Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run.

Don't you dare to stop.

Run.

The icy night breeze hit Izuku's face and his bare limbs covered in sweat while the thin nightgown that had long since ceased to be white was shaken by the frantic movement of his legs. His feet burned raw from running barefoot on concrete, embedded in pebbles and other things that he couldn't identify feeling it at every step, but he honestly didn't care, at least not right now.

That he was running for his life.

Literally.

He could hear the strong and heavy footsteps of his pursuer following him from behind, being separated by a shorter distance than he would like. They had been trapped in this situation for an unpleasant time and Izuku thanked for the strong adrenaline that ran like lava through his veins, because he was sure that several minutes ago he had passed his limits and that was not pretty.

He skilfully fluent through some corners like it was about a maze and if he was honest he had no idea where he was going, just straight ahead and right, the farther the better and without stopping. He could hear furious curses behind him at the same time as a blow that Izuku interpreted as a fall that he considered a small victory, but he didn't dare to look back to confirm, although it was the most probably considering that they had sent the first guy they had on hand who was certainly a bit big. He didn't have absence of strength and speed, that was easily noticed, but he lacked agility, a not very intelligent selection that Izuku appreciated. Fast and light as he was, he could jump trash cans and sudden corners easily taking advantage of momentum and his flexibility, but a heavy guy would have to brake if he didn't want to waste time, which was counterproductive.

So with a feeling of self-sufficiency dancing in his gut, he took advantage of the extra seconds, located a blind spot that was built nearby, and although he really did not want to, he activated his- the quirk and quickly climbed a fire escape two by two to the roof of a building, and propelling himself correctly he continued his escape through the roofs.

If he was honest with himself, he had no idea how he was able to escape them . Sure, he had a plan, but they usually didn't turn out the way he wanted, or rather never, so he assumed today was his lucky day. Perhaps if he got out of this inconvenient situation alive he would proclaim it his lucky day, even though he didn't dare claim victory just yet. Besides, he also had to find out what day it was, but that was not important.

He was almost mad at how easy it was this time, wanting to scream and rip his hair out of hysteria. Perhaps it was due to the passage of time, considering that the last time he tried to escape was too long ago, a vague and distant memory, however, the consequences of that attempt, his disobedience and insolence were quite etched, both in his mind and in his skin. And now remorse twisted his gut in a nauseating way, incriminating him because he hadn't tried again before.Yes, it had been weeks of meticulous and arduous planning, but at the time of execution it had been so quick and easy . He had only had to wait for the right time, on the right day, in the right place and with the right person. The minute the omnipresent eyes that watched him like they wanted to pierce the ground drifted away long enough to take off. Sure, he had to knock out one or two people, but he was finally able to run until a night sky surrounded by a blanket of stars greeted him from a distance.

When the ruckus started from his lack of presence, he was far enough away not to be detected.

Well, until they sent one of his thugs and despite being able to dodge him, he always managed to run into him again successfully and the situation was getting fucking annoying, to say the least.

So again, he had had to use the quirk that had been implanted in his being against his will as if it were just another organ and since everything has its consequences, the action was overwhelming him.

The grueling exhaustion was not yet present, but he could feel the imaginary knives stab into his head and the unpleasant taste of bile that threatened to expel the little he had eaten these days scraped his throat, mixed with the metallic taste of the blood that ran through his nose down to lips that he wasn't going to bother cleaning.

He just had to get to the center of the city and he could camouflage himself in the crowd, why was it so difficult, why was it so far away? , so, with a new impulse of determination that he swears he doesn't know where it came from, he sharpened his hearing that had improved (not in the best conditions) through his years in captivity to detect some nearby urban sound and to locate the footsteps of the villain whose name Izuku was pretty sure he had heard but did not remember now, and well, that was not the important thing but rather the fact that, oh how convenient, he possessed a quirk that was capable of launching electric currents through one organism at a time, probably through a point of contact, if he guided by what he had witnessed and experienced, certainly not a very pleasant sensation that he had had the misfortune to experience. Yeah, the guy was someone to watch out for.

Guy who had strangely stopped.

He paused, trying to focus more on the sounds around him. Still nothing , then as quietly as possible, with his quirk still painfully active and blood buzzing from his ears he approached the edge of the building and oh, there he was, looking around frantically without suspecting that Izuku was upon his head.

y oh.

Oh no.

Nonononono.

A familiar energy ran through his body like thousands of ants scurrying under his skin, and then he felt his quirk go off. Instantly the guy raised his head and looked him straight in the eyes and Izuku could swear he saw fire in them. In that instant he regretted the moment he stopped, by now all the momentum was lost. So without making the same mistake twice, he wasted no time and hurried to the opposite edge of the building, starting to run as he listened as the man climbed the ladder, and began jumping again.

He was picking himself up again after going over a couple of roofs, and he was doing well , gaining distance, until, well, one of his feet gave out during a bad landing and he felt his ankle buckle in a way that couldn't be good. He instinctively rose to his feet and hissed in pain at the sudden movement.

He tried to support him steadily as he dragged to the next edge limping and then his stomach fell at the floor when he realized he couldn't jump, the space that separated him from the other building was so close and so far. With his heart beating louder and threatening to break out of his chest he heard the man land behind him. He turned around and there he was, a bloodthirsty gaze fixed on him as he approached, and damn, Izuku definitely didn't like being on the receiving end of that look.

A ball of panic began to creep up his chest to his throat and then his throat was tightening more and more and his ears were buzzing and, damn, his vision was blurring again because it always did that at the least convenient times while his mind yelling they are going to catch me and he definitely couldn't go back there and couldn't stand idly by, no more while hands touched him and eyes looked at him and those sharp needles inserted into his hide without any care and cuts through it and the touch that hurt and wounded so much and burned his skin if he didn't obey. He couldn't, I can't , and especially now, not after what he had heard. Not now that he had found a motive to keep alive 

Because Izuku knew with certainty that if he went back there he would never go out again.

At least not in one piece.

So his mind began to race frantically as he thought, almost feeling the gears turning in his head, pleading with whatever deity outside of his for an idea.

Please brain don't fail me now.

After the longest second of his life he could almost see how a lamp was lit over him, his prayers had been efficiently answered, because now he had an idea.

Izuku concentrated and put all his determination to stand up deliberately ignoring the sharp pain that ran through his ankle and carefully stood on the metal railing near him on the edge with his back to the alley, manipulating his balance with his arms raised at shoulder height. He could feel the strongest breeze playing with his nightgown as the man opened his eyes in surprise for a few tense seconds until he processed what was happening in front of him and didn't hesitate to run in his direction.

Izuku was pretty sure he'd laugh if he could, a bitter, ugly, hysterical laugh, he could almost feel it, like a ghost in the back of his throat, because that's how it was all. Because the rush and the hurry urgency was originated merely by the fact that they could not let him die, because if they did they could not remove the quirk from his body that belonged to them , and they could not torture him in the form of punishment because he was a bad child until he wish he were dead.

Besides, he knew too much.

So he started counting in his mind, calculating the exact second he had to do it because if he did it wrong he was definitely going to be dead . Then he took a short but deep breath-

And Izuku dropped.

Not a second passed after his feet left the cold metal before he felt a firm grip on his left arm. Then Izuku gained momentum and wasted no time as he hooked one leg into the same metal as he descended into the void, and without giving him even a second to react, with his right arm gripping the edge of the collar of his suit and his other leg going straight for his stomach, he tensed every muscle in his body and pushed it with all his forces.

He successfully began to fall backwards with the guy in drag, and unlike Izuku, he was not attached to anything, so he instinctively released his grip on his arm to hold onto the iron, missing by just a few inches.

The greenette could see the slight hint of horror deep in those eyes falling in slow motion, almost unnoticed, but it was there and Izuku was too familiar with that expression not to notice it. Eyes locked on his and their brief toxic green glow, a bad omen for anyone unfortunate enough to witness them.

As Izuku hung upside down, a scream split the night, stopping abruptly before anyone was able to hear it, then he looked down and could see the body on the floor with a crimson puddle slowly forming underneath it.

Izuku knew he wasn't dead, at least not for now, these guys were tough as hell and equipped to the bone. Maybe he would still pass out for another couple of hours until someone found him, hopefully some hero, or he himself woke up half dying, but the important thing was that now Izuku had time. So with a sigh of relief, he doubled over and manipulated his body until he touched the sweet and safe concrete surface.

He allowed himself a breath, just one, because he wasn't completely safe yet, Izuku wasn't sure if there were more people following him. So he stood up, went down the fire stairs, passed the inert figure with barely a glance at it, and continued on his way to possible freedom.

With a long sigh that turned out to be more like a tired moan, Izuku tangled with his own feet, falling heavily to the ground and hitting his body hard in a dry sound. Ouch, that will leave bruises .

He felt exhausted to the bone, dizzy, and he was pretty sure his head was splitting, but he didn't have the strength to prove it. Izuku heard his stomach growl angrily , ah yeah, he was a little hungry too, but he could deal with that later. For now he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep forever. Or at least long enough to recover.

The adrenaline slowly left his body as he gasped for breath. He could still feel a small knot in his stomach that he could identify as panic, but it was no longer as big as before being pushed by another feeling that he could not identify.

As his mind raced as he forced himself not to vomit, he noticed the soft and porous contact of the ground with his bare skin, and after looking up and focusing on it, he realized with a surprised expression. that it was sand .

Izuku felt as if he had found water in the middle of the desert and, despite his limbs protesting, with a little more energy that had come from somewhere , he jumped to his hands and knees and looked around frantically. Sand , there was sand everywhere, and yes, with another expression of surprise he pointed out that there were also tons of garbage that he had no idea how or why it got there but, sand .

Izuku ran his trembling hand over it gently as if he feared destroying it with his touch. A slight warmth welled up on his chest, it was so soft and small that he could feel it tickling him as a bit got caught between his nails.

He clenched his fist tightly, his nails leaving little crescents in his palm. After making sure he was alone, he kept running and walking through the rooftops and down the streets momentarily when his ankle was protesting too much, it still hurt a bit, but it was nothing too serious, it was sure to heal in a couple of days or he'd get used to the pain, whichever comes first. Izuku had almost panicked a bit when he had finally run into the bustling noise of cars and people walking when he finally got to the city center, plus all the unnecessary and overly bright lighting that slammed into his eyes making his temple throb. The paranoia scratched his mind fiercely when he heard or saw something unidentified, occasionally forcing him to cast furtive glances behind his back making sure no one was following him as he kept moving, dodging people and hiding in the shadows so as not to be seen. He did it successfully, and after a while he pointed out that the further he went, the fewer people there were, so he just kept going straight without stopping, until Izuku got here, unable to go any further.

