television. And if they try to stop my acceptance into UA in general, then I can take online classes and continue my work as Viridian," His eyes hardened, fingers running over the envelope. "That said, I highly doubt UA would be the type to discriminate, not with Nezu as the Principal and the UA Faculty's background growing up. They've all faced quirk-based discrimination in some way, and based on my previous life, they would have been chomping at the bit to get their hands on a Quirkless Hero. Not to mention that they explicitly removed the ban on their site that said Quirkless students can't apply for the Heroics program this year. So I wonder what this is about . . . ?"

He gratefully took the letter opener she passed him and sliced through the envelope. He pulled out the neatly folded paper inside and read.

And read.

And read.

"I-Izuku?" His mother worriedly murmured, wringing her hands as her baby's face suddenly went blank. "Sweetie, what is it?"

He slowly set the paper down on the table and took in a slow, deep, calming breath that did absolutely nothing to quell the rage growing inside of him. "Give me one moment, I need to confirm something."

Inko watched, completely baffled as her son zipped back into his room and closed the door behind him. She reached across the table and picked the letter up with trembling hands, scanning the words to deduce what would incite such a reaction in her son.

She blanched right as her son loudly swore from his room.

\\~*~//

Ever since Deku disappeared, the world has been just - static. Or not static. Whatever.

One moment, the nerd is there in class, blank faced and scribbling away at his journal and the next he's . . . not. Ever since Auntie Inko told him Deku went missing, he felt off. Like an itch crawling underneath his skin, a gag shoved down his throat, a weight wrapped around his chest, and his hands sweating more than usual. He's blown up more at those extras and those stupid teachers. The Principal and his homeroom teacher pulled him aside one day to talk about it.

"I understand that Midoriya has been present in your life for a very long time now," The Principal smiled, but it felt like sludge dripping from his face. "But really, this was to be expected."

His mouth went dry. "What?" He blurted out. "He's missing. Kidnapped. How the hell is that supposed to be 'expected'?!"

"Katsuki," His teacher gently chided, but it still felt wrong. "Midoriya is Quirkless. The reality is, sooner or later this would have happened. The Quirkless are weaker than the Quirked, and so they often find themselves the target of villains because of their disadvantaged status. I'm just surprised it took this long for a villain to come after him."

He blanched. Okay, Deku was weak, and maybe he'd gotten a little stronger, but - what the freaking hell?!

"I understand this may come as a bit of a shock," The Principal sagely explained in way that made Katsuki want to deck his face. "But I believe that you'll get over this little hiccup like you always do. Think of it as . . . training of sorts. You would have gone to UA eventually and never see Midoriya again. It just happened a little earlier than expected, but now you can take the time between then and now to adjust to this new change."

He slammed his hands down on the table and snarled. "Bull-effing-shiz. A whole effing person is missing and you're just sitting on your high horses talking like he's already gone for good. Well guess what, he ain't! Sooner or later those villains will figure out he's too useless to keep around and he'll come back to screw over my life like he always does!"

"Katsuki, calm down-" His teacher softly warned.

He whirled around and jammed a finger at his teacher and snarled, "No, you listen to me. He will be back. So don't you dare start talking about like he's already gone."

"Katsuki," The Principal wearily warned. "You won't have to worry about Midoriya returning, because I highly doubt he would. You won't have to worry about him getting in the way of your path to greatness anymore. Now you can devote your entire focus into the upcoming exams for UA without anymore distractions."

Distractions. Yeah, that's what Deku was. A distraction. Those stupid teachers didn't understand that even when he's not here, Deku is still a distraction. They keep trying to console him, but danggit he doesn't need to be consoled!

"Why are you so hung up over that guy?" Fingers chortled. "Aren't you glad that he's finally gone?"

"Yeah!" Eyeballs laughed. "At least we'll have a classmate that isn't useless. Hey, what do you think the new guy's quirk is gonna be like?"

Katsuki snarled and let out a huge explosion between their faces. They both yelped and jerked back, like the freaking cowards they were.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem?!" Eyeballs shouted.

"Deku ain't gone!" He yelled.

They both looked at each other before turning back to him.

He snarled and snapped, "What the hell are you looking at me like that for?!"

Fingers scrunched up his nose. "Dude, I get that you're childhood friends or something, but didn't you hate him?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd be the happiest to see him gone," Eyeballs pipped up. "Didn't you tell him to go kill himself a while back?"

He growled, and that was all the warning they had before he let out another explosion and screamed, "SCREW OFF!"

That's right, he hated Deku. Hated how he's Quirkless and wanted to be a Hero anyways. It's like being a Hero is something anyone can do on a whim! That nerd never lifted a finger to train like he did, always looking down on his hard work, thinking that some fancy tools and a computer is enough to take down huge villains like Toxic Chainsaw! You take those away and he'd get killed the moment he stepped out onto the field! How the hell is he supposed to protect himself, let alone others when he didn't have a quirk?!

Effing hell. The little shiz even managed to get himself kidnapped by a villain of all things just because he was Quirkless. That right there is proof why Deku could never become a Hero. What kind of effing Hero lets himself get kidnapped by some wannabe D-Lister?!

He can't stop thinking about what the Principal said. He looked it up on a computer last night, why villains went after the Quirkless.

Hate crimes, human experimentation, human trafficking, sex work-

He slammed his laptop shut. He caught a glimpse of some of the pictures on that site by accident.  He didn't want to think about Deku dead, Deku strapped on a table, Deku in a cage shipped overseas, Deku sold to some grimy guy in a brothel somewhere

Even worse was what could have happened if Deku didn't get kidnapped.

He came across Quirkless forums while researching why they get heavily targeted by villains. He clicked through them, expecting to find the information he was looking for but found something else instead. Post after post, recount after recount of people talking about bullies, schools sabotaging their transcripts, sharing trusted suicide hotline numbers, places willing to hire Quirkless people, a list of hospitals that would take Quirkless patients and not charge an arm and a leg, and a meme that was supposed to be upbeat saying, "Not part of the 80% of Quirkless teens!"

80% of Quirkless teens committed suicide before they graduate high school.

His stomach churned when he considers how Deku could have been among them.  How he could still  become  them.

"Why do you care, Katsuki? Why do you care about the boy you told to go take a swan dive and pray for a quirk in his next life?"

There's no way the nerd would've actually gone through with it. He's a cockroach, he's supposed to be impossible to kill. 

Sobs wracked the old janitor. He was with the lunch people in the staff lunchroom, which looked more like a repurposed storage room with a cheap, foldable, plastic table set up. 

"How could they?" The janitor scathingly hiccupped. "Of all the ones who could've been taken, why did it have to be Izuku?!"

One of the lunch ladies placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Issou. . ."

"No!" He roared, fire burning in his black beetle eyes. "Out of all the wretched people here, he was the only one that was good in this shizhole! You know, he noticed my carpal tunnel long before I did? He bought a wrist brace for me two months ago and directed me to a clinic that wouldn't discriminate against unsightly mutation quirks like me. He was going to be a Hero - one of the best ones out there, but he can't see it because that Bakugou brat keeps abusing him! If someone had to be taken, it should've been that - that - that villain!"

"Issou," Another janitor cut in. "He's just a kid. It's not his fault that the school keeps fanning his ego."

"But am I wrong?!" He spat. "Tell me that kid won't become a villain. Tell me that's what a Hero looks like!"

No one said anything. The silence spoke for them. Katsuki retreated from the stairwell, away from the room, and dumped the contents of his bento in a nearby trashcan. 

His appetite was gone. Just like Deku.

"Have you even seen our school? Didn't you notice how our teacher did absolutely jack shiz when you told me to take a swan dive off the roof?"

It's not his fault. It's not his fault. He's going to be a Hero, goddangit. Those losers don't know what they're talking about. Him? A villain? Don't make him laugh. He'll be the Number One Hero and put all those extras in their place! He'll be bigger and better than even All Might!

All Might wouldn't beat up a Quirkless kid and tell him to go kill himself. It's not a joke. It was never supposed to be a joke. Kami, why did he say that? What's wrong with him?

He felt sick. He felt angry. He wanted to take the world by the throat and scream at it until things made sense again. He wanted the desk in the row behind him to not be empty. He wanted everyone to stop looking at him weird when he said that Deku ain't gone. He wanted the nerd to come back and stop making Auntie Inko cry every time he saw her. He wanted him to come back.

And he did.

He slammed the door open. He growled, staring down at the nerd sitting in a hospital bed. He didn't look up from the book he was reading and calmly flipped a page.

Katsuki felt a vein popping. "Deku," He sneered.

"Katsuki," He evenly shot back. 

That vein was closer to bursting right now. "What was that about hospitals refusing Quirkless screw ups like you?"

A wry smile stretched across his face, and Katsuki felt a strong urge to blast it off. "Oh, they do. They tried to kick me out the moment they found out I didn't have a quirk. But apparently, the detective on the case threatened to charge them with 'obstruction of justice' because they intended to harm a crucial witness of their case via neglect, and that would've been a messy process to handle. Too much trouble to go through, so they just decided to go ahead and accept me."

His mouth twisted. "You're lying."

Deku shrugged. "Believe whatever you want. Anyways, where's Auntie and Uncle? I doubt you came of your own volition."

He opened his mouth to retort that he absolutely would and he's not that much of a freaking a-hole, but he got interrupted by his mother screaming, "KATSUKI, YOU BRAT! DON'T GO RUNNING OFF LIKE THAT!"

He roared and leaned out the door. "SHUT IT, YOU OLD HAG!"

"Mistuki, Katsuki, please, this is a hospital," his father pleaded. 

He came back to school.

"Yes, yes, we're glad to have you back and all that," The teacher flippantly drawled. "It's amazing that you survived being experimented on, Midoriya. Considering you don't have a quirk, you should have been dead. Oh well."

Katsuki wanted to scream. Because what the actual hell, Teach?! Deku was experimented on?! Villains actually did that to him?! Wait, if this is true then what else is - ?

The bell rang for break. Katsuki got up to leave, but only he and a few others did. He frowned. Why was there so many people-?

