Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku will never be able to get over the sunset, no matter how destroyed the country and society have become. The colors remind him of Shouto and Kacchan, and even if just the thought of his fallen comrades makes his chest tight, he will never give up anything that reminds him of them. Just like how the shine of the midday sun over the broken city skyline reminds him of Tenya. Or how the sight of the re-trashed Dagobah beach will remind him of Tsu and Toshinori. Or how a thunderstorm reminds him of Denki, or a moonless night reminds him of Fumikage, or…or…

There are far too many, and yet not nearly enough, reminders of those that they have lost along the way.

“Problem Child.” Shouta’s voice sounds behind him. Izuku doesn’t startle, he had heard the familiar limping footsteps, as light as they were, coming up from behind. The nickname makes him smile nostalgically. He only ever calls him anything other than Deku when they are somewhere relatively safe. Nowhere is truly safe these days. “You shouldn’t be outside, we don’t want to attract attention. Come on. Momo managed to gather a decent spread of food on her last supply run.”

Izuku sighs long and quietly, taking one last chance to look at the fading light of the sunset before he pulls himself back up onto the roof.

He dusts himself off gently, as though it’ll make much of a difference. His hero suit has long since turned black from the dirt, grime, and dried blood. It isn’t like they have the ability to wash themselves very often, let alone their war torn, too small for some of them, too big for others, nasty, patchy old hero costumes.

Izuku turns to his old teacher, his now brother in arms, silently. As he looks at Eraserhead, a nostalgic image of the man from Before flashes across his vision. Eraserhead has long since lost the sight in his right eye, his left leg missing from just below the knee and his right arm held close to his chest as it tries to recover from the recent break.

Once upon a time long gone, Eraserhead was mighty, tall and strong.

The rhyme makes another pang of grief and nostalgia ring in his chest. Eri loved rhymes. Her loss is the freshest and most painful one to date. Izuku’s little hero, gone in the blink of an eye. He looks away from Shouta before the tears can build. There is no time or place for grief anymore. Even on Grieving Day, he can’t make himself grieve like he should.

The two of them make their way back down the crumbling, abandoned building that was once an apartment building. All the way to the basement. It takes longer than they probably should have, but today is the anniversary of the first loss of the War. The end of Before and beginning of The End. Nezu, the little genius rat, was a very strategic loss for the enemy. Take out the brain and the body stops functioning. Jokes on them, Nezu wasn’t the only brain.

He was just the greatest one they had.

Izuku helps Shouta down the last few feet to the basement, since the stairs were long since destroyed. Shouta frowns in frustration at his ‘weakness’, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he understands that helping someone, even just a little bit, makes Izuku feel less despair. Or maybe he hates to admit that he’s not the Underground Legend he used to be. Maybe it’s both.

“There you are.” Momo says. Her relief is not hidden very well in her tone, but she doesn’t show it on her face. He didn’t mean to worry her, but at this point, without being within her eyesight at all times, there’s no point in trying not to. He understands. Loss affects people differently. Mei hands Izuku both his and Shouta’s meal as he passes, a tight smile on her lips. Immediately after handing Izuku the food, half a can of non perishable tomato soup for each of them, she turns back to her support item repairs in silence.

It’s a recent development as well.

After the loss of Power Loader two months ago, Mei has not spoken a word, not even to talk about her babies. Grief hangs heavy in the air. Everyone knows the date, the anniversary. The one day of the year they allow themselves to just grieve, and hide, and let go of the fight. Neito lands behind them not even a minute later, grimy blonde hair tied tight in a braid that reaches his shoulder blades.

“I’ve secured the perimeter. No signs of any Nomu or League members.” Neito informs. His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, due to an injury he had gotten years ago to his throat. The same day Present Mic met his end. He can barely speak anymore, but he still fights with all the fury and mania of someone who’s lost almost everything. He’s the last of Old 1-B.

“Toshi.” Shouta says, and Izuku turns around to see him nudging Hitoshi awake with his crappy prosthetic made of random materials. Since they saved his knee joint, it didn’t have to be anything fancy, at Shouta’s demand. Even now, years and years later, he still systematically shuts Momo down on her offer for a better one. They all do. Momo’s quirk is reserved for medical supplies, small parts for repair work, and sometimes a new knife when one of there’s breaks or is lost. “Get your ass up or I’m eating your portion.”

“Lay off old man.” Hitoshi groans out, muffled by the torn up capture weapon he uses as a pillow. “I’m up.”

Izuku, in the resulting silence that always descends over mealtime, surveys all the remaining survivors of the last remaining rebel faction. Momo, whose hair is sheared in a short, choppy bob that is a homage to Kyoka, is carefully wrapping a blanket over Mei’s shoulders, even as she doesn’t acknowledge it. Neito, who rubs his scarred throat after every small bite, is resharpening everyone’s blades. Hitoshi who eats so fast it might make him nauseous later and then passes right back out, possibly from quirk overuse. He’s been pushing himself further and further with every fight since Eri was killed.

Mei, who doesn’t even bother, slides her portion to Momo and returns back to her tinkering. Eijiro is in the corner, re-sewing the gloves that used to be Kacchan’s, with a few silent tears falling down his face. Izuku doesn’t draw attention to it. Snipe, Yaorashi, and Ectoplasm are all holding a quiet conversation, probably planning for the next round of patrols. Hanta is using his tape to patch the holes in everyone’s torn up costumes as much as he can.

And that’s it. Eleven.

The last eleven who still choose to fight back. Only three who were already heroes, only seven who were heroes in training, one isn’t even from UA. And one lone support designer. Three, seven, and one. They really are pathetic aren’t they? How are eleven, or perhaps just ten, trained heroes supposed to overturn the apocalypse? Ten heroes against an army of villains. Eleven rebels. Is that all that they had been reduced to?

“Izuku.” Momo says, getting his attention quietly as she sits beside him, pressed close to his side for some semblance of comfort. He wraps an arm around her gently and holds her close. It’s a small thing, but it makes her feel better to be touching them when she can. After a moment, he pulls his arm back to his side as she holds onto it tightly.

“Yeah Mo?”

“Do you think it’s truly possible?” Momo asks. And the question silences the room. All attention is on them now. Even Eijiro looks up, Hitoshi opens his eyes, and Mei looks away from her work. He wishes he could pretend he doesn’t know what she’s asking of him. Izuku takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as he reminds himself what it is she wants to know. What everyone is looking to him for answers for.

Izuku was approached three weeks ago by a civilian.

Said civilian, a man named Ikimi Kazuko, told Izuku that he had a quirk that made it possible to send someone back in time. Or rather their consciousness. Izuku hadn’t really believed it at first. It seemed too good to be true. But the man proved it by telling Izuku the secret Izuku had apparently told him, although nothing about One For All, as much as it doesn’t matter anymore. After two weeks of secret meetings between the two of them, Izuku was sent back himself. A week after that he told the others that he has a way to fix everything by going back in time. That was yesterday. He’s refused to talk about it more due to Grieving Day.

He opens his eyes again. The room has gone devastatingly still as the ten people staring at him wait for an answer.

“I do. He proved it by telling me a secret about myself that he should not have known no matter how much digging he did into my past.” Izuku responds. “According to Ikimi, he doesn’t know if he can send all eleven of us back though. Not if we go back to before it all began.”

“Does he know the limits to his quirk?” Shouta asks. Izuku tries not to sigh. This is their Grieving Day, he wanted to hold off until after today, so that they all can grieve in peace. Grieving Day is not for strategizing further than perimeter checks. It’s not for fighting a war.

“I told you all, I don’t want to-”

“Please Zuku.” Mei says, the first words she’s spoken in two months. Her voice is scratchy and unused. Izuku is helpless, unable to deny her. Not when she sounds so sad. He does sigh this time, but he smiles shakily anyways, hoping to bring some comfort to everyone in the basement with it.

It’s hard to smile when he has nothing and no one to smile for after all.

But he has his brothers and sisters, his comrades, his last remaining family. He can smile for them, at least. He feels some of the tension in Momo’s shoulders ease slightly because of it, and that’s all he can really hope for these days. He places a hand over the ones gripping his arm before letting it fall and letting her keep her hold on him.

“Alright. Gather ‘round everyone.” Izuku says, and there’s some brief shifting as they all form a circle. “According to Ikimi, he’s been able to send himself back all the way to the beginning multiple times. He’s never really sent anyone else back that far though, so it’ll be a new experience all around.”

“How does it work?” Hitoshi asks, seeming more awake than he has been in days.

“The energy used for his quirk materializes in the form of a marble-like sphere. While thinking of a specific year, you have to crush the marble between your teeth. He’s used it on me already.” Izuku says. “It’s the only reason why we still have Snipe. I managed to save him with it.” Snipe, not having known this beforehand, jerks slightly, his hands going to tug at his dreadlocks much like Momo used to do before she cut her hair off.

“Any side effects?” Hanta asks. He’s still working on patching the holes as they speak. Izuku will have to hand over his hero suit later to get his own patching done. At this point his costume is more tape than fabric. Maybe he should take Momo up on the offer of a new outfit, but he doesn’t want to waste her quirk. She’s already too thin.

“A few minutes of nausea and disorientation, phantom pains from old wounds, and a slight headache.” Izuku answers. “How it works is, instead of sending your body, it sends your consciousness, or maybe just your memories, back in time to your old body. When the Jump, as he calls it, is a short one, he can specify the day, or even the hour, that you want to go back to. But in longer Jumps like we’ll be making, it’ll automatically send you to midnight on the morning of that year’s birthday. So we wouldn’t all appear at the same time.”

“So the first of us would be Ecto.” Shouta says. Izuku nods in response.

“If all eleven of us manage to Jump, then yes. Ectoplasm in March, Mei in April. Neito in May. Hitoshi, then me, then Hanta in July. Momo first, then Yaorashi in September. Eijiro in October. Snipe and then Eraser, a day apart, in November.”

“Which, of course, means that I’m the last one to show up. Fantastic.” Shouta grumbles. Izuku smiles a bit at his misfortune.

“So, what happens if we can’t all Jump?” Eijiro asks next.

“Depending on what the limit would be, we would have to make a decision on who goes back. Of course there is always a chance that we go one at a time on this end, but it would be a lot of risk to Ikimi to be near us for that long of a time.”

“So who would we have to send if we have to choose a limited amount?” Hitoshi asks.

“I would like to remove myself from the running please.” Momo says quietly. Izuku looks at her in shock and concern. She has her body curled around his arm, her head tucked into his shoulder.

“Mo? Why?” Neito’s voice is near silent, but they all hear him anyway. Momo shifts closer to Izuku again, holding onto his arm tighter. Her smile is dry as she raises her head.

“Is it really so surprising? After Kyo, I’ve been unable to do hardly anything more than patch you all up. Everytime one or more of you leave, it sends me into a near panic attack. I wouldn’t be much use the way I am now.” Momo says. “And besides, if we go back, I’ll be in my younger self’s body, in my old home. My childhood was extremely strict, I wouldn’t manage to disappear quietly, or sneak out at night if we decided to stay.”

“But, Momo, you can see Kyouka again.” Eijiro says quietly. Momo smiles sadly at him.

“Eiji, that’s the problem. I wouldn’t be able to pretend like I don’t know her if I happened to pass her on the street. I wouldn’t be able to stay away, or keep myself together and not break down in tears.” Momo explains. Izuku has to admit, her reasoning is sound. If he sees Kacchan or Shouto…

Or his mother, or Toshinori, or Ochako, or…

“Then maybe I shouldn’t-” He starts to say.

“You have to go Deku.” Shouta cuts him off sharply. Izuku’s head snaps up from where he had let it drop.

“Why?”

Looks are shared around the circle. Hitoshi is the one to answer him, giving him a deadpan stare that could have rivaled Shouto when they first met. “Isn’t it obvious? You are our leader, the mastermind. Not to mention you have a near photographic memory. If we want to fix everything, which I’m sure we do, you’re the best bet at remembering all the information we’ll need. Your quirk analysis is invaluable, you have a mind for strategy comparable to Nezu, and most of all, you will know when to stop.”

“When to stop?”

“Not everyone who brought The End is unsavable. Some of them could be saved before they turn down the path of villainy and destruction. I can name three off the top of my head.” Hitoshi holds up his hand, his right, which still has all of his fingers, and counts those three off. “Dabi, Toga, and Hawks to start. Possibly even Shigaraki.”

The reminder of Hawks, who turned traitor due to his treatment by the Commission, stings. He’s the reason Nezu is dead. He’s the reason today is Grieving Day. Shouta killed him a few months later in revenge. Eraserhead’s first kill, and the event that got the ball rolling.

“I guarantee that at least half of us might not be able to hold back from killing someone for crimes they haven’t committed yet. You’re not like that Izuku. I bet you still think even Shigaraki can be saved.” Hitoshi continues. Izuku doesn’t bother to contradict him. Shigaraki is a homicidal, psychopathic, villainous maniac, but he is still just a victim. All For One is the reason Shigaraki is the way he is. Izuku hates him, and Shigaraki isn’t free of blame, but he is still a victim of his upbringing.

“Well, based on Mo’s logic, I don’t think I should go either.” Eijiro suddenly says. “I would give anything to see Katsuki again, but it would break me to do so when he won’t be my Katsuki. He won’t call me Ei, he won’t kiss me, hell he’d probably just be mean to me.”

“Okay, so that leaves nine of-”

“Eight.” Mei says. She doesn’t elaborate, and no one asks her to. Shouta corrects himself after a moment, clearing his throat and looking back at Izuku.

“That leaves eight of us left.”

“Technically seven, since we all agree Deku should go no matter what.” Hitoshi says.

Izuku twists his lips as he thinks about the best options of who should go. It’s easy to choose the next person. “Eraserhead has to go as well. His quirk will be invaluable.” And also, Izuku doesn’t want to go without him. Most days Shouta is all that keeps him standing tall for the others. He lets Izuku be weak, vulnerable. He lets him speak his thoughts and doubts and emotions without judgment or pity. He lets Izuku break when he refuses in front of everyone else.

How he got the position of their leader is beyond him sometimes.

“Fine, whatever.” Shouta grunts. Izuku can’t read the look on his face since it’s buried in his capture scarf.

“‘Fore we continue, I think a decision must be made.” Snipe says. “For whoe’er Jumps, the choice must be made on whether to disappear without a word and focus on the mission, or t’go about their days as normal and use the night for the mission.”

“In my opinion, I think we need to just disappear.” Hitoshi responds, picking at his nails with strange intensity. “I think I speak for everyone that it would be too much for us to pretend to be who we aren’t anymore. There’s been too much death, loss, and blood on our hands. We’ve been through too much for us to fly completely off the radar around those who know us best. At least when the mission is over, we can claim trauma for the holes in our stories.”

“Not to mention, that once I go back, Nezu will immediately see something wrong in the way I act around everyone. Rat always was too smart for my own good.” Shouta adds. Almost simultaneously, Snipe, Ecto and Shouta all mutter ‘praise the Rat God’ under their breaths, an old joke turned into a phrase of honor.

“Then I won’t go.” Yaorashi says. “I couldn’t do that to my family.”

“It wouldn’t matter either way for me.” Neito immediately adds on quietly, rubbing his throat absentmindedly. “I was a foster child.”

“Me too.” Hitoshi mumbles. He clears his throat and speaks louder. “So Deku and Eraser are musts, Neito and I are possible. Inasa, Mei, Eijiro, and Mo are out. That leaves Snipe, Ectoplasm, and Hanta.”

“Personally, I don’t think I would be a great asset in the Jump. Due to my quirk, I’m easily identifiable.” Hanta says, gesturing loosely to the large dispensers on his elbows.

“Then I, as well, can not go.” Ectoplasm says.

“I think it’d raise too much attention if two UA teachers disappeared, so I’mma have t’back out.” Snipe responds. “One’ll already be too much attention as is.”

“So to reiterate.” Hitoshi says. “Deku and Eraser are musts, Neito and I are possibilities, and everyone else is out. So if we can manage four, then all four of us will go. But at minimum Eraser and Deku are going. Good talk.”

“Do we want to leave it at that tonight?” Izuku asks. Another round of looks around the room.

“No, let’s hash it all out. Right now.” Eijiro says, gritting what’s left of his shark teeth. “I can’t stand another minute of silence. Fuck Grieving day. Let’s make the most of tonight and make a plan to save the world. For Katsuki.”

“And Kyouka.” Momo adds, voice cracking but still strong. A round of quiet agreements around the room, names of those they’d lost floating across the room before it silences.

Izuku looks at them in silence for a moment, and Eijiro holds his gaze. He looks more determined than he has in years. Izuku looks around the room, meeting nine more gazes just like Eijiro. These people, the last of his family, are ready to end this war once and for all. Izuku’s lips stretch in the sharpest smile he’s made in years.

“Then let’s get started.” Izuku says. And for the first time in what feels like an eternity, every single one of his remaining family smiles in response.

Chapter Text

Ikimi Kazuko, in Shouta’s opinion, is a very plain, very unassuming man.

In all honesty, he kind of reminds Shouta of Tsukauchi. Average height, plain brown hair that’s longer than Tsukauchi’s hair ever was in all the years Shouta knew the Detective. Blue eyes, frown lines, pale white skin. Plain, but not unhandsome.

Hizashi could have outshone him any day of the week.

Ikimi's shoulders hang heavy, like a heavy burden weighs them down. Given that this man is their last chance of survival, maybe Shouta isn’t too far off the mark. His eyes are red rimmed, and Shouta could know that kind of grief with his eyes closed. Like knows like after all.

He’s lost a child.

Shouta turns his eyes- or just eye- away in polite ignorance. Let the man grieve in peace. Instead, he looks at Izuku, his biggest Problem Child. Izuku’s tired eyes still shine with determination, days of planning for the past having lifted the blanket of grief he usually carries like a second skin. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Izuku so alive. Which is saying something, given he could blow away with a particularly harsh wind.

Shouta hates watching his last remaining kids slowly starve to death.

Between the borders having been shut down for years, the League ruling with an iron fist, and having to keep moving, which means packing light, it’s no wonder they are starving to death. What food they do find is already rare, given that stores and markets across the country have long since been scavenged. At the thought of food, his stomach tightens, but it doesn’t growl. His stomach gave up the cry for attention a long time ago. Ikimi greets them all quietly as he settles into their new temporary safe house.

Not much of a house though, given two walls are nearly completely rubble.

“Welcome Ikimi. I’m glad you got my message for the relocation. We’ve already hashed out our plans. We just need to clear a few things up with you, and then we’re ready when you are.” Izuku says, standing tall and shaking Ikimi’s hand with as much dignity as a starving man who has seen too much can. It’s a surprising amount, in Shouta’s opinion.

“No need for formality Deku. Call me Kazu.” Ikimi says, his lips formed in a tight smile. “What’s the need for political correctness when we have no government, right?”

“As you wish then Kazu. Call me Izuku or Deku, I don’t care either way.” Izuku responds easily. Shouta never understood how Izuku can keep up his smile all these years, even if it pains him to smile. Hopefully, after the jump, Izuku can smile like he used to again. Neito comes to stand against the wall beside him, bringing his attention away from his thoughts.

“Hey kiddo.” Shouta greets quietly, keeping his eyes on the outside, watching for danger as Izuku and the others finish with the last of the plan. Neito doesn’t say anything, and Shouta understands why. The past three days he’s talked more than he has since Hizashi died. His voice is probably gone, though whether permanently remains to be seen.

Neito waves his hand to grab Shouta’s attention. How do you feel about the Jump? Neito signs to him, and Shouta hums non committedly. That’s not exactly an easy question to answer.

On one hand, Shouta is a Hero. Or he was, in the Before. Going back in time, stopping The End, saving his kids and his friends and random civilians he’ll never know the names of. It’s all a dream come true. He can see his Sunshine again, and watch his kids grow up and become Heroes the way they were supposed to, instead of watching them die one by one in a war they didn’t deserve to be thrown into. He can show them how to be a Hero, instead of having to teach them the best way to kill.

But on the other hand, is he really ready to face all the people he’s lost when they won’t even know what he’s been through with them?

Can he face a Tenya who didn’t sacrifice his life to save the rest of his class? A Katsuki who never took out an entire armada of villains and Nomu alone so the others could get to safety, turning himself into a nuclear suicide bomber and destroying the entirety of Hokkaido? Can he face a Shouto who still shuts everyone around him out instead of being the closest thing to a therapist for everyone before he was Taken and Broken?

Can Shouta look his Sunshine in the eyes, and not break down in grief?

He doesn’t know if he can do that. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to walk away without a word like they planned. Shouta would have to disappear on his own fucking birthday, because he knows he’s too damaged to play pretend like he isn’t for even a day.

What kind of husband must he be, to not be able to look Hizashi in the eyes?

“I don’t know kiddo.” Shouta finally answers. When he looks to make sure no one is paying attention, he curls an arm around Neito’s shoulders to press the kid into his side. Yoarashi and Neito may not have started out as his kids, but they sure as hell are now. It’s been years since these two came to this group, after Squad B, or Old 1-B as the other kids call it, and Squad S, Yoarashi’s old class, were systematically wiped off the maps. Now it’s only Squad A left, and not many of them.

Shouta tunes into the conversation Izuku and Kazu are having just as Izuku finishes explaining the nature of his quirk. “So what do you think? Will I be Jumping with my quirk, or will I be quirkless again?”

Kazu breathes out long and slow, seeming to be processing the new information. If Shouta were a betting man, and if he had anything left to bet with, he would say Kazu is reeling more from the fact that One For All can’t be taken by force, rather than the whole history of it all. It’s easier to accept a quirk that can be passed on to another like a torch, what with the whole All For One thing. Theoretically, Izuku will always be the last one standing.

Shigaraki, who is also All For One now, can take any of their quirks at any moment.

But in Izuku’s case, he has to give it willingly. And from experience, not even prolonged torture will force that kid to give up One For All. He’s certainly become a force of nature over the years, picking up skills left and right, becoming his own one man army.

A strategic and analytical mind on par with Nezu, an aim as sharp as Snipe’s. The agility Shouta himself carries, or used to carry before he lost his fucking leg. The rage and determination of Bakugo Katsuki. A heart of gold and stone like Toshinori, the skill with a blade like Stain or Toga. The experience of a quirkless kid which gives him empathy.

Maybe if All For One had killed Deku first, they wouldn’t have lasted this long.

It’s a train of thought that Shouta has often gone down. If he was All For One, before the war truly went full swing, he would have killed Deku right after the last Sport’s Festival. Izuku didn’t have control of his terrifying quirk yet, he hadn’t gained the quirks of the past users yet, and he had revealed to the world exactly who he was. Not that anyone but All For One, Deku, All Might, Nighteye, Tsukauchi, Gran Torino and Nezu knew that yet. If he had been in All For One’s shoes, he wouldn’t have waited until the summer camp to make the first move, and then consequently fail, and lose to All Might in their last fight.

In all honesty, Shouta believes that Izuku is the only reason they lasted for as many years as they have.

Shouta had tried his best to lead after Nezu was killed, but he was never meant to be an Army Commander. He’s too brash, he doesn’t take instruction easily, and he never had the mind for strategic battle. He’s an ambush fighter, at worst an assassin. He’s not good at the whole leadership thing. Or the follower thing. Ever since he was a kid, Shouta has always been a lone wolf who doesn’t play well with others unless it’s absolutely necessary.

But Izuku?

Izuku was born to lead, quirk or no. Izuku has the heart, mind, soul, and strength of will needed of a leader. When Izuku took command alongside his classmates, they didn’t look to Tenya or Momo, the Class Reps, for direction. They looked at Izuku. Even Katsuki, who is too much like Shouta when it comes to the whole lone wolf thing, would listen to Izuku’s instructions. And only Izuku. Not even Eijiro could command him.

“Honestly, I don’t think so. It’s only the memories or the consciousness that gets Jumped.” Kazu replies, bringing Shouta’s attention out of his head again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, becoming stuck in his own head. He hopes to break that habit when they Jump. “If you Jump to a time where you didn’t have a quirk, which I assume you will, then I don't think it's possible. Sorry Izuku.”

Izuku shrugs it off, but Shouta sees the sorrow in his eyes at the information. “It’s alright, even if I did keep One For All, I wasn’t planning on using it for the mission unless absolutely necessary. It draws too much attention, and we plan to be shadows in the dark.”

Kazu smiles at him, but it’s weak. Shouta isn’t the only one who sees the sorrow in Izuku’s eyes.

Which reminds him. “I have a question.” Shouta says. “You say you’ve Jumped to the beginning a few times, right?”

“That is correct.” Kazu says.

“Then why is all of this still happening? Why didn’t you change things?” Shouta asks, and he keeps the judgment out of his voice. It’s a valid question. If he’s always had the ability to change things, why are they still the same? Why is the country still on it’s knees? Kazu winces at the question anyways.

“The thing is, I did change things.” Kazu says, sweeping an arm to gesture around them. “The first Jump was not nearly as bad as this timeline. Everytime I go back and interfere in any way, things have only gotten worse. I’ve tried enlisting the help of the real Heroes, but no one believes me, we still endure an apocalypse. I go back and meddle by myself, we still endure an apocalypse. This time, I’m deciding to send someone else back in hopes that they can change what I can’t.”

“Which is where we come in.” Shouta responds. “So then why wait until there’s only eleven of us left?”

“Short answer? I was looking for Deku.” Kazu says.

“Me? Why?” Izuku asks, and Shouta almost wants to laugh. This kid is joking right? Isn’t it obvious?

“Every single timeline, no matter what I change, Deku is the key player.” Kazu explains, pausing a moment to gather his words before speaking again. “If this were chess, you would be the King and Queen pieces. Take out the King, game over. But the Queen is the strongest piece on the board, able to move in every direction the other pieces can. That would be you.”

“What’s so special about me? Just because I have One For All?”

“Actually no.” Kazu responds, and Shouta can’t help but become curious. “The second time I jumped, I accidentally interfered in the Sludge Villain incident, and now that I know about One For All, I understand why such a minor incident changed so much of the timeline. In that Jump, Deku never had the awe inspiring quirk I could remember him having. But he was still a key player, he was just a lot easier to kill. I didn’t even stick around for the aftermath when you died, I just automatically Jumped.”

“Wait so I still become a hero without One For All?” Izuku says, eyes wide and hopeful and misty with unshed tears, and Shouta wants so badly to wrap the kid up and never let go. He knew Izuku never believed him when he said that a quirk doesn’t make a hero.

Kazu hums, tilting his head from side to side. “Not quite. It’s like you skipped the step of becoming a hero student and went right to being a War Commander. One second, Deku doesn’t exist. The next second, Nezu is killed, society almost breaks apart, and bam. Some random quirkless kid was leading the war effort like he was always there.”

“Always knew you were a force to be reckoned with, whether you had One For All or not.” Hitoshi says. Izuku startles with a squeak, and Shouta actually does chuckle this time.

“Not to say I told you so, but I told you so.” Shouta says. Izuku flushes red in embarrassment, and Shouta turns to Kazu. “So basically, this time you decided to send Deku back instead of yourself because he’s the key to success.”

“Got it in one.”

Shouta shakes his head, hiding his smile in his ratty old Capture Scarf. He can’t help the rush of pride filling his chest at the information. He knew from day one that Izuku was going to be great.

“Thank you.” Izuku whispers after the group descends into silence.

“Well then, since everything is sorted out, should we go ahead and do this now?” Momo asks.

“I’m ready when you-”

Kazu never finishes his sentence, because right then, the world explodes into chaos.

Shigaraki has found them.

Chapter Text

Neito is the first to react, shoving Shouta towards Izuku, Kazu, and Hitoshi. He raises his voice, despite the excruciating pain that spasms through his throat. “Go! We’ll hold them back!”

“I can-” Izuku starts to say but Neito cuts him off.

“We don’t have time! Go!”

Neito doesn’t wait for a response, already moving towards the hoard of Nomu heading in their direction.

Spitting out blood from the reopened scar, he takes a deep breath, and he uses Voice to scream. “YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” The force of Mic’s quirk blasts Nomu back enough to give him some breathing room.

The Commission, before it was torn apart by the enemy, had Taken and Broken many of the rebellion’s heavy hitters. For Neito, they tried to make him into another All For One, taking Copy and Breaking it. They had tried to make it into Permanent Copy, so that he can use any quirk he copies without a time limit. And in a way, they succeeded. But because they broke his quirk, his body no longer adapts to hold the quirk he copies like it used to. Using any quirk now gives him the quirk backlash the original owner experiences, except tenfold. Voice tears his throat apart and bursts his ear drums. Erasure makes him slowly go blind. Explosion breaks his wrists and bursts his eardrums. Half Hot, Half Cold will give him frostbite, hyperthermia, hypothermia, heatstroke, all of it, and within a few uses.

He can even copy One For All, even if using it will kill him.

But he doesn’t plan to survive this fight, so he doesn’t care. Snapping his eyes open, he uses Erasure to cancel the quirks of a group of villains, shooting both ice and fire out of their respective sides before using One For All to surge forward at the group. They see him coming and attempt to separate, but Neito doesn’t give them the chance. Using Explosion, he blasts them apart and himself back simultaneously. As he soars through the air, Neito tries to see the state of his remaining comrades.

Deku, Eraserhead and Mindjack are nowhere to be found. He hopes that means they Jumped without him.

Neito lands on his feet, gritting his teeth as he finds out the bones in feet are broken from that last move with One For All, his wrist snapped from Explosion. Willing himself to keep going, he sends out a stream of fire at the same time as he aims his face to the sky to use Voice, blasting a handful of flying Nomu backwards. They are all promptly shot down by Snipe.

He hears the cackle before anything else.

Neito, knowing Mei’s Mad Scientist laugh like the back of his hand, snaps his eyes in her direction. He does it just in time to see a veritable army of Nomu descend on Mei at once, and then all that’s left is fire. Mei pulled a Katsuki and suicide bombed her way out. The blast is big enough that the entire area for three blocks is leveled, and Neito is knocked off his feet and onto his back.

The breath is knocked out of him, and he wheezes as he tries to get it back. When Danger Sense tingles in the back of his head, Neito promptly rolls to the side. A flying Nomu hits the ground where he had been, having dive bombed him, and Neito doesn’t even hesitate to send ice shards through it, skewering the beast. He forces down the blurriness and nausea and pain to make himself move again.

This is nothing, he tells himself. A few broken bones, burned and frozen skin, that’s no big deal. That isn’t pain.

In quick movements, he uses One For All, Explosion, fire, ice and Voice. One For All to the left, Explosion to right simultaneously. The moment those two are done, he shifts his feet and uses Shouto’s quirk to take out the other two quarters of the battlefield, and Voice to take out the enemies in the sky. This sequence of quirks make his body tremble from all of the different pain.

This isn’t pain. Neito thinks, gritting his teeth to do it again. Pain is watching your friends die before your eyes. His eyes lock onto Momo in the distance, out of his range, lying motionless on a pile of Nomu. She’s so thin he doesn’t even know if there are any lipids left in her frail body. He hopes she gets to see Kyouka again.

Pain is watching your friends suffer.

Neito doesn’t bother with that same all out attack, the Nomu adapted too quickly and most of them dodged the attacks. His eyes are constantly roaming, searching for his remaining allies. Ectoplasm is still going strong. He had gathered all of his clones to form his giant form, and he’s rampaging across the battlefield. Crushing Nomu in his grip, stomping on them, throwing them around. Snipe is nowhere to be found, but if Neito strains his bursted ears, he still hears gunshots.

Ectoplasm spots him in the center of the fray, and scoops him up with one hand.

Having the chance to breathe may be harmful in the long run since it’ll let the adrenaline keeping him awake fade, but he has to take it anyway. He uses the opportunity of a better vantage point to survey the war zone they’ve walked into. He can see Kazu cornered by a few lowlifes as he’s killed, but he grins victoriously as he goes. Neito will take it to mean the other three did make the Jump.

Pain is knowing that you can’t change the hand that fate has dealt you.

The gunshots stop ringing at the same time a building collapses with a Nomu taking it down. Neito doesn’t even have to guess. Snipe’s gone. He went out doing what he’s always done, being a hero. They all have, even Kazu. And Neito wants that. He wants to go out in a blaze of glory. He wants to see fear in his enemies eyes as he goes. He wants…

He wants…

He wants to take out Shigaraki.

Renewed with determination, Neito forces his vision to focus with the use of One For All. Shigaraki likes the chaos of battle, he likes watching his enemies flounder and fail to survive. And with as many Nomu as there are right now, they need someone to control them. So Shigaraki will likely be close, but on the sidelines. Somewhere he feels powerful. Somewhere he can see everything.

Blue hair…

Blue hair…

There! He’s-

That rotten bastard. Shigaraki, standing tall and unbothered by the death of his Nomu, is standing on top of a pile of them. A pile, at which Momo created. A pile she died on. He is standing on her. How dare he treat her like trash? How dare he make a mockery of her final breaths? Standing on top of her like she’s dirt, like she didn’t mean anything to anyone. Momo is a warrior, a Goddess among men, a ray of love in a world full of hate, and he dares to defile her lifeless body!?

Physical pain fades, but grief never dies.

Forcing himself to his feet, and without a moment of delay, Neito rockets into the air.

Float, One For All, and Explosion send him soaring into the sky. Higher, higher than he’s ever been. So high he can’t choke down any oxygen through his battered throat, because there isn’t hardly any around him. When he can’t make himself go higher, he spins to face the ground.

Using Blackwhip is strangely easy for a quirk that would never activate for him.

Izuku had told him that Blackwhip was semi-sentient, and that it feeds off of anger. Neito has plenty of that right now. The tendrils rocket towards the earth, stretching and stretching until it feels like it’ll snap. Neito only allows himself to fall a few feet, and that’s all he needed to pierce the ground beside the pile of Nomu Shigaraki stands on.

With a scream of rage but not of Voice, Neito reels himself in like a rubber band snapping shut.

Explosion gives him a boost, One For All numbs the pain. Fire flares out from his left side like a wing of red and orange and blue, ice shards trailing through the air behind him. His eyes lock onto Shigaraki, and a moment later their eyes meet. Neito activates Erasure, the base power of One For All giving the quirk the ability to see other quirks’ cores. He’ll make an impact in about three seconds, give or take.

Three…

Neito finds the core of All For One, and then cuts the strings connecting it to the host. It’s strangely beautiful to look at, the cores of quirks dotting his vision like miniature stars. Izuku would have loved to see this.

Two…

Neito looks at Momo’s lifeless eyes, looking up at him blankly. Still under foot. Still inciting rage in his heart. In his eyes, Momo is far more beautiful than the paltry show the quirk cores put on. He’d say the same of Mei if she hadn’t blown herself up.

One…

Time seems to slow as he runs the faces of all those he’s lost through his mind. Kendo, Tetsutetsu, Vlad sensei. Nezu, Ms. Joke, Midnight, Present Mic. Katsuki, Shouto, Denki. Every single person they’ve lost in this godforsaken war runs across his mind’s eye. Some of them he doesn’t even know the names of.

He hopes Eijiro, wherever he is, is with Katsuki again, and Hanta has found peace. They aren’t anywhere he can see, and he lost track of them the moment the battle began. He holds no hope that they’re alive, he knows better by now.

Impact.

The world explodes around him in a blaze of fire, ice, and noise.

Monoma Neito, the Phantom Thief, has done the impossible, and eliminated not only the leader of villains, but also a huge chunk of-if not all of- the Nomu army. Perhaps, if the whole time travel thing weren’t possible, this day would be remembered as the Last Stand. This place, which happens to be Musutafu, because of course it is, would be known as the Phantom Fields. Neito would go down in history as the man who ended The End.

But this isn’t that story, and a new war rages on without him.

Chapter Text

Shinsou Hitoshi wakes up silently, stomach rolling harshly.

The room he’s in is dark, with no window, clock or light to guide him. He knows without even moving that a muzzle is on his face. Only two foster homes never used the muzzle. One turned into a real family, with a little sister and two dads. The other never got the chance since his quirk had yet to come in before they shipped him off somewhere else.

He takes a few minutes to himself, letting his head stop spinning like a top.

When he feels like going back to sleep, he sits up slowly instead so he doesn’t end up throwing up from the movement. That would be made even worse because of the muzzle. Running his hand lightly over the floor, he tries to find something to pick a lock with. After finding a paperclip and getting rid of the muzzle, he picks the lock to the door and slips out with his backpack. He needs to know if this is the Foster Home he thinks it is.

If the Jump worked like it should’ve then he should be in the foster home when he was twelve years old.

If his memory serves him right, and Hitoshi remembers everything about his foster homes, then this should be that rich couple. They had fostered him to gain sympathy points at their respective workplaces. They kept him well fed, and they never cared where he went or what he did so long as he was home by dark. During work dinners, he was allowed to talk, but never to ask questions. He learned not to test that rule only once, when they whipped him for daring to ask questions. They were, in his opinion, the best foster family he’d had, until he was adopted that is.

Hitoshi moves on silent feet to the living room.

They should have-

Right there. An obnoxious Baby Grand piano, that is bright fucking pink. Neither of the couple knew how to play, they forced him to learn so he could entertain their guests. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t the first or last either. God, he hates the piano. When they were forcing him to learn, he wasn’t allowed to stop playing for anything. Restroom, food, sleep. If he missed more than three notes each song the foster father would wack his hands.

He looked like he killed someone with his fists for two months straight.

Hitoshi turns around to head upstairs. They keep their safe in the bedroom, and that’s where they keep their money, so he’s going to take as much of it as possible. He sticks close to walls to better avoid the creaky floorboards, and slips inside the bedroom without much trouble. Both of the couple- god he can’t remember their names- are sound asleep as he makes his way silently to the safe. It only takes a few minutes to find it, and cracking the code takes only a few more.

Swiftly and silently, he empties out the safe full of yen until his bag is half full.

Heading back out of the bedroom, he drops by his closet-room to grab three pairs of clothes, two for the backpack, one to change into. Both his heavy and light jackets he goes ahead and puts on, strapping on his shoes before heading back out. This time he drops by the kitchen and grabs their sharpest kitchen knife, wraps it in a hand towel for safety and puts it in the side pocket for easy access.

He’s about to leave the kitchen when the fancy coffee maker catches his eye.

God, he hasn’t had coffee in over a decade. The smell of brewing coffee might wake the foster family, but it’s worth it. He sets the coffee maker to roast the couple's best grinds and grabs two fancy thermoses. It takes a few minutes, and it makes his anxiety spike a bit with every groan of the fancy house.

He wants to be far away by the time those two wake up.

The foster father is a giant of a man, and it’s not due to any quirk. He’s just that fucking big, unless his memories are distorted from being a child under their thumb at the time. Either way, Hitoshi is a scrawny twig of a kid, even if he remembers how to fight, he doesn’t have the body or weapons to do so.

The moment the coffee is done, he pours it into both thermoses and chugs the little bit left over.

He grabs a thick blanket on impulse and then he’s out the door and moving, going as fast as he can without attracting too much attention to himself. It’s a rich neighborhood, and it’s midnight. Any self respecting hero patrolling at this time would think he’s up to no good. While keeping to the shadows, he rolls the blanket up tight and pins it between his back and backpack, using the excess of the straps to tie the backpack down so it doesn’t bounce.

With Neito having stayed behind to give them time to Jump, Hitoshi is the first one back.

It was originally Neito’s job to secure a base of operations, since he would have had roughly two months to find one. Hitoshi only has two weeks. For the plan to be as smooth sailing as possible, he needs to have a place secured before Izuku Jumps. Once Izuku gets here, they’ll have about four months to prepare before Dad returns.

There’s a lot to do in four months.

While planning, Mei had taken it upon herself to design battle suits that would prepare them for anything, as well as any and all support items, and then gave detailed instructions on how to build everything for Izuku to memorize. She got down to even the color schemes. Hitoshi thinks it was the most content she’d been since Powerloader. So Izuku has to build three very complicated, very decked out suits and support gear.

On top of that, there’s the computer station. Izuku will be both the man in the chair, and a field operative, so he’ll need heavy duty computer systems and somewhere safe to store them so they won’t get sold for parts. There’s also that fact that both of them will have to start training their bodies immediately since neither of them were very fit before UA. Not to mention the research and recon needed for their first job.

Since Eri is probably three, her quirk hasn’t come in yet, which means they have no reliable reason to take her from Overhaul yet. As much as it pains him to let it happen, she will have to suffer at least a little bit for them to have reason enough that the heroes won’t send her right back in.

Which means mission number one, find Dabi. He’s old enough to be on the streets already, but they don’t know his exact age. If Shouto were here, he would know. Izuku will probably have a better estimate when he Jumps. (If the Jump has already happened, does that mean they’ve Landed?) Either way, Dabi is a small-time criminal until the whole Stain thing happened. So if they can save him, that’s already a huge blow to the future League. Shigaraki too if they can manage it.

This is gonna be a long few years.

Hitoshi hops on a night train to get out of town. They don’t want their base to be too close to any of their old homes. So Mustafu is out, but that’s a problem for the morning. Right now, he needs to find somewhere relatively safe to rest. Then he’ll run to the store for heavy calorie snacks and non perishables. He’ll need a healthy weight if he wants to get to be as fit as he was in his prime, before the borders closed and there was still food to be found.

Now that he thinks about it, why the hell did he not grab some food from the foster house?

Hitoshi sips lightly at the coffee, savoring the flavor of it more than he would have before. The train is pretty much empty, but there’s a few people who are probably heading home from the night shifts. He keeps his head down, but his eyes on the people around him. There is a lot of fucking yen in his bag right now, being mugged is the last thing he wants to happen.

Finding a safe place to sleep is easy, since he knows all of Dad’s safe houses.

Hitoshi knows better than to rely on Dad’s safe houses the whole time, he doesn’t want to interact with Eraserhead until his Dad has Landed. (No, he hates it. He needs a better word for it.) Either way, one night shouldn’t be too bad. So long as he keeps an ear out for anyone approaching, he can get out the back door silently with no one the wiser.

With a roof over his head, and two big thermoses of coffee in hand, he’s ready to pull an all-nighter.

Hitoshi, as he settles into the corner closest to the back exit of the little hidey hole room under a bridge, wonders idly at the mission looming before him. It’ll be hard as fuck to manage to wipe out everyone who contributed to The End with only three people. Not to mention, they’ll need to keep their heads down and noses clean to keep off of All For One’s radar. He’s by far the biggest threat right now.

The main people they need to focus on first will be the Todoroki family, Shigaraki, and maybe Kurogiri. That’s depending on if they can break All For One’s hold on him and bring back Oboro. Todoroki Touya is the main concern, but in order to help Dabi, they need to help Shouto. And to do that, they need to take down Endeavor. The Todoroki Scandal was the beginning of the Commission’s attempts to take control.

When the public lost faith in heroes because of Endeavor, they tried to biologically re-engineer some of the strongest heroes in training.

That’s how Shouto died. They played around in his quirk factor a bit too much, and by the time the rescue squad reached them, Shouto had already fried to a crisp on one side, and froze solid on the other- but on the sides that they didn’t belong. They’d tried to combine the two seperate quirk factors of fire and ice so he could use them both on both sides.

It’s also how they broke Neito’s quirk.
If they can manage to expose Endeavor early, it might allow the public a chance to move on before All Might’s fall from power. Risky, but necessary. After that it’ll likely be Hawks next, to start the Commission’s reform before they have a chance to assume total control. God, and that’s only the start.

So much to do and not enough time.

Hitoshi wishes he wasn’t twelve years old, because he could really go for a shot of vodka right about now.

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku wakes up choking back a scream and a sob.

He presses his hands to his face tightly, trying to muffle the sounds of his own ragged breath. He doesn’t want to wake up his mother, he couldn’t handle that right now. He can’t let her see him like this, and he can’t see her or he’ll break down. Taking long, slow, deep breaths around his fingers, he calms himself down as much as possible. The rolling in his stomach is not as bad as it could have been, and he’s used to pain, so he forces himself to sit up.

This is no time to have a breakdown.

Despite knowing, in his heart, that all the rest of his family are dead, he refuses to break down. They won’t be able to go back to the future, since if this plan works like it should, their future will be gone in all but memory. The last three survivors. Izuku doesn’t have time to break, there’s too much to be done. First things first? He needs a notebook.

Izuku crawls out of bed silently, going to his desk to grab a fresh notebook and a pen.

He writes furiously by the light of the moon and his phone. He doesn’t want to turn on his lamp in case his mother wakes up in the middle of the night. Belatedly, Izuku pauses in his writing to check the date, just to be sure he really is twelve years old.

He makes sure to write down everything he can remember.

Admittedly, it’s a lot. Enough to fill two whole notebooks, one for the plan and targets, the other just for Mei’s extensive explanation on how to build the suits to her exact specifications. He wonders if he should feel offended. He may not be good at the whole inventing part of the process, but he sure as hell can build something. He’s not exactly incompetent. Nezu made sure Izuku had extensive knowledge on everything and anything.

He knows how to build a bomb out of household items, how to hack into highly secure networks with only a phone. He knows heroic law so well he could probably take the BAR exam in over twelve different countries and pass with flying colors. Izuku can perform surgery, albeit nothing very clean and clinical. Recovery Girl taught him that. He can recite from memory Nezu’s backup plan to take over the world if he gets bored or annoyed with the Commission. Not that he ever got the chance to test it because of Hawks.

The list goes on.

The moment the last word is put down on paper, Izuku checks his email. They had come up with a code to let each other know that their Jump was successful. Hitoshi should have emailed him by now. There it is too, at the top of his multitude of emails.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

1217131SC

Really? That’s his email address? Izuku can’t really judge though, given his own. Wow he was a cringey kid. The numbers may not mean anything to Hitoshi and Shouta, but they mean something to him.

Twelve rebels, including Kazu. One support engineer. Seven hero students. One civilian. Three veteran heroes. One Second Chance. 1217131SC. Izuku responds with the same sequence. He wanted the numbers to appear random to anyone who might find them, given he knows for a fact that Nezu will end up searching Shouta’s email when he goes missing, but he wanted them to mean something to them. If Hitoshi or Shouta asks he’ll tell them, but otherwise, it’s just a code.

It also gives him the chance to have something to send with Eri, and maybe others when they save them.

It might not have been brought up during the planning process but Izuku already knows where a few of the people they’ll save will go. Eri to Hizashi, Toga to Vlad King. Shigaraki to either Gran Torino or All Might, depending on how bad Shigaraki’s brainwashed hatred of All Might extends. Spinner to Recovery Girl, they had discovered pretty easily that Spinner turned villain because he was barred from getting a medical license due to his appearance.

Dabi will likely go to Tsukauchi, or perhaps even Izuku’s own mother.

By having this code be known to Nezu as being related to Shouta, he can send notes with each of the ones to be saved that’ll basically say Contact Principal Nezu, UA High School. 1217131SC. Or something like that anyways.

Izuku finally gets the message back from Hitoshi that only says train station. It doesn’t specify which one, but Izuku already knows. He means the station closest to UA. He doesn’t bother responding, grabbing his backpack and emptying it out. In it he places in a few pairs of clothes to wear, a few of the essentials like toothbrush and toothpaste, and his spare pair of red shoes. He also puts three fresh notebooks, a pack of unopened pens, the notebooks with his plans, and a single All Might figurine. It’s the oldest one he has, a toy he got when he was kid.

Looking around the dark room, he tries to think of what else he’ll need to bring with him.

Hitoshi will have a base figured out by now, or he should. Izuku knows he was working with a lot less time than planned with Neito among them, but Hitoshi is crafty. He’ll have figured something out. Twisting his lips as he thinks, he goes ahead and slips on both his lightest and heaviest jackets, tying his shoes.

Is there anything else he can take that will be essential?

He’s got clothes and toiletries, he’s got spare underwear, spare shoes, notebooks and pens. Most of the parts for the gear they’ll need Izuku can scavenge, steal or buy. There’s not much else he needs to take. Izuku slips the backpack on and goes to leave, but pauses before he reaches the door. He doesn’t want to just disappear like this, it’ll break his mother’s heart.

Maybe he should leave a note? Yeah, he’ll leave a note.

Turning back to his desk, he grabs his latest Hero Analysis for the Future volume, number ten. Smoothing it open to the first empty page, he sits down and writes his note.

Dear Mom,

It isn’t easy to do this, but I left. I know it’ll be hard to understand why today of all days, but it’s something I must do. You have been there for me my entire life, keeping me safe, keeping me happy. You are the only thing I lived for for so long, but it’s my turn now. It’s my turn to protect you. I’ll come home, eventually, and when I do I might not be the same me that you remember, but it was all for you.

Always for you.

Know that, no matter how long I’m gone, or what others try to tell you, I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. Wait for me? I know it’s a cruel thing to ask of you, after leaving so abruptly, but I can’t help but do so anyway. I love you.

Love, your baby boy, Izuku

1217131SC

Izuku goes to leave it at that but he freezes before he even puts down his pen.

P.S. Tell Kacchan it isn’t his fault and that he’ll always be my image of Victory.

Satisfied, despite the pain in his chest not due to old battle wounds, he opens his bedroom door and sneaks out of the apartment. He makes quick work of heading to the trainstation to meet hitoshi, but he slows down when he passes Kacchan’s house. He allows himself a moment to stare at the front door. He lets himself reminisce of the good times for only a moment, before he turns away and heads to the train station.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi spots the head of unruly green hair before Izuku spots him.

Pushing off the wall, he makes his way up behind Izuku silently. He gets all the way to a foot behind him as Izuku continues to walk around the relatively empty train station. Reaching forward, he taps Izuku’s shoulder, only to have his wrist snatched before he can do anything else. Izuku glances behind him at Hitoshi wearily as he twists Hitoshi’s wrist slightly. Hitoshi only reacts with a smirk.

“Seriously Toshi?”

Hitoshi shrugs, still smirking as his wrist is given back to him. “What can I say, I live to make you miserable.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, but Hitoshi can see a little smile peeking through. He’ll consider that an accomplishment. The train ride from Mustafu is long and quiet, and Izuku falls asleep on his shoulder. He may not look like the scarred, war torn, starving man he was before the Jump, but he still has the eyes of him. World weary and red rimmed. Hitoshi hasn’t actually seen Izuku cry for over a decade, only ever the aftermath.

Dad’s the one who Izuku could be weak in front of.

Not for the first time, Hitoshi wishes he was given the honor of being there in Izuku’s worst moments. He always keeps- or perhaps kept, since they’re no longer in the middle of an apocalypse- a strong visage about him around the others. Especially Momo. After losing Kyouka in arguably one of the worst ways possible, she was too fragile of heart to be much of a hero.

Kyouka’s loss broke Momo, like Powerloader’s death broke Mei.

Izuku never got the chance to grieve for Shouto or Katsuki or anyone else, too busy leading a war effort. Hitoshi wonders if he ever let the wound close, or if it still bleeds sluggishly underneath the bandaid he slapped on it. The rest of them did. The rest of the remaining rebels, remaining heroes, all were given a chance to mourn and move on in their own time. Even so, some wounds never heal.

Hitoshi wouldn’t have kept going if not for Dad.

Denki was Hitoshi’s first big loss. It was early on in the war, right after the hero schools were systematically destroyed one by one, forcing students like them to go on the run and fight in a war they never should have been in. They never even got the chance to go on a real date. Stolen kisses in between battles. Promises to stay alive. Holding each other close on cold nights and telling stories of what they’ll do after the war. That was all Hitoshi got. Denki broke his promise.

Then it was Pops.

In the rescue mission for those Taken by the Commission, Pops died giving the ones who were Taken a chance to get away. Neito had Copied Voice before the fact, and after Pops fell, had his throat crushed by a Nomu. That whole battle was nothing more than a massacre. A three way fight between the Heroes, the Commission, and the League. He still has nightmares of the slaughter that happened that day.

Then it was little Eri.

None of them, the last eleven, ever knew what happened to her. All they knew was that Eri was stationed at the last remaining stronghold, caring for the injured as they came in droves. Centuries ago, an aid station was a taboo target. You strike an aid station and your own gets attacked right back, eye for an eye style.

Not this time.

The only reason they know the last stronghold fell is because when they went to try and get supplies, the entire city was leveled. No survivors that they could find. They never found Eri’s body. For months, in the back of Hitoshi’s mind, he wondered if his little sister would be the next Nomu they fought.

Hitoshi snaps out of his melancholic thoughts as the train comes to a slow halt.

Shaking Izuku awake, they head to the base. Finding it was hell. Sure, there’s plenty of abandoned buildings across the country. But finding one that was easily defensible, unlikely to be found by heroes or villains alike, and still having running water and electricity is another thing altogether.

The one he found was once an underground and aboveground parking garage.

The top of the garage collapsed during a villain fight, presumably anyways, and it seems no one ever bothered trying to rebuild it. The underground part was buried, but after digging and manuevoring some debris around, he had a relatively concealed entrance. Since it’s connected to city powerlines it still has power. No shower, though there are bathrooms at least. No matter, there’s an abandoned apartment building a block down the road that gets water, so they can go there for a shower.

If he’s reading the graffiti right, it’s basically all access to the homeless population.

He hasn’t run into any problems with it at least. There were other people around, using the rundown apartments as their places to sleep, but there’s a single apartment that is all access. So long as you only use that one, and don’t venture into other homeless people’s claimed territories, there’s no problems to be had.

Izuku is quiet the entire time Hitoshi explains all of this, but there’s something calculating in his eyes.

Hitoshi bets he’s already planning out how to get all of the parts they need for the suits, support items, and computer setup. Hitoshi waits patiently as Izuku looks around the underground parking garage. It’s not too much to look at. Some of the topside rubble had collapsed along the outer edges of the entire garage, but luckily the center pillars were still standing steady, so the center of the large underground space is largely untouched. If Hitoshi were to guess, whatever happened to the garage happened in the center, at least a floor off of ground level, and going outwards. Which is why most of the underground part is untouched in the center.

As far as he could figure out, there’s one or two stories below them, but he hasn’t had time to clear the rubble enough to access them all.

“This is perfect Hitoshi.” Izuku says suddenly, still looking at the room with appraising eyes. Hitoshi absolutely does not puff his chest out in pride a little. Two weeks was an awfully short time, but he still managed it with flying colors. “I already know where some things will be set up.”

Izuku then starts a mumble fest, pointing out where he wants to put things and what things to put. Apparently, he’s planning to place a large sparring circle in the center of the room and a workout area with weights and things in one part of the room to the left. A set up of aerial silks, to help with familiarizing themselves with the movements of the modified capture weapons. Along the farthest wall, that’s where Izuku will set up his computer and hacking station.

“I want to have a few filing cabinets, to store all the files that aren’t immediately needed. Oh and we’ll need a few beds, over in this corner, yes, closest to the exit.” Izuku keeps rambling. Hitoshi just leans against a pillar and watches in amusement. It’s like Izuku is trying to turn this crappy, crumbling, underground garage into a mockery of hero agency.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he probably is.

Should he tell Izuku to tone it down a bit? Maybe. Is he going to? Fat fucking chance. If decking this place out is what makes Izuku happy, then by god, that’s what they’re gonna fucking do. It’s been a while since he’s seen his fearless leader be so talkative. He’s usually quiet and introspective, and has been for a long time. Even during those long days and nights of planning he didn’t talk so freely and certainly not with so much excitement.

If Hitoshi weren’t still in love with Denki all these years later, he thinks he could definitely fall for this cute green haired genius.

“And maybe a sort of lounge area? It doesn’t have to be fancy, just somewhere we can relax in between saving the world.” And he’s still fucking going. God, Hitoshi almost forgot how much this guy can talk. Is he even breathing while he speaks? Maybe that was his original quirk, the ability to not need to breathe as long as he’s running his mouth. “I’ll need a workstation too, for making and repairing the suits and support items. And-” Izuku suddenly gasps and rounds on Hitoshi, startling him a bit as Izuku suddenly gets in his face. “Can we steal a few motorcycles!?”

Hitoshi, not the first nor the last time, has no idea how to respond for a moment.

“You are way too excited about the idea of stealing Zuku.” Hitoshi says blandly, neither agreeing or disagreeing with the notion. He’ll leave that problem for Dad. Izuku pouts at him.

“I’ve always wanted a motorcycle though. Was gonna get one when I became a hero, but that was before One For All, and frankly with One For All, I’m faster than a motorcycle.” Izuku says. Hitoshi opens his mouth to respond, but Izuku has already moved away, already moving back into his plans for their base.

Hitoshi shakes his head with a smile and decides to leave him to it while he sets Izuku up to sleep tonight.

In the two weeks of waiting, Hitoshi has managed to buy a pile's worth of nonperishable food, two sleeping bags, a few extra blankets, and burner phones. If Hitoshi knows Izuku at all, and he knows him fairly fucking well by now, he’ll probably end up revamping the burner phones to be far more high tech. Whatever, let Zuku have his fun. When Dad gets back, the real work will begin, so might as well make use of what time they have right now.

“Wait.” Izuku suddenly says, turning to Hitoshi with narrowed eyes. He raises an eyebrow as he continues to spread out Izuku’s sleeping bag. “How much money did you steal from your foster family?”

Hitoshi grins, grabs his backpack, and holds it open for Izuku to look into.

Izuku just kind of stares at the stacks of yen he’s not even made a dent in before a sharp smile lights up his face. It’s the same smile he wears when he goes to battle. Fierce, feral, a little bit too animalistic to be normal. If you ask him, Izuku got it from Nezu. A little too wide, baring the teeth a little too much, top lip curling back slightly to show his canines. Perhaps if they were a tiny bit sharper, it would be even more threatening than it already is.

“Oh this’ll do.” He says quietly. “This’ll do very nicely.”

Chapter Text

Izuku may have gone a little overboard.

He can’t help it though! Ever since he was a kid he’s dreamed about opening his own agency. Designing it, running it, hell, he was even dreaming about the paperwork that comes with owning his own agency. Weird, he knows. Even still, he kind of went over the top.

In his defense, all of this will be useful.

Within the span of three weeks, Izuku has managed to turn the drab underground parking garage into somewhat of his dream agency. A fully decked out gym area complete with weights, a small but realistic rock climbing wall, a bench press, and yoga mats to use since the floor is still concrete. The gym area is along the left wall about the center of the room, and next to it on the right is three sets of aerial silks. Black, purple and green.

On the left side of the gym area is Izuku’s workstation. A workbench that is basically just a large L-shaped desk, with various heavy duty tools on or around it. A sewing machine and a welding block to start with. Closest to their hidden entrance, on the right side of the room are three sleeping areas. Not beds, areas. They’re all sectioned off by dividers, with curtains as doors. Each one comes with enough space for a small bedside drawer with a lamp on top, a waist high bookshelf, a standing mirror, and a makeshift sink.

Basically a sink, but instead of plumbing pipes, the used water empties into a bucket that needs to be manually changed.

In the farthest corner to the right, a large computer station with four computer screens and it’s own small generator to avoid showing the spike of energy use to officials. Next to it is a small bookshelf and a filing cabinet, as well as one of those collapsible drawer things filled with blank notebooks. Very center of the room there’s a large set of mats which he drilled to the floor so they don’t move, with a big white circle painted on it.

Along the ceiling, strings of fairy lights are used to brighten up the place and make it feel homier.

There’s also a lounge area along the back wall beside the computer station. Complete with a couch, coffee table, and tv. Izuku also put in a makeshift kitchen area, with bookshelves for the storage instead of cabinets, a desk instead of a countertop, another makeshift sink, and two mini fridges. When everything is done, set up, and ready for use, Izuku looks at Hitoshi with tears in his eyes.

“Thank you Toshi, thank you for letting me have this.” Izuku whispers. Hitoshi only smiles at him softly.

“If this is what makes you happy, then no problem.” Hitoshi rubs his neck sheepishly as he looks away. “It does make me feel better that we mostly scavenged half this stuff from Dagobah and abandoned buildings though.”

“Plus it helped get us started on strength training.” Izuku adds in helpfully. His arms still ache from lugging all of the big items from Mustafu, and then getting them into the base? God that was terrible. He forgot how much his body hurt while preparing for One For All so many years ago. “Now that it’s all set up, we need to make a schedule for our preparations until Shouta shows up.”

Hitoshi groans low in his throat. “God, just call him Dad already.”

Izuku’s face lights on fire as he splutters indignantly, before deciding to just ignore that comment. “Come on, let’s sit on the couch while we work up a schedule.”

Izuku makes a detour to grab a fresh notebook from the computer station and a pen before collapsing into Hitoshi’s side on the couch. Propping the notebook up on his knees, Izuku labels the book as simply Preparations. He flips it to the first page so he can start off with a bulleted list. The pages aren’t numbered, so he goes ahead and numbers each page back and front in the outer corners up to fifty, that way they can keep the notebook organized.

Hizashi taught him that…

“So, to begin, we need a list of everything that we need to do before Shouta Jumps, simplified into a few words.” Izuku starts. He goes ahead and labels the first four bulleted points as Hitoshi’s workout plan, Hitoshi’s meal plan, Izuku’s workout plan, and Izuku’s meal plan. Hitoshi, reading over his shoulder, makes a noise that draws his attention.

“Do we really need to separate our meal plans and workout plans? Wouldn’t it be simpler to just do one workout and meal plan?” Hitoshi asks. Izuku is already shaking his head before Hitoshi finishes the question.

“We have very different bodies, which have different needs. It’s better to plan out different ones for each of us so it’s better tailored to our specific requirements.” Izuku explains. “For example, the biggest difference, your workout plan will have to include quirk training. Since it’ll be years yet if and when I get One For All, I don’t have to worry quite as much about it.”

Hitoshi nods. “Makes sense. The next bullet point will have to be either the suits or support items.”

Izuku writes down those in the next two bullet points. “We also need to make sure our combat skills stay sharp, but sparring against each other too much will lead to developing weird habits.”

“There’s always gyms.” Hitoshi says. Izuku hums in thought for a moment, contemplating the pros and cons in his head, before refusing.

“No, we don’t want to have to explain why we’re already so skilled. And besides, gym memberships lead to paper trails, and people knowing our faces. We are technically runaways right now, and I don’t want to give my mother a chance to find me.” Izuku says, even as pain flares up in his heart at the mere thought of pushing his mother away so callously. It’s needed, but that makes it no less painful to do.

“Well, we’re already planning on being sort of vigilantes, why not go ahead and start doing so now?” Izuku goes to reject but Hitoshi continues before he gets the chance. “Think about it. Being your everyday type of vigilante now gives us a chance to keep our skills sharp, identities hidden, let us get out of this garage so we don’t go mad, and we can use it as another form of information gathering. Plus, if we get our names out as vigilantes sooner, instead of all three of us at once, it won’t be as strange to anyone assigned to our cases. Like, I go out first, get my name out a little, then you, then Dad, and it’ll be more like I’m just picking up strays instead of an organized group.”

“I hate that you make so many good points.” Izuku grumbles after a moment of consideration. “Okay fine.” He says, marking down Vigilante work on the next bullet point.

“Got any ideas for what else absolutely needs to be done that can’t wait until Dad gets here?” Hitoshi asks. Izuku considers the short list already down. Both workout plans, both meal plans, suit and support item construction, and vigilante work.

“I can go ahead and start building my information network now as a hacker.”

“Put it down then.”

Izuku does so obediently, and then taps his pen against his chin. Suddenly a thought races across his mind. “Wait, if we’re going to go ahead and start getting our names out there as vigilantes, what will our names be?”

Hitoshi kind of just stares for a moment but groaning and sliding lower on the couch. “This is figuring out hero names all over again.” He complains. Hitoshi’s head lolls to the side so it’s in Izuku’s lap, covering his notebook. Izuku can’t help the exasperated amusement that fills him.

“You didn’t even pick your name out, Denki did.” Hitoshi only groans louder and lets his full weight crush Izuku’s legs. Izuku hums out lazily. “Like father, like son as they say.”

Izuku has to lean sharply to the side to avoid Hitoshi hitting him with a flailing hand.

“I don’t even know what my name would be. We can’t have it related to our quirks to both minimize connections to our old lives, and keep our quirks as wild cards.” Hitoshi whines. Izuku hums in agreement.

“I could list out themes and you shoot them down to help narrow our thought process?”

Hitoshi huffs and sits up. “Sure, go for it.”

“Mythology, like Greek or Roman or one of the other million ancient religions’ gods?”

“No, because if we get into that you won’t shut up for days, and also, it’s a little cliche.” Hitoshi responds immediately. Izuku grumbles, he liked that idea though.

“Okay fine. How about important numbers to us? Like I could be Nine, as in the Ninth holder of One For All?”

Hitoshi shakes his head. “That’ll bring too much attention from All For One. No dice.”

“Something related to shadows?”

“Lame.” Hitoshi drawls, dragging the word out a moment. Izuku pouts at him.

“Nicknames that are important to us from our past lives?”

“Connections to our past-future?- is a bad idea all around.” Hitoshi says with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay fine, let’s speed round it.” Izuku offers. “I say something and all you say is yes or no.”

Hitoshi shrugs. “Hit me.”

“Colors.” Hitoshi says no.

“Gems.” Hitoshi says no.

“Old cartoon characters.” Hitoshi actually laughs at him.

“Alcohol brands.” Hitoshi, thankfully because Izuku only said that to say it, says no with a snort.

“Nature based things.” Another no.

“Something Fumikage would say.” Hitoshi hesitates, but eventually decides to say no.

“Card suits?” Hitoshi pauses, considers it, and then shakes his head. Izuku is getting frustrated. Why is he making this so difficult!?

“Oh come one! I like that last one! We could use playing cards as calling cards!”

“Do you want to mass buy a bunch of card decks?” Hitoshi fires back, and Izuku wilts with a mumbled no. Shouta would be so disappointed to learn where all their yen was going towards when he Jumps. “Why not choose something that has meaning to us and us alone?”

“Like what?” Izuku asks. Hitoshi blows out a breath.

“I don’t know. Something that would mean something to us alone, but wouldn’t be easily connected to us from before or after our disappearances? Plus we have to keep it open ended so Dad can choose his own name.”

“I’m drawing a blank on what we could use.” Izuku admits.

“Oh come on Zuku, you chose your hero name before, why is this so hard for you?” Hitoshi laments. Izuku gives him a blank look.

“Hitoshi, my hero name was the nickname Kacchan called me to make fun of me for being quirkless, and I just reclaimed it. You and Shouta both just used the first name your crushes suggested. None of us ever actually put deep thought into our hero names before.” Izuku says. Hitoshi looks at him for a moment before just collapsing backwards onto the other end of the couch, sprawling out haphazardly and refusing to get up when Izuku nudges him.

“Where’s Neito when you need him, he’s done this before.”

Izuku snorts. “Neito stole his hero name from an old play or whatever. The Phantom of the Opera? Yeah, he stole it.”

“Momo then.”

“Shortened and cutesified her quirk name.”

Hitoshi raises his head with a desperate look on his face. “Shouto? Katsuki? Fucking, Tenya!?”

“Went with his first name and never changed his mind. Tried to call himself Lord Explosion Murder the first try, and Igenium was inherited from his brother.” Izuku explains, watching with amusement as Hitoshi flounders.

“Tsu?” He whispers quietly.

“She’s one of the only ones who actually had a name picked out since childhood and kept it.”

“Ochako, Mina, Denki?”

“First name plus gravity equals Uravity, tried Alien Queen but got shot down and went with Pinky, and Charger plus Lightning bolt equals Chargebolt. Our friends were, largely, uncreative.” Izuku snickers, taking pleasure in Hitoshi’s long suffering moan. Deciding to draw out his pain a little, he goes down the list of the rest of his old classmates. “There was Tailman and Invisible Girl. Tokoyami actually went with a god of death as Tsukuyomi so that was cool, if slightly unoriginal. Red riot, as in Crimson Riot. Kacchan eventually decided with Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Kyouka went with Earphone Jack, as in her Quirk name. Anima, as in animal, again, relating to Koji’s quirk.”

“Please stop.”

“Yuga chose Can’t Stop Twinkling, but it was originally I Cannot Stop Twinkling.”

“A whole ass sentence, why not. Please stop. I forgot how bad everyone’s hero names were.” Hitoshi says weakly.

“Says you, MindJack.” Izuku fires back. “Mineta went with Grape Juice before he was kicked out. Tentacole, tentacle. Sugar Man for Rikido. Cellophane was decent at least.”

“My god I hate this. Can we just leave the naming to the cops then?”

“Do you want to leave it to the cops and press?” Izuku asks, slightly curious if he’ll say yes just to avoid doing it himself.

“No.” Hitoshi sighs out.

“Then get the hell up and help me figure this out.” Izuku demands, patting Hitoshi’s leg. “Come on, the sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can get to work.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too Toshi.”

Chapter Text

One month, a shit ton of sweat and aches and exhaustion, and many nights of no sleep, and Hitoshi is ready to hit the streets at last.

He’s bulked up considerably, at least compared to when he first Woke Up. (He really needs a better name for the aftermath of the Jump, because this is ridiculous.) He can at least be in constant exertion for hours at a time without stopping, so there’s that. Hitoshi can’t wait to finally get out of this garage, he feels like he’s going insane.

All he’s done since they finished fleshing out the Preparations notebook, is workout, sleep, and go get food, with the occasional quirk training peppered in. Mostly, for his quirk training, he would just practice holding the string without pulling it taut or letting it go. Other training for his quirk is rapid control and release, or fighting against someone trying to break free. Without One For All, it’s a hell of a lot easier keeping Izuku under, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy overall.

But finally, Izuku has finished Hitoshi’s suit.

The anticipation is worse than actual torture, especially since Izuku’s moved his workstation to the second floor and forbidden Hitoshi to come down. Said it was a ‘surprise’, and that he has to ‘wait’. But it’s done, all he has to wait for now is for Izuku to bring it upstairs to the main area and let him try it on.

“Zukuuuuuu!” Hitoshi hollars down the hallway/driveway thing since he’s still not allowed to go down there. “Hurry uuuup!”

“Hold your horses!” Izuku yells back up at him, and finally he rounds the bend where Hitoshi can see him, holding a box that most surely has his outfit. He’s so excited he can feel his vocal cords vibrating without making noise.

“If I had a horse I still wouldn’t hold it!” Hitoshi yells back at him, being extra loud just to make Izuku glare at him as he comes within capture scarf distance.

Hitoshi trails behind Izuku closely as they go further into the main area, where there’s plenty of space. He barely holds himself back from pouncing on the box when Izuku sets it down. Izuku huffs, turns to him and crosses his arms.

“Alright strip, I’ll give you it piece by piece so I can explain what you need to know as we go.” Izuku commands, and Hitoshi is already ripping his shirt off before he finishes. After years of living in close quarters with the last eleven with no space for privacy, he doesn’t feel self conscious to be mostly naked in front of anyone anymore. Izuku’s seen the scars he has now, as well as all of the scars he’s gained over the years so many times, it’s like there’s no scars in the first place.

He doesn’t even care about the whip scars along his back anymore.

To Hitoshi, his scars are marks of honor. Proof that he survived, that he endured, and that he still showed everyone who ever doubted him that they’re wrong, and that he can be a hero. He’s just throwing his jeans to the side when Izuku hands him a heavy shirt. While he was undressing down to his boxers, Izuku went to grab one of the standing mirrors.

The shirt is black, with strips of dark purple down the sides, fitting close to his body.

“The shirt is made of slash, fire, and water resistant fabric, all of it is, and it’s double layered. In between layers are thin metal plates over vital areas, disconnected for ease of movement.” Izuku says. “On the collar bones you’ll notice two buttons. They’re temperature regulators, one for heating, one for cooling. They coincide with Shouto’s original quirk, so to heat your body up, press the left, to cool it down press the right. It happens in thirty minute intervals, and the battery only needs to recharge once every two or three days, longer if it stays unused.”

Hitoshi grabs the pants as Izuku hands them to him, slipping them on.

“The pants, like the shirt is made of the same resistant material, this time triple layered with two seperate layers of the metal sheets on your thighs and calves.” Izuku hands him two white boxes. “Those are both full of emergency medical supplies, and the boxes themselves are reinforced steel. They can be used as a blunt force weapon if need be. They go in the two pockets on your outer thighs.”

Nodding to show he’s still listening, Hitoshi opens one of the boxes to see heavy duty medical supplies before closing it and slipping them in the right pockets. The pockets are secured by a buckle, which he tightens to avoid rattling the supplies around as he moves. Down the outer line of his pants is another set of purple stripes, which help make him look taller.

Apparently Mei and Izuku went with a theme.

“With the pants, goes the holster belt and suspender straps to make sure the pants don’t slip down.” Izuku says, handing him both items which he quickly puts on. Hitoshi doesn’t question why the pockets on his calves were glossed over, just deciding to let Izuku do his thing. “The front of the hips on the belt are magnetic dagger holsters. The sides of the hips are for throwing knives, also magnetic. Having the holsters be magnetic eliminates the problem of losing knives while jumping around, and the problem of a complicated strap to hold them in.”

Hitoshi tries to draw one of the daggers, and is suprised by the amount of force he’ll have to use to do so.

“Is it supposed to be that hard to grab?” Hitoshi asks.

“Yes, this way if any villains try to steal a dagger from your belt, they’ll be thrown off by the force required to grab it, allowing you to use their distraction to your advantage.” Izuku explains, holding out a jacket.

He slips it on and zips it up, twisting in the mirror to appreciate it’s sleek look.

It’s black, like the shirt, with two strips of purple down the sides as well. Two more strips of purple run down the length of his arms, over his shoulders and up into the collar. It’s zipper is on his side instead of down his front, and can zip all the way up his neck if he wants. He leaves it loose and open for the moment.

The hood is large and stiff against his back, and when he draws it up, it stays standing, lifted off of his forehead and shadowing his face. The outer seam is purple too, from collar to collar.

