Chapter Text
There were heavy footsteps pounding on the pavement, strangled gasps forcing their way through a mask that was wrapped snugly around the lower half of the face of a vigilante clad in black. He could hear his pursuers getting closer, closing in. How had everything gone so wrong in such a short amount of time?
The vigilante vaguely notes that it’s a nice night, the moon shining in the sky and not a cloud in sight. Not too cold, not overly warm. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he thinks that he’d be pretty okay with dying on a night like this. However, after actually processing that thought, immediately changes his mind. He doesn’t want to die at all, thank you very much.
His breath hitches once again as a stabbing pain shoots through his side, bleeding heavily from his earlier wounds. They were gonna be a bitch to deal with later. If he even had a later.
Black spots dancing across his vision motivates him to drag himself into an alleyway, before collapsing into a nearby dumpster and shutting the lid after him. Hopefully this would be a good enough hiding spot. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it’s not. He vaguely recalls some meme, an old man shrugging with the caption guess I’ll die.
That’s where he’s at right about now.
The footsteps of his pursuers getting dangerously loud causes him to cease all trains of thought immediately and focus on the much more important task of not being found. He even holds his breath, although his body really kind of needs oxygen right now.
“Damn, we lost him.”
“He can’t have gone very far, especially with those injuries! He may be known for stealth, but he can’t just disappear into thin air!”
“And what if that’s his quirk?”
“Then why bother running in the first place?! I don’t care how, just find him! We’ll be in deep shit if he gets away again- ”
The voices start moving away—thankfully—and Midoriya Izuku releases the breath he’s been holding. His organs thank him profusely, having been deprived of the oxygen they’ve craved for far too long. That was a close call, closer than ever. He really was getting too ballsy.
He peeks out of the dumpster, checking to see if there’s anyone unsavory nearby. Luckily, he doesn’t find anything, and takes that as his cue to vault out of the dumpster. At least, that was his intention. His side screams in pain, brain short-circuiting, and he ends up face planting out of the dumpster instead. Sweat plasters his messy head of curly hair to his forehead, and he quickly pulls down his mask and vomits all over the ground. And a little bit all over himself, if he’s being honest.
Izuku just as quickly readjusts the mask, far too suspicious to go around without it until he got home, no matter how sick he was feeling. His identity was much more important at this point. Who would’ve thought that both villains and heroes alike would care so much about the face behind his mask?
He shakily slumps against his previous hiding spot as he tries to calm down. Lord, he really needs to fix himself up as soon as possible. For the billionth time that night he wonders where everything went wrong. He’d only wanted to help.
While the green-haired boy starts to catch his bearings, he realizes for the first time that night that he has nowhere to go. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem, he could deal with being on the streets for one night. But with this injury and those people looking for him…
It’s getting worse, so much worse. He knows he’s about to pass out in the alleyway, left for anyone to find him, but it’s not like there’s anywhere to hide even if he could make it there. His eyelids keep getting heavier, and despite his best efforts, his body shuts down and he descends into a peaceful, peaceful sleep.
He doesn’t stay that way for long. But in those brief moments of bliss he remembers how things were before everything had turned into a shit festival.
_______________
Two years ago
Fourteen year old Midoriya Izuku sits alone on a park bench. The sun was getting lower, kissing the horizon, and he knew that his mother wouldn’t be home for at least another hour. It had been a few days since the sludge villain incident, and after he’d saved his (supposed) friend and gotten chewed out by the heroes (who weren’t even doing anything) , he had trudged home alone. Unknowingly to him, if he’d stayed just a few minutes longer he would’ve caught the attention of the Number One Hero yet again and had a life changing conversation. However life just liked to rob him of these experiences it seemed, so none of that had happened, and instead he had spent the next few days wallowing in his own misery, thinking that there was no possible path he could take in order to become a hero. All Might had said so himself.
Izuku clutches his latest volume of his Hero Analysis Notebook in his hand, still burnt from his previous run-in with a certain Kacchan. It was salvageable but… What was the point if he couldn’t even use it?