Laughter resounded from the corner of the classroom. Katsuki looked over, seeing a small crowd of extras standing around Deku's desk. One of them slammed his hand onto his desk with a sneer. Katsuki tore his eyes away, only to see that almost everyone else that stayed was looking, and the ones who didn't were pretending they saw nothing. 

So that's why most of them stayed. Tch, whatever.

"What sensei said about you getting experimented on was a lie, right?" Extra #1 scoffed. "You look the same and act the same! I bet this was a ploy just to get some sympathy, ain't it? Poor, Quirkless Deku. No one loves you, not even your mom - "

"Midnight Jewels."

Extra #1 suddenly shut up. He stiffened as Deku slid his gaze over to him, eyes almost glowing a toxic viridian in the shadow of his hair. "Nine to five on the daily. About, hm, twice a week? Shame. It used to be twice a day two decades ago. The things children can bring about with just their existence alone." 

Extra #1 blanched and looked sick. One of the other extras frowned and reached out to him, asking, "Forget it, he's just spouting a load of nonsense-"

"SHUT UP!" 

The entire class froze. Extra #1 tensed as he realized that he said that out loud. He rearranged his face back into a scowl and kicked Deku's desk, making it jump before turning around. "Let's go. This loser ain't worth it."

Everyone looked on, baffled by the sudden turn of events. No one mentioned how quickly he left the classroom. 

Or the raw terror on his face as he rushed out the door. 

Deku was back, but everything was still wrong. 

"It's a shame that Midoriya came back."

Katsuki's eye twitched. He was in the Principal's office, again, after blowing up one too many times in class that the teachers had no choice but to send him here. He expected punishment. He knows how many times he can blow up in class before the teachers get serious about making him stop, and he went way beyond that count. 

"It seems that his instigative behavior has become worse after he returned," The Principal frowned. 

Katsuki's eye twitched harder. Just what the hell is he even saying - ?!

"Katsuki, I understand just how difficult it is to be in the same proximity as Midoriya once more," He simpered. 

Katsuki wanted to rage. How dare he look down on him with that pitiful look on his pork-bellied face - !

"You and I both know how troublesome he is," He continued, undeterred by the festering fury on his student's face. " Truly a problematic child. But don't worry, the teachers are on your side, young man. You only have a few more months before you can go to UA, and you'll never have to see Midoriya again. You'll be a fantastic Hero after all, and those like Midoriya are forever destined to be at the bottom."

He was let off with nothing more than a chat. Not even a slap on the wrist. He stopped just outside of the door, in the private hallway between the office and the Principal's room. He gritted his teeth, trying to reign in his rage before he had to go back to class when a voice cut into the silence.

"Ugh, I can't believe that Quirkless brat doesn't just die already."

Katsuki froze. His heart thumped in his chest. The Principal was on a phone call, that much was obvious. Maybe he just misheard him -

"Yeah, I wiped all the recordings of Katsuki telling it to jump," The Principal clicked his tongue. "Honestly, that brat is such a hassle to clean up after. And really? Telling that piece of shiz to jump? Ugh, can you even imagine what that would do to the school's reputation? Quirkless or not, a suicide is a suicide and we can't have it on school grounds! It would've been so much easier if it died at the hands of that villain that kidnapped it. We would've gotten rid of that brat without needing to get our hands dirty. It's that simple! Tch, villain must have been incompetent if it couldn't manage to kill off a single Quirkless brat."

There was a pause. And then a scoff.

"The Quirkless brat is already starting to affect Katsuki. He's gotten more volatile and distracted in class. I heard from his teachers that his grades are slipping and he's gotten more feral. At this rate, Aldera will lose its best chance of having a graduate make it into a school as prestigious as UA!"

Another pause. A creak from the old office chair as the Principal moved up.

"Now listen here. I've invested too much of my time and resources into Katsuki's bull for him to start floundering now. UA only accepts the best of the best, and he is the best this school has to offer. If it wasn't for that flashy quirk and those high grades, we wouldn't even give him the time of day like that Quirkless runt."

He laughed. Malicious and cold and cruel, like the sharp edge of a poisoned knife. 

"Does it really matter what Katsuki's behavior is like? He could kill a person for all I care so long as he becomes a Pro Hero. If that person happens to be Midoriya, then all the better for everyone! Everyone knows that the police will just write off its death as a quirk accident. The Quirkless have no place in today's society. All they're good for is padding the homeless rates here in Japan!"

The cold and cruel laughter echoed in his head. Katsuki ran out of the hallway, out of the office, out of school. He didn't care if he was ditching. He needed - oh Kami, what the freak? They didn't - he said - Katsuki could kill someone and they wouldn't stop him? Why? That's - that's something only a villain would do! Why would they allow him to become a villain?! He's supposed to be a Hero! Why would - why - just why would they - ?!

"Have you even seen our school? Didn't you notice how our teacher did absolutely jack shiz when you told me to take a swan dive off the roof?"

He stopped running. He was underneath an overpass on an deserted road. The trees lining the abandoned street were slowly losing their autumn-tinged leaves. It was cold. Snow would start falling soon. It was one of those stupidly romantic scenes that the old hag would go gaga over, but romantic didn't fit in with what was happening.

His world had been torn apart. The doubts that had been planted since that confrontation with Deku so long ago, about the way Quirkless were treated, were rearing its ugly head. That phone call the Principal had was a witch slap to the face. 

Deku was right. What the hell, the nerd was right. That wasn't a school, that was a breeding ground for villains controlled by villains that call themselves teachers, and he's been listening to all the bullshiz they spouted for the past three years.

"FRICK!" He screamed and set off twin bombs from his hands, trying anything, anything to stop this seeping cold and choking sensation from crawling up on him like sludge.  

He collapsed on the ground. He has to face reality now. Those villains tried to turn him into a villain. Freak it, that janitor extra even called him a villain. They're turning him into a villain and he doesn't know what's right from wrong anymore. If what the school is teaching him is wrong, then what the hell is a Hero supposed to be?! How can he be a Hero and not the Villain they want him to be?!

Going home was a blur. The old hag yelled at him, demanding to know where the hell he went after the school called and told him he fled, but she immediately went silent when she saw him silent. His father easily picked up his somber mood. They both approached with worry on their faces and he asked them to leave him alone. Actually asked. It must have been that, because they both backed off and left him to go to his room alone. 

His reality is shattered. Everything is falling apart and he doesn't know what to do. He can't put back the pieces because the whole picture was inherently wrong in the first place, which means he has to make a new one, but how? How the hell can he not become a villain when all he's been taught was how to become one in the first place?!

It's morning. He doesn't know if he got any sleep. His parents shoot worried looks but made no move to stop him. The old hag told him to give him a call if he wanted to come back home earlier than usual, and her voice was actually softer than he's ever heard it. Like he's fragile. Like he's Deku. But he couldn't muster up the anger to snap back. It's like all the anger that's been fueling him for his entire life is just . . . gone.

Walk to the station. Get on the train. Get to school. Sit in class. An announcement from the office for him, likely about what happened yesterday.

He ignored the wary and vicious and ignorant looks from all the faceless, nameless people around him as he stood up. He was directed to an empty clubroom. His heart leapt to his throat when he saw some plain-looking guy in a beige trench coat there, someone who introduced himself as a cop.

"Hello," He smiled mildly. "I'm Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi. I'm here to talk about your classmate, Izuku Midoriya."

Katsuki vaguely registered the name in his head. He numbly opened his mouth and blurted out, "Are you here to arrest me?"

The Detective shot him a weird look. It was a moment before he set it to a neutral frown and asked, ". . . Why would you be arrested, young man?"

"Because this school is turning me into a villain that wants to kill Deku, and I don't know how to stop it."

The Detective stiffened. His eyes widened before coming down to a sharp gleam. His entire demeanor shifted, suddenly becoming more serious as he simply commanded, "Explain."

And so he did. Katsuki Bakugou spilled it to him. Every single thing he did wrong, every single thing he was never punished for, every single thing that Principal and his teachers had said, and how no one ever looked out for Deku except the kitchen staff and the janitors. 

He never noticed how the camera in the room was hacked. Or that forty feet away, sitting at his desk, Izuku Midoriya raised on eyebrow at the scene playing out on his modified phone.

Huh, he mused, watching as Katsuki spilled his guts. Guess he underestimated him.

Chapter Text

Dear Izuku Midoriya,

UA thanks you for your application, but we are sorry to inform you that we must reject your application on the basis of your behavior. You have far too many marks on your student record for UA to accept you as a potential student. Please let this be a lesson for you to grow your character into someone that you can be proud of in the future, and we wish you the best of luck with your applications to other high schools across the country.

Sincerely,
UA Admissions Office

Izuku had to count to ten the moment he got to his computer. He hacked into Aldera's databases and found the outgoing email containing his academic transcript to UA. And by Kami, it was infuriating. It was a list a freaking list of twenty pages worth of incident reports all painting him as a budding delinquent. Instigating fights he was the oft the victim of, disrupting class with his mumbling, "stalking" students about their quirks because he was "jealous" - it goes on and on. The only one that was even remotely close to correct was that one time he dislocated Katsuki's shoulder after he was warped back into the past. For the record, it was totally in self-defense and can be perfectly explained away as such.

But still. What in the actual hell. He knew Aldera was absolutely shiz. He knew they actively sabotaged his grades and punished him for one-sided beatdown other students started. Really, he should have known this would happen. It's a logical leap to make.

Three years as a SSS-Ranked super villain, the mastermind of the League of Villains, a calamity second only to All for One, lauded for his strategic mind and ability to wield information with lethal precision. . . And yet, he managed to overlook a little bump in the road that came from a mile away. Kami. Okay, fine.

His mother stared back at him, horror-stricken. "Baby, it's not fine. They can't do this to you."

Izuku pouted and took a swig of his tea. "Right? The audacity of some people! Even career criminals have more sense to pick a fight with me!"

His mother nodded, grim-faced. "Okay sweetheart, should I call Dabi over to raze the school to ashes - ? Don't give me that look, I'm your mother. You may be a decade older and fully capable of taking care of yourself, but you'll always be my sweet little boy."

"I caused the collapse of society as we know it," He squinted.

"I stand by what I said," She evenly responded, and he gave up trying to convince her otherwise.

