Chapter Text
Izuku wakes up to the sound of an explosion coming from the kitchen. He immediately grabs the knife closest to him and jumps up from the couch. Sighing, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and puts the knife back down on the table, realizing what had happened. He has to keep himself from laughing when he sees the state his kitchen is in. And Hitoshi.
The poor boy was standing in front of the decimated toaster like a statue, having some smoke and grease on his face, but otherwise looking unharmed. He turns around and makes eye contact with Izuku. Before the boy can start panicking, Izuku holds up his hands in a placating gesture and slowly walks towards him.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re not in trouble, okay?” The boy starts to shake as tears start to form in his eyes and Izuku groans internally. He wasn’t always the best with other people’s emotions, and he’s still not. Izuku starts talking again when Hitoshi starts to sign apologies as he shakes. “No, don’t worry about it. I needed a new one anyway.” Izuku grabs some paper towels and wets them slightly, starting to wipe up the ash from the explosion. “We just gotta clean it up a bit, okay? The ash probably isn't good for us.” He says, smiling. Hitoshi gives him a small smile and helps Izuku clean up. Trying to keep the boy distracted, Izuku comes up with an idea.
“Why don’t we go to the mall today? Get a new toaster and some new clothes, because I only have a few sets and I think yours are a bit… ruined.” Izuku looks over his shoulder, but Hitoshi is just staring at him, dumbfounded.
“No, I don’t want you to spend money on me. I will find some to repay you for-”
“What did I say? I said I needed a new one anyway, okay? I got plenty of cash and can always make more. Seriously, don't worry about it.” Izuku waves him off and finishes wiping down the walls. Throwing the towel away, he starts to go get ready for their outing. “Grab your shoes. And wipe your face off. It looks like you just came from a burning building.” He smiles as the boy huffs in irritation, but starts to wipe his face off with a clean paper towel.
By the time Izuku’s ready to go, Hitoshi has wiped himself off and is slipping on his shoes by the door. Izuku walks over to him and smiles, holding out his hand. The purple haired teen takes it and Izuku helps him up.
“I promise I’m not mad. I’ve tried to fix that thing six different times now. You probably just connected the wrong wires. I did that the first two times I fixed it.” Izuku laughs, shaking his head. “It took me a while to figure it out, so don’t be too embarrassed. I’ll let you try it out again once we get back, okay?” Hitoshi nods, smiling. “Alrighty, then! First things first, let’s get you some new clothes!”
~+~+~
They had been shopping for almost an hour, Hitoshi picking out muted colored shirts with some shorts and pants. Izuku also made sure to remind him he needs underwear and socks and possibly even a tank top for the coming summer. Izuku grabbed himself some new black tank tops and long sleeves. While he wasn’t looking forward to the summer, as he overheated quite a bit with the fact he wore pants and long sleeves all the time, it would mean that the nights are shorter, meaning shorter patrols.
The two were about to go into a shoe store, Izuku’s own sneakers and combat boots being on their last life, when someone called out to him.
“Midori, is that you?” Izuku groans internally as he whips his head around and sees Hizashi.
“Hizashi!” he grimaces. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be working at this time! You usually are…” He mutters the last part, earring a cough from Hitoshi.
“Yes, well I realized I have a last minute appearance show tonight and needed a new outfit!”
“Not that he needs any more clothes,” Izuku furrows his eyebrows at the man behind Hizashi. The man’s shadow wears all back, with black hair, and nearly black eye bags under his eyes. He carries quite a few bags of clothing on his arms and Izuku wonders how many of them were Hizashi’s.
Probably all of them, he thinks to himself.
“Don’t say that, Shouta!” Hizashi playfully slaps the man's arm. “Ignore my husband. He says something like that but all he wears every day all day is black. No sense of style at all.”
“It’s irrational to have a different outfit for every occasion and day. Black goes with everything, you can't tell when it’s dirty, and I don't spend an hour deciding what I’m going to wear every morning.” The man rolls his eyes, but Izuku can tell he has no malice in the comments. He shifts the bags around his arms and pulls up his own long black sleeves, revealing a gray cloth being wrapped around his forearms.
Izuku is surprised he didn’t shit himself right there in front of everyone.
Oh fuck. It’s Eraserhead.
“Well,” He laughs uncomfortably, grabbing Hitoshi’s wrist. “It’s been nice seeing you, but we gotta get home, right Hitoshi?” The boy looks at him, confused, but nods. Before the two can make their escape, Hizashi puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, you okay, kiddo? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Hizashi’s voice is laced with worry and Izuku tries to come up with the best excuse he can.
“Fine! Just… realized what time it was and that we need to get home, is all. Mom and dad won’t be too happy if we miss our curfew.” Izuku doesn’t miss the look the two men give one another, but doesn’t worry about it. “I’ll see you later, okay Hizashi? Don't worry, I’m sure we’ll come to get some food from you this week.” Before the man can reply, Izuku starts to drag Hitoshi and himself away from the two adults. It isn’t until they exit the mall that Izuku sighs in relief and drops the poor boy’s wrist. Collapsing on a near bench, Izuku drops his head into his hands, breathing deeply. Izuku snaps his head up to look at Hitoshi when the boy taps on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong? Why did you freak out like that?” Hitoshi asks, sitting next to the boy.
