Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun had gone down hours ago, the city now sleeping with it. Nobody was out, except criminals, villains and the occasional bar-hoppers. Crickets chirped. The wind howled.

It howled so loud he nearly missed the scream.

His feet stopped at the ledge of the building. It was an apartment. He had to be quiet if he didn’t want to alert the residents. He crouched low, lowering his hood so his ears could hear better. The scream came from the west.

He bolted. As he came to the edge, he leapt. He swung his arm out, pressing two fingers to his palm. A white substance shot out from his wrist, catching on the roof of the next building. It pulled him forward, and he fell into a roll. He jumped up and started again.

The scream wasn’t far. It was only a few buildings down. He skidded to a halt, sitting down against the ledge. He peered over, spotting a man in dark clothing approaching a woman. The glint of something shiny caught his attention. The man had a knife.

The vigilante pulled out a phone, and called for the police. He pocketed the device, making sure the end was facing the opening. 

“This will teach you not to ignore me,” the vile man sneered. He swiped, aiming for the woman’s chest. She screamed and ducked as the blade sliced her shirt. She backed into the wall with an audible thud.

The vigilante took the opportunity with the gap and jumped down, landing in a crouch. He stood up, moving his hair out of his face. Normally he’d have his hood, but it had been torn by a villain earlier that night. He didn’t worry too much, though, as the lighting was terrible and his hair was much too dark to make out the color.

He held out his hand, more of the substance shooting out towards the villain’s hand. He yanked, taking the knife away. The vigilante pocketed the weapon.

The attacker was too shocked to notice. He was too busy trying to get the substance off his wrist. 

The vigilante briefly looked back at the woman he was protecting. She was cowering, her entire body shaking and tears poured down her face. Her outfit gave the idea that she was returning from the night shift from a restaurant. He turned his attention back to the man in front of them.

He seemed to shake off his surprise, and immediately charged at the masked man. One thing the vigilante noticed was how much taller the man was than him. He could use that.

He dodged the sweeping arms, sliding under the man’s legs and spinning around. He continued to duck and dodge. He held his arms behind his back, one wrist wrapped around the other. He led the man out of the alley, leaving room for the woman to escape.

The attacker swore as each attempt to strike the masked man failed.

Faint sirens could be heard from the east. The vigilante smiled under his mask. The villain didn’t seem to hear them yet.

In his brief moment of distraction, the man had actually gotten a hit on him. The masked man doubled over, pain erupting through his stomach.

The vigilante smirked. That was what he was waiting for.

No longer held back by laws, he stood and got into a fighting stance. The man seemed to laugh and came barreling towards him. The masked man dodged again, this time kicking him to the ground after he turned. The villain fell, and the vigilante shot the webbing out, essentially chaining the man to the ground.

He watched the villain struggle for a while, before taking the phone out of his pocket. “He’s pinned down,” he said, his voice heavily modified. He heard the officer on the other end swear. He glanced up, seeing no traces of the woman. “The woman he tried to assault is in the alley.” He hung up.

He hurried over to the woman, who had now sunk to the ground and was sobbing hysterically. He helped her up.

“Thank you,” she wailed, clinging to his arm. “How can I repay you?”

The vigilante shook his head. “Your safety is all I want.”

She sniffed, head turning as the sirens came right in front of them. She looked back over at the man who saved her, but he was already climbing up the wall and disappearing into the night.

The man ran, lifting his hood back up. He looked back at the scene he left behind. His eyes briefly met another’s. He lifted his hand in a mock solute, and jumped off the back of the building.

Eraserhead sighed and rubbed his temples, blinking his tired and burning eyes. That kid was going to be the death of him.

                                                                     _____________

Sometimes Aizawa Shouta regretted expelling his entire first year class. Not because he realized the potential they had, if there was even a hint of potential, they stayed. No, it was because Yamada Hizashi often had him help grade his students’ papers.

So that was where he was right now, hunched over their shared office with papers scattered everywhere. He didn’t understand why Hizashi was so insistent on having him help; Shouta was okay at English at best. He could hold a conversation, sure, but it wasn’t fluent like Hizashi.

And of course, Hizashi chose that moment to remember what else they were out of and instead of adding to the list on the fridge, he decided whatever it was he needed now. So Shouta was left with the assignments, and Hizashi was perusing the various shelves in the store.

Shouta sighed, crossing out a verb tense with red ink. Hizashi made a mistake leaving Shouta to do the grading. He knew the other man was more lenient with marking points. Learning a new language is intense, Hizashi reasoned. Shouta didn’t disagree, but students didn’t learn if you were constantly giving them points they didn’t earn.

At least at this point in the school year, the students could tell which teacher graded their work. They tended to feel less shitty when they found out the local grumpy, insomniac gave them an F instead of everybody’s favorite energetic, crazy man.

The familiar sound of the front door slamming open and hitting the wall made him drop his pen. “Shouta!” Hizashi yelled, his voice slightly panicked.

If it wasn’t for that, Shouta would have elected to ignore him. Maybe go to their room and sleep. A nap sounded nice.

But instead, he hauled himself out of the chair and headed towards the office door. Someone better be dead for how much his husband was shouting.  “Hizashi,” Shouta started, clearly annoyed, exiting the office and walking down the hall, “I swear if you broke the door again-“

Hizashi holding a young boy in his arms.

Oh.

Someone was dying.

The boy groaned as Hizashi carefully moved around the house. Shouta could see his leg was severely disfigured. He sighed. They could call Recovery Girl, but she was taking a much needed vacation. They’d have to go to the hospital.

“Mind telling me why you brought him here instead of the hospital?”

Hizashi’s face flushed. “You have the car keys.”

If Shouta sighed one time, he was going to lose it. He gestured for Hizashi to head to the car while he turned around to grab the keys off the hook by the kitchen. Catching up to Hizashi after putting his shoes on wasn’t hard, considering he wasn’t trying to jostle the boy around.

Shouta slid into the driver’s side while Hizashi lay the boy in the back, then hopped into the left side. The boy cried out as the car’s engine tumbled the vehicle. Hizashi was quick to reassure him.

Shouta hit the gas, and they drove off towards the hospital. Hizashi kept talking to the boy, trying to take his mind off of the pain. The kid had stopped crying, and was now panting and attempting conversation.

Shouta slammed on the break as a car sped across in front of them. The sudden stop shook the kid, making him cry out. Glancing in the rearview mirror, the tired man saw the kid grab his leg before wincing and pulling back.

“Sorry,” Shouta grumbled. Luckily, the rest of the ride was smooth.

Pulling in front of the hospital entrance, Shouta let Hizashi out so he could get the boy inside. He waited to see them disappear through the doors before finding a parking spot. Luckily there was a spot two rows away from the entrance, so he didn’t have to keep his husband waiting for long.

When he walked inside the building, he saw Hizashi and the kid sitting in the waiting room. Shouta looked around, noting the other people with more serious injuries. They’d most likely be waiting for at least thirty minutes.

Shouta sat down next to his husband. He glanced at the kid, and noticed he was scribbling on a clipboard. Hizashi followed his line of sight and whispered, “He’s filling out the paperwork.”

Hizashi rested his head on Shouta’s shoulder. A few minutes later, Shouta felt a tap on his knee. He looked down and saw a pen. The kid was leaning forward and holding out the clipboard. Seeing that Hizashi was falling asleep, Shouta carefully moved his head off and grabbed the clipboard from the kid, standing up. As he walked towards the front desk, Shouta skimmed the information.

The kid’s name was Midoriya Izuku and he was 15-years-old. The hero frowned when he saw a lack of contact information. There was an address, but no phone numbers. Did his parents not have a phone or something?

At any rate, it wasn’t Shouta’s place to pry. The chances of seeing the kid after this were slim. And with the condition his leg was in, he’d be concerned if he saw him wandering the streets anytime soon.

The nurse at the desk took the clipboard and pen from his hands and smiled in thanks. Shouta nodded and made his way back to the chairs. Hizashi had woken up and was rubbing his eyes.

Time passed in a blur. People were called for their turn, and soon it was theirs.

“Midoriya?” a nurse called out, scanning the room.

The kid stirred, and attempted to stand up. Hizashi was quick on his feet and held his hands out, grabbing the kid to steady him. Hizashi would have just scooped him up again, but now that the kid was more aware of everything he clearly didn’t want that.

So Hizashi helped him walk, or hop, towards the nurse while Shouta followed behind in case anything happened.

They arrived at the X-ray room, and another nurse came along to help the kid. The nurse who called him turned to the adults.

“I noticed a lack of information on the sheet,” she said, handing the clipboard to Hizashi, who was closer. “Even if you do check him out today, we still need it for the records.”

As Hizashi was reading the sheet, Shouta said, “We’re not his parents.”

The nurse stilled. “You’re not?” She tilted her head. “Then where-”

Hizashi flipped the sheet of paper back down and handed it back to the nurse. “I found him in an alley on my way back from the store.”

“Oh, dear.” The nurse tapped her pen on the side of the clipboard. “That complicates things. Well, then, I guess if you’re not his parents you don’t have to stay. You are free to go in and visit, but it’s not necessary.”

Hizashi practically brightened, but was shot down by a glare from Shouta. “Sho, we really should-”

“No, Zashi. You have papers to grade, and I have patrol in a few hours.” The underground hero crossed his arms at Hizashi’s pout. “And besides, I’m sure his parents are looking everywhere for him. They’ll find him eventually.”

Hizashi continued to whine, but followed Shouta out of the hospital.

As they got back into their car, Shouta turned to his husband and asked, “Did you at least buy what you needed?”

Hizashi nervously laughed, avoiding Shouta’s eyes. “Nope.”

Chapter Text

Izuku hobbled down the empty sidewalk. He shivered as a cool breeze washed over him. If it weren’t for the street lights at the corners, it would have been pitch black. His leg ached every time he moved it strange.

He sighed, looking around. It was too late for the busses to be running. And it wasn’t like he had any money on him anyway. All of that was back at home. Hopefully.

He grimaced as he remembered being forced to tell the nurse at the hospital why nobody was coming to pick him up, why nobody was listed on his sheets. He remembered the dread of overhearing the nurse and a doctor talk about orphanages. He hadn’t been quite sure it was him they were discussing, but how many orphaned kids ended up in the hospital?

A lot, actually. But he wasn’t taking any chances.

So that night when most of the staff had gone home, Izuku took his only opportunity. It was hard, it was painful, and he had almost gotten caught twice.

If only he hadn’t broken his leg from that fall. The blood loss he could handle, but it had been a while since his leg had been out of commission and he forgot how hard it was to move. And how loud it was.

He hadn’t even realized the blood loss he suffered until he woke up with small stitches in his thighs.

But it didn’t matter now. All he had to do was get home and put the whole ordeal behind him.

Luckily for him, his apartment wasn’t too far from the hospital. Unluckily, he was on the second floor and the apartment didn’t have an elevator. It took him five minutes just to get up the flight of stairs. He kept wobbling even with his crutches.

He walked passed a small group of people in the hall as he approached his apartment. The group talked amongst themselves, but their voices stopped when Izuku plucked the sheet of paper hanging off his door.

He saw them exchange worried glances out of the corner of his eye. He read the paper, and crumpled it between his hands. He heard it tear.

A pair of feet approached from behind. Izuku looked over his shoulder to see his neighbor, Chie, looking down at him.

“I don’t suppose you have extra money for rent, do you?” Izuku asked.

Chie shook her head, kneeling down to match his level. “What did it say?” The other two people with her slowly came forward. Izuku eyed them wearily. He wasn’t too familiar with them, and he was pretty sure one of them was a villain but it didn’t matter.

“He’s changing the locks if I don’t pay by tomorrow morning,” Izuku whispered.

Chie frowned. “That bastard,” she muttered.

Izuku shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll just do more commissions tonight and go to the bank tomorrow.”

Chie gave him an unimpressed look. “You know commissions don’t pay that much.” Izuku squeezed his eyes shut. She was hinting at the raised rent. It was 10,000 yen higher. There was no way he’d get that much in time. He’d run out of customers.

Tears Izuku didn’t know were there started running down his face. Chie pulled him against her chest, being mindful of his leg. He sobbed into his arms.

“As much as I hate to say it,” she whispered, “there is the homeless shelter.”

Izuku shook his head. He really didn’t want to go there. The one nearby had a terrible reputation. Reports of items being stolen, women being sexually harassed, and just general abuse from people and even some of the staff.

“You’re not sleeping on the streets, Izuku.”

“I’m not going to that shelter. I can protect myself.”

She sighed and pulled back. “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about that leg.”

Izuku scoffed. “Who would fight someone with a cast?”

“A lot of people.”

Fair enough. “I’ll be fine.” Izuku backed up. “I just. . . I need time to think.”

He unlocked the door to his apartment and walked inside, slamming it shut. He leaned against it, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but he had to get going. He needed to pack his things.

The apartment was bare, for the most part. He was the only one there, so he didn’t need a lot of furniture. The living room just had a couch, a table, and a TV in the corner.

His bedroom was where everything of value was kept. It held his computers, his small stash of cash, and his notebooks.

Izuku hobbled into the bedroom. The walls were bare except for the lone All Might poster above his bed and the calendar above his desk. His desk was covered in his notebooks, one of which was open. In the middle of the chaos was one of his computers, which was open and still on somehow. The bottom right corner flashed, signaling he had a commission.

He sat down, closing the open notebook and organizing the others into their respective piles. He had a pile on heroes, one on villains, and one on commissions. He had to keep those first two safe.

With the notebooks settled, he moved the laptop closer to him and clicked on the notification. His business account on Instagram was pulled up. He had three DM’s. He clicked on the first one.

Needle_Minder: Hey, are your commissions open?

QuirkyCommissions: They are! How can I help?

The potential customer took a while to respond.

Needle_Minder: I’m a hero student and my teacher’s upset that I’m not making progress with my Quirk. How much for three pages?

QuirkyCommissions: Three pages is ¥3,159 or $30 . You just have to pay through PayPal and send a clip of you using your Quirk, 30 seconds to a minute preferably.

The person didn’t reply, so Izuku checked the other two DM’s. One of them was just a thank you for the analysis, and the other was asking him to lower his prices. He deleted that one. Now that he was legally homeless, he couldn’t afford to lower prices.

While waiting for Needle_Minder to either pay or move on, he grabbed the top notebook in his villain pile. He opened up a Word document that was filled with multiple analyses just for villains. He just needed to enter one last entry before he could get rid of the notebook.

When he started his analysis commissions, he knew how dangerous it could be. He knew he was helping villains. He didn’t mean to, but he didn’t like to turn down offers. He usually found out they were villains the next day when an attack appeared on the news and the villains were following his advice.

It made his stomach twist and he usually spent the next few hours crying.

He nearly shut down his business after the first attack, but it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else who wanted to do good. He wasn’t capable of running background checks, so he just had to trust his gut.

He preferred to write out the analyses on paper. It helped his thoughts flow better. When a villain or hero notebook was filled, he copied it onto a Word document which was then stored on a hard drive. The notebook would then be burned later that day to prevent anyone finding it.

He may accidentally help villains, but there was no way he was letting them get their filthy hands on the notebooks. Who knew what they would do with it.

As he typed up the last villain, a notification popped up. Needle_Minder responded.

Izuku clicked back over to Instagram and pulled up PayPal. Sure enough, the money had been sent through and there was a video in the DM’s.

Izuku set the villain notebook aside and picked up a commissions one. He flipped to the nearest clean page and started writing. The person’s name was at the top of the page. He clicked the video and watched.

The clip was a close-up of their hands. Someone was filming as both hands were shown.

“I call my Quirk Needle Fingers,” he said, chuckling, “not the most inventive name, but I’m not very creative. I can make needles come out of my knuckles.” Metal poked out from under the ridges. “They’re attached to thread. I mainly use them to stab and scratch.”

Izuku paused the clip and scribbled. Questions immediately swam through his mind. How far can he extend them? Are the needles strong? Is he able to tear the thread off? Would new needles appear? Would it hurt?

A new clip popped up, throwing Izuku out of his thoughts. He set his pencil down and clicked on it. The clip was Needle_Minder sparring with someone who appeared to be a friend. The background looked like a gym, so Izuku thought they were on school grounds. After all, Quirk use outside of a hero school without a license was illegal.

At first Izuku thought they weren’t using their Quirks, but then something flashed by Needle_Minder’s knuckles. If Izuku squinted and got close to the screen, he could make out the smallest hint of metal sticking out.

Izuku scribbled. Good idea, makes the villain underestimate them.

Izuku observed that some needles were thicker than others, particularly the ones on his thumbs. The ones on his pinkies were the thinnest. He wondered if he could change their size.

He finished both clips, repeating them many times before finishing his pages. The first page was about observations. He hoped he hadn’t written anything too obvious. The second page was about weaknesses. If his wrists or fingers broke, he wouldn’t be able to use them. And from what he could tell, Needle_Minder couldn’t control the thread.

The last page was questions and tips. He liked to fill it up with more tips than questions, but neither commissioner nor Izuku seemed to know much about the Quirk. So he had just listed most of the page with questions. He’d send a message that if Needle_Minder answered them, he’d do more analysis for free.

If it wasn’t his source of income, he’d do all commissions for free. But alas, you needed money to do anything.

He finished up the pages, making sure his writing was neat enough, and took pictures on his phone. He opened up the Instagram app and sent the images. He closed the notebook and laptop and slumped in his chair.

He spun around, looking around his room. Tomorrow morning, he’d have to leave most of his things behind. He knew it was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

He had three bags. He’d leave all the furniture, obviously. The All Might poster. He’d burn the notebooks before going to bed.

Clothes got one bag. Items he couldn’t bear to part with like pictures of his mom and his technology got another. The last bag would be reserved for however much packaged food he could get at the convenience store. He also needed to get his mask from the dumpster.

Izuku blinked, just realizing the late hour. It was probably near midnight. The packing would have to wait.

Instead, he got into his bed, set an alarm, and closed his eyes.

                                                  _________________

It was ten  in the morning when he started packing. He got everything he wanted onto his bed so he could sit down and rest his leg and not have to constantly bend over.

He was rolling up his clothes so they’d fit better when his phone buzzed. Setting the shirt down and pulling his phone out, he saw he had a message from Needle_Minder.

Needle_Minder: Thanks, man! I’ll have to test out those questions and get back to you. But I totally ended up commissioning a pair of scissors that can only cut through my thread from the support course at my school. The needles grow back, but it hurt when I found out.

Izuku wanted to respond, but he didn’t have time. The landlord would stop by any minute and kick him out, with or without his things.

He stuffed the shirt into the bag. He reached for his hoodie, only to find it wasn’t there. He groaned, remembering the event two nights ago.

He had been in the middle of a fight on the rooftop. It was dark out. Izuku didn’t like how close they had been to houses, but beggars can’t be choosers. He had been ambushed by three villains.

He knocked two out, but the third had snuck up behind him and pushed him off the ledge. He managed to slow his fall, but still ended up with a broken leg. The villain clearly hadn’t seen that, or he would have gone down to finish the job. Instead he got his two buddies out.

The first thing Izuku had done was take off his mask, hoodie, and shooters and shoved them under a dumpster. If anyone walked by, they wouldn’t recognize him.

He just hoped they were still there. It wasn’t the end of the world if they weren’t, he could get a new hoodie, and hopefully get Hatsume to make new shooters and a new mask. His fingerprints weren’t on them thanks to his gloves.

Izuku zipped up the bag and started the next one. He wasn’t bringing too many items with him, so the bag was smaller. He saved the biggest bag for food.

His computers went in first. Then his empty notebooks (the others were burned). Then whatever photos of his mother he had. The only All Might plush he had. Any chargers. Multiple pens.

He paused, looking at the empty bed. He’d have to find a new blanket. That meant he’d have to stop by the bank. The cash he had on hand would be put towards food.

He swung the clothes backpack over his shoulder and the bag with his things went around his shoulder and neck so it hung by his side. The food backpack stayed in his hand as he stood up and grabbed his crutches.

It would be hard to maneuver with everything going on. The clothes bag would be slipping and he’d have to stop to fix it. Not to mention, the combined weight of both bags was pretty heavy.

But still, he had a journey to make. Two actually. The store, and then wherever the road took him. He wasn’t sure if he’d find another place that took in kids without question. He might have to leave Musutafu entirely. Hosu might be nice. Although crime there was pretty high recently, and heroes started patrolling there more.

That would put a damper in his nightly plans. Though, it wasn’t like he could do much with his leg out of service.

Izuku huffed and finally left the apartment. He briefly thought about returning his key, but since the locks would change he didn’t see the point. So he just slowly hobbled down the stairs. He wanted to throw his bags down the whole way, but bending over with a bulky cast was not easy.

The sidewalks were crowded, as expected on a Sunday morning. People were bustling through their routines, heading to jobs, kids were off to play. Izuku even passed a few unknown heroes. He knew they were heroes due to their outfit. Nobody but heroes walked around in bulky gear or spandex. He didn’t know who the heroes were. He’d have to look them up later.

Speaking of which. If he was homeless, how was he going to do school? There was an Internet cafe somewhere, but the prices were ridiculous. With how slow his commissions were these days, he’d run out of money within the first week.

Maybe he could use the library. He did have a card.

Izuku shuffled passed a group of kids and was about to head into the store when he remembered the dumpster. He turned and walked into the alley next to him, and after making sure no one was around, used the bottom of one of his crutches to reach under the dumpster and drag out what was hidden.

His hoodie slid out. Izuku bent down awkwardly and scooped it up. He pressed around, feeling the mask dig into the fabric. He quickly stuffed it into his clothes backpack and hightailed it out of the alley. Now he could go into the store.

The cashier greeted him, silently questioning the bags but not saying anything. Izuku nodded back, picked up a basket, and made his way down the aisles.

He could stock up on ramen. It would last long, and he knew how to start a fire. He just needed a pot or something like one. He ended up putting four packs of ramen into the basket. He could make it last twice as long if he broke each block in half. He survived on less before.

As much as he wanted, he knew he couldn’t afford any meat. Not only would his money run out, but he would have no way of storing it. He’d have to eat it all in one week at the most.

Maybe he could save up and buy katsudon at a restaurant. It wouldn’t be as good as his mothers, but was anything ever as good as what a mother can make?

As he continued his shopping, he caught a glimpse of long, blond hair. He turned his head, and there stood the man who saved him. Izuku tensed up and tried to slink away, knowing that if the man saw him he would definitely talk to him.

He was so close to getting into the next aisle when the man called out, “Hey, Little Listener!"

Izuku sighed and turned to face him. The man looked relaxed, if his outfit was anything to go by. He wore jeans and a bright red shirt. It didn’t look like it suited him, but maybe he had been in a hurry. A pair of headphones hung around his neck.

“You sure you should be walking around town with that leg?” The man asked, placing a can of something in his own basket.

“I’m fine,” Izuku replied quickly. He really had to leave, before-

“What’s with the bags? You running from something?”

Izuku couldn’t help but flinch. “N-no, I just. . . I’m.” Quick, quick. What lie sounded good? “I was getting something from a friend’s house and needed to stop at the store before going home.” That should work.

The man frowned. “What kind of parents would let their injured child wander around?” He seemed to whisper that to himself, but Izuku caught it. The kid slumped his shoulders. “How about I give you a lift home?”

Oh. Oh no. That was not good.

Izuku shook his head. “N-no, that’s okay! You don’t need to. I can-“

The man continued. “Nonsense! I can’t just let you walk with that leg. What if you hurt yourself again? Besides, helping people is what heroes do.”

Izuku froze. This man was a hero? Like a Pro Hero?

He squinted. Now that he thought about it, he did look familiar. Same blond hair, same mustache, same headphones.

Oh no. It was Present Mic. Izuku knew Present Mic wasn’t on the case, but he was friends with the Pro Hero that was. What if he told him about their encounter?

No, that was silly. Nobody knew who he was outside of his costume. Present Mic didn’t know and had no reason to suspect Izuku was Kumo.

The hero seemed to take Izuku’s silence as confirmation, and helped him finish his shopping.

Izuku didn’t seem to grasp the situation fully until he was sitting in the passenger side of a car.

He didn’t have a home. When the Pro Hero inevitably found out, he would be thrown into the foster system. His entire life would be ripped away. He’d be forced to stop his commissions, he wouldn’t be able to stay Kumo.

He was royally screwed.

Chapter Text

The car ride was the most horrible experience Izuku had ever been forced into. It was worse than fighting on rooftops. It was worse than Kacchan’s explosions. It was worse than a year ago.

Ok well. Maybe not worse than that. But it was still pretty bad.

Present Mic kept trying to make conversation. Izuku knew he wasn’t trying to do any harm, but it was just weird. Izuku only answered yes or no questions after giving his address. Present Mic made a face when he realized where that was.

Izuku knew he had lived in a bad neighborhood, but it hurt to see that. He had friends there, friends worth protecting. Like they ever needed it, though. Living there forced you to learn how to protect yourself, willingly or otherwise.

When they got to the apartment complex, Present Mic grabbed two bags from Izuku to lessen his struggle.

Izuku’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding as they got closer to their destination. He hoped and prayed to every god he could think of that the landlord hadn’t changed the locks yet. He could just hide out in the apartment for a few minutes and then head in the other direction. Towards Hosu. Away from the apartment, away from Present Mic and other heroes.

The gods did not seem to be on his side that day. When Izuku tried to put in his key, it wouldn’t budge. He pushed harder. It wouldn’t give. He sighed, shoulders dropping. He left the key halfway in the hole and looked over his shoulder.

“Funny story,” he said. “The locks were changed.”

“Do your parents change the locks often?” Present Mic asked, looking around the hallway. “This isn’t the safest place, can’t blame them.”

“No, I’ve been evicted.” There, just ripped it off like a bandaid.

The hero looked even more confused. “Are your parents out looking for a new place? I can drop you off with them.”

Izuku blinked. How dense could a hero be? “I don’t have parents.”

It took a while, but it eventually registered. “Oh! Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever.” Izuku shrugged. “Now if I can have my bags, I’ll just go to the homeless shelter.”

A hand caught his elbow as he tried to move passed. “Wait a sec, Little Listener. I think I can help you.”

Izuku really shouldn’t be trusting a stranger, Pro Hero or not. But he sighed and let the man lead him back to his car. Once he was buckled in, he let his head rest on the window.

The drive to wherever Izuku was being taken was a lot longer than the drive to the apartment. They passed by houses, parks, stores. They even passed U.A. Izuku stared at the building until it physically hurt his neck to strain it.

It turned out that Present Mic actually lived about a five minute walk away from campus. Which, that was to be expected considering he taught there.

They pulled into a driveway of a pretty nice house. It wasn’t too big, like some heroes tended to have. But it clearly had room for two people. If Izuku were to guess, there were at least three floors.

Present Mic snapped him out of his thoughts by grabbing his bags out of his lap and exiting the vehicle. Izuku followed suit.

“Where are we?” Izuku asked.

Present Mic seemed startled, as if Izuku should know. Then he slightly shook his head and grinned. “My house!”

“I think this is kidnapping.”

Present Mic unlocked the front door. “Is it kidnapping if you have no legal guardian?” He kicked the door open. “Shouta! I’m back!”

Upon hearing the loud voice, two soft meows came down the hall. Izuku gasped when two cats appeared. One was clearly still a kitten, with black spots on short, white fur. The other one, the older one, had long, orange fur.

The kitten immediately went to work, sniffing Izuku and running around his legs.

Present Mic chuckled. “That’s Blizzard,” he said. “That’s Truffles.” He motioned to the orange cat that seemed to want nothing to do with the stranger.

“I’m sure Fluffy is around here somewhere.” Present Mic took off his shoes and entered the house. “Probably with Shouta in bed.”

Izuku stayed in the doorway, not wanting to bring his dirty shoes on the carpet. He couldn’t take them off without sitting down and there wasn’t a chair nearby. Present Mic, sensing his dilemma, assured him that as long as he didn’t go farther than the couch, it was fine.

Footsteps could be heard making their way down the hallway the cats came from. Izuku was too busy petting Blizzard on the couch to register the noise. He did look up when a familiar voice spoke. “Hizashi. What is this?”

Izuku’s eyes started at the bottom. The man had on grey sweatpants and a white tank top. A hairless cat rested on his shoulders, black hair cascading over its back. Izuku froze when he got to the man’s face. Similar scruff, similar blood-shot eyes, similar dead expression.

Present Mic grinned and bounced over to Eraserhead, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I found something.”

Izuku’s brain short circuited. Not only was he in the presence of two Pro Heroes, not only was one of them Eraserhead, but the two were married ? Or at least dating. Izuku spared a quick glance at Present Mic’s hand. Nope, they were married.

“Let me explain,” Present Mic said, dragging Eraserhead down the hall by the hand. Their voices grew quiet.

Izuku stared at the empty hallway for a while, before deciding to rest on the couch. He wasn’t going passed the couch, so it was fine.  Immediately after he sat down, Blizzard jumped up and demanded pets.

Izuku smiled and stroked the kitten’s back. He-she? He didn’t know and wasn’t about to violate a cat. The kitten meowed and bumped its head against Izuku’s arm. While the animal continued its assault, Izuku couldn’t help but think about the current situation.

He really shouldn’t be here. It would have been fine if it was just Present Mic, but Eraserhead as well? If he was found out, he was screwed. He wasn’t even sure how long he’d be staying if they accepted. He could be thrown out in a few days or a few weeks.

He should just leave while he had the chance.

He picked up Blizzard and set it on the floor. Blizzard whined as Izuku stood up and made his way over to the front door. If he was quiet enough, they wouldn’t-

“What are you doing?”

Izuku spun around. His leg protested. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Eraserhead had his arms crossed. Present Mic was smiling, but when he saw Izuku at the door it turned into a frown.

“Sit down, Problem Child,” Eraserhead said. Izuku wanted to argue, but the stern look on the man’s face made him listen. He sat back on the couch. “How long did the doctor say?” He gestured to Izuku’s cast.

“Six weeks,” the boy answered.

“Then you’ll have six weeks to find a place.”

Izuku sat up straight, staring at the two heroes with wide eyes. “You don’t have to, really. I can just go to the homeless shelter.” Of course that was a lie. He’d rather die than go there.

“Nope!” Present Mic exclaimed. “You’re staying here.” He bounded forward and grabbed two of Izuku’s bags.

Izuku looked at Eraserhead, almost begging to let him go. The man shook his head and waved a hand towards the hallway that Present Mic walked down. The kid sighed and stood up, following after the voice hero.

The room he found him in was small. The bed was pushed up against the wall, right under the window. There was a small desk on the left side of the bed, but no chair.

Present Mic had placed his bags on the bed, and had just re-entered the room carrying hangers. “I’m not sure how many clothes you had,” he said, dumping the items onto the bed, “but hopefully this is enough.”

Izuku glanced at the hangers, and instantly saw that there were too many. He had only been able to take a few shirts and pants with him, most of the room in the bag had to go to his Kumo outfit.

As he hung up his clothes, one of the cats wandered into the room. Fluffy made themself comfortable on Izuku’s nearly empty bag. He found it pretty ironic how the hairless cat was named Fluffy, but he guessed that was the point.

Izuku eyed his other bags. He’d leave the one filled with food alone. He figured if they did end up changing their minds, he’d just grab his bags and go.

His stomach rumbled. Izuku hung up the last shirt and figured he’d take everything else out later. As best he could, he balanced Fluffy in one arm while the other held onto his crutch. He exited the bedroom and entered the hallway.

When he entered the living room, Present Mic was nowhere to be seen. Eraserhead was laying on his back on the couch, eyes closed with Blizzard and Truffles crowding around him. Blizzard plopped down on Eraserhead’s face, earning a grunt from the man. Truffles just decided to lay on his stomach.

He must have heard Izuku’s crutch as he approached, because one eye popped open. Izuku set Fluffy down on the arm of the couch.

“I, uh,” Izuku stammered, “I was wondering if I could grab something from the kitchen. I haven’t eaten yet.”

Eraserhead closed his eye and threw an arm over the back of the couch, waving his hand. “Kitchen’s over there.”

As he turned to head to the kitchen, Present Mic walked down the flight of stairs Izuku somehow completely missed. He was in his hero costume. “Shouta,” he said, walking over to his husband. He gently nudged the bottom of the couch, causing all the cats to scatter. “Be nice to our guest.” He looked at Izuku. “You don’t have to ask to use the kitchen.”

Izuku waddled into the kitchen and began searching through the cabinets and fridge. If he was going to live there for nearly two months, he should probably know where everything is.

He looked through the fridge. He pulled out a clear container filled with what appeared to be left over rice. He hoped nobody was planning on using it, because he was in the mood for fried rice.

He let the fridge close behind him as he set the container down and searched for a pan. Present Mic walked into the kitchen as Izuku turned the stove on. The man snatched an apple from the fridge.

“We’ll have to go over your schooling when I get back,” he said, pausing to watch Izuku move around the kitchen.

Izuku poked his head out of the fridge. “That’s okay, Present Mic,” he said, “I do online school.”

Present Mic nodded. “Call me Yamada when I’m not in costume. Same goes for Shouta- er, Aizawa. Anyway, I’ll see you both after patrol, Little Listener.” Present- Yamada ruffled Izuku’s hair and left the kitchen.

Izuku went back to making his fried rice. He quickly chopped up vegetables, occasionally stirring the rice in the pan so it didn’t stick or burn. He had decided to use up all of the leftover rice as there wasn’t much left. Maybe enough for seconds if it were stretched.

When the rice was done, he turned off the stove and made his way over to where the plates were kept. Much to his dismay, the plates were a bit too high up for him. He sighed and attempted to reach it. The tips of his fingers brushed against it.

He was straining his right foot. He nearly grabbed it when another hand beat him to it. Eras- Aizawa set the plate in front of Izuku and moved around him to get to the coffee maker. He refilled his mug as Izuku piled on some of the rice onto his plate.

Izuku glanced at Aizawa from the corner of his eye. The man lifted a brow as he sipped his coffee. “You can have some if you want,” Izuku mumbled, gesturing to the food and feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Izuku shuffled out of the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table after grabbing a spoon. He would much rather retreat to his new room, but he wasn’t sure if that was allowed. And Aizawa looked dead on his feet even after his coffee, and Izuku knew how irritable one could get without sleep.

The two ate in an uncomfortable silence; Izuku at the table, and Aizawa opting to stay in the kitchen. Aizawa leaned against the counter as he spooned bites into his mouth. Izuku avoided all eye contact with the man.

He knew it was ridiculous that Aizawa would put Izuku and Kumo together. He never said anything about himself, not his name, not his home life, not even his age. Aizawa probably figured some things out, but never said what.

Aizawa was the first one to finish. He set his dishes in the sink and walked out of the kitchen. He paused, glancing down at Izuku. “Not bad, kid,” he said before walking up the stairs.

If Izuku had a small smile on his face the rest of the day, well. That was nobody’s business.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke up to his phone’s alarm. It was quiet enough that it wouldn’t wake the other residents, but loud enough that Izuku wouldn’t sleep through it. Not like that would be a problem, his online teachers posted video lessons rather than live sessions so it wasn’t like he’d miss anything.

But he did want to get into a schedule, at least until his leg was healed and it would be kicked to the curb.

He smacked his hand around on the desk, searching for his phone. Only when he successfully turned it off did he roll onto his back and sit up. He scratched his head, attempting to tame the wild beast he called hair. It just stood back up.

He opted out of changing out of his sleepwear and instead headed towards the bathroom. Luckily for him and his bladder, the bathroom was just down the hall. He quickly did his business and set about brushing his teeth.

He looked up at the ceiling. Yamada’s whistling was nearly as loud as his voice. Izuku wondered if it had woken Aizawa up. But then he figured that living with a real-life megaphone trained you to sleep through anything.

Soon enough, Yamada’s footsteps paraded down the stairs. Izuku hurried to finish his bathroom routine. He spotted shampoo in the shower, and figured he would take one after the two left.

He had only been there for three days, yet it was easy to slip into routine. Yamada would wake up first at six in the morning, followed by Izuku who was usually woken up by the loud hero’s whistling. He would then get back to sleep and wake up at 7:25. Signs that Yamada was even there were in the sink, and Izuku would make his own breakfast. Then Aizawa would grace Izuku with his presence, taking one of the many jelly packets from the fridge. And once he slurped up his “meal”, Aizawa would depart for U.A.

Izuku made it to the kitchen right as Yamada started breakfast. He paused at the table, looking around the room. He didn’t know why, but something about this scene felt off.

One glance at the stove clock gave him the answer. It was 7:30.

Yamada shot a glance over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “Hey, Little Listener,” he said as he cracked two eggs into a pan on the stove. His hair was still down, but he wore his hero outfit.

Izuku returned the greeting and sat down at the table, leaning his crutches against the wall. “Aren’t you usually at the radio station?”

Yamada nodded, flipping the eggs. “It’s Wednesday, though,” he explained. “My show isn’t on until 7:30 in the evening.”

Izuku nodded, watching as the man continued making breakfast. He would’ve helped out with it, but his first day there he had been told not to worry about it. Izuku still insisted on doing the dishes, though. Luckily for him, Yamada and Aizawa couldn’t really stop him; Yamada was usually gone by the time he woke up, and Aizawa waited until the last possible minute to wake up and leave.

Izuku wondered if the tired man would appreciate breakfast in bed. Those jelly pouches couldn’t be holding him off until lunch. Izuku could make a western-style breakfast. He had a weak spot for Beglian waffles. Although he’d have to wait until he could go up a flight of stairs with both hands.

A bowl was placed in front of him, pulling Izuku out of his thoughts. It was a rice bowl with two over-easy eggs on top. Izuku thanked the man and picked up his chopsticks, eager to dive into the meal.

The two froze as a thud came from above. Izuku lowered his chopsticks, egg hanging from between them, and looked at the ceiling.

“Ah,” Yamada said, a small smile on his face, “Shouta’s awake. Must’ve rolled off the bed.”

Izuku couldn’t blame him. He had woken up around 4:30 due to the front door opening. He listened as Aizawa shuffled around the house, heading upstairs. No wonder he napped as soon as he got home. A five hour patrol would knock anyone out.

As Izuku ate his food, Aizawa trudged down the stairs. He tried not to laugh at the man’s appearance, but a snort had escaped. Aizawa sent a withering glare, but there appeared to be no actual malice behind it.

Aizawa’s hair was worse than Izuku’s was in the mornings. Shorter strands stuck out everywhere, the back was tangled. Blizzard was on his shoulder trying to bat at the strands that stuck out.

“Shouta!” Yamada called out. “It’s Wednesday, you know what that means?”

Aizawa stumbled over to the coffee maker, pulling out the pot that was already made. “You get to give me dry eye in the car?”

Yamada laughed. “You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Yamada pressed a hand against his chest, scoffing. “My own husband,” he sighed dramatically. He handed Aizawa a rice bowl. Aizawa mumbled a thank you and took his food and coffee to the table.

Please that his husband was actually eating something instead of chugging his jelly pouches, Yamada smiled and headed upstairs, going to finish getting ready for the day.

                                                                         _____________

The adults had long left by the time Izuku started his classes. He had set himself up on the couch; laptop on the small table next to it with lessons pulled up, a stack of notebooks of various subjects next to the laptop, and spare pencils. He had his history notebook on his lap and open to a clear page.

He made sure he had a drink and a snack with him. He wasn’t planning on moving from his spot unless he had to. When he got into the zone, he hated being interrupted, and a dry mouth or rumbling stomach would do just that. He usually took breaks after every two classes he finished, which meant three breaks excluding lunch.

His computer pinged, letting him know that one of his teachers posted their lesson. He leaned over and scrolled down, looking for the video. It was his math teacher. He sighed and clicked the video, getting resituated as the video loaded. He didn’t hate math, but he wasn’t the biggest fan since it was usually his first subject of the day. But it got it out of his way, so he couldn’t really complain.

Halfway through the lesson, Izuku jumped as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He sighed, realizing he forgot to put it on do not disturb mode. He knew only one person was texting him as he had notifications turned off for Instagram since he did most of his commissions at his desk.

He glanced down at the message, debating whether or not he should answer. If Hatsume was messaging him, that meant she had a break. If he didn’t take advantage of that, he had no idea when she’d be free next.

He paused the math video and read the message.

Hatsume: you probs won’t see this until later tonight but just thought I’d tell you the babies are coming along great! The mask is almost ready, should be ready by Saturday

Izuku grinned and fist pumped the air. If the mask was like he wanted, then he wouldn’t have to waste his webbing holding it to his head! He wasn’t sure how she had planned to pull it off, but she needed his finger prints. He wasn’t too happy about that, if something went wrong, police could probably figure out his identity.

He didn’t need that in his life.

Izuku: Thanks, Mei! I won’t be able to get it by then, but maybe 6 weeks? I’m a bit of a jam atm but don’t worry

The reply was almost instant.

Hatsume: oh??? Should I be worried? I could always drop it off at your place

Izuku: It’s just a broken leg. And I’m not at my place anymore, so you’d just run into a random person. Can’t tell you where I am, sorry

Hatsume: :/ oh well. Gotta get back to my babies! Your gloves are taking a long time

Izuku sighed and let his phone fall from his hand. He nearly forgot about his gloves. He didn’t really know what he wanted to do with them, except find a way to have his shooters attached so he didn’t risk them flying off. That happened too many times when he was first starting out.

Right now they looked like your average wristbands with a trigger that extended towards the palm of his hands. It worked fine, but Izuku wanted as few pieces to his costume as possible. He wanted to limit the amount of things he could potentially leave his DNA on. And constantly searching for the shooters was a hassle. If they were just attached to the gloves, they’d be easier to spot.

He tapped his pencil against the edge of his notebook. He could dwell on the specifics of his costume later; it wasn’t like he’d be using it anytime soon.

                                                           __________________

It’s been a few weeks since he broke his leg, and Izuku was finally feeling comfortable in a house with two Pro Heroes. It helped that they weren’t even in the house most of the time, what with their patrol hours and other jobs.

That didn’t stop the three of them from bonding. Somewhat.

Yamada was a chatterbox, to put it simply. When he and AIzawa got home, Yamada would change out of his hero suit and join Izuku on the couch. Izuku was usually finishing up an assignment, and Yamada would turn on the TV and start talking about his day.

Izuku didn’t really participate, as he did the same thing nearly every day so there was never anything interesting.

Which is where they were now. Yamada was on the couch as the news played in the background. Izuku was leaning against the arm of the couch. He had his commission notebook in hand and a video was pulled up on his phone. He would prefer to sit normally, but Yamada had leaned over to see what the kid was doing and Izuku scooted away. He’d rather his clients’ Quirks stayed secret, thank you very much.

Izuku also had his earbuds plugged in, so Yamada didn’t accidentally overhear anything.

As he scribbled away at his analysis, Aizawa walked into the room. Izuku looked up in alarm. Normally the man was in the middle of his after-school/work nap and wouldn’t be up for another few hours.

Aizawa stopped at the side of the couch Yamada was sitting at. He had a serious expression on his face. Most people wouldn’t be able to see the difference between his expressions, but Izuku picked up on a few after being around the man for so long.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Izuku turned off his phone and closed his notebook. He decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Hopefully that would give them enough time to talk about whatever it was, or at least move rooms.

He filled a cup and took a few greedy gulps. He refilled it and put ice cubes in it. He left the kitchen, making sure to walk slow enough to give them more time. He could just wait until they were done, but he had been stupid and left his notebook. It wasn’t a huge concern. If they saw anything, they’d just ask what he was doing and he’d tell the truth. It wasn’t like it was illegal.

Izuku stopped before he reached the living room. Aizawa’s voice reached his ears.

“-the Kumo case,” the underground hero said.

Izuku tensed.

“What about it?” Yamada asked, sounding concerned.

“Kumo hasn’t been spotted for weeks,” Aizawa explained.

Izuku felt the color drain from his face. Oh god, what if they found out? What if one of them had been vacuuming his room and found something? Had he been stupid and left his shooters on his bed while sending pictures of them to Mei?

“You haven’t seen him on patrols?”

“I’m not actively looking for him all the time.” Aizawa sounded exasperated. Izuku couldn’t blame him. He knew how badly a missed nap could affect you. “If I see him, I pursue. But the police are the ones doing the actual investigation.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound worried,” Yamada teased.

Aizawa made a noise sounding close to a scoff. “Worried? About some child playing hero?”

“Wait, Kumo’s a kid?” Yamada was alarmed. Izuku inhaled sharply.

“Short like one. But the voice doesn’t match.”

Izuku turned and hightailed it to his room. His crutch kept catching on the walls and kitchen table. He had to make sure his things were hidden. He didn’t want to get caught. He couldn’t. There was no way they could find out. He’d have nowhere left to go, he wouldn’t have time to even bring anything with him. They’d call the police, or bring him themselves. He’d just have to grab his suit and leave. The drop from his window wasn’t bad.

But he didn’t want that. He didn’t.

He didn’t want to leave.

Chapter Text

He should leave.

He knew he should. It was getting too dangerous. If either of them connected his injury to the time of Kumo’s disappearance, there was no doubt that they’d want him in jail.

He should just pack up his things and leave in the middle of the night, while Aizawa was on his patrol. Yamada would be passed out upstairs. It’d be easy.

But every time he pulled out his bags, he stopped. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Aizawa and Yamada took him in, even when they didn’t need to. He had to pay them back somehow. Maybe he’d make them dinner. He couldn’t really move around easier until his cast was off, so it’d have to wait.

Yeah. That was  it. He totally wasn’t in denial. Totally not. Denial? Never heard of her.

He was getting his cast off in two weeks. He could wait that long. Until then, he could sweeten them up and see if he could stay an extra night or two. They both had pretty busy schedules, whereas Izuku was stuck inside all day. Maybe he could clean the place while they were gone. He usually finished his school work by two and gave himself an hour long break before finishing up any assignments.

Yamada always told him to leave the dishes, that he’d do them after they got back from work. But despite his excitable personality, Izuku saw how drained Yamada was after interacting with teenagers all day. He could use a break.

That was where Izuku found himself; standing in the kitchen as he loaded the dishwasher. He was in the middle of placing a bunch of cups inside when Aizawa trudged into view, head moving back and forth. He stopped when his tired eyes found Izuku.

“How’s the house hunting going?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen island as he observed Izuku.

Izuku swallowed, not expecting the question. It was bound to come up sooner or later, but he had no answer. “As good as it can,” he lied, turning his face away from Aizawa. The man was no lie detector, but he could read body language pretty well. “Not a lot of places are willing to take in a parentless child.”

He braved a glance at the underground hero. He typed on his phone before sliding the device into his pocket. “Recovery Girl gets back from her vacation in a few days.” Wow great change in subject. “If you want we can swing by U.A. and have her finish healing your leg. I’m sure you have places to be.”

“Totally!” Izuku faked an enthusiastic grin. “That’d be great. Thank you, Aizawa-san.”

Aizawa didn’t move from his spot. Instead, it seemed like his tired glare was reading the kid, trying to get a sense of what he was really thinking. Izuku swallowed, being the first to remove their gaze from the other. He went back to loading the dishes.

He let out a breath of relief when he heard the man turn and walk away. All the tension set in his shoulders dropped, and he felt himself relax. It wasn’t like the man was intimidating. Actually, intimidating didn’t even begin to cover it. It was like he was constantly observing every possible detail, constantly reading those around him. Izuku supposed it came with the job.

It had taken him nearly two weeks to feel comfortable enough around Aizawa to sit on the couch during his free time instead of hiding in his room. It took him even longer to be able to get enough courage to sit on the couch while Aizawa was also sitting on it, let alone sleeping on it.

It didn’t help that Izuku never knew what the man was feeling. Sure, he could tell when something was serious and he had to leave the room. He knew how tired he was after work based on how sluggish his body moved. But that man never had any emotions on his face. Izuku wasn’t even sure how Aizawa felt about him staying with them.

Did he find him annoying? A burden? Did he not really care? Did he suspect him? Izuku really hoped it wasn’t that last one. The only thing going for him was the timing of his injury and his age. Aizawa wasn’t even sure of the second thing.

But one thing Izuku was sure of was that he had to leave.

                                                               ________________

U.A. was bigger than Izuku thought. He had only ever seen it in passing. But here he was, walking up to the gate. Aizawa had called Recovery Girl and the principal earlier that day so there would be no issues with the security system sensing an unknown figure.

Aizawa and Izuku walked side by side into the large school. Izuku trailed slightly behind the man, wanting to take in as many details as he could. The chances of him getting into U.A. were slim, nor did he particularly want to. It was a fine school and all, but Izuku was content with staying online.

Aizawa led him up a flight of stairs, pausing every so often to let Izuku catch up. Izuku briefly wondered why there weren’t any elevators. Soon the two arrived at a large door. They must have the doors that big to accommodate Quirks.

Aizawa knocked before sliding the door open. Izuku peered around the man, trying to get a look at the room.

“Have a seat,” a voice said. Aizawa stepped aside and let Izuku enter the room. Aizawa took a seat on an empty chair while Izuku wandered further into the room. A short woman stepped out from behind a curtain. “You must be Midoriya.”

Izuku startled. “R-Recovery Girl!” He knew he was going to meet her, but it was still a surprise. “It’s an honor to meet you!” He tried to bow as best he could without his crutches slipping out from under him.

“No need for that,” she said, walking over to an empty bed. She tapped on it. “Have a seat.”

Izuku gladly jumped onto the bed. He looked around the room while Recovery Girl gathered her tools. Aizawa appeared to be sleeping, but he shifted too much for that to be true. Recovery Girl walked over to Izuku.

“I’m just going to remove the cast with this small electric saw,” she explained, holding up said tool. “It shouldn’t hurt, but since it’s not fully healed I’m not entirely sure.”

“Why not just take off the cast after you heal it?” Izuku asked.

“It could still heal wrong due to the casting.” She gently propped up Izuku’s leg on a chair she pulled over. She fiddled with the pant leg, making sure it was out of the way. Aizawa had told Izuku to wear shorts for convenience, but Izuku didn’t have any so he just had to bunch up the fabric at the top and hoped he didn’t look ridiculous. From the mostly concealed snort Aizawa let out when he met him at the door, Izuku hadn’t succeeded.

Recovery Girl flicked on the tool, pressing the spinning blade against the top of the cast. The friction it created didn’t hurt, but it did feel weird. Izuku fought the urge to kick his leg out.

About five minutes later, Izuku’s leg was free from its confinement. The sight was gross; it was incredibly pale, it itched, the hair appeared matted. There was a faint smell. Izuku shuddered. He was taking a long shower after this.

Recovery Girl, unbothered by the appearance, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the limb. Izuku watched, eyes wide and mouth open, as the limb went back to its original state. The fascinating moment passed, and a wave of exhaustion hit him.

His eyes drooped and his arms holding him up in the bed wanted to give out. Recovery Girl chuckled and held something in her palm.

“It’s an energy gummy,” she explained. Izuku reached out and took it. He squished it a few times before popping it into his mouth. “It will restore your energy for the time being, but you will need to rest.”

“Thank you m’am,” Izuku said after swallowing the gummy. He could already feel his body waking up. He pushed himself off the bed and tested his leg. It wobbled a bit, but that was to be expected after nearly two months without using it.

Izuku opened his mouth to start speaking again, but promptly shut it. He patted his front and back pockets, trying to figure out where he put it. “Where did I-?”

Aizawa shifted in his seat again and sighed before standing up. He walked over to Izuku and pulled a small notebook out from his pocket. Izuku grinned and took the item from him.

“Uh,” Izuku started, suddenly feeling shy. He flipped over to a blank page, skipping through many other names. “Do you think I could have an autograph?” He held it out to the elderly woman.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, fishing through one of the many pockets in her jacket. She took out a pen and grabbed the notebook. “It always amazes me that there are still fans out there.” She finished the signature. “You have quite the collection if each page is one hero.”

Izuku watched as she looked through the signatures. She stopped at one, surprise taking over her face. Izuku leaned over to see which one it was.

It was Aizawa’s.

That had been an awkward one to get.

It had taken him a week to build up the courage to ask for Yamada’s. The man was more than glad to agree, to say the least. He made his signature take up an entire page, in both Japanese and English.

“You should try to get Shouta’s,” Yamada said, grinning. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to learn he has fans.”

They all knew that Aizawa would not be happy about it, but Izuku did it anyway. It was the following Wednesday. Yamada was making breakfast, Izuku was staring at a blank notebook page, Aizawa had yet to crawl out of bed.

The moment he did, Izuku blurted out, “Can I have your autograph?”

It took Aizawa a few moments to register what just happened. “No,” he replied, slinking into the kitchen for his cup of coffee.

“Please!” Izuku pleaded, following the man into the kitchen. Yamada had an amused expression on his face as he watched everything unfold.

“I’m an underground hero, you’re not supposed to know who I am,” Aizawa sighed, pouring the hot drink into his mug. “How did you even find that out?”

Izuku froze. He couldn’t exactly say, ‘You’ve been trying to track me down for over a year’.

“I suspected it for a while,” he settled on. “You leave the house in the same outfit every day and you leave 11 at night and come back at 4 in the morning. That sounds like a patrol to me.”

Aizawa blinked, clearly taken aback. “Ever heard of the night shift?” Wow, he was really trying to convince Izuku he wasn’t a hero.

“What are you even doing up that early?” Yamada asked, putting breakfast onto a plate. He handed one to each of them.

Izuku ignored the voice hero’s question. “You’re not as quiet as you think when you come back bleeding.”

Both Yamada and Aizawa blanched, staring at each other with wide eyes. Aizawa, obviously at the end of his rope, sighed. “Fine. Hand me a pen.”

Izuku smiled and leaped over to the table where he left his pen. Aizawa snatched both notebook and pen from his hands, scribbling away and muttering something about ‘problem children’.

“It seems like he needs to work on his penmanship,” Recovery Girl joked, handing the notebook back to Izuku. They both snickered at Aizawa’s glare.

“Are you ready to go, Midoriya?” the tired man asked.

Izuku nodded. “Thank you again, Recovery Girl,” he said, bowing. He turned and followed Aizawa towards the door.

“Anytime, dearie,” Recovery Girl answered.

                                                                    ___________

He was in deep shit. Aizawa had let him keep the two weeks he still had to look for a house, saying something about it not being logical to send a child out on their own without proper shelter.

He had those two weeks, yet every time he opened up websites that listed houses, Izuku found himself hesitating. The cursor hovered over each option, but Izuku never clicked.

He knew he had to get out of there. Every day was another chance for his secret to be revealed. Especially now that his leg was healed and he’d want to start patrols again. What would Aizawa think when Kumo just showed up near his house?

Izuku sighed, closing the tab once more.

“What’s with that heavy sigh, Listener?” Yamada asked, walking into the living room. He held two mugs of tea. He handed one to Izuku, who gladly took it. “House troubles?”

Izuku hummed and sipped his tea. “It won’t be ready for another few days,” he lied. “I’m still on bedrest from Recovery Girl, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

                                                              ______________

As the days went by, his excuses got worse.

This time it was dinner. He did want to make them something as a thank you, and what better way to do that than his mother’s famous katsudon? Okay yeah, it wasn’t famous. But it should be.

Izuku intentionally “forgot” to buy ingredients earlier in the day, so around six he was reminded by Yamada. Once at the store, he took his time choosing between thin pork or thick pork, seasoned bread crumbs or regular bread crumbs.

It was nearing seven when he got back. Yamada asked if he needed help, but Izuku insisted he had everything handled.

It was 7:30 when dinner was finally served. He made sure there were enough leftovers in case they wanted to make a bento.

It was 8:30 when Izuku finished eating and insisted he did the dishes. He did them by hand, claiming that it was better than the dishwasher.

It was nine when he was done. He took a look at the clock, exclaiming that it was late and he should head to bed. He didn’t miss the look the two adults shared between each other as he headed to his room.

                                                                         ______________

His next excuse was his leg was sore and that he should rest a little more. He could tell neither of the heroes bought it, but they didn’t say anything.

                                                                         ______________

It was the fourth day of Izuku’s ridiculous reasons to stay when they finally broke. Izuku had run out of excuses and was prepared to start packing.

“What’s today’s excuse?” Aizawa asked from his spot on the couch. He had his arm wrapped around Yamada’s shoulder, and the blond was snuggled into Aizawa’s chest. They were watching some pre-Quirk era movie.

Izuku stopped when he was close to the couch. He took a deep breath. It was time to come clean. “I don’t have a house.”

Both heroes stilled, eyes sliding over to each other. Yamada pulled away from Aizawa. “Did they end up giving it to someone else?” he asked.

Izuku shook his head. “I never had one.”

Aizawa sat up. “I thought you were looking for one.”

“I was,” Izuku explained, feeling his face heat up. He sniffed. “But I guess I got too comfortable and now it’s backfiring.” He wiped his eyes, not wanting the tears to start. It was too late. “And I’ve just been using you and taking advantage of your kindness and I-I’m sorry!”

And the waterworks have started. He was freely sobbing now, hands flying around his face in a desperate attempt to stop them.

Yamada crouched down in front of Izuku, pulling his arms down. “Midoriya,” he said in a hushed voice, “it’s okay.”

“No it’s not! I haven’t kept up my end of the deal which was to find a house.”

Yamada sighed. “I’ll talk to Sho and you just sit here and calm down, alright?”

Izuku sniffed and nodded. He was moved to the couch, and he took a seat. The two adults then walked into the hallway, their whispers traveling.

Izuku stayed on the couch, trying to control his breathing. He hated that part about crying. It was always so hard to not hyperventilate.

When he was breathing properly and it was just a few stray tears, he looked towards the hallway Aizawa and Yamada disappeared down. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to know if he should start packing right away.

He tiptoed over to the hallway. He pressed himself against the wall and listened.

“-know it’s too dangerous to have children around,” Aizawa argued. “If you really want to secure a place for him, then ask Nezu about making him a ward.”

“You’ve seen that kids’ grades, Sho,” Yamada said. “That rat is going to want to pick apart his brain! And what if he ends up placing Midoriya back with us? His reasoning will probably be like ‘oh you know him best so he should just stay with you’. It’s easier to just let him stay than fill out all that paperwork.”

Aizawa sighed, pausing. “What if he doesn’t even want to go to U.A.?”

“Then convince him. But I’m not throwing him onto the street again. His old neighborhood was terrible, Sho!”