A lot of emotions began to fight inside him. It had been so long since he had seen sand or even the night sky. When Izuku managed to stabilize himself a bit, he rose carefully to his feet and leaning against the surrounding garbage began to walk, making his way. If there's sand, there must be water somewhere , he thought. After a few minutes of climbing he could feel the cool breeze the further he went, and soon the smell of salt water stung his nose. He began to pick up his pace hungrily, sharpening his ears, the so sweet sound of the tide hitting the shore in the distance more and more present.

Then he reached his destination and all he could do was drop to his knees without any sense of self-preservation, because honestly, he had lost it long ago. So he was only dazzled by the sight that was offered to him before his eyes.

Izuku looked at the view appreciating the horizon, the moon was perched at the top, of a pearl color and shining majestically, the stars accompanying her in the dark and infinite sky like a huge black cloak that made him feel small. The slowly swaying waters below emitted the most beautiful lullaby Izuku thinks he has ever heard as the light was reflected off them turning a soft white.

He could feel his eyes so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of their sockets, but he didn't care. He just breathed in, deeply and slowly letting the now more prominent saltwater smell enter his nose, filling his lungs as much as he could, and then slowly let it out.

Izuku stood up again, letting the tide wash over his feet as the gentle breeze hit his face and played with his wild hair. He shuddered a little at the sudden cold, but he didn't pull away, didn't want to.

His tears ran down his face and frustrated he tried to wipe them aggressively, not now, it is not the time to snivel , but his attempts were useless because they kept falling more and more abundantly. A silent sob escaped his throat.

Izuku reluctantly backed away from the shore and hid in the trash, but made sure the sky remained uncovered. He lay back on the sand gently, as he had done so many years ago and this time he did not try to stop the tears, instead, he tried to cry as quietly as possible as he gazed at the glittering stars above him.

Right now Izuku was alone in the world, he had a gang of villains probably chasing his ass, he didn't know what the next step in his plan would be, he was literally surrounded by garbage, he felt like a truck had run over him and there was a certain probability of him dying in the next few days, perhaps from malnutrition or assassination, whichever came first, but in those moments only one thought occupied his entire mind in the quiet of the night, feeling calm for the first time in a long time.

I am free.

Chapter Text

Izuku's eyes snapped open as a choking gasp turned into barely a hiss left his throat. He quickly gasped for air that didn't come and was instantly sorry, the whole place stank, infested with a phantom smell of smoke that clawed at his lungs and throat as his heart shot wildly in his ears.

All he could hear was screaming. Screams everywhere, in pain, begging for help, begging to stop please and eyes lit by the dancing fire that stared at him, it's your fault it's your fault it's your fault…

Izuku stumbled to his knees and hands and emptied his stomach to one side, bile burning his throat. Tremors and chills ran through his body as his bangs clung to his sweat-covered face. Finally when he realized that he had nothing else to throw up he fell onto his side with a thud, at last felt his chest a little looser gasping for air.

It was just a nightmare, a nightmare, it's not real, he thought to try to convince himself, slowly returning to reality. He suddenly noticed that a dazzling light was blinding his eyes and he sat up quickly, disorientation settled in his stomach abruptly almost making him sick again, why was there so much light?

Izuku held on tightly to the ground below him trying to make out. It didn't look like the one in his room and there was certainly never so much light. There were no lamps or windows, and he was lucky if ever, even the smallest trace of illumination, managed to seep through the cracks momentarily. But most of the time just darkness, darkness that threatened to absorb him if he wasn't careful…

It didn't look like the testing or training rooms either, Izuku knew the floor of both of them very well and neither was like this. Wasn't like the porous feel of cement scraping his limbs or cold tile, and there were blankets, why were there blankets?

Had he been knocked unconscious? It wouldn't be the first time after one of their sick experiments and he was always a bit sick with the drugs. But if so, that meant that he was most likely still in a laboratory or something like that. Was it a new room? A new method? A new test? Izuku quickly found himself frustrated at being unable to guess.

He rubbed his eyes hard, trying to clear his vision still blackened by panic, failing. He cursed internally, that was not good, if he was in danger he needed all his senses, the damned adored to surprise him with mortal things and he was sure that this was no exception.

Izuku doubled over himself, hiding his face between his knees. He started taking silent deep breaths. He needed to focus, if he remained in a panic he couldn't do anything right, probably proving fatal to himself so he had to activate his still half-asleep senses. Maybe if he was lucky (which he doubted) there was no one around, giving him enough time, or they were just watching him. He subtly flinched at the last thought.

He sharpened his ever-faithful ear to scan around him carefully. If Izuku was right, there was always some telltale sound, from the slightest breath or the soft sound of a pen running over paper to footsteps or some heart monitor.

However, there was nothing.

Knowledge settled heavily in his chest. There was a lot of light but no noise. Izuku couldn't remember any similar situation and slightly became nervous, if it was something new it could not be good. New was never good.

Suddenly, the cawing of a seagull broke the powerful silence like a bullet in the middle of the night and he tensed from head to toe. A seagull ? Why, of all things, would there be a fucking seagull in here? His mind began to race again trying to find some explanation for all this, but again, he only ran into emptiness.

Wait a second-

Slowly the memories of Izuku begin to return to his mind. He took a deep breath again as he tried to organize his now rampaging brain.

Alright then, if it wasn't all a hallucination of himself, if Izuku was correct, he had just escaped… How long, four days? Yes, and at the moment he was staying on this trash-strewn beach that was apparently called Dagobah while he tried to figure out how to fix his life.

Well, that was a good compilation.

So Izuku wasn't trapped, he wasn't in the middle of some pursuit for his life that he wasn't aware of, he wasn't in the middle of an experiment and they weren't watching him.

Honestly, that was more than good.

Izuku let out a heavy sigh mixed with relief and his chest loosened a bit more. The realization helped him relax a little more and calm down now that he knew he was alone and had time. He was almost a little happy about it.

Just a little.

After a few minutes he finally managed to stabilize himself and was encouraged to lift his head from between his knees and look around him. The view was still a little out of focus but he could notice the things around him, so it was a victory.

Izuku had fallen asleep inside an old bus. The seats were broken as were the windows and the roof had some dents but it was a good place, even a little cozy if he was honest. Or at least as much as he could ask.

The beach was surrounded by cars and all sorts of different things, and if he searched hard he could find really useful things, like the blankets that he now remembered finding yesterday. They had some holes and spots of dubious origin, but they still served their purpose and in that way Izuku had found himself huddled and warm last night. He was lucky he didn't get them dirty when he threw up.

He had also managed to find some clothing that was actually a bit decent and usable like the hood he was wearing alongside some slightly ripped pants. A pair of shoes protected his feet that were a bit big, but it was not a big deal, after all Izuku was still living in a garbage dump and he didn't want to risk going barefoot and sticking something in his foot resulting in a nasty infection, that wouldn't be nice.

Bitterly, Izuku began to fold the blankets and store them in the backpack that he had also managed to rescue. He couldn't allow himself to stay two days in a row in the same place, it would be dangerous, so as soon as he woke up he would collect his things so as not to leave any trace that he had been there. He grimaced, he should clean up too, just in case.

And it wouldn't be a bad idea to start looking for a new place. But if he was honest, he felt terribly drained. Sure, he was used to nightmares but that didn't stop him from feeling like shit every time he woke up, which unfortunately was more often than Izuku would like. His already meager sleep hours were ruined in the worst way.

And he wasn't used to dreams about his… Childhood. With the drastic changes in his life he had stopped having them a long time ago, as if his mind had stored them in a chest and thrown them into the darkest corner. But it all comes back eventually, like it or not, so they would show up eventually, just to remind him that they're still there, they haven't left, determined to torment him.

The worst was when he dreamed about the fire. Flames and smoke everywhere, Inko's screams and Hisashi's eyes staring at him through the flames with his fury and contempt own of him, a scene worthy of being compared to hell.

They always argued. That time the discussion had been about him (for a change) and his quirkless state, the family scum. About what they would do with him, and all that stuff. The usual really. Not that there was a decisive point, both parents eventually became in agreement in their dislike of Izuku, the difference being that they expressed it in different ways. 

Inko was... Odd, with Izuku's vague memories, he could tell that she mostly focused on ignoring the situation, pretending that the problems didn't exist and that her family wasn't being reduced to dust and ashes. She worked all the time and was hardly ever at home. And consequently, after his condition became known, she slowly ceased to pay attention to him until she stopped caring about him altogether. 

She began to pretend he didn't exist either. 

It hurt almost as much as the physical damage.

And that fight would have gone on like any other, while Izuku stayed locked in his room listening to everything, trying to make the least noise. But he had occurred to intervene after hearing a loud hit, certainly the worst decision of his life. After that everything got out of control and the three of them found themselves trapped in a burning house. The only one who survived was Izuku himself.

Izuku knew it was his fault, and sometimes he wondered if perhaps he hadn't intervened, or if he had been blessed with a quirk, things would have been different.

Maybe they would still be alive, maybe they would reconsider later and change, or just ignore him and that would also be fine because at least he would have a home to return to. Maybe he hadn't ended up in the foster care, maybe all this hell could've been avoided.

Izuku mentally scolded himself when he noticed tears stinging his eyes and he rubbed them roughly. It already happened, get over it , he thought as he got up. With a sigh he tied his messy hair into a low ponytail with an old lace.

What's done is done and there was no use regretting things that had already happened years ago, nothing would change what had occurred, so he just had to move on.

But deep down, even if Izuku tried to deny it, it still hurt. Why did it hurt?

In his time in captivity most of the time he didn't have to worry about it hurting, he had done it a few years ago. Most of the time his mind was just so… asleep, just focused on arriving with as little physical damage as possible at the end of the day.

And now, even though he still had to worry about surviving it wasn't the main thought in his head.

Izuku didn't want that, he didn't want his inner demons and ghosts from his past to come to light, he didn't need more burden and wallow in his self-indulgence. He wanted his mind to go back to how it was before, with that comforting sensation like anesthesia.

So with that in mind, Izuku jumped up, hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder, and went out through one of the bus's broken windows to meet the crisp morning. It looked like a good time to train and walk on the beach.

If he didn't allow himself to think about it, it wouldn't affect him.

Izuku found himself appreciating the sunlight hitting his pale skin, filling him with a warm sensation as he gazed up at the blue sky, sitting on top of a pile of garbage.

Since he had managed to escape two weeks ago, he had forced himself to relax (after several internal arguments) just a little, and allow himself a few moments to appreciate small pleasures in life like these. He probably wouldn't be bad for him to take advantage of his freedom as much as he could, maybe he didn't deserve it, but after so many years locked up under artificial lights it had become tempting, and he wasn't hurting anyone, right?}

Besides, he never knew what might happen to him the next day.