He sighed. "Alright. So Aldera committed academic fraud on the basis of quirk discrimination, specifically Quirkless discrimination. They already sent my transcripts, so even if I edited and resend it myself, I'll still be rejected. Worse, they may suspect something and investigate, and even if they can't prove anything I'll still be considered untrustworthy by the school and faculty, which can't happen if I want to gain their assistance in taking down Shigaraki. So the only route to take now would be to shut down Aldera and prove that they falsified my transcripts."

"Hm," His mother thoughtfully hummed. She took a sip of her tea. "I'm assuming you've already come up with plans for this scenario?"

"I have sixty," He muttered, cupping his chin with his finger. "But the two-week time frame before the UA entrance exams do away with half of them. I can't draw any more suspicions to me either, because having the attention of Eraser and Tsukauchi would hinder my search for Eri as Viridian. So that means there's no way I can use Viridian to bust this school for Quirkless discrimination, otherwise I'd be flagged as one of the 'kids' for the Viridian case and placed under protective custody. Likewise, I can't take down the school as Izuku Midoriya or even anonymously, because having a school shut down so soon after my 'rescue' is bound to raise a few eyebrows, not to mention that information-based takedowns is Viridian's modus operandi. I need to take a hands-off approach to this situation, but it'll also have to be something that will yield quick results. . ."

His mother took another sip of her tea, fondly watching her son dissolve into a mumbling spree. Like father, like son. Her baby was becoming more and more like his father by the day!

He blinked. Izuku nodded to himself resolutely. "Right. Plans 14, 27, and 47 with the substitution of people involved from plan 3. That should work, and I can use those in case it doesn't work out. . . Mhm. Okay," He looked up and stared at her. "So Mom, would you mind helping me?"

~*~

"The first step is getting in contact with Detective Tsukauchi."

"Hm, I'm assuming this isn't just because of familiarity?"

"No," He grimaced. "He's the only person I trust on the force to look into a case of Quirkless discrimination."

His mother's eyes glinted. "He better."

Izuku snorted. "Do you still have Detective Tsukauchi's business card from the Overhaul case?"

She polished off her mug as she flashed him the crème cardstock, already anticipating this.

"Great!" Her son grinned. "It's time we pay our dear, darling detective a visit."

"Hey Tsukauchi, there's someone here to visit you."

Naomasa barely lifted his bleary eyes from his report. He waved his hand and slapped one hand over his head, trying to stave off the migraine forming. "Mkay. Page them in."

Officer Sansa gave a cheeky, two-fingered salute and left his office. Naomasa sighed as he went back to the report, words swimming through the pages. This time, it was a list of last night's exploits from one pain-in-the-butt vigilante. Viridian's been more active in the past month since the Precept's raid, and he could only guess that it was because of the little girl that went missing under the Yakuza's care. It seems like Viridian took out his pent up aggression on the poor, unfortunate muggers that crossed his path last night, judging from the rather. . . gruesome state he left them in.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He swiftly collected all the papers and stuffed it in a folder before shoving it in the locked drawer of his desk. He swept his arm across his desk and let the copious amount of empty coffee cups clatter into the trashcan off to the side. He fixed his shirt, straightened his tie, and finger-brushed any wayward strands of his hair before the knock came to his door. He folded his hands together and tacked a welcoming, if not exhausted smile on his face. "Come in."

The doorknob turned and gently swung open. A short, slightly portly woman entered through the threshold. She seemed oddly familiar - oh, wait. This is the mother of the Quirkless kid who got kidnapped last month. Right, he couldn't forget how many tears she cried the moment she laid eyes on her son again. She bowed, politely murmuring, "Pardon the intrusion."

"Oh, none at all. Mrs. Midoriya, right?" He confirmed, internally sighing when she nodded. "Please, take a seat ma'am."

"Thank you very much," She hesitantly smiled, pulling out a chair and perching herself on it. She wrung her hands and worried the bottom lip of her mouth between her teeth.

His demeanor immediately softened and he lowered his tone, recalling all the training on interacting with anxious civilians. "How can I help you today, ?"

Her hands stilled. She stiffened, glancing away. She seemed to debate with herself for a moment, before opening her mouth and tentatively asking, "Detective Tsukauchi, you said that I could come to you if my son and I needed any help, right . . . ?"

"Of course," He resolutely answered. "Have you encountered any suspicious individuals lately? Or has something strange happened?"

"Well, yes, but it doesn't have to do with Izuku's kidnapping," She twittered, going back to wringing her hands.

Tsukauchi tried to cover up his disappointment (he really hoped this kid would be on Viridian's watchlist, but it seems not . . . ), but couldn't deny the relieved sigh he let out. "Alright then, what seems to be the problem?"

Mrs. Midoriya took a deep breath. "My son's school is actively sabotaging his academic career by falsifying information on his high school transcripts."

Whatever he expected, it certainly wasn't that.

"Can you elaborate?" He gently prodded.

Mrs. Midoriya paused for a moment, seeming to collect herself. "What do you know about Quirkless people, detective?"

He grimaced. "I've heard very . . . particularly nasty rumors about what happens to them. Unfortunately, the police can't act without a claim being filed first."

"And if I were to file one?" She pressed.

"Then I'll be the one to investigate," He answered.

"You will?" She insisted, tone as hard as flint.

Naomasa recalled all the research he did about Quirkless individuals after Midoriya was refused treatment at a hospital. They could legally deny him treatment. Kami, it was a nightmare to hear about. He knows how Quirkless were treated in today's society, but it didn't seem to hit him how terribly they were treated by the system until he met Midoriya. Up until now, he only knew Quirkless victims in terms of domestic abuse cases and suicides between him and Eraser. But for a hospital, a government-funded institution to deny treatment of an individual was. . . frankly, a slap to the face. So he did his research. Information was sparse but shocking. Elevated rates of homelessness, unemployment, opportunities for higher education, and - worse of all considering his very profession - the number of cold cases revolving Quirkless victims. It meant that a lot of cops mishandled those cases, resulting in a lot of them going unsolved or even worse, a dead victim. He knows what Inko Midoriya was asking of him. He knows the wary sheen in her eyes he's seen dozens of times in those who have been wronged by the system.

Which is precisely why he didn't hesitate when he asked, "Can you explain to me in detail about your son's treatment at his school?"

"So after I visit the Detective - then what?"

"I start leaving breadcrumbs," Izuku pulled up his laptop. "I make sure that the evidence in the school is actually in the school and he'll pick them up. All you need to do is gently remind him every once in a while that you're counting on him for results."

His mother lifted one eyebrow. "Not heavily pressure him?"

Izuku snorted. "The guy's more overworked than I am. He's a good man. He won't let this case rest until it reaches its conclusion."

"Sweetheart, no one is more overworked than you are," She exasperatedly jibed.

He shrugged and went back to prepping his codes to sneakily slip into the school's system.

". . . Do you have any plans for Katsuki?" His mother frowned. "When this case goes through, he'll be identified as your main tormentor. He won't be able to get into UA anymore, and I know that will significantly change your plans."

Keyboard clicks filled the momentary silence between them.

"I guess it'll be up to him, then. If he doesn't go the UA, then he doesn't go to UA. Best case scenario would be if he stays a civilian, but knowing him, it'll be more likely he would turn to vigilantism. Worst case would be if villains pick him up."

"And if that happens," Izuku continued, tone cavalier. "I'll take care of him myself."

Naomasa sent a message to the Principal a day before, stating that he was coming over the next day. He wanted to see how Izuku Midoriya was "adjusting" in the aftermath of a large kidnapping case before they can fully close the case. He asked to keep his presence a secret so that he can observe the boy in his natural state.

Of course, that was all a logical ruse (as Eraser puts it) to investigate the school without raising any alarms. He was legally required to notify them of his presence one day ahead of his visit considering he didn't have a warrant, but hopefully he'll be able to find the evidence he needed before the school destroyed it. That said, Naomasa knew the minute he stepped foot on campus that this is going to be a headache. He was prepared for misdirection, falsified testimonies, and evidence conveniently "disappearing" from their hold. He's played this song and dance too many times for it to be normal, but he doesn't regret it. The job of the cops is to protect the people when the Heroes can't. If this school is actively undermining the future of one of its students, then he'll get to the bottom of it.

He just didn't think he'd get the evidence for it so soon.

He listened long and hard as Katsuki Bakugou, classmate and longtime "friend" of Izuku Midoriya confessed to every single thing he's done. Like a sinner in a confessional, this kid had a laundry list of issues longer than most hardened criminals. Hearing about how this kid abused another for his Quirklessness was - Kami, it felt like hearing how Overhaul experimented on kids!

He sucked in a subtle breath to temper his nerves.

"Bakugou," He started. The kid flinched, and he pushed aside his instinct to go softer on the kid. Or maybe that's the anger talking, who knows? "I hope you realize the severity of what you just said."

The kid barred his teeth in a grimace. "I know. I screwed up. Are you gonna arrest me now?"

Naomasa kept his expression neutral. "That will be decided by the courts. I won't lie when I say that it's not looking good for you, but for what it's worth, it seems like your teachers encouraged your behavior from an early age despite knowing how harmful it was. Acknowledging that what you did was wrong is a major step in the right direction."

"It still doesn't erase everything I've done to De-Midoriya," He angrily muttered.

"No, it doesn't," He placidly agreed. "But you can help me ensure that what happened here does not happen to any other students in the future. It's clear that your teachers actively constructed a toxic environment for you kids. They failed to correct your behavior and enacted institutional abuse against Midoriya by manipulating you and your peers. You already know that what this school is doing is wrong, so will you be willing to assist me in my investigation?"

"How?"

"You just need to answer a few questions about the teachers and their treatment of Midoriya," Naomasa flipped to a new page in his notebook. "For the record, this is an unofficial investigation. Anything you say here can not be used against you in a court of law. I also can't press you to answer anything you don't want, and I do not have the authority to interrogate you without a parent or guardian present. That said, it would really help if you cooperate as best as you can."

The kid's eyes glinted. He crossed his arms and sneered. "Of freaking course I'll help take down those slimy sonuvaguns. They tried to turn me into a villain and I ain't standing for it."