“The jackets, like the pants and shirt, are made of resistant fabric, this one triple layered like the pants with the two layers of metal plating.” Izuku explains, looking him up and down with a considerating look. He can feel the metal plates most prominently between his shoulder blades and on his lower back. Damn this outfit is heavy. “It’s also reversible. On the end of the sleeve, you’ll see a hole, that’s where your thumbs go. Grip the holes and slide the jacket off quickly.”

Hitoshi does as commanded, grinning when it comes off in one smooth motion, held off the floor only by his fists. This side is completely purple, a brighter color than the dark purple of the stripes on the other side. He pulls it on again, and this side has the zipper down the middle like a normal jacket.

When he looks in the mirror, it looks like he’s wearing a normal hoodie.

A hoodie with cat ears. Hell yeah!

“I wanted the hoodie side to look normal, and not sketchy, at least for you and me, so hence the cat ears and bright color.” Izuku says, sounding a little bit more smug than he should. “It wasn’t a part of the design Mei made for us, but at least this way we can quickly switch out the jacket to conceal our identities if the heroes get too close. Turn it back around, I’m not done with it.”

Feeling distinctly like a mannequin, he does as ordered and puts the jacket back on with the sleek black side out.

“Right, so, underneath your right arm there’s a small pocket with a zipper. That’s for your primary lockpicking set.” Izuku says, handing him a lockpicking set to put in the pocket it belongs to. “Also, the hand pockets have a heating feature, just press the button and it’ll warm your hands for thirty minutes.”

“Nice.”

“There’s one last part of the jacket, and then we’ll move on. On your shoulders, there’s another set of magnetic holsters. These are upside down, so you just reach across your body to grab a dagger. I suggest you keep these as a last resort.” Izuku says. “And now for the boots.”

Hitoshi takes the pair of socks and boots handed to him, sitting down in front of the mirror to slip them on. The boots are normal combat boots in appearance, but knowing Mei and knowing Izuku, it has some extra goodies hidden by the normal look.

“The boots have modified soles to soften impact and improve jumping power, as well as reinforced steel on the tips for extra power in your kicks.” Izuku continues to explain. “You’ll notice the space between the pants and the boots. Your left foot has a taser holster, the right a gun holster. Guns are loaded with safety on.”

Izuku hands him a sleek black taser and a handgun. Both weapons have purple on the grips.

“Also for the boots, hidden in the soles will be a backup lockpicking set, and a small dagger, left and right accordingly.” Hitoshi lifts his feet to see the barest outline of the dagger and lockpicking set in the center of the soles. “And last but not least for the outfit part, the gloves. Simple fingerless leather gloves, with cushion and steel over the knuckles. The palm has enhanced grip as well.” Izuku says, and Hitoshi slips the gloves on, tightening the buckles, and flexing his hands to test out elasticity.

He takes Izuku’s offered hand and is hauled to his feet.

“For support items-” There’s more? “We have a modified version of the capture scarf. It goes on your arms. Under the jacket.”

Izuku hands him a set of gauntlet looking items, and he slips them on under his jacket sleeves. They’re heavy on his arms. God this whole setup weighs the same amount he does. With a permissive nod from Izuku, he holds an arm out away from them to test it. It takes a moment to get it to work, but when he tilts his wrist down, a black whiplike piece of fabric surges out and wraps around one of the nearby pillars.

He giggles giddily, raising his wrist to retract the fabric, sending him launching to and past the pillar.

When the fabric retreats back into the gauntlet, he stumbles slightly from the backlash of it. Izuku makes his way over to him, carrying the box with him under one arm.

“It works just like the capture scarf, using nanotechnology to respond smoothly to its owner. Each set will carry all three of our DNA, that way we can use each other’s weapons without difficulty.” Izuku says, setting the box back down. “The gauntlet itself is reinforced steel, in case you need to tank a hit. Here, this one is next.”

Izuku hands him a pair of goggles, which he slips over his head, leaving the hair trapped underneath the strap to keep it out of his face. Purple, because of course, gotta keep on theme. “The goggles have night vision, heat vision, and for Shouta, a mist spray. Resistant to damage, and the lenses are bulletproof glass, so they aren’t likely to shatter easily. And finally, these.”

Izuku hands him a mask that looks a lot like his Persona Cords.

God, he hasn’t used Persona Cords in years, since it was damaged and lost in a battle, and at that point, Momo didn’t have enough lipids to spare for a whole new set. Slipping on the mask is like coming home. Even if, in the beginning when he first got them, they felt like another muzzle, something to silence him, his Persona Cords had saved his life on multiple occasions before they were lost to him.

“These are an updated version of your old Persona Cords. Like the original version, these will mimic voices for you, but they also serve as comm links. They’ll only connect to paired devices, even with something that’ll block electrical signals. Each set is designed with the person in mind though.” Izuku explains. Hitoshi fiddles with the settings a moment, and when he speaks, Izuku’s voice comes out instead of his own.

“What will your mask do?”

“All of our masks will silence us to outsiders, but mine will be connected to a backup drive. It’ll be designed to record whatever analysis I mumble for later use. Shouta’s won’t have a specific feature, but his goggles will.” Izuku goes on to say. “All of our masks will filter out any toxic gasses, silence us to outsiders, and have GPS locators built in. When you reverse the jacket, to hide the mask, all you have to do is turn it around. It should be easily hidden in the folds of the hoodie whether your hood is raised or not.”

“This is all wonderfully made Izuku.” Hitoshi praises, moving back to the mirror to see the whole effect. Izuku trails after him with a pleased hum.

With the mask and goggles on, hood raised, and black fabric hanging lazily to the floor, he looks like a badass. He never wants to take this outfit off. It makes him feel powerful, invincible. Like maybe this endeavor to save the world won’t be so hard after all.

“You look amazing Toshi.” Izuku says.

“All thanks to you and Mei. Think I could go out tonight and get a real feel for the suit in action?” Hitoshi asks, hope and excitement leaking into his voice, which still sounds like Izuku. Izuku purses his lips.

“Maybe you should practice with the gauntlets first. The fabric is heavier than the normal capture scarf, so you can use it like Midnight’s whip, and it’s different being yanked around by the arms rather than the body.” Izuku says. Hitoshi deflates slightly. “Two hours. If you can get the hang of it within two hours, you can go out tonight, and when you get back you can let me know if anything needs adjustments.”

“I only need one.” Hitoshi says, determination flooding his veins as he makes his way to the aerial silks.

“I’ll be at the workstation finishing up my own outfit, come get me before you go so I can be sure you’re ready.” Izuku hollars at him, already heading downstairs. Hitoshi waves his hand dismissively in response, sending out the gauntlet whips to get himself off the ground.

He’s gonna master this in no time, and then it’s time to hit the streets at last!

Chapter Text

Shouta doesn’t get paid enough for this.

He’s been assigned to the case of two new vigilantes, partners, who showed up two and three months ago. They’re slippery, skilled in ways Shouta can’t comprehend. Fast enough they could both have minor speed enhancement quirks. Smart enough to have intelligence quirks. Skilled enough to be actual heroes.

The first one, the one with purple accents on his suit, goes by Silence. Fitting, given he’s never heard the vigilante speak in his own voice. Silence’s voice always mimics Shouta’s own, or Tsukauchi, or Hizashi, or Nezu, or random people. Never the same voice twice in one conversation. Then again, for someone calling themselves Silence, he’s pretty chatty.

He’s sarcastic, antagonizing, and he likes to rile Shouta up.

For an entire month, Shouta had worked on building a rapport with this vigilante, trying to get information on the sly. But Silence is clever. He gives Shouta vague answers, which answer his question but never gives anything away. Has the height and build of a child, but acts like a mature, seasoned Pro.

His fights are always over quickly, using whips, or something like them, to take out enemies by using them against each other. He likes to taunt his victims, asking inane questions to confuse and disorient and piss them off. Things like ‘nice weather we’re having don’t you think?’ or ‘did you know that ice is a rock?’ or ‘think your mother will appreciate flowers?’. Silence is the one that likes to stick around and talk to Shouta for a minute before disappearing.

Then there’s the other one, Secret.

Secret came along about a month after Silence, and at first Shouta didn’t think there was a correlation between the two, given they patrol separately. But then Shouta and Silence had been outnumbered and were losing a fight against an entire gang of criminals. Silence, using Shouta’s voice, which never fails to irritate him, simply said ‘backup’ and bam. There was Secret, crashing into two criminals not a few minutes later.

Secret is, well, secretive.

He’s only gotten a response out of Secret twice, and one of those was asking for his name. The other one was asking if Silence was his partner. Other than that, nothing. He doesn’t speak during a fight, doesn’t speak after a fight. Doesn’t like to stick around for very long, and won’t let Shouta close often enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

Getting close to Secret is like coaxing a stray cat close enough to give them food.

Getting close to Silence is like trying to keep a stray cat from following you home.

It’s frustrating, knowing he’s been working their case for almost three months with no progress. Estimated age range is about sixteen to twenty five. They’re skilled enough that they could have been taught at a hero school but never made the cut when the cards were down. Estimated biological gender are male for both, but it’s hard to really nail it down for sure. He has no answer for any appearance based questions. No eye or hair color, and it’s hard to see skin color in the dark unless it’s bright and eye-catching.

They don’t travel outside of their zones often, but it’s not unheard of for them both to be spotted somewhere else. They won’t take any peace offerings. Shouta once brought them both snacks, because they work sundown to sunup, but they refused to even touch it. He once brought a few extra water bottles for them, but nothing. Silence once started to doze off on one of the rare times the two of them took a break and let him close enough to take a break with them, and then immediately snapped awake the moment Shouta tried to reach out and wake him up.

They reject his touch, Secret won’t even look at him half the time, let alone speak to him, and Silence only speaks to him to piss him off.

It’s infuriating. He’s getting nowhere with these brats because they won’t let him close enough to do so. Is it so bad that Shouta wants to help them, steer them towards getting actual licenses? Silence, the chatty one, shut him down hard when Shouta brought it up once. Hard as in, shut Shouta up with a few sharp words and then take off with Secret before Shouta could even think about trying to follow them.

They plague his mind day and night.

Sometimes he wonders if they’re sleeping at all. Sometimes he wonders if tonight will be the night he loses one of them. Even Hizashi is starting to worry about them, because Shouta talks about them enough it feels like Hizashi is in Shouta’s shoes. He worries if they’re eating enough, resting their bodies, and healing after getting injured.

Maybe he’s getting too close to this case?

“Eraser! Bout time, and here I thought you had a hot date.” Silence chirps from below, Shouta having barely noticed his presence in the alley below him. He wastes no time in jumping down into the alley, expecting a fight, but getting none. The alleyway is empty except for Silence and Secret, who seemed to have been waiting for him. The thought of them waiting for him makes his shoulders tense. They wouldn’t ambush him would they?

“Eraserhead.” Secret says, and it makes Shouta tense even further. Something must be going on if Secret is speaking to him.

“Is everything alright?” Shouta asks cautiously. He wants to give these two the benefit of the doubt and not suspect they’re fixing to attack him in a secluded alleyway, where they block the entrance to the street. The alley is small enough that getting back to the roofs will be a little more difficult to manage than usual. If a fight breaks out between them, Shouta is outnumbered, and outclassed.

These two could take him apart in mere minutes with their skill and efficiency.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong, Eraser. Just wanted to chat!” Silence says, copying Shouta’s voice in that eerie way of his.

“Chat.” Shouta says blandly, resisting the urge to grab his scarf and lower his goggles.

“Yup, walk with us, won’t you?” Silence says. There’s an edge of a threat in his voice, he knows because that’s how Shouta sounds when he’s threatening someone subtly. Shouta swallows down the dread the notion fills him with.

“Sure.” Maybe he should go ahead and press his panic button now while he has the chance?

No, what is he thinking? There’s just two of them, Shouta’s fought more than that with his eyes closed, literally.

The two step off the walls of the alley they were leaning on and slip out onto the streets, heading up to the rooftops. Shouta follows, though he wishes he didn’t, considering a fight on the rooftops is worse than a fight in a crowded alley. If they get the drop on him on a roof, especially a high one, they could throw him off it.

He suddenly wishes he had woken Hizashi up for a kiss before he left.

They lead him onto a- thankfully- short building, where they lean against a railing and give him the center of the roof. It makes some of the rising panic in his throat fade. This means they aren’t here for a fight.

Right?

It’s silent between the three of them for a minute, which usually means Shouta will have to speak first. “So-”

“Your birthday is coming up soon.” Secret says, not like it’s a question but a fact. How did they-? No, better not to question Secret. It’ll make him shut down and refuse to speak again. And if Secret is leading the conversation, it means that if Secret shuts down, so will Silence.

“That is correct.” Shouta responds. Why do they want to talk about his birthday of all things?

“You’re planning on patrolling the night before your birthday.” Again, Secret doesn’t phrase it as a question but a fact. They have his patrolling schedule?

“Again, that is correct.” Shouta says, keeping his voice level and face emotionless.

“Don’t.” Silence speaks up. Shouta hesitates before responding. They don’t want him to patrol the night before his birthday? Why? What are they planning to do?

“Why?” Shouta asks.

“Wouldn’t want you to wake up falling between buildings.” Secret says, and Silence snorts, the sounds briefly making the voice modulator fritz. So it was the mask all along, but what for?

Also, are they threatening him?

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It means what it means. Don’t patrol the night before your birthday. Mark my words, you very well might regret it.” Secret continues, and Shouta just now realized that there isn’t a voice modulator like Silence has. At least, he doesn’t think so? The voice sounds young, but he knows better than to take anything at face value with these two.

“You can’t make me not patrol, I’m a hero. It’s my job.” Shouta says. Even so, he’s starting to think it’ll be good to stay home that night. If Secret is the one telling him to do this, doesn’t that make it important? Secret’s not exactly talkative. Not to him at least. He does sometimes hear Silence respond to something no one asked, so maybe only Silence can hear him? Maybe it’s something Secret decides himself? A telepathic quirk maybe?

“Well then, hero, let’s put it this way. Stay home with Hizashi or else.” Secret says, and it makes Shouta jerk in place. He never even told these two he was married, let alone to who. Just how much does Secret know about him?

“How do you-”

“I know a lot of things, Eraser.” Secret cuts him off, raising a hand as if to examine his nails but Shouta doesn’t feel the eyes that are so sharp beneath those goggles leave him. “I know you teach as a homeroom teacher to Class 1-A at UA. I know you like cats. I know you pretend to prefer to drink your coffee black in front of people, but you actually really like the extremely sugary iced coffees more. Or that you are the first and only UA student to have transferred to Heroics from Gen Ed.”

Shouta feels himself go cold as Secret keeps going, telling Shouta things about himself he hasn’t told these two.

“I know you lost a friend before you ever even graduated, the only Heroics student to have died on a work study. I know your favorite color is yellow, like Hizashi’s hair.” Oh god, what is happening? “I know you sleep in pink pajama pants because it was the last gift Shirakumo ever gave you. And above all, I know you need to stay home the night before your birthday. Do we have an understanding here?”

Shouta nods slowly, thoroughly intimidated. Secret knows too many things about him for Shouta to just refuse, especially when he can hear the threat in Secret’s words. He knows Oboro’s name, he knows Shouta’s preferred coffee, he knows about Hizashi, about Shouta’s favorite color and why.

Just who the hell are Secret and SIlence?

“Good.” Secret says, sounding satisfied with himself. Shouta tries to swallow down the lump of coal in his throat. “Now go home. Silence and I have it handled tonight.”

Shouta doesn’t even hesitate to listen this time.

On his way back to his apartment, the first number he calls is Hizashi. Hizashi picks up the phone on the fourth ring, voice slurred from sleep. It makes the knot in his chest loosen a little. “Sho?”

“I’m on my way home.” Shouta says, short and sharp, and doesn’t give his husband a chance to respond before hanging up and calling Tsukauchi.

“Detective Tsuka-” Tsukauchi starts to say in a lazy drawl.

“Meet me at my apartment pronto. It’s an emergency.”

“Eraser? Is everything-”

“Just do it.” Shouta hangs up the phone and picks up the pace. He needs to see Hizashi, needs to confirm with his own eyes that he’s okay. Even though his breathing is shallow, even though his chest is tightening in the signs of a panic attack, he moves over the rooftops faster than the wind.

What the hell has he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

“Did you have to freak him out so much?” Hitoshi asks, and Izuku doesn’t even look back at him as they fly across the rooftops. Hitoshi barely refrains from rolling his eyes. He knows better than to get distracted while roof hopping.

“It’s not like I had any other choice. You know how Shouta is, had to make sure that he would listen to my demands.” Izuku responds through the comm link.

“Still. You didn’t have to send him halfway into a panic attack.” Hitoshi grumbles.

“Better a panic attack in the safety of his home than being disoriented mid jump between buildings. I’d rather freak him out than risk him waking up falling through the air to his death.” Izuku responds. Hitoshi has to admit, it’s a logical fear. At their ages, neither of them had to wake up from the Jump while their past self was already awake, let alone patrolling.

Only a week away.

In one week, Dad will be back with them, and then they can really get down to business. Hitoshi and Izuku have already started chipping away at the outer edges of All For One’s empire, but they’ve kept it sporadic enough so as not to raise too much suspicion. This way it seems as if they’re just pesky little vigilantes nipping at All For One’s heels without knowing that they could be crushed at any moment.

All For One is the type to not dirty his hands with what he deems insects in his web.

Besides, according to Izuku, All Might’s big clash with All For One happened when they were about ten, so it’s likely that All For One is still recovering. Two years can be a long time, but not long enough to heal the type of injuries All Might gave him. Ideally, now would be the time to strike, while All For One is still weak and recovering.

Problem with that is they don’t have the manpower for a full frontal assault.

Even with Dad, it still won’t be an easy fight. They need to creep up from behind. Keep their movements relatively quiet, keep AFO from seeing their intentions. Slowly whittle away at AFO’s forces, then strike when the iron is hot. Tipping their hand too early will just lead to death.

And given that Izuku doesn’t have One For All, it’ll be that much harder to manage.

Hitoshi suddenly feels homesick. Not for the destroyed future where all his friends and family were dead or dying, but for the home he barely got to have before it was ripped away. With Pops in the kitchen, dancing to a song in his head as he makes breakfast. Where Eri manages without fail to sneak into Hitoshi’s room at night without waking him up. Where Dad never forgets to show Hitoshi affection, even though Eri needs ten times more attention than he does. Mirio dropping by on the weekends to take Eri and Hitoshi to the movies, the park, wherever. Izuku and the rest of 1-A in the dorms having movie nights, and cuddle sessions, and study groups, and always making sure Hitoshi feels included and accepted.

He misses home.

“Toshi.” Izuku says through the comms. “Go check on them, I’ve got it handled tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Hitoshi asks, but he’s already tensing midair to make a U-turn and head to Dad and Pops’ apartment. It’s a bad habit, checking in on them when they don’t know he’s there. He doesn’t do it often. Sometimes he just needs to see them, alive and happy. He does it with the others too, and so does Izuku, but Hitoshi isn’t supposed to know that.

“Go.”

Without wasting time, Hitoshi twists his body, shoots out a gauntlet and heads in the direction Dad took off to.

He lands in the tree not much later, the one just outside their apartment building. Climbing the branches to get to the right apartment, Hitoshi settles into the leaves and just watches. Dad is sitting on the couch with a mug of what Hitoshi assumes is coffee, Pops hovering beside him with a look of worry. Tsukauchi is there too, a serious frown on his face.

Adjusting his mask, he listens in to the conversation in silence.

It’s a new feature, allowing them to amp up the auditory intake to hear things they usually wouldn’t be able to. Settling further into the canopy, Hitoshi just watches and listens.

“Are you sure?” Tsukauchi says, frowning down at his notepad. Hitoshi can’t see it from here, but he assumes Dad told him about his meeting with Silence and Secret.

“I’m sure. They knew too much about me. Secret made it very clear that he could have kept listing more things about me if he wanted.” Dad says, and even Hitoshi can see him give a full body shiver. “It’s the most Secret ever said to me at once.”

“But how did they know so much about you?” Pops asks, and he’s picking at his lip in the way he does when he’s nervous. Izuku does it too.

“I’ve no idea. Neither of them let me get very close where I could share all of those things with them. They’re skittish and paranoid, and frankly, I don’t think Secret likes me very much.” Dad says. “I can’t explain it, but they scared me. I’ve never been so intimidated in my life.”

“Did they show any signs of aggression?” Tsukauchi asks.

“No, at least not through body language. Their words were enough.” Dad says.

“Was there anything in particular you could have done to make Secret so interested in you?”

“Not that I can think of. Silence likes to irritate me, but Secret barely even looks at me half the time.”

Hitoshi leans forward to try and listen closer, not that it would help much, but the movement he does startles the sleeping birds into taking off violently. All three heads snap in his direction, and Hitoshi sees the exact moment Dad notices his position. He bites back a wince. If he runs, that’ll solidify to Dad that he’s a threat.

Deciding to wing it, he stands up on the tree branch and walks down with ease.

Hopping down on the balcony of their apartment, he straightens to see Dad and Pops both in a fighting stance. Tsukauchi has his phone out, probably calling for backup. Not about to let this get any worse, Hitoshi taps a nice little device secured in one of his calf pockets. It blocks electronic signals, something Izuku made while bored one night.

Tsukauchi exclaims in shock and Hitoshi reaches out to slide the balcony door open.

He doesn’t step inside, just leans against the frame.

“Silence.” Dad breathes out, voice shaky. This probably looks bad.

“Eraser, Mic, Detective. Fancy seeing you here.” Hitoshi says, deciding to keep mimicking Dad’s voice for the time being. He’d rather not make any sudden movements that’ll make them spring into action and attack him.

“What are you doing here?” Dad demands, shakiness fading as he crouches into a lower stance, one hand on his capture scarf.

“Can’t I just come to say hello?” No one answers him, and he bites back a sigh. Man he fucked up tonight. “Alright, alright. I came to apologize.” He didn’t but that’s his story and he’s sticking to it, despite the way Tsukauchi’s eye twitches at the lie. Ah, he forgot.

“No you aren’t. Tell the truth.”

Hitoshi steps off the frame and spreads his hands out placatingly. “You’re right, but since I’m here anyways.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Pops asks.

“My partner can be a bit intense, that’s all. Just so you don’t freak out, neither of us want you hurt.”

“True.” Tsukauchi says. “Then why did you tell Eraser not to patrol the night before his birthday?”

Hitoshi tilts his head. “Because it would be wise if he didn’t. For his own safety of course.”

“Why? What are you planning?” Oh, Dad is a lot more confident asking questions now. Maybe because it’s just him, and no Secret?

“I’m not planning anything.” Which is true, he’s not.

“Then what is Secret planning?” Tsukauchi asks. He always knew how to manipulate a conversation.

“That’s a Secret.” Hitoshi says, giggling a little. “Get it? Secret? I thought that was cute.”

“What were you doing outside my apartment?” Dad asks, looking unfazed. Damn, one of these days, probably after Dad Jumps, he’ll get him to smile.

“I was enjoying the scenery.”

“Silence, I might need backup.” Izuku says through the comms suddenly.

“Ah, be right there, just let me wrap this up.”

“Who are you talking to?” Pops asks.

“It’s Secret, they have a comm link.” Dad responds. Hitoshi is barely paying attention.

“Wrap what up? What did you do?”

“Might have been spotted and am now confronting Eraser, Mic, and Tsukauchi. Might not have. Who can really say.”

There’s silence both in the apartment and on the comms for a moment. And then, “I’m on my way.”

“No need, head back, I’ll meet you there shortly.”

“Toshi-”

“I’ll be fine.” Hitoshi drawls, still eyeing the three in front of him who are still watching him in silence. “They won’t hurt me, because they won’t get the chance. I’ve got this handled.”

“Fine. Be careful.”

“Always am.” Hitoshi responds brightly, and he hears a snort on the other end before the comm is disconnected. Hitoshi slowly takes a step backwards. “Now then. This has been fun, but that’s my cue to leave.”

“Oh no you don’t-” Dad growls, snapping out a length of his scarf. Hitoshi reacts quickly, sending out a gauntlet strip to tangle the scarf with and yanks hard. It makes Dad stumble. Reaching into his right calf pocket, he grabs a dummy grenade and tosses it.

“Here, catch.” Dad scrambles to catch the fake explosive before it hits the ground, and when he does that, Hitoshi makes his escape. He’s flying across rooftops before anyone has the chance to follow, and with the auditory intake still high, he hears Dad yell out a very heartfelt fuck. Hitoshi lowers the auditory sensors back to normal as he heads back to base.

Izuku is going to be pissed.

Chapter Text

Shouta wakes up sitting in a chair in a police precinct.

He’s alone, so he doesn’t even bother trying to hide his groan of suffering as a headache blooms in his forehead and his stomach twists itself into knots. He leg aches where what should have been a stump rests, so he knows the Jump was at least somewhat successful. Even so, the side effects are no joke.

Groaning, he blinks his eyes open slowly, and then shuts them right after when the double vision makes his stomach hurt worse.

He doesn’t have time for this, he needs to find his kids. As if on cue, his phone dings and he digs it out of his pocket, blinking at the brightness. Unlocking it is easy, he used to only put in the date the Oboro supposedly died as his lock code. Opening up his email, he sees a message from an unknown address.

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]

1217131SC

Shouta responds accordingly, still unsure what the hell those numbers even mean. Also, he’d bet good money it was Hitoshi who made the email address a challenge to the smartest rat in Japan, because Izuku is too polite to be so bold. In response to his confirmation email, he gets a simple address that he knows is a cafe he used to frequent. Will frequent? That was where he and Hizashi offered to adopt Hitoshi. So at least he knows which brat is emailing him, though whether both kids made it back safely is a question left unanswered. He checks the date, just to be sure, and sighs in relief when it shows he’s in the correct year.

Shouta gathers his capture scarf and goggles, still unsure why he’s sleeping at the precinct and not in his own bed, and heads out the door. It’s odd, having both feet and eyes. Being able to properly discern depth and not walk with a limp is a luxury he will never take for granted again. Naomasa comes across him before he can get away quietly. It’s hard to shut down the choking tears before they fall at seeing an old friend alive and kicking.

Years of compartmentalizing is the only reason he can look Naomasa in the eye without breaking down.

“Eraser, where are you going?” Nao says, sounding oddly alarmed. Immediately, Shouta knows this is the kids' fault. Whatever they did to freak out Naomasa so easily couldn’t have been good. God, why does he have to deal with this?

“I’m going out.”

“You can’t.” Naomasa says, sounding almost desperate. Shouta’s eyes narrow.

“And why the hell not?”

“The vigilantes threatened you. I know you hate being told what to do, but I can’t let you leave this precinct. It’s for your safety.” Naomasa says, crossing his arms. He looks more frazzled than usual, and that’s saying something to Shouta who watched this man spiral downwards after Toshinori was killed when UA fell.

Vigilantes? Birthday? Safety?

This is Hitoshi’s fault, he knows it. It’s always Hitoshi’s fault, Shouta will die on this hill.

Sighing through his nose, he puts on his most defiant look and stares Naomasa down. “I’m not going to roll over because a couple vigilantes told me to. I’m going out, and you can’t stop me.”

“Shouta please don’t-”

Shouta ignores him and marches quickly out of the precinct, shoving him to the side to slow him down so Shouta can get away faster. He races through the bullpen quickly, the other officers barely batting an eye as they move aside. Shouta has long conditioned all the precincts and officers he interacts with to get the hell out of his way when he’s moving with purpose. He gets out of the doors just as Naomasa reaches the bullpen and a round of shouts follow him as he leaves, taking to the rooftops quickly with Naomasa hollering behind him. God dammit, what did his brats do? He’s gonna wring their necks for making this so hard for him. He was supposed to disappear quietly.

This is not quiet.

Shouta lands on a rooftop and stumbles, nearly falling flat on his face. He’s used to having to rely on his only remaining foot, he’s not used to having two feet to work with anymore. Stupid fucking apocolypse, stupid fucking Nomu. Shouta grits his teeth and flies across the rooftops as well as he can manage, stumbling as he lands harshly at the address of the cafe. Or the address of where the cafe will be, given this is only an abandoned building at the moment.

Eyeing the security cameras nearby, he slips inside and avoids as many as possible.

Nezu will track his movements after he disappears, so he might as well make it harder on the rat. He automatically heads to the second floor, knowing his kids won’t stay on ground level. They’ve gotten used to staying in the center floors when in a building, so they can’t be blindsided by flying Nomu, but they also won’t be completely crushed should the building collapse.

Shouta spots his kids easily when he enters the second room on the second floor.

They’re wearing well designed black suits, probably Mei’s design for their battle gear. Hitoshi lights up when he sees Shouta, mask dangling on his neck and goggles pushed into his hair. “Dad!”

“Hey brats.” Shouta says fondly, holding the boys close as they go in for a hug. They let him go soon after, and Shouta crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Either of you want to explain why I woke up in a police precinct, and why Naomasa was refusing to let me leave?”

Izuku immediately pins Hitoshi with a glare. “Ask your son.”

Hitoshi rubs his neck sheepishly and doesn’t answer. Shouta rubs a hand down his face in exasperation. He knew it. Of course this is Hitoshi’s fault. “Nevermind, do you guys have a base yet?”

Izuku immediately lights up with a smile, free and happy in a way he hasn’t seen since Katsuki. “Yeah, and Hitoshi let me decorate it however I wanted!”

Let. As if Hitoshi is the boss here. Shouta and Hitoshi share a look of amusement at Izuku’s naivete. “Then let’s go. You can tell me everything you’ve been up to without me when we get there.”

And boy what a story it is.

Apparently, they threatened his younger self to keep him from patrolling tonight. Then Hitoshi got caught spying outside of his apartment which turned into a whole ordeal, and in response, Naomasa forbade him from leaving the precinct until after his birthday had passed. Which is why, when Shouta tried to leave, Naomasa refused to let him. Not that it did much to stop him.

Looking from an outsider’s perspective, he can see how this will look to Nezu and Naomasa.

Two vigilantes which Shouta had been trying to get close to for three months suddenly warn him not to go out on his birthday, but he does it anyway, and then suddenly he disappears? They’ll likely think the two vigilantes knew something would happen, either through a quirk like Foresight, or from whispers through the underground, and tried to warn him to stay home. So when Shouta doesn’t listen, and he disappears, it’ll look less like they were trying to threaten him and more like they were trying to keep him safe from what would happen tonight.

“On the bright side, this will play into our favor. I wasn’t sure how I was going to just disappear with no warning or reasoning, so this kind of set it up for me.” Shouta says when they’re done with their story.

“I agree, I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Izuku says, sounding much more like the war veteran Shouta remembers him being.

“It’s okay, at least this way we can get our job done more easily, and we won’t have to pretend to be someone we aren’t anymore.” Shouta says, feeling like he’s said this a hundred times. Deciding to change the subject, Shouta stands up from the bed he was sitting on. It’s the only part of the base he’s seen except for a quick glance around when he came in. “Why don’t you show me around the base, yeah?”

Izuku perks up, and immediately starts running his mouth.

Shouta dutifully follows behind him to every station as Izuku explains what it is, what they got to put it together, and reasoning behind it. Hitoshi walks beside him, hands tucked into the jacket of the vigilante suit he’s still wearing. Quietly, he leans down to speak to Hitoshi without grabbing Izuku’s attention.

“You did good, kid. Thanks for making him as happy as possible until I returned.” Shouta says. Hitoshi smiles softly, ducking his head even though there’s no capture scarf to hide the tiny pleased smile.

“Anything for you Dad.” Hitoshi responds. The day before they met with Kazu to perform the Jump, Shouta had pulled Hitoshi and Neito aside. He asked them to watch over Izuku, and over each other. They all knew it would be harder for Izuku without Shouta there to be his rock, so they agreed readily. Izuku may be the best of them all, but no man is a mountain, and Izuku had only ever let Shouta see his cracks. He’s so glad Hitoshi and Izuku had each other to lean on. “But it’s your problem if he wants to bring up stealing motorcycles again.”

Shouta stumbles slightly mid step.

“Do what?” Shouta asks incredulously, but Hitoshi never answers, instead speeding up to walk by Izuku who is still rambling excitedly about everything in the base, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

Cheeky brat.

He’s got to admit though, they did a hell of a job with their new base. Lit up by a canopy of fairy lights and the bright lights that came with the garage. Relatively large spaces separated out to make ‘rooms’ for them to sleep in. Somehow Izuku reconfigured the piping in the bathroom to create a makeshift shower. They even have access to the second floor underground, which Izuku has claimed as his workstation.

A makeshift kitchen, a lounge area, even a huge sparring circle in the center of the room.

Shouta gets the feeling that Izuku tried to make this crappy underground parking garage into something of his dream agency. He used to talk to him about it all the time. Used to dream about his entire class running the agency together, as one large group. How everyone would group off to run different aspects of the agency.

Like Hitoshi, Toru, and a few others going underground would run the underground aspects such as undercover missions, gang busts, things of that nature. And how Katsuki, Izuku and Shouto would be the faces of the agency. How Ochako would be head over rescue, and Tsu would be head over water based ops.

Talking about his dream agency used to be a coping mechanism for the deaths of his classmates.

Shouta can’t for the life of him remember the last time Izuku talked about that old dream of his. Poor kid has suffered so much pain, so much loss, and yet he was still going strong. Never giving up the good fight. Never backing down. This time, Shouta will protect his kids. This time, he won’t lose them so brutally.

Hitoshi said something to Izuku in the midst of his rambling that made the two of them start wrestling on the floor like they’re five.

Sighing in defeat, despite the slight smile on his face, Shouta goes to break them up. He won’t say it out loud, but seeing Izuku act like a child again helps mend some of the cracks in his heart.

Chapter Text

Nezu isn’t the type to get angry easily, but right now he’s infuriated.

Someone stole from him, took away one of his favorite humans. They took something that is his, someone he calls precious. Shouta is one of the few of his staff that aren’t remotely terrified of him. Shouta understands him in ways no human has ever understood him before. They aren’t nearly on the same level intellectually, but Shouta is, in a way, one of the only things keeping him from going off the deep end.

And someone took him.

Right out from under Nezu’s nose, like it was easy. Shouta is an incredibly stubborn man, Nezu isn’t surprised that he got anxious from being forced to stay either in UA’s walls or a precinct. He’s the type of human that doesn’t let anyone command him, who does his own thing, and doesn’t work well with authority. Being told what to do is one of Shouta’s biggest pet peeves, Nezu understands. It’s one of the reasons he let the man get away with so many expulsions every year. But someone stole him. Took away something precious, something good in Nezu’s life, and what’s worse?

They left no evidence for Nezu to track them down and rain down the fires of hell.

The only thing Nezu has to go off of, is a single email address and message. The address itself is an immature kind of challenge to Nezu, but the message is what's important. It’s short and cryptic, a sequence of numbers and letters that Nezu can’t determine the meaning of. 1217131SC. Not an address. Not coordinates. Not a zip code or phone number. It isn’t decipherable by any code breaking technique Nezu knows-and he knows them all. No one’s birth, death, or anniversary date that Shouta would know. By all means, it looks like a random string of numbers and letters.

But it means something, to Shouta at least.

Followed by the same sequence of numbers sent to the email from Shouta, is an address. An abandoned building, one that has no significance to Shouta that Nezu or Yamada can think of. The dust in the second floor is disturbed in one of the rooms, showing evidence of at least three people, but possibly more. No fingerprints or DNA left behind. No evidence that who was there left or entered the room naturally.

Did they use the window or was it a warp quirk?

There’s no signs of a struggle, so either Shouta went willingly or he was taken out before he had the chance to fight. Did Shouta know these people? Is that why there’s no struggle marks on the floor? It’s no secret that of all the heroes in the area, Shouta has the most extensive underground network of informants and spies. Could it be a contact he’s made in the past?

Then there’s the reason Shouta was grounded to UA or a police precinct.

Two vigilantes, part of a case Shouta had been working on. According to Tsukauchi, Shouta wasn’t making very much progress in the case. The vigilantes, Silence and Secret, were accepting of his help when taking down criminals and villains, but any further and they would back away. Shouta’s analysis of the two vigilantes was threadbare, which is unusual for someone with such a high rehabilitation rate as Shouta had.

Silence, despite his name, is chatty and antagonizing.

He finds joy in pissing off his enemies and Shouta alike. A master manipulator of words, intelligent, but not quite up to Nezu’s standards. Possible minor intelligence quirk. He’s fast, skilled, and clearly trained in some way or another. Possible speed quirk, possible voice mimicry quirk. Shouta had noted down the possibility that he was a hero school dropout, but he was unsure.

Secret, the partner to Silence, is almost completely a mystery.

Not one to interact verbally, keeping his distance, staying silent ninety-nine percent of the time. He’s closed off, wary, and judging by what Shouta told Tsukauchi of their last encounter, very likely the leader of the two. Silence defers to Secret when Secret decides to speak up. Fast, skilled, trained. Possible intelligence or speed quirk. Like Silence, Shouta noted the possibility of a hero school dropout. But Secret is also incredibly intelligent, more so than Silence. Genius levels, if Shouta was correct in his assumptions.

And Shouta is very rarely wrong when it comes to potential.

Silence was the first to hit the scene, but Secret runs the show. Silence likes to talk, but will go silent if Secret starts the conversation. Secret only ever has meaningful things to say, whereas Silence talks just to talk and annoy Shouta.

According to Shouta’s personal notes, he was playing with the idea to bring Nezu in on the case.

Shouta is Nezu’s favorite human, and he will very easily burn the world down if Shouta simply says the word. However, that doesn’t mean he asks for Nezu’s help on cases. It is a dire situation if Shouta wants his help and asks for it willingly. The implications of this does not make Nezu feel any less uncomfortable.

Those two knew something would happen the night before Shouta’s birthday, and warned him.

That’s the important part. They knew something would happen. Went out of their ways to threaten Shouta to stay home. Silence even followed Shouta home that night. Tsukauchi never got his answer for why the vigilante was truly there, but Nezu has an idea. Silence was there to make sure Shouta got home safe. It had to be, why else would Silence show up outside the apartment the way he did?

He doesn’t know, and it’s killing him.

Surely he’s overlooked something somewhere. Surely there’s some sort of clue, some sort of pattern that he’s missing. Surely, Nezu, the smartest being in Japan, can figure out who took his human.

There’s a knock on his office door, and Nezu startles, realizing he missed seeing someone walking close to his office to open the door preemptively. Not one to delay, Nezu opens the door for his guest, watching as Kayama walks in. She looks as immaculate as ever, but Nezu sees the weariness in her posture, the bags hidden underneath a layer of makeup. He can see that her smile is fake, a little less seductive than she usually uses.

“Kayama, please come in. Would you like some tea?” Nezu says, trying to retain his usual cheer to put her more at ease. It doesn’t work, and her shoulders slump just that miniscule amount more.

“No thank you. I came to check up on you.” Kayama says, apparently too tired to put up any pretenses. “You’ve been locked in your office for a week now, it’s not healthy.”

Nezu disagrees. He’s staying hydrated and he eats the food Lunch Rush brings him even when he doesn’t want to. He’s making sure he sleeps at the very minimum amount to be functional. He thinks he’s handling this all very well. All things considered that is.

“Don’t worry about me so much, I’m doing just fine.” Nezu says, and belatedly realized that perhaps his tone was too sharp. After a moment, he also realizes he had let his smile drop.

“Sir, please. This is hard on all of us, and you working yourself into an early grave isn’t helping.” Kayama says, ignoring his words. She cuts him off when he goes to reply, and while usually that would irritate him, it just makes him tired.

He’s so very tired.

“I know you want to find Shouta, we all do, and we will, but we can’t do that when our brightest mind and strongest asset is not at his best.”

“I understand your concern, but the longer Shouta is not found, the higher the statistic of him never being found grows. I cannot stand by and fail him.” Nezu tries to explain. He turns back to his computer to continue working while they speak, so as not to waste any time he could be using to find his human. “Someone took what belongs to me, and I will make them pay. That is a promise.”

“Sir-”

“You’re dismissed Midnight.” Kayama winces at the informal address and the cold tone Nezu uses, but he’s far too busy to deal with silly things as emotions. He has to find his human.

The key must lie with the vigilantes.

They knew something that Nezu didn’t. They knew something bad would happen and tried to keep his human safe. He just has to find a way to track them down and get into contact. It won’t be easy, vigilantes are skittish when it comes to Nezu. He’s too much of a threat to those in between the black and white sides of the law.

But he has to find his human, he has to bring him home.

Nezu is intelligent enough to know his fatal flaws intimately. His possessiveness is one of them, his need to be the smartest in the room, the most powerful, is another. Most of the time, these flaws are a detriment to his work, but right now it’s the only thing keeping him motivated.

Shouta is his human. And he will not rest until his human is back with his lover and friends and students.

Chapter Text

Two weeks after Shouta ‘disappeared’, Izuku is contacted by Principal Nezu.

He’s not surprised, what with how the situation probably looks to an outsider. Nezu probably assumes they had threatened Shouta to keep him safe, only to fail due to Shouta’s notorious stubbornness. How Nezu figured out his hacker persona, Sequence, was connected to Silence and Secret, Izuku doesn’t know, and frankly he doesn’t care.

Nezu had managed to contact Sequence through less than legal channels, not bothering to disguise his identity. If Izuku had to guess, he would say that Nezu kept his identity clear to try and bridge a form of trust between himself and Sequence, and therefore the two vigilantes Sequence is associated with.

Izuku is currently engaging in a back and forth negotiation with Nezu regarding a possible meetup.

Hitoshi is out on patrol, and Shouta is asleep. They don’t want to bring him in until enough time passes that there is no logical reason to assume Soldier- Shouta’s new vigilante name, to represent their pasts as soldiers fighting a losing war- is also Eraserhead. For the most part, Shouta has been retraining himself with the gauntlets, so that he doesn’t make the mistake of accidentally reaching to his neck for his capture scarf.

Nezu is surely pressing hard for an in person meeting right now.

He must be desperate, with the trail having gone cold in the search for Eraserhead, given they haven’t let Shouta out of the base at all for any chances of accidental witnesses. Izuku hates having to put Nezu through this, hates having to put anyone through this, but they only have so much time to stop the end of the world, and they’ve already wasted four and a half months. It’ll be five months before they can really get things done.

Nipping at the edges is fine and all, but time flies faster when you have something to do.

Izuku idly wonders if they should have Jumped further back. Give themselves more time to work. The only thing is, they were already pushing it, having Kazu send three grown ass humans into the past as far back as he did. Kazu was about a decade younger than Izuku himself, he would have just received his quirk when things went downhill, and five year olds can only do so much. By the time Kazu was old enough to do anything, the country had already fallen into ruin. So it’s up to them, three of the last surviving heroes, the last rebels in a losing war.

They can’t afford to lose.

There is no guarantee that Kazu will be able to do this all over again, having not sent himself back. He’ll have no memories of how to use his quirk, no idea who the three of them are. Kazu will, naturally, be distrustful of them. Which means not relying on the possibility of another Jump.

But first, before they can start making real changes, they need to contend with Nezu.

The sooner Izuku gets Nezu to give up his search, or at least not get any further, the sooner they can bring Shouta into the open as the vigilante Soldier. The wait is making Izuku anxious. He doesn’t want to miss out on UA, miss out on rebuilding the relationships of their past. But none of them can go back to UA until All For One is taken out. The sooner the better.

Izuku’s ears twitch with the sound of movement behind him, the sound of unfamiliar familiar footsteps approaching.

“Problem Child, what are you still doing up?” Shouta says, sounding groggy and barely alive. He must have just woken up.

“Expediting Nezu’s fruitless search for you so we can get started for real. The sooner he realizes he has nothing to go on to find you, the better. So I’m setting up a meeting between us.” Izuku responds, also typing out a response to Nezu. Nezu is trying to retain control of the meeting, but Izuku knows better. He won’t allow Nezu to hold any control, because Nezu is too smart. Give him an inch and he’ll steal a mile out from under your nose.

“You think that’s wise?”

“Probably not, at least if we aren’t careful. I’ll have Hitoshi let me do the talking, I know how to play Nezu’s games better than anyone else, and I don’t want Hitoshi unintentionally giving anything away that we want to keep close to the chest.” Izuku explains, typing out another response to Nezu. He’s starting to wear Nezu down, making him give in to having no control over the situation. “Besides, at this point, Nezu is desperate enough to give up control of the meeting to me, or rather Sequence. Two weeks is a long time when it comes to ‘kidnapping’ cases.”

“Just be careful kiddo.” Shouta sighs after a moment of silent consideration. He puts a hand into Izuku’s hair, soothing his fingers through Izuku’s shorn locks. He keeps his hair extremely short now to avoid his wild curls getting out from underneath the hood. Hitoshi just keeps his braided tightly to the back of his head, and likely so will Shouta when the time comes.

Izuku leans into the gentle contact for a moment.

“Of course, when am I ever not careful?” Izuku says, pouting when Shouta snorts like he just made a hilarious joke.

He turns back to the computer, answering Nezu’s message, and finally gaining total control. Now that Nezu has given up his own need for control, Izuku sends the rat a meeting address, telling him to be there in an hour. Getting up from his place at his computer station when Nezu agrees, he makes his way to the displays where they keep their suits. It makes the base feel a lot more like an agency when they have their suits on proud display like this, and he can never thank Shouta and Hitoshi enough for letting him have this small piece of comfort.

Dressing quickly, he makes his way to the kitchenette where Shouta is making a cup of coffee to wake himself up.

Hood and mask lowered and goggles on top of his head, Izuku makes a noise to grab Shouta’s attention. “Shouta, I’ve set the meeting up to be in an hour to give Nezu less time to be prepared. If you want to observe, the camera on my goggles will be activated and you can watch from my computer station. I’ve already pulled up the program for you. It’ll have audio as well.”

Shouta nods. “Thank you. I’ll be ready in my suit in case you need backup, you know the code word.”

“Thanks. Though I doubt we’ll need it, it makes me feel better knowing you’re prepared for a fight.” Izuku says. “I’ll be going now. I’ll contact Hitoshi on the way to have him meet me there.”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, another pat on Izuku’s head, and a bland statement of good luck, Izuku heads out of the base. Tapping his mask to activate the comm link, he connects to Hitoshi.

“Silence, a meeting has been called with Principal Nezu. I don’t know who all he’s bringing, but be prepared for a possible ambush.” Izuku says.

“Understood, send the coordinates. Dad?” Hitoshi asks.

“Watching and listening from home base, and suited up in case of the need for backup. Let me handle the talking.”

“Will do boss.” Hitoshi says, cutting the connection in the middle of Izuku’s grumbles. He hates it when they call him that. They’re equals, not a master and his servants.

Izuku gets to the meeting spot with about a half hour to spare, and he crouches on top of an adjacent building as he waits for everyone else to arrive. The place he chose is a park, the specific location being the center fountain. The space is wide open enough to not allow an easy ambush without Izuku or Hitoshi seeing anyone coming, and also out in the open, where Nezu won’t be able to hide listening devices or trackers.

Ten minutes before the designated meeting time, Hitoshi lands silently on the rooftop beside him. No words are exchanged between them as they keep an eye on their surroundings. A few minutes later and a car pulls up, lights off. Izuku watches for who will exit the car.

Tsukauchi, Hizashi, Nezu and Nemuri all exit the vehicle, with Nezu hitching a ride on Hizashi’s shoulders.

Hitoshi and him exchange a glance, and then they simultaneously shoot out a gauntlet, latching onto a light pole across the street to swing to ground level. Their approach is noticed immediately, given that’s what Izuku chose the park for in the first place, and as Izuku gets closer he can see how much of a wreck the four of them are.

Nemuri’s hair looks a little matted at the ends, like she had started to brush her hair and then never finished the job. Her eyes look weary and tired, and she isn’t wearing her makeup and mask, only her suit. She’s also only wearing a pair of combat boots instead of her ridiculously impractical high heels.

Tsukauchi looks like he hasn’t slept in five days, but that he has gotten plastered for all five of them. His stubble is growing in, like he just didn’t bother shaving, and he’s not even wearing his hat.

Nezu looks more put together than them both, but only by a margin. He too looks sleep deprived and weary. His fur doesn’t look like it’s usual shiny coat, dulled by poor self care. No cheery smile, whether fake or not, is plastered on his snout, and he looks more desperate than manic.

And poor Hizashi.

It’s clear to Izuku just who is suffering the most. Matted hair tied up in a knotty bun with flyaways sticking in the air at an angle that suggests he never fully washed out the hair gel for his usual wild hairstyle. Swollen eyes, red from crying, and bruised from lack of sleep. He’s wearing one of Shouta’s shirts, judging by it’s looseness on his lithe figure, and a familiar pair of pink sweatpants. His shoulders are hunched into the spare capture scarf tied around his neck.

Hitoshi reaches up to his mask and switches to private comms.

“I know we hurt people by disappearing, but it’s one thing to know it and another to see it in person.” Hitoshi says, sounding forlorn. Izuku hums in agreement, and Hitoshi doesn’t cut the line of communication. Likely because, even though he’s staying silent throughout this conversation, he can still speak to Izuku.

Izuku comforts himself with the fact that this is all for their own good.

They’ll suffer for now, but when the three of them return to the world as themselves, they won’t have to worry about their loved ones being in danger. They won’t have to worry about the Nomu-pocalypse. Won’t have to worry about the Commission taking their friends and family and breaking their quirks in order to form better soldiers. When it’s all said and done, they can live their lives peacefully.

It’s all for their sakes.

“Secret, Silence, thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” Nezu greets them as brightly as a grieving rat can. “I’m surprised Sequence didn’t join you.”

Ah, and the fishing for information begins.

“Sequence doesn’t do field work.” Izuku responds calmly. His voice modulator is barely applied, just enough to keep his real voice concealed, but not enough to make it obvious.

“We just have a few questions, off the record.” Tsukauchi says, sounding more put together than he looks. His mask would work better if he didn’t look like an absolute wreck. “When the meeting is over with, we will part ways without trying to apprehend you.”

“Quite courteous of you.” Izuku says. “I assume the information you’re looking for has to do with your missing hero.” As if there was any doubt. Hizashi breathes a quiet but broken breath, and Izuku’s chest hurts knowing how much the man must be suffering right now.

“I hate this. I wish there was another way.” Hitoshi mumbles through the comm. Izuku doesn’t give any indication that Hitoshi said anything, but he silently agrees.

“Right then, straight to the point.” Nezu says. “A week before he went missing, you confronted Eraserhead to warn him. How did you know something would happen the night before his birthday?”

“There was talk between vigilantes about a rumor of Eraserhead going missing that night. We saw fit to try and keep him safe.” Izuku says. None of it is a lie. They are the vigilantes who talked about it, sure, and they also wanted to keep him safe in the moments after the Jump’s success.

“True, but why?” Tsukauchi asks. “You two never seemed to care for Eraser’s presence before, so what changed?”

Izuku and Hitoshi share a look before Izuku answers. “We didn’t care for him trying to arrest us or rehabilitate us, but that doesn’t mean we don’t care about a good hero’s life.”

“Then why, in his personal notes and the interview after your warning, did Eraser think you, specifically, didn’t like him?” Tsukauchi asks. “He said Silence only spoke to him to aggravate him, and you barely spoke to him at all.”

“I didn’t speak to him, because I know he would have gotten too much information out of a few conversations from me.” Izuku explains. Also true. Keeping his mouth shut around the old version of Shouta was torture, but it was better than trying to keep himself from being too familiar with him when he wasn’t Izuku’s Shouta. “And Silence is just Like That.”

Hitoshi punches him in the arm, and Izuku absently rubs the ache it left behind. Damn those gloves are well made.

“Asshole.” Hitoshi grumbles.

“Can you go into more detail on how the vigilante community got word of Eraser’s supposed impending disappearance?” Nezu asks, eyes far more sharp than they were when the conversation started. Izuku carefully words his answer to keep it truthful, but not exposing.

“All I know is what Sequence knows.” Izuku says slowly. “Eraserhead’s life was in danger, and it was going to happen on the night before his birthday. Sequence didn't know what would happen exactly, only that the possibility of Eraser going missing that night was high.”

“All true.” Tsukauchi says, voice cracking. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Why were you really at the apartment that same night, Silence?”

Hitoshi taps his arm to get his attention, tapping his mask as if asking for silent permission to speak while speaking through the comm. “Mind if I answer?”

Izuku nods silently at him.

“I went there to make sure Eraser was okay. We didn’t want to scare him, but Eraser is a stubborn man, he wouldn’t just bow down and do what we said without reason.” Hitoshi says, his mask mimicking that of Nezu’s voice. “I never meant to get caught.”

Izuku clicks his tongue at the reminder in annoyance. Hitoshi quickly silences his mask again, crossing his arms. He’s probably pouting right now, Izuku chewed him out good when he got back to base. “Are there any more questions you would like to ask?”

“Do you have any clue as to Eraserhead’s whereabouts?” Nezu asks, and wow, that’s a tricky answer. Izuku tilts his head side to side as tries to find the right wording. If he lies, they’ll quickly assume that he and Hitoshi know more than they’re letting on, which is no good for the mission.

“I can’t say anything for sure.” Izuku says. “However, we’ll keep on the lookout, and bring him to you when we can, if we can.”

“True.” Tsukauchi says, and Izuku almost lets out an audible sound of relief.

“That could have been bad.” Hitoshi says.

Nezu seems to relax a bit, but his frown is even deeper than before. Guilt rolling in his chest, Izuku tries to help ease some of the pain in the four people’s eyes. “Eraserhead is a good hero, one of the best in the business. He has more friends on his side than you would think, than even he himself might not know of. He’ll come home to you, one way or another.”

“Thank you, Secret.” Nezu says, voice soft. “We appreciate the help.”

Izuku nods, nudging Hitoshi’s side for a retreat now that the conversation is over. Hitoshi nods silently, and sprints back the way they came. Izuku goes to follow but he pauses and turns back to the heroes. He regards them silently for a moment before looking at Hizashi, who looks near to tears.

“Present Mic.” Izuku says. The blonde’s head snaps up from where it had been hidden in the capture scarf. “Have faith. Your husband is stronger than he looks, he’ll come back to you. I’ll make sure of it. After all,” Izuku turns away, preparing his gauntlet to take him away. “Eraserhead is no one trick pony.”

Hizashi sucks in a gasp that’s equal parts shattered glass and tempered steel, and Izuku flies away. The comm link opens up as his feet hit the rooftop.

“Thank you, for giving him hope.” Shouta whispers. Izuku smiles to himself, a little sad, a little fond.

“That promise is not one I’ll break. One way or another Shouta, I’ll get you home.” Izuku responds. Shouta doesn’t respond, the comm link cutting out, but Izuku knows he’s grateful. One way or another. Even if it means sending him home before the work is done, or giving up his own life. Shouta is going home eventually, Izuku will make damn sure of it. Right now, there's technically not many things for Hitoshi and him to go home to. Izuku has his mother, and maybe Kacchan, but Hitoshi has no one. No one but Shouta and future that he will never let come true again.

They don't have 1-A, they don't have UA staff, but Shouta has way too much to lose.

A husband and a daughter who is yet to be saved. An entire school's worth of friends. An underground information network that relies on him to keep streets safe. Heroes and vigilantes and villains across the country. Police, medical staff, firemen, and more. He has so many people waiting for him to go home, searching for him, relying on him. Shouta will go home, it is the only certainty Izuku knows. Even if the mission fails, Shouta will go home again. It's the least Izuku can offer.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi shifts as he remains crouched on top of the building.

Izuku says he found Dabi, A.K.A. Todoroki Touya, and now it’s just a matter of confronting the young man. They’re currently on Shikoku Island, deep in the heart of one of the major cities. Hitoshi can’t remember which one this is, he didn’t really care. But according to Izuku, this is the area where Touya was last seen. They’re spread out across the city, trying to cover more ground to locate Touya as soon as possible. Given he’s the biggest threat at the moment compared to every other person on the list, Touya comes first.

Right now, Hitoshi is scoping out a building with suspicious activity.

They’ve been searching for Touya in whatever city this is for a week now with no luck, and with Izuku’s permission, Hitoshi is allowed to do a little work towards the other part of the mission. The building he’s scoping out is one of All For One’s, at least Izuku thinks it is. So he’s scouting it out to see if maybe he can take it out alone, or if he’ll need backup from his partners.

So far he hasn’t seen much comings and goings, but he knows there’s people in there due to his goggles’ heat vision.

He wonders if he’ll get lucky and they slip up for him, or if he’ll have to scout from the inside instead. He’d rather not, honestly. With this type of building, he’d surely have to rely on the ventilation shafts to move around silently, and Hitoshi isn’t a big fan of small spaces. Some of that’s due to always being shoved in a closet his foster families will call a room, some of that is because of Future Bullshit, as he likes to call it. Either way, he hates the very idea of it.

His mask picks up on audio that isn’t from the building, and out of curiosity he goes to find what the ruckus is all about.

It sounds like a fight, and with as high as he has the auditory sensors right now, the fight could be anywhere from the next building over, to a few blocks away. He doesn’t care, he’s tired of playing the waiting game. Sitting still isn’t his forte. You stand still during the apocalypse, you get ambushed and killed. The golden rule is never stop moving, and no one can catch you.

The fight gets closer as Hitoshi crosses rooftops, changing his direction when the mask’s sensors shift to a single ear to indicate general direction.

When the noise becomes loud enough to be overwhelming, he turns the auditory intake back down to normal levels to follow with his own hearing and instincts. It’s not hard to find the fight he was looking for when a flash of blue light erupts briefly in an alley a couple buildings ahead.

If that light means what he thinks he means, he might have just found their target.

Activating the tracking device secured to his jacket sleeve to indicate a need for backup, Hitoshi drops down into the alley on silent feet. He lands behind a figure holding a knife in his hands, and Hitoshi doesn’t hesitate to knock the giant man out. It’s boringly easy and quick, and Hitoshi almost sighs. Damn, he didn’t even get an adrenaline rush!

Deeper into the alley, a face all too familiar and at the same time not at all, stands still with blue flames encasing his fists.

“You alright?” Hitoshi asks, because that’s how these kinds of things are supposed to go and he doesn’t want to spook Touya into running or attacking. The blue flames are put out, making Hitoshi have to let his eyes adjust to the dark of night.

“I was doing perfectly fine, who the hell even are you? A hero?” Touya, and yes, Hitoshi would recognize the voice of the homicidal maniac Dabi anywhere, bites out harshly.

“Nope. Just your friendly neighborhood vigilante.” Hitoshi says. His voice is mimicking Tsukauchi right now. Before they can speak any further, another figure lands in the alley beside Hitoshi, the height easily giving it away as Izuku.

“I see you found Touya.” Izuku says in the private link.

“Oh great, now there’s two of you. Good job, you stopped a mugging, you can go now.” Touya growls. Hitoshi can see the slight panic hidden well by the mask of hate on Touya’s face. He gets it, technically they are trapping Touya in the alley. Dad lands beside him soon after, and Touya’s voice raises in pitch. “Now three? Just get away from me already!”

“Easy there.” Izuku says. “We aren’t here to hurt you.”

“Good, that’s fine, so you can leave now.” Touya snaps. He’s edging further into the alley but this one is a deadend from what Hitoshi can tell.

“Todoroki Touya.” Izuku says, and Touya’s movements halt, frozen in panic. Well at least he hasn’t tried to fry them yet.

“How do you know that name!? Who are you!?” Touya yells.

“I’m Silence, this is Secret,” Hitoshi gestures to Izuku who gives a cheeky two fingered salute. “And this is Soldier. We’re vigilantes, like I said. We’ve been looking for you.”

“Did my father send you?” Touya accuses, what he can see of Touya's eyes narrowing.

“Quite the contrary.” Dad responds. He’s not even bothering to use the voice modulator. “We’re preparing a case against Endeavor for child abuse, child neglect, spousal abuse, and at least thirty counts of excessive property damage, a minimum of twenty counts of excessive force and wrongful murder, among other transgressions.”

Touya seems to ease slightly in his confusion, hands lowering from he had raised them in preparation of using his quirk. “What?”

“You heard us. We’ve been looking for you, because with your testimony and your family’s testimonies, along with what we already have on Endeavor, he won’t be able to get out scot free like he usually does. We’ve already begun shifting the public opinion of him.” Izuku explains, stepping closer to Touya with hands raised in the universal sign of surrender.

“Those articles,” Touya whispers, sounding like he’s in awe. “That was you?”

“An associate of ours, yes.” Hitoshi says.

“And you want my help.”

“That is correct.” Dad says.

“But, he’s the number two pro hero.” Touya says, voice wobbling as he gets closer and comes a little more out of the shadows. He sounds hopeful but wary.

“And that matters none. No man, not even All Might, is above the law. And from what we know, Endeavor has been breaking the law for years not only by public standards, but also personal ones.” Izuku says, sounding more like the war veteran Hitoshi knows. The last couple of months let the two of them be kids again, even if only in their downtime.

Touya steps even closer, and Hitoshi can now see the state of his scars.

They aren’t as bad as they were before his suicide mission to take out Endeavor, but there’s still a few peominent ones that he can see. On the right side of his neck, peeking out from underneath his frayed collar, is a fresh red burn that looks like it hasn’t healed or been tended to yet. On his right arm, there’s a few smatterings of red and purple scars, but these look half or fully healed to him. His left wrist has a fresher burn than his neck, still bubbling harshly. None on his face yet.

He’s still got his dyed black hair, and his clothes are half falling apart. Touya’s shoes are held together only by duct tape and spite at this point. The ratty clothes hang loosely off his frame, meaning he’s probably severely malnourished. Hitoshi knows that with a healthy diet his frame will bulk up more, and eventually, he’ll be almost as tall as Endeavor.

“Do you really think you can win against him?” Touya asks, voice still shaky.

From what Hitoshi can gather, the streets have him jaded, but not nearly as bad as he’ll be with a few more years on them. There’s still a little hope flickering in Touya’s heart. Small, weak, but it’s there. And that’s all they need.

“I don’t think, I know.” Izuku responds. “Will you let us help you?” Izuku holds out a hand but makes no move to get closer, allowing Touya the chance to refuse. Touya seems to hesitate, looking at all three of them one by one, but after a few moments he steps forward and grabs Izuku’s hand with his own trembling one.

“What do I need to do?”

Hitoshi can feel the smile radiating off of Izuku, the loosening of the tension in the air. For a while, the past few months actually, Hitoshi wasn’t sure they could save Dabi. He was afraid they hadn’t Jumped far enough, that Touya would be lost by the time they got to him. Now, Hitoshi has more hope than ever that they can manage to complete their mission.

“First, we need you off the streets.” Dad says as Touya drops Izuku’s hand. “We want to take you to a friend of ours, he’s trustworthy.”

That has Touya’s face shutting down again, looking at Dad with heavy suspicion in his eyes. “Who would that be?”

“He’s a detective.” Hitoshi answers. “His quirk is called Lie Detection. He’ll listen to your story, and he’ll know it’s the truth. He’ll help you.”

“Detective Tsukauchi has friends in high places as well, so you’ll be protected.” Dad continues.

“Friends like who?” Touya asks, still suspicious, but opening back up again.

“Principal Nezu of UA for one. All Might for another. He’s highly respected in the system, he’ll give you a home, a bed, and a chance to save your family.” Izuku says. “He lives just outside of Musutafu, so the trip will be a few hours. We’ll take you somewhere safe for the night, and drop by a department store for some new clothes and supplies before we head to his place.”

“Are you sure about this?” Touya asks, looking directly at Hitoshi. Some reason, he seems to think Hitoshi is the one to ask if his partners are trustworthy. Hitoshi wants to smile under his mask. Usually it’s Izuku who the victims trust first.

“I’m sure.” Hitoshi responds kindly. “We’ll keep you safe tonight.”

“I don’t know what to say, why are you offering this to me? You barely even know me.” Touya says. It reminds Hitoshi of himself from another time.

“I don’t understand, why are you doing this for me? I’m not even your student, you barely even know me. I didn’t even win the sports festival.”

“I don’t have to know you to know that you deserve a chance, kid. What do you say? Ready to be a hero?”

“We don’t have to know you to know you deserve a chance.” Hitoshi says, repeating words that changed his life once upon a time. Words that led to a warm bed and a little sister, and a loud Pops and sleepy Dad. Words that led to eighteen friends and a boyfriend, to cuddle sessions and movie nights, and family. Dad breathes in a sharp breath. “What do you say? Ready to save your family?”

Touya’s eyes wells up with tears that don’t fall and he smiles, the first smile he’s given since Hitoshi knocked the villain out for him.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“I’ll call this guy in.” Izuku says. “Meet you guys later.”

“Will do.” Hitoshi says, and the three of them leave Izuku in the alley to call the cops for a pickup.

Touya walks slightly behind them, but Hitoshi soon falls back to walk beside him. Dad leads the way through the dark streets to the house they’re squatting in right now. The family is on vacation in the Bahamas, and won’t be back for a week.

“Thank you.” Touya whispers. Hitoshi hums in response for a moment, tucking his hands in his pockets and pressing the buttons to warm them up.

“Beating up criminals, saving damsels, all a part of the job.” Hitoshi says lightly. Touya snorts.

“I was hardly a damsel.” He holds up his right arm where he flicks a tiny blue flame between his fingers like he’s rolling a coin over his knuckles.

“Maybe so, but I would prefer to have saved you the burns.” Hitoshi says, gesturing with his head to the bubbling burn on his left arm. Touya moves to cover it, but ends up stopping the motion half way through.

“My quirk isn’t suited for my body. It’s whatever though, I’m used to it.”

“Used to cooking from the inside out? I doubt that.” Hitoshi responds. “Tell me what your quirk is, maybe I can help.”

“Yeah? And how are you supposed to do that?” Touya asks. He sounds like he’s humoring Hitoshi.

“I’m no Secret, but I can analyze a quirk too. Every drawback can be fought, you know, just let me know what I’m working with.” Hitoshi says. Of course, he’s only half telling the truth. He can analyze a quirk a little bit, but he’s always been better at reading people than quirks. It’s what makes the three of them work so well with each other.

Izuku analyzes the quirk, Hitoshi analyzes the personality and mannerisms, and Dad analyzes the motivations.

He only half listens when Touya explains the finer details of his quirk, prompted by questions Izuku asks through the comms that Hitoshi relays. It’s not like they really need to know that much. Izuku and Hitoshi, and every one of the last eleven, they all knew Dabi’s quirk well enough. Izuku has a few theories on ways Dabi could use his quirk without hurting himself.

The first theory is that it actually is a combination of his parents’ quirks. The first direction it could go is that Touya’s fire isn’t supposed to be hot, it’s supposed to be cold. Like an ice quirk inside of a fire quirk. The second direction is that his mother’s constitution means the reason he keeps overheating and burning himself alive is because he’s in the wrong environment. He’s supposed to be living in freezing temperatures. Which would make him a perfect candidate for Mountain Rescue Heroics.

The second theory is that because of Endeavor’s ‘training’ he only ever uses it at max percentage, when it might work like One For All did with Izuku. Touya might be able to manipulate the temperature of his flames, making it possible for him to have a normal fire quirk that can just get really fucking hot if he wants it to. There’s more theories of course, Hitoshi just never bothered to learn them. Why would he?

A) Dabi was dead for years before the Jump, and B) All Hitoshi needed to know before Dabi’s death was that fire is hot and to keep his distance.

Hitoshi and Touya- with Izuku in Hitoshi’s ear- discuss the details of Izuku’s many theories, as they make their way to their place for the night. The conversation helps Touya relax immensely. Dad keeps his distance, and Izuku trails behind them by a few blocks. It seems all three of them have clocked the fact that Touya is only comfortable with Hitoshi.

Dad goes in first, while Hitoshi holds Touya back.

At Touya’s questioning and suspicious look, Hitoshi explains. “Soldier is securing the house, after all we have a high profile witness to protect.”

“You know, you guys act more like heroes than vigilantes.” Touya muses, and Hitoshi fights to keep from tensing. A high pitched whistle sounds out from inside the house giving the all clear, so Hitoshi nudges Touya to head on inside. “So what now?” he asks once they’re inside, Izuku coming in a few minutes after them.

They’re all in the living room for the moment, given the three of them aren’t comfortable using another person’s bed, or to be separated from each other in unfamiliar territory.

“Right now,” Izuku starts. “You get some rest. There’s another job we need to take care of before we head to the Detective’s tomorrow.”

“What kind of job?” Touya asks, raising an eyebrow. Dad flips on the light after closing the shades, and Hitoshi can see Touya more clearly. His raised eyebrow has a piercing, and there’s a few cuts on his lip, possibly from other brawls.

“One you don’t need to worry about.” Dad says. He’s in the kitchen, cooking up some food for Touya since he looks like he hasn’t had a good meal in a long time. Of course, they’re using food they bought themselves instead of what’s already here. Touya looks displeased at the answer.

“Out of curiosity,” Touya says a few minutes of silence later. “Is there any way that I could join your little group?”

“Not possible.” Izuku says. “Even if we were taking applicants, and we aren’t, you couldn’t join us anyways. We need you to be a credible source of information, and that means keeping you not only safe, but also above the law. I’ve already made sure there’s no trace of your presence on any open cases, so now the rest is up to you. Just lay low, wait, and when the time comes, nail Endeavor to the floor with his own actions.”

“Okay.” Touya mutters, looking disappointed. Maybe if they weren’t on the mission they were on, Hitoshi would fight to let the kid join them, but that’s not the case. Besides, real vigilantes are notorious for being able to tip with a gust of wind. One bad night is all it takes sometimes to send them all the way into villainy. It’s why underground heroes like Dad try to push them into getting licenses before they get the chance to fall into villainy.

Keeping Touya as far away from becoming Dabi is the goal here, not give him a whole other opportunity to go villain.

“Don’t worry. Secret and I can handle this little side job. Soldier will be here to keep you safe.” Hitoshi says. “Get some rest, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter Text

Touya wakes up when Secret and Silence come back from whatever job they had to do.

He can’t help but feel relief. Silence is the only one he trusts, the other two just make him uncomfortable, in two entirely different ways. Secret creeps him out because he’s always watching Touya, and the gaze reminds him a little bit like Endeavor, except a lot less malicious. Calculating and analyzing as if he’s sizing Touya up like they’re about to throw down in a fight, and Secret would win. Doesn’t matter how short the guy is, Touya knows a threat when he sees one.

And Soldier is just weird.

Soldier makes him feel like a stray cat. Like at any moment, Soldier is going to snatch him up and take him home. It’s not in any sort of disgusting way that he can tell, and Touya’s instincts about people have sharpened since being on the streets, but still. It makes him uncomfortable. Is this, like, a pseudo adoption thing going on? Is Soldier trying to parent him?

Silence, he just seems like a pretty chill guy.

Touya is about to sit up and welcome the two back when the three start talking. He stills immediately, keeping his breathing relaxed and even. He learned how to fake being asleep at a young age. He would be awake at night, silently crying in pain, and his mother had an almost compulsive need to check on her three kids. It was mainly when Shouto was still in the womb, her protectiveness rearing its head like a charging bull. When she checked on him and he was crying, then Mom would start crying, and then he’d have to calm her down before she woke Endeavor or Yumi or Natsu.

It was just easier to pretend to be asleep.

“How is he?” An unfamiliar voice answers, and Touya almost throws himself into a sitting position when he realizes that there’s no subtle metallic tang to the voice indicating a voice modifier being used. They have their masks off. Holy shit they have their masks off.

“He’s been pretty quiet until he fell asleep. Not much talking but he snores worse than Zashi.” This one, presumably, is Soldier. Touya kind of wants to feel offended, but honestly with years worth of smoke inhalation, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“I’d rather him snoring than trying to kill us.” This voice snorts, and Touya gets the feeling this one is definitely Silence.

“That’s true, I’ll give you that.” Soldier responds. “How was the job?”

A groan echoes through the living room. “Frustratingly easy, but at least it’s done.” Silence says.

“I wouldn’t call a full on raid with only two people easy.” Secret says, and wow, maybe the shortness is due to how young he is. He sounds like a child just going through puberty, cracky voice and all.

“Compared to Nomu it sure as hell was.” Silence says. What’s a Nomu? Is that a gang?

“Either of you hurt?”

“A few bruises but nothing we can’t handle. Pretty sure these suits could tank a nuclear bomb.”

“Thank you, I try.” Secret says, sounding smug and pleased.

“Why are you taking credit? These aren’t your designs, you just made them.” Silence fires back. There’s a gasp of offense, presumably from Secret.

“Hey! I made a few modifications, which means I’m definitely a co-designer!”

“Good thing Mei isn’t here to hear you say that.”

“Behave you two, I don’t have the mental energy to deal with your bullshit. So what’s the plan from here?” Soldier asks. Secret and Silence both grumble quietly for a moment.

“Right now we rest. In the morning we take Touya to get some clothes to wear until Tsukauchi has the chance to take him to the store. When we’re back in Mustafu, one of us will need to run back to the base to get the files pertaining to Endeavor for Tsukauchi. Then we drop him off at Tsukauchi’s.” Secret responds.

“We should give him a burner, just in case. That way if anything goes wrong, he can contact us.” Silence responds.

“Are you sure that’s wise? You know how Nao is, and besides, he shouldn’t use us as a crutch, especially since we’ll be extremely busy.” Soldier says.