However, under all the quiet that Izuku was actually enjoying he found himself feeling a bit anxious for a while, at least more than normal. He hadn't been able to sleep the entire night for more turns and ways he settled into. And the tremors and chills that ran through his body constantly along with the profuse sweat had not cooperated much to the situation either.

It happened a lot lately, and when it didn't, it was the nightmares, that were seriously bothering him. He didn't like feeling tired and sick, that left him vulnerable, the feeling was not welcome at any time.

But he supposed it was just his body reacting to the alien and unknown thing that lodged inside, wreaking havoc on his system. fucking quirk. Not to mention, it was quite painful to handle and took up a large portion of his already meager energies to use it. And kami, the nosebleed, not to mention it, was something quite annoying to say the least. As a consequence, Izuku really shied away from using it like a plague, but sometimes it was unavoidable. A strange sound or the sudden movement of a random bird would cause it to suddenly and unconsciously activate it, quickly rendering it invisible. And when he realized what he had done his body would rush back to his original form, blinking, leaving him exhausted.

Izuku had woken up terribly fatigued that morning, but he still did his daily training, he couldn't risk becoming weak right now, plus there was that lingering thought despite the exhaustion that screamed more, more, do more . So afterwards he continued practicing knife throwing until his arms couldn't take it anymore.

He had set out to learn after finding a slightly old and rusty knife among the garbage piles one day, but one that was still quite useful. Anything to burn off that extra twisted energy and keep his mind focused on something, and well, having one more way to protect himself didn't hurt. It was all merely self-learning based on what he was able to observe and what conclusions he was drawing, and as he was watching, it was a lot of math, planning, trajectory, speed and all that shit that he was pretty familiar with, so he could cope. And he could admit that he was progressing slowly but surely.

It had become a routine during these two weeks, and when he still had energy left he would also walk the beach trying to find more useful things or jumping in the rubbish debris as obstacles and climbing. There was a certain sense of satisfaction when he pushed his body to the limit and beyond.

But the days began to feel extremely long.

Not that he wanted night to come, it was certainly safer during the day because at that time it was less likely that a flock of criminals would find him, and Izuku was glad to realize that even in the daytime people did not approach the ugly beach, so there was no one to bother him, allowing himself to lower his defenses a bit.

And it was still too early to go out to find food or water.

Finding water was easy, there were fountains nearby in the parks with which he could fill a few bottles and although it was not the best, he could not complain, after all it was that or drink water from the beach itself and he did not want to die intoxicated. Plus, it keeps him hydrated enough and surprisingly clean, or as much as Izuku could ask for.

On the other hand, the food was more complicated. Izuku didn't want to steal, he disliked the idea a bit and it was a line that he didn't want to pass, or at least he still didn't feel desperate enough to do so. Plus, he could get him into trouble that he didn't need.

Also, with a night tour of the less crowded and commercial areas of the district he discovered that he could find really interesting things in the garbage cans. Sometimes people threw away pretty good things, in Izuku's perspective, and after all, food was food! and Izuku settled fairly easily. Sure, he still had to select carefully because there were things that really were inedible, but it was okay overall. And it's not like the flavors mattered much, everything still had that lack of taste on his tongue, like he was eating ashes, but it was irrelevant.

And the great thing was that, between the beach and this, he sometimes found things really useful and with which he could entertain himself for a while. Like a flashlight that is charged by sunlight. It only had a few severed wires, but after finding the right tools he was able to fix it easily. He had also been lucky with a container of bleach by half, apparently it had a hole where it leaked, but he had managed to rescue enough. It would be enormously convenient to clean some of the things he found on the beach and not run the risk of getting sick from some infection.

And so the list went on, pencils, notebooks, even a small cushion . He was a bit excited at the latest discovery, but he quickly abandoned the idea, allowing himself the luxury of being greedy was unnecessary, so he only concentrated on the extremely essential, things that he could count on the fingers of one hand.

And well, maybe he had saved a few pencils and notebooks in his backpack, not like anyone needed to know anyway.

Izuku winced at the sudden sound of a loud explosion and instinctively crouched down on himself, protecting himself.

Well, the peace couldn't last forever.

His breath caught in his throat and he tried to keep as quiet as possible. He sharpened his hearing by scanning around him carefully for any telltale sounds…

Another explosion took him by surprise, shuddering again.

When he calmed down again, he realized that the loud booming was not really coming from somewhere nearby, and after making sure of this once more, Izuku cautiously stood up, taking care not to step badly, managing to balance himself on the mountain of garbage. He had to lean a bit on the balls of his feet, but he finally managed to make out in the distance a great cloud of dust between some buildings growing steadily, followed by more booms and occasional screams. That didn't look nice.

Well it was a decent distance so at least he was safe on the beach away from the commotion, that was a good thing.

Izuku sat back down and closed his eyes. He tried to focus again on the cool breeze, the warmth against his face, and the steady melody of the tide. He was definitely taking advantage of this quiet moment and he wasn't going to let anything interrupt him.

Another boom was heard in the distance.

Must be a big villain.

I wonder what kind of heroes will try to sto-

Well, he was obviously failing.

He subtly turned his head as if afraid someone would scold him for doing so and looked at the cloud of dust still present with a hint of desire.

Instantly Izuku felt bad and sent the feeling to the back of his mind. The sensible part of him that usually kept him alive screamed at him not to even think about it , he had to stay away from the riots and crowds as far as possible, because knowing his luck he might even get caught in the middle of catastrophes.

But on the other hand... He was dying of curiosity. Izuku hadn't seen a hero fight in years , and well, after so long it was certain that many new heroes had been debuting, and his eyes were eager to watch them and try to guess their quirks and analyze their fighting style, maybe even he could try to learn a little of their techniques to improve his own…

No . No, he had to stay safe, at least... Until he had accomplished his little mission. A bitter taste settled in his mouth at the reminder. Yes, he had yet to find a way to carry out the great task that he had set for himself, and if Izuku was honest, he was avoiding it a bit.

He certainly wasn't very excited about having to meet the number one hero.

And much less having to warn him that death had him in its sights.

However, if he didn't do it, who would? He wasn't aware of anyone else who knew what Izuku knew or that they were willing to open their mouth, and he didn't trust the police to show up and talk about his situation, not to mention the fact that he didn't trust adults in general. He had to be and tell him in person, not through something, not through anyone, he ran the risk that the information would arrive distorted or even not arrive. But what if he didn't believe him? After all, who would believe someone like him, a useless one who could hopefully take care of himself, ragged and dirty who was nothing more than a lab rat, and to add more fuel to the fire, quirkless, or at least he originally was.

Or worse , if he think it was a threat? From him?! What if they locked him up?! He didn't want to go from being locked up from one place to another.

But, besides to all that, Izuku had a much more important mission to accomplish. An oath to himself.

He just hoped he had enough time to fulfill it.

He only hoped he would be able to fulfill it.

Izuku let out a heavy sigh. He wasn't gaining anything by thinking about it right now, as far as he knew, All Might wasn't even in town, so it's not like he could still do much.

Instead, his thoughts returned to the bustle in the distance, a heated debate developing within his.

If I only stayed a few minutes and a decent distance…

After a few eternal seconds of hesitation, he finally gave in to the winning winger.

He grabbed his backpack (which he carried everywhere ) and still a little unsure he walked away from the beach, at first slowly and then increasing to a faster trot. Finally he reached some buildings and nimbly climbed it to the roof and began to jump.

After a few days after his escape, he discovered that he loved running on the rooftops of the city, there was a certain freedom compared to any other he had experienced and that bubbling sensation when he jumped into the void and the cold breeze hit his face.

It quickly became part of his routine taking practice, always careful to avoid populated areas.

So now Izuku was more than happy to take this opportunity to do his favorite activity of his day.

He stopped a few blocks away as he approached his destination. In his field of vision was a villain throwing cars at heroes who were actively trying to defuse the situation as police evacuated civilians away from the stage.

The weight of his notebooks on his back that were inside his backpack became a little more noticeable in the back of his mind.

Well, I think I already know what I'm going to do today.

Chapter Text

Izuku stared at the dead eyes. They were flat and an overwhelming abyss dwelt within them. Eyes that he was sure were once bright green and full of life. Something twisted in his gut at the sight.

He had been tempted when, during one of his rare and occasional hikes to stretch his legs (although a little more frequent lately) , he had spotted a gym in the distance in one of the less crowded areas. Izuku always tried to be honest with himself, and he could safely tell that he stunk from head to toe, grime clinging to his skin persistently, the same way moss clinging to trees.

So that day Izuku had made up his mind. They sure had toilets and showers, right? So he would take a chance and go late into the night, to see if there was the slightest chance that he could remember what it was like to feel clean again.

He had been surprised when the windows, which, judging by the model, corresponded to those in the bathrooms, gave way easily.

Now Izuku found himself watching, almost hypnotized by his reflection that the dirty mirror in front of him offered him, a mockery piercing the silence, or at least he felt like one, and he didn’t know what to think about the person who was there. The person he had become.

He looked disgusting.

Features too thin, sharp as the knife in his pocket, settled on his face, prominent cheekbones that stood out brusquely. His eyes were shadowed, large dark bags underneath them, and it was disturbing how there was a clear disconnect, dichotomy between his mind and face. He doubted that any expression or emotion was distinguishable in plain sight.

Although if he looked closely, very closely, and seriously wished it wasn't just his imagination, there was actually something, small and far behind all that haze and mist, barely perceptible, but Izuku couldn't recognize that it was despite his best efforts, so he quickly dismissed it. Then he frowned slightly, then tried to relax his face and forced a smile.

Mhm, nope, he immediately regretted it.

The expression looked totally unnatural, something ugly and grotesque, a growl directed at himself, something that was no longer possible to belong to his features. As if it had never done it in the first place. And just trying made his cheek muscles protest in annoyance.

And if Izuku was honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely smiled, and he wouldn't bother to dig deeper into his hazy memory.

A wicked smile that showed too many bright teeth like fangs, something too twisted to really be a smile, spread all over his face as he walked slowly, a savage wince accompanied by a horrible, guttural sound at the back of his throat, an omen of blood and pain. Whatever was what they injected into him this time ran like burning acid through his veins, along with sick adrenaline.

A few meters in front of him was a man sprawled on the floor, drenched in blood that bathed the ground in the same way. The utter terror and fear in his eyes was as clear as a burning house in the middle of the night.