"Hm . . . But you don't believe that would happen, do you?"

Izuku snorted. This was the reason why he said he got his brains from his mother. "No. He's been more subdued since my return, and I've noticed the way he looks at our classmates and teachers. I don't doubt that he's realized that something is wrong with this school, but whether he'll admit it and help the Detective is another thing entirely."

His mother bobbed her head in a thoughtful nod. "So how long do you expect for this case to go on?"

"With Tsukauchi?" He wolfishly grinned. "A week. Tops."

Tsukauchi left the room that had been loaned for him by the school. Well, a cesspool would've been a better term to describe the place. Kami, one principal, four teachers, and all it took was a single kid for their lies to come crashing down like a house of cards. What was horrifying was that his quirk only faintly pinged for all the adults in the school, and the only time that happened was when people believed whole-heartedly that what they said was true, but in reality, it wasn't.

Case and point.

His fingers brushed over the worn wood of a beaten-up desk. In fact, it was the only desk in the entire classroom that looked like this. Nicks and little pieces of wood fell off here and here. Faint stain marks in the grooves of scared wood. Pocky dents in the metal legs. Yet in stark contrast to that, the surface of the desk was remarkably polished and carried the faint scent of lemon.

He ran his hand over the desk's neighbor.

The varnish was thinner on the first.

"So, Detective!" The homeroom teacher, Kasuka-sensei anxiously fixed his glasses and that plastic smile on his face. "Did you find everything you wanted? It's already been an entire day and classes have been out for hours at this point! Surely that should have been enough time to conclude your evaluation?"

"Well, only just a bit," Tsukauchi apologetically smiled. He caught the twitch in his eyelid, very minute, in what could only be described as annoyance. "You have to understand that we at the precinct are invested in the safety of the public. Midoriya's been through a lot - after all, being kidnapped for a month is nothing to sneeze at - and the psychologist we had on hand noticed he seemed very . . . Strange."

A glint entered the man's eyes like a vulture spotting a dead carcass. "Oh?" The man tried - and failed - to keep his tone even. There was a eager edge to it. Tsukauchi internally rolled his eyes at the man chomping at the bit to share information, blissfully unaware of the verbal trap the Detective put down. "Well, yes, Midoriya has always been such a problematic child."

"Oh?" He placidly responded.

"He's quite disruptive in class, always muttering during lessons and disturbing the workflow of the other students," The man quickly answered, the glee seeping into his expression. "Always getting into fights, that one. It's mainly because of those notebooks he carries - the one he has about others' quirks? A lot of students find it very uncomfortable and have tried persuading him to stop on numerous occasions, but, well, the boy is stubborn indeed and refuses to see reason. Always resorting to violence for his answers. We here at Aldera have tried to curb his delinquent tendencies multiple times, but I'm afraid there's not much else we can do for people like him."

His quirk pinged a couple of times, but he didn't call him out on it yet. He can't alert them that he knows that they're lying just yet, not until he can find solid evidence. So instead, he answers. "Hm, interesting. A history of violence you say?"

The man rapidly nodded his head. "Yes! Very violent! Why, just a few weeks ago he threatened one of peers that tried to comfort him about his kidnapping and found himself blackmailed instead!"

Tsukauchi nearly bit his tongue. Kidnapping?! Did these hacks tell their students that Midoriya was kidnapped?! That was highly classified information for the sake of protecting the victim from unwanted attention! The teachers were the only ones informed to ensure that they can properly address Midoriya's needs should the occasion present itself. The official story that was supposed to be told to the students was that he was hit with a civilian's quirk that put people to sleep for a month! (In a world of quirks, it's not the weirdest thing to have happened) What in the actual hell?!

He wanted to voice all of these concerns so badly. But he kept holding his tongue between his teeth and opted to nod. "Blackmailing?"

"Yes, it was a particularly terrible threat as well," Kasuka clicked his tongue in pity. "Midoriya said that he would sell that student's mother to a strip club. How scandalous!"

Tsukauchi felt his soul leave his body. Just a bit. He could sense that harsh ping that told him he was lying again. "That's a dire threat to make. You don't think it's possible that he is capable of that, do you?"

Is he being ridiculous by suggesting a fourteen-year-old child has the ability to kidnap a fully-grown woman and sell her into prostitution, much less have an incentive for doing so? Yes, yes he is. But he needed to keep this canary singing, no matter how fat and oily and decrepit the bird was. 

Kasuka scoffed. Disbelief and disgust mingled like thick sludge across his face. All traces of the sickly sweet sympathy from a moment ago were wiped away, like they never existed in the first place. "Of course not! It's Quirkless! There's not much they can do in the grand scheme of things -"

That giant lump Overhaul obtained from Midoriya smashing his head into the concrete says otherwise, He mournfully thought, and then clocked the way this teacher addressed his own student as 'it.'

"-there's not much of a future for him, he's Quirkless! In a society like ours, you surely understand that there's little hope for him to properly contribute to society, especially with behavior like his-!"

And now he's listening to a Quirkist manifesto. Why didn't he bring Aizawa on this case again?

Oh wait, that's right. He's got Endeavor banging on his door to see Shouto. Note to self: check up on them later and see if Mic and Eraser have more evidence to add to the Endeavor case file. 

It took a while, but he eventually managed to extract himself from the hack's teacher's ranting about the "uselessness" of the Quirkless. 

He obtained a recording of it at least. Time to add that to the file. 

Now the last group he had to interview before leaving, the one that Bakugou kid had pointed out would be - 

"Excuse me, you're the detective looking into Midoriya, right?"

He turned around. He was near the tool shed at the back of the school, where one of the janitors regularly hung out in. The man standing off to the side certainly was dressed in a janitor's uniform and what seemed to be a full body beetle mutation. That said, Tsukauchi was glad for the Police Academy augmenting those classes on reading the facial expressions and body languages for heavy mutant quirks, because he could tell that this man was tense but . . . hopeful?

Tsukauchi nodded. "Yes, that's me. Do you need something?"

"Mm," The janitor tapped his foot on the ground. "Just wanted to know. What do you think of this school so far?"

One of his antennae was quivering. He was wary, but the desperate hope never faded from his body language. 

It clicked for him. Ah. This is a test to see if he would help Midoriya while knowing he's Quirkless, like his mother had done to him at the precinct. So the correct move here would be . . .

Tsukauchi let his pleasant façade drop and channeled his inner Eraserhead to bluntly deliver, "It sucks and needs to be shut down. I've seen Quirk discrimination many times in my life, but - Kami - this school has to be on the top of my shizlist. The things I've heard about Midoriya from the teachers and his classmates is just . . ."

He let his scowl finish that sentence. The janitor let out an incredulous laugh and walked towards him, slapping him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Good to see that there's hope for this nation's police force! The others thought I was insane for approaching you, but you're one of the good guys, ain't ya?"

He let out a wry smile. "I try. Judging from your reaction, I'm guessing that you're rooting for Midoriya?"

The man nodded solemnly. "Kid's got a good head, a good heart, and a good future ahead of him, but this school keeps screwing him over because he ain't got a Quirk. Me and the others - we can't tell you how many times we've broken the kid out of locked closets and jammed lockers, slid him lunch when the other kids destroy his mom's bento, or cleared his desk from all the shiztastic writing scrawled there every morning. Then there's the red spider lilies - Kami, they make me sick just thinking about it! These are kids, but the teachers got no probs letting them tell this one kid to die just because he doesn't have some special power like the rest of them. And that's not even touching on all the bruises and broken bones they leave on the kid using their quirks!"

Tsukauchi sucked in a breath. It's the second time he's hearing it, but unlicensed public quirk usage, especially with intent to harm another without pretext of self-defense . . . 

"Kid was right," He muttered. "They really are raising villains."

The man growled. "Oh yeah. This school is breeding ground of 'em. The worst is that one boy in Midoriya's class with the explosion quirk. He keeps going on and on about getting into UA and becoming the Number One Hero, but he's the reason why Midoriya has so many burn scars. I caught a glimpse of his bare arm once when I was patching him up, you know? That entire limb was littered with handprint-shaped burn scars. Apparently they've known each other even before Aldera, like way before. There's no way you can let an abuser like him become a Hero." 

Tsukauchi recalled a recent case regarding a certain Flame Hero. The world didn't need another Endeavor, but thankfully enough, it didn't seem like there will be. Bakugou is aware of how terrible his actions were, and he's young, so there's still hope for him. 

Endeavor has a lot of things he still needs to own up to. What does it say when a literal child has more emotional maturity than the person who's held the Number Two position for decades?

"Bakugou's being taken care of," He answered. "His punishment will be decided once I'm able to confirm everything he's done. Speaking of which, you wouldn't mind gathering your coworkers to provide your testimonies in regards to the Quirk discrimination and mistreatment of Izuku Midoriya at Aldera Junior High?"

"Oh, I'll do that and more," The janitor whipped out a hard drive from his pocket. "Here, take this. It's got all the footage of the ratty things this school did to Midoriya in the past couple of years. Managed to transfer it over from the security room before they wiped it from their systems. We couldn't fit all of it because those darn things got limited storage and we're not rolling in dough, but it's definitely enough to bring the school down."

Tsukauchi blinked. He took the hard drive, wondering how the hell did he manage to get so lucky. "Thanks."

The man nodded. "Don't mention it."

"If you don't mind me asking. . . what made you come up with this?" Tsukauchi questioned. "Not to say that it's bad or anything, but typically people don't have this kind of foresight to compile evidence without knowing if a case will be opened."

"You got the kid to thank for that," He gruffly answered. "Quirks get used around here a lot, and it causes a lot of messes that we're forced to clean up. It's unpaid overtime because the school don't wanna acknowledge that they're allowing illegal quirk use on campus outside of the standard classes, and we can't do anything about it because there's not a lot of places that would hire folks like us. Midoriya saw this halfway through his first year here. He got us all hard drives and gave us a rundown of how to copy the tapes from the security room onto these babies before they get wiped. That way if any of us decided to sue the school in the future for breach in employment contract, we got the hard data to back it up. Kid didn't say anything about doing it for himself, so we covered it for him."

The Detective ran his fingers over the worn surface. "Amazing. This must have taken a long time to do."