“I’m sure. I can coach him on how to answer Tsukauchi’s questions without giving us away. He needs a lifeline, he’s too skittish to put full faith in us. Besides, he’s a capable kid, more likely than not he’ll rely on himself to get out of a heavy situation and then call us for backup.” Secret responds. There’s the sound of two zippers and some rustling. Are they taking off their badass jackets? Are they really not worried about Touya seeing their identities? Aren’t vigilantes supposed to be paranoid with their identities? “I’m actually surprised he wasn’t as difficult to convince as I expected. I was fully expecting it to take weeks to get him to come with us, so this moves up the schedule a lot.”

“What’s next on the list then?” Silence asks at the same time there’s a loud oomph from the couch.

“Toga Himiko. The sooner we get her out of that house the better. And actually, we only need one person for that job, so I’m thinking we split up to make things run faster.”

“At least her case will be easier than exposing Endeavor or the Commission. Who else do you have in mind right now?” Soldier says.

“I’m thinking Twice. Do them two at the same time, and then we can focus on Shigaraki and Kurogiri. Their situations are more delicate than even Touya’s, so it will take time, and we need to start as soon as possible.” Secret responds. Touya wonders about that. His own situation is delicate due to his father’s number two status, so does this mean he’s not the only one? Are there more heroes abusing their kids? Touya wonders that if his theory is true, does this mean these two people are the kids of a hero even more high profile than Endeavor?

Could they be All Might’s kids?

But that can’t be true, this is All Might he’s talking about. Would the Symbol of Peace really be like his father?

“Hey,” Silence says suddenly, dragging Touya’s attention back to his eavesdropping. “I thought you said Touya snores?”

Busted.

“We know you're awake.” Soldier says to Touya, and he bites back a flinch. “No use pretending now.” Touya sits up gingerly, keeping his eyes pointed at the ground out of respect towards their secret identities.

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

“Don’t worry about it, and you don’t have to look at the ground Touya.” Silence says, still mask-less. “We have our hoods up.”

Touya hesitates, but he does look up to see that, yes, they are wearing their hoods up. Their jackets are still unzipped, showing a well made set of shirts that look as heavy and uncomfortable as the jackets do. Their hoods hang over their faces in just enough shadow to disguise their features, but still see the colors of their eyes. Silence’s eyes are the same shade of purple that accents their uniform, Secret’s the same shade of green as well. Soldier’s eyes are black, unlike the red on his uniform. On the coffee table lay three masks and three goggles, as well as a pair of gauntlet looking things.

“Did we wake you?” Secret asks. “How much did you hear?”

“I woke up when you walked in, so, everything?” Touya answers awkwardly. Now he feels bad because these three are trying to help him and he’s throwing it in their faces by eavesdropping.

“Then you should know; the names you heard? Don’t repeat them to anyone else.” Soldier says.

“Heroes are great and all but these things, these people, need to be handled with a certain-” Secret starts to say when Silence cuts him off with a helpful tone.

“C’est la vie.”

Secret hesitates, sighs, and then continues. “Delicacy. Silence, I don’t think that’s the right expression.” Silence shrugs, grinning like the cheshire cat. He definitely did that on purpose.

“I won’t say anything, I promise.” Touya says. Secret grins at him, and for some reason, it makes his shoulders relax a bit.

“Thank you. Now then, the sun should be up within the hour, so why don’t you use the shower while the three of us get packed up?”

Touya tries not to sprint in the direction of the shower.

They’re on the train a little while later, Touya wearing some new clothes from a donation shop, clean like he is for the first time in months. The three vigilantes turned their jackets inside out while he was in the shower, and now they look like two kids and two teenagers. Secret and Silence have matching jackets in green and purple with cat ears on the hoods, while Soldier has a simple hoodie and leather jacket combo on his. They keep their hoods up the entire time, and Touya valiantly keeps his eyes away from them given the broad daylight and the lack of masks to hide their faces.

Before he knows it, they're standing across the street from an unassuming, middle class apartment.

Soldier took off towards their base to grab the files, at Secret’s behest, while Secret and Silence are back to being fully suited up with masks and goggles and uniform sides out. Touya feels like he’s still dreaming. This is really happening.

One moment he was a random kid on the street, starving and wary and untrusting, legally dead. Unable to find legal work due to not technically existing in the eyes of the law. Homeless and poor and bitter.

The next moment he’s psyching himself up to speak to this detective about his home life, armed with the backing of three vigilantes and a briefcase full of evidence on his father on the way. He’s twenty years old, and his life, his reality, has been completely upended by three strangers. Two of which are actual children.

Touya thinks they might be about how old Shouto is now.

“Thank you.” Touya whispers to the two vigilantes on either side of him. Flanking him like he’s something to protect, someone important. He’s not dumb, he knows most what they’re doing for him is because he can be the last nail in his father’s coffin. But they’re still doing more for him than his parents, his tutors, teachers, and private doctors combined.

“Don’t mention it. You know what you have to say?”

Touya nods, repeating the words he’s rehearsed in his head the entire journey here. “My name is Todoroki Touya, eldest son of Pro Hero Endeavor. The vigilantes Silence, Secret, and Soldier brought me here after finding me in the search of your missing hero, Eraserhead. My father abused me, and is still abusing my family, and they want your help to take him down.”

No hero is untouchable.

“Good, that’ll get you in the door. Once you’re inside, answer his questions truthfully and thoroughly, even if it hurts to talk about. The sooner Tsukauchi has all the information he needs, he can start working against Endeavor.” Secret says for what must be the tenth time. He’s a bit of a worrier, Touya has learned through this process. “If he asks anything about us, and I’m sure he will, try to keep things vague. When you first walk in though, before he starts asking questions, give him this letter for me.”

Touya takes the envelope handed to him gently, slowly.

He suddenly feels like he’s running out of time. Is this it? Is this the last he’ll see of his heroes? “Touya.” Silence says, making him look up through the stinging in his eyes. “We’ll be checking up on you periodically to make sure things are running smoothly and that you’re safe. This isn’t goodbye. Take care of yourself alright? You have our number if you need us.”

“I can’t thank you enough for all of this.” Touya says.

“Thank us by being happy, safe, and taking care of your family.” Soldier says from above, before landing gently enough on the ground of the alley that there’s hardly any noise. He has the briefcase of evidence against his father in hand, which Touya takes hold of.

“Okay.” Touya responds. He looks at the house he’s expected to go to. It looks relatively normal. Two stories, a red brick exterior, a small front lawn and a plain black car in the driveway. There’s two little plants on the small concrete slab of a porch that look a little underwatered, and two chairs and a small end table to the side of the door. It looks well loved, but not immaculate, traditional but not not suffocating.

It looks like the exact opposite of the prison-like estate he was raised in.

“Okay.” Touya repeats out loud, more sure of himself. With one last look to the vigilantes, who encourage him gently, Touya crosses the quiet street and knocks on the door. It’s opened by a plain looking man, who looks like he hasn’t slept well in years, with morning shadow and a cup of coffee in hand. He’s the type who’s built for speed, but hides it under his trenchcoat, which is so cliche Touya doesn’t want to call him on it.

“Hello, can I help you?” The man says. Tired, but not unkind, gentle but firm. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Touya rushes through the rehearsed words while also holding out the envelope.

“My name is T-todoroki Touya, and I’m the eldest son of Pro Hero E-endeavor…”

Chapter Text

Naomasa, after registering that everything the kid said rang true, let Todoroki inside.

“Okay.” Naomasa says, running a hand over his face and then over his head. “Would you be alright with answering questions at the station or would you prefer to do it here instead?”

“Here please.” Todoroki says quietly, following after him when Naomasa heads to the living room. The kid sits hesitantly on the couch, clutching the giant briefcase like a lifeline. Naomasa gestures for him to hold on a second as he makes a phone call to the station he’s scheduled to be at today. He kind of doesn’t have a set location, they kind of let him jump around to different stations in the area as needed. It happens often enough that he gets his own office at every precinct he regularly visits.

The call is quick, letting the answering officer know that he wouldn’t be able to come in today due to unforeseen circumstances.

When he’s done, he drops by the kitchen to grab a couple bottles of water since his kitchen is bare of most everything. He was gonna go grocery shopping after work but oh well. Back in the living room, he settles onto one of his loveseats. Since he’s already pretty much ready for work, he has his portable recorder with him, so he takes it out and holds it up to the nervous kid in front of him.

“Do you mind if I record this so we don’t have to start from the beginning when a case is officially open?” If a case is opened. He’ll determine whether everything the kid says is actually true through questions, since there are ways of tricking his quirk, as difficult to do as they may be.

“I don’t mind.” Todoroki says, still quiet and wary. His fingers nervously fiddle with the handle of the briefcase in his lap. “Uh, the vigilantes told me to tell you to read the letter before questions though.”

Having almost completely forgotten about the letter, he pulls it out of his pocket to read as quickly as possible.

Dear Detective,

The search for your hero is ongoing, and I know you blame yourself, but don’t. Eraser is a stubborn man, even if you had handcuffed him and drugged him, he would have found a way to leave if he really wanted to. I’m sorry we couldn’t help more, but right now Touya needs your help more than anything. In the briefcase is all of the evidence compiled against Endeavor Sequence could find, not including evidence of abuse.

At the very least, what’s in that briefcase will get his hero license revoked.

I suggest, to get evidence of the abuse, approach the Todoroki family in secret while Endeavor is away on a mission. Specifically Shouto. Rei as well, but keeping a visit to her quiet will be difficult so use caution. Touya, Shouto and Rei are the main three who can give evidence against Endeavor for his crimes in the household. Fuyumi and Natsuo were largely neglected all their lives, so they will have less, but they will still be helpful. Be prudent, ask for help from Nezu, and trust us. Touya deserves a chance, so be the one to give him it.

We owe you a favor for this Detective, use it wisely. After all, we have eyes in many places and we know many things.

Signed,

Secret, Silence and Soldier

P.S. Call him Touya, he doesn’t like his family name. It’ll help make him trust you more.

Naomasa runs a hand through his hair, rereading the letter before tucking it back in the envelope for later use. “Are you ready to answer some questions, Touya?” Todoroki- Touya- looks up from the coffee table in shock at his formal name. “Is it alright if I call you Touya?” Always better to be sure.

“Touya is fine.” He says, and Naomasa doesn’t draw attention to the small smile on the kid’s face. Setting the recorder up on the table between them, Naomasa starts the interview as he always does.

“This is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa of the Musutafu Police Department. It is seven o’six in the morning, and we are currently in my home as was requested. For legal purposes, I must inform you that my quirk is called Lie Detector. I will be able to tell if what you are saying is the truth or not. Do you accept the terms of the interview?”

Touya straightens up, clears his throat, and speaks louder than he has since he got here, but that’s not saying much. “I accept.”

“Very well, I would like to inform you that at any time if you would like to take a break, just inform me, and we can continue the interview once you’re ready. Can you please state your name, age, and date of birth for the record.”

“My name is Todoroki Touya, eldest son of Pro Hero Endeavor. I’m twenty years old, and my date of birth is the sixth of December, 2XXX.”

“True. Can you state the reason for the interview please?”

“My father, Pro Hero Endeavor, has abused me and my family since his marriage to my mother, Todoroki Rei, maiden name Himura.” Touya says, sounding far more confident than before. He’s doing the interview very well, almost like he had been shown how to do so professionally. Sort of like a hero would. The vigilantes, or Endeavor?

“True. Can you give a vague description of the abuse for now? We’ll go into detail as the interview continues.”

“The real abuse for me and my siblings didn’t begin until I turned of age for my quirk, but he abused my mother from the day the marriage contract was signed. Endeavor bought my mother in a quirk marriage, making the contract in his favor so if she ever tried to leave him, she would be taken to court and sued for everything she owned, even us kids. When I turned five, my twin sister, Todoroki Fuyumi, and I both received our quirks. Fuyumi’s quirk wasn’t a powerful one, so he ignored her, but mine was. He began abusing me in the guise of ‘training’ for most of my life.” Touya takes a deep breath to keep going, but Naomasa holds a hand up to stop him. His blood is boiling underneath his skin as every word spoken rings true, but he keeps his cool as much as possible.

“This is all true. Before you continue, I have a few questions, if you are alright to continue.”

“I’m fine. Ask away.” Naomasa isn’t fine, but that’s not the point.

“You say that Endeavor bought your mother in a quirk marriage. Do you know of any surviving documents to confirm your claims?”

“My mother kept a copy hidden inside the house, but I don’t know where. She changed the hiding place every month to keep Endeavor from finding them.” Touya informs him. Naomasa writes that down in his notepad as he asks his next question.

“And you say your quirk was deemed strong by Endeavor, can you elaborate?”

“My quirk is called Cremation. I create flames that run as hot as three thousand degree celsius, thus hotter than even Endeavor’s quirk, Hell Flame.” Touya produces a tiny blue flame on the end of his pointer finger, and Naomasa watches in concern as only those few seconds cause his skin to become red and agitated. “Due to my mother’s quirk- I don’t know the exact name of it, but it’s a relatively strong ice quirk- my body doesn’t handle the flames that I produce, so they burn me.”

“True. You may continue where you left off.” Naomasa says, even though his stomach is churning already. They’ve barely gotten started and already he feels sick to his stomach and burning with rage.

“When the fact of my quirk hurting my body was discovered, Natsuo had already been diagnosed quirkless, and Shouto was already conceived. At the age of three, Shouto’s quirk came in early, the perfect balance of fire and ice Endeavor had been working towards. To prevent Endeavor from forcing a three year old to train as hard as most hero schools train fifteen year olds, I offered myself as a distraction, training harder than ever without a complaint. Even as the burns started to become worse, ending up as scarring over my body.” Touya’s face begins to grow pale, but his eyes are focused hard on the recorder, his hands twitching as they fiddle with the handle of the briefcase more. “By the age of five, Shouto was forced into training as well, and we were forced to spar against one another. At the age of seventeen, Shouto the age of ten, I-” At this Touya hesitates, clears his throat again, and looks away from Naomasa as he continues. Just that action has dread flooding his system.

“I couldn’t take it much more. I had begun to hate my baby brother, and when I realized this myself, I-” Another hesitation. “I faked my death and ran away. I’ve lived on the streets ever since.”

“This is all true.” Naomasa grits out between his teeth. “We will take a break and continue this interview in a few minutes.” With that he quickly shuts off the recorder. Touya startles.

“I don’t need a break though.”

“I do.” Naomasa growls, standing up to get some distance. He doesn’t leave the room, but he turns his back on the traumatized kid behind him to try and calm himself down. He’s seen and heard of some pretty fucked up things in his career, but this is by far one of the worst. “Fuck.”

In that moment, Naomasa knows in his heart, he’s going to do anything and everything he can for this kid and his family.

“I’m putting you in therapy as soon as you’re settled in.” He says out loud.

“Settled in?” Touya asks from behind him, sounding hesitant. Naomasa turns to look at him and the hope on this kid’s face absolutely rips his heart into a million pieces. God, this kid has been failed in so many ways.

If and when they find Shouta, he’ll never tease him for his dad tendencies again.

“You think I’m letting you back on the street after hearing all of that? And that’s just a vague explanation? Hell no.” Naomasa hisses out. “I swear to god if Endeavor comes within ten feet of me anytime soon, we might be sending me to prison instead.”

“You-” Touya’s breath hitches. “You believe me?”

“First of all, lie detection quirk, second of all, this is all so fucked up I wouldn’t need a quirk to see you’re telling the truth.” Naomasa says. He groans long and hard. “I need more coffee.” He heads into the kitchen to brew another pot of coffee, using the waiting time to try and cool himself down. This is gonna be a long day.

With a cup of coffee in hand, his breathing even again, and the rage simmering down enough he stops seeing red, he heads back into the living room to continue the interview. But first, he needs to make a list of things to do.

Settling the notepad on his knee, he begins scribbling on a new page.

“What are you doing?” Touya asks, curious, and closer than before. When Naomasa looks up, the kid is standing to the side of his chair and trying to read his handwriting without getting too close. He tilts the notepad so the kid can see better.

“Making a list. You’ll need clothes, a phone, some burn cream. A set of sheets and a comforter, I have a guest bedroom, but all that’s in there is the bare furniture. A laptop, maybe some decorations.” Naomasa continues muttering out loud as he lists more items on the notepad. “Groceries for two, some toiletries like toothbrushes and shampoo and things. A lamp for the desk. You said you left at seventeen, so I’ll look into testing your school knowledge later. Oh and some things to entertain you while I’m at work. Video games, kids like video games right?”

“Never had the chance to play any.” Touya says casually, getting closer and settling lightly on the arm of his chair. Naomasa is too distracted to notice or care.

“Definitely video games, and books. You’ll need a key to the house, and shit, I need to get you re-registered in the system. God that’ll be a pain. And an emergency call button, you need that just in case you’re in trouble and need help. Some therapy, maybe a quirk specialist too, to help with the flames burning you.”

“You’re really getting into this, huh?” Touya says, sounding amused. Naomasa ignores him, still muttering as he continues his list.

“You’ll need to be updated on all of your shots as well-”

“Not a dog.”

“I’ll need to get you checked out by Recovery Girl, she’s great with kids-”

“Not a child.”

“Oh my god I’m too young to be a father.” Naomasa suddenly whispers in horror, staring at the notepad in his lap blankly. “What do fathers do? How does this work? How do you take care of a child? I barely take care of myself!”

“You should slow down a bit there buddy.”

“I should buy parenting books, surely they can tell me what to do.”

“Not a toddler. Can take care of myself.”

“And I need to lock up the weapons-”

“I know how to use a gun idiot, I lived on the streets.”

“I should figure out rules too, kids need rules right?”

“That’s fair, still not a child though.”

“And maybe-”

“Detective!” Touya yells, and Naomasa stops talking to look at the kid. He looks embarrassed, maybe a little pleased, more than a little annoyed. “Don’t we need to continue the interview?’

For a moment Naomasa flounders on what the hell he’s talking about, and then it comes to him. “Oh yeah.”

“Oh my god, he’s a dumbass.” Touya whispers to himself, moving back to the couch. Naomasa gasps harshly. It rang true!? That is so mean!

“That is a lie, you take that back!”

Chapter Text

Yamada-Aizawa Hizashi is not coping.

The hope that Secret, the vigilante, had kindled in his heart what seems like years ago burned out slowly within a matter of days. He’s a hero. A good hero. And as a hero, he knows the statistics frighteningly well. The chances of a kidnap victim being found after the first seventy two hours are slim to none.

Shouta could be on the other side of the world at this point.

He doesn’t know how he let Shouta slip through his fingers so easily. He was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to be safe inside Tsukauchi’s precinct while Hizashi was on a mission, so he wouldn’t be alone the night before his birthday when the bad thing that was supposed to happen did.

Hizashi was supposed to pick him up from the precinct after the mission was completed, and they would go home to their cats and their cozy little apartment. They were going to cuddle through the night and watch movies until the sun rose and the main threat had passed, and then they would nap together. Hizashi would wake Shouta up with breakfast in bed, and they would go out and do something fun they haven’t tried before, as is tradition. Every year on their birthdays or around it, they would pick something to do that they’ve never done before, like skydiving or riding horses, things like that.

This year, the two of them were going to get away for a few days in Hong Kong, and do all the touristy things people do.

Instead, here he lies, silent and alone in his cold apartment, wrapped in a capture scarf that was retired years ago, but kept out of nostalgia. Even their cat, a gigantic Mancoon named Goddess who hates everyone, including Shouta the cat whisperer, sits waiting at the window sill. Miserably waiting for Shouta to fly over the rooftops and onto their small balcony like he usually does.

Hizashi’s eyes burn again, but no tears are left to fall.

He’s probably dehydrated from all of the crying, but who can blame him? His Shouta, his soulmate, the love of his life, is missing. Gone. Just like that. And there’s no guarantee that whoever took him will keep him alive. He could be dead, in a ditch somewhere, if there’s even a body to find in the first place.

Exhausted already, despite having just woken up, Hizashi forces himself into the kitchen to shovel food and coffee down his throat.

Once upon a time, he never drank coffee. He had plenty of energy naturally to handle three jobs at once. Now he barely has the energy for one. This kind of pain and heartache is worse than Oboro, worse than losing kids on the job, worse than watching previous students die no matter how good of heroes they were. He feels empty, colorless, hopeless.

The light of his life is gone and now the world is gray.

He stumbles through his new routine while biting back tears. Drink coffee and eat bland tasting food, which is bland on his tongue even when he uses an entire bottle’s worth of spices. Set up a bowl for Goddess, place it next to her because she won’t eat if she has to leave the window sill. Attempt to pet her, sometimes succeed, which never fails to hurt worse than when he fails. Get washed up, change into his hero suit, and throw his hair up into a messy bun instead of styling it. Wrap that precious old scarf around his shoulders, low enough to not impede his speakers, tight enough to not slip down and to offer comfort.

Check the Hero Network for updates, and then try not to cry when there isn’t any.

Put on his shoes, lock the door, and go to UA. Quietly lead his classes through Heroics 101 and English, having to take over for Shouta until he comes home. If he comes home. After school will be the radio station, where he will attempt to keep up his usual happy self. After that is patrol.

His new, quiet, colorless life.

Hizashi thinks he hates the quiet the most. He’s always hated the quiet, making a point to fill a room with noise and laughter and music to chase the silence away. But now he can’t be bothered, so the silence closes in. There’s no grumbling words in the morning that could be a death threat or could be a good morning. There’s no quiet pleas to Goddess for any scrap of attention.

There’s no cursing over terrible grades and problem students. No reprimands for getting too loud. Nothing.

Just the quiet, aching silence.

A silence soon broken by the ringing of his phone. Hizashi is in the teacher’s lounge, and he thinks it might be lunch time, but he doesn’t know. Time slips away from him sometimes. The other teachers usually try to give him space, and everyone is quiet. Even Vlad King is silently mourning someone who may or may be dead, and the two of them, Vlad and Shouta, used to butt heads over everything.

“This is Present Mic, how can I help you?” Hizashi says blandly. He’s staring out the window, out into the grounds where students are having lunch outside. It’s a nice day out. Normally on a day like this Hizashi would be begging Shouta to go out somewhere with him. A park or a cafe, anywhere they can enjoy the weather.

“I have a lead. A flimsy one, but it’s something. I’ll be at UA within the hour. I have guests with me. Please inform Nezu.” Tsukauchi says. It sparks a jolt of energy through him he hasn’t felt in weeks.

The teachers, almost all of them actually, all suddenly are looking at Hizashi as he surges to his feet with a shaky but real smile. “I’ll let him know. Thank you Tsukauchi.”

“Like I said, the lead is weak, so don’t get your hopes up.” He says tiredly. Hizashi doesn’t bother with a response and hangs up.

“Hizashi, what’s going on?” Snipe asks. Hizashi clutches his phone to his chest as if holding on to it will make the flimsy lead stronger.

“Tsukauchi says he might have a lead!”

“On Shouta?” Nemuri asks, her breath hitched and hope shining in her eyes. Hizashi nods quickly.

“I have to inform Nezu.” Hizashi says, rushing out of the room and towards the Principal's office. And inform Nezu he does. He hasn’t seen his boss look so excited in the entire month it’s been since the disappearance.

Just as he said, Tsukauchi is arriving at UA within the hour, and he brought along a random kid with black hair who looks uncomfortable, and a green haired woman who looks as much of a wreck as he is. Hizashi can’t bring himself to care. They’re in the office now, the five of them.

“Nezu, Yamada, this is my ward, Touya, and this is Midoriya Inko.” Tsukauchi says. “Mrs. Midoriya is the reason I’m here.”

“Yes, you said you had a lead.” Nezu says calmly. He’s handing Midoriya a cup of Jasmine tea, which she takes gratefully, sipping at it instead of wringing her hands nervously.

“Yes, Mrs. Midoriya, can you show them the letter?” Tsukauchi says.

“Please, call me Inko.” She says, handing Nezu a paper torn out of a notebook. Hizashi edges closer to read over Nezu’s shoulder. It’s the very last thing on the page that catches his attention.

1217131SC.

It’s the code. The one Shouta was emailed right before he went missing. The last thread, the only lead, it’s here. On a note written by a runaway child. Why would a child know this code? What does it mean?

“Inko, do you know what this code means?” Nezu asks after a quiet moment of reading. Inko tears up a little as she shakes her head.

“No. I don’t know what it could possibly refer to. I tried using it as a password for some of his electronics, but none of them worked. And the numbers don’t mean anything to him that I know of, though that doesn’t matter much.” Inko says.

“Can you explain what you mean by that?” Hizashi asks gently.

“It’s just-” Inko sniffs and draws out a handkerchief to blot her eyes. Not that it helps much with the constant streams down her face. “My son hasn’t really told me anything in years. He was diagnosed quirkless when he was five, and since then he’s just closed himself off.”

“He’s quirkless?” Hizashi asks, sharing a look with Nezu.

He’s a hero, and heroes have to know and understand the statistics. The statistics revolving around the quirkless are… not pleasant to say the least. Twenty percent globally are quirkless these days, give or take a bit due to biases, but only about two percent of Japan itself is quirkless. Most of those range in the elderly. Then there’s the statistics of bullying.

One in every two quirkless kids are bullied, abused, or both.

Twenty-five percent of quirkless kids runaway from home at least once in their life, and the suicide rate is at a high sixty seven percent by the age of sixteen. It only gets higher as the age limit grows. Eighty percent of young quirkless people don’t make it to thirty due to hate crimes, suicide or, the very worst cases, quirk trafficking and experimentation.

The quirkless are considered the perfect control factor in a scientific experiment.

It’s illegal and immoral, and Hizashi can’t even count the multiple quirk experimentation rings he’s helped take down throughout his career. Jesus fuck, a quirk experimentation ring was his first big publicized case when he went pro.

“Yes.” Inko says, bringing his attention back to her instead of the multitude of numbers and statistics clogging his thoughts. “He gets bullied, and I know he does, but because he won’t tell me anything there’s nothing I can do. But my Izuku would never just leave, he’s a strong boy! I’ve never known him to give up on anything.”

“Were there any signs that he was planning on leaving?” Nezu asks. Inko shakes her head.

“No, it was just a normal day. I had asked him what he wanted for his birthday, and of course he said he wanted the new All Might poster that came out a month ago. I sent him to bed, but when I woke up was gone.” Inko’s crying gets a little harsher, and Hizashi’s own instincts flare up, making him step closer to comfort her. He can’t stand seeing a woman or child, or hell, even a grown man cry. It takes a few moments, but her tears slow into that quiet and steady stream of before. “His backpack was dumped on the bed and some of his clothes and some of his hero note notebooks were missing. But that was it, other than the letter he left behind.”

“I see.” Nezu says, humming, sipping lightly at his tea. “Did you say hero notes? What do you mean by that?”

Inko laughs a little wetly. “Izuku has always loved heroes, even after his quirklessness was diagnosed. Said he would be the first quirkless hero, and while at first I didn’t believe him, after rereading some of things in his notebooks I believe it now. I have his latest one with me if you would like?”

“Please, that would be wonderful.” Nezu says. Inko sniffs once more, reaches into her purse and pulls out a normal composition notebook with the title Hero Analysis For the Future Volume 10. She hands it to Nezu, so while he reads what’s in the notebook, Hizashi takes over the questioning.

“Ms. Inko.” He says to grab her attention. “Have you noticed any strange behavior from Izuku, or perhaps strange people hanging around? Maybe Izuku broke routine at random in the last few months before going back to normal right after?”

“No, nothing out of the ordinary. But then again, I’m a single mother who works double shifts at the hospital all the time, so there would be a lot I might have missed.” Inko admits. She suddenly looks him in the eyes. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why is UA looking into my son’s missing case? Surely you are all very busy?”

“The code on your son’s letter matches one that a staff member received just before he went missing ma’am.” Tsukauchi replies. “We were wondering what the connection between your son and an underground hero would be.”

“Izuku? We don’t know any heroes personally, especially not underground ones.” Inko says.

“Well,” Nezu suddenly says, closing the notebook and laying it on the desk. “Even if no connection exists, I’ll be handling your son’s investigation personally from now on.”

“Nezu?” Hizashi asks.

“The information and analysis written in this notebook alone, while unprofessional and rough around the edges, could very well end the careers of twelve heroes. Possibly even put them in grave danger if they fall into the wrong hands.” Nezu explains. Inko positively gapes in shock, and Hizashi is right there with her. “Yamada, you might want to read this. You have an entry as well.”

Hizashi takes the notebook handed to him and flips through the notebook quickly until he finds a very familiar face and name looking back at him. The drawing itself is amazing, a picture of him in a bracing stance he usually uses when bracing for a loud scream.

Present Mic, A.K.A. Yamada Hizashi.

Quirk: Voice

-Gives the user the ability to augment their voice drastically, which causes a blowback not unlike the backlash of an explosion without the fire.

Well Known Drawbacks:

-Inability to direct sound manually, see Directional Speaker for elaboration.

-Quirk overuse results in loss of voice for an indeterminate amount of time.

-Extreme overuse causes bleeding in the hypopharynx, the lowest part of the pharynx, and extreme stress to the vocal fold (the vocal cords). Can be deadly, i.e. choking on his own blood, or permanently damaging, i.e. loss of voice entirely, and therefore loss of quirk.

Hizashi nearly chokes when he reads that. He kept that information confidential, it’s only happened maybe twice in his career! And this kid either watched enough of his videos to figure that out, or he just made an educated guess. He decides to skip ahead as he feels everyone watching his reactions.

Possible Mutations:

-Heightened ear protection. Edit: Evidence of loss of hearing, subject could be vulnerable to his own Voice, but not extreme sounds outside of his person.

-Target like eye configuration, common in quirks that have to do with sight, i.e. Scope- See Pro Hero Snipe, Volume 9. Subject may be able to see the sound waves he can produce.

Hizashi's fingers graze his glasses, which he’s used his entire life to block out the very sound waves he can see because they used to overwhelm him as a child. He never takes them off for that very reason. How did this child know that? He skips ahead.

Possible Uses:

-Echolocation- production of sound waves that provide the person or animal the ability to ‘see’ by processing the indications of sound waves.

-Ability to raise pitch, such as using ultrasonic soundwaves that the average human without a quirk to process it can’t hear.

He skips ahead.

Support Equipment:

He skips ahead.

Ways for improvement:

Best matches for Team Ups:

How to take him out without a qu-

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

“We need to find this child.” Hizashi grits out between clenched teeth. This is insane. One kid came up with all of this? Some of this, not even professional analysts ever thought of. Wait. “Volume ten? There’s more of these laying around?”

“Yes. It’s his only hobby these days.” Inko says fondly. “His first one was in crayon, it was so adorable I never discouraged him from keeping it up.”

“Inko,” Nezu says. “If I may have your permission, I would like to look through recent emails or text messages your son received.”

“Why?” Inko asks, curious.

“The hero we told you about, Eraserhead, received an email with that code minutes before he left the station and subsequently went missing.” Tsukauchi explains. “There was no evidence in previous emails, deleted or otherwise, to indicate what the message means. There might be something hidden in your son’s phone or computer to give us more to go off of.”

“Well, if you’re sure it’ll help.” Inko cautiously replies. “But I want to be kept in the loop, even if the case goes cold. This is my son we’re talking about.”

“Very well.” Nezu says kindly. He’s scribbling on a piece of paper, which he hands to Inko right after. “This is my personal phone. If you come up with anything that may be useful, call me immediately. I’ll do the same for you.”

“Thank you.” Inko responds, sniffling again.

“Yamada will take you back to your home. I hope you understand, but we must confiscate those notebooks. Having them out in the open is very dangerous.”

“I understand. I didn’t realize they were so good. I never understood half of what Izuku was talking about, I never understood quirks as well as he does. He gets it from his father.” Inko says.

“Is there any way Izuku might have gone to his father?” Hizashi asks.

“Oh no, his father has been absent for almost his entire life. I don’t even have a way to contact him anymore. Last I heard he moved to America, but I always suspected he was lying.” Inko explains. “Izuku’s never even met the man. Hisashi never even held him.”

For some reason the thought makes him upset. Who would just abandon such a brilliant- if a little terrifyingly so- child like Izuku?

“Very well then.” Nezu says. “Thank you for coming all this way. If you have any questions, feel free to call at any time, no matter the hour.”

“Thank you as well, it means a lot to me that you’ll be helping find my son.” Inko says as she stands up, dipping into a low bow. Hizashi stands as well, and when he turns around, he suddenly remembers the kid that was brought along.

“I need to take Touya home, so I’ll be on my way as well.” Tsukauchi says, standing and holding the door open. Touya, however, hesitates.

“Can I see the notebook real quick?” Touya asks hesitantly.

“Why?” Nezu asks. The kid shrugs noncommittally.

“Curiosity’s sake I guess.” Touya answers. He tugs nervously as one of his sleeves.

“Very well then.” Nezu says, and hands the kid the notebook. He flips through it quickly before landing somewhere in the middle. His eyebrows furrow deeply as he reads, but otherwise his expression remains blank. It’s a few minutes of awkward silence as the kid reads quickly.

After a few moments, the kid hands the notebook back with just a vague “Huh” to say about it.

“Thank you sir.” Touya says, saying nothing more before giving a quick bow and walking out. Tsukauchi looks suspiciously at him as he walks by, before giving another goodbye and walking out. Hizashi decides not to dwell on that strangeness as he gives Inko a kind smile.

“Well then, allow me to drive you home.”

The drive is quiet except for the few sniffles that escape Inko. Hizashi plays the radio softly to fill the silence, and before he knows it, the two of them are pulling up to an apartment building. He walks the young woman to her apartment in order to pick up the rest of the notebooks upon Nezu’s request, and he’s just about to leave when he’s stopped by a hesitant voice.

“Um, Mr.Yamada?” Inko says. She’s chewing on her lip in a nervous tick before she seems to gather her courage. “Would you like to stay for tea?”

Hizashi almost declines, but then he sees the hope in her eyes. She seems so lonely at that moment, and Hizashi has a bleeding heart. Besides, what else would he do? Take the notebooks to UA and then go home to an empty apartment with only a depressed cat for company? Lay in bed and cry alone as he waits for the time to leave for his radio show?

Hizashi doesn’t even hesitate any longer as he closes the front door, kicks his shoes back off, and walks back inside, setting the box of notebooks on the floor to be grabbed later. “I would love a cup of tea. And please, call me Zashi. Do you have chamomile?”

Inko smiles brightly for the first time since they’ve met only a few hours before. “I do!”

Chapter Text

Izuku thinks they’re making good progress at this point. 

He decided to hold off on Toga's rescue until they found Twice, or Bubaigawara Jin, so that they could make it happen at the same time. He remembers Toga becoming more unhinged when Twice died, so maybe by doing them both at the same time, at the very least they’ll have friends with each other. 

Meanwhile, they’ve been systematically tearing apart All For One’s laboratories. 

The third one they found happened to be a goldmine, seeming like the main or one of the main labs. When they raided it, Izuku managed to find some information on other locations around the country, and three of them started from Hokkaido and moved down the country to take them out one by one. It’s grueling work though. 

They’ve hardly allowed for a break in between labs, not wanting to give All For One the chance to catch on fast enough that he can clean house and move locations. For almost a month, every night was a new lab. Constantly moving, constantly working. They’ve barely had time to rest other than when on the train or ferries to move in between the main island and the surrounding ones. If it wasn’t for the fact that Hitoshi had stolen so much money from his last foster parents, and the fact that they take money from the occasional drug or trafficking rings they bust, they would be starving too. 

Either way, their luck is starting to run out. 

There are just so many labs, and honestly, he’s not even completely surprised about it. There were just way too many Nomu already made when the War broke out, a single lab couldn’t hold so many. But because there’s so many labs, they’ve only made it halfway down the main island before some of the labs were already cleaned out. At this point, every other lab they raid is a bust. Within the rest of the month, all of them will be moved to new locations. 

Not to mention, All For One has clearly caught on to them. 

Already there’s been a handful of times where traps have been laid in a cleared out lab. They almost didn’t make it out of the last one, since one of the villains decided to try and be a suicide bomber. 

On top of that the media caught wind of them as well. 

The Snakes, they’re calling them. Perhaps to connect the fact that all three- or four if you count Izuku’s hackersona- have vigilante names that start with S. Someone even made a logo for them. It’s relatively simple, but it’s still pretty cool. The English number four open at the top, connected and intertwined with the English letter S, with the image of a snake weaving through the cracks, the head of the snake laying lazily on the slanted line of the four. It’s cool, and sweet, and obviously fan made since none of the three of them would make a logo for themselves. Being recognized like this is nice, but strange.

Almost like they’re heroes. 

That’s what gets Izuku all twisted. They are very well known as vigilantes, and for the most part, even if the public loves a vigilante, the media will always vilify them. Try to sway the public opinion against the vigilante and back towards licensed heroes. But instead of doing that to Izuku, Hitoshi and Shouta, they treat the three of them like actual Pro’s on the billboard. 

Sequence’s posts have been linked back to him, so now every time Sequence posts something about Endeavor or the Commission or other corrupt heroes, the post goes viral instantly. Which is great and all, except now Izuku has to be extra careful about what he posts and when. The reason he’s not waging all out war on the Commission already is because he doesn’t want to destabilize the country all at once. 

Hence the anonymous posting. 

That way, the posts slowly grow more popular over time. Thus allowing Izuku to slowly sway public opinion without causing riots in the streets and protests and public outcry and unrest. But whoever the hell keeps linking Izuku’s posts to Sequence is not. Helping. There’s already been reports of protests growing across the country about the Commission and Endeavor’s misdeeds. It’s only a matter of time until peace turns violent, and calm turns bloody. 

If Izuku isn’t careful, he’ll have multiple massacres staining his hands red. 

Izuku will just have to slow his posting rate at this point. And given his plans were already extended over the allotted time they have to be vigilantes and then go home, he’ll be thirty by the time he gets it all done. That’s way too long of a time for someone who is better at hacking than him can link Sequence to Izuku, and if someone links Sequence to Izuku, he’ll have to go into hiding. 

There’s a reason not all of the people trained by the Commission go into heroics after all, and Izuku likes living, thank you very much. 

There’s still so much left to do and just not enough time. That’s all it comes down to, time. How much time until All For One gets bold and irritated and decides to come for them himself? How much time until the Commission does the same? How much time until the heroes catch on to them, figure out their- well disguised if Izuku says so himself- patterns and manages to catch, or worse kill, them all? 

How much time until there’s no time left to give?

“Izu, stop stressing so much.” Hitoshi whispers beside him tiredly. They’re on a train bound towards Shizuoka so they can stop in at the base for their first real shower and break in a month. Izuku’s on his laptop, trying to contain the madness of his own posts. Maybe at this point he should start making posts complimenting the Commission and Endeavor in order to hold the chaos at bay. “Seriously man. It’ll be fine. After a good night’s sleep or two, you can use that big brain of yours to find a solution to the problems.”

“Toshi, it’s all moving too fast. And that’s coming from someone who had over three years completely mapped out by the hour.” Izuku whispers back. “If this keeps up, we’ll be in a whole new apocalyptic era from before and it’ll be all my fault.”

“Problem Child, he’s right.” Shouta says, plopping a heavy arm around his shoulders and pulling Izuku into his side for a lazy hug. They’re all tired. Even though Mei and Izuku designed these suits to hold up to almost everything, bruises still happen, cuts still happen. It’s a wonder none of them have gotten a broken bone yet. Which is great, because having to be down a member while they heal from a break will be dangerous. 

But it also means that Karma is about to bite them in the ass. 

And that makes Izuku worried. Karma has never liked Izuku. All of his life, for everything good that happened, two bad things happened to counter it. Kacchan gets his quirk, a good thing! Izuku is quirkless and Kacchan becomes a bully. All Might offers him One For All, a great thing! The quirk breaks his bones for months and his class gets attacked by villains. Hitoshi is transferred into 2-A, a wonderful thing! War breaks out and the Nomu-apocalypse happens. Izuku has a civilian give him the chance to go back in time and fix things, a miracle!  Izuku has to abandon his mother, fight for his life everyday, and have the fate of the world resting on his shoulders at all times. 

At this point, why does he even bother?

“Relax kiddo.” Shouta breathes out, squeezing him tighter into Shouta’s side. “You aren’t alone in this, alright? You have the two of us by your side, pretty sure Nezu is smitten with your hackersona at this point, and even the media likes us.”

“I’m just scared it’s not enough. I mean, what about the eventual fight with All For One, how the hell are gonna manage that? Two non offensive quirks and a quirkless against a man with so many quirks at his disposal it’s ridiculous? Not gonna work. And then there’s Shigaraki. What if we didn’t go back far enough to help him, save him? I don’t want to kill him, but what if we have to? And then there’s the media always getting in the way, and UA still looking for you, and the Commission will surely be making their first move by now. Not to mention we still have to deal with Endeavor, and coming up with believable stories that will pass by Tsukauchi’s quirk with ease. And Overhaul will have Eri in hand by the end of the year at the earliest, and what about One For All? Will I be able to convince All Might to give me the quirk again? I only got lucky last time! And not to mention we still haven’t located Twice, Toga still needs help and-” Izuku is cut off when Hitoshi cuffs him lightly upside the head, nearly knocking his hood off. Izuku quickly grabs it to pull it back down before he can be exposed.

“Woah there motormouth.” Hitoshi huffs in amusement. “Like Dad said, you aren’t alone. Let us carry some of the burden will you?”

“I’m sorry it’s just that-”

“You’re a worrier, I get it.” Hitoshi says softly. Izuku tilts his head to see the soft look Hitoshi is giving him. “But we still have time, Izu. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know?”

“The saying is actually ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day but they were laying bricks every hour’ which means-”

“Izuku.” Hitoshi cuts him off again, exasperated and fond. “Not the point. The point is, these things don’t need to happen right away. Worse comes to worse, we end up continuing the job past the Entrance Exams, whether by staying missing or by doing so at night.”

“But what if-”

“Stop it brat, the what if’s will drive you insane.” Shouta adds. “Just lay your head on my shoulder, close your eyes, relax for once in your goddamn life, and then we can pick up where we left off later.”

Izuku sighs, and looks at the open laptop on his lap. It’s been given the Hatsume Special, making it untraceable and unhackable, able to hack, code, run traces, etc. It’s still open on his latest post, comments and reactions steadily flooding the screen before being pushed down to make way for new ones before he can even really read any. 

He’s so tired. 

Maybe… maybe it’ll be okay to relax. But only for one day. That’s it, any more and they’ll be grossly behind schedule. So Izuku closes the laptop and slips it into his bag at his feet. 

“Okay.” Izuku mumbles. As ordered, he lays his head on Shouta’s shoulder, feeling warm and safe beneath the man’s heavy arm, and he lets his eyes slip closed. They’ll wake him if anything happens. 

“That’s my boy.” Shouta whispers, running his hand lazily up and down Izuku’s arm. Izuku wants to cry at the words. He hasn’t been called that in… so long. All Might, Toshinori, was the only one who ever called him that once upon a time. The words make his heart ache something fierce, but he just curls closer into Shouta’s side and lets his mind go quiet. 

(The image of the logo, made by my platonic soulmate Ember, say hi to them everyone! Isn't it awesome!?)

Chapter Text

Shouto has never been the type to rely on other people, but for this he thinks he’ll make an exception.

Detective Tsukauchi, a plain looking man, was the one who made him change his mind. It’s only been a few weeks since their secret meetings started- Shouto, his siblings and the Detective, that is. Even so, a few weeks of short meetings inside or outside of the house where Endeavor can’t possibly overhear has made Shouto hope for far more than just a few days without bruises.

The first time Tsukauchi approached them, Endeavor had been called away on a case for a few days.

Shouto has a love/hate relationship with missions that keep his father away for days or weeks at a time. On one hand, he gets the chance to heal and rest and actually be somewhat of a normal kid. On the other hand, he’s forced to train ten times more to make up for ‘lost time’ when his father returns home.

Normally at times like those, where he’s free of his father if only for a limited time, Shouto likes to do things normal kids usually do.

Or try to anyway.

He once convinced Fuyumi to take him to an arcade, but it was loud and crowded, with screaming children, and the games were hard to understand. Fuyumi was no help in that regard seeing as she was never given a normal childhood either. Natsuo would have been a better choice for that particular attempt.

Most of the time though, he likes to go to the park. Find somewhere secluded but where he could still watch the people, maybe take a book or something with him. It’s peaceful when he goes, because he can be around other kids his age without having to interact. His favorite thing to do at the park is sketch.

It’s a guilty pleasure, one he hides from Endeavor religiously.

Fuyumi is the one who holds onto his sketch pads and pencils, hiding them under a loose floorboard underneath her bed. She gave them to Shouto after Touya’s death to help cope with the abuse, so she keeps them as safe as possible in her room. This way, when Endeavor decides to do a random room check on Shouto, he has nothing incriminating to find. It’s where Shouto keeps all of his precious things. A single, small, All Might figurine. A picture of his older siblings and mother from before he was born. And most important of all, the only stuffed animal he ever owned, a small red panda bear, because Touya liked that it matched his hair.

Now that little space is where they hide the evidence they gather against Endeavor.

Which brings him back to the detective, Tsukauchi. He approached them when only Fuyumi and Shouto were home, Natsuo having used the chance of their father being gone to hang out with some friends. Fuyumi, who’s doing online classes so she can be home for Shouto, was in the middle of cooking lunch. It was Shouto who answered the door. Tsukauchi, standing on the doorstep, was blunt and to the point.

He’s building a case against Endeavor for abuse and wants their help.

Those were the exact words. For two hours, Tsukauchi and Fuyumi spoke in riddles that Shouto didn’t understand as he pleaded his case. He even gave Fuyumi a briefcase full of files. Shouto wasn’t supposed to be listening, his sister having told him to go upstairs. Shouto, of course, didn’t obey. Why would he? A stranger was in their home, saying he knew about the abuse, and wanted to help get them out from under Endeavor’s thumb.

It was the best hope for freedom Shouto has had since Touya died.

Ever since that day, Fuyumi takes him and Natsuo to meet Tsukauchi at a small cafe away from Endeavor’s route when he’s home, and invites him into the house when Endeavor’s sure to be away for a day or two for a mission.

There’s only been one instance of a close call.

Endeavor had come home early, and nearly caught Tsukauchi. The only reason he didn’t was because someone, and Shouto doesn’t know who, warned Tsukauchi ten minutes before Endeavor arrived. He doesn’t think he’s seen Fuyumi so panicked before, and he’s definitely never seen her turn off her emotions so quickly. They had only just managed to get Tsukauchi out the back door and off the property, everything back in order, and Shouto and Natsuo back into their rooms before the slam of the front door happened.

For three hours the pain of training was drowned out by the adrenaline and fear of the close call.

Now, the five of them, Shouto and his siblings, Tsukauchi and another person, are arranged to meet up at a different place than usual. Tsukauchi said he had someone he wanted them to meet. It’s a good day for a meeting, in Shouto’s opinion. Endeavor is doing a few press conferences all the way in Shimane, two whole regions away. So he’ll be gone for a few days.

Shouto waits patiently for the last two of the group to show up.

Fuyumi and Natsuo are both with him, browsing the menu. Shouto doesn’t bother. Endeavor only left this afternoon, and he squeezed in one last training session before he left. Shouto had taken a pretty strong hit to the stomach, and he knows better than to eat heavy with this kind of bruising. He already feels nauseous just by the smell of other people’s food. The restaurant is relatively fancy. The tables are rather close, but with the noise of the restaurant around them, Shouto’s sure they could yell at each other, and only the immediate surrounding tables will hear.

It’s certainly different from the other meetings with the detective.

Usually it’s in a small cafe that doesn’t get much business, so it’s more private and less likely for people to overhear. Tsukauchi always picks up the check, never letting Fuyumi pay. He says it’s because he doesn’t want the purchases to show up on Endeavor’s bank statement, but Shouto thinks he just wants to treat them. He’s a very kind man.

Another thing out of the ordinary, is the fact that Tsuakuchi is bringing a guest.

Usually the man says that he wants things to stay private until they have enough to proceed, not wanting to risk even a chance of Endeavor catching wind or walking away scot free. Which will be difficult, given Endeavor’s status as the number two pro hero. But something must be different now.

Maybe they finally have enough to nail Endeavor?

Fuyumi has taken photo evidence of every burn, every bruise, every cut on Shouto’s body, recorded diligently with date, time, and location of injury to go with them. Every possible way that Endeavor has abused them, between neglect and physical abuse, all the way to financial and emotional abuse, is all recorded by his sister. They’ve brought this week’s stack of evidence with them to hand over to Tsukauchi as well.

If only the man were here.

It makes Shouto nervous. Tsukauchi is never the last one to arrive, he’s always there long before any of them. Sometimes more than an hour even. So why is he suddenly late? Did Endeavor catch on? Was there a last minute emergency? Did he give up on the case all together?

Luckily for Shouto’s sanity, he doesn’t wait long to find out.

“I apologize for being late. My guest took too long to get ready for the meeting.” Tsukauchi says kindly, removing the hat from his head and taking a seat across from Shouto and his siblings. Shouto looks around discreetly, but he sees no guests.

“Where are they?” Fuyumi asks. She’s become far more confident ever since this all started. With someone to believe her and help her, she seems far less anxious and stressed than Shouto has ever known her to be. Even with Mother still around she was never so relaxed around anyone.

“I had them wait in the car, I didn’t want to surprise you all too much.” Tsukauchi explains. He slips his coat off and lays it on the back of his chair before folding his hands neatly on the table. “The person I’ve brought with me today is the person who informed me about your home situation. I feel now is the perfect time to reintroduce you to him.”

“Reintroduce?” Natsuo asks. “So we know this guy?”

“You do. Although how much Shouto remembers I don’t know.” Tsukauchi responds. He pulls out a file from his briefcase and slides it across the table. Shouto is the first one to grab it, his sibling sitting on either side of him so they can read over his shoulder. The picture at the front of the file when he opens it is familiar, and painfully so.

“Touya? Why do you have a picture of Touya?” Fuyumi demands. Now that Shouto looks closer, he realizes that yes, this is his eldest brother. It’s an older photo, of course, given he looks so young and unscarred in it. Tsukauchi silently reaches across the table to place another photo beside his brother’s. The people in the photo are almost the exact same.

In the second photo, the person is older, like he’s already an adult, with dyed black hair that is fading into white at the roots. Just like Touya’s. The person in the second photo is smiling brightly, one hand up and rubbing at the back of his neck. His arms have fading burn scars on them. And the bright, ice blue eyes of Endeavor stare back at them through the photo.

“How is this- where did you get this?” Fuyumi asks, pulling the file closer to herself, trembling fingers brushing against the second photo.

“I took it myself, just yesterday.” Tsukauchi says gently. “Touya showed up on my doorstep one day, thanks to a few vigilantes, and he told me everything.”

“That’s impossible.” Natsuo bites out. Shouto looks at him to find tears in his eyes and his teeth bared like an animal. “Our brother is dead.”

“Actually, I’m not.” A new voice says from behind them. Shouto turns around to find the person in the second photo standing with his hands in his pants pockets, a light blue jacket, and black hair fading into white at the roots. Fuyumi gasps beside him.

“Touya, I asked you to wait in the car.” Tsukauchi says, but he doesn’t sound mad. Shouto doesn’t know what he sounds like, but it isn’t anger.

“You took too long and I got impatient.” Touya fires back. He looks over Shouto, Natsuo and Fuyumi, landing on Fuyumi last. “Hey Yumi, long time no see.” His voice becomes extremely soft when he says it, and that’s why he knows this is the real Touya. It’s the same voice he used all those years ago to comfort Shouto after a training session.

He still hears that voice in his dreams some nights.

“Touya? Is it really you?” Fuyumi whispers. She stands from her chair, raising her hands to lightly hold Touya’s face. Almost immediately after she touches him she bursts into tears, attracting unwanted attention from the nearby tears. Shouto uses an Endeavor patented stare to force every last one of them to mind their business.

“You always were a bit of a crybaby huh?” Touya responds, pulling her in gently, opening his arm for Natsuo when he makes a dive out of his seat. Shouto suddenly feels his nausea stir and he looks away. It’s only when a hand settles into his hair gently that he looks back up again.

“Hey there small fry. You sure grew up huh?” Touya whispers to him. Shouto doesn’t know how to respond, so he just stares. Touya’s eyes soften, looking less and less like Endeavor’s by the second. He straightens up slowly and urges Fuyumi and Natsuo back into their seats, taking one beside Tsukauchi across the table.

Shouto doesn’t let him out of his sight.

“I know you all want to interrogate Touya,” Tsukauchi says gently. “So let’s get business out of the way first.”

“Right,” Fuyumi sniffs, using her napkin to clean her face. “Of course. I have this week’s evidence with me.”

Tsukauchi takes the file when she hands it to him with a smile. “Thank you.” He looks at Touya. “Touya?”

Touya takes a deep breath before his face grows serious. “Alright, listen. The files we have from the vigilantes are enough to take Endeavor to trial.”

“The plan is to bring him in on charges related to his hero work.” Tsukauchi says, picking up where Touya left off. Shouto finds himself watching them, together. They’re very familiar with each other. “Once we have him for those charges, that’s when we’ll bring up the charges relating to his abuse.”

“I’m the pinch hitter.” Touya says. Shouto wants to ask what a pinch hitter is, but he refrains. “We’ll start with Mom as a witness. However, due to her being in a mental hospital, no one will truly take her seriously. Then we’ll bring in Yumi and Natsu to corroborate her story. Shouto, if you’re up for it, of course, we won’t force you. You will be the one to bring to light all of the physical evidence. The bruises, the burns, all of it. And just as we have the jury and judge on our side, I’ll come in to serve the final blow.”

“Why you?” Shouto asks before he can stop himself. Touya’s grin is almost terrifying when he responds.

“I’m the dead child walking. As soon as I’m brought in, with all the tests to confirm my biological relation to Endeavor, there’s no way a jury would deny us a win.”

“The problem we have right now,” Tsukauchi says. “Is that if I register him in the system, Endeavor may catch wind of the case. And we haven’t been able to secure a secret meeting with Rei. That’s where Fuyumi comes in.”

“What can I do?” Fuyumi asks. Her face looks like she’s fixing to go to war. It nails home to Shouto just how much a little bit of hope can do for a person. Here is his sister, the walking ball of anxiety and fear and worry, who doesn’t even speak louder than a whisper when Endeavor is home, ready to face the man in court with all she has.

Shouto thinks he wants to be that kind of person.

Someone who instills hope into others when their hope is dying inside of them. Someone who makes people feel not only safe, but strong enough to stand up for themselves. That’s the kind of hero he wants to be.

And that’s a strange thought to have.

He hasn’t wanted, actually wanted, to be a hero since he was five years old and the training began. Not if that’s what Endeavor wanted from him. He didn’t want to be a hero because that’s what Endeavor decided he would be. But now he wants that, he wants to be a hero so he can inspire the kind of hope that gives his meek sister so much strength.

“If you could visit your mother in the hospital and record an interview with her, that would be perfect. I’ll have a list of questions and follow up questions for you to read from, as well as the proper words to say when you start the interview so it’s not thrown out.” Tsukauchi says. “However, there is one condition that we cannot avoid.”

“And that is?” Fuyumi asks.

“Only a detective can take an interview of a witness and have it be permissible in court.” Touya says. There’s a short silence among the table as Shouto switches from looking at Touya to looking at Fuyumi. Her face moves in a range of emotions he can’t understand before she responds.

“Are you saying I’ll have to be a licensed detective to get this interview on recording for us to use?” Fuyumi asks. Tsukauchi shifts in his chair.

“That is correct.”

“Alright. What would I have to do?” Fuyumi finally answers after considering it for a while. Touya breathes an audible sigh of relief.

“I can pull some strings to have the option of testing for Detective early, but the officer exam is all on you.” Tsukauchi says, pulling out another file and handing it to her. When he reads over his sister’s shoulder, he sees a training regimen, a meal plan, a study guide likely for common laws, and an application form before she closes the folder.

“How long will this take?” Fuyumi asks.

“The next officer’s exam is in two month’s time. If you can manage to pass the test on the first try, I can have you as a detective in two weeks after that. Everything you need for both exams are in that folder.” Tsukauchi says. Shouto is a bit skeptical. How will his sister, as smart as she is, manage to pull this off? And still do her online classes for college?

“Fuyumi.” Shouto says quietly. “You don’t have to force this. I can handle training for longer than two months if you need. You don’t even have to take the exams, we can find another way.”

Fuyumi looks at him for a long moment. “I think I’ve sat on the sidelines long enough Sho. I’ll take the exam in two months, and I’ll pass it in flying colors. Both of them.” She gives him a reassuring smile, but he can’t help but still worry.

“Don’t worry little brother.” Touya says. “I’ll help her every step of the way. We’ll get you out of there in no time.”

“Thank you Touya.” Fuyumi says warmly. Shouto still doesn’t feel right about this, but if his siblings are absolutely sure, then who is he to deny them the chance?

“In the meantime,” Natsuo says. “I’ll help out more around the house so Fuyumi has more time to study and train. It’s my turn to take care of you.” Natsuo ruffles his hair, making Shouto scowl and try to fix his part again.

“I understand it’s a lot to ask for Fuyumi.” Tsukauchi says, but Fuyumi cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

“Nonsense, for everything you’re doing for us, this is nothing in comparison.”

“Why are you doing this?” Shouto asks the detective. It’s something he’s wanted to ask from the beginning. “You didn’t even know us.”

Touya smiles gently, stopping Tsukauchi from answering with a hand on his shoulder. “You know,” He starts. “I asked the same thing once. Those vigilantes who helped me? I asked them the same thing.”

“And what did they say?” Shouto asks.

“They said, we don’t have to know you to know you deserve a chance.” Touya says. Tsukauchi smiles at Touya in the way Fuyumi sometimes smiles at him. Soft and proud and kind.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Chapter Text

Running into Twice while on a basic patrol in Toyama was not something Shouta had planned.

He had only gone out to get rid of some of his excess energy after another failed raid on a lab. Izuku decided after this to move onto another path to interfere with All For One’s plan, especially since Shouta himself narrowly avoided being impaled through the stomach. So Izuku is back on the computers in the base back in Gifu looking for leads. Hitoshi went to Nagano to do the same as Shouta, just random patrols at night.

Being seperated like this makes Shouta nervous, but at least something good came of it.

Twice was in an alleyway deep into the maze of buildings, and the only reason Shouta found him was because he had to run from a hero and used the maze of alleys to throw them off. He nearly tripped over Twice, literally. It was only because of his reflexes that he saved himself from a face plant into dirt.

Twice flinches from him when he turns to face him, hands clutched desperately around his head. His nails dig in almost enough to draw blood and Shouta’s heart hurts. Katsuki did that too, once upon a time.

Shouta can’t remember how many times he had to help Katsuki after blood caked in his hair from his own nails.

When Katsuki first lost his hearing, that was when it was the worst. He would tear and claw and rip the skin on and around his ears apart when in the middle of a breakdown. For weeks, no months, it was all Shouta could do to keep checking Katsuki’s head for fresh marks every day. This time, when the time comes, he’ll do better. He’ll help Katsuki more.

But right now, it’s time to help Twice.

“Hey.” Shouta whispers, voice modulator off. Twice flinches again, whimpering quietly as his nails dig in harder. Shouta crouches before the young man slowly, settling on his heels. “It’s okay. Can I touch you?”

Twice, wheezing and trembling, nods his head once. Shouta scoots closer, slowly reaching out a hand to take a hold of Twice’s hands. His fingers wrap tightly around Shouta’s hands when he removes them from his head. Shouta ends up sitting on the alley ground across from Twice, bracketing the man’s legs with his own.

“Follow my lead, yeah?” Shouta says, still quiet. There’s still a hero looking for him after all, he’d rather not draw their attention by being loud. Plus, gentleness is always the way to go with someone breaking down. Once upon a time he was never the one to help in situations like this, it was always Sunshine’s job. But after decades of helping his kids through nightmares and panic attacks and flashbacks, he thinks he can be considered a pro at this point. Slowly, Shouta leads Twice into breathing evenly, if still a little weak and wheezy. “There we are.” He says softly, using the voice he used for Eri Before, when she was still small enough he could pick her up with ease.

“Who-” Twice gasps out, but never finishes the question out loud as he struggles to regain his even breathing.

“Easy now. No need to speak just yet. I’m Soldier, a vigilante just doing his best. Would you like a hug?” Shouta asks. Twice hesitates but nods eventually and Shouta maneuvers beside him to hold Twice to his side. He gently manipulates the young man into curling into his side, tucking his head into Shouta’s neck the way he does for Izuku.

Izuku isn’t really tactile when panicking, he doesn’t like feeling trapped.

This way, holding Izuku- and now Twice- into his side, Izuku can still get the physical comfort he needs, while still feeling free enough not to panic all over again. Twice relaxes quickly into Shouta’s side, slowly but surely loosening the hold on Shouta’s fingers. They sit in silence for a while until Twice’s breaths stop wheezing.

“Sorry.” Twice mutters into his neck before trying to move away. Shouta lets him, but he doesn’t let Twice let go of his hands just yet.

“Don’t worry about it, friend.” Shouta says lightly. “What’s your name?”

“Bubaigawara Jin, but you can call me Jin. It’s easier.”

“Like I said, my codename is Soldier. Do you have somewhere to go?” Shouta asks. Jin shudders.

“No.” He admits. Shouta hums lightly, having expected that.

“Okay. Let me message my friends to let them know what’s going on and then I’ll take you somewhere safe.” Shouta says, already pulling out his phone.

Tired: Found Twice, what’s next?

Problem: That's great! Take him to a hotel for the night, I’ll figure something out in the meantime. Stay with him.

Menace: So should I make contact with Toga?

Problem: That would be best, yes.

Menace: Roger that boss

Problem: I’m not your boss!

Problem: Toshi?

Problem: Toshi!

Problem: Get back here asshole

Menace: Sorry ur breaking up

Problem: This is texting!

Problem: Toshi!

Tired: Behave, both of you.

Shouta snorts as Izuku starts spamming their group chat with angry messages. Hitoshi should really stop riling the kid up. He’ll find a way to get revenge on Hitoshi, and Shouta genuinely doesn’t want to deal with that mess.

“Alright, we’re good to go.” Shouta says. “Do you mind if I stay with you tonight just to be sure you’re alright?”

Twice- Jin- looks at him oddly. “Are you sure?” Shouta nods. “Okay.”

Shouta leads them out of the alley maze and back onto the street, only pausing to have Jin turn around so Shouta can flip his jacket inside out and put the hood up. They head to a motel for the night, getting a single room. Jin fidgets on the bed when they get inside while Shouta seats himself on the chair by the window. He keeps the curtains down but pulls it just enough so he has a sliver to look out.

“Um.” Jin says, making Shouta look back at him. His hood is up to shade his face just enough to conceal some of his features. “You-you don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.” Shouta doesn’t respond for a minute, just observing. Jin is nothing like the deranged man who joined the league. From what he remembers of Twice, he had a disocciative identity disorder and the switch between alters was quick and often, even happening mid sentence. Right now, Jin doesn’t seem to have it so bad, but they’ve only been around each other for the latter half of an hour or two.

“What was your attack about?” Shouta asks bluntly. Goddammit, he’s still no good at talking to strangers. This is why the plan was to let Izuku interact with Twice, while Shouta provides backup. Jin startles at the new question and his fidgeting becomes worse. In that moment, Shouta is reminded again of another of his kids, Denki this time.

Denki was always fidgeting and stimming because of his ADHD.

If Shouta had known the younger versions of his enemies would remind him so much of his kids, he would have been a hell of a lot more prepared. Now he’s kind of winging it, trying to keep in the present as memories of his kids threaten to send him into his own breakdown.

“The voices were arguing and I don’t like it when they argue.” Jin eventually whispers. Ah, so more than the two Shouta himself observed?

“Do they argue a lot?” Shouta asks. Jin looks surprised, but he smiles a shaky little smile.

“Not always.” Jin says. “Sometimes they do, but usually they just force their way forward when they want instead of arguing over it. It’s hard to hold them back.”

“I don’t know much about dissociative identity disorders, but I’m pretty sure forcing the alters down isn’t the best course of action.” Shouta responds. “Do you think you need help? Like from a professional?”

Jin shrugs non committedly, but he still answers verbally anyways. “It’s hard to hold a job when they freak people out when they force themselves forward.”

Shouta is no therapist, although he thinks this time around he’ll work towards getting the degree for it to better help his kids. Even so, he may not be a therapist, but the free way Jin talks about his disorder feels weird. Aren’t people usually closed off to strangers, or is Shouta just a little more broken than he thought?

“Doesn’t answer the question Jin.” Shouta scolds lightly. Jin still winces before folding his hands against each other.

“I don’t have the money for a therapist.” Jin mutters. “And the ones I went to when I did have it, they weren’t very nice.”

Shouta hums. “What if I said I had a therapist friend who could help, and who I can vouch for myself? Would you let him help you?”

Jin looks excited for all of a second. “I can’t pay for sessions though.”

Shouta considers Jin for a few more moments. He seems like a good young man who just wants help, but hasn’t really had the chance to accept it. Someone the world and society pushed further and further down a hole before he eventually turned villainy to survive. He wouldn’t be the first case. Toga is just another example of that. Dabi was another.

So many hurt people who would have never turned as villainous as they did if someone had just offered a hand.

“I can take care of it.” Shouta says, although that’s a bit of a lie. Izuku will handle the details. “Tomorrow, if you’re up for it, I have a friend who can set you up.”

“But why? I’m just a strange man you found on the street. Why would you help someone you don’t even know?” Jin asks. Shouta almost wants to laugh at the question. How many times has he been asked this question? Hitoshi, Eri, Izuku, Touya and now Jin? How many more times will he have to answer? How many more times will someone question him on why he just wants to help them?

He answers the same way he’s answered almost every time he’s been asked.

“I don’t have to know you to know you deserve a chance.” Shouta says, and just to soften the blow of the words he adds, “Besides, I like helping people. Even strange men I found having a breakdown in an alley.” Jin giggles a little hysterically, but Shouta still counts it as a win.

See, this talking thing isn’t so hard.

“Now, get some sleep. I’ll be awake all night, so if you need anything, I’m right here.” Shouta says. Jin nods and turns off the lamp that keeps threatening his identity if he lifts his head too much and settles into the bed for a good night’s sleep. Shouta waits until Jin is snoring before pulling out his phone again.

Tired: I want to take him to Hound Dog. He needs and wants help, and I want to give it to him.

Problem: Sounds good to me! I’ll get everything in order so there will be no stress on Twice’s end.

Tired: Jin. He isn’t Twice yet.

Problem: Gotcha. Anything else? Toshi?

Menace: Toga was wary, so it might be a few more visits before she trusts me enough to let me help her.

Problem: Very well. I’ll be sure to have enough yen on your card to cover a long stay in Nagano. Do you need backup?

Menace: Nah, I’m g2g here. Just gotta earn her trust.

Problem: Alrighty. I’ll stay at home base looking for leads on AFO’s operations. Text me if either of you need backup, have a good night!

Tired: Night Problem Child, Menace Child

Menace: Aww dad does care!

Tired: Detention

Shouta smiles as he turns his phone off. This life they’re leading is a lonely one, but at least they have each other.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi isn’t half surprised when Toga nearly bites his hand off at first, quite literally.

He’d found her down the street from her house at a little playground, crying silently, blood smeared over her mouth. Whether it’s her own or not is up for debate, but still. She looks nothing like the deranged Toga he remembers. For one, her iconic hair buns are nowhere to be found, blonde hair long and perfectly straight on her shoulder. A few strands get hung slightly on the metal of the swingset. Her clothes are also more subdued, mainstream, and very much not Toga-like.

It seems to be a running theme with the future villains they find.

Dabi was scarred beyond recognition and mad, a wildness in his eyes that only comes from a broken mind. Touya is shy, distrustful, but still holding onto hope. Hitoshi has dropped by a few times in the weeks it’s been since they took Touya to Tsukauchi’s house. Every time he peeks into the windows of the house, Hitoshi sees something utterly domestic. Most of the time Tsukauchi is doing reports or other paperwork, a pair of glasses barely holding onto his face. Touya is more often than not either playing video games with a bit of wonder in his eyes, or reading with a small content smile. In the same room, doing separate things, but still spending time together.

Hitoshi treasure’s the sight of an old enemy being so happy and not murderous.

Toga looked so sad on the swingset, lazily pushing herself back and forth with bare feet. Hitoshi had approached, making sure to keep his feet heavy to alert her to his presence. When he greeted her with a simple “Hey there,” she bared her fangs at him and bit down on air where his hand had been reaching to touch her shoulder a moment before.

It took everything in him not to immediately attack her.

Even so, after their failed first meeting, Toga became a bit more receptive to his presence. Hitoshi is actually flying across the rooftops, using trees and light poles to help him across the gaps between the suburban homes, on his way to meet with her again for the third night in a row. He comes to the park and drops back to ground level so he can walk like a normal person.

Toga is waiting on the swings as she always is, and Hitoshi drops into the swing beside like he has for three nights now.

“Hey there blondie.” Hitoshi says. She refused to let him know her name, so Hitoshi calls her blondie until she lets him know her name. Even if he knows what her name is, she doesn’t need to know that. “So what’s up for discussion tonight?”

It’s another thing about they’re little conversations. Toga only allows him one topic to talk to her about, and once they run out of things to say on the topic, she leaves. Hitoshi doesn’t mind. He’s got a way with words, he can easily draw out a single basic topic for hours of intelligent conversation. Last night the topic was about homework from school. The night before was weapons and support items. The night before that was about clothes.

He thinks she might be testing out how long before he gets bored and leaves her alone.

“Discrimination.” Toga responds quietly. Hitoshi is almost startled at the topic. Jumping right into it huh? Does this mean she’s starting to trust him?

“Well, I can either talk about my own experiences, or I can talk about statistics. Which would you prefer?” Hitoshi asks, eyeing her reaction. Toga swings her eyes at him widely, the first time she’s actually looked at him since the first meeting.

“Your own experiences?” Toga whispers. He pretends to not see the way she stares at him, and pretends he thinks she meant which choice she would prefer.

“Very well. My entire life I grew up in the foster system, and for years-”

“No wait, I mean, you-” Toga cuts him off. Hitoshi tilts his head at her and waits. “You’re-”

“Like you?” Hitoshi finally says gently. “Yeah. Yeah I am. No one liked my quirk either. I was abused most of my life until someone decided to help me.”

“You know?” Toga says, almost sounding betrayed. “All this time you knew?”

“Well, I only figured it out yesterday.” He didn’t but that’s beside the point. “Like knows like, and I needed to know why I recognized some of the signs. Sorry, but I followed you home last night, I saw what they did.”

Toga stares at him for a few moments longer.

“I know who you are too.” She says.

“Oh do tell.” Hitoshi says, amused.

“You’re one of those new vigilantes who appear all over Japan, aren’t you?” Toga says, strong and confident at first, before finishing nervous and unsure.

“And which one am I?” Hitoshi asks her.

“I think, Silence? Because of the purple?” Toga bites her lip, one fang piercing skin but she just runs her tongue over the little cut absentmindedly. Dear god, Eijiro used to do that.

“Good job, pleasure to meet you officially Miss-” Hitoshi drags out the sentence for her to fill in. Toga smiles weakly.

“Himiko. Call me Himiko.” Hitoshi smiles at her, despite the fact that she can’t even see it.

“Nice to meet you, Himiko.” Hitoshi says. “Now then. Are you ready to get out of that house?”

“What? Where would I go?” Himiko asks incredulously. “I wouldn’t survive on the streets.”

Hitoshi highly doubts that. “I know someone who could help you.”

“But my quirk-”

“Is not an issue. There’s no such thing as villainous quirks. Someone told me that once, and I’ve been so much happier ever since.” Hitoshi says. “Will you let me take you to this person I know? I promise they will definitely help you. They even have a blood based quirk like yours.”

“They do?”

“Yup!” Hitoshi says brightly. “They’re mostly underground, but still.”

“Underground? What do you mean?” Himiko asks sweetly. She’s so adorable. Hitoshi’s more than thirty year old mind just wants to pat her on the head and give her a sucker.

“I mean he’s a hero, and he’ll help you.” Hitoshi explains. Himiko’s eyes light up at the thought of meeting a hero with a quirk like hers.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Hitoshi says. “So? Are you up for it?”

“Yes!” Himiko squeals, looking happier than she has since they’ve met.

“Awesome. Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Hitoshi says, twisting in his swing so they’re facing each other. “Tonight, I want you to go home, pack your things and get some sleep. Tomorrow night when you sneak out like usual, meet me here with your things. I’ll take you to a hotel for the night, and then a friend of mine will have everything set and ready to go. That next day, you’ll be taking your first step into a new life.”

Himiko nods, looking worried.

“Why do you even care? I’m just some girl you met in a park.” Himiko asks.

Hitoshi doesn’t even hesitate to respond this time. “I don’t have to know you to know you deserve a chance.”

Himiko smiles brightly at him, leaving her swing to hug him. “I’m gonna go home and pack right now!”

“You do that.” Hitoshi laughs as she bounces away happily. As soon as she goes inside the house, of which he can the front door from his swing, Hitoshi pulls out his phone.

Menace: Secured Himiko, we’ll have her out of the house tomorrow night, and we’ll be on our way the morning after.

Problem: Gotcha. You told her it would be Vlad King?

Menace: yeah

Problem: Great!

Tired: Update on Jin Toshi, Hound Dog took him in. He’ll be just fine now.

Menace: that’s great dad!

Problem: I’m still doing research on AFO, but maybe one of us could touch base with Tsukauchi about the Endeavor case’s progress?

Menace: I can go 2night. Pretty quiet anyways.

Tired: You sure kiddo? I could go if you don’t want to make the trip there and back to Nagano.