It was disturbing as he could almost see his own reflection in them, a toxic green light dazzling like destructive rays that threatened to destroy everything in its path, coming from his own eyes.

A horrible little voice in the back of his mind, gloomy and sick, liked the view from a certain perspective. How the fear and anticipation thickened the air into a bitter and disgusting miasma, mixed with the stench of iron and rust that clogged his nose and throat along with his bitter bile, yet delicious and satisfying. Because in those eyes, like the ones before and the future, there was no contempt, disgust and repugnance as he had witnessed thousands of times before, a worm under the shoe that can crush with the tips of the toes. It was almost a twisted parody of deference, submission, and resignation.

And then there was the part of him that wanted to stop, because this was horrible and he didn't want this, he really didn't want to. The very anticipation of what he knew would come felt like lead burning in his gut, spiders with needle stilts running down his spine, a relentless grip of cold, sharp claws on his lungs. And he just wanted to scream and cry despite his throat closed and clogged by bloody glass and moss, and his dry, sandy eyes, as he stared at the trembling figure in front of him.

A threat they had told him.

His objective.

But that would not happen, because no matter how much resistance or opposition he showed, it would not help or prevent anything, in any case, it would only make things worse, the more they would suffer because of him. The result would always be the same.

It was this man or both.

Or they.

It was better that it was just him.

Izuku blinked rapidly in an effort to dispel the memories and diverted his thoughts in another direction. Maybe he could work on his smile, train sore muscles. After all, one more gesture to add to the collection wouldn't be bad. To keep up appearances. What appearances? He had no idea, but it didn't hurt to make sure. Just in case

Although a part of him was proud. People never liked his, eh, everything , he supposed it was largely due to his... sensitive personality and the way he used to be too emotional, and it was fine, he could understand it, but it was impossible for him to stop feeling, or at least that's how it was a couple of years ago. So he trained hard on his face to be able to show only what he wanted to show at the convenient times. Demonstrating fear or nothing at the wrong time with the wrong people could prove fatal. A carefully cultivated blank expression for emotions perhaps worth concealing.

However, it now seemed to have become permanent.

Izuku was a little scared by that listless face, why didn't his expression disappear? He was alone.

Maybe… There was nothing left worth hiding.

But if he tried hard, if he worked a little, maybe he could achieve something. Sure, he would never be that child that he once was, but if he tried perhaps he could get closer...

(What child? What was he like? He looks for it and looks for it but doesn't  find him.

He doesn't remember)

But will it be worth it?

Boys don't Cry.

Stop being so scary, it's time you were a man!

Can't stop crying for once in your life?

Your murmurs, they are so creepy! Monster!

You can't think without your thoughts dropping out of your head, what a foolish!

Speak well, it's not that difficult!

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You got me fed up!

"Oh, look what you've made me do." Izuku flinched. The malicious disappointment in the tone of they voice had something wavering and twisting in his gut. For some reason Izuku felt guilty, but he couldn't make out why despite his best efforts, he just knew that he had done something wrong, again. Somehow, it almost felt worse than the scornful tone.

Then the voice spoke again, poison hidden under a soft blanket woven by a sweet illusion that bordered on cloying and foul, “We really don't want to do this, but misbehaving children need to be educated. And children who behave well don't cry, My dear boy."

"My dear number nine. "

He shuddered slightly when, unconsciously, his cold fingers touched the small scars, the callused fingertips trailing slowly from the bridge of his nose and then to his jaw. They were hardly seen unless you knew they were there. But they were, and now Izuku couldn't stop looking at them, just like the other smaller ones that were scattered around him.

Izuku shifted his eyes to the rest of his face and continued to scrutinize, watching with a morbid fascination, unable to look away. His skin was too pale and papery white, almost gray, bathed in fateful constellations of scattered muted freckles.

Disastrous curls, greasy and dirty green greeted him. His hair was long, falling around the shoulders, probably at the level of the shoulder blades. Oh- wait, there was also white there. A silvery of twisted and ghoulish stars, glinting in the fluorescent light, occasional dead and brittle strands that fell randomly here and there.

They were a little more noticeable at the roots, naturally blended into the greens, giving the impression that they belonged there. Well, the last time Izuku checked he was sure that it wasn't there. Although to be fair, that was a long time ago, and at this point he's not one hundred percent sure about a lot of things. So if there really were, certainly not in that amount.

Besides, what he was at least do sure of was the fact that his hair was entirely green when he was born. Maybe it was some sequel to some previous experiment or quirk? Well, he supposed he would never know for sure. It's not that he really cared much about it though, he didn't have the energy for it. At least it didn't look ugly, in Izuku's humble opinion, so he didn't feel the need to complain. (Although deep down he knew what it was, or most likely was, a manifestation of his own body as a result of years of torture and suffering. But there was something uncomfortable and unpleasant about fully acknowledging it, giving it the weight of the situation properly. Just another thing he didn't want to think about).

And then there was the huge scar.

It dominated his face in a gloomy way, starting from the line of the hair on his right eyebrow, crossing his eye and the bridge of his nose without mercy and then ending abruptly, just a few inches below his left eye.

He contemplated how the right eye was a light milky green color, an opaque veil covered it giving it a grayish appearance. On the other hand, the left one was a cloudy emerald color, a gem that was damaged with the passage of time that ended up turning into something lugubrious and sad. At least that was still normal, from a certain point.

Mhm, he would try to make sure it stayed that way.

Wait, why was he here again?

Oh yeah, a shower. That would be fine.

A small part of him reveled in the idea, deliberately deciding to ignore the part of his brain that was yelling at him, you mustn't, you don't deserve it, you haven't been good enough.

The showers at the base generally resulted in being hosed down with cold water if he was lucky, and if they decided if he had earned it. But even if it was, including Izuku who had a rather terrible notion of time had realized that the time span between them was quite long. Honestly, he didn't specifically remember when was the last time he had a decent shower.

With a sigh, he stripped off his clothes and unceremoniously tossed them into a nearby corner, making sure it was within easy reach in case he needed to run and hastily escape for any inconvenience .

Izuku stepped into the shower slowly. It took him a moment to understand the mechanism, but finally he did and a sense of satisfaction washed over him as the hot water hit him from above, running over his skin.

He stood there for a while, enjoying the omnipresent silence and the warmth that warmed every limb and part of his body, not daring to make a move under the seething spray from the shower slapping against the back of his neck, his head limp as he watched the water drain down the drain. The fringe clung to his face as did, indeed, the back of his hair to his shoulder blades.

With hesitant and stunned movements he began to rub his dirty skin, running his hands over the countless scars that ran his arms, torso, legs, they were everywhere. He also tried absentmindedly to ease the itch that had been plaguing him all day under his skin as dirt and blood fell and fell, seeping with the water down the drain. The sight made him a little dizzy.

Izuku rubbed a little harder. The itch wouldn't go away, and he was starting to piss him off, why didn't it go away? It seemed that the harder he rubbed his skin, it managed only to soothe it for a second, returning more unbearable in revenge. It was exasperating.

Ants. It felt like miles of ants running under his skin, crawling up his feet, torso, arms, back, neck, head and making him shiver. The feeling was lingering and so disgusting. He just wanted it to stop, why couldn't he even take a quiet shower? Why didn't the itch go away? Why couldn't he get a break even a-

Oh.

His spiraling thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he noticed the furious, thick red scratches that now ran along his skin like rakes, opening up some fresh, slowly bleeding wounds. Luckily they were all small and random, so Izuku didn't worry too much. Instead, he tightened and loosened his hands, who eventually found the strands of his hair more attractive, resisting the urge to pull it out, and he concentrated on keeping his mind and body in control.

It wasn't the first time this had happened to him, so he should be able to control himself. But it was so difficult every time, and he knew it wouldn't be the last either.

It was all that quirk's fault.

Their quirk.

Not from Izuku. It would never be from Izuku. He knew that before it had belonged to a person, like the others, of flesh and blood, who had a past, future, goals and dreams, even probably a family and people who loved them. And even if it had belonged to some villain, the feeling was the same. Someone alive , who was probably dead now, underground or perhaps worse, who knows. And that single thought tormented him with fervor.

Out of sheer impulse, maybe in a form of punishment or a moment of irrationality, he didn't really know, Izuku raised his trembling hand and watched as small lines resembling roots and rhizomes stretched through it, then deformed into an effluvium of tiny Green tinted particles, disappearing into something intangible.

It was a matter of a couple of seconds, something small, but the action alone made him dizzy. He was not surprised, apparently, the quirk was not very compatible with his body, from what he had managed to hear before escaping. It was almost a miracle that he could use it for what seemed like three minutes a day so far without making his own body a dying mess, at least not beyond the aftermath it already left him.

Although he had a suspicion that if he practiced and trained it properly, perhaps it would hurt less.

And Izuku was no fool. He would use all his resources to survive, that is why he would openly admit that he has used it more than once in the last time, whether consciously or not, when he felt threatened. However, that didn't mean he didn't feel terrible about it.

Izuku didn't want this quirk. Knowing that it was something from someone else that was now in his body- it was horrible and disgusting knowledge.

He felt dirty .

And how different was he from them then? Wasn't Izuku just as bad if he kept using it, if he kept holding it inside him? Didn't that make him some kind of twisted accomplice?

Izuku wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answers to those questions.

And oh, what an irony of life. Maybe he couldn't remember much about himself before, well, all of this, but he knows that child would have been so relieved and happy at the possibility of getting a quirk. He would have longed for it so much. He was almost certain that he would have begged for it. Everything to stop being a useless, freak, an abomination, scum, pathetic and stupid quirkless.

A Deku.

For people to look at him with at least half the human decency with which they look at an ordinary person. To be able to fulfill a naive boy's desperate dream of becoming a hero.

A hero , Izuku thought bitterly, and couldn't help but snort slightly. It was almost funny how that dream now looked so far away, so ridiculous, as if it had belonged to someone else. If before the gap was long between him and that dream, now it was abysmal. So much so that it was already impossible for him to see the other side.

As if someone like him could become a hero. Save people.

Now, what he would not give to go back to being quirkless. Even if it meant going back to being an abomination, useless, stupid and disgusting. It's not like he has anything to lose from that.

Oh well, he didn't gain anything by worrying about things that too long ago were out of his control.

He released a shaky breath that was tightening his chest and continued showering. He scrubbed his hair as much as he could and then almost painfully shutted-off the water, got dressed again, and went out the same window he came in through.

This time he didn't look in the mirror.