Izuku heard footsteps approaching and quickly went back to the couch.

So.

It seemed like his only option was to go to U.A.

Great.

Chapter Text

He was just starting his route, sometime around nine at night. He was still in his old neighborhood, and since it was pretty quiet there was nobody out except those coming from work. He never expected anything bigger than drunks unless he traveled farther. And boy was he glad he didn’t that night.

He was walking along the edge of a roof, arms sticking out to keep his balance. It was an incredibly stupid thing to do, looking back. One wrong slip and he’d fall four stories.

Which was exactly what happened when an ear-piercing shriek rang out. Izuku scrambled to grab the fire escape ladder, slowing his fall. He dangled there, trying to comprehend what happened, when the same voice called out again.

A few moments later, and he was on the ground and running towards the sound. He passed by the trash dump known as Dagobah Beach. Who was hanging around there that late at night?

The source of the scream bumped into him. They both fell to the ground, landing uncomfortably on the concrete. Bags fell, their contents going everywhere.

“I-I’m so sorry!” Izuku apologized, getting to his knees and scooping the items back into their bags. He paused, looking at what he was holding. It was a bunch of broken wires and metal pieces.

The girl he ran into sat up, heading spinning around frantically. “Where is he?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Who?” Izuku asked, completely forgetting that he was a vigilante and not some random guy and he should be looking for the person who caused the screaming.

The girl stood up, wincing as her knees protested. In the dim light from the lamps nearby, Izuku could see red dripping down. “A guy,” she explained, moving her pink hair out of her face. “I was walking home with my stuff and bumped into his shoulder. I guess he thought I was trying to rob him or something and started yelling. I screamed when he grabbed my elbow.”

As if on cue, someone yelled out, “Damn brat! Where’d ya go?”

Izuku stood, holding his arm out towards the girl. “Stay here, I’ll deal with him.” He began walking in the direction of the older voice.

Sure enough, he found a man appearing in his mid-40’s stumbling around like he was looking for something.

“Can I help you, sir?” Izuku asked, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t difficult, given how short he was.

“Y’see a girl wi’ pink hair ‘round here?” the man asked, slurred. Izuku reeled back. He’d cover his nose if it wasn’t already. The man reeked of alcohol. No wonder he got confused.

“What’d the girl do, sir?”

“Stole from me,” the man groaned, “then lied ‘bout it. Damn brats tryna rob defenseless people.”

“Sir,” Izuku said, putting his hands up in a calming gesture, “I think you need to go home and rest. You seem pretty intoxicated. Sleep should clear up any misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?” the man bellowed, taking a step forward. “What’s a misunderstanding is I was robbed and you’re too stupid to tell me where the damn girl went!”

The drunk was obviously starting to get violent, if the abrupt hand gestures were anything to go by. Izuku couldn’t knock him out and leave him for the police. The man hadn’t harmed him, and purposefully provoking him wasn’t morally right.

So, Izuku sighed and pointed in the opposite direction of the beach. “She went that way.”

The man spun around, grumbling about useless teenagers and walking away.

Izuku reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to call the police about a drunkard wandering around Dagobah Beach. He hightailed it back to the girl and saw that she had just finished putting away her stuff. She didn’t seem too shaken by what happened, and Izuku supposed that was a good thing.

“You’re Kumo, right?” she asked.

Izuku froze. “I’m who?”

“Kumo,” she repeated, eyes glowing with excitement, “the vigilante.”

Well. He had a name. That was new.

“I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Why-”

He stumbled back as the girl all but pounced on him. She patted down his arms, his legs, his back. He tried to get away, but her grip was relentless. “We could partner up,” she said, pulling a measuring tape out of absolutely nowhere and wrapping it around his bicep. “You could help test out my babies and get some support items.”

“B-babies?!”

“My inventions! That’s why I was at the beach so late. Free stuff ripe for the taking.” She kept poking and prodding him. “We’ll make the best team!”

“We?”

The girl stopped and pulled away, grinning. “Hatsume Mei, at your service!”

And that was how Izuku found himself standing in front of a warehouse, listening to one of the many explosions inside. Well, the first time. Right now the warehouse was silent, and Izuku wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side. On one hand, nothing was blowing up.

On the other, Mei was never quiet.

Fearing for his life, Izuku raised a closed fist and knocked. Normally he’d just walk right in and dodge whatever piece of technology Mei was frustrated with. But one of three things were happening in there when it was silent; Mei was sleeping, Mei was angry a baby wasn’t working, or she was dead.

None of those things were good.

And there was no answer.

Izuku contemplated texting either Aizawa or Yamada that he was about to die and to set up his funeral. Bury him with his All Might plushie and signature book. Let them discover his vigilante tendencies. Mei would just have to live with the guilt.

“Izuku?”

Or maybe not. Maybe there was a fourth option he hadn’t even considered. Mei wasn’t even inside the warehouse.

He looked over his shoulder and found the girl standing a few feet away. She was in her typical support suit; tanktop, baggy pants, huge goggles planted on her head. She also had a cup of what appeared to be coffee with her.

He couldn’t fathom as to why, seeing how it was already noon.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be here,” she said, stepping closer. Izuku moved to the side to allow her to unlock the door. “I thought you’d still be out for another week.”

Izuku chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wrapped it up faster than I thought.”

Mei hummed and pushed open both doors. They slammed against the wall, echoing through the building. She flicked a nearby switch, and one-by-one the lights above turned on. The warehouse looked mostly the same since the last time he was over. The only difference being the pile of unsuccessful attempts was larger.

“Why weren’t you in the lab like usual?” Izuku asked, taking his usual seat at Mei’s testing area. He let his gaze wander around the building, letting himself get familiar with everything again.

Instead of sticking by the testing site, Mei wandered over to one of the many building tables scattered around. Each table was for a different kind of support item, but Izuku could not for the life of him remember each one. He was pretty sure there was one for each body part.

“Folks got too many noise complaints and thought I was gonna blow it up again,” she explained, grabbing her laptop and something else from a table. “Took the key for a few days.” She set the items down and plugged the laptop into what could only be considered the world’s longest extension cord. It was just extension cord plugged into extension cord all around the walls.

How they never had a fire break out, Izuku had no idea and at this point was too afraid to ask.

“But,” she continued, typing away on her now charging computer, “we had a long chat about how the things I was throwing weren’t flammable or prone to exploding. So now I have the key!”

Izuku nodded.

Mei’s parents were huge in the support industry. They were almost always on call for something, meaning as long as Mei didn’t blow up her warehouse they weren’t really around to question her recent inventions. Which worked out perfectly for Izuku and his nightly activities.

He’s met them over a few occasions. They were nice folks, although Izuku could see where Mei got her ramblings from. Not like Izuku was one to talk, considering how often he mumbles.

“Your text was really cryptic, I hope you know.”

Izuku looked up from the game he was playing on his phone. “Huh?”

Mei gave him a look of disbelief. “Really? Mr. I’m-no-longer-living-in-my-apartment and I-can’t-say-where?”

Izuku sighed, ducking his head. “I really can’t say where,” he mumbled. “It’d put people in danger.”

“You in danger, or them?”

Izuku thought for a moment. “Both?”

Mei crossed her arms. “What kind of people are you living with?”

“If word got out my civilian persona was with them, I’d be in trouble. If word got out my vigilante persona was with them, we’d all be in trouble.”

“You’re not staying with heroes, are you?”

Izuku looked anywhere but Mei. He felt the blush rising up his cheeks.

“Izuku!” Mei exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

“It wasn’t like I wanted to!” he defended.

Mei scoffed. “Uh, yeah. You could have walked out any time you wanted.”

“Can’t get very far with a broken leg,” Izuku muttered.

Mei blinked. “Okay. We don’t have time to unpack all of that. Anyway, you came here for a reason, right?”

When Izuku nodded, the pink-haired girl bounced on her feet. She grabbed the item next to the laptop and held it out to him. He took it and flipped it over. He gasped. It was his new mask.

It appeared to be made of black plastic, but knowing Mei that’s all it was. Appearance. It was actually made out of a strong, yet light metal. There were thin, white lines spreading out from the middle, paying homage to his spider persona.

He turned it back over. The inside was nothing special. The straps, however, were interesting. As Izuku went to put it on, Mei explained how each individual strap were for each finger. He would place his finger pads on them and they would be scanned. That way only he could take it off if brought into police custody. Unless they just cut the straps, but that was a problem for later.

“So that’s why you wanted my fingerprints,” Izuku murmured as Mei continued explaining everything.

Once scanned, a thin, metal pipe would insert into each strap, effectively holding it in place. It would take some getting used to, but it wasn’t overly uncomfortable.

“I also took the liberty of installing a voice modifier,” Mei said. “You tap the small screen on the left side near where the mouth should be. It’s not good, but it works. You’ll just sound like a kid who pitched his voice down in a video editing app.”

Izuku tapped the screen. “How do I sound?” His eyes widened. “Whoa, that’s trippy.” He tapped it again, turning it off.

“So,” Mei continued, clasping her hands in front of her, “any other business ideas before we begin testing?”

Izuku pressed a finger to his chin. “Do you think it’s possible to make an untraceable phone?”

                                                                      ______________

Oh man, did it feel good to be in costume again. It was nearing midnight, and Izuku just stood in the center of his room decked out in his gear. Yamada had gone to bed long ago and Aizawa was already an hour into his patrol. Izuku had no reason to fear discovery at the moment.

He was sure he spent a good five minutes just enjoying the feeling of everything; the mask on his face, the gloves on his hands, even his new boots he bought after visiting Mei. The only things that stayed the same were the clothes and gloves, although Mei had produced some ideas should he want an upgrade.

Speaking of upgrades.

Izuku swiped the newest piece of technology off his bed, pulling off a glove to tap on it. Mei had come up with an untraceable phone like he wanted. It gave her a headache to deal with and Izuku had promised he was done with requests (until she offered the glove ideas).

Izuku had the brilliant yet terrifying idea of making an Instagram account for his vigilante persona. That was why the phone had to be untraceable. He knew the moment he posted anything with him in it, the police would be breaking down the front door faster than Izuku could start crying. And that was saying something.

He had set up the account last night but refrained from posting anything. He just wasn’t sure what would make people believe it was really him. It didn’t matter in the end, he supposed. He knew it was him and that was all he needed. It’d work out better for him, anyway, if people assumed he was just some random cosplayer.

But after lunch, the idea for his first post struck him. He needed to be up high enough so lurkers didn’t see him, but enough light that he could be seen on camera.

Izuku pocketed the device and walked over to the window. He slid it open and carefully exited the bedroom. He made sure to leave it cracked open a little bit so he could get back inside.

The fresh air made him smile. Sneaking out had never felt so good. Mainly because he never needed to. With his mom, he had no reason to seeing as he had no friends. And then after that he was on his own.

Was this what teenage rebellion felt like? Is this what all those movies talked about? Sneaking out late a night, visiting friends and dates, going to parties. Maybe he should get alcohol and make it even more fun.

He doubted a liquor store was open at this time of night, though. And he had the stature of a 12-year-old so he’d be turned away.

He began his patrol on the ground. He wanted to be a bit farther away from the house before he started scaling walls. 

He was a good few blocks away when he headed into an empty alleyway. He hopped up onto a closed dumpster. He could just shoot a web and climb it, but he didn’t want to waste any too early in the night. So he found whatever perch he could to lift himself up the wall.

He stretched once he wasn’t too close to the ledge. He peered down at the empty streets. God, he missed that sight. Seeing how everything looked so small up high. He grinned under his mask.

He traveled across a few roofs before he found the perfect spot for his video. There were two street lamps to provide optimal lighting, and it was just high enough that people wouldn’t see unless they looked up. Not like there were many people out, anyway.

Izuku dragged over an empty cardboard box that had been left up there for some reason and leaned his new phone against it. The screen was facing him. He pressed record. He’d trim it later.

He then ran across to the next roof over. He wanted to flip over to the camera and wave. A picture could have people thinking it wasn’t him, but a video with flips on a rooftop would be harder to disprove.

He took in a deep breath. The gap between the two buildings wasn’t large, but he’d never flipped above one. One wrong move and he would fall. Again. It was always alleys for some reason.

He shook his hands, hyping himself up. Before he could back out, he forced his legs to move. He bolted across. He jumped onto the ledge and up into the air. He flipped once, and landed on the other side.

The landing would have been great if his ankle hadn’t decided to roll. He collapsed.

“Shit!” he yelled, hands going to the injured area. It was his healed leg as well. Man, sitting on your ass for nearly six weeks really got you out of shape. Who knew. “God damn it! Stupid bones.”

He got his feet under him and pushed up so he stood. His ankle throbbed. He limped over to his phone and scooped it up. “Little lesson to everyone,” he said, still shocked at how his voice sounded. “Don’t attempt flips without supervision.”

He turned off the device and slid it into his pocket. He’d post it later.

He’d have to continue his patrol on the ground. He grumbled under his breath about how the human body was stupid. He prepared to shoot a web onto the building so he could safely get down when something familiar wrapped around his wrist.

Izuku couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He spun around. “Eraserhead!”

Said man was on the other side of the roof. His hair floated around him, along with the remaining scarf. “Kumo,” he said, walking closer. “Where have you been?"

Izuku untied his wrist and flexed it. “Around. Why? Worried?”

The man gave him an exasperated look. “The police have been worried.”

“Aren’t you helping the police?”

“Kid,” Eraserhead sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where have you been? The police started thinking you’re dead.”

Izuku hummed and walked around the hero. He watched as his hair cascaded back around his shoulders. “Injuries do that to you. Oh hey! Think I can stick with you tonight? My ankle hurts and I’d rather not get caught in another alley.”

Izuku couldn’t even find a word to describe how done with everything Eraserhead looked. The man looked like he wanted nothing more than to leap off the roof and go home.

Which.

Okay, that was a big mood.

“Do I dare ask?” Eraserhead asked.

Izuku shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”

There was a moment of silence before the underground hero sighed for the 1ooth time and said, “Fine.”

Izuku cheered and bounded towards the hero. Eraserhead just turned away and ran to the next roof. The landing hurt Izuku’s ankle, but as long as he didn’t do anymore flips he figured he should be alright.

The journey across town was silent. Normally Eraserhead would be attempting to get information out of him, like he had done the few times they’d run into each other in the past. But it seemed like the man was still coming to terms with the fact that Kumo was actually near him and willingly following him. Or maybe he was just surprised he wasn’t dead.

Both. Both were good.

It didn’t take long for them to stumble upon criminals. In fact, the criminals were being complete idiots, and coming from Izuku that was saying something.

They were attempting to pick the lock of a store. They had masks on to cover their faces, and a bunch of bags lay at their feet. It seemed like the ring leader--or who Izuku assumed was the ring leader--was picking the lock while the other two kept watch. And if they were good at their job, they’d be looking up as well.

This must be one of their first hits.

Eraserhead yanked Izuku down onto the roof. Izuku squawked and nearly missed smacking his head on the ledge. Eraserhead peered over the edge; Izuku copied. If they were a little bit closer, they’d be able to hear what was being said.

Something moving in the shadows drew Izuku’s attention. It appeared there was a fourth figure with them. Either a hostage or a part of the team. It seemed Eraserhead hadn’t noticed it, and Izuku wasn’t about to speak lest one of their Quirks have something to do with hearing.

Izuku met Eraserhead’s gaze, and the older man pointed at himself and held up three fingers, using his other hand to grab the middle and right ones. Eraserhead would take on the lock picker and the one on the right.

Izuku nodded in understanding, preparing to move over to the alley and lower himself down. Eraserhead went to the other side.

They made sure to stay in the shadows as they got closer to the group. And then Izuku made the most idioic mistake of tripping over a can that seemed to have fallen out of a dumpster. Luckily it only drew the attention of one of the criminals.

Oh how Izuku wished Eraserhead had given him permission to fight. Jumping around and dodging and waiting to be hit would definitely create problems if that extra figure was with them. He’d have to get it soon.

The criminal alerted the other two. Eraserhead then shot his capture weapon so it wrapped around the lamppost and swung himself towards one of them. His feet hit them right in the chest, sending them flying. They skidded across the concrete.

Izuku nearly didn’t see the knife coming his way; he had been distracted by finally seeing Eraserhead in action. Izuku ducked under the criminal’s arm.

“Eraserhead!” Izuku yelled, continuing to back away from the attacker.

“What are you doing, kid?” Eraserhead yelled back, hair floating around him as he threw a punch at one of the criminal’s face.

“I need your permission to attack!”

“What?”

“You think I go into this blind? I know the laws and I either wait until I get hurt or you give permission!”

He heard the man swear. “Alright, you have my permission. You’re gonna give me grey hairs, I swear.”

Izuku bit back the, Yamada does that for me, comment that itched on his tongue. Instead, he grinned under his mask and grabbed his attacker’s arm, twisting it in a way that made them drop the knife. They cried out. Izuku noticed their voice was deep, but who was he to assume?

The criminal swung their free arm, clumsily hitting Izuku’s wrist. Izuku gasped as his web shooter opened up. He couldn’t do anything but watch as the vial containing the web fluid flew out of his wrist band. It clanged onto the street and shattered.

“You dick!” the vigilante shouted, aiming a kick at the criminal’s stomach. They dropped to the ground. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to make that stuff? It takes hours and it’s expensive.”

With the criminal pinned on the ground, Izuku aimed his other wrist at each limb. He pressed the trigger and soon each hand and foot were stuck to the ground. It should last until the police got there, but Izuku knew from experience that someone strong enough could break through it.

Izuku sighed and stepped away. He fished into his pockets and was about to pull out a spare vial when the figure from the shadows stepped out.

“Hey guys,” she said, not looking up from the device she held in her hand, “I disarmed the alarms.”

To say she was surprised when she finally noticed the scene was an understatement. Her eyes darted around to her colleagues, then to Eraserhead, and finally to Izuku. She stuttered.

Izuku spared a glance at Eraserhead. One of the criminals was tied to the lamppost. The man was fine, Izuku didn’t need to step in. Unless a gun was drawn.

Izuku turned his attention back to the woman, who was still processing the situation. Well, at least this would be easy. He aimed his shooter at her feet and pressed down. She gasped and tried to move, but it just stretched with her.

She sighed, seemingly accepting defeat. Izuku frowned. It was never that easy. He stepped forward, and with one hand held her wrists together and the other webbed them together.

Now that she was restrained, Izuku could put in his spare vial. He frowned at his pockets. Maybe he should invest in a fanny pack. Or at least stitch zippers into the pockets. He couldn’t have another event like this happening. The chemicals he used were expensive.

He put the vial into the shooter and closed the hatch. Hopefully this one would stay. His attention was drawn back to Eraserhead when he heard a gunshot.

Oh. A gun was drawn.

Time to step in.

Eraserhead didn’t seem hurt, aside from bruises that had started to appear on his face. Izuku didn’t see any blood leaking through his clothes, but then again he did wear all black so it was hard to tell. He didn’t seem to favor any side, didn’t have a limp.

Izuku copied Eraserhead’s entrance trick and shot a web at the lamppost, swinging over to the two. He carefully aimed his feet at the gun and not Eraserhead. Which was harder than it should have been considering how Eraserhead didn’t want to move away. Then again, guns did work best at a distance.

Izuku successfully knocked the gun out of Lock Picker’s hand, but accidentally kicked Eraserhead in the jaw. The man groaned.

“Sorry!” Izuku called out as he landed. He ran over to where the gun scattered to and picked it up. He pocketed it. “Ha! Not so tough without your weapon, huh?”

Lock Picker seemed to finally realize their group weren’t getting out of the mess they created. Izuku grinned as they held out their arms in surrender. Eraserhead stepped forward and tied them up with his capture weapon. Izuku stepped forward and handed the hero the gun he snatched.

Police sirens were in the distance, and that was Izuku’s cue to leave. “See you around, Eraser.” He gave a mock solute and shot a web at the store’s roof, climbing it up. He ran across the rooftops until he was sure no police or heroes would find him.

His throbbing ankle was what made him sit down. He let his legs dangle over the edge. He could feel the adrenaline leaving his body. He swung his legs back and forth.

He had never experienced that kind of rush before. Was that what it was like to be an actual hero? Man, was Izuku jealous.

He laughed, realizing Eraserhead hadn’t taken back his permission. He could very well continue actually fighting, actually stopping villains and criminals.

He stood up, cracking his knuckles. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with this.

Chapter Text

The video of Izuku’s flip gone wrong went viral. The only reason why he knew was because Mei was having a field day with it, and Aizawa mentioned it to Yamada in passing, muttering something about grey hairs and problem children.

Izuku sat on his bed, halfway dressed in his gear. He was scrolling through the comments on the post. Most of them seemed like they believed it was the real deal, while a few were skeptical. Some of them were calling him out for not using his “quirk”, so how could they believe?

It was a fair point. One he would have to counter. Tonight, perhaps?

He pocketed the device and stood up. He stretched his arms over his head. He bent down and reached under the bed, pulling out his Kumo hoodie and slipping it on. He then unzipped the fanny pack he had on his side. He wanted to supply it with support items in the future, but for now it housed extra webbing vials.

He placed three in there before zipping it back up. He glanced at the closed closet where he kept the supplies for making them. He was almost out. He’d have to go shopping soon.

Izuku opened the window and slid out. He closed it until he could slip his fingers underneath. He would have closed it all the way, but it’d be a hassle to get it open again when he returned. The outside didn’t have indents for fingers to grip.

Satisfied that he wasn’t locked out, Izuku turned and ran into the night.

He went in the opposite direction he usually went. If he was going to be living here for the time being, he needed to learn the layout. As he passed by stores and restaurants, he noted the names and filed them away for later in the back of his mind. He’d add them to his notebook later.

Izuku strolled down the sidewalk. It was a quiet night so far, so he didn’t feel the need to hide on the rooftops. It gave his joints a break too. Constantly leaping from roof to roof couldn’t be good for them, if how they tended to crack in the morning was anything to go by. Maybe he needed to stretch. Maybe yoga? He filed that away for later as well.

He passed by another man walking in the opposite direction. He glanced up, then back at his phone. Izuku heard him gasp and stop walking. Normally, Izuku would have continued on his way but the man spoke up.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re Kumo!”

Izuku stiffened and looked over his shoulder. “Wow. Still can’t believe people recognize me.”

The man took a short step forward. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “what’s your Quirk?”

Izuku’s brain short-circuited. He blinked. “Ah. . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he could lie and say it was a spider related Quirk. Given his outfit and persona, it would only be logical to assume so.

Izuku internally groaned. It’s only logical . I’m spending too much time around Aizawa-san.

Luckily--or unluckily, depending on how one read the situation--a scream saved him from answering the question. Both Izuku and the man turned in the direction. It was two blocks away.

Izuku turned to run, but the man behind him called out. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question!”

Izuku’s eye twitched under his mask in irritation. The man clearly heard the scream, couldn’t he see that someone was in danger?

His brain and mouth betrayed him as he thought of the only thing the man wouldn’t believe to throw him off. “I don’t have one! Now I really have to go!”

He bolted down the sidewalk, turning corners sharply. He knew the general direction, but was unable to pinpoint where the victim was. He saw a cloaked figure zoom past him. That was most likely the culprit, but Izuku couldn’t go after them. He had to find whoever they attacked.

So he ran in the direction the figure had come from. He ran in the middle of the road, looking down alleyways and searching rooftops. 

He stopped. Under one of the streetlights was a growing puddle. Izuku felt himself pale at the realization. That was blood .

He skidded to a halt in front of the alley. In the darkness he could make out a curled up figure. He tried not to gag at how his boots splashed in the blood. He knelt down next to the person.

“Hello?” he called out, tapping on their shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

The person groaned and attempted to move, saying in a feminine voice, “Help.”

Izuku placed both hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down. “Don’t move, m’am. What happened?”

As the lady told her tale with only the occasional wince or yelp, Izuku went through the basic first aid check. Her arms and legs were fine. Her level of consciousness was a 3 as she was able to speak about what happened.

She was walking home from the night shift at a bar nearby when she was cornered. She claimed to not know the man. He had a knife and was asking for money. When she didn’t give any, he stabbed her, pocketed her cash, and ran. A mugging gone wrong.

Izuku found the wound on her stomach. Her white shirt was stained with red, the darkest parts coming from the right side. He applied pressure with one hand while the other grabbed his burner phone. He slid it over to her, telling her to call the police for an ambulance but not to mention him.

While she did that, Izuku took out his pocket knife and cut his hoodie sleeve off. He shivered as his bare skin hit the cold air. He then sliced the sleeve into small parts so he could use them. He pocketed the knife and pressed one hand-made gauze pad onto the wound.

The lady hissed, but tried to stay still. Izuku heard from the other side of the phone that an ambulance had been dispatched and should be there shortly. The lady hung up and handed the phone back.

Izuku wished he had some tape so he didn’t have to hold the pads. The longer he was out in the open the more likely someone else would stumble upon them. If he could he’d watch from the rooftop and make sure she got treated.

Izuku attempted to keep her engaged in conversation. She spoke of her two children at home, one of which just got his Quirk. The kid could blow smoke out of his mouth. It was a mutation of her own; she could only blow it out of her nose. The other kid still has yet to get hers.

“Oh, it’s such a wonderful sight,” she said, eyes blinking slowly. “Akari follows her twin around, pretending to have his Quirk and they both laugh when Ichiro surrounds them with his smoke.”

Izuku smiled under his mask. It wasn’t a powerful Quirk in itself, but he had no doubt that as the child grew older more uses would be found and it would get stronger. Maybe he would find out he could control how dense the smoke is.

Izuku shook his head. Now was not the time to analyze. He had to focus.

“That sounds great,” he said. “They sound great.”

The lady smiled as her eyes slipped shut. Izuku panicked. He checked her pulse as he tried to get her to open her eyes. He urged her to talk about anything, work, her kids, troubles she might have, just open your eyes!

Ambulance sirens were coming down the street when she finally opened her eyes. Izuku sighed, shoulders slumping. He told her to keep pressure on her wound.

“I wish I could stay,” he said, preparing to shoot a web and swing out.

“I understand,” the lady whispered. “Thank you, Kumo.”

Izuku paused, looking back. Was this the night where he just got recognized? Oh well. He nodded and shot a web. It stuck to the roof. He quickly climbed up and sawed off the remaining web so the paramedics didn’t know he was there.

He wouldn’t have minded if they found out, but that wasn’t why he was doing this. He didn’t care about recognition or news coverage. He just wanted to help people.

He waited on the rooftop until he saw the lady get loaded into the ambulance. If the attacker came back for whatever reason, he wanted to be there. Luckily there was no need.

He watched as the ambulance sped off and disappeared from his sight. He sighed and turned around, getting back to his patrol.

                                                              __________________________

The window was just like how he left it when he returned. He wasn’t sure why he expected it to be any different. The adults never went into his room without permission, let alone in the middle of the night.

He slipped back inside and shut the window halfway. He walked over to the door and flicked the lightswitch. He turned around and stretched, audible cracks and pops coming from the joints. He tugged off his now ruined hoodie and threw it under the bed. Next came the fanny pack, which was gently pushed under the bed.

Izuku knelt down to untie his boots when he froze. A small trail of blood was staining the carpet. He cursed, looking down at the bottom of his boots. The blood must have not dried all the way.

He quickly got his boots off and threw them under the bed. If they stained under there as well, well at least nobody would check.

He opened his door and tiptoed out. He knew what he needed, and it involved sneaking passed the staircase. Izuku was pretty sure he had gotten home before Aizawa, so all he really needed to worry about was keeping an eye on the front door.

He successfully made it to the kitchen. He was glad Blizzard was somewhere else in the house, or else he would have been given away. Fluffy was lounging in the sink. Izuku smiled and pet him. The grumpy cat let out a quiet hiss.

Izuku frowned and snatched the dish soap. He then stood on the balls of his feet to reach the bowls. Sometimes he really hated his height.

Items in his grasp, he headed back down the hall. He went into the bathroom to fill the bowl with water and grab a washcloth. He poured in some soap and mixed it until it fizzed up. Then he went back to his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

He knelt next to the first blood stain. It was dry. He dipped the corner of a washcloth in the soapy water and dabbed the stain. He continued this until the stain was gone. He repeated the process with every stain until they were either gone or you couldn’t see them without squinting and knowing what you were looking for.

He finished just in time, too. Izuku shoved the dish soap and bowl under his bed when the front door closed. Aizawa was home.

Izuku scrambled to his closet and pulled out a random shirt and pair of shorts. He nearly ripped his pants off. He struggled to get his leg through his shorts. In his haste, he stumbled backwards and fell.

He held his breath and waited.

He didn’t hear the footsteps, but he did hear the knocking at his door.

“Midoriya?” Aizawa asked from the other side.

Maybe if I don’t answer he’ll go away.

“Midoriya, if you don’t answer I’m going to assume the worst and get Hizashi.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “I’m fine!” he squeaked out, voice cracking. “No need for Yamada!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have added that last part, because Aizawa was opening the door. Izuku hurriedly fixed his shorts. Being on the floor in the middle of the night was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need anybody seeing him in his boxers.

Aizawa noticed the open window first. Then he took in Izuku’s disheveled appearance. “Be quieter the next time you try to sneak into the house.”

Izuku sucked in a breath and nodded.

Aizawa did one last sweep of the room with his eyes before leaving. Izuku waited until he couldn’t hear the man’s footsteps. He stood up and hurried over to the door and shut it.

He finished getting his pajamas on and crawled into bed. He shivered. Maybe he should go shut the window. But laying down made him realize how exhausted he really was. The adrenaline from helping that lady and a few criminals was finally wearing off, and Izuku struggled to keep his eyes open.

So he let them shut.

Chapter Text

“You’re such an idiot!”

“I know.”

“People are going to figure it out!”

“I know.”

“Next thing you know, those heroes you’re staying with will be knocking down the warehouse door with handcuffs!”

“I know, Mei!” Izuku had his elbows on the testing table, hands pulling at his hair. He didn’t watch as Mei paced the floor. She was holding a pair of scissors and Izuku didn’t want to be on the receiving end of them.

Mei had found a video of Kumo a few days after it was posted. It hadn’t gone viral, much to their relief. But it was out there. Anyone could view it and know Kumo was Quirkless. It also looked like the guy didn’t understand the art of clickbaiting, as the title was just “Kumo sighting”.

Ever since Izuku’s video, people started uploading their own little clips of Kumo out and about. So far it was just him jumping and running across rooftops, but Izuku wouldn’t be surprised if people had videos of him fighting. He just hadn’t seen any yet.

Mei was rightfully furious. She claimed that now that people knew about his Quirklessness, that they’d realize the tools he had were illegal support items. Izuku reasoned that there was no way it could be traced back to her. The only way that would be possible was if he got taken in and questioned, and even then he wouldn’t mention her at all. Her future career as a support creator was still intact.

That didn’t stop her from scolding Izuku for at least thirty minutes after he entered the warehouse, which would have been fine if Izuku hadn’t already beaten her to it himself.

Looking back at the event, he remembered the man’s phone had been in his hand. If he hadn’t been so stupid or distracted, he would have saw how it was pointed up at him.

Mei sighed and let the scissors drop from her hand. It clanged on the stone floor. “Even if one of us knew how to hack,” she said, “people have probably already spread it everywhere.”

“I really am sorry, Mei,” Izuku mumbled.

“I can’t even decide if I should keep these new babies from you as punishment.”

Izuku’s head perked up. He placed his hands in between his legs and leaned forward. “New babies?”

Mei stiffened, realizing her mistake. She turned to face Izuku with wide eyes. “Don’t you dare-”

“Let’s test them.” Izuku grinned when Mei threw her head back and groaned. She had fallen into his trap and not even her own willpower would get her out.

Izuku hopped off the chair and followed the pink-haired girl over to one of the tables. She made sure to hide the babies from Izuku’s prying eyes. She swiped them into a bag and slung it over her shoulder.

The two made their way out of the warehouse. Izuku tried to peek into the bag, but Mei just kept moving it out of his sight. She must be really mad if she’s willingly withholding an invention from someone.

Eventually, they made it to Dagobah beach. It had been awhile since they’ve been there to test anything out. Most things could be tested in the warehouse. Izuku’s curiosity grew.

His eyes wandered over the trash covered sand. He was surprised to see that nearly half of the garbage was missing. Someone had been cleaning it out.

Mei found a cleared off fridge that had been tipped onto its side and set her bag down. Still not taking the inventions out yet, she spun around and faced the young vigilante. “Okay,” she began, “I have four babies with me. Three of which are for you, one is for whatever.”

She reached back and pulled one out. She extended her hand. It laid flat in her palm. Izuku gasped when he realized what they were. They were his new gloves.

He snatched them from the girl and examined them. One side of the glove was attached to the web-shooter while the other side wasn’t so he could slide them on. He did just that. With both gloves on, he flexed his hands, turning his wrists. The side that wasn’t attached was on the inside of the wrist, which gave way for more maneuverability. The band for the shooters was thick. It was like the edge of winter gloves.

“Where’s the trigger?” he asked, looking up from his new gear.

Mei stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. “You’re always complaining about how you accidentally shoot webs when you don’t need to,” she explained. “So I did the same thing I did with the mask and made it fingerprint activated. You pull off the top middle and ring finger, then press down where you normally would.”

Mei opened a small compartment in the band and poured in a vial of webbing fluid she had somehow pulled out of thin air. She snapped the cap shut once the vial was empty. “And now you don’t have to worry about losing any more.”

The green-haired boy aimed at the ground and pressed down on the fingerprint sensor. Webbing shot out, although it didn’t stick due to the sand’s consistency. Izuku couldn’t help it; he started to tear up. He sniffed, trying to stop snot from flowing out of his nose. He drew in shaky breaths, and before he knew it the tears broke free.

He grabbed Mei by the straps of her tank top and pulled her close, burying his face into her shoulder. He sobbed freely, now, and tightened his grip when he felt Mei’s hand pat his back. She must be surprised. Sure, he cried around her before, he had the Midoriya family tear ducts after all. But he never hugged her. If that could be considered a hug. It felt nice.

How long had it been since he had a hug? That was a depressing thought, and he quickly threw it away. He didn’t want to think about it. Because thinking about it meant thinking about the only person he knew who could give the best hugs and she was gone and then he’d start thinking about flames and then about an explosive blond and then–

He sucked in a breath and pushed away. He wiped furiously at his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, voice wavering. He struggled to keep his breathing normal. He stared at where he had planted his face. He grimaced at the tear stains he left and how her tank top was now crumpled slightly.

Mei just ruffled his hair. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, “you’ve been through a lot.”

The young vigilante sniffed. “Thanks, Mei.” At her confused stare, he continued. “For doing this. You know the risks and you still chose to help me. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you.”

I probably would have been caught within the first few months .

“You don’t have to thank me, Izuku,” Mei said. She kicked at the sand before turning back to her bag and fishing through it, pulling out objects that looked suspiciously like smoke bombs. “Anyway, we have more babies to test out.”

                                                                        ______________

Izuku stood in front of the U.A. gate. His eyes stared wide at the building. He was amazed at how much bigger it was in person. Teenagers wandered around campus, most going inside the building while others hung around the front doors.

The general education exam and hero exam were on the same day, but the general education one started first in case any hero examinees wanted to try their hand with that course as well. The support and business exams were the next day. Izuku was on his own while Mei was back at the warehouse finalizing some inventions.

After staring at the school for a disturbingly long time, Izuku took his first steps and entered the campus.

As much as he didn’t want to be taking the exam, he couldn’t help but feel excited. It would probably be his only time inside, aside from getting his leg healed. U.A. wasn’t just the top hero school, it only took the best of the best for the other courses too.

Izuku thought his grades were average at best. He had looked at his transcripts from when he used to go to Aldera and only then did he realize how discriminatory the teachers were. They always pretended to be oblivious towards his struggles, going as far as to blame him. But he didn’t think they’d alter his grades. On some tests he remembered getting more answers correct than another student but when he confronted the teacher, he just claimed he was cheating and that was that.

But seeing how his grades drastically rose once starting online school, it became clear that his old teachers were obviously in the wrong. It was hard to commit Quirk discrimination on students when you never saw the students in person. He was pretty sure Quirks weren’t even on the students’ files since it didn’t matter.

At first, Izuku thought U.A. would be the same. That they’d reject him without even letting him take the exam. He even voiced those concerns to Aizawa and Yamada, but they said that they got rid of that rule a few years ago. Aizawa grumbled about how they shouldn’t have had that rule in the first place.

Izuku had really been counting on that rule to keep him out. But if it meant staying with them, then he had no choice.

He took a deep breath and continued walking towards the building. The general education exam was being held in the second and third year classrooms. Izuku had been assigned 2-F for his exam. He had been sent a confirmation email three days before the exam date.

Someone held one of U.A.’s many doors open for him, and Izuku thanked them, taking the door from her and holding it for the next person.

Teachers and teenagers wandered around the facility. There were a few groups of teenagers hanging by the walls and talking to each other as they waited for the exam. There were also signs that pointed in the directions they had to go.

Izuku couldn’t help but stare at the teachers as he walked towards a flight of stairs. He was surrounded by so many heroes. He wasn’t sure if he should feel excited or threatened. Logically, he knew that none of them were on his case so he had no actual reason to be wary. Why would the police force waste daylight heroes on a vigilante that only shows up at night?

But deep in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but watch their body language. His body was preparing for the flight or fight response, leaning heavily on flight. He didn’t fight heroes and he wasn’t hoping to start anytime soon.

The boy walked up the nearest flight of stairs. There were fewer people up there. The classroom by the stairs was 2-A. Izuku began the trek down the hallway. The doors nearly touched the ceiling. He wondered what kind of Quirks they accommodated for.

Each door was open. Some had a lot of kids inside, some had a few. They all had a hero.

Except 2-F. The door was open, yet nobody was inside.

Izuku stood in the doorway, poking his head inside. His eyes swept over the entire room a few times to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He looked over his shoulder and didn’t see any teacher coming by.

He took a few steps inside and peeked around the podium. He half expected to see Aizawa in his yellow sleeping bag he liked to carry around given his luck. But there was no sign of the caterpillar.

Whistling startled the boy, and he turned around. Yamada, dressed in his Present Mic outfit, walked into the room. He was carrying a large, black box and clearly couldn’t see in front of him.

Izuku scurried out of the way and watched as the man approached the podium. Present Mic set the box on the ground next to it and popped off the top. He took out one of the stacks.

His whistling halted when he caught sight of Izuku standing near a desk. “Hey, Little Listener! Didn’t see you there.”

“Seems like you couldn’t see much of anything,” Izuku replied.

The man laughed. “Well since you’re here, why not help me set up? Each desk gets one packet for each subject.”

Izuku nodded and moved forward. He was handed the stack Present Mic held. He read the top sheet. It was the testing packets. As Izuku walked down the rows, placing one on each desk with Present Mic placing the answer sheets down, Present Mic jokingly told him not to peek at them.

Present Mic told him that when he was done, find the answer sheet with his name on it and have a seat. A few minutes later, more teenagers started to trickle in. Present Mic told them the same thing; find their answer sheet, take a seat.

Izuku fiddled with his pencil as his leg bounced up and down. Some of the people around him were still talking as they waited for the time to approach. He watched Present Mic slide the door shut.

“Alright!” the loud man exclaimed, catching everyone’s attention. “Welcome to U.A.’s general education entrance exam! How’s everyone feeling?”

He was met with silence.

“Yeah, I get it,” he continued, moving to stand behind the podium. “Let’s get the rules out of the way. You shouldn’t have your phones with you, no looking at your neighbors papers. If you’re suspected of cheating, your test will be thrown out and you won’t get in. When you’re done with one subject, put the packet on the floor and move to the next one. When you finish the whole thing, wait patiently until everyone’s done. I think that about covers it, so let’s get started!”

The moment Present Mic stopped talking, the testers picked up their first packet and opened them. The sound of pencils scribbling and pages turning soon filled the room.

Izuku had picked the English test first, and searched for the corresponding answer sheet. For the next few hours he and the others worked through each packet. Izuku was sure some of them had some kind of intelligence Quirk, because as he glanced at the clock as it neared the three hour mark, he saw that some of them had finished and were either staring at the wall or sleeping.

He was one of the last to finish as the five hour mark passed.

“Alright!” Present Mic called out when he noticed everyone was done. “I bet you’re all glad that’s over with, huh? Those of you interested in the hero exam, head out now. Everyone else, feel free to go home or stop by the cafeteria and get lunch made by Lunch Rush!”

And with that, the teenagers made their way out of the classroom. Present Mic made his way around the room to pick up the tests. A sudden thought made Izuku stop in the doorway. Dread filled his body.

“Hey, Present Mic?”

“Go on ahead, Midoriya,” he said, putting the test packets into the box, “I have to go help with the hero exam.”

“If I get in,” Izuku continued, “how will I pay for tuition?”

The energetic man paused briefly, as if that question hadn’t crossed his mind. “We’ll figure it out, Listener. Now go get something to eat. I heard Lunch Rush made katsudon.”

Izuku flew out the door as Present Mic laughed.

Chapter Text

The next two weeks were hell for Izuku. He couldn’t stand the stress of waiting for the test results. So in order to take his mind off of things, he increased his patrol time. Which, in hindsight, that probably wasn’t a good thing since school was starting up whether or not he got into U.A. but that was a problem for future Izuku.

Izuku was halfway through his night when he decided to go a bit further than usual. There wasn’t anything happening in his usual route, and it wouldn’t hurt to protect more people, would it?

So he found himself on a rooftop in the busy nightlife of Kamino. People paraded around from bar to bar, club to club. Drunk laughter rang throughout the streets. With so many people around, the chances of crime happening were small but Izuku wasn’t taking that chance. Some villains wanted an audience, thrived on it in fact.

As Izuku leisurely walked along the rooftop of a clothing store, his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the entrance exam. His letter had arrived two days ago, but he had left it on his desk unopened. He was too scared. What if he didn’t get in? Would he be kicked out?

He knew the most logical thing to do was to ask either Aizawa or Yamada if that was even true, considering he probably wasn’t supposed to overhear that conversation. It was better to get an answer than worry about it. But what if they decided to kick him out on the basis of eavesdropping?

He’d be back on the streets and only seeing Eraserhead every few weeks when they accidentally cross paths. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle that without freaking out and spilling everything. Of course, the original plan before all of this happened was to leave town in the first place. That seemed like the best option if things went south.

He wouldn’t have to see them again, and his secret would be safe.

Thinking of the underground hero brought Izuku’s mind to their shared battle a few weeks ago. He wondered if Eraserhead was aware he still technically had his permission to fight. The man never revoked it, never had the chance to.

He should invest in a staff if that were the case. That could do a lot more good than his fists. Izuku knew he wasn’t the most athletic person out there even if he was fighting crime on a near nightly basis. But he never had actual training so it was justified. He just relied on instinct and whatever good online videos were out there. A staff would be a good somewhat long ranged weapon. The only problem was hiding it. He could shove his hoodie and everything under his bed, but a staff would be much harder.

His thoughts were interrupted by a group of people walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. Normally that wouldn’t be a cause for alarm, but they were sticking to the shadows and some of their heads were constantly looking around.

Something swam in his gut that told him to follow, and follow he did. He made sure to stay down enough that they wouldn’t be able to see him, but not so much that he lost sight of them.

He was doing a good job until they turned and headed down an alley. Izuku cursed under his breath and jumped off the roof. He landed on a dumpster and slipped off. He dodged and avoided civilians and ran over to the alley the group had disappeared into.

Except as he looked in, there was no sign of them. There wasn’t even a manhole cover they could have slipped into. And there was no feasible way for all five to get down there in the time it took Izuku to arrive in the first place.

Sighing, he made his way back onto the rooftops and headed in the direction the group was going. Maybe he’d get hints.

The lively citizens of Kamino slowly disappeared behind him as he got closer to the quieter part. He called it that because there were so many abandoned buildings that nobody even bothered to hang around unless you were up to no good.

He came across a rundown bar with the lights on. Izuku paused. The group had been coming this way, and seeing as how the bar was the only building currently open, Izuku assumed that’s where they were heading. Did one of them have a strong teleportation Quirk?

One of his questions was answered when the front door of the bar opened, and the group of five walked out. Maybe they weren’t criminals. Maybe they just wanted a drink where nobody else was.

Izuku shook his head. Even he knew how ridiculous that was. But, glancing at his phone, he realized he needed to get back home soon. It was almost two in the morning. He’d come back later.

                                                                       ________________

Izuku fidgeted with his tie before letting his hands drop to his sides in defeat. It was no use. He’d never tie it correctly. It wasn’t his fault that online videos weren’t helpful. The adults already left since they had to get ready for the new year. Izuku would rather walk around with a weird tie than get embarrassed and ask for help.

He had wanted to wait until the last possible minute before opening his letter from U.A., but Yamada handing him his uniform a few days ago gave him his answer. He had tried to look excited, but deep down he really did not want to go. He was content with his online studies. And besides, seeing the hero course kids would just rub salt in the wound. He would constantly be reminded that he couldn’t be an actual hero.

Giving up on looking presentable, Izuku grabbed his backpack off the toilet and hooked his arms through the straps. He inhaled deeply, slightly puffing out his chest, and looked in the mirror. He grinned.

The grin slipped when Izuku caught sight of the bags under his eyes. Now that school was starting, he’d have to limit how long he stayed out. If he went out at all.

But that was something to think about later. If he didn’t leave right now, he’d be late. It was never something Izuku had to think about for a few years, but he figured being late on the first day wasn’t good.

He ran down the driveway after making sure the front door was locked. Boy, was he glad the two heroes lived so close to the school. He dodged the other pedestrians on the sidewalk, apologizing as he squeezed by.

It took him ten minutes to reach the front gate. He paused to lean forward and catch his breath. Some students passed him and gave him looks. He shrugged them off and continued his way to the building.

The hallways weren’t as crowded as they had been during the entrance exam, but given how close it was to the start of school Izuku wasn’t surprised. He quickly made his way down the hallway and found classroom 1-C. He slid open the door and stepped inside.

Looking around, he saw that most students were either at their desks or in small groups talking to each other. How they managed to already form friendship circles on the first day, Izuku would never understand.

When he noticed that the chalkboard at the front of the room said to pick a seat, Izuku ended up choosing a desk near the back. Not the complete back, but close enough that he wouldn’t be right in front. It was also the row closest to the door.

He placed his backpack on the floor and pulled out a notebook. He flipped open to the first page. It had the schedule. First was homeroom, followed by math, modern literature, English, art history, and a break for lunch. Then gym and a study hall afterwards.

Izuku closed the notebook when the classroom door opened again and their homeroom teacher entered. He was shocked to see Yamada--or Present Mic, seeing as he was in his hero uniform--walk towards the podium with a stack of papers in one hand and a cup of what appeared to be coffee in the other. Izuku hoped it wasn’t coffee. That man didn’t need caffeine.

“Good morning, class!” the voice hero called out, “how’s everyone doing?”

The blond was met with silence. He grinned anyway, and continued. “Alright, I get that it’s early in the morning. To get things moving forward, let’s all introduce ourselves, say something interesting about yourself, and your Quirk if you want to. Let’s go row by row, starting with you!”

Present Mic pointed at a girl with long, grey hair that seemed to move like liquid. She was stunned for a second, before blinking and standing up. “Uh, I’m Shiraishi Yasu. I’m the oldest of  five siblings, and my Quirk is Tough Strands. My hair acts like a putty and I can make it change shape. If it’s not moving constantly, it can get stiff and dry out.”

Izuku watched as Shiraishi sat down, his mind instantly starting to analyze her Quirk. Since she can control the shape, could she hold it and let it harden? That could be a good weapon. Maybe she could control what parts move. If she just let the top part of her hair move, the hair near her back could harden and she could move it around easier.

Such a great Quirk for-

Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts by a force hitting his forehead. He turned a bit and saw a hand preparing for another flick. Izuku’s face reddened as he realized he had been muttering. He whispered an apology to the purple haired kid and looked down. He kept his gaze pointed at his desk while the introductions continued.

As they went, Izuku wondered if he would be the only one to not say a Quirk. Present Mic had said it was optional, but this was U.A., of course kids would want to show off their Quirks.

He kept that assumption until the purple haired kid in front of him took his turn.

“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi,” was all he said before sitting back down. The class seemed to look at him expectantly before Present Mic just nodded.

Izuku swallowed. At least he knew he wouldn’t be the only one. “I, uh, I’m Midoriya Izuku and I enjoy. . .” He glanced around. He couldn’t exactly say Quirk analysis. His old classmates at Aldera found it creepy. What if it was the same here? He wouldn’t be surprised. “Reading,” he finished as his eyes landed on a book on some girl’s desk.

It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t very interesting.

Izuku breathed out a sigh of relief as he sat back down and homeroom ended. Now to survive the rest of the day. Boy, had he forgotten how much in-person school sucked.

He was glad the next four classes seemed to move by fast. Midnight finished up her introduction to art history before dismissing them for lunch. Izuku put his notebook into his backpack before following his classmates out to the hallway.

Izuku did a double take when he saw a familiar head of spiky hair yelling at a student with red hair. The red-haired kid just seemed to laugh it off. Fear rose through Izuku, and he quickly turned and pushed his way through the crowd of students.

Of course, Kacchan had gotten in. It was all he talked about when Izuku still went to school with him. Talking about how heroes and how he’d be the first and only student from Aldera to get in. If he saw that Izuku had gotten in as well, albeit a different course, all hell would be broken loose.

Izuku could have sworn he heard that gravely voice call out an old nickname. He just needed to get to the cafeteria. Then he could disappear, at least for a little bit. He knew that it was now inevitable that Kacchan would find him, but he hoped he could put it off for at least the first month.

But the universe just loved to screw him over, and a hand grabbed onto his shoulder and jerked him back. Izuku cried out in surprise as he was shoved against the wall. For a few seconds, he watched as the other students passed by, either just glancing or outright ignoring them.

Izuku eventually braved it and met the pair of angry, red eyes glaring at him.

“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku stumbled out. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Deku.” And oh, how that name brought back memories. Not the good kind. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I, uh, well. I go here?” He gestured to his now bunched up uniform.

The grip on his shoulder tightened, and Izuku swore he heard a few pops coming from Kacchan’s free hand. “You know what I mean. You disappear for years, and I find you scurrying through the halls? What the hell!” Bakugou held up his palm in a threatening manner. “I want answers.”

Izuku scrambled to think of a response that wouldn’t get him burned. The halls were now clear as everyone had gone to lunch.

And now it seemed the universe took pity on him, as Izuku caught sight of the purple-haired kid that flicked his head. “Shinsou!” he called out. Shinsou stopped, staring directly at the two. “There you are! I was waiting for you. Sorry, Kacchan but I have to go.”

He was lucky that Kacchan seemed to be in a state of shock, as his grip had loosened enough for Izuku to remove his fingers from his shirt. He snuck around the explosive boy and hightailed it over to Shinsou, who was still trying to understand what was happening.

Izuku latched onto Shinsou’s arm and started dragging the poor kid away. “Let’s get lunch!”

Izuku didn’t let his muscles relax until the two of them were standing in the lunch line. They got their food and somehow found an empty table near the back.

“Sorry about that,” Izuku said as they sat down. “That was a kid from my old school.”

“Seems to have a serious problem with you,” Shinsou stated as he twirled his noodles around his chopsticks.

“Yeah. Hey, this is probably an invasive question but why didn’t you say your Quirk?”

Shinsou stared at Izuku, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just wond-”

Instantly, it felt like Izuku had been transported into a dream. He could see what was happening around him, he watched as Shinsou just put his food into his mouth and chewed. But it was far away. Like it was a movie, but not. He couldn’t move his limbs.

As soon as Shinsou swallowed, the feeling ended. Izuku blinked a few times, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling from his brain.

“Whoa,” Izuku sighed. “That was so cool! What was that?”

Shinsou seemed taken aback. “Brainwashing.”

“That was awesome! Do you know how useful that would be for hero work? Why aren’t you in the hero course? All you have to do is get a villain to respond, and then have them walk into the police car and boom! Villain apprehended.”

“You’re not freaked out?”

Izuku shook his head. “That Quirk is amazing for underground heroics. Why aren’t you in the course?”

Shinsou gave him a look asking if he was stupid. “Can’t brainwash robots.”

Izuku blinked. “That’s the hero entrance exam? That’s so dumb! Do they know how many people they’re limiting? They should at least have an after-school group for underground heroics.”

Shinsou nodded. “I gave you my answer,” he said, “now how come you didn’t say yours?”

“Can’t say what I don’t have,” was his response before he could even think about it properly.

Shinsou glanced up at him from his plate. “Huh.”

Now it was Izuku’s turn to be shocked. “You’re not. . . You don’t hate me?”

“Why would I hate you? You clearly don’t hate me for my villainous Quirk, why should I hate you for your lack of one?”

“Your Quirk isn’t villainous,” Izuku defended.

“Tell that to literally everyone.”

“Are you a villain?”

“. . . No.”

Izuku crossed his arms. “Then it’s not a villainous Quirk.”

The green-haired boy saw the slightest twitch of Shinsou’s lips, and knew this was the start of a great friendship.

                                                           ____________________

Izuku was following that villain gathering hotspot again. He still wasn’t sure why groups of villains seemed to mingle in that rundown bar. He could never get close enough. All he knew was that whatever it was, was happening Wednesday next week.

The original plan was to just show up at the bar at the crack of dawn and follow them, but spotting someone using a rare warp Quirk stopped that plan before it even began. Now he was back to square one; watching and listening.

It was much harder to do that when one couldn’t even enter the establishment without giving away his position. And he felt like even if he did, it wouldn’t do much. If these villains were planning something big, then they’d know their numbers and most likely the names, considering every day for the past week it was always a group of five villains. No more, no less. They’d be able to tell if there was an extra person.

And Izuku had recognized some of the villains. He had fought them in his early days of being a vigilante. He didn’t understand how they got out of jail, considering some of their crimes should have put them away for life, but after seeing that warp Quirk Izuku had a vague idea.

The chances of them putting Early Day Kumo together with Current Kumo were slim, seeing how his costume had changed throughout the years. But that slim chance was what held him back.

Izuku crouched low, watching as the next group of villains entered the building. He decided to get closer. He’d linger in the alley and hope that some of them were stupid enough to spill something.

He pressed himself up against the wall right as a group walked by. He heard one of them say “USJ” and “heroes” before another slapped a hand over their mouth and whispered harshly to them.

It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. For now, Izuku had research that needed to get done. He had a feeling that heroes wouldn’t go to Universal Studios Japan during work hours.

So with that, Izuku had to hurry home. Wednesday was tomorrow and he didn’t have much time.

Chapter Text

It had taken Izuku roughly an hour to figure out what exactly USJ was. When he looked it up initially, he had just found Universal Studios Japan but that was ruled out. Heroes don’t routinely patrol a theme park. But maybe that was the point.

But as he dug, he stumbled upon a link that was a few years old. It spoke about how U.A. was building a new facility designed for a bunch of disasters in order to help prepare their students.

So he came up with a plan to get himself out of school.

As soon as he heard the two adults across the hall start to get up and do their daily routine, Izuku got into position. He had a large bowl on a towel next to his pillow. The bowl was filled with a chunky, liquid mixture he made last night. He just finished stirring the scent powder, and he gagged. Wow, that was strong.

He made sure that the fake chunks were safe to go down the toilet should one of them take the bowl.

He lay down, pulling the bowl close to him. He buried his nose into his pillow to mask out the scent. If he breathed it in one more time, he would actually vomit. The smell wasn’t bad if you weren’t literally right next to it.

He tapped the side of the bowl as he waited for his targets to come by.

Sure enough, ten minutes later there was a knock on his door. “Midoriya?” Yamada called. “You almost ready? We have to leave soon.”

Izuku let out a groan, and shifted on his bed.

“Midoriya?” The doorknob twisted, and Yamada poked his head inside. He walked over to Izuku’s bed and knelt down. He had already done his hair. It waved around as he tilted his head. “Are you feeling alright?”

The man caught sight of the bowl and winced. “Yikes.”

“I think it was something I ate,” Izuku whispered.

Yamada snickered. “Must’ve been Shouta’s cooking.”

“I heard that,” a grumpy voice complained from the doorway. Aizawa was leaning against the frame, arms crossed. He was halfway dressed, just missing his black shirt that went over his white tank top. His eyes darted between the bowl and Izuku. “What’s wrong?”

“I think he has food poisoning,” Yamada answered. “You do tend to undercook the chicken sometimes.”

“I do not,” Aizawa defended. Both Yamada and Izuku chuckled. Aizawa sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I’ll call Nezu.” The underground hero turned and walked down the hall, presumably to their room.

Yamada ruffled Izuku’s hair and stood up, grabbing the bowl off the bed. “Get back to sleep, Little Listener.”

Izuku watched as he walked out of the room. The door wasn’t closed, and any one of them could walk by at any moment, but Izuku couldn’t help but fist bump himself. His plan worked!

                                                                    __________________

Izuku had waited an hour after Aizawa and Yamada left for the school to even leave his bed. At that point, he zoomed around his room, hurrying on his outfit. The shirt and pants were easy. The gloves were a bit harder since the fingers could be detached.

He picked up his mask. Once he had secured it on, he gathered his supplies. He made sure his web-shooters were full and had extra viles just in case. He double checked his stock of smoke bombs that Mei had given him.

He slipped on his black hoodie, which sported a red spider on the front and a red web on the back.

He also picked up his small pocket knife. It wasn’t for fighting, but if he got caught in something whether it was rope, cloth, or even his own webbing (which happened more often than he’d like to admit) he'd like to be able to get out.

He was ready.

He looked at his phone for the time. Class had started, and he would take at least ten minutes to get there with full speed. He could use his webs to help, but he didn’t want to run out of fluid before he even got there.

Tossing his phone on his bed, he ran out of the house. He made sure to lock the door. He hoped the pillow Izuku was convincing enough in case any of the adults came back early for whatever reason.

Luck seemed to be on his side that day, as traffic wasn’t bad and there was hardly anyone out to see him. He wouldn’t have minded, in all honesty. The mask hid his face and the vest was bulky enough to hide his frame. He was just worried they could pinpoint his “secret base” as the media liked to call it.

