Chapter Text
Across from his booth, he sidled into the seat. “I should have expected to see you here.”
Somehow, Deku managed to find his voice, pausing for only a moment to make sure his voice changer was working properly. The scanner was running as quickly as he could manage. “Eraserhead.” His voice warped, near-identical to how it had sounded in class, and the hero’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “I am mildly impressed that you knew who I was. I don’t often show my face around here.”
“You forget,” the hero murmured quietly, keeping his voice low, “UA has many security systems.”
“I’m well aware I was caught on camera. Your class is quite interesting, yes?” Eraserhead was smart, and dangerously so. Meeting in person with him was one of the worst decisions he could have made. Should he need to get a message to Kurogiri without his quirk, he would be hard pressed to send the text without garnering suspicion.
Wait. What did he care about a hero knowing that a villain was texting someone? It wasn’t like that was cause to attack him for sending a text.
(He still didn’t send it.)
Eraser’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “So you have been watching.”
“It’s my job,” he explained simply. “And speaking of which, were you aware that your principal offered me one?” God, Deku loved poking at people, waiting for them to grow impatient and snappy. He was basically an internet troll in the flesh.
The hero clenched his jaw. “Nezu informed me. That does not mean I agree with it.”
“Why not?” His voice was light and playful. “The way I see it, hero, my work is incredibly beneficial to you all. Why do you not trust me?”
“Because,” he lowered his voice further, eyes flashing with a deeply concealed rage, “I have contacted you before. And you sold information to me without a second thought.”
Grinning softly, Deku recalled the conversation. He knew right away that it was Eraser just by how he spoke. “Oh, I know.”
The smallest bit of anger seemed to melt off of Eraserhead’s face, and just that was a stretch. Deku was good at reading facial expressions, but underground heroes got special training to hide how they were feeling. If Eraser wasn’t one of his favorite heroes, he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell.
“You-”
“I know everything that goes on with my clients. And your username was…something about cats, right?” Deku leaned in closer. “I know everyone I sell to, Eraserhead. You’d be surprised by what I’m able to find.” And it was true. Those people that he never responded to were those he didn’t believe would be able to pay, or the ones that he deemed too dangerous to obtain such intel. He was no idiot. He knew what he was doing.
Falling silent for a moment, Eraser’s eyes flashed a darker shade of red as his quirk activated. “Don’t you even think about trying anything.”
“I don’t have a quirk,” he said delicately, only then noticing that he had a hand perched on his laptop, “so it doesn’t matter if you use yours. And it’s neutral ground here, hero. If you attack me here, you declare war.”
The hero was definitely aware of this. He could not spend his days traversing the underworld, the darker side of humanity, for him to not recognize it. The black market, an underground, digital organization, was part of his domain. It was Deku’s, as well, and there were many places they both knew about. If this place violated the peace, there would be no stopping the hell that the villains would rain down on them.
Deku delighted in watching Eraser’s expression, carefully pinging his emotions. Frustration was the most evident, then anger, followed by an attempt at calming himself down.
“So what did you want from me?”
“Answers.”
“I may or may not give them, Eraser.”
“I want to know what your intentions are at UA. You would not have accepted that job without a reason. You don’t do anything without a reason.”
Leaning back in his chair, Deku looked away, giving the impression that he was considering an answer. “Maybe I just wanted a way to work with heroes without arrest warrants being issued with my name on it.”
“Villains get warrants, Deku.”
“I’m doing a job,” he replied simply, careful to not let anger bleed into his voice. “I just don’t really mind who I sell to.” Eraser opened his mouth, and before the hero could say anything else he raised his tone. “And I’m tired of explaining this to every single person that I meet. This is enough. I’ve spoken to All Might, to your detectives, to Nezu. I’m tired of it.”
“No matter how ‘noble’ your cause-”
“No!” Deku got to his feet, and slammed his hands down. “You treat me like a child who doesn’t know right from wrong. I am well aware of what I’m doing. I know that this is wrong, Eraser, and I’ve made my peace with that. I’m not doing this for money, or for fame, or any other damn reason that normal villains wreak havoc.