Chapter Text

The cold night greeted Izuku when he climbed onto the rooftops. The breeze from the height bit into his skin like thorns, sending shivers down his spine. However, the sensation was vaguely overshadowed by the way the sound of the wind passed by his ears in a caress, a soothing melody slightly drowning out his thoughts, and the impact and silent crackle of his shoes against the concrete as he jumped, keeping him grounded, as he continued to hurl himself from building to building just like he'd been doing for the past few weeks, and the suffocating grip he had on his chest and lungs finally began to loosen. Just a little bit, but a little was always better than nothing.

It was Izuku's favorite time of day whenever he felt capable enough to go out, when he dared to leave the discreet security that the beach and the sound of the surf gave him. The collection of all those little things carefully assembled a tranquility in his chest that he wasn't sure he'd experienced before. It was not the delight of complete and absolute freedom, because Izuku knew with certainty that that day would come in the very, very distant future, if not unattainable, but it was something quite close. A small and simple but unique feeling of control for the first time in his life, where at the end of everything he only depended on himself and on no one else what would happen in these places. Right now.

Until an impulse made him stop at one and he just stood there, standing in the middle of the great roof that was in the middle of nowhere and noticed how something else began to bloom in his chest, overwhelming despite its subtlety and too familiar, a feeling that he knew a lot about and had experienced several times throughout his life and yet despite all those times he still hated it in the same way, if not even more.

He felt small.

Incredibly small.

He didn't know exactly why, but he had a slight idea. Perhaps it was the infinite stars that managed to peer out, small delicate patterns of flashes in the distance, or the great and bright moon in the middle of the great sky bathed in dark and hazy ink, or the way the city spread beyond its field of vision, the lights from nearby lanterns and windows blazing, accompanied by typical urban sounds that weren't loud enough to be distressing, and it was strange.

It was still strange, after so long wrapped only in silence and darkness to see and hear all these things, and above all overwhelming. Some days he could endure, even enjoy it, but other days it was simply unbearable. It was as if he had been slammed to the surface after having been sinking into an endless dark and unfathomable sea that had been bent on sinking him deeper and deeper, and yet the surface was just as disorienting and unfamiliar. The water that remained in his lungs still did not let him breathe freely.

After all, how long had he been isolated from society? How much had he lost?

Izuku didn't know if he wanted to know.

It felt like… A great wall. Reaching his “freedom” had only been a wall that he, hopefully, had managed to break through, but there was still this one, even bigger, even taller and wider and thicker. However, he could still see through it, but everything was blurry, the colors, the large screens with publicity and advertising, the lights, the people, everything looked ... Opaque , cold and dull, like his side of the wall And a tiny little part of him idly wondered if he really wanted to get to the other side.

Had the world always been so… gray ?

And then the wall grew a little sturdier, like it was mocking, projecting a cloying, false illusion. A beautiful lie. A reminder that this world was there but he was not allowed to reach it, at least not yet, and he would just have to settle for watching everything go on and on without him while he could only sit there and watch, spellbound by the sight.

Strange and disorienting.

And also... Lonely.

Lonely .

Izuku kept staring at the faded lights and muted stars silently, and subsequently managed to get his mind to finally shut up as well. A triumph in itself honestly.

Until after a few minutes, he wasn't totally sure, his moment of peace was interrupted, bringing him back abruptly to reality because, well, it was his luck after all.

It took him a couple of seconds to identify what had broken the precious silence, which for the first time did not feel like crushing lead on his senses, until he finally made it out, making him wince slightly.

Laughter echoed through the night from the alley next to the building Izuku was in, but that was not the reason for his shudder, oh no, it was the tone of those laughter. They weren't normal, like the ones of happiness or elation that he sometimes heard more and more often when he dared to go out into the slightly more crowded parts of the district during sunlight. No, he knew this kind of laugh, a melody that resonated nasty, malicious and sharp with something cruel around the edges. They were a kind of laughter born out of malicious joy. Certainly a bad omen, and the greenette had learned to tell the difference a long time ago.

Instinctively Izuku approached the edge of the roof, making sure to stay hidden enough and listened intently. Whispers and more laughter joined in, they were at a considerable distance and they weren't loud and loud enough to attract someone else's attention and in fact, if it were not for the ability of his hearing Izuku doubted that he would have been capable of listen to them.

A thought crossed Izuku’s head and for a moment he froze, afraid that the laughter was at his expense or that his presence had been noticed. That would not be good. He waited a bit and the tension in his shoulders faded slightly when the idea was discarded, they hadn't noticed.

Izuku knew that he shouldn't get into trouble and stay in the shadows, pass by, as it was the best way to stay under the radar and consequently he could commit his objectives more easily. But something inside him prickled when he realized the possibility that someone might actually be in trouble.

It was probably not too serious, considering they didn't bother much to hide their presence, after all the most dangerous ones always acted quietly. But he could never be one hundred percent sure, and maybe the situation was as serious as murder and he would just be there, doing nothing when he actually could help or have done something to prevent it. Izuku wouldn't forgive himself.

He focused his eyes through the darkness of the place, and could make out in the background a gang of three people, men, holding a sack.

They didn't look more than twenty years old, and they honestly didn't look very threatening. They looked more like a group of unconscious children playing with fire.

The one on the far left was short. The most remarkable thing were his large eyes, the barely visible sclera, and they moved constantly, like a nervous tic. A long, thin tail hung from its rear, barely skimming the ground in one slight movement. With a closer look Izuku could make out pads on the fingertips of his exposed hands that constantly opened and closed into a fist, showing some scales scattered across his skin, continuing under his clothing and extending to his face, but they were rare and random unlike their tail, and they looked not very resistant.

Izuku was almost certain that it was a lizard quirk, mutation, perhaps Gecko to be more exact and judging by the round pupils it was diurnal, so his night vision capacity should not differ much from an average person.

The one on the far right had only strange hair that waved in a smooth, slow motion, almost delicate, it looked like… water. Yes, Izuku believed he was right. He seemed to be a mutant too, and he looked interesting. Could he control the water at his will? Could it ever run out or evaporate or freeze? Certainly he would need to hydrate more than most, what if he dehydrated, would it be reduced? Could it mix with other substances? What if he goes bald-

Right, he had to concentrate.

The one in the middle was a bit more complicated since nothing distinguishable was visible. His fingers holding a sack in a firm grip were a bit long and slender, but for all he knew it could be clearly something innate. Perhaps a quirk of transformation, something passive or mental or emitter type. Hmm, he would have to be careful with that one.

Izuku focused his gaze on the sack, there was something inside. It was squirming with vehemence and momentum, and Izuku was pretty sure he could hear something whine and complain from within. He tried to focus more and his breath escaped his lungs when he managed to identify the sound.

That was a kitten.

"Damn, it's small but it's so wild, I never thought it would move that much." Spoke the guy with the hair quirk.

"It's inside the sack, so it won't do any harm."

"Why are we doing this again?"

“I already told you, I caught It stealing food. It has been around the area for days and it has me fed up. I hate cats, they are so gross, let's get this over with."

Izuku watched as they put the sack down, and then the guy in the middle looked around, searching for something. His eyes gleamed perfidiously when he seemed to find his target, and Izuku froze as he approached a piece of concrete that was a few feet away, which looked quite heavy.

And then something else started to grow on his chest, which was honestly getting annoying and exhausting, because he was pretty sure he had already used up his daily quota. Furthermore, he did not appreciate this particular feeling very much, something incandescent slowly taking shape.

And contrary to what some people thought, Izuku doesn't get angry very often. No, he generally gets carried away by pure adrenaline, fueled by his determination in the wake of survival as far as the moment is concerned.

Yet now he was merely propelled by the ice-cold lava that ran through his thoughts, threatening to sweep away whatever he had the misfortune to cross his path.

Izuku began to ponder how he should handle the situation. Something that he was a little unsure of because, well, they weren't bloodthirsty potential villains, (although to reach such heights of hurting an innocent animal they were close to, in Izuku's honest opinion) So he couldn't hurt them as much as he wanted to.

Right?

His heart dropped to what he suspected might be the height of his feet as the guy lifted his hand slightly, stretching his fingers as his fingertips glowed almost subtly, bringing the piece of concrete closer and lifting it to a dangerous height. A wicked gleam in his eyes that showed no hesitation.

Oh no.

With a silent sigh he secured his hood, checking that it completely covered his hair just in case, and pulled one of his knives out of his pocket. He wasn't as sharp as he would like and Izuku didn't have enough practice, the small cuts along his hands superimposed on his other scars showed it, but he supposed it would be enough for this situation. Or at least he would make sure of that.

Well, it looks like he's actually doing this.

With a quick and precise movement he threw the knife across the alley, witnessing it pass a few inches from the guy's face and drive hard into the opposite wall. Ah, that could have been fatal, it didn't, though, so that was fine. Besides, his aim was much better than he expected, which was a triumph, wasn't it?

And his distraction had paid off! Izuku watched with some satisfaction and relief as the little gang stopped looking like a bunch of idiotic assholes and more like deer caught in headlights, looking around with some panic and fear. And the guy had pushed the piece of concrete aside in the process. Well, he had them right where he wanted them.

The one with the water hair quirk barely noticed his presence and took a couple of steps back when he had already suffered the same fate.

Izuku ducked and rolled on the ground when he caught sight of a piece of concrete out of the corner of his eye that grazed over his head and, ah, a few more came after him. Someone wants the hard way then.

They were small though, or at least only slightly larger than his own head, and it was just concrete and cement. He took a split second to inspect the guy a few feet in front of him, and in addition to the clear fear of him that made Izuku's heart flutter a bit because that look was too familiar, he noticed that he was struggling a bit. Mhm... interesting, so it was some kind of weak telekinesis concentrated in the cement/concrete, some material that they have in common or something like that, since surely it could lift something else that was in the place, or the body of one of his cronies to fight back in the worst case scenario. And if it were a weight limit it was almost always between the extremes of being related to one's own weight, which in which case it could easily lift Izuku, or just small things, which seemed to be the case.

And he was lifting several at a time, which was making him terribly slow. So Izuku not planning to lengthen the inevitable further, he ran straight in the guy's direction, jumping and dodging every now and then, and in a couple of seconds he was already in front of him. Izuku charged forward fluidly and spun on one leg, the other swung and struck his side, consciously reducing the force considerably so as not to cause any serious damage. The guy hit the wall with a single thud and before he could fully stand up he was back on the ground, unconscious.

Izuku stood there for a few seconds, savoring the silence with all his senses alert trying to catch any inconvenient sounds or movements, in case any of them had returned to consciousness or something similar.

Nothing.

Well, until a weepy little meow sounded urgently and, ah, the urge to leave more than just bruises on these bastards came back imminently and persistently. However, Izuku settled for turning around and walking with quiet, calm steps to the sack. It would be better not to scare it.