He didn’t have trouble finding the building once he got close to the U.A. campus. It was a large domed structure. He was sure the glass was Quirk proof, so he couldn’t just slam into it. Instead, he had to use the door like a normal person.

He pouted. He loved making big entrances. But it wouldn’t work in this case. He had no idea what the villains were planning.

Izuku swung from a tree and launched himself towards the door. He rolled and sprung up, just in time to see a kid in a costume similar to Ingenium rush out of the building. They made eye contact; Izuku waved while the kid slowed down for the briefest moment in surprise.

Izuku looked back at the door. Whatever was going on had that kid terrified. He could see how he shook even with his speed. He quickly made it to the door, stopping it before it slammed shut. He pulled it open. It seemed like something was holding it in place.

When he peered his head in, he was met with a horrific sight. A group of students were huddled in front, most of them cowering with each other while some others were near a body.

Izuku narrowed his eyes. That was Thirteen! They didn’t appear to be doing well. The back of their suit was torn open, and two students tried to hold it closed.

Then there was the huge black and purple mist surrounding the students. A few students met his eyes, and he held a finger up to his mask. He carefully snuck through the door and over to Thirteen and the others, who were out of sight of the mist.

“What happened?” Izuku asked.

The two girls looked up, startled. The pink haired girl spoke first. “We were supposed to be training,” she whispered. “Villains attacked. Most of our classmates were thrown everywhere.”

The girl in the pink and black outfit squeezed her eyes shut. “We’re trying to keep this shut so they don’t get worse.”

Izuku looked at the torn suit. “Lean back.”

The girls listened. Izuku popped off the tops of his gloves and held both hands over the suit, making sure his web-shooters were aimed at the tear. The angle hurt his wrists. He pressed his fingers down. Webbing shot out and covered the hole. It wasn’t totally sealed, but it would help.

The two girls stared in awe, before realizing their hands had also been caught. Izuku smiled sheepishly and pulled out his knife, swiftly cutting their hands out. The pair shook their wrists, pulling off the remaining web.

“Stay here,” Izuku ordered. “I’ll go help your classmates.” He stood up slowly, trying not to alert the mist’s darting eyes. It seemed to be watching the students.

“I don’t know about the others,” the pink suited girl said, “but I saw Yaoyorozu, Jirou, and Kaminari fall into the mountains.” She pointed across the building.

Izuku nodded. He jumped off the side of the stairs, landing on a pile of broken stone. He hissed in pain, not realizing the jump had been so big. He pushed through, though, and stood up. As he started running, two big explosions let off.

Ah, Izuku thought, Kacchan must be there. He should be fine, his Quirk is pretty good.

So he made his way through the torn and fallen buildings, making sure not to catch the eyes of whatever villains may be lurking. He made it through and prepared to climb the steep dirt. He took one step, finding that it actually held pretty well.

As he climbed, he looked around. He didn’t see anyone nearby yet, but he did catch a glimpse at the fighting near the center. He paused, doing a double take. Eraserhead stood in the middle, swinging his capture weapon around and dodging attacks.

Izuku swallowed, hoping he could handle all of those villains long enough for him to rescue the students. If there were still any left when he was done, he’d join in.

Ice shot passed him as he made it to a small clearing. He ducked, standing up straight once the blast left. He stared at the cause. It was a boy with white and red hair. He seemed as shocked as Izuku was to see him.

Next two the boy was a pair of floating gloves. Huh. Was that a student?

It didn’t matter. He had saving to do.

He bolted towards the students(?), digging into his pocket and pulling out a smoke bomb. When he was right in front of the villains attacking, he slammed it onto the ground. Smoke erupted around them.

Everyone started coughing, but Izuku didn’t have time for that. He grabbed the glove and boy and ran back the way he came. He countered the arguments coming from the boy, stating that a villain wouldn’t be rescuing him and that they didn’t have the time to be petty.

Once they got to the slope Izuku had climbed up, he gently shoved them towards it. The gloves seemed to stumble, but the red/white haired boy steadied them. Izuku and the boy made eye contact.

“There’s at least one person in those buildings,” Izuku said.

The gloves had already started descending down the slope. The boy stared a while longer, before nodding in thanks. He turned and made a path of ice, sliding down the hill and grabbing one of the gloves. The glove squealed.

Izuku turned and started towards the villains. The smoke had finally cleared, but Izuku didn’t have time. He just shot out a few webs, internally celebrating when both of their hands had been caught. They wouldn’t be getting out of that any time soon.

Next stop, the mountains.

He could see bolts of electricity shooting out from everywhere. Either a villain or student was doing that. Or both. Hopefully the student.

Climbing the rocks was surprisingly a lot tougher than the dirt, although his fingers helped him stick to the solid surface a lot better.

He caught sight of two villains and three students. The student with yellow hair spoke to the two girls he was with. They seemed hesitant, but ended up nodding. The girl with black hair tied up materialized a blanket and covered them with it.

Izuku was lucky enough to jump right as one of them let their Quirk loose. He could see the electricity flow through the ground. The two villains, however, didn’t catch the memo. They gasped and groaned, bodies seizing up before falling to the ground.

Izuku landed on a taller rock, concealing himself from view. The students lifted the blanket and tossed it away. The yellow haired boy seemed dazed. No, beyond dazed. He had his thumbs up and he stumbled whenever he moved the tiniest bit.

Izuku was about to help them down when another villain showed up seemingly from nowhere. He snatched the boy, holding electrically charged fingers near his head.

Izuku couldn’t hear what was being said due to the chaos everywhere else. He peeked over the rock, catching the eyes of the two girls. Signalling them both to be quiet, he aimed his wrist at the villain’s face. He only had one shot. If he messed up, the boy could get hurt or the villain could get away.

He took a deep breath. Pressed two fingers down. Shot his webbing.

It hit the villain square in the face. His Quirk stopped and he let the boy go in order to pull whatever had covered him. Izuku snorted. Good luck with that.

Izuku shot off another web, swinging down from his hiding space to scoop up the dazed student. He pushed off the boulder nearby and landed by the girls.

“Let’s go,” was all he said before taking off. He paused briefly to readjust the boy in his arms. He could hear the other two close behind. When they reached the ground, Izuku realized they’d have to go around in order to stay out of the big battle going on.

It took them a few minutes, but they had finally passed the red dome and were making their way by the pond when something made them stop.

A loud and sickening thwack echoed throughout the entire building. All three of them froze and slowly turned to the source. It would have been comedic if it weren’t for the reason.

A large beastly creature stood in the center, towering over someone. Izuku saw the grey scarf and now broken yellow glasses, and came to a terrifying realization.

That monster had taken down Eraserhead in one move.

Izuku turned to the girls, shoving the boy into their arms. “Go to the others,” he commanded, pushing them away from the nightmare inducing scene. “Go!”

They started to move, but their eyes lingered on the hero. Izuku watched as the creature lifted up his head. He nearly threw up at the sight. Blood covered his face and coated his hair. The monster then slammed him back down. The sound of bones breaking and choked screaming would never leave his head.

Izuku also noticed that the black mist from the entrance had now appeared next to a man covered in hands and had taken the form of a person. He seemed to be speaking to the Hand Man.

A voice pulled both Izuku’s and Hand Man’s attention. He watched in horror as he approached two students who had been hidden in the water. The man reached his arm out towards the girl.

Izuku ran, arm stretched and ready to web the man away. Only his webbing didn’t touch the man. It touched something bigger.

Izuku looked up. He felt the color drain from his face as he stared at the creature that had taken out Eraserhead.

The creature didn’t move. The webbing hung off the side of its face, swiftly falling away like it was just a sheet of paper.

“Oh?” Hand Man asked from the other side. Izuku heaved a sigh of relief as he moved away from the students. Hand Man stood up. The creature moved out of the way. “It seems a hidden enemy appeared. And a vigilante at that. Aren’t we lucky, Nomu?”

The creature huffed.

“Too bad you’re not supposed to be in this level. We don’t have high enough stats yet.” Hand Man seemed upset over that. Izuku really did not want to know what that meant. “Oh well. Nomu, get rid of him.”

Izuku’s stomach dropped as the creature--the Nomu--straightened up, and looked directly at him. Its huge arms swung at him. He jumped away. He danced around it, jumping and dodging its arms and mouth. For how big the creature was, it sure was fast. The arms alone looked like it should be holding it back.

Izuku tried to aim for any blindspots, but everytime he moved the Nomu matched him. Remembering he still technically had Eraserhead’s permission to fight, he kicked the beast in the crotch. That should disable any man.

Except the Nomu wasn’t just any man and didn’t seem to be affected by it.

Hand Man appeared annoyed, grunting in frustration and scratching at his neck until it bled.

Across the building, the entrance door burst open. Izuku could hear the students’ gasps and cheers. All Might stood at the top of the stairs. He wasn’t sporting his usual smile. Izuku felt a swell of hope bloom in his chest, but that was quickly shattered when the Nomu took advantage of his distraction.

Both arms smacked into his stomach, sending him across the ground. He slid across the floor, jagged rocks and stones cutting into his arms. He hadn’t landed too far from Eraserhead.

Getting onto his hands and knees brought great pain everywhere, especially his chest. Izuku was pretty sure he felt something crack under the monster’s force. His breaths were sharp and shallow. Every move brought stabbing pain to his lung. If he moved weird or too fast, Izuku felt like his lung would get pierced.

All Might appeared and started fighting the Nomu. Izuku wasn’t paying attention. He had to focus on getting Eraserhead out. The man may be a pain in his side, trying to catch and turn him in, but he was giving Izuku a home and Izuku couldn’t let anything happen to him.

Izuku moved as slowly as he could without moving his broken ribs or alerting Hand Man. Once he was close enough, he gently flipped the hero over so he was on his back. He stood up. His legs shook, and he nearly fell with how much pain it brought. He was glad Eraserhead had taken out the villains. He didn’t think he was in the best condition to fight any more.

He stood up once more, holding his arms out to steady himself. When he knew he wasn’t going to topple over at the slightest bump, he leaned down and scooped his hands under Eraserhead’s shoulders. With the extent of his facial injuries, Izuku really shouldn't be moving the man. But he couldn't just kneel down next to him and prevent him from moving with all of the villains around.

He began walking backwards, dragging the unconscious man with him. He tried his best to keep his breathing as even as possible. He passed All Might and Hand Man. Hand Man had started up his monologue, mentioning how the Nomu was designed to defeat All Might.

So that was the plan, Izuku figured, a grim expression on his face. They wanted to kill All Might.

He was a good distance away when he saw one student from the water jogging over to him. He stopped when he watched her lean down and pick up the hero’s legs. Izuku adjusted his grip and smiled. He knew she couldn’t see it, but the gesture was all that mattered.

“Thank you for your help, ribbit,” she said as they started up the stairs. Izuku had chosen to be the one to go up backwards, so he had to keep his head turned so he didn’t trip.

“Is he your teacher?” Izuku asked, although he knew the answer to that.

“He is,” the green girl answered.

“I’m sorry you guys had to go through that. Nobody this young should.” Wow, way to sound like a hypocrite.

Green girl didn’t reply. Instead, they focused on getting the hero to safety.

Izuku looked up, and saw two figures nearing the fight. He squinted. When did Ice Boy and Kacchan leave the entrance? Wouldn’t they try to stay safe?

Ok, well.

Kacchan made sense. He was always making rash decisions.

He wasn’t sure about Ice Boy, though.

But he couldn’t focus on that. Eraserhead was starting to stir, and they were only halfway up the stairs. The man started to mumble incoherently, occasionally grunting in pain from being jostled around.

Izuku placed a gloved hand over his mouth, shushing him. “You’ll make it worse. Your jaw is probably broken.”

Eraserhead blinked. He seemed to be coherent enough to recognize the vigilante. He mumbled something sounding like, “Kumo?” but the blood in his mouth muffled it.

“It’s me, Eraser,” Izuku said. “Too bad you aren’t well enough to catch me.”

Eraserhead blinked again, more sluggishly that time.

Izuku tapped the side of his head, careful to avoid the injured parts. “Hey, now. None of that. Can’t have you falling asleep on us. Just make noises, don’t strain yourself. Keep those eyes open.”

Izuku kept talking to the man until they finally made it to the other. He noticed that Thirteen was now sitting up and conversing with a student. Another student sat knelt behind them, checking over the webbing Izuku had placed.

A group of students saw Izuku and Green Girl and rushed over, helping take their injured teacher from them and setting him down. They gave short bows in return. Izuku just waved them off.

He should really get going. He needed to check his injuries. Surely that boy he met outside would return with plenty of heroes any second now.

But.

Laying down sounded like a good idea too.

He stumbled forward, the green girl reaching out to help him to the ground. The pressure on his stomach and ankles was lifted. He patted her hand to show appreciation. He laid himself down.

Footsteps approached, and Izuku groaned as he lifted his head to see who was coming up. It was the girl who made the blanket in the mountain.

“I just wanted to thank you for saving us,” she said. “Kaminari could have been hurt if not for you.” Izuku’s eyes wandered over the crowd of students until they landed on the familiar yellow hair. The boy seemed to be doing a lot better. He still seemed out of it, but he was no longer acting drunk.

“Are you injured? I can patch you up the best I can.”

“You don’t have to,” Izuku said, his voice coming out distorted. The two girls stared, wide-eyed. Even Izuku was shocked. He tapped the screen on his mask. It glitched and popped. It was damaged. Great.

Wait.

That meant Eraserhead heard his real voice back there. Shit. He was probably too confused and out of it that he wouldn’t remember, but now that was all Izuku could think about.

The black haired girl knelt next to him. “I’m Yaoyorozu,” she said.

Izuku was taken aback. Did she think she would see his vigilante persona multiple times that she decided to introduce herself? He hoped not. He didn’t want to run into them again. At least not in his suit. They were nice. If they met again while in costume, it would only mean danger.

Izuku was glad she didn’t expect him to answer. He wouldn’t have anyway.

She closed her eyes and rolls of bandages popped out of her stomach. Izuku stared in fascination. Soon, what looked like alcohol wipes appeared.

Yaoyorozu started with his arms. His sleeves had been torn from the creature, so it was easy to rip away and access the scrapes. He hissed when she applied the first alcohol wipe.

Izuku noticed the stares from the other students and couldn’t help but blush under the attention. Sure, the media covered his fights and such but he never went out during the day. He didn’t know how to handle it.

Instead he turned his attention back to the battle going on down below. From what he could tell, Kacchan and the ice and fire boy were trying to take on the mist man. All Might was still attacking the Nomu.

Yaoyorozu had finished his arms, and moved to lift his hoodie up. Izuku jerked back, wincing in pain.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed. “I should have asked. But I saw you take a hit from that thing.”

Izuku calmed down, pulling his arm away from his stomach.

She inhaled sharply, causing Izuku to look down as well. Large bruises had already formed, black and yellow scattering across his abdomen. All she could do was wrap them.

Izuku lowered his hoodie the moment she finished. And it was good timing too, because suddenly the USJ door shot open, nearly flying off its hinges.

A bunch of pro heroes stood there. Izuku recognized most of them, either from research or from running from them. Snipe aimed his gun and fired right as All Might landed a punch on the Nomu so strong it threw it out of the building. Glass shattered, leaving a huge gaping hole. Snipe’s bullet seemed to hit Hand Man.

Some of the other heroes consisted of Present Mic and Ectoplasm, both of which were not very surprised to see Izuku. The heroes started moving around to each location, rounding up villains.

Izuku watched as Hand Man stepped through the mist, disappearing into the black and purple swirls.

Villains were rounded up and herded outside.

Yaoyorozu placed herself in front of Izuku, effectively hiding him from the heroes. Izuku was thankful.

Kaminari walked up to them. “Thanks, man,” he said, meeting Izuku’s eyes. He took in the medical supplies around them. “I think Recovery Girl is out there, if you want her to heal you.”

He appeared to be waiting for a response, so Izuku just pointed to his broken device and mask. He seemed to understand, and backed off. Yaoyorozu and Kaminari helped him stand up. The pressure from the bandages wasn’t nice, but the slight lack of pain was.

Kaminari took Izuku’s left arm and swung it over his shoulder. They slowly made their way outside. Sure enough, the first thing Izuku saw was Recovery Girl standing by an ambulance.

Police officers appeared to be nervous, their eyes tracking the group’s movements. The paramedics looked dumbfounded at the appearance of one of the most wanted vigilantes in the country.

They led him to Recovery Girl, who was giving them an uncertain look. She sighed and had him sit down. The two students left them alone.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, looking over his body to assess the damage. She ended up unwrapping the bandages. “I’m not handing you over to the police.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his stomach.

He shuddered. He didn’t think he could get used to that feeling.

“You’ll be sore for a few days, young man,” she went on.

Izuku sputtered nonsense. Did she know his age? No, of course not. It didn’t seem logical. She probably just assumed based on his activities, or maybe her Quirk gave her an age range. Yeah. That was it.

He couldn’t help but eye the police, who had somehow gotten closer.

“No strenuous adventures.” She paused, taking in the approaching crowd. “Although, I will make an exception this time.” She placed a few gummies into the palm of his hand. “Now go.”

Izuku slid a gummy through the side of his mask, using his tongue to grab it and pull it into his mouth. He quickly chewed and swallowed. The effects were immediate.

He stood up and bowed before taking off. The officers shouted, and he could even hear some of them begin chase. Izuku just jumped up when he reached the gate, climbing up and hopping down.

He shot a web up onto a store front, pulling himself up. People from inside ran out, snaps from cameras faint. Well, if he was going on the internet he might as well pose.

He spun around and stopped, holding up two peace signs. He waited a few seconds to make sure they got good pictures before sprinting across the roof.

He leaped and dove onto building tops, seeing his neighborhood come into view. He didn’t spot Yamada or Aizawa’s cars as he approached the house, and he wasn’t expecting to. At least not soon. They’d most likely go to the hospital and Yamada would get Izuku soon. He wished he could just make his way to the hospital right now, but there was no feasible way that Izuku should even be aware of the situation. At least he had his sick excuse for why he would look weak and tired.

He hopped onto the roof and slid down, holding onto the balcony ledge and swinging himself onto it. He pushed open the balcony door and stepped inside, immediately closing it. When he took off his shoes, he felt all of the adrenaline rush out of his body, despite having a gummy from Recovery Girl.

He sluggishly moved to his room. All he wanted to do was crawl under his blankets and pass out forever. But he couldn’t have the heroes finding his outfit.

So he reluctantly shed everything, deciding to shove it under the bed instead of carefully putting it away. He threw on his white pajama shirt, not caring that it was inside out, and black shorts. He flung his blanket back and fell face first onto the mattress. He wrapped himself in a cocoon and closed his eyes.

God, tomorrow was going to suck.

Chapter Text

Izuku pulled against the cuffs that held his arms behind him, testing their strength. They were Quirk-suppressing cuffs. Izuku wanted to laugh. With that video circulating, he found it funny that they’d even do that. Maybe they hadn’t seen it yet.

The car ride was bumpy, and the officer driving didn’t seem to care when Izuku smacked his head against the window with each turn. He could just use his stomach muscles to stay still, but he wanted to see the look on the other officers’ faces when he came in bruises. Although his mask would prevent most of it, there would still be indents for a while.

Izuku sighed to himself. How on earth did he get into this situation? Oh yeah, he was still sore from the USJ attack and was stupid.

Izuku waited until he heard Yamada’s snores from upstairs. He wondered if it was so loud because of his Quirk. Then he wondered how they never got noise complaints from neighbors. Maybe that was why Aizawa’s patrols ran so long.

Izuku did his routine of putting on his outfit and slipping out the window, leaving it cracked slightly. Then he took off in a random direction. As he ran, he couldn’t help but feel off. Like something was going to happen.

He shook it off as paranoia, seeing as how the last few nights had been relatively quiet. Nothing big had happened, just a few drunks and helping women home from their night shift.

He was roughly twenty minutes away from the house when it happened.

“Hey, you! Kumo!”

Oh.

So this was the something.

Izuku cursed at himself. He knew he should have listened to that feeling.

Death Arms and a sidekick stood a few feet away from the building Izuku was passing. What was a daylight hero doing out so late? And with a sidekick no less.

Izuku jumped right before a pair of arms tried to knock him down. Death Arms and his sidekick continued their pursuit. Izuku didn’t bother trying to defend himself. He knew he stood no chance against either of them. So he turned and bolted down the sidewalk.

He should have gone to the rooftops. They wouldn’t have been able to keep up with how Izuku maneuvered them. Perhaps the sewers, too. Death Arms wouldn’t have been able to slip down a manhole. He’d probably send his sidekick after Izuku.

But no. Izuku just had to stick with the ground.

He tried to use his webs to slow them down, but of course he just had to be found by one of the few heroes who could actually break out of them. Instead of trapping the heroes, he just left large, white spots on the concrete.

He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder. He tripped over his boots as he noticed one of them was missing. Where was the sidekick?

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear.

When he looked forward, Izuku smacked into a firm chest. He fell to the ground and nearly missed hitting his head. Large hands wrapped around his ankle, making Izuku unable to get up. The vigilante struggled against the sidekick’s grip, kicking and bending down to unwrap the fingers but that just caused it to tighten. He really shouldn’t be surprised that Death Arms’ sidekick was nearly as strong as the hero himself.

“Hopper,” Death Arms said, slowing to a walk and stopping in front of the two. The sidekick, Hopper, let go and immediately two hands pulled Izuku up. “Notify the police.”

The sidekick nodded and walked off a few feet to make the call.

With Hopper busy, Death Arms turned to the vigilante in his grasp. “I hope you know how much trouble you're in.”

Izuku lightly rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I didn’t realize taking a late night stroll was illegal. Must have missed when that law was passed.”

Death Arms scowled. “You know what I’m talking about. Illegal Quirk use, vigilantism.”

Izuku hummed. “We’ll see.”

Death Arms didn’t get the chance to respond as a police car pulled up in front of them. Izuku was quickly handcuffed and shoved into the back. He stared at the duo as the police officer drove away.

The precinct came into view shortly. Izuku startled, realizing just how close he was. No wonder he got caught so fast. Or maybe it was the leftover bruises from the Nomu. A mix of both, perhaps?

Izuku was forced out of the car. The officer that grabbed him held him tightly by the arm. Fingers dug into his skin, making the vigilante hiss.

“Not so hard,” Izuku barked, trying to wrench his arm away.

The officer just pulled back. Izuku stumbled. The two walked into the precinct. There weren’t many officers this late at night. The scent of coffee was everywhere. At first, they didn’t bat an eye about a cop bringing in a criminal, until they saw who it was. It wasn’t long before nearly every officer had their eyes trained on the duo.

Izuku internally sighed. Didn’t they have anything better to do?

He was led to a holding cell. The officer shoved him inside, shutting the door and letting an officer lock it. Izuku stumbled, but didn’t let himself fall over. He should have. That’d be great for a lawsuit when they inevitably found out he was a minor. He could see the headlines now: Minor threatened with police brutality. The headline wouldn’t be factual but, really, when was the media ever factual?

Instead, Izuku situated himself on the small bench on the other side of the cell. It was directly under a window. At least he got light.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait long, as two familiar faces appeared.

“Eraser!” he exclaimed, forcing the cheerful sound out even though deep down guilt covered every feeling he had. Eraserhead’s entire face was covered in bandages. “Tsukauchi! How wonderful you are to visit me in my lonely cell. Care to let me out?”

Tsukauchi sighed heavily, reaching to unlock the door. He motioned for Izuku to follow and started to walk away. Izuku happily followed. Eraserhead stayed behind him, making sure he didn’t run. Not like Izuku could. Well, he could. He could outrun all of the officers in the building. But then he’d show up at home with Quirk suppressing cuffs, and he didn’t think he’d have the strength or smarts to come up with a lie.

So, Izuku resigned himself to his fate. He turned around, staring at Eraserhead. “Shouldn’t you be resting? Those wounds must be awful.” He could practically feel Eraserhead’s glare beneath the bandages, and that urged him on. “Why are you here? Can’t exactly erase Quirks like that.”

“Don’t provoke him, Kumo,” Tsukauchi said, slowing to a stop. He readjusted the folder and notepad under his arm. “Just have a seat.”

Izuku moved in front of the detective, quipping, “Who are you, Chris Hanson?” The interrogation room wasn’t different than what he expected. There was just a wooden table with two chairs at either end. The window was double sided.

Before Izuku sat down, he turned towards the detective. “Could you please recuff my hands in front of me? My arms are starting to strain.”

Tsukauchi and Eraserhead shared a look. The detective nodded, and as soon as the cuffs were off Izuku saw Eraserhead activate his Quirk. The man probably shouldn't be doing that, but Izuku was in no position to tell a Pro Hero what to do. He could have made his move, but he didn’t know if Eraserhead could still use his capture weapon. The bandages wrapped around his head gave the smallest bit of sight for his eyes, but Izuku wasn’t sure how good that would do in battle.

Now that Izuku’s hands were comfortable, he sat down. Tsukauchi did the same. “Now,” Tsukauchi began, “before we start, I have to let you know that my Quirk tells me if you’re lying or not. As of right now, you are being charged with multiple accounts of first degree vigilantism.”

Izuku snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Good luck with that.”

Tsukauchi’s right eye twitched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Izuku sat up, “that at best I’m looking at a third degree charge, which can be settled with paying fines. And that’s if you don’t know all the facts. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

His right eye twitched again. Izuku’s gaze narrowed on it. Was that how the man’s Quirk worked? Right side twitching for every truth? Izuku supposed it made sense; left side for lying, right side for being right.

Tsukauchi looked down at the folder on the table. He flipped through it. “Every criminal and villain caught by you has been found with webbing encasing them. That sounds like the work of a Quirk.”

Izuku clicked his tongue. “Wrong. I’ll let you know that I haven’t used a single Quirk.” Right eye twitched. Good. Let them know the charges are wrong, but don’t let them narrow down suspects. 

The detective opened his notepad and began writing.

“I hope you know this interrogation is completely illegal,” Izuku said. “I don’t see my guardian present.”

Tsukauchi stopped scribbling on his notepad. “Guardian?” His eyes slid up to meet Izuku’s. “Just how old are you?”

Izuku hummed. He wanted to test something. “I am eight-years-old.” The detective’s left eye twitched. Bingo. His assessment was right. “Kidding. I’m not telling you my age.”

The detective sighed and wrote something down. “Did you purposefully lie?”

Izuku nodded, leaning forward and placing his cuffed hands on the table. “Wanted to know if I was right about your Quirk,” he explained. “It’s a really fascinating one. Although I bet you got bullied growing up. Kids probably thought you tattled all the time. They probably didn’t want to be friends or tell you anything in case you ratted them out. You know, if you wore sunglasses nobody would be able to tell. Although, you’ve probably already thought of that. Maybe your classmates forced you to wear them so the teachers wouldn’t know what the truth was.”

Izuku was aware he was muttering to himself now, but he couldn’t blame him. It was such an interesting Quirk. Did it work on half lies? What if the other person believed it to be the truth but it wasn’t?

He stopped himself mid-thought when he heard someone clearing their throat. He looked up and saw the detective close his notepad. He looked really pale, but it could have just been the lighting.

“Well, then,” Tsukauchi said, clearing his throat and standing up. “I suppose we have no actual reason to keep you here. Especially if what you say about your guardian is true.”

Ah right. Izuku’s eyes wandered over to Eraserhead. Technically he was his guardian, but not a legal one. If they wanted his legal guardian they’d have to conduct the interrogation in a cemetery. And Izuku didn’t think the spirits would be too happy about their space being invaded for a silly reason.

Although, instead of being set free, Tsukauchi turned to a blank page. “However,” he continued, “since we do have you here, I would like to ask a few questions about the attack at the USJ if that’s alright.”

Izuku sat in silence for a bit, mulling over the request. He shrugged. “Sure.”

Tsukauchi nodded and let his pen hover over the paper. “The group that attacked called themselves the League of Villains, were you aware of this?”

“I was under the impression that they were an organization, but I didn’t know what they were called.”

“It’s assumed that you had prior knowledge of the attack, considering the student who brought the other heroes saw you running towards the facility. How did you come across that information?”

Izuku bit his lip. “I was doing my patrol and since it was a quiet night I decided to travel a bit farther than usual. I saw a fairly large group of villains in one area, but couldn’t hear anything. So for a week I went back to the location and every time there was a new group of villains and criminals. It wasn’t until the night before that I got close enough to hear their plans.”

Tsukauchi wrote on his notepad. “And what was that?”

Izuku folded his hands in front of him and placed them on the table. “That there would be an attack at USJ and it was for the heroes.”

“If you had such crucial information, why didn’t you report it to the police?”

Izuku attempted to scratch the back of his neck. “At the time I didn’t know what the USJ was until I heard them mention heroes. Common sense told me it wasn't Universal Studios Japan, so I did my research. But I didn’t have the time or energy to report it. I also didn’t hear a time.”

“Could you elaborate on that?"

Izuku nodded. “It was nearly three in the morning and I had to wake up early, so I needed sleep. And since I didn’t have any proof, there was the chance my report could have been thrown out.”

Tsukauchi finished writing the information down and closed the notepad. “Alright, I suppose I should let you out.”

Izuku grinned under his mask as the detective walked around and undid the cuffs. Izuku flexed his wrists and stretched his fingers. “Thank you, detective. I’ll be on my way now.”

Izuku loved the way the other officers stopped their work and watched him march through the precinct. None of them made a move towards him, though, seeing as how neither the human lie detector nor pro hero made an attempt.

Izuku waved at them all, and relished in the cool breeze as he stepped outside.

                                                                   _______________

Shouta was a tired man who just wanted to go home to his husband and sleep. But no. That was apparently too much to ask the universe. Instead, he had to play bodyguard as Tsukauchi interrogated a vigilante.

Shouta watched with his arms crossed as the kid evaded the questions. He answered them, yet didn’t at the same time. That’s if you don’t have all the facts. What facts? What was the kid leaving out?

I haven’t used a single Quirk. What the hell did that even mean?

Were they really about to start from square one? It had taken them nearly two years to reach the point they were at, and all of that work was destroyed by just two sentences.

Shouta’s eyes didn’t leave the kid even after Kumo walked out the front door. He only looked away when he was out of his sight. He wanted to rub his face in irritation, but the bandages wrapped around tightly stopped him.

Tsukauchi sighed as he collapsed into his desk chair. He rubbed his left temple and stared at his computer monitor. “Those with spider Quirks we cleared are now back on the list,” he whispered. “But now so is every other child.”

“I think it’s safe to put the age range as anywhere between twelve and seventeen,” Shouta suggested. “He’s a minor but I don’t think anyone younger than that could pull this off for so long. Not without help, at least.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

The two bid each other goodnight, and Shouta left the building. When he was just a block away from his house, his phone began to ring. Without looking at the ID, he answered and held it up to his ear.

“Aizawa speaking.”

“Good evening, Aizawa-kun!”

Shouta nearly swore. It was Nezu. What did the rat-bear-dog-creature want so late?

“I hear you have been in contact with a certain vigilante,” the principal continued.

Shouta frowned the best he could. “How did you find that out?”

The rat chuckled, sending shivers up Shouta’s spine. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. Now, I have a proposal that will greatly benefit all of us.”

Chapter Text

Guilt was a strange feeling. It was nerve-wracking. It was ugly. It was. . . annoying as well.

Logically, Izuku knew he did the best he could to protect everyone during the USJ event. The students got out with only minimal bruising, if they got any at all. The facility stayed standing. No teachers were hurt.

Well. Not all of them.

Saying Izuku was surprised to see Aizawa walking through the front door covered in bandages was an understatement. From what Yamada had told him, Aizawa could have lost his sight if the fight went on any longer than it did. And if that didn’t send guilt shooting through Izuku’s veins.

Aizawa shouldn’t have gotten anywhere near that point.

Izuku internally cursed at himself. He should have done what detective Tsukauchi wondered, and contacted the police. Looking back on it, they probably would have believed him as Kumo. He could have spared a few minutes of sleep, and police could have gotten to U.A. or at least told them to cancel the trip.

If he hadn’t been so stupid none of it wouldn’t have happened. Kids wouldn’t have nearly died or even been exposed to the cruel realities of the world, Aizawa wouldn’t have been injured.

Speaking of Aizawa, even though he was practically a walking mummy at this point, it seemed like he could pinpoint Izuku’s location in the house at any given time. Even if Izuku walked as quietly as he could with fuzzy socks, the man’s head would spin around the moment he entered the room. It was a reflex from his patrol, and it wouldn’t be so unnerving if it wasn’t for one thing.

Aizawa.

Wouldn’t.

Stop.

Staring .

Sometimes he’d stare for a few seconds before going back to whatever he was doing before. Sometimes it was a few minutes. Sometimes he wouldn’t stop until Izuku had enough and left the room.

The boy wasn’t quite sure what the older man’s problem was. Yamada didn’t seem to have the same reaction. Maybe Aizawa was just lost in thought and Izuku just happened to be in the way.

No, that wasn’t it. He caught Aizawa’s head turning slightly whenever Izuku moved.

Izuku was currently pacing his room. He tossed and turned around every possible reason for Aizawa’s weird behavior and came up with nothing. Unless.

He turned his attention towards his desk. It stood empty except his recently refilled shooters and recently repaired mask. Mei really worked fast.

Izuku paused his pacing, eyes blowing wide into saucers. Wait.

The mask. The one that had been repaired. The one that broke during the attack. Izuku raced over to it and picked it up, examining it thoroughly.

Of course. No wonder Aizawa hadn’t straight up approached Izuku about it. He probably thought he had been imagining things due to the severe trauma. Shit. Either way, that wasn’t good. Aizawa heard his voice whether he knew it or not and that spilled trouble everywhere.

As much as he wanted to, Izuku couldn’t risk changing the sound of the voice that came from his mask when it was on. Not only would that overwork Mei, but Aizawa would definitely suspect something when he returned to his patrols.

Speaking of which, Izuku should head out on his own. It was getting late, everyone was asleep, and he had to get his mind off of the explosion it just had.

He quickly threw on his gear, not really caring if it was straight or backwards or whatever. He just needed to get out.

He slipped out of his open window and took off down the street. He wanted to spend as much time as possible patrolling now. Not just because Aizawa was out of commission, but ever since the USJ incident had been publicized (leaving out the names of students and injured hero, thankfully), villains and petty criminals have started popping up more.

It seemed like more criminals were crawling out of hiding ever since those villains had broken into U.A. property. Like they just assumed heroes would be slacking on their work. But it was quite the opposite. Heroes all over Japan had been working twice as hard, and security at schools, not just U.A., was increased. If anything, the criminals made their own lives ten times harder than they would’ve been if they had just stayed in the shadows.

Izuku leapt across a roof, turning into a roll to protect his apparently fragile bones. He really couldn’t afford anymore mistakes that turned into clues. He was lucky Aizawa hadn’t come to the conclusion of Kumo’s identity based on his return after his first injury. Or maybe he had and was waiting for more evidence before confronting the boy.

Which Izuku had been giving. This. Whole. Time.

He wanted to smash his head against a nice brick wall. The broken leg, the getting caught sneaking in, the broken mask. All those pieces were perfectly waiting for someone to snatch them up. And it was all Izuku’s fault.

Aizawa definitely knew now. Whether or not he’d tell the vigilante was another story. The man didn’t seem to be the type to wait around. He was all about timing and logic and no bullshit, which waiting was the complete opposite of.

But maybe he had to wait. That would explain why he never stopped staring. If he knew, then why waste all that time? Maybe Aizawa knew but there was nothing he could do. Kacchan would get like that sometimes whenever Izuku had accidentally got him in trouble with his mom. The looks he’d send would always have the same message: I’m waiting until we’re alone before beating your ass.

So maybe Aizawa had to wait for the police to gather evidence. Which probably wasn’t a lot. They just had some word-of-mouth and an interrogation that gave them basically nothing.

Izuku was safe for now, and he planned to keep it that way.

He also planned to break up what appeared to be a drunken fight he saw start by a closed convenience store.

                                                            _______________________

He should have seen that knife coming. He saw the man’s Quirk, and it turned his nails into daggers. What Izuku hadn’t known, however, was that they could be detached and thrown. And that the blades went deeper than what was shown. The assailant had left a nice slice down Izuku’s side, leaving the blade embedded in the skin.

Eventually he had knocked the guy out and webbed him to a streetlight. The officer on the phone had said an ambulance had been dispatched as well and would check him out, no police interference. Kumo would be free to leave.

But after that short crisis he had earlier that night, Izuku wasn’t taking any chances. While they didn’t have anything that could put him away, they’d no doubt still want his identity and if that happened he’d be ripped away from his stable housing.

So Izuku booked it the moment he heard sirens and saw lights. The blade was still lodged in his side, making the journey across the rooftops longer and more painful than it should be. But he needed to be far away before it got too much.

Eventually his vision started to blur and his legs started to wobble. He figured he was a good few blocks away, and let himself collapse. His breathing came out in short, labored puffs. He zipped open his newest addition to his costume, a fanny pack, and dug around for what he needed.

He figured it would be easier to carry spare vials and smoke bombs in there instead of worrying about them falling out of his pockets. Plus it gave him an excuse to carry snacks if nights went long.

He pulled out a sharp needle and a long piece of thread. He swallowed, watching as the moon’s light made the thin metal shine. He’d never given himself stitches before, never had to. First time for everything, he supposed.

He slowly lifted up his hoodie. The metallic smell of blood hit him like All Might’s Detroit Smash hit villains. He gagged slightly. It was hard to see the wound itself, but Izuku could clearly make out the blood oozing out around the blade.

Right.

He had to take that out.

He placed the needle between his teeth and went to grab the object inside him. He took three deep breaths, each one preparing him for the inevitable pain soon to come.

He was so focused on the task at hand that when the voice spoke out, Izuku jumped and yanked out the blade.

“What are you doing?”

Izuku bit down on the needle, muffled cries coming out. He let the blade drop from his hand. It landed on the concrete and was promptly consumed by the void that was nighttime.

Izuku looked up to the owner of the voice. He took the needle out of his mouth. “What are you doing here?” he asked, “you shouldn’t be running around with your injuries.”

Eraserhead glared. Or tried, if the slight crinkle of the top bandages were anything to go by. “I had to stop at the precinct for something, and what do I see collapse on a roof?”

Izuku turned his attention away from the hero. He began putting the thread through the needle. “Yeah, well you saw who it was. Can you go now?” The needle was right by the wound now. His hand shook.

Eraserhead walked over to the bleeding vigilante. He stopped and dropped to a crouch. He tilted his head and examined the wound. He sighed and pulled out his phone from his pocket, turning on the flashlight.

Without warning, the device was thrust into Izuku’s free hand. “Hold this.” Eraserhead plucked the needle out of the kid’s fingers. “Have you ever done this before?” Izuku shook his head. “It’ll hurt.”

No kidding , Izuku wanted to say, but his thoughts were stopped when the underground hero started the stitches. Izuku tensed up and bit his lip to keep his cries back.

“You’re a spider, right?” Eraserhead asked, and in Izuku’s pain-filled mind he realized the man was trying to distract him. “Don’t spiders heal super fast or something? Why don’t you do that?”

“It’s not that easy,” Izuku breathed out. The distraction was working slightly. It still hurt, of course, but he found himself relaxing.

“Because you’re Quirkless?”

And the tension was back. That was another piece of evidence for the files.

“Is that why you’re here? Getting information for Tsukauchi?”

Eraserhead was halfway done with the stitches. “I’m here for something else, but it doesn’t hurt to confirm my own suspicions.”

“And what would those be? Did you figure out my identity?” Please say no.

“You’ll either find out, or you won’t.” Eraserhead tied off the thread and used the discarded blade to cut the needle off. The hero seemed unsure of what to do with the metal, so Izuku just snatched it back and put it in his fanny pack. Wasn’t like it’d be used on anyone else, either.

Izuku lowered his hoodie and leaned back on the slightly raised roof ledge. He looked up at the sky, counting the stars. He heard shuffling and looked to his left, seeing Eraserhead doing the same thing.

“What are you doing?” Izuku asked, defense raising again.

Eraserhead turned his head slightly towards the vigilante. “Sitting down.”

“I hope you know you’re not in any shape to catch me if I run, right?” Although it wasn’t like Izuku could get far with his injury anyway.

The hero let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but Izuku didn’t say anything. “We both know I can and will catch up to you if I want to.”

Izuku pulled out a granola bar from his fanny pack. He had to get his strength up if he wanted to get down from this roof. “Is that why I’ve been able to run free for so long?”

Eraserhead was quiet for a few moments. “Anyway, I have a message for you-”

“-dodging the question absolutely confirms it, nice-”

“-Nezu wants to meet you.”

Izuku spat out his half-chewed granola bar, much to the disgust of the man next to him. “ Nezu ? As in principal of U.A. Nezu?”

Eraserhead nodded. “He didn’t say what for, just Saturday at 4 P.M.”

Izuku sat there, dumbfounded. Why on earth did Nezu want to meet with Kumo? Did he know? Of course he did, that creature was the most intelligent form of life on the planet!

The two sat in silence for a while. Izuku tried not to fidget so much. He didn’t want to give anymore clues about his identity and his mannerisms would definitely help.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Man that felt good to say. The guilt had been building up and it wasn’t like he could just say it in the house when he’d done nothing to warrant an apology. “If I had been faster, you wouldn’t have been injured. Hell, I should’ve reported it anyway! Even if it didn’t do anything, it still would have been in the system. It’s my fa-”

Eraserhead placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, stopping his rant. “I’m going to stop you there, kid. You did what you could, and none of it was your fault. You didn’t help them plan the attack.”

“But I-”

“-and I know for a fact that if you hadn’t been there, a student would have died or at least gotten seriously hurt-” Izuku’s mind flashed back to that hand reaching for the frog girl. “-and I could have very well died as well.”

Izuku sniffed. He could feel tears welling up behind his mask. The hand on his shoulder moved to the middle of his chest, forming a soft fist bump.

“You did good, kid.”

Izuku just stared at the hero. Tears had slipped past his mask.

“Right,” Eraserhead continued, moving to stand up, “well you have the information now. You should get going, it’s late.”

Izuku nodded and slowly stood up. He was about to head over to the ladder this building thankfully had to climb down, but a firm hand wrapped around his bicep, halting his steps.

“What are you doing?” he asked the hero, pulling his arm back.

“You could pull the stitches if you move. Just hold on to this.” Eraserhead tugged at his capture weapon.

Sighing, Izuku did as he was told. Eraserhead pulled off the scarf, and Izuku wrapped some of it around his wrists to prevent slipping. The sensation of being lowered was different than what he was used to. It was slower, for one, and the scarf pulled uncomfortably at his wrists.

When he was safely on the ground, Eraserhead turned and proceeded to head in the direction of his home after securing his capture weapon around his neck once again.

Izuku watched as the hero disappeared from sight. He sighed and leaned against the building’s door. He’d have to wait at least ten minutes before heading the same way.

                                                                    _____________________

Naomasa sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to get the sleep away from his eyes. It was eight in the morning and he was on his second cup of coffee. He was busy typing up a report when one of the interns knocked on the door of his office.

He waved them in, knowing they could see him from the window.

“Sir?” they said, moving over to Naomasa’s desk. “Have you seen this?” They placed their phone in front of the detective.

Displayed on the screen was a paused video, and in said video was Kumo. Naomasa knew of the Kumo Instagram account, it was hard not to with how it blew up. But a second hand video?

The intern pressed play, and the audio echoed.

A scream could be heard in the distance, and Kumo immediately turned towards it.

“ Wait!” the man recording called out as Kumo began to run. “ What’s your Quirk?”

Naomasa’s eyes widened. Kumo just wouldn’t give that out so easily, right? It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

But, in his rush to save whoever was in trouble, Kumo yelled back, “ I don’t have one! ”

And all of the dots connected in a flash. The I haven’t used a single Quirk, him saying the charge is actually 3rd degree at best. It all made sense.

Naomasa thanked the intern and scrambled to pull up the Quirk registry on his desktop. He clicked the file labeled Quirkless, and sorted it by age. Thousands of individuals came up, and the detective limited that to just Musutafu and the surrounding prefectures. It didn’t make sense to include those in Tokyo when Kumo had never ventured that way, after all.

The number lowered significantly, but it was still in the thousands. And if Naomasa wanted clear answers, he’d have to ask them himself. Who knew how long that would take.

He clicked on a file at random.

Name: Midoriya Izuku

Age: 15 years olds

Naomasa copied the listed address and pasted it into a search engine. It came up as an apartment complex. But. . . that address seemed familiar. A quick search came up with the results stating the complex had burned down years ago and there had only been on casualty.

A search on Midoriya Inko in the registry came up with her Quirk, old address, and status. Deceased .

Naomasa searched for Midoriya’s father, getting the result of one Midoriya Hisashi. He was alive, but his address was listed as the United States. Naomasa frowned. What kind of father doesn’t bring his child home after his mother dies?

The kid was technically an orphan. That had villain origin story written all over it. Or vigilante, in this case.

And wait a minute. Didn’t Aizawa briefly mention taking in some homeless kid after finding him with a broken leg?

That couldn’t be the same kid. Could it? What were the chances?

The detective leaned back in his chair, picking up his phone. Only one way to find out.

Despite it being so early in the morning, the underground hero answered quickly. “Aizawa speaking.”

Cutting right to it, Naomasa asked, “Do you happen to know a Midoriya Izuku?”

There was a brief pause. “What is this about, detective?” Aizawa asked.

Naomasa cleared his throat. “The Kumo case.” He heard the man inhale sharply. “I’m sure you’ve seen that video circulating around. I just wanted to ask a few questions.”

“He’s in class right now,” the man grumbled. “You can come over around 4.”

Naomasa nodded. “Understood. Thank you, Aizawa-san.”

The hero muttered something under his breath as Naomasa hung up.

It was 4:30 when Naomasa arrived at Aizawa’s house. He knocked on the front door and waited patiently. It seemed like the man had been waiting, as the door opened a few minutes after he knocked. The underground hero stepped aside and let the detective enter.

Naomasa slid off his shoes, and thanked Aizawa for letting him come over.

“He’s on the couch,” Aizawa said, leading the way. “Midoriya,” a head of green hair whipped over in the direction of the two adults, “Detective Tsukauchi would like to ask you some questions.”

Midoriya’s expression could only be described in that English phrase, “A deer in the headlights”. His eyes were wide, his skin looking a bit pale. The kid swallowed and set down the notebook he had in his hands.

“Of course,” Midoriya said in a shaky voice. “What for?”

Naomasa put his hands into his coat pockets in order to appear less threatening to the teenager. Being faced with any kind of authority at a young age was intimidating, no matter if you were innocent or not. He wanted Midoriya to feel safe in his own residence.

“I’m sure you’re aware of who Kumo is, right?”

Midoriya nodded slowly.

“You don’t have to be so tense, Midoriya,” Naomasa said calmly. “I’m just going to ask two questions. First, are you Quirkless?” The files said so, but there was always the rare instance of developing a Quirk late. However, the fact that they wouldn’t update the Quirk registry would have been weird.

Instead of calming down, the kid tensed up more as he replied, “Yes.”

Naomasa nodded, and stared Midoriya in the eyes as he asked the second question. “Are you the vigilante known as Kumo?”

The pause between them was suffocating. Midoriya met Naomasa’s gaze head on. The tension was broken when Midoriya let out a snort, which quickly fell into a laugh.

“ Me ? Kumo? In my dreams.”

Naomasa nodded, and accepted that answer. Except for one problem.

Both of his eyes twitched.

                                                       ____________________

It was always a weird feeling being at your school when nobody else was, no matter the situation. Parent-teacher meetings, weekend detention from discrimination, or meeting your current principal in your vigilante persona.

It was almost 4 P.M. and here he was, standing outside the U.A. gates in full gear. It was also broad daylight, meaning anyone could walk by and see him. Not that he minded, he had that Instagram after all, but the idea of people seeing him in public made him slightly uncomfortable.

Izuku took a deep breath. It was best not to keep Nezu waiting.

He took four steps past the gate when a figure stepped out of the school. A familiar head of long, dark purple hair was walking towards him. Izuku’s gaze lingered curiously on her as they approached each other. He moved to step out of her way and continue walking to the building, but she stopped in front of him.

“Hello, Midnight-san,” Izuku said. Just how many heroes were going to meet Kumo today, huh? “Heading home for the night?”

Midnight laughed. “Oh, please drop the formalities,” she said. “And no, I still have business in the school. Such as bringing you to Nezu’s office.”

Izuku waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

Midnight cocked her head to the side. “Well how else are you going to find it?”

Ah, good point. Kumo should have no idea how to find the office. It only made sense to have a guide. Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just gonna wander around until I did, honestly.”

Midnight laughed again and turned around, heading back to the building. Izuku hurried after her and slowed to a walk to match her pace. 

“You know,” Midnight started as they walked down the hallway, “I’m kind of glad you came into Eraserhead’s life. Makes it more exciting, and that man could use more excitement in his life.”

Izuku shuddered at the innuendo. He was well aware that the woman was just living up to her hero persona, but who made it alright for her to talk to children like that?

“I-I’m sure Eraserhead had plenty of excitement in his life before me,” he responded, holding his elbows with his hands.

The woman snickered, but didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk. When they arrived at Nezu’s office, Midnight knocked on the door and patted Izuku’s hood before leaving.

“Come in!” a voice chirped from inside. Izuku took a deep breath before opening the door. He closed the door behind him and looked up. The chair behind the desk spun around, revealing U.A.’s small principal. “Am I a dog? A mouse? A rat? All that matters is I’m the principal! And you’re Kumo!”

Izuku nodded. “Yes, sir.” He fidgeted with the end of his glove.

The principal grinned, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “Sit, sit! Would you like some tea while we talk?”

Izuku sat, and pointed at his mask which covered his entire face.

Nezu waved him off. “Silly me,” the creature proceeded to pour himself a cup of tea. Where he got the kettle, Izuku had no idea. “Force of habit, I offer it to everyone.” He sipped his cup. “Now then, I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to meet with you.”

Izuku nodded again. “Eraserhead didn’t go into any specifics.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell him. He’d claim it illogical.” The laugh that came out of the chimera’s mouth sent shivers down Izuku’s spine. “I’d like to offer you a deal, if you’d like to listen.”

Izuku was slightly curious, if not a little scared, but let him continue.

Nezu clapped his paws together, grinning wildly. “Great! I’ve prepared a test to show your skills. You’ll be fighting against four heroes chosen by me. Not all at once, of course. I’m giving you one week to prepare. Feel free to bring whatever support gear you want, but nothing lethal. This is a hero school, after all. Be by the gates by the same time next Saturday, we’ll be waiting. I’ll go into more detail when that day arrives should you show up. If you have no questions, you’re free to leave.”

Well now, that just made him even more curious. Izuku waited for the principal to explain what the test was for, but the short creature just tilted his head and stared with his beady eyes. The vigilante nodded and moved to stand up, but his curiosity got the best of him and he paused. “What exactly is the test for, Nezu-san?” 

The chimera laughed like it was the simplest question in the world. “Why, it’s your entrance exam of course!”

Oh, of course. That made sense. His entrance exam.

Wait.

His what?

Chapter Text

Izuku chewed on the end of his pen as he read over the math equations splayed out in front of him. His eyes flitted across the writing, but his mind didn’t register any of it. He kept going over the words principal Nezu had said.

“Why it’s your entrance exam, of course!”

Of course? Why phrase it like it was obvious? What is that chimera planning?

His thinking was interrupted by a foul taste spilling into his mouth. He dropped his pen and spat out the ink onto the table.

“You’re supposed to write with the pen, not eat it,” Shinsou drawled without looking up from his own papers. “Didn’t know math was so thought provoking.”

Izuku sighed and left to grab a tissue from the bathroom. He wiped whatever he could off and scrubbed the remaining ink with water. Once his hands were dry, he looked at the mirror. Ink was slowly drying on his mouth and chin.

He opened his mouth and saw the blue ink staining his teeth. Great.

It was ten minutes when Izuku finally exited the bathroom. Blue still stained his gums, but it was better than nothing. He took his spot at the table and fished through his backpack for another pen.

Shinsou had glanced at him once before returning to his work.

Izuku tried to resume his homework, but the offer still played on loop. He wanted to get into the hero course, yes, but as his vigilante persona? It was a given that he would have to go into underground heroics, and he wouldn’t mind that. But his vigilante persona was already getting popular, and he wasn’t sure how well that would go.

And there was the matter of hiding Kumo. If he made it in, he’d have to drop out of general education.

Izuku dropped his new pen and looked up at Shinsou. “If you were given a choice that would make your life better but you had to make a huge change, would you?”

Shinsou looked startled at being addressed, his pencil pausing briefly. “Depends on what it is.” His pencil resumed scribbling across the paper.

Izuku sighed. “Like if you were given the opportunity to do something you’ve wanted your whole life but you had to leave everything behind, would you?”

Shinsou put his pencil down. “Are you moving or something?”

Izuku shook his head, waving his hands in front of him. “No, no nothing like that! Completely hypothetical.”

Shinsou gave him a look that said he clearly didn’t believe him, but didn’t say anything about it. “Well, if there was a way for me to get into the hero course I’d sure take it. But I don’t know what your hypothetical situation is referring to.”

Izuku mulled it over in his mind, turning his answer around and inside and out. He nodded. “Thanks.”

                                                             _________________

And that was how Izuku found himself inside Mei’s warehouse for two hours. He had to give himself an alibi for when he went to the school and agreed to whatever Nezu had planned. Izuku had let her know what was going on, and the original plan was to get at least one thing that could counter each teacher, but given the short time frame that wasn’t possible.

So now he just stocked up on smoke bombs, extra vials, and a few pocket knives.

Mei was busy fastening the straps of a new pair of boots she was working on while Izuku sat on a cleared off table, sharpening one of the knives. Once the boots were on, Mei stood up and cleared her throat, bringing Izuku’s attention to her.

“Allow me to introduce my new spring boots!” she exclaimed, turning around to give a full view. The boots were the same black as Izuku’s current ones. The soles were thicker, though.

Mei began to explain the mechanics. Underneath the bottoms were large springs that would allow you to jump higher. To activate, there was a button on the outside of the boots that would cause the latch holding the springs back to unlock. The pressure from the springs staying in place would give more height when the wearer jumped. In order to stop, the wearer would have to press the buttons again while in the air so the latches would open. Once back on the floor, the springs would curl up again and the latches would close.

Or at least that was the idea.

Mei walked over to a wall with a post-it note and jumped normally. Then she bent down and pressed the buttons, preparing her next jump. However, when her feet left the ground, the springs slipped forward. She cried out as she fell backwards, landing on her butt.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked, hopping off the table and coming over to her.

Mei nodded. “That’s what these tests are for! Now help me get the springs in place.”

Izuku pocketed his knife and got down on his knees. Mei pressed the two buttons and they both pushed; Mei her feet, and Izuku on the springs. The two stood up.

“Maybe you need shorter springs,” Izuku suggested as the inventor wandered over to a table that was covered in notebooks and blueprints. “But make them thicker. Otherwise you’d need a lot of balance and precision in order not to land on them funny.”

Mei hummed as she examined a blueprint. She tapped her pencil against her bottom lip. “Where would I get that, though?”

Izuku shrugged. “Dagobah beach is always a good place.” He paused. “Although I think someone’s been cleaning that up so you’d have to hurry.”

Mei dropped her pencil and scurried over to one of the corners in the warehouse. She approached a pile of broken metal and parts that hadn’t been used yet and pushed them all to the side, uncovering a fairly large red wagon. She pulled it out of the corner, sending the parts tumbling to the floor.

“Come on, Izuku!” She exclaimed, heading towards the warehouse door. “You’re helping me collect things!”

                                                                     ___________

By the time Mei finally let him leave, he had only 15 minutes to get to U.A. Which wouldn’t have been bad if he was able to take the train. But one couldn’t really go out in public with a vigilante suit on, could they?

So he just treated the run across the rooftops as a warm-up. He even attempted a flip that didn’t go as bad as last time.

The first thing Izuku noticed when he arrived at the U.A. entrance gate was a giant block of grey concrete. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. It hadn’t been there the day before. Was that his test? What was inside?

He foolishly realized that he would find out soon. As he passed through the gate, he moved towards the block. It appeared to be at least four stories high. He walked around the entire thing, noting that there wasn’t a single door or hole that could be used to look inside.

“Hello, Kumo-kun!”

Izuku jumped and spun around, coming face to face with the U.A. principal. The creature grinned and clapped his paws together. “I’m sure you have many questions, so feel free to ask!”

Izuku stared at the principal before opening his mouth. “What is that?” He jerked his thumb at the block.

“That, Kumo, holds your exam! The heroes are already inside.”

The chimera explained the rules. Izuku had seven minutes for each floor and he had to either successfully take down his opponent or get to the end of the maze and press the buzzer. There were four floors and each floor had at least one hero. It would get harder as he went forward, and each maze was different.

Nezu refused to tell him what heroes were on which floor and instead just ushered him over to the block. The principal knocked a paw on the wall, and a rectangular shaped hole appeared.

The teen looked back at Nezu. “How will I-”

Nezu just grinned ominously. “Don’t worry about a thing, Kumo-kun!”

When Izuku stepped inside the maze, the hole behind him closed. He gulped and looked around. It wasn’t dark, perse, but the lighting could have been better. He supposed that was the point. Since Nezu himself set up everything, he must know about his Quirkless status and came to the conclusion that underground heroics were the way to go. And underground heroes work in the dark.

Lucky for him, Izuku thrived in the dark. Although he still had street lights so he was still at a disadvantage.

He walked forward as it was the only direction to go. When he got to the first path diversion, there were three possible ways for him to go; left, right, or continue straight. He opted for the left.

As he wandered, he took in every detail he could. The concrete walls had no divots or easily climbable edges, and the walls went all the way up to the ceiling so he had no chance of jumping across to the end.

Meaning unless he went the correct path everytime, he would be cornered. 

Every turn he got to he pressed himself up against the wall and peeked around the corner. Reaching multiple dead ends in a row made his nerves skyrocket. Just how complicated was this maze? Maybe it was constantly changing. Izuku wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.

It was also weird how he hadn’t run into this floor’s hero yet. Maybe they were placed on the other side. Maybe that was where the buzzer was.

Only one way to find out.

