Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t like his mother hadn’t told him plenty of times that hero battles were dangerous — in fact, Izuku had heard the same thing from pretty much everyone in his life, including complete strangers whose names he didn’t even know and the internet — but for some reason, it didn’t hit him how true that was until it suddenly did.

Straight in the chest with the strength of what felt like a bus.

Or maybe a train.

…

Okay, maybe Izuku should rewind just a bit there.

It was just… hero battles had always been safe. Mostly Izuku got there after they’d ended, or just in the time for the climax, when the hero bravely used their quirk to win over the villain and the police would step in to make the arrest, and then the hero would smile and, maybe, if Izuku was lucky, stick around for a little while to hand out autographs.

(That was where the biggest part of his collection came from, after all.)

But today…

Today had been different. Today, Izuku hadn’t followed the sounds of battle, hadn’t looked for it, today it had just…

Happened around him.

And as it turned out, that made all the difference.

Izuku scrabbled at the weight on his chest. Oh god, oh god, he couldn’t move! He had always managed to arrive at the edge of any and all villain attacks, so he’d never really been in danger like this before.

Izuku struggled for a long moment before he managed to wiggle free. Oh god, he’d almost died. He stared at the train, looked back to the wall of the building and the shocked people inside, and then returned to looking at the train.

Izuku puzzled over how he’d gotten pinned for a moment, how the train had gotten so off the tracks, and then proceeded to pile-drive itself into a building.

Nope. Izuku didn’t have an answer. Maybe someone’s Quirk had sent it into the building.

Izuku heard screaming. Okay. He wasn’t sticking around for that. Hiding inside the train after it had just gotten launched at him and he somehow wasn’t run over by it sounded like a bad idea. A terrible idea. One that would give him nightmares. So that was a no-go.

He swung his head around to survey the building. Where could he hide that would be safe? Where he wouldn’t be in the line of fire? He could go higher, but he’d be screwed if the building came down, so he couldn’t hide in the building in case the building collapsed. So he had to get out of the building. Uh. But the way he came in was now blocked by the train, and he didn’t know where it was safe to go, or where he could hide…

Panic clawed at his insides, but Izuku forced it down.

He needed to get out of here. Somewhere behind him, something exploded. Izuku lurched forward, wrapping his arms around his head as smoke filled the air and shrapnel went flying. For once, he wasn’t looking for a fight. He needed to run from it, before he got himself killed.

Any escape was blocked off by the wayward train and the mass of panicked passengers. On the other side, there was the building. Izuku caught sight of a broken window and winced. If he could get through the building, then he could get out another way, or find somewhere to hide — at least, somewhere that didn’t have a train through half of it.

He scrambled through the window, cutting himself on the glass, then stumbled in. Above him, the ceiling creaked under pressure. Izuku didn’t waste any time, pushing his way through and darting out of the building.

…And, apparently, right into the fight.

“Crap,” Izuku hissed through his teeth.

The villain Izuku had only seen flashes of was now right in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” they asked. Between their hands, a fire grew, light flickering and the heat intense. Izuku stumbled backward, heart in his throat.

This was much too close to a fight.

He held up his hands, backing away, and the blooming fire tore forwards—

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut. Kaa-san had been right.

Someone grabbed him, pulling him out of the way, and Izuku gasped. He blinked his eyes open and found himself staring at his savior’s back, the villain blocked by the view of an oversized blazer.

“Alright, young man?”

“Tha-thank you,” Izuku wheezed.

“Stay behind me, please.”

Izuku took a closer look. The person who’d saved him was tall, blond, with an angular frame. A civilian, like Izuku, though he’d acted like a hero. He dropped a grocery bag to the ground, discarding it in favor of standing between Izuku and the villain.

The man didn’t look particularly impressive. He didn’t look like he could take on a villain, or do any better than Izuku in a fight.

But the way he carried himself… the way he’d saved Izuku… somehow, standing behind this man, Izuku felt safe.

And then the man coughed, blood dripping past his lips and Izuku realized that he needed to do something. Nothing dangerous, nothing reckless, nothing insane. But if this man was hurt and still pushed himself to act like a hero because of Izuku, then Izuku needed to return the favor somehow.

The villain continued with his posturing, arms waving wildly with fists already aflame, somehow twisting the man’s actions into a personal affront and an insult the villain couldn’t ignore.

Izuku wanted to tell the man shielding him about monologuing and how if they didn’t interrupt, the villain could remain distracted long enough for a hero to arrive. But it seemed the man was a hero watcher too, because every time the villain seemed to be winding down his spiel and winding up his throwing arm the man managed to rile him up again with a sentence or two that had the villain screeching and launching into a full breakdown of his backstory unprompted.

Izuku was impressed but now it was his turn to pull his own weight. Carefully, slowly, keeping crouched behind the man’s tall form, Izuku poked at the fallen grocery bags to get at the large bottle he’d seen peeking out. He managed to slide it out silently, resisting the urge to cheer as he spied a second bottle beneath the bananas and slightly squashed loaf of bread.

He stood up slowly, bottle clutched to his chest, and then turned just enough to hide his hands from the villain’s view as he started shaking them for all he’s worth.

The man in front of him had a look of confusion, then realization, then awe, and Izuku couldn't help but beam back at the stranger as he slipped one bottle of sparkling water into the man's waiting hand behind his back.

“Bottles are harder to aim than cans are,” Izuku murmured, fingers already poised on the cap of his own makeshift weapon, “so make sure you cover the hole slightly with your thumb.”

There was a boom in the distance and the villain turned to look.

In the split second the villain looked away, both Izuku and the man shot their caps at the distracted foe. The man’s smacked home in the center of his forehead; Izuku’s struck his shoulder.