Menace: nah Ive got it

Menace: besides

Menace: i luv messing with the dtctive

Problem: Please stop with the terrible grammar.

Menace: nvr

Hitoshi leaves the park to head all the way back to Mustafu for a late night check in. He’ll probably bring some coffee to get on Tsukauchi’s good side for waking him up though, maybe something sweet for Touya too. Hitoshi’s stomach rumbles loudly in complaint.

Something for himself as well it seems.

He honestly can’t wait for two days from now. They’ve been working diligently to get everything done as fast as possible, and already so much has been accomplished. Himiko will be out of the house and with Vlad King within a matter of days. Touya is off the streets, an investigation into Endeavor being pursued by Tsukauchi as well. Izuku’s hackersona’s posts have already started making changes in the people’s minds, even if far too much at once. Jin is already with Hound Dog and getting the medical attention he needs and deserves. All that’s left of the main league is Spinner, which is still a while yet to be necessary, if it becomes necessary at all, and Shigaraki and Kurogiri.

Compress and Magne were villains long before the league so there’s not much to do there.

Then it’s All For One and his operations. Overhaul and his operations, including the safety of Eri. The Meta Liberation Army will be a hassle. Gigantomachia needs to be located and killed. Izuku wants to save the Water Hose duo next year. Nine needs to be killed too.

God, there’s still so much left to do, and the first year is almost up.

Chapter Text

Todoroki Fuyumi never wanted anything to do with heroes as a career option.

Police work, medical, anything that consistently interacts with heroes was off Fuyumi’s list of things she could do with her life. She chose to be a teacher to maybe help curb some of the darker tendencies in children with powerful quirks, and besides that it would be a peaceful life that pays the bills and let’s her have autonomy. But now, with Touya alive and a chance to free her baby brother, Fuyumi doesn’t care.

She’ll do whatever it takes.

Ever since Mother was sent to the institution and Touya was declared dead, Fuyumi had to be a child, maid, mother, and nurse all at once. Forced to stand by as Shouto was beaten and broken and bruised in a guise of training, only to pick up the pieces when Father let him be. Forced to wrap her baby brother’s injuries, to find ways to get Natsuo out of the house before he could incur Father’s wrath with his rebelliousness, to stand by as her family shatters one by one.

This is her chance to make right what once went wrong.

If that means going through Touya’s hell training and studying relentlessly not only for the police officer’s test and the detective’s test, but also for her teaching degree, then so be it. If it means only sleeping four hours a night in order to make the most of her limited time, then she’ll manage. If it means wanting to climb the tallest building in the city and scream until her throat is bleeding, then no one else has to know.

It’s all for her baby brothers.

Natsuo has been a champ for the past few weeks. Cooking, cleaning, helping Shouto with his injuries and helping her with her studying. He has truly stepped up in Fuyumi’s time of need, and she can’t thank the gods enough for blessing her with such a kind spirited little brother. Shouto is also doing his best. Natsuo’s helping her study for her teaching degree, learning all the material for the day himself so he can teach her when the time comes. Shouto does the same for the detective exams. They’re working so diligently to give Fuyumi half the chance she needs to pull this venture off.

The funny thing is, there isn’t even any guarantee that things will go as planned.

No guarantees, and they still don’t give up hope, still give it their all. Touya runs her body into the ground in order to shape her up enough to be satisfactory for the exams, drilling her on questions pertaining to the two tests she’ll need to take and pass while her muscles strain and her body protests. He doesn’t push her until she breaks like Father does Shouto, but he pushes her nonetheless.

In the two weeks since it’s all started, she has not gone a day without pain.

The day after the first physical training session was hell. Her body ached when she breathed, when she moved, when she didn’t move or held her breath. Muscles she never knew existed were screaming in agony at her. All she wanted was to sleep for three days. If this is a fraction of how Shouto feels after every training session with Father, it only makes her that much more determined.

Her baby brother suffers this every day, she can suffer for a few months.

Fuyumi forces herself out of bed early, too early in the morning. Father isn’t even awake yet, and Father wakes with the sun. Her clock reads three in the morning, and given she only went to sleep at eleven, she wants to turn over and curl up for a few more blessed hours of rest. Instead, Fuyumi forces her groaning body to the floor so she can stretch her aching muscles and go for a run. Touya will meet her at the end of the block, and he gets upset if she’s late.

She has two or three hours until Father wakes.

The first hour will be endurance running, where Touya makes her run as long as she can, in the goal to aim for a full hour. Today is the day she manages it, that’s a promise. Yesterday she tapped out at minute forty seven, so her goal to meet today is the full hour. After their hour-long run there will be another round of intense stretching to cool off. Touya will then run her through multiple reps of sit ups, pushups, pullups, and every workout Fuyumi has never heard of for an hour straight, all while he grills her on her test questions for the officer’s exam.

When the hour is up, it’s a ten minute sprint.

The eventual goal for that will be half an hour, but that won’t be a while yet. She needs to up her speed as well. Touya says when she can consistently sprint for thirty minutes, he’ll start having her wear a bulletproof vest, which weighs a thousand pounds in Fuyumi’s eyes. Then it’s home for breakfast. Natsuo has been waking up early so he can cook and pass it off as Fuyumi’s work. Father will sit for breakfast, and then while he and Shouto are training, Natsuo will grill her on her teaching degree courses. After Shouto’s training, Natsuo will patch Shouto up with Fuyumi’s guidance, and Father will be out of the house. Then the boys are off to school.

For the rest of the day until her family returns, Touya will help her train her quirk, body, and mind in hour-long intervals.

Then it’s time for the boys to come home. Natsuo will begin on dinner, Shouto will do his school work, Fuyumi will do cool down stretches and yoga for flexibility. Before dinner, it’s the detective’s exam studying with Shouto while Natsuo does his school work. After dinner, Natsuo will grill her on her teaching courses, and Shouto will be training with Father. And then into the night, after Father has retired to bed, until eleven pm it’s a mix of studying and training some more.

Rinse and repeat.

Fuyumi is familiar with a scheduled day, she relies on it to keep her sane. Even still, the amount of stress she’s forcing her body through is only relieved on the weekend, where Fuyumi takes the boys out to meet with Touya and Tsukauchi for a day of relaxing and resting with intermittent quizzes on one of her studying regimens.

It’s a lot, to be honest.

She can’t help the slimy dread in her veins as she spots Touya, leaning in a little shadowed area as he usually does. It’s vile, the emotions she’s come to associate with seeing Touya so early in the morning. She hates that small little ball of hatred in her veins that grows as training begins, and fades as it ends, only to grow once more.

Sometimes, she wishes she could be a bit more selfish.

Get a job on the other side of the country to pay for a rundown little apartment while she studies for her degree in the meantime. Cut off communication with all of her brothers and Father as well. Run away, change her name, dye her hair. Fake her death like Touya did even.

She wishes she could be selfish like that sometimes.

The only reason she doesn’t is because of Shouto’s little smile when she answers correctly on one of her detective exam questions. Natsuo’s gentle reminder to rest so she doesn’t kill herself. Touya’s encouraging words as she struggles, with him struggling right alongside her every step of the way. Even Tsukauchi’s pride filled eyes every time they met up for dinner or lunch or a walk in the park with her family.

If her family weren’t there helping her along the way, she would have given up within a day.

So when Touya tells her to start running, she packs that little ball of hatred away and runs like her life depends on it. She forces her body a step further than the day before, Touya recording her progress diligently. Fuyumi keeps going, keeps pushing until she can’t push any further.

She was four minutes shy of the full hour, and she hates it.

Anger is a new feeling for her to experience. Even with all of Father’s flaws, she never felt angry like she does right now. Usually she only feels fear or sorrow, never true fury, true rage. So when Touya says she was four minutes shy of lasting the full hour, the anger burns.

It opens a doorway she’s kept closed her entire life.

When Father started ‘training’ Touya, Fuyumi pushed down her anger, locked it away tightly in a chest hidden in the very back of her mind. When Father started doing the same with Shouto she forced herself to not be angry. When Mother scarred Shouto on his face she wasn’t angry, she couldn’t let herself be angry. Fuyumi has never been allowed to be angry. She was the meek daughter in a house full of broken people. It was her job to take care of everyone.

Help Mother around the house as she slowly becomes more unstable. Patch up Touya and Shouto after training so they don’t get infections or let the wounds fester. Keep Natsuo out of the house so he doesn’t incur Father’s wrath, ever since he was diagnosed quirkless it’s as if he was trying to make Father mad, and maybe he was. There was never anytime to be angry, and she never let herself be.

Without permission, her quirk activates.

Suddenly, her weak little ice quirk is blindingly hot. Ice isn’t supposed to burn, it has never burned her. But right now, in a secluded part of a park where no one is there to see, Fuyumi burns with rage and she burns with ice.

“Yumi!” Touya shouts at her, sounding far too distant. Fuyumi forces her eyes open, unsure of when she shut them, only to have them widen in shock at what she sees before her. The little clearing they’re in is completely frosted over. No, not frosted, frozen. Shards of ice litter the ground, climbs the trees, curls over their heads like claws closing in. Touya stands almost as far as the tree line, the immediate space around him untouched, but only due to the dying blue flames. He’s staring at her in shock.

She stares back.

Fuyumi suddenly comes back to herself with a gasp and she starts to move to Touya’s side to make sure he didn’t burn himself. She’s stopped though by a flicker of white beside her eyes. She raises a hand to the side of her head as she realizes that whatever the white is, that’s what Touya is staring at in shock.

Her hand warms when she touches her hair.

Warmth, for Fuyumi, is a strange thing. Her quirk is a weak ice manipulation quirk. The most she can make is little frost granules. Not shards of ice so thick she can’t see through to the other side. But because her quirk is ice based, she always runs on the colder side. It’s why she prefers to wear sweaters, and have three comforters on her bed. It’s hard to be warm.

Inversely, her twin brother runs so hot she doesn’t think he’s ever felt the need to wear full length pants.

So when Fuyumi removes her warm hand from her warm head, and it comes away with a white flame, she thinks she reacts appropriately. That is to say, she screams and shakes her hand to try and rid herself of the fire that won’t let go.

Then she realizes the white-no, pale blue- fire isn’t exactly burning her.

“Hey Tsukauchi?” Touya says, and when Fuyumi looks up he’s on the phone. “We have a bit of a situation. Can you meet Yumi and I at our clearing? It’s an emergency.”

Fuyumi half listens as she struggles to turn off her new fire quirk oh my god what is happening?

“No, no, no need for an ambulance.” Touya says. “No heroes. It’s a-” He hesitates. “Family matter? Just get here asap man I have no idea what is happening.”

Touya burns the ice away to make a little path to get to her where Fuyumi is trying to keep a steady breathing pattern. She knows an oncoming panic attack when she sees it, and right now is not the time. She can panic later. “Hey Yumi?”

“What?” Fuyumi snaps, and when she does the blue-white flames on her hands get bigger and start to hurt, so she quickly tries to do what Shouto does. Reign in her emotions and lock them up tight.

“Look at me, hey, look at me Fuyumi.” Touya says, gently reaching up to hold her face. She doesn’t like that the normally extremely warm hands of her twin are suddenly not so extremely warm. They just feel like hands. Like a person’s natural body temperature. That freaks her out so much. Her family doesn’t do normal body temperatures. Natsuo is cold even while quirkless. Shouto is both warm and cold, and when he gets sick it’s a nightmare trying to keep him from going into shock at the rapid temperature fluctuations. So why are Touya’s hands not overly warm!?

“Imma need you to calm down.” Touya says with a serious tone she hasn’t heard since that first meeting in the restaurant. “You’re burning yourself, and I need you to calm down so we can extinguish the flames. Okay? That’s not so hard right? Just do it like your ice.”

Do it like her ice? How does she stop the frost?

Fuyumi holds her breath for a moment, before slowly easing on the temperature. With her frost, she has to consciously ‘warm’ herself up, so it should be the opposite right? Thinking cold thoughts while holding her breath, she looks at Touya with watery eyes until he smiles at her. “There we are, there’s my overbearing little sister.”

Fuyumi let go of the breath she was holding with a wheezy laugh.

“What? What happened here?” Tsukauchi says as he climbs over a set of ice spikes with caution. Now that she’s calmed down, she realizes that her body hurts more than normal, particularly around her face. Touya said she was burning herself.

“Yumi had a bit of a quirk awakening.” Touya explains, still holding her chin gently, keeping her eyes on him. She wants to cry. She wants to break down. She wants to scream. “Easy there icicle. You’re burning again.”

“Sorry.” Fuyumi gasps out as she slowly forces the heat back down. She’s so hot now. She’s never been this hot. There’s too many layers of clothes on her to be comfortable. Why is this happening? What is she going to do?

Father can’t know about this.

“Fuyumi.” Tsukauchi says, grabbing her attention from her spiraling thoughts. “We’re going to take you back to my house, and we’ll figure this out okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

Fuyumi nods even if she doesn’t truly feel like everything will be alright. She doesn’t have the time for this. The officer’s exam is only a month and a half away, the detective’s exam right after. This is too much for everything to be alright. Nothing is alright.

How is she going to tell Natsuo?

Oh god, how is she going to tell Shouto?

Seven years. For seven years Father trained him until he broke and trained him some more because Shouto had the ideal quirk of fire and ice. Will he hate her now, knowing that he suffered alone for almost all of it because Fuyumi didn’t have a quirk awakening? And Natsuo! Will Natsuo hate her now too, the quirkless son with not one, not two, but three siblings with strong quirks? They never treated him any different, except for Father, but now? Will they see her differently? Will she lose her family again?

Touya taps her cheek lightly and she almost flinches, a smarting pain racing up her cheek.

“Come on, let’s go home, we can figure this out okay?”

“How?” Fuyumi asks, even as her mind locks onto that word. Home, they want to take her home? Now? With Father sure to wake at the extra commotion, and her brothers still sleeping soundly? How is that a good idea?

“I have some friends who might be able to help, okay? But we have to go somewhere safe, and being out in the open like this is not safe.” Touya says. Fuyumi forces her panicking mind to lock onto Touya’s eyes. Too much like Father’s and yet not at all. Safe. The family estate is not safe. So where is safe?

“Okay.” Fuyumi says. The car ride is a blur, and the only thing she can actually remember from it is the notion that they aren’t going to the estate. Before she knows it, she’s sitting on a couch that’s a little worn from use, with Touya, Tsukauchi, and three people in black outfits. The sun is high when the three people enter the living room, making Fuyumi worry about what’s going on at the family estate. Father is sure to have noticed her being missing, right? And her baby brothers too, do they know? Has anyone told them?

“Fuyumi, good, you’re back with us.” Touya says in relief as he enters with the three people in black. He kneels in front of her, taking her trembling hands in his to hold tightly. “These three people are the vigilantes that saved me, Silence, Secret, and Soldier. They might be able to help. Will you let them help you?”

Fuyumi nods silently.

“Okay.” Touya says. “We called Natsuo and let him know there was a situation that would be explained after school, and he told Endeavor that you had a few errands to run if he asked.”

“Okay.” Fuyumi breathes out. Her shoulder relaxes at the news. One of the people in black takes a chair across from her, one with green accents on his outfit.

“My codename is Secret, I’m a trained analyst. Can you let me see your new quirk?” The persen, Secret, says.

Fuyumi takes a deep breath and wills the fire back to life on her hand, but instead of the pale blue- white color from before, it’s a deep blue that she usually associates with Touya’s flames. Without the threat of a panic attack- which lead to dissociation in the end anyways- Fuyumi stares at the blue fire with a sort of awe. It still makes her nauseous, it still makes her hate herself, but the flame is pretty. Prettier than her frost ever was.

Which she also hates herself for, because this is her father’s quirk.

“I see. Touya, you said that in the initial incident, the flame was white, can you explain in more detail?” Secret says. Fuyumi takes her cue to extinguish the disgustingly pretty flame. It’s a lot easier this time around, almost natural, more natural than her frost has ever been.

“She got angry.” Touya starts, quiet, watching her intensely. “I’ve never seen such anger in her, but she was angry because she didn’t manage to beat her score from yesterday. All of a sudden, there was a rush of ice stronger than she has ever done rushing towards me. And after I melted the ice coming at me, I looked back and she was wreathed in flames as white as snow.”

“You used an interesting choice of words. What do you mean by ‘wreathed’?” Secret asks.

Touya shrugs almost helplessly. “I mean she was wreathed in white flames. Her hair was like it was on fire, her eyes were glowing almost, she-” Touya fumbles as he looks for the right words. “She looked like a burning angel.”

Secret hums in thought, and it makes what Fuyumi realizes now is a voice modulator static a little. “Fuyumi, can you try making ice for me?”

Fuyumi nods, and when she pulls for her ice it feels almost foreign. Her hand, the same hand she set on fire, becomes encased in solid ice an inch thick. But it feels wrong. Her ice- her frost- has always been a conscious summons, unlike the natural ability most quirk users have, but it’s like-it’s almost like-

It’s like forcing a square block through a round hole. It doesn’t fit right.

“Is there a place we can go where we can test the limits of the quirk more?” Secret asks. Touya nods.

“Endeavor’s estate has a top of the line training room, we can go there while he’s on patrol.”

“Very well. Let’s go then.” Secret responds, standing up. Fuyumi follows silently, worrying over what these tests will show her.

Maybe she’s a bit more like Father than she thought.

Chapter Text

This is certainly an interesting development.

Izuku doesn’t know what he’s more shocked about right now. The fact that, in order to get a credible statement from Rei they are having Fuyumi test to become an officer and then right after to become a detective, or the fact that her quirk isn’t ‘frost’. It’s certainly a close race.

Watching Fuyumi activate her flames compared to her ice was the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

He’s seen Dabi’s flames a hundred times over. Watched the activation, the deactivation, the cause, effect, and backlash of Cremation. He’s made theories on what went wrong with the quirk to hurt Dabi so thoroughly every time he used it. Until now, he’d never seen a quirk more confusing, and that’s including the sentient shadow Fumikage wielded. Then again, considering the owners of the two most confusing quirks he’s ever seen, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

Quirks in twins are already fascinating and rare abilities, usually mirroring each other.

Combine the fact that Touya and Fuyumi are twins with the fact that they were born of both fire and ice lineages that extended multiple generations before them, it’s clear to see that Touya and Fuyumi were never meant to fit one category. Like Shouto, their quirks are hybrids of feuding elements. Just as air and earth based quirks don’t mix well, neither do fire and ice or water.

A fire quirk that masquerades as an ice quirk, and probably an ice quirk that masquerades as a fire quirk.

He absolutely must know the details of these two quirks. He’s never had such an opportunity like this, he can’t let this chance go to waste. Standing in the Todoroki training room, Izuku is truly excited for the first time since the initial idea of the Jump, or perhaps decorating the base.

“Fuyumi, I want you to use your fire, make it as hot as it can go, and when it starts to burn you stop, alright?” Izuku says, notebook in hand, pen at the ready. Fuyumi does as asked and suddenly a blue flame coats her hands. Already he has a note to write down for her. Localizing flames that burn that hot in one spot will, inevitably, hurt her. Just like One For All did to him. He doesn’t say anything though, allowing her to work up the heat.

As Izuku watches closely, the blue fades into white, just as Touya said.

The moment the flame becomes as white as snow, Fuyumi drops the quirk, panting from the strain.

“Good, good. Now, I want you to make ice. Start with your usual frost, and then increase until you can’t make it any more stable or thick.” Izuku instructs. Fuyumi shifts on her feet, doing as commanded, and already, Izuku can see the clear difference in the quirks.

Whereas the fire came naturally, the ice came sluggishly.

Like it fights her. As if the ice doesn’t want her to wield it. Fascinating, absolutely fascinating. “You can stop now.” Izuku says, and Fuyumi melts the ice from her hands. “Touya, can you do me a favor?”

Touya perks up from where he and the others are all lined up on the wall. Izuku and Fuyumi stand a few feet apart in the center of the training room, but everyone else stands back and watches from afar. “Anything, you name it.”

“Do what she did.” Izuku says. Touya’s excited smile fades into confusion, tilting his head just like Shouto always did.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, start with your fire, increase the temperature until you can’t handle it anymore, then do ice.” Izuku explains.

“I don’t have ice though.” Touya says. Izuku hums.

“Do you know much about quirks and quirk types?” Izuku asks. As he asks, the three people on the wall come closer.

“Not really, I mean I know the basics. Why?” Touya asks.

“There’s the common misconception that quirk types are only emitters, transformation, or mutation types. It’s the standard categorical process in Japan and most Asian countries, but there’s more to it than that. For example, what would a sentient quirk class be? Emitter, or perhaps mutation? Or creation quirks, they could be transformative or emitter or mutation, or even all three at once. No, the three class rule is outdated and biased.” Izuku lectures, beginning to pace. “Then there is the subject of twins.”

“Twins?” Tsukauchi parrots. Izuku nods.

“Even before quirks, twins were different from other people, more specifically, identical twins. But when you add in quirks, things become interesting. The most common response of quirks to twin children are mirrored quirks. Meaning that they are perfect opposites. One can have a quirk that enhances their strength, but the other will have a quirk that weakens their opponent. In your case,” Izuku pauses, pointing at Touya and Fuyumi in turn. “An ice quirk pretending to be a fire quirk, and a fire quirk pretending to be an ice quirk.”

“What are you saying?” Fuyumi asks.

“I’m saying, given the nature of your lineages, almost purely fire on one side, and almost purely ice on the other, when those two lineages combined, born into twins, they got all confused in your genes. Touya, has calling your fire forth ever felt forced, unnatural, wrong even?”

“Of course,” Touya says. “My body can’t handle the flames because it was…made for… an ice- oh my god.”

Izuku nods in smug satisfaction. “And Fuyumi?”

“W-well. It’s never hurt me, but I have to consciously call my ice forward. It’s never been very smooth, which is why it was classed as a weak ice quirk.” Fuyumi says.

“My point exactly. Your quirks felt wrong because you’re using them wrong. The ice is there only to hold the flames at bay, and vice versa. They weren’t meant to be like Shouto, perfect ice and perfect fire.” Izuku says. “Now that the quirk lesson is over, again, Touya, do what she did. First the flames and then the ice.”

Touya nods determinedly as he braces his feet, calling forth fire on his hands like Fuyumi did. These start out bright blue, but they only barely become white before Touya lets it go. Without prompting, Touya concentrates hard as he tries to call forth his elusive ice quirk, and Izuku watches closely. If he’s right, then Touya will never have to suffer the burns of Dabi again.

It takes a while, to the point where Shouta and Hitoshi get bored and move off to the side to spar lightly.

Tsukauchi hovers nearby, chewing on his thumb in anxiety. Eventually, Touya huffs in frustration. “I can’t do it! I don’t know how!”

Izuku taps on his mask as Fuyumi tries to comfort her twin. Touya said her fire activated when she felt anger. Maybe the same is true for Touya? Fuyumi has never felt that angry, at least in Touya’s words, so when she became angry, truly furious, for the first time, after her body had been strengthened over the course of two weeks, if only barely, her flames responded to her anger.

Touya’s been training right alongside Fuyumi this whole time, so his body is stronger.

If anger is what activates the fire, what will activate the ice? Joy? No. Quirk awakenings- and he uses that term lightly- like Fuyumi’s respond to the body, not the mind. Usually by a strong surge of emotion. Izuku thinks of Tenya. The fight with Stain didn’t awaken a hidden aspect of the quirk in the moment, but later on, when Tenya felt that same hatred fill him, the day he died, his quirk suddenly evolved, allowing him to save the rest of the class, if only to kill him instead. Tenya’s emotion was hatred. Fuyumi’s emotion was anger. Kacchan’s emotion was guilt, in the fall of Hokkaido, turning him into a nucleaur bomb instead of a regular one.

What’s the common denominator here?

Hatred. Anger. Guilt.

Guilt. Hatred. Emotions not commonly associated in those two particular people’s personalities. Izuku was there, both times. The guilt Kacchan felt was bone deep, soul penetrating. Strong enough for a quirk awakening. The hatred Tenya exuded was foul, wretched, burning.

What is Touya’s emotion?

It can’t be hatred. Dabi hated everything and everyone with a passion, so fierce he let it consume him without a regret. Not anger, his rage rivaled that of Endeavor on a rampage. Guilt maybe? No. Dabi reeked of guilt when he realized Shouto was dead after the Commission broke his quirk. What emotion has Dabi never shown in such an intense way it could force an awakening?

Izuku’s battled Dabi hundreds of times, he’s seen the man in every color imaginable.

Jealousy, hatred, guilt, anger, joy, Izuku saw it all. But what he never saw in Dabi, not even in his last moments was…

Izuku removes a knife and throws it at Touya’s face.

Fear.

“What the fuck!?” Touya screeches as he narrowly ducks beneath the flying knife. His eyes are wild as he turns from where the knife lodges hilt deep in the wall ten feet behind him. “That could have killed me!”

“I know.” Izuku says. He launches forward to attack Touya who narrowly dodges every move. Izuku projects his movements so Touya has a chance to evade, but he doesn’t hold back. This isn’t going to be a sparring match. This is intent to kill.

“Stop!” Touya yells, throwing his body backwards to avoid the dagger that would have gone into his chest. “What are you doing!?”

“I’m gonna kill you, isn’t it obvious?” Izuku responds calmly even as he presses his attack. In the corner of his eye he sees Shouta and Hitoshi have restrained Tsukauchi and Fuyumi, but he can tell they’re hesitant. They don’t know why he’s attacking Touya, but they trust him.

One day that trust will get them killed, he’s sure of it.

Even so, with Fuyumi and Tsukauchi screaming in their restraints, Izuku presses the attack. “Come on Touya, what’s with the hesitation? Fight me!”

“No!” Touya responds, and one of Izuku’s throwing knives nicks his hairline, causing a thin stream of blood to trail down his face, tracing the path of his nose. Izuku forces away the guilt and attacks again.

Every strike is aimed for a vital area, forcing Touya to retreat or be killed.

Izuku grabs Touya’s arm with one hand, yanks him forward and closer to his blade. Touya narrowly avoids getting a dagger to the stomach by forcing his body to fall, yanking his arm out of Izuku’s grasp. Blue eyes are wild and panicked as he tries to roll away, but Izuku pins him to the ground. He plunges his dagger down towards Touya’s heart, eyes focused on every detail.

The moment he sees the beginning of frost, Izuku pulls his swing, striking the floor beside Touya’s head.

In a mere second after his dagger lodges into the floor, ice explodes violently out of Touya, starting from his hands. It coats the floor in a thick layer, as thick as Shouto could produce on a good day, smacking at the walls of the training room and rising all the way to and across the ceiling. Within moments, ice has completely coated this side of the room.

Izuku leans back, releasing his dagger since it’s frozen into the ice up to the hilt, and pats Touya’s cheek gently. He ignores the barely there flinch.

“There ya go.” Izuku says, and he tries to stand, but his legs are frozen to the ground. “Help me out here?”

“You-what-why the hell did you do that!?” Touya says, and there’s that anger, feeding the oppressing heat that builds in Touya, which he can feel even through his thick outfit. It slowly melts away the ice, but Izuku is still stuck, basically straddling Touya.

“You said you had never seen her angry before.” Izuku says, voice echoing in the iced over room. Everyone is silent for a moment.

“What?” Touya asks. His eyebrows are creased in confusion.

“Fuyumi. You said you had never seen such anger in your sister before, and even she agreed it was unnatural. In cases of quirk evolutions like hers, the quirk responds to the body, more specifically the surge of an unknown or uncommon emotion for that person.” Izuku explains patiently as he waits for the ice to melt enough for him to move. “Her emotion was anger. Your emotion was fear.”

“You-”

“-Made you think I was legitimately going to kill you for no reason to make you feel intense fear to activate your quirk so you would stop hurting yourself?” Izuku cuts him off. “Yes. Yes I did.”

“What the actual fuck.” Touya whispers.

“Don’t look so worried. I was never going to let my blades touch you.” Izuku says. He reaches forward to check the cut on his hairline. “That was an accident.”

“You almost took my head off!”

“I projected my movements.” Izuku retaliates. “You were never in true danger from me, because I projected my movements loudly enough that you had time to react and dodge. And since I know of your previous ‘training’ by Endeavor, I also knew your reaction time was higher than the average person’s.”

“That’s fucked up.” Touya says after staring up at him in silence.

“I know.” Izuku responds, standing up as he’s finally free enough to break the rest of the ice. “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for scaring you. But it was better this happened in a controlled environment, rather than on the streets. Fuyumi was lucky you were there, quirk evolutions are dangerous.”

Touya takes his outstretched hand, letting Izuku haul him upward. He staggers a moment, shivering harshly from what must be a new sensation of feeling cold, until his fireside warms him up to normal temperatures.

“No hard feelings?” Izuku asks hopefully. He wouldn’t blame Touya if he doesn’t want Izuku near him ever again. Touya stares him down hard before grinning sharply and yanking Izuku under his arm, pulling him close.

“No hard feelings, Izuku.” Touya whispers in his ear, and cold fear washes over him. Touya’s hand pats him on the back. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“You- How did you-?” Izuku stutters nervously.

“Your mother really misses you.” Touya tells him, and then just walks away, back to the group. Izuku follows after a moment of hesitation. Fuyumi launches herself onto Touya the moment he clears the ice, Izuku following in his literal footsteps to avoid slipping. When Izuku comes within range, Fuyumi launches herself at him next, except more violently.

“If you ever do that again, they will never find your body, you understand me!?” She yells at him. Izuku nods silently just to make her stop shaking him back and forth. She pulls him into a brief hug right after he nods. “Thank you for helping us again.”

Izuku pats her back awkwardly. “Don’t mention it.”

Chapter Text

Hitoshi usually prefers to not dwell on the future that will never be.

He prefers to focus on their mission, and reminds himself every day that the people he loves, his family, his lover, his friends, are all still alive and well. He prefers to think about the plan, pondering on repercussions and ripples and changes that they’re making. It keeps him sane, keeps him from spiraling down a hole of what if’s and could be’s.

But sometimes he can’t help but remember.

Remembering the pain and the suffering and the fear. Remembering the grief and the hatred and the dying hope. He can’t help but dwell on the future that will not be, because as much as they want to change it, that future still exists inside all three of them. Like scars etched into their hearts and minds.

Most of the time when he thinks or dreams of the future that won’t be, it’s about Denki.

Hitoshi remembers every word, every small little interaction between himself and the love of his life. How Denki would smile at him in a way that makes his heart squeeze. A little lopsided smile that shows off one dimple but not the other, baring his canines just a little too aggressively. A little feral even. It’s something that slowly spreads through every person involved in the War, that feral-ness.

When you’ve lost your morals and are forced to fight for your life at every turn, a little feral-ness is expected.

Hitoshi remembers every single person they’ve lost. Katsuki went out like an exploding star. Bright, fierce, devastating. Kyouka was turned into a Nomu, tearing Momo’s heart to shreds since she was the one to kill her. Tenya was one of the first in 1-A to go, staying behind to allow the rest to evacuate. Hitoshi remembers them all.

And sometimes, sometimes he wishes he didn’t.

Sometimes he wishes he could forget about the way Pops looked without a throat his head could attach to. Sometimes he wishes he could wipe away the memories of Shouto dying due to his own quirk being Broken, or how Fumikage was found after weeks of being missing, torn apart and tortured. How Denki, when he died, set off electricity so powerful that it reached the heavens, letting Hitoshi know the moment it happened despite being half a country apart. That same electricity disturbing the weather patterns themselves so much that no hero, villain, or civilian could go aboveground for almost a month because of the rolling electrified fog. And every once in a while for the years after, having to go to ground again because it came back.

Most of their losses were due to starvation or electrocution in that month-long period.

Hitoshi wishes he didn’t remember, but he’s also so glad that he does. With these memories fogging up his mind, he can use them as motivation, as cautionary tales, as directions when he feels lost. He hates having to wake up in the middle of the night due to nightmares. He hates being woken up by Dad or Izuku having nightmares. He hates reliving every aching moment of the War when his body is idle. But he doesn’t hate the memories. He cherishes them, uses them to forge the path forward.

That’s what he’ll say if anyone asks anyways.

It’s not uncommon for Hitoshi to leave in the middle of the night or day for a patrol to get rid of his nightmare jitters. Dad does it too, even. Izuku usually uses it as motivation to do more research though. So here Hitoshi is, flying across rooftops in the light of day. It’s usually dangerous to go out during the day, given there are no shadows to disappear into and heroes ready to arrest him.

Even so, he doesn’t care anymore.

He just needs that boost of adrenaline, needs his muscles burning and his lungs aching. He needs something to focus on other than the memories and the what if’s. He’s silent as he works, which is unusual for him. He’s usually chatty, fishing for responses to his quirk even when he doesn’t need it, just in case. It’s also a good workout for his quirk, even when he doesn’t flip the switch and take control. But today, he’s just quiet. So when he stumbles upon a mugging, he’s ready to get it over and done with quickly.

And then he doesn’t have to because familiar yellow electricity sparks, knocking the mugger out.

Denki. Beautiful, intelligent, dumb Denki. Hitoshi’s Denki. Kaminari Denki, future student of UA, is standing there, freaking out in Hitoshi’s face, and Hitoshi can only stare like an idiot. His hair is still a vibrant blonde with that cute little black streak. His eyes are still golden yellow, bright like the sun. He’s still beautiful, and perfect, and here.

“Oh my god I knocked him out! Am I gonna get in trouble for quirk usage? It’ll go on my record, oh no that means I won’t get into UA! What am I gonna do?” Denki rambles, suddenly spinning to face Hitoshi. Denki looks at him for a second, and then suddenly there’s recognition in his eyes.

Hitoshi silently wonders if he can get away with a kiss without being a creep.

“You! You’re a part of that vigilante group right? Purple, does this mean you’re Silence!?” Denki asks excitedly. He seems to have completely forgotten he just unintentionally knocked out the guy who wanted to mug him. “Can I get an autograph? Or a picture!? Oh my god, this is amazing! In your face AlienQueenForever!”

Alien Que- Mina!?

Hitoshi doesn’t have time to respond, given he’s suddenly lost the ability to speak all together, before Denki is throwing an arm around him and snapping a quick picture. Hitoshi has enough presence of mind to reach up and draw his hood down a little lower on his face before the picture is taken. Other than that, he can’t get over the fact that Denki is touching him.

Holy shit Denki is touching him.

“Dude this is awesome!” Denki squeals, and he does something on his phone that has his phone vibrating furiously in his hands. Hitoshi clears his voice, making the modulator fritz a little, and he reaches up to turn the damn thing off. When Denki looks back at him, Hitoshi reaches out to grab Denki’s hand.

Izuku is already gonna be mad, might as well make the best of it.

“You know my name, but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.” Hitoshi says, deepening his voice just enough to make that pretty blush spread across Denki’s face. Works every fucking time, he’s still got it.

“Oh-uh-my n-name? Daminari Kenki!” Hitoshi holds back a snort as the blush spreads and deepens. “I mean Kaminari Denki! That’s my name, yep. Wow, your voice is nice.” Denki whispers that last part, but not low enough for Hitoshi to miss it. Still holding Denki’s hand, he bows his head over it, removes his mask with his other, and presses a brief kiss on the back of it. He puts his mask back on before he raises his head, and smirks to himself when he sees how flustered Denki looks.

“A pleasure, Denki.” Hitoshi almost purrs. Dear god, Izuku will kill him if he finds out about this. Denki tries to stutter out a response, but Hitoshi doesn’t give him the chance. He reaches forward to brush a hair out of Denki’s face. “Be more careful, I would hate to see you hurt.”

“O-of course, th-thank you, uh, Silence, sir.”

“No need to call me sir, after all, I’m not much older than you.” Hitoshi responds. Yeah, Izuku won’t be happy about this. He can’t help it though. Denki is just too pretty for Hitoshi to not mess with him a little bit. Denki squeaks, and Hitoshi laughs that specific laugh that Denki always loved. “Call the cops, tell them what happened, but say the vigilante Silence knocked him out. I have to go before Secret gets mad at me, so stay here until the cops come, alright?”

“Will do!” Denki says, his voice a little more high pitched. Hitoshi offers a two fingered salute before taking to the rooftops. He stays just long enough to see Denki fall against the wall of the building with a sigh.

He wonders what social media Denki posted that picture to. Hitoshi wants it for himself.

Chapter Text

Hawks is circling around trying to find a good spot to rest when he sees a figure standing on the edge of a building.

He’s been a hero for two years now, and he knows better than to turn away when someone is standing on a ledge. Especially when it’s already dark and late enough that the streets have cleared a bit. He lands lightly on the rooftop behind the figure, and that’s when he realizes this isn’t the regular jumper case.

For one, they look way too relaxed.

Standing with one foot on the flat of the roof, the other propped up on the foot tall ledge, hands casually tucked into their pockets. They are far too casual for a normal jumper. Most Jumpers are anxious and jittery, prepared to jump but also scared to. Most Jumpers are skittish, and one wrong move would force Hawks to send feathers after them to catch them before they hit the ground.

For two, they’re wearing what looks like a professionally made hero suit.

It’s black, and it has dark green stripes that reflect the light of the moon running down their sides and down their arms, two stripes over his shoulders and down the back in between the shoulder blades. Their hood is raised. Hawks can see multiple hilts of knives along their waist. They look nothing like any underground heroes Hawks knows patrols around these parts.

Hawks moves closer warily when the figure's hood shifts to the side and they raise a hand and beckon him closer silently.

“Good evening Hawks.” The figure says, and Hawks’ ears almost twitch at the sound of a voice modulator. Now that he’s closer, he recognizes the figure. Black outfit, green accents, short, but so is Hawks, and a voice modulator. He’s speaking to the vigilante Secret, one of three that have caused chaos across the country. Four if you count their hacktivist friend.

“Secret right?” Hawks asks cautiously. “Why aren’t you running from me?” And why isn’t he running? Hawks is one of the top ten, he’s slated to make top five within the year. He could easily arrest Secret then and there.

“Why would I run when I’ve been waiting for you to show up?” Secret asks in an amused tone. It makes alarm bells ring quietly in his mind, not quite blaring like he’s in immediate danger. Quiet, as if warning him that something is up, but whether it’s good or bad remains to be seen. And if there’s one thing Hawks trusts about himself, it’s his sharp instincts.

“And why have you been waiting for me?” Hawks asks, keeping a casual air about him, even as his body tenses in preparations to be attacked.

“Just had a few things that I needed to discuss with you, that’s all. Will you hear me out, or will you attack first and ask questions later?”

“Okay, I’ll hear you out.” Hawks responds after considering for a moment. “What did you need to speak to me about?”

“Project Icarus.” Secret says bluntly, and Hawks feels like he’s been shot.

Project Icarus. It’s a program that Hawks shouldn’t know the name of, but he does. He knows because the project is him, the Commission started Project Icarus after his parents sold him to them. The idea was to create a perfect hero, someone who will take over for All Might when he eventually retires. It’s something Hawks has been aware of since his training began.

Be perfect Hawks (you will be the next All Might). No mistakes Hawks (heroes like All Might don’t make mistakes). Keep going Hawks (All Might doesn’t rest and neither will you). Be better, be perfect, be the best.

How does a random vigilante who’s been active less than a year know about Icarus?

“What’s Project Icarus?” Hawks asks instead. If Secret is an agent for the Commission, then he can’t give away that he knows what Project Icarus means. If the upper echelon of the Commission find out he knew all along what he was being bred for, they’ll consider him a failed project, and he’ll be taken care of. After all, their perfect little hero can’t be disobedient, that would defeat the purpose. He can’t be autonomous, that is not the point of the Project.

The point of the project is simple.

The Commission has no control over All Might. They have nothing to hold over the hero’s head to make him do the Commission’s bidding. They have no birth name, no quirk details, nothing, they have no control whatsoever. And that’s exactly the problem, hence the birth of Hawks. A hero with no name, but that the Commission still has control over. The next All Might that they will be able to control.

That is what Hawks is for.

“Come now, don’t play coy. I’m not working for the Commission if that’s what you’re afraid of. Quite the contrary, I’m pretty sure here soon they’ll want you to assassinate me and my partners.” Secret says far too nonchalantly when talking about his own possible murder attemtpts.

“Why do you say that?” Hawks asks.

“Because the Commission doesn’t like us, especially since someone keeps outing Sequence’s link to those Commission bashing posts.” Secret replies. Hawks knows what posts he’s talking about. They’ve been the cause of many meetings at headquarters. Hawks has had to listen to enough rants from his handler about the subject that he could be classified an expert on the situation.

“That was Sequence? They’ve certainly caused a stir.” Hawks says. He still wants to keep his cards close to his chest, so if Secret is lying, or this isn’t the real Secret, he can claim innocence.

Secret huffs a little, making the modulator fritz a little.

“A stir indeed. Have you heard there’s been protests around the country because of the posts?” Secret asks, and it’s in a tone of voice that Hawks recognizes. Secret is playing along with his word games it seems.

He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“I’ve actually been there for a few myself, just to keep things from getting out of hand.”

“That’s good, I would hate to see people rioting in the streets over a few call out posts from my partner.” Secret responds in kind without a beat of hesitation. Hawks decides to throw the guy a bone.

“So what do those posts have to do with Project- Icarus was it?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Secret says. “I was just wondering if you knew anything about it.”

“Can’t say I do, this is the first I’ve heard anything about it.” Which translates to: I know enough, what do you know?

“Ah, well I would hate to burden you with the knowledge.” Which translates to: I know more than you might think.

“Knowledge is the greatest weapon of all, I would be a fool to dismiss it out of hand.” Tell me everything you know and maybe I will too.

“Very well then. Project Icarus is a Commission based experiment to create a hero to take over for All Might, one that they have some sort of leverage over. Do you know who they chose?” What I know is more than I’ve said, do you know who the project is based around?

“Not really, no. Are they already a hero?” I know exactly who it is. Do you?

“Ah, yes they are. But seeing as you know nothing of Icarus, I don’t see the need to continue this conversation.” If you wish to take this elsewhere, we can.

Hawks might have been intimidated by the fact that he can understand the words in between the lines with this stranger, but he’s too curious. He wants to know why this vigilante knows, how he knows, and what he plans to do with the information. After all, in a roundabout way, they’re speaking of himself. And it’s in his best interest to know what the vigilante knows.

“If that’s what you wish. This conversation has been enlightening. Perhaps I’ll see you on another patrol sometime.” I’m intrigued. When and where can we meet?

“I’m usually based more in Gifu, but I’ll see you around.”

Hawks is prepared to respond in their silent conversation when Secret reaches out to brush his feathers. It’s an incredibly rude thing for the vigilante to do, and he’s about to puff up in anger when he feels it. There’s a slip of paper wedged into his wings.

“You have beautiful wings, Hawks. But I must say, I’m partial to the color green myself.” In their not-conversation, Hawks thinks what Secret means is pertaining to the paper within his wings. The only thing he’s confused about is what green means. A confirmation about which one he is? A clue? Something more innocuous?

Either way, he keeps up their not-conversation as he bids goodbye.

“I appreciate the compliment! I must be getting back to my patrol now, so stay safe out there.” I got the message, but I have to leave before I’m noticed. With a two fingered salute he backs away and then leaps off the ledge of the building to take to the sky. Before it has the chance to be lost, Hawks grabs the slip of paper on his first downstroke. Purposefully heading towards a more well lit up and crowded area, Hawks opens the slip of paper, holding it to his palm to hide it from anyone who may be watching a little too closely.

On it is an address, with a small message scrawled underneath, signed with a flourish on the S of Secret’s name.

Tell the Detective that Secret sends you.

On the back of the note is another message, this time with tomorrow’s date and a time. It’s perfectly scheduled for after his patrol tomorrow. Soon enough to not be in the middle of the night, but late enough that he has time to head back to his apartment and disguise himself for the trip. Hawks doesn’t know how Secret got a hold of his patrol schedule, but he thinks it’s best not to question it.

He tries not to dwell on the strange meeting, but it keeps running through his head all night.

Even his sleep was fitful as he kept replaying every word, every minute movement Secret made. It’s so bad, that when he finally drags himself out of bed for the day, earlier than usual, his feathers are a mess. Grumbling with frustration, he spends the extra hour he had before he had to leave grooming his feathers into something more presentable.

Patrol is, thankfully, nothing heavy.

A few muggings, a handful of purse snatchings, two or three attempted robberies. Highlight of his long and slow day was his lunch break, because he managed to squeeze in a fitful nap at his agency. The sun doesn’t set fast enough, and when his patrol is done, he heads straight home. Normally he would spend an hour, maybe two, just flying without direction or reason. He’ll step in if any crimes are being committed, but he usually uses those few hours to enjoy the wind in his face.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he lands on his balcony, muscles twitching with his anxious jitters. Heading to his closet, he grabs the disguising clothes that Rumi bought for him, since he didn’t want the Commission to know about it. Heroes are meant to be seen, Hawks.

He covers his hair with a beanie, his facial markings with makeup. A heavy trench coat slides over his wings, which he tucks tightly against his back. He uses a scarf to hide his lower face, so that all there is to see of his head are his eyes. As usual when he wears the coat, he tests the hidden holes to see if he can free his wings.

One of the many things Rumi has done for him, to allow some sort of autonomy in Hawks’ life.

She had learned how to sew just so she could make holes in the coat, but still keep them hidden. She buys him junk food to keep in his room where the handlers won’t check on a cursory visit. She set up a separate bank account for him to use without the Commission’s knowledge. Bought him a separate phone from what the Commission gives him so he can have a social life that isn’t monitored 24/7. A part of him knows he never would have survived this long without her.

Hawks slips out the back emergency exit to his building, where Rumi has long since disabled the sensors, and heads to the address he remembers from the slip of paper.

It takes longer than it would have if he were flying, but he eventually gets to the building with ten minutes to spare from the meeting time. He knocks on the door, and is greeted by a man he’s had few dealings with. Detective Tsukauchi, another bane of the Commission’s existence. He’s protected by All Might, so the Commission can’t control him either. There’s a few people like that.

All Might, of course. Principal Nezu of UA High School. The Detective. An underground hero named Eraserhead Hawks has never met in person. Another hero named Present Mic, who has a radio show Hawks has interviewed with before. A few others he doesn’t know the names of; one is an analyst, another is a lawyer.

“Can I help you?”

“Secret sent me.” Hawks replies. The Detective’s eyes widen comically before narrowing, darting around the quiet street behind him.

“Ah, do come in.” Detective Tsukauchi says kindly. Hawks steps into the house, and the moment the door is closed, Hawks sends out his feathers. It takes only a few moments to check for any listening devices, and when it’s clear, he relaxes.

“What the fuck!?” Another voice hollars from deeper into the house. There’s stomping as someone comes down the stairs to Hawks’ left, and Hawks is soon face to face with a beautiful angry man.

Heroes don’t have relationships, and certainly not with another man, Hawks.

“Who the fuck are you!?” The man, who looks Hawks’ age, almost screams at him. He removes the beanie and scarf, flashing his most charming smile.

“Sorry about that, I was checking for bugs. The name’s Hawks, Secret sent me.”

All at once the man calms down, looking at Hawks calmly and curiously. “Is that so?”

Hawks nods. “Yes, he asked to meet me here, he should be here anytime-'' There's a knock on the front door. “That would be him, actually.”

“Come in.” Tsukauchi sighs out, and the door opens to all three vigilantes. If he’s remembering correctly, Purple is Silence, Red is Soldier. Interesting names for vigilantes. Especially ones as infamous as they are. Normally vigilantes who get noticed have attention grabbing names and personas.

“Hawks, thank you for meeting us here.” Secret says kindly as the three move in tandem to the living room.

“Why did you choose my house to meet with Hawks?” Tsukauchi asks.

“We couldn’t exactly take him to our evil lair.” Silence snarks back. “That would be dumb.”

“Silence!” The pretty young man says, greeting Silence with a bright smile and a brief hug.

“Get off of me.” Silence responds, but his tone is of amusement.

“Let’s go to the living room. The foyer is hardly a place for a clandestine meeting.” Soldier says, sounding tired of life.

They arrange themselves in the living room, Hawks opting to drag one of the kitchen chairs in to sit backwards. This way he can let his wings spread and relax, the coat dropped over the chair’s back as a cushion for his arms. The vigilantes take the couch opposite of Hawks, Tsukauchi in his own kitchen chair to Hawks’ left, and the man- Touya, as he introduces himself- lounges in the armchair. He’s playing on his phone as if Hawks can’t see him listening to everything happening around him.

“Why are we here Secret?” Hawks asks the moment everyone is seated. Secret pulls up a large briefcase he didn’t notice until now and sets it on the table silently.

“Oh no, what this time?” Tsukauchi asks under his breath.

“Project Icarus, am I correct in my assumptions that you actually know what it is?” Secret asks. Hawks feels his heart skip a beat as he stares at the briefcase. He can’t bring himself to smile-heroes wear a smile at all times, Hawks, no matter the circumstances.

“I know it well, given it’s about me.” He responds quietly, still staring at the briefcase. He has a suspicion of what’s inside, and he doesn’t think he likes it.

“Then you know the unethical qualities the Project has.” Secret replies. Hawks grits his teeth.

“It is my duty-”

“Your duty is to be a hero, not a robot.” Secret cuts him off. “Tell me now, tell me that you are completely okay with what Project Icarus stands for, and I will let it go. We will go our separate ways and I will never broach the subject again.”

Hawks hesitates as his head is filled with memories.

Memories of them taking away his name, his real name, to the point it hurts to try and remember it by force. Memories of training and training and training from the age of seven until he could hardly move. Memories of being forced through that same training without use of his wings, his eyes, his ears, or all of the above. Days that turned into weeks where every single feather was systematically plucked over and over again so that they regenerated stronger than before. Years without seeing the sky when it’s not through a window.

A caged bird forced to sing for it’s masters.

“You know I can’t say that.” Hawks finally answers, eyes stinging- heroes don’t cry, why are you crying, stop crying Hawks. “How do you even know about Icarus?”

“What’s Project Icarus mean?” Tsukauchi asks.

“Not now, Detective.” Secret responds before turning back to Hawks. “I know many things about many people, and it’s my job to set things right.”

Hawks scoffs. “And what exactly can you do? You’re only a few vigilantes. Not even heroes. No one will take you seriously if you try to expose Icarus to the public. That is your plan isn’t it?”

“Part of it, maybe.” Secret says.

“It won’t work, just forget all about Icarus and move on, I can handle-”

“Why don’t you look inside the briefcase, before you reject my offer.” Secret cuts him off. He slides the briefcase across the table slightly, turning it so that the clasps are facing Hawks. “That’s all I ask. Just look at what’s inside, and then you can decide if I have a leg to stand on or not.”

Hawks looks at Secret, but with the mask and goggles and hood, there’s no possible way for Hawks to read his facial expressions. With a huff, Hawks stands from his chair to turn it around, tucking his wings uncomfortably against his back, and grabs the briefcase. He opens it to find layers upon layers of papers and files. Hawks warily picks up the first file, closing the briefcase to lean on it.

And what he reads in the file makes his face pale.

Project Icarus: Classified, In Progress

Subject: Takami Keigo

Alias: Hawks, Icarus

Hawks doesn’t continue, staring at that name with wide eyes. “Is that-”

“Your name, yes.” Secret says quietly. Keigo. His name is Keigo. He doesn’t know what to be more surprised about right now. The fact that, somehow, Secret- or perhaps it was Sequence- got a hold of the original, unredacted file of Project Icarus. Or the fact that this isn’t all they have.

Takami Keigo. Hawks thinks he likes the name Keigo.

Hawks continues digging through the briefcase, and every file he skims over makes his stomach twist more and more.

Project Hades: Classified, Inconclusive

Project Zeus: Classified, Failed

Project Daedalus: Classified, Failed

Project Apollo: Classified, Inconclusive

Project Astrea: Classified, Failed

Hawks takes a shuddering breath when he recognizes Project Astrea. Lady Nagant, his predecessor.

“How do you have all of this?” Hawks asks, looking at Secret with wide eyes.

“Keep going.” He says instead.

Hawks keeps going.

Not only are all of the previous Projects here, unredacted, but there’s everything else. Evidence of all of the Commission’s coverups. They like to ‘help out’ heroes by covering up some scandal or crime so that they’re indebted to the Commission. There’s evidence of the Commission embezzling money, of them taking care of problematic people.

There’s enough evidence here to rip the Commission to shreds.

And Hawks thought those posts on social media were exposing the Commission. This is on a whole new level. This is equivalent to an atom bomb. Hawks looks through every single file and piece of paper inside the suitcase, hyperaware that he’s being studied as he does so.

“This is, how- why?”

“Like I said, I want to help you. Do you want to be free of Project Icarus, now that you know what I know?” Secret asks.

Hawks can hardly imagine it. Be free? Him? He ponders what ‘free’ means to him. Free means to eat junk food whenever he wants without having to hide it. Freedom is choosing his own patrol route and not having to work from dawn to dusk. Freedom is, well, doing what he wants.

He often thinks to himself that his Project should have been named Atlas.

He doesn’t want to be Atlas. All Might is Atlas, holding the world on his shoulders as it slowly tears him to pieces. He doesn’t want to be the next Symbol. He doesn’t want to forget his name again- My name is Takami Keigo- and he doesn’t want to be forced to spend his life doing the bidding of others.

He could be free. Secret is offering him a chance of freedom.

“What do I have to do?” Hawks says, staring down at his file, at Project Icarus.

“I have a few things in mind.” Secret says. There’s a hand in front of his face, Secret reaching out for Hawks- Keigo- to take. He grabs it willingly. “Welcome to the team Keigo.”

His name has never sounded so sweet.

Chapter Text

Explaining to Keigo the gist of what they need him to do was easy but time consuming. 

Izuku handed the man a list of things he needed Keigo to do and explained why and how when the man asked any questions. The list, for the time being, is relatively short. It’ll still be a while yet to completely dismantle and rebuild the Commission without breaking society, but there are things they can do to help Keigo specifically in the meantime. 

First, get a job at UA. 

People who work at UA and have a rapport with Nezu himself get a lot more freedom. They all use that freedom in different ways. Shouta used his connection to Nezu to not do the Commission’s dirty work, and to expel and re-enroll students as he pleased. Hizashi uses it to speak out about discrimination and build charities that will, ultimately, bring the Commission’s ire. Nemuri uses her freedom to work as she pleases, and not being forced to adhere to Commission standards regarding costume regulations and things of that nature. 

The general rule of thumb is that, if you work at UA and have Nezu at your back, the Commission can’t hardly touch you. 

The idea is to give Keigo the open class-A homeroom position in Shouta’s place until the mission is over, one that makes Shouta grumble about over private comms every time it’s brought up. Once Keigo has his position at UA cemented in the press, he can use it to gain back some of his autonomy. 

Second, Keigo needs to record a video detailing everything the Commission has put him through, which will come into play later on down the line. 

Almost like the Endeavor case Tsukauchi is building, Keigo will be the pinch hitter. Take Commission officials to court over unrelated issues, and when they try to wiggle free of the accusations, that’s when they’ll bring in Keigo for the final blow. Since both cases are likely to get a lot of press, there would be no way for Commission Officials to talk their way out of it. 

Third and last on the list, Keigo needs to make friends with some very specific people. 

He’s already friends with Mirko, but he needs that friendship to be more public, so they know that yes, Mirko is backing Hawks up on his claims, and not without reason. Keigo needs to befriend Present Mic, Nezu, All Might, Sir Nighteye, Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, and Ingenium. 

Present Mic and Ingenium are known in the community, both online and the ones they patrol, as being people who stand out against abuse, discrimination, and the advocacy of villain rehabilitation. Nezu and All Might are there to be the powerful people no one can really deny. Sir Nighteye, Best Jeanist, and Edgeshot are known for their efficiency, their penchant for following the rules, and most importantly, their obsessive-compulsive need to verify all leads personally in their cases. 

Mirko will be the friend who is concerned. 

It doesn’t seem important from an outsider’s view, but Mirko is adored by fans because of her blunt nature. Getting her on board, making it more public, and having her take her own stand against the Commission without giving away Hawks’ story too early, and they’ll have a leg to stand on when it all goes down. Fan analysts, like Izuku used to be, will compile every word and action that Mirko displays of any sort of displeasure with the Commission and know that this hasn’t come out of the blue, that it's been slowly building until the pot boils over. She’s the key to jumpstart the whole operation. Her job, as villainous as it may sound, is to manipulate the public’s opinions. 

And add that to the bash posts Izuku makes, and the people will already have a half informed opinion by the time it all comes to light.

The posts have already gotten the job started, but Sequence is not a trusted hero. It’s a face hiding behind the screens. While the easier ones will hop on board the moment they read something that looks well informed and factual, the skeptics won’t trust him at his word. But with Mirko making similar moves as Sequence? It changes the game entirely.

And, if Keigo ends up standing against Endeavor when the case is brought forward, it’ll give people more reason to believe Keigo is speaking the truth. They already have a mountain of factual evidence against the Commission, but that will be for the court. Keigo will be there to sway the public. 

All in all, Izuku thinks approaching Keigo early was the right idea. 

The three vigilantes make their way out of Tsukauchi’s home to head out on separate patrols. Izuku designed it this way, because he has another important meeting to attend, and he has to go alone right now. It’s one he never expected to happen so easily, but he can’t deny it helps. 

Shigaraki Tomura has requested an audience with the leader of the Snakes. 

Someone, Kurogiri most likely, contacted Sequence quietly. From Izuku’s conversation with him, Shigaraki has asked for a meeting in peace, in order to discuss the ‘reasoning’ and ‘intentions’ the Snakes have with their operation. Shigaraki agreed to a neutral meeting ground, a sketchy internet cafe in Kamino, close to, but not inside of Shigaraki’s home turf.  It seems the bar was their long stay base even before everything with UA happens in two years time. 

Not that Secret is supposed to know that. 

The meeting is only between Shigaraki and him, no Kurogiri, no All For One, no Silence or Soldier. Just the two of them. Izuku agreed on the terms that, even if things get heated, they walk away and fight again another day. It’s Shigaraki’s terms that they only communicate through a game, to leave no traces, and so no one will overhear.

Izuku has about two hours until the meet up is scheduled, so he heads straight there after sending Shouta and Hitoshi off on patrols. They know he’s meeting someone, but they don’t know who. They trust that he’ll explain when the time is right. 

He’s said it once, he’ll say it again, their trust in him may get them killed one day. 

Either way, Izuku is strapped to the nines as he approaches the cafe. It’s tucked in a little corner between two taller buildings, almost unnoticeable except for the god awful neon sign above the door. The windows are blacked out so no one can see in or out, and the door screeches when he opens it. It’s relatively empty inside, with only two patrons and the worker snoring lightly at the desk. Izuku doesn’t bother approaching, he just looks for Shigaraki. 

It’s easy to find him, despite his different appearance. 

Shigaraki’s hair is darker than Izuku ever knew of him, despite knowing he inherited Nana’s silky black strands. The Shigaraki he knew always had a bad dye job, only his roots growing in black. Right now though, Shigaraki’s hair is a light brown, the hair still badly dyed, but the bleached locks make the contrasting colors look far more natural. Izuku takes a seat at the computer across from him silently. 

Without even looking at him, Shigaraki slides the information needed to log on across the table.

Izuku logs on promptly, logging into the game that Shigaraki put down on the piece of paper. He makes quick work of designing his character for the relatively crappy RPG they’re playing. Shigaraki let’s him set up his character silently, and by the time he’s done, he already has a friend request. Accepting the request and opening the chat logs, Izuku messages him first. 

Shigaraki’s username is MustyDusty23 and Izuku’s username is It’sASecret92.

I: What did you wish to discuss, Dusty?

M: I want to know why you and your little buddies have been targeting my operations.

I: Your operations? Don’t you mean your master’s?

Shigaraki doesn’t respond as they set out on the first quest of the game, fingers flying across the board to fight off the terrible graphics of what Izuku thinks is some sort of Minotaur-Octopus thing. The plot isn’t too terrible, but the bad graphics and the bugs in the game make it hard to really enjoy it. 

M: I don’t have a master, I’m the boss around here, Shigaraki responds. 

Izuku replies quickly. I: Don’t play me for a fool, Dusty. You won’t like the results.

M: You ARE a fool if you think you scare me. I’ve seen far worse than the likes of you.

I: Oh I’m sure. Izuku responds, and he smirks beneath his mask when Shigaraki breathes heavily through his nose. 

M: What do you even know? You’re just a wannabe hero brat who couldn’t hack it.

I: Pot, meet kettle. I know a lot of things Dusty, would you like a short list?

M: I hate heroes, don’t compare me to them or I’ll kill you. 

Izuku snorts audibly and watches Shigaraki’s red eyes snap to his before looking back at the console. 

M: Not that I care, but what things do you know?

Ah, there it is. Izuku scares him. A vigilante with no civilian identity he can find, who’s been tearing apart the Doctor’s laboratories like a wild bull, and who knows there’s someone else behind the scenes. A vigilante with no obvious quirk, who is able to outlive every assassin All For One has sent their way. A vigilante unafraid of death and even less afraid of killing. A vigilante who threatens his entire world.

I: I know how to build a bomb, I know that All Might is oblivious to the hatred harbored by his number two, and I know what your master’s true name is.

That gets a real reaction. Dusty pauses the game, and Shigaraki glares at Izuku with wide and horrified eyes. “Bullshit.” Shigaraki hisses out loud, but Izuku simply places a finger over his mask in a shushing gesture. Shigaraki growls low but he does as demanded. 

M: I don’t even know his true name, you can’t prove that you do.

And isn’t that saddening? Shigaraki practically worships All For One; he claims AFO was the only person who ever truly cared about him, and yet he doesn’t even know the man’s true name. Izuku, when he had One For All and could regularly communicate with the vestiges, learned All For One’s true name after much hard work with Yoichi. It took years of clawing through Yoichi’s memories, one by one, in order to find the name that had been static every other time, but it eventually happened. It took a while just to find Yoichi’s, let alone the greatest villain ever known. 

Combing through the memories of the past users was what kept him alive for so long after the hero schools fell and war broke out. 

Izuku has the equivalent to nine lives full of different techniques and fighting styles and knowledge crammed into his head now. To be fair, that knowledge sometimes forces the ‘unimportant’ things to be forgotten to make room. Things like how to tie his shoelaces. Ride a bike. What the details of Quirk history are. He’s quite literally forgotten half of his childhood, and luckily most of it seems to be centered around useless knowledge and bad memories. Even so, he’s forgetting a lot more the longer he’s in his child body. 

In the future-past, Izuku was once kidnapped by the league and tortured. 

They wanted Izuku to give up One For All, but he wouldn’t, he refused, it was all he had left of Toshinori. One of the ways Shigaraki tortured him was through the give and take of quirks. He would give Izuku a multitude of quirks over a period of time, and then take them away, just to do it all over again. Both ways were painful, excruciating processes, and even though he was born without the quirks Shigaraki crammed into him and took away, it always left an aching hole when a quirk was taken. One of the quirks Izuku had been able to keep was an intelligence enhancer. It was the only reason the knowledge and memories of nine entire lives and eight deaths didn’t drive him mad or force him to forget more important things. 

Now, without any quirk to aid him, he’s slowly forgetting. 

And he knows he’s forgetting the eight other lives crammed into his head, because he can’t remember Two’s name, or Nana’s husband’s face. He’s also written everything down over the four months of being in the past before Shouta Jumped, and some of the things written he doesn’t remember. Each of the Vestiges got three notebooks, four for All Might given he lived the longest of them all. Eight lives written down in excruciating detail from quirks, to experiences, to the passing of One For All, all the way to favorite colors or recipes. 

But enough reminiscing. 

I: I don’t have to prove it, I still know it. What do you prefer to call him, All For One or Sensei?

Shigaraki trembles minutely across from him, and before he can respond, Izuku is already sending more messages. 

I: I know a lot about you as well, Shigaraki. Or should I call you Shimura?

I: I know you don’t actually like the life you’re leading, that it has been forced on you from a young age. 

I: I know you regret killing your family, not including your abusive father. 

I: And above all, I know you were quirkless once upon a time.

“How-” Shigaraki starts to whisper, but he quickly types out a message instead, adhering to the agreement of the meeting. I’m not quirkless. 

I: Then why do you wear Primordial shoes, the shoes of the quirkless, to accommodate the extra toe joint?

M: You don’t know anything about me!

I: Then break it down for me. Why do you REALLY hate heroes? Because AFO told you to? Or is there an actual reason?

M: Heroes are selfish and entitled obviously. 

I: Okay, and?

M: And what?

I: Why else? Is that it? Because heroes are ‘selfish’? Because I’ll admit, some heroes are quite selfish, and are only in it for fame and money. But to call heroes as a whole one thing based on the few is impractical and illogical, it’s like saying all dogs are rabid beasts, or all villains psychopathic murderers with no remorse or morals. So why do you-

I: -Actually hate heroes? Give me a reason, a REAL reason, and I’ll back off from your operations. 

M: I already gave you a reason!

I: No. You gave me an excuse. Give me a reason with logic, with passion, with actual standing. Give me something to work with here. I’m not all knowing. I can’t read your mind, or see your true emotions. So tell me why, actually why, you hate heroes. 

The chat log is silent for a while, and Izuku watches as Shigaraki’s character is killed. Izuku doesn’t bother trying to save his own character, the game sucks anyways. When Shigaraki takes too long to respond, Izuku messages back one last time before logging off and leaving as quietly as he came. 

M: When you figure it out, give me a call. Here’s my burner number. +8124-210-8217

Chapter Text

Nezu likes puzzles, especially difficult ones.

The thing with puzzles is that there is always a solution, always an answer. As long as you use your brain and work at it, you can always complete a puzzle. He personally thinks it may be a by-product of both his quirk, and being experimented on by humans and treated like a lab rat. Nezu, given his higher intelligence, doesn’t find difficult puzzles to do all that often anymore. The record for the longest time he took on a puzzle was two hours, and that’s because Shouta purposefully made it answerless. It was one of their first bonding experiences. Shouta got to outsmart the smartest person he knows, and Nezu had his worldview changed slightly.

It seems Shouta has given him a new puzzle with no answers.

A quirkless child with a mind comparable to his when it comes to quirks, who ran away even though there had been no warning signs in his behavior previously. One whose thought process was visible and especially riveting to follow along with in the notebooks Nezu has read. One who left a note that basically said that he doesn’t want to leave, but he has to for some reason or another, and that he does plan to return home eventually. A quirkless child who had received an email with the exact same confusing sequence of numbers and letters.

An email that came the night before his birthday, or should he say, the very morning of.

There are far too many similarities in the two-now three- missing person’s cases that have no correlation to any other case being worked on currently or in the past thirty years. The last one, a boy Midoriya’s age, named Shinso Hitoshi, is the only outlier of the three.

Midoriya and Shouta had no reason to run away until that specific code was sent, but Shinso did. Midoriya, Shouta and Shinso all disappeared in the middle of the night the morning of their birthdays. Midoriya and Shouta both received emails with that code, while Shinso did not.

Shinso has to lead to the key.

Or perhaps he is the key? Shinso had a reason to run away, and seemed to have set a plan in place beforehand. The foster parents, before they were arrested, explained that Shinso had stolen roughly two million yen (~17,500 US Dollars, give or take) from their safe, and supplies for winter such as a blanket and heavy clothing. He disappeared from street cameras until he arrived at a late night train, took a train to Aichi Prefecture, and disappeared shortly after once more.

Midoriya only appeared on cameras at the train station closest to UA, and was met by someone with the same height and build of Shinso. They took a train into Gifu Prefecture, and disappeared once more. Shouta was in Mustafu the entire time when he went missing, from the precinct, to the abandoned building. After that he disappeared, and didn’t reappear again.

But all three knew the code.

Shinso had emailed Midoriya the code the night he went missing. An unknown entity with an email address that targeted Nezu himself sent the code to Shouta. If it was only Shouta, like he’d thought in the beginning, Nezu believed it was because of Shouta’s connection to Nezu. The code has no meaning to himself, nor any of his remaining staff members, and no one has received an email like Shouta did since. He and Shouta were careful not to broadcast their closeness, so how someone would have known Nezu was quite fond of Shouta is a mystery.

But with these two children, it changes things.

Neither children were living close enough at any time for them to have met, none of Shinso’s previous foster homes having been in Midoriya’s district, or close to it. They would not have crossed paths with each other in person. Nezu has checked every form of social media the boys owned- and how Midoriya knew how to access the darker sections of the internet escapes him as well, but he can certainly take a guess. A child that intelligent, by quirk or otherwise, likely ostracized by his peers, if not abused by them completely, would find somewhere to be seen and heard.

Shinso may be the outlier, but Midoriya is the mystery.

Nezu found plenty of online forums and reddits the child was a part of, mostly anything to do with heroes. From the photos of the boy’s room, Midoriya was a huge fanboy. Obsessive even. Mostly of All Might, but it was clear that the child loves all heroes indiscriminately. There are three forums that are out of the ordinary, regarding the hero obsession. One was a dedicated, well protected forum for the quirkless. It requires background checks and permission given by the moderators only after a certain point of evaluation. Midoriya didn’t participate often, but it was a place where he vented about the bullying and discrimination, and recieved comfort from those who were like him.

The second one was a dedicated forum to underground heroes and vigilantes. While both children were on forums of the kind, they weren’t on the same one. No private messages between each other in either of their accounts. It’s the last one that worries Nezu a little bit.

The last forum was one where villains often frequented. While normally, this would raise more suspicions in Nezu’s mind, it doesn’t. He’s linked Midoriya to being an anonymous tip raiser, someone who calls the police with tips on villain activity. Always from a payphone, and it took Nezu tracking the boy through his entire life to connect the dots, but it’s clear to him that he takes what he sees on the forum and reports it.

He’s clever about it too.

He doesn’t report everything he sees, only ones where people are clearly going to get hurt. He keeps silent on the forum, lurking without contributing. He doesn’t tip until the very last moment where it would be effective, to raise less suspicions among the villain community. His tips are almost always call ins, and from what few recordings Nezu could listen to, he’s good at masking his age. Deepening or raising his voice, speaking with authority, using words an adult would use. To Nezu, the practiced speech-like quality of the boy’s information is clear, but it wouldn’t be to the average human.

Midoriya is his own puzzle, missing case not included.

Intelligent, but his grades run middle of the pack. Resourceful, but he doesn’t stand up for himself, only others. He’s quick on his feet, but he doesn’t always run away from a beating. Nezu has watched through cameras as the child was a few seconds longer of getting away without harm, and then he stops moving, waiting, before taking off again and purposefully going into an alleyway without cameras. Always leaving with bruises, but on those occasions, there’s satisfaction in his face.

Nezu wonders, idly, in the back of his mind when he’s alone with his thoughts, what a conversation with Midoriya would be like.

Or a game of chess.

It makes Nezu want to find the boy even more than his strange connection to Shouta, if only to satisfy his curiosity. How does a child who is beaten and broken and put down on a daily basis for something out of his control become the deviously clever young man Nezu has found him to be? Someone with a smile that’s a little broken, but far more bright than All Might’s could hope to be? And what has become of him since he ran away?

So many questions, answers to none.

Nezu ends up forcefully changing thought processes in order to stop spiraling in a whirlpool of answerless puzzles. If he keeps pondering on what Midoriya is and isn’t, he’ll drive himself mad with a need to know. So he changes over to the case of Japan’s newest and brightest vigilantes.

Silence, Secret, and Soldier, with Sequence as their hacker and informant.

The three of them are unlike any vigilantes Nezu has seen before. For one, they don’t stick to a regular patrol route, they go all around the country. They’ve even been spotted on the edges of China where Japan rests. Another thing is their patterns.

Which is the fact that they hardly have one.

Patterns and puzzles are the way of the world, and these vigilantes defy both. Their miniscule pattern is only the fact that their base-and he knows there is one, Sequence is a smooth talker, but Nezu is better- is located somewhere in the Chubu region. Mostly spotted around Nagano, Shizuoka-where UA is- Gifu, and Aichi. They also split up often, whereas most vigilante teams don’t stray far from their partners.

Their fighting styles are a mix between professional training, street fighting, and something more. Something deadlier than anything Nezu has seen outside of the Commission’s elite agents (assassins) and perhaps even more so. And yet, they have yet to actually kill anyone, that they have been connected to at least.

Not to mention, they’re particularly tied with UA Staff for one reason or another.

Toga Himiko, sent to Vlad King with instructions to take care of her or else, and a promise of a favor. She’s been readjusting well, and Hound Dog says she’s very open in their sessions. Vlad King had done a home check with her parents, arrested them, and officially adopted her within three days. With Nezu’s help, the entire process went ten times faster than it usually would. Chiyo has offered to set up a charity blood bank among the staff and students in order to keep Toga’s craving for blood satiated. Luckily, blood is not a staple in her diet, so she only needs about a bag of blood a day to keep from starving herself.

Bubaigawara Jin, sent to Hound Dog with enough yen to pay for two years’ worth of therapy sessions, another promise of retribution, and a promise of a favor. Jin, as he’s requested everyone to call him, was the most surprising one the vigilantes helped. They put a lot of effort and money into getting the young man the help he needs, and that, more than anything else the three have done, has spoken volumes of their characters.

And lastly, Todoroki Touya, sent to Tsukauchi, who has been more involved with UA than not since Shouta’s disappearance, with a veritable noose for Endeavor’s career, and ideas to end his private life as well, and a promise of a favor. Learning Endeavor has been abusing his family for decades right underneath Nezu’s nose is a personal affront. Nezu will not let him get away with it, when the time comes. Until then, he will not interfere with Tsukauchi’s investigations.

Things get blown out of proportion when Nezu gets involved early, and that would cause issues.