With careful and steady hands, as if what he was holding was the most fragile thing in the world, he lifted it up and nestled it in his arms securely and what Izuku hoped was a bit comfortable, and began to make quiet shushing sounds, or at least as close as possible, trying to calm the animal inside a bit.

He made sure to pick up his knife, which to his surprise still remained firmly nailed to the wall, and walked to the edge of the buildings. Or so he did until his feet collided with something on the way, making a small noise of metal hitting the concrete. He looked down and his eyes met a small object. Hesitantly, Izuku took it between his fingers and held it up in the moonlight, slightly reflecting, it looked like... a Swiss Army knife, and Kami, wasn't this a godsend? It would be of great help and utility in his hands and...

Ah, but, most likely one of the guys had dropped it during the fight, and well, it was bad to steal, but Izuku's fingers were already clinging tightly to the object, and it was on the ground, so there was no guarantee that it was actually theirs, it could have easily fallen out of someone else's pocket earlier, and what was the saying...? Ah! yes, finders, keepers.

Meh, no one would miss it.

With that final thought, he quickly shoved it into his pocket. He had a task to accomplish.

He waited until he was back on the roof, and after being at a decent distance and confirming that he was completely alone, he settled on the corner of a rooftop and carefully set the bag on the ground. He did not want to open it before and risk the kitten being injured and escaping in that condition.

With hands a little shaky but steady he untied the knot as fast as he could, propelled by the insistent desperate meows and opened it, and oh.

The poor little thing.

Chapter Text

He waited until he was back on the roof, and after being at a decent distance and confirming that he was completely alone, he settled on the corner of a rooftop and carefully set the bag on the ground. He did not want to open it before and risk the kitten being injured and escaping in that condition.

With hands a little shaky but steady he untied the knot as fast as he could, propelled by the insistent desperate meows and opened it, and oh.

The poor little thing.

A pair of bright, terrified eyes stared back at him as a small trembling head reared up from within, and Izuku could see how a layer of dirt and grime covered what appeared to be a tricolor fur. The right half of his face was deep black, one eye bright green like jade. The other half was orange, this eye seemed to be blind tough, a beautiful opaline color, with slight iridescent glints emerging from the reflection of moonlight, like a moonstone. Two precious stones in such a small and beautiful being, it was wonderful.

She didn't seem to be more than a few months old despite being small. Izuku quickly scanned the calico kitten for any signs of physical damage, and satisfied when he found nothing large or obvious, he raised a hand and slowly and carefully extended it, the kitten watching his every move. And when he was close enough to almost touch her, she flinched.

Then the greenette opened his mouth, trying to get something to come out through his leaden and heavy tongue and full of moss, anything-

The air caught in his throat, a strangled sound was the only thing able to come out in the middle of a sudden fit of coughing.

That hurt.

Like a motherfucker.

Bitch.

Which didn't really surprise him much, really. In fact, it was to be expected after such a long time without speaking. So he tried one more time, the syllables slipping reluctantly down his throat, twisting on his tongue and breaking between his teeth into little shards of glass that refused to go any further, the effort totally futile. But he wanted to try to calm the little creature, so he tried a third time, and a fourth, until finally,

“N-no’ gon-nna h-hur’ you. S-s-swear. " Ah, Izuku almost regretted opening his mouth. The words came out painfully and hoarse from disuse, scraping his throat like sandpaper and breaking at the edges, barely a whisper over the stillness of the night. Plus there was that annoying stutter that slightly frustrated him and Izuku honestly can't remember when was the last time he actively spoke. However, the pain and frustration quickly paid off when he, for whatever reason, saw the kitten visibly relax.

He let her sniff his fingers, the breath and whiskers tickling her, and seeing that she didn't back off, Izuku held his breath and closed the short distance, running his fingertips gently and slowly over the trembling little ball of hair. The kitten did not flinch or complain, and instead bowed slightly at the touch. Izuku's heart faltered in his chest and then he melted.

They stood there for a while, Izuku marveling at the precious creature. Then a thought ran through his mind and slowly he slid his backpack off his shoulders and began rummaging through it. Surely the kitten was hungry, certainly she was thinner than Izuku would like, and he was sure that he still had some leftovers from his last run… Ah! here they were.

It wasn't much… But it would have to be enough for now, at least until Izuku could get more, sadly, that wasn't today. With a mental note to go out again tomorrow, he handed her the food and set it on the floor. The kitten came over and sniffed it, and after a few moments of hesitation, she began to eat quickly.

When she finished, seemingly satisfied, she stood there and looked at Izuku with those big eyes that no longer showed fear, her tail wagging slightly. Now that she was completely out of her sack, Izuku again inspected her more completely. He found no wounds again, but the dirt still bothered him, he could practically see the pieces of dirt forming around her fur, clinging to knots. That would surely not be healthy in the long run.

With that in mind, he pulled off his hoodie deliberately ignoring the cold that hit him like little thorns and the fact that all of his scars on his arms would be totally exposed. It was night, it was dark, and he won't be heading through overcrowded areas, so he guessed it would be fine this time.

He placed the garment on the floor and stretched it out, unsure of how to proceed, whether he should just take the kitten or... Ugh, he was so clumsy at these things.

The decision was not necessary, though. She seemed to understand the message and walked over, sitting on the hoodie. Oh, well then.

He wrapped the thick fabric around her in a bundle, a small head poking out almost comically. He replaced his backpack and then carefully lifted her, securing her with one arm firmly against his chest, a protective feeling slowly growing.

Oh no, he was already falling.

Honestly though, Izuku couldn't find himself bothered by that idea, so with a shrug he started walking to his new destination.

In a few minutes he was already in the gym, the night was still young and there was no one around so he was able to break in safely and easily again.

He set the kitten down, walked over to one of the showers and shutted-off the hot water. He wasn't sure how to bathe a cat, but he was pretty sure that simply throwing her under the heavy stream of water wouldn't be a very good idea. So with that train of thought, the greenette looked around for something to use as a makeshift stopper ... So he took some toilet paper and saturated it with water, squeezed out the excess and stuffed it into a small plastic bag that he took out of his backpack. Oh yeah, that should do enough to clog the drain and prevent water from leaking out. That said, he checked it out and something a bit like pride settled in his chest when it was a hit. Now was the time for action.

As if Izuku had called out to her, the kitten started fidgeting vigorously trying to get out of the hoodie, meowing urgently in his direction, the sound chirping, soft and pretty like a bell. Izuku came over and helped her out of it and immediately the kitten jumped up and ran to the edge of the shower, turned to him and sat down, staring at him. She then turned around and began to play with a paw with the water that was slowly accumulating.

Izuku just watched her play for a while, spellbound. Sure, the kitten was still shaking slightly, either from cold or fear or both, he wasn't quite sure, but she had gained confidence in the last few minutes in a way that surprised Izuku. And she did not seem to be afraid of Izuku, which was quite comforting, perhaps it was true that the animals were intuitive since he certainly did not plan to hurt her even if his life depended on it.

He approached slowly and crouched beside her, reaching out in telegraphed motions to stroke her head, oscillations soft and delicate. When she didn't even flinch, he decided to proceed.

He carefully took the kitten in his hands and ignored how her little claws dug slightly painfully into them (his hands had endured worse things anyway) and slowly let her inside, bottom half first, making sure she was well, and then completely. There was only a small shudder for a moment, but she immediately relaxed from the heat.

Izuku dipped his right hand with a decent amount of warm water and brushed the side of her through her disheveled and muddy fur, and cupped her firmly with his left hand,

Chunks of dirt immediately came out, smearing his fingers. Little by little he gradually increased the amount, and it definitely took a while, but luckily there were no downsides, the kitten was calm and just allowed herself to be cared for, enjoying the attention and caution. And, sometimes, Izuku was rewarded with an occasional meow. 

It took a while, but he finally had a soggy, warm and totally clean kitten in his hands, or at least as much as he could. Izuku could already appreciate the blazing colors (slightly more saturated, brighter, and lighter than the vague, flat, and opaque colors Izuku perceives around him) that melted along the silky fur like spots of watercolors. So different from that dirty and grimy touch of a while ago.

Satisfied with his work, Izuku picked her up and put her in his hoodie again, and began to dry her with great care and concentration, as much as he could with the piece of cloth that was definitely not made to dry, until a small, low noise, but booming and ostentatious like a soft melody made him stop in his tracks.

Oh.

The kitten was purring.

She was purring.

Izuku soothed the suspicious and strange feeling that settled deep in his chest, twisting his insides, (which despite that, was not unpleasant, nothing like that. In fact, it felt... Good) , and continued with his task, the purrs of gratitude overcoming the thick silence of the night like an enchantment.

Izuku gazed at the kitten in front of him once more that night, pondering the situation he was in. They were sitting in what was apparently once the back of a pickup truck, hidden among piles of garbage that were large enough to hide them from view unless they were being searched exhaustively and in the process protected them from the cold breeze that night.

He had retrieved his hoodie, a little damp, and currently she was settling between one of his blankets he gave her. He had two, so he saw no problem in sharing.

He really didn't know what to do with her. Taking care of another living being was a great responsibility and Izuku was not sure he was up to the task or being able to deliver, to give her what she deserved. That it was really the best. Besides, he was already dealing with quite a few things. But the idea of sending her to a shelter didn't appeal to him much either. When the kitten was completely comfortable with his presence, she had put fear aside to give way to a fearless, free spirit with a hint of wildness. Most likely they would feed her well, but he knew that being locked in a cage was not the best, at least he doubted it was for her. And the idea of that beautiful little animal behind bars had something that made him shudder with the thought.

And she seemed quite at ease with him, if anything could be said from the way she followed him around as Izuku arranged the nest of blankets and paced the place checking everything more than three times. And the greenette was a little happy to feel that he could lower his guard, relax his tense shoulders, in front of another living being. He was not alone and the company did not make his hair stand on end, that the senses did not shoot out in every movement looking for any sign of danger. Was nice.

And if she stayed with him, it was a fact that he would do his best to keep her healthy and happy. And he would make sure to keep her out of her troubles, like the one he rescued her recently. (And if perhaps, over time, they managed to find comfort in each other, a small family, and a home, that would only be a very welcome side effect) .

Also, the rejected had to stick together.

But, Izuku knew for sure that at the end of it all, he really didn't have the final vote, oh no. That part belonged to her. After all, if the kitten wanted to stay, he knew it would be her decision, and no one could stand against the final verdict.

Like this with one last effort, because fuck, the few sentences he'd managed to force down her throat that night were really counting on him, he asked.

"H-hey, y-you w-w-wan-nna st-tay w-with m-me?"