The villain dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and twitched slightly before going still. Both bottle cap shooters stared at him for a long moment before they looked at each other and breathed with relief as he stayed still.

Smiles crept onto their faces and Izuku started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Dangerous villain, apprehended by childhood bottle cap trick. No one would believe him even if he ever did tell the story.

It seemed surreal, even to Izuku, as he laughed with the man who’d saved him, the knocked-out villain lying where he’d fallen.

Once the laughing ceased, the man tied up the villain in a way that suggested to Izuku that maybe he was not quite as innocent a civilian as he seemed from the surface.

“That was awesome!” Izuku couldn’t help but gush. “I totally thought he was going to go whoosh at us with that fire — gosh, how hot do you think that was? It didn’t look as hot as Endeavor’s, and he could only do it from his hands, I think… I wonder what other differences there were…”

Now that the danger had passed, Izuku’s brain had fallen back onto its usual patterns at villain fights, it seemed — analysis. His fingers itched for a pen and his notebook, and his hand jerked toward his backpack before he realized it wasn’t on his back anymore.

“Oh no,” Izuku said, suddenly stopping.

The man stopped too, his face suddenly very concerned. His eyes went very wide as he rushed over — he even let go of the villain so suddenly that the villain’s head hit the floor with a sound that made his savior flinch guiltily.

“What is it? Are you alright, my boy? I’m very sorry, I should have asked before — you’re not injured, are you?”

As he spoke, his hands checked Izuku’s limbs quickly. He had to have some kind of training, because he was doing all the things Izuku had seen medics do after the fights ended when they had to treat civilians — well, Kaa-san sometimes did that too when Izuku fell or tripped or cried too much, but that was Kaa-san. This man definitely felt like he knew what he was doing, though.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Izuku countered quickly with a smile. He really was fine too — well, sure, his arm was still scrapped up a little from the glass, and his legs were feeling wobblier by the minute, but none of that was like, bad.

He’d gotten worse at school.

Oddly enough, the man didn’t seem entirely reassured by that, and he made Izuku sit down.

And then he coughed up blood again, and Izuku made him sit down (you know, after screaming and getting awkwardly reassured that this was apparently normal). Like that, he was almost even a normal height too.

“So…” Izuku started as they sat — they were right in front of the unconscious villain, so they could keep an eye on him. “What’s your name?”

Mystery Man coughed again. For some reason, he looked almost panicked, but he eventually cleared his throat. “It’s, erm, Yagi. Yagi Toshinori.” He smiled awkwardly.

Izuku smiled back brightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Yagi-san! I’m Midoriya Izuku. Thank you for saving me!”

For some reason, that made Yagi-san look even more uncomfortable, not less. “Ahahah, I think it was a group effort, my boy. You… that was a very hard situation, but you did very well.”

Izuku felt the telltale prickling of tears behind his eyes, and sniffled. “T-Thank you!”

“Aiya! Don’t cry, don’t cry, that wasn’t…” Yagi-san patted him on the back slowly — and very lightly, too, which was super odd. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Izuku mumbled back, wiping tears from his cheeks. “It’s just—”

He gaped. “Oh my god!”

Yagi-san’s hand froze on his back. “What is it?”

Izuku tilted his head up to stare at him, still gaping. “We took down that villain with water bottles. I— We didn’t need a quirk to do it!”

Yagi-san blinked back at him, something… strangely tired flashing through his eyes. “I… suppose we didn’t, did we?” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost like he was talking to himself.

“We didn’t!” Izuku repeated, half-cheerful half-disbelieving.

It felt impossible, but in a different way than it had earlier, when all this had seemed like was a comical situation. Now, it felt impossible because it meant Izuku’s dream might actually be possible, like the universe was finally giving him confirmation for trying so hard to keep on believing for so long and—

Izuku didn’t know what to do with it.

He licked his lips and sneaked another look at Yagi-san, who was now looking down at his hands with a slightly dumbfounded look.

“Do you…” Izuku shut himself up, biting his tongue to keep from letting the words out. His cheeks felt hot — this was stupid, he shouldn’t—

“Do I what, my boy?” Yagi-san asked, frowning gently.

Izuku swallowed. He started nervously picking at the scabbing blood on his arm, but stopped with a hiss when it started stinging and bleeding a little again. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but Yagi-san merely smiled widely as he handed Izuku a fresh tissue to press against the blood.

Yagi-san had a very comforting smile.

“Well?” Yagi-san prompted.

“Oh, erm, well, it’s just… Do you… DoyouthinkIcouldbeahero? … Maybe?” Izuku’s voice rose and broke on the last word, and he flinched back, just a little, his eyes finding the ground very quickly.

It was a little cracked, actually, back where Yagi-san had been standing — which was odd, because Izuku could have sworn this room should have been okay, and the damage didn’t look like it could have been made by the train at all, and in the end, the villain hadn’t even really used his quirk except for trying to scare them, so how could the ground have—

Yagi-san cleared his throat, and Izuku’s eyes snapped back up to his face.

He looked… conflicted.

No, not conflicted — lost. Mmh, no, that wasn’t quite right either. He seemed… thoughtful. Yes, that was the right term for it.

Yagi-san looked like he was considering something really hard — something he hadn’t thought he was going to have to think about yet. He had the same look of shocked wonder-slash-panic Kaa-san had worn when Izuku had told her he had had biology lessons already and she didn’t need to tell him all about the ways his ‘body was changing’.

(Ugh.)

“I think…” he started, before stopping to swallow. Something glinted in his eyes, and he nodded — just the tiniest bit, and mostly to himself, but it was there. He smiled, too. “I think you can be whatever you want to be.”