The media has also caught wind of them, and while at first they were treated like other vigilantes-put down and demeaned so the public didn’t get too many bright ideas- their tune soon changed, out of the blue. The Snakes as the media calls them, complete with a cute little logo. Now, they’re being treated much like lower rank heroes climbing the charts quickly. All excessive praise and expectations of the future from them.

Best part is, the vigilantes don’t seem to care.

These vigilantes are a curious sort. More often than not, vigilantes don’t last long. Whether it’s due to them not being able to handle the stress that comes with a secret identity, both mentally and physically, or because they are killed. Due to lack of professional training, support items, credible information and a good option for medical care, the mortality rates for vigilantes are high. And if they aren’t taken out by death or stress, it’s because they’re recruited by an official agency and given the chance to get a license.

And yet, these three defy those standards.

Well made support items by one of their own. Basic to advanced medical knowledge by all three of them, varying from one to another. Someone who works as the man in the chair that gives them information to use. These three act as their own small underground hero agency.

Sequence is an entirely different subject as well. Intelligence to keep pace with Nezu, strong opinions and not afraid to share them, and yet unbelievably kind. They don’t treat Nezu like a higher being, a lesser being, or a threat. He just is. Nezu finds himself growing fond of his and Sequence’s conversations. He looks forward to the few hours Sequence can spare him, just for the conversation, and not even the information Sequence might let slip.

Although it is most certainly a bonus.

He’s gathered a small amount of useless data on the three vigilantes through his conversations with Sequence. Silence has insomnia, and it’s hell to make him sleep unless he’s ready to pass out. Soldier has a bad habit of not eating actual meals. Secret made the support items himself. Soldier has a lover, and he’s older than the other two. Silence is constantly risking Secret’s wrath with stupid stunts.

Useless, but insightful.

These small little details Nezu is given like starving animals are given scraps- and he hates that analogy even if it feels accurate- help him get a better reading on the personalities of the three vigilantes. The picture Sequence paints of the three’s interpersonal relationships is interesting. Silence and Soldier act like parent and child, and Secret is a part of that dynamic but separated slightly. Like he's a child or father-adjacent.

Nezu can’t help but find himself growing more curious by the day.

Within a few months, these vigilantes, these Snakes, have done more to change the system than Nezu himself has managed. Nezu is constantly stonewalled by the Commission due to them perceiving him as a threat, so his strides in change are small, slow, and marginally localized. He’s still trying to convince the school board to change the entrance exams, but given at least half of the board are on the Commission payroll, and the rest are likely being blackmailed, progress in that nature is near impossible.

And these young men have done so much in only a few month’s time.

There have been rallies and protests in the streets up and down the country, one of the bigger movements being in Tokyo. People are in outcry, demanding a response to the accusations laid at the Commission’s feet. Already smaller cities have begun a time of reform. Even other countries have people standing with the Japanese citizens, demanding their own reforms. Americans are demanding that heroes be given more training, since civilian casualty rates are high there. Chinese citizens are demanding a looser hold on quirk usage laws. Switzerland, one of the most neutral countries in history, is dealing with riots and looting, the people demanding for more anti-discrimination laws.

Japan was one of the first countries to advocate for rights for the quirked population, and because of Secret, Silence, Soldier and Sequence, movements and reform has begun worldwide. And Japan is once again in the heart of it. Nezu’s heart feels lighter than it has in a decade as his dreams are becoming reality, even if not by his own hand.

He’s standing in the center of a new Era, and it’s about high time he takes matters into his own hands.

Chapter Text

She can do this. She can do this. 

Just one more day and she can finally rest. Fuyumi has worked her ass off for the past two months. Her body has become stronger, and she finally made her goal to last the full hour, in fact, she can half reliably last an hour and a half. Her strength ‘stats’ as Touya calls it- he’s become obsessed with video games over the past two months and it’s honestly too cute to make fun of- has increased drastically. She can carry a full grown man- usually Touya, but Naomasa sometimes helps alleviate the monotony of the exercise- up to about a mile now. 

Her quirk control has increased as well, and she can make fire without even thinking about it, though her ice still comes sluggishly. 

It’s actually gotten to the point where she has to actively bottle up her fire when around Endeavor (Touya has her calling him that instead of Father now to further increase her distance to the man emotionally, and it’s honestly helped a lot) or else risk showing her cards before the game even truly begins. She can always feel it underneath her skin whenever they fail to drag Shouto away from training, ready to burn and burn bright. She’s lucky that Endeavor hasn’t caught on to her fire yet, honestly, given little flames spark from her fingers whenever he manages to aggravate and irritate her.

That’s another change in her life.

Her anger is a lot more insistent now, and she’s found herself biting through her tongue- literally- on more than one occasion to avoid saying something that she might regret. But she’s learning to cope with the new emotion. Or perhaps not new, but no longer restrained. Naomasa, and her heart warms knowing she can call him that now, has insisted she start seeing a therapist on her days off once every other week. Once the exams are over and done with, the plan is for all of them to start going to therapy twice a week, but this is the most she can handle right now. 

With everything going on, even just the bi-weekly session is almost too much.

But that’s not something she wants to think about, so she continues reviewing her ‘stats’. Her speed has picked up exponentially, and now that most of her body fat has left her and her stamina has increased with the rigorous training, it’s almost like she has a secondary (tertiary?) minor speed quirk. She can out pace Touya, Naomasa, even Shouto eventually falls behind her in a race. 

She’s slowly become addicted to running. 

It’s freeing, thrilling, being able to feel the wind in her face and the burn in her legs and the ache in her lungs. Running, jogging, sprinting, all of it has become her go to stress relief. Her mind is always calm and clear while she runs, and her heart feels lighter. She feels like she can fly when her feet pound against the pavement or the dirt or the sand of a beach. 

Another thing she enjoys is yoga, if only to bask in her brother’s winces when she becomes particularly pretzel-like. 

As for her studies, she’s pretty confident she can not only pass, but make top marks. Naomasa tested her only yesterday on anything and everything that could possibly be on the officer’s and detective’s exams, and she managed a solid eighty-five percent. Given that not everything she learned will be on the exam, she and Touya have made a bet to see whether she makes it into the top three percentile. Touya bet that she’ll make the top ten, but she thinks she can do it, she thinks she can make top three. 

Shouto, sweet little Shouto, claims that she’ll make the highest marks out of anyone taking the test.

It might be brotherly encouragement for the most part, but Fuyumi appreciates it all the same. Everything is going so smoothly that the pessimist in her wonders when the other shoe will drop. What will be the thing to break the streak of good? Will Endeavor end up ‘training’ Shouto too hard by the time the test is over at the end of the day? Will she fail the exam? Will she lose control of her new fire quirk and hurt someone?

She can’t help but worry that-

“Yumi!” Shouto whisper-yells as he barges into the room, Natsuo hot on his tail. She hasn’t even removed herself from bed yet, hasn’t even done her morning stretches. The two of them quietly close the door and race across her room to jump into bed with her. She grunts as one of Natsuo’s elbows nail her in the side as the two of them get under the blankets with her and block her in on both sides. 

This is, by far, one of the best changes to happen in the past two months.

Shouto and Natsuo have begun to almost cling to her, seeking affection where they never used to Before. Shouto loves hugs, or just pressing into her side. He hates his hair being ruffled, but will push into her hand for head pats, a sweet little smile gracing his face every time, a light blush on his cheeks. He likes to hold her hand too, his cold hand in hers because her new raised body heat warms his hand up. 

Natsuo will accept just about anything she gives him. 

Head pats, hair ruffles, hugs, you name it. He likes to lay his head or feet in her lap, or curl up into her side. His smile is always bright when she offers affection, and he always accepts eagerly. Very rarely do they seek it out themselves, but even on the worst of days they won’t deny her. Who knew that the prospect of taking Endeavor out of their lives was enough to rebuild her relationship with her baby brothers?

And it’s not just them either. 

Touya is still relatively skittish when it comes to physical touch, but the one thing he always does with her is press their foreheads together while holding the back of her head. It’s usually after she does good in her training or studies, or just does anything he can even relatively be proud about. Win a race between her brother? Forehead touch. Try a food she never tried before? Forehead touch. Down three shots in one go without gagging? 

She’s a grown ass adult, she can drink if she wants to.

Naomasa accepts and offers affection too. With Touya, it’s mainly hair ruffles. With Natsuo, it’s an arm over the shoulders with a quick squeeze. With Shouto it’s usually brushing his hair gently off his scar. Fuyumi gets full hugs and shoulder squeezes. She wouldn’t say it to his face, but the man has quickly become a father figure for all of her boys, and even herself. 

Naomasa is a gentle soul, someone who takes on more than he should because he wants to help as many people as possible. He puts the same amount of effort into a minor shoplifting case as he does a kidnapped child or a murder. He works diligently without expectation of reward, and he never raises his voice. He gets loud, but he never yells in anger. 

He is kind, patient, and encouraging. 

She wants to do good. She wants to pass this test and the next just so he’ll have that spark of pride in his eyes. It’s almost like an addiction. She’s never had someone be proud of her like her brothers and Naomasa are right now, and she wants more of it. 

“Yumi, are you okay?” Natsuo asks quietly into the dark room, bringing her back to herself. In response, she curls her arms tighter around her boys, her baby brothers, and pulls them in closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mind is just wandering a bit. What are you two doing up so early anyways?” Fuyumi says. Shouto nudges his head into the crook of her neck.

“We’re worried.” Natsuo says. Shouto nods into her shoulder.

“You don’t have to take the test for me.” Shouto says. 

“Oh boys.” Fuyumi sighs, hugging them tight for a second, just long enough that Natsuo squirms in her hold. “I want to do this, and I’m ready. Touya thinks so, Naomasa thinks so. Today is going to be just fine, no need to worry about me.”

“I wish we could be there for you like Touya will.” Shouto says. 

“You’ll be there with me every step, because I hold you in my heart. Death itself could not change that, remember that.” Fuyumi says firmly, glancing at the clock to make sure they’re both back in their rooms before Endeavor can wake up. They still have an hour or two. “You two go to school, and when you get home I’ll be a certified police officer. And we’ll go get ice cream to celebrate.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, and then Shouto lifts his head to look at her with wide eyes shadowed by darkness and messy hair. She gently brushes some of his hair off his face. “You promise? You’ll pass and get your licenses and then save us?” 

“I swear on my life Shouto,” Fuyumi says. “Whether I pass this test or not, we are not staying here. I will sooner steal you both away in the night than let that man make you suffer any longer.”

“I love you.” Shouto says, tone serious, and eyes imploring. Her breath hitches slightly as emotion wells up in her like a broken dam. He’s never said that to her before, not since before his quirk came in. 

“I love you both so much,” Fuyumi says in return, words choked in the back of her throat. “I will do anything for you boys. Say the word and I’ll do it, always. You two mean so much to me, you have no idea.” Shouto smiles his small little smile at her and settles back into her side. The three of them lay in silence as her boys drift off into sleep, Fuyumi running a hand up and down Shouto’s back, her other gently combing through Natsuo’s hair. She’ll let them sleep until the very last moment to get them back in their rooms. 

Pressing a kiss into Shouto’s hair, she closes her eyes and relaxes into her pillows. She doesn’t have to get up and do her stretches just yet anyways.

Chapter Text

Touya is so fucking proud of his sister.

The physical test hasn’t even started yet, but just one look at all the other rookies and he knows in his very soul that she will be at the top of the class. These losers have spent however fucking long in an actual classroom, learning at the pace of the teacher, only exercising during class exercises, and it shows. They look cocky, untested and ammaturish. A few of the guys are goofing off to the side, while his twin sister is doing her warm up stretches and jumping jacks. 

They look at her in ways that makes Touya want to ice them to the ground. 

Objectively, he knows his little sister is beautiful. Her stark white hair with the red streaks, her gray eyes, her smile, it all adds to her beauty. He gets this. He does. But can these fucking losers not see the amount of effort and work she put in to pass this test? Can they not see her focus, her determination, do they not respect that she is working to do the exact same thing they are with half the resources? How can they look at her and think only of what she looks like?

Touya wants to knock their heads together, but he can’t for a handful of reasons. 

Reason number one and most important of all, his sister can handle herself. He hasn’t trained her into the ground for no reason after all. Even though she’s not going to be an actual cop and detective, and even though she wants to be a teacher, he wants to know she can handle herself in a fight. And damn can she handle herself, he can’t count the amount of times in the last two months she’s knocked him on his ass.

Reason number two, he isn’t allowed to interfere.

He’s literally not even supposed to be here, but Naomasa pulled some strings to get him to watch. He can watch on the sidelines, but he can not interact with any applicants before or during the tests. He can’t cheer his sister on or boo the others, he can’t do anything but sit and watch in silence. 

And reason number three, he wants to see those assholes' faces when she outmatches them.

The instructor calls everyone to attention, and Touya leans forward in anticipation. It seems the first test is going to be physical abilities. Most sit ups, push ups, etc. in a limited amount of time. Touya smirks at the same time Fuyumi does. These little boys don’t know what’s about to hit them. The applicants go one at a time, and Touya is not impressed. The guys are decent, yes. They clearly trained for this. 

But he can also tell they only trained to meet the minimum requirements. 

Touya had no idea what the requirements to pass were while training Fuyumi, so he pushed her and pushed her until she could go no further. Then he pushed her even more the day after. She’s not only going to pass, she’s going to demolish the competition. 

When Fuyumi goes up, Touya is unsurprised at how much further she goes than everyone who went before her. She doesn’t even stop once time is called at first, her face falling into that blank look of concentration she gets when she’s in the zone. It takes a few seconds for the instructor to grab her attention and make her stop. The girl who goes right after though? She keeps up with Fuyumi’s score effortlessly.

This pattern continues through all the physical requirements. 

The other woman, the only other woman taking the test, matches Fuyumi step for step, and Touya can see a fire light in his sister’s eyes even from a distance. She’s smaller than Fuyumi, lyth and short, with bright neon green hair in an undercut. The woman has a mutation based quirk from what he can tell, with strange little antennae peeking out from under her hair. They twitch and move, straightening up or flattening down, and Touya wonders what they do. He wonders if Secret- Midoriya Izuku, a literal child - would have figured out yet or not. 

He wouldn’t be shocked if the kid would. 

After the physical tests, the group moves onto the shooting ranges, and the guys seem to gain more confidence here. One of them even claims he’s a natural aim and will definitely make the best marks on the exam. Touya is doubtful. Naomasa handled Fuyumi’s weapons training, so he doesn’t know exactly how good of a shot his sister is, but from the natural movements of the woman with neon hair as she assembles and disassembles her gun, Touya knows where to place his money. 

And yeah, he’s got that right. 

Neon, as he’s going to call her until he finds out her name, is the first one up to shoot. Touya watches as she nails every single one of the targets in the head, dead center, and not even second guessing moving past a civilian tagged target. In the minute and a half it takes her to complete the range, only three targets weren’t perfect scores, but they were still nailed in the head. 

Fuyumi takes the stage right after, quite literally shoving a man out of her way in her eagerness. 

Fuyumi does just about the same as Neon, in just a little more time. He snorts in amusement when the two of them share a look of frustration as they step to the side. They stand next to each other, Fuyumi with her arms crossed, Neon with her hands behind her head. They don’t speak, other than the few quiet comments that make the other snort in amusement. Touya is not ashamed to admit to himself that he thinks it’s cute. His baby sister is making a friend, how sweet. 

The rest of the tests are rather boring, just more physical training things like endurance runs and flexibility- which his sister absolutely beats Neon and everyone else at, even if he has to look away from the painful position she’s twisted herself into. All in all, the test goes so well that Touya doesn’t even bother hiding his smile when it’s over. Fuyumi and Neon are off to the side talking while ignoring the glares of the men around them. Touya stalks up and throws an arm over his sister’s shoulder in a rare display of affection.

“Look at you, all grown up and making men cry, I’m so proud.” Touya says, wiping a fake tear off his face. Fuyumi scoffs and shoves his face away with her hand. 

“Oh go to hell, Touya.” Fuyumi says, even though her ears are red. “It wasn’t that impressive.”

“Au contraire little icycle,” Touya says seriously. “You and Neon over here knocked the socks off these guys. Man, watching their faces was the best entertainment I’ve had all week.” 

“And who the hell are you?” Neon says, sneering at him. Touya arches an eyebrow.

“What, can’t you see the family resemblance?” He says, gesturing between his sister’s face and his own. Neon rolls her eyes at him. “I’m Touya, and you are?”

“Not interested.” Neon says blankly. Touya scoffs. 

“Oh please sweetheart, you aren’t my type. Missing a few key details below the belt if you know what I mean.” Touya shoots back. Neon actually snorts while Fuyumi gasps. 

“Touya!”

“What?” Touya responds, hands in the air defensively. “It’s true!”

“I’m Hironake Ayane. Nice to meet you both.” Hironake cuts in before his sister can start smacking him. “I’ll see you when the results are up, Fuyumi.”

Touya waits until she’s walking away to turn to his sister and press his forehead against hers. He doesn’t really like skin on skin contact very often, given that his arms and chest are still rather sensitive from the fading scars, but this is his way of sharing contact with his sister. She hums as she leans into him, the two of them holding the position for a moment longer than usual. 

“I am so fucking proud of you Icycle.” Touya whispers. “You have grown up so much in such a short time, and I am honored to have been there with you every step of the way.”

“Touya.” Fuyumi whines. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

He laughs, lets her go, and nods towards the building. The test results should be in within the hour, so all they have to do is wait. They head inside in silence, hands linked loosely. It’s still strange, feeling heat come from his sister’s skin, while his own is rather cold. To think, all this time, all the abuse and suffering and living on the streets, all because he was using his quirk wrong. 

Well, joke’s on Endeavor. He has three powerful kids now, and he didn’t have a hand in any of their progress. If anything, Endeavor only set Touya and Shouto back in their progress. Soon enough now, Endeavor will be out of their lives for good. All because his sister is a badass. 

Touya wonders what his life would have been like if Secret, Silence, and Soldier didn’t find him that day. 

Would he ever have this? This beautiful relationship with his siblings, the chance to take down Endeavor the legal way? Would he still be on the streets, burning himself alive if only to survive? If he’s being completely honest with himself, he probably would have gone down a much darker path. He probably would have been Endeavor’s second coming. Even now, he still sometimes wants to burn with his rage and take his abusive father down with him. 

But then he thinks of his family. 

Fuyumi, who has given her everything for what almost seems like a longshot plan. Shouto, who is so endearingly kind. Natsuo, who has recently decided he wants to help people, but by being a surgeon instead of a hero. Even Nao, the man who opened up his home to a stranger just because he wanted to help. 

Nao, who brings home at least twelve cases a night to complete off duty. Who sacrifices his own sleep just to bring these people justice in the only way he knows how. Who loves to read, but his taste in books are horribly written romance novels that basically have the same exact plots everytime in a different font. Nao, who can’t cook for shit, but he still tries anyways just for Touya, before defeatedly ordering take out when the food comes out inedible. Nao, who spoils his baby brothers, and who has taken Yumi under his wing to guide and teach. 

Yeah, Naomasa is definitely family now. 

Shouto looks at the man like he hung the moon in the sky. Natsuo hangs off Nao’s every word when he tells stories of past cases. Yumi brightens every time Nao even mutters a good job in her direction. Touya himself can’t help but treat the man like a father, or even an older brother figure. 

“Hey, the results are up.” Yumi whispers to him, and they stand to look at the bulletin board with the results. Touya elbows his way to the front of the group, Fuyumi and Hironake using the path he clears to follow. He starts at the top of the list, and he doesn’t have to go any further. 

In first place with the highest scores, Hironake Ayane. And right below, with only a few points less, is his beautiful, intelligent, perfect twin sister. Fuyumi’s eyes water and she clamps a hand over her mouth, while Hironake laughs boisterously, swinging an arm around Yumi’s waist and cheering.

“Hey you two, come on, let’s get out of here!” The two of them follow Hironake diligently as she carves her own path from the disgruntled men, elbows jabbing harshly into sides as she makes her way through. As they leave the building, Hironake hands Yumi her phone. “Give me your number, we’re getting drinks sometime!”

“Oh, uh, okay!” Fuyumi responds, eagerly entering her phone number. Touya smiles at her fondly as her hands shake from excitement. 

“I guess you can come too.” Hironake tacks on, looking at Touya, and he rolls his eyes. Before Yumi can hand the phone back to Hironake, Touya snatches it and enters his own number. He makes his contact name Hot Gay Asshole. He sends himself a text before handing it back to Hironake, who looks at the contact and laughs sharply. “At least you’re self aware!”

Hironake walks away without another word and he looks at Fuyumi. “Ready to share the good news with everyone?”

Fuyumi smiles, lips trembling. She sniffs and wipes at her watery eyes. “Yeah, yeah let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Izuku. Fucking. Called it.

He knew it, he knew it. He knew this would happen sooner or later. They were working on borrowed time, and now Time has come to collect. Karma hates him, this is not new, but did she really have to take it out on Shouta? 

It was a routine little mission, shutting down one of the Yakuza’s other facilities. 

Eri turned three in December, which means any time before her fourth birthday at the end of this year, her quirk will come in. They know that Eri will be ‘taken in’ by Overhaul shortly after her quirk comes in, and they want to get to her as soon as logically possible. They need to leave her in Overhaul’s ‘care’ for at least a little while, so that when they take her away, they have a reason for the heroes not to send her back. Otherwise it’s just plain kidnapping.

They know in three years, after Izuku got his provisional license, where Overhaul will have her kept, but the building Izuku remembers is currently abandoned. They must have moved in sometime within the next few years, but Izuku doesn’t want to wait that long. It’s why they’ve been attacking Yakuza bases in order to try and coral them into the building Izuku already knows the layout of. Since the labs have all been abandoned by now and relocated, Izuku has to relocate where they are, so making moves on Overhaul is their next step. 

This base was supposed to be abandoned dammit. 

The job was to burn it to the ground, and take any vital evidence or information with them. But when they went inside, they were ambushed by four of the Eight Precepts. They came out on top, of course, but not without making sacrifices. 

Which is why Izuku knows Karma has finally caught up to him. 

Shouta took a huge hit to the side, ripping a hole straight through him the size of Izuku’s fist. If Izuku remembers correctly, it was that diamond/crystal creating asshole that Suneater fought and defeated in the original raid. One of the pieces of crystal struck Shouta, and he went down. Hitoshi was the only reason they got out of there intact, and victorious. 

Now Hitoshi may be the reason they die, because of his shitty driving. 

“Would you keep the car steady, I’m kind of trying to save a life here!” Izuku screams at Hitoshi as he makes a sharp curve that sends Izuku slamming into the backseat car door. Shouta is laid out across the backseat awkwardly, Hitoshi is driving, Izuku is crouched on the floorboard trying to perform field surgery. 

“You want him alive or not!?” Hitoshi screams back at him. Izuku doesn’t bother responding as he uses his teeth to keep the bandages he had wrapped around Shouta’s chest tight. His hands are full with the emergency blood transfusion tube he’s putting together. Suddenly, there’s another voice, tinny and almost drowned out by the honking cars around them. 

“This is Principle Nezu speaking, I apologize but I’m in the middle of-”

“Is Recovery Girl with you!?” Hitoshi screams. Ah, so that’s where they’re going. He’s been a little preoccupied. Izuku sticks the needle harshly into his arm with a grunt, then grabs a tourniquet wrap to tie around his upper arm. He pins it between his teeth with the bandage as well. 

“Excuse me? Who is-”

“Dammit Nezu, this is Silence, is Recovery Girl with you!?”

“Yes, she is. I’ll put you on speaker.”

“Wonderful, Secret, RG is on the phone.” Hitoshi says, far more calmly than he’s been since they stole the car. The car lurches as Hitoshi speeds up suddenly. Izuku finishes setting up the transfusion tube, suddenly infinitely grateful he’s a universal donor. Once he does, he removes the bandage and tourniquet wrap from his mouth. The tourniquet he finally finishes wrapping so he doesn’t have to hold it tight, but the bandage he quickly unwraps. There’s too much blood, he needs to sew the wound closed or the transfusion will be useless. 

“Secret!”

“Hold on asshole!”

“What’s going on, dearies?” Recovery Girl says calmly and firmly. Izuku doesn’t answer as he finishes setting up the needle and thread in order to sew Shouta up, and Hitoshi growls at him. 

“Secret!”

“Hold on a second!” Izuku yells back. As soon as the thread is secured, he answers Recovery Girl’s question in one breath. “Soldier was injured, a hole about the size of a small fist that was through and through located to the left of the abdomen. I’ve set up a blood transfusion to keep him from bleeding out, and I’m about to sew the skin closed. I’m not sure what the internal damage looks like, but it looks bad enough.” Izuku reports. 

“Where are you?”

“Not sure, driving too fast to see any road signs.” Hitoshi answers. Izuku is launched into the door again as Hitoshi swiftly takes an off ramp. It makes pain flare up from his broken leg, but he just grits his teeth and keeps trying to sew Shouta up when he’s being thrown around in a moving vehicle. All three of their outfits are equipped with heavy duty medical supplies, but Izuku’s set also has what all he needs for field surgery. Though it’s a bit difficult to do field surgery when he’s tossed around like a goddamn salad.

“How far out are you?” Hizashi’s voice suddenly says. Izuku suddenly wonders if they’re interrupting anything at UA. Too late now, he supposes. 

“The GPS says an hour, but it also said two hours thirty minutes ago, so somewhere around thirty minutes. Give or take based on traffic.” Hitoshi answers and then, “Oh dear.” Izuku may not have Danger Sense right now, but he knows that tone, and alarm bells in his head start ringing anyways. 

“What ‘oh dear’? What’s going on?” Izuku asks. He fights the urge to look out the windshield, since he’s currently got a needle in Shouta’s skin. “Silence, what’s going on!?”

“You should really brace yourself right about now.” Hitoshi responds calmly, and that calm tone freaks him out even more. “This ride is about to get a little bumpy.” 

“What do you-SILENCE WHAT THE FUCK!?” Izuku screams as he has to not only brace himself, but Shouta as well. Whatever the hell Hitoshi just did, it made the car flip upside down. They make a full twist and land harshly back on the wheels, before the car tips to the right and stays there. Izuku clings to the door- the one he hasn’t been thrown into yet- and screams. He can hear sparks and scraping coming from the car from whatever the hell they’re driving against on two wheels. 

“Hold on!” Hitoshi yells, and suddenly the car is back on four wheels, before tipping to the left, and throwing Izuku back into the left car door. His scream is of pain this time when his already broken leg gets twisted. 

“What’s going on!?” Hizashi is yelling, and Izuku answers hysterically. 

“Silence is trying to kill us!”

“I am not, don’t be such a baby!”

“Who taught you how to drive!?”

“Dad did!” Hitoshi answers, and they’re both quiet as the car finally rights itself and stays that way. Izuku suddenly understands, and he tries to shove Shouta back into the backseat. Shouta’s been half-tossed into the floorboard, and picking a grown ass man up with no way to get any leverage is not exactly easy. He heaves Shouta back up with a grunt, sweating from both the effort and the pain radiating through his banged up body. “GPS says we’re about fifteen out now.”

Izuku shakily leans back over Shouta to fix the blood transfusion tube that was ripped out, and to finish sewing the wound closed. He’s a lot less precise this time, because he wants to get this done before Hitoshi tries to kill them again. Izuku turns Shouta around so he’s laying on his stomach so he can sew the other side closed. 

“We’re coming in hot, so be ready.”

“I’ve already sent a few staff members down with a gurney.” Recovery Girl responds. 

“Make sure they stay clear of the parking lot, and Nezu, please make sure the gates are open.” Hitoshi says. “Wouldn’t want to-” Hitoshi cuts off suddenly when they both register the blaring sirens. This is the second time cops have tried to run them down, but Hitoshi shook the first set off. 

“Cops.” Izuku says. 

“On it. Taking a detour, hold on.” Hitoshi commands, and then the car drifts as Hitoshi makes a sudden turn to the left. Izuku cuts the thread and turns Shouta back around before the next sharp turn. He braces himself as the car turns sharply again, and when he has a moment, he checks Shouta’s pulse. 

“Pulse is thready, hurry up!” Izuku hollars. He keeps his fingers pressed to Shouta’s neck to keep track of his pulse count.

“Yeah yeah.” Hitoshi mutters. There’s another sharp turn, and the car scrapes harshly against the walls of the alley they’re driving down. Izuku listens for the sirens, but they’re starting to fade. “Almost home free.” Hitoshi says. They break out onto a relatively quiet street, tires screeching as Hitoshi corrects the car’s course back towards UA. There’s a huge thump and crash as they take out a sign. Glass rains down on them, and Izuku covers Shouta with his body. 

Hitoshi only mutters a fuck and hisses in pain as he presses back down on the gas. 

“I see UA’s gates, we’ll be there in three,” Hitoshi pauses, “Two,” And pauses again. “One!”

The car screeches as the brakes try to do as commanded, Hitoshi drifting the car again to soften the stop. Izuku holds on tight to Shouta as the car stops, tips, and then lands back on four wheels. Hitoshi is out of the car and he’s opening the back door within moments. Ectoplasm has four clones, or maybe three clones and himself, drag Shouta out of the car and onto the gurney, taking off before Izuku can even say anything or even remove the tube from his arm. Fucking ow. 

Vlad King steps up next to help Izuku out of the car, and takes his full weight so he doesn’t have to walk on a broken leg. 

They make it to the infirmary in time to see Ectoplasm come back out. “You two need medical attention too.” He says, and Izuku shakes his head, letting go of Vlad King to lean against the wall, before just straight up collapsing to the floor with a groan. Hitoshi ends up sitting next to him. 

“Silence, status report.” Izuku says tiredly. 

“Dislocated shoulder, possible fractured wrist on same arm, sprained ankle, possible concussion, cuts, and bruises. Status report.”

“Broken leg, likely in multiple places, cuts, bruises, more likely than not I have bruised or broken ribs thanks to your shit driving. Otherwise I’ll live.” Izuku responds dully. 

“And Soldier?” 

“Major puncture wound in the abdomen, possibly a broken arm, possibly a concussion.” Hitoshi nods slightly before leaning his head back against the wall. Izuku does the same. 

“You boys look like you’ve been through quite the ordeal.” Nezu says as Hizashi approaches, Nezu is riding on his shoulder. It’s kind of a weird sight. Usually it’s Shouta that Nezu rides on. Hizashi is wearing Shouta’s scarf, even with his hero costume on, the scarf wrapped tightly to the sides of the shoulder, across the chest and back, and down the arms. 

“Indeed.” Izuku responds. 

“You should both be seen by Recovery Girl as well, when she’s done with Soldier.”

“Silence can, but I won’t.” Izuku responds. And before anyone around them can protest, he explains. “We’re vigilantes in the heart of UA. One of us needs to be awake and aware at all times just in case.”

“I’m less injured, shouldn’t you get healed first?” Hitoshi says. Izuku goes to refute, but when he breathes in, his ribs smart and make him hiss. He holds an arm around his ribs gently. “My point exactly.”

“I have a high pain tolerance, I’ll be fine.”

“Not helping your case.” Hitoshi fires back. Izuku glares at him through his goggles. Hitoshi sighs and gently grabs Izuku’s wrist with his good arm. "Look, I just worry about you, okay?"

“I know, but I want to be awake when Soldier wakes up.” 

“Sorry buddy, but I promised to take care of you.” Hitoshi says. Izuku looks down at the wrist Hitoshi is holding before snapping his head up. 

"Don't you fucking-" Izuku starts to say. 

“Sleep.” Izuku has only a moment to curse Hitoshi out in his mind before he’s listing to the side and knocked out.

Chapter Text

“What did you do to him?” Pops asks.

“Put him to sleep so he’d stop being so self sacrificing for once.” Hitoshi answers blandly. Izuku is leaning against his shoulder, completely down for the count. “Ectoplasm, could you take him to Recovery Girl too, and help me up?”

Ectoplasm quickly creates a few clones and lifts Izuku up gently. Hitoshi reaches up to adjust the hood to make sure it doesn’t fall and reveals Izuku’s hair, and then stands up with Ectoplasm’s help. They move into Chiyo’s infirmary as a group, with only Pops, Nezu, Ectoplasm and himself. Chiyo is finishing up with Dad just as they walk in, planting a smacking kiss on Dad’s wrist to avoid removing the mask or jacket. He’s relieved she respected the fact that they have secret identities because if Chiyo figured out who Dad was, doctor- patient confidentiality wouldn’t stop her from informing Nezu and Pops. 

She looks up just as Ectoplasm lays Izuku down on a bed, and sighs.

“I suppose the two of you need healing as well?” She asks. 

“None for me thanks, it would knock me out, and I need to be awake.”

Chiyo purses her lips unhappily. “If you are worried about us removing your masks, there is no need to be.”

Hitoshi almost doesn’t hold back his derisive snort. “No offense, but I’m not leaving that up to chance while in enemy territory.”

“We aren’t your enemies.” Pops says, frowning. Hitoshi sits gently into a chair he pulled to be between the two beds, with his back to the wall. 

“We’re vigilantes, everyone is our enemy in some way or another.” Hitoshi responds. 

Pops goes to respond, but Chiyo just shushes him and moves to Hitoshi’s side. Apparently she didn’t need to do much more than kiss Izuku’s skin to heal him. “You need medical attention boy.”

“I don’t want healing, but you can reset my shoulder and take care of my wrist if you like.” Hitoshi responds. He lets his head fall back against the wall, exhausted and in pain. Just because his pain tolerance is unusually high, doesn’t mean he can’t feel it. He’s just really good at distracting himself from the pain. 

“Very well. You will need to bite down on something so you don’t hurt your teeth or tongue.” Chiyo says. He opens one eye, unsure when he closed them in the first place, and looks at her disgruntled expression. He’d known her enough in the future-past to know that she is concerned. It’s well hidden, but it’s there all the same. It’s best seen in the crease of her eyebrows, and the narrowing of her eyes, the way her fingers curl just a little tighter over her syringe cane thing. 

“I can’t take off my mask in front of people.” He mutters. He doesn’t bother thinking about the fact that he did just that not too long ago with Denki, but that was a one time thing. Besides, Izuku raised enough hell about it then, he would rather not endure another two hour long lecture. Hitoshi swears on his life, if they weren’t the same age, he would be calling Izuku dad, just because he’s such a worrier. Sometimes he does it anyway, because it makes Izuku puff up like a startled cat before he stomps away to sulk for an hour. 

That’s how he gets out of most of the trouble he gets in with Izuku. 

“You can face the wall if you like, but I will not do anything unless you have something to bite down on.” Chiyo insists, and Hitoshi just grunts as he forces himself back to his feet. He turns around as ordered, slipping his mask down to his neck and keeping his head tucked low to hide his face. Logically, he knows no one could possibly identify him just by seeing the bottom half of his face, but he won’t be taking chances. That’s why they have both the goggles and the masks for all of them. 

In his peripheral vision, Chiyo holds out a thin block of wood, and he takes it with his good arm, slipping it between his teeth. “This may hurt, but I can give you some painkillers-” Hitoshi shakes his head before she can finish. “Very well.” She doesn’t sound happy, but when does she? 

Before she even touches his arm to reset his shoulder, Hitoshi reaches over and grabs Izuku’s arm on the gauntlets. When she starts rotating his shoulder to pop it into place again, a low pained keen slips out of his mouth. He holds back as much noise as he possibly can, if only to keep his voice hidden, but some of it still escapes. Sharp pains run through his arm and shoulder with every movement, and his grip tightens on Izuku’s arm. When she’s finally done with his shoulder, the pain dulls into a persistent but somewhat manageable throb, and he keeps himself still as she splints his wrist and wraps it. 

The moment she’s done, he puts his mask back on and collapses into the chair once more. 

“I’d like to wrap your shoulder, but I don’t believe you’d let me remove your shirt and jacket.” Chiyo says with a disapproving click of her tongue. She gently maneuvers his arm into a sling. “So this will have to do for now.”

“Thanks Recovery Girl.” Hitoshi says weakly, settling into the chair. “Anyone ever told you you’re a goddess among men?” Chiyo laughs and waves him off before moving to check in on Dad and Izuku. He watches her idly as he tries to even out his ragged breathing. 

“I have some questions, if you are okay to answer, Silence.” Nezu says. Hitoshi just grunts in reply. Seeming to take it as permission, Nezu continues. “Would you like to tell me what happened to bring you here, and why you decided against a hospital?”

“Hospitals won’t keep our identities concealed, and they would likely call the police. As for what happened,” Hitoshi trails off, clenching his eyes shut as the memories of the past twenty four hours runs through his head. “We were ambushed, and they got a lucky shot on Soldier. Secret went kind of crazy when Soldier went down and started to use a fighting style he shouldn’t be using right now, which made him break his leg.”

“Interesting, and why did he use this fighting style if he isn’t supposed to? And why can’t he use it in the first place?” Nezu asks. Pops takes a seat in a chair against the opposite wall to him, while Nezu stands on the foot of Izuku’s bed. If this wasn’t Nezu, Hitoshi wouldn’t like him being so close to Izuku while he’s unconscious, and while Hitoshi is still injured. 

“Because the fighting style can’t be used right now. He doesn’t have that certain something he needs to back it up. Which is why he isn’t supposed to use it.” Hitoshi responds. 

“And what is that something he’s missing?” Nezu follows up.

Hitoshi huffs a short laugh, wincing as it jostles his arm. “No comment.” 

“Very well then, I expected that. How about you explain in detail about this ambush?”

“It was just a routine raid, and the place was supposed to be abandoned for the time being. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. Outnumbered but not outmatched, they just got lucky. We still won the battle if it helps.” Hitoshi answers vaguely, since he’s not about to give the notorious Rat God an easier time discovering their identities or plans. That would be a bit counterproductive.

They were outnumbered, and while usually that wouldn’t be much issue with the three of them, a few of the Yakuza’s heavy hitters were there. One of them was about to strike Izuku down, the crystal making asshole, but Dad jumped in the way. Due to their height differences, what would have gone through Izuku’s chest went through Dad’s side instead. He was thrown into a wall, which knocked him out, and Izuku got angry. Started using Shoot Style even though he doesn’t have One For All. 

Right before Izuku broke his leg using Shoot Style, someone threw Hitoshi across the room. He was distracted, worrying about Dad, afraid they lost him. He tried to break his fall with his hand, but his wrist snapped, and he slammed into the floor on the same shoulder. Izuku broke his leg right after he hit the ground, and Hitoshi had no choice but to use his quirk, despite the migraine that was already blooming.

It was a disaster.

How Overhaul knew where to send their guys to intercept, Hitoshi doesn’t know. All he knows is that they failed. Now Overhaul is onto them, and so is All For One. It’s kind of a miracle they haven’t been killed yet, if Hitoshi is being honest. They have so many huge enemies coming after them right now, he’s kind of not surprised that they got hit so hard that Dad nearly died. Between All For One’s and the Commission’s assassins, the Shie Hassakai’s ambush, and the general villain population coming for their heads, something was bound to go wrong. They haven’t even started making moves against the Meta Liberation Army yet. 

Maybe they’re taking on too much at once. 

This would have been easier if Neito was here. That way they could pair off and get more done faster. If Shigaraki hadn’t attacked them in that last moment, none of this would be as difficult as it is. Still difficult, but not as much. 

“Silence?” Nezu asks, and Hitoshi startles. Dammit, he was so close to letting his guard down. Just because this is Nezu and Pops, doesn’t mean they’re his Nezu and Pops. If they got it into their heads to unmask even one of them, everything would be ruined. Izuku has talked about how Nezu has been asking after their civilian identities, which suggests that Nezu is close to figuring out their connection to each other. If they give him anything substantial, Nezu is definitely going to uncover their entire operation. 

“Sorry.” Hitoshi mutters as he forces his head back up off the wall. Getting lost in thought or falling asleep right now would be disastrous. 

“It’s no issue! If you would like to get some rest-”

“Not gonna happen.” Hitoshi cuts in. There’s a brief awkward silence before Pops clears his throat. 

“Has there been anything new on Eraser’s location?” Pops asks. It’s a clear and obvious change of subject, but he can’t deny that it brings him some relief. 

Hitoshi silently ponders on what he’s supposed to say. Ever since that first meeting right after Dad ‘disappeared’, Izuku handled everything regarding Dad’s missing persons case. Izuku keeps them updated on anything new that Nezu finds, including him asking after their civilian identities, but for the most part Izuku handled it as Sequence. He knows Nezu found Hitoshi’s email to Izuku with the code, and that Nezu has taken on Izuku and Hitoshi’s missing cases as well. As far as Izuku knows though, Nezu has yet to connect the dots of the three vigilantes being the three missing people connected to Eraserhead going missing. 

One wrong move, one wrong word, and bam, the jig is up. 

“Secret and Sequence have been handling your hero’s search for the most part.” Hitoshi responds slowly. “All I know is that Eraser is alive, and that Secret and Sequence have yet to locate his whereabouts.”

Pops deflates at the news. It makes Hitoshi feel even guiltier. In Pops’ eyes, Dad just disappeared without a trace, even though they’re technically in the same room at this very moment. “How can you be so sure?” 

“That he’s alive?” Hitoshi asks, and Pops nods sullenly, eyes on the floor and hands gripping his knees. He doesn’t know what to say that would line up with whatever scraps of information Izuku has fed them, however false they may be. He tries to come up with a plausible but vague reason to tell Pops, if only to make him look less broken. “I don’t know about Secret, but I know he’s alive because word of Eraser’s disappearance may have spread through the underground, but no word has spread of his death. With a hero like that, the moment Eraser takes his last breath, the criminal underworld would collectively rejoice. Just the fact that no one has seen neither hide nor hair, but no news of a death to go with it, has criminals nervous.”

Pops looks up at him in confusion, but Nezu looks very mildly pleased, tinged with sorrow, by the news. “Why’s that?”

Hitoshi kind of just stares at Pops for a moment. Then, “Do you even know who you married, Mic?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve known him since UA.” Pops responds with a silent ‘duh’ in his tone. 

“Oh honey.” Hitoshi says, in the same way Dad used to with Eri when she was still trying to figure out what normal means. “Eraserhead is not the king of the underground for no reason. If All Might makes the flashy, everyday, run of the mill villains cower in fear, Eraser makes the entirety of the intelligent criminal underground hit their knees and pray for mercy. Eraserhead may be mainly stationed in Shizuoka these days, but just the whisper of his name instills fear. And with him missing, but not dead?”

“Criminals think he’s gone rogue, don’t they?” Nezu asks. His little snout twitches, and there’s a curiosity in his beady little eyes that makes his nerves fry a little. 

“Indeed. And do you know what happens, when an underground hero goes rogue, but not villainous?” Hitoshi asks. Pops shakes his head warily. “Criminals start cropping up dead, instead of tied up and turned in. They think Eraserhead has shed his hero mantle to don the mantle of an assassin.”

“But that’s ridiculous, Shouta would never kill on purpose like that.” Pops says, looking nervous. Hitoshi merely stares at him blandly. Dad has killed far more than anyone could keep count of. Hitoshi, Momo, Neito, Izuku, every single person who fought against Shigaraki’s army learned to kill and kill efficiently. Katsuki wiped out the entire Island of Hokkaido in his last stand, every Nomu, Villain, Civilian and Rebel left on the Island going out with him. If Katsuki hadn’t called for an evacuation right before, Izuku and Dad would both be dead as well.

“Everyone has their breaking point Yamada. Even a beast of a hero like Eraser.” Dad’s first breaking point was Nezu, the first real casualty of the war. There were casualties beforehand, yes, but those weren’t really in war. When Hawks turned coat and killed Nezu, his Commission handler and a few other high profile heroes and politicians in one fell swoop, Dad hit his breaking point. 

It was a silent agreement among every hero, rebel and civilian who knew of Eraserhead before the war, that the day Dad made his first kill- the bright red wings of Hawks ripped off and his throat slit so deep he was nearly beheaded- was the day the war truly began. If logical, compassionate, level headed Eraserhead was willing to kill, then the rest of them had to shape up and be ready to kill right alongside him, or die in their efforts to stay above the law of a defeated government. 

“Do you think Eraserhead went rogue?” Nezu asks when the silence drags on too long, and Hitoshi’s head threatens to fall back against the wall again. 

“I think,” Hitoshi answers slowly. “That worst comes to worst, Aizawa Shouta would be willing to do whatever it takes, even at the expense of himself.” 

Hitoshi looks away then, looking down at Dad. Watches the steady, unhindered breathing of his father’s chest as he sleeps and heals. Nezu was the first breaking point. Pops was the second. And the first loss of one of his kids, Aoyama Yuga, was the last. Aoyama was the first of the class to die, killed by Shigaraki when his use as the UA traitor was gone. There was no body to be recovered, just dust in the wind. 

Nezu was killed, and so Dad killed the killer in revenge. Pops was killed, and Dad went on a rampage, but he only killed Nomu. Lost his leg in the process. Aoyama was killed, and Dad broke his own mind so he could teach his kids how to kill right back. Hitoshi, Izuku, the rest of the remaining rebels until the Jump, they were all that kept Dad from walking off into the night and letting Shigaraki’s Nomu tear him to pieces. 

Every death, every loss, was another breaking point, and he knows that if Hitoshi himself died, after Eri was lost, then Dad would have given up. 

Hitoshi reaches out his good hand to brush along his father’s forehead, smooth in his sleep. “We all have our breaking points.” Hitoshi whispered again, and he almost didn't catch it. Dad’s eyebrow twitches, and his muscles tense. Hitoshi leaps to his feet just in time to intercept Dad as he tries to launch himself out of the bed and at the closest person who might register as a threat. 

Dad is weak at the moment, so it takes almost no effort to slam Dad back into the bed with his body. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Hitoshi says calmly. Beneath Dad’s goggles, wild eyes land on Hitoshi, foggy, and not all the way there. “Do you want me to make it better?”

Dad twitches, not quite fighting against Hitoshi holding him down, but not quite letting it happen either. “Please.” Dad whispers, raspy and weak. The voice modulator isn’t activated, and Hitoshi winces at the sound of Dad’s real voice. He hopes Nezu won’t recognize Dad’s voice when he sounds like this. 

Hitoshi grabs the thread, places his fingers over Dad’s wrist to give the impression that his quirk is touch activated, and commands him. “You will sleep, and it will be peaceful.” Hitoshi says, lacing his power into his words, and adding a few silent commands in his mind as well. You won’t wake up until your body is done healing. You won’t attack anyone when you wake up. You will dream of your wedding day. 

Dad stiffens as his quirk takes effect, and then his body relaxes and he’s asleep again, calm and peaceful. 

When Hitoshi is sure that his dad won’t fight the orders, Hitoshi heaves off of him and back into his seat. “And that,” Hitoshi addresses Pops, who had leaped to his feet and into a bracing stance, and Nezu who was tense at the foot of the bed. “Is another reason why I must stay awake. Secret will be next I’m sure.”

“Does this happen often?” Nezu asks, sounding strangely gentle. It is a far cry from the stories of sadistic glee Dad, Ecto, and Snipe had told them all a hundred times. Hitoshi merely shrugs his good shoulder as he collapses back into his chair. 

“Often enough, I suppose.” Hitoshi grunts. He slowly eases into a slumped position that doesn’t pull at his shoulder harshly. 

“Was that your quirk then?” Pops asks. “Putting people to sleep?” 

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Hitoshi says. The room falls into silence after, and Hitoshi settles in for a long night with no sleep. Pops stays in the room, but Nezu, Ectoplasm, and Chiyo eventually leave. He’d forgotten Ecto was even there, the man was just silently observing in the corner. 

Now that he thinks about it, what the hell is Ecto’s real name? And Snipe’s, for that matter. Did they really go through decades of fighting by each other’s sides and Hitoshi never learned their names? The thought stings. He decides that this time around, he’ll make them tell him their names. And he won’t ask Izuku or Dad, he wants them to tell him themselves. 

It’s the least he can do for the rebels he fought and killed with.

Chapter Text

Shouta damn near has a heart attack when he wakes up, lucid and calm, from a wonderful dream about the day he married Hizashi. Before he’s even fully aware, he knows Hitoshi must have brainwashed him at some point, because he only ever dreams of the good things after Hitoshi puts him under. Shouta opens his eyes, feeling very much not like he’s on the brink of death, which is both worrying and relieving at the same time. 

He’s in a standard hospital type room, which brings back the worry, but he feels Hitoshi beside him, which quickly calms the panic. Sitting up slowly, just in case he has injuries he doesn’t feel, Shouta takes in the room, and this is about the moment where he nearly has a heart attack. 

They’re in Recovery Girl’s office on UA grounds. 

It may have been literal decades since he’s seen it, but he basically spent his entire young adult and late teens life in and out of this office. He knows where everything is placed by heart, even all these years later. It’s missing some of the marks left behind from his own kids, but it’s still the same. 

There’s no scorch mark on the doorframe from when the war first started and Katsuki dragged a half lifeless kid from another department into the office, hands sparking on the doorframe in a rare moment of a loss of control. There’s no designated bed, literally having Izuku’s name engraved on it and reserved for him and him alone. There’s no cute little frog stickers on the computer monitor from Tsuyu, or a handmade Recovery Girl in her prime plushy as an apology from Izuku when he finally learned to control One For All on the desk. But it’s still the same as he remembers the office being. 

And on top of that, Shouta isn’t alone. 

Izuku is in the bed to Shouta’s right, Hitoshi in a chair between them, awake but not healed, going by the sling on his arm. Izuku sleeps soundly, still dressed and masked in his vigilante costume, like Shouta and Hitoshi are. And on the wall across from him, sits a face he hasn’t seen in years. Unscarred, unbloodied, and still quite young, Hizashi Aizawa-Yamada sits in a chair. He and Hitoshi are engaged in quiet conversation, but when he sits up, they silence and look at him. Hizashi doesn’t move, but Hitoshi does. 

“Soldier, you’re finally awake.” Hitoshi says, and his voice modulator is set on Naomasa’s voice right now. It’s calibrated to shift voices every other hour unless Hitoshi does it manually. Shouta moves a hand to his side, where he remembers being impaled by a piece of crystal meant for Izuku, but there aren't even bandages. Just some stitches that are in the beginning process of dissolving with his healing skin. 

He must have been hurt pretty bad if Chiyo had to sew him up. 

Hitoshi must catch his movement, because he says “You took a pretty big hit there. What do you remember?”

Shouta goes to speak, but he quickly stops himself to make sure his mask is disguising his voice. “I remember getting impaled, then hitting a wall. Also a lot of screaming and feeling like I was thrown into a washing machine?”

Hitoshi snorts. “That would have been while I was driving us to UA.” He says. Shouta nods absently. It would make sense, he was the one who taught Hitoshi how to drive, and Hizashi used to hate being in a car with Shouta behind the wheel. Speaking of Hizashi. 

“Present Mic.” Shouta says, barely catching himself from calling him Zashi or Sunshine. 

“Nice to meet you, Soldier!” Hizashi says brightly, and he looks so much more tired when he smiles. Looking closer, he realizes that Hizashi is wrapped in Shouta’s spare capture scarf. He hasn’t done that since Oboro’s first death. Guilt churns in Shouta’s stomach, knowing it’s his fault Hizashi is suffering so badly. 

“Pleasure is all mine.” Shouta says. Even with the deep eyebags, the weak smile, and the scarf wrapped so tightly around his shoulders and arms he might be cutting off circulation, he still looks as beautiful as the day they met at the first year Sport’s Festival. To keep himself from breaking down and lunging at Hizashi for a hug, he looks at Hitoshi instead. “Silence, status report.” 

The Status Report is something they’ve done since Yuga’s death. It requires a complete breakdown of injuries, quirk exhaustion rate, and will to keep going, as well as any helpful information that needs to be passed on. It’s the most efficient way Shouta could keep up with his kids’ mental and physical wellbeing, while also keeping up to date on any new movements of the enemy.

“Good sized hole through and through to your side, internal injuries to your organs. Mild concussion, scrapes, bruises, broken arm, twisted ankle, and a few small cuts. You’ve been healed. Secret had a broken leg, cuts, bruises, bruised ribs, a fracture in his hand and a mild concussion. He’s been healed. I have a dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, sprained ankle, cuts and bruises. I have not been healed just yet.” Hitoshi reports. Shouta slowly moves to sit against the headboard as Hitoshi continues. “Villains were apprehended, we stole a car, and we got you to UA as soon as possible. I have stayed awake to make sure no one umasks either of you, as well as to keep vigil. Secret is still asleep, but he should wake up any time now.”

“Very well. When he wakes up, you should get healed as well.” Shouta responds. 

“You three are very,” Hizashi says. “Efficient.” Hizashi’s eyes are narrowed and curious, and Shouta wonders what conclusions his husband is starting to draw from his limited knowledge. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Hitoshi says brightly.

“No, no, not bad. Just curious.” Hizashi says. “It’s almost like you three have been trained.”

Shouta looks at Hitoshi, and underneath his hood, Shouta sees one eyebrow raised. Shouta turns away. “The streets are training enough.” Hizashi hums, but doesn’t look convinced. The three of them fall quiet when Izuku stirs, and Hitoshi stands from his chair. Shouta would too, but his body still feels sore and tired from the excessive healing. Izuku shoots upright, and Hitoshi tenses, but when he doesn’t attack, Shouta and Hitoshi both relax. 

Izuku turns his head to look at Hitoshi slowly. “You son of a bitch.” He says slowly. Shouta can guess why. Hitoshi must have forced Izuku to sleep through Brainwashing, and Izuku hates it when he does that. 

“Yeah, Dad is a bit of bitch, but you don’t have to be so rude.” Hitoshi says calmly, and Shouta scoffs. Asshole child. 

“You’re adopted anyways.” Shouta says. He can practically feel the smirk on Hitoshi’s face. 

“Not legally I’m not.” Hitoshi bites back, and Shouta grumbles under his breath that he may never be adopted if he keeps up the attitude. The door to the nurse’s office opens, and in strides both Chiyo and Nezu, accompanied by Vlad King. Seeing Nezu makes something in his chest ache. 

He killed for the first time for Nezu, ripping the wings off that damn bird before slitting his throat. Shouta knows what the other survivors used to say. That when he killed Hawks, it was the true start of the endless war, and their doom. He doesn’t regret it, and while he might never reach that point with this Hawks, he won’t ever trust the bird to watch his back. Hawks took away his boss, his friend, his sensei, and that will never be forgiven. 

As long as Keigo keeps on the straight and narrow, he won’t have to do it again. 

“Well, it seems that everyone here is awake!” Nezu chirps, but his smile is still showing off the tips of his canines, so Shouta won’t let his guard down. He respects Nezu, would and has killed for the rat, but he is still Nezu. And a smiling Nezu is a dangerous Nezu. 

And Nezu is always smiling. 

“Now that everyone is awake and lucid, I would like to know a few things.” Nezu says, settling into the chair the Hizashi vacates. He can’t help but track Hizashi’s movements with his eyes. “First of all, Secret, Soldier, would you two like to tell me what happened to bring you three here so injured?” 

Hitoshi quickly reaches up to his mask, setting it to private comms. “All I told them is that we were ambushed and outnumbered.”

“Silence told you what happened already.” Izuku says calmly. “We have nothing more to say on the matter.”

“Would you have more to say if UA took you into custody?” Nezu asks, and Izuku shifts, straightening his posture in the corner of Shouta’s eyes. He follows suit, preparing to make a mad dash out of UA if needed. 

“You can certainly try.” Izuku says. 

“Izuku, I’m still injured, we’re on UA grounds, surrounded by pros, and at a disadvantage. Don’t do anything stupid.” Hitoshi warns through private comms. 

“You came to UA, despite there being hospitals closer to your location. Why is that?” Nezu responds instead of continuing the standoff. 

“Recovery Girl is a UA asset, and with the extensive injuries that Soldier retained, we needed her miracle kiss.” Izuku responds. “Are you going to attempt to keep us here or not?” 

Nezu hums but doesn’t respond, still smiling that dangerous smile. Shouta catalogs all the routes out of the infirmary and past the heroes, relaying the information to Izuku through private comms. “Windows don’t open, quirk proofed, only exit is the door. Between us and the door are Nezu, Present Mic, Vlad King and Recovery Girl. I can hear Ectoplasm and Midnight standing guard outside.”

“We are fully armed, and I’m ready to fight my way out if needed, just give us the signal.” Hitoshi tacks on.

“I don’t think it necessary to resort to violence.” Nezu eventually says. “I just wish to make a trade of information. That’s all.”

“What kind of information?” Izuku asks. 

“First, the search for Eraserhead on our end has reached a dead end, however Silence claims to have definitive knowledge that he remains alive.” Shouta sees Hizashi flinch and bites his tongue hard enough he tastes iron. “Do you have any proof to back these claims? Any information could be imperative to the investigation.”

Izuku hums for a moment, making the mask fritz a little. “Sequence has informed me that no viable claims of Eraser’s death have been made, but I know he is alive. I have seen it for myself.”

Shouta tenses and hisses into the comms. “Izuku what are you doing?”

“Is that so?” Nezu says, and he sounds excited. “Where did you see him? How was his condition? Who took him?”

“The last time I saw Eraserhead was in Saitama.” Izuku says. Shouta frowns. They haven’t been in Saitama in a while, what is Izuku playing at? “You know all of those labs that we have been raiding? He was in one of those. Unfortunately, somehow the villains caught wind of us, and they were gone before we could raid the lab and rescue him.”

“What are they doing to him?” Hizashi asks weakly. 

“What I know is that it’s some sort of quirk experimentation ring.” Izuku says. “I don’t know who the boss is yet, but I assure you, we are still looking for him. As for his condition and what they are doing to him, he looked fairly healthy, if not in top condition. Injured, but not fatally.”

“Why did you not share this information before?” Nezu asks.

“Problem Child, what the hell are you doing?”

“One second.” Izuku says, reaching up to his mask and setting it to private comms. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’ll explain at the base.”

“What are you doing?” Vlad King asks. Izuku turns off the private comms again. 

“I was conferring with Sequence, he was trying to get a hold of us.” Izuku says. “And I didn’t share this information, because the trail has gone cold again. No need to worry you all when there’s no new information to give.”

“I disagree, you have told us that he is alive, and still in Japan.”

“Agree to disagree then.” Izuku responds. “Now since this is an exchange of information, I have something I would like from you.”

“And that is?”

“Who is Midoriya Izuku and why are you looking for him?” Izuku says. Shouta feels like he’s been impaled all over again as the realization hits him. Izuku gave them false information in order to gain real information on Nezu’s involvement with Izuku’s missing case. He’s trying to stay a step ahead.

“Clever.” Hitoshi says. 

“Midoriya Izuku is a young quirkless boy that went missing four months before Eraserhead, and has been linked to Eraserhead’s disappearance.”

“Is that so?” Izuku says. “How are they connected?”

“A code, one that was emailed to Eraserhead minutes before he went missing, was written on the boy’s note. We have to understand what the code means. Another young man, Shinso Hitoshi, also knew the code.” Nezu responds, but he doesn’t look happy about sharing the information. 

“You left a note?” Hitoshi asks. “Dude, what part of ‘disappear without a trace’ do you not understand?” Shouta grunts in agreement. 

“What was the code then?” Izuku asks, completely ignoring them. 

“A series of numbers and letters. 1217131SC. Do you happen to know what it stands for?” Nezu says. 

“I’m afraid I do not, but I will have Sequence look into it.” Izuku says.

“What does it mean anyways?” Hitoshi asks.

“One moment.” Izuku says, then switches to private comms. “Twelve rebels including Kazu, one support engineer, seven heroes in training, one civilian, three veteran heroes, one second chance. 1217131SC.” Shouta huffs as his chest aches. That damn problem child always knows how to hit him right where it hurts doesn’t he? “Will that be all then?”

Nezu’s smile thins a little. “I suppose. Please keep me updated on anything you might find on any of the cases mentioned today.”

“Only if you do the same. Pleasure doing business with you Principal Nezu.”

“You’re free to leave then.” Nezu says, and the three of them get up and start to walk away. Then Chiyo stops them. 

“Not so fast, young man.” She says to Hitoshi, then without anything more, she plants a kiss on Hitoshi’s bare skin. Shouta barely manages to catch him before he hits the ground. “Now you can go. And be more careful next time!” 

“Thank you. We’ll do our best.” Izuku responds, while Shouta lifts Hitoshi onto his back like he’s a child. Which he is, but still. The two of them walk calmly out of UA, and Shouta barely gives the destroyed car a second glance. 

“I want to know exactly what happened there when we get to the base.” Shouta says.

“Of course, of course.” Izuku waves him off, putting his hands in his jacket pockets and walking casually down the road. 

Chapter Text

Hitoshi decides, once he wakes up, that they need a break. 

They’ve been running themselves raggad trying to complete the mission, and with All For One and Overhaul having them on their radar, it’s time to reevaluate their approach. So Hitoshi decides they should check in on the villains-to-be they saved. Dad agreed to it, saying he wanted to check in on Jin, and Izuku went along with the idea after some convincing. He’s going to get into contact with Touya and Hawks, and Hitoshi is making his way back towards UA in order to check on Himiko. 

He doesn’t offer any warning when he drops down onto Vlad King’s apartment balcony while the two are eating dinner, a suspicious smear of red on Himiko’s mouth. 

“What the fuck?” Vlad King says, angrily, as he rips open the balcony door and restrains Hitoshi with his blood. It’s not as gross as he would have thought it to be, but it’s still kind of gross. Himiko is peeking out from behind Vlad King’s massive frame, and he watches her face light up with joy. 

“Purple!” Himiko hollars, squeezing her way through the small gap between Vlad and the door frame. Much to Vlad’s dismay. 

“Himiko! Get back in here!”

“But Dad!” Himiko whines, dragging out her words as she latches onto Hitoshi’s immobile form. He’s not particularly concerned as of the moment, so he’s standing casually with his hands in his pockets, the hand warmers heating up his freezing fingers wonderfully. “He’s a friend!”

“I come in peace Vlad. I only wanted to check in on Himiko.” Hitoshi says blandly, and Himiko squeals in delight, holding onto his arm even tighter. He doesn’t even pretend to shake her off, content to let her hang off of him. Hitoshi wouldn’t admit it if you tortured him, but he kind of thinks of Himiko like he does Eri. Someone he needs to protect, someone he cares for. A sister even, in a way. 

An annoying, loud, overly cheerful sister, but a sister nonetheless. 

“Would you like to have dinner with us Purple-kun?” Himiko asks sweetly, and even if his stomach tightens in hunger, he declines. Vlad sighs, releases him, and moves back into the apartment, waving him to follow. Hitoshi does so happily, letting Himiko hold onto him the entire time, before closing the door behind him. 

“What do you want, Silence?” Vlad says in a defeated tone. He plops into his chair at the small table ungracefully. Apparently being deemed as no threat, he doesn’t seem to care about Hitoshi’s presence in his home. He sits down in the available chair while Himiko takes her own, scooting closer so she can still hold onto him. He wonders vaguely when she became so attached to him. They’ve only met maybe four times, and haven’t seen each other since Vlad took her in. 

“Is that any way to speak to a guest Vlad?” Hitoshi responds. He props his head up on his hand, tapping a finger on his mask in a new nervous tic, his fingernail clacking against the metal. 

“Just call me Kan.” Vlad says. Hitoshi hums idly in response, taking the man in. Before everything went to hell in the future-past, Dad and Vlad- Sekijiro Kan- were mortal enemies. They disagreed on almost everything. 

How to teach their students- Dad prefers a trial by fire method, while Kan is far more cautious. What skills are more important to know- Dad thinks it’s skills like how to knock people out, how to do a chokehold, how to creep silently even in heels, how to erase your presence. Kan thinks it’s PR Management, how to accurately assess a situation, teamwork. Both sets are important to know, they just disagree on what should be taught first. They even disagreed on animal preferences- Dad likes cats, Kan likes dogs. 

It wasn’t until the actual war began where they started to agree more on things, and that was because they had no choice in the matter. 

“I came to make sure Himiko is doing alright with the new changes in her life.” Hitoshi says, looking at the blonde who is watching them converse with wide eyes like she’s watching a tennis match. “How you holdin’ up Blondie?” 

She looks okay. Her hair is twisted into her iconic hair buns, and she’s wearing a soft sweater and a skirt, with knee high stockings, but no shoes. Her face looks less pale, with a natural color in her cheeks- Ochako had naturally red cheeks too. She smiles, and her fangs are more prominent when she does, and it makes her entire face light up. 

“I’m doing amazing! Kan-san said I could call him Dad! And he lets me have blood when I want it, and he buys me cute clothes all the time!” She continues talking, basically outlining every single day since they last met. Hitoshi oohs and ahhs, not particularly interested past making sure she’s happy, but willing to listen to her as she talks about everything that’s happened since Kan adopted her. As long as she’s happy, so is he. Toga of the future-past deserved more than the hand she had been dealt, and so does Himiko of the now. “-and I’m going to a new school, a really fancy one, and I have friends who don’t care about my quirk!”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Hitoshi says, and if his voice is a little softer, no one will know because of the voice modifier. Kan sits quietly as they talk, and when he glances over at him discreetly, he’s watching Himiko with a fond smile. 

Yeah, they chose the right person for Himiko. 

When Himiko starts yawning, showing off her fangs in an almost cat-like manner, Hitoshi urges her to bed. At first she refuses, I want to talk to Purple-kun more though!- but she eventually agrees when he promises to visit more often. She takes it well when he says that it may not be as often as she’d like, given his busy schedule, but he promises to take her out for ice cream one night and that’s that. 

Now, sitting alone in Kan’s kitchen-dining room, with Kan himself, Hitoshi asks the questions he actually wants the answers to. 

“So, how is she really?” Hitoshi asks. Kan raises an eyebrow, sipping at a cup of tea. There’s one for Hitoshi as well, but with his mask, he can’t exactly drink it. Kan looked vaguely embarrassed after he realized it himself, but didn’t bring it up.

“What do you mean?” Kan asks. He’s rather subdued when he doesn’t perceive Hitoshi as a threat. 

“Is she doing well in school, no one is bullying her? How’s her diet? You’re giving her blood regularly right?” Hitoshi asks. Kan regards him silently for a minute, just watching him. Hitoshi taps his nail against his mask. 

“You care a lot about her, don’t you?” Kan asks, but Hitoshi gets the feeling it’s rhetorical. He nods anyway. “She’s doing well in school, although her math grades are fairly lacking. I plan on getting her a tutor to help though. The school she’s in is one I picked specifically because of its policies on discrimination and bullying, I went there myself when I was her age.”

“That’s good.” Hitoshi says, feeling some tension in his shoulders loosen. 

“As for her diet, she eats healthy food six days a week, and on Mondays we eat junk food. Recovery Girl set up a blood bank for staff and students to supply her with blood, and she needs only a bag or two a week to stay healthy.” Kan continues. “I’ve met her friends myself, and they’re good kids. One of them wants to be a doctor, and the other wants to go into Underground heroics. Himiko says she wants to be a hero too, a twilight hero like me, so I’ve been preparing her a training plan that won’t be too much to handle for her.”

“That’s great!” Hitoshi says. “Maybe once she gets into the swing of training, I'll spar with her sometime.”

“I think she’d like that.” Kan says, and his smile is as toothy as Himiko’s, baring his fangs like she does. Maybe she picked it up from him. “I’m surprised you’re so concerned about her. Do you three visit all of the people you save?”

“No, not particularly.” Hitoshi says. “It’s just that some people hit harder than others, and we tend to get attached easily with like minded individuals. It’s a bad habit, but I can’t say I regret it. I want to see Himiko flourish.” Or they want to keep an eye on the villains-to-be to make sure they stay on the straight and narrow. Or a little bit of both.

“I get it.” Kan says, nodding. He stares into his empty cup, looking far away and sucked into a memory. “Anyways, it’s getting late, you should head out.”

Hitoshi nods as he looks at his phone for the time, and stands up with a stretch. “It was nice to meet you Kan.” He digs into his pocket for a piece of paper and a pen, writes down his burner number, and hands it to Kan. It’s something they all agreed on. They bought a new burner, just so they could hand out the number to the people taking care of the not-villains just in case of emergency. 

“This is a burner number, if anything happens, call us. You, Hound Dog, Tsukauchi, Recovery Girl, and Nezu all have one free favor with no questions asked. This is the number you’ll contact us on, but only in emergencies.” Hitoshi says. Kan takes the paper slowly. “I’ll see you around, and thank you for taking such good care of her.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Kan says. “Be safe out there.” 

“I don’t make promises that I can’t guarantee I’ll keep. But I’ll do my best.” Hitoshi responds. Kan nods at him, and Hitoshi moves back to the balcony, preemptively activating the heating features in his jacket pockets and shirt. 

As he takes off from the balcony and on to the next roof over, Kan yells out behind him. “And use the door next time!” Hitoshi only laughs as he makes his way back to base. Just as he’s passing the first street corner, his comms buzz to life. 

“Overhaul has requested a meeting, it’s set for tonight. Return to base. I’ll contact Shouta.” Izuku relays. Welp. So much for a break. 

“On my way.” He sighs and changes directions.

Chapter Text

Shouta is unimpressed with the security as he sneaks onto UA’s campus. 

He knows it isn’t until after the Training Camp Incident that Nezu, Hound Dog, Tsukauchi, All Might, Powerloader and Shouta himself overhauled and revamped the security systems and protocols around the school. But the idea that it’s so easy for someone-even someone like Shouta, who is familiar with the old system, and partly designed the new one, and who has knowledge no one else but two other people could know- to sneak on campus makes his stomach twist. It reminds him of the Fall of UA, where Nezu was killed, the dorms were destroyed, and Aoyama Yuga died. 

Fires are raging, his students are fighting villains, Nezu is MIA. Shouta can’t be everywhere at once. He has to choose, and he doesn’t want to. Go and support his kids as they fight for their lives, or check on Nezu? Protect his students, or go after Hawks, who was headed towards the main building? His kids, who are only second years, or his boss, his mentor, his sensei, his friend? He has to choose. He doesn’t want to choose. He can’t be everywhere at once. 

With a choked off pained whine, he heads to his kids’ last known location, the dorms. 

But that won’t come for three more years, or never if they do their job right.

Hound Dog, according to Izuku, has Jin living in the on campus teacher dorms, until he is cleared to go out into the world on his own again. If Shouta wants to visit and check on Jin, he needs to be on UA grounds first. Hence the break in. Although Shouta is one hundred and ten percent positive that Nezu knows he’s there, because Nezu knows everything, and also he’s had an inconspicuous drone tracking his movements since he crossed over the barrier wall. 

He heads to the teacher’s dorms, his feet tracking a trail he hasn’t followed for almost two decades, but which is still ingrained like muscle memory. 

Shouta doesn’t bother with the cloak and dagger, merely strolling in through the front door without knocking. Immediately there are several alarmed shouts from everyone sitting in the common area or in the kitchen. Nemuri is there- and he has to look away the moment he sees her wide eyes- and so is Ectoplasm, Snipe, Chiyo, and Hizashi. In the kitchen is Hound Dog and Jin, who sit at the dining table playing a game of cards. 

“Soldier!?” Hizashi yells, and it’s clearly a struggle not to activate his quirk in shock. It’s a struggle for Shouta too, who has a sixth sense for when Hizashi is about to blow out his eardrums, and he has to physically force his quirk down. Shouta plays it casually and gives a two fingered salute and a nod, just as Jin jumps from the table. 

“Soldier!” Jin exclaims, coming in close but not attaching to him in a hug like Shouta had half braced for. The scar on his forehead is remarkably pale, standing out less starkly than Shouta remembers. He looks rather okay. Cheeks no longer indented in malnutrition, eyes no longer quite as haunted, and his smile is brighter, less strained than their initial meeting. 

“Jin, just the person I came to see.” Shouta responds tonelessly, and he’s thankful for the voice modulator, as much as he hates to use it sometimes. It just makes his skin crawl hearing a voice that isn’t his own come from his mouth. Problem Child and Menace Child don’t seem to have the same issue with it that he has, but then again, his brats have always been on the stranger side. 

Jin lights up at the news. “Really?”

Shouta nods, and allows himself to be dragged to the table where Hound Dog- Inui Ryo- still sits calmly. “Soldier, this is Hound Dog! He’s my therapist!” Shouta snorts. 

“I know, I sent you to him, remember?”

Jin pauses, deflates a little, before perking back up. “I knew that!”

“Sure ya did, kid.” Shouta drawls lazily, making Jin pout. 

“I’m not a kid! I am a fully grown adult and can take care of myself!” 

“Hawks says the same thing and yet,” Shouta lets the sentence hang in the silence with a shrug of his shoulders. Watching Jin’s face- he is so emotive it’s kind of funny- he sees the man cycle through indignation, embarrassment, something pleased and then settling on exasperated. 

“What are you doing here Soldier?” Inui asks calmly, rearranging the cards in his hands. Shouta rolls his eyes, but only because he’s wearing goggles and can get away with it. In the future-past and past-past he never disrespected Inui, the man is Shouta’s own therapist. And boy will he have a time when this is all over and he can come home. 

“Silence demanded we all take a break, maybe check in on some of the people we saved, and I decided to check in on Jin.” Shouta tonelessly responds. He turns to Jin, following dutifully as the excitable young man drags him to sit at the kitchen table. “Speaking of, how is everything going?”

“It’s going great!” Jin says. “Inui-san is very nice, and he’s helping me and my alters learn to coexist with each other, and he’s helping me get set up for school for my own psychology degree!”