Minutes passed, and Izuku couldn’t tell if he was getting closer or farther away from his target. He turned a corner and was immediately blown into a wall.

“YEAAAAH!"

It took Izuku a few seconds to register what had just happened. He rubbed the back of his head and looked up. So he was the first opponent. Present Mic inhaled, the telltale sign that he was about to use his Quirk. Izuku was quick to dodge out of the way of the yell. He rolled and sprung up, ignoring the twinge as his stitches pulled.

The voice was loud, but nowhere near the volume used during villain fights. It still caused his ears to ring, but that could be brushed off.

Knowing Izuku had little-to-no chance of restraining Present Mic without going deaf, he formulated a plan. 

There was no way that the concrete walls Cementoss made would be able to stand multiple hits from Present Mic’s Quirk, no matter how thick they were. So all he needed to do was trick the pro hero into using it multiple times in a row.

Izuku looked down each path in front of him, acting as if he was trying to decide which way to go. But in actuality, he already knew which route he was taking and just needed an act to play up for Present Mic. He deliberately took the path that was a dead end, that way he had an excuse to go back. He didn’t need the voice hero catching on to his plan.

Lucky for him, Present Mic was still in the same pathway when he left. Once the hero saw him, he geared up for a smaller attack. Izuku could tell because the amount of air the man inhaled was quicker, so there wouldn’t be as much. He was probably going for a blast; less air and less volume in the attack, but the power behind it would be stronger.

And sure enough, Izuku was proven right. He fell into another roll. The pressure from the blast knocked him forward a bit, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Looking back at the wall, the vigilante saw that his plan was working. The wall was starting to crack, albeit not by much.

He would have continued with this plan if it weren’t for the overhead buzzer signaling that there were only three minutes remaining. If his earlier theory was true, then he had to somehow get behind Present Mic and go in the directions he had come from.

And he knew just how to do that. Izuku felt a smirk creeping up under his mask.

“Present Mic-san!” he yelled, pointing at the blond’s shoulder. “There’s a spider on you!”

He watched as Present Mic froze and turned his head dramatically slow. He must have seen a piece of fuzz from his costume, because he started screaming and slapping it away. It wasn’t much of a secret that Present Mic was afraid of bugs. All it took was a little digging. Or living with him, whatever your preferred method of research was.

With the hero distracted, Izuku was able to slip under the man’s legs and head down the path. However, before he turned the corner, he recalled the goals Nezu had said and decided against his current plan. Instead, he faced the hero and waited for the right timing.

He popped off both finger caps as he liked to call them on both gloves and waited until Present Mic was facing a wall. He didn’t want to let him get the chance to free himself with his Quirk, because Izuku was sure his webs wouldn’t stand against it.

Present Mic had seemed to calm himself down and was now looking around the ground. The moment his head was looking to the side, Izuku let his webs free. The hero squawked and struggled against the bindings.

Izuku fist-pumped the air as the timer rang out.

“ Present Mic,” Nezu’s voice called out from what Izuku could only assume was a hidden speaker, “ are you able to get out? ”

Izuku watched as the hero squirmed around before giving up. “Nope!”

“ Kumo clears the first round! Please make your way to the buzzer. ”

Izuku was just about to question that when all of a sudden the maze’s walls collapsed into the ground. A few feet in front of him was the buzzer. Izuku turned around when he heard Present Mic fall to the floor.

“Oh!” Izuku ran over to him and dropped to his knees. He took out his pocket knife and began sawing off whatever he could while the hero brushed the webs out of his hair.

“I should really make separate ones,” Izuku mumbled. “One for training and one for actual fighting. Maybe one that dissolves in water. How would that work, though?”

“That sure sounds like a good idea!” Present Mic chirped, grinning at the vigilante. “But you better get to the next floor.”

Izuku nodded. “Right!” He stood up and jogged over to the buzzer. He wondered how on earth he was supposed to get up to the next floor when the ceiling above opened up a small hole, and Izuku was lifted up by a rising pillar.

“Oh. That’s how.”

As he rose, he snuck a peak at his wound under his hoodie. It looked irritated, but none of the stitches looked like they were going to come out.

Taking a deep breath and faking confidence. Izuku stepped off the platform and started the next level.

Chapter Text

There were three things Izuku noticed as he walked down the path. The first thing was that there was only one direction he could go. There were no turns or even dead ends from what he could see. It was just one line. That thought both excited and terrified him. It would make finding the buzzer easier, but it also made him nervous about which hero was on this floor.

The second thing he noticed was that the paths were much larger than they were on the first floor. Izuku could actually spread his arms out and still have room between his hand and the wall. That would be useful when he eventually ran into the hero.

The third thing he noticed was that if he narrowed his gaze at the top of the walls, he could see small gaps. Just barely big enough to fit a finger through, but gaps nonetheless.

When he turned the first corner, he felt himself tense up. When it came to the first maze, there were so many paths that there was a slight chance that Izuku could have avoided Present Mic. But if there was only one path now, he had no choice but to face whoever was up ahead. He gulped and forced himself to push forward.

He could have ran just to give himself more time for the upcoming fight, but then he reasoned that he might be too out of breath by the time he got there. He had no idea how long this maze was. And given the gaps in the wall, he had a feeling he knew just exactly who he was facing.

He hadn’t seen any gaps between the wall and the floor, though. If his assumption about the hero was correct, then he’d have more time to reach her before her gas got to him. Gas rises faster, after all.

He also made his plan reach the buzzer because there was no way he could restrain Midnight before her gas made him fall asleep. Not without a filter in his mask, that was.

Eventually, he came to his first choice. Go forward or turn right. He went forward. Turned left. Dead end. When he turned around, he froze. Small, purple particles were inching towards him.

Midnight had found him.

He instantly held his breath and began running, this time going down the turn he hadn’t before. Midnight was at the end of the hall. As she walked, she pulled out her whip. It cracked through the air.

“Hello, hello Kumo,” she sing-songed, letting the whip drag along the ground. “Long time no see.”

Izuku ducked into the hall next to her, narrowly avoiding the whip. She laughed. “I love it when they run,” he heard her say.

He was in a large space. Each side had an opening. Shit. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his breath. If he didn’t find the buzzer soon, he’d be forced to inhale. Although. The gas hadn’t reached his chest yet. It was still spreading across the floor. He would inhale some, yes, but it wouldn’t be enough to put him to sleep. That was one of her weaknesses. She couldn’t control where it went.

Midnight grinned as he took short breaths. Izuku booked it down a hall when he felt her whip touch his back. He hadn’t meant to let her get that close. Another dead end.

When he got back into the large space, the gas had risen a lot. It was up to his torso now. Another crack of Midnight’s whip sent him down another hall. He internally cheered as the buzzer came into view. He reached out a hand. He was so close. Just a few more steps.

He gasped as he felt the whip twist around his wrist. Midnight pulled him back and delivered a swift kick to his stomach. Izuku was sent to the ground. The ground where the gas was. He held his breath, already starting to feel slightly woozy.

Izuku popped off his finger caps and aimed when a pair of heels came into view. He managed to get one of them, and that was enough for him. He scrambled to his feet and ran back down the hall. He could hear Midnight struggling behind him.

Izuku looked over his shoulder to see Midnight back on the hunt. Only this time, she was missing a heel. It would have been funny watching her move up and down so dramatically if he wasn’t on the verge of passing out.

The whip circled around him again. Izuku just yanked as hard as he could. It didn’t budge. He still grew closer to the buzzer.

He could feel himself slipping out of consciousness. No! You can’t. Not when you’re so close!

His fingers brushed against the plastic. He tried to find enough strength to push it. Before he could, though, his legs gave out from under him. He crumpled to the ground. He didn’t press it. He couldn’t. He didn’t even have the strength to stand for crying out loud!

He hit his head against the wall over and over. At this point, he should just inhale and fall asleep. That would beat the pain in his lungs.

“Kumo clears the second round! Midnight, please turn off your Quirk.”

Izuku’s head snapped up. Something fell next to him. It was a gas mask. He hurriedly took off his own mask to replace it with the gas mask. He inhaled, finally letting his lungs take a break. Realizing what he just did, he turned around. Midnight was facing the other way.

“What. . .” Was all he could say. He continued taking heavy gulps of air.

“You hit the buzzer with your head, kid,” the R-rated hero said.

“Huh?” Izuku looked at the wall, and sure enough the buzzer was right at head level.

When the gas cleared out, Izuku tossed the mask aside and grabbed his own. He refastened it and told Midnight she could turn around.

“Catch your breath before you move on.”

“Man,” Izuku sighed. “If it gets harder from here, I’m scared All Might will be the final room.”

Midnight just laughed. “Just you wait, kid.”

It took him a few minutes to fully catch his breath. If it had just been running, he would’ve been fine. But holding your breath at the same time? It was a wonder how he was still alive. Other than the heroes wouldn’t let that happen, of course.

His legs were still shaking when he finally stood up. As soon as his hand left the wall, an opening appeared above him. He waved goodbye to Midnight as a pillar started lifting him up.

He faked confidence when he started Midnight’s floor. But now that he had survived, he felt a new surge of courage flow through his tiny body. He could do this. He fist pumped the air before stepping off the platform.

Just like Midnight’s floor, there was only one way to go. Unlike Midnight’s floor, however, it led straight to an open space. An open space with three Ectoplasm clones.

Izuku cursed under his breath. He cursed again when the doorway behind him closed.

“The path will open once all clones have been defeated or restrained,” Nezu’s disembodied voice said. “Begin!”

The clone in the middle began the assault, running straight at Izuku. The vigilante dodged a kick aimed for his side. He eyed the other clones. Why weren’t they going after him?

The Ectoplasm clone swiped his leg, knocking Izuku down. The clone aimed another kick, but the teen was faster. He rolled up to the nape of his neck, and used both legs to get the clone right in the chest. The clone stumbled back before exploding into a pile of goo. Izuku wrinkled his nose in disgust, but didn’t have time to wait.

Soon enough another clone started for him. He easily dodged the kick, but he didn’t account for the other clone to get him in the back. Izuku flew across the room, gathering scrapes across his abdomen.

Lulled into a sense of security, I guess.

Izuku stood up but made no move. The clones stilled too, obviously waiting for him to make the next jab.

Quick, what did he know about Ectoplasm. He lost his legs during a fight and replaced them. He could spit out ectoplasm to create clones, hence the name. And his clones could either be defeated by Ectoplasm himself or if they took enough damage.

That first clone proved it, but Izuku wasn’t sure he wanted to get in that position again. That left him with. . . His knife. Nezu had said nothing lethal, so if the blade was just kept away from any vital areas he should be fine. They were clones anyway.

Izuku decided to reveal his plan when he got closer, and charged towards both clones. He was met with a series of kicks and flips.

He jumped behind the clones and reached into his back pocket. He had moved his knives to his belt instead of the fanny pack when he left Mei’s. The sound of a zipper probably would’ve given them a clue.

One knife in each hand, he didn’t wait for the clones to turn around. Instead, he just jammed the blades into the clones’ backs.

Izuku froze and let go of the knives when the clones spewed out ectoplasm. It looked too much like blood spilling out. The clones were soon piles of goo on the floor, leaving Izuku covered in it. The knives clanged to the ground.

He stared at the mess. He had witnessed blood of course, can’t be a vigilante without it. He had witnessed people dying, too. But he’d never been the cause of it. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to do that again.

“Five minutes remaining.”

Izuku snapped out of his thoughts, and knelt down to grab his weapons. Shaky hands gripped the handles. He wiped them off before pocketing them. After this was over, he was throwing the knives away.

There was a new opening on the other side of the room, which Izuku quickly followed. He wanted to vomit in the next space.

Three more Ectoplasm clones stood in the room. This time, they didn’t wait for the door to shut. They just ran at him. All three at once.

Izuku dodged and rolled and kicked and shot webbing. By the time he finished that room, he swore he would throw up if he ever saw ectoplasm again. The substance, not the hero.

The next door opened, and Izuku breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of no clones. Although he did tense back up when he saw who was there. Snipe stood in the center of the room, guns drawn.

Noticing Izuku’s hesitance at entering the room, the hero quickly said, “Don’t worry. These are BB-guns.”

That calmed him down a little, but getting hit with those pellets still hurt. Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? He’d already been kicked and thrown around concrete. Might as well add getting hit with plastic bullets to that list.

But wait. Didn’t Nezu say there would only be four heroes? Izuku supposed clones didn’t really count.

Once again, the door behind him closed up. Izuku wasn’t even given a moment to prepare before a pellet hit his stomach. His hand instinctively went to the source of pain. How could he fight a hero who never missed?

He was in the middle of attempting to dodge and failing when he remembered his fanny pack. He made note of where the buzzer was before unzipping it and pulling out three smoke bombs.

Snipe had to have the person in his field of vision. Couldn’t be in his field of vision if he couldn’t see anything at all!

Izuku threw the first smoke bomb on the ground. It gave him enough cover to move around, but not enough to get past the hero. Izuku willingly took another pellet to the side in order to get the smoke bomb near Snipe. The last smoke bomb went towards the buzzer.

With his path now laid out for him, Izuku bolted over to the buzzer. Another pellet collided with his skin right as he pushed it.

“Kumo passes the third round!”

“You okay, kid?” Snipe called as he put his guns away.

Izuku waved him off, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. He held his side, putting slight pressure to lessen the pain.

For the last time, a hole opened up above him and he was lifted up.

There were no walls when he stepped off the platform. Instead, there was just a pillar in the middle.

And All Might.

Oh god, he was fighting All Might.

Izuku gulped and took a few steps forward.

“Young Kumo!” All Might said, voice loud as always. “Congratulations on making it this far! Now, let us- hold on. Are you alright, Young Kumo?” The man gestured to his side.

Izuku looked down. He pressed a finger to his wound. It came back red.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured.

“We can stop if you’d like. I’m sure Nezu has more than enough video to go off of-“

“I’m fine!” Izuku yelled, surprised that he’d raised his voice at the number one hero. “I just. . . This is my only chance at getting into the hero course. I want to try.”

All Might rubbed the back of his neck, trademark grin appearing strained. “That is very admirable, however-“

The man was interrupted by Izuku aiming a fist at his face. All Might swiftly dodged.

All Might pushed his arm away, knocking Izuku off balance and sending him to the floor. Izuku pushed himself so his elbows held him up.

Yeah there was no way he was fighting All Might if a simple brush of his hand sent him flying. So where was that buzzer? It wasn’t on any of the walls. He had looked all over, even going over the walls three times.

The only thing in the room were the two people and that strange pillar.

If Present Mic could crack the walls, then All Might would definitely be able to destroy it.

Bingo.

And so Izuku resorted to just running around the room, trying to get All Might to hit the pillar. If the veins showing through his head were anything to go by, then All Might was definitely holding back.

Izuku would’ve gladly gone straight for the pillar, but he risked the chance of the hero catching on. He had to get him to lose focus first.

Nezu’s announcement came through, signaling there were three minutes left. Izuku took that as his queue to go for the pillar. He leaned against it, catching his breath. He had enough exercise for once in his life. His patrols weren’t as strenuous as this. He decided then and there that he wasn’t doing patrol that night. He needed a break.

Izuku blinked as his vision started to swim. His legs started shaking. He numbly looked down at the ground, seeing red ooze from the bottom of his pants.

Oh, it’s the blood loss, the vigilante thought before promptly passing out.

                                                                    _____________

There were whispers floating around him. He couldn’t make out what was being said. He tried to focus on them, but that only made the ringing worse.

His face scrunched up as he forced his eyes open. He squeezed them shut immediately. It was too bright.

A voice shushed the other one.

“There, there, dearie,” the first voice said softly. “You’ve been out for two hours.”

Izuku finally pried his eyes open. The light was still bright, but he pushed through it. He stared at the white ceiling. A monitor beeped. It took Izuku a while to realize it was his heart beat.

“Where?” was all he got out.

A short figure hopped up onto a stool. “You’re in U.A.’s infirmary.”

Izuku, decidingly ignorant to Recovery Girl’s warning, moved himself so he was sitting up. Realizing she probably lost the battle, she just decided to begin checking his vitals.

Izuku looked around the room. They were alone. Except for the big man sitting on the bed next to him.

“All Might?” Izuku asked. “What are you doing here?”

The hero cleared his throat. “I wanted to make sure you were alright, Young Kumo. I knew you were injured and I should have done a better job to stop you.”

Izuku shook his head. “That’s not your fault! I didn’t want to listen.”

“Doesn’t matter whose fault it is or isn’t,” Recovery Girl said, unstrapping the blood pressure cuff from Izuku’s arm. “What matters is that you rest now. I found one of Snipe’s pellets in your side, young man. Why didn’t you tell anyone that you had a serious injury?”

Izuku shrunk under her sharp gaze. “I.. I never got the chance.”

Recovery Girl huffed and shook her head. “Well, as long as you rest it will be fine. It’ll leave a scar, but you’ll live.” She gave him a gummy and shooed him off the bed.

Izuku slowly got off the bed. Recovery Girl gave one last kiss to his skin before walking over to her desk. With nothing left to do, the teen turned to leave.

“W-wait, Young Kumo!” All Might said, reaching an arm out. Izuku stopped, handing gripping the door handle. “Nezu stopped by while you were sleeping. He said to stop by tomorrow at noon to discuss the results.”

Izuku gulped and nodded. “Thanks.” He opened the door, but stopped before he stepped out. “Nobody, uh, they didn’t take my-”

“Your identity is still hidden,” the hero assured.

Izuku nodded again, bidding the man goodbye and stepping into the hall.

Chapter Text

Once again, Izuku, dressed in his gear, approached U.A. He had told Aizawa and Yamada that he was going to Mei’s to help test out new inventions. After assuring them that it would be safe, and yes, it was legal, they sent him off. To make his alibi stronger, he even sent her an image of himself acting like an invention had just blown up in his face. She would then photoshop any necessary details like dirt, bruises, clothing changes.

It might have been excessive, but it would be worth it. Couldn’t prove he was a vigilante if he had evidence his civilian persona was somewhere else!

As Izuku walked down the hallways, he pretended to take a few wrong turns before backtracking. Kumo has only visited the school once. It would be suspicious if he remembered exactly where to go.

He made it to the office, and before he could even raise his hand to knock, the door opened. He blinked. It was a little concerning that Nezu was starting to use his tricks on someone who wasn’t even enrolled or employed in the school. That raised so many questions, such as-

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Izuku was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of Nezu’s paws clapping together. “Sit, sit! That wound won’t heal by standing around.”

Izuku quickly sat down. The principal scooted his chair closer to the desk, placing a small stack of papers in front of him. “When we had our first meeting,” Nezu began, pouring himself a cup of tea before folding his paws on the desk, “I led you to believe this was your entrance exam. That wasn’t completely true.”

Izuku stilled. If it wasn't an entrance exam, then what was it? Was it just a trick? Maybe they were keeping the video footage (Izuku just knew Nezu had video footage) in order to send it to the Hero Commission. He wouldn’t be surprised. The Hero Commission didn’t like vigilantes, and the heroes that went after him were proof of that. Izuku had even run into the Pro Hero Hawks a few times during a patrol. The winged hero never seemed like he wanted to put an end to Kumo’s career, but the man had still had a job to do.

Nezu shook his head. “It’s nothing nefarious, trust me. I put together the test with the decision that you would have been permitted into the hero course no matter how many rounds you passed. Not only was the test just a formality, but I also needed to know which class to put you in.”

Izuku felt like he was going to pass out. He hadn’t failed? Nezu was saying that he, a Quirkless teenager, was about to be placed in U.A.’s most competitive course?

He couldn’t believe it. He was sure that him passing out during the last match would have hammered in any negative effects. What kind of hero would have let themselves just faint in the hands of the enemy? He could have at least tried to get to safety.

Although. . . All Might had given him the opportunity to call it off.

“. . . Mo?”

Izuku blinked. “Huh?”

“It seems you spaced out,” the chimera said, tilting his head. “I just asked why, for most of the fights, you decided to run instead of face them?”

Izuku paused. The comment on the tip of his tongue was, “ Because I don’t have a Quirk. I wouldn’t have been able to beat them ” but they both knew that was a lie. So he settled on, “Because knowing when to leave and get backup is an essential skill for heroes. You won’t always be able to defeat villains, so knowing your limits is key. Otherwise you’ll get killed.”

Nezu grinned. “Excellent! That answer further cements my decision for which class to put you in. I’ll get started on the transfer papers while you have your guardians fill out the drop out forms. That last part is just a formality.”

Izuku nodded, vaguely understanding what Nezu just said, and rose from his chair. He froze when the weight of Nezu’s words settled in his mind. “Transfer and drop out papers?”

Nezu sighed and took a sip of his tea. “I am going to be blunt. I know it’s you, Midoriya.”

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut as he sat back down. This couldn’t be happening. Nezu, arguably the smartest and most powerful creature on the planet, knew his identity. Izuku didn’t even want to think of what the chimera could do with that information. The Hero Commission wanted him gone, he was pretty sure the League was also after him, and who knows how many villains and groups wanted him dead too.

Logically, Izuku knew Nezu wasn’t going to give that out to villains. But the possibility was there.

Izuku gasped, clutching at his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe? Why was it so hot in this office?

He felt a weight on his legs and something pulling at his hands. He tried to fight whatever it was, but he was too busy trying to breathe that he just let it happen.

His hand turned cold as his skin touched the air. Then it was warm. Something was wrapped around his fingers. He flexed the joints. It was soft. His other hand was moved to something firm. It rose up and down, and Izuku found himself matching it with his breathing.

He moved his fingers again. Now that his brain wasn’t as foggy, he could clearly tell his hand was in a pile of fur. He blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes. Nezu stood on his thighs. Izuku’s hands were on the principal’s head and chest.

Nezu was staring at him, head tilted and concern filling those beady eyes. “Are you alright, Midoriya?”

That name sent a jolt of fear through his body, and Izuku played with Nezu’s fur a bit longer before responding. “Yes,” he whispered, dragging his hand off the principal.

Nezu nodded and hopped off. Once seated back in his chair, he said, “I don’t normally let humans touch me, but I have a soft spot for children. Panic attacks are a serious matter and there’s a grounding technique that involves touching soft things.”

Izuku was silent for a bit. “Thank you.”

Now that he had calmed down, the two went over the rest of the details. He would be allowed to wear either his vigilante suit or the U.A. uniform, both options kept the mask. However, Nezu said that the gloves would have to remain off except for hero training, no matter how many times Izuku explained the mechanics and that it wouldn’t go off during class.

Another part of the deal was that U.A. would pay the tuition and any fees Izuku had accumulated during his last two years. When questioned, Nezu just said, “You want to be a hero and the Hero Commission wants you off the streets. This pleases everyone.”

“However,” Nezu said, holding up a paw, “While I am giving you permission to continue your patrols, you cannot engage in anything that would require more than two heroes unless you can gather said heroes.”

Izuku was just glad he could still patrol. If it ever came to it, he could always get Aizawa to help him. The second hero, though. . . That could be a problem.

“So no drug rings or things like that?” Izuku asked, wanting clarification.

“Nothing you haven’t done before.”

The teen nodded, filing that sentence away in his mind.

The meeting went on for another few minutes, Nezu going over information and Izuku asking questions. Eventually, the time turned to 12:30 and the meeting ended. Nezu said that since the meeting was scheduled for noon, he had Lunch Rush prepare him something to take home. Izuku wanted to decline, but the meal was already made and Nezu insisted.

So, now armed with a wrapped up bento, Izuku left the building and headed to Mei’s. He wanted his alibi to have some credibility.

                                                                  _______________

That night after dinner, while Yamada was loading the dishwasher and Aizawa was grading papers, Izuku approached them.

He waited for both of them to acknowledge him before speaking. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. “I want to drop out of U.A.”

Silence.

He cracked an eye open, looking between both heroes. Yamada had frozen in his place, arm extending to grab another dirty plate. Aizawa hadn’t stopped his grading, but his legs had moved towards the young boy, showing that he was indeed listening.

“Why?” Yamada asked, finally straightening up. He wiped his wet hand on his pants.

Izuku paused. He hadn’t thought that far. “W-well, I just. . . I- the people are overwhelming. I did online for years and being around people just gets to me. And I can’t really go at my own pace.”

He wasn’t lying, not really. In an actual school he had due dates whereas online, as long as he just turned in assignments before the tests he was fine. The people weren’t overwhelming, but they also weren’t as bad as junior high. At least the students at U.A. didn’t know he was Quirkless, sans Mei and Shinsou.

If Izuku wasn’t focused, he would have missed the look Aizawa sent Yamada. Oh shit. Yamada had been one of his opponents. How did that slip his mind? Aizawa was already suspicious, and the fact that Izuku asked to drop out of general education right after Kumo’s entrance exam would raise all the red flags.

“Nezu-san actually already did everything,” Izuku continued, trying to ignore the tension that was now in the room. “You just need to fill out the papers as a formality.”

“Alright,” Aizawa replied. He had moved his legs back to under the table. “I’ll do that tomorrow. I’m assuming you have everything figured out with your online school?”

Izuku hummed a yes, and the conversation was dropped. Wanting to avoid any more questioning glances, he hiked it to his room. He felt his phone buzz after he closed the door.

Fishing it out, he saw it was just Mei updating him on a new baby she made in class. Friday, Power Loader had ended up kicking her out of the lab after school so she just snuck in and stole her blueprints to take home. Was it stealing if it belonged to you? He didn’t know.

                                                                    _________________

When Izuku got to the kitchen the next morning, still in his pajamas, he spotted Aizawa sitting at the table. He finished up what he was writing before capping his pen and handing him the sheet of paper. Izuku scanned the sheet. It was his drop out form.

“Why aren’t you turning it in?” He asked, setting it down and heading to the fridge.

“As an underground hero, my address isn’t listed anywhere. As the unofficial ward of a hero, you don’t have an address in your files for your protection.”

Izuku poured himself a glass of water. “That doesn’t really answer my question. Doesn’t he already know?”

The glare Aizawa sent him caused Izuku to stifle his laughter. The man probably just doesn’t want to go to the school sooner than he has to.

“If you want to get there before the others,” Aizawa said instead, “you better go now.”

Izuku nodded and quickly finished his water before heading back to his room. He didn’t really want to get dressed, but he felt like it wouldn’t be acceptable for him to show up at Nezu’s office in old shorts and a shirt that said T-Shirt . He left the shirt on, but pulled on a pair of jeans.

Aizawa was still sipping his coffee at the table when Izuku grabbed the paper. He said goodbye to the older man, who just grunted in response.

The original plan was to just slide the form under Nezu’s door and flee, but right as he bent down to do so, the door flew open.

Izuku stood straight up and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. The door closed behind him when he entered the room.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of tea you like,” Nezu said, pouring two cups, “so I picked out jasmine.”

“Thank you.” Izuku took a seat and grabbed the teacup Nezu pushed his way. He sipped it and hummed in appreciation. He didn’t drink tea too often so he was surprised to find himself enjoying the slight floral taste.

Setting his cup down, Izuku placed the paper on the desk, sliding it over to the principal.

He grinned as beady eyes ran down the form. “So Aizawa-kun is looking after you. I was wondering why there wasn’t an address listed. I wonder how that works, with you being Kumo and all. Thank you, Midoriya-kun. Everything should be ready by tonight and you’ll be all set to begin the hero course tomorrow!”

Izuku bowed the best he could in his chair. “Thank you so much, sir. I promise you won’t regret it!”

Filing the form away, Nezu turned to face the teen. “I’m sure I won’t. I expect you to bring a Plus Ultra energy tomorrow.”

After that dismissal, Izuku finished his tea, bowed one more time, and exited the office. He made it to the school’s front gate when his phone buzzed. Checking it, he felt himself pale. It was a text from Shinsou asking where he was since class would have started by now.

Shit. Might as well.

He shot a really cryptic text back telling Shinsou to meet him by the gates after school.

And so he came back at 3:30, watching the swarm of students exit the school. Izuku hugged his arms to his chest. He really hoped Shinsou was near the front. He didn’t exactly tell Aizawa and Yamada he was bringing someone over.

Seeing the familiar purple hair, Izuku reached out and latched his hand around the boy’s arm. Shinsou appeared too shocked to say anything, even as the minutes ticked by.

They soon got to the house. Izuku kicked off his shoes while Shinsou calmly untied his. Izuku motioned for Shinsou to follow him. Izuku opened his bedroom door and gestured for the other boy to take a seat.

Shinsou slowly sat on the bed. His expression was the usual bored, but the way he kept slightly moving proved otherwise. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Izuku started pacing, arms still to his chest. “I’m not sure how to say this. I just. . . What if you hate me?”

Shinsou snorted. “Not possible. Just be honest.”

Izuku stopped in front of his bed. Be honest. Alright. He wanted honesty. Izuku had been leaning towards just saying he was moving, but this was fine.

He pushed up the blanket that was draped over the side, revealing a box. A box that kept his biggest secret ever.

It was now or never.

Sitting on his knees, Izuku made his choice.

He pulled the box out.

Chapter Text

People stared at him as he walked through the gate. They weren’t looks of disgust or hate like they were back at Aldera. No, they were looks of disbelief, confusion. Wonder. He understood why.

He had just walked through the gate wearing his Kumo mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize why so many heads turned. It wasn’t everyday that a vigilante showed up to your school.

Instead of focusing on the stares, Izuku paused his trek and took off his backpack. He had bought a new one when he found out about his enrollment. He had also bought a beanie in order to hide his hair. He almost didn’t, until he remembered just what color his hair was and who he lived with. It was against the dress code to wear hats, but if anyone gave him problems he’d just say it was a new addition to his costume and that Nezu said he could wear it.

He set the backpack on the ground as he rummaged through it. Finding what he was looking for, he took out his phone from his uniform pocket and hooked it up. Selfie-stick now extended, he angled it so the camera got his uniform. He held up a peace sign and snapped a picture.

Selfie-stick back in the backpack, he quickly pulled up his Kumo account and captioned the image, “guess where I’m at :)” . He powered down the device, feeling like the post would blow up any minute.

Once the backpack was back on, Izuku continued his walk. Instead of going to a classroom, he made his way to the teacher’s lounge. Nezu forgot to tell him which hero class he was going to be in. Although knowing Nezu, the small principal most likely didn’t forget and wanted to surprise him. There were only two first year hero classes, and Izuku had a feeling he knew which one he had been placed in.

But instead of assuming, he wanted to get a confirmation. It wouldn’t make a good impression if he walked in and sat down in the wrong room. So he knocked on the teacher’s lounge door and without waiting for an answer, he opened it and stepped inside. Most of the desks were empty, except for Midnight’s. He waved at her when they made eye contact.

“What brings you here?” she asked as she resumed typing on her computer.

“Nezu-san never told me which class I was in.”

Midnight hummed. “Well, have a seat and I can try to find that for you.”

Izuku bowed in thanks and moved to the front of one of the two large couches. He frowned when he sat down. The couch was sort of lumpy, and why did the cushions make noise when it’s not a leather couch?

When Izuku looked down at the furniture, he squawked and fell off. He landed on his butt, holding his elbows out to prop himself up. A familiar yellow sleeping bag was taking up the entire space.

He heard Midnight let out a cackle at his predicament. Izuku watched as the sleeping bag shifted until it sat up. Aizawa glared down at the boy on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but Midnight beat him to it. “Say hello to your new student!”

Ah, of course. It made sense that Nezu put him in 1-A.

The man groaned and muttered something about a phone call. He unzipped himself from the sleeping bag and let it drop on the couch. Izuku winced as Aizawa’s joints cracked when he stood up. “Head to class, then. If you’re not there when I get there, you’re late.”

Izuku nodded and quickly bowed to both heroes. He sped out of the room and down the hall. Other students pointed and stared as he moved around them. He soon came to two pairs of doors. One was labeled 1-B, and the other 1-A. He could hear the voices of other students inside.

His grip on his backpack straps tighten as he hyped himself up. He wasn’t sure what to expect. These were hero students, their opinions on vigilantes were probably negative. Either way, he didn’t have time to dwell on that. He could hear Aizawa’s footsteps down the hall.

He slid open the door and stepped inside. The students immediately quieted down. Izuku gulped as the pairs of eyes landed on him. He gave a small wave. Soon, the voices broke out, louder this time. Questions were thrown at him.

“Whoa, a vigilante?” came the kid with electric yellow hair—Kaminari, if Izuku remembered. That kid who fried his brain at the USJ.

“What’s a vigilante doing here?” asked the spiky red head.

“Is it a training exercise?” wondered the frog-like girl. Izuku also remembered her. She helped him carry Aizawa up the USJ stairs.

A student with dark blue hair stood up from his desk. While swinging his arms in a chopping motion, he said, “I’m sure Aizawa-sensei and the other teachers know what they’re doing. They wouldn’t let in a criminal unless they had a purpose.”

Izuku bristled at that comment and was about to make a retort when a deep voice from behind him said, “This criminal is your new classmate.” Izuku moved out of the way to let Aizawa into the classroom. “No matter the crimes he may or may not have committed, you will still give him the same respect as everyone else. Now sit down. Kumo, you’re behind Bakugou.”

Well, wasn’t that pleasant? Izuku pretended to scan the room, but he knew full well who that was. Still, it felt like ice had been poured down his back when his eyes landed on that spiky blond head. Kacchan was in the front row, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand and looking out the window. Izuku was sure that if he saw his face, it would be scowling.

“You’ll have time to ask him questions after school. But no personal ones,” Aizawa emphasized as he passed by the podium. “A vigilante’s identity, and an underground hero’s for that matter, are extremely valuable and cannot be revealed to the public.”

The students mumbled in agreement. Izuku slipped into the seat behind Kacchan. He couldn’t help but hunch over and look at the ground. If anyone saw him--and let’s face it, most of them probably did--hopefully they just assumed he was nervous.

As the classes went by, Izuku grew more and more uncomfortable with all the side glances and out-right staring he received. He understood their curiosity, but this was just too much. Was this how actual heroes felt? He dreaded the moment the bell for lunch rang.

And when that moment came, he was immediately swarmed by most of the class. There were a few who stayed behind or left to get lunch; that red and white haired boy, the girl with black hair in a ponytail—Yaoyorozu if his memory was correct—for example.

“I follow your Instagram!” the girl with the pink skin exclaimed, leaning on Izuku’s desk.

“What’s the worst fight you’ve been in?” that Kaminari kid asked.

“Who’s the hottest chick you’ve seen on patrols?” a short boy with balls on his head asked. Everyone turned to stare at the purple haired (was it hair?) boy.

“Your mom,” Izuku snapped quickly, because he really did not want to think about that and the question grossed him out. Most of the time when he saved girls, they were either about to or in the process of being violated and no amount of therapy could erase the sounds of screams and grunts of pleasure or the images of seeing bare skin just laying there from his mind.

The purple boy looked offended and opened his mouth to say something, when small explosions came from the desk in front of them. Everyone stopped talking and flinched away, revealing the source. Kacchan stood up from his desk, pushing the chair back so hard it slammed into Izuku’s own desk.

“Stop crowding the damn desks and let me leave!” He pushed past everyone.

With all that attention on Kacchan, Izuku took the chance to duck under his desk and crawl through the students’ legs. By the time they turned back to the desk, it was empty and Izuku was speeding down the hall. He passed Kacchan and sent him a nod in thanks. The blond just made a ‘tch’ sound and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Izuku continued down the hall, thankful that most of the students were already in the cafeteria. He made eye contact with a few of the lingering teens, and nearly tripped over his feet when his gaze landed on Shinsou. The tired boy didn’t seem to notice him, too focused on the phone in his hand.

Izuku cursed. He hadn’t returned any texts since yesterday. Shinsou was probably worried. He thought back to last night, wondering if he should have done that.

Izuku pulled out the box. Shinsou looked down at it, tilting his head in a silent question. Izuku gulped, preparing to open the box. The clasps were undone. All he had to do was lift the lid. His hands shook even as he gripped the sides.

He got it halfway open when a noise made them jump. “Midoriya!” the familiar voice of Yamada called out. “We’re home!”

Startled, Izuku slammed the lid shut and shoved the box back under his bed. “I’m going back to online school!” he blurted out, grabbing Shinsou by the arm and shoving him towards the window. “But now you have to go!”

Shinsou let himself be hauled out the window. He adjusted his balance on the landing and brushed the dirt off his uniform shirt. The stare he gave Izuku said there was no way he believed him, but Izuku shut the window before he could ask anything.

“Midoriya,” came Aizawa’s tired voice from the hallway, “who’s shoes are by the door?”

Oh well. Wasn’t like he could just grab Shinsou by the arm, drag him to the bathroom, and reveal himself that way.

So Izuku pushed that concern out of his mind for now and grabbed a lunch tray from Lunch Rush. He scanned the room, looking for an empty table. Luckily, he found one near the exit and decided to make his home there. He felt the eyes as he walked passed everyone. He tried to ignore it. He knew it was curiosity, but he couldn’t help but picture Aldera. The stares as he tried to find a table, the whispers and laughs when he had no choice but to eat lunch in the classroom again. The feeling was all too similar and he hated it.

He relaxed when he sat down and was finally out of any prying eyes. He picked up his chopsticks and grabbed some of the udon noodles in his bowl. He was halfway to his mouth when he realized the problem. How was he supposed to eat with his mask on?

He sighed, letting the noodles slip from their hold and plop back into the broth.

“Hi!” a cheerful voice said from in front of him. Izuku looked up from his bowl and nearly dropped his chopsticks when he saw two people standing by the table. One was a girl with short, brown hair, and the other was the robotic boy who called him a criminal earlier. Which, although technically true, still hurt to hear. “Can we sit here?”

Izuku nodded dumbly, mind still trying to process the fact that a girl--a girl! --aside from Mei was talking to him.

The girl grinned and slid into the seat across from him, the robotic boy following suit. The blue haired kid looked uncomfortable, but given his earlier comment Izuku assumed why.

“I’m Uraraka,” she said. “That’s Iida-kun, he’s the class rep.”

“Nice to meet you,” Izuku said. He winced when his voice still managed to crack even with the voice modulator.

The two teens in front of him started a conversation. It was about the upcoming sports festival. Izuku completely forgot about that. That is in what. . . two weeks? He wondered if he would have to participate and then came to the conclusion that yes he would. He was a U.A. student, and U.A. students were in the U.A. sports festival unless they had a reason.

He then wondered if being a vigilante would be a good enough reason. He didn’t really want all that attention ( you hypocrite, why make the social media page if you didn’t want attention?). Vigilantes were supposed to stay relatively unknown. Having cameras shoved into your face and trained on your every move wasn’t exactly the definition of discrete.

He’d have to ask Aizawa about it.

He had been too busy focusing on the sports festival dilemma that he didn’t even hear the conversation stop.

“Kumo?” Uraraka asked. “Is everything alright? You’ve been staring at your tray for the last few minutes.”

Izuku blinked, finally glancing up from said tray.

“It is important to eat three meals a day,” Iida cut in, left arm splicing through the air. “Lunch Rush’s meals are high in nutrients, so you must make sure to eat as much as you can.”

Izuku let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t really eat without taking off my mask.”

Both Uraraka and Iida nodded, clearly remembering Aizawa’s earlier statement on identity.

“What if you just slid it up so only your mouth shows?” Uraraka suggested.

Izuku wanted to slap himself. Why didn’t he think of that? The only problem was. . .

“Can one of you hold your hand against it while I undo the straps?” he asked. “It’ll fall off otherwise.”

The two hero students shared a look. Iida looked conflicted, but Uraraka just shrugged and pressed her palm against Izuku’s face. The next minute was very uncomfortable. Izuku’s hands shook as he slipped his fingers underneath the beanie and pressed them against the sensors. When he felt the straps loosen, he replaced Uraraka’s hand with his own.

Would the modulator still work even if the mask wasn’t hooked up? Not wanting to chance it, he just raised his other hand and gave her a thumbs up as thanks. She smiled and continued eating her lunch.

He appreciated the fact that both of them still looked away whenever he slid the mask up to take a bite.

When lunch ended, Uraraka put her hand back on the mask while Izuku rehooked the straps. He was able to verbally thank her after making sure the mask was on.

The three of them ended up down the hall together.

“Why are you wearing the hat?” Uraraka asked, holding her hands behind her back.

“It hides my hair,” Izukue answered.

“Is there a particular reason you are disobeying the school’s dress code?” Iida asked. Uraraka snorted at his seriousness.

“Nezu said I can choose to wear my suit or the uniform,” the vigilante explained. “The hat is a new addition since hoods aren’t always reliable.”

Iida looked conflicted. He clearly didn’t like that the rules were being broken, but he let it drop.

Uraraka tilted her head. “Why are you wearing a mix, then?”

“I don’t want to be stuck in sweaty clothes all day.” He laughed as Uraraka wrinkled her nose. “Hey, where are we going?” The green haired teen just realized they weren’t heading to the classroom.

“The locker rooms!” Uraraka announced. “We have the hero classes after lunch.”

“Were you not given a schedule?” Iida asked.

Izuku shook his head. “Me being enrolled was sort of a last minute thing.” Speaking of which. “I’ll meet up with you guys. I need to go ask about my costume.”

“But you don’t even know where we’re going after!” Iida called as Izuku turned and headed for the teacher’s lounge.

Izuu waved him off. “I’m sure I’ll find out!”

He arrived at the teacher’s lounge. He hoped this would be the last time he needed to go there. He knocked on the door. There was a wet sounding cough from the other side. He almost opened the door to check on whoever that was, but he didn’t have to.

The door slid open and Aizawa stepped out. He closed the door before Izuku could peek around him. Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

“I had a question about my costume,” Izuku said, jogging slightly to catch up with Aizawa’s long strides.

“Power-Loader should have put your case in the locker room. If it’s not there just wear the gym uniform and let me know.”

That raised even more questions. Did they have someone recreate his costume? He hoped they didn’t change the design. He liked the spider on the front.

Aizawa led him to the locker rooms. Izuku thanked him and hurried inside the boy’s locker room. Various conversations hit his ears. A few heads turned as he walked passed, but nobody bombarded him with questions. Kacchan must have knocked some sense into them with those explosions.

He wasn’t sure where to go until he spotted a silver, metal case leaning against one of the lockers. On the top was a post-it note labeled Kumo in familiar handwriting. Izuku grabbed the case and decided to change in one of the stalls. If the handwriting was a certain girl’s, then he knew he’d have to take his mask off in order to fully look at everything.

He locked himself in the closest stall and immediately threw off his beanie and unhooked his mask. He unlatched the case and opened it. There was another note.

“Hey hey vigilante! You should have told me you made it in! Anyway I finally got the chance to upgrade your base costume. I kept the design on the hoodie, but the material is more form fitting. That hoodie of yours always has the chance to get caught on something. I took liberties to look at your classmates’ Quirks. Your new suit is flame proof and waterproof. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a way to make it electricity proof. The pants are looser than the top in order for you to move better. Gloves are the same, I put in a fanny pack that holds extra vials. You know how to make your own so you’re good to go!

P.S. I’m making you test out my dangerous babies to make up for not letting me know.

-Hatsume Mei”

Izuku sighed, setting the note down. She didn’t mention the boots, so he assumed she didn’t change anything.

He was suddenly aware of the lack of conversation in the room. He quickly stripped himself from his uniform and threw on the suit. The top felt like a looser version of spandex. It zipped up in the back. The pants felt like swimsuit material. He slipped on the fanny pack and checked to make sure the vials were there.

He decided to leave the case in the stall since he’d just go back there after class. He crumpled up and threw away Mei’s note as he headed out of the locker room. Luckily, he was able to spot one of his classmates heading down the hallway.

Time to go plus ultra, he thought as he jogged to catch up.

Chapter Text

Izuku wiped the sweat from his forehead as he dodged another fist aimed at his face. He straightened up before delivering a quick kick to the back of his partner’s leg, sending him to the ground. Sero rolled away and bounced up before Izuku could do anything else.

The class had been switching between sparring partners for nearly the entire class period with each match lasting about five minutes. Aizawa told them to keep going until either one partner was restrained, too tired to continue, or there was a serious injury.

For the past two weeks, the heroics class had been dedicated to preparing for the sports festival. When Izuku had finally gotten around to asking Aizawa about his concerns, the man told him he would be participating. It was illogical to hinder internship opportunities just because of legalities, he claimed.

Izuku let out a gasp when tape wrapped around his leg and pulled, knocking him down. Sero yanked the vigilante over to him, preparing what Izuku assumed was a finishing blow, but Izuku wasn’t about to let that happen.

He pulled his knees to his chest and bunny kicked, making sure to aim high. His boots collided with Sero’s chin. It was a bit lower than Izuku hoped, but it did the trick. He winced when an audible crack sounded. Sero stumbled back, one hand gripping his jaw.

Taking advantage of the boy’s stunned expression, Izuku whipped out his pocket knife and sliced the tape around his foot. He stood up and without waiting, gave a side kick to the bottom of Sero’s sternum. Wheezing, the black haired boy fell down.

Izuku aimed his wrists at Sero’s legs and quickly shot out webbing. He watched as Sero attempted to free his legs, only to sigh and give up.

“Do you give up?” Izuku asked, preparing to kneel down and cut Sero out of the webs. Sero nodded and continued to cradle his jaw, which Izuku could see had begun to swell. Izuku carefully cut around the webbing, trying to get as much off the skin as he could.

Aizawa approached the pair. He knelt down to look at Sero’s jaw. The student winced when the teacher’s fingers gently poked and prodded. “Class is almost over. Go head to Recovery Girl.

Now free, Sero nodded and scrambled to stand. Still holding his jaw, he scurried out of the gym. After the student left, Aizawa sighed and faced Izuku, striking him with a glare.

“You’re a skilled fighter, Kumo,” he said, “but you need to know when to hold back. Sero’s a student, not a villain on the street. Head injuries are a serious thing, especially if the head has nowhere to go.” His expression darkened a bit before returning to its usual bored look.

Izuku gulped. He let his head hang. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Sero whenever he returns. Now go to the locker rooms with the rest of your class.”

Izuku nodded and hurried after the students that were exiting the gym. He locked himself in a stall and changed quickly. There were still a few students in the locker rooms when he left. He exited the locker room the same time Uraraka left the girl’s locker room.

She smiled and bounced over to him. “How were your spars, Kumo?” she asked, placing her arms behind her back and rocking on her heels.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I broke Sero’s jaw.”

Uraraka’s eyes widened. “Is he okay?”

Izuku shrugged. “Aizawa-sensei sent him to Recovery Girl so he should be. But he said I need to be more careful.”

“That makes sense. But as a vigilante you’re used to fighting hard! I’m sure Sero will forgive you.”

Izuku sighed. “That’s not really what I’m worried about.” Uraraka tilted her head. “I don’t think that kind of behavior will fly at the sports festival.”

                                                                      ____________

The sports festival came and went. Despite his initial worries, Izuku ended up enjoying it. It was fun seeing all his classmates use the skills they’ve learned so far. He particularly liked Uraraka and Kacchan’s fight in the 3rd round. If she had tired Kacchan out more, she probably could have won.

Izuku’s own fights, however. It was a good thing he knew Shinsou before. Ojirou had warned him of Shinsou’s Quirk before his match, but Izuku hadn’t needed the warning. The gesture was appreciated, though.

Todoroki’s match on the other hand. Izuku shuddered, feeling the phantom flames run up his arms. It was a good match, a very good match. Izuku was glad Todoroki was using his left side, or starting to at least. Endeavor was a piece of shit, though.

Izuku frowned as he walked down the hall to the classroom. He never really liked Endeavor in the first place, and after running into the man in the halls during the sports festival made the already sour taste in his mouth worse.

Izuku shifted his backpack on his shoulders, wincing as the muscle protested. They were given the day following the sports festival off to rest and recover, but not everything was healed. Recovery Girl healed the worst of the injuries during the event itself, so everyone just had muscle aches and minor bruises left over.

Izuku wobbled into the classroom. The noise of his classmates talking hit his ears. Some of them paused to wave but went back to their conversations. Izuku slid into his seat behind Kacchan, who just gave him the stink eye.

It felt weird to not have Kacchan blow up at him for every little thing. Izuku had to repress every flinch in him whenever Kacchan yelled at one of his friends like Kirishima or Kaminari. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that.

Izuku rubbed the spot where his shoulder was still sore from that little stunt he pulled during the first event. It had been a good idea and he pulled it off, but in hindsight it was extremely dangerous. The force and height from the explosions could have been serious if he had landed wrong. Recovery Girl had given him a scolding when he visited after his first fight of the third round.

He was glad he knew Shinsou's Quirk. If he hadn’t, he most likely would have lost with the things Shinsou had said. Those things really hurt to hear. If Shinsou knew Kumo was Izuku, then Izuku wouldn’t have taken them to heart. But Shinsou didn’t know that.

Izuku sighed, resting his head on his desk. He really wanted to tell Shinsou. If only Aizawa and Yamada hadn’t come home at the time they did.

He couldn’t just invite Shinsou over again and show him his gear. Shinsou knew about Izuku’s obsession and would probably think he was also dedicated to heroic vigilantes. What if Shinsou just thought it was really good cosplay?

Was Izuku just supposed to send an ominous text asking him to go to the bathroom?

Izuku lifted his head.

That was exactly what he needed to do. He pulled out his phone, keeping it under his desk. He didn’t want his classmates to see what he was doing, let alone that he was texting someone he supposedly only met once.

He pocketed the device when Aizawa slid open the classroom door. The loud voices from his classmates turned into whispers as he walked to his podium. Izuku tilted his head curiously at the large bin the man was carrying.

“These are your internship offers,” he said, dropping the bin next to him. Gasps and excited murmurs broke out amongst the students. They continued to chat while Aizawa wrote a few names on the board, adding numbers next to them. “These are the students that got offers. Don’t worry if your name isn’t on the board, you can still choose from the generic list everyone gets.”

Most of the class was up there, the exceptions being those who didn’t have the chance to properly show off their Quirks. It was no surprise to see Todoroki and Kacchan in the top two.

Izuku felt his heart drop as he scanned and scanned the list of names. Why wasn’t he up there? He should at least have some offers. Out of everyone, he had the most field experience. But deep down, he knew the reason.

Nobody wanted a Quirkless intern.

Izuku sat numbly in his chair as Aizawa began handing stacks of paper to Iida and Yaoyorozu. The two class reps passed them out. Izuku didn’t miss the conflicted look on Iida’s face when the class president handed him his single sheet of paper. Well, it was stapled to another piece, but seeing how short the list was Izuku guessed it was just the form to fill out.

With fifteen minutes of homeroom remaining, his classmates moved into their main friend groups to discuss their options. Izuku joined Uraraka, Iida, and Tsuyu, but was silent the whole time.

                                                                    _________________

“Sensei?”

Aizawa looked up from his position crouching down. He grabbed the now empty bin and stood up. “What is it, Kumo?”

Izuku was holding his intern list in his hands, nervously fidgeting with it. He repeatedly bent the corners. “Do I have to have an internship?”

Aizawa took a few moments to process what Izuku said. “I suppose you don’t have to, but Nezu has the final say.” He frowned. “What is this about?”

Izuku didn’t meet his teacher’s eyes. “W-well, I just. . . It’s pretty evident with my lack of offers that no one wants a Quirkless intern. And I mean, I already patrol so I don’t need one.” Izuku trailed off into a series of mumbles.

Aizaw sighed, wiping a hand down his tired face. “Kid, did you even look at the page stapled to it?”

Izuku shook his head. “It’s just the form to fill out, right?”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. Izuku squirmed under his gaze. He swallowed before turning the page. His eyes scanned the words, but his brain had trouble processing them until his third read. When he finally understood, Izuku gasped and looked up.

“Really?” he asked, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’re sure? That’s such an honor!”

Aizawa buried the bottom half of his face into his capture scarf. That only caused Izuku’s smile to widen. “Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s only so I can keep an eye on you.”

Izuku highly doubted that was the only reason, but for the sake of his teacher’s reputation he didn’t say anything.

Aizawa readjusted the bin in his arms, and with a slight push, made Izuku move towards the door. “Now go have lunch.”

There was a skip in his step as Izuku headed towards the cafeteria. Man, Shinsou would be so jealous if he knew.

He tripped over air. Shinsou! He told him to go to the bathroom during lunch. He should be there by now. Izuku turned around and hightailed it to the bathrooms.

He entered quickly. He quietly locked the door after catching a glimpse of familiar purple hair. Shinsou was leaning against one of the sinks, scrolling through his phone.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Izuku said.

Shinsou glanced up before going back to whatever app he was on. He froze. Looked back up. “I think you’re mistaken,” he said, putting his phone away. “My friend asked me to come here. I’m expecting a call.”

Izuku shifted on his feet. “I asked you here.”

Confusion spread across his friend’s face. “What?”

Izuku could tell he was starting to piece it together. Confirmation couldn’t hurt. Taking a deep breath, Izuku unhooked his mask. He kept eye contact with Shinsou as he lowered his safety net. The tired boy’s eyes widened, darting across Izuku’s face, taking in every detail.

“M-Midoriya?” he whispered.

Izuku cracked a smile. “Surprise.” Getting no response, he sighed. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to that night, but then my guardians came home.”

“Right,” Shinsou said, “your guardians, one of them happening to be Present Mic.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “Long story that deserves better than a bathroom confession.” Shinsou snorted. “So. . . You’re not mad?”

Shinsou frowned. “Why would I be mad?”

“I hid it from you.”

Shinsou sighed. “The only thing I’m slightly upset about is that I had to buy new shoes. But it’s really no big deal. With the way you were acting, I thought you were about to confess to murder.”

It was Izuku’s time to snort.

“Anyway,” Shinsou continued, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s get out of here, Midoriya.”

“Izuku.”

Shinsou stopped. “Huh?”

Izuku shrugged. “I just thought it was right you call me that seeing as how you know who I am now.”

“Izuku, huh?” Shinsou tested. He nodded. “Hitoshi, then.”

Chapter Text

Izuku chatted with Uraraka as they waited for her train. The other 1-A students mingled around the station, too. It was a big day; the internships started. Izuku didn’t have to go out of the city for his internship. The hero he was interning with stood a few feet away, watching over the students to make sure they got on their trains.

Izuku still couldn’t believe that Aizawa had extended an offer to him. He would have thought the underground hero would be tired of interacting with students and therefore wouldn’t want to after school hours. Izuku would have been a fool not to accept it, though.

“I’m so excited!” Uraraka exclaimed, holding her fists in front of her. “Gunhead is such an amazing hero!”

Izuku grinned, matching her enthusiasm. “You’ll learn a lot from him,” he said. “He’s great at close range combat. The appendages he shoots from his arms are really strong, but he can’t control the aim. So if the villain is really close to him, he can pack a punch. It’s really easy to lose him, though, since he isn’t as fast as say Death Arms or Miruko-”

Uraraka giggled, interrupting the beginning of a rant. “I don’t think anyone’s faster than Miruko.” Izuku blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, though.”

Izuku ducked his head. In his early days, Gunhead was one of the first heroes he ever ran into. Izuku wasn’t that strong yet, so scaling walls hadn’t been an option. The encounter was also only a little while after meeting Mei, so he didn’t have a voice modulator. Gunhead was also the first hero to not attempt to bring him to the police station.

The hero had found him after Izuku had called the police on a villain and was running away from the scene. It didn’t take much to piece the puzzle together after hearing police sirens and seeing someone rushing down the sidewalk.

Gunhead had started immediately after Izuku, attempting to use his Quirk to get him to slow down. He only managed to get a hit because Izuku had tripped over a stray can, slowing him down. Izuku cried out as small bullets pierced the back of his knee. He fell to the ground, hands going straight to the wound. He could tell the bleeding wasn’t bad, but he needed to get those bullets out before the healing process started.

He was so focused on the injury that he just barely heard Gunhead exclaim, “Shit, that’s a kid!” He didn’t even realize how close the hero had gotten until a hand tapped his shoulder. Izuku jolted and fell forward. He turned over so he sat on his butt and scooted back. He winced with every jostle his knee went through.

“Kid,” Gunhead said. The man held his hands up. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Y-you kind of already,” Izuku huffed out, “did.”

Gunhead nodded. “I know. But if I knew you were a kid I would’ve been more gentle.”

It was most likely the adrenaline wearing off, but Izuku had found himself letting the hero assess him. The only time Izuku spoke up was when hospitals were mentioned. He repeatedly said no and started pushing the hero away. Gunhead relented, and after some coaxing, ended up dropping Izuku outside of his new (old) apartment.

Izuku dragged himself up the stairs and once in the safety of his home, started the process of removing the bullets.

“Something like that,” Izuku responded, ignoring the itch behind his knee. “You’ll have a fun time.”

Uraraka grinned. “Thanks, Kumo. Oh! I think that’s my train. Wish me luck!” She waved as she grabbed her bag and headed towards the train that just pulled up.

Izuku waited for her to get on board safely before turning his attention elsewhere. He was going to approach Aizawa when someone else walked into his line of sight. Iida carried his suitcase as he walked towards his train.

Izuku frowned, watching as the class president boarded. Ever since he had to leave the sports festival early, Iida had this grim look in his eyes. After reading the news, Izuku wasn’t surprised. The pro hero Ingenium had been attacked by Stain. The man had survived, but was now permanently paralyzed. Iida must be grieving.

But something struck Izuku. His eyes narrowed. Iida’s expression was no longer the grim one it had been before. It had morphed into determination. Something in his gut told Izuku the student wasn’t just excited for the internship, but before he could go up to him Iida’s train had closed its doors.

He forced himself to move, hoping that feeling was wrong. Aizawa’s eyes slid over to Izuku as he got closer. Aizawa turned to face him.

“Since we both live in Musutafu,” Aizawa began, “I find it illogical for you to stay with me when you can stay with your parents.”

Oh, the irony , Izuku thought, smirking under his mask. His shoulders relaxed. He didn’t have the time to think up a reason why his civilian self wasn’t around the house, especially since Mei and Hitoshi were both busy this week. Wow. He needed more friends.

“So,” the man continued, “we’ll meet up on the roof of this building every night at 10 P.M.” Aizawa handed him an index card. “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be dedicated to sparring at U.A. in Gym Gamma.”

Izuku cocked his head to the side. “Why not every day?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the decrease in your patrols since you were enrolled.”