He scoffed. "Too long."

Something in the janitor's expression wavered. His voice went quiet, a lot more vulnerable. ". . . Midoriya's always been pretty bright, you know? He smiles and shiz even when the world's against him. Been doing it for years, but you wouldn't know it now though. That explosion brat told him to off himself if he wanted a quirk, and I think he finally cracked. He's still as helpful as ever, but he ain't got that much sunshine left in him."

Tsukauchi frowned. ". . . What does this mean?"

The man snorted. "It means you take care of him after this, ya hear?"

He took a step back absolutely incredulous and sputtered, "Wait, what do you-?"

"Face it pal," The man patted his arm with a smug grin. "That kid's gonna adopt you as one of his parents. Trust me, it happens to everyone who spends a lick of time with him and doesn't judge him for being Quirkless. You'll be wrapped around his finger before you even know it!"

"To be honest, I feel like a couple of coworker friends fit the bill more than I ever will," Tsukauchi muttered, mind drifting to the Yamazawa's. 

"That's what we thought." The janitor grinned.

Tsukauchi sighed. He doubted it. Still, at least Midoriya would be easier to handle than the green-tinged chaotic kid vigilante he knows.

Chapter Text

Local Junior High Shut Down for Making their Students into Villains!

By Taneo Tokuda

During a surprise inspection of one Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi for a follow-up to a case, the Detective discovered something horrifying behind the walls of this seemingly normal junior high school. In today's society, villainy is defined as using one's quirk with the intent to harm or destroy a person or property, and that is exactly what Aldera Junior High was propagating in their curriculum: Teachers brainwashing their students to use their quirks to maim their classmates.

It was a shock to the nation when news broke out. Horrified parents demanded why this system ever existed in the first place, and it all boils down to a single destructive creed: Quirkism.

This school fully embraced the "might-equals-right" mentality to a terrifyingly cultish degree. The school encouraged those with "powerful" destructive quirks to use them on those with "weak" quirks, and the pleas for help from those with "weak" quirks fell on the deaf ears of their teachers. Even worse, the school falsely blamed the victims of these crimes for instigating these incidents, allowing the true perpetrators to run free. By doing so, they knowingly sabotaged the future of these victims during high school selection season, allowing those who deserve to be in good schools to be turned away because of doctored transcripts, and letting those who were encouraged to become villains take their place instead.

Multiple remedial programs have been set up to help the students in the aftermath of this horrifying event. Heroes from all over the country have declared their intent to help these students shun the corrupt teachings of Aldera Junior High.

"No child should have to grow up with the type of mentality these adults have wrongly burdened them with," All Might strongly declared. "The fact that this came from a school—an institution of learning and nurturing—astounded me! I hope we all keep in mind moving forward that these children are merely that—children. They still have a chance to grow and change, so I ask that we look to reformation rather than punishment for their deeds within the school."

More of this story on page 4 . . .

~*~

Nezu politely sipped his tea as his staff digested the information from the newspaper. Every member of his faculty was here. All Might had yet to arrive since they were still smoothing out the terms of his employment contract, but Nezu could discuss this with him during their next update on obtaining his teaching license.

"Seems sensationalist," Aizawa commented, placing the newspaper back onto the conference table. His face remained impassive, but Nezu has learned over the years how to read the facial tics of his faculty members—A furrowed brow. Narrowed eyes. Shoulders taut. The edges of his lips dipped down. The intense stare he sent to the newspaper. To anyone else, Shouta Aizawa seemed merely disgruntled. But for one of the most intelligent beings on this side of the Asian continent, his teacher was outright livid. "I take it we need to review all the applicants from Aldera Junior High?"

"Yes," Nezu answered. The smile he normally donned was absent, a tactical move made to emphasize the gravity of this situation. Teaching is his passion. His faculty was well aware of that long before they became part of his faculty. It was no secret that Nezu harbored a deep-seated hatred of the human race. Rightfully so after enduring experiment after experiment after experiment. Had it not been for that young child from so very long ago, he would have written off humanity as a lost cause. Perhaps in another world, a younger version of Nezu would set himself on the path of destroying the human race.

This is not that world. That child has proven there is still some good in humanity, and such precious seeds require care to bloom. There was a reason why he became an educator, after all.

And Nezu takes this position very seriously. Messing with one of his students, whether they were in GenEd or the Hero Course, was simply unacceptable. He vividly remembers one particular incident where a Hero Course Student was being abused by her father. He was the CEO of some triflingly large company that wanted to turn the girl into a celebrity-focused Hero like Uwabami to promote their business—a trophy Hero.

Suffice to say, it took one month for the mother to successfully file for divorce, obtain a restraining order, get full custody over her daughter, a new CEO instated (since power vacuums are quite the bother to deal with), and the student to transfer over to Business Course to pursue their true passion.

Apparently, she wanted to run her family's company, but her father simply refused because she wasn't male. The insistence of humans to uphold values that are often detrimental to themselves is quite astounding. After all, the business expanded overseas to Korea only thanks to her efforts.

That child was not the only one to face difficulties. Throughout his tenure at UA, Nezu has encountered many more "delicate" incidents. Children trapped in terrible situations, whether they be caused by their own family, a criminal enterprise, the failings of society, or perhaps orchestrated their own hands—Nezu has done all he can to remedy those situations for the sake of granting these fledglings the chance to seize a brighter future for themselves. It was his creed when he took up the mantle of an educator.

So to see that these humans cultivate such a destructive ideal in the seeds that would grow into the next generation, that they actively sought to sabotage the lives of their children to enforce a Social Darwinist agenda on the basis of quirks—

Aldera Junior High was very fortunate that Detective Tsukauchi reached them first.

"So how many applicants will we be reviewing?" Thirteen piped up.

"Two," Nezu deftly pulled out one manila folder and slid it across the table. The second was a thick binder that he plunked on the table with audible thunk. He could see all of his teachers eyeing that binder with bulging eyes.

"That's... a very large file..." Cementoss, Ishiyama, astutely observed.

"More like an encyclopedia," Vlad King, Kan, rubbed his chin in bafflement. "Were they writing this kid's entire biography or something?"

"On the contrary!" Nezu cheerily chimed. From the sudden flinch that rippled through his staff, he could tell that they all picked up on the dangerous undertone. Swell!

"A bulk of this file is made up of infractions supposedly caused by this applicant!" He congenienly patted the cover of the binder. "UA has a strict anti-bullying policy as you're all aware, and the sorting system automatically turns away any applications with more than three infractions or a single serious one. Originally, Izuku Midoriya was rejected by our systems because of the sheer number and magnitude of incidents—"

Aizawa stiffened in his seat. "Izuku Midoriya? Age fourteen, curly green hair, Quirkless?"

Everyone in the room immediately rounded on him with round eyes. Nezu merely smiled and popped open the flap on the binder. "Correct. The same Izuku Midoriya who was kidnapped by the Eight Precepts a few months ago, only to be rescued just a month ago. You were on the raid team because of Viridian's involvement, no?"

Yamada's jaw dropped. "Holy shiz! I thought I knew that name somewhere! You and Tsukauchi have that kid down as a potential one of Viridian's 'kids'!"

"His kids?" Power Loader inquired. "You don't mean... ?"

Aizawa groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "As in the children Viridian is keeping special tabs on. They have a tendency to be in bad situations, with bad home environments, and subsequently wind up fostered by me and Yamada. So far he's dropped two hellions on our laps. There is a third child he's looking for, a young girl about five to eight years of age named Eri. She was supposed to be at the Precept's base, but she escaped months ago and has yet to be found."

"And the Midoriya kid?" Ectoplasm rumbled.

"Someone that just so happened to be kidnapped by the Precepts while Viridian was investigating the Eri case," The tired man answered. "Viridian never took an interest to him prior to his kidnapping, so we never flagged Midoriya as a potential link to the vigilante. However, now I'm starting to question if any child that Viridian comes in contact with comes from a bad situation."

"Does this mean you and Yamada are about to have another ankle-biter runnin' around?" Snipe raised.

"No," Aizawa swiftly cut down. "Tsukauchi and I confirmed that his home is safe. He lives with a mother who cares deeply about her son, and his father moved to America when he was a toddler and hasn't been seen since. He sends over more than enough for child support at least, so the Midoriya's are experiencing no financial hardships either."

Kayama made a displeased noise and crossed her arms. "Ugh, I wanted more nephews too. Speaking of which, I have yet to meet little Hitoshi and Shouto and finally take up the role of their aunt, as I ought to be!"

Ectoplasm cleared his throat. "We're getting off topic here."

"Thank you, Ectoplasm!" Nezu shuffled the papers out of the binder. "As I was saying, there are many incidents recorded on Izuku Midoriya's file. Their validity has come into question in light of the case surrounding Aldera Junior High, so I decided to personally vet them. Through careful cross-referencing of files from other students named in these incidents, as well as information from Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi due to the nature of this case, I have concluded that most—if not all—of these statements false."

Majima's jaw dropped. "Kami, that's—how many incidents did they write up?!"

"Four hundred and forty-nine," Nezu thinly smiled. "There seems to be an uptick in the past year, interestingly enough."

Inui, Hound Dog growled. "Just in time for high school applications. A file like that would've ruined the kid's chance to get into any high school except reform schools!"

They all grimaced. Reform schools were what students went to post-juvie, or had so many disciplinary infractions on their records that no other school would be able to accept them. It's no secret that the reform schools in Japan weren't... the best. At all. For an innocent kid to go there would mean...

"Okay, so we've got one little listener down," Yamada snapped them all out of the horror. "What about the other one?"

Nezu's smile turned even thinner. "Katsuki Bakugou. According to the record Aldera sent us, he's a model student. Stellar academic transcripts. A flashy, destructive quirk named Explosion. Helpful, passionate, kind, with a strong sense of justice and a history of standing up to bullies even. Glowing reviews by faculty and staff."

"Except... ?" Cementoss trailed off.

Nezu closed his eyes and hummed. "In my own investigation of him, he's proven to be brash, egotistical, and has physically, verbally, and psychologically abused Izuku Midoriya throughout his stay at Aldera. What is worse is that most altercations included the use of his quirk, resulting in severe burns that were untreated by the school."