As he mourns his dying passion he fails to notice a man walking towards him, suspiciously checking his surroundings as if looking for something. The man walks up to Izuku and clears his throat, jolting the teen out of whatever pitiful train of thought he’s in.
“Hey, kid, you got the time?”
Izuku stares blankly at him, not registering the question.
The man frustratedly furrows his eyebrows together and waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Izuku’s brain finally understands what is being asked of him, and he quickly stutters out an apology, face heating up from embarrassment. “Ah- Yes! Sorry, sorry, I’m just kind of, er- Kind of out of it?”
Silence.
“And?”
“And what?”
The man pinches the bridge of his nose. “The time! What time is it?!” This kid was a moron.
“Oh right-! six o’clock, it’s six!” This was the most embarrassing conversation of his life. Forget whatever social skills he thought he’d had. “I’m so sorry, I’m not usually this socially inept, I swear!”
The man sighs and takes a seat next to Izuku. “Good, I’ve still got a few minutes.” Another beat of silence. “Rough day?” he asks, making conversation as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket and lights it. The boy next to him barks out a depressed laugh.
“Rough life.”
Jeez, what a depressed little munchkin. But the man still has time, and so far he’s pretty entertained, so he pushes a little more. “Care to enlighten me on what’s got you in such a depressed mood? Or are you always like this?”
Izuku vaguely recalls a warning that every kid is taught from a young age. Don’t talk to strangers. But, hey, people his own age would hardly talk to him anyways, so what’s the harm? It wasn’t a very good argument on his part, he admits, but he isn’t exactly in the mood to argue with himself, so he lets it go.
“I… recently had to give up on my dream of being a hero.” Even saying it out loud sends a shooting pain straight to his heart. “I thought that this”, he holds up the almost ruined volume of his notebook, “would be enough to get me there but…” He trails off, not wanting to say anymore. Tears were already starting to pool in his eyes again, and he really didn’t want to add crying in front of random strangers to his almost completely filled out Pathetic Bingo Board.
The man peers at the charred notebook with mild interest as he takes a drag from his cigarette. “Hero Analysis for the Future?” Intriguing, to say the least. “May I?” He holds out his hand, clearly non-verbally asking if he could parse through said notebook. He still has time, he thinks, it’s fine.
The green haired teen raises an eyebrow at him, but hands the notebook to him nonetheless. The man skims through the pages, eyes widening at each entry. What he sees causes him to drop his cigarette completely, and leave it lying forgotten on the ground. Dozens of entries on heroes with incredibly detailed information written on each page. Overviews of their powers, personalities, strengths, and most importantly: weaknesses .
The now wide-eyed man glances at Izuku from the corner of his eye. This book was incredibly valuable, and he could most definitely sell it for a very high price to certain people in the criminal underworld. He can think of at least ten different powerful villains who would kill to get their hands on this kind of information right off the bat.
He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice level. “Well, if you’re not going to use it anymore, I’ll take it off your hands! I’ll even pay, name your price.” He puts on his best used-car-salesmen smile and prays that this kid is naive enough to take him up on his offer.
Izuku, however, isn’t so easily swayed. He gives the man a suspicious look. “Why would you want it? You don’t think it’s creepy?” Something about the way this conversation is going suddenly gives Izuku an odd feeling, like a thousand insects are crawling over his skin, looking for the best point of entry. Not a nice feeling.
“Creepy? No, no, I actually think it’s quite incredible! It’s just…” He tries to think of some innocent excuse that the kid would buy. “Me and my friends, you see, we have this fantasy hero league game we play. We debate over which heroes could take other heroes in a fight, and this information right here would be very, very helpful to me. So, what do you say?”
“...Well it’d probably just end up useless if it stayed with me…”
And that is how Midoriya Izuku accidentally sells his Hero Analysis Journal to a small time villain. An event that turns out to be a trigger for a series of events that cause an entire city to turn upside down and be shaken to its core.
Later that day, after the sun has finally set and the mysterious man has made off with the Hero Analysis Journal, Izuku is walking home, alone. The money the man had given him weighs almost heavily in his pocket, and he’s still amazed that the man was willing to pay so much money for a measly homemade journal made by some kid that he didn’t even know.