“I don’t want to take down hero society; I want to prove that there’s something wrong with it! ‘Hero’ doesn’t mean the same thing it did when the commission was established—which, by the way, is rotten to the core, which I’m sure you already know. As much as I hate All Might, as much as heroes like Endeavor make me want to vomit, I don’t want to uproot this society from its very core. Do you even know what kind of work I do?”
“You-”
“I sell the information of heroes that I disagree with, or have committed a crime that they have not been prosecuted for! I sell this information to villains with the capacity to get rid of them—and even if they don’t, I still get paid—I sell to the news, so they can spread the information and ruin a hero’s career, or to people who can actually do something about it! And don’t forget, with how dangerous some of these villains are, I will give information to heroes as well! I don’t charge them, or at least I didn’t, depending on what they wanted from me!”
His voice had risen far above normal speaking volume. It was surprising enough that the employees had not already asked him to keep it down.
“You heroes act like you’re so high and mighty, yet none of you will go help the people who actually need it when it counts. What about the kids who just lost their parents? Or maybe someone who lost their job and now doesn’t have a home to go back to? I help people through the way I know how; by getting rid of those who don’t do their jobs the way they’re meant to! That’s exactly why I despise you, and All Might, and all you damn teachers that don’t know how to make real heroes and those that don’t just rely only on their power!”
Still, nobody came to quiet him. Most likely, it was the fear. Fear of villains and high-strung vigilantes with temper control issues kept them at bay and civil, as if their very lives depended on it. Perhaps, sometimes, they did.
Whatever the case, there was no reply.
Bowing his head, Deku quietly began picking up his things, sliding cables into place on his belt and flashdrives into his pockets. “I do apologize. That was out of line.” And it was. Deku wasn’t supposed to be violent. Deku had no need to be.
For the moment, the hero seemed too stunned to speak. While Eraser was gathering his thoughts, Deku picked up his laptop, quickly doing a mental sweep of the area to ensure it was clear before he sent any messages to Kurogiri.
Then, in a quiet voice, Eraser spoke. “Hero society failed you.”
“No shit.”
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t be changed.”
“It’s already too late for me. I’m as good as dead, no matter what you try to pull.” He took a step backwards. “But thank you,” a mock bow, “for your consideration.”
Aizawa stood up as well. “We’re not done here.”
“Yes, we are,” he countered, dropping a few bills next to his untouched cake. Deku cast it a longing look before turning the other way. Meeting with dangerous people in cafes needed to stop. Immediately. Two was already far too much.
Before he could move very far, a hand caught his wrist. “Deku. We are not done here.”
Wrenching his arm away, Deku glanced back, taking another few steps away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Kid, I told you that-”
“You’re not getting anything from me!” As stealthily as he could, he dove into cyberspace for half a second, giving himself enough time to type out a message and location for Kurogiri. Thankfully, Eraser didn’t seem to notice. “Keep your hands off me.”
An employee appeared just to his right. “Sir, the cafe-”
“This is not an arrest,” Eraserhead said exasperatedly.
“Be that as it may, our policy is peace, no matter the background. Start a fight, and you will be thrown out.” A strong-looking man took a stand just over his shoulder, tilting his head almost threateningly from side to side.
Surely recognizing that this was a bad decision, Eraserhead backed off, raising his hands, palms out. “Alright, alright. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Deku voiced. “I have friends in high places. Leave me alone.” A clear threat. He didn’t make many of those. Most of his words only implied violence.
As much as he liked this hero, or at least how he operated, this little exchange had him bristling and on edge. It had been a while since something had riled him up so badly. Probably not since someone tried to skimp out on their deal.
“Leave my students alone, and stop selling information on heroes. I will leave you alone after that.”
Deku laughed, a dark and evil, menacing thing, something that made even Tomura shiver.
“Now if I was going to do that, I would have stopped after the first sale.”
With that, he turned his back, trusting those behind him to keep the hero at bay. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he yanked it out, checking the message. Kurogiri was ready.
The familiar void that he was now so used to appeared out of nothing, crawling out of a crack in the fabric of the universe. It started off small, a seemingly purple flame, growing into a large fog that surrounded him within seconds.
“I’ll be seeing you, Eraserhead.”