The man had a point. Izuku had to cut back on his patrols, otherwise he would be too tired for class the following morning. The first and only time he was too tired in class was a few days after he was enrolled. He had fallen asleep during math and was woken up by one of Ectoplasm’s clones. The teacher had only given him a warning, but Iida’s near twenty-minute long lecture during lunch still haunted him to this day. Iida ranting about how unheroic it was to participate in criminal activities instead of getting eight hours of sleep was ingrained in his memory.

Easy to say, Izuku never fell asleep in class again.

Aizawa paused briefly, the sign that Izuku came to learn as Aizawa remembering something. “Speaking of patrols. If I see you out tonight, I’ll make tomorrow’s training hell.”

Izuku gulped and nodded quickly.

Having given him the necessary information, Aizawa dismissed Izuku. Izuku figured he didn’t need to stay any longer, and the only people who talked to him outside of classes had already left, so he decided to head home.

                                                                ___________________

Izuku pushed the door to Gym Gamma open. When he arrived at U.A., he didn’t see Aizawa by the front gate or anywhere outside, so he just headed to the gym. He assumed the man was already inside, setting up for whatever he had planned.

He was proven right when Aizawa’s capture weapon tried to wrap around Izuku’s waist. Izuku jumped back and fell into a fighting stance. He looked up and met Aizawa’s eyes. The man called back his scarf and tucked it around his neck.

“Your reflexes are good,” he said. He put his hands into his pockets. “As I said yesterday, aside from nightly patrols we’ll also be training. This week’s lesson is something they don’t really teach spotlight heroes: stealth.”

Izuku wanted to argue that he was plenty stealthy, but they both knew that was a lie.

“I’m sure you recall our first patrol almost two months ago.” Izuku winced at the memory. He had tripped over a stupid can and nearly ruined everything. As if sensing Izuku’s inner turmoil, Aizawa continued. “It could have been worse. That’s what training is for. You’ll be completing different stealth tasks on Wednesday and Friday, and there will be one task assigned today that you’ll have all week to do.”

Izuku gulped. “Alright. What’s the task?”

Aizawa shifted, going into a looser stance. “I’ll explain it later. Right now,” his capture weapon shot out, this time successfully grabbing Izuku and yanking him towards the teacher, “we’re sparring.”

Izuku wriggled in the scarf’s grip. His arms were pinned to his sides, but his hands were still free. He kept eye contact with Aizawa as his fingers slipped into his pocket, wrapping around his knife. “What are the rules?”

Aizawa blinked. “Think of this as a villain fight.”

Anything goes was what he meant. Izuku smirked under his mask. While talking, he had inched his blade under the scarf. He jerked his wrist down. Feeling the scarf tear, he pushed his arms out. He aimed a kick at the bottom of Aizawa’s sternum. The man wheezed, but didn’t move back as far as Izuku hoped.

Aizawa looked at his capture weapon that was now in two pieces. He didn’t linger on it; he wrapped the ends around his wrists and went after Izuku.

With Aizawa’s main method of restraining cut in half, Izuku didn’t have to make sure there was a lot of distance between them. The scarf could only go so far, but Izuku’s webs could theoretically go forever.

The spar went on for another five minutes. Izuku was stuck in an endless state of wanting to keep away from the capture weapon and wanting to stay within kicking distance of the teacher. Aizawa was amazing at hand-to-hand combat, but the scarf was for long-range combat.

By the end of the match, Izuku had ended up on the ground with his arms and legs tied together, preventing any means of escape. Izuku ceased his struggling when Aizawa placed his boot on Izuku’s chest.

An eyebrow raise was the only thing needed for Izuku to sigh. “I give.” The scarf immediately unraveled from his body, letting the boy free. Izuku stretched his limbs as he watched Aizawa walk over to where his other boot had been left.

Izuku grinned. He had hoped that trick would work, but it was still funny to see the stoic man slightly rise in height with each step.

Aizawa pulled out his own knife and sawed through the webbing that was under the boot. He grimaced as it was pulled free and slipped it back on.

The rest of the time ended up being dedicated to fixing Izuku’s form and teaching a few advanced moves. He even managed to convince Aizawa to teach how to perform a flip properly. It took half of their time, but it was worth it in Izuku’s mind.

“Alright,” Aizawa said as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a towel. “Your task this week is simple: take something from me without me noticing. It doesn’t matter if I see you returning it as long as I don’t see you take it.”

That sounded simple as just words, but Izuku knew it would be much harder to actually do. Aizawa was practically the master of stealth.

“Also,” he continued, “on Wednesday there will be someone else here, too.”

Izuku waited for more information, but the man appeared to be done talking as he started towards the gym doors. As Izuku followed, bits and pieces of a plan began to form in his mind.

                                                                     _____________

Izuku wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked into Gym Gamma two days later, but an obstacle course wasn’t his first guess. Seeing as Aizawa was involved, Izuku didn’t think that would ever cross his mind. Nor did he expect to see a familiar figure standing on his tiptoes as he tied a rope around something.

“Today’s lesson is about situational awareness,” Aizawa’s voice came from beside him. Izuku looked up and found his teacher standing to his left. “Stealth has two parts: being quiet and being aware of your surroundings. Your task is to set off as few traps as you can while making it to the end. You have until the end of the hour. I’ll be training Shinsou in the clear half of the room.”

Izuku turned to look over at his friend. Hitoshi looked like a young kid who just got in trouble with how wide his eyes were. “Wait, why is he here?” Izuku asked, tilting his head and not breaking eye contact with his friend.

Aizawa either didn’t sense the slight tension going on or chose to ignore it. He looked over at Hitoshi, who now appeared to be begging the ground to swallow him up. “I was impressed with his actions during the sports festival,” he explained. “He will hopefully be in your class next year.” He glared down at the vigilante. “If I find out you said that to your other classmates, I’ll expel you.”

Izuku had spent enough time around Aizawa to know that the threat wasn’t serious.

Izuku took a step forward to head over to the obstacle course when something whizzed past him. He jumped back and looked around before locking on Hitoshi. The purple haired boy held a white gun in his hand. The vigilante slowly looked over his shoulder. Logically, he knew there was no way his teacher would give a gun to someone untrained, at least not without Snipe present, but there was the small part of his brain that doubted everything.

Luckily, it wasn’t a bullet hole next to his face but rather a splatter of paint.

“I’m not even at the start yet!” Izuku complained, giving Aizawa an incredulous expression.

“Real life isn’t an obstacle course, kid,” the man shrugged, as if that justified the brief whiplash he put his student through. “Situational awareness is something you need to use everyday, all the time even if it’s just at home.” He pulled out his phone and typed something on it. “You just earned your first death for the day. Now get going.”

Izuku wanted to protest, but Aizawa had already begun walking away. Izuku grumbled under his breath as he not-so-subtly stomped over to the start of the course.

Each room has an objective, huh? Izuku wondered as he walked into the first building. He figured Aizawa must be simulating a real life mission. He didn’t give any hints as to what the objectives were, so Izuku must have to look for them. He sighed. First the situational awareness, now adding tasks to the task. Aizawa was really going all out.

Izuku stopped right in front of the door, looking around the room. To say the room was trashed would be an understatement. Chairs were tipped over, papers were thrown everywhere. Izuku squinted. Were those claw marks on the wall? How long did this take to set up?

Izuku put that last question aside and took a step inside. Something creaked, and he ducked just in time for a paintball to fly past his head. He watched it splatter against a cracked window. Seriously? More paint?

Izuku glanced down and saw he triggered a tripwire. He sighed. Of course. He stepped over it, not trusting it to not have another paintball. As he moved throughout the room, he picked up the scattered papers and looked over them. Most of them were blank, some had scribbles, others were random sentences that made no sense put together. One sheet appeared to have important information.

Name: Sakamoto Aiko

Age: 5

Quirk: Unnamed. Sharp nails that can extend into long, pointed claws. Current range 5 inches. Durability unknown.

“Explains those marks,” Izuku muttered to himself. The itch in the back of his mind that latched onto Quirks roared, but he had no time for that. He had to finish the course and besides, he wasn’t even sure if that Quirk existed.

He left the paper where he found it. He guessed he would have to encounter that Quirk sometime during the course.He glanced over the room one more time, checking to see if anything else caught his eye. When he saw nothing, he left through the exit across from the one he entered. There was no tripwire this time.

Izuku knew he had an hour to get through it, but if this was simulating an actual case he might encounter, he didn’t want to develop a bad habit of looking through every single thing.

He came face-to-face with a ladder. He watched on and started climbing. It was when he was halfway up when he saw the glove prints being left behind. He barely had enough time to jump off before the ladder tipped backwards. It landed with a loud crash, making him jump back. He stared at where it fell. A snicker hit his ears. Izuku glared over at Hitoshi, but it couldn’t be seen from under the mask. He was sure Hitoshi knew what he was doing.

He uncapped his fingers and shot two webs at the top of the wall. He pulled himself up. He hoped there weren’t any more trick ladders. He didn’t have enough web fluid left. He was planning on making more tonight.

He brushed himself off and looked in front of him. There was another wall the same height as the one he was currently standing on. He backed up as much as he could before launching himself across the gap. He gripped the ledge as best he could. Instead of pulling himself up the wall, he just flipped his body over so it hung over the other side. He let go and landed in a crouch.

He stood up and faced the next room. Something was moving inside. He tiptoed up to the opening. Whatever it was noticed his movement and turned around. The robot beeped and pinged as it raised its arm. Izuku shot a web its way right as it fired its paintball gun. It hit him right in the forehead. He groaned.

The course continued like this; Izuku going from room to room, trying to piece together what the simulation was while trying to avoid getting splattered in paint. By the time he made it to the final room — he assumed it was the final room, the exit led to where Aizawa and Hitoshi were training — he had five small splatters on his front, one on his back, and that one on his head.

The room was surprisingly empty except for a. . . Watermelon wearing a dress? Okay, that was weird even for Aizawa. Izuku shrugged and walked forward. One glance down had him taking a wider step. There was a button right under his foot. The sudden shift made him step on the other button in front of the first.

He tensed up, preparing for the next paintball. None came. Instead, there was a click and the sound of chains falling. Izuku decided to wing it and leaped across the room and over to the watermelon. He gently picked it up, hearing the clang of chains. So that button released the chains. Huh. He wondered what the other button did, but didn’t want to risk it.

He held the watermelon close to him as he exited the obstacle course. Hitoshi stopped his practice in order to laugh at him. Izuku just scoffed. “Let’s see you go through that,” he said.

Aizawa dropped out of his fighting stance. “Give Shinsou the watermelon and hold your arms out.” Izuku did just that. Aizawa walked around the vigilante. “Congratulations. You died four times and alerted the villains to your presence seven times. But you still saved the melon. Now, why do you think they kidnapped the melon?”

Izuku thought back to the claw marks. “I’m assuming it was some kind of Quirk trafficking. There were claw marks on the wall which could have been a villain, but the paper with the Quirk description says otherwise. The melon was also chained up.”

Aizawa nodded. “Good. Now that you’re finished, I want you to spar with Shinsou.”

Hitoshi looked mildly terrified. Izuku just grinned and got into position.

                                                                  _________________

Izuku pulled out the box under his bed. He flipped the top open and pulled out his web shooters and fanny pack. Carrying the items, he stood up and walked over to his desk. He sat down. It was time to refill his webs.

He always refilled them every month; it was the only thing he didn’t have Mei do no matter how many times she begged. He created the formula over the course of six months and spent many sleepless nights perfecting it. As much as he had faith in Mei’s abilities, if even one thing went wrong then the entire batch would be ruined.

He dumped out the extra vials that were in the fanny pack. Out of the ten he had, only two of them were still filled. He pushed himself away from his desk and went back over to the box. Inside the box, underneath the hoodie, was another much smaller box. That box held the ingredients needed to make the webs.

Upon opening, Izuku frowned. The box usually held the ingredients. It appeared he would need to go to the store and buy more. And stop by Mei’s warehouse. Even though she didn’t know the recipe, she did inadvertently help make it ten times as sticky as the original recipe did. He was showing her the finished product when she accidentally knocked something into it. He had no idea what the substance was or where she got it (she would never tell him) so he had to go there in order to get it.

Most of the stuff could be bought at stores, though.

He made sure to close the bedroom door behind him. He could hear faint sounds of a vacuum from upstairs, and changed his direction to the upper floor. Yamada and Aizawa’s bedroom door was wide open. Upon peeking in, Izuku found Yamada vacuuming. The man had his headphones on and his head bopped around as he moved through the room.

Izuku waited until Yamada turned around. He knew better than trying to get his attention when music was involved.

Yamada met his eyes and pulled his headphones down around his neck. “Hey, Listener!”

“Just thought I’d let you know I’m heading to the store and then Mei’s real quick!” Izuku yelled over the vacuum’s motor.

The voice hero gave him a thumbs up. “Sounds good! Would you mind picking up some eggs, too? I think we’re almost out!”

Izuku nodded, and Yamada went back to vacuuming. Izuku headed downstairs and quickly got his shoes on. He patted his pockets to make sure he had his wallet. Feeling it, Izuku exited the house.

The store wasn’t far, just a few blocks. Mei’s was in the other direction and it would take longer, so he figured he’d visit her after.

The store wasn’t crowded, which Izuku could understand. It was the middle of the week in the middle of the day. Most people were at work. Izuku picked up a basket and headed down the aisle he needed. His first item was a large gallon of glue. The glue was what gave it the stickiness, and Mei’s ingredient enhanced it.

He continued his shopping, barely remembering to pick up the eggs.

The cashier didn’t make small talk, and Izuku was thankful. It must’ve been strange seeing a kid buying a bunch of chemicals.

He left the store with two bags and headed off to Mei’s. When he got there, he knocked on the warehouse door and slipped inside. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw she wasn’t in there. As much as he loved testing her inventions, he didn’t have the time right now and he knew she would have eventually roped him into something.

He took one of her post-it notes and scribbled down why he broke into her building. The bottle he needed was located on the table with all her other liquid chemicals. How she had access to most of them, Izuku did not want to know.

He just snatched the bottle and put it in the bag with the others. The bottle didn’t have a label, much to his disappointment. It was just on top of a piece of paper that said “Kumo’s secret ingredient”.

It took him ten minutes to return home. He hurried to the kitchen to put the now warm eggs in the fridge. He spotted Yamada sitting at the kitchen table, staring intensely at something. Izuku didn’t see what it was with how he was rushing to his bedroom.

He put the bag on his desk and sat down. He carefully took each ingredient out and set them down. He reached his hand out to move his gloves and vials out of the way, freezing when his fingers just brushed up against air. He stared at the empty space, his mind racking through every possible outcome.

I just put them away, he rationalized, and forgot while I was out.

“They’re in the box,” he whispered. “They’re just in the box. The box that’s under my bed. The box that is sealed.”

He repeated that as he knelt down and faced the open box. His hoodie was still there, covered in paint that he hadn’t had time to wash out, but it was unfolded. Izuku’s eyes fell to the carpet. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the tell-tale signs of a vacuum; straight lines going in opposite directions and the smell of carpet freshener. His mind flew back to Yamada’s vacuuming. To how he was unusually quiet while sitting when he got back.

He scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the bedroom, running down the hall. He stood behind Yamada. The man had his head down and his fingers were drumming against the table. He was unusually quiet. Yamada couldn’t stand silence, and there was always some kind of noise in the background if he wasn’t talking himself.

Izuku dared to take a few steps forward. He slowly reached out to grab the gloves when Yamada spoke.

“Care to explain why I found these in your room?”

Izuku swallowed. “N-not really.”

Yamada sighed, turning around to look at Izuku. Izuku took a step back after seeing the expression on his face. It was a mix of confusion, hurt, and was that anger? Yamada was. . . angry at him?

“Midoriya,” Izuku winced at the use of his surname. It wasn’t Listener this time. Yamada was serious. “Just tell me. Are you Kumo?”

Tears pooled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Many sentences flooded his mind. He wanted to say no. He wanted to say it was cosplay. He wanted to deny everything. But the one thought that came out was, “A-are you going to ki-ck me out?”

Yamada looked like he had been punched in the gut. Whatever anger had been building up was wiped off his face. His eyes widened behind his glasses. “Kick you- No, of course not!” The man stood up and pulled Izuku into a hug.

Izuku sniffed. The dam building behind his eyes broke when he felt Yamada’s arms wrap around him. He openly sobbed into his shoulder, staining his shirt with his tears. Yamada just held him tighter, pressing a hand onto his head while the other one rubbed up and down his back.

“Why do you think I’ll kick you out?” Yamada asked in a hushed voice.

Izuku hiccuped. “B-because I lied. Because Aizawa-san is on my case. Please don’t tell him!”

Yamada sighed. “I don’t like keeping secrets from him,” he said. “But this seems like an important one. However,” he pulled away from Izuku and placed his hands on his shoulders, “I highly recommend telling him. He won’t be as mad as you think.”

“But-”

Izuku was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. He tore himself away from Yamada and ran towards his bedroom.

He faintly heard Yamada say, “Sho, you’re back!” although it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it normally was.

Izuku pressed his back against the closed door and slid to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest. His shooters sat in his lap.

He won’t be as mad as you think.

His head fell back against the door. Yeah, right.

                                                     ___________________

It was 10:04 when he arrived at the rooftop Eraserhead had said. The man was crouched down by the edge, drinking what appeared to be a cup of coffee. Eraserhead looked over at the sound of Izuku hopping over the ledge and onto the roof. He finished his drink before standing up and walking over to the edge. He proceeded to drop the cup. Izuku heard a faint rustling sound and assumed there was a dumpster.

“I would really appreciated not having a repeat of that night,” was the first thing out of Eraserhead’s mouth. “Let’s see if those lessons have been paying off.”

Eraserhead turned and jumped onto the next roof. Izuku followed. They jumped from roof to roof in peaceful silence. Eraserhead kept an eye out while Izuku kept his ears open. They only stopped when Eraserhead’s phone pinged. The man stopped so suddenly that Izuku almost ran into his back.

“There’s a villain in the area,” he explained, pocketing the device. He loosened his capture weapon slightly. “B-rank, octopus mutation Quirk. The police are already looking for him. Remember situational awareness, kid.”

Izuku nodded, and the two were off. They were much slower this time now that they actively had to look for the villain.

Izuku looked at each pedestrian they passed, locking onto the suspicious ones. None of them fit the description of an octopus Quirk.

One person, however, was too sketchy not to take his eyes off of. They were bald headed with maroon skin. Izuku squinted. The person kneeled next to a car and began picking the lock. Their arms moved in a weird fashion, almost as if they were strands of hair in water.

“Eraserhead!” Izuku whispered harshly, catching the older man’s attention. Izuku pointed to the person. The man nodded, and the two jumped off the rooftop. Eraserhead landed with much more grace than Izuku, who lowered himself onto the dumpster first. Izuku followed closely behind his mentor.

Eraserhead fixed his goggles so they covered his eyes. “You lose your keys or something?”

The person startled, dropping whatever it was they were using to pick the lock in order to jump up and turn around. Something moving caught Izuku’s eye. He looked down, silently gasping as he saw four appendages sprout from behind the person’s back.

“Eraser,” he whispered, jerking his head down.

The villain zeroed in on Izuku. They growled and attacked. Two tentacles slammed into Eraserhead, knocking him away, while another went for Izuku. The slimy appendage wrapped around his waist and lifted him up.

Izuku’s breath was knocked out from the tight squeeze, but he wasn’t able to catch it in time for another tentacle to wrap around his neck. His hands instantly went up to grab it. He tried pulling, but that only made the villain squeeze harder.

He flailed his legs out as he tried to build up momentum. His vision grew worse as black dots filled his eyes. Using the last ounce of strength he had, he swung his legs up and kicked forward. His boots connected with the villain’s jaw.

The villain roared as their head snapped back. The tentacles loosened enough for Izuku to take out his knife and deliver a few slices. Blood splashed on his mask.

Izuku collapsed to the ground. He coughed and hacked, holding his throat. As he waited for his breath to return, he looked over to see how Eraserhead was fairing.

The man had returned to the fight. He jumped and dodged and countered every attack the villain threw out. Eraserhead delivered a few kicks and a swift punch to the villain’s face. The villain staggered back, holding their nose.

That seemed to be the turning point for the fight as the villain started getting slower. Eraserhead must have given them a concussion. Izuku heard police sirens get closer to their position.

Eraserhead got one last kick in before the villain went down. He tucked his capture weapon back against his neck. “Want to do the honors?” he asked, gesturing to the unconscious villain.

Izuku got to his feet. His legs shook. He walked over to the villain and uncapped his fingers. He wasn’t sure how the webs would react to the slime produced from the tentacles, so he aimed them at the clothing instead.

“Sorry.” Izuku winced. Even through the modulator he could tell how bad his voice sounded. He really hoped that would go away. Shit. His hand reached up to his neck. He rubbed it gently.

“For what?”

“Not doing much, I guess.” He shrugged.

Eraserhead appeared puzzled. “Kid, you were a huge help.”

“All I did was give him a kick and a few cuts.”

“And those kicks and cuts did good.” Eraserhead sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That kick was pretty strong considering you were about to pass out, and those cuts helped weaken them. I wouldn’t have given you this offer if I didn’t think you were capable.”

Izuku wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but luckily he didn’t have to. A police car and an ambulance pulled up. Izuku helped the officers cut the villain out of his webs. They thanked him and led the villain away. One of the officers walked over to Eraserhead to ask for his statement.

As he talked, Izuku found himself next to the ambulance. Two of the paramedics were taking care of the villain. The third paramedic approached Izuku. “Do you need to be looked over?” she asked kindly.

Izuku nodded his head and gestured to his throat. The lady nodded and had him sit at the bottom of the ambulance. The stretcher wasn’t ready to be loaded yet. The paramedic did her assessment, pressing on each side of his throat.

“I don’t think it needs immediate attention,” she said, pressing lightly on his Adam's apple. “It’ll bruise for sure, though. If you have trouble breathing or the pain gets worse I would go to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Izuku bowed. He hopped off the step and made his way over to Eraserhead right as he finished up his statement. The officer nodded in greeting at Izuku and left.

Izuku thought about what the paramedic said. It would be really hard to hide the bruises. Then he thought about what Yamada said. Would Eraserhead really not be mad? Izuku knew he would be mad if he found out someone he cared about hid a dangerous thing from him.

He took a deep breath, or as deep as his injured throat would let him. “Eraser, I need-”

“You get looked over?” Eraser asked, interrupting the vigilante. With how quiet his voice was, Izuku was sure the man didn’t hear him. Izuku nodded. “Good. Because we still have work to do.”

He left no room for further conversation. Izuku followed the underground hero up a building. “Where are we going?”

“Hosu.”

Izuku’s mind flashed to Iida. “Why?"

“There was an alert sent out for all available heroes to go there.”

Izuku didn’t ask what was going on. He didn’t have to. As they approached the city, Izuku saw why.

Hosu was on fire.

Chapter Text

Flames were everywhere. They danced through the streets and climbed up buildings. Izuku jumped out of the way of a piece of falling debris. People ran through the streets, screaming and trying to avoid the fire.

He stood next to Eraserhead, who was scanning the area. “Kumo,” he said, “I want you to help evacuate people. It looks like there’s an evacuation station over there.” He pointed down the street where other heroes could be seen waving people over. “Help anyone who’s injured.”

Izuku nodded and ran towards the evacuators. He ignored the feeling of heat clawing at his clothes and skin. As he ran, he gestured for civilians to follow him. He slid to a stop when something caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw a little girl crying. She was holding her knee.

He changed directions and hurried over to her. The crying didn’t stop, but she did look up. Izuku knelt next to her.

“Hey,” he said gently, “are you okay?”

“M-my knee!” she sobbed. “I can’t move it!”

He rested his hands on her wrist. “Can you show me?” She nodded, moving her hands away. Izuku swallowed. The knee was obviously dislocated. He could barely see how the kneecap was out of place with how much swelling and bruising there was.

“Is it alright if I pick you up?” he asked. “I’m not certified in first aid but I can get you to someone who is.”

The girl sniffed and nodded, wiping tears that were quickly replaced with more. Carefully, the vigilante scooped her up. He apologized when she let out a gasp from her jolted knee. He held it close to his chest so it wouldn’t bump so much as he ran.

“What’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep her from passing out from shock. “I’m Kumo.”

“H-Hina,” she whispered.

“Okay, Hina-chan. The heroes are going to take good care of you.” When he got close enough, he waved over a sidekick. Onima, one of Endeavor’s sidekicks, jogged over and gladly took Hina from Izuku’s arms.

“She has a dislocated knee,” Izuku said. Onima thanked him and brought the child over to an EMT.

Izuku turned to run back into the streets when he heard a familiar roar. He stiffened as large footsteps stomped down the streets, causing the ground to shake. Rubble bounced up and down. Izuku spun around and paled. Eraserhead, along with a few other heroes, were fighting a Nomu. It looked similar to the one from the USJ.

Izuku blinked once, and all he could see was Eraserhead’s bruised and bloodied body laying on the ground. All he could hear were the screams falling from his mouth as the creature repeatedly bashed his head onto the concrete. All he could feel were the bones in his body protesting when the Nomu threw him to the other side of the building.

He blinked again, and it was all gone. Now he saw Eraserhead’s floating hair and heroes doing everything they could to fight the beast. He heard the Nomu’s roars and Eraserhead’s commands. He felt his body tense up when the creature broke out of Eraser’s capture weapon.

He examined the creature, looking for anything they could take advantage of. Unlike before, they didn’t have All Might’s strength to just punch it into the sky. He eyed the exposed brain. Why would they leave such a glaring weakness in a beast made to kill the number one hero?

Before he could even finish forming his plan, Izuku found his body moving. He darted across the street and over to the chaos. One of the heroes fighting was flung towards him. He tried to catch them, but the size difference was too big and Izuku was sent sprawling across the gravel. 

The hero rolled off of him, apologizing and holding his hand out. Izuku gladly accepted it, letting himself be pulled up. They both turned back to the fight. The hero joined the others, but Izuku chose to hang back while he formulated the plan.

If I can get one of the heroes to launch me into the air so I land on the Nomu. . .

Izuku put a hand over the mouth part of his mask as he muttered to himself. Izuku could use the butt of his knife to knock the creature out while Eraserhead cancelled out the Quirks. The other heroes fighting would also help. Since it wouldn’t be able to regenerate, the blood loss would-

“--Look out!” someone called out.

Izuku gasped and jumped out of the way of an oncoming fist. The Nomu roared and swung again. Izuku danced around the attacks as he tried to get over to his mentor.

White cloth wrapped around the Nomu’s fist. “I thought I told you to help with the evacuations!” Eraserhead scolded.

“You looked like you needed help,” Izuku yelled over the sound of the chaos. “Besides, I have a plan.”

He explained his idea, and Eraserhead seemed hesitant.

“Kid, you shouldn’t have to do that,” the hero argued. “The first one took you out immediately.” As if to make a point, the Nomu ripped his capture weapon from where it had been wrapped around.

Izuku winced. Eraserhead must have heard about that from the reports. “It’s either that or we run and let this thing loose,” he countered.

The man sighed, visibly aging by 80 years. “Fine.”

The only problem with the plan was that the Nomu seemed to lock onto Izuku and made him its new target. Izuku gulped. Even if its Quirks were erased, the Nomu could still bat Izuku out of the air.

While Izuku kept the creature distracted, Eraserhead moved over to the other heroes to relay the plan. They must have agreed, because the next thing he knew, Izuku was surrounded by pros trying to get Nomu's attention.

Izuku zipped open his fanny pack and dug around. “Might wanna close your eyes, Eraser!”

The heroes around him protested, but Eraserhead just sighed and nodded. His hair fell down around his shoulders, and Izuku took that as his cue.

He raised his arm and threw a smoke bomb straight at the Nomu. The beast screeched, taking a few steps back. Its head moved around frantically. Izuku ran over to Eraserhead. He tapped the man on the shoulder. They locked eyes. It was time.

Quirk activated again, Eraserhead cupped his hands together. Izuku stepped on them, and then he was in the air. He wrapped his legs around the Nomu’s neck to keep himself steady. His fingers dug into the small cracks between the skull and the exposed brain.

The nomu immediately began trying to throw him off. He hissed when strong hands gripped his legs and pulled. Something popped in his knee. Black dots swam in his vision, but Izuku ignored them. He had to. The heroes were depending on him. He already failed once. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

With a trembling hand, he held his knife with the blade facing him. He looked to make sure that Erasure was still working. Seeing it confirmed, Izuku wasted no time. He slammed the butt of the knife down onto the creature’s brain.

The creature staggered to the side. It was still attacking, but each hit to the brain slowed it down.

Just one more. One more and it’ll be out.

He breathed deeply, preparing for one last hit when something stopped him. The Nomu’s fist connected with something. His eyes widened as he observed the Nomu’s wounds healing. A familiar groan reached Izuku’s ears. Dread filled every bone in his body as he forced his eyes away from his target.

“No. . .” he whispered, tightening his hold on the Nomu. The scene looked so familiar. Eraserhead laid face down in the street. He was in front of a burning car. His capture weapon was singed at the edges.

The screams of the civilians reminded him of the screams from his classmates as villains descended upon them.

His mouth twisted into a snarl. He couldn’t let it happen again. Eraserhead had nearly died the first time because Izuku didn’t do anything. But now he had the chance. Without realizing it, he had flipped his knife around so the blade faced the exposed flesh. A gut wrenching scream tore itself out of his mouth as he drove the blade through the organ. Repeatedly.

Blood sprayed everywhere. It was on his knife, on his gloves, his neck. Some even snuck through the eye holes on his mask and dotted his eyelids. Izuku couldn't bring himself to care. The only thing that mattered was making sure Eraserhead survived.

When did he start crying? He didn't know. All he knew was that he could feel warm, fat tears rolling down his face. They slipped through his mask and down his neck. The sobs were an ugly sound with his voice changer on. The fight slowly left his body as he cried, stabs growing weaker and weaker until they eventually stopped.

Izuku slumped down, his knife falling from his fingers and catching itself between his knee and the Nomu's neck. Joints groaned as the creature swayed back and forth before collapsing to its knees. Izuku didn't have time to brace himself before he was flown from his hold. His hoodie rode up as he tumbled across the destroyed road, rocks and debris cutting into his skin. His knife landed next to him.

His vision blurred from the tears as he raised his head to look around. He locked onto the still form of Eraserhead. Izuku tried to crawl over, but his knee prevented him. He looked down at it. Even through his pants, he could see that the kneecap was very obviously out of place.

A hero knelt next to him. It was Burnin’. When did Burnin’ get there? Had she been in the fight?

She was talking to him, but Izuku couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears. Something jostled his knee, and he jerked back in response. Burnin’ held up her hands and made a show of moving towards his knee. Realizing what she was going to do, Izuku nodded and squeezed his eyes shut.

She moved his leg up and pushed on it. Burning pain crashed through the injury, but that soon went away. He gagged at the feeling of his joint going back into place.

Now able to move, Izuku pushed away from the sidekick and crawled over to Eraserhead. The pain in his knee had subsided to a throb. More tears spilled from his eyes as he clinged to the unconscious hero.

“Eraser!” he sobbed. “Wake up!” He pressed two fingers against the man’s neck, searching for a pulse. Relief spread through him when he found one. It was weak, but it was there. Now all he had to do was wake up.

He had to wake up. Izuku defeated the Nomu. Shigaraki’s plan failed. The Nomu made to defeat All Might was gone. So why wasn’t Eraserhead waking up?!

Pairs of feet alerted him. He glanced over and saw Tsu’s worried expression. He blinked, and it was Burnin’.

Right. This wasn’t the USJ. Shigaraki didn’t have a plan. This was Hosu. Where Nomu ran free and people were in danger and sirens were growing louder and he had to save them-

Gentle hands pulled him away. He let them. Burnin’ was saying something to him, something about staying with the evacuation heroes and resting. Izuku found himself nodding. He watched as two paramedics loaded Eraserhead into an ambulance.

Something reflective caught his attention. He reached out for it. Eraserhead’s phone. He slipped it into his fanny pack and zipped it closed.

Burnin’ helped him stand. He hopped in order to keep pressure off of his knee. They turned around. The scene before him would surely be in his nightmares.

The Nomu laid there, still. The arms were twisted at odd angles. Blood was everywhere, but most of it was by the brain. Oh god, the brain . Izuku wanted to vomit. It was a mess of shredded, pink mush. He could see the deep holes his knife had made. If it wasn’t in the skull, Izuku would not have known it was supposed to be the organ that runs everything.

A hero knelt next to it, fingers pressed against the neck. They looked up at an officer who had arrived. They shook their head.

Izuku choked out a sob. He. . . he killed it? No. He couldn’t have. He was just supposed to knock it out. Heroes weren’t supposed to kill. Did they know it was him? Would they send him to jail?

He let Burnin’ lead him over to a group of heroes that were performing first aid on injured civilians. He heard her speak, but none of the words registered in his head. The looks of pity and concern he was given were good enough indications for what was said.

He pulled himself away from the sidekick and instead chose to sit against a wall that wasn’t on fire. He pulled his legs up as close to his chest as he could and buried his head in his knees. The throbbing was nonexistent at this point.

The heroes went about doing their jobs. Izuku should be out there, too. He wasn’t injured, at least not badly. His back and elbows were probably scraped up, but he could still run and fight. He could still protect people. He could. . .

Who was he kidding? How could he protect people if he couldn’t even incapacitate the Nomu fast enough? He was just a weak, Quirkless-

No.

He stopped that thought immediately. That line of thinking was what got people killed, and he couldn’t let himself or other people die just because he was feeling sorry for himself. He shoved those thoughts, those feelings, those images of the Nomu’s corpse and Eraserhead’s body away. He’d deal with them later.

He stood up and shrugged his shoulders a bit. He still had a job to do.

“Tenya?” a voice called out. “Has anyone seen Tenya? My intern?”

Izuku looked to the right and saw the Normal Hero: Manual moving frantically across the street. He had his hands cupped around his mouth as he kept calling out for his intern.

Tenya. . . Iida? The same Iida from his class? Izuku frowned. Why would he have left his mentor?

Izuku couldn’t help but gasp as the dots connected. Iida, whose brother had nearly died at the hands of a killer. Iida, who had decided to intern in Hosu with a hero who probably couldn’t offer him much.

Izuku found himself running over to the pro hero. “Are you talking about Iida Tenya?” he asked.

Manual’s eyes widened. “Yes! Do you know where he is? When all the chaos broke out we got separated.”

Izuku shook his head. “Sorry. I can help look for him, though.”

Manual smiled. “Thank you.”

The two parted ways. Manual continued to call out Iida’s name. Izuku ran down the street in the opposite direction. If his suspicions were correct, then he would be in an alley.

A few minutes went by, and there was still no sign of the class president. Izuku was going to try another direction or even start scaling the buildings for a better view when that same roar from earlier reached his ears.

Izuku tensed up, preparing for a fight, but that was proven unnecessary when a wave of fire covered the Nomu. Izuku looked up. Endeavor had begun fighting the beast. Izuku was ready to leave the number two hero to it but images of Eraserhead flashed in his eyes.

His hands balled into fists. Bastard of a father or not, Izuku was not going to risk another hero dying while he was around.

“Endeavor!” he yelled. The flame hero just slid his eyes over to the vigilante. “You won’t be able to kill it like that!”

The hero snarled. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you, villain.”

Izuku scoffed, ignoring that jab. “I meant ,” Izuku crossed his arms, “those things are designed to kill All Might. You won’t be able to beat it unless you go for the brain.”

Endeavor didn’t reply. He didn’t even change his tactics.

“Guess you’ll never beat All Might if you can’t take down a Nomu like he did,” Izuku quipped. A huge wave of flames came towards Izuku. He braced himself. He wouldn’t have time to jump out of the way.

Luckily, he didn't have to. A wall of ice stopped it, though it melted almost immediately from the heat.

Izuku gaped as Todoroki stepped in front of him. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t roast my classmate.”

The way Todoroki had said that was wrong. It made it sound like that had happened before. They could talk about that later. Izuku didn’t think he had the mental capacity for anything else.

Without thinking, Izuku grabbed Todoroki by the wrist and began dragging him away from Endeavor, ignoring the yells from said hero.

“I need your help,” Izuku said. “Iida’s missing and may be in trouble.”

The two walked until they reached a building. Izuku proceeded to climb the building while telling Todoroki to stay on the ground. He didn’t know if Todoroki could do any kind of parkour and didn’t want to risk it.

With Izuku observing from above and Todoroki from the ground, they had a much better chance of finding Iida before it was too late.

Izuku was about to leap across a roof when something caught his eye below. He slid to a stop. Right below stood the Hero Killer. The man had two swords out, one of which was dripping blood. A few feet in front of him laid Iida. Izuku could see a small pool of blood forming around his shoulder.

Todoroki stood outside of the alley, his arm covered in flames.

“You better leave, hero,” Stain said, making slow steps towards them both. “I don’t have a habit of killing kids.”

Todoroki took a step back. “You appear to have no problem killing my classmate.”

“Because he,” Stain pointed his blade at Iida’s face, “is a fake hero! He must be eliminated!”

Todoroki frowned, confusion on his face. “Iida isn’t fake. He is right there.”

Izuku bit back his laugh. Only Todoroki could be so clueless.

Stain stammered. “Yes, he is obviously real! But that is not what I meant. He isn’t a real hero.”

“Yes, we’re only students.”

Stain yelled in frustration. “You don’t get it! He sought me out intentionally.”

“Is that not what heroes do? Fight villains and save people?”

“Why you little-”

Izuku decided to take advantage of the chaos. He timed his jump so he would land on Stain. They both fell. Izuku twisted himself out of Stain’s grasp and scrambled to his feet. He rushed over to Todoroki and pulled out his knife.

“What the hell?” Stain grumbled as he stood up. He seemed to relax a little upon seeing who tackled him. “Kumo. It’s always nice to see a fellow vigilante. If you would, step aside so I can cull these two.”

Izuku wasn’t surprised to hear that Stain knew of him, but he didn’t like being compared to the murderer. “You’re not a vigilante,” he said, falling into a fighting stance, “and I won’t let you kill my friends.”

Stain chuckled. “Very well.” He held out his swords in front of him. “Let’s end this, then.”

He charged.

Chapter Text

Three things happened at once.

Stain ran at them, weapons drawn. Izuku pulled out his own knife and jumped to the side, narrowly missing the sharp blade aiming for his stomach. Todoroki’s left side burst into flames.

Stain reared back, using his blades to block some of the heat. He was quick to attack again. He jumped through the flames, grimacing as the flames bit his shoulders and burned the bandages wrapped around his arms.

He swung his blades at Izuku. Izuku brought up his own knife just in time to block it. The force of two blades forcing their way down pushed him back. His knife slipped from Stain’s weapons, but before they could do any damage, he rolled under Stain’s legs. He took the chance to swing his knife behind the man’s knees. However, the villain quickly spun around and delivered a kick to Izuku’s stomach.

The vigilante was sent sprawling across the concrete, irritating his previous injuries. His hands wobbled as he got to his knees. More flames danced around the fight, a sign that Todoroki was still up and engaged. There were a few shots of ice attempting to strap Stain’s feet to the ground, but the man was too fast and the heat around them kept the ice from staying for long.

Izuku sighed as he stood up. This was why he talked (yelled) at Todoroki during their battle during the sports festival. Since he had a 4-year-old’s control ability over his fire, he couldn’t regulate it well.

“Kumo!” Iida yelled from where he was still on the ground, “Todoroki-kun! I cannot ask you to stay and fight!” 

“Do you really think we would just abandon you?” Todoroki asked as he dodged more of Stain’s attacks.

“This is my battle, not yours!” Iida argued.

Izuku looked over at where Iida laid on the ground. “I’m a vigilante, everything is my battle.”

Iida shouted in annoyance. Izuku ignored it. As Izuku looked for an opening to take advantage of, his attention was drawn towards a figure leaning against the wall of one of the buildings. He recognized the attire and gasped. It was the Pro Hero Native. He ran over to him.

The hero was conscious, but just barely. He struggled to open his eyes to see who came over to him. He coughed, specks of blood coming out of his mouth. Izuku knelt in front of him.

“Where are you hurt?” Izuku asked, frantically looking all over for wounds. Native’s arm tightening around his abdomen gave the answer. Izuku looked up and met Todoroki’s eyes. He pointed at the fire and ice user and then Native.

Todoroki nodded, and drew Stain over to Izuku. Stain luckily hadn’t figured out their plan.

“Get Iida and you permission to use your Quirks,” Izuku whispered as Todoroki picked up Native.

“My father always gives me permission to use my Quirk on patrols.”

Izuku just nodded. He then proceeded to run in the opposite direction in order to keep Stain’s attention. Todoroki slipped away unnoticed.

Stain swung his blade again. Izuku’s hoodie was sliced open, but luckily the fabric was baggy enough that the skin was left untouched. Although, seeing the rage on the villain’s face made him think that next time he wouldn’t miss.

“Kumo!” Iida yelled. Izuku looked over at him. The boy was straining to move, if only barely. It seemed as if Stain’s Quirk was starting to wear off. “Do not let him cut you! I am unsure what his Quirk is, but I collapsed as soon as I was injured.”

Well, Izuku thought, bending his legs, time to slip back into old habits.

He jumped around, focusing solely on the blades. Every time one came near, he dodged. There were a few close calls, and what hair was exposed by his hood was now a few inches shorter. As he continued to move around, his back started itching. He winced as the fabric rubbed up against the raw skin. It was like he was a block of cheese being grated. He ignored it, though. He had to stall until either Todoroki came back or Iida was able to fight again.

Stain appeared to notice that one of his victims had disappeared. He smirked. “It seems like there is hope for you two after all.”

Izuku frowned. Two? Not three? Why leave Iida out of it?

“If you would be so kind,” his sentence was emphasized with a blade close to Izuku’s nose, “and let me kill him, you can leave.”

Izuku ignored Iida’s quiet, “Leave!”

“Are you crazy?” he asked the villain instead. “Of course not!”

Izuku had been too focused on the absurdity of the request that he didn’t have time to duck the incoming blade. He brought up his knife to block, but the weapon sliced his wrist, causing him to let go of his protection.

He looked around. Stain hadn’t gotten near him, so how did he. . . ? He watched as Stain held up the katana by. . . something. Was that fishing thread? It had to be, it shimmered in the light yet Izuku still couldn’t see it. The tip of the blade was coated in crimson. Izuku glanced at his wrist. A line of blood dripped down.

Stain’s tongue darted out, and to Izuku’s morbid fascination with Quirks, licked the blood.

Izuku gasped. His entire body tensed up. His joints locked. With the angle he was at, he felt himself tip backward. He landed with a harsh thud, irritating his wounds once again. He was lucky his head was slightly bent, otherwise he would have hit it.

After watching the vigilante fall to the ground, Stain calmly walked over to Iida. He aimed his blade directly over Iida’s heart.

Izuku gritted his teeth. Stall, stall, how could he stall? Stain liked, or rather hated, who he deemed as false heroes. If he could just keep him talking. . .

The blade was mere inches away from piercing Iida when Izuku called out. “Wait!”

Stain’s katana halted. He turned towards Izuku, visibly annoyed. “What?”

“Your logic is flawed!”

Stain frowned. “Explain.”

Izuku swallowed. “W-well. . . I don’t think you care about true or false heroes, you just want a reason to kill. You call Todoroki and I true heroes because we came to rescue people, and then gave us the choice to leave. If we stay, then you’ll kill us. If we leave, then you’ll just use that as an excuse to kill us in the future because what kind of hero leaves someone who’s injured? Yes, hero society has its flaws and should work on them, but they can’t if you’re killing them! You don’t even give people the chance to change themselves!”

Stain blinked. He sighed. “People who are stuck in habit don’t change. Why should I ever have expected a child to understand?” He angled the weapon. Izuku was going to think up another diversion, but thankfully he didn’t have to. Familiar flames shot towards Stain, causing him to take several steps away from Iida.

“Todoroki-kun?!” Iida announced, only able to look at the boy’s shoes. “I thought you finally left.”

“I brought Native to an ambulance,” was all Todoroki said.

Stain growled, shooting towards Todoroki. He was blocked by a wall of ice. “I thought I finally got rid of one! Why don’t you respect your elders and listen to them?”

Todoroki tipped his head back, narrowly avoiding a katana. “I don’t respect my father, what makes you think you’ll be any different?”

Izuku watched as the two of them fought. Soon, the alley was full of spikes of ice. Stain used that to his advantage and leaped from them, trying to get Todoroki from the top.

Izuu grunted. His body was still so stiff. If only he could just- wait. Did he just? He moved a finger! But how was he able to move before Iida? Was it due to the amount of blood consumed? Iida’s wound was fairly large. But Native’s was bigger and he still wasn’t moving when Todoroki carried him away. Blood type, maybe?

Izuku shook (shook!) his head. It wasn’t like that information would help at the moment. Iida was still out of commission for the time being. He focused his attention back on the scene before him.

Todoroki was faring well against Stain. He took advantage of the long blades and kept close to him. It was hard to get cut if the offender couldn’t raise his arms enough. He used his flames to push the villain back but made spikes of ice to keep him from going too far.

Izuku glanced over at Iida. The boy looked paler. They were running out of time. What could they do?

Wait a minute, Izuku thought. Stain can’t cut anyone if he can’t see.

With Stain distracted, Izuku was able to position himself without drawing attention from the man. He held his arm out and waited for the right moment to strike.

And that moment came in the form of Todoroki pulling his head back as Stain gave up using his katanas and resorted to his nails. Luck must have been on their side, since Stain had moved his right hand rather than the left, thus leaving his face exposed.

He didn’t have time to hesitate. He bent his fingers, letting the webbing free. Stain, after hearing the noise from his gloves, turned his head slightly. It was just enough to cover his eyes. He yelled, dropping his blades in order to tug at it. Izuku wondered why he just didn’t use his blades to cut enough so he could see. Was it his Quirk? Did it work on himself, too? That would make sense. If he accidentally cut himself, he wouldn’t be able to use that weapon in case he accidentally ingested his own blood as well. He couldn’t stop to wipe it off either, because that would leave him vulnerable.

“Todoroki-kun!” Izuku yelled, scrambling to his feet and shoving those questions away. “Now!”

Todoroki nodded, stomping his foot. Instantly, ice sprung from the ground. It went up until Stain was covered, leaving just his neck and head exposed.

The two of them just stood there, taking in what just happened. Izuku and Todoroki looked at each other. Izuku wanted to laugh. They had just taken down an S-rank villain. Izuku was about to let out a cheer when the sound of feet scuffling reached his ears.

He looked over his shoulders and saw Iida struggling to stand up. He leaned against a wall, pressing a hand against his injured shoulder. Izuku and Todoroki rushed over to him. Todoroki took his un-injured arm and put it around his neck. Izuku wrapped his arm around Iida’s waist and steadied him.

Iida coughed. “Todoroki-kun, Kumo,” he said, “I am sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Don’t apologize,” Izuku patted his back gently. “All that matters is you’re okay and Stain is apprehended. Now all we have to do is-”

His sentence was interrupted by a siren coming close to their location. Iida and Izuku shared puzzled looks, while Todoroki sighed. With two pairs of eyes now looking at him, he said, “Native must have informed people of where we were.”

Izuku helped Todoroki bring Iida out of the alley so the paramedics could take him first. Iida was placed on a stretcher and loaded into the first ambulance.

Izuku spun around and made his way over to Stain. The man glared at him when Izuku pulled out his knife. “Are you going to finish me off like a false hero?”

The vigilante’s steps faltered. He swallowed the bile that threatened to come up. He blinked, ignoring the flashes of Nomu brain splattered on the concrete and gravel. His hand shaking, he reached up towards Stain’s face. He pulled most of the webbing away so he could cut it safely. With the remaining stuff, he carefully scraped it away. Luckily there wasn’t any on his eyelids, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to get it off.

A strong heat surrounded him. He turned around. “Ah, Todoroki-kun, are you going to melt hi-” He stopped talking upon seeing who it was. It wasn’t Todoroki. Well, it was, just not the one he expected. He swallowed, meeting the eyes of Endeavor. “Hello, Endeavor-san.”

The man didn’t reply, but instead placed a hot hand on Izuku’s shoulder and pushed him out of the way. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. Izuku didn’t miss the way Stain’s eyes were now locked onto the hero. The intimidation of his glare doubled.

Izuku decided to book it out of there. He didn’t want Endeavor to make good on his threat from earlier. The moment he left the alley, a paramedic swarmed him. She had him sit on a stretcher while she did her job.

“Shouto told us you were fighting Stain the longest,” the taller paramedic said. She placed the aid bag next to him. “Where are your injuries?”

“Most of them are from earlier,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I have a road rash on my back. My throat is bruised, there’s a cut on my wrist.” His hand moved to his shoulder. “And I think I have a burn on my shoulder.”

The paramedic nodded, telling him that since they weren’t life threatening she could treat them now. “Are you able to take off your top? Otherwise I’ll have to cut it in order to treat it properly.”

Izuku un-clipped his fanny pack before taking off the hoodie. It was a slow process, since the strain in his arms were too much and the tiniest rubbing of fabric made his back ache. But he got it. He let it drop behind him. He stared down at his abdomen. He winced. It was littered with bruises from when Stain kicked him. If he squinted, it appeared to take on the shape of a boot.

His burn was treated first. A cool, wet dressing was placed on it before the paramedic lightly wrapped it. She then had him lay down on his stomach. “This will hurt,” she said, “but I have to get the bits of dirt and gravel out.”

Izuku was about to ask what she meant when it suddenly felt like his back was on fire. He groaned. He quickly took off his gloves so he could ball his hands into fists. The paramedic continued rubbing a wet cloth over his back.

It only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panting when she was done. She laid a large, wet dressing over the wound but didn’t wrap it. She then strapped him into the stretcher, being mindful of where the straps were placed. With Izuku secure in the back of the ambulance with the other paramedic, they were off to the hospital.

                                                 _______________________

Izuku woke up to the sound of beeping heart monitors and the smell of disinfectant. He blinked, despite his eyes protesting. His arms were laying in front of him on the soft pillow. He flexed his fingers, trying to get the blood flow back. His muscles ached and his back burned.

He moved to sit up, but the sight of an IV in his arm stopped him. Instead, he raised his head to look around. The curtain near his bed was pulled open. Looking around the hospital room, he saw two other beds. The one on his left held Iida, the one on his right had Todoroki. They both appeared to be sleeping. He wondered what time it was.

He looked around the bed. His hoodie was folded up by the head of the bed with his fanny pack laying on top of it. He reached down to grab it, and he unzipped it. He dug around until he pulled out his phone. He turned it on. It was almost nine in the morning.

He was about to put the phone away when he froze. He looked at the lock screen as it turned black. That wasn’t his phone. His lock screen was a picture of Mei after an explosion blew up in her face. The photo on the device he held was of a familiar blond cockatoo with milk spewing out of his nose.

The events from the past night came rushing back to him. The octopus Quirked villain. Hosu. The Nomu. Stain. Eraserhead.

Oh god, Eraserhead.

Izuku swallowed. With shaking fingers, he turned on the phone and unlocked it. He frowned. He should really tell the man to put in a password. He opened the messages app and pulled up the contact labeled “Zashi”. Obviously, he knew who it was but he had to pretend he didn’t in case Aizawa ever saw this.

Sho: I have Eraserhead’s phone. Who is this?

Zashi: depends, who’s this?

Izuku decided to send a picture of himself.

Zashi: oh you’re awake. He’ll be fine. He’s getting discharged tomorrow morning

Sho: Tell him I’m sorry when he wakes up.

Izuku chose at that time to turn off the phone and put it back in the fanny pack. He was placing it back onto his hoodie when someone groaned. Izuku glanced up, seeing Iida sit up in his bed. Iida blinked a few times before sighing and burying his face into one of his hands. Izuku noticed that his arms were wrapped up, with his left one being held against his chest.

Guilt struck Izuku’s heart. He cursed at himself inside his head. If only he had been faster. First Aizawa, now Iida? How many more people were going to get hurt because of him?

As if sensing Izuku’s inner turmoil, Iida lifted his head and stared at Izuku.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Iida frowned. “What are you sorry for?”

“Not being fast enough.”

“You could not have possibly known what was happening, Kumo,” Iida said. His arms jerked a bit, and Iida lightly scowled. He was holding himself back from doing his usual chopping motions. “I am the one who should be sorry. You two jumped into my mess to save me, and I couldn’t do anything to help.”

Izuku sighed. “You messed up,” he agreed, ignoring Iida’s shocked expression, “but all that’s left is to learn and grow from it.”

Iida nodded and proceeded to bow as low as he could without pulling on his bandages. “I will! I promise to never make the same mistake again.”

Izuku placed a hand under his chin, propping it up. “I don’t know if I would call a dip into vigilantism a mistake.”

He almost laughed at the way Iida froze. His eyes were wide under his glasses. Izuku could practically see him shut down and reboot. Error sounds played in his head.

“I suppose. . .” Iida pushed his glasses up. “That I should apologize for the way I treated you when we first met.”

Izuku tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I called you a criminal.”

Izuku waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called much worse.” Iida did not look comforted at that. “But hey! If being a hero doesn’t work out, I’d love a partner in crime!”

Iida shifted awkwardly. “I do not know if I would go that far. But thank you for the offer.”

Izuku grinned under his mask. Their conversation was cut short by the other inhabitant in the room waking up. Todoroki didn’t make any noise as he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. His eyes landed on the two classmates, his mouth turning into an o-shape as he seemed to remember what happened.

Iida cleared his throat. “Please allow me to apologize, Todoroki-kun!” He bowed again. Izuku wanted to snort at how uncomfortable Todoroki looked. “As I said to Kumo-kun,” Izuku felt his heart swell at the edition of the honorific, “I promise to never do this again!”

Todoroki frowned. “I don’t think that will be possible. Stain is behind bars.”

Iida stuttered. “Well, I just meant that. . .”

As Iida explained what he meant, Izuku heard footsteps approach their door.

“Todoroki-kun,” Izuku whispered, “did you get Iida permission from Native to use his Quirk?”

“Yes.”

Izuku nodded. All talking ceased when the door slid open. Two people stepped in; a man with a dog head, and a familiar looking detective.

“Hello, boys. Woof,” the man said. “I hope you are recovering well.” Iida and Izuku verbally responded while Todoroki just nodded. “I am Tsuragamae, chief of police, and this is detective Tsukauchi.”

Izuku waved at the detective, who looked like he aged ten years just by looking at the vigilante. Izuku grinned.

“I understand that talking about a traumatic event so soon after it happened is hard,” Tsuragamae said, “but we need to talk about how we’re going to approach this. Since you three went against the orders of your interns to fight the Hero Killer, there is going to be some kind of punishment.”

Iida looked horrified. Izuku wasn’t really surprised. Todoroki, on the other hand, looked uncharacteristically outraged. The red and white haired boy jumped off his bed and approached the chief.

“You say that,” he began, “yet you know that if it wasn’t for us, then two people would be dead and the Hero Killer would still be free?”

Tsuragamae tilted his head. “I am aware, woof. But there still needs to be a punishment since what you did was illegal.”

“But we stopped a serial killer!” Todoroki yelled, throwing his hands up. “We saved two people and you’re saying we’re in trouble?”

“Are you saying that it’s alright to break the laws if the outcome is in your favor?”

“Maybe I am!”

“That is a dangerous path to go down, Todoroki, woof. But, if you had let me finish then you would have heard me say that I don’t disagree with what you did. But you still broke the law and the Hero Commission would have my job if I didn’t do anything.” Tsuragamae gestured for Todoroki to sit back down. The boy begrudgingly listened. “Now, the plan is to give all credit to Endeavor since he was seen there after the battle.”

Todoroki bristled at the mention of his father. Iida seemed to accept that. Izuku decided to speak up.

“Actually,” he raised his hand as best as he could, “we didn’t break the law.” Tsuragamae looked over at Tsukauchi, who didn’t say anything but motioned for Izuku to continue. “I was acting under Principal Nezu's orders. He said I can continue doing my vigilante thing as long as it was something I've fought in the past. I’ve fought killers before.”

(Somewhere, miles away, a white creature sneezed. He proceeded to cackle.)

Tsukauchi nodded, confirming what was being said.

“Todoroki told me that he always has permission from his father to use his Quirk during patrols,” Izuku continued, a hint of smugness growing in his voice as Tsukauchi once again confirmed it as true. “And Iida was given permission from Native. So we’ll gladly take credit.”

The two adults looked at each other. Tsukauchi’s mouth was open like a gaping fish. Tsuragamae made snorts under his breath that Izuku took as laughter. Izuku hoped that Tsukauchi would be too stunned to ask why or when Iida was given permission. If he did, then Iida would get in trouble.

“Alright, woof. Then the only thing left to do is to get statements. Since you’re all minors, your names will not be mentioned in any articles unless stated otherwise. Once we gather your statements, you’ll be released into the custody of your mentors, woof.”

Todoroki was the first to go since he was the least injured. He was led out by Tsukauchi. When the man came back, Iida was next. Since Izuku wasn’t really capable of moving at the moment, his interview was last since he would be the only one left in the room.

After asking if he had to talk about the entire night or just the Stain battle and being told just Stain, he willingly gave answers. He was asked the usual; age, Quirk, hero name, whether or not he wanted his name in the articles. Then he was asked to retell the entire fight with as much detail as he could. He started with him finding Manual yelling for Iida and ended with Endeavor coming onto the scene.

“Thank you, Kumo,” Tsukauchi said, turning off his recorder and closing his notebook. “Since Eraserhead is currently in the hospital as well, you’ll be released to another trusted hero.”

“How is he?” Izuku asked grimly, not meeting the detective’s eyes.

Tsukauchi seemed to debate telling him or not before sighing. “If he had hit his head any harder, his skull could have fractured.” Izuku fought back the sob that threatened to force its way out. “There’s extensive bruising, and he broke his elbow.”

Izuku nodded. He thanked him. Tsukauchi left the room.

A nurse came in to let him know that his guardian was here, whoever that was going to be. She helped him sit up and instructed him to sleep on his stomach until the majority of the scabbing goes away. She also suggested loose shirts like tank tops until the tenderness was gone, which should be at least two weeks.