The words that they had exchanged still ring uncomfortably in his ears, and his throat feels tight. Why does he feel so sick?
It’d probably end up useless if it stayed with me
His younger self would be ashamed that he’d given up so easily. Heroes didn’t give up. But it’s not like he was a hero anyways. He was still just a quirkless, friendless kid. A joke.
Creepy? No, no, I actually think it’s quite incredible!
Izuku stops in his tracks as he mulls that sentence over. Incredible. A stranger thought that what he could do was incredible, had actually bought his journal. Maybe this was a sign?
Or maybe he’s just being ridiculous. After all, a prestigious hero school like U.A. would never accept his application, what with him being quirkless. And without proper guidance how could he ever learn to fight super villains when they had incredible powers? He was positive that being quirkless wouldn’t nearly be as rough if someone would actually give him a fighting chance.
Sure, he’d love to prove them wrong, fight crime even without a quirk. Become a hero adored by everyone, live to help and save others. But without guidance it was impossible, futile. He’d never even be able to get a hero license, so the dream is officially dead. End of question. He can’t fight without a hero license--can he? That’s called vigilantism , the rational part of his brain reminds him.
That’s illegal.
Takada Itsuki is currently considering himself to be the luckiest man alive at the moment. Not only is he going to be be on time for his meeting for once, but now he has something nice to bring to the table. He glances again at the charred notebook he’s carrying, impatient to show it off at the meeting. He was finally going to earn some respect in the criminal underworld, and if not, then at least he could get a pretty penny for the notebook. Way more than he’d given that kid, that’s for sure. Thank the stars that the brat was so naive.
He strolls into the meeting place, a dingy little restaurant in the bad part of town. It’s currently 6:45, and he’s right on time. For once. The others glance up from their table in the corner, surprise etched on their features from seeing their friend on time. What a rare occurrence.
He takes a seat next to a woman with long, braided hair. She merely looks at him, unamused. “You sure picked a wonderful meeting to not be late to, Takada. ” His name easily rolls off her tongue, and he can’t help the smirk that adorns his face at her tone.
“Oh? And why is that, Yamazaki? We meeting with someone important today?” Excitement stirs in his chest at the expression that crosses Yamazaki Hina’s face. If they happened to be meeting with one of the big dogs today then this would be the perfect opportunity to present the notebook.
The man sitting across from them lets out an ugly snort. “You have no idea. Biggest client we’ve had so far.” This day was really coming together for Itsuki. He can already imagine himself rolling around in all the money that he’s about to obtain.
The doors to the restaurant open at that moment, and they all turn their heads towards the motion, impatient and hungry for their guest to arrive. Yamazaki won’t stop tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the surface of the table.
A woman and two of her attendants walk in. The woman is dressed inconspicuously enough, wearing a dark overcoat that contrasts the pale blonde of her hair quite nicely. Her eyes scan over the trio sitting at the table, and she walks over to them purposefully, heels clicking on the dark wood floor.
She sits down at the head of the table, where an empty seat obviously reserved for her had previously sat. Her attendants dutifully take their places at her side, as stone faced as you’d expect. Her eyes rake over the three of them yet again, making them feel bare and exposed. She practically radiates power and authority.
Itsuki’s excitement only mounts. She’s definitely a big fish, and he is currently the luckiest man on the planet. He grips the notebook tightly in his hand under the table, not wanting to reveal the prized possession so outwardly yet. He’s the first to speak up. “And who do we have here?”
Yamazaki stomps on his foot under the table and the unspoken warning in her glare is enough to shut him up for the moment.
The man sitting across from him, Mizuno Ryota, props his head on his hands and fixes Itsuki with a dangerous look. “I’m sure even you’ve heard of the infamous Overture? Unless you’ve had your head so far up your own ass recently that you’ve missed word of her empire slowly spreading throughout the entire criminal underground?”
Ohhhhhh, yes. He’s definitely heard of her. Of course a new villain on the rise, such as herself, wouldn’t stick to the usual ways of buying information, not like the others. No, she was clearly looking for a cheap, reliable option. Or perhaps their company’s name had also been growing, big enough to where someone as powerful as Overture had picked up on them. Either way, it’s incredibly thrilling.