Shouta raises an eyebrow, briefly glancing at Inui in respect. He never took Twice for the kind of person who would become a therapist given half a chance, but he can’t say it’s too surprising now. Jin is just the kind of bleeding heart the industry desperately needs. 

“Maybe when the job is done, you can be my therapist.” Shouta says jokingly, but Jin seems to take him seriously, lighting up in joy. 

“You think so?” Jin asks, and Shouta doesn’t know how to respond. 

“Job?” Hizashi asks, and Shouta tenses as the beautiful, young, nostalgic image of his own late husband sits at the table. “What job?”

Shouta can’t help but stare. His hair is down, instead of being styled up in Hizashi’s signature ridiculous hardo, and the long blonde locks fall delicately over his shoulders. He’s leaning forward on the table, arms crossed, and head tilted barely a miniscule amount. Not enough to be noticed under usual circumstances, but enough to cause his hair to waterfall down his face and pool onto the table. 

He rips his eyes away to look at Jin instead as he answers. “Being a vigilante.”

“There’s a reason you chose to be a vigilante then?” Hizashi continues, and Shouta looks at him, and looks at the table, never moving his head. It’s become a new habit, one he uses to disguise where he looks. 

“Yes.” He answers tensely. 

“What reason would that be?” Jin asks curiously. Shouta purposefully turns his head to look out the window. After a moment of debate, he finally answers. 

“To right the wrongs that have been done, and to stop the wrongs that are yet to be.” He says, being as cryptic as possible. 

“Well that was very vague.” Hizashi says. Shouta purses his lips. 

“Wanted something more substantial then?” He asks dryly. “How about, our mission is to kill a small list of people, save a bigger list of people, and then throw the rest in prison.” Hizashi tenses at his blase attitude of death and murder, but Jin seems to roll with it. 

“Was I on the list of people to save then?” Jin asks, eyes betraying the calculations running in his mind. With the man’s excitable countenance, both as a villain and a civilian, it’s hard to remember sometimes that in the height of the War, Twice worked behind the scenes for a reason. The man is smart, clever too. There is little doubt in Shouta’s mind that it was Twice’s idea to kill Nezu to officially indoctrinate that fucking bird. Maybe it was proposed as if it were a joke, and then taken seriously, but it was Twice all the same, he’s seventy percent sure about it.

Then again, it could have just as easily been Dabi or Toga. 

Either way, he knows Twice was smarter than he let on, allowing his mental illness to make people underestimate him. Shouta watches the man as he replies, curious as to what his response would be and why. “If I said yes would it surprise you?”

Jin purses his lips in thought as he stares Shouta down, and then tilts his head to the side. “No, but I don’t know why I would be. I was just a stranger you had never met before, so what’s so different about me?”

Shouta turns his head back towards the window. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like lying. Maybe it’s because his Sunshine is sitting across from him at the table, an arm’s length away but too far to reach. Maybe it’s because he’s tired of the games he’s having to play in order to complete the mission. No matter the reason, he still replies. 

“When the day comes, and it will come, where we are arrested and taken in for questioning, it’ll make sense. But for now, just know that it was necessary to get you and a select few others off the streets and into a safer, stable environment.” Shouta thinks about his last good moments with Hizashi. 

The remaining staff of UA were running themselves into the ground looking for the Taken. The War had already been in full swing for a few months at that point, Nezu was already dead, that damn bird too. Shouta was trying to take his sensei’s place and lead where he never thought he would need to. Failing monumentally but trying all the same. His students were already involved, some of them Taken. The day before the raid to retrieve the Taken, Hizashi took him to their cozy little apartment. 

They took a bath together, where Hizashi treated his hair in all of those expensive products that make the black strands feel like silk. He cooked Shouta a hearty feast, full of both of their favorites, sprinkled with some of the kids favorites too. Katsudon for Midoriya, cold soba for Todoroki- one of the Taken- mochi for Ochako- Taken as well, but not Broken. Hitoshi and Eri were both in the dorms with the rest of Class 1A, a few of Class 1B as well. Hizashi made love to him, soft and slow, before they laid down for the first full night of sleep Shouta had gotten since the USJ, and the last he would have after. 

He lost Hizashi that next day, in a three on three showdown between League-or were they already Paranormal Liberation Front at that point?- Commission, and UA. 

“Maybe it won’t matter in the end,” He continues, lost to his own memories. “And maybe it will be all that matters, who’s to say? But when the truth comes out, I hope you, and everyone that we have affected, remember that it was necessary.”

The room is quiet, until he’s interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. Shaking off the dregs of sorrow and mourning, he checks his phone. Problem Child texted him, and only him, not the group chat. Swiping his password quickly, he opens the message.

Problem Child: Overhaul wants a meeting. Already relayed to Toshi via comms. Meeting is set for tonight. Return quickly, and be prepared for war.

Shouta stands up quickly, switching his comms on to contact Izuku. “What’s the situation?”

“No need to be alarmed, it’s on neutral ground. Probably the same kind of meeting that I had with Shigaraki.” Izuku relays calmly. Shouta’s eye twitches. He can’t believe the kid is so calm talking about Overhaul. The man that is hurting his daughter.

“On my way.” 

“You can take your time if you must, just be back soon.”

“No, I want to know who that asshole thinks he’s playing. ‘Cause it sure as fuck isn’t me.” Shouta replies. He makes his way to the door, checking his gauntlets like he does every time he has a chance. There were too many good men and women lost in the war because of faulty equipment, given most support companies were razed to the ground early on. “Inform Silence that I’m heading in his direction.”

“What’s going on?” Hizashi says, and Shouta stops suddenly, realizing he hadn’t silenced his mask. 

“Snake business, nothing to be concerned about.” Shouta replies, and suddenly, Hitoshi is on the line too, making a cooing noise over the comms. 

“Oooh, is that Present Mic ?” Hitoshi lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Is he stepping out on his missing husband? For shame!”

“Shut your fucking mouth you abomination of society.” Shouta grumbles and cuts the line, Izuku’s and Hitoshi’s snickering being cut off. 

“Uh,” Hizashi says, looking unsure of himself all of a sudden. He’s so grateful that the masks are designed to circumvent hearing based quirks when comms are active. 

“Don’t worry about it. Jin, it was good to see you again. Stay out of trouble, call me if you need to, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Shouta throws over his shoulder before pausing and turning back to Jin. “Actually, don’t do anything I would do either.”

“Duly noted.” Jin says, amused. Shouta reaches into his pocket and hands the burner number written on four sets of papers to Inui and Hizashi. 

“This is for emergencies only, if you need us, that’s the fastest way to reach us. Hound Dog, Present Mic, you two, Nezu, and Recovery Girl all get one free favor with no questions asked.” Shouta says quickly. “I have to go.” 

“Wait!” Hizashi yells. “I understand Hound Dog, Nezu and Recovery Girl but why do I have a free favor?” Shouta pauses and looks at his husband one more time. Takes in the long hair, the bright green, target like eyes, the stupid little mustache he refuses to shave off. 

“Call it a preemptive measure.” Shouta says, and leaves the building. He books it off UA grounds to head in Hitoshi’s direction to meet up. 

He doesn’t know what that scumbag could possibly want from them, but it’s a golden opportunity. Overhaul keeps Eri close, which means wherever he goes, Eri will be. They can probably plant a tracker on one of his men to find his location. He may be able to get Eri out of there sooner than planned. He might be able to see his precious little girl again, even if it’s not his precious little girl. The one who was all grown up, who was war hardened but still kind. Who never refused a call for help. Who used her power to keep the rebellion alive for longer than it should have been. She won’t ever be like the daughter he knows, but he’s okay with that. 

He just needs her back in his life again. 

Chapter Text

Izuku, begrudgingly, admits to himself that a break was needed. 

He’s walking through the door to Tsukauchi’s house- he picked the lock- and his first glimpse once turning into the living room from the foyer is a sight to behold. He almost wants to coo at the sheer cuteness. Touya and Keigo are both on the couch, game controllers in hand. Keigo’s wings are spread out across the couch, behind Touya who leans forward to give the wings some room to fit. They sit awfully close as well. Tsukauchi is in the arm chair to the far side of the room from where Izuku stands, a laptop settled in between his crossed legs. He has a pencil tucked behind his ear, a pen between his teeth, and an open case file on the arm of the chair. 

Izuku gets to watch for only a moment before there’s a bright red feather being launched at his face. 

He doesn’t even flinch, just stays leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. The feather stops a mere few inches from his face just as Touya and Tsukauchi exclaim in surprise and shock. Tsukauchi makes a half dive for the computer that falls from his lap as he makes to stand up, but another two feathers beat him to it. Touya, meanwhile, has his hands braced with ice, a lick of blue flame curling up his right cheek before flickering out. The poor controller is frozen in one hand. 

“Dammit Secret you scared the shit out of me!” Keigo yells, and the feather in his face finally backs away slowly before zooming back into his wings, which are puffed up from his shock. Touya blinks and looks down at his hands with a pout. 

“My controller.” He says forlornly, and it’s honestly adorable. Who knew the fearsome Dabi could be such a sweetheart? 

“How did you get in here?” Tsukauchi asks, sounding tired all of a sudden. Izuku smiles innocently even though he knows they can’t see it through the mask. 

“What a warm greeting, I feel so loved.” Izuku drawls lazily, earning an eye roll from Touya as he thaws out his hands and controller. Izuku pushes off the wall to stalk further into the living room, plopping onto the remaining armchair- it’s new, he knows, because it wasn’t here the last time Izuku came. Which was when Fuyumi had her quirk evolution, since Hitoshi is always the first to take advantage of free time to visit Touya. It’s not often, but it happens enough. The three settle back into their seats, Tsukauchi grumbling just loud enough for him to hear. 

“Why do I even bother anymore? What is this place, a halfway house for vigilantes and abused kids now? I’m getting too old for this shit, maybe I should retire.” Tsukauchi says, putting a pen between his teeth so his words come out slurred and muffled. He understands it just fine though, and Izuku has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “Become a detective they said, it’ll be great for you they said. They never said anything about my home being invaded by vigilantes all the time. Gonna start finding gray hairs at this point. Maybe I should change the locks-” He keeps mumbling to himself as he re-settles into his case, and his voice gets quieter until Izuku can’t hear without his mask’s assistance.

Poor Tsukauchi.

“Why are you here?” Keigo asks, drawing Izuku’s attention away from Tsukauchi’s amusing mutterings. Is that what he sounds like when he mumbles? “Is there new information on a case or something?”

“Oh nothing like that.” Izuku waves his hand lazily. “Just thought I’d come check up on you guys, see how things are going.” Not that he had much choice in the matter, but he isn’t complaining after Tsukauchi’s amusing little show. 

“Things are going great on my end!” Keigo says brightly. He’s smiling a crooked smile, not the fake charming one he uses when faced with the media and press. “I’ve already worked out a schedule with Nezu. I’ll be starting at UA next week as a Teacher’s Assistant to Present Mic so I can learn from him on how to teach the kids. After a month, Nezu and a few other teacher’s will review my work ethic and decide whether to keep me as an assistant, or to go ahead and throw me into teaching.”

“That’s wonderful Keigo.” Izuku says, smiling even though they can’t see it. The plan is going smoothly so far, at least on Nezu’s end. “And the Commission?” Keigo’s smile twists a bit, shaky and attempting to fall before he yanks it right back up again.

“They aren’t happy about it, and are trying to sabotage my chances. Nezu has been keeping them at bay for now, but the situation is tense. They’ve tried to send me on-” Keigo pauses, smile dropping and raising in the same breath. “ Special missions in order to delay the proceedings but well, no one gets in the way when Nezu wants something. It’s something I’m learning to just accept as fact. He’s kind of terrifying.”

“Yes, Nezu can be terrifying.” Tsukauchi says, not looking up from his computer. “But he’s on your side, which means you’ll reap the benefits. I wouldn’t tell him all of my secrets if I were you, but I would trust him to do his job and keep the Commission off your back.”

“Agreed. Nezu is trustworthy, but you have to keep in mind that he always has an angle, and while for the most part it’s good, I would keep your distance.” Izuku tells him, amused at the hypocricacy of his own words. Izuku didn’t keep Nezu at a distance in the future-past, he practically clung to the rat’s side, hung off his every word. Not many people who let their guard down like that around Nezu come out the other side victorious, in fact, Izuku can only think of three. Himself, Shouta, and not quite as surprisingly as one would think, Eri. Eri practically had Nezu wrapped around her finger. 

That girl was and will be a force to be reckoned with, no doubt there. 

Shouta is Eri’s dad, yes, and Hizashi her papa. Izuku, Hitoshi and Mirio were her big brothers. But Nezu? Nezu’s only claim for affection towards humans is his possessiveness towards humans he considers ‘his’. It’s not a controlling type of possessive, but if anyone lays a hand on his humans- Shouta primarily, but Izuku was a close second- then Nezu will burn the world to the ground with all of the spite and hatred for humanity he still holds onto. However, when it comes to Eri? Nezu of the future-past was not only possessive, but he genuinely adored her, shared a connection to her through similar experiences, and on occasion called her ‘kit’, as in claiming her as his own.

Nezu would eat Keigo alive. 

Keigo is too trusting for his own good, whether he realizes it or not. The moment anyone shows him any kind of genuine affection, he latches on and doesn’t let go. It’s why he turned traitor, why he went through with killing Nezu even as tears flowed from his haunted eyes, as seen on the footage Izuku had scrounged together in secret. It’s also probably the reason why Shouta managed to kill him so easily, why he could rip the wings from Hawks’ back, and came back barely scratched at all. Izuku thinks Hawks let Shouta kill him for his misdeeds, but he won’t say that to Shouta. 

“Any other complications?” Izuku asks, the room having gone a little too quiet. 

“None that I can see, at least.” Keigo responds easily. “I’m kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, because this seems too easy.”

“That’s because it probably is.” Izuku agrees. When Keigo gives him a questioning look, Izuku elaborates. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Commission is preparing to cut ties to you all together. Either that, or they’re gearing up for a major play for your loyalty.”

Keigo winces, seeming to have gotten the subliminal message Izuku was throwing out. “I see.” 

If the Commission ‘cuts ties’ as he put it, then they’ll likely be finding Keigo’s rotting corpse if they aren’t careful. Those ‘special missions’ don’t give him any hope to hold onto. However, if they’re making a play for Keigo’s ‘loyalty’? Keigo might end up being taken to be Reeducated- a.k.a tortured and brainwashed, and likely having his memory wiped or altered. 

“It would be wise for you to start making your intentions with UA more public. A comment here, a suggestion there. Make it clear to the Commission that you are becoming wise to their control over you, but keep it out of the public eye.” Izuku tilts his head as he repeats a phrase Nezu once said to him. “A player who knows his pieces and knows the board is far more dangerous than one who is playing a game of chess while blindfolded and told they’re playing checkers.” 

“Understood. I’ll get started first thing tomorrow.” Keigo replies, nodding his head sharply. 

“I would also suggest not going anywhere alone. Make sure you have someone with you at all times, and probably avoid your agency or apartment as well.” Izuku continues. “Stay with Mirko for the time being, cover it up by having your apartment redecorated or something. Anything that would be a good enough reason to not go home after work.”

“Thank you,” Keigo says. “I’ll take your advice into consideration.” Which basically means he’s going to follow Izuku’s word to the letter. These disguised conversations seem to be an ongoing theme of theirs. 

“Not that this isn’t important or interesting,” Touya drawls. “But there’s an update on the Endeavor case as well.”

“Yes,” Tsukauchi says, closing his laptop and setting it to the side. “Fuyumi has passed her tests for both becoming an officer and a detective with flying colors. I’ve taken her under my wing in order to coach her on taking an interview. If all goes well, the interviews with Todoroki Rei will begin in two weeks’ time.”

“Marvelous, send her my congratulations.” Izuku responds brightly. It’s all going so well. He can’t help but become a bit excited at the prospect. “And the younger ones?”

“Shouto is having a hero apprenticeship, which is getting him out of the house more often.” Touya says. Wow Touya, way to hit him where it hurts. “And Natsuo is doing well in his studies. He plans to be a surgeon and Hero Healer.” 

That tracks. In the original timeline Natsuo was studying to become a doctor too, and he seems well suited to the job. The Hero Healer thing is new though. A Hero Healer is a doctor, nurse, or otherwise medical practitioner who primarily handles Heroes as their patients, which isn’t to be confused with a Healer Hero. Healer Heroes are heroes first and foremost. They know how to fight and are able to assist in battle or rescue or intelligence operations, depending on their training and field qualifications. 

Although, some Hero Healer’s do end up going the extra mile like Recovery Girl and get a hero license on top of it, which makes them both classifications. Healer Heroes are also often given a higher security clearance, which can make their job much easier. It’s a thin line of a difference, but if you go into heroics and don’t know the difference, Healer Heroes and Hero Healers alike are known to hold grudges.

The same thing happens between Unders and Intels.

Underground heroes and Intelligence heroes have a rivalry going back generations. It’s one reason why Shouta doesn’t like Nighteye. Under and Intel don’t mix unless someone crosses the line into both categories, which actually isn’t a common thing. Heroes of all kinds usually stick to their primary classification and say go fuck the rest. 

Hero politics at its finest everybody.

Some people seem to think that every hero is licensed to do every hero-related job, but that’s not the case. There is no general hero license, it’s all separated out into specific categories. There’s a Rescue license, a Battle license- also known as a Limelight license, an Intelligence license, an Underground license, three types of Support licenses- Invention, Design, and Heroic- and a Healer Hero license. And that’s not even adding on the specialization licenses. Undercover, Mentorship, Mountain Rescue, and Urban Rescue to name only a few. 

Is it presumptuous and pretentious of him to say he wants every hero license in the book? Yes.

Does he plan on managing to do so anyways? Most definitely. And that’s not to mention the fact that he wants teaching, phycology, and quirk analysis degrees, as well as the emergency foster license. So basically, he’s going to be in schooling and training for his entire life, just so he can say he did it. Just so he can say fuck you to his old-future middle school. To every single adult, child and stranger on the street who said he would never amount to anything.

The world runs on spite and he is chock full of it.

“Any other things going on? How is your school work coming along Touya?” Touya brightens considerably. 

“It’s going well! I’ll be caught back up on my learning within a few months at this rate.” Touya says. “And I think I know what I want to do once I’m legally alive again.”

“Oh?” Izuku says. “And what would that be?”

“I’m going to go Underground. I’ve already started looking for an Underground hero to take me on as an apprentice so I can get my hero license.” Touya says. “After all, they say Underground heroes are just vigilantes with a paycheck, and why shouldn’t I use my quirk to help people like me?”

“I’m sure you’ll do great things then, I’ll send you a list of potential mentors you should look at, as well as a list to avoid. Don’t want to apprentice under the wrong kind of hero after all.” Izuku says. It’s also to keep Touya from being connected to any Unders who have affiliations with the Commission, or who go a little too close to the line of hero and villain. If it weren’t for the mission, he would have recommended Shouta, but for the time being that’s not possible. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Touya responds, just as there’s a notification from his phone. Izuku pulls it out to check, and immediately feels his mood sour. Giran, who held strong ties to the League in the future-past, may be a threat, but he’s a minor threat at best, sent him a message. Apparently there’s someone else who wants an audience with the Snakes. 

Giran: I have a request for a neutral meeting between you and yours and Overhaul of the Yakuza. Do you accept?

“Well, well, well.” Izuku says quietly, letting his tone turn a little more dangerous. “This is quite the development.”

“What’s going on?” Tsukauchi asks. Izuku glances away from his phone as he sends an affirmative to Giran. 

“The Snakes have been requested for a meeting, and it is simply one I cannot refuse.” Izuku responds. “Excuse me while I inform my team.”

He reaches up to connect to the comm link, but the only connection confirmed is Hitoshi. He sets his mask to silent mode the moment the connection is confirmed with a little beep. “Overhaul has requested a meeting, it’s set for tonight. Return to base. I’ll contact Shouta.” He says, keeping it short and simple. Hitoshi sighs over the link and responds. 

“On my way.” The connection cuts off and he tries again to connect with Shouta, but the comm link is deactivated, and he isn’t surprised. Shouta did go to UA after all. It’s likely he turned off comms in order to avoid Nezu hacking into them, though Izuku is positive he wouldn’t be able to so easily. 

So he sends a text instead, and the moment the message says it’s been read, the comm link connects. “What’s the situation?” Shouta says, voice tight and strained. 

“No need to be alarmed, it’s on neutral ground. Probably the same kind of meeting that I had with Shigaraki.” Izuku relays calmly, trying to avoid setting Shouta off on a rampage. That would be counterproductive given he’s in UA right now.

“On my way.” 

“You can take your time if you must, just be back soon.” Izuku says, if only to say it isn’t his fault when Shouta inevitably shows back up at their base in Gifu looking like he ran the entire way there. He might do it anyway, if he’s being honest.

“No, I want to know who that asshole thinks he’s playing. ‘Cause it sure as fuck isn’t me.” Shouta replies with barely restrained anger. He hasn’t heard such rage in Shouta’s voice since Nezu died. “Inform Silence that I’m heading in his direction.”

Instead of doing that, he just connects Hitoshi into the call. If anyone can calm Shouta down it’s going to be his son. Izuku hears the beep right before voices filter through Shouta’s side of the call. Apparently he forgot to silence his mask. What a dumbass.

“What’s going on?” A voice that sounds suspiciously like Hizashi says. 

“Snake business, nothing to be concerned about.” Shouta replies curtly with only the briefest of hesitations, and Hitoshi starts cooing over the line.

“Oooh, is that Present Mic ?” Hitoshi lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Is he stepping out on his missing husband? For shame!” Izuku bites his tongue to avoid letting out a laugh.

“Shut your fucking mouth you abomination of society.” Shouta says, and it may be well disguised but he can easily hear the embarrassment leaking into the man’s voice as he cuts the line. Hitoshi shares a snicker with him for a moment.

“Abomination of society huh? Guess I’ve been upgraded from Menace Child!”

“Only took you almost twenty years and a jump backwards through time.” Izuku responds lightly. “Try to intercept and make sure he doesn’t run the entire way back to base, we don’t know how this so-called meeting is going to go.”

“Two thousand yen says Overhaul is going to try to kill us the moment we get there.”

“You’re on, I have three thousand that he attempts to turn us into his lackeys first and then try to kill us.” Izuku says.

“It’s a bet. But why are we going all the way back to base?”

“I need some supplies and Shouta needs to cool off a bit beforehand.”

“Duly noted.”

They cut the line and Izuku stands from his seat, aware of the eyes watching him. To be fair, only Tsukauchi looks suspicious. Turning his mask back to normal, he gives a pleasant goodbye. “It’s been fun, but I have to go.”

“You said you had a meeting?” Tsukauchi asks. “With who?” 

“Are you going to need backup?” Keigo asks right after, looking like he’s ready for war. Izuku waves them off. 

“No need for backup, I’m sure we can handle ourselves.” He replies. “It was good to see you all, and we’ll check in on you all soon. Have a good night.”

Izuku leaves quickly and makes his way to the alley across from Tsukauchi’s house to get to the rooftops. He doesn’t go too far, just a few blocks down before dropping back to street level and flipping his jacket in one smooth motion. Now wearing a green hoodie, he slips out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, blending in with the small crowd as he makes his way to the train station. Toshi and Shouta will likely take a different train, unless Hitoshi fails to convince Shouta to take one, so he doesn’t bother waiting as he boards. 

He doesn’t know how to feel about this meeting. 

On one hand, it’s convenient, allowing them the opportunity to bug Overhaul and find Eri. On the other hand, it’s convenient. A little too much so in his opinion. First Shigaraki, now Overhaul? Shigaraki is still relatively stable at this point from what he could see, so Izuku can attribute that meeting as a longing to understand why Izuku is targeting his master’s operations so harshly, or maybe in a bid to quietly remove the growing thorn in his master’s side so he can say ‘look at me, I did something great, aren’t you proud?’. 

But Overhaul? He wasn’t forced into his evil, like Shigaraki, he chose it on his own terms. Went out of his way to commit his villainous acts despite the Oyabun- the family boss- not wanting the same thing. What would Overhaul possibly gain out of a meeting like this? One on neutral grounds outside of both of their territories, set up by a third party, who promises a completely peaceful meeting? 

Giran is a good informant, he would not lose his reputation as such because a meeting that is explicitly supposed to be non-aggressive between both parties goes south and breaks the agreements made beforehand. Perhaps Overhaul threatened him into setting up the meeting? It’s not unlikely, Overhaul is a very violent man by nature. He claims to be a scientist, but he just likes the torture involved. Izuku is positive he could make those same quirk erasing bullets without having to force Eri, or even hurt her. At most it would be a prick of a needle. 

Actually, now that he’s considering it, those bullets would be helpful in taking down All For One. 

It kind of makes him feel sick just thinking about using Eri like that, but he remembers the formula. All it would take is one or two vials of blood, and then he can get into contact with Momo and Mei. Mei to make the gun and bullets, Momo to make the formula. 

It’s not exactly a secret anymore among the last eleven-now three- but Momo was not exactly the most law-abiding citizen before UA. Her parents were strict. As in, not letting her leave the house for most of her life, kind of strict. On top of that, she was intelligent. 

Intelligent kids with no outlets tend to seek out trouble, one way or another.

Izuku’s was, according to his notebooks since he doesn’t remember doing it, telling the cops about villain plans from a villain-used site, and hacking into police radios and the Hero Network to listen to everything going on in the work of heroes. Momo found her outlet in black market trading to vigilantes and Unders using her quirk. Things like support items, so long as the person already has the design and molecular models. Comm links, masks, simple weapons like bo-staffs and such, you name it. She’s even sold to Shouta a time or two when his connections were taking too long to provide what he asked for. It’s why she was so basic with her creations back in high school, she didn’t want to tip Shouta off to her identity. 

Mei’s outlet was basically the same thing, but her support items were more high tech and specially designed, and she had less morals around who she sold to. Intelligent kids who get bored easily are not exactly going to lead to legal things. If he can get Eri’s blood, create the formula for the bullets, and send them off to Mei and Mo, he can have a weapon perfect for dealing with All For One. 

He just needs to convince Shouta and Hitoshi. 

He steps off the train and checks his phone, seeing Hitoshi’s text telling him that Shouta decided to compromise and run halfway, and take a train or bus the rest. Which means he has time to himself. Not wasting any of it, he heads straight for the base to get into contact with Mei and Mo, but only to establish contact. He won’t go forward with the plan until his partners agree. 

And they will agree, he just needs to use the right words.

Chapter Text

The pre planned meeting place with Overhaul is a nondescript, certainly illegal, slowly getting more rundown by the day bar that caters to the undesirables. It’s the type of bar Shouta had used many times when he was a hero, before the War and before The End, the apocalypse. It’s discreet enough that Shouta could meet with his more illegal contacts without worry of being observed by anyone who would use those same contacts against him. 

The bar has no name, and only the backdoor that leads to the alley can be accessed, the front door long boarded up on the outside and bricked over on the inside. To get in you have to know the passphrase, and they have to wait on the rooftop of a building three doors down, mask auditory sensors kicked up to max to learn the phrase. 

Luckily for them, it is not a long wait. 

He’s a little tired from having run half a prefecture towards the base, but it was necessary, even in his own eyes. If he were to walk into this meeting without blowing off some steam, he would have killed Overhaul the moment he laid eyes on him. And in bars like this, murder is not condoned. Take it elsewhere or risk immediate retaliation. Shouta doesn’t want to kill Overhaul - yet - because they still haven’t found Eri’s location. This meeting will be their foot in the door if they play their cards right, and there are two different paths this can be successful. 

Path one, the path he hates the most, is making a deal. Somehow, in some way, they need to make a deal with Overhaul, become partners with the vile man for something or other. He doesn’t know what that deal could possibly be for though. It’s an unlikely path to follow, unless Overhaul piques Izuku’s interest. However, it would have to be something unimaginably valuable that they can’t get or do themselves. But the path that they’ll likely take? 

Bug Overhaul and track him to Eri’s location. 

Shouta knew from the moment he received Izuku’s text that the three of them were likely thinking along those same lines. Overhaul is meeting with them personally, a guarantee from Giran, who set it all up. The meeting is in the bar, where meetings like this usually happen, and it is neutral. People from all walks of life go to this and other bars like it. Unders, Intels, Spotties, Vigilantes, Villains, Detectives. You name the occupation, they always seem to end up at one of the nondescript, decrepit more often than not, very illegal bars at one point in their lives. The only exceptions Shouta can think of would be Rescue Heroes, All Might, and most civilians. 

And even then, some Rescue-types break the mold and still end up in one of these bars.  

Usually, as Eraserhead, when he walks into one of these bars, no one takes notice. He usually masks his presence, slips inside, and settles into the best vantage point in the bar for whatever meeting he’s setting up. More often than not it’s on the far wall, so he can see everyone and have his back covered, but sometimes he ends up in the center along the wall if there are no windows. Close to the door for a quick escape if need be, off the back wall so he can’t be cornered, back to the side wall so no one can sneak up on him. You never know in these types of places.

As Eraserhead, he is simply another Under. As Soldier though? 

Shouta, Izuku and Hitoshi walk into the bar in formation, Izuku at the back, Shouta and Hitoshi leading the way. The moment the three of them set foot in the door, the bar silences. And he doesn’t mean silence as in conversation lulls and quiets but never ceases completely, the bartender of the night tracking them only with their eyes as they continue their business. No, he means everything stills. Conversation ceases completely, movement stills, no one looks directly at them but no one looks away either, keeping them in sight. 

The bartender- a stocky young woman with sheared white hair, black eyes, and a scar splitting her face in a place that only barely missed blinding her- freezes mid-mix of a drink. No one moves or does anything for a moment as Shouta and Hitoshi pause to take in the room. Izuku is likely doing the same behind him but he doesn’t dare look. As of this moment, every single person in this bar has registered them as a threat, as the top dog, the alphas, whatever word they choose to use. If Shouta or Hitoshi dare to look back at Izuku or at each other, same with Izuku, it’ll show them as the weak links. 

Funny how much postering is used in bars like this. 

When Shouta spots Overhaul- same short, flat russet brown hair, same beady little eyes watching like a hawk, same obnoxious, bedazzled plague mask and stupid coat that doesn’t even reach his wrists with the terrible purple boa-like trim- is sitting in Shouta’s preffered place. Back against the far wall, next to a window but not in front of. Already he’s irritated beyond belief by the man’s mere audacity. 

He may not be Eraserhead right now but god does this still feel like an insult. 

Overhaul has two lackeys with him, the one with the clock-arm hair- Chronostasis, and a muscle man with wild blonde hair- Rappa Kendo, if he remembers correctly, a member of the future Eight Bullets. In sync, the three start moving towards Overhaul, and as they pass, the other patrons quietly move back into their conversations, albeit muted and wary now. Izuku steps up to be in line with him and Hitoshi as they pass the main grouping of full tables and have the room to do so. They take their seats, Shouta in the center, Izuku and Hitoshi flanking. Hitoshi ends up on the wall, so he turns to sit sideways to watch their backs. 

Before Shouta’s ass even meets the chair, Overhaul is speaking.

With the din of noise returning, their conversation is disguised, so long as nothing becomes heated. And it’s a high probability that things will become heated before long. “So, this is the infamous Snakes I’ve been hearing about.” Overhaul says, words sharp as he eyes them three with thinly veiled disgust. “I must say, I was expecting something a bit more grand.” 

“You wanted to meet with the Snakes, well, here we are, at your service.” Hitoshi says, voice modulator mimicking some criminal whose voice was a low baritone, thick and deep. Even with the modulator Shouta can hear the mocking tone of his words. The bartender comes by and sets a bottle of Irish whiskey on the table, along with six glasses. She walks away as silently as she came, and no one moves to pour a glass. They’re all wearing masks, even Overhaul’s men, so the liquor is a bit much. 

And Shouta never drinks during a clandestine meeting like this anyways.

“Of course.” Overhaul says, and if it weren’t for that disgust hiding in his tone, Shouta would have even said the tone was pleasant. “When I first heard of your little group, I paid no mind to it. A few vigilantes, nothing new. But then you started targeting my compounds, burning them down and arresting my men. So now you have my attention.”

“Oh goodie.” Shouta deadpans, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed. He deliberately begins thumbing one of the daggers hooked to his shoulder, drawing Overhaul’s attention. “Just what we wanted.” Overhaul’s eyebrow twitches.

“Which one of you am I speaking to?” Overhaul bites out. “Which of you is the leader?”

Shouta almost wants to laugh. Izuku briefed them at the base, explaining that Overhaul will likely only want to speak to the leader- which is Izuku, as much as he denies it- and completely ignore the other two. It’s why they sat like this, to try and derail Overhaul from figuring out the leader so easily. Hitoshi and Shouta will handle the talking initially, while Izuku sits back and observes until it’s time to strike. 

“Well I’m the strongest.” Shouta says, and it is true. The boys’ little kid frames don’t allow for much strength right now. Besides, they specifically trained for speed over strength, since speed is more important as a vigilante. 

“And I’m the fastest.” Hitoshi chirps, and like Shouta, is playing with one of his daggers, swinging it around his finger carelessly. 

“Right.” Overhaul drawls. “And what is he, the shortest?”

Shouta and Hitoshi both look at Izuku for a moment before they look away. From the line of Izuku’s posture, he’s pouting. Poor kid didn’t hit a growth spurt until what should have been third year where he shot up like a goddamn tree. Likely would have been even taller if he was properly fed, but by then the War was in full swing and eating healthy amounts of food is difficult when you can’t stay in one place for too long, or even carry much on you. 

“Are you making fun of my partner?” Hitoshi says, tone dangerous as he catches the dagger by the blade. 

“If I were to place my bets, I would say he’s the leader, since he has yet to say anything.” Overhaul says after a moment of silence among the table, tension rising from Hitoshi’s quiet threat, and eyeing Izuku up and down. Damn, he owes Hitoshi five thousand yen. They bet on how long it would take Overhaul to pinpoint Izuku as the leader, and Shouta bet over three minutes. Hitoshi took the under. 

They have to find entertainment somewhere right?

Izuku takes this as his cue and leans forward, bracing himself on the table. He reaches forward to pour a glass of whiskey, and Shouta has to fight the instinct to scold him when he takes his mask off just enough to knock it back. He’s a literal child right now, what the hell is he doing drinking alcohol?

Izuku sets the glass down gently, eyes locked on Overhaul, and Shouta turns his attention to the lackeys, specifically Chronostasis. It was a bitch and a half fighting him way back when, he won’t let the man touch him if this meeting comes to blows. Rappa seems a bit thick, so Hitoshi can handle him easily when quirks are involved, just as they planned beforehand. Shouta takes on the most troublesome, Hitoshi the strongest, and Izuku can easily handle Overhaul, quirk or no. 

Theoretically anyways. 

Izuku pulls out a travel sized notebook from his jacket, flipping it open as if to read it but Shouta knows better than that. Izuku doesn’t need to read his notes on Overhaul, it’s just an act, a performance. Something to keep Overhaul’s attention on the smaller details. 

“Chizaki Kai, alias: Overhaul, quirk: Overhaul. The ability to disassemble and reassemble matter with a touch of the hand, no five point contact needed. Aversion to touch, and an extreme germaphobe. Usurper of the Shie Hassakai.” Izuku says. He flips a few pages idly.

“I am the leader-” Overhaul starts to say, incensed by the insult. 

“Of which you managed by Usurping the previous Oyabun.” Izuku cuts him off, snapping the little notebook closed and slipping it back into his jacket pocket. “Your little organization is still fresh to the Underground. No funding, no police contacts, no ‘friends’ to fall back on. What is it you want from us Chizaski?” 

Overhaul takes a slow breath through his nose. He spreads his hands wide before linking his fingers loosely. “I simply want to make a deal. Perhaps the two of us can come to some sort of agreement, hmm? I think we can do great things as partners, rather than enemies, don’t you agree?”

“And why would we make a deal with you?” Shouta asks, but Overhaul barely spares him a glance. Sometimes it’s annoying when Izuku is right. 

“What would you possibly have to offer us that would make us want to be partners with you?” Izuku says. “Or did you come into this meeting deciding to wing it?”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Overhaul says almost lazily, waving a hand through the air briefly. He leans forward, all intensity. “You may think I am nothing more than a common criminal, but you’ll see, I’m bringing about a whole new era. It would be wise to join me, to be a part of something extraordinary.”

“And what, exactly, are you doing to bring on this ‘new era’ of yours?” Hitoshi asks. Shouta can feel it in the tension of his posture, he’s getting increasingly annoyed at Overhaul’s vague words. Implying destroying his daughter over and over again is something ‘good’, something that is normal and natural, and needs to be done. Shouta is no stranger to drastic measures in desperate days. Izuku may have been something of a General during the war, but Shouta was one of his ‘captains’. 

Izuku wasn’t the only one who had to give impossible orders to his men. 

Old 1-A were exactly the same. They were Izuku’s captains, each one leading their own mobile rebel force at some point in the war. Shouta himself ran his own unit of men and women, leading the handful of other Unders Shouta trusted throughout his years as a hero. He’s no stranger to drastic measures, having to sacrifice the few to save the many, watching friends, family, strangers and children walk off to die at his command with the grim knowledge of their own fates. He’s no stranger to drastic measures, but he would not torture a child to eradicate an issue that really isn’t one to begin with. Quirks are not the issue. It is the black and white, villain and hero, good and bad worldview that the society has fallen into due to the media, the Commission, and he may love the man like a brother, but All Might too. 

Eradicating quirks entirely is just another bandaid on an open wound that will never truly heal. 

Overhaul leans back, looking entirely too pleased with himself, but then again, Shouta could be a bit biased. “I have in my possession a tool that, once perfected, can change the world as we know it. I need only a little time for my work to progress into the final stages, and then we will make this world something beautiful.” 

“Ah yes, little Eri right?” Izuku says lightly. “I would hardly call a person a tool, especially in front of these two. They can be quite protective when it comes to children.” Izuku gestures to Shouta and Hitoshi before crossing his arms lightly, leaving his hands free. Overhaul freezes, and despite only seeing half the man’s face, his eyes are very expressive. They burn with rage. 

Then he relaxes.

“I see then.” Overhaul says calmly. “I take it that you have done some research before this meeting, if you know about Eri.”

“Sequence did, yes.” Izuku responds, and Shouta refrains from rolling his eyes. Izuku loves having two seperate secret identities, it makes him feel like some kind of super spy. He brings it up in some way to every person they come into contact with. Including Nezu. Especially Nezu. Nothing better than the Rat Child holding a secret right over the Rat God’s head.

“Then I take it you are interested in my work.” Overhaul says, and his expressive eyes practically scream out his demented glee. 

“You are not mistaken in our interest, no.” Izuku says. It’s almost carefully worded, implying they want in instead of telling of their intentions to save. It seems Rappa has lost his patience though, because the man growls like a dog- and it’s a very good rendition too- before he slams his fists on the table. The bottle of whiskey tries to topple, but Izuku catches it easily and sets it gently back down without any fanfare. 

“This is taking too long! I thought you said I could fight them!?” Rappa hollers. He grabs the bar’s attention by doing so, and Shouta feels the hairs on his neck raise as his quirk tries to activate without permission. Overhaul raises a hand and Rappa quiets, grumbling as he sinks back into his seat. Hitoshi taps his calf twice with his boot, the signal they agreed upon to indicate too much attention. Shouta does the same to Izuku, who taps back once in reply, meaning hold positions. Shouta relays to Hitoshi the same message.

“Now, now, Rappa, I wish to speak a little longer. Behave .” Overhaul says with a dark lilt on the command, but Rappa obeys and doesn’t get aggressive again. Yet, at least. This entire meeting is giving him gray hairs from the stress, he can feel it. 

“You should probably put a leash on your dog, this is still a business after all,” Hitoshi says casually, and Shouta barely refrains from smacking him in the head. He settles for kicking him harshly in the leg. Hitoshi hides a flinch by slumping down in his seat and trying to retaliate, but Shouta pulls his leg out of reach. Overhaul tenses across the table, glaring them down as his hands twitch on the table. 

Almost like he wants to pull off a glove. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Izuku says, gesturing towards Overhaul’s hands, seeming to have picked up on the same thing Shouta did. “Unless you want to go toe to toe with me, and I can’t promise you’ll come out on top.”

Overhaul’s hands twitch again, but he slowly pulls them back towards himself and lays them flat on the surface of the table. He avoids eye contact for a moment as he clears his throat. “Perhaps we should get back on topic. You were asking about Eri?”

“Yes. Eri.” Shouta says dryly. “She’s, what, four years old? What exactly are you aiming for by experimenting on her?” Of course, he knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from the bastard himself. 

“Experimenting is a bit of a strong word.” Overhaul says lightly. “She is the key to a more accepting future, that’s all.”

“Accepting how?” Hitoshi asks, sounding both bored and annoyed. To Shouta at least. 

“Her quirk would allow me to reverse the curse of quirks on the world.” Overhaul says, intense and with eyes blazing. “Just imagine it. No more so-called ‘villainous quirks.’ No more hierarchy based around a biological mutation they can’t control over who gets what kind of quirk. No more heroes or villains, just people.”

“So you wish to get rid of quirks altogether?” Izuku asks. His hand tightens slightly around the little notebook in his hand. “Even your own?”

Overhaul seems taken aback at the question, hands twitching again where they lay on the table face down. “Well of course-”

“And have you considered what would happen after you manage to erase quirks?” Izuku asks, head tilting to the side in an obvious display of mocking curiosity. “Because I’m imagining it now, and I don’t want to live in that world.

Overhaul scoffs. “So you would rather live in a world where people are vilified over what quirk they have?”

“Well it’s not exactly something new. Awful, yes, but not new. Do you even know what people went to war over before quirks? Skin tone, sexual or gender preference, religion, politics. Entire populations were wiped out over these differences in opinions, of appearances, of preferences. Discrimination is nothing new.” Shouta says. And those same discriminations still live today. Shouta was disowned when he came out as gay. Not because he had a villainous quirk, but because he likes men.

How illogical.

“And now just imagine that same set of issues, but on top of people who previously had quirks. Not to mention the totalitarian government that would need to be in place in order to keep erasing quirks with every new generation.” Hitoshi adds. 

“Discrimination is as old as time Overhaul.” Izuku says. “If you wish to eradicate quirks entirely just because of that, then there will be discrimination once more, but in new ways. It is human nature, as much as people don’t want to admit it. It’s human nature to hate what is different.”

“It seems we are at a disagreement then.” Overhaul says dangerously, and Shouta carefully and slowly shifts his crossed arms so that his hands are unencumbered. 

“It seems we may be.” Hitoshi says, still flipping the dagger around his finger lazily. “But let’s not stray from the topic. The girl, Eri. We just want to know a few things, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Given your lack of interest in the world I want to build,” Overhaul says. “Your continued interest in my property is concerning.” Shouta’s blood runs cold. Did he just call her his property? His little girl? His precious daughter?

“What did you just say?” Hitoshi says, and when Shouta finally pulls his eyes off of Overhaul, he’s no longer twirling his dagger, no longer leaning casually. Shouta hasn’t heard such unrestrained fury in years. Not since- well damn, not since after Denki and Hizashi both were lost. Not even when Eri in the future-past was presumed dead did Hitoshi sound so mad. He only ever sounded tired, sad, heartbroken and barely hanging on, covering it up with sarcasm and dry wit. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question. You have no interest in my work, so why should I speak of my property any longer to the likes of you?” Overhaul says, and in the few moments where Shouta took his eyes off of him, he slipped his gloves off. Shouta is prepared for a fight the moment the first punch is thrown, but it isn’t Overhaul who throws it. Not even Rappa moves first to instigate the fight. 

Hitoshi is suddenly jumping onto the table with fury lacing his very being, but he’s sent back by a blunted piece of wood, made from Overhaul deconstructing the table. Glass shatters as the bottle of alcohol and the glasses are knocked to the floor, and Shouta quickly moves to restrain Rappa. Rappa struggles in the bindings with an enthused roar, and behind him, Shouta can hear the alarmed shouts of the other patrons at the same time as there is a crash. 

Rappa decides to forgo trying to get out of the gauntlet strips he’s wrapped up in, charging forward and nailing Shouta in the chest with a shoulder. It sends him skidding back, crashing into a table at the same time that Izuku zips forward, dodging the reaching arms of Chronostasis' hair. Izuku has Chronostasis down in seconds, choking from the punch to the throat. Shouta dodges to the side as Rappa tries to body slam him, rolling across the broken glass and thankful that he’s not wearing his old hero costume. 

He would have been sliced up by the glass if he were. 

He makes it to his feet before there’s the distinct chk-chk of a shotgun loading, and multiple small clicks of a loaded handgun. He freezes in place, and so does everyone else, including Overhaul and Hitoshi, who look one step away from a full clash. 

“Tha’s enough!” The bartender woman yells, brandishing her shotgun at them. “I’ll have no fightin’ in my bar, either take it outside, or taste my lead!”

“You should know the rules gentlemen.” Another person says, and Shouta shifts his eyes to see a man with blue scales smattered across his face sitting at the only untouched table on the floor. He’s sipping at his drink while almost lazily holding an automatic rifle in his lap. Shouta can see his trigger finger flexing and relaxing though. “I don’t like blood all over my floors. Get out, one group at a time. I won’t have the cops crawling all over this place because you lot decided to brawl in my alley.”

Shouta doesn’t move, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Rappa, who looks upset that the fight was cut short. And then, “No need to worry.” Izuku says, picking his way silently across the glass, broken wood, and mangled parts of the floor from Overhaul’s quirk. From the looks of it, Overhaul’s quirk is a lot weaker than he remembers. There’s no preciseness to it like in his memories.

Maybe, just maybe, the fight for Eri won’t be as hard to manage as the first time around. 

If only they could be so lucky. 

“I apologize for my partner’s lack of manners.” Izuku continues as he makes his way to Shouta, tapping him four distinct times on his shoulder, the message meaning tracker planted. His shoulders relax a little. “We’ll be leaving now.”

Shouta follows after Izuku, never turning his back on Rappa as he releases him, but Rappa doesn’t rampage. Only scowls and scoffs before grabbing a bottle of liquor that somehow survived from the floor, ripping his mask off and taking a long drink. “Silence, let’s go. Our presence is no longer needed here.”

Shouta glances over his shoulder to see Overhaul and Hitoshi still squaring off, until Hitoshi finally sheaths his dagger and walks out the door, never looking back. Izuku follows, and Shouta pauses only to hand the man with the rifle, who clearly owns the bar, a small wad of yen. “For the damages.”

He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi barely makes it in the entrance of the base before he’s angrily throwing a knife at the closest solid object, which happened to be the bookshelf they use for cabinet space in the kitchen. 

He’s just so angry. It’s been a long, long time since he was angry at Overhaul for what he did to his little sister. With the war happening, and Eri having to basically lock her trauma up in order to learn how to use her quirk efficiently to help with the war effort, and Hitoshi being a part of one of the many mobile rebellion teams, he barely saw her. So it was almost too easy to forget that she basically lived through her own personal hell before that hell turned into a war she didn’t deserve to be in. 

That none of them deserved to be in. 

But the way Overhaul talked about her, calling her his property, pretending that torturing her was a good thing . That sadistic look of pleasure as he spoke about his work. It sets Hitoshi’s blood boiling, makes him want to snag Overhaul with his quirk and force him to relive everything he did to Eri but through her eyes. Force him to endure day after day after day of endless agony, of isolation and fear. 

“Toshi-” Dad starts to say, but Hitoshi doesn’t give him the chance, just marches straight towards the second floor of the underground garage. Izuku has it turned into his personal lab, and he isn’t supposed to go down there in case he messed something up or whatever, but he needs alone time. The second floor has a space cleared out in the very back that they call the panic room, despite it being an open area with only room dividers for privacy. He can’t look at his father in the eyes right now, not after fucking the mission up with his useless emotions. 

Inside the cordoned off space is a simple bean bag chair and a futon on top of tatami mats nailed to the floor. 

There’s a single, battery operated lamp, which is barely big enough to be considered a lamp at all, along with a few comfort items. A soft blanket big enough to fit three people or wrap around yourself like a human burrito. A cat plushy, because who doesn’t love cats. There’s a little battery operated radio too, but he leaves it off as he curls up and just tries to get rid of the sticky gross feelings in his chest. 

There are things he’s learned over the years of the war about himself and his quirk. 

None of the things he learned were good, or learned through good ways. Like his subliminal messages, or his forceful activation of another’s quirk, or manipulation of memory. He had learned the last one through Eri. The war had only just got started, Dad had already killed Hawks, Zuku was already leading the war effort, but things were still relatively calm. Izuku had been training Eri alongside Dad and Chiyo to use her quirk as casualties were starting to build up and Chiyo could only be in so many places at once. 

Then there was an attack, a bad one, close enough that Chiyo was called in to assist in healing the wounded. 

Eri had gone with her, because everyone else, including Hitoshi, were elsewhere at the moment. Hitoshi himself had been in the very attack they were called to. He probably would have died that day. Eri was still too young, still too freshly free of Overhaul’s control, but Chiyo could only do so much and Eri wanted to help, needing to save him as he lay dying in her arms. 

She begged him to do it. Begged him to take control and force her to use her quirk, but he couldn’t risk it. He refused. And in a moment clear of panic, Eri told him to make ‘the bad memories go away’. And it worked, he forced her mind to lock away all of the trauma and the fear so that she may use her quirk without any mental blocks. 

He learned that day that he is a very selfish man. 

Seeing Eri free from her internal torment as she saved countless lives alongside Chiyo, he couldn’t bring himself to undo the block on her memories of Overhaul. Couldn’t bear to see his precious little sister, his little hero, tormented day and night of the things she went through. He didn’t completely lock the memories away, though he could have if he had more experience at the time, so he just locked away any emotion she had towards them. 

Is he going to have to do it again?

Izuku wants to use her blood to recreate the quirk erasing bullets Overhaul is working towards, using those bullets on All For One when the day arrives. He wants to use Mei and Momo’s illegal businesses from before UA to create a surplus of the bullets and a gun for each of them. And by god does he hate the logic he sees behind the idea. 

There’s a reason Eri wasn’t allowed to join Hitoshi and the other ten of the last rebels. 

Shigaraki/All For One wanted to kill her, get rid of the threat to his existence that she posed. Izuku theorized that if Eri were to use her quirk on Shigaraki after All For One hijacked his body, then without a body to return to, All For One would be dead and they would only have to contend with normal Shigaraki. It was supposed to be their last resort plan. It’s why they went to the last rebel stronghold, where Eri was supposed to be stationed, protected by experienced and powerful heroes. 

It’s why they lost hope when all they found was rubble and dust. 

But Hitoshi can see the reasoning behind the idea. The three of them are nothing compared to the might of All For One, and they were basically planning a suicide mission to take him down. Not that any of them acknowledged it, though they all know it to be true. With the quirk erasing bullets, they can weaken All For One exponentially, enough to finally land the killing blow without killing themselves (hopefully) or involving too many other heroes. It’s a good idea. 

And he hates it. 

He hates even considering it. The idea of using Eri for the same exact reason Overhaul is makes him sick to the stomach. He doesn’t want to stoop to Overhaul’s level and use a child for their own gain. Use his sister for their own plans. But do they really have a choice? 

Hitoshi doesn’t want to die. He wants to live, and rekindle his relationships with his old classmates. He wants to kiss Denki again, and argue with Katsuki. He wants to spend quiet nights with Fumi and Shouto when they need to recharge from social interaction with all of the extroverts in class. He wants what he never really even got to have in the first place. 

He wants to be a fucking hero, not a rebel, not a vigilante. 

Not a killer.

But to do that, will they have to sacrifice their own morals all over again? Will he have to look Eri in the eyes and use her like Overhaul did? Will he have to put her under his quirk so Izuku can extract her blood without a fight?

“Toshi?” Izuku’s voice says, quietly and softly from beyond the dividers. He curls up even tighter into the blanket, squeezes his eyes shut to hold back his tears. The scrape of one of the dividers moving sounds through the silent space, echoing eerily off the concrete walls. Izuku sits in the bean bag chair, evidenced by the poof of air and leather. He doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t remove himself from the cocoon of softness. Doesn’t even shift as the annoying daggers on his belt dig into his side where he lays. 

“Can I see your face please?” Izuku says when Hitoshi doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t fight it as Izuku slowly lowers the fabric of the blanket. He blinks the tears away rapidly and hopes Izuku doesn’t see, or has the decency to pretend not to if he does. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He’s still speaking in that soft and gentle tone he used to use on Eri before Hitoshi locked away her emotions on her trauma. It makes him feel like a child, and he digs his face into the pillow to hide. 

“Hitoshi.” Izuku says, a little more firmly. He winces internally. That’s the Deku voice. The voice he used when the war began, the voice he used every time he sent heroes off to die when they were cornered with nowhere to go and no choice but to push forward. It’s the voice he used when he would tell them that word of another stronghold falling to the enemy reached him. It’s the voice he uses whenever he has no choice but to get shit done. 

To Hitoshi, it sounds far too tired, and broken, and maybe just a little bit too resigned to his own fate. 

“‘M sorry.” Hitoshi mumbles through the pillow in defeat. The Deku voice means business, and Hitoshi is far too conditioned to respond to that voice no matter what to hold himself back. “He just makes me so mad, and it’s been so long since I had to think about what he did to her and I didn’t mean to screw up the mission. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t screw up the mission. I still managed to plant the tracker, we still have the chance to find Eri soon.” Izuku explains, still using his Deku voice. It leaves no room for arguments, as it’s designed to do, but ironically it makes him feel better, if marginally. 

Once upon a time, the Deku voice meant to prepare yourself. 

It means dig out your letter if you have any loved ones left living, and when the time comes, look your enemy in the eye, fight until you can’t anymore, then keep fighting even more. And if possible, pick a place to die where the ocean will wash you away, or somewhere Shigaraki can’t use your body as a Nomu base. The Deku voice was an omen among the rebellion. If Deku is speaking, and speaking without a smile, and he’s using that voice as he does, then you know what’s to come. He’s seen the true nature of men on days where Deku had to use the Voice. 

He’s seen cowards stand with steel in their spines and badass vets turn tail and run in the same breath. 

He’s watched last goodbyes between loved ones, first kisses shared because they know it’ll be their last chance to confess to the ones they love. He’s seen children shoulder the burden of living and adults turn to religion for the first time. Those who survive the days after when Deku had to use the Voice were never the same again, Hitoshi can speak from his own experiences. 

Izuku’s hand smoothes over his still tightly braided hair, and he closes his eyes to ward off more tears. 

“Okay.” Hitoshi whispers, then stronger he says, “What’s the plan now?”

“Let’s go upstairs Toshi.” Izuku responds softly, gently, and Hitoshi obliges. He leaves the cozy retreat and follows behind Izuku as they head back up the car ramp to the main area, where Dad sits waiting patiently on the ratty old couch they scavenged. Dad envelopes him in a hug when he gets in range, and Hitoshi sinks into the contact for a minute before they settle on the couch. Izuku drags his computer chair over so they can all face each other, and when he does he brings three notebooks from his shelf. 

“Alright then. Time to debrief on what happened, if you have anything of note to share about the encounter with Overhaul, now would be the time.” Izuku says flipping open the top notebook, which is a new one so it’s blank. He obsessively marks down page numbers in the top outer counters front and back as he talks. “I’ll go first. From what I observed, Overhaul deems us as a big enough threat that he wants us on his side, not as enemies. When the fight broke out, I managed to tag Chronostasis with a tracker, so we have his location. I’ll need to map out his average movements for a while to be sure of the location of their main base but other than that, nothing in particular to note. Shouta?”

“Rappa, the musclehead, seemed a lot more stable than I can remember from the original raid.” Dad says. “Easily cowed and still obedient to Overhaul, but from what I could tell, he’s not as devout and subservient to Overhaul as he was the first go around. There might even be a chance to spin him for information, but I can’t be too sure.” 

Izuku hums as he writes down the notes of what Dad is telling him, going far more than just noting that Rappa wasn’t quite as devout to Overhaul as the first time around. Hitoshi doesn’t know much about any of it, really, all he knows about the original raid is second hand. He knows what Eri went through was Hitoshi’s own worst nightmare. He knows that Overhaul was supposedly only defeated when Izuku used one hundred percent of One For All, with Eri healing him continuously. And he knows that Eijiro and Tamaki both came pretty close to dying that day. That Sir Nighteye did die that day. Mirio lost his quirk that day as well. 

So the only thing he has to say about the encounter other than his fuck up is, “I don’t know if maybe I’m a bit biased due to dealing with Nomu in my past life, but Overhaul didn’t feel as powerful as you described him to be.”

Izuku stops taking notes for a second to look at him. “Explain.” 

He pauses as he tries to get the right words together. “Well, I kind of snagged Overhaul early on with my quirk just in case, and he just didn’t feel as powerful as I expected him to be.”

There are things he’s learned about himself and his quirk over the years. 

Lots of new tricks that would ostracize him even more in this current society. Lots of little details of himself he denied and denied until he had no choice but to accept them as fact. About himself, he’s learned that he’s a selfish man. That he doesn’t really experience emotion in a way that most normal people do. He’s learned that his grieving process basically skips right to depression and stagnates, only stopping briefly for denial, his anger like an explosion-bright, hot, and far quicker than you would think. 

As for his quirk?

One of the things he learned how to do is measure a quirk’s power. He imagines a scale of one to ten mainly, and more often than not he’s relatively correct. It’s not actual numbers, he doesn’t actually get any sort of a perfect measure. How he ‘measures’ a quirk is by looking through the basic functions and the possible functions- sort of like when Izuku analyses a quirk- and compares it to other quirks he’s seen and felt. Instead of numbers or graphs or anything scientifically or mathematically correct, he just gets a good feel for the quirk itself and compares it to others. 

When he ‘measures’ a quirk with his own, he includes multiple factors. From what he and Izuku decided, he measures quirks using destructive power, room for growth, physical skill level and length of use. Erasure meets the low end, only because in objective terms, Erasure is a weak quirk. No destructive capabilities, no real room for growth unless Dad can learn to live without ever blinking, length of use starts high and gets progressively lower as his eyes dry out. Physical skill is where the money is at, because as weak as his quirk may be from an objective standpoint, Eraserhead is fucking deadly. 

Even down a whole ass leg and eye, he was still one of the biggest threats during the rebellion.

But anyways. For the middle of the spectrum, Invisibility meets the average. A decent, if a bit small, room for growth, but not enough to truly be worth something in today’s heroics. Since it’s a passive quirk, like Lie Detector or Tail, it’s always on, so top marks for length of use. But the destructive power is relatively low, though not at a zero like Erasure or Lie Detector would be. Since Toru has the ability to reflect light through her body, that makes her destructive power at about two. And- in the height of the war at the very least- she was as deadly, if not deadlier, than Dad is in combat. 

Over all, if he compares Invisibility and Erasure, they would both be around five on his scale. If he compares either of them to literally any powerful emitter quirk (HellFire, Explosion, etc. etc.) then they are zeroes. However, if he compares them in range with quirks of similar capabilities, it’s a monumental difference.

Going in, he figured Overhaul-the quirk that is- would measure at a seven or higher, but it didn’t. It made about a three for room for growth, a nine for destructive power, around five for physical skill, and a five for length of use, averaging to a total of five point five on the scale. He explains this to Izuku and Dad, who look intrigued and lost respectively. 

“That’s quite interesting. Given that he still has room to grow, then he hasn’t met his max number yet, so perhaps he’s only weaker than you thought he would be because he is.” Izuku says. He taps his pen on his notebook for a few seconds before he speaks again. “When was the last time you measured Erasure?”

Hitoshi scratches a nail on the scalp of his hairline as he thinks. “The last time I remember paying attention to Erasure’s measurement was before the Jump, about a year before Eri was killed maybe.” 

“Would you like to recheck his measure to see if maybe the numbers have changed?” Izuku says, looking excited at the prospect. Hitoshi gets it, he’s kind of giddy at the idea too. The idea that the measure is only a statement of the current person and not who they could or will be in the future is something new. 

“Are you suggesting Toshi is a literal measure for potential?” Dad asks incredulously. 

“Why, jealous?” Hitoshi says before he can change his mind, and when Dad responds with a no, he snags the line. He doesn’t pull it taught and flip the switch to put Dad under, he doesn’t need to, so he just holds the line and searches. 

If Hitoshi were to describe his quirk using metaphors, he would use a house. 

A really fucking strange house, but a house no less.

There’s different doors that lead to different things. The front door of the house is putting someone under his control and is the basic use of his quirk. The backdoor, which is usually harder to reach than any other door in the house, allows him to see through someone else’s eyes. He’s only managed to successfully do it once, and that was by accident. When he goes into someone’s ‘house’ often enough, eventually he’s given a ‘key’. Basically, it means he can access someone even if they aren’t there to respond. 

The only time he’s been able to use the backdoor, was when Izuku was kidnapped. 

They’d experimented with Brainwashing so much that without realizing it, he was given a key to the house. Izuku was kidnapped and tortured by the League for weeks, and running off of only five hours of sleep in total, thirty cups of coffee, twenty energy drinks, and spite for the duration of Izuku’s kidnapping, he’d basically collapsed from sleep deprivation. But even in his sleep deprived, coffee addicted, desperate and unconscious mind, he was searching for Izuku. And when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t looking through his own. The whole thing lasted, at most, five minutes, but it was long enough to snag a lead to the location when he woke up. 

He hasn’t been able to use anyone’s backdoor ever since. 

But it’s like a house, and houses have many doors. Or well, the ones he’s describing do anyways. There’s a door for the memories, which he used for the first time on Eri. A door for the quirk(s). A door for the body, a door for the mind after he leaves the house, etc. etc. Some people have more doors than others, some people may only have the front door. But everyone has the window that opens into the ‘office’, where his quirk allows him to measure their own. 

The window to Dad’s office is wide open when he climbs through.

It doesn’t take especially long to measure the quirk, but it feels like eternity to him by the time he leaves the way he came. The ‘office’ is a strange place for Hitoshi. There’s no actual door leading in, and some people’s windows have extreme security measures. Nezu? He once tried to measure Nezu by climbing through the window to the office, but it was barely a window at all. A long thin slat of tinted glass too thin for him to stick even an arm through, what almost seemed like biometric locks, and a tripwire that knocked him out and away from the ‘house’ when he tried to break in by force. Dad’s window is a small, frosted pane of glass that has a padlock, and is only just big enough to climb through, but since it’s wide open, he has no issues getting in. 

If he were to continue going along with the house and office metaphor, ‘measuring’ a quirk is like reading through the books on a bookshelf at lightspeed. 

Comparing Erasure to itself from before they jumped, he’s not surprised to see the numbers change and go up. Before they Jumped, Erasure measured around four or five, depending on how biased he decides to be. Now though? Now the numbers he comes up with average out to a seven on the scale. If he were to measure Overhaul in the first timeline, before he lost his arms to Shigaraki and before his fight with Izuku, what would his numbers come out to be? He explains to Dad and Izuku the new measurement as he muses to himself on what the possible numbers could be for people he’s measured before, but not Before.

“So what does that mean?” Dad asks, looking between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. 

“It probably means you actually did lose some of your power with your missing eye then. And we know you lost some of your physical skill without your leg so there’s that too.” Izuku says appraisingly. Then his face brightens as if an actual lightbulb went off in his head. “Ooh, do me! I want to know what your quirk would read for someone quirkless!”

“Favorite color?”

“Green!” Izuku replies, and his house practically crushes him with Izuku’s eagerness. 

Izuku’s house is different now. It’s smaller than he remembers, less mansion-like, and more of a townhouse. The front door is a bland gray rather than the electric green he remembers and the office window has absolutely no protection. It’s a big floor to ceiling window that opens without any pressure, and could probably fit someone the size of Mount Lady at her biggest. Last he remembers of Izuku’s house, the window to the office was a mix between Dad’s size, shape and frosted glass and Nezu’s ridiculous tripwire and biometric system. He’ll have to tell that to him when he gets the measurement. 

Being as objective as possible, knowing that Izuku with One For All tops the scale, he scans the miniscule amount of ‘books’ on the shelf. Instead of reading a ‘book’ for a quirk’s basic functions, he gets one on Izuku’s intelligence. He can tell it’s not an actual quirk as he feels around for one, so he at least knows Izuku is actually quirkless. The ‘book’ itself is a little weird though. There’s missing pages ripped out, a few spots in the meaningless ‘words’ that are blank, and the book is a volume one out of nine. 

Huh. 

That’s a bit weird, but okay. 

Rifling through the other eight volumes one by one, he’s only increasingly confused. The second volume is relatively full, no missing pages, but a few large blank spots throughout it. The third one is worse, and it gets increasingly more sparse until the last of the nine, which is almost entirely blank. Why are the ‘books’ here if they’re blank and useless? What does that mean?

He continues on with his search, cataloging the fact that Izuku’s physical skill is high but not maxed out. Maybe because he’s in a twelve year old body? Or perhaps because his ‘house’ knows there could be more with OFA? Both? There isn’t a book for length of use, again, because he’s quirkless, and as for destructive power, it isn’t registering a zero on the scale, but it doesn’t get higher than a two itself. All in all, he thinks the numbers would average out at around three or four. He can’t be sure because of those strange extra volumes. When Hitoshi is satisfied, he leaves the ‘office’ and blinks his eyes open. “Uh. Okay. Wow.”

“Tell me tell me tell me!” Izuku says. 

“So, your house is different, a lot smaller, and ten times less fortified.” Hitoshi explains. Dad looks lost again, but that’s probably because Izuku is the only person he’s ever told about the ‘houses’. He might have told Denki, once upon a time, but it took him a decade into the endless war before he started seeing ‘houses’ instead of just a light switch like when he was younger. “And instead of reading a quirk, I saw your intelligence, which isn’t a quirk but apparently registers as a replacement? But the weird thing is that the ‘book’ for your intelligence extended into multiple volumes, but the pages only got more blank as I went through them? There were nine of them, if that helps.” 

“Fascinating.” Izuku breathes out quietly, scribbling and scribbling and scribbling away in his notebook. Some things never change really. Two decades of war, more losses than you can count on one hand, and half a year of secret identities and stress filled planning later, and Izuku is still a huge quirk nerd. Suddenly he pauses mid-mutter. “Did you say nine volumes?”

“Uh, I did say that, yes.” Hitoshi responds. Izuku stares at him in shock for a moment before slowly continuing. 

“Hitoshi. Did you see anything out of the other eight volumes that was strange, besides their increasing blankness?” Hitoshi shakes his head. Izuku breathes out long and slow, his leg starting to bounce where he sits before it stills, and then starts again. Like even the subconscious tick is confused. “I think I have an idea of what you were looking at.”

“What is it?” Dad asks, eyebrows drawing low and tight. 

“After my kidnapping by Shigaraki, I was desperate to find something within One For All to help me defeat Shigaraki.” Izuku says, closing his notebook and setting it aside. He tangles his hands together in a way he hasn’t done in years, fingers twisting and tugging on each other. “And eventually, I ended up just, I guess you could say reliving? Reliving the lives of the eight holders before me. All of the knowledge they had gained over their respective lifetimes, all the training, the memories, the emotions, I had all of it. The reason I had the ability to remember nine different lives is because of an intelligence quirk.”

“But you’re quirkless.” Hitoshi says. He knows it’s true, he checked . 

“I am.” Izuku admits. “But during my kidnapping and-” Izuku stumbles on the word they all know has to be torture. “Shigaraki liked to give me quirks and rip them away over and over again. The process was painful itself, but what was worse was when he took away one of the quirks he gave, there was this emptiness inside me.”

“Izuku, you don’t have to-” Dad starts to insist. Izuku has never told anyone the exact details of what happened during his kidnapping. All they knew was that Izuku was kidnapped, and when they recovered him, he looked like he was mauled by a bear, partially healed, and mauled again. And there was an emptiness in his eyes that scared them all. Sometimes, even now, after the Jump, that emptiness returns and it tears Hitoshi apart not knowing why. 

It tears him apart knowing he doesn’t want to either.

“Please.” Izuku says simply, and Dad quietly nods. Hitoshi feels Dad’s leg press up against him, and Hitoshi presses back. A silent sign of mutual comfort. “When I was rescued, he had yet to take a few of the quirks he had given me back. One was an intelligence quirk that expands the memory processor and storage.”

“Your photographic memory.” Hitoshi breathes. Izuku smiles just a little brokenly. 

“It's an eidetic memory, but yes.”

“So the books?”

“Are the knowledge of the past holders, of which has been fading now that I’m quirkless.” Izuku says. 

“Fading how?” Dad asks. 

Izuku stands up from his seat to grab a few notebooks, only three, before sitting back down. “When I had the chance, I wrote down everything I could possibly remember from the other Eight. Memories, knowledge, everything. This is only a few that I have.” Izuku says. He sets the three notebooks down on the coffee table, the top one labeled Eighth Holder, Part One. He taps the books with a finger. 

“Most of what’s written in these notebooks I have been forgetting. Along with other things that are relatively unimportant, like how to tie shoelaces, but I relearned it, along with Quirk History and such, of which I relearned as well.” Izuku explains. “But anyways, I think those blank spots are the parts I’ve been forgetting about the other lives. It’s not something major to be concerned about, but you should know at the very least.”

It’s silent for a long moment as Hitoshi and Dad try to process the information. 

Eight completely different lives, different memories, different knowledge and experience. He can’t imagine. Just having the two lives they have now is almost too much for him. “Okay,” Dad eventually sighs out when the silence drags on a little too long. “We can talk about this later, I need time to process this and look through those notebooks. We’re supposed to be planning a raid.”

“Right, my apologies.” Izuku says, grabbing the second notebook he originally had, leaving the stack on the table to taunt him. “Okay so, before we can plan anything, we need to make a few decisions. First off, the idea with the bullets, how are we feeling about it?”

Dad breathes heavily through his nose and rubs at his eyes. “I don’t like it, but I can’t say it’s not a bad idea. I don’t know if we can permanently erase all of All For One’s quirks, but it’ll certainly help in the fight. I’ll agree to it, but only if we make sure that we don’t traumatize Eri any further.”

“I agree with Dad.” Hitoshi says, after finding his voice and pushing away the complete nonsense of what he’s just been told. “It’s not something I want to do, but I also didn’t want to kill for the sake of an endless, winless war. If we can come up with a way to make the bullets without hurting Eri, then so be it.”

Izuku’s shoulders lose some of the tension they were holding up. “I understand, and we’ll think of something for it. My first idea is putting her under Brainwashing to extract enough blood gently without her even realizing it was happening, but I also know that if she ever found out about it, she would lose all faith in us, and maybe heroes as a whole. Depends on how damaged she’ll be when we retrieve her.”

“I don’t want to put her under for that.” Hitoshi says quietly. 

“I understand.” Izuku says gently. “We’ll come up with something. Worse comes to worse we scrap the entire idea altogether. I loved her too, I don’t want to hurt her either.”

“What other decisions are there to be made though?” Dad asks. “If we agree to do this plan only if we can do so without making things worse for her, then that’s all there is to it, right?”

“Not exactly.” Izuku says. “How do you feel about getting outside help?”

Chapter Text

Nezu feels like he’s losing his mind a little. 

He’s rereading over the missing case for Shouta for the hundredth time (one hundred and forty two to be exact) and he just doesn’t understand. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe he’s looking too far into things. Maybe he’s just a little too sleep deprived and desperate. 

But he swears he heard Shouta’s voice. 

When the three vigilantes interrupted the meeting among his staff regarding bringing Hawks into the fold (upon the vigilantes recommendation at that), bringing in a heavily injured Soldier for Recovery Girl to fix up, he knew from the moment the call ended he wanted to spin the situation to his liking and pry some information from the vigilantes. It’s the least he could do for Shouta, given he’d hit a wall in his missing case. Rehabilitating the vigilantes was Shouta’s last main case before his disappearance, so of course he was going to try and finish the job for him. Gain the vigilantes trust, pry out some more information from them, maybe steer them towards getting licensed. 

It was going so well too. 

Probably without realizing it, Silence gave a lot away. Confirming Shouta was alive would have been enough for Nezu at the time, but he got so much more than he bargained for. The tender care and sorrow in Silence’s tone as he spoke about breaking points. The quick reaction to Soldier surging up from the bed in a panic. That phrase he used. Do you want me to make it better? 

That all would have been substantially more than what they had. 

But he swears on his own intelligence, Soldier had Shouta’s voice. Nezu is not one to make leaps without information, but it all makes too much sense. It makes so much sense that it doesn’t. Silence and Secret ‘warning’ Shouta the week before his disappearance. The relatively short amount of time in between the disappearance of Shouta and the appearance of Soldier. The slightly similar fighting styles. How Soldier managed to get past his security measures largely undetected. 

Soldier is Shouta and Shouta is Soldier. 

It has to be. It makes too much sense. And, if he goes with the theory that Soldier and Shouta are one and the same then it all ties together. Secret and Silence must be, have to be, cannot be anyone else but Midoriya Izuku and Shinso Hitoshi. 

The large sum of yen that was taken from Shinso’s foster family. The extremely well made and very professional, expensive suits and gear. The note that Midoriya left behind for his mother, with the still unfamiliar code. Nezu recalls some of the words in the letter that had caught his attention when he first read the letter. “... but it’s something I must do… keeping me safe, keeping me happy… it’s my turn now.” The note with the same code that Shouta received the night of the disappearance. Three vigilantes. Two of them with the height and build of children. 

Good god, they even color coordinated. 

Midoriya is smart, clever, and fast. Secret is smart, clever and fast. Silence is antagonizing and chatty. Shinso needs a response for his quirk to work. Shouta is protective and self sacrificing. Soldier took a hit that would have killed Secret instantly. 