As she went through the steps of cleaning the wound and changing the dressings, the room door opened. A familiar blond stepped in. Yamada smiled and waved. After laying down a new dressing, the nurse turned and relaid the same information to Yamada.

Izuku shrugged on his hoodie as Yamada and the nurse spoke. He just held his fanny pack instead of reclipping it. He would just have to take it off again when they got home.

Since Yamada took care of the discharge papers before coming to grab him, they were able to leave right away. The car ride was silent save for the quiet music coming from the radio. Izuku took off his mask once they were far enough away from the hospital.

He could feel the pressure building up behind his eyes. He blinked furiously. He didn’t want to cry in the car. He wanted to wait until he was in the safety of his own room.

What felt like hours was really only fifteen minutes. Yamada pulled into the driveway. Izuku unbuckled and all but flew from the car, barely remembering to shut the door. He knelt down to undo the laces on his boots, but his vision was starting to get blurry and he couldn’t see where he was grabbing.

Yamada knelt in front of him. He gently pried Izuku’s hands away from his boots and untied them himself.

Izuku didn’t know if it was the action or the identical expression of grief on his face that broke him, but before he knew he jumped into the older man’s arms and sobbed.

Chapter Text

Izuku wasn’t surprised to hear that the rest of his internship was cancelled. He had been ordered for bed rest until Monday when he went back to school. Hitoshi had texted him, asking if he was alright but Izuku currently did not have the mental space for that conversation.

So here he was, laying stomach down on the couch and surfing through the TV channels. As much as he hated thinking about it, he was thankful that Yamada was making Aizawa stay in the hospital until Saturday. That way, Izuku would be able to let himself heal without worry and the scabs and bruises on his back could have more air.

Izuku shifted. The tape on the bandages pulled at his skin. He continued looking through the channels when he landed on the news. Normally, he would have passed it but the current segment made him stop. It was coverage of the Stain fight.

Izuku swallowed. He wanted to look away, to change the station, but his eyes wouldn’t move. For the past two days, nearly every news channel was talking about the fight. Most of the stations praised Kumo, while some of the more Quirkist ones favored Endeavor’s arrest. Their subtle jabs washed over Izuku. He’d been bullied and harassed since the age of four, the least they could do was come up with better insults.

Izuku stared at the TV, watching the shaky phone footage that someone had sent in. It was a video of Kumo and Todoroki before they got to Stain’s location. The video started on Todoroki, but upon realizing who else was there, quickly changed to focus on Kumo running across the rooftops. The camera didn’t pick up on Todoroki’s funny words, instead it cut right to Kumo jumping off the roof and landing on Stain.

The filmer swore and tried to get closer, but something off camera caught their attention. The camera turned, and something knocked into the person. The video cut off as they screamed.

The next clip the newscaster showed was the aftermath. Izuku’s attention peaked. He had been in the ambulance, so he hadn’t seen what happened. Endeavor marched out of the alley, dragging Stain with him. The quality of the camera was much better, so Izuku assumed a professional camera crew had arrived.

“As requested,” the newscaster speaking over the video said, “the identity of two of the interns responsible for the arrest have remained hidden, although the vigilante known as Kumo has ,quote, ‘gladly taken credit over Endeavor.’”

Izuku squirmed a little on the couch, reaching for his phone that was stuck in his pocket. The class group chat had been blowing up ever since the incident. Iida tried to get everyone to back off and to “let Kumo rest.” Izuku was pretty sure Todoroki had muted the chat. Izuku had yet to respond.

He exited out of the group chat and scrolled through the other contacts he had yet to respond to. Mei had been in hysterics when the news broke out, spamming him until she came to the conclusion that if he had died, there was no way it wouldn’t have reached the internet.

Hitoshi had been a little more subdued. He started with saying that his training with Aizawa had been put on hold, followed up with a “but ig you knew that.” Then he asked if Izuku was alright.

Izuku shot back a quick confirmation to both of them that he was indeed alive. It was almost three in the afternoon, so Izuku knew he wouldn’t get a response for at least 30 minutes.

He sighed and let his phone fall from his hand. It landed in front of him. He turned his attention back to the news, which had now switched stories. The newscaster was covering a recent robbery. Izuku sighed. The store was nearby, too. If he wasn’t stuck in the house, he could have stopped it. 

He was tempted to change the channel, but he wanted to know what was going on while he was out of commission.

Izuku stretched his arms in front of him. He winced as he felt the scabs pull. His injuries seemed to be faring pretty well for the most part. The cut on his wrist was still scabbed but it wasn’t that noticeable. The bruising on his torso was no longer black and blue, but was now that yellow-green shade. The bruising on his neck was gone, too.

Out of all of his injuries, he was glad that one healed first. He didn’t want to wear turtlenecks around the house when summer was approaching. He didn’t even have any, so they’d have to go shopping anyway.

Izuku didn’t realize how fast time had gone by until he heard the sound of the front door unlocking. He propped his head up and watched Yamada walk through the door. The man slipped off his shoes and headed towards the couch.

“Hey, Midoriya,” he said. He glanced at the TV. “Boring day, huh?”

Izuku nodded.

“I remember you were on the couch before I left.” Yamada perched himself on the arm of the couch, looking down at Izuku. “Have you even moved?”

“I got up for the bathroom and lunch,” Izuku replied. “I want to be able to enjoy my last few hours of freedom before I hole myself up in my room.”

Yamada frowned, eyes shifting to the bandages. “You wouldn’t have to do that if you just told him.”

Izuku buried his face between his arms. He wanted to. He really did. But the man had already been through so much recently. He was afraid that would be the last straw and Izuku would be kicked out. He just needed more time.

He voiced that to Yamada, minus the kicking part. The voice hero just sighed and patted Izuku’s calf before wandering off. He quickly returned, however, and Izuku heard the sound of a cap popping off it’s tube.

“I can do that myself,” Izuku muttered, though he didn’t move.

Yamada laughed. “You say that, yet every time you end up dragging yourself over because you can’t reach.”

Izuku grumbled but didn’t deny it. Yamada carefully peeled off the bandages. Izuku tensed up when the cool air hit his skin. For the next few seconds, nothing happened as Yamada scanned the wound for any sign of infection. Finding none, he put a dollop of ointment in between Izuku’s shoulder blades.

Izuku tried not to squirm as the ointment was massaged into his scabs. As much as he didn’t like the feeling of something gooey spreading across his skin (all he could feel was blood, blood on his face, dripping down his fingers, why won’t it stop?), the gentle fingers and soft rubbing did help him relax.

The process lasted two minutes. Yamada replaced the bandages with fresh ones. He leaned back. Izuku could feel his eyes on him, as if he was trying to read the young vigilante.

Yamada snapped his fingers. “I know just the way to get your mind off things!”

Izuku looked over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

“We need to go grocery shopping,” Yamada explained, hopping off the couch, “why not get ingredients to make Sho a welcome home dinner tomorrow?”

Izuku thought it over, before shrugging and getting off the couch. He grabbed a blue hoodie of his that he had tossed onto the floor earlier. He tugged it over his torso before walking over to the front door.

Yamada had already put his shoes back on, and was waiting eagerly for Izuku.

Once they were both ready, they headed outside.

                                                               ___________________

Izuku thought he would be ready to see Aizawa again. He was wrong.

So, very wrong.

It was 4:30 in the evening. Yamada texted him ten minutes before they got back to the house. Izuku holed himself up in the bathroom, double checking everything. The bruising on his stomach was almost gone, the cut on his wrist wasn’t noticeable but Izuku could still feel it if he rubbed a finger over it.

A few moments later, Izuku heard the front door close and murmuring voices. He took a deep breath and looked at Blizzard, who had bolted into the bathroom before Izuku could shut the door. Blizzard was there for moral support.

He shooed the cat off the counter before opening the door. Blizzard ran down the hallway after hearing the sound of Aizawa’s voice. Izuku followed slowly behind.

“I can walk just fine, ‘Zashi,” Aizawa grumbled. Yamada had slung Aizawa’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped the other around his waist. “It’s just my head.”

Yamada sighed, clearly exasperated. “We are not having this conversation again, Sho.” He led Aizawa over to the couch. Yamada caught Izuku’s eyes and waved him over.

“How are you doing, Aizawa-san?” Izuku asked as he approached.

“I’ll be fine,” Aizawa assured. He tilted his head back so it rested against the couch and closed his eyes. “‘Zashi’s overreacting .”

Yamada sputtered. “You’re underreacting! The doctors said you had one of the worst concussions they’ve ever seen! Your skull could’ve been fractured!”

Izuku took a step back, alarmed at the uncharacteristic display of fury. Izuku and Aizawa both knew it wasn’t directed at the injured man, but it was still a shock to witness.

Yamada sighed. He sat down next to his husband and leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. “I just. . . I worry. Especially since it hasn’t even been a full semester since your last head injury.” Aizawa wrapped an arm around Yamada’s waist, pulling him close. “I don’t want you to end up like. . .”

Aizawa shushed him. He shifted so he could properly hug the man. Izuku swallowed. He slowly walked backwards. As much as he wanted to stay and make sure Aizawa was actually alright, he knew the two needed their moment.

Later that night, Izuku hopped out his bedroom window and took off, donned in his gear. He could practically hear everyone’s nagging should they find out he was ignoring his doctor’s orders. He just couldn’t handle staying inside anymore. He tried ignoring the ever rising feeling of guilt, and it worked for a while. But when night would arrive, there was nothing he could distract himself with. Staying inside meant facing his thoughts and emotions. He wasn’t quite ready for that.

Keeping his injury in mind, he didn’t go sprinting across rooftops. Instead, he just strolled down the street.

He rolled his sleeves up. Summer was coming soon so it was starting to get hotter out. He wondered if he should get a short sleeved shirt with the same design. He never did in the past, but that was because he wasn’t as buff as he was now. U.A. had really helped build his muscles in a way that nightly patrols couldn’t.

Izuku peeked into every alley he passed, checking for any criminals that his ears couldn’t catch first. As he turned the corner, he heard something metal fall. Up ahead was someone standing in front of a store. At first, Izuku thought it was a potential robber but that was corrected when he saw them spray the wall.

He tilted his head. In his few years as a vigilante, he’d come across multiple vandalists, but never a graffiti artist. He approached slowly, not wanting to scare them off. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and watched them work.

As they did, he mentally went through what charges they would get. He didn’t know the history of the vandal, but he figured they must be pretty new since he hasn’t seen any graffiti around. So they’d probably get slapped with a fine and a warning.

Logic told him that he should have called the police, but looking at the art made him pause. It was a caricature of Endeavor. The man’s body was huge and his head was incredibly small, roughly the size of the hand that was painted. His mouth was open, as if he was yelling. There were squiggles next to him and behind were small “ha’s”.

“You have good skills,” Izuku said.

The person jumped and spun around. Upon seeing who was in front of them, they groaned. “Shit, my mom’s gonna kill me,” they muttered. “I guess you’re going to arrest me.”

Izuku sighed, kicking at the ground. “I should, I really should. But my back hurts and I wanna see this finished.”

Izuku could see them grin under their mask, their ears rose up and the corners of their eyes crinkled. They tossed a can towards him, and Izuku scrambled to catch it.

“A fellow Endeavor hater should help with the final product,” was the explanation he got. Izuku shook his head. He really shouldn’t be breaking the law, he claimed. It would be hypocritical of him.

“How about this,” the artist said. They grabbed his hand, the one that held the spray paint, and directed it towards the wall. They pressed down on the nozzle and began painting letters.

When they were done, Izuku’s hand was dropped. “There!” they exclaimed, gesturing to the words, “now you can deny that you willingly vandalised the wall.”

Written in black paint and a blocky style was, “Fuck you, Endeavor.”

The artist went on to explain the meaning behind it. Well, not the meaning per se but rather why they painted the hero the way they did. Endeavor’s all muscle and no brains, so that was why the head was small compared to the body. The laughs behind him are civilians laughing at him while he spews nonsense.

Izuku nodded along. He understood and agreed with everything that was being said.

The artist looked at him. “Are you really not going to arrest me?”

Izuku shook his head. “All I ask is that you do your art on cardboard rather than other people’s property.”

They smiled. “Deal!”

Izuku ended up staying out for another few hours. As much as he needed a distraction, he was glad that it had been a quiet night. His back was starting to itch from the hoodie moving the bandage, causing it to rub against the wound.

He was tired when he got back. A glance at his clock told him it was almost four in the morning. He was lucky it was still the weekend. Three hours of sleep before school wouldn’t do anyone any good.

He got back into his pajamas. He prepared to climb into bed and go to sleep when he paused. Worry gnawed at his stomach. He let go of the blanket and walked over to the bedroom door. He could hear Yamada’s snoring upstairs.

Izuku quickly made his way to their bedroom. He tiptoed down the hallway. Cracking open their door, he poked his head inside. It was hard to see, but he could make out the two adults’ shapes.

Yamada was star-fished on top of the blanket with one hand thrown over the lump that was Aizawa. Izuku averted his eyes. He never wanted to see a teacher in their underwear again.

Aizawa laid on his back. Upon seeing the man shift slightly, Izuku let out a sigh of relief. He slipped back into the hallway and made his way back to his own bedroom.

Now that he confirmed that Aizawa was indeed still alive, Izuku could sleep semi-peacefully.

                                                                 ________________

It was Monday, and Izuku’s first day back at school in a week. He turned off the alarm on his phone and sat up. His back ached slightly. He must’ve rolled onto it while he slept.

Hobbling to the bathroom, he slowed down as he heard two voices coming from the kitchen. He peered down the hallway.

“Honestly, Sho,” Yamada said, moving throughout the kitchen, “if it was up to me I’d have to stay home until you’ve fully recovered.”

Izuku tensed. Aizawa mumbled something the teenager couldn’t make out.

“I know,” Yamada answered. “You didn’t listen last time, I don’t know why I thought now would be any different. Though, I’m sure Nezu would agree with me that you shouldn’t help with heroics.”

Aizawa let out a defeated sigh before nodding.

Izuku hurried into the bathroom before he drew the attention of the adults. He locked the door. Free from lingering eyes, he pulled off his shirt. Carefully, he peeled off the medical tape holding his bandage in place. It didn’t hurt too badly since it was partially a mix of him being used to it and sweat from the blanket getting underneath.

Once he successfully got it off, he grabbed a handheld mirror and put his back to the sink. Using the hand mirror, he was able to see the scabs. They had definitely healed a lot more, but his plan was to visit Recovery Girl to get them fully healed.

He went through his morning routine and showering, brushing his teeth, ignoring his hair because that would be a nightmare to brush through, and getting dressed.

Walking into the kitchen, he was met with Yamada and Aizawa sitting at the table. Yamada greeted him with a good morning.

Aizawa just sipped his coffee and asked, “What were you doing in our room last night?”

It didn’t sound accusatory, but Izuku still froze. 

Yamada tilted his head in confusion. “He was in our room?” That sounded accusatory.

“If you stopped snoring you would’ve heard him.”

Izuku swallowed. “I’m sorry. I just. . . wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

He probably should have made up an excuse. Maybe claim an upset stomach but decided he didn’t want to bother them. Anything would’ve been better than the reactions he got.

Yamada was grief-stricken. He looked close to tears. Aizawa had gone tense and wouldn’t make eye contact with either of them.

“Isn’t it time for us to head out, ‘Zashi?” Aizawa asked.

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be time for them to leave for another twenty minutes. But Yamada could clearly feel the tension as well. “Yeah.”

Aizawa stood up from his chair. He didn’t even bother putting the coffee mug in the sink, instead he took it with him as he walked over to the front door. The man put his shoes on silently.

Yamada stared at Izuku before giving the teenager an unsure smile and heading over to his husband. Izuku watched them exit the house. He sighed. Today was shaping up to be a bad day.

When he arrived at U.A., he received stares. Luckily everyone left him alone, at least for the first half of the day. It was after their English class. Izuku was packing up his things before he headed to lunch when he was asked to stay behind.

The room now empty except for him and Present Mic, Izuku made his way to the podium.

“If it’s about last night, I’m sorry,” Izuku said, hanging his head. “I just needed to make sure.”

“It is about last night, but not that.” Izuku looked up, confused. “What’s with the late patrols, Midoriya?”

Izuku curled in on himself. “I felt too cooped up,” he tried.

The man snorted softly. “You’re not a good liar.” He reached out and placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Izuku shook his head. “I don’t think you can help with this.”

“Try me.”

And so he did. He explained the fear while on top of the Nomu’s shoulders, the dread of seeing Aizawa laying so still. He spoke of the images he saw every time he closed his eyes. That the only way his anxiety could be settled was to physically see Aizawa moving, and even then it didn’t last long.

When he was done, Izuku raised his head. Present Mic appeared troubled. He had a pensive expression, as if he had been reminded of something. Izuku could have sworn he heard the man mumble a name. Shira-who?

Izuku didn’t have time to dwell on it, since Present Mic began to speak.

“I think I should ground you from going out,” he said, “it’s not healthy.”

Izuku sputtered. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. “What?” he asked. “But if I don’t, then people will die!”

The voice hero knelt down so he was eye level with Izuku. “You’re just a kid!” he argued, his eyes pleading. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. You should worry about teenager things like homework or pretty girls or school rumors.”

Izuku shrugged his hands off. He didn’t understand. Sure, the man was a hero, of course he’s faced hardships. But Izuku highly doubted he ever nearly got his mentor killed. Twice .

“You can’t stop me,” he said. “I have Nezu’s permission.”

“I would think that as your guardian what I say goes above a principal.”

“You’re not my legal guardian, though,” Izuku countered. The brief look of hurt that crossed Present Mic’s face was enough to increase the amount of guilt Izuku had.

“. . . Would you like to go see Shouta?” Present Mic asked. “You said that it’ll make you feel better.”

Izuku nodded. The hero stood up and led him out of the classroom. As they walked, Izuku couldn’t help but send glances towards the man. He had a thoughtful look that Izuku couldn’t decipher the meaning of.

It didn’t matter in that moment. Izuku was content to just let it pass and finish the day.

Chapter Text

Running into Eraserhead on patrol was jarring to say the least. Izuku was just minding his own business, sitting on the edge of a roof while he rested. It was his third patrol since Recovery Girl healed him, but he still felt antsy so he had been running a lot during his time outside. His legs were starting to feel the burn.

He swung his legs back and forth as he stared at the neighborhood. It was nearly midnight. He’d have to head back in an hour if he wanted enough sleep to function the next day.

He’d been having nightmares lately. Mostly about Hosu or Nomu. That was why he started being more active. He wanted to make his body so tired that there were no nightmares. It didn’t work, he would wake up an hour later and stay awake. He kept trying anyway, even if it was starting to affect him at school.

He sighed and leaned back, letting gravity take over. He landed on the roof with a thud, his arms splaying out. He stared at the night sky. Crickets chirped and whatever birds were still awake flew by.

He raised an arm when a familiar thud came from the left side of the building. “Hey, Eraser.” He was surprised it had taken them this long to run into each other, considering Recovery Girl had cleared him for patrol the Monday Izuku returned to school.

He watched as the man approached him. Eraserhead pulled down his goggles so they hung around his neck. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Izuku pulled his legs down and sat up. “Did you get your phone back?” he asked instead of saying the obvious answer of yes.

“I did.”

Izuku nodded, and continued to watch the town. They sat, or stood, in a tension filled silence. Izuku looked up at Eraserhead, only to find the man looking back at him.

“I’m sorry-“

“Present Mic said-“

They both paused.

“You go-“

“-first.”

Izuku ducked his head. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What for?” Eraserhead asked.

“My stupid idea almost got you killed.”

“It was reckless,” Eraserhead agreed. Izuku whimpered. “But it also saved lives.”

Izuku shook his head. How wasn’t he getting it? Heroes were supposed to protect, not kill. He killed that Nomu! He could still hear its roars and feel its claws digging into his legs. How could he possibly expect to be a hero if he let his emotions take over?

“What about me?”

Izuku looked up. “Huh?” He hadn’t realized he said those thoughts out loud.

Eraserhead sighed, moving to sit down next to Izuku. “You know that the underground is full of the worst kinds of villains, right?” Izuku nodded. “Then I’m sure you know that underground heroes have to make the tough choice between being morally correct and making sure those villains can’t hurt anyone again. So I’ll ask again; what about me?”

Izuku frowned. “That’s different,” he argued, knowing how weak it was. Logically, he knew there was no difference. But his brain refused to let him agree.

Eraserhead raised an eyebrow. “How?” Izuku refused to make eye contact. Something beeped from Eraserhead’s pocket. The hero pulled out his phone and sighed upon seeing what it was. He lifted his goggles up and stood. He looked down at the vigilante who hadn’t moved. “Are you tagging along?”

Izuku shook his head. “School tomorrow.” He really wanted to, but he wasn’t in the right headspace. If he followed along, he didn’t trust himself to not pull another stunt like Hosu. It was too soon to be fighting next to Eraserhead.

The hero nodded. The two said goodbye, and Eraserhead went back to his job. Izuku sighed and forced himself to stand up. He wiped the dust from the roof off his pants. He could just go off on his own like usual, but running into Eraser wasn’t his only fear. He was scared he’d mistake any victim he was saving for him or the villain for the Nomu.

He should talk to someone. Hound Dog, maybe?

He scratched his neck. That was Future Izuku’s problem. Right now, he just wanted to crawl into bed and hope it was a nightmare free night.

                                                                  ___________________

Izuku was glad it was summer. Now not only could he ruin his sleep schedule with patrols, but he could also finally hang out with his friends for more than a few hours. Which was what he was doing now. He told Aizawa and Yamada that he was going to be at his friend's place for a few hours, and sent Hitoshi the address for Mei’s warehouse. He figured that since they both knew of Kumo, it was time for them to meet. And Izuku was getting a little tired of being Mei’s only guinea pig.

Izuku grinned as he stared down at his phone while he walked, reading the confirmation text from Hitoshi. It’s been a while since he hung out with Mei without it being Kumo related. He just hoped the two got along.

When he arrived at the warehouse, he was met with Hitoshi at the double doors. He was staring with concern as various noises could be heard on the other side. He turned to Izuku. “Are you sure this isn’t a trap?”

Izuku nodded. “You would think that with summer here, she would take a break.”

Hitoshi scoffed. “I heard she blew up the doors on the third day of school. I don’t think she knows what a break is.”

The two boys jumped when a new voice interrupted. “If you’re going to gossip about me, I’d like you to do it inside so I can confirm or deny anything.”

Izuku sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Mei had shoved open the doors. As usual, she had her safety goggles on her forehead and she was nearly covered head to toe in dust and paint. What was surprising, however, was the fire extinguisher in her hands.

“Uh, Mei,” Izuku said, “what happened?”

“Just a little smoke, that’s all.”

Hitoshi sent Izuku a bewildered look. Izuku just shrugged, giving him a look that said, “What can you do?”, and followed the girl inside. Hitoshi began taking a tour of the place. Hitoshi attempted to study whatever blueprints were left out. Izuku could understand that. He spent his first time in the warehouse doing the same thing; trying to understand what went on in Mei’s mind. He’s known her for nearly three years and still couldn’t do it.

“How was your final practical exam, Mei?” Izuku asked. He’d already asked about Hitoshi’s, and it sounded a lot similar to the written tests he took.

“Oh it went great,” she exclaimed, snapping her goggles back into place. “I have a rival, now!”

“A rival?” Hitoshi asked.

Mei rolled up a blueprint. “Yep!” She stuffed it in her back pocket. “She made a bigger explosion on the last day during our down time so naturally I have to make an even bigger one and establish dominance.”

Hitoshi walked over to Izuku. “Is she always like this?” he whispered.

Izuku nodded.

“What about you, Izuku?” Mei asked.

“Oh yeah, you never told me about yours,” Hitoshi said.

Izuku laughed nervously. “Yeah. . . that. I was just. . .” Emotionally recovering from nearly being impaled by a fence from All Might. “Resting. We had to fight the teachers. I was paired with Kacchan.”

Hitoshi frowned. “Isn’t that the blond kid from when we first met? Why did they think that was a good idea?”

Izuku shrugged. “Aizawa-san said that the match ups were based on our flaws. The best I can think of is that Kacchan needed to learn that power isn’t everything, and I needed to learn how to logically beat opponents many times stronger than me.” He rubbed his shoulder. He could still feel a ghost of Kacchan’s misplaced explosion.

“That explains why I had to repair your costume. Hey,” Mei looked up from her work, “why didn’t you wear your official costume in Hosu?”

“Do you really expect me to be able to hide a giant case in my room?” Izuku countered. “I live with two teachers from our school.” Granted, one of the teachers had found out during the internship but his point still stood.

“Fair enough.”

Comfortable silence fell across the trio. Hitoshi resumed looking at each table. Mei went back to her gadget. Izuku was content to just bask in the company of his friends. 

But then something appeared to go wrong with it, as Mei cursed under her breath. Izuku frowned, leaning slightly forward to observe the girl. She rarely ever swore.

He noticed that despite the sparkles in her eyes, there were bags under them. He sighed. She was overworking herself again.

“Why don’t we go do something instead of cooping up in here?” he suggested.

“Like what?” Hitoshi asked, flicking a spring on a machine. Mei leaned over and smacked his hand away. Hitoshi wrinkled his nose.

Izuku shrugged. He honestly hadn’t thought he’d get that far, seeing how Mei never wanted to leave her inventions. What was that place Aizawa kept mentioning? “There’s that new boba place. The one with cats.”

Izuku noticed how both of them perked up; Mei at the idea of boba, and Hitoshi with the idea of being surrounded by animals.

Mei dropped her tools and grabbed both of their wrists, pulling the two boys outside. Izuku stumbled along the sidewalk, half distracted with looking up directions. Hitoshi had someone wrenched his arm back and was walking leisurely behind them.

“Mei,” Izuku said, focusing on not tripping over his feet, “it’s the other way.”

She spun around. Izuku had to close his eyes to not get dizzy.

“What flavors do you guys want?” Izuku asked once they arrived. Hitoshi ignored the question in favor of heading towards a group of kittens. He sat down in front of them, crossing his legs. The kittens meowed and approached, sniffing and rubbing against his knees. Izuku looked at Mei.

“Strawberry!” she said. When Izuku nodded, she went to grab a table that was near Hitoshi. He ordered the strawberry flavor, a mango one for himself, and since Hitoshi never answered, he picked one for him.

Walking over to the table, he found Mei laughing and taking pictures of Hitoshi. He had been claimed by the cats. A black one had curled up on his chest, purring loudly as it slept.

“Wow, you must be lucky,” Izuku commented, setting the drinks down.

Hitoshi hummed, opening his eyes to see what Izuku meant. “Oh. I guess so.” He carefully moved the kitten off of him so he could stand up. He looked troubled, like he was deciding whether or not to stay on the floor. But the black cat followed, so all was good.

“Izuku!” Mei exclaimed. “We should do that TikTok thing where one person moves the cup while the other has their eyes closed and they have to get the straw through the plastic.”

Izuku had no idea what she was talking about, but agreed. Mei put a hand over her eyes. Izuku moved it around a bit before leaving it in a spot and tapping it. Mei hesitated a bit before swinging her arm. She hit it dead center.

She grinned and started sipping her drink. “You should do it, too, Shinsou.”

Hitoshi protested, but Mei insisted. He sighed, giving in. He closed his eyes, and Mei repeated what Izuku did. He didn’t miss, but he did it too hard. His cup cracked on the side, and his drink spilled everywhere. Cats that were under the table scattered.

Mei burst out laughing. Hitoshi just shook his hands, spreading the milk tea. He sighed. “Guess that cat wasn’t so lucky after all.” He looked around for it, before finding the creature sitting next to Izuku. He glared halfheartedly. “What flavor was that?”

Izuku smiled. “Lavender.”

“Hilarious,” Hitoshi deadpanned. He stood up and walked to the front counter.

Mei snorted. “That cat really likes you.”

Izuku looked down, seeing the cat rubbing itself over his thigh. He tried to lean back, but the animal just meowed and climbed onto his leg. It placed its front paws on his chest and headbutted his chin.

“Yeah,” he said, stroking the cat’s head. “I guess it does.”

                                                                 _____________________

Izuku finally felt comfortable going back to fighting crime. Tonight would be his first night doing an actual patrol instead of just running across rooftops since Hosu. Saying he was nervous would be putting it lightly.

The nightmares had settled enough to where he didn’t need to stay out until two in the morning to fall asleep. He’d been getting more hours lately, and while that brought his grades up it also had drawbacks. Meaning now he got tired earlier, which meant his mind would be slightly impaired.

But Izuku didn’t want to hide behind illogic and nightmares forever. So he threw on his uniform with the intent of finding a villain.

Izuku glanced down at his watch after he jumped to another roof. It was nearing one in the morning, and the late hour was starting to affect him. He blinked furiously, trying to ignore the sleep pulling at his eyelids. One more hour. One more hour and then he’d go back.

He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Even though it was the middle of the night, it was still summer and that meant heat.

He rubbed the back of his gloved hand across his forehead. How hot could it possibly get? If it got worse, he’d have to risk indecent exposure and take off his shirt. He found a new respect for Eraserhead. How on earth did he manage to not overheat in his complete black outfit?

Also, was the sun rising? It was suddenly really bright. Maybe Izuku was just overheating and hallucinating. He should cut his patrol short and go home.

Wait.

That wasn’t the sun.

Izuku turned, staring at the apartment complex behind him. It was engulfed in flames. Fire trucks were already on the scene, putting out the flames. He sighed. Why was it always fire? Izuku shook off his impending heat stroke and darted towards the complex. He got to one of the shorter buildings and jumped off, going into a roll to protect his back and everything else.

The firefighters stood off to the side with their hoses while heroes were trying to secure the area. Ambulances arrived, and EMTs and paramedics were quick to treat the people in the grass.

“There’s too many!” A hero shouted from a second floor balcony. “We won’t get them out in time!”

Izuku found himself frozen in place. The only thing he could hear above the sirens were his mother’s screams. He rubbed at his ears, and the noise was replaced by a child’s scream.

Izuku pushed forward, ignoring the calls from the heroes. They didn’t stop him, though. They knew who he was by now and that he had permission, thanks to the police report about Hosu. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be fighting anyone so it couldn’t even be considered vigilantism. He decided to go to the fourth floor first. The flames and smoke wouldn’t cloud him too much, and if there was anyone trapped up there they’d have a harder time getting out.

So he aimed his wrist and shot a web out. It stuck to the third floor balcony. Good enough, he’d just climb up.

He tested the metal bar of the balcony above him. It wasn’t too hot, so as long as he was quick it should be fine. He balanced on the balcony he was currently in, gripping two bars above him. He took deep breaths as he swung his body back and forth, creating momentum. On the fourth swing he pushed up, letting his feet come off the metal. It was a really weird position. He’d only ever done that move a few times, back when he’d still lived in his old apartment with Chie and the others a few months after becoming a vigilante. He had never managed to get it right.

So he was pleasantly surprised to see that he was now sitting on the bars. His arms ached from being twisted at such an odd angle. He let go and hopped off. He massaged his shoulders before forcing the door open and heading inside.

Smoke reached the top of the ceiling. Small fires were everywhere. The brunt of the fire hadn’t reached the top floors yet. He still had time.

He made sure to crouch low to keep from breathing in too much smoke. The next time he saw Mei he would ask for another upgrade that helped ventilate smoke. As he crawled, the child’s screaming grew louder.

Something fell and shattered next to him, causing a pile of fire to brush against his side. He hissed, but pushed through it. If only the heroes and firefighters could put some of the water on the upper levels. But he knew that the stability of the building mattered more. If the building wasn’t stable, then nobody would be able to help at all.

Izuku got to a closed door where the crying was the loudest. He tested the doorknob, wincing as the hot metal’s touch bit through his glove. The vigilante shakily stood up, coughing out some smoke. He backed up a few steps, before angling his shoulder and running towards the door. His body bounced back, and he heard the kid’s crying falter.

Izuku continued banging his body against the door. He was lucky his time at U.A. had built up his muscles. A few minutes had passed before the door finally gave way, whether it was due to Izuku’s force or the burning wood around the frame or both, who knew.

He dropped to the ground and resumed his crawl. His left shoulder ached. He couldn’t afford another move like that. If he ran into any other closed doors he’d have to risk burning his palm.

The child was under his bed, curled up and sobbing. Izuku peeked under. “Hey there,” he said softly. The child sniffed and looked up. “I’m Kumo. What’s your name?”

The boy slowly uncurled himself. Izuku could see the red skin on his arms. “Ta-Takahashi Kousei,” he stuttered.

Izuku nodded. “Alright, Kousei-kun—can I call you that?” The little boy nodded. “Okay, Kousei-kun. I’m here to get you out. Are you able to crawl out for me?”

Kousei placed his arms on the floor and raised himself onto his knees. Izuku saw him wince from the irritation the carpet caused his burns. Izuku sat back on his knees and waited for the boy to get out.

Once the boy was no longer underneath the bed, Izuku pulled him close and stood up, letting the child rest on his hip. Small arms wormed around his neck and Kousei buried his face into Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku just patted his back and headed out of the room.

“Wait!” Kousei cried out, looking around frantically with wide eyes. “Where’s Mom?!”

Izuku’s heart dropped. He hadn’t heard anyone else in the apartment, but that didn’t confirm anything. “I’m sure she’s already gotten out,” he tried, “but I’ll double check after we get you to safety, alright?”

“Okay, Hero-san.”

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. Hero-san. This child thought of him as a hero. It was one thing to read about it online, but it was an entirely different feeling to hear it in your face.

Shoving his mushy feelings aside, the two arrived at the window quickly. Using his free arm, he waved over some firefighters. Soon a ladder was lifted up to their floor. Izuku said goodbye to Kousei and wished him well before handing the kid over to a firefighter.

“You should come down,” the firefighter said. “The stability is getting worse.”

Izuku shook his head. “I need to find his mom first.” I’m not letting another fire tear a family apart.

“Sir,” she pleaded, but Izuku just turned around and headed back inside. She was right. The bigger flames had now reached the upper floors, and they were burning everything. He didn’t bother getting on his hands and knees. He didn’t have the time.

He coughed and waved away smoke from his face. He moved out of the way as a wooden beam collapsed. He searched every room twice, but there was no sign of anyone else. Kousei’s mother had to have gotten out.

That knowledge made him furious. What kind of parent just left their child in a burning building?

The other conclusion was that she was never in the apartment, which raised even more questions. Why did she leave her young son alone in the middle of the night?

As he left one of the bedrooms, his vision was clouded by smoke. Attempts to blow it away were futile. Crouching to the ground didn’t do much, but at least now he wasn’t blind.

The building started to shake from the lack of support. Izuku felt the floor beneath him start to give. The smoke he had inevitably breathed in was starting to take its toll. He grew lightheaded and his vision blurred. He let his arms give out for a moment, but that had been a mistake. He didn’t have the strength to lift himself back up. So instead, when he saw that he was close to the balcony he came from, he freed his two fingers from his glove, aimed, and shot a web. That way if he got trapped they would be able to find him.

The building continued to creak and moan. Izuku used whatever strength he had left to pull himself towards the balcony using the web. He panted.

He was close to the outside when something in the building snapped and fell. Izuku couldn’t help but let out a scream as he felt the bones in his leg twist and break. He took deep breaths and looked down at the scene. He nearly threw up at the sight of his leg. He couldn’t really see it from underneath whatever had fallen on it. From the looks of it, it was a bed from the top floor. The blood flowing out gave signs towards an open fracture.

He couldn’t help it. He let the tears building up behind his mask free. He sobbed, voice coming out choked and broken. “Help!” The volume he was using made the voice come out glitched and warped. He began shooting webs out the balcony rapidly, not caring if they hit anyone. He just needed someone to notice. “Help!”

He blinked slowly. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Was this how she felt? Alone and scared, wondering where her son was?

He couldn’t tell if it was real or if he had grown delirious from the blood loss, but someone had jumped from the balcony and into the room he was in. The distorted figure knelt down and started attempting to move the broken bed off his leg.

Izuku gritted his teeth. It was too much, every time the bed shifted he could feel his bones move with it. One particular shift made him gasp before blacking out.

Chapter Text

When he first woke up, it was to the sounds of yelling voices and the feeling of floating. He didn’t remember much, but he knew the lights hurt too much so he kept his eyes shut. His face felt light. The voices aggravated his head, which was already pulsing with pain.

He couldn’t move his limbs. He could wiggle his body but when he tried to raise an arm to push whoever was crowding him away, they just held it down tighter.

“-to ventilate him!” someone shouted.

A slight jolt of pain in his leg stopped him from thinking about moving it again.

The myriad of voices blurred together as he faded back into unconsciousness.

                                                                        ______________

The second time he woke up, he was alone. He blinked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the light. His headache was gone, but his entire body ached.

He fell back asleep.

                                                                       ______________

The third time he woke up, he was more coherent. It was silent except for the heart monitor. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. After taking a few minutes to process that he was back in the hospital, he looked around.

His leg was wrapped in a full cast, again , and elevated. It wasn’t too high to where he couldn’t sit up, so that’s what he did. His body groaned and protested, but he adjusted the pillow so he could at least lean back.

He let out a relieved sigh as the pain in his body subsided to general soreness. Letting his head fall down, he took notice of the large, red burns on his arms. Careful not to pull at the IV in him, he raised his arms slightly to get a better look. There were only slight blisters so he wasn’t too concerned about them. Although, he didn’t know how much of his body was burned so maybe he should be. He hoped a nurse or doctor would come in soon.

What time was it, anyway? He looked around the room, mostly keeping his eyes on the walls for a clock, when he landed on something. Or someone.

A familiar silhouette was slumped in a chair, leaning back against the wall. His legs were splayed in front of him. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Izuku wondered what Aizawa was doing in his hospital room, but then he was hit with a wave of memories. The fire, running in to save the little boy, being trapped under something.

But. . . Kumo was the one who had been in the fire, not Izuku. He gasped. Wait! Izuku’s hands flew to his face. He sighed when he felt plastic around his mouth and nose. He frowned. That didn’t feel right, though. He had the fuzziest memory of someone yelling something about ventilation.

He dragged a hand from the mask up the rest of his head. He stilled when he felt no mask. Shit. His mask was gone! No wonder Aizawa was here. There was no possible way the man wasn’t aware now.

Oh god. He was going to be kicked out, wasn’t he? He’d be kicked out and have to leave U.A. He’d have to resort to his original plan of just hightailing it to Hosu. The thought of that made him want to vomit. He didn’t want to go back to the place where he killed the Nomu.

Maybe he could just find a shady town, one that had places that would rent to kids. Shadier towns would mean more crime, too. They needed protecting, too. Heroes tended to avoid those places.

Izuku didn’t realize he had been tugging at his hair until a pair of hands wrapped around his own and gently pulled them away. Tears gathered in his eyes, threatening to fall and making the world look blurry. He only knew it was Aizawa because of the scarf.

“Please don’t kick me out,” Izuku blurted.

Aizawa frowned. “Why would I do that?”

Izuku sniffed, looking down. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

“I am.” Aizawa waited until Izuku was staring at him. “Why on earth would you go into a building that was on the verge of collapsing?”

It was Izuku’s turn to frown. That’s what he was upset about? The burning building? Not the fact that he was the vigilante Aizawa was looking for?

Something must have shown on Izuku’s face, because Aizawa sighed. “We’ll talk about that when you get out.”

The teenager nodded slowly. He was about to lay back down to go back to sleep when another thought occurred to him.

“The staff,” he started, “do they. . .?”

Aizawa shook his head. “They don’t.”

“How? What about my suit?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing as how he would only get more questions than answers at the moment, Izuku laid down and closed his eyes.

                                                              ____________________

He woke up a few hours later due to the sun coming in from the window and two voices talking. He shifted slightly, alerting them. The talking stopped as their attention was drawn.

“He’s awake!” one voice said. Izuku opened his eyes and saw Yamada was standing by the door. He held two cups of what Izuku assumed was coffee. He must have gone on a coffee run for himself and Aizawa. What he didn’t expect, however, was for the blond to hand both cups over to Aizawa.

Aizawa just glared at Izuku, as if he was telling him not to judge.

“Oh yeah!” Yamada exclaimed. Izuku looked over. Yamada dug around in his pocket before tossing whatever he had pulled out at Izuku. Izuku scrambled to catch it, and was glad he did. It was his phone. “Your phone’s been blowing up all day!”

Izuku was confused, but upon seeing the time once he turned on the phone, he understood. It was almost one in the afternoon. He saw a few texts from Hitoshi, which appeared to be just cat pictures, and over twenty from Mei.

Izuku sighed. Mei was always worried about him, so if he didn’t answer before ten in the morning she would start spamming texts.

Instead of replying like a normal person, Izuku ended up taking a picture of himself in the bed and sent it to their newly formed group chat with the words “I lived” and then the hospital’s address.

He turned his phone off to avoid the rampant buzzing and calls that would soon come his way. He had no doubt that they would show up eventually.

Which was exactly what happened fifteen minutes later. How they got there so fast when they live in opposite directions and the hospital itself was at least twenty minutes away, Izuku had no idea and had the vague sense that it wasn’t exactly legal. So he didn’t question it.

The door slammed open, revealing the slightly panicked Mei and a nonchalant Hitoshi.

“Izuku!” Mei yelled. Her eyes were wide. She ran over to the bed, stopping right next to him. “What happened?” Hitoshi was going to approach the bed, but he seemed to be having a staring contest with Aizawa, who also looked surprised to see him.

“Just a little fire,” Izuku said.

“‘Just a little fire’, he says,” Aizawa muttered, reaching up to rub his temples. Izuku could practically see the grey hairs growing.

Mei spun around, as if just noticing the man. She looked over her shoulder, back at Izuku. “Does he know?” Izuku nodded. Now that she had permission to, Izuku could see the scolding building up inside her.

She faced him again, this time getting up close. “What is wrong with you?” she practically screamed. Izuku leaned back as much as he could, but the bed wasn’t that big. “You can’t just keep throwing yourself into danger like that! This is the second time in not even six months that you’ve landed yourself in the hospital.”

“People need saving, Mei,” Izuku argued.

“Then let the actual heroes do that!” Mei slapped her hands over her mouth. The regret was evident in her eyes, but the damage had already been done. The three teenagers didn’t hear the two adults leave the room.

Izuku was staring at Mei, but it was clear that he wasn’t really looking at her. His eyes turned glossy with tears.

“What is wrong with you?” Hitoshi harshly whispered, smacking the back of Mei’s head.

“I’m sorry, Izuku,” she said softly. She knelt down and put her hands on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t mean that. I just. . . You can’t save people if you’re dead, and I can’t lose my best friend.”

Izuku inhaled sharply. He hadn’t considered that, hadn’t realized how his behavior could’ve been taken. In his eyes, he was just doing what any other hero would have done.

Izuku sighed. “I’m sorry, Mei.” He stared at his hands and blinked away the tears. “I’ll stop if it means you won’t worry. I’ll stop the fighting, the patrols-”

“No!” Mei exclaimed. She got to her feet. “I could never ask you to stop being Kumo. All I’m asking is to not be so reckless, and maybe talk to someone about it. Besides, who else would help me with my babies?”

Hitoshi choked on air at that sentence. He was aware of what Mei called her inventions, but it still caught him off guard to hear her talking so openly about them.

Izuku laughed. “I’ll try.”

Mei nodded, crossing her arms. “You better, or we’ll tell those teachers out there.” She laughed at Izuku’s panicked expression. She carefully messed up his hair, being mindful of the small bandages on his cheeks. “We’ll stop by again soon, unless you get out before then.”

The three friends said goodbye, and Mei and Hitoshi left.

Izuku leaned back in his bed. That interaction had taken a lot out of him, he could feel his eyes growing heavy.

A short nap wouldn’t hurt , he supposed.

                                                                   __________________

Things slowly started to get better over the course of a few days. Izuku’s mask had been replaced with a nasal cannula until a majority of the smoke he inhaled cleared his lungs. He was also able to make his way to the bathroom without any help, now. His leg was still broken but it had been healed just to where he could put the tiniest amount of pressure without it hurting.

Izuku was glad for that. During the first few days, either Aizawa or Yamada had to help him walk. That was embarrassing on its own, and Izuku had never been more thankful for hospital gowns in his life. He didn’t need help in that department.

Aizawa had wanted to let his leg heal on its own as punishment for Izuku’s recklessness, but Recovery Girl, who Izuku had discovered to be his primary caretaker as a precaution, argued on Izuku’s behalf.

“The poor boy’s already been embarrassed enough,” she had said, “he at least needs to get to the bathroom by himself.”

And Aizawa, being the logic-driven man he was, agreed.

Izuku was still bummed, though, because his broken leg meant he couldn’t participate in the class’s summer camp. He could still go, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything so he didn’t see the point. It was a good thing Yamada didn’t have anything planned besides patrols and his radio show, so it wasn’t like Izuku would be totally alone. And the cats were there.

Izuku was watching a video on his phone when the door opened. Recovery Girl walked through, followed by Aizawa and Yamada. Recovery Girl held a clipboard.

“Alright, Midoriya-kun,” she said. “You should be able to leave tomorrow if your lungs are cleared. You inhaled a lot of smoke. The burns on your arms are nearly gone, but it’s the back that will need the most care. I’ve given those two the rundown; apply the burn cream at least once a day and do not sleep on your back until the blisters go away.”

Izuku nodded, not really paying attention and counting on his guardians to remember. He’d been down that road once before, he knew the drill. This time it should be much easier, since he didn’t have to hide it anymore.

Izuku swallowed. He and Aizawa still haven’t talked about it yet. The man had said he wanted to wait until Izuku was discharged. Izuku wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want Izuku’s vitals to create a scene or he didn’t want someone to overhear. No one aside from the three heroes in the room knew the truth.

Izuku just wanted to get the conversation over with, though. He just wanted to let Aizawa rant and vent about it before telling him to pack his things.

Recovery Girl left shortly after checking Izuku’s vitals, leaving him with his guardians.

Yamada stretched his arms over his head. “As awful as it was,” he said, “I’m glad it happened so I no longer have to keep it a secret.”

Izuku inhaled sharply. His eyes snapped over to the blond. Yamada stiffened, realizing what he just admitted to. He slowly turned towards his husband, meeting his stare.

“What,” Aizawa demanded, “do you mean ‘secret’? You knew this whole time?”

Yamada laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I only found out the day of Hosu.”

Aizawa’s quirk activated, though it didn’t look like he realized. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Yamada stuttered, but was quick to defend himself. “You always complain about how vigilantes get on your nerves because of all the extra work you have to do! I wasn’t going to put all that pressure on Midoriya.”

“It’s different when it’s your own kid, Hizashi!”

Everyone in the room froze. Izuku stared at the scene in front of him with wide eyes. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that sentence.

Yamada had covered his mouth with his hands. His eyes shined with tears. “Do. . . do you really mean that, Sho?”

Aizawa looked like a child that had been caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Yes.”

Yamada flung himself at the tired man, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Izuku burst into tears.

Chapter Text

Izuku was checked out of the hospital the next day. As he situated himself in the back seat of the car, tilting himself so he was leaning against the car door so his broken leg could lay on the seat, he felt himself buzz with nervous energy.

Aizawa had said they would talk about the whole Kumo thing when he got out. That could happen at any moment. Luckily, Aizawa seemed to fall asleep in the passenger seat.

However, that peaceful time ended the moment Izuku had gotten into a somewhat comfortable position on the couch. He was laying on his stomach so that his leg could be elevated in a way that didn’t irritate his back. Yamada walking into the hallway gave him a huge wave of deja vu.

Izuku was messaging Class 1-A’s group chat. He usually was able to respond relatively fast, so a few students (mostly Uraraka and Iida, though a few others expressed concern as well) were asking about him. He smiled as Iida sent a fairly long text about being more careful, saying that, “While you have experience, even the most seasoned Pro still makes mistakes.” Asu — no, she likes to be called Tsuyu, he had to keep remembering that —just wished him well. Other than that, the group chat was silent since most were probably enjoying their time off until the summer camp.

Izuku turned off his phone and was going to reach for the TV remote when a plastic bag was dropped onto the floor in front of him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking the bag was empty and this was Aizawa’s sick way of telling him to pack his things and leave, despite Izuku knowing that logically it was bullshit.

“What’s this?” he asked, moving the bag closer to him. When he peered in, all he saw was a black bundle. He grabbed the mass and pulled it out, letting it unfold. Even though it was missing the design, Izuku could tell it was his vigilante hoodie. It looked like the spider design had been cut or ripped off. He grabbed the other items in the bag. His fanny pack looked fine, but his mask was another story. The straps were torn; some of them looked sawed, but most were barely hanging on.

He sighed. Mei wasn’t going to appreciate that. He’ll have to try to fix them on his own before dumping it on her. She was going to be busy with her parents all summer, and Izuku didn’t want to distract her with repairs, especially one as easy as making me straps.

Izuku finally looked up at the source of the bag.

“So,” Aizawa began, standing nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, “you’re Kumo.”

Izuku swallowed. “I am.”

“Christ. . .” Aizawa ran a hand down his face. “I had my suspicions. Your hesitance in the beginning makes so much sense.”

Izuku cast his gaze at the ground. He stayed silent, before looking back up and opening his mouth.

Aizawa held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there.” He got closer to the couch before crouching down. “I know Hizashi has talked to you about it before, but let me say it: we are not kicking you out. You can stay as long as you want.”

Izuku blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Yes he knew that, logically he knew that, but it felt so good to hear it confirmed.

“Besides,” Aizawa continued, “it wouldn’t be very heroic of us to leave an injured child on the streets.” He moved to stand up, but paused. He gave two pats on top of Izukus’ head, slightly ruffling his hair each time. Then he stood up and left in the same direction Yamada went.

It wasn’t until dinner that the next conversation happened.

After the long past days they’d had, nobody felt like cooking. Izuku tried, but Yamada had been firm in not allowing it. So they ordered takeout. Izuku had asked for katsudon while the adults had gotten something more healthy.

Izuku tried to eat his food, but the constant buzzing in his pocket made it hard to focus. A moment of fear coursed through him, why else would his phone be making so much noise at this time of evening?

He set his chopsticks down before reaching into his pocket. Upon turning it on, he saw that the class group chat was active. He scrolled up to the texts he missed and read them.

Uraraka: So we’re all going then?

Momo: It appears so.

Kaminari: this is gonna be so fun!!

Iida: I have made a chart detailing the groups based on everyone’s needs so we don’t spend unnecessary time in stores.

Below was an image of said chart. Izuku didn’t click on it just yet.

Hagakure: awww but that’s like the whole point!!

Uraraka: C’mon Iida, loosen up!

Iida: I suppose that once we are finished, those who want can window shop.

Mina: Yay!

Hagakure: Yay!!

Iida: I suggest everyone get to bed at a reasonable time if we are to get there by 9AM.

Uraraka: Wait! What about Kumo? He’s not in a group

Iida: He never responded so I could not find a suitable placement for him.

Uraraka: I’ll call him then!

That text had been sent a few minutes ago. Izuku barely had any time to react before his phone started buzzing again. Uraraka’s contact flashed on screen.

He jumped, nearly dropping his phone. He scrambled to tighten his grip around it. He intended to just let it ring and respond to the chat later, but one of his fingers hit the answer button.

It was silent for a moment. “Hello?” Uraraka’s voice came out. “Kumo-kun, are you there?”

Izuku lifted the phone to his ear. “Heeey,” he drew out. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat. “I mean,” his voice was much deeper now, ”hey Uraraka-san.”

He ignored Yamada’s too amused face and the raised eyebrow from Aizawa.

Uraraka giggled. “That voice sounds funny.”

“S-sorry,” Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t have my mask on so I’m forcing it.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You’re probably home, I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be wearing it! I’m sorry, we can do this through text if you want.”

Izuku shook his head even though Uraraka couldn’t see it. “No, this is fine.” It wasn’t, but they were already talking so they might as well finish. “What did you want?”

Uraraka paused, as if she didn’t believe him. She hummed. “Alright. We were wondering if you were going to the mall outing tomorrow. Iida made a chart for groups and you weren’t in one.”

“The mall? Let me ask.” He pulled his phone away and covered the bottom speaker. “The class is having an outing tomorrow.”

Aizawa and Yamada shared a look. A silent conversation, it looked like. Aizawa sighed and looked away.

“Of course you can!” Yamada grinned.

Izuku nodded and relayed the confirmation to Uraraka. She seemed happy, Izuku could practically hear the smile in her voice as she said to be there by nine otherwise Iida would be upset. They hung up shortly after.

“You know, “ Yamada said through a mouthful of rice. He swallowed, “you haven’t decided if you’re going to the camp or not.”

Izuku tilted his head. “I thought I had to.”

“Normally that would be the case,” Aizawa spoke. “But there wouldn’t be much for you to do with your injuries, and Recovery Girl was adamant about making sure you rested.” He took a sip from his cup of water. “I’m not even sure I want you going to the mall on that leg, but ‘Zashi gave the good argument of my being there to supervise.”

Yamada did not say that. At least verbally. Izuku figured it was during that silent conversation.

“And besides,” Yamada cut in, “it’s the mall, what could possibly go wrong?”

                                                                 ________________________

Izuku entered the mall. He was cutting it close to that 9 O’clock deadline that Iida kept dema— kindly suggesting. He tugged on his beanie, making sure it still covered all of his hair. Maybe he should get a hairnet. Stuffing each strand into the beanie made his head look bulky.

He had debated using his old voice changer, but when he looked at the list of groups and didn’t see Kacchan’s name anywhere he figured it didn’t matter. There wasn’t much one could do with someone’s voice, especially if that person hadn’t technically been seen in three years. Even if the police could find him, what would they do? Slap those vigilante fines on him? Nezu had already agreed to pay them off once he graduated.

So really the only thing that prevented him from ditching his mask was Kacchan and the fact that he wanted to go underground after graduating. If he revealed himself while still in school, his face would get plastered all over the internet and that defeated the purpose.

Although, with his current mask still broken, he had to go back to the old mask. He was glad he had decided to keep it. He hoped the trip wasn’t too long. If he got hungry or thirsty he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Spotting his class wasn’t too hard. Once he was in the middle of the first floor, it was easy to see the large group of teenagers surrounding the food court.

He approached them. Most of them just gave him glances as he weaved his way through them. It made sense that they didn’t recognize him. Luckily they moved out of the way so his crutches didn’t get caught on anyone.

When he got to her, Uraraka was showing Ashido and Todoroki a video on her phone. From what Izuku saw, it was a cat video. Izuku tapped on her shoulder. She looked over, surprised.

“Sorry,” she said, “are we in your way? We can move.”

Izuku shook his head. “It’s me, Kumo.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh!” She turned around to fully face him. “I didn’t recognize you. What’s with the mask?”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “Rescue accident.”

“Is that what happened to your leg?” Todoroki asked, pointing to his cast. The girls looked down, gasping. Izuku nodded.

Ashido pulled out a pen. “Can I sign your cast?”

“Uh. . .” Izuku shrugged. “Sure?”

Ashido grinned and dragged him carefully over to an empty table. She nudged his shoulders, and Izuku sat down. She popped off the pen’s cap and knelt down. She carefully held his leg out while she wrote. It was her hero name.

“Who else wants to sign Kumo’s cast?” she called out, cupping her hands on her face to amplify her voice more. Several of their classmates turned and hands shot up. The next few minutes were chaos as teenagers argued who got to go first. Iida ended up organizing it. He had them stand in line in order of class ranks.

Izuku’s cheeks burned the entire time. He wasn’t used to this much attention. It was like when people sang Happy Birthday —he had no idea where to look. Eventually, he settled on leaning forward and hiding his face in his hands.

When it was over, Iida directed the students into the groups he had come up with. Izuku looked at his cast. What was once a plain, white cast now shone with colors and designs. Izuku questioned where the different colors came from, then realized Yaoyorozu could have made different pens.

“So,” Uraraka said next to him. She smiled. “What do you need for the trip?”

“Oh.” Izuku shrugged. “I’m not going.”

She gaped. “Huh?!”

“Recovery Girl wants me resting,” he explained, “and it’s not like I would be able to do much anyway. I’d probably just get in the way.”

“I’m sure Aizawa-sensei would have found a way to get you involved. Probably have you help out with the review classes.”

They both grimaced at that. As much as Izuku would enjoy helping his classmates figure out how to improve, that would still leave him with most of the day to himself. With his thoughts. That didn't sound like the best idea.

Their attention was drawn towards Jirou, who was calling to them. She waved them over and motioned to their classmates, who were now scattering across the mall. Uraraka gave a thumbs up.

“I just need some bug spray,” she said to Izuku. “If you don’t need anything then I can go get it quickly and meet you back here.”

Izuku nodded. “Sounds good.”

Uraraka grinned before running off to join her group. Izuku watched them disappear into the crowd. He sighed before turning around in his chair so he faced the table. He debated on whether or not he should get something to eat. It was late in the morning and he didn’t have that much for breakfast.

During his internal struggle, someone spoke up behind him. He sat up straight as chills went up his spine, though it wasn’t because of how familiar the voice was, but because of what was said.

“Whoa, Kumo, I’m a huge fan.”

In any usual situation, he’d be flattered. But the way it was said, the malicious tone that dripped from their lips, made him want to shrivel up.

Izuku swallowed as the person pulled up a chair and sat next to him. Where had he heard that voice? He couldn’t place it, it was driving him mad. If only he could remember, then he could assess how dangerous the situation was. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t, why couldn’t he-

A hand wrapped around his neck. The person made a point to touch each finger to his skin painstakingly slowly. Four fingers. Izuku gasped. Four fingers, a touch based Quirk.

“Oh, I’m so glad you remembered me. After all, it’s been a while since we first met.”

Time seemed to slow as Izuku turned his head to meet the eyes of Shigaraki. Izuku wanted to burn his retinas after witnessing the grin spread across the villain’s face. “H-how did you know?”

The grin turned into a snarl, as if Shigaraki was offended Izuku thought so little of him. “It wasn’t hard to see that group of hero brats taking up the entire food court. Then I noticed the one that didn’t quite fit. Even if that wasn’t the case, one of you yelled your name. Anyway, I’m just here to talk.”

“How can I trust you?” Izuku asked.