Overture herself, however, does not look excited. She looks bored. Although perhaps that’s years of experience on learning how to control what she gave away about herself through her emotions. Her face contorts into a slight frown, disgust apparent in her eyes at the possibility of Itsuki not knowing who he’s dealing with, leading to him inevitably underestimating her.
“If we’re finished with the small talk, could we actually get down to business? Do you have what I asked for?” Ah, yes, what she’d asked for was information on a certain underground hero who called themselves Jack of All Trades. Apparently the hero had squashed one too many of her recent operations.
Yamazaki slides a small pamphlet across the table. Overture catches it with ease, and flips the small book open. Her eyes run over the pages, checking to see if the information is adequate. Apparently she finds it so, and motions to her attendants. The one on her left sets a sack down on the table and Mizuno grabs it and looks inside. He nods to Itsuki and Yamazaki, signaling that all of their payment is present.
“Are we done? I have another matter to attend to.” Overture stands, readying herself to leave, when Itsuki speaks up.
“Just a moment, ma’am. Will you be considering doing any long-term business with us?”
Yamazaki and Mizuno share a startled look with each other, not expecting Itsuki to be so forward with the statement. None of them had even discussed any future plans with the Villainess, and it was an unspoken agreement that this deal was a One and Done type thing. Overture’s reputation will not allow her to deal with any small time players without attracting attention and rumors that she might be weakening. Itsuki’s small company does not deal with any Big Fish for very long, their reputation depending on selling information to desperate small time players. Any long term business would be a disaster for both parties involved.
Unless, of course, you have a trump card.
Overture does not look pleased at the statement. She squints at Itsuki before letting out a small huff. “This tiny glimmer of information, as accurate as it may be, does not garner any trust with me whatsoever. Unless you have something that will actually be of use to me, long-term , then no, I am not interested in your long-term business. ”
And, oh, that is exactly the wrong thing to say to him if she wants to get rid of him, because he definitely does have something that will be of use to her. Long term. He can already smell the piles of money.
Itsuki sets the kid’s notebook down on the table, and smirks up at the villainess. Her eyes shine with interest, he can tell, though she keeps her face expressionless. “This is something I snagged earlier, and I think you’ll find it very interesting.”
Yamazaki is furious, he can practically feel the anger radiating off of her. “What on earth are you doing?! You didn’t tell either of us about this beforehand!”, she whispers into his ear through gritted teeth.
Overture reaches over and picks up the notebook. She raises her eyebrows at the cover and fixes Itsuki with an almost confused look. “Hero Analysis for the Future?”
“Just read it.”
Her eye twitches at the command, but she lets it go and opens the book to the first page. She blinks a few times, trying to register the outpour of information the book is giving her. She quickly flips through more pages, becoming just slightly uncomposed enough to let the trio know that whatever resides in the book must be something worth reading.
As she finishes skimming the pages she looks back towards Itsuki, a new kind of hunger apparent in her expression. “You wrote this?”, she asks completely and utterly different from before. Some sort of insane smile is pulling at the corner of her lips, and she looks upon the man with a new kind of respect.
“Hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but unfortunately I did not.”
“Who did?” She looks slightly less pleased now, frustrated at the lack of information about the author.
“I never learned his name. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m going to sell you this book, and I can tell that you’ll buy it, judging from the way you’re frothing at the mouth just from skimming the pages.”
All traces of whatever emotion was behind her eyes before is now gone. Mizuno lets out an awkward laugh at the silence following Itsuki’s statement. “Wow, what a turn of events! We’re terribly sorry for the outburst, ma’am, our friend here has an awfully big mouth- ”
Overture interrupts his apology, exploding all at once, furious and demanding. “You will not tell me what I will and will not do. You will tell me the name of the author of this book, because if you are not the one who wrote it, I have no use for you. You say this will make me interested in a long term deal with your company, and yet you have no way to obtain any more of these books, considering you’ve no idea the name of the person who wrote them. I will only ask you this once. What did the author of this book look like, and how can I find him?”