It makes too much sense. 

But why? That’s the question to be answered. If Shouta is Soldier and Soldier is Shouta, why disappear and join the vigilantes after trying to rehabilitate them for months? Why are those three vigilantes so involved with the wards of UA? Toga Himiko. Todoroki Touya. Bubaigawara Jin. Keigo Takami. 

What importance do these people, these children and young adults, have that Shouta would give up everything he has in order to save them, specifically? His husband, his jobs, his friends, his cat? Why would two children abandon their homes and lives and goals? Midoriya abandoned his mother, who genuinely loves and cares for him, but Shinso was an abused foster kid, so he can kind of understand that one. Villainized because of his quirk, no friends, no family, no stable foster home. 

So why? 

Why specifically on their birthdays? And why the sudden change of attitude from Shouta? And why are they making enemies of people left and right? The Shie Hassaikai hate them, the criminal underbelly fears them, the Commission wants them dead. They’re trying to change the system and succeeding , not only in Japan but across the world. The names Silence, Secret, Soldier and Sequence are household names in most if not every major country in the world. 

And who the hell is Sequence?

Could he have missed one? Someone else who dropped off the map for this cause? Maybe Sequence was the first, and they recruited Shouta and the kids one by one? Maybe Shinso went rogue and used his quirk to make all of this happen? But why would Shinso do that if he had the ability to do so? How would he do it? It’s a call and response quirk, he needs to be able to speak to his opponent and hear the response. The three of them before all of this happened never even crossed paths. 

Midoriya Izuku doesn’t live in a neighborhood bad enough to get put on any of Shouta’s patrol routes. He’s lived in the same apartment, on the same street, in the same part of Mustafu his entire life. Even with his hero chasing hobby, he rarely ventures out far enough and late enough to even see Shouta in passing. He has a sort of routine set of movements that he followed every day of his life. Same path to and from school. Same path to town to chase hero fights. Same streets to the same store at relatively the same time each week. Same set of alleys when he wanted to lure in his bullies to get beat and lessen their attention on him for a time. As clever and intelligent as Midoriya is, he isn’t paranoid, so he takes the same routes he always does because he deems them safest, as convoluted as they can sometimes be.

Shouta and Midoriya never got close enough to cross paths. 

Shinso Hitoshi has lived in, at the time of the last foster family, six different homes. Abandoned without a word on the doorstep of an orphanage in the heart of Tokyo at three years old, before his quirk came in. Unknown parental relations, no note, and only a small backpack with a few essentials and a snack. He was moved to a new home a few months later, a month before his quirk came in. He lasted at that home for a year and a half. The third home he stayed for almost a full two years before he was moved again. The fourth only lasted a few months, the fifth was a year and a half, and the latest family he was with for almost three years before he ran away and this whole charade started. 

Shinso and Shouta were in the same area only once when Shinso was around eight years old and with foster family number four. 

Shouta was only in the area for about two months working a weapons trafficking ring. They were on opposite sides of the city, and at no point does there show any actual interaction between them. There’s no interest in an abused child case of an eight year old boy with purple hair, because Nezu knows his human. He knows Shouta would have taken notice immediately and done at least some digging into the situation, leaving even a miniscule paper trail for Nezu to follow. Besides the fact they clearly never interacted, to have a hold with his quirk over someone over a three year time period is unheard of for even the strongest of control quirks known to Nezu. Not even including the fact that it would be a loose sort of control in order to allow the victim to remain unaware until the time comes for activation. And why would an eight year child have planned three years in advance to drop off the map and start a revolution? 

Shinso is a smart child, but he isn't that smart. 

He also isn’t that powerful. Given the circumstances of his last foster home, Nezu can make an educated guess that he was never allowed to even really talk freely, let alone use his quirk for most if not his entire life. Which would mean that the quirk growth would be stunted, since he wouldn’t have a chance to train his quirk. His quirk is call and response, which means he needs a partner in order to practice his quirk use. Nezu highly doubts the boy would have the chance to practice enough to keep a continuous loose hold on someone who wouldn’t be close enough for him to re-strengthen the hold. 

Can’t be Shinso then.

Does he tell Yamada? What if he’s wrong? He’s Nezu, and he knows himself well, he is rarely ever wrong but what if? What if he’s seeing things that aren’t there because he’s so desperate to return his human where he belongs? What if he’s so sleep deprived that he simply imagined Soldier having Shouta’s voice? What if it was just another voice modulator like Silence has, and it was set to Shouta’s voice when Soldier woke up? 

There’s too much what if’s for him to be comfortable sharing any of this information with Yamada. 

Some way, somehow, Nezu needs to get the answers from the vigilantes themselves. He needs to arrange a meeting with one of them and ask them directly, with the detective there to verify. Silence and Soldier are immediately out of the question. The possibility of Soldier being Shouta is too high, and Nezu knows his human. If he asks Soldier if he is Aizawa Shouta and he’s right, he’ll spook and go underground and there’s a possibility that Shouta may never come home. Because if he’s right about their identities, then the story Secret fed to him must have been Shouta’s ticket home. 

He can’t confront Silence, because if Shinso is Silence, and he spooks, there’s the possibility of Shinso using his quirk to make Nezu forget, if he can. Which is a high possibility, because there’s too much they don’t know about Brainwashing because of the stunted growth. Mental quirks- specifically centered around interacting with another person’s body or brain- are notoriously complicated. There’s always something that doesn’t fit the cut and dry description of the initial quirk descriptions. Too risky. 

It has to be Secret or Sequence. 

He’s never spoken to Sequence directly, so he highly doubts they’ll be willing to have a sit down with him and the detective now. Too skittish, too paranoid. They spook when Nezu asks one wrong question over online chat. Their quirk is a mystery as well, and their personality is hard to pin down given all of their chats have been in text format so far. He does know Sequence holds the vigilantes in high regard, and that they are fond of word battles. Prying information out of Sequence is near impossible.

He needs to meet with Secret.

He has no choice. If he wants definitive answers, Secret is the best bet. Not only is he the leader of the Snakes, but he’s also the one least likely to make a run for it the moment he starts asking questions. Given the new information provided by the impromptu meeting in Chiyo’s office, Secret is playing the long game. He’s planning for the future, preparing Shouta (if Soldier is Shouta after all) for a way back into his old life with minimal push back. With one meeting, one battle of words, Secret has made a cover story, a way back home, and provided some sort of information regarding their goals. It’s minimal, but it’s there. 

Why else mention quirk experimentation rings when he didn’t have to?

Silence had already confirmed Shouta being alive, Secret could have kept with that and stayed there. Instead, however, he expanded the story into a quirk experimentation ring. One that isn’t on any open investigations. One that shouldn’t really exist. There is something there that he isn’t seeing yet, something Nezu needs to look into before requesting a meeting. 

Which means he needs to pull every case file the vigilantes had a part to play in since their appearance and sort through them for clues. 

He refuses to rush into this blind. He needs to know exactly what he’s walking into before he does anything rash. He’s Nezu, he’s one of the smartest beings in Japan- in all of Asia even- and he does not do things irrationally. What is Shouta always saying? 

Irrationality is the absence of logic, and therefore a shortcut into death.

Chapter Text

Fuyumi tugs at her hair, making sure it covers the earpiece she’s wearing. 

She’s fixing to walk into the hospital where her mother is staying, and she’s beyond nervous. For the past two months, she’s hardly visited at all, whereas before she visited twice a week. And now it’s time to take the interview. It’s time to finally get her mother to talk to her. She’ll finally be able to get answers, real answers. She won’t like them, she feels it in her gut that she won’t like what she hears one bit. 

But she has to do this, there’s no backing out now. 

She’s spent two months becoming an entirely new person. Training, studying, doing everything in her power to be ready for the days to come. Well the days to come are here now and she doesn’t feel half as ready as she should. She feels more like she’s ready to hurl into the neatly trimmed bushes rather than interview her own mother on everything Endeavor has ever done to her. 

“Relax Icicle.” Touya’s voice says, filtering through the earpiece. It makes her fidget with her hair a little more. “Everything is alright, we’re gonna be fine. You’ve got Nao and I here to help walk you through this okay? Just relax.”

“I can’t.” She mumbles, darting her eyes around to make sure no one is paying too much attention to her and seeing her talk to herself as she slowly climbs the steps to the hospital. “I’m too nervous to relax.”

“I know.” Her brother’s voice is so gentle as he says it. It takes her back to days where she cried every night as she helped bandage his wounds when Mother couldn’t stomach to look at him, before Sho was even born yet. Where he would walk her gently through what to do with the softest of voices, hiding the pain he must have been in to make her stop crying. “I know you’re nervous. This is the first real step to being done with all of this and being free, and you’re scared you’re going to mess it up. I know how you feel, Snowflake.”

“I think all these ice related nicknames are kind of outdated, given I’m fire and you’re ice now.” She mumbles back at him, trying to muster a smile so it might come out in her voice. 

“Nah, you’ll always be my little snow flurry. But now I can make fire-related ones too.” Touya muses. “How about cindercicle? Cinder, icicle? I like that one, I’mma keep it. Or maybe snowflame?”

“Yumi used to call me fireflake, like fire and snowflake.” Shouto’s voice suddenly says and Touya starts cursing loudly. Fuyumi has to hide her grin behind her coat sleeve as she enters the doors. 

“Shouto! Where the hell did you come from?” Touya yells.

“I hid in the trunk.” Shouto says blandly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Yes.” 

“Then why the hell are you here!?”

“Wanted to come too.”

“That’s not an excuse you little demon!”

“Boys, please, she needs to focus, and school is halfway over now anyways.” Naomasa chimes in, and Fuyumi has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud at his sudden exhausted tone. She can hear Touya grumbling, but it’s quiet enough that she hears when the receptionist, Wei-san, a little chinese woman who is nothing but kind, calls her name with a bright smile. She makes sure to keep her shoulders slightly hunched and her eyes lowered like she used to do before Naomasa entered her life and Touya came back. 

“Wei-san, it’s good to see you.” Fuyumi responds quietly. It’s strange, being so aware of all the little things she never realized she used to do until she had to keep doing them to keep Endeavor complacent. Covering her face with her hair or sleeve, instead of wearing it up and not having sleeves to begin with. Being quiet, staying on the sidelines and never holding eye contact. These last few months have really allowed her to come out of her shell, and she can tell. 

“It’s been a while Todoroki-san. Here to see your mother I presume?” She responds, already handing her a visitor’s pass for the mental ward. Fuyumi takes it gently between her fingers, adjusting her coat to make sure her shiny new badge clipped to her slacks doesn’t show. Before she can pull her fingers away, Wei-san hands her two pieces of chocolate, one for her, and one to sneak to Mother. 

“I am. Thank you Wei-san.” 

“Anytime dear.” She winks and Fuyumi smiles at her as she makes her way up the steps to the mental ward. 

“Do you remember what you have to say to start the interview officially?” Naomasa asks through the earpiece and Fuyumi almost rolls her eyes. It isn’t like he hasn’t spent the last week grilling her on every aspect of a victim interview. 

“Yes, I do, now shush, people will start noticing me.” She whispers back. She feels a lot more confident as she finds her mother’s room, the same room she’s used for years. She doesn’t know how he does it, but Touya has always been able to settle her nerves, make her relax, and today is no different. She knocks on the door quietly like she always does, a pattern of three, a pause, and then two more. She can’t remember when she started doing that, it feels like she was born knowing it. 

When she walks in, Mother is sitting up in bed, looking out the window. The flower she brought last time is wilted and dying and Fuyumi hurts when she sees it. She’s never gone long enough without visiting for the flower to wilt even a little. Mother turns to her, bags under her eyes indicating she hasn’t been sleeping well. Her silver-white hair is matted a little on the back of her head, meaning she hasn’t brushed her hair in at least a few days, but she smiles brightly when she sees Fuyumi, gray eyes lighting up. 

“Yumi, it’s been so long!” Mother says, standing up from the bed to hug her. Fuyumi hugs her tightly, blinking back tears so she doesn’t make her make-up run. 

“Hello Mother, I missed you.” Fuyumi says quietly. In her ear she hears Touya and Shouto both mutter at the same time, “I forgot what her voice sounded like.” 

“Is everything alright at the house?” She asks. She’s never once called the estate home. Fuyumi understands why now. Home, to her, is where her family is, and more often than not these days, that’s at Naomasa’s house. Where Touya tries to teach Shouto how to play video games, and Natsuo devours the knowledge of the medical books she buys him, despite him not being able to go to University for a few years yet. Where Naomasa shares gentle affection and Fuyumi can laugh and smile and just be free of burden. “Is Shouto alright? He’s not training too hard is he?”

Fuyumi used to silently resent that. How Mother always asks about Shouto first before Natsuo or herself. She doesn’t anymore, because she understands more about her mother than she ever could before. Shouto stifles a pained keen on the other side of the earpiece.

“Shouto is doing alright. He’s getting out of the house a lot more often now.” Fuyumi tells her. “Natsuo has decided he wants to be a doctor, so I’ve been buying him medical books. He goes through them so quickly I sometimes wonder if he even reads them at all. And, Mother, Mom -”

She takes her mother’s hands into her own, looking at the floor as she prepares to tell her about Touya. “Mother, Touya-”

“Is alive. I know dear.” Mother says, cutting her off and cupping her cheek when she snaps her head up. 

“You know?” 

“She knows?” Touya says at the same time. 

“It rang true.” Nao says in disbelief. 

Ignoring them, she asks, “How?”

“A mother knows, a mother always knows.” Mother says, looking sad as she runs her thumb across Fuyumi’s cheek. “I just wish he didn’t come back.” 

“What?” Touya says, pain in his voice. 

“What- why not?” Fuyumi asks. 

“Whatever life he was leading on the streets, wherever he went, whatever he had to do, it was better than being in that house.” Mother explains, leaning back and letting go. “I only wish you had done the same. Take the boys and run as far as you could. Anything to free my kids from Him.”

Fuyumi swallows thickly, hating herself for never doing just that. 

“There is a difference about you, dear girl.” Mother says firmly. “Tell me what has happened.”

Shaking the intrusive thoughts of you should have done more, been better, been stronger away, she removes her coat and removes her badge from her slacks. Handing the badge to her mother, she says, “I’m Detective Todoroki Fuyumi, and I would ask if you are willing to make a statement against Pro Hero Endeavor for a pending child abuse and spousal abuse case.”

“Oh Fuyumi.” Her mother whispers, running her fingers over the fresh silver. She shakes her head, never looking away from the badge. “You know it’s no use, he’s too powerful, the case would never take.”

“You’re wrong.” Fuyumi says strongly, pleading for her to listen. “I’ve made some friends in high places Mother, places even He can’t reach. We can do this, but we need your help.”

Mother hands her back the badge. “Do you even have a plan?”

“Yes, everything is ready, we just need you. Will you help us? Help me?” Fuyumi asks. Mother looks at her for a moment, and Fuyumi would get down on her knees and beg if she knew it would help. 

“What would I even be able to do?” Mother says, gesturing around the room. It’s small, with cream colored walls, windows that won’t open, and a small bathroom. This room has been her home for- Fuyumi can’t even remember how many years it’s been. She doesn’t want to do the math to figure it out either. “I haven’t even been outside since I came here, no jury would take the word of a mental patient.” 

“We’ve got it all figured out, I just need to interview you. All you have to do is answer my questions, tell the truth, and talk to me.” Fuyumi takes her mother’s hands again to make her look her in the eyes. “This will work, I promise.”

“Okay.” She finally answers, “Okay, ask your questions, I- I will do my best to answer them.”

“Thank god.” Naomasa says in relief through the earpiece. “I was afraid she would refuse anyways.” 

“Thank you.” Fuyumi says, and pulls out her notepad, pen, and recorder. "Before we begin, I may know the basics of everything that's happened, but I have to ask the questions like a third party outsider. You understand right?" 

"Of course." Mother responds. Fuyumi nods and starts the recording.

“This is Detective Todoroki Fuyumi of the Musutafa Police Department, apprenticing under Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa of the Musutafa Police Department. It is eleven twenty seven in the morning and we are at the Musutafa General Hospital in the mental ward. Do you accept the terms of the interview?"

"Good, that's perfect, Detective." Naomasa praises in her ear. 

"I accept the terms of the interview." Her mother says, running her hands through her hair nervously. 

"I would like to inform you that at any time during the interview if you would like to take a break, inform me and we will continue the interview once you're ready. Please state your name, age, and date of birth for the record." Fuyumi recites, as Naomasa taught her to.

"My name is Todoroki Rei, I am forty years old and I was born on the nineteenth of December, 2XXX."

"For the sake of the record, this interview is taking place due to the accusations against Pro Hero Endeavor, civilian name Todoroki Enji, for claims of spousal abuse, child abuse, child neglect, and abuse of the Quirk Marriage Laws of 2XXX, among other accusations unrelated to to the interview. When you're ready, you can start at the beginning." Fuyumi says, preparing for a long and painful interview. She has to look down at her notepad to avoid looking at her mother.

"You're doing great, Snowflake." Touya says. 

"Okay." Mother says, taking a deep breath. "I don't know where to begin, honestly." 

"Wherever makes you feel the most comfortable. I understand this may be difficult to talk about." Fuyumi says in response. It's something she heard Nao say in one of the victim interviews she watched him take, of a young woman who was almost sexually assaulted.

"Well. I guess it started when my husband-" she pauses, straightens her shirt and clears her throat. "Acquired me from my parents for marriage-" 

The interview lasts an hour and a half, and Fuyumi has to pause the interview only twice. Mother held herself together well given she’s telling Fuyumi everything, even the things she doesn’t know already. When the interview is done, Fuyumi signs off like Naomasa taught her to, and she immediately gives her mother a strong hug when the recorder is off. Unlike what usually happens, Mother clings to her tightly, fingers twisted in Fuyumi’s blazer. 

Mother doesn’t cry, but even so, when they pull away, her eyes are as bloodshot as Fuyumi’s feel. 

Fuyumi leaves the hospital not too long after, and her shoulders feel lighter than they ever have. It helps that, the moment she climbs into the undercover police car, both of her brothers latch onto her just as tightly as Mother has. There’s still much left to do, too much to do and not enough time, but the end is on the horizon. 

By this time next year, her baby brothers will be free and in her custody.

Chapter Text

Izuku is only mildly surprised to find Nezu asking for a meeting with Secret when he logs onto their private chat server. 

He hasn’t been on the chat for a few days now, busy tracking the movements of Chronostasis, hashing out a plan for a raid on the main Shie Hassakai base, debating with Shouta and Toshi over who they could include on the raid. Izuku would really like at least Midnight to be there. Her quirk will be invaluable, able to put most of the underlings to sleep and saving their energy for the big fights. Shouta is against it though. He doesn’t want to put her in unnecessary danger.

Izuku can understand that to a point.

Midnight died before the war went full swing, fighting Gigantomachia. She had been ambushed, killed, and left to rot by the League, and Shouta has always blamed himself for her death. He blames himself for most of the deaths of their friends and family actually. And Izuku understands that. He understands it’s harder to be around Kayama than it is to be around even his Sunshine. 

But Kayama Nemuri is a hero, and a damn good one too. 

It is quite literally her job to be in the middle of dangerous situations, and having her at their back- and them at hers- will make this job far easier than it could be without her. Not to mention Izuku really wants to discuss her hero suit, it is way too vulnerable for a hero like her. She needs something sturdier, something that will actually protect her from harm, but that’s a different conversation for a different time. 

Back to Nezu’s message though. 

Nezu wants to arrange a meetup with Secret and Secret only, with only Tsukauchi as Nezu’s backup. The message says that he wants to discuss something relevant to the missing cases of Midoriya Izuku, Shinso Hitoshi and Aizawa Shouta, but Izuku can read between the lines. There’s something more going on here, and given that they want to speak to Secret and Secret alone only adds to his suspicions. Nezu wants to arrange the meeting within the next couple of days, at a little hole in the wall cafe in Gifu, not too far from their base. 

Izuku leans back in his computer chair, tugging at his lip as he considers. 

This feels like a trap, but he knows Nezu. He knows Nezu very well actually. Nezu doesn’t lay traps that are obvious, he makes convoluted, outrageous plans that leave the victim unsuspecting as they walk blindly into his cage. He likes playing games, he’s never so straightforward and obvious about his intentions. 

Perhaps this is a trap, and the trap is that it’s so obvious Izuku would walk in thinking no trap was laid because Nezu likes to play games, except this time he goes straight for the kill which would leave Izuku floundering because Nezu is a clever bastard and likes to show off that cleverness. Or. This actually isn’t a trap, and Nezu genuinely wants to have a peaceful discussion about the missing cases. Or. This still isn’t a trap to capture him, but, the missing cases are a logical ruse in order to get information from Izuku on something else?

God his fucking head hurts. 

What game is Nezu playing here? Is he playing Cat and Mouse? Is he playing the Instant Elimination? Is he playing something new? Just what mindgames is the Rat God trying to start? Maybe he’s trying to psyche Izuku out to get a better read on him? Or is this a ploy to get a read on Sequence who is also him? 

“Izuku, we’re back!” Toshi yells as he climbs down from their new entrance and lands on the couch. It took some finagling, but Hitoshi asked for a better way into the base that also constitutes an emergency escape route- which is the only reason he convinced Izuku to do it. So Izuku ‘borrowed’ a diamond bladed Cut-Off machine (which is a machine that cuts through concrete, asphalt and metal) from a construction site two prefects over to cut a small hole just big enough to fit a person through from the roof of the underground garage. They installed a rope ladder that comes down when you yank a cord, and it’s almost directly over their couch. 

Shouta comes falling down the hole a moment after, landing on the floor instead of aiming for the couch like Toshi does.

Izuku spares them a quick glance, before immediately locking back onto Shouta, who tries to angle his body away from Izuku. There is a very suspicious bulge in the jacket of his suit, and Izuku feels like downing a bottle of migraine medicine just looking at it. He already knows the answer, but just to be sure he asks, “Shouta, what is in your jacket?”

Shouta stops trying to sneak his way to the other side of the base where their bed spaces are. “Nothing.” Shouta says, very unconvincingly, just as there is a meow from inside his jacket. 

“Then why is your jacket meowing?” Izuku asks, already rubbing his forehead. “You can’t have a cat, Shouta, take it back.”

“But look at her!” Shouta, honest to god, whines. He lets the kitten poke her head out of his jacket, and Izuku agrees, it is a very cute kitten. 

“Very cute, absolutely gorgeous, take her back.” Izuku says. “If she’s a stray, which I’m guessing she is, then take her to a shelter. You cannot have a cat right now.”

Shouta’s shoulders slump and he moves back to the hole with dragging feet. Hitoshi just laughs at him, shaking his head. “I told you so.” 

“I hate you both.” Shouta pouts as he climbs back out of the base, pulling up the rope ladder as well when he’s on the other side. Izuku just sighs and turns back to the computer. He swears to god, this happens at least once a month. Last time, they even managed to keep the cat a secret from Izuku for a whole week. 

“What are you up to?” Hitoshi asks from the couch, turning on the TV and playing the hero news quietly. “Oh look, we made the news again.” 

“If it’s about the major drug ring we busted in the Aomori prefecture, I’ve seen it.” Izuku responds. “As for what I’m up to, Nezu has requested a meeting.”

Hitoshi flips the channel. “Sounds good, when are we meeting with him?”

“He’s requested a meeting with Secret, and only Secret.” Izuku responds, turning in his chair to watch Hitoshi’s reaction. He blinks blandly at the screen before tilting his head to the side and back to look at Izuku. 

“That’s suspicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” 

“You gonna go?” Hitoshi asks. Izuku tilts his head side to side before answering. 

“I don’t know. I’m thinking it might be a trap, but if it is, it’s an obvious one and that’s-”

“Not Nezu’s style. What did he say he wanted to meet about? Who’s going?” Hitoshi asks, silencing the TV and giving Izuku his full attention. 

“He says he wants to discuss our missing cases, but given it will only be me, him and the Detective, I don’t know if I believe it.” Izuku says, idly spinning his chair from side to side as he thinks out loud to Hitoshi. “Something tells me there’s more to this meeting than just our missing cases. He’s been content enough to speak to Sequence through private chat about them up until now, so what changed?”

“Think maybe he’s onto us?” Hitoshi says. Izuku shrugs.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, he’s Nezu. I didn’t think we’d be able to hide our identities from him forever, I was just hoping maybe we would have lasted an entire year first.” Izuku says. “What do we do if he is onto us?”

Hitoshi blows out a slow breath. “I don’t know Zuku. You know the Rat better than I do, maybe even better than Dad. What do you think we should do about it?”

“Well, we agree this isn’t something we can do on our own. We’ll need some type of help, and I don’t know who better to trust than Nezu. Besides, even if this meeting doesn’t turn out with our identities exposed, it’s only a matter of time until he figures it out. We only have so much time to get this shit done before UA, and at least one of us needs to be there when the time comes, just in case.” Izuku says, spinning a little harsher from side to side. “Our plan before the Jump could only be so detailed, and while I have a schedule for us to follow, there’s always going to be something that throws a wrench into our plans. No plan survives contact with the enemy, that’s rule number one of War Tactics. The fact we made it this far is surprising enough, so I feel like if we have more people on the outside, people who know, maybe this won’t be as difficult as we had thought?”

Izuku sighs, rubbing his face. “I don’t know Toshi. I really don’t. I want to include outsiders, I want to have their backup. But what if involving other people is the wrong move? What if it just ends up with those people dead all over again?”

“We can’t know exactly what is going to happen as we change the timeline, Zuku.” Hitoshi says after a moment of contemplative silence between them. “We can make all the plans we want, but that’s not gonna change the fact that things are already so much more different now than they were before. Touya is in a home that is safe and healthy and he’s rebuilding his relationship with his siblings. Endeavor is set to be taken off his pedestal within the year. Himiko, Jin and even Hawks are all put on brand new paths than what they followed the first time around. Things are already changed, it’s only logical that our plans change with them. For fucks sake, we thought the first year would be Touya and Himiko alone but here we are. If you think it’s worth the shot, then go to the meeting. Otherwise, we need to cut contact with UA and its wards to avoid Nezu.”

There’s a little chime and Izuku turns back to the computer where a new message awaits him from Nezu.

Do we have a meeting Sequence? Is all it reads, Nezu’s icon indicating he’s online and awaiting a response. 

“Say I'm going to this meeting.” Izuku says out loud, still eyeing the message. “What then? What should I do?”

Hitoshi sighs, stands up and joins Izuku at the computer, leaning over his chair and reading over Izuku’s shoulder. “Well. First off, this cafe means public, meaning you can’t go in gear. We have a fanbase after all, and we don’t want people getting video or photo evidence of us speaking to Nezu. If it gets around, we may lose some of our contacts in the underground.”

“So I’d have to go in disguise.”

“Right.” Hitoshi says. “If it were me, I would let them lead the conversation, especially with Tsukauchi there to confirm if you speak the truth or not. If the meeting feels like a trap, I suggest having an escape route ready to go.”

“And if this meeting is Nezu having figured out our identities, what then? Do I go with it, confirm who we are, and bring them into the fold? Or do I cut ties?” Izuku asks, tapping his fingers against the desk. 

“I think that has to be up to you to decide. Whatever you choose, you know we’ll back you up without question.”

Izuku groans, swiping a hand through his short curls, trying to make a decision. If he goes, and confirms and/or reveals their identities, and then he brings them into the fold, that’s putting them in more danger than they need to be in. If he doesn't go and cuts contact with UA, he risks losing insight on the Todoroki and Hawks situation, he risks losing control of what happens from here on out. 

“Maybe we should wait for Shouta to get back?” Izuku says, chewing on his lip. Another message comes through from Nezu. 

I need an answer Sequence.

“Seems like Nezu isn’t going to wait that long.” Hitoshi says. Izuku stalls a moment longer before typing out his response to Nezu. 

We have a meeting. Tomorrow, noon. Secret will meet you there. 

“I really fucking hope we aren’t making a mistake with this Toshi.” Izuku says, leaning back in his chair and laying his head on Hitoshi’s arm. Hitoshi shifts so that he can thread his fingers through Izuku’s hair. It helps settle some of his nerves. 

“I know. We’ll see what happens, and when Dad gets back we can debrief him on the situation.” Toshi says. 

“He’s not gonna like that we made this decision without him.”

“True, but you're his favorite. Just flash those puppy dog eyes at him, look like you’re about to cry and then he’ll cave.” Hitoshi responds, flicking Izuku’s forehead lightly before heading back to the couch. “Wanna watch Hero News with me?”

Izuku blows out a slow breath and shakes his head. “No thanks, I’m gonna go for a quick patrol to clear my head a bit, maybe stake out the cafe and the surrounding area. Let me know when Shouta gets back so we can talk about this as a team.” He stands from his chair and grabs his jacket, having never taken his suit off from the patrol he did earlier in the day. He’s got one arm in the jacket as the other yanks the cord to the ladder when Hitoshi responds. 

“Will do boss!” 

Izuku doesn’t bother answering him with anything more than a middle finger as he makes his way through the hole.

Chapter Text

Naomasa can’t say he’s not a little wary of this meeting. 

Nezu called him a few days ago to make sure he would be free for a secret meeting with the vigilante Secret. Who is he to disagree, when he’s been driving himself into a wall trying to figure out the identities of the most famous vigilantes to come from Japan since the Quirk Wars? Not only is it his job to identify, arrest and rehabilitate vigilantes, but can you imagine what it would do for his career? Figuring out the identities of the Snakes when the entire country is doing the same thing? 

Naomasa already has a lot of sway in law enforcement.

Between being Toshinori’s personal liaison for law enforcement and Underground Heroes, being requested so much around the country that he literally has no specific station that he works with primarily, and having this new connection with UA’s Principle, he has power. More power than he ever imagined when he was just a little kid thinking he would never get to be a hero and that he would be stuck as a lowly police officer for the rest of his life. Naomasa is not powerless. Physically? Yes, he’s weaker than most of the Japanese population due to his passive mental quirk. But politically? No, Naomasa is not powerless. 

And if he can be the one to unmask the vigilantes that have turned the entire world on its head, god, the possibilities. 

However, that doesn’t stop him from being a bit wary of the meeting, even as he sits in a booth on the same side as Nezu, waiting for Secret to arrive. Nezu has already debriefed him on what the meeting is about, but the information was vague. Nezu has an idea of what face lies beneath those masks, but if their identity matches his assumptions, Nezu doesn’t want to spook the group into hiding. Hence why it’s only Secret they’ll be meeting with today. Nezu needs Naomasa here to confirm if Secret is telling the truth when he answers Nezu’s questions. 

No back up, no official recordings, just Nezu, Naomasa, and Secret. 

He’s not ashamed to admit that he’s positively foaming at the mouth for this information. He knows Touya knows something, but Touya is suspiciously tight lipped on the matter, even when his siblings ask him. Naomasa remembers casually eavesdropping on a conversation a month ago between Touya and Shouto. Shouto had been begging for information on the vigilantes that had saved them from Endeavor. And Touya answered dutifully, but in a way that was frustratingly vague while not seeming vague at all. Shouto didn’t seem to pick up on it from Naomasa’s perspective, listening in on the conversation from the kitchen where he was making the kids some food before having to reluctantly send them back to the family estate. And if he did, Shouto must have picked up on Touya’s ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ vibe. 

Speaking of the kids, Naomasa doesn’t know when he got so attached. 

Touya and Fuyumi, he could understand. One is his ward who he’s currently responsible for taking care of, the other has become a sort of apprentice. Normally ‘apprenticeships’ are done by heroes for heroes in training. A hero focuses on one or a few children, no more than four at a time by law, who are aiming for the heroic track, and trains, mentors, and teaches them to be the best hero candidates that they can be. It’s not normally a thing done in police work. There’s just no need for it. 

You pass the officer’s exams, and you partnered with a senior officer at your respective station, and they show the ropes of the streets, but it’s not a mentor-student relationship. It is a complete partnership, where they are equal to each other, despite one having more experience. Filing for Fuyumi to be an official apprentice of his, which was the only way for her to take the Detective’s exam early instead of waiting until she had a minimum of two years on the streets, was difficult. 

Even though Naomasa, technically, has a hero license, he does not operate as a hero, he operates as a detective. Or maybe even more like a freelance PI, one who gets government paychecks instead of a client’s. His hero license was more of a formality than anything really, he didn’t even take the Licensing Exam. The only reason he has it is because the Hero Commission made him get it to give him the authority they needed him to have to be able to send him around the country as needed. 

So, he can understand his attachments to Touya and Fuyumi, but the other two? 

Shouto has started imitating him. On more than one occasion he has caught Shouto out of the corner of his eye, quite literally copying his every move. Naomasa folds his hands together while talking about something serious? Shouto does it too. Naomasa’s eye starts twitching because someone is casually lying to him in a casual interaction and it isn’t like he can turn off his quirk? Shouto starts forcibly making his eyes twitch with polite smiles when he talks to strangers. It’s both endearing and absolutely terrifying. Now Naomasa has to watch his own every move just to make sure he doesn’t start teaching Shouto bad habits. 

And there’s Natsuo. 

That kid is all over him. Whereas Shouto copies him from a distance, subtle in his observations, Natsuo is a different story. Natsuo wants his attention all the time, every day, all day, no excuses. He’s started getting annoyed whenever they’re around strangers-at the park, in a police station, a restaurant, etc.- and those strangers take Naomasa’s attention away from Natsuo for even a second. Natsuo cussed out an old lady! She just wanted directions, but because she was interrupting Natsuo and Naomasa time, he told her to ‘fuck off and leave him alone, he’s mine!’. Touya broke down into tear filled laughter for twenty minutes when Naomasa came home, collapsed in his chair and lamented the entire situation to him. 

It’s kind of intimidating, just how much these kids adore him. 

Naomasa has talked to his therapist about all of it. It’s a recent addition to his weekly routine. With Toshinori’s continued decline in health, Shouta’s disappearance and the sudden reality that he has two children and two young adults relying on him to keep them safe, not to mention the vigilantes and their constant headache-inducing shenanigans, it was kind of needed. According to her, it’s because Naomasa has become the first male adult figure to show them positive interaction. 

Shouto is probably copying him like he does because he wants to be as far removed from his father as possible, and in his eyes that means Naomasa. Natsuo has been pretty much ignored his entire life, and now that Naomasa is giving him the attention he craves, he refuses to let that attention be off of him or his siblings at any point in time. Of course, Suzuki-san has no idea who the kids are or where they came from, and doesn't even know their names. All she knows is that Naomasa is a detective working a delicate case of child abuse, and these kids have latched onto him as a father figure. 

A father figure!

What is he supposed to do with information? Huh? How does he take that information and live with it? Natsuo and Shouto look at him like a father, even if they themselves might not realize it. He doesn’t know how to cope with that kind of responsibility. It’s one thing if these kids were biologically his, or even just adopted children of his. But they aren’t. Naomasa has no legal ties to these kids, so what happens when the case is over and done with and Fuyumi gets full custody of her little brothers? He’s not delusional, he knows Fuyumi is attached to him enough to keep him in their lives, but… It’s still a lot of responsibility. 

Not only are these kids relying on him to free them from Endeavor, but Natsuo and Shouto are relying on him like an actual parent. Which means Naomasa needs to step up, somehow, and show these two little kids that not all adults are bad, and that there is such a thing as parental love, and that it’s okay to trust people, specifically heroes. Except the thing is, Naomasa doesn’t know how to do that. He doesn’t know how to be a father, fucking hell, he doesn’t even know how to be a partner! 

“You seem to be thinking quite hard, Tsukauchi. Anything of note?” Nezu asks casually from beside him in the booth. Naomasa doesn’t look Nezu, too embarrassed to be caught freaking out about his sudden role in the kids’ lives. 

“Nothing to be concerned about.” Naomasa lies, like a lying liar. His eye twitches at the lie that pings his quirk and that usual sense of betrayal at his own quirk comes back. He’s always had a love hate relationship with his quirk. Do you know how hard it is to get away with things as a kid when your quirk betrays you for your own lies? He changes the subject quickly. “How did you manage to set up a meeting with Secret anyways? From my understanding, vigilantes avoid you like the plague, and the Snakes are notorious for making sure they have control in any situation.”

“I simply asked,” Nezu responds brightly, folding his paws on the little table they’ve secured for this private meeting. There’s a light ping for ‘truth’ in his head. “You would be surprised what wonders just asking can do.”

“If I asked him and his friends to stop breaking into my house, do you think they would?” Naomasa muses. 

“Definitely not.” A new voice chimes in behind them. 

Naomasa turns around to find what looks like a normal kid standing behind them. He knows better though, because the kid’s face is covered in a normal face mask and he’s wearing sunglasses, a black hoodie, and black cargo pants that are suspiciously familiar. The ‘kid’ is standing in a very assured, confident way that Naomasa associates with the Snakes. It’s something a bit more deadly, a bit more dangerous than the typical confidence of the average hero. Not even Toshinori gives off that silent assurance in his posture that at any moment in time, they can kill you and walk away without ever being caught. Without needing his quirk, Naomasa knows this is Secret. 

Only the Snakes have ever given off that silent deadliness with posture alone.

“I can arrest you, you know that right?” Naomasa says blandly, turning around and slouching down in his seat. 

“But you won’t!” Secret responds lightly, rounding the table to take a seat on the other side of them. Another annoying little ‘truth’ ping from his quirk, as if Secret is so assured that Naomasa won’t arrest him that it comes off as truth and not the inconclusive drone of an opinion. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Nezu, Detective?”

“I merely have some questions to ask of you regarding the Midoriya-Shinso-Aizawa case,” Nezu responds, re-folding his paws on the table as Secret gets comfortable. Naomasa takes in the looseness of Secret’s posture, of how he sits right on the edge of the booth seat. Secrets hands stay close together on top of the table, but not intertwined. If Naomasa looks close enough, he can see the familiar fabric of the jackets the vigilantes wear as uniforms, as well as the gleam of silver metal tucked underneath his sleeve. Could be a knife, or could be those weapons they use like whips or a bastardized version of the Capture Scarf. 

“Is that so?” Secret hums noncommittally, and Naomasa recognizes the quiet whir of their voice modulating masks. When he looks at Secret’s face mask, he realizes it’s bulkier than the average cloth face mask should be. Naomasa will bet his life savings that the goggles they wear are tucked underneath the hood of the hoodie and/or jacket too. Apparently Secret has come in full gear, with a disguise over the top of it. 

Naomasa is not exactly surprised at this information. 

“Has there been any new developments in their cases?” Secret asks. 

“Not anything particularly substantial, unfortunately.” Naomasa’s eye twitches as the quiet alarm of a ‘lie’ pinging his quirk goes off in his head, and he realizes that Nezu just lied. Nezu just lied about not making substantial progress in the missing cases of Midoriya, Shinso, and Shouta. Naomasa tunes the conversation out as he tries to figure out what the hell that means. 

Nezu asked him here for this meeting because he had a lead on the vigilantes' identities. He just lied about not making progress on Shouta’s missing case. And now that he thinks about it, Nezu said he had questions to ask about the Midoriya-Shinso-Aizawa missing cases, and it rang true. 

Naomasa desperately tries to keep his face in that practiced blank look he’s cultivated over years of police work and being friends with Shouta, and looks a little closer at Secret. Secret, who is the size of a child. Secret, who popped into existence only four months after Midoriya ran away. Secret, who came after Silence-like Midoriya disappeared after Shinso. 

Holy shit, Nezu can’t be serious. 

He tunes back in just in time for Secret to get fed up with Nezu dancing around questions. “Alright, I’m kind of on a time crunch here,” True. “So what is it you really asked me here for Nezu?”

“Very well then,” Nezu responds. “Are you Midoriya Izuku?” 

Holy shit, Nezu is serious. 

Secret doesn’t respond for a long moment, one hand tapping against the table with his nails, making a quiet clacking sound that seems to ring in Naomasa’s ears. “So you figured it out.” What? 

What!?

Secret reaches up to his face, removes not only the cloth mask, but the high tech mask and sunglasses as well. The face that gets revealed is a face Naomasa recognizes only from photographs. Specifically a photograph attached to a missing person’s file. More specifically, Midoriya Izuku’s missing file. 

“You-but-you’re-how-” Naomasa can’t seem to string together a full sentence, and Secret- Midoriya- smiles at him. It is not the smile he had in the photographs. It’s not bright, as big as Toshinori in his All Might form, and full of teeth. This smile is close lipped, mildly sardonic, and vaguely reminiscent of Shouta’s. 

“What do you plan to do with this information Nezu?” Midori-Secr-Midoriya asks. Naomasa feels like he might be having a mental breakdown with this revelation. 

Nezu is quiet in his response. “I don’t know. Why?” 

Midoriya tilts his head, sardonic smile widening. “Why what? Why do all of this?” Nezu nods his head, and Naomasa can only stare at Midoriya. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He wants to turn away and close his eyes, but he can’t, too fascinated by the destruction about to happen. “That is a difficult question to answer, one I won’t answer until you answer me. What do you plan to do with this information? Arrest me? Expose us? I know you know who Silence and Soldier are, at the very least. So what now Nezu? Where do we go from here?”

Nezu, for the first time Naomasa has ever seen or heard about him, looks absolutely lost. “I don’t know. I just want my human back.” 

Midoriya’s smile softens considerably at this unexpected admission. “You care very much for Shouta, do you not?”

“I do,” Nezu answers, and Naomasa resolutely ignores the quiet ping of truth in his head. Midoriya turns his attention to Naomasa, and he is reminded of his earlier statement to Nezu. The Snakes maintain absolute control in any situation, and Secret has complete control once again. 

“What about you, Detective? What do you plan to do with this new information?” What does he plan to do? That is quite easily the dumbest question he’s ever been asked. It’s clear what he plans to do, it’s what he’s been planning from the start. 

“Bring Shouta home of course.” This seems to be the right answer for Midoriya. Midoriya reaches a hand into the hoodie pocket and pulls out a card. Naomasa reaches forward to grab it, but just as he’s about to grab it, Midoriya pulls away slightly. 

“On this card is an address. If you want answers, you will come to this address in two days, after dark. You will use an unmarked vehicle, and you will bring Present Mic and Midnight with you, no one else. Tell them what you know and who we are.” Midoriya hands Naomasa the card. “If you break our trust, I will tell you this now, you will never see any of us ever again.”

It rings true. 

“Why are we coming to this address?” Nezu asks. 

Midoriya stands from the table, putting his masks and sunglasses back in place. When he speaks again, his voice is once more disguised by the voice modulator, and Naomasa is vaguely startled by the stark difference between the smooth adult voice of the modulator and the high pitched voice of Midoriya. “Because you want answers. My team and I have discussed it, and we have agreed to bring you four into the fold, so long as we can trust you. I’ll see you in two days.”

Midoriya walks out of the cafe as silently as he came in, and in moments he slips out of Naomasa’s view of the street. Moments later, the vigilante Secret is making his way across the rooftops. 

Chapter Text

Shouta hates this. 

Here he is, not even five feet away from his Sunshine, and he can’t even force himself to look up from the floor. He can’t bear to look up and see Hizashi staring at him in what must only be betrayal. It isn’t like he wanted this, but they have a job to do. Letting themselves fall into the fantasy of being their old selves with their old relationships, letting themselves pretend that they don’t know what they know, it will make things worse. Shouta wishes he could have gone home the night he Jumped and crawled into bed with his Sunshine and pretend that everything was just a really bad dream.

“Shouta, please,” Hizashi begs in a near whisper. There’s so much pain in his voice. Pain that Shouta put there. “Why won’t you look at me?” 

Shouta looks up from the floor briefly, locks eyes with his Sunshine, and he can’t stop the way he flinches. Hizashi is as beautiful as the day they met. His long blonde hair is actually brushed and washed, and his eyes may be red rimmed from recently crying, but there’s no deep eyebags or stress lines. Dare he say it, but Hizashi looks better than what Shouta saw when he went to visit Jin at UA and check in on him. He doesn’t look as much of a mess as he did the last time Shouta saw him face to face.  

Hitoshi grabs Hizashi’s attention away from Shouta, and out of the corner of his eye he can see his son signing. We wait for Green, Hitoshi signs. They sit in silence for a few minutes when Izuku finally comes landing out of the hole cut into the ceiling, and Shouta and Hitoshi both straighten in their seats. Izuku lowers his hood and removes his mask and goggles completely, tossing them gently onto the coffee table. He takes the open seat in between Hitoshi and Shouta, unzipping his jacket but not taking it off. 

“Alright, so the perimeter is secure.” Izuku starts removing his gloves as he speaks. “I understand you all have some questions, so why don’t you go ahead and ask them, Nezu?”

Nezu, when Shouta takes a quick glance away from the floor, is frowning. 

“I have a few more pressing questions than others. Primarily, the why. I know how you disappeared, when, where, and what you did after, but I still have no reason. Why did you three run away from your homes and become vigilantes?” Nezu asks. 

“To be fair,” Hitoshi says, even raising a hand like the moment he started speaking he didn’t have the room’s attention. “That wasn’t my home.”

“Hitoshi,” Izuku says tonelessly, bordering on exhaustion. Hitoshi has that kind of effect on people. 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up.” Hitoshi pouts and slumps into his seat, miming the motion of zipping his lips closed. As if that’ll last long. He can’t go two minutes without running his mouth, Shouta knows this for a fact.

“Any more questions?” Izuku asks after making sure both Hitoshi and Shouta hold their tongues. He makes the hand gesture they use in battle that means ‘lead’ which means let Izuku take the lead with this.

“Was there any connection between you three before you disappeared that we might have missed?” Naomasa asks. “And what about that code, 1213171SC? What does that mean?”

“There’s also the matter of how you built costumes and support tech when you showed no signs in your internet history of being interested in support mechanics beforehand.” Nezu continues. “And how did you know about Endeavor, or even Hawks for that matter? And the others, Toga Himiko and Bubaigawara Jin. How did you come by your information? Is it your missing fourth, Sequence?”

Izuku leans back in his chair, crossing his hands over his stomach loosely, staring Nezu down. He raises one eyebrow at them. “Is that all?”

“The most important questions, yes,” Nezu responds.

Izuku doesn’t answer for a long time, just staring and waiting. Shouta shares an amused glance with Toshi, knowing exactly what Izuku is about to do. He feels eyes staring at him, and when he meets Hizashi’s eyes again, Shouta directs his attention to the floor. He’s too ashamed to look at Hizashi or Nemuri right now, knowing he’s only putting them through more heartache.

The silence reigns for a long, long minute, before Izuku straightens in his seat. 

“No, that’s not all the questions you want to ask,” Izuku says. “Those are just the ones you’re limiting yourself to so you don’t scare us off. I know better.”

“What do you-” Nezu starts to say but Izuku cuts him off. 

“You’re wondering why a child is the leader of our little group and not Shouta, the experienced Underground legend of a Pro Hero-” That’s a bit much, Shouta would hardly call himself a legend, he just does his job. “You’re wondering why I don’t seem intimidated, despite you having looked into my past thoroughly. You want to know why I’m not answering your questions like I told you I would, but now you’re starting to think I might not actually be quirkless, because how else would I know what’s running through your head?” Shouta barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Problem Child was born to be a Spottie with his flair for the dramatics.

“How-”

“You’re currently trying to figure out why it is that I know things I’m not supposed to when I have never really met you. Now you’re feeling a little intimidated, a little alarmed. You know I’m smart, but exactly how smart must I be to be able to read you so well? Have I been stalking you? Just how much do I know about you?” 

Shouta looks up at Nezu and sees the, admittedly well hidden, fear building in the Rat’s eyes. It makes him shiver in discomfort. “Izuku, dial it back. You know it makes me uncomfortable when the Rat starts feeling genuine fear.” 

Izuku leans back into his seat, spreading his hands open in a placating movement. “My apologies. I don’t intend to scare you.”

“Lie.” 

“I intended to scare you just a little bit,” Izuku corrects quickly. “So you’ll listen to what I have to say without dismissing me out of hand.”

“We’re listening,” Hizashi says. Shouta’s stomach twists at the uncharacteristic quietness to Hizashi’s usually loud voice. 

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Nezu asks, equally as unnervingly quiet and subdued. 

Izuku tilts his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to know? There are some things you can’t unlearn after all.”

“We’re sure,” Naomasa says. 

“Just tell what’s going on,” Nemuri adds. “Please.”

Izuku shrugs, recrossing his arms and focusing on Nezu. “Very well then, I’ll try to keep it short.”

Chapter Text

The Unwinnable war. The Eternal war. The Impossible War. The Futile War.

There were many names for the hopeless fight against Shigaraki’s Nomu army that circled around the rebel factions, just as there were many different points throughout the beginning of the war that were considered the start. The USJ Incident. The Hosu Incident. Eraserhead’s first kill. Grieving Day, even, the day Nezu was killed and UA fell. But among all the debates, there was one thing the entire rebellion agreed upon. 

They would not go down without a fight. 

In the first few months after Nezu’s death, that was when the rebellion was at its weakest. With no clear leader, their allies were scattered and unorganized, eventually forming factions and making things worse. Each faction wanted their faction leader to be the leader of the rebellion, inciting infighting and almost going into a full blown civil war on top of the war raging with Shigaraki. Their forces were weak, and it’s a miracle they hadn’t been wiped out entirely in that time. 

Shouta had tried, but Eraserhead was not meant to be a war commander. 

It wasn’t until Izuku and his classmates stepped forward and threw themselves into the fray that things started coming together, that they started to look like an organized front. It was actually Momo’s idea to split up, take control of each faction, and come back together united as one army. It worked splendidly. 

Denki took control of the faction which had taken control of Shikoku Island, while Hitoshi had been in Fukushima. Mezo went to Kyushu island, since he had been the only one from that area of Japan, and knew the streets well enough. They had spread out far and wide across Japan, worked their way into each faction's ranks and had systematically taken control of almost all twenty seven factions, with some help from Old 1-B. As each faction was taken control of, it was Izuku’s job to direct his old class and yearmates into rebuilding the rebellion from the ground up. All while keeping track of Shigaraki’s movements and relaying information to his classmates, who would soon become his Generals. 

Izuku doesn’t know how he was chosen as the true leader, he thinks it sort of just happened. 

As the most organized student in 1-A, and a personal student of Nezu’s, it fell to him to keep everything going smoothly. Originally, the plan had been for all twenty students of 1-A to lead, but that never would have been sustainable in hindsight. Armies need a commander, someone to direct the generals who would direct the captains who would carry out the orders given to them. By the time each faction was reintegrated into the rebel army, Izuku had become that commander. 

For the first two years, everything was going rather smoothly for a war. 

Casualties had shortened exponentially with Eri’s help, they were slowly retaking Japan territory back from Shigaraki starting from Kyushu and Shikoku islands as the most defensible and the closest main islands to Shiketsu. Of which had become command central since UA was a pile of indefensible rubble already. Then, all of a sudden, the borders were closed. They were no longer receiving aid from other Asian countries, no longer receiving any imports or able to send out any exports. Which meant no relief on medical or food or soldiers. Izuku will never know what really caused the other countries to turn on a dime and abandon them but one thing became clear.

Japan was on its own. 

After the closing of the borders, everything started going wrong, and Izuku started losing not only territory, but Generals too. Soon after the borders closed, the Commission made their first and consequently final big move by kidnapping a number of heroes, heroes in training, and civilians in order to make strong quirks stronger. Of the thirty nine people Taken, only four came out alive from the battle. Of the thirty five who died in the process of the Breaking or the ensuing three way battle, two of them had been Izuku’s classmates, his Generals. Shouto and Ochako didn’t deserve their fates. 

None of them deserved their fates.

“Shouta, Hitoshi and I are time travelers,” Izuku says out loud to the room as he relives memories of the war in his head. “Let’s just get that out of the way first.”

“That’s impossible,” Tsukauchi responds. “It rings true, but it’s impossible. There’s no record of anyone who can time travel or who has a time travel quirk.”

“Not true, and not yet.” Izuku runs a hand through his short hair, skimming his nails along his scalp to help him relax. The memories of the war play vividly behind his eyes every time he blinks. “There are people who have quirks that are basically a limited form of time travel. Time looping quirks are the most common example, but that isn’t all there is in the world. However, there is a boy, who is probably about two or three years old right now, who has the most powerful time travel quirk known to man. Or will have, I suppose I should say.”

“Who?” Nezu asks. Izuku shakes his head.

“I’m not answering that. Not until the day comes where I need to find him and protect him from the Commission’s child soldier program, because I guarantee I won’t be able to dismantle the Hero Commission properly before his quirk comes in.” 

“Sequence seems to have that covered.” 

“Yes,” Izuku says, and he can’t help his annoyed tone from slipping free as he glares at Nezu. He has no proof, but he would bet every single All Might merch he owns that it’s him. “And we would appreciate it if you would stop boosting the posts. This has to be done a certain way in order to prevent the reason for us traveling to the past in a last ditch effort from happening again.”

“Okay, hold on.” Hizashi starts waving his hands in order to grab their attention. “If what you’re saying is true, what could have been so bad that you would travel back in time to fix it?”

“Maybe,” Hitoshi drawls. “If you would stop interrupting him, you would find out.”

“Be nice, Toshi,” Shouta says with a long, suffering sigh. “It’s not their fault, I wouldn’t have believed us either.”

“Everyone be quiet.” Izuku waits for the room to silence before he continues. “In our original timeline, the country, and then I would assume the world as a whole, descended into an unwinnable war, one that we are trying to prevent.”

“True, but how-”

“Shut up and just listen,” Izuku snaps. God he hates being interrupted while he’s talking. 

“The war went on for almost two decades. Two decades of which we were on the losing side.” Denki’s last stand created an electrified fog that lasted for months. Kyouka was turned into a Nomu and killed by Momo. Katsuki blew himself and the entire island of Hokkaido up. Too many losses. Not enough bodies. “By the time we were given the option to time travel, our army was reduced to eleven.”

“We were approached by the civilian with the time travel quirk after the last stronghold fell,” Shouta says, voice quiet and holding sorrow. Izuku knows he’s thinking about Eri. Izuku’s little hero, who grew up in violence and never knew peace. 

“There were supposed to be four of us.” Hitoshi’s voice is as equally pained as it is hollow, staring at the wall, and seeing right through it. “He didn’t make it.”

Izuku takes a deep breath so he can continue speaking without breaking into tears. Neito may have been an asshole from start to finish, but he was a brother, a comrade. “Before we Jumped, as the civilian called it, the last eleven of us devised a plan to stop the war. If it weren’t for when Hitoshi and I were born, we would have gone further back.”

“All of this is ringing true, and I hate to say it, but,” Tsukauchi says to Nezu, Mic and Midnight. His eyebrows are creased and drawn low over his eyes. “I believe them.”

“I have a question,” Nezu says, not responding to Tsukauchi and instead staring Izuku in the eyes. “Why you three? If it was a matter of age, why not choose someone older?”

“That’s pretty simple, actually.” Hitoshi points at Shouta. “His quirk is Erasure, we need that for the final stages of our plan to work.” He points at Izuku. “He was and is our leader, our commander. The war would have ended a hell of a lot sooner without him leading us, and it would not have been in our favor. Not to mention, he was our best bet at remembering all the information we needed to complete the mission.” Hitoshi then points to himself. “And I was-am a foster child. No one would miss me if I disappeared. Plus, my quirk is Brainwashing, and with all of the things I can do with my quirk, well. You get the picture.”

“We went back as far as we reasonably could,” Izuku explains. “Hitoshi and I are twelve right now, if we had gone back any further our mission would be that much harder. So now we have less than three years to make things happen, and some of our list has already been done.” 

“The wards of UA.” Nezu’s tone is of silent realization. Izuku nods. 

“Todoroki Touya, A.K.A Dabi. The cause of the destabilization of the people’s faith in heroes.” 

Hitoshi adds, “Toga Himiko, no alias. Killed a number of our allies by infiltration and impersonation, driven mad by blood-starvation and causing a second almost-civil war in the rebellion.”

“Bubaigawara Jin, A.K.A Twice, the unlikely strategist of the enemy forces,” Shouta says. “We suspect it was his plan to officially indoctrinate the traitor by having him kill Nezu, thus being the cause of the first almost-civil war within the rebellion.” 

“And then there’s the traitor,” Izuku finishes off. “Takami Keigo, A.K.A Hawks, A.K.A Icarus. Originally sent undercover with the enemy as a double agent, who was turned into a triple agent by the enemy. He led the Fall of UA.”

“Killed one of our classmates, who was a forced traitor as well.”

“Killed Nezu in one on one combat while the rest of the enemy forces attacked the hero classes. I had to choose. My students, or my mentor and friend.” Shouta grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes closed. Izuku places a hand on Shouta’s arm, and while Shouta shows no outward response, the tension in the line of his shoulders eases. When Shouta speaks again, his voice is hollow. “I ripped his pretty little wings off in retaliation.”

“That was only the beginning,” Izuku says. “Which is why we can’t risk distractions by family or friends or lovers. The list is long, and we have only so much time. Which brings us to why we asked for Midnight here.”

“Why?” Kayama’s voice is broken and strained, and Izuku politely ignores her tears as she grips onto Shouta’s Sunshine like he’s the only thing keeping her from drowning.

“We’re preparing for another person on our list,” Shouta explains. “She’s about three years old now, and she never became a villain. Her name is Eri and she-”

Shouta doesn't finish his sentence, choking on his words. Shouta reaches up and holds onto Izuku’s hand tightly. Hitoshi picks up where Shouta left off, head lowered and fingers picking at a loose thread on his chair. “She’s my sister, not biologically, but she’s my sister. After she was rescued in the first timeline, her family name, like mine, became Yamazawa.”

“Are you saying…?” Hizashi doesn’t continue, but if Izuku had to make a guess, he doesn’t need to. Shouta’s trembling shoulders say enough. 

Izuku clears his throat to stave off his own tears. “She’s being held captive and experimented on by the Shie Hassakai, and while I’m positive in our ability to do the mission without help, we would prefer-”

“If I were there to put the yakuza members to sleep.” Kayama’s eyes are wide as she stares at Shouta who is slowly calming down from his silent sobs. 

“Precisely. Eri is our last resort. If our plan fails by the time Hitoshi and I are old enough to be in UA, she’s our last option of winning the war,” Izuku explains. 

“How is that?” Nezu asks.

“Her quirk is called rewind. She can ‘rewind’ a living being all the way to the point of non-existence.”

“That’s terrifyingly powerful,” Tsukauchi whispers. 

“Indeed. Which is another reason why we need to get to her sooner rather than later. In the hands of the enemy, she can be a very big problem.” Izuku eases his hand out of Shouta’s grip and stands up, holding his hand out to Kayama. “So, are you on board?”

Kayama stares at his hand for a moment looking lost, before she takes a breath and steels her expression, taking Izuku’s hand in her own. “I’m in. What do we have to do?”

Izuku can’t help the vicious smile that spreads across his face.

They have allies now. Invaluable, trustworthy allies. Between Nezu and Izuku’s brains, Hizashi’s power, Kayama, Hitoshi and Shouta’s quirks, and Tsukauchi able to cover their tracks, Izuku’s ‘dream team’ is slowly coming to fruition. There’s still a good handful of people Izuku wants by their side when they come to blows with the heavy hitters of the League of Villains/Paranormal Liberation Army. All Might for one. Sir Nighteye as well. Maybe a few other people if need be. 

All that’s left now for Phase One is rescuing Eri, hopefully creating those quirk erasing bullets with the help of Momo and Mei, and touching base on the Endeavor situation.

Chapter Text

Hizashi catches Shouta before he can slip away after the three show them out of the makeshift headquarters. 

There are plans for them to reconvene in a week at the base, so that the Overhaul raid plan can be finalized and Nemuri can be debriefed. During the entire railroading of a meeting Midoriya led, Hizashi had resisted the urge to confront Shouta, if only so he didn't ‘scare them away,’ like Nezu wanted to avoid. Now, however, the meeting is done, it’s nearing midnight, and Hizashi doesn’t plan to let Shouta slip away. 

Not yet.

Not until Hizashi has some answers, some real answers. He believes their story about being time travelers enough, kind of hard not to when both Tsukauchi and Nezu believed them as well. That doesn’t, however, excuse the fact that Shouta abandoned him. Left him to suffer thoughts of his death or torture with no reliable leads to find him because any lead they came up with was fake. 

“We need to talk,” Hizashi says, right before he grabs Shouta by the arm and manhandles him away from the group. Shouta puts up little resistance. Hizashi tries to ignore the way his Moonlight’s shoulders slump in defeat.

They go down the street and around the corner into an alleyway, so that they might be able to have some sort of privacy. He doesn’t want to involve anyone in their marital issues, not until he himself knows whether those issues can be resolved or not. 

“Hizashi-”

“No,” Hizashi interrupts when Shouta tries to speak. “No. You are going to stand there and listen to what I have to say first.”

Shouta doesn’t respond for a long moment before he quietly, almost too quiet to be picked up by Hizashi’s hearing aids, responds with, “Okay.” Hizashi takes a second to collect his thoughts and stem the overflow of rage, confusion, betrayal, and longing that threaten to consume him. 

Hizashi has always known that one day, one of them might not come home. That one day, there would be a bloody battle, one that they couldn’t walk away from, and he’d made his peace with that years ago. He understands that their work, their careers, are not the safest. He understood that the day they lost Oboro. Hizashi has made his peace that one day, either he would leave Shouta alone, or be left alone in this world himself. 

However, dying on the job and purposefully running away, pretty much faking your own death, are two very different things. 

After Shouta’s disappearance, Hizashi couldn’t seem to function. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, barely even moving . And a part of him knew it wasn’t fair- to Nemuri, Nezu, or anyone that Hizashi cares about- to let himself rot away in his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been lost, fumbling in the dark for months, searching for a light switch he would never- could never - find. So how was he supposed to feel when, after so long, he discovered that there was a flashlight just beyond his grasp? 

He’s not naive; he knows that Inko, Midoriya’s mother, who was suffering like he was, was the only reason he managed to keep himself together these past few months. She held a lamp in the darkness. The only beacon of hope as far as the eye could see. 

He wonders if Shouta and the kids know about that.

Do they know that Inko mother-henned Hizashi, Nemuri, Tsukauchi and Nezu until they started taking better care of themselves? Do they know that Inko had been given a full access pass to UA, just so she could be sure the four of them ate and slept and drank some water? Do they know that she has practically moved into the teacher’s dorms, filling it with the scent of fresh baked goods and keeping every single staff member at UA from drowning in their own grief and self-hatred? That Inko is the only reason, the only reason, that Hizashi is even still alive ?

Do they know Hizashi, grasping at memories of what he lost, looked over the edge and was tempted to fall? 

The answer was crystal clear: no, they do not. If they did, maybe it wouldn’t have taken them six months to ask for help. “Why didn’t you take me with you?” Hizashi finally manages to mutter, voice cracking as he speaks. His throat burns as his quirk fights to activate without permission. Despite the near whisper of Hizashi’s volume, the words seem to echo, bouncing off the alley walls and hammering at his broken ears. Shouta swallows thickly, throat bobbing obviously enough that Hizashi’s eye snags on the movement. 

Hizashi’s gaze travels to the side, landing on the tail of Shouta’s french braid, which hangs in front of his neck.

It’s such an odd thing to notice in the darkness of the alleyway. Shouta’s hair is neatly trimmed, no split ends, and it’s well taken care of. Washed, conditioned even, given the slight shine to the usually coarse strands. Hizashi can’t count on two hands how many times he lamented his husband’s poor hair care. He was always bribing Shouta to allow Hizashi to treat it with even just a cheap brand of conditioner to make the locks smoother, shinier. They’ve gotten into hundreds of half-superficial arguments about Shouta tying his hair up for patrols so it won’t give him away in a fight. Shouta used to hate, absolutely despise, tying up or braiding his hair. Always saying it “made his scalp ache” and “what’s the point when he fights in the dark where no one can really see the lifting of his hair?” 

“Izuku already told you, we couldn’t-”

“I don’t care what ‘Izuku’ said,” Hizashi grinds out between clenched teeth. “If you had just told me-”

“You would what? Join us? Abandon your radio show, Nemuri, your students, just to join a cause you know absolutely nothing about?” Shouta’s voice is almost cold as he says it, but Hizashi knows his husband too well. He may not recognize his Shouta in those haunted black eyes, but he knows his husband, and he can hear the heartache in his voice. 

“Yes,” Hizashi says. “For you, I would do anything, go anywhere. I could have helped, but you didn’t even bother to consider-”

“You don’t understand-”

“Then make me under-”

“You died!” Shouta yells, silencing Hizashi with the absolute anguish in his Moonlight’s voice. He hasn’t heard such pain since, well, ever. Even with Oboro, Shouta’s voice never sounded like this, and Oboro’s death broke Shouta. When Shouta speaks again, his voice is soft. “You died. And there was no way for me to stop it. Nemuri died before the war even began, and there was no way for me to fix it. I have lost-” Shouta chokes on his words before he takes a breath and keeps going. “I have lost nearly every single person I have ever cared about. There were only eleven of us left, twelve with the civilian, when Toshi, Izuku and I made the Jump. I could not- would not- risk losing you all over again Sunshine.”

The confession is enough to make Hizashi reel back as if he’d been struck. 

They fall silent for a moment while Hizashi struggles to process Shouta’s words. He genuinely can’t imagine just what kind of things Shouta had been through before the ‘jump’. His heart aches for Shouta and the kids and the horrors that they saw, the war that was so bad they came back in time to fix it. He can’t imagine going through any of it, but he also can’t imagine a world in which he would willingly abandon Shouta, make him think Hizashi is dead, all while being a stone’s throw away. 

Is it so wrong that he wishes Shouta had a little more faith in him? Is it so wrong that he wanted to be by his husband’s side, in life or death, as he marched in a three man crusade? Is Hizashi in the wrong for blaming Shouta, when Shouta suffered an unspecified amount of years, losing people every time he turned his head? 

Nevertheless, as a scowl forms on Hizashi’s lips, he can’t bring himself to feel anything in this moment but rage and betrayal. “And you think it was okay for me to lose you instead?”

“You haven’t lost me, I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t,” Hizashi insists. “You weren’t right here, you were dead . You were dead and I didn’t even have a body to bury.”

Shouta’s shoulders tremble, but he makes no sound, no response. So Hizashi keeps going. “I think the worst part of it all was the fact that you were in the same room as me, twice, held conversations with me, twice. And you never even gave me a hint, you never gave me a chance.”

“That’s not entirely true.” 

“What are you talking about?” Hizashi asks, his eyebrows pinching together.

“‘Maybe it won’t matter in the end, but when the truth comes out, I hope you- and everyone that we’ve affected- remember it was necessary.’ I told you that the day I came to UA to check up on Jin, make sure he was doing okay,” Shouta says. “It was a necessary sacrifice, even if you refuse to accept it.”

“So that’s it?” Hizashi can see the darkness closing in on him all over again, starting to swallow him whole. “You’re just going to walk away and pretend that this isn’t ruining everything we built together?”

Shouta looks up from the ground. Though his face is shadowed in the dark, the tremble in his lover's lips is impossible to miss, the pain in his voice as clear as water. “I love you Hizashi, I always have, and I always will. But what’s the point of loving you if I’ll only lose you all over again?”

Hizashi tries to respond, but Shouta doesn’t give him the chance. “I mean, I would lose you a thousand times over if it meant that you got to live just one more day. Every day was a fight for survival, a constant struggle against the desire to be with you again, one way or another. But I had kids to protect. Kids, so many, too many kids, who were forced to fight a losing war. Starving kids, dying kids, dropping like flies every day, every hour, and I can’t do it again, Zashi.” Shouta’s arms come up to hold himself, a blatant attempt to offer himself some form of comfort. His breath stutters, loud in the quiet alley. “I just can’t.”

Hizashi is silent for a moment as he takes in Shouta’s words. There is so much there that has been left unsaid, so many secrets Hizashi can’t reach. That Shouta won’t let him reach. Hizashi reaches out to him, trying to bridge the widening gap between them, even if only for a moment. Just so he can see his husband as he is, just so he can remind himself why. Why he stayed when Shouta hit rock bottom, drinking himself into an early grave. Why, even knowing he could have any person in the world, he chose Shouta. 

Hizashi steps forward and pushes the hood of Shouta’s costume back, finally catching his watery gaze. “You don’t have to,” Hizashi eventually forces out, despite the burn of his own rising tears. “You have the chance to make things right, and if you could just trust me, I could help you get there. You and the kids, you don’t have to fight alone. I’m here, just let me stay with you, place your trust in me one more time, please .” 

Shouta shakes his head, and Hizashi lets his hand fall from where he had been running his thumb over Shouta’s brow. “I do trust you, but I simply cannot afford watching you die without me all over again.”

And when he walks away, Hizashi does not stop him. 

Instead, he draws in a shuddering breath, trying to reign in his emotions. It doesn’t take long for him to crack, sealing his lips together so his scream doesn’t bring down the whole block. When the burning in his throat lessens enough that he’s seventy percent sure he won’t blast the entire block into rubble, he makes his way back to the car, where Tsukauchi waits behind the wheel. 

He slams the door a little harder than necessary and refuses to look anyone in the car in the eyes.

“Zashi? How did it go?” Nemuri asks in the uncomfortable silence. Hizashi barely refrains from snapping, swallowing down the burn rising in his throat once more. 

“Take us back to Mustafu, Tsukauchi,” Hizashi turns his face so he can try and hide behind his hair, staring out the window at the garage that hides the love of his life. “And drop me off at the first bar you see.”

“I don’t think that’s-” Tsukauchi starts to say, but Hizashi meets the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“I will get the fuck out and walk if I have to,” Hizashi says in a low rumble, some of his quirk slipping just enough to add a threatening edge in his voice. “Take me to Mustafu, and then drop me off at a bar, I won’t ask again.”

Tsukauchi clears his throat after a long moment of awkward silence. “Right, will do."

Chapter Text

Inko finds herself standing in front of a bar for the first time in years. 

She’s never been much of a drinker herself, usually preferring a small glass of wine after a long day of work or school rather than getting plastered on cheap American beer. Mitsuki was the only reason Inko ever even stepped foot into a bar, always dragging her to one after a huge success in one of their lives. She thinks the only times they didn’t celebrate something major at a bar or club was her wedding night, because Hisashi had whisked her away to Greece for two months, and the days they found out they were pregnant. 

Standing in front of one now, she only feels defeat, rather than victory.

Naomasa texted her that they- Nemuri, Nezu, Naomasa and Hizashi- were heading back to Mustafu, and that Inko will need to drag Hizashi out of a bar before he does something he’ll regret. She doesn’t know the details of why Hizashi is going to be drowning in alcohol at a bar, but whatever it is it can’t be good. Straightening her scrubs, since she didn’t have time to change after leaving work early, she goes inside. 

Inko ignores the bar patrons drinking and laughing and only looks for familiar blonde hair. It takes a moment, there are a good many people tonight, but she finds Hizashi in the very back of the bar. He’s hunched over his table, his hair is in a knotted mess of a bun, and his shoulders hang heavy as she approaches. Inko settles into the seat across from him, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence first. 

“What do you want Inko?” Hizashi grumbles, almost too quiet to be heard over the noise of the other patrons. 

Inko takes Hizashi in before she answers. For the past few months, Inko has made it her mission to keep her boys and Nemuri from drowning themselves. Whether it be alcohol, as Nemuri's go to destructive habit, or work like it is for Naomasa and Nezu, or wasting away in a bed that feels much too large like Hizashi, Inko won’t let them do it. Her baby boy is out there after all, and it’s these people whose job it is to find him and the other two, Shinso and Aizawa. If she has any hope of seeing her son home safe, she can’t let these four people rot away. 

Inko’s become quite close to Hizashi and the others. 

Hizashi feels like a baby brother, Nemuri, the sister she’s always wanted. Naomasa feels like a kindred spirit, and Nezu, well she isn’t sure what Nezu is to her, but she knows she cares for him. She’s made a second home at UA, making sure the staff knows that someone is there to take care of them when they can’t care for themselves. Grief is hard to move on from, whether it’s grieving over death or someone missing or lost love, it’s all the same. In a way, UA has made it possible for her to stand strong in the wake of her own grief. 

“I’ve come to bring you home of course,” Inko finally replies. Hizashi merely scoffs, knocking back his drink and reaching for the second. There’s three full glasses of whiskey sitting on the table, two more that are empty, including the one he just downed. Inko intercepts Hizashi’s hand, grabbing it with her own and keeping a firm grip. Hizashi only scowls harder.

“I’m not going anywhere, so why don’t you fuck off and leave me be for once?” Hizashi spits out, venom practically flowing like a river from his mouth. Inko tries not to let herself feel the hurt his words have caused. Something happened, and now Zashi is drinking to get rid of whatever pain that something is causing him. 

“What happened, Zashi?” Inko asks gently, not letting go even as Hizashi tries to yank his hand away by force. Hizashi looks at her for the first time since she sat down, stares her in the eyes, and leans down to grab a glass with his teeth. The whiskey is gone in moments, and Inko barely restrains her tired sigh. “I won’t leave until you answer me.”

“My husband is-” Zashi starts to say, after setting down the empty glass, but he chokes on the words and sinks his teeth into his lip, tears slipping down his face. Inko feels cold fear trying to swallow her whole. If Aizawa is… gone then what chance does Izuku have of coming home to her? 

Has she lost her baby a second time?

“Oh Zashi-” Inko starts to say, voice breaking in her effort to remain calm. Hizashi laughs bitterly.