Shigaraki shrugged. Izuku flinched as he felt the fingers move. “You can’t. But you’re in no position to run.” The villain kicked Izuku’s cast. Pain jolted through his leg. Shigaraki’s eyes slid over to Izuku’s. “Or fight. So don’t even think about trying anything. If you do, I can easily take out twenty people before the heroes arrive.” The fingers on his neck tightened. “And you’d be the first to go.”

Izuku swallowed. Shigaraki grinned.

“Now then,” he continued, “why the hell is all the attention on Stain when I was the one who started the attack in Hosu? What does he have that I don’t? My Nomu are stronger than him in every way if he can get taken out by a child.”

Izuku wanted to point out that he killed a Nomu, but figured that wouldn’t be wise in his state. “His message,” he went with instead. “You don’t have one, he did.”

The grip on his neck tightened as Shigaraki lifted his other hand to scratch roughly at his neck. Bits of loose skin flaked off. Izuku grimaced as one landed on his shoe. “I want to kill All Might, that’s my message.”

Izuku frowned. What kind of message was that? Whatever, just keep him talking . “Your attacks haven’t proven that. All Might wasn’t in Hosu, and everybody thinks that he just showed up to help during USJ. Nobody knows that he was supposed to be there.”

The scratching increased.

Izuku continued. “And anyway, most people don’t want to rally behind random bouts of destruction when there’s no obvious cause. Why do you want to kill All Might?”

Shigaraki scowled. “Because heroes claim to save everyone, but All Might is the perfect example of not fulfilling that.”

Something like dread swam in the pit of Izuku’s stomach. He should have guessed that Shigaraki was let down by heroes. That’s how most villains became villains. Izuku’s hands balled into fists. Izuku could see himself, in another timeline, going down the same path. But he didn’t. Instead of following that hatred he first had, he chose to turn it into spite and hope. He wanted to show those heroes how wrong they were, but not by violence but rather by doing their jobs correctly without a Quirk.

“Then show them that,” Izuku said. He squeezed his eyes shut. He hated that he was helping a villain, but if it kept people in the mall out of danger then so be it. He glanced at a nearby clock. How long did it take to find bug spray? “But don’t show it through unnecessary destruction.”

Shigaraki lowered his hand. He laughed. It was quiet, unnerving. “I always knew there was a villainous side to you. Vigilantes toe the line all the time.” Izuku’s hands reached up to grab Shigaraki’s wrist. It was starting to get hard to breathe. The man tsked. Fingers tightened. “How do you suppose I do that, then?”

Izuku opened his mouth to respond as best he could, but someone behind him spoke out.

“Kumo-kun?”

Shigaraki tensed. Izuku feared the villain would turn to her, unleash his Quirk on her. But instead his personality did a 180. It nearly gave Izuku whiplash with how fast Shigaraki could appear cheerful.

Shigaraki looked over his shoulder. “Well why didn’t you say you were here with friends?” Finally, Shigaraki let go of Izuku’s neck. Izuku leaned forward, coughing loudly and gasping for breath. His hands pressed against the base of his neck. “I’ll leave you to it then. Nice talking with you.”

And with that, Shigaraki disappeared into the crowd.

Uraraka hurried over to Izuku. “What happened? Who was that?”

“Get Aizawa-sensei,” Izuku choked out, “that was Shigaraki.”

Chapter Text

Nothing much happened after the police arrived. Izuku was questioned, but Shigaraki had vanished. Some other civilians were questioned as well, but nobody saw anything. It didn’t surprise Izuku, seeing how the villain had someone with a warp Quirk.

Aizawa had showed up shortly after Izuku finished up his questions. When the teacher saw him, his shoulders slumped. His eyes dropped briefly to Izuku’s neck. Bruises had started to form. 

“What happened?” he asked as he approached, turning his head to survey the police moving about. 

“The villain, Shigaraki, showed up,” an officer explained. Aizawa looked down at Izuku.

“He didn’t really do anything,” Izuku said. “He just wanted to talk.”

Aizawa rubbed the bridge of his nose, muttering, “‘He wanted to talk’, he says.” He looked up. “Your neck is bruised, Kumo.”

One of Izuku’s hands reached up to where the marks were the darkest. His fingers lightly rubbed against them. “He really only wanted to talk. He asked why Stain had gotten more attention than him.”

Aizawa sighed. “The next time a villain ‘just wants to talk’, you run and call a hero.” He turned towards the officer. “Are we finished here?” The officer nodded. “Alright. Most of your classmates have already gone home, let’s go.”

Izuku followed behind his teacher. “Can’t run with a broken leg,” he mumbled. Aizawa’s “I heard that” made him squeak out an apology.

“Put this on,” was all the warning Izuku was given before something large was thrown at his face. He clawed at it, pulling it down so he could see. He held it out in front of him. His eyes widened, and he looked up at Aizawa to make sure. “If there are any of your classmates still around, I don’t want them to worry about your bruises.”

Izuku quickly wrapped the scarf around him. He grinned and pulled out his phone to snap a photo. Hitoshi was going to be so jealous.

                                                                   ________________

When Shouta and Midoriya arrived home, they were greeted with Hizashi walking down the hallway covered in their cats. Blizzard and Fluffy were on his shoulders, while he carried Truffles in his arms.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, doing his best to wave without disturbing the curled up animal, “how was it?”

Shouta didn’t answer. He just moved past his husband and went into their bedroom. He could hear Hizashi talk to Midoriya, but couldn’t understand what was being said. Shouta figured he was asking what happened. He couldn’t hear Midoriya’s response.

Shouta began pacing the floor, his mind running at a hundred miles an hour. Why was it always his class, his Problem Child , that found trouble?

The bedroom door creaked open. “You’re mumbling,” Hizashi said as he approached Shouta.

Shouta stopped his pacing and looked up. “I don’t mumble.”

A soft smile grew on Hizashi’s face. “You know, you and Midoriya have started picking up on each other’s habits.” Shouta looked down at his hands. One was being held up by the other while it gripped his chin. He quickly dropped his arms.

“What happened, Sho?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Hizashi shook his head. He grabbed his husband’s hands and led him over to the edge of their bed. Shouta sighed and let himself be sat down. Hizashi rubbed his thumbs over the back of Shouta’s hands.

“What happened?” he asked again, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Shigaraki was there,” Shouta finally said. He heard Hizashi inhale sharply. “Apparently he only wanted to ‘talk’ and didn’t do anything.”

Hizashi was silent as he took in the information. “Is he hurt?” he asked after a while.

Shouta tightened his hands into fists. “That bastard had his hand wrapped around his neck.”

Hizashi moved a hand to rub his husband’s back. Shouta’s shoulders slumped. “Look on the bright side,” he said, trying to lighten the sour mood, “at least this week he’ll be safe at home!”

Shouta sighed. He gently removed his hands from Hizashi’s in order to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. “‘Zashi. . .” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave him here.”

With a tilt of his head, Hizashi asked, “Why not?”

Shouta paused briefly. He took a deep breath. “Those villains are smart enough to steal my class schedule, smart enough to engineer creatures with multiple Quirks. I wouldn’t be surprised if Midoriya was personally on Shigaraki’s list. What’s to say they don’t have our address?”

Hizashi went pale at the thought. Shouta saw how his hands started to tremble. “I really don’t think that’s possible, Sho’. We’re both heroes, we’d notice if someone was snooping around.” They both ignored how they didn’t catch Midoriya sneaking out constantly. “Besides, he’d be bored out of his mind. Even if you found something for him to do, there’s only so many times he can analyze his classmates’ Quirks. He’d feel left out watching all of them train and fight. But hey,” he shrugged, “if you want to be at the end of Recovery Girl’s cane, be my guest.”

Shouta turned to stare his husband right in the eyes. “If you can show me that this place will be safe enough while I’m gone, he can stay.”

Hizashi placed a hand over his heart, as if wounded. “You have such little faith in me?” He let out a weak laugh. It wasn’t the time for jokes, but Shouta knew that was how he coped with things. “I can see if Nemuri and Tensei are willing to stay. Tensei may not be able to fight but his Quirk still works. I’m sure a wheelchair to the gut would take anyone out. And Nemuri can gas any invaders.”

Shouta closed his eyes. He nodded. He could do that. He trusted Hizashi, he trusted his friends. It was only a week. “Alright.”

                                                                    ____________________

“Alright!” Yamada exclaimed once Aizawa left the following morning. Izuku turned to stare from where he sat at the kitchen table. He was still finishing up his breakfast. “Nemuri and Tensei should be here in an hour.”

Izuku tilted his head. “Who?” Those names sounded familiar. Aizawa and Yamada have probably talked about them before.

“Midnight and Ingenium!” Izuku wanted to smack himself. He should have at least known Tensei. Iida talked about his brother constantly.

Izuku swallowed some of his rice. “Why are they coming?”

Yamada rubbed the back of his neck. “It was the only way Sho' would let you stay.”

Izuku frowned. He knew the mall incident had been jarring, but was Aizawa really that paranoid? He supposed one had to be in that line of work, especially underground. You had to do whatever was necessary to protect your family.

Izuku didn’t have any living family left. Maybe that was why he was so reckless. Or at least part of the reason.

Yamada stretched in an exaggerated manner, hands raising above his head and fingers spreading. He even stood on the balls of his feet. “I actually have to leave for patrol when they arrive, so I’m off to get ready.”

The man turned and hightailed it for his bedroom. His hair took forty-five minutes alone to do. Izuku thought he should have started getting ready earlier, since Yamada liked to make poses in the mirror for his social media for the remaining fifteen.

Izuku, now finished with his breakfast, stood up. He held his bowl in one hand while the other held his crutch. He made sure to be far enough away from the chair before walking. He sighed. He wished he could just go to Recovery Girl and get it healed. He briefly wondered if he could convince Yamada to bring him, but neither wanted to cross Aizawa when he’d made a stern decision.

After he put his dishes in the sink, Izuku headed to his room. He didn’t want to meet two heroes in his pajamas, even if he’d already met one. First-second (or was it third, since he’d already met Midnight both as himself and Kumo? No, it would still be second. This was confusing) impressions had to be good.

He ended up leaving his sweatpants on since he didn’t want to deal with the monster that was his cast, and threw on an All Might themed T-shirt. As he turned to leave his room and sit on the couch, he eyed his desk. His damaged mask laid on top of an open notebook.

He bit his lip. Did he want to wear it? Did he really want to spend all week in his own home hiding his face? He knew Midnight already, and seeing as how she was friends with Aizawa knew the importance of privacy. She wouldn’t go spreading his face around. But Ingenium. . .

He frowned, picking up the mask. He liked Iida, they were great friends. But his brother was still an unknown figure to him. Izuku rubbed his thumb over one of the eye holes. He supposed if he really wanted to, he could wear the old one for the first day.

He nodded to himself. Yeah, he’d do that. That way he could make sure he was comfortable enough before he revealed himself, like he had with the others. Except for Aizawa. And Yamada. It was a 50% average. A failing grade. He needed to fix that. He couldn’t fail Vigilante 101 now, could he? Rule 5: if you reveal yourself, do it on your terms. What were the first four rules? Izuku only had guesses.

He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to debate the hypothetical rules of a class he made up. He set down his broken mask. He really wished Mei wasn’t busy so she could either fix it, or at least show him how so he didn’t have to bug her in the future.

Izuku knew it was his queue to go back to the living room when he heard Yamada’s whistle coming down the stairs. Izuku found him in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone. He was leaning back against the counter. Yamada looked up, pausing briefly at the sight of Izuku’s mask, before going back to whatever he was looking at. It was strange seeing Yamada in his hero costume without his glasses on. They twirled around in his other hand.

There were three knocks at the door. “Ah!” Yamada exclaimed, pocketing his phone. “They’re here!”

Izuku swallowed. He decided to go sit on the couch while they caught up. Voices soon echoed down the hall, but Izuku couldn’t make out what was being said.

He folded his leg under him while his broken one curled up on the couch. He looked down at all the names. He still couldn’t believe the entire class signed it. Well, most of the class. There was no way Kacchan would’ve signed it even if he had been there.

Even after they all signed it, there had been a large space left. Yamada had ended up filling it with small doodles last night. He had drawn all of the cats, though they weren’t that good. Poor Fluffy looked like a slab of meat.

The front door shut.Footsteps and the sound of wheels approached the living room. Izuku sat up straight and looked to his right just in time to see Midnight and Ingenium come into view. Midnight held two bags and had a one-strap backpack. Ingenium had two bags in his lap.

“Wow,” Izuku whispered. There were two heroes in his house. Two different heroes, and one he was meeting for the first time. Izuku looked between both of them, before coming to a decision. He took a deep breath and lowered his mask.

Surprise and recognition flashed through Midnight’s eyes. “So,” she said, “what do you want us to call you?”

Izuku swallowed. “I . . . Midoriya.”

She nodded, smiling slightly. “Alright, Midoriya. Please just call me Kayama.”

Since he already knew her, Izuku turned his attention to Ingenium. “It’s an honor to meet you, Iida-san. Your brother talks about you a lot.”

Iida let out a laugh. “Please, Iida-san is my father. Just call me Tensei.”

Izuku felt weird calling an adult by their given name, much less a hero, but he nodded anyway. “Do you guys need help with anything?” he asked, preparing to stand up.

Kayama held up her hand. “Oh no,” she said sternly, “you’re the injured one here. You stay on the couch, I can go grab their air mattress.” She turned to Tensei, throwing him a smirk. “Unless you want me to carry you up the stairs to the spare bedroom and share, like old times.”

Izuku didn’t think he’d ever see anyone’s face turn red so fast. His eyes darted between the adults. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she meant. Izuku didn’t even know they had a guest bedroom. He supposed spending most of your time with broken limbs really restricted your ability to explore.

“That won’t be necessary,” Tensei was quick to say. Kayama cackled as she let her bags drop to the ground. She was still laughing breathlessly as she made her way upstairs. 

That left him with Tensei. Tensei gave Izuku a look, and Izuku felt the atmosphere turn somber. He swallowed.

“Thank you,” Tensei said, “for saving my brother.”

Izuku shook his head. “I was just doing my job.”

“The reports said that you fought a Nomu. I highly doubt you came out of that uninjured and yet you still ran off to stop him from doing something reckless.” Tensei paused. “Though, I suppose you could use a lecture in that, too.”

Izuku sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve already gotten lectures.”

Tensei laughed. “Well they’re obviously not working,” he gestured towards Izuku’s cast.

“Alright!” Kayama announced, gracing Tensei and Izuku with her re-arrival. The pose she struck made her look like a star—literally. She held a bag, presumably the air mattress, above her head while the other one was slightly extended from her side. She approached the couch, tossing the bag next to Izuku. “Now that I’m back, who’s hungry?”

Izuku tilted his head. He wasn’t too hungry, having only eaten an hour ago.

“Isn’t it only eleven?” Tensei asked.

“Then we’ll have brunch,” Kayama grinned. “Isn’t that what Americans call it?”

Tensei gave Izuku an incredulous look. Izuku just shrugged and matched Kayama’s smile. Who was he to turn down free food?

                                                            ________________________

When Hizashi stepped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, the last thing he was expecting was a text from Shouta telling him to get to the hospital and not let Midoriya watch the news, including on his phone.

Hizashi frowned as he dried his hair with his towel. What did Shouta mean?

Draping the towel across his shoulders, Hizashi picked up his phone. Opening up his news app gave him a horrific surprise. The training camp had been. . . attacked? Hizashi scanned the article, his stomach sinking lower with every passing word. He swore his heart dropped when he read about Bakugou’s kidnapping and how there was a single casualty.

His phone slipped from his hands as he bolted out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He had been wise enough to throw his pajamas on in the bathroom.

He turned into the living room and froze. Midoriya sat on the couch, unmoving as he stared at the TV. Silent tears poured down his face as the police officer on screen spoke.

“. . . has been reported missing after the attack. We have not gotten any witness statements at this time, and we most likely won’t for at least a few hours. These kids have just been through a traumatic moment and they’ll need time to rest.”

The news announcer at the scene began speaking, but Hizashi reached over and turned down the volume. “Midoriya?” he called out. Midoriya didn’t react. Hizashi knelt down in front of him. “Listener?”

Midoriya let out a shaky breath. “It’s my fault,” he whispered. His eyes were dull, like he wasn’t even there. Hizashi didn’t think he was, but he needed Midoriya to snap out of it.

“How?” he asked. He grabbed Midoriya’s hands, which had begun to curl into fists. Hizashi uncurled them. Small indents littered the kid’s palms. “How on earth could this possibly be your fault?”

Midoriya sniffed, and tried to pull away. Hizashi didn’t let him, no matter how many tears dripped onto his own hands. “The mall— Shigaraki, he— I—” He broke off into sobs. Hizashi pulled him close, wrapping his arms tightly around Midoriya. He let him cry into his shoulder. Hizashi rubbed circles on his back.

Hizashi slightly turned his head so he could see what was happening on the TV. The news announcer was still talking, but now the cameras were filming what was going on around them. It was blurry, but in the background Hizashi saw Mandalay on her knees.  She was holding something and rocking back and forth. It was too far to be sure, but Hizashi swore he heard faint cries coming from her. The other Wild, Wild, Pussycats came over to console her.

With a sickening realization, Hizashi knew that whatever she was holding was the casualty the article mentioned. Whoever she was holding.

A paramedic walked over to them. Whatever they said to her made her break even more.

“No!” she screamed. “You can’t! He’s all I have!”

The other Pussycats pried her away as the paramedic carefully took the body from her. Hizashi wanted to throw up. The body was so small. A child. Those villains killed a child. He turned away from the TV as Mandalay let out the most gut-wrenching cry he’d ever heard and threw herself at her teammates, sobbing into their arms.

Midoriya was still sniffling, but the tears had stopped for the most part. Hizashi let him pull back. They stayed like that for a while; Midoriya catching his breath and Hizashi patiently waiting.

“He said he wanted to show everyone that heroes can’t save us all,” Midoriya began. “I. . . I told him unnecessary violence wouldn’t prove anything. He— this is him doing what I said.”

Hizashi grabbed Midoriya’s shoulders, forcing the boy to look at him. “It is never your fault for what villains do. It doesn’t matter if you directly tell them to rob a bank, that’s not your fault. You don’t control their actions, only yours.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I wish I had been there.” He wiped his cheek. “If I was, I could have done something.”

“What could you have done?” Hizashi asked, “your leg is broken.”

Midoriya met his eyes. “The adrenaline would have kept me going.”

That sentence. That sentence was what a heart breaking sounded like. Hizashi never wanted to hear anything like it come out of Midoriya’s mouth again. No hero, let alone a child, should think like that.

Hizashi sighed, letting his head fall. “Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re no longer allowed to watch the news tonight. Nemuri should be back from her patrol soon, Tensei is in the shower. I’m going to the hospital to talk to Shouta.”

Midoriya choked out a sob.

“He’s not hurt!” Hizashi clarified quickly. He wasn’t actually sure of that, but he didn’t need the Listener to start crying again. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it. “But I do need to know if it’s alright with you for me to leave, and don’t lie about it. If you’re not okay, I won’t go. I’m sure whatever Shouta needs to say can wait.”

Midoriya sniffed. It took a few moments, but he eventually nodded. “Y-you can go.”

Hizashi nodded back. He pulled Midoriya into another hug, this one quicker than before. He stood up. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I don’t plan on staying there all night.” As he walked over to the entryway, he looked over his shoulder. “Please try to get some rest.”

The only sign that Midoriya acknowledged him was the slight head tilt. Hizashi slipped on his shoes and grabbed a thin jacket.

He really needed to talk to Shouta.

Chapter Text

It was dark. He hadn’t meant to stay out so late, but his injuries had been worse than usual. He didn’t want her to worry, so he had stopped at a convenience store to patch himself up.

Walking with an injured knee wasn’t fun. He had washed his face the best he could, but blood continued to drip down. He spat on the sidewalk. It was dark. He was glad Kacchan hadn’t been the one to do it. Convenience stores couldn’t do much against burns that bad.

He jumped to the side when a fire truck sped past him, sirens going off. He was going to ignore it if it weren’t for the other one that followed. He frowned. They were heading towards his apartment.

Dread filled his stomach. Pushing aside the pain in his body, he ran. It wasn’t as fast as he normally could run given his knee. Each step felt like fire shooting up his bones. 

He blinked, and he was in front of a burning building. His burning building. Heroes and firefighters swarmed it. Heroes were going in and out, rescuing people. The firefighters and heroes with water Quirks focused on the rising flames.

He blinked again, and he was forced to watch the building collapse as a familiar scream rang out.

He jolted awake, panting and covered in sweat. Why was he covered in sweat? Why was it so hot in here? Was something burning? He swore he could smell burning.

Without a second thought, he threw off his blankets and rushed out of the room.

                                                                      ______________

He could feel sweat trail down his back as he hurried into the kitchen. He’d searched nearly every room he could access and couldn’t find the fire. So where was the burning smell coming from? He had to find it, he had to.

The kitchen was dark. There were no flames. Izuku let out a sigh of relief. He turned around and prepared for the painful journey back to his room, but quickly stopped when a thought flew into his mind. He looked over his shoulder and stared at the stovetop.

Was a burner on? He couldn’t tell. It looked like one was switched on, but the spot itself wasn’t showing any red.

He approached the stove. He reached forward and grabbed a knob. He turned it right, turning it on. As soon as he did that, he turned it off. Without thinking, he pressed the palm of his hand onto the burner. It was slightly warm.

Izuku chewed on his bottom lip as he repeated the process with the other burners. He just had to make sure they weren’t on, and the best way to do that was turning them off yourself.

The sound of the front door closing didn’t even register in Izuku’s brain until a voice spoke.

“Midoriya,” an exhausted sounding Aizawa said. “What are you doing?”

Izuku shook his head, deciding to ignore him. He moved from the stove to the counters. Outlets were a potential source, too. Izuku leaned forward and unplugged the coffee maker.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa tried again, sounding irritated but also confused. “Why are you up this late?”

“Fire,” Izuku chose to say, not wanting to delve deeper than that. “Gotta stop it.”

Izuku unplugged the toaster. Footsteps approached him. A pair of hands pried his fingers off the cord. The same hands then rested on his shoulders and led him out of the kitchen.

Izuku tried to twist around the best he could. “No!” he protested, reaching a hand over Aizawa’s shoulder. “You don’t understand, the outlets could start a fire!”

Aizawa sighed as he led Izuku to the table. “They won’t start a fire.”

“How do you know?”

“Are you really that worried?”

The hands gently pushed Izuku into a chair. He huffed. “If there’s no risk of a fire, then no one will get hurt. I won’t have to save anyone.”

Aizawa ran a hand over his face. “Kid, if there was a fire you’d be the one being saved. You can’t do anything with that leg.”

Izuku glared down at the table, hands curling into fists. Aizawa didn’t have to be so blunt about it. They remained in silence: Izuku still looking at the table and Aizawa at Izuku.

Aizawa sighed again before walking into the kitchen. He reached up to open a cabinet and took out their kettle.

“What are you doing?” Izuku asked.

“Since you’re obviously not going to let it go, I’m making you tea so you can calm down and rest that leg.” Aizawa gave him a pointed look, eyes darting between the cast and Izuku. Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “And then you’re going back to bed. I have a press conference tomorrow night and I don’t need to worry about the Problem Child that’s already safe.”

Izuku slumped down in his seat. Right. Kacchan was missing. It had been a few days since the attack. The attack he caused. The adults told him multiple times it wasn’t his fault, and Izuku went along with it. But deep down he knew he had a hand in it.

Shigaraki clearly had no idea what to do to get people to understand his message, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered Izuku in the first place. Shigaraki followed his advice. There were six heroes and they failed to protect everyone. How could it not have been his fault?

Izuku was broken out of his thoughts when a mug was set in front of him. He looked up as Aizawa poured himself a cup. Izuku glanced over to the living room, surprised to see Tensei hadn’t woken up from the kettle.

Tensei was sleeping on the couch by himself, Kayama’s air mattress laid empty a few feet away. They had insisted on staying the rest of the week to keep Izuku occupied with other things. They said they just wanted to hang out like old times, but Izuku knew better.

One way they kept him busy was by talking about their Quirks. He had spent the entire day asking and analyzing their Quirks, which was why he knew the reason Kayama’s mattress was empty.

She had explained one of the drawbacks to her Quirk. It affected her sleep patterns and made her internal clock strange. She would go through periods of insomnia followed by a few days of rest. She would often take night patrols during those times, and then would be dead to the world for three or four nights. Nothing could wake her up. She had brought up how it freaked out her parents the first few times it happened.

She was on patrol right now, and wouldn’t be back for a few hours.

Izuku sipped his tea. It was chamomile. He looked up. “What are you doing?”

Aizawa glanced his way as he unplugged the blender. “Is there anything else in the kitchen you're concerned about?”

Izuku swallowed. He scanned the counters and even the floors. “The cats’ food bowl mat.” It was too close to the vent.

Aizawa nodded and moved it to the other side of the kitchen. This went on for a few minutes. The stand mixer was unplugged, the coffee filters were moved to the other side of the coffee maker and away from the outlet, the glass bowl of fruit was pushed further away from the stove. That was an irrational thing, and Izuku was aware how irrational he was being, it was just basic safety. If that stove did turn on, the glass could explode. He’d seen it happen before when his mom forgot she left a tray on top.

When Izuku finished his tea, he was ushered off to his room. Aizawa did the same.

Right. The press conference. Because Kacchan was missing and they had to reassure everyone.

Izuku’s eyes widened. The media would be relentless, they would look into everything said and misunderstand or flat out lie. It wouldn’t be the first time. And since it was concerning U.A., the vultures would go crazy.

Izuku wished there was something he could do. But he was stuck in his house with heroes that would never let him leave. So going to save Kacchan himself was out of the question.

But what if. . .

He glanced at his phone on his desk.

That’s it! He could at least explain how it was his fault and not U.A.’s. That way the media would have something else to dig its claws into.

There was no time to wait. Tomorrow night would be too late, and Tensei and Kayama would be bugging him all afternoon. It had to be now.

Izuku turned on the bedroom light and grabbed his phone. He put on his fabric mask. He’d record on Snapchat so he could apply a voice filter. He sat on his bed and took a deep breath before starting the video.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, everyone. I’m sure you’ve seen the news, specifically the attack on that summer camp. I’m sure you all know what happened so I won’t go into details. I’m just here to say. . . I’m sorry. The day before the attack I was at the mall and was separated from my class. The villain behind the attack found me and decided to have a “little chat”.

“He asked what he was doing wrong, since Stain seemed to have so much attention. He wanted his message to spread, and I accidentally gave him the way to do it. He wanted to prove that heroes can’t save everyone, and I told him unnecessary violence wasn’t the way to go. So he targeted the camp. I’m so sorry—”

His voice cracked as the tears piling in his eyes broke free.

“I didn’t do anything. I’m a hero and I didn’t do anything! I could have removed his arm before his Quirk took effect. I could have pinned him down and alerted authorities. I could have done something . But because of my mistakes, a student is missing and a child is dead. There is no way I can apologize enough. But I just want you guys to know it’s not U.A.’s fault, it’s mine.”

When he ended the video, he was a mess. His eyes were blotchy and tears soaked into his mask. His nose was stuffy. He wiped his face but continued to cry as he added the voice filter and uploaded the video to his Instagram.

He only hoped it didn’t blow up in his face.

                                                                   _________________

Izuku woke up the next morning in a weird mood. After uploading that video, he turned off his notifications. He almost deleted the app itself, but decided against it.

Instead, he spent his time watching the news. Yamada and Aizawa had banned him from it, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. They hadn’t told him anything, and he understood. He wasn’t part of the investigation.

But the stress of not knowing what was going on was killing him. It was bad enough he had to stay inside. If it wasn’t for his leg, he would have been out there searching.

So whenever he got the chance, he turned on the TV and watched. The news station only repeated the same things, though. The events of the attack itself and their opinions on it.

It was either that or they were broadcasting the press conference Aizawa was currently at. Izuku had turned back to it every once in a while to hear what was going on. Reporters tried to twist their words and put others into their mouths. It looked like Izuku’s video didn’t do much, or they just haven’t seen it.

It hadn’t been until late at night when the stories changed. Suddenly it was live footage of the destruction of Kamino. Heroes were on the scene, helping people evacuate. All Might stood in the middle of the wreckage, along with a villain.

Izuku had felt numb the rest of the night, after seeing All Might deflate and hearing Kacchan had been somewhat safely rescued.

That numbness continued into the morning. He almost didn’t want to leave his room, content with letting his blankets swallow him up. But sooner or later one of the adults would come in. He didn’t want to worry them anymore than he already had.

They had done so much for him already, he couldn’t let his problems burden them. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw that all the things moved from a few nights ago were still where they were moved. The toaster and stand mixer remained unplugged. The cats’ mat was still on the other side. The only thing plugged in was the coffee maker since it was being used.

Izuku was surprised to see Aizawa still dressed up. It wasn’t as fancy as his suit from the press conference, but it was still enough to make Izuku scratch his head in confusion.

“What’s with the tie?” he asked as he entered the kitchen.

Aizawa poured fresh coffee into a mug. “All Might and I have to go to your classmates’ homes to let their parents know about the changes we’re implementing at U.A. Speaking of which. . .” He sipped his coffee. “We’re building a dorm system that students can stay in.”

Izuku paused, letting the word sink in. “Does that include me?” he asked.

“It would, seeing as they’re building a dorm for the teachers as well. If you’re not comfortable, I’m sure Nezu wouldn’t mind having another room built in the teacher’s dorm.”

Izuku shook his head. “That’s okay.” He’d just wear his mask all day. His classmates were great, but he still wasn’t ready to reveal himself. Especially since Kacchan was among them.

He gulped, and forced a smile. He turned to leave, and said, “Good luck,” over his shoulder.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa said in that voice. His teacher voice. His serious voice.

Izuku paused. “Y-yes?”

Aizawa set his mug down. “I know ‘Zashi already talked to you about this, however brief it was.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the video, Midoriya.”

Izuku winced. So it was about that. “It’s true, though.”

“Do you have a Quirk that controls peoples’ actions?”

Izuku shook his head.

“Did you hold a gun to Shigaraki’s head while his group attacked?”

He picked at his cuticles as he shook his head again.

“Then how on earth was it your fault?”

“I-” Izuku stopped. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes. It was different, it just was. He didn’t know how to explain it. “It just is!” He faced away from Aizawa. “It just is.”

Aizawa sighed. “The rest of the class will be working on the special moves they were supposed to do at the camp,” he changed the subject. “While they’re doing that, Hound Dog has agreed to meet with you once a week.”

Izuku’s hands turned into fists. “What will I be doing the rest of the time?”

“Taking notes on your classmates to see where they can improve.”

Izuku nodded. “Alright.” Wanting to be done with the conversation, he went back to his room.

Chapter Text

Entering the new 1-A dorm was strange. Izuku walked behind his class with Aizawa. They watched as his classmates looked around in awe. Uraraka kept making comments about how she’s never lived in a place so big, while Momo kept saying the opposite.

“I would say I expect you all to behave yourselves,” Aizawa said. He sent a glance towards Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero. “But I know that won’t be possible with this group.”

The group in particular let out complaints. Why were they singled out, they knew how to behave, it wasn’t Kaminari’s fault he nearly caused a school-wide blackout!

Aizawa just ignored them in favor of making his way over to the wall on the far right side of the common room. He tapped the two sheets of paper hanging up. “This is a map of the dorms, and right next to it is where your rooms are. All the rooms are the same. Don’t switch rooms without informing a teacher, otherwise you’re expelled.”

At this point in the school year, the students knew his threats of expulsion were just his way of saying they’d be in huge trouble.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and rolled his shoulders. “Now if that’s everything, don’t bother me until tomorrow.”

The class waited until they heard the front doors close before exploding into noise.

“This is so cool!” Kaminari exclaimed, exploring the common room.

“It’s like a permanent sleepover,” Ashido said, wrapping her arms around Uraraka and Jirou’s shoulders.

Seeing everyone distracted with their new living situation, Izuku slipped away to find his room. He heard someone suggest a room design contest and he didn’t really feel like having the entire class in his space. It wasn’t that he thought they would judge him for how few things he had–except Kacchan–he just didn’t want to be around so many people at once. He was still processing what happened with the camp and needed time to sort it out.

He was glad his classmates hadn’t commented on the lack of bags or boxes in his hands. Aizawa had let him bring his stuff early, for privacy reasons, he said.

Once in the safety of his own dorm, he took off his mask. Mei was still away with her parents, but he had convinced her to send photos of the mask’s blueprints so he could attempt to fix it on his own.

But that could wait. He was tired. He had his first therapy appointment with Hound Dog the next day, and he needed his rest.

He wasn’t physically tired, however, so he just laid in his new bed and pulled up HeroTube on his phone. It took him a while to get comfortable. This wasn’t the bed he was used to. This one didn’t have the same soft mattress or the dents that had been left behind from a night’s sleep. It would take some time to get used to.

A few hours later, he was watching an All Might compilation when he heard feet stomping down the hall. His classmates must be judging the rooms now.

He held his breath when the noise stopped outside his door. Someone knocked. He could hear muffled whispers and laughter from the other side. Eventually, since he didn’t answer, the group continued on.

He exhaled, and rolled over to face the wall to continue his video.

                                                                        ___________________

Izuku was awoken by a loud knock at the door.

“Kumo-kun!” came Iida’s voice from the other side. “I don’t want you to be late for the training Aizawa-sensei has planned for us!”

Izuku scrambled for his phone, wondering why his alarm didn’t go off. He found it half buried under his pillow. Upon pressing the screen, he found out why Iida had to wake him up. His phone had died. He silently thanked his rule-abiding friend. Izuku might know Aizawa more than the rest of his class, but he shuddered to think what would have happened if he was late.

He quickly got dressed, just throwing on a simple T-shirt and sweatpants, being careful of his cast. His eyes lingered on all the signatures longer than they should have. It still made him giddy, like he couldn’t believe it. It made him sad when he realized it would be gone in a few weeks.

He stuffed his hair into his beanie and put on his cloth mask, slipping the old voice changer in. He really missed his other mask. He wondered if he could fix it himself. He should be able to, it was only the straps that were broken. Maybe he could bother Power Loader and see if there was any of the same material lying around.

Izuku exited his room and headed down to the common room. Most of his classmates were already there, either lounging on the couches to try to sneak a few more minutes of rest or in the kitchen getting breakfast. Izuku wasn’t that hungry, so he just got himself a bowl of fruit and a glass of orange juice–with Iida’s permission, of course.

He managed to find a spot on one of the couches and let his leg stretch out. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through social media as he ate. A problem was made clear when he tried to drink his juice, and instead it stained his mask.

“Do we have any straws?” he called out, looking over into the kitchen. He could hear the sound of cabinets and drawers opening and closing, before a resounding, “No!” came back.

Izuku sighed, and stared at his cup. He was coming to terms with either wasting it by pouring it down the sink or giving it to Iida so he could have the extra fuel when a straw fell into the cup. Looking up, he saw Yaoyorozu putting her hand back down.

“Thanks!” he exclaimed. He slipped the straw under his mask and sipped. Yaoyorozu smiled softly before heading back to wherever she was eating her breakfast.

It took ten minutes for the rest of the classmates to arrive, and another ten for the front doors to open. Aizawa walked down the hall with his usual tired expression.

“Alright,” he said, effectively silencing all conversations. “Today we’ll be picking up where the camp left off. Change into your hero costumes and head to Gym Gamma.”

With that, Aizawa turned around and exited the building. Noise erupted soon after. Many of the classmates wondered and theorized amongst themselves about what they would be doing. Iida clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, and quickly rounded them all together so they could get to the gym on time.

Izuku wondered what he would be doing. Aizawa hadn’t had the time to let him know what day he’d be with Hound Dog.

He followed his classmates out the door. While they headed for the locker rooms to change, Izuku changed his path and headed right towards the gym. Few classmates glanced at him, since he wasn’t with them anymore.

When he walked into Gym Gamma, he saw Aizawa talking to Cementoss. Aizawa was explaining whatever he was talking about, and Cementoss was nodding along, occasionally adding in his thoughts. As Izuku approached, the two turned to face him. He waved at Cementoss, who nodded in greeting before wandering off. Rumbles soon echoed throughout the room.

Aizawa glanced down at Izuku’s leg. “Alright,” he started, “since today is Monday and we both don’t want to put this off, you’re going to Hound Dog. Afterwards, I want you to stop by Recovery Girl’s office so she can heal that leg.”

Izuku nodded. “Does that mean I’m no longer in trouble for that night?”

Aizawa sighed. “I should have taken you to her sooner. The things you’ve been through after it were punishment enough.”

The grin Izuku had slid off his face. “Right.”

Every nerve in Izuku’s body felt like it was on fire the moment he arrived at Hound Dog’s office. He had no idea how long he stood there with his fist raised, ready to knock. Eventually, he had to force his other hand to grab his wrist and knock.

There was some shuffling, and then a deep, “Come in.”

Izuku took a deep breath and opened the door. He didn’t know what to expect from Hound Dog’s office. There were some motivational posters on the walls, the ones with stereotypical phrases like the cat holding onto a branch saying, “Hang in there.” There were two couches, both facing each other. Next to them was a table with a box of what looked like fidget toys.

Hound Dog gestured for Izuku to take a seat.

“Good morning, Kumo-kun,” he said. “Is there another name you’d like to be called?”

Izuku shook his head. “Not yet.”

“That’s alright.” Hound Dog had his clipboard on his lap. The paper was blank. “How has your summer been so far?”

Izuku blinked. He wasn’t expecting that question. He thought they’d jump right into it, no matter how unprepared he was. He thought Hound Dog would ask him why he was there.

“It was. . . Mostly good, I think,” Izuku replied. “I didn’t get to hang out with my friends much after the summer camp, but we did the first week.”

“Did you go anywhere fun or were you just enjoying the company?”

Izuku smiled, feeling himself relax a bit. “We went to a cat cafe. Mei had us do a fun drink trend, and Hitoshi ended up spilling it on himself.” He laughed at the memory.

Hound Dog nodded, smiling slightly. It looked strange, considering he didn’t have a human face, but Izuku understood the idea. “You said it was mostly good, do you want to elaborate on that?”

Izuku sighed. “I guess I should, that’s why I’m here.”

Hound Dog tilted his head. “You don’t have to speak on anything you don’t want to.”

Izuku thought on that. He really could just sit there and wait for the session to be done. He could waste both their time and continue talking about the good things that have happened. Though, was it really wasting time when he was just trying to make himself comfortable enough to open up?

“I. . . I’m sure you heard about what happened at the camp. Before the camp, I was patrolling. There was a fire in a building and I helped get people out, but I got trapped and broke my leg again. That kept me from going to the camp. I just, I feel guilty about not going because I could have helped. I could have gotten Kouta out, or at least minimize the injuries.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Hound Dog stared deep into Izuku’s eyes, as if he could see into his soul. “Why do you feel the need to save everyone?”

Izuku swallowed, chewing on his words before speaking. “I. . . I need to show them that you don’t need the right Quirk to save people.”

Hound Dog tilted his head. “Them?”

“Heroes.”

“Why do you need to show them?”

Izuku’s fingers curled into his palms. He stayed silent. He wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.

Hound Dog seemed to sense that, and changed the subject. “It looks like our hour for the day is up.” He set his notepad down on his lap. “Out of curiosity, how would you rate your first session?”

Izuku shrugged. “Maybe five out of ten?”

Hound Dog’s ear flicked. “Care to explain?”

Izuku stared down at his hands. “I don’t know, I just, I didn’t talk much.”

Hound Dog smiled softly. “Kumo. I would say your first session grants a much higher number than that. It’s common for most beginning sessions to start with the therapist and patient just getting to know each other. Some take a while to even begin talking, let alone about the issues bringing them there.”

Izuku racked a hand through his hair. “I know, I just. . . I want to get better, I don’t like how hard it is to talk about.”

“Therapy is hard work, Kumo. No matter how much you want it, you won’t be better after one session. Talking through trauma is difficult and it’ll take–”

“I know that!” Izuku interrupted. He sighed. “Sorry. See you next week.” He was out the door before Hound Dog could say anything.

                                                                        _____________________

He looked around the hallway, confused as to why flames and falling wood surrounded him. Why was he back there? Had everything after he’d been knocked out been a dream? How was his leg not broken? His back and arms didn’t itch and pull with burns. What was happening?

A familiar voice cried out. He dashed into the child’s bedroom. This time the child was on his bed rather than under it. “Kousei-kun,” Kumo said softly. He carefully picked up the child. “It’ll be okay. I’ll get you out and look for your mom.”

Kousei nodded, and buried his face into Kumo’s chest. Kumo held him tightly as he searched for the window he had come in earlier. He couldn’t find it.

He frowned and coughed, waving smoke out of his face. It was just right there, wasn’t it? Windows couldn’t just get up and walk away. But before him was a bare wall.

He huffed and changed his path. He exited the apartment room and ran down the hallway. He had to backtrack a bit, because he had passed a window. He was confused as to why there was a single window in the hallway, but didn’t question it.

“Alright,” Kumo said to Kousei, “I’m going to put my webbing on your hands and carefully lower you out, okay?”

“Kumo-”

“It’ll be fine,” he interrupted, covering the child’s hands. “The heroes down there won’t let you fall.”

He didn’t let Kousei protest. The webbing did, however, as he was lowered. Not so much where it broke, but enough for Kumo to speed up. If it did break, he’d want Kousei to be as close to the ground as possible.

“Kumo.”

Kumo paused. Did Kousei’s voice get deeper? That didn’t make sense.

“Kumo? Kumo !”

Izuku gasped and stepped back. The flames around him disappeared into the walls of the dorms. He felt colder. How did he get there? He looked out the window, and instead of seeing Kousei he saw his All Might plushie. He pulled it up.

He stiffened up, realizing he had been dreaming and someone had woken him up. Izuku didn’t wear his mask while he slept. He didn’t think he’d need to. He slowly looked over.

Tokoyami stood to his right. “Are you alright?”

Izuku was quick to nod. “Yep!” He smacked his hands over his face. “Please don’t tell anyone!”

He ran back to his room, barely hearing Tokoyami’s, “Of course,” as he did. Izuku closed the door and pressed his back against it, sliding down to the floor. He sat there for a few minutes, staring at his knees. Well, looks like I’ll have to talk to Hound Dog about that .

                                                                 __________________

“Alright, that’s the end of our time,” Aizawa called out. Around the room, students groaned and some fell down; some from Quirk overuse, some from just plain exhaustion, and some because they wanted to be dramatic. Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Same time tomorrow.”

He turned to leave, before stopping suddenly. “Oh yeah. Classes start in three days, don’t forget.”

The groans were louder this time.

Aizawa looked to his right. “Kumo, meet me outside.”

Izuku looked up from where he was scribbling in his notebook. He was finishing down his analysis on Hagakure’s Quirk. He was pretty sure it wasn’t actually invisibility and he wanted to ask her about it. “Yes, sensei!”

Izuku swallowed. He had a feeling he knew what this was about. Over the last few weeks, he’d been sleepwalking more. Thankfully, he had taken to wearing his mask now, but he had been woken up by other classmates. He knew it wasn’t good or safe to wear a mask while sleeping, but he didn’t want anyone else to see him. What if one night it was Kacchan that woke him up? If Kacchan saw him, Izuku was sure he’d blow him up.

He’d been woken up by Jirou, Kouda, and Uraraka, and he didn’t want to add to that list. So instead of sleeping, he had chosen to sneak out and run over to the class 1-C dorms to hide in Hitoshi’s room. With Hitoshi’s insomnia, he was able to keep Izuku in his room if he did fall asleep.

“Kumo,” Todoroki was standing in front of him, “I want to ask you something.”

Izuku grinned under his mask. He closed his notebook and stood up. “Sure!”

Nothing could have prepared him for Todoroki’s question.

“Are you Aizawa-sensei’s secret love child?”

Izuku blinked, staring wide-eyed at the boy. “What?”

“Even before the dorms, he would keep you after class a lot to talk to you,” Todoroki explained. The small curious glint in his eyes made it hard for Izuku to take this seriously. “You both fight Quirkless. Is it possible that the gene that gave him Erasure erased your Quirk permanently?”

That was what broke Izuku. He burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the few students that still remained. He hunched over, clutching his stomach. “Oh my god,” he gasped out, wiping stray tears from his eyes. “That’s not possible, Todoroki-kun.”

“How?”

Izuku stood up. “I’m not supposed to say this. In fact,” he looked around, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Aizawa-sensei could somehow overhear this. But he isn’t straight. So I can assure you we’re not biologically related.”

A look of understanding washed over Todoroki. “So you’re adopted.”

Izuku waved his hands in front of him. “No, no, you misunderstand. He was the hero assigned to my case before I joined your class.”

A mischievous expression briefly crossed Todoroki’s face. “I understand. You were captured by him, then given the choice between U.A. where he could keep an eye on you, or jail. Then he adopted you.”

“No-”

Todoroki nodded. “Thank you for this, I will go add it to my board.” He walked away.

Izuku ran after him. “What board?! There’s no conspiracy theory, Todoroki-kun!” His pleas were ignored. He chased Todoroki outside the gym, and stopped when he saw Aizawa leaning against the wall.

The man pushed himself up and gestured for Izuku to follow him. They walked in silence until Izuku broke it.

“Todoroki-kun thinks you adopted me.”

Aizawa stopped for a second, before continuing. “Illogical.”

Chapter Text

Izuku was once again trying to rescue Kousei, once again in the apartment. Only this time, the apartment was familiar. Izuku looked around at the burning walls, burning furniture, and collapsing door frames. Why was it familiar?

“Izuku!”

Izuku spun around, Kousei still in his arms. His eyes widened. That’s why. “Mom!” he yelled.

His mother was trapped under a wooden beam. She stretched out her arm, desperately trying to get to him. Izuku took a step forward. The floor groaned in protest. He stepped back. It wasn’t stable enough to get to her, at least not while he was carrying Kouta. Wait. Izuku thought he was carrying Kousei. He shook his head. It didn’t matter.

He looked between the two of them. He knew he only had time to save one. He’d have to put down Kouta–no, Kousei was back–in order to safely get to his mom. The window next to her was open. But the floor would give out if he went back for Kousei.

If he prioritized Kousei, he would have to lower him out slowly and the wooden beam above them would fall and the floor would collapse. They’d both die on impact.

Izuku wanted to cry. He loved his mom, but he wanted to save Kousei or Kouta or whoever he was holding right now. Why couldn’t he save them all? Why couldn’t he have saved his mom when he had the chance?

“You really are useless, Deku.”

Izuku’s head jerked to the side. “Kacchan?”

Kacchan stalked forward. The floor underneath groaned and moved. Izuku silently pleaded for him to stop.

“What kind of hero are you if you can’t save both?” Kacchan grinned. “Oh that’s right, you aren’t one. You’re just playing pretend.”

“No!” Izuku yelled. “That’s not true.”

Kacchan cocked his head. “Then why can’t you?” His expression turned mocking. “Wait.” He snapped his fingers. “You don’t have a Quirk. That’s why those useless heroes prevented you from saving your mom. You can’t do anything, just like now.”

He stepped forward. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He grabbed Kouta from Izuku’s arms. “I’ll save the brat. You’ll run over to your mom.”

Kacchan vanished.

Izuku snapped out of his shock and bolted over to his mom. However, he had forgotten about the floor’s stability. He reached his hand out, barely touching her fingertips, when the floor gave out. They both screamed. Both fell into darkness.

                                                                     __________________

Izuku held back a yawn as he tried to keep his head from falling onto the common room table. He had a notebook spread out in front of him, filled to the brim with his messy writing that only he could understand. Next to him was a plate of what was supposed to be breakfast that had now gone cold. Izuku was too focused on trying to finish up some last minute homework questions. He had tried to work on it last night when he couldn’t sleep, but he was unable to concentrate.

His nightmares have gotten worse. The sleepwalking hadn’t stopped, either. It was a variation of either saving Kousei who morphed into Kouta or vice versa. Each time he’d been woken up, his All Might plushie was attached to a web. One time, he had dreamt about saving Kouta from Muscular by launching him off a mountain while he held onto webbing only to wake up and see his All Might plushie stuck in a tree. He always woke up before Kouta or Kousei hit the ground.

He didn’t miss the concerned glances from the classmates who woke him up. He had seen Uraraka and Jirou whispering to each other, looking at him occasionally. They were doing that right now, actually. Uraraka was able to talk quieter with Jirou’s Quirk, so no one around them could overhear.

Izuku was so focused on his homework that he almost didn’t see them leave the dorm a little too early.

A loud slam startled him. He yelped, the noise sounding odd due to his voice changer, and covered his shoulder. He could practically feel the burning sensation.

“Who the hell used my chili flakes?” A familiar voice yelled from the kitchen.

After finding no threat, Izuku unwrapped himself from the small, hunched over position he was in. The pain from his shoulder was gone. He pulled back the shirt just to make sure.

“Calm down, Bakugou,” Kaminari said, “it’s 7:15, why would you want something spicy so early?”

Izuku frowned. That didn’t make sense. He had felt the pain, but hadn’t been attacked.

“It’s an expensive brand, Dunce Face!” Kacchan yelled back, explosions popping from his hands. “Now I only have half a bag and who knows when I’ll get more!”

“Bakugou,” Iida chastised, “I must urge you not to use your Quirk.”

“Shut up, Four-Eyes!”

Kacchan then stomped out of the kitchen, hands still popping. One particular explosion was too close to Izuku, who flinched and went back into that curled up position. The explosions stopped. Kacchan muttered to himself as he walked away.

After a few seconds, Izuku sat up. Why had Kacchan’s explosion bothered him so much? Even when they were in school together, he never had a reaction like that. Izuku chose to believe it was just because of last night’s nightmare, but he would bring it up with Hound Dog next time.

                                                              ___________________

When the bell rang for lunch, Aizawa asked Izuku to stay back for a few minutes. Izuku yawned and slowly packed up his stuff. It was better than packing fast and having to wait and watch everyone leave.

Uraraka and Jirou threw him a look before walking out the door.

Izuku swallowed. Once the room was empty except for him and his teacher, Izuku stood up and made his way over to Aizawa’s desk. They stared at each other before Aizawa spoke.

“Uraraka and Jirou told me something.”

Izuku nodded.

“You’re sleepwalking?”

He nodded again.

Aizawa sighed. “Nezu built an extra room in the teacher’s dorms. If you want to keep your face hidden from your classmates, you’re more than welcome to move in.”

Izuku shook his head. “No, that’s fine! I just wear a mask when I sleep. It’s fine, I don’t need to move.”

Aizawa looked Izuku up and down. “Kid, you’re barely standing right now. There is no way you’re sleeping. I’ve heard from other teachers that you’re falling asleep in class. I let it slide because your work is still being done, but then Uraraka and Jirou came to me.”

Izuku dropped his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Aizawa rubbed a hand down his face. “What’s going on? Nightmares?”

Izuku nodded. “They’ve gotten worse. Kacchan is in them now.”

“Who is ‘Kacchan’?”

Izuku shrugged. “Nobody, just someone I knew. Childhood friend, I guess.”

Aizawa muttered something like, “this is above my pay grade.”

“Sounds like more than nobody,” Aizawa said. He paused. “I want you to visit Hound Dog during lunch. You can bring your food with you.”

Izuku nodded. He turned around and headed towards the door. He reached to open it, but paused when he heard feet running away. He slid the door open. Nobody was around. Thinking the lack of sleep was getting to him, he ignored it.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I’ve started having nightmares with an old childhood bully,” was the first thing Izuku said to Hound Dog. He was sitting cross-legged in his chair, lunch tray resting on his knees. “And hypothetically, sometimes things happen that remind me of him and it makes me freeze up. What do I do about that?”

Hound Dog hummed. “Well, hypothetically stress and PTSD show in strange ways. It’s not uncommon for people to show symptoms after they’ve been away from the cause for a while. It’s the body’s way of telling them they’re safe and need to understand what happened.”

Izuku nodded. “But it’s been years since he’s done anything, I’ve been in a safe place for months. Why is it starting now?”

“Has anything happened recently? Sometimes other sources that are similar to the old stressor can cause those memories to resurface, especially if you haven’t had the chance to unpack them before.”

Izuku took a bite of his katsudon, looking down at the tray. What hasn’t happened? Hosu? Fire. That apartment? Fire. His old apartment? Fire. Kacchan’s Quirk? Fire again. Why did his whole life center around fire?

He sighed. “Yeah.” He looked up. “What can I do about it?”

Hound Dog leaned forward. “For starters, stop staying up all night. Sleep deprivation will make the nightmares worse. It would also be good to talk about them with someone.”

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. “I talk to you, though.”

Hound Dog chuckled. “Someone other than me. It’s a bad habit to fall into, only talking about your feelings in therapy. It can inadvertently cause someone to feel ashamed, especially since therapy is for some reason considered a taboo subject to most.” Hound Dog tilted his head. “Besides, I’m sure you’d find some advice from someone your age.”

Izuku nodded slowly. He could do that, though he didn’t really want to. He knew how he worried Hitoshi and Mei, especially with recent events. He didn’t want them to treat him weird; as if he were made of glass, or worse.

“What if. . . What if my friends think of me differently? I don’t want them to think I’m broken.”

Hound Dog was silent for a moment. “They might be a little more careful around you, at first. It will be jarring to hear what their friend is going through. Though, in my opinion, if they treat you as less than or act hostile, then they were never your friends.”

Izuku agreed with that. “Alright. I’ll try.”

Hound Dog nodded. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured. “Sometimes it’s better to get used to talking in therapy before, and seeing how this is our second session it might not hurt to do so. The choice is ultimately up to you. Though, I do want you to sleep more. If those bags under your eyes aren’t lighter the next time we meet, I will consider telling Aizawa-kun.”

Izuku swallowed, but nodded.

The session ended, and Izuku felt lighter as he exited the room. He was just in time, too, as lunch just ended. He quickly found Uraraka and Iida and joined them.

“Hi, Kumo-kun!” Uraraka said, grinning. “How was your lunch?”

“It was good.” That wasn’t too far from the truth. The food was good, but he’d rather spend the time with his friends.

“You weren’t at the table,” Uraraka pointed out. “Where were you?”

Izuku inhaled sharply. Uraraka blinked up at him expectantly.

“Kumo-kun does not have to disclose his whereabouts if he does not want to,” Iida spoke, arm slicing through the air, “as long as he ate a healthy meal.”

“Oh, right of course!” Uraraka said. “Sorry.”

Izuku shook his head. “No, it’s alright.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He took a deep breath. “I was talking with Hound Dog.”

He waited for them to snicker or make fun of them.

“Did he let you eat in his office?” Iida asked.

Izuku blinked. That was. . . not what he was expecting. “Yes?”

“Was it healthy?”

“Not really. It was katsudon.”

And with that, the tension was broken as Iida went into a lecture about eating healthy, especially since they were heroes in training. Uraraka giggled. Izuku met her eyes. She gave a warm smile, and Izuku knew he was in good hands.

As they walked back to the classroom, someone bumped into Izuku’s shoulder. Red eyes and spikey hair glared at him.

“Watch it!”

Instinctively, Izuku nodded and said, “Sorry, Kacchan.”

They both froze; Izuku in mortification, and Kacchan in rare confusion.

“Oh my god,” Izuku muttered under his breath. “I’m so sorry!” Quick think of an explanation. “You remind me of someone I used to know.” Not that!

He didn’t wait for Kacchan to speak, didn’t listen to Uraraka and Iida’s confused and concerned voices. He walked away as fast as he could without being suspicious. He decided to go into the bathroom and wait for them to pass by.

Izuku locked himself in a stall and slid down to the floor. He flung his beanie off in favor of gripping his hair tightly.

Oh god. Kacchan knew. He had to know. There had been only one person in his life who called him by that nickname. Kacchan knew he went to school there, or at least he did.

Izuku tilted his head back, resting it on the stall door. He was screwed.

                                                                   __________________

Hizashi sat next to his husband in the teacher’s lounge. They were both grading. Every few minutes, Hizashi would glance at Shouta. He watched as his red pen made marks on the papers, listened to him sigh and mutter something about street smarts and book smarts.

Hizashi’s heart pounded against his chest. They were alone for once, and Hizashi wanted to take advantage of that. He just didn’t know how to bring it up.

Eventually, Shouta sighed and dropped his pen. “Yes?”

Hizashi jumped, not realizing Shouta had noticed him staring. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. “How do you feel about children?”

Shouta glanced at him. “I’m a teacher, I have no obvious dislike towards them.” He sat up and faced Hizashi. “What is this about?”

Hizashi shrugged. “He’s been living with us for a while. Why not make it official?”

“It would paint a target on his back,” Shouta said. “Bigger than the one he already has with the League of Villains. Adoption records are public, if villains found out they would go after him outside of Kumo.”

Hizashi paused. He had a point. “Fair enough. However I would like to argue that we could protect him more if we did adopt rather than not. If something happens, CPS could take him away. Then we wouldn’t know anything about his safety.”

Shouta opened his mouth to respond, but Hizashi held up his hand. “And anyway, you said yourself that you see him as your own kid.”

Shouta sighed, and Hizashi grinned triumphantly. There was no arguing with that. Shouta would rather hug All Might than admit he was illogical.

Shouta stared at his papers. “I’ll get the forms at the end of the day.”

Chapter Text

When the bell rang, students began packing up their stuff. Cementoss reminded them of the essay due in a week, but it went ignored. Only a handful of students acknowledged him.

Izuku walked between Uraraka and Todoroki.

Uraraka threw her head back, groaning. “The essay is so hard!” she complained. “How far are you guys?”

“Nearly finished,” both Izuku and Todoroki said.

Uraraka moved her head back and forth, looking at them with her mouth agape. “How?” she exclaimed, hands flying up to pull at her hair. “I’m so lost!”

“I am willing to tutor you-”

“Yes!” Uraraka shouted, reaching across Izuku to grab Todoroki by the collar of his shirt. She pulled him close, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please!”

Izuku took a few steps back as Todoroki raised the hallway’s temperature. Todoroki stared at Uraraka as he struggled to speak.

“When are you available?” he eventually asked.

Izuku decided to slow his pace and walked behind them, so Uraraka could let go of Todoroki’s shirt. While they were busy discussing their impromptu study session, Izuku turned left and headed towards the teacher’s lounge. Yamada had asked him to stop by after his last class. Whatever he had wanted to talk about must have been private, otherwise they could have just walked to the dorms together.