This conversation was heading in a completely different direction than Itsuki had wanted. He grits his teeth and glares coldly at the woman standing in front of him. “Our company is known for obtaining and selling information, whether we’re the ones with the original information or not. Even if I did know the author I wouldn’t tell you, because that’s for me to know and you to pay to know-”
He suddenly stops, the breath vanished from his lungs. He stays like that for a moment before clutching at his throat with his hands, unable to breathe in or out. His eyes are watering now, and he’s suffocating- no something is forcing its way out of his throat and it burns-
“It is unwise for you, the head of a small company, to challenge someone like me without even an understanding of what my quirk is. Tell me, do you know what my quirk is?”
He can’t speak, can’t breathe, can only focus on stopping that thing from forcing its way out of him. He doesn’t know why, but he fights to keep it in and he’s failing-
“It’s a direct correlation with my name, you know. Overture? It’s a term that’s related to music, it’s defined as an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera--an introduction of sorts. My quirk is also music related. I can easily reach into the recesses of your mind, understand your entire life in the blink of an eye. And then I just…” She makes a pulling motion with her hand. “Pull it out. Little by little. Your entire life in the form of a song. Very beautiful, isn’t it? However, if I pull out too much… Well, I guess you’re about to find out.”
Yamazaki and Mizuno are quiet, terrified, as they watch their friend slowly suffocate, not understanding what was happening. Mizuno had warned Yamazaki years ago, when they first started the company, not to let Itsuki on board. He’s too much of a loudmouth. He was right. And then Itsuki opens his mouth, tears streaming down his face, and lets out a blood curdling shriek, too loud to bear.
The pair can’t even comprehend the sound coming from their dying friend--It’s too loud and it hurts and they can’t help but cover their ears. Yamazaki notices Overture’s attendants doing the same, but strangely Overture seemed completely fine. She almost looked to be… enjoying herself.
Then it was over as quickly as it began. Itsuki stops, motionless for a moment, before limply falling to the ground. The Villainess smiles pleasantly at the remaining two. “We’ll be in touch.” Then she’s stepping over a lifeless form on the ground, and she’s gone.
As it turns out, being a vigilante is not illegal! Well, it is, actually. Just not for Izuku! Ever since the manifestation of quirks had become a regular occurance in society, the legal definition had changed to “ A member of a self-appointed group of citizens who uses their quirk to undertake law enforcement in their community without legal authority. ” Which was both good and bad… Good because he’ll get to help people. Bad because he’ll sort of be doing it illegally (even if it was technically legal). It feels a lot like cheating the system.
Heroes don’t do things like this.
But heroes do help people. And heroes don’t give up either.
Telling himself these things whenever he feels unsure about the whole situation doesn’t exactly make him feel better. Not to mention there’s the factor of somehow sneaking out at night and not telling his wonderful mother about his new hobby. If you could call it that.
No, she didn’t deserve to be lied to, but she’d never let him do it otherwise. He hated to admit it, but she hadn’t believed in his dream to be a hero. Memories of that night flood his head-- I’m so sorry Izuku --and why won’t his brain ever leave him alone?!
He sighs and turns off his computer screen. The legal definition of vigilante disappears off of its surface and fades into an inky blackness. The stress was already getting to Izuku and he hadn’t even done anything yet.
But the desire to help people still burns inside him, and the feeling won’t go away. Whenever someone brings up the fact that he’s quirkless, or whenever someone says he can’t be a hero, or whenever he starts to believe it too, it’s like his skin catches on fire, unable to stop burning for even a moment, screaming Please, I only want to help people!
What are you supposed to do when the entire world tells you you can’t achieve your dream? There’s no handbook for this sort of thing, and believe Izuku, he’s definitely looked. All of the answers he’s found so far tell him to keep moving, keep pushing, never give up. And yet when he tries to put it to practice it only backfires.
Was becoming a vigilante really the right thing to do? He didn’t have any fighting experience, didn’t even have a quirk. How was he supposed to do this?
Well, there was only one way to find out.