Every single one of the teacher's hackles raised.

"We turn him away," Aizawa glowered. "Unlicensed public quirk usage, especially to harm a civilian, is grounds for arrest even at his age."

"There is no way we can let a kid like that into UA," Kayama definitively declared. "I don't care if Aldera influenced him to be that way, it's still his choice to hurt another person and he went through with it. No if's, and's, or but's about it."

"I'm afraid I must contest with you there, Kayama," Nezu ruefully announced. His faculty exploded into a fury of protests, each voice overlapping the other until it was a cacophony of noise.

Nezu pointedly cleared his throat. They all instinctively stilled. A significant look sent in everyone's direction begrudgingly settled them into their seats once more. The principal stared solemnly to each member of his faculty, at their disquieted and uneasy countenances, and confessed, "Initially, I agreed with all of you. UA should deny an applicant such as this. However, I have information from Detective Tsukauchi that brings me to pause."

"What on this goshdarn green planet could convince ya otherwise?!" Snipe remarked.

"Well," Nezu took out another file. "It would be that Katsuki Bakugou played a key role in reporting all of Aldera's crimes, and has confessed to every single action he's taken against Izuku Midoriya since they were both young without any prompting whatsoever."

A pin drop could be heard in the room.

Kan struggled to find his words first. "You're saying that Bakugou was the one who reported the abuse and neglect at Aldera? It would sabotage his future! Why would he do it? He wasn't blackmailed or anything of the sort, was he?"

"On the contrary, it was all voluntary," Nezu answered, sliding the file over to his staff. "Katsuki Bakugou may not have been the one to report Aldera's gross misconduct in guiding their students, but he did play a crucial role in convicting the school. In there is a signed testimony detailing all of Aldera's wrongdoings by Katsuki Bakugou. The next few pages report on his progress in the remedial therapy courses all Aldera students are required to attend. As you can see, he's far ahead in the course. The guidance counselors remark on his extreme dedication to improving himself. I also have a good source telling me that he genuinely regrets everything he's done and honestly strives to improve."

"I don't buy it," Kan scowled. "It could be an act. Kid might be scrambling to save his own hide. Aldera got busted for abuse, and so now he's confessing to get off with a lighter punishment."

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "There's more to this, isn't there? Even with the precedents stated, you wouldn't allow a student such as this to enter UA. General Education would already be a stretch, but if he's planning on going to Heroics—"

Nezu held a paw up. "You are quite right. Even with his help in the case against Aldera, I would still deny him entry into our halls. I was persuaded otherwise by none other than the victim of this case—Izuku Midoriya."

"Victims of long-term abuse may not blame their abusers—!" Kan argued.

"—Yet Izuku Midoriya is fully aware of how unjust his treatment at the hands of Katuski Bakugou is, and has no intentions on shifting the blame to anyone but the perpetrator himself," The Principal smoothly answered. "I called Midoriya and his mother to come in for a meeting with me yesterday. Originally, it was to inform that the rejection on Midoriya's application has been rescinded and he can freely take the Heroics exam as he so desired, but the question of what is to become of Katsuki Bakugou came up."

Nezu pulled out yet another file before placing it on the table. "They asserted that as the primary victims of Bakugou's bullying to at least have a say on what happens. I agreed to humor them, but ah, well... " He slipped a paper out of the folder. "They made some very pressing arguments. The first and most obvious that all of us can agree on is that there is fault that lies on Aldera's faculty for enabling his abusive behavior. He was not stopped, corrected, or had any reason to believe that his actions were wrong."

The rest of the room grumbled darkly, but begrudgingly agreed.

"The second is that Bakugou was once a bully and is now actively seeking change. This provides two points. The first being that he is no longer the same person as before that seeks to hurt another without valid reason. The second is the value of having a person such as he become a Hero."

"What do you mean?" Thirteen asked.

"As all of you are aware," The Principal began. "All men are equal until the age of four, when quirks begin to manifest. While Aldera may be an extreme example of this notion, it is by no means an uncommon one. Many of you are personally aware of this."

The room fell silent. Yamada absently rubbed the faint scar on the side of his cheek where a muzzle dug into it at a foster home. Aizawa's shoulders tensed, memories of being called a 'villain' and 'weak' on a playground flashed through his mind. Thirteen grimaced as they remembered the day their quirk came in and accidentally destroyed half of a shopping mall. Kan recalled how he had been labeled for having a 'creepy' blood quirk. Snipe ran a hand over his gun, knowing how his quirk had been called 'useless' before he got his hands on a support item. Ectoplasm and Inui scared people with their mutations. Hajime and Ken scared people to a lesser extent, but most people found their skewed proportions uncomfortable. Kayama grimaced as she recalled all the times her quirk went haywire as a child and put everyone in the vicinity to sleep, and how everyone kept a twenty-meter berth because of it. 

"The reason why I hired you was to show another side to Heroics. Society has taken a look at each of your quirks and deemed you unfit for Heroics," Nezu grandly gestured to all of them. "And yet here you are. Some of the best of the best. You inspire the next generation of children with so-called 'villainous', 'weak', or 'unwieldy' quirks that, they too, can achieve their dreams, whether they want to be Heroes or otherwise. But as it stands, you merely represent one portion of the equation—the underdogs. As encouraging as an underdog story may be, we are still considered as part of the 'minority'. Society tends to gloss over the atrocities committed against us because it is accepted as 'normal'. We are all aware of how poorly the Quirkless is treated, yet none of us actively go out of our way to improve the lives of each individual."

The sufficiently brought the mood down. Nezu could see the underlying guilt in each and every single one of their faces. Brutal perhaps, but necessary to get his point across.

"Still, that isn't to say we can't assist where we can. We can begin with Izuku Midoriya for one," Nezu continued. "Society has been desensitized to the suffering of those in minority groups. Yet what happens when one of the groups who suffers from this system is supposedly the one who is meant to benefit the most? Katsuki Bakugou embodies this example perfectly. He has a flashy quirk believed fit for Heroics, but his teachers allowing his violent personality to go unchecked sabotaged his prospects of being admitted into UA. Even if Aldera was never exposed and Bakugou was accepted, he would have been kicked out of the Hero Course for behavior alone. He's well aware of that fact. If someone like him were to become a Hero and show how he's been hurt by society—"

"These are kids—!" Aizawa roared.

Nezu sharply looked at him. "And I am well aware of it. Thank you for ensuring that I can clearly see the boundary before I cross it, but I would be disappointed if you believe that I would push an agenda upon an unwilling participant. I am merely stating that the direction Bakugou is heading, he would likely lead him to advocate against bullying and Quirkist agendas on his own. Much like how you all incorporated your past struggles in your careers as Heroes."

They... couldn't deny that. Everyone knows that Mic goes around orphanages, group homes, and organizes events for foster kids. Hell, he and Aizawa had foster licenses to get kids out of bad homes like they were in. Nem had her foray into high school panels about consent, and helped many programs surrounding victims of domestic and sexual abuse. Snipe and Power Loader were back to back in promoting the importance of support items in the Hero Industry.

"However, this is all merely if Bakugou passes the entrance exams in the first place," Nezu finally admitted. "The Midoriya's, especially Izuku Midoriya, only wishes for him to have a chance to succeed. Whether he will pass the exam is up to him. And even if he does qualify, he will have to comply with the strict guidelines and restrictions we set."

Kayama lifted one eyebrow. "Like what?"

Nezu picked up a paper and read the list. "For example—"

~*~

"—if you are accepted as a Heroics Student, you will then be placed in General Studies and allowed to come to the Hero-specific courses," Ai-something, Katsuki was really trying not to call him 'Hobo Man' even if that is what he looks like. "Likewise, you will be forced to sit out on any practical exercise that does not revolve around rescue or safety training. You will be with UA's Rescue Specialist, the Pro Hero Thirteen, for specialized instruction during those times. UA's guidance counselor, Hound Dog, will also be there as an observer to monitor your progress. If your attitude does not significantly improve by the end of the semester, then you may be transferred to General Studies or kicked out of UA altogether. These stipulations will be lifted once UA has received word from your therapist that you are no longer a danger to yourself or others. Any public use of a quirk without prior authorization from the staff is liable for expulsion or suspension. Attacking another person, on or off campus, with the intent to cause bodily harm without appropriate justification will result in immediate expulsion. The rules for public quirk usage are the same for every student in all schools, which Aldera has neglected to address. Refer to the UA student handbook if you attend UA, and you will be fine. This is non-negotiable," The Scarf Man (there, that's better and less insulting, isn't it?) finally looked up from that stupid sheet of paper he was reading off of like a zombie. He set down the packet on the coffee table before them with a pen. "Please sign if you understand these terms. If you do not, then it is understood that you will forfeit your ability to take the UA entrance exam for any of the four courses. Should you choose to be placed in any course outside of Heroics, the terms above will still apply without the special instruction sessions from Thirteen, as you will not be training to become a Hero. Do you have any questions?"

The old ha—his mother raised a hand. "What about his coursework with the guidance counselor? Even at the rate they say he's improving, he won't be able to complete it before the semester begins."

Scarf Man nodded. "He will be expected to commit to the remedial therapy course from Aldera and the one-hundred hours of community service mandated by the courts even after acceptance. These also need to be completed before the end of the school year, or you may need to be transferred to GenEd. UA has many community service opportunities that you can choose from, and some of your lessons with Thirteen can make up for fifteen of them at most."

"Will the other kids know about his involvement with Aldera?" His mother pressed.

"No," Scarf Man decisively said. "Releasing details of the case, such as his identity, breaks Japan's confidentiality laws protecting minors. The only ones who are required to be aware of your son's status are the faculty. If anyone asks, UA will explain that his unique situation is due to underlying health concerns. Likewise, if Izuku Midoriya were to get into UA, Midoriya will be allowed to explain the events that happened at Aldera to his peers, but he can not name Bakugou as a tormentor unless threatened. UA already explained this to Midoriya, and he and his mother agreed. That said, I can't do anything if any of the other students find out and news spreads. However, we can ensure that the non-discrimination and anti-bullying policies still apply to Katsuki Bakugou, and the other party will be promptly dealt with as per handbook regulations. I can assure you, this will be an issue that you and your family will likely face no matter which high school you apply too. Just remember your rights as a student. Any other questions?"