After a few more nights of having to wear his mask while sleeping, Izuku decided he had enough and agreed to move into the teacher’s dorms. Sleeping with a mask on all the time probably wasn’t the best idea. So while he was in class, Aizawa had packed up his things and put them in his new dorm. Izuku wasn’t sure if the class was told.

When Izuku entered the lounge, he saw that Yamada was the only one in there at the moment. He was busy grading, so Izuku just took a seat on one of the couches. He pulled out his own homework while he waited.

Roughly ten minutes passed before Yamada even looked up from his stacks of papers. He did a double take. “Oh, geez!” he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest. “You scared me! Why didn’t you say something?”

Izuku shrugged. “You were busy, and the doors aren’t exactly quiet.” He bit his lip. “What did you want to talk about?”

Yamada swallowed. “I’d rather have that conversation with Shouta.” He started picking up the papers and put them messily in folders.

Izuku frowned. He fiddled with his tie. “It’s not a bad topic, is it?”

“No!” Yamada assured. He paused. “Well, it all depends on how you take it.”

Izuku kept his head down as they walked out of the building. Why had Yamada asked to see him after school if he was just going to make him wait longer? Now the suspense was killing him.

As they got closer to the teacher’s dorms, Izuku’s thoughts took a turn. This was it. They were going to get rid of him. They had enough of his crap and his things were packed back up. He was going to get kicked out, not only of his home but out of U.A. Good luck getting a job anywhere with an expulsion on your record, let alone the best hero school in Japan.

Izuku forced himself to take deep breaths, and walked himself through a calming method Hound Dog suggested: go back through the negative thoughts and argue against them.

They weren’t getting rid of him. They wouldn’t have brought his things all the way over to the teacher’s dorms if they were just going to kick him out. They consistently supported him, the rest of the staff as well. He had no reason to suspect he was getting expelled. Nezu would have said something and they would be in the office instead.

When they entered the dorm, Izuku felt calmer. Not better, but he felt like he was ready to handle whatever Yamada and Aizawa wanted to talk about.

He waved at the other teachers who were in the common room. It was just Midnight, Snipe, and Ectoplasm at the moment. Izuku still hadn’t taken off his mask in front of them, aside from Midnight, of course. He’d do it later tonight.

Yamada led Izuku to the room he shared with Aizawa. They had a much bigger space, not just because they were sharing, but because they needed the room for the cats. Yamada and Aizawa only agreed to move into the dorms once they had confirmed that nobody was allergic, and that the cats would behave around Hound Dog.

Currently, Fluffy was the only one in the room. He was curled up next to Aizawa, who sat on their bed. He was hunched over, looking down at a file. Hearing the door open, he glanced up, closed the file, and moved so he sat on the edge of the bed. Fluffy remained asleep.

Yamada moved so he sat next to his husband. Aizawa looked over at him, and grabbed his hand.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa started. He tapped his knee with his other hand as he thought. “This. . . this is a huge question, and it’s alright if you need to think about it. It’s alright if you say no, even. We would understand.”

Izuku tilted his head. “Ask what?”

Aizawa took a deep breath. “Yamada and I were talking, and we thought it over-”

Yamada, not appreciating Aizawa dragging it out, cut him off. “We want to adopt you.”

Izuku stared, his body tense. His shoulders hunched up to his ears. The mental pep talk he had did not prepare him for this. Surely he just misheard them. He was silent, waiting for them to say something. Say that it was a joke, that they weren’t serious.

“Why?” he settled on. “Why would you. . .” Want me? Put yourself through this? He wasn’t sure what he was going to ask.

“You’re a good kid, Midoriya. We don’t want to lose you if something went wrong,” Aizawa said.

Before Izuku could even begin self-deprecating in his mind Yamada added, “and you fit right in! You’ve been living with us for a while, and we already think of you as our son. Why not make it official?”

“It’s different when it’s your own son, Hizashi!”

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut as fresh tears made their way down his face. He shakily gasped, and tugged off his mask. The tears didn’t stop even as he swiped repeatedly at his face. His whole body shook. Something pulled him forward, and a pair of arms wrapped around him. Another had rubbed his back.

He realized that they were waiting for an answer, even if they said they could wait. Pulling back a bit, he looked up at both of them. “Whose last name would I take?”

A grin spread across Yamada’s face. His arms around Izuku tightened, and Izuku only had seconds to prepare himself. Yamada stood up, Izuku still in his grip, and spun around.

He whooped out loud. “I have a son!” Yamada gently set Izuku down, and rubbed his hand through Izuku’s hair.

Izuku laughed. He watched as Yamada turned around and began hunting for something.

“The papers are in the drawer,” Aizawa said. He made brief eye contact with Izuku and quickly looked away. Izuku saw the smallest smile.

Izuku couldn’t believe it. He was going to have a family again. It wouldn’t be the same without his mom, but he would get two dads. If he was being honest, Izuku didn’t even remember his biological one. All he knew was that he kept sending money, and that his mom never took off her ring.

Izuku froze. He couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. Did they. . . Either she was really sentimental, or they never got divorced.

“Wait,” he said. Yamada paused as he pulled out the papers he was looking for. Both adults stared. “I just realized. . . I don’t know if my parents were divorced when my mom died.”

Yamada’s grin fell. He looked over at his husband. Izuku tried to follow the silent conversation they were having, but had no luck.

“Do you know if they declared you dead or missing?” Aizawa asked.

Izuku shook his head. “Not that I know of. I spent days reading every article, both online and newspapers, to see if my mom had survived. None of them mentioned me.” He shrugged. “But I’m just some Quirkless kid, it wouldn’t have made headlines anyway.”

Aizawa pulled out his phone. “I’ll ask Tsukauchi about it.”

Yamada’s grin returned, much softer now. “We’re willing to fight for this if you’ll let us.”

Izuku’s lips trembled, and he dove back into his teachers’ arms.

                                                                   ___________________

“Alright,” Aizawa said as the last student entered the gym. All Might stood next to him. “Today we’re doing something different.” He paused, letting the students wonder amongst themselves what he meant. “Instead of just letting you spar, we’re actually going to teach you something.”

He motioned for All Might to get closer. Some students gasped and began muttering to each other when All Might reached out and started choking Aizawa. However, they quickly shut up after a blur of movement freed Aizawa and left All Might struggling to stand.

Their teacher helped the retired hero steady himself before turning to face the class. “How to get out of chokeholds.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Of course, you could just kick or punch your way out. Some of you could use your Quirk. But you don’t know what types of villains you’ll encounter until you’re face-to-face.”

He looked at the students. “Kaminari,” he beckoned him over. Kaminari gulped, but shuffled over until he stood next to Aizawa. Aizawa wrapped his hands around Kaminari’s neck, but didn’t squeeze. “Try to get out without your Quirk.”

Kaminari didn’t do anything for a few moments. Then he threw a punch at Aizawa’s face. Aizawa jerked his head to the side. Kaminari tried again. Aizawa moved his head back. Kaminari began hitting down on Aizawa’s elbows. They didn’t budge.

After a few pathetic attempts, Aizawa nodded and let go. He dismissed Kaminari, who went back to his friends to sulk.

“Sato,” Aizawa called. Sato took Kaminari’s spot. Aizawa looked at Kaminari. “You had the right idea to go for the elbows.” He turned to Sato. “Put your hands on my neck, but don’t squeeze.”

Once Sato was in position, Aizawa did the same move as before, and knocked Sato back a bit. He gestured for Sato to once again put his hands on his neck.

“The key,” Aizawa said, “is to go as fast as you can so they don’t have time to react.”

This time, he went slow so the class could see. He snaked one hand over Sato’s left arm and the other under his right arm. His hands clasped each other, and he jerked to the left, causing Sato’s arms to go in the opposite direction they were supposed to. Sato let go of Aizawa.

“That’s method one of three,” Aizawa continued. “Method two is my personal favorite.” He grinned.

This time, when Sato moved back into position, Aizawa clasped both hands above Sato’s left arm and slammed them down. Then he hit the other elbow. “There is another step where you punch them in the face, but I don’t feel like doing that today so you’re not going to either.”

Method one was called the Snake. Method two was called the Triangle. And method three was the Turnover.

With method three, Aizawa once again clasped both hands above Sato’s arms. But this time when he brought them down, he quickly turned so Sato’s arms and body followed him. Sato’s fists were now pinned to Aizawa’s abdomen. He went on to explain that this was where you would deliver a kick to the knee or groin but that again he wasn’t going to so neither were the students.

After the demonstrations, he paired everyone up, saying whoever you were closest to was your partner. Aizawa took one half of the class and All Might took the other.

Izuku looked around, watching everyone pair up. He spun around, trying to see who was closest. He locked eyes.

Izuku and Kacchan stared at each other. Izuku swallowed as Kacchan approached. Was he not going to bring it up? Did he even know? Of course he did, there was no way he didn’t. Literally nobody else has called him Kacchan in his life.

Kacchan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Well? You just gonna stand there?”

Izuku blinked and shook his head. Right. They were in class, they had training to do. Of course he wouldn’t bring it up right then and there.

“Sorry,” Izuku said. “How are we doing this? Tallest goes first?”

Kacchan shrugged. “Whatever, doesn’t matter. Just get over here.”

Izuku swallowed, but moved so he stood an arms length away from the blond. It was easy to perform the movements when Kacchan’s hands weren’t pressing down. Izuku went through each move twice before Kacchan decided to spice it up.

Izuku was thrown off, not expecting him to apply pressure until Aizawa told them to. Although, in a real fight there wouldn’t be a warning. However, it was enough to make Izuku pause. He was quickly able to get back into the rhythm and used the Snake method to remove Kacchan’s hands.

Every time Kacchan put his hands back on Izuku’s neck, he got a bit tighter. It wasn’t to the point where he couldn’t breathe, but he was starting to panic. Why? Why was he freaking out like this?

He did the Turn method that time.

His arms trembled as he locked them around Kacchan’s wrists. What was happening?

Hound Dog’s voice whispered in his mind. Sometime’s PTSD shows in strange ways.

Izuku wanted to roll his eyes. He wouldn’t call this a strange way, but it was yet another thing to add to the list of what he needed to talk about.

They eventually switched spots, and Izuku was glad for that little break. His throat was starting to hurt. It was their first time learning this, why did he insist on going all in?

Izuku wanted to laugh at that thought the moment it crossed his mind. Kacchan always put 100% into everything–his grades, his bullying, his workouts. Why would that stop now?

He decided to ask anyway. “Why are you squeezing so hard?”

Kacchan scoffed. “If you want to be unprepared for a real battle, fine by me. But don’t come crying when you get killed.”

Yep. He shouldn’t have bothered.

After the fifth time he was thrown to the ground, Izuku could tell Kacchan was getting frustrated with how weak Izuku gripped him. But Izuku just couldn’t bring himself to hurt his childhood friend, even in a training environment.

He knew he should have tapped out when they switched back, but Izuku was so far into his head that he couldn’t even see the gym around them. Instead, he saw a very old classroom. And a very young Kacchan.

Why? Why Aldera? Sure, Kacchan had started getting physical when they entered junior high, but he never went that far. Izuku swore he saw tentacles like that octopus villain he fought come out from under Kacchan’s pant legs.

Izuku brought his hands up to grip Kacchan’s wrists, forgoing all the practice they just did.

Just as his vision started to get blurry, something distracted Kacchan enough to let Izuku go. Izuku stumbled back, and Aldera faded away. His legs shook as they fought to support him. He coughed and sputtered, holding his throat.

He looked up and saw the entire class staring at him. Kacchan was glaring at him. He felt his face turn red.

“What happened?” Aizawa asked, putting himself slightly in front of Kacchan.

Izuku wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I just, he- octopus-” his voice delved into more coughs. He squeezed his eyes shut. Aizawa sighed.

“All Might will escort you to Recovery Girl,” Aizawa said. Then, he lowered his voice so only Izuku could hear. “Talk to Hound Dog after.”

Izuku nodded, and turned around to walk next to All Might.

“Bakugou,” he heard Aizawa say. “This is practice, you’re not supposed to make your partners faint.”

Kacchan’s, “I didn’t do anything!” was what Izuku heard before the gym door closed behind the pair.

The two walked in silence. They were halfway to the infirmary when All Might spoke up.

“Is everything alright, young Kumo?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you struggle like that in class before.”

Izuku took a shaky inhale. He kept his eyes on the ground. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t. He looked up, giving the former number one hero a smile. “I’ll get over it.” Would he?

All Might clearly didn’t believe him, but didn’t push anything.

Izuku glanced at him. He remembered Hound Dog’s words. It would be good to talk to someone other than me . All Might’s been a hero for decades, he should have good advice.

Izuku stopped walking. All Might looked over his shoulder, no longer seeing Izuku next to him nor hearing his footsteps.

“How do you deal with it? With not saving everyone?” Izuku asked, his voice just above a whisper.

All Might approached. “It’s hard. Sometimes it keeps me up. But I have to remind myself that I did the best I could and anything else was out of my control.”

Izuku sniffed. He thought of Kouta. Of his mom. “If you. . . If you could go back in time to save someone, would you?”

All Might opened his mouth, but hesitated. “No,” he settled on. “No matter how much it hurts, I wouldn’t go back. Those events shaped me into who I am today, and even though my heart aches to think about it, I would not change it.”

The man slowly knelt down. He placed his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, holding eye contact. “You are going through so much at such a young age. One of the best things you can do right now is remind yourself that you’re doing your absolute best, okay?”

Izuku nodded.

“Can you say it?”

“I. . .” Izuku swallowed. “I’m doing my best.”

All Might smiled. “That’s right, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.” He stood up, placing a hand on Izuku’s back and gently nudging him forward. “We should get going, you still have to see Recovery Girl.”

Chapter Text

It was the weekend, and most students had gone home, leaving the dorms mostly empty. It was also raining, so despite the fact that Todoroki was still around, Izuku didn’t want to venture across the grass and get soaked.

Izuku had taken up the offer of moving into that extra room in the teacher’s dorms. He had another nightmare. His mask was on, but when he woke up in the common room, most of the class had been there. They were having a movie marathon. That close call was the last straw for Izuku.

When questioned by his friends about the boxes he was carrying out, he lied and said the teachers wanted to keep a closer eye on him. It wasn’t an exact lie, but the way he said it made it seem like there were more legal issues than mental ones.

And so Izuku was stuck in his room. That is until someone knocked on the door.

Izuku looked up from his notebook. He had started a new Hero Analysis for the Future notebook. This one was number 14. He closed it and scooted out of his chair.

Upon opening the door, he was met with Aizawa. The man took a long sip from his still steaming mug before speaking. “Nezu wants to speak with you. Bring your mask.” Without waiting for a response, Aizawa turned and walked down the hall.

Izuku dove under his bed and pulled out the box. He put in the combination and opened it. He knew he didn’t have to worry about anyone finding it anymore, but he still wanted to be careful.

He ran down the hall, waving to Kayama and Yamada, who were chatting on their dorm’s common room couch. Izuku finished strapping the mask into place when he finally caught up to Aizawa. The man had waited for him at the dorm’s entrance.

Aizawa had replaced his coffee mug with an umbrella. He opened it when they stepped outside and held it far enough that it would cover Izuku, too.

“What’s this about?” Izuku asked, looking up at his teacher.

Aizawa shrugged. “Something about someone wanting to see you.”

Izuku’s stomach dropped. His first thought was his father had somehow found out he went to U.A. But he quickly pushed that away. As far as anyone aside from Nezu, Izuku, Aizawa, and Yamada, MIdoriya Izuku had officially dropped out of U.A.

Besides, Hisashi was all the way in America. If he really cared about his son, he would have flown over the moment he heard about Inko’s death.

Izuku had begun muttering about the possibilities by the time they entered the school.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize they were already at Nezu’s office until the door swung open.

Aizawa gently nudged Izuku with his elbow. He stopped his muttering and looked up. Nezu sat in his chair, paws clasped in front of him. In the two chairs across from him were one unfamiliar face, and an extremely familiar face.

“Thank you for joining us, Kumo!” Nezu exclaimed. “I hope you remember who this young fellow is.”

He did. Izuku was glad his mask concealed his entire face, because he was sure the expression he was making would startle the child.

Kousei was peering over the chair, having to stand on it since the back was too tall. Izuku slowly approached the chair. Kousei moved so that he was facing the side of the chair.

“You’re. . .” Izuku swallowed. “You’re alright.”

Kousei nodded, grinning. “Hello, Hero-san!” The child turned briefly and dug something out of his pocket. He handed it to Izuku. “Mom said we should make you a card.” Takahashi was watching the interaction, a small smile on her face.

Izuku gently took the card and opened it. The writing on top was clearly Kousei’s; large, messy hiragana that only a child could have. You’re my hero, it said. Beneath it was a crayon drawing of Kumo in All Might’s signature pose. Whether Kousei only chose that because of how simple it was or because he was equating Kumo to All Might, Izuku wasn’t sure. He chose to believe the former because there was no way that was possible. Kumo may be good, but there was no way he could reach All Might levels.

Underneath the picture was much smaller and neater written kanji. Thank you for saving my son.

Izuku looked up. “Thank you, Kousei-kun.” He smiled, trying to blink away the tears that were forming. Now was not a good time for the Midoriya Family Tears to come out.. “That’s a great drawing.”

Kousei’s grin didn’t waver. “Would it be alright if I could have a picture?” he asked, holding his hands in fists excitedly.

Izuku hesitated, if only because the question was unexpected. Then he nodded. “Of course.”

Izuku kneeled down so he was equal height with Kousei. Kousei’s mother turned her chair, phone out and pointed at them. Kousei wrapped an arm around Izuku’s neck, not tight but enough to throw the child slightly off balance. Izuku put a hand on his back so he didn’t fall over.

When the flash went off, Kousei jumped off the chair to look at how it turned out. “So cool,” he said. “Can we print it out when we get home?”

“If that printer is working,” his mother joked. “If not, there’s that store down the street.”

Izuku stood up, making eye contact briefly with the mother before looking back at Kousei. “Do you like heroes?” he asked. Kousei nodded. Izuku jerked his head over to where Aizawa had made his home in the corner. The man was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “That grumpy man over there is one. You should ask him stuff, he loves that.”

Aizawa let out a barely audible sigh. Izuku snickered.

Kousei, now vibrating with a familiar excitement that Izuku knew he shows himself sometimes, ran over to bug Aizawa.

Now that the kid was distracted, Izuku faced the mother once again. “How is he?”

Takahashi watched her son interact with Aizawa. He was clearly irritated, but let him poke and prod at his hero costume and even look at his capture weapon. “He’s doing fine for the most part. The burns on his arms scarred, but they’re not bad. Itchy, really.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m never hiring that babysitter again.”

“Babysitter?”

She held her elbows. “I had been called into work at the hospital, so I had to find a last minute babysitter.” She looked at the ground. “I was so scared when I heard the news broadcast. Even more so when my coworker told me. I was just about to head out when he said my son was there.”

That made Izuku feel better. She wasn’t a negligent parent.

“He talks about you,” she said.

Izuku tilted his head. “Really?”

Takahashi nodded. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since he left the hospital. So, I thought I’d send an email to U.A. and see if he could meet you. Kousei remembered you from the sports festival.”

“You were awesome!” Kousei said, suddenly appearing at his mother’s side. “You flew over that field! You got so far and didn’t even use a Quirk!” Kousei’s eyes sparkled at that, but there was something sad about it.

Izuku looked at Takahashi.

“It’s his dream to be a hero,” Takahashi said, sadly.

“Why can’t he-” Izuku cut himself off as he glanced down. “Oh.”

Kousei followed his gaze. He put one foot behind the other, trying to hide them. Izuku kneeled down. Kousei was wearing a familiar pair of shoes, a pair that looked like a much smaller version of his own.

“Look at my shoes, Kousei-kun,” Izuku said softly. There was only one brand of Quirkless shoes left in Japan, and they only produced that bright shade of red. The same shade of red that Kousei had on.

Kousei gasped. “You mean you’re. . . But you’re a hero!”

Izuku ruffled the kid’s hair. “Yep. And you can be too. It doesn’t matter if you have a Quirk or not.”

Kousei sniffed. “You mean it?” Izuku nodded. Kousei wiped his eyes, and determination replaced the sadness previously in his eyes. “I won’t let you down!”

Izuku laughed and stood up. “I’m sure you’ll make a great hero.”

Takahashi leaned down to pick up her son. “Alright, Kousei. We should let these heroes get back to their jobs. Why don’t we go over costume designs again? You loved doing that.”

Kousei kicked his feet excitedly. “Yeah!”

Takahashi bowed as best she could and thanked everyone for their time. Kousei turned around and waved. “Bye, Hero-san!”

That night, Izuku didn’t dream of fire.

Chapter Text

Izuku winced with how much force Kacchan was using to pull him down the corridor. You could practically feel Kacchan’s anger. Izuku wasn’t sure what set him off now, but he clearly played a part in it. He’d only been talking with Uraraka on the way to lunch about the upcoming work studies program. Uraraka wasn’t sure who to go with yet and was asking for advice when Kacchan showed up and snatched Izuku away.

The two arrived at one of the boy’s restrooms. Kacchan shoved the door open with so much force that the knob cracked the wall. It slammed back shut without as much force. The blond let go of Izuku’s arm in favor of looking into each stall. Satisfied that he found nothing, Kacchan spun around and faced Izuku. “Spill.”

Izuku frowned under his mask. “I don’t-“

“-Cut the bullshit, Deku!” Kacchan interrupted, marching up to get in Izuku’s face. “There are too many things to be a coincidence.”

Izuku froze, the old nickname slapping him in the face. It had been so long since he heard it. “W-what do you mean?” He could feel his hands start to tremble. He hid them behind his back so Kacchan didn’t see.

“There’s only one person that calls me by that dumb nickname,” Kacchan spat out. “On top of the fact that you’re Quirkless, it was pretty easy to piece it together. I also overheard the conversation you had with Aizawa-Sensei a while back.”

Izuku wasn’t sure how to react. On one hand, Kacchan might spread his identity around. On the other, Izuku knew the blond had nothing to gain from it. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was trying to hide it at this point. So, in order to ease his childhood friend’s rage, he made his choice.

His hands shook as Izuku pulled off his gloves and reached behind his mask. The pads of his fingers pressed on the sensors. It beeped, and he was able to unhook the straps.

He took a deep breath. He lowered the mask.

His hat did a good job hiding his hair but a few strands fell in front of his eyes when the mask jostled them.

He met Kacchan’s stare. “Hi, Kacchan,” he whispered. Instant relief flooded through him. It felt good to finally say on purpose now.

Kacchan stayed silent as he took in Izuku’s appearance. “What the fuck,” he finally said after what felt like forever. He shook his head in disbelief, despite being the one to figure it out. “How the hell are you a vigilante? Why the hell are you a vigilante? You’re just Deku!”

Izuku blinked. “Did you respect Kumo before you knew it was me?”

Kacchan raked a hand through his hair. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“Just answer it.”

Kacchan growled, shoving his hands into his uniform pants. He didn’t meet Izuku’s eyes, instead he glared at the ground. He shrugged. Izuku knew that was as close to a yes as he was getting. No matter how much Kacchan liked to scream that he was better, Izuku knew deep down that he had at least some respect for those with more experience than him. See, for example, All Might. Not that Izuku was as good as him. He could only dream of reaching his level.

“Why is it any different now that you know I’m Kumo?” Izuku asked.

Kacchan scoffed, crossing his arms again and choosing not to answer the question. Instead, he asked his own. “What happened to you? You disappeared years ago, show up at U.A. only to leave again, and all of the sudden you’re back and pretending to be a hero?”

If that question had been asked a few months ago, Izuku would have had a different answer. He would have said something along the lines of, “Pretending is better than letting people get hurt.”

But now that he had an actual support group, people that believed in him, he could say this in confidence.

Izuku decided to let him avoid his inital question. It would give Kacchan something to think about, anyway. “I’m not pretending to be anything,” he said. “Why do you think only those with offensive Quirks can be heroes?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?!” Kacchan yelled. Small sparks extended from his fingertips. “If you can’t defend yourself, you shouldn’t be a hero!”

“I can defend myself just fine!” Izuku snapped, gesturing to himself. “Sure, I rely on my support items but I wouldn’t be able to use them if I couldn’t fight. And if you really think that, then some of our classmates shouldn’t become heroes. Iida’s Quirk isn’t necessarily an offensive Quirk, yet he’s still a great hero. Or look at Tsu and Koda. Frogs aren’t usually known for fighting. Following your logic, I guess Aizawa-Sensei shouldn’t be a hero.”

Kacchan’s hands popped as he released tiny explosions.

“It’s not about the Quirk,” Izuku continued, “it’s about how you use it.”

In an uncharacteristically quiet voice, Kacchan asked, “Can you at least tell me where you’ve been?”

Izuku sighed, his shoulders slumping down. “That isn’t an easy story, Kacchan.”

“So?”

“Look, I-”

They both froze at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Izuku rushed to press his mask to his face, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to strap it on without both hands. He fumbled with it and it fell to the ground.

Both boys’ gaze slid over to whoever entered.

Mineta stared at the mask, either stunned or stupid enough to not look up. When he finally registered what he was looking at, the short boy looked up.

Izuku grunted when Kacchan smacked his open palm against Izuku’s face, successfully hiding most of his features. The only thing that was visible were a few freckles and one of his eyes, which wouldn’t help anyone track him down.

“If you know what’s good for you,” Kacchan sneered down at the intruder, “you’ll scram and not tell anyone.” He held up his other hand, letting off a few explosions.

Mineta began to shake, eyes darting between the taller boys. Not wanting to anger Kacchan further, Mineta ran out of the bathroom.

Kacchan let his hand drop to his side. Izuku fiddled with his mask as he tried to hook it up. His shaking hands made it hard. He couldn’t believe how easily his identity could have been revealed. Although. . . at this point there was no reason to keep hiding it. Kacchan knew, and he was the only other one Izuku was hiding from.

Kacchan stalked towards the door. He paused, one hand on the door and head jerking over his shoulder. “I want answers sooner rather than later, Deku.”

He left.

                                                                   _____________

The car ride back to U.A. was silent. The day had started out great. Yamada had asked if Izuku wanted to go to the mall that weekend. Izuku had agreed. He was starting to get stir crazy, especially since all his classmates got the chance to leave campus to visit their families. And since he was with Yamada, he didn’t have to wear his mask.

Izuku was a little nervous, though. The last mall outing had ended with him almost getting strangled by a villain. But Shigaraki didn’t know what his face looked like and Present Mic was pretty unrecgnoizeable in public. Or so Izuku had been told. Then again, Izuku spent nearly every day with the man so he was bound to be a little biased.

They didn’t really have any particular store in mind. Yamada just wanted to get Izuku off campus for a bit. So of course, Izuku had dragged him to every hero store in the building. 

They had a blast searching through the dump bins of knock offs and poking fun at them. Izuku had found a Present Mic pin with the wrong colored hair. Whoever the manufacturer was somehow made it purple. Yamada jokingly asked if he could pull it off. The answer was an immediate “No”.

They continued their journey through the hero stores. Izuku’s favorite had been the small store dedicated to underground heroes. And it was a small store, roughly half the size of the dorm rooms. Izuku showed Yamada a pair of Eraserhead goggles and burst into tears when Yamada showed him his own mask. He bought both of them.

So yeah, the day had been going well. Until they got to the food court. Yamada handed him some cash and told him to get anything he wanted and to grab him some takoyaki while Yamada got them a place to sit.

Izuku headed to the restaurant closest. Mistake number one. He froze when the man at the front of the line turned around with his food. It might have been over a decade and he sported some extra wrinkles, but Izuku recgnoxied those mutations anywhere. His father had a fire breathing Quirk, and as such had a larger chest so his lungs could hold in their smoke. The skin around his throat and mouth was also thicker for protection, making them stick out more.

Izuku turned around and ran into a table, nearly tipping it over. Mistake number two. He looked over his shoulder. Hisashi was staring at him. Confusion quickly turned into surprise.

“Izuku?”

Izuku spun back around, urgently searching for Yamada. He spotted him sitting near a claw machine.

Izuku jumped when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed the urge to reach over and through whoever it was over him. He could hear them speaking, but couldn’t make out the words. Any second now and the hand would take hold of his neck. He wouldn’t be able to fight back. Shigaraki would kill them and then everyone else in the area.

“-zuku?”

Izuku stiffened. How did Shigaraki know his name? He only knew Kumo. What was he planning?

“-listener?”

That was a new voice. That wasn’t Shigaraki. Now that he thought about it, Shigaraki wasn’t there. The hand on his shoulder wasn’t his. Izuku’s arm would’ve been destroyed by now since all five fingers were on it.

Izuku relaxed when the hand was taken off.

“You with us again?” Izuku recognized that voice. He opened his eyes. Yamada was crouched in front of him. “Are you okay, Midoriya?”

Izuku looked around, seeing his father standing a few feet away. He looked uncomfortable.

Izuku looked back at Yamada. He hesitated, but nodded. “I thought. . . When he put his hand on me it reminded me of Shigaraki,” he whispered.

Yamada frowned. “Do you know who that man is?”

“My father.”

Yamada nodded and stood up. “We’ll stop somewhere else for lunch, alright?”

Izuku nodded. He really wanted to leave.

Yamada put his hand on Izuku’s back and guided him out of the food court. He turned to Hisashi just before they left. “I would advise you not to put your hands on someone else’s kid.”

Izuku flushed at being called Yamada’s child. Hisashi looked like he wanted to say something, but the look on Yamada’s face stopped him.

And so there they were, in the car back to U.A. Izuku curled up as best he could in his seat. He held his Eraserhead goggles and rested his head on the window. Why was Hisashi there? Didn’t he live in America? Had he been lying all those years?

Yamada sighed. “He most likely came back because of the court date.”

Izuku jumped, unaware he had been speaking out loud. “Court date?”

“Shouta didn’t tell you?” Izuku shook his head. “We have a hearing next week for the custody battle. So if Midoriya-san wants to fight for you, he has to be here in person.”

“He hasn’t seen me in nearly eleven years!” Izuku exclaimed. “He left when I was four and didn’t even bother looking for me after Mom died.” He knew that for sure. There had been no ads in the newspaper or clips on TV or even a missing poster. “Why now?”

Yamada shook his head. “I don’t know, Listener.”

Izuku buried his head into his knees. “You guys better win.”

Yamada leaned over and patted Izuku’s head. “Don’t worry, Izuku. We will.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki stared at his phone as he walked along the sidewalk, keeping the other hand on his backpack so it didn’t slip off. He stuck to the right side so that people wouldn’t bump into him and he wouldn’t get knocked into the street. He scowled as yet another message popped up from the class group chat he was forced to join. It wasn’t the official one that Iida had set up. Katsuki had that one muted. No, this one had just been made by his group of extras.

Dunce Face had already changed everyone’s names to stupid nicknames. He put Katsuki’s as Sparky Sparky Boom Man. Katsuki would have just threatened him in the group chat, but he figured that since he was already walking along U.A. 's fence, he might as well just wait until he was back in the dorms to make good on it.

Katsuki nearly tripped when someone knocked into his shoulder. He whipped his head back. “Hey!” he snapped. “Watch where you’re going–”

The man who hit him had turned around, mouth open ready to apologize. They both stared at each other. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Katsuki?” the man asked, turning around to fully face him.

Katsuki snarled. “Don’t call me that. Who the hell are you?”

The man chuckled. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Katsuki took a step forward, holding his hand out like he was about to pop an explosion. “Answer the question! Who are you and how do you know my name?”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “You really don’t remember? I’m Hisashi, Izuku’s father.”

Katsuki looked him up and down. He supposed he could see that. They had the exact same messy hairstyle, except this man had black hair and was very obviously greying. He scoffed. “Whatever.” Turning around, he continued towards U.A. 's gate.

“Wait, Katsuki!”

“I told you not to call me that!” He sped up, as he heard Hisashi jog to catch up. “Stop following me.”

“I’m sure you know what happened to Inko. I just wanted to know if you’ve seen Izuku. If you know who he’s been living with.”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” That was a lie. He did know what happened to her. It was hard to forget one of the only times he saw his mother cry. All he knew now, though, was Deku up and disappeared only to show up at U.A. years later as a vigilante of all things. What kind of bullshit was that? Katsuki was supposed to be the only one from that crappy school to get into U.A. He was supposed to be the hero.

“I thought you two were friends.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “A lot changed in the twelve years you were gone. If Deku hasn’t spoken to you, that’s your answer.”

God, how much longer until he got to the gate and could leave this bastard stranded? Sometimes Katsuki hated how big the campus was. The fence spanned miles.

He could feel Hisashi preparing another question, so Katsuki put his backpack on properly and stuck his hands out behind him. He let his explosions propel him through the main gate, potential Quirk usage charge be damned.

If asked, he would simply say a shady figure had been following him and he was acting purely in self defense.

Something sat uneasy in Katsuki’s stomach as he walked back towards the dorms. Why was Deku’s father looking for him? He fucked off to America shortly after his diagnosis, so why did he suddenly care?

He was about to open the front door when he stopped. He looked over his shoulder to the teacher’s building. Against his better judgement, he turned around and headed over there. He needed to tell Deku about this. It wasn’t because he cared. He just wanted some questions answered, and they’ve been overdue for a conversation since the first week of school. Now he just had an excuse.

He knocked on the door and impatiently tapped his foot against the ground as he waited. “I need to speak with Kumo,” he said when a teacher eventually answered. “Is he here?”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read him. Katsuki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Aizawa sighed and stepped aside to let him in. Katsuki reluctantly waited for Aizawa to close the door and get ahead of him since he had no idea where Deku’s room was.

Katsuki ignored the questioning looks some of the teachers gave as they walked passed. It was weird seeing them in regular clothes and not their hero costumes.

Aizawa led him to a hall that had only two doors– one on each side. Aizawa gestured to the door on the right and leaned against the other one. Katsuki wanted to tell him off, that he didn’t have to babysit them. Then he remembered that day during training; the one where Deku had a borderline panic attack. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but let Aizawa do what he pleased and knocked on the door.

He heard a faint, “Come in!” and twisted the knob. He figured Aizawa would be able to hear if they started yelling or something, so he closed the door behind him.

Deku was sitting at a desk in a swivel chair. Upon hearing the door close, he looked over his shoulder. He gasped and flailed, spinning around fully and nearly falling out of the chair. “Kacchan!”

“Deku.” He looked around the room. It was pretty empty. There were a few hero posters on the wall, and a Present Mic and an All Might figure on the desk.

“What, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Your old man is in town.”

Deku paled. “W-what?”

“Ran into him on my way here. He asked about you.”

Deku stood up fast. “Did you say anything?”

“Why would I?” Katsuki frowned. Deku was acting weird. Weirder than he usually did.

Deku paused. “Why not?”

Katsuki opened his mouth to reply, only to find that he couldn’t. Why not? Katsuki didn’t know. Aside from it not being any of his business. A few moments of silence passed, and he eventually settled with, “Aizawa-sensei told us the importance of secret identities.” He paused. Added, “You've fought too many villains not to have been choked out before. You only started struggling when you got to me."

He looked Deku in the eyes. Deku’s eyes widened and they shone with unshed tears. Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Stop being a cry baby, Deku.” He turned around and opened the door. Aizawa was still leaning against the other door, but his eyes were closed.

Katsuki began walking down the hall when he heard, “Wait!” He stopped, hands still in his pockets and looking forward. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Whatever.”

He continued down the hall. He tensed up when he heard Deku and Aizawa talk.

“ That’s Kacchan?” Aizawa asked.

“It’s fine, Aizawa-san.”

Katsuki scowled. Why in the hell did Aizawa know about that name? Why was Deku talking about him? Bastard still looked down on him? Katsuki told Deku’s father that things change after the years, but apparently some things didn’t.

He slammed the front door behind him.

                                                                 _____________

Izuku sat across from Hound Dog in his office. He balanced his tray on his lap while the hero got his notepad ready. His mask was thrown on to the ground next to the chair.

“How was your week, Kumo-kun?” Hound Dog asked.

Izuku swallowed his bite of rice before responding. “It was good!” And he meant it that time. “Ever since talking to Kousei-kun, my nightmares have dropped to once a week and my sleepwalking is practically nonexistent.”

“That’s good to hear. Do you think knowing Kousei-kun is alright was what stopped them?”

Izuku nodded. “Definitely. I think a big part of why they were happening was because I didn’t know what happened to him after. I knew he was taken to the hospital, but I had no way of knowing if he survived.”

Hound Dog nodded. “What about the other subject of them?”

Izuku paused to think. He had told Hound Dog about Kacchan, and that he was still around. He hadn’t told him that Kacchan was in his class though, or even in the school. “We talked yesterday. But before then he hasn’t really said or done anything like he had in middle or elementary school. He actually apologized. In his own way.”

It wasn’t really an apology, at least not a proper one. Kacchan was the type to believe that actions spoke louder than words. Izuku had seen that over the course of the year. He’d yell at his group of friends that they were idiots, but then force them to have a study session in the dorms. When it was his turn to cook, he’d belittle their inability to handle spice but make two separate dishes.

He didn’t like to apologize, but he would make sure to do something to even it out.

 “You've fought too many villains not to have been choked out before. You only started struggling when you got to me."

That was his way of saying he knew how awful he was in middle school. In all honesty, Izuku wasn’t even expecting that. Not spilling his secret to his father didn’t make up for everything he’d done, and he had a feeling Kacchan knew that. But it was a start. Maybe they’d get to a point where Kacchan felt like he could apologize properly.

Izuku wanted to snort. That was a long way away.

                                                                   _____________

“So it is true!” Kaminari yelled, pointing his finger at Izuku when he walked into the classroom. He stumbled to the side when Kacchan knocked into his shoulder trying to get in.

“Move it, nerd!” he said, glaring over his shoulder.

“What’s true?” Izuku asked, setting his backpack next to his desk.

“That you and Bakugou are hooking up.” Kaminari gave him a look that said, duh . “Why else would you guys walk in together?”

“What!” Izuku exclaimed, masked voice cracking and nearly tripping over his feet. “Where did that come from?” He looked over at Kacchan, who was giving both Izuku and Kaminari a look of utter disgust.

“I saw you two in the bathroom,” Mineta said, pointing at them. “Your mask was off and you guys were really close.”

The rest of their classmates were now looking at them. Ashido was laughing. Kirishima was silently crying and nodding, whispering, “That’s so manly.”

“Are you asking to die, you little shit?” Kacchan threatened. He grabbed Mineta by the front of his uniform and lifted him up. He held a palm close to his face.

Mineta wailed and pulled on Kacchan’s hand. “I’m just stating the facts! You know what he looks like and you yelled at me to leave!”

Iida marched over to the group. “Bakugou, I must urge you to let your classmate go! It is unbecoming of a hero student to use your Quirk against another outside of training. And Mineta, it is against U.A. policy to spread rumors!”

Izuku waved his hands, face bright red. “It’s not like that at all, Mineta. We just found out we used to know each other, so he already knows what I look like, that’s all.”

“Shut up, Four Eyes!” Kacchan yelled at Iida. “I’m gonna teach this little punk a lesson.”

Both Izuku and Mineta prepared for a blast that never came.

“That’s enough,” Aizawa said. Everyone looked over and saw his red eyes and standing hair. “Bakugou, put Mineta down and go to your seat. Mineta, I want a two page essay on why rumors are harmful on my desk by tomorrow.”

Everyone scrambled to their seats. Aizawa began his lecture.

Izuku leaned forward. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Shut up, Deku.”

Chapter Text

To say Izuku was nervous was an understatement. He was terrified. Today could change his life forever.

It was court day.

Luckily it was on a Sunday so nobody had to miss classes. Not that it would really matter to Izuku, seeing as how he wasn’t going. At first, he had wanted to. He wanted to know right away what the judge would decide. But then he thought he wouldn’t be able to stay in the same room as Hisashi without wanting to strangle him because how dare he try to get Izuku back after being gone for so long.

Aizawa was kind enough to inform him that children don’t usually attend custody cases, so he was free to stay in the dorms.

It was a little after 1 o’clock in the afternoon when they left. Izuku stood by the dorm entrance with them. Aizawa wore the same suit he did for the press conference when Kacchan had been kidnapped. Yamada wore a similar one.

“It starts at two,” Aizawa said as he put on his shoes. “But the courthouse is thirty minutes away so we have to leave now.”

Yamada gave Izuku a tight hug and ruffled his hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Izuku watched the two exit the building. He didn’t move from his spot for minutes.

“You know standing there won’t make it go by any faster, right?” Kayama said from her spot on the couch. She was grading essays. “You’ll burn the door to the ground if you keep staring so hard.”

Izuku sighed, dropping his head. She was right. He couldn’t just stand there for the next hour or however long the hearing took. He’d just start pacing, and likely create a dent in the flooring if left long enough.

So he forced himself to head back to his room. He still had a bit of homework to finish before class tomorrow. He sat at his desk and pulled out his math notebook and folder. It wasn’t his favorite subject, not by a long shot, so he’d rather get it over with first.

Pencil in hand, he started with the first problem.

And just stared at it, palm resting against his cheek. Blinked a few times. Then he put the notebook aside. Yeah, there was no way he was getting any work done until they got back.

Izuku pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. He couldn’t stay in his dorm, either. He’d just pace back and forth, filled to the brim with anxiety until they walked through the door again. He had to distract himself.

And he knew just how to do that.

He exited his room and went back to the common area. Kayama was in the same spot she was when Izuku had left. She looked up when he approached. She pushed up her glasses and set her pen down. “Hello, Midoriya. Can I help you with something?”

Izuku nodded, fiddling with the drawstring on his hoodie. “I know students can pretty much go to and from as long as we’re back before curfew,” he said, “but since this involves two other students, I just thought I’d ask.”

Kayama seemed to think it over. “Who are the others?”

“Shinsou from 1-C and Hatsume from 1-H.”

She nodded. “Alright. I’m sure you could use the distraction.”

Izuku bowed. “Thank you, Kayama-san!”

She smiled and waved him off. “Have fun.”

Izuku spun around and hiked to the front door. He had pulled up his phone and started a video call with his friends.

It was dark when Hitoshi answered first. “What?” His face popped out from under his blankets.

Mei answered next. “Izuku?” There was graphite and leftover soot she failed to wash off on her face.

“Meet me by the gates,” Izuku said, slipping on his shoes. “We’re going out.”

“I don’t like you like that,” both of them said at the same time.

Izuku rolled his eyes. “You guys, be serious.”

Hitoshi groaned as he rolled out of his bed. “We’re coming, calm down.”

Izuku decided to hang up when he left his building. It wouldn’t take either of them long to reach him. Hitoshi was the first to arrive, seeing as his dorm was the closest. He nodded in Izuku’s direction and took a spot next to him. Izuku had been leaning against the gate, but Hitoshi plopped onto the ground.

They passed the time by showing each other cat videos.

“So where are we going?” Hitoshi asked as the cat on his screen scaled a wall.

“That cat cafe,” Izuku answered.

Hitoshi grinned. “Hell yeah, I get to see Pavement.”

Pavement was Hitoshi’s favorite cat there. She was a 13-year-old tuxedo stray that an employee found on the, you guessed it, pavement.

Just as Izuku was about to wonder aloud what was taking Mei so long, the front doors to the school burst open. Mei came jogging out.

“Power Loader let you in the lab on a weekend?” Hitoshi asked, putting his phone away to stand up.

Mei nodded, panting as she caught her breath. “I needed to finish some things on one of my babies for the showcase.”

Much like how the hero students have work studies coming up, so do the support classes. Unlike the hero students, however, where they can show off during the sports festival, the support and management students aren’t able to use that opportunity to the fullest. Yes, they can and do try to utilize it, but it’s not the best seeing as how Mei was the only support student to even make it to the final event.

So what the support teachers have planned was during the summer, the students are free to come and work on gear and inventions for their showcase. The week before school starts back up, representatives from support companies stop by and review each students’ work, and if they like it, they’ll send an internship invite.

As the trio walked down the sidewalk, Mei rambled on about the inventions she was working on. None of them were for the showcase, and haven’t even made it past the secret blueprint stage that she kept in her dorm room because Power Loader won’t sign off on them.

“‘Too dangerous’, he says,” Mei grumbled. “Can you believe him? My inventions only explode, like, 87.43% of the time!”

“I’m too scared to ask how you got that statistic,” Hitoshi said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You’ve been in her lab before,” Izuku chimed in, looking over his shoulder. He glanced over at Mei, who currently had a hand to her chin as her pupils dilated and constricted repeatedly. She gasped suddenly and looked over at Hitoshi.

Familiar with the crazed look in her eyes, Hitoshi paled and grabbed Izuku using him as a shield. Hitoshi ignored his protests.

Undeterred, Mei latched onto Hitoshi’s arm. “You’re transferring into the hero course, right?”

Izuku grinned. “He sure is!” he exclaimed. “Aizawa-san is training him.”

Mei’s eyes zoomed in, shining with excitement. “Let me make your babies!” she begged.

The few bystanders around gave the trio weird and concerned looks, making sure to give them a wide berth.

Izuku flailed his arms. “We’ve talked about this, Mei. You can’t just say that in public!” He looked around, smiling awkwardly at the passersby’s. “She means inventions, I swear.”

Hitoshi shook his head. “I don’t want to blow up, thanks.”

Mei huffed. “I made his gear,” she pointed at Izuku, “and he hasn’t exploded yet.” Yet being the key word. “I have so many ideas already. You could use the spring boots that Izuku refused. They still need work so you don’t fall, but we’ll get there! Wait, you’re going underground, aren’t you? I’m sure I could make a device to silence your footsteps.”

“What if she turned your capture weapon into a taser?” Izuku suggested.

“Yes!”

“No! Stop giving her ideas!”

It didn’t take them long to reach the cat cafe. They walked up to the counter. Hitoshi immediately started looking around for his beloved cat.

“Where’s Pavement?” he asked the worker behind the counter.

The worker smiled sadly. “Pavement found her forever home a few nights ago,” they said as Izuku handed over enough money for three hours.

“Don’t worry, Hitoshi,” Izuku said, patting his friend’s back. “Now you can bond with another cat!”

Hitoshi grumbled, but walked over to a pile of kittens. They meowed and sniffed him curiously. Luckily the table they were next to was empty, and the three sat down. An orange tabby wandered over to them.

“So what is this really about, Izuku?” Mei asked as the kitten tried to climb Hitoshi’s pant leg.

Izuku froze. “What do you mean?”

Mei and Hitoshi gave him an identical look that said, ‘really?’

Izuku sighed. This was supposed to be a distraction. But he figured they deserved to know. “So you know that I’ve been staying with Aizawa-san and Yamada-san.” His friends nodded. “Well, they’re in court right now. For a custody battle.”

It took a while for his words to settle in. “What?!” Mei exclaimed. “It’s about time!”

“Wait.” Hitoshi looked confused. “You mean they hadn’t adopted you already?”

Izuku buried his face in his hands, cheeks reddening. “It’s not set in stone yet, guys.”

Mei scoffed. “Come on, how could they not win? Your actual dad had the chance to come get you, but chose to not do that for three years!”

Izuku dropped his head onto their table with a loud thunk . “I mean. . .” He pursed his lips. “They technically, legally kidnapped me for months.”

“At least they cared for you,” Hitoshi chimed in.

Mei nodded. “The judge would be stupid not to give them custody. If I was the judge I wouldn’t even hear the opposing argument. The moment they’d step through, I’d grant it to them.”

“And that’s why you’re not a judge,” Hitoshi said, reaching up to give chin scratches to the orange kitten that had now climbed onto his shoulder.

Izuku sighed. “Let’s change the subject. I brought you guys here so I could not think about it.”

“Hear that Mei?” Hitoshi asked. “We’re just temporary distractions. Wha— hey, man.” He put a supportive arm around the kitten as he tried to stay upright after Izuku shoved him. “Don’t hurt the baby.”

“Do you think I could find a market in support items for cats?” Mei asked.

“Hell no,” Hitoshi said immediately. He leaned back, away from the crazy glint in her eyes.

Izuku smiled as the two began to argue over the ethics and morals of giving pets support gear. Mei argued that it would give the animals something to do when the owners weren’t home. Hitoshi countered that if the animals were all tired when the people got home, they wouldn’t have the energy to be around them and they wouldn’t bond. All in all, it was pointless bickering but Izuku welcomed the subject change.

It was sometime during their second hour when Izuku’s phone went off. Seeing Yamada’s contact pop up, he answered. “Hello?” He tried to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Hey, kiddo!” Yamada said cheerfully. “Nemuri says you went out. Where’d you go? We have some news.”

“Are you sure you can’t say it over the phone?” Izuku asked. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest. He wondered if Yamada could hear it.

Yamada sighed. “I can, but it’s just better in person.”

Izuku hung his head. “Alright. I’m at that cat cafe you wanted to take Aizawa-san to for his birthday.”

Yamada chuckled. “Well, this will be a very early birthday then.” Something rustled on the other line. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

Izuku’s hands shook as he placed his phone on the table. “They’re on their way.”

And sure enough, about fifteen minutes later he heard the door chime open. He glanced over. Aizawa and Yamada had changed out of their suits. They were in much more casual wear; Yamada was wearing a shirt that promoted his radio show and a pair of grey sweatpants. Aizawa was wearing black t-shirt and those bright pink sweatpants. When Izuku saw him wearing them around the house for the first time, he thought it was a joke. But nope. Aizawa wore them often and proudly.

Aizawa was talking to the employee behind the counter while Yamada headed over to Izuku’s table. He was holding a beige folder. Mei and Hitoshi were watching intently, silently.

“Hey, Listeners,” he said, greeting Izuku’s friends before turning all of his attention to the anxious teenager in front of him. “Alright. I have good news and bad news.”

Izuku stared, eyes wide. “What’s the bad news?” He wanted to rip it off like a bandaid.

Yamada opened the folder and slid a sheet of paper over to him. “You just have to choose a new surname.”

Izuku blinked, eyes darting between the paper and Yamada. The moment his words registered in his brain, he gasped. “Really?”

Yamada nodded, a grin finally breaking out on his face. Izuku burst into tears, flinging himself out of his seat and into Yamada’s arms. Yamada hugged him tightly. “You could choose one of ours, you could hyphen, or combine, whichever you want.”

“No pressure, right?” Aizawa asked with a raised eyebrow, appearing next to his husband.

Yamada smiled sheepishly. “Of course!”

Izuku pulled back, sniffing. He wiped his eyes. “Are you sure?” They both nodded. “Then, if it’s alright, I’d like to keep mine. It’s one of the only things I have left of my mom.”

“That’s completely alright,” Aizawa said. He rolled his shoulders. “Now, you three have another two hours.”

“Huh?”

“He paid for us for 3 hours,” Yamada explained. “He must’ve added time to yours.”

They watched as Aizawa sat down against the wall where a small pile of black cats slept. One of them stretched and left a paw on his leg. Izuku wanted to laugh at how wide his eyes were.

Yamada, after double checking Izuku was really okay, went over to sit next to his husband. Izuku slumped back in his seat, letting his eyes wander over the cafe. Yamada was taking pictures of the cats while Aizawa scolded him to not wake them up. Hitoshi and Mei had moved to a booth, where Hitoshi was currently laying down, feet dangling. The kittens from earlier had now moved to smother him while Mei laughed.

Izuku smiled, a soft, genuine smile. He was right where he belonged.

                                                                           _________

The ground was mushy beneath his knees from the rain the night before. It stained his pants, but he didn’t pay it any attention. He was focused on the object in front of him.

Her gravestone.

When he lived alone, he used to stop by and clean it on a monthly basis. But now the stone was showing signs of his visits stopping. Grass had grown around the stone. Dirt and grime were caked into the engravings.

He ran his hand over the top of the stone. “I’m sorry, mom,” Izuku whispered. “It’s been a while since I’ve cleaned you. Things have gotten hectic these last few months. I’m sure you’re fine, but this is the only time we have together now.” He’d ask Aizawa and Yamada for supplies later. They were actually nearby, visiting their own person.

“I’m living with some other people, now,” he continued, looking down at his lap. “You’d like them, Aizawa and Yamada. They actually adopted me a few weeks ago. But I kept your name. I don’t want to get rid of that.”

He sniffed, tears easily spilling down his face. He desperately rubbed them away.

A pair of footsteps alerted him. “Always a crybaby,” a voice said.

Izuku looked over his shoulder. “Kacchan,” he breathed out. The spikey blond stood behind him, hands buried in his pockets. “You came.”

“Only ‘cause you promised answers.”

Izuku turned back to the grave. “Did you ever visit her?”

He saw Kacchan’s shadow’s shrug. “Once, after the funeral. To apologize.”

Izuku nodded, slightly irked about that. Though, he supposed it was easier to apologize directly to someone dead than alive. “I wish I would’ve gone.”

He heard Kacchan move closer, and was surprised when he sat next to him. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was. . . scared, I guess. Didn’t want to face it, that would make it true.”

“So you were a coward and ran away?”

Izuku laughed shakily. “We both know the answer to that.” He leaned back to look at the sky. “I wanted to prove the heroes wrong. I’m fueled by spite, I guess.” He shook his head. “They told me their quirks weren’t suited. They had all the water quirks focused on the fire, but no one else bothered to try to stabilize the building so they could go in and rescue the ones who needed it. They let my mom die, terrified and alone. They’re the real cowards.”

Kacchan was silent for a minute. “You should tell this to the old hag,” he said. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“You haven’t told her I’m alive?”

Kacchan shook his head.

“Why?”

“Well, at this point she’d probably kill me for having kept it from her for this long.” Kacchan coughed into his fist, realizing the poor timing on the phrasing. “But, uh, I guess because. . . What if. . .”

“. . .What if?” Izuku encourgaed.

Kacchan growled, standing up abruptly. “Fuckin’ personal shit, Deku. This isn’t therapy. I got my answers, I’m leaving.” He spun around and started walking away.

Izuku watched his retreating form. “Thanks, Kacchan,” he called out.

Kacchan stopped, jerking his head to his shoulder. “For what?”

Izuku shrugged. “Listening.”

                                                                       _________

Izuku was buzzing with excitement. His first official patrol started soon and he could not contain himself. His class all got their provisinonal licenses a few weeks ago. Well, everyone except Kacchan and Todoroki, but they were taking remedial courses. Izuku was sure it wouldn't take them long to get theirs.

He was pacing back and forth in Aizawa and Yamada’s room. It was twice as big compared to the others since they were married. Plus the cats needed space, too.

That was actually why he decided to wait in their room. It felt like forever since he’s seen the cats. Blizzard and Fluffy were laying on the bed, but Truffles was nowhere to be found.

Izuku took out his phone, pulling up his Kumo Instagram. He intended on just uploading a few videos to his story, but his thumb missed and he started a livestream instead. Figuring there was no harm as long as he kept the camera on either the cats or his mask, he let it roll.

Soon enough, viewers started flooding in.

“Hi guys!” Izuku exclaimed, thankful the voice changer was on since he didn’t check before starting the stream. The comments were going crazy.

‘A live?!?!?!?’

‘He’s streaming :OOO’

‘Whoa the cryptid is revealed!'

“I didn’t mean to start one,” Izuku said.  He flipped the camera. “I just wanted to show you the cats! This is Blizzard.” He gestured to the not-so-little-anymore kitten. “And Fluffy.” He scratched under Fluffy’s chin.

“Yes, the name is ironic,” he answered a comment. “No, I didn't pick it out. They’re technically not even my cats.”

‘omg did you break in somewhere?’

‘Cat thief >:(‘

Izuku held up a hand in mock surrender. “Guys, I didn’t do anything illegal. Actually, I’m about to go on my first legal patrol. Just waiting for my mentor to get ready.”

“Guys, behave. There are some questions I can’t answer, even if you are fans.”

“You shouldn’t have fans in the first place.” Izuku spun around to find Aizawa standing in the doorway. He was wrapping his capture weapon around his neck. “You’re going underground, people shouldn’t know you.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s a few years too late for that. And besides, I was thinking of being a twilight hero like Ms. Joke.”

Aizawa breathed a heavy sigh at the mention of that hero. “Just shut that thing off, we have to get going.”

Izuku turned back to his audience, grinning under his mask. “You heard that, right? It’s patrol time—”

“—Don’t give them that information—”

“—This is Kumo, signing off!” He stopped the stream and pocketed his phone. Aizawa sighed again, shaking his head. Izuku bounced over to him, and pulled on his arm. “C’mon, you said we had to get going!”

“Jesus, yes, Kumo,” Aizawa grunted exasperatedly. “Don’t pull my arm out of its socket.”

Izuku calmed down a little, if only just to let Aizawa walk by himself. Aizawa told him to save the energy for the villains. Yamada popped up to wish them luck and to “Have fun, kiddo!” The other teachers still in the common room said casual goodbyes as the two made their way to the front door.

“First one to find a villain wins?” Izuku asked jokingly, fixing his gloves so they were tight.

“We’re supposed to stick together, Kumo.”

Izuku pouted. “Alright then. How about. . .” He put a hand to his chin in thought as they exited the campus. “Last one to the roof of that cat cafe has to help Yamada with his hair for a month.”

Izuku didn’t even get the chance to prepare before Aizawa took off down the street and up a building. “Wha—hey!”

Izuku was quick to follow, but since Aizawa had decided to cheat and had a head start, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Still, he managed to keep the pro hero in his line of sight. He’d take that as a success.

Aizawa didn’t appear winded at all as he took a seat on the rooftop. Meanwhile, Izuku laid down to catch his breath. “You. . . cheater. . .” he panted.

Aizawa smirked. “Kid, I’ve been with that man for ten years. I’m pretty sure the hairspray fumes have taken years off my life from how much I’ve inhaled.”

Izuku huffed. “So you’re going to make me lose years of my life?”

Aizawa shrugged. “It was your deal. A month won’t do anything.”

“Well—”

Whatever Izuku had been about to say was interrupted by tire screeches and a scream. Time to go, Izuku thought as the two stood up. 

“You ready, Kumo?” Aizawa asked, slipping his goggles over his eyes.

“Always, Eraser,” Izuku replied, uncapping his gloves.

Not wanting to waste any time, they leaped off the roof and took off into the night.