And he was tugged through the gate, a calm, cool feeling washing over him as he passed through time and space itself, emerging on the other side in the main room of the bar. A breath of relief passed through his lips, and he allowed his shoulders to slump. “Thanks for the save, Kurogiri. I don’t think I’d have been able to keep that up much longer.”
“Keep going with your streak and you’ll end up arrested,” Tomura grumbled from the bar, some kind of smoothie on the smooth wooden surface in front of him. “Don’t get into those situations when you’ve got shit to do.”
Removing his mask, Deku sauntered over to the counter, setting his things down as gingerly as possible. “I didn’t get arrested, though, did I?”
“We’re going to kill All Might tomorrow,” came the response. “If they know you’re involved…”
“It’s my public declaration as a villain, I know.” Izumura rolled his eyes. “As long as All Might’s dead, I really don’t care; I’ll deal with the consequences. Is everyone ready to go for tomorrow?”
“I thought that was your job.”
“I don’t see it in my contract.”
“You know what I mean.”
Grinning softly, Deku replied, “Do I?”
Shigaraki groaned. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Thank you.” He picked up his laptop, ignoring everything else, and backed away. “I’m headed to my room now.”
“Get your shit done before tomorrow.”
“It’s all done. Bring me along; I can’t miss this.”
Maybe after the incident with Aizawa, it would be wiser to stay far away, especially if he couldn’t use his quirk and monitor for any approaching heroes. Not only that, but if he was unlucky, the villain in charge of jamming their systems would jam his own too, and leave him nearly defenseless.
However, Deku knew his worth. All For One needed him in the picture. He wouldn’t allow Deku to be captured so easily, not that it would be. With Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and Nomu around, the heroes would have a hard time getting close enough to grab him. Not only that, but they were above using hostages. There was no threat, provided they didn’t choose to execute him on the spot, which was unlikely, especially if they became aware of his age.
Retreating to his room, he quietly shut the door, turning the small lock to give himself some privacy. It was quiet, almost too much so. Soundproof paneling lined the walls, keeping noises both in and out. Things were strewn across his chaotically messy desk, the only neat thing being the notebooks, all nineteen of them, stacked up in the corner of his desk. He was almost done with the nineteenth—full of a compiled list of the quirks and weaknesses of the latest batch of lackeys he had to analyze—and there was a spare notebook or two sitting under his bed already. There were clients he needed to reach out to, emails he needed to respond to, but he ignored all of that in favor of turning on some soft music and completely collapsing on his bed, like a puppet that had lost its strings.
He had been sleep deprived enough for this. Late nights and early mornings had not done him well. Maybe that was the reason he’s been actively and inadvertently seeking out the heroes; his judgment has been too impaired. Izumura would have to fix that before it got him killed.
Deku didn’t bother to change out of his suit, aside from unbuckling the belt with his flashdrives and other slightly fragile equipment. There had been much headache and every ounce of skill poured into procuring the information on them, and he would be damned if that meant they were destroyed. The security systems had been upgraded recently, and he really didn’t want to bother breaking back in just to replace something he accidentally broke.
The music dulled his senses, filling his ears, nestling into his brain. He closed his eyes, allowing it to completely block our all other thoughts, and to remove his stressors. It was late, and he was tired, so his body was easily able to relax, and slump bonelessly down into the cushions. Izumura couldn’t be bothered to pick up a pillow to use, instead curling up right on top of the comforter.
It was only when he realized that sound wasn’t reaching his ears that he woke. Kurogiri was lingering by his computer, hand hovering over the keyboard. The twelve-hour music playlist that Deku had painstakingly gathered had just been paused.
“I’m a little surprised that turning this off was all it took to wake you.”
“How’d you get in my room?” he demanded, sitting up quickly. Deku was sure he looked like a mess, with tangled green hair and crumpled clothes. “I’m sure I locked the door.”
“Locks are not an issue for me,” came the answer. “It is time.”
An hour later, he was fully geared up, and stepping into an open warp gate. His phone was clenched tightly in his hand underneath specially designed gloves, barely making contact with the screen. His laptop had not been taken, because of the bulk. The helmet over his head concealed who he was, but Aizawa would know instantly. The students would learn of the hacker Deku.
Kachaan especially.
And if Izuku Midoriya’s identity got leaked?
He had died once. He could do it again.