Katsuki took a deep breath. He was silent throughout this whole conversation. He'd been rejected from every other high school he'd applied to, both Hero and normal, the moment they saw he was from Aldera Junior High with a black mark on his record. It didn't matter if he fully cooperated with the Aldera investigation. It didn't matter if De—Izuku didn't press any charges. It didn't matter how much effort he threw into the remedial therapy courses the state had him attend, because it just wasn't good enough. He deserved it with all the abuse he put his ex-friend through. He honestly expected UA to be the same as the other schools because they wanted the best of the best, and he was the worst of the worst.

So,

"Why are you giving me this chance?" Katsuki asked. "You know what I've done. It isn't something a Hero would do."

"It isn't."

The boy held back a flinch. Katsuki knew that he wasn't Hero material, but hearing confirmation of it still hurts.

Scarf Man sighed. "But apparently Midoriya believes you've still have a shot at becoming one. He came to UA to advocate on your behalf."

Katsuki jolted. The anger flared up instinctively (I don't need that worthless nerd's help!), before the fire flooding through his system was replaced with ice-cold dread. He did what the counselors told him and clammed his mouth shut. He wordlessly slipped on his specialized pair of gloves. He let his quirk pop in muted fireworks, perfectly harmless and away from destroying anything of importance, and he started doing the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. The inferno of his anger smoldered. He let out a breath. He turned to his dad, and he held up his phone displaying the stopwatch function.

"Five minutes," His dad patted his shoulder, eyes crinkling as he smiled proudly. "You beat your previous record by a whole thirty seconds."

Katsuki looked at his gloved hands. He flexed them. Better to keep the gloves on.

Scarf Man passively watched the entire thing without so much as an eye twitch. It unnerved him he wanted to punch that face in.

"So?" Scarf Man asked.

Katsuki looked down at the paper and the pen. His parents were silent, hovering, but ultimately leaving the decision up to him. He took a deep breath.

~*~

"When I get bigger, I wanna be Heroes with Kacchan!"

"Then hurry up and get your quirk already, you stupid Deku! That way we can start training to become the best of the best!"

"Yeah! We'll be the best Hero Duo ever!"

"I'm gonna be the Number One Hero, Lord Explosion Murder! With his sidekick, the Number Two Hero, Mighty Junior!"

" ...  Kacchan?"

"Yeah, Deku?"

"What happens if I don't get a quirk? Or if my quirk isn't strong like yours is?"

"Hah?! You got those weird notebooks, don't you?! If anyone's gonna figure out how to use some lame-brain quirk to bash someone's head in, it'll be you! And if you don't get a quirk, you'll be my smart person! Like   Sir NightEye is to All Might!"

" Really? You mean it, Kacchan?"

"Stupid Deku, of course I mean it! We're going to be Heroes one day, no matter what!"

Chapter Text

Mikumo Akatani stared at the large, impressive gates of UA towering above him. The letters glittered gaudily in the winter sun. Ten months ago, he would've been ecstatic to be standing before the greatest Hero school in Japan, chasing silly dreams of becoming a Hero.

And now? Now he's ecstatic to be here, but for a different reason than that starry-eyed past. It's funny how much things can change in a mere ten months.

He took a deep breath and walked to the General Education exams with his head held high.

For the sake of a brighter future without Heroes.

~*~

Izuku Midoriya stared up at the overshadowing archway into UA High. He went misty-eyed with nostalgia. Old pains and lost loves tangled together in a cluttered mess that hung around his heart like a noose. There were many memories held here. So many things he could have had but realized too late. UA turned into ashes by then. Nothing but blood and rubble to mark the once-great monument of Japan's Hero Industry.

Again, it was his fault. It seems like a lot of things are his fault nowadays. Eri's disappearance, Katsuki's near-rejection from UA, and he recently found out that Shinsou ended up in a quirk trafficking ring because Izuku busted his previous foster parents, who were part of a gang he raided as Viridian a while back-

He slapped his cheeks. Nope, not going there. Mom said to think positive things by counting his previous accomplishments. Hitoshi has been adopted by the Yamazawa's. Shouto is in protective custody. He found Toga and Dabi and Mei. His mom is no longer dead. He brought down the Eight Precepts and punched Chisaki just like he promised Eri (too bad he didn't take a picture of it). He took down Aldera Junior High, which was always a fun time.

He breathed out. There we go. He's doing good! Great, even! All he needs to focus on now is taking the Heroics Exam and—

His toe stubbed against a loose stone on the ground. The bricks rushed up to him as he tipped forward, but he swiftly planted his other foot in front of himself to counterbalance and corrected his fall. A tingle shot up his spine before he jumped away and quickly rounded on them with his guard up.

Wide, innocent brown eyes stared back at him. Izuku's breath caught. The girl with brown eyes glanced down at the hand gripping her wrist and politely said, "Um, would you mind letting go?"

Izuku ripped his hand away as if he was burned and blurted, "Sorry, I just—I guess I'm more nervous than I expected. Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine!" She beamed, even as Izuku quickly inspected her wrist for any bruising. "Sorry, I promise I wasn't trying to spook you. I tried to use my quirk to make you float when I saw you trip, because it's bad luck to trip before a big exam, right? Though it looks like you didn't need any help with reflexes like that!"

"Thanks," he muttered, mind whirling. What were the odds? He bowed. "I'm Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you!"

"Ochako Uraraka, nice to meet you too!" she cheerily responded.

Someone bumped into Izuku, and they stumbled back, muttering an apology.

Izuku looked up and did a double take because, holy shiz, what are these odds?

"My apologies," Shouto Todoroki - the Shouto Todoroki in all of his heterochromatic glory- politely murmured, rubbing his arm with his gaze set to the ground. He looked positively pasty. His skin was pallid. His gait was wavering. Deep eyebags set beneath his tired, glassy eyes that seemed to focus on everything and nothing at once.

Izuku's eye twitched. He swore to Kami that if Aizawa and Yamada weren't doing their duty to take care of him, he was gonna—!

"A-Are you alright?" Uraraka, ever the empath, asked Shouto in muted horror. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," he flatly answered, blearily blinking his eyes.

Izuku narrowed his gaze. "You're about to fall over."

"I'm fine," the exhausted boy hissed.

The green-headed ex-villain merely raised one eyebrow. "You are about to take one of the most difficult entrance exams in the entire country, which consists of an academic portion three hours long and a highly intensive practical spanning another two. You will forfeit any hope of succeeding as sleep-deprived as you are. Come on. The test doesn't start for a half hour. There should be a place on campus for you to take a short nap."

"I don't need any help," Shouto half-heartedly muttered as Izuku dragged him into UA.

"Well too bad, because we're going to give it to you!" Uraraka softly cheered, making sure to keep her volume lowered for Todoroki's sake.

From Izuku's experience in his past life and knowledge of the other boy's background, the green-haired teen expected Shouto to put up more of a resistance. As it stands, he barely struggles as he's being dragged by two strangers his age to who knows where. Perhaps he was too tired to protest in the first place and decided to go along with it.

That sounded like the most likely option, actually...

The trio stopped underneath a large tree in the middle of a small field. There were other UA hopefuls loitering around the area, mainly cracking open study guides and doing some last-minute revising for their exams. Perfect.

He and Uraraka steered Todoroki over to the lush grass at the base of the huge maple. She coaxed him to sit as Izuku shed his hoodie and folded it up into a makeshift pillow. He plopped it on the ground and said, "Here. Sleep."

Apparently, Todoroki needed no further prompting. His head slammed on the dark purple hoodie, and he was out like a light. His chest rose, and he fell slowly into deep sleep.

He and Uraraka both shared a look. "That was..."

"... Yeah." Izuku frowned.

"Maybe he has pre-test jitters?" She frowned, still staring at the slumbering boy in concern. "Or he could've studied late last night and lost track of time."

"It could be," he murmured, eyes quickly roving over Sleeping Beauty's appearance, trying to puzzle together the reason behind his exhaustion. He sighed and shelved the issue for later. Whatever the cause was, he couldn't do much about it now. All he could do now was ensure that Todoroki could catch as much rest as he could before the exams began.

"Sooooooooo," Uraraka awkwardly broached. "I noticed you're not wearing a school uniform! Were you homeschooled?"

Izuku rubbed his neck absentmindedly. "Uh, yeah. I've been going to school online. You look like you're from... Musutafu Junior High?"

"Yeah!" She raised a fist and punched the air. "I transferred there in the spring for my final year of junior high. I was hoping to get used to the area since there are a lot of good high schools that offer plenty of scholarships, including UA! I also applied to another Hero school near here in case I don't pass, because this is UA and that acceptance rate is insane—"

"Don't," Izuku cut in. Uraraka sent him a weird look, but he shook his head. "Don't apply to that other school. I know the one you're talking about. Outekkou Heroics Institute?"

She nodded, her bafflement melting into curiosity.

His expression turned grim. "All students, upon graduation, are required to be employed by one of twenty Hero Agencies that privately fund the school for a minimum of five years with a promise of going Pro right afterward."

"Right..." she said, still confused.

"The thing is—" he turned his gaze sharply to her—"all those agencies are corrupt and will force you into criminal dealings and blackmail you to keep doing them after you go Pro, otherwise they'll anonymously send the evidence over to their police contacts to have them 'deal' with you without getting their hands dirty. And even if you do comply, you'll amount to nothing more than a puppet for publicity stunts at best and a scrape goat for their crimes at worst. It's not worth it."

Her jaw dropped. "Wh-wha—? H-How do you—?"

"I noticed a pattern of supposedly corrupt Pro Heroes that were busted over the years that happened to be the graduates of a certain school. A bit more research, and, well, it wasn't that difficult to put two and two together. I'll admit that I extrapolated on some portions, but that should be a rough overview of what's been going on in the school." He shrugged. "I'm good with information."

Well, that was the lie. Sort of. The information itself was true, but the method he used to obtain the information was anything but. It's ironic that he's the one telling her all this. In the previous timeline, Uraraka transferred to Outekkou for her third year after UA fell. It was the only place she could afford to go to since all the other schools began favoring flashy, destructive quirks to combat the villain assaults, and Zero Gravity wasn't exactly either of those.