Izuku was rewarded with a meow and a ball of fur jumping into his lap, the soft, sweet purrs immediately making a presence contrasting with the sound of the surf in the distance.

Well, that was a sufficient answer, in Izuku's opinion, and who was he to reject it?

They stayed that way for a while, genuinely enjoying the cozy feeling that was spread like a soft silk-woven cloak over them.

Oh wait.

The kitten needed a name now.

Because, well, he couldn't call her kitten all his life, it would be exhausting and weird, and the creature certainly deserved better. With that thought, he looked back at her carefully, looking for something remarkable to give him an idea. Izuku was a fiasco in these things, that was a fact, but at least he would make an effort to make it something decent and pretty and worthy of the warm body that was on his lap and was rubbing against his stomach.

However, after searching and searching her mind for a long time, he was still blank, seemingly unsuccessful efforts. Well, it seemed that not even that he could do well. But he guessed that his lack of creativity was due to the weariness and exhaustion that he had been creeping like a shadow for quite some time, finally finding the right moment to sink to the bottom of his bones with malice and almost painfully. Maybe he could have better ideas tomorrow.

He ran a gentle hand over the now silky fur and let his face fall into it, admiring the fluffiness that tickled slightly against his skin like a tricolor balm. She smelled of velvety colorful flowers and petals, prominent cherry trees in a valley, breeze filled with the smell of wet earth after a beautiful storm behind a long dry spell, raindrops like caresses in the face.

She smelled vitality, zest and vigor.

She smelled like spring.

"H-Haru." He spoke without thinking. "Y-you, ah, you l-like it-t?"

Another meow. It was decided then!

Satisfied, Izuku held the kitten- Haru, in his hands and settled her back on his blanket, wrapping her up as best he could to protect her from the cold of the night. After that he wrapped himself in hers, curling into a tight ball to store as much heat as he could. The coldness had seeped into his bones along with the exhaustion, it was probably not a good idea to walk through the high ceilings with nothing more than a thin t-shirt in the middle of the morning. But he couldn't complain, it was worth it.

Izuku was already letting himself be swept away by the inconciense, shadows and nightmares waiting for him under heavy eyelids, when a soft paw hit him on his face on the forehead. The greenette opened his eyes to witness just the moment when the creature determinedly managed to slip under his blanket and snuggled tightly next to him, the heat settling subtly against his side. Izuku held his breath for a second in anticipation, startled by the sudden contact in a very vulnerable area, but breathed it out in a heavy sigh when he realized that the contact does not burn, sting or hurt, and feels comfortable and safe. It was a nice thought.

Well, this is how it will be then.

Izuku stretched out carefully and reached for the other blanket, spreading it over both of them. Then he carefully settled next to Haru in a way that he couldn't hurt her in case she moved during the night, but still kept her close to him.

And a warm, endearing feeling began to settle in his chest for the first time in many years. A nice, cozy feeling that was more than welcome, like warm, brightly colored fireflies, delicate wings buzzing and brushing his heart in soft ripples, matching the sweet, steady little purrs against his side.

That night, Izuku let himself be swept away by exhaustion without hindrance or sinister shadows out of the corner of his eye, until he finally left, lost in deep dreamless sleep.

A few days ago I found this meme and I couldn't resist, it's like, literally Izuku in a summary of these two chapters kasjaksk

Chapter Text

Izuku threw the different knives as he ran, at a considerable distance, in front of the row of different objects that he had pulled out of the trash, hitting his targets. He managed to pierce most but one or two, the sound of bottles breaking into fragments that faintly reflected sunlight into tiny flashes, accompanied by oxide and rust covered cans twisting, echoing in the small clearing of sand that Izuku had cleaned for this.

His collection was gradually growing, and he currently owned about six of different sizes and types. He certainly didn't complain, and he liked that everyone was different, he made him vary in his own calculations and pitches, forcing him to find new ways, and helping him to become more adaptable. After all he always had to be prepared to fight anything, it was one of the most important rules of survival.

He had made sure to settle in a safe distance from Haru, where she couldn't sneak in and get hurt. She was playing near one of the piles with a random object that she found and she looked quite entertaining, and the adorable sight inflated Izuku's chest with endearing affection.

Certainly his presence was becoming more and more pleasant and familiar, and he had realized that he no longer felt so alone. The first few days were a mess trying to adjust to the situation, carefully hovering around each other and trying to find how they felt most comfortable, but Izuku now dared to say that they were fine and she looked happy. He definitely didn't regret staying with her, and he could tell she felt the same about him.

He was starting to talk a bit more too, now that he had a motivation to do so. Or at least as much as he could.

It was… Difficult having to fight the mantra in his head, constantly whispering that speaking was not allowed by anything in the world, he needed to remain silent or the consequences would be devastating and not just for him, (also they, anything for them). There were still whole days that he couldn't produce a word, the ivy clinging tightly to his throat, his tongue stuck to his teeth, and he strongly suspected there would be many more. It hurt most of the time, his voice hoarse and rough as sandpaper from disuse, but at least that pain was diminishing a little bit more and more, and he always tried at last to make the effort.

And it was worth it. He liked the way Haru always tilted her head and those candid two-color eyes stared at him every time he spoke to her, as if she was paying genuine attention to him. Or the times she even responded with a high-pitched, soft meow back. Those days were always better than the others.

They were now in a small clearing that Izuku cleaned, with the warm, bright sun in the midst of the cerulean sky pouring over their heads, and a few feet from the waves reflecting faint sparkles like diamonds, accompanied by the sound of the surf in a noise of sweet and comforting bottom, a balm for his senses most of the time on-edge, especially his ears. It was almost impossible to disturb them there. It was certainly a strange scene, a teenager throwing knives and a cat playing with trash, but the greenette would dare to say that, discarding the piles of trash, everything looked almost domestic. Or as much as it could be.

Until the calm and beautiful atmosphere was cruelly destroyed by a few explosions, echoing in the distance. Both Izuku and Haru flinched, jumping in their places. Which was a shame, because seriously, what was the eagerness to interrupt the quiet moments?

Haru's ears twitched and tautened, alert, and then she leaped briskly and nimbly over one of the piles searching for the source of the noise, curious. Izuku instinctively covered his buzzing ears and did the same. There was nothing particularly divisible besides the occasional cloud of dust, but the noises and commotion made the situation obvious. Honestly, why did the daytime villains have to be so loud? They didn't know the concept of subtlety, they practically begged to be captured.

Izuku contemplated things for a moment and finally concluded that he might as well take advantage of this situation. He had to seize the opportunity to keep his mind occupied, and he could always learn something new and useful from his observations, or ultimately just hang out. They both sounded good to him.

With that in mind, he went back downstairs and began to prepare. He first put his things and Haru's makeshift toy in his backpack, and then the knives in his pockets, even though it was probably not the safest place to carry them. Oh well! Too late now.

Unsure, he put his hand to his neck, fingertips brushing the velvet, comforting himself with the softness of the material, and made sure the choker covered the entire number 09 tattoo on his neck, the numbers drawn in thick black ink that seemed to burn against his skin. He had been trying to dodge its existence, avoiding thinking or concentrating too much on it, but hey, it was a little difficult to do that when he was terribly aware of its presence on the left side of his fucking neck, a mark and constant reminder of them.

It was different from his scars. They did not bother him, in fact, it could be said that perhaps he was even a little proud of them. It was stark proof of how far he came, how he fought tooth and nail and blood to be here.

The tattoo was just one more proof of their control over him.

Izuku shook his head vigorously, in a weak attempt to just divert his thoughts, and proceeded to tie his tousled hair into a messy bun, except for a lock of hair dense enough to cover the right side of his face and, consequently, his prominent scar. They were all precautions that made him feel a little calmer when he went out into the street, so he was not so easily recognizable. He then tried to fit it all inside a black beanie that, like the choker, had- uh, sto- taken... Borrowed!

Yeah! That.

Oh, who was he kidding. Honestly, Izuku was pretty sure that he already crossed his self-imposed line of "don't steal unless he's desperate enough" now that he had Haru, resulting in occasional petty thefts. Because, more than anything, he did it for her and try to give her something better than what he was able to find in the garbage cans, even if it was every so often. And if in the process a few beanies and chokers, which were certainly more resistant than the slightly suspicious and improvised bandages, ran into his pocket, well, no one had to know. Plus, he made sure not to do it in small or family stores, where his actions would directly harm someone's financial stability. He wasn't that heartless!

Anyway, he was thinking of some way he could win even a bit of money, he didn't want to push his already poor luck too much and get into trouble, thank you very much.

And in any case, to date he had only done it a few times, almost nonexistent. It was difficult to rob big stores because all the time they were full and crowded, and the crowds and screams and noises made Izuku want to rip out his ears and run away. And he didn't really want to rip them off.

Yeah, Izuku definitely didn't love crowds very much, and he seriously doubted that would ever change, so the more he managed to avoid them, the better.

He made sure everything was in place and then looked in the direction where Haru was standing. He probably shouldn't leave her alone, she still hadn't fully settled in the place and there was a great possibility that she would start looking for him considering her attachment, and Izuku was not very fond of the idea that it would result in a kitten lost in this garbage maze. It was better not to risk it.

So the next option was for her to go with him. A backpack ride then! Regardless, she seemed to like it from what Izuku had managed to observe. She certainly did not refuse.

Izuku crouched down, arranged the things inside the backpack so that it was more comfortable and there wasn't something that could hurt her, and when he was finally satisfied, he gave a little whistle to get her attention. She immediately stopped what she was doing and looked in his direction. He gestured to the open backpack on the floor, and noticing it she immediately ran towards him and leaped inside, snuggling between the blanket and the notebooks.

When she was ready, Izuku hooked the backpack to his chest and tied the straps on his back for added security, and with that ready he hurried across the place to the stairs. It took a while, rounding a couple of corners, climbing, and taking a few twists and turns, lengthening the path unnecessarily as a precaution, adding in the fact that they had been on the shore, until he could finally see the ladder leading to the edge of the beach.

He followed the usual routine, he approached one of the nearby buildings that was abandoned and climbed the fire escape that was to the side up to the roof, and then began his favorite part of jumping from roof to roof with the breeze hitting him in the face in an almost cathartic way.

Little by little the commotion and explosions began to get closer, and Izuku arrived just in time to see a hero throw a villain, this one crashing into a nearby building, forming nasty cracks that expanded worryingly after the vigorous impact. Well, shit, that must have really hurt.

Izuku knew how painful it can be to hit a wall like that.

The greenette was installed on one of the buildings that despite it was at a safe and prudent distance according to his own judgment, at the same time being half hidden from indiscreet and prying eyes, it had a fairly decent view of the scene, thus that he was quite satisfied, Kami didn't want him to get caught in the middle of the fight, that would be really unfortunate to say the least.