“He’s alive. In fact, they all are.” Hizashi finally frees his hand, grabbing another drink and knocking it back. When he speaks again, his words are slow, slurred, and still quiet in the way his voice gets when he’s barely keeping his quirk at bay. Despite the clear signs that something is wrong with that statement, Inko’s shoulders ease. “They’re all just fine, absolutely perfect.”

“Then why are you here, and not with your Moonlight?” And where is my Izuku? Inko doesn’t voice her unspoken question, but Hizashi seems to hear it anyway. His shoulders seem to get heavier with her question, both spoken and unsaid. 

“Have you heard of the vigilante group called the Snakes?”

Inko’s face scrunches up, and she does know about them, but why that’s relevant she doesn’t know. It’s kind of hard not to know about the Snakes. They’re all the media talks about these days. The Snakes have basically started a revolution, not only in Japan, but around the world. They’re a global phenomenon at this point. Even at work, it’s all about the vigilantes. She’s heard more than one comment from the other doctors and nurses she works with about how strange it is that the Snakes have done so much for Japan and have yet to show up at a hospital for medical treatment. It’s a miracle those boys are even alive at this point, given they’ve never sought out medical help, and if they are, it certainly isn’t from a professional. 

Inko spends her work days treating people with bullet wounds, gashes, broken bones and more due to villain attacks, and privately wondering if maybe one of her patients is one of the vigilantes in question. There’s even a new policy at work. If anyone comes in wearing a mask that matches the vigilante description, they are to stay masked at all times, and reported to the medical board and the police. They are not to be restrained, confronted, ect. due to a possibility of being met with violence. It’s not the hospital’s job to unmask vigilantes, it’s their job to treat their patients and let the heroes and police worry about the rest.

“I have, yes, but what-” 

“It’s them.”

Inko’s confusion only grows. “What do you mean?” 

“Shouta, Shinso and Izuku. It’s them. They are the vigilantes.” Hizashi’s voice slips into a near silent whisper, so quiet, Inko has to lean in and try to read Hizashi’s lips. She thinks maybe she heard wrong because it makes no sense. 

“That doesn’t make any sense, Zashi.”

“Doesn’t it though?” Hizashi grabs another glass, but he just holds it in front of him, staring into the liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. “Each of the vigilantes appeared a month or two after each disappearance. Green, purple and red are their color schemes. And, we just came from a meeting with them, where they took off their masks and hoods and there they were. Your son, Shinso, and my husband, sitting before us in a makeshift base. They chose to leave, Inko. They chose to leave and have refused to come back until their ‘ mission’ is complete.”

Inko sits quietly as she takes in the fact that, if Hizashi was lying, he wouldn’t be here drinking his problems away. 

In a way, it kind of makes sense. Izuku is such a spirited boy, with a strong moral code and the need- not want, need- to be a hero. Izuku probably thinks she doesn’t know, but she knows about his stalking of criminal forums, reporting the crimes being planned anonymously. Inko is not stupid, she noticed her baby sneaking out of the house to go somewhere and she watched as he used a payphone to call in tips to the cops. As long as he was being cautious, Inko never saw the need to do more than follow her son and make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble.

To know he graduated to active vigilantism, Inko can’t say she’s shocked with a straight face.

On top of that, she knows her boy. If he’s too badly injured, he’ll seek help. Due to the bullying, cuts, bruises and burns don’t affect him as much as it would someone else, and the mere thought of it makes her heart break. Not that she can do anything about it, though she suspects Nezu might be planning something of his own. She won’t ask, plausible deniability and all that. Besides, she hopes those damn schools burn for what her Izuku was put through.

And, she has a vague idea about what this ‘mission’ of theirs might entail. 

Izuku, a quirkless boy who has suffered at the hands of nearly every person he has ever come in contact with. Shinso, a boy who was abused in every household he was fostered in. And Shouta, an underground hero who knows the wrongs of the Commission.

Yeah, she isn’t that surprised.

Heart broken, yes, but not surprised. 

“Oh.” 

“That’s it? ‘Oh’?” Hizashi snaps. “They left and all you have to say is ‘oh’!?”

“Well,” Inko muses. “At the very least in Izuku’s case, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“You don’t even know why they left and you’re just going to accept it? Just like that?”

“If I know my son,” And she does, very well. “Then it’s probably something along the lines of changing the world, and they’re doing a very good job at it.”

Hizashi rears back, slamming his glass down and spilling the liquor across the table. Inko very casually scoots her chair a few inches to the right to avoid the spill threatening to stain her scrubs. “How can you be so calm about this!? I’m fucking furious, why aren’t you!?”

“Yamada-Aizawa Hizashi,” Inko says sternly. “Do not yell at me.” Hizashi slumps back against the table with a mumbled apology. 

Inko allows Hizashi a moment to cool his head as she waves the bartender down and orders a drink for herself. They sit quietly as they wait for Inko to receive her drink, and it allows her a moment to truly process. Izuku ran away to become a world renowned vigilante. It should be a strange sentence to think, but she just can’t be surprised. Is she a bad mother for the quiet pride in her chest?

Inko has always had a strange relationship with the Hero Commission. 

As a trauma surgeon and Hero Healer, she doesn’t deal with the HPSC nearly as often as the average hero, but the rumor mill is strong in her circles. She’s heard many stories from her heroic patients over the years. Quiet laments, angry rants, emotionless statements of fact. She’s seen Unders who come in injured enough they have to stay overnight, and they just look her in the eyes and tell her she’s a good doctor, and then disappear in the night when she’s off shift. She’s seen top ten heroes force themselves out of their hospital beds because they ‘have to keep working,’ or the Commission will be displeased. 

It’s one of the main reasons she doesn’t want Izuku to be a hero. 

The Commission is a dangerous entity in the heroic community, and to cross them could be disastrous. Izuku is so spirited, and he has such a strong moral code, he would not stand by and let the Commission keep doing things they aren’t supposed to. She may not have the proof for it herself, but she knows better than to cross the Commission.  And now, she doesn’t even have the chance to try and find allies for her boy for when- when, not if, if there is anyone who could be a quirkless hero it’s her baby- he goes to a hero school and trains to become a hero. Instead, Izuku has run off, donned a mask, and chosen to do everything she knew her boy would do eventually before he’s even made it through his first year of middle school. 

Inko politely thanks the bartender when her drink is set in front of her. 

“It’s not that I’m not angry, Zashi.” Inko takes a sip of her fruity cocktail, not daring to look her friend in the eyes. “I am very angry. I’m sad, and hurt, and I miss my son. The thing is though, you don’t know my Izuku like I do.”

“And what does that mean?” 

“Izuku may be quirkless, but I have known since he was eight years old that he would change the world, one way or another,” Inko explains. “I have seen him take heroes and villains apart with a sharp and critical eye. I have witnessed the twist in his expression whenever anything to do with the Hero Commission comes on the news. I have watched as my excitable, energetic, naive little boy became calculating and strategic. He’s still my happy boy, but he’s not as disillusioned by society as he comes across. Him leaving me to start his own revolution does not surprise me, and by god, I may be angry, but I am also proud.”

Hizashi doesn’t respond for a long moment, just watching her. 

“Does this mean I’m in the wrong then?”

“God no.” Inko sighs and reaches up to untie her hair and tie it back again, if only to give her something to do with her hands that isn’t straining them by tangling them together. “You, Nemuri, me, we all have the right to be upset with those boys for leaving without a word like they did. But in the end, that was their choice, and they have the right to make that choice.”

“Izuku is twelve! He’s a child!”

“He has not been a child for a very long time, Zashi,” Inko’s voice breaks. “And I understand what you’re saying, how you’re feeling, I do. But despite whatever it is you aren’t telling me, the situation is complicated and will always be complicated. Have you even watched the news lately? The world news, not just Japan’s.”

“A little but-”

“Over a hundred and fifty countries in the world, and of them, seventy nine are in the midst of their own revolutions sparked by Secret, Silence, Soldier and Sequence. Almost eighty countries,” Inko explains, shaking her head with a rueful smile. “All because of our boys. I am angry, and I am hurt, and I am also so very, very proud of everything those four have accomplished in less than a year.”

Hizashi groans, laying his head down. Neither of them say anything for a long while, long enough for Inko to finish sipping her drink and for the noise to die down as some of the patrons start leaving for the night. It is almost three in the morning. Work is not going to be fun tomorrow-or she should say today. 

“I am too,” Hizashi mumbles. “I’m proud too, I suppose. I just wish they had trusted us enough to help.”

“They have though,” Inko responds lightly. “They could have left you in the dark about whatever it is they’re trying to do, they have left me in the dark. Instead, you know what they’re doing, why they’re doing it, and because of the media’s obsession with the Snakes, you know their general movements on a day to day basis.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“I’m still angry though. What do I do about that?” Hizashi finally lifts his face from the table enough to look at her, eyes red rimmed from his silent crying. Inko stands up, slinging her purse over her shoulder and taking out enough yen to cover the check and a tip. Then she holds her hand out to Hizashi. 

“Be angry then, but understand they’re doing what they believe is right. Now come on, we’re having a sleepover. Text Nemuri, Nezu and Noamasa to join us at my apartment.” Hizashi takes her hand and doesn’t let go the entire way to her apartment, holding onto her like she’s a lifeline. Nemuri, Nezu and Naomasa are already waiting at her apartment, as well as the sweet boy Touya. 

Inko settles all of them into her tiny apartment as she prepares hot chocolate and tea, allowing Touya to choose a movie from her collection. It may be primarily All Might movies, but she has a few good horrors, romances, and action movies in there too. Inko doesn’t sleep, even as the other four drift off around six in the morning. There’s too much on her mind, and besides, sleeping now would only make her shift worse when she goes in at eight. 

She wonders if Izuku will tell her what’s going on like he told the others.

Chapter Text

Before the raid, Izuku decides to make contact with Mei and Momo’s younger selves. 

Mei is the easy one. He didn’t even have to say three words before she was eagerly agreeing. His pocket is significantly lighter without the wad of cash to pay for her services, even if her babies won’t be used in the end. That all depends on Momo and Eri. Eri is already in progress, but Mo is definitely going to be more difficult to convince. She’s extremely cautious when it comes to her buyers, whereas Mei just wants money and the ability to invent to her heart’s desire. He did have to pay extra when he offhandedly mentioned needing Momo’s services too though. Apparently Mei considers them business rivals, especially since most of the Unders in the area prefer Momo due to her select clientele.

According to the whispers of the underground, Momo’s alter ego is named Ymir, from Ancient Norse Mythology, because Momo is just as much of a mythology nerd as Izuku is. He would have gone with the Shinto goddess of creation, Izanami. Then again that could be a bit too on the nose. 

‘Ymir’ is notoriously hard to track down and even harder to buy services from. Momo- Ymir- only has vigilantes, underground heroes, a few limelighters and people who are hurt by their own quirk as her- their, Momo’s alter ego goes by they/them- clients. If Izuku hadn’t figured out what was going on with Touya and Fuyumi’s quirks, he would have referred Touya to Momo for something to ease the flames. Momo disguises herself with a kabuki mask, a black cloak, and loose black clothes that help hide her figure. From what Izuku has gathered, Momo only works by referral. So if you're not referred by someone with the black card she uses as her ‘contact’ card, then she won’t deal with you. 

Izuku doesn’t have a card, but he does know where she lives. 

After hacking into places like UA, the HPSC, and the occasional police precinct, hacking into the mansion security system is almost laughably easy. Don’t get him wrong, the security is top notch; It just isn’t enough to keep Izuku out when he wants to get in. He waits until the street traffic dies down and the family dinner is concluded before setting the cameras on a twenty minute loop and the motion detection sensors are disabled. 

Izuku hops the wall surrounding the mansion and makes his way to Momo’s window with ease. 

Again, it’s laughably easy to break into Momo’s mansion. There’s a trellis that has grape vines climbing up the wall close to Momo’s window, and while it’s hardly noticeable to most people he’s sure, he can see the almost delicate trail through the vines that Momo uses to sneak out. 

Smart kids with no outlets indeed. 

Izuku climbs up the trellis, using the already arranged path to avoid crushing the grapes that are still surviving through the winter, and eases his way across the bricks to Momo’s window. It’s not visible from the ground, but Momo has meticulously carved out the mortar between the bricks for hand and footholds. 

Clever girl. 

When Izuku makes it to the window, he keeps out of sight to see if she has any company in her room. Servants or guards or parents, doesn’t matter, Izuku won’t expose himself or Momo by getting caught. Momo is, thankfully, alone in her room. She’s sitting at her vanity, slowly combing out her hair in sections, and he can hear her humming a familiar tune. He’s never figured out what song it is she hums to help herself relax, but the sound almost brings tears to his eyes. 

Throughout the war, Momo was his backbone. Kachaan and Shouto were his right and left hand, his first generals in a sense, but Momo was his strategist. The two of them spent long days and longer nights locked away in the war room in Shiketsu, built just for them- until Shiketsu fell and they had to scatter their forces or be wiped out- planning strategic moves against the Nomus and Shigaraki’s army of villains. 

For the first few years, that was where they stayed. Him and Momo and a handful of others, staying behind the frontline where Kacchan and Shouto and Shouta and Hitoshi and so many more were fighting on their commands. They didn’t start taking to the front line themselves until the first mobile unit was wiped out in an ambush. They often fell asleep in the war room, and every time Izuku found himself jerking awake from a nightmare or hearing a sound that set off his paranoia, she was there, humming that song and sending him back to sleep. 

She stopped humming when she had to kill Nomu Kyouka. 

For a minute, Izuku lays his forehead against the brick, despite the strain in his fingertips trying to keep him against the wall, and just listens. The sound is faint with the window closed, but Izuku listens anyway. It takes a lot of effort to swallow down the tears that are rising up his throat, but he does eventually remove one hand from the wall to start sliding the window open quietly. 

He doesn’t even get halfway when the humming stops.

Not one to be deterred, Izuku slides it open all the way in one smooth motion and hauls himself up onto the windowsill. He barely has one foot inside the room before there’s a spear pointing at his face. Momo is scowling at him where she stands in a perfect fighting stance, and as casually as he can, he uses two fingers to slide the blade to his right. Despite the fact that his hood is up, and his goggles and mask are on, he still raises one eyebrow in surprise.

“That’s not a polite way to treat a guest, Yaoyorozu Momo.” 

“Who are you? How did you get past security? What do you want from me- and you better answer correctly or I’m sending you right back out the window.” Momo punctuates her threat by shoving the spear so close to his face he has to lean back just a bit. He catches the windowsill with one hand just in case she makes him lose his balance, and swings his other leg into the room. “Wait, are you-?”

“Secret?” Izuku finishes for her. “Indeed I am. And you are Yaoyorozu Momo, though I'm actually here for your sneakier half, Ymir.”

Momo backs away a step but doesn’t lower her spear. Izuku takes it as the obvious invitation it isn’t and steps fully into the room, sliding the window closed with a quiet click but never turning away from her.  “How do you know that name?” Momo demands, but her voice is quiet. She must not want to alert her staff just yet that there’s an intruder in her room. How sweet.

“Sequence is very good at his job.” Damn straight he is. Uh, not to brag or anything of course.  “I’m here for business, not pleasure though, so can you lower the spear and hear me out?”

Momo purses her lips, and Izuku has just realized exactly how young she is. Which, of course she is, she’s twelve years old, but still. Seeing people he knew in the future-past be so young will never not be a little jarring. Her hair isn’t as long, her face is full with lingering baby fat instead of the sharpness he remembers. She’s only slightly taller than Izuku is; which is saying something, given Izuku is about five foot, and Momo used to be five feet and eleven inches in the future-past. He knows that was her exact height by the time the Jump happened because she used to be annoyed that she was one inch off from six feet. He can’t even remember how many times she would grumble about that fact under her breath.

“Fine,” Momo finally says, and she twirls the spear just a little bit extravagantly before she sets it on the floor, pointy end facing the ceiling. “But if I feel threatened, I will cut you into so many pieces you will regret ever stepping foot in my home.”

“Duly noted.” Izuku gestures over to the vanity she had been sitting at before, and grabs her desk chair to sit in while she takes her vanity stool. Good god, this room is bigger than his entire childhood apartment, and that’s not including the bathroom or the closet. Both of which must be massive too. They take their seats, and Momo lays her spear across her lap in a way that she can easily gain momentum from a quick swipe at him. 

Well. At least she isn’t overly trusting of strange men sneaking into her room in her heavily secured mansion. 

“So, what could the Snakes want that I have, and they can’t get from somewhere else?” Momo asks. Izuku is impressed, she is very good at looking casual while also being prepared to fight at any given moment. He didn’t realize she had that awareness before the USJ incident, maybe he just never noticed because he was too busy shattering his bones.

“My partners and I are fixing to go on a major raid, and there’s something I need, that we can’t make ourselves. Before I get into that though, may I ask one question?” 

Momo narrows her eyes at him in something between confused and suspicious. “You can ask.”

Well, that’s better than a flat out no. “If I were to give you a small sample of DNA and a scientific formula, could you recreate the DNA sequence into the formula artificially?”

Now she is definitely suspicious of him. “It depends on what part of the DNA I’m recreating.” 

“The Plus Alpha gene.”

Momo’s face drops in surprise, then her lips twist as she thinks. She eventually shrugs and says, “I don’t know. I’ve never attempted it. I know I can’t create organic matter. However, I also don’t know if the Plus Alpha gene will count as organic or not, considering the DNA sequence in itself is considered an ‘organic chemical’. Whether my quirk focuses on the organic or the chemical part is up in the air.” 

Yeah he figured. They’d never tried it in the future-past either, and if she can’t do it, then the quirk erasing bullet idea won’t work without a larger sample of DNA from Eri and the good old fashioned scientific process. Which means erasing All For One’s quirk permanently is off the table. 

“Why do you ask?” Momo says when he doesn’t respond. 

Izuku debates on whether he should tell her the rest or not, given it’s not a guarantee in the first place. On one hand, telling her now and having the experiment be a bust means she knows too much with no return for Izuku. On another hand, not telling her now, maybe having her test it out before they get Eri, and then coming back will be too much attention on Momo. Whether she knows it or not, him even being here puts her in danger. Coming here three, even four times, that would shine a spotlight on Momo from whoever may be watching his movements right now. On another hand, walking away and giving up completely will keep her out of danger, but it will mean never knowing if the idea could even work. 

“Can you keep a secret?” Izuku asks. Momo the badass war hero and soldier certainly could, but this is Momo the twelve year old with some less than legal hobbies. 

“I’m a twelve year old with a double life as an underground support item dealer, forger, and medical supplier. I think I can keep a few secrets,” Momo says wryly. Izuku watches her relax, and not the forced relaxation of someone trying to hide how they’re ready for a fight. She even takes the spear off her lap and sets it to the side to lean up against her vanity. 

“Fair enough.” Izuku goes to continue, but his mask’s auditory sensors pick up light footsteps coming in their direction. “We’ve got company.” Izuku quickly slides the desk chair back where it belongs and beelines for the closet. 

“Crap,” Momo whispers loudly. “I forgot, it’s my handmaiden coming to prepare me for bed.” 

Izuku stops in his tracks halfway across the room. “Did you just say handmaiden?”

“Hide you idiot!” She hisses at him and Izuku quickly slips into the closet, sliding the folding door closed just as there’s a knock on the bedroom door. Izuku crouches down and peers through the slats. Momo has re-situated herself at the vanity, hair brush in hand and calmly humming that familiar tune. If it weren’t for knowing Momo for over a decade, he wouldn’t have noticed how the humming is strained and slightly off pitch. The spear is quickly set on the floor by her foot and shoved beneath her, frankly humongous, bed. 

“Miss Yaoyorozu? Are you ready for your bath?” A new voice says, and when she walks into view, Izuku nearly chokes. The woman he’s looking at now is dark skinned, her hair is a vibrant red, and she has small smatterings of scales across her cheeks and arms. 

Her having fish scales is not what makes Izuku nearly choke on his own saliva. 

This woman, this ‘handmaiden’ who looks almost meek as she talks to Momo, was one of the most renowned warriors in Momo’s mobile unit. Izuku doesn’t know what her actual name is, because she only went by the nickname given to her by her unit members, Boudicca. Named after a famous Celtic Queen who led an uprising against the Ancient Roman Empire. She was an absolute beast on the battlefield- both the handmaiden he’s looking at and the actual Boudicca.

Izuku snaps out of his shock when he realizes that Boudicca is heading straight for the closet. 

He sees Momo silently panicking and Izuku instantly moves through the connecting doorway into the bathroom. Izuku sees the light to the closet come on beneath the door, and he hears Boudicca rummaging through a drawer. He almost relaxes, until Boudicca comes toward the bathroom. As light footed as he possibly can be he slips out of the bathroom and back into Momo’s room. She’s making a very threatening motion with her hand when he hears the bath water turned on. 

Staying absolutely still, he doesn’t dare move until he knows which direction Boudicca will move in. 

It’s a few long, tense minutes as Boudicca moves around the bathroom, setting up Momo’s bath for the night, and then he hears her start heading towards the room. Izuku almost dives head first into the closet. The folding door is open, so Izuku slips into the closet and barely has a second to register the massive amounts of clothes, shoes, dresses, and more. There’s separate sections for types of clothes! A section for formal dresses, a section for casual dresses, a section for street clothes like jeans. 

Jesus Christ, he forgot how rich Momo was. 

In his defense though, he’s witnessed Momo eat a slightly expired steak- that was cooked rare because she couldn’t wait for it to finish cooking- with her bare hands, tearing into it like a rabid dog and even snarling at anyone who dared to get close to her food. That was a wild day. She had blood-juices running down her chin and arms, chucks of meat stuck in her teeth. He’ll never forget the way Momo looked when she finished the steak, looking like she just committed a mass homicide and ate the bodies.

Yeah, it's hard to remember how posh and rich someone is when you’re watching them pick chunks of meat out of their teeth with a knife.

Izuku hears Momo and Boudicca move into the bathroom, and then Momo sliding into the water. He creeps just close enough to the door to hear their conversation. “I think I will just relax in the bath a bit Amara-san, you can go ahead and go to bed early tonight.” Ah, so Boudicca is named Amara, a pretty name.

“Are you sure Young Miss?” 

“Yes, thank you.”

“As you wish.” Amara starts to leave and Izuku almost groans out loud when she starts heading his way. Playing high stakes hide and seek is not the best use of his time. He slips out of the closet and then into the bathroom, politely keeping his face to the wall despite having seen Momo naked so many times he knows where her beauty mark on her ass is. Amara, thank god, leaves through the closet, shutting off the light and leaving the room. 

He waits a few minutes to see if she’ll come back unexpectedly, and then slumps to the floor when he’s sure she won’t. “That was the fourth most intense game of hide and seek I’ve ever had.”

“Only the fourth?” Momo asks, sounding unbearably amused. They keep their voices low so their words don’t start echoing and Izuku just sits facing the wall like he’s a child in time out. 

“Don’t ask, I’m still traumatized,” Izuku only half-jokes. To be fair, the other three in the top four most intense games happened either during training at UA, or during the war. Being hunted and forced to go on the run in his second year was the second most intense game of high stakes hide and seek. The third most intense was definitely having to hide from a stealth Nomu with no backup for miles, running on fumes, and desperately trying to stay alive long enough to get to safety or kill the damn thing. The first most intense game of hide and seek Izuku ever had was when Denki accidently spilled soda all over some of Kacchan’s romance manga and blamed it on Izuku. 

Anyways, not the point. 

“Right then, where were we?”

“The reason I’m asking for your services.” Izuku rolls his neck and sighs quietly when his neck cracks. “All I can tell you for your own safety, is that there is a very, very powerful, very, very bad man that my team and I are going after. Silence, Soldier and I are not powerful enough to stop him on our own, and we can only ask for a limited amount of help from the heroes.”

“And the formula?” 

Izuku hesitates and tries to form his words in a way that will convey the seriousness of the situation without giving too much information away. “When I say this man is powerful, I’m talking All Might on steroids kind of powerful. Quirk suppression cuffs or drugs won’t work on him, and no prison can hold him for long. The formula will save us the choice of having to kill him in a suicide mission. That’s about all I can say on the matter.”

Momo is silent for a moment, and all Izuku can hear is the swishing of the water as she moves around. “I don’t know of any super villains on the loose that could match your description, as vague as it was, so how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

He was afraid of that. “Have you seen the news lately, the world news?”

“Yes, but what-?”

“Eighty countries have sparked their own revolutions because of my team and I. We never intended for the media to catch wind of us, but our presence is quite literally changing the world for the better.” Izuku still can’t get over that fact either. Izuku has always dreamed of changing the world, making things better for people in the dirt, people like him. He just never thought it would be done so soon. He was sure that he would have to wait until he was a hero- quirkless or with One For All- to start changing the system around the world. And yet, here he is, a masked thirty year old in a twelve year old body with trauma so bad he could start a TV show. “My team and I are ready and willing to kill the man and die trying, if only to protect from his plans for the future. But in doing so, we will lose the trust of the public, and all the good change that is happening right now will be lost. I can’t let the world slide back into the way it was before, and more importantly, I don't want to die.”

When Momo speaks again, her voice is quiet, sad. “The world has put a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Izuku can’t help but snort out loud. He’s had pressure on his shoulders heavy enough to crush him since the day he ate All Might’s hair. “Do you trust me, Ymir?” Izuku asks. He may be Secret, the vigilante group leader and not Deku, the leader of the rebellion, but if she says no, his heart will break. 

That’s honestly the worst part about time travel. 

All of the people he’s loved and lost and fought beside, they will never know exactly what they mean to him. Even if Izuku manages to rekindle the friendships with his old/future classmates all over again, it won’t be the same. They will never know him the way he knows them, and that’s a good thing, but it makes his heart hurt just thinking about it.

“I think I do,” Momo whispers. “I’ll work with you, but only if you tell me what the formula I’m making will create and why you can’t make it yourself.”

He can work with that. “Deal, but only if you are able to actually make it first. Then we’ll talk.”

“Very well.”

“What is it you want in compensation, Ymir?”

Momo laughs, her voice ringing off the tiled walls. “You’re in my bathroom while I’m in the tub, I think you can call me Momo at this point. As for compensation, I don’t need money.”

“Clearly,” Izuku mutters.

“I deal in information. Secrets. Things of that nature,” Momo explains. “Is there a secret that you’re willing to part with, information you have that I can’t get from someone else?”

Izuku deliberates for a moment. He has plenty of information and secrets, all of them more valuable than she can imagine. Thing is, he can’t exactly tell her those secrets. He could reveal his face, but once their mission is over, he wants to bury Secret in the ground and never look back. Izuku still wishes he had the choice to keep it from Nezu and the others, but that would be impractical, especially since Nezu was bound to figure it out eventually.

Well, there’s plenty of innocuous secrets he has that would blow other people away too. 

As he thinks about what to say, he hears Momo get out of the bath and unplug the drain. He allows her a few minutes to get decent, before standing up and turning around. She’s wearing a red silk pajama set and is currently braiding her hair loosely. Her eyes watch him through the mirror as he steps closer. 

“Well?” She says, tying off the end with a scrunchie and flipping the braid over her shoulder. 

“All Might and David Shield were secret lovers when All Might was in America.” 

Momo actually covers her mouth to muffle the shriek she just let out as she spins around to face him head on. “You’re lying!”

Izuku shrugs, amused despite himself. Little Momo is fucking adorable, he swears to god. “I most certainly am not. Sequence can send you proof later, if that’s what it takes.”

“Oh my god you’re serious.” Momo whispers in disbelief, staring at him with wide eyes. 

Momo gapes at him for a moment before visibly collecting herself back into her professional poise. “Very well then.” Her voice is still slightly high-pitched and she has to clear her throat to talk like she’s not on the edge of hysterical. Her arm glitters as she creates something and hands it to him. “My contact card, use it wisely. I assume you know what to do with it?” 

The little black card is unassuming. A matte finish on most of the card, the number seventy nine in a glossy black on one side. On the other side is a phone number Izuku is sure will be for a burner phone, also in glossy black. And in the top right corners on both sides in a dark gray matte are the Nordic symbol Algiz, meaning protection. It looks like the English letter for ‘Y’ with a vertical straight line in the center. Cute, she has a theme; Not that he can judge of course, he wanted to use mythologies for their vigilante names too, after all. 

“What’s the number mean to you?”

Momo smiles in a teasing way as she leads him back to her room. Izuku shuts off the light of the bathroom as he follows. “Seventy nine countries and counting. Whoever I give a card, I assign them a number I’ll recognize on sight, so I know who has referred the new client. Helps me keep track, and also gives me the chance to know if the card was stolen by watching my previous clients’ movements. Your number is seventy nine for the countries you have helped change so far.”

Izuku tears up a little at the sentiment. “Thank you.” He heads back to the window, sliding it open and swinging one foot out. 

“Call me when you’re ready to test if I can offer you my services.” Momo closes the window when he has a solid grip on the handholds she’s carved, and soon after her light is turned off. Izuku quickly makes his way off the property and resets the alarm and cameras as he leaves. 

Now, to just rescue Eri.

Chapter Text

Shouta, Izuku and Hitoshi are pouring over the building schematics of Overhaul’s base on their makeshift ‘war table’. It’s just two wooden horses with a semi-rotted piece of wood on top, with a large table cloth covering it. What can he say? Their yen goes only to suit maintenance and upgrades, food, and train fare. Everything else is scavenged from abandoned work sites, not abandoned work sites, Dagobah beach, and other abandoned places. 

The building of the original raid, of which they’ve corralled Overhaul’s operation into, has been abandoned for years, with no legal property owners. It got overlooked likely because Overhaul’s men had made the building look presentable like somebody had just bought and renovated it. So the locals likely had no reason to be suspicious. The tunnel system, obviously, does not exist on the schematics, so Izuku and Shouta had to discuss in depth in order to recreate as much of the underground maze as possible. They can’t be entirely positive that it’s accurate, so just in case, Izuku had Hitoshi buy a bunch of red dirt to use to mark their paths. 

They’ve been extremely busy for the past week. 

Not only has Izuku been making the final touches on the raid plan, but he’s also been designing Nemuri a new suit just for the occasion. Shouta still doesn’t like the idea of her being involved, but he will admit, Izuku making her a suit that better protects her has him feeling better about the whole thing. The fact that Izuku made the suit match theirs as much as possible also helps ease his mind, given the fact that being so closely associated with them would put a target on Nemuri’s back. At least with her looking like one of them, there’s no reason for any Yakuza or All For One grunts to go after her on her regular patrols as Pro Hero Midnight. 

Honestly, that part is what sold this plan to Shouta. 

It was a tall order, but Izuku finished it with a few hours to spare. Shouta’s had to physically drag Izuku out of his work station to force him to sleep on the beds they rarely actually get to use. Making sure Izuku didn’t burn himself out in preparations for the raid was its own job, and with Hitoshi being sent to collect parts or buy this or steal that, the job has fallen onto Shouta’s shoulders with an extra weight. He didn’t realize until now just how much Hitoshi helps when it comes to keeping Izuku from drowning in his own plans.

This little war against Overhaul has been infuriatingly time consuming. They only have so much time to get their list complete, and wasting so much of it on Chisaki Kai is messing up Izuku’s schedule. At this point, they should just get rid of the damn thing with how much bullshit keeps messing with it. 

Now, all he needs is for the others to show up so Izuku can debrief his team and they can get started on Phase One. 

Shouta is drawn away from Izuku’s mumbling and marking of the schematics from the sound of people coming down the rope ladder. When Shouta looks up to see their guests, his blood freezes in his veins. Hizashi is assisting Midoriya Inko down the rope ladder. Midoriya Inko is in their base. Midoriya Inko is in their base and no one gave Izuku a heads up.

This… is not going to end well.

“Uh, Izuku?” Hitoshi whispers beside him, and Izuku hums his acknowledgment as he flips through his notebook regarding the original and the new Overhaul raids. Izuku doesn’t look up.

“Izuku, you should really turn around,” Shouta says, barely containing the anger that they would invite someone- even if it’s Inko- into their base without asking permission first. For the first time since the ‘disagreement’ in the alleyway, Shouta stares at his husband and this time he can’t contain the flickering of his quirk. Hizashi at least has the sense to look a little guilty. Shouta ignores the mouthed apology on his husband’s lips as Izuku turns around. 

This is not going to end well.

Inko looks so different from when Shouta last saw her. They’d been hit hard, and as a Hero healer, Inko was on the scene of the aftermath, tending to the wounded. Her face was gaunt from lack of proper food, though was only just starting to show it since it was still early in the war. Her hair had been shorn close to her head, and Shouta was working right alongside her, Eri and Chiyo to help as much as he could. He’d just lost his leg at the time, and getting around was still more of a hassle than it could’ve been, had they had access to proper treatments and prosthetics. 

Inko had stood, hardened eyes and steady hands, working on another hero as Shouta bandaged her shoulder. She’d gotten hit by some shrapnel from the last minutes of the fight. Shouta had more respect for her in that moment than he ever had for anyone else, even Nezu. Even while basically bleeding out, she refused to stop working until that hero, whoever they were, was stable. He didn’t see much of her after that, given he had orders from Deku to organize a counter strike, but he knows she lasted a good handful of years after that day. 

“Hi baby,” Inko says, her smile wobbling and tears gathering in her eyes. Eyes locked on to Izuku like he’s the only one in the base.

Izuku stands frozen, face pale, when Shouta turns to look at him. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as Izuku bolts down the ramp. Likely heading to the safe space, far back in the back of the second floor. “Hitoshi,” Shouta snaps, the moment Izuku takes off. Without needing any more prompting, his son takes off after his Problem Child, and Shouta has to step in between Inko and the ramp to keep her from giving chase. 

It’s a long, tense moment as he and Inko stare each other down. 

“No,” is all that Shouta says to her when their eyes meet. Shouta’s eyes shift to Hizashi, Naomasa, and Nemuri who stand looking properly guilty behind Inko. “How much did you tell her?”

Hizashi coughs into his fist and avoids Shouta’s eyes. Given the near rhythmic lift and thump of his braided hair against his back, he can only imagine how much his eyes are flickering with his quirk right now. Shouta has to forcibly put a lid on his quirk in order to make Hizashi start talking. Can’t talk if he has no voice, and Shouta needs answers. Now. 

“Only your identities. She doesn’t know anything else, I’m sorry.” Hizashi’s voice may be a near whisper, but the words seem to echo in Shouta’s ears. He takes a long, slow breath in as he tries to calm his protective anger. 

“Midoriya-san, why don’t you take a seat, over there on the couch?” Shouta eventually manages to say without letting his tone betray his emotions. To her credit, Inko merely hesitates a moment, looking between Shouta and their guests, before she walks back over towards the couch. 

Shouta closes the distance so he doesn’t have to shout to be heard. “Let me make one thing clear. This is what Izuku meant by a breach of trust.”

“Sho-” 

“Be quiet!” Shouta hisses, cutting his Sunshine off. God, he can barely stand to look at his husband right now. “What part of everyone died do you three seem to miscomprehend? You just forced my Problem Child to face a woman he loves who has been dead for years, with no warning, no permission, and no tact.”

“She deserves to-” Naomasa starts to say in defense, but Shouta cuts his eyes at him and the words die in the same breath. 

“I don’t disagree, don’t get me wrong.” Shouta has to take another deep breath to stay calm. “If I can have you, then Izuku should be able to have his mother, but that was not your choice to make. He is probably down there, either shutting down or having a panic attack, and because of you three I can’t be there for him. It’s clear to me that I can’t trust you up here alone, and trust that you won’t go looking for things that you don’t need to know.”

“You can still-” Nemuri starts to say. Shouta doesn’t let her finish the thought. 

“You three are going to sit on the couch, be quiet, and behave. As for Inko, if she so much as thinks of moving towards Deku when he isn’t ready for it, we will make good on Izuku’s threat and we will be gone when Eri is safe.” Shouta chances a glance towards the ramp, but there’s no green or purple hair. Must be a bad one. Izuku usually gets over his panic attacks within minutes, if only because he had no choice. “We still have a job to do Midnight, and if we didn’t? If we didn’t need you so badly right now? You would not like the outcome.”

Hitoshi comes running around the bend of the ramp, beelining for Shouta. 

Shouta steps away from his three idiots to face his son, giving them one last glare to prompt them towards the couch. They go hesitantly, and he can see the slouch in his Sunshine’s shoulders at the coldness in Shouta’s glare. Good, serves them right. How dare they think that just because they allowed them to know what’s going on with the whole time travel situation, they can, what, tell whoever they want? Come and go as they please? Not a fucking chance. 

This is Izuku’s show to run, just because he is physically a twelve year old does not mean this is no longer his team the moment they introduce the Rat and a few other adults.

“Status report?” Shouta asks the moment Hitoshi is close enough to whisper. Hitoshi’s face remains impassive, but Shouta can see the blatant worry in the way his mouth thins almost imperceptibly. 

“Not good, but he’s not panicking anymore,” Hitoshi whispers back. “He’s taking a moment to collect himself and grab Midnight’s new gear for the mission. Be prepared for a full on breakdown after the raid though, I only just managed to keep him from shutting down.”

“We’ll deal with it when we get there, I suppose.” Shouta runs a hand over his braid, catching it in his hand as his quirk tries to activate again. God, of all the idiotic things they could have done with the information of who they are, they just had to choose to unwittingly torment Izuku. 

“Is he gonna be alright?” Hitoshi asks, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip for just a moment before releasing it. God he hates when he does that, because Eijiro tends to copy other people, and Eijiro’s teeth will tear his lips up when he does it. Then again, Eijiro isn’t here right now, so it’s not like Shouta can get onto him for it. 

Shouta blows out a long, slow breath as he peers behind Hitoshi and catches sight of green hair making its way around the bend. “He’ll be okay, he has us after all.” 

Izuku doesn’t waste time. The moment he gets into range, he beelines for Nemuri and shoves the box he’s holding into her hand. Shouta doesn’t miss the adamant refusal to look at Inko. He’s going to have to address that at some point, isn’t he? God, he regrets not expelling the hellions on day one. 

“Put this on, I need to check for last minute adjustments,” Izuku demands. “You can use any of the bed spaces over there for privacy if you need it.”

Nemuri, with a glance at Shouta who stares her down emotionlessly, does as asked. Izuku turns on his heel and approaches the makeshift war table once more, shuffling around papers and flipping through his notebook to look busy. Shouta can tell he isn’t really seeing anything by the distant look in his eyes, so Shouta makes his way over to lean in close. 

“Mission comes first,” Shouta mutters just loud enough for Izuku to hear. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging the avoidance of his issues, but they only have so much time before they need to go and rescue Eri. He’ll deal with the aftermath, he always does. That’s part of his job description as Izuku’s right hand man, now that Shouto and Katsuki aren’t here to take over. Or Momo, or at least, the Momo before they lost Kyouka. Mo was pretty good at keeping Izuku’s head on straight too, once upon a time. 

Izuku sucks in a ragged breath and gives a single sharp nod before his eyes clear and focus. 

Nemuri soon exits the bed space, Shouta’s bedspace, and makes her way across the garage to stand in front of Izuku. God, what Shouta would not give to be able to collapse into the semi-comfortable bed and just sleep for a few days. Izuku picks up a travel notebook, the one he keeps on him at all times, and jumps right into the Deku mindset. 

“Alright, I’m going to tell you to move certain ways while I observe. I need to make sure there’s no pulling, discomfort, or unneeded exposure. This is the prototype for your new costume, and right now it looks more like ours so you blend in. The final product will be more of Midnight’s theme than the Snakes, but we need you to look like one of us for now. Any questions before we begin?” Izuku says, almost in a single breath. 

Nemuri frowns. “I don’t need a new costume. I mean, I get why I have this one, so you don’t put a target on my back, but my hero costume works fine.”

Izuku just kind of stares her down for a second, barely blinking. “Your hero costume offers no protection from heat, cold, water, fire, knives or bullets. In fact, it’s so useless that I, someone who does not have a quirk to sharpen my nails, can slash through it in one swipe with enough force in the right direction. You continuously rip holes in your costume in order to release your quirk, which I can understand the need for, except there are other ways to provide both protection and not need to be ripped every time you need your quirk.”

“I still don’t think an entire new costume is necessary, kiddo,” Nemuri says, and Shouta refrains from scowling at her. 

“Let’s put it this way.” Izuku goes as far as to close the travel notebook and focus entirely on her. “You were the first to go. While some of that was because you’re a stubborn bitch who hates asking for help, some of it is also because your costume offers no protection whatsoever. Killing you is so easy I could do it blind, deaf and with one arm tied behind my back. Quit protesting my generous offer to keep you alive, and let me check the suit already.”

Nemuri’s face contorts in a cross between offended and resigned before she silently does as asked. As Izuku instructs her to lift her arms in various ways, bend her body, raise her legs, Shouta admires Izuku’s craftsmanship. The suit is fully black, with pale blue stripes like Shouta’s and the boys’. The main difference he can see at first glance is that her outfit is a one piece bodysuit, and very form fitting. 

“Why blue?” Shouta can’t help but ask. Izuku pauses mid sentence to answer.

“Because purple was taken, and white is both too bright for an underground outfit, and also associated, for some reason, with Sequence. The blue is just a shade or two off from the blueish purple of her hero costume’s stockings. Anyways-” Izuku continues instructing Nemuri to move around certain ways, taking notes and occasionally pinching the fabric between his fingers. Out of curiosity, Shouta moves closer, trying to see if she has the same metal segments in hers like they do. If she does have them, it’s not obvious, though neither is theirs. Izuku notices him getting closer and reaches over to the war table to hand him the bigger notebook, turned to the page for Nemuri’s costume. 

From the design, the metal pieces were placed more strategically than theirs. 

There’s two big pieces on the back that are unconnected, one directly in between the shoulder blades, and one at the small of her back, leaving a small chink in the armor between them. In the front, it’s the same way, one on her collar, right over her heart, and stopping just before the curve of her chest. The other two are directly underneath her chest and across her abdomen, disconnected in the center right under the rib cage to allow for more ease of movement. Her thighs and upper arms are the only parts of her arms and legs that have the metal plating. 

Compared to Shouta’s, her outfit is a lot less protective, but it’s still leagues more than she had in her hero costume. She doesn’t have all the fancy add ons like Shouta has, such as the heating and cooling system, or the many, many pockets. Her outfit has two deep pockets on her thighs and that’s it. 

“Okay, I have what I need. Now for the accessories.” Izuku hands her a pair of goggles and a mask that matches theirs with the same blue accent colors of her costume. If Shouta looks closely, the mask looks more like Persona Cords Original than the updated version they have. He must not have had time to give her the full version. “Given the time frame, I wasn’t able to whip up the same amount of gadgets as we have, but you’ll also, hopefully, not be engaged in as much combat as we will.”

Given the suit is a one piece bodysuit, the belt Izuku hands her has thigh straps as well to keep the belt in place. There’s a hook on the side for her whip, since she doesn’t know how to use the Gauntlets like they do, but can wield a whip with deadly accuracy. She has only two sets of knives, one pair on her outer thigh in the attached magnetic holsters, another set on her lower back, to the side and away from her spinal cord. Izuku hands her a taser and a gun to be placed in her boots, which raise higher than Shouta’s boots. “The gun is loaded, safety on, for emergencies only. Taser goes in the left, gun on the right.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with a loaded gun on me.” Nemuri looks vaguely nauseous as she says this. 

“Too bad, you’re getting a gun, just in case,” Izuku says. “Just because you’ll be in a support position while with us, does not mean I’m sending you in there without an emergency exit strategy. The gun is your emergency exit strategy. Deal with it and move on.”

Nemuri pinches the gun in between her thumb and pointer finger and cautiously straps it into her boots. She’s being a bit dramatic, it’s just a gun. As long as Shouta has a say, she won’t ever need to use it anyways. None of them have needed to use their guns just yet either.

“Right, now that you’re suited up, one last order of business before I debrief you and we move out. You need a new code name to match with ours. Any ideas?”

“Ooh, how about Slumber?” Nemuri says enthusiastically, looking a lot more animated at the prospect of choosing her ‘vigilante’ code name. She always did love helping the first years choose their first and most times only hero name. 

“Vetoed.” Izuku responds. “Too closely related to your quirk, and before you try it, Somnambulist is also vetoed for the exact same reason.”

“Aww man.” Nemuri whines. 

“How about Salem?” Hitoshi pipes up from over by the couch. Apparently he had decided turning on the news while Hizashi, Naomasa and Inko sit awkwardly beside him on the couch was better than watching Nemuri’s costume fitting. 

“Why Salem? Where did that come from?” Izuku asks. 

“Somnambulist, the ability to put people to sleep. People are usually asleep by midnight, Hero name Midnight. Midnight is also considered the witching hour, which led me to witches, which led me to the Salem Witch trials. Ergo, Salem,” Hitoshi explains casually, still watching the news intently. 

“Oh sure, come up with a name for Kayama in minutes, but for yourself? No, you had to spend an entire month debating it!” Izuku throws his tiny notebook at Hitoshi’s head, and Toshi only just manages to catch it, catching it by a handful of pages that are now half ripped out. Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Oi! You had just as much trouble choosing your name as I did, quit throwing things at me!” Hitoshi yells, throwing the notebook right back and having it land pitifully at Izuku’s feet. Izuku gasps in outrage. 

“Don’t throw my notebooks!”

“You threw it first!” 

“I’m gonna throw you-”

Shouta, already tired of this little argument of theirs, places his fingers in his mouth and whistles, loud, long and sharp. Both boys wince at the sound and turn sheepishly towards Shouta. He gives them both the deadest stare he can manage. “We have guests, quit acting like children.”

“We are children though!” Hitoshi retorts with a cat-like grin. Shouta activates his quirk, making Hitoshi pout at the loss of his voice. 

“Ooh, you got in trouble!” Izuku drawls. He’s grinning now too, and that’s the only reason Shouta won’t tie them both up in the Gauntlet strips and leave them trapped on the floor. He can always count on Hitoshi for bringing Izuku out of his shut down mode. Shouta does, however, turn his glare onto Izuku despite knowing it won’t do shit to him without One For All in the brat’s veins. 

“You’re just cranky cause your Sunshine is ten feet away and you can’t do shit with everyone here.” Hitoshi says the moment Izuku turns a sheepish smile in Shouta’s direction. He snaps his eyes back at Hitoshi, who’s already rounded the table with the TV and taking a chance to slip past Shouta. Sucks for him, Shouta has two legs, two eyes, and he’s in the prime of his life. 

Shouta tackles the brat onto the sparring mats, taking them both to the ground. 

“What was that you little heathen?” Shouta grins as he wrestles Hitoshi into a headlock. Hitoshi, to the kid’s credit, is making that very difficult for him. He digs his knuckles into Hitoshi’s scalp in the way he hates. 

“Ack! Get off of me old man!”

“What was that? This ‘old man’ can’t hear you! Maybe I need to get through all this hair first!” Shouta cackles, purposely messing up the braid Hitoshi spent twenty minutes on. 

“No, stop! Oh my god, you’re such an asshole!” Hitoshi whines as he futilely tries to buck Shouta off of him. Thing is, Shouta is twice his weight, taller, and again, in the prime of his life. That’s the best thing about time travel honestly. No more aches, no more pains, no more disgusting constant cracking and creaking of the joints. It has been a long time since he had gone this long without needing someone to massage his hands to try and ease the stiffness in the tiny bones. 

“Takes one to know one, Demon Child!”

Hitoshi manages to twist his head enough to grin up at him. “Is that a promotion from Menace?”

“No you got promoted to Abomination remember?” Izuku calls over to them. He’s back to standing at the war table, watching with the faintest amusement on his lips. 

“Nice!” Hitoshi cackles, even as Shouta redoubles in his efforts to take him down a peg and mess his hair up even more. He’ll probably have to help Toshi get out all the tangles after this, but it’s totally worth it. “This job really does offer high chances of advancement! Now-ack, quit! Now if only the pay could match!”

“I’m gonna wipe that smirk off your face, you abomination!” Shouta pins Toshi down face first and makes him eat the mat.

“Oof, just got demoted!” Izuku yells. 

“Quit encouraging him!” Hitoshi screeches, one of his flailing arms catching him in the ribs hard enough to make him loosen his hold. Hitoshi manages to squirm out from under him like a particularly slippery snake- joke unintended. 

Shouta is preparing to tackle the kid back to the ground when a new weight lands directly onto his back, sending him sprawling face first back onto the mat. Shouta has just enough time to send Izuku a betrayed look over his shoulder before Hitoshi launches at them with a war cry. It takes some maneuvering, some flexibility he hasn’t had in almost two decades, and something that probably constitutes as a war crime before he manages to get both brats underneath him. Hitoshi is pinned at the bottom, face down, Izuku on top of him, also face down, with Shouta sitting proudly on Izuku’s back. He’s got one of Hitoshi’s feet bent upwards, locking Izuku’s legs open so he can’t get leverage to kick, and Izuku’s right arm wrapped around Toshi’s head in a pseudo headlock. 

Shouta cackles as the boys struggle beneath him, feeling distinctly like a wild west bull rider as he tries to keep on top of the two not-children beneath him. “It’s gonna take at least a few more years before you two can take me down!”

“This is child abuse!” Hitoshi groans. 

“This is victory!”

“Okay,” Izuku says breathlessly, finally slumping onto Hitoshi who groans even more as his head is squished to the mat. “Okay, we should really get to the debrief now.”

“Toshi, do you yield?” Shouta asks, squeezing the kid’s ankle lightly. 

“Yes, fuck, get the hell off me!”

Shouta releases the boys and stands up, cracking his knuckles as Izuku flops onto his back beside Hitoshi. Izuku gets up quickly, while Hitoshi stays face first on the floor, and Shouta rolls his eyes and he nudges his son with what used to be his missing foot. 

"Come on brat, you heard the boss, time to get up." Hitoshi turns to lay on his back and raises his arms in the air, making grabbing hands. "I'm not picking you up."

"I'm a child!" Hitoshi whines. "Children get piggyback rides. I want a piggyback ride!"

Heaving a long suffering sigh, Shouta drags Hitoshi to his feet so he can give his menace of a son a stupid piggy back ride. "Happy now?" Shouta asks as he situates Hitoshi on his back. 

"Thanks Dad," Hitoshi mumbles in his ear. "It's nice being a kid again.

"Thanks for getting him out of his head," Shouta responds, just as quietly.

"That's my job." Shouta smothers his smile as they meet Izuku back at the war table. Time to be an adult again it seems. 

Chapter Text

Hitoshi, for what it’s worth, doesn't like his role in Phase One.

Why does it always have to be him being the bait, huh? Like seriously, Hitoshi can’t even count the amount of times he had been used as Nomu bait in the future-past. This one time, Hitoshi hadn’t even known he was the bait! The mobile unit Hitoshi headed had used him as bait to lure a High-End into a trap so they could take it in for testing, and no one bothered to tell Hitoshi. 

He’d nearly pissed himself trying to get away from the damn thing.

Took him thirty fucking minutes too. 

Of course, Hitoshi had gotten them back for it, but still. Not cool, man. God he misses his old team. They had worked together for six years and every moment spent with those assholes was a memory. Not always a good memory, like the time Aramaki Juri got pinned underneath rubble during a big clash with some Nomu, and Hitoshi didn’t have the time to get the rubble off. He’d had to borrow her knife and cut her arm off just below the elbow joint, carry her unconscious body to safety while heavily injured himself, and then deal with the wound before she bled out. Not the most pleasant of times. 

Even still, the twenty four people who were under his direct command were his family, and each of their losses ruined him. 

That’s the thing about being a leader. The moment you lose someone under your command, everything is different. You eat, sleep, train, fight, and kill beside these people day in and day out. You share secrets, you learn the little nuances of their personality, you learn to read them so well you don’t need to look at them to know what’s going through their head. And then you lose one, and the entire group suffers as they try to fill the hole you can’t afford to fill. 

And then you lose another and the hole gets wider. 

Hitoshi has checked in on his old team over the past six months, watching them live their lives from a distance. Unaware that Hitoshi is right there, knowing their thoughts like he can read them, willing to put himself on the line for them like he did once upon a time. Juri is still in elementary schooling, the youngest of his old team, and the only one who wanted to be a hero before the war. He wonders if she will become a hero like she had wanted to before she was forced into the role of a soldier. He’ll be in his first year in the field as a hero when she starts her first year at UA. The rest of them are adults with jobs, college kids, or in the high school of their choice right now. 

Hitoshi stifles his flinch as Izuku’s voice filters into his mask. 

“Silence. Are you in position?” Izuku says. Hitoshi scowls as he stares down at the unassuming building they’re fixing to raid from his place on top of the office building across the street. 

“Remind me why I have to be the bait again?” Hitoshi asks, despite already knowing the answer like the back of his hand. 

“You’re the only one who has the quirk needed to draw them all out of the building for an ambush, we’ve been over this. Quit whining and prepare for my signal.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever,” Hitoshi mumbles into the comms unhappily. Again, he hates being the bait. 

The plan is as detailed as it can be when they’re working on outdated (pre-dated?) information. Phase One is flushing out the rats. Hitoshi will be the distraction, drawing the weaker thugs standing guard out of the building and into an ambush. It has to be done delicately. Overhaul has a security system in place, and they can’t trip the alarms or show up on the cameras until they’re already into the tunnels. Which means Hitoshi needs to draw all of the thugs above ground outside at once, making sure none slip past him to sound the alarm and warn Ovrhaul.

If Overhaul learns too soon that they’re coming, he can easily slip out of the half a dozen exits with Eri in tow and they’ll have to start from scratch. 

Hitoshi’s job is to ensnare the thugs with his quirk, planting a subliminal message to come after them and leave the alarm unsounded. He’ll have to pay special attention to anyone with a stronger mind because of it, making sure they follow the message rather than doing the exact opposite. The thing with his subliminal messages is that it isn’t a command. 

With commands, the victim has no choice but to obey, their body moving against their will to do what Hitoshi wants them to do. However, commands are noticeable, the victim will remember the lack of control they have and will be able to recall it afterwards. While yes, they have Nezu and Tsukauchi on their side now, and they know his quirk is Brainwashing, that doesn’t mean that whoever has jurisdiction over the Overhaul case won’t be able to interrogate the thugs and learn that, hey, Silence can control people. Silence has a mind control quirk. They don’t want that, especially given the social stigma surrounding his type of quirk. 

If the public were to learn about Silence’s quirk, it could have negative effects on Izuku’s work as Sequence because some of that inherent trust and curiosity from the public will be lost. In time, that loss of trust will affect everything the ‘Snakes’ do, painting their work in a bad light. Sequence will slowly lose credibility, Silence will lose the trust of the public while simultaneously becoming more feared by the villains, and Secret and Soldier will be placed under intense scrutiny. And if word got out about Dad having an erasure quirk, or, god forbid, Izuku’s quirklessness? That’s just a disaster in the making.

It doesn’t help that the Overhaul raid will likely be big news by the morning. 

So giving the thugs direct orders is a no go. Thankfully, subliminal messages don’t work that way. Subliminal messages play on the person’s already present desires, no matter how buried or weak they are, and make those desires more known. For the raid, Hitoshi will be playing on the desire that no one wants to incur Overhaul’s wrath, and highlighting the fact that waking him up or interrupting his experiments will do just that. He’ll have to make sure to bury the logic that Overhaul will be even more pissed off if no one informs him promptly that they’re under attack, but that’s kind of a given. 

Right now, Dad is getting into position for the ambush.

Since Hitoshi will be the bait, Dad’s going to be the one to knock everyone unconscious the moment the thugs come outside in full force. Since the ambush is set up to happen in the front lawn, and not inside the building, Midnight-or rather, Salem- can’t use her quirk. Well she could, but because they’re outside and not in an enclosed space, there is always the threat of her quirk’s smoke becoming too thin to properly incapacitate everyone at once. Besides, Salem has to be kept out of sight from the majority to better hide her involvement with the Snakes. Just because she’s well disguised, doesn’t mean Izuku is willing to risk it when they don’t need to. 

Her and Izuku will be making their way inside the building in secret to prepare for Phase Two. 

“In position,” Dad says over the comms. “Whenever you’re ready, Secret.”

“Salem and I are in position as well. On my mark Silence.” 

Recalibrating his mask so it’s set on Overhaul’s voice, he lets his Gauntlet strips fall loose, making his way to the edge of the office building. Hitoshi makes quick work of silently descending to the alleyway. Reeling the strips back in, Hitoshi crouches into a sprint ready position, his lockpick set grasped tightly in his hand. Hitoshi practiced for a week on speed-lock picking, just for this moment. He holds that position for a good few minutes, muscles tense and waiting for Izuku’s go ahead. 

“Alright,” Izuku finally says. “Remember, five minutes. In, out, ambush, in. Your targets need to be neutralized and you need to be in the building before the five minutes are up. Final count is fifteen.”

Fifteen targets shouldn't be too bad. Hitoshi has five minutes from the moment Izuku cuts the video feed and alarms. Five minutes to walk in, snag his fifteen targets, draw them out, and help Dad knock them out. Five minutes to zip tie hands and feet, gag them, and get back inside the building. Five minutes. Hitoshi can work with five minutes.

“Roger that,” Dad says, and from his position, Hitoshi can barely spot the shift in the shadows next to the wall surrounding the compound. He’s waiting just inside of the blind spot, ready to pounce. 

“Let’s get this over with.” 

Izuku starts the countdown, the numbers ringing in Hitoshi’s ear as he shifts his feet. When Zuku hits zero, Hitoshi takes off, heading straight to Dad. Without pausing, Hitoshi plants a foot on Dad’s back and uses the momentum of the jump to clear the wall without issue. He only slows down as he gets to the door, and then he crouches to start picking the lock. Izuku has the automated timer going through their comms, and each second spent makes Hitoshi’s heart beat faster, harder, louder. 

He gets the lock done quickly, and he steps inside, narrowing his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light. 

Without hesitation, Hitoshi speaks, using Overhaul’s voice. “What do you think you’re doing!?” 

Sudden shouts of response sound off. One, five, twelve, fourteen, fourteen, where’s the last one? Hitoshi has a split second to send the subliminal message out, trying to follow the strings and see what person hasn’t responded. Follow me, Hitoshi enforces through the mental links, adding on the don’t piss off Overhaul desire afterwards. His eyes catch on to the one guy who doesn’t immediately react to Hitoshi’s message. 

Fuck fuck fuck.  

He has no time to worry about it as fourteen people start charging him and he turns around and sprints for the walls. He stops just before he can face plant the wall, making a sharp left and winces as the sound of someone smacking into the concrete follows right after. Hitoshi wastes no time in rounding on the thugs, cutting them off from the building and launching a kick at one of their heads. Right as the first one goes down, Dad leaps off the wall he had been perched on, landing on two more and sending them into the ground. 

Hitoshi throws out two Gauntlet strips, wrapping around two more thugs and smashing their heads together. They go out easily, collapsing to the ground. Hitoshi jumps into the air, reeling the Gauntlets in but not unwrapping them from his victims, sending him flying towards the group of thugs scrambling to find their bearings. He lands on top of another thug, and he grunts as they hit the ground. Before the thug can react, Hitoshi bounces his head off the ground twice, knocking him out and likely giving the guy a concussion before he pushes backwards into a back handspring. 

As he comes out of the handspring, he latches his legs around a girl thug and twists. The movement sends her sprawling onto her back and knocking the air from her lungs, Hitoshi landing on top of her in a backwards straddle. He reaches back, grabs her by the hair, and slams her head into the ground, hard. Hitoshi is tackled by another girl thug (thugette?), and he can’t get any leverage when two hands wrap around his throat, lips curled back in a sharp toothed snarl. He scrambles at the grip, trying to claw her hands off so he can breathe. He chokes as black spots start appearing in his vision, struggling against the thugette, unable to get away or breathe, fuck he can't breathe-!

Suddenly a loud thunk rings in his ears and her weight topples to the side, allowing Hitoshi to draw in a harsh breath past his bruised throat. 

Dad re-straps the metal first aid kit into his pants pocket with one hand, the other helping Hitoshi up.

Hitoshi doesn’t take the moment to regain his breath, coughing as he leans down, draws out his pile of zip ties and starts securing the hands of feet of the thugs. He counts as he goes, aware they’re running into the final two minutes. One, five, twelve, fifteen. Fifteen? How the hell did he still get all fifteen thugs?

Know what? He’s not gonna question it, thank you Lady Luck.

The moment the last thug is bound and gagged, he and Dad make a mad dash for the door to the compound. They get inside with ten seconds to spare on the countdown, meeting up with Aunt Nem and Izuku. Dad puts a hand on Hitoshi’s back as he leans down and tries to ignore the incessant throb around his throat as he tries to catch his breath. That’s gonna leave a nasty mark. Looks like he'll be trapped in his Silence suit if he wants to leave the base. It's not exactly a good idea to walk around with bruises across his neck. “You okay kid?”

“I’m-” He coughs, resisting the urge to remove his mask and wipe at his mouth. His poor voice sounds awful, and not just because he’s still using Overhaul’s voice in his mask. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good job you two.” Zuku mutters, preoccupied with the tablet in his hands. Hitoshi, Dad and Aunt Nem stand around silently and awkwardly as Izuku finishes doing whatever the hell he’s doing. After a minute, Izuku slips the tablet into the small bag he’s got sitting beside him on the floor and then pulls out four large pouches. “Here are your red dirt pouches, strap them to your lower backs.”

Hitoshi does as told, strapping the pouch in place, connecting it to his belt like it’s designed to do. Dad helps Aunt Nem do the same. The four of them move as one towards the hallway that holds the secret entrance. Izuku takes the lead, Dad and Aunt Nem on his right and left flanks, while Hitoshi hangs back and spreads the red dirt sporadically. 

Time for Phase Two.

Chapter Text

Nemuri follows Secret with trepidation. 

Phase Two relies heavily on Nemuri. The plan is to get into the tunnels, and allow Nemuri to fill the tunnels with her quirk. They’ll allow a three minute window from the start of Phase Two before making an entrance, in order to be sure most of the thugs underground have been knocked unconscious. After the three minute window, it’s a basic building search. 

They will clear every single room, and make sure each thug or ‘scientist’ is restrained, hand and feet, with zip ties, and gagged so they can’t call for help or raise the alarm if they happen to wake up early. Ideally, Phase Two is where they get to the little girl, Eri, where she will hopefully be unconscious from Nemuri’s quirk and still in her room. In an ideal situation, Nemuri won’t face any combat, and the four of them will only have to deal with a handful of people. If they find Eri in Phase Two, it’s Nemuri’s job to get her out of there and take her straight to the base, no exceptions.

If not, then onto Phase Three. 

It’s weird, working with the Snakes in this capacity. Not only because she now knows the faces behind the masks-one of them personally, another vicariously through Inko, her new best friend- but also because they’re, well, the Snakes . In the span of six months, these three have managed to turn the entire world on its head. Almost eighty countries have started their own revolutions, some with more conflict than others. The Commission is facing a lot of public backlash from the - still unmasked- Sequence’s posts on every social media platform there is. Not to mention the ripples in the hero community alone. 

Heroes are being held to a higher standard across the board.

More heroes than she would have imagined have resigned or had their licenses taken away due to past transgressions that were never explored. The Commission has, reluctantly, started holding heroes accountable for every instance of law breaking in their careers. Even Nemuri is facing legal repercussions due to an incident that happened five years ago where she lost her temper and punched another hero for making lewd comments to her. Not bad enough that she’ll lose her license, but still. 

She wonders if they even realize the impact they're making.

Shouta has never really cared about his ‘impact’, shying away from any form of attention like it’s the plague. He doesn’t even like being congratulated by trusted colleagues. Hell, even Hizashi has a hard time making Shouta accept praise for his accomplishments. She gets the feeling the only ones fully aware of what’s happening outside of their little group are Secret and Sequence, because Silence gives off the same ‘don’t care’ attitude Shouta does. 

Again, working with and watching them work is weird. 

Not only is watching Shouta act so childish incredibly strange, but the ease in which they all flip from childish and playful to serious business is concerning, to say the least. If what they say about this terrible war that hasn’t happened yet is true, then she can only imagine what it must have done to them to make them take time to be so playful in between working with a single minded focus like that. All she knows is that the look in their eyes as they talked about it was enough for her to believe them. They have that haunted and empty look in their eyes she’s only ever seen in seasoned pros who got to retire out of the field. Which is few and far between enough as it is.

Nemuri and the boys work in absolute silence, clearing every room as they go.

It takes an unnerving amount of time for them to work through the building, and since she hasn’t used her quirk yet, they have to physically knock whoever is up and about unconscious. They haven’t even made it to the tunnels yet, and the time ticks by agonizingly slowly. Secret- she’s a bit too wound up right now to call them by name, even in the quiet of her own mind- has a second timer set up in their masks, ticking away the allotted time of ten minutes. That’s all the time Secret is allowing for them to clear the above ground floor before heading back towards the tunnel entrance.

It makes time simultaneously crawl and speed by like a bullet.

All in all, she hasn’t lifted a finger to help just yet. Not for lack of trying, but every time she steps forward to try and do something to assist in the quick and quiet takedowns, Shouta either levels a glare at her, or bodily shoves her back. It’s frustrating and confusing at the same time. Why ask her for her help if they won’t let her help? 

If she thinks about it, she can come up with a few reasons. 

Much like the reasoning for the vigilante costume and new vigilante name, they could be trying to keep her involvement as under wraps as possible. Another reason being Shouta’s excessive protectiveness over her, evidenced in the way he angles his body so he’s edged just slightly ahead of her, despite them walking side by side. She knows Secret said she was the first to go and that most of it was because she’s stubborn- which she is, but he didn’t have to be so mean about it- but is it just her? Or is Shouta going to be possessively protective over anyone who isn’t Secret or Silence and most likely Sequence too?

In a way, the possessiveness makes her heart warm, despite it getting on her nerves.

She’s never been disillusioned when it comes to Shouta. She knows it was Hizashi and Oboro that Shouta latched onto, not her. She’s always known that her place in Shouta’s heart, and Tensei’s too, is significantly smaller than Zashi, Boro and Nezu’s. Her and Shouta just never seemed to click in the way he clicked with those three. She knows he loves her, and she knows he would die or kill for her, but Nemuri has always assumed that if it came down to Zashi or her, Shouta would pick Zashi.

And that is enough for her, as long Shouta never turns his back on her.

So having Shouta be so aware, so protective, and over her no less, it makes her feel like maybe her place in his heart was never as small as she thought it was all these years. Maybe it’s because Shouta- this Shouta, time traveler Shouta- lost practically everyone he ever loved. Maybe it’s always been like this and she just never realized it. Maybe this is something even Shouta doesn’t fully recognize, but she does . And as much as being sidelined like this annoys her to hell and back, she hopes he never loses this new side to him. She hopes that he never truly lets his possessiveness over her fade. 

Nemuri kind of likes this, is that weird? 

She might need to book a therapy session to help organize her thoughts on the matter. 

“Alright, next up are the tunnels. Salem, are you ready?” Secret says through the comm link, and she suspects the mask is silenced on the outside. 

“I’m ready, let’s do this,” Nemuri responds, kind of itching for the chance to get some action. She didn’t exactly choose heroics for fame, though it can be a nice bonus. Sometimes. When men decide to not be absolute pigs. No, she chose it because she’s addicted to the adrenaline rush of a fight. Nemuri has always been a bit of a thrill seeker like that. 

They approach what looks like another section of wall next to more sections of wall, and she watches as Shouta reaches forward to open the secret hatch. Cool. She tries to lift the stiff, thick material of her coat jacket, but Secret interrupts her. “No need, just release your quirk. The fabric on the arms is more porous than the rest.” 

When she releases her quirk, she’s only a little surprised that Secret is telling the truth, the gas slipping through the fabric easily, rather than getting trapped and coming out of the sleeves slowly instead. Maybe a new suit won’t be too bad. It’ll certainly help her not have to avoid her support techie like the plague at least twice a week. In hindsight, always tearing up her suit to release her quirk is kind of dumb when there’s fabrics out there that can be porous enough for her quirk to slip through easily. 

Idly, as her quirk slowly fills the tunnels, she wonders what fabric the kid used and what it rates on the porosity scale.

It takes a good two minutes for the tunnels to fill up enough that it starts rising back up the stairs and slowly slipping past her into the above ground level. “Moving forward. I’ll take the rear this time,” Secret speaks through her mask-comms. They move through the tunnels at an almost relaxed pace, checking every door as they pass. Only a few of them have locks, but they don’t hold anything that looks to be of value so they keep moving. 

It’s when they’re about half way through the tunnels when they find the little girl’s room.

Nemuri stares in horror as she and Silence enter the room, Shouta and Secret staying in the hall to watch for an ambush. There’s no windows, which makes sense with them being underground and everything. There’s only one source of light, and it’s set into the ceiling to prevent being broken and used for an escape, and the light switch is outside the room instead of inside. There’s a small table, with papers covered in crayon scattered across the top, a few pieces falling to the floor. A small box of crayons has been opened and clearly used a lot, the crayons half their original size. 

Nemuri picks up one of the drawings and feels bile rising in her throat.

She is not a psychologist by any means. She doesn’t have any of the training or schooling to be able to psychoanalyze what the drawings mean, but she knows it’s not good. Most children like to draw things like dragons and animals and houses and stick figures. This poor little girl, whoever she is, doesn’t draw anything of the sort. As she picks up more and more of the drawings, they’re all the same. The vague shape of a stick figure person with white for hair, and black and red crayon is used to make sharp lines like an explosion out of the body. 

“I think you should see this.” Nemuri hands the papers off to Silence, who takes them carefully. She can’t see the kid’s- adult? Time traveler’s?- expression behind the mask and goggles, but she does notice the way his shoulders drop and the tension in his grip. Silence folds the drawings up into a square, unzips a pocket on his jacket underneath his arm, and slips the papers into the pocket.

“She’s not in here, she’s probably with Overhaul then.” Silence walks out of the room, tapping Secret and Shouta on the shoulders as they stand in the doorway facing out. Nemuri catalogs the rest of the room quickly, memorizing what she can for her report to Nezu. Beside the bed on the floor is a small pile of blood-spotted bandages. In the far corner is a small stack of unopened princess, hero, and mermaid dolls Nemuri vaguely recalls as being really popular. There’s no closet, no clothes, and in the other corner, opposite the stack of toys, is a metal toilet that is small enough for a child. 

This is not a room, it’s a prison cell, and she knows it.

Nemuri quietly grabs a few more of the drawings- all the same, but in different colors, always with white as the hair- and slips them into her own pocket to add to her report to Nezu. He’s going to want to see, and so will Zashi. Before she walks away from the drawing table, she notices a paper that’s different from the rest, and when she picks it up, she recognizes the broken, unrefined katakana of a short message.

“Make stop. Want sleep forevr. Make stop.”

Her heart breaks even more. The message has been crossed out and rewritten a few times, covering the page in large katakana. Even though she was hell bent on saving this child before, now she’s ready to go on a rampage. She slips this paper into her jacket as well and joins the boys who are waiting for her. She taps Shouta and Secret on the shoulder and they start moving down the hall again. 

With her quirk, they make it a quick process as they search every room, Secret laying down a scattered dirt trail to follow back every time they hit a dead end. Most of the time, they only have to secure and gag people, but they do come across two or three scientists- at least she thinks they are since they’re wearing blood covered lab coats- in the process of going to bed for the night. 

They even find Overhaul’s room before they find Eri.

It’s squeaky clean, and even while wearing her mask, she knows there’s not a speck of dust or dirt in the entire room. The bed is militarily perfect, the clothes are all in their own clear garment bags. The bathroom practically sparkles. This Overhaul guy is definitely a clean freak, probably even a germaphobe with OCD. 

They keep moving.

It isn’t until they’re deep into the underground compound when they hear the first muffled scream. The sound makes Nemuri flinch, and she knows in her gut, they aren’t going to like what they find when they find Eri. They don’t rush for the direction of the screams, even if all four of them tense like they’re ready to bolt to the little girl in pain. She hates it, as she’s sure her boys do too, but going straight to Eri risks an ambush if someone gets to the alarm system. That poor child doesn’t deserve to be involved in a large-scale fight. 

It takes maybe five more minutes of hearing screams peter out and start up again before they finish clearing the rooms.

Every second they have to hear that poor child in pain makes her even more tense and angry. She wants to break a bone for every scream they’ve heard since they got close enough, but that would, unfortunately, bring too much negative attention on the Snakes. She may not agree with Shouta abandoning them- time traveler or not- to be a world renowned vigilante, but she won’t be the catalyst for their downfall. 

She hates to admit it, but they’re changing the world, and she wants to help them finish their mission so Shouta can come home. 

The rooms start becoming few and far between as they close in on the labs, the screams being joined by the vague sound of talking. If she strains her ears enough, she can catch the sounds of machines whirring too. When they pass the final room before the end of the hall, where a single door rests, they hear what the voices are saying. 

“Now Eri,” a male voice, deep and menacing, says over the sound of quiet sobbing. “Quit struggling. Your power is a curse, but it can help erase other people’s curses. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to be helpful?”

Nemuri scowls. “How disgusting,” she mutters quietly, getting a few sounds of angry agreement as they stack up on the door. She crouches just beside the door on the hinges side, while Silence stands behind her. He’s close enough, that if it weren’t for the masks, she would probably feel his breath on her neck. Secret and Shouta crouch just beside the door handle, and Secret places his finger on the handle. He doesn’t open it just yet, even as Eri starts screaming again, before her screams cut out quickly. Barely a second later, she’s sobbing again. 

“Salem, Silence, you two are taking the lead. Phase Three starts in three,” Secret counts off. “Two.” Nemuri tenses and prepares to move. “One.” 

Secret’s fingers jam the handle down and Nemuri uses her weight to open the door.