She fell into the golden trap all graduates faced. Only instead of bending over, she fought. She collected information throughout her third year with the intent of turning it over to the police, but then the Nomu outbreak happened, and, well, there wasn't anything left to expose.

It's funny how she's looking at him like he's the one who should be credited for all that sleuthing.

"W-wow. I didn't—I didn't know," she breathed. "Is there anyone you can go to about it?"

He hummed. "Not without any evidence. Everything I said is just conjecture. I'm sure Principal Nezu would have a fun time razing the school to the ground, though."

"Huh," she murmured, still stunned. Then she gestured to all of him and said, "All this—that information dump you just did—is that your quirk? Something to do with intelligence and analyzing things?"

Now, if this was the Izuku Midoriya of the previous timeline, he'd be bowing his head and stuttering away the answer in shame. Mikumo Akatani would simply state it as if he was stating that the sun was out that day. Deku would maniacally laugh in spiteful glee when the Heroes realized that a Quirkless teenager had bested them, someone everyone believed would never amount to anything at all.

That said, he barred all of his canines in a grin and simply said, "Nope. This is pure brainpower. You don't need a quirk to do amazing things. I'm proof of that, and I'm Quirkless."

And there it was. The shock. The jaw-drop. That gobsmacked expression, that shift in the eyes as she sees him in an entirely different light. He's pleased that there's no malice or disgust in those warm browns, though. A flash of pity, but it's quickly exchanged for skepticism when Uraraka seemed to remember what he just told her about Outekkou. He could still see the doubt in her eyes regarding his abilities, though. It's better than how most people reacted to finding out about his Quirklessness, and he couldn't fault her for being raised to think that quirks were everything.

"So you're Quirkless, and you're taking the entrance exam to UA's Heroics Course," she finally said.

He closed his eyes and hummed, "Mmhm."

"Okay, so, stop me if this sounds rude, but why not become a detective instead? You certainly have the intelligence for it."

Now, Izuku could go off on some long-winded spiel about how it's to fight this Quirkist system by being the first Quirkless Hero to ever exist and absolutely own it, like the Izuku Midoriya of his past life had intended before his mother died... But frankly, he doesn't have the energy. So he just settled on the one phrase that summed up his entire life, both this one and his past one: "Because I can."

She blinked. Then balked once she realized he wasn't going to open his mouth again. "Wait, that's it?"

"Yup," he answered, leaning his head back against the tree. "Anyways, we should wake this guy up and head inside. There's five minutes before the test, and it takes two minutes to get to the testing centers."

"Wait, hold on, are we just not going to talk about this—?!"

Izuku patted Todoroki's cheek and sang, "Wakey, wakey~! We have an exam to get to~!"

The heterochromatic boy groaned and turned his head, burying it into the hoodie pillow. "No... Not another cat video, Shinsou..."

Izuku deftly ignored the tumultuous emotions that arose from the mention of his name. Izuku covered it up with a snort instead. "Ah, well. At least I warned you."

Without any preamble, Izuku hooked his arms under Todoroki's body and princess-carried him into the building. Uraraka gave up trying to get him to talk and scrambled to get their belongings instead, trotting in after them.

~*~

Katsuki watched as Deku walked into the building with two extras surrounding him. Some happy chick and a candy cane guy who looked dead on his feet buzzed around him (well, the chick was flitting around Deku, the other guy? Not so much).

That could have been you. You could've walked into the UA entrance exam together like you both promised when you were three. But you're not because you're a villain, and all you did was hurt him over and over and OVER—

He took a deep breath as he trudged to his testing hall. Bile toiled in his gut and threatened to expel from his mouth. An annoying part of him still believed he deserved to be here. An even more annoying part believed he did not. Not with his abrasive attitude and a quirk that can only hurt. The dichotomy between the soaring pillars he set his sights on and the crumbling foundations of himself made him sick to his stomach.

He didn't deserve to be here, but Deku—Izuku believed he should. Ten years of abusing the nerd, and he still wants to help. Idiot.

He's thankful he's angry he wants to scream if he's trying to torture him with the guilt even though he knows logically he isn't and he doesn't know what to think anymore

He took a deep breath, just like the therapist taught him. He instinctively wanted to use his quirk to let off some steam, but he knew the rules. Public quirk use without any permission means getting kicked out of here. Getting kicked out means losing his one shot at becoming a Hero. That means he'll have to be a good little extra and play nice.

"Hey, have you—?"

Katsuki whirled around and snarled, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"

The person behind him stilled. He stared at him with wide, purple eyes that carried deep bags, looking like a startled cat. Katsuki belatedly realized he had blown up and started doing his breathing exercises, letting his anger seep out of him before he made another wrong move.

Because that's what it is, right? A wrong move.

He hisses out a harsh breath between his teeth. "Sorry," he bit out, face scrunching up with the effort. Ugh, it's so weird having to apologize to an extra person. "You were asking?"

Zombie—no, Purple Eyes—goddangit, none of those sound right—Eyebags stared at him warily. "You see a guy with half-red, half-white hair? Split evenly down the middle to either side? Looks more sleep-deprived than I am?"

Katsuki grunted when he realized who he was talking about. "He was being dragged by De—Izuku Midoriya into another building with this brown-haired chick a few minutes ago."

His eyes flashed with concern before darting over his shoulder.

He sighed. "Look, there ain't anything shady going on. Guy who was dragging him probably took one look at your buddy's sleep-deprived face and decided to help him to the testing site. I've known D—Izuku all my life. He's more likely to get pummeled than do the pummeling."

Only that's not true since ten months ago, isn't it?

He shoved that thought out of his head. Eyebags still looked suspicious, but he nodded. "Mm. Yeah. Thanks for the help."

Katsuki snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

~*~

Hitoshi walked towards the building that the angry blonde guy pointed to. He and Shouto were separated this morning after Aizawa and Yamada dropped them off. He swore he only turned around a second to get their canned coffee from the vending machine, and then all of a sudden, Shouto disappeared. Just like that. How the hell he lost an entire, socially awkward, sleep-deprived teenager five seconds away from eating dirt is beyond him.

He grimaced.

Then again, how anyone could've slept after the cluster fudge that was yesterday was lost to him.

"Shouto," Aizawa stiffly said. It was after breakfast. The table was clear, Loudmouth was demanding attention, and Hitoshi had MSPD wrapped around his shoulders like a living scarf. Brat was trying to claw Shouto's ankles under the table, but he was wearing thick jeans that were 100% claw-proof.

Shouto's face was carefully blank. "Endeavor wants to see me today, correct?"

Aizawa's mouth pressed into a thin line. Yamada's hand was shaking in rage.

"Yes." The tired Pro took in a deep breath. "But he only has an hour. Just like all the other times. We have ice cream, pillows, blankets, and the Ghibli movie collection for you right afterwards. Fuyumi and Natsuo can come over too."

The boy numbly nodded. "Shinsou, you can use your quirk on me if I start panicking again?"

"Just say the word, and I'll do it." He wryly grinned, strained as it was. "I mean it. I need a response for my quirk to work."

He hoped that the small joke would help ease the tension, but it didn't seem to work. Shouto still looked like he was on the cusp of dissociating.

"Shouto," Yamada softly said. "Do you want to grab my hand? Or would you rather have a cat?"

"Cat," he mumbled.

Hitoshi wasted no time in scooping Sushi as she passed by and dumped her onto his lap. Shouto curled up to her, fingers digging into her thick coat. She didn't let out her usual mewl of protest and let the boy do what he wanted.

No one had the heart to separate them as they got into the car and drove to neutral grounds— the HPSC headquarters. They had private rooms that Heroes could use for consulting the workers there, but it was also handy for things best kept behind closed doors.

Things like the Number Two Hero's domestic abuse scandal.

Hitoshi wasn't allowed in the room, so he couldn't see what happened. But he didn't need to be in there to know what happened.  

Shouto came out wide-eyed and looking like a ghost, silent as a grave. Aizawa and Yamada both looked like they were moments away from turning back and charging into the room to murder the Number Two Hero.

Hitoshi passed Sushi over to Shouto. She didn't complain as she became his personal teddy bear that he was tenderly hugging the life out of.

They made it back to the car in silence.

"So," Hitoshi said, trying to break the tension. "What movie do you want to watch first?"

"Ponyo," Shouto automatically answered, staring at his clenched hands with a million-mile stare. "She escaped her controlling father in the end."

Hitoshi really wanted to brainwash Endeavor into walking off a cliff. And into the sea. With sharks. It would be the perfect time, considering it's still winter.

He sighed. Despite everyone's best efforts, Shouto was still shaken up over what happened yesterday. He was tight-lipped over what they talked about like all the previous meetings, but Hitoshi could take guess. It likely had something to do with Hitoshi taking Shouto's spot at the recommendation exams. Yamada heard through the grapevine that Endeavor would be attending since the Number 2 Hero sponsored the kid of one of his sidekicks. It was a very blatant attempt to get near Shouto without incurring any legal trouble, since he could claim plausible deniability as the sponsor of another UA candidate. Thank Kami Yamada heard about it in time. They were all able to arrange with the school and board to have Shouto take the general entry exams instead, and that freed up a slot for Hitoshi to take. He didn't understand why Aizawa and Yamada were hell-bent on having him take the recommendation exams as opposed to the regular one, but the only response he got was:

"Trust me, kid. It's better this way. There's a reason why I had to go through the Sports Festival to get transferred into the Heroics Course," Aizawa vaguely answered.

Well, he took it. He got in. Got the letter last month. All that insane Spartan training with Eraserhead and Present Mic paid off, and now he'll be going to UA as a Hero Student. The thought made him giddy every single time it entered his mind.

Normally at least. Right now, he's got a sleep-deprived teen who got dragged off by two unknown people to find, and if they hurt him, Hitoshi was going to kill everyone in that room and then himself—!

He peeked through the glass window of the examination hall. He easily spotted Shouto's distinctive two-toned hair, located somewhere near the front. With a sigh, Hitoshi realized that he made it to his testing site on time.

Kami, he needed a drink.