He knelt down and carefully set the backpack open on the ground, and Haru immediately jumped out, then stretched out and squirmed in that lazy way that cats have, which was quite a cute sight. He gently petted the silky fur behind his ear as he pulled out one of his trinkets and placed them on the floor near himself, and then pulled out his notebook and an old pen that he had found that, oh- it didn't have much ink left.

Vaguely he made a mental note to get a new one, and Izuku walked over to the barrier at the edge and jumped on it unscrupulously, sat on the ledge and relaxed his back on the cold bars. His fingers already tingled in anticipation of writing down every single thing he was able to grasp, the pen twisting and fiddling between them as easily as his knives. And then he automatically began to examine the scene unfolding in front of him in more detail.

It seemed like it had originally been the attempted bank robbery that got out of control, if the shredded bills flying around here and there scattered around were anything to go by, and Izuku was pretty sure there was a bank not too far from there, a few blocks away. The fight was still at a critical point, where the villain had risen again despite slightly obvious injuries, and he was already fighting back, a furious expression twisted probably by apparent pain.

Huge tentacles of vibrant shades that dulian into maroon and brown hues protruded from the villain's shoulders where his arms had been a while ago. They were between two or three meters long, and moved diligently and swiftly, the suckers clinging to anything around them, interspersing between adhering to walls or buildings momentarily to move around the place with greater ease, encompassing a greater terrain, and simply wielding debris to hurl it hard in the hero's direction. And all the movements were executed with a dexterity that, Izuku had to admit, was ridiculously impressive, showing clear training both physically and especially focused on the quirk type, which had definitely not been in vain.

Which was not very good for the hero, who seemed to be at a similar level of ability. He was visibly struggling to find a way to stop him, launching attacks left and right trying to keep up with the villain's speed. His quirk was certainly… Interesting. It seemed to emanate shock waves and wind, some sweeping away anything near it, within a radius that did not seem to go beyond six or seven meters, and if it was observed carefully you could tell that they had different levels of destruction from each other. On the other hand, he also seemed to be able to focus them in only one certain direction, increasing the pressure and consequently causing a bit more destruction. These movements were less frequent though, with a considerable time lapse between each one. The force of the waves also seemed to help him jump to a higher height than the average person.

But the question was how the waves were formed or from where they were created, and immediately Izuku's mind was racing at a thousand kilometers per hour trying to find an answer. There was nothing remarkable at first glance that gave him any clue beyond the clearly striking style, typical of the heroes of daylight. The hero was in constant movement and using even the smallest muscle in his body, trying to keep the villain from leaving the perimeter, so neither were any tell-tale movements or actions.

As the fight continued, The greenette was able to begin to form a couple of theories. He was arguing strongly between the waves originating from the hands, these constantly closing and opening in certain patterns, or something related to the legs. His fighting style and footwork was a bit particular compared to that of other heroes, specifically focusing on staying firm in balance and stability due to the power of the waves, but still trying to be quite light and agile, even giving the impression that he was almost practically dancing. In addition, the feet were always touching the ground or something persistently, trying not to separate from some surface for long. This could also be due to the same need to stand firm against shock waves though.

Izuku kept watching, trying to capture any particular detail that might be missing, his eyes faithfully following every single maneuver of both of them, looking for some small slip, until...

There!

They both paused for a millisecond to catch their breath, clearly exhausted. And then, before the villain made the first move, the hero raised his hands and shuffled, ready for the next blow. Thanks to a small stumble on a piece of concrete though, that caused him to stagger just at that moment, a weak wave was produced that was clearly deflected from the original target, crashing in the wrong direction against nothing.

And there it was, one of the feet had momentarily lifted off the ground in the middle of the action.

Which summed up everything to Izuku's second theory. The waves were not produced by the hands, they were the feet, or more specifically the soles of the feet. So the quirk was probably based on the pressure they exerted against the surface, and the redirection and destruction levels depended on the way they exerted it, as likely varying between pressing down fully, only with the tips of the toes or the heel, which explained the strange footwork. Apparently both feet had to come into contact, if the stumble was something to go through, and Izuku would bet his leg muscles and bones were more developed, made to withstand the amount of force that was needed.

And wasn't that a smart move? He subtly confused the villains about the nature of his quirk, instantly creating an advantage in this fight and future ones, however small.

After all, if the quirk depended entirely on the feet, it would only be enough to… Disable them, to render it technically useless.

And Izuku could easily imagine many ways to do that.

Anyway! Despite that, there was something that... Bothered him, about this whole situation. The hero was talented and skilled, yes, but he was still making these flashy but reckless moves that did more harm than good, and while the police were still trying to evacuate the civilians who still remained in the sector, between him and the villain, more than once they were on the verge of leaving a civilian buried under the rubble or inches from hitting them by accident.

Then he caught a bustle out of the corner of his eye, and after that it didn't take long for the greenette to have a firm suspicion about the reasons behind the whole mess. The press and media were not far away from the whole battle which imminent end didn't seem to be far away, and even though they were heavily restrained by the police in an attempt to retreat to a safer place, most of them had a pretty privileged view, catching everything quite easily.

The hero was getting distracted, and his priorities were getting sidetracked.  

And Izuku didn't like it.

Because, well, yes, the daytime hero situation was all about recognition and fame, and this was one of the easiest ways to gain potential followers and fans, but in Izuku's opinion, there were limits, and the main point of it all was to save people, the most important thing.

This main purpose was being subverted though, and even although Izuku had only been out for a short time, he could already tell how the line between heroes and villains was becoming more and more blurred. 

And the most disappointing part of all this, was that he wasn't the first hero Izuku had seen with this pattern of behavior, let alone. 

There were fewer and fewer who prioritized saving people, and more and more who allowed themselves to be swept up without retort by the rush of fame and power, even going so far as to perform abject acts to get more. Many cases where if there was no attention and cameras, there were no heroes. It was as simple as they didn't care, especially those who suffered in the shadows. And an incipient aberration was slowly taking shape inside Izuku, wilting flowers ravaging infecting the still tender and young.

It was repulsive and loathsome.

It was disgusting 

Izuku wondered if it had always been like this.

Soon the fight became a contest of endurance, and there really wasn't much of a choice. Either the villain would find some way to disable the hero's quirk, escape and win, or the hero would find a way to disable the tentacles, catch him and win. But they wouldn't do that, probably, at least not at this point, then it was just who knocked who out first.

Soon, the hero won. 

Izuku let out a small sigh, finishing jotting down the last few notes as he vaguely watched the police take over the rest, the pen dancing fiercely on the paper writing symbols and figures of varying shapes and sizes, all in a code that had practically become Izuku's own language by now, reveling in just being able to get his thoughts down on paper in a partially safe manner. 

It was comforting, to say the least. After all it was a habit he cultivated from a young age that only grew stronger as the years went by. It became a survival instinct, something as easy and necessary as breathing. Figuring out how to move the right way through a given terrain and understanding his surroundings more precisely, analyzing subtle movements and expressions and what they meant. Studying the quirks and extracting even the smallest detail, leaving it blank. All this had saved him more than once in various ways.

Izuku knew he wasn't the best in the world at it, but he was also aware that it was a dangerous thing to do. They knew that under the right pressure and incentive he could be capable of many things, and letting them find out about it just meant one more way to use him for their own benefit, and in every scenario Izuku was able to imagine it all ended in atrocities and catastrophe. Many more deaths.

That's why he made sure to keep it a secret at any cost, it was best for everyone. It was his little secret, something he could control.

It was his alone. And now he didn't have to worry so much about keeping it hidden.

The greenette finished writing down the last words, and moved away to appreciate his work, the symbols parading in front of his eyes, thoughts and images recorded in shaky and unstable handwriting, checking to see if he was missing anything else. Well, anyway when he got back to the beach he would go over them one more time to detail them trying to educe more information, surely something had escaped him and-

Oh shit.

Izuku almost let the notebook and pen slip from his hands as the air abruptly escaped his lungs, and he suddenly felt very dizzy, a thought, or rather a reminder, crossing his mind after a long time. And suddenly, his fingertips no longer touched the cardboard or whatever the old notebook he was holding a moment ago was made of. No. Just the familiar, phantom sensation of the rough leather tingling in them, sending a shiver down his spine.

Worn and elderly leather of a particular brown color.

The diaries.

He- he completely forgot about the diaries. The journals he'd made sure to escape with that night and had dropped, hidden, so they wouldn't be found as he ran trying to escape the villain.

The diaries he had managed to hide the last few years in his cell that contained so many things of all kinds.

Diaries that were now on a random street, not far from where he escaped from, where any random person could find them.

How- how could he have been so stupid as to forget something so important?, that those journals were circulating around with the kind of information inside that he himself had written, and someone managed to find them was not... It was a bad thing, so bad. He should have looked for them as soon as he had the chance, he and his idiot, foolish head-

An insistent meow brought him out of his mind spiraling down, and then a small furry head gently knocked his elbow through the bars.

He turned around and scratched Haru behind the ear in acknowledgement. Then he took a couple of deep breaths to stabilize himself and quell the slight dizziness. He... He needed to calm down and focus, it wasn't wise to spiral down on the ledge of a ten-plus story building. Besides, a quick glance toward the horizon told him it was already getting dusk, it was time to head back to the beach for the day. He could try to solve the journals problem later. Right now, Haru demanded his attention, and Izuku wasn't about to deny it to her.

He stood and jumped over the railing, returned to the rooftop and grabbed his backpack to put the notebook away, oblivious to the creases and wrinkles that formed with the relentless grip he had on it, the knuckles bloodless. As he prepared to open it though, he could only stare at the notebook, and thoughts began to race again, full of static. He blinked to nothingness, and slowly Izuku's mind began to drift away from this reality, blurring out. There was a painful pit in his gut wiping out any trace of energy and all just felt… Bad, and it felt like at any moment he was going to vomit, breathing getting more and more agitated.

Then the meowing returned, more insistent.

Right, Haru.

"A-a-are y-you hungry?" The words barely made it out of his mouth, tremulous and almost unreadable through his suddenly locked jaw, slurred and cracking in several places. His throat burned, tight with an astringent taste, while his mind struggled with the mantra in his head that was rapidly gaining ground again.  

He sat on the floor on weak legs, Haru immediately at his side purring loudly, and began rubbing her head against his stomach soothingly. Izuku tried to open the backpack once more, struggled with the zipper a couple of times awkwardly, but finally succeeded and pulled out some food, depositing it on the floor for the kitten. He continued to take deep breaths.

He blatantly ignored the way his hands were shaking.