“Ah, you know how I’m a vigilante?” Hitoshi nods. “One of the underground heroes that I partner up with a lot is Eraserhead. Apparently Eraserhead is ‘Shouta’ and is married to Hizashi, the man I see every other day to eat some lunch or dinner.” Before Izuku can help himself, he starts to mutter. “Oh fuck what if he recognized me? I mean, it’s unlikely since he’s never even seen my face, let alone my voice, right? I mean I don’t think he’s ever seen me without my gear. But what if he has? Or maybe he recognized my hair? I mean how many kids in Japan have green hair and are so short. What if-” Izuku feels his chest start to heave as his hands shake. He starts to itch at his arms when Hitoshi puts a hand on his shoulder. Izuku takes a second to realize what was going on and shrugs Hitoshi’s hand off of him. Taking a deep breath, Izuku does his best to calm himself down.
“I’m okay, thank you.” He says shakily, unconsciously picking at his nails.
“He probably didn’t recognize you, don’t freak out too badly. That, and Hizashi doesn’t even know your name, so how would they figure it out?” Hitoshi asks, giving Izuku a pointed look.
“Right, right. They don’t know anything. I’m okay.” Izuku says, but the itch under his skin doesn’t go away. “We-we should get back.” Izuku stands suddenly and starts to walk away from the mall. Hitoshi scrambles after him and the two fall into silence as they make their way back home.
They’re about halfway there when the ground shakes and people stumble around them. Shouts come from a few blocks over and Izuku immediately takes off, not really caring if Hitoshi follows. Izuku stumbles into civilians running past him, getting shouldered here and there in the chaos. When he arrives at where the shouts had come from, he pauses and quickly assesses the situation.
A man with spikes all over his body yells as he destroys a few buildings. The man, of whom Izuku has already dubbed ‘porcupine’ in his head, shouts and throws the spikes at the surrounding civilians. Izuku dodges, a spike nearly getting him in the arm. He flees to an alleyway and drops the bags he was holding. He grabs a mask from his bag and some of his knives as Hitoshi stumbles into the alleyway as well.
“Head back home and stay out of dodge. I’ll deal with him, alright?” Hitoshi nods, eyes wide. Izuku pulls up his mask and grabs a smoke bomb out of his bag and darts out of the alleyway and up to the top of a nearby building, overseeing the chaos. He opens his phone and calls Eraser. The man picks up on the second ring.
“Kumo? What’s wrong?” Eraser asks, worry evident in his voice.
“Villain attack on outskirts of the redlight district. Instant villain with spikes.” Izuku ducks as the man looks up at him. “Civilians have already been injured and no heroes are on site.”
“I’ll be there soon. Keep the civilians out of the line of fire.” The call ends. Izuku pockets the phone right as the building beneath him shudders. He leaps off the roof before it collapses, twisting midair. Spikes jut from the side of the building like macabre scaffolding. Porcupine barrels toward him, snarling.
Izuku rolls, dodges a spray of spikes, grabs a mother and her little boy by their arms, and drags them behind an abandoned car.
“Stay down,” he orders, before sprinting back into the open.
Eraser arrives like a shadow, scarf snapping forward as his eyes burn red. Porcupine freezes—spikes halting mid-growth, quills on his skin retracting painfully.
With his Quirk cancelled, he’s just a man. A dangerous one, but beatable.
Izuku steps forward, knife already spinning in his fingers. His breathing is steady. His intent is clear.
Eraser’s hand snaps out to block him. “Kumo. No.”
Izuku’s voice is ice. “He’s another villain. You know how this goes.”
“Look.” Eraser tilts his chin toward the street.
Izuku follows his gaze.
Dozens of civilians. Phones out. Recording him.
Recording everything.
“Well,” Izuku says, voice muffled behind his mask as he flicks his wrist, “good thing I’m not a hero, then.”
The knife buries itself in the man’s throat before Eraser can react.
Gasps. Screams. Someone drops their phone.
Eraser lunges for him, scarf whipping forward, but Izuku’s already gone.
++~+~+
By the time he gets home, his gloves are still damp and Hitoshi is pacing in the kitche.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” He signs furiously as Izuku walks in the door.
Izuku sighs and ignores him, tossing his gloves and mask in the garbage and heading towards his room. When he tries to bypass Hitoshi, the boy puts a hand on his shoulder and shoves him back, not allowing him into the room.
“You’re going out again?”
“What's wrong with that?” Izuku asks, crossing his arms.
“You can’t! They’re looking for you. The Commission, the police, heroes—everyone.”
“I can take care of myself.” Izuku brushes past the boy easily and enters the room. Grabbing his actual vigilante mask and a fresh set of weapons from the drawer, he ignores Hitoshi’s protests. “Don’t wait up. Might be gone for a while.”
Hitoshi reaches for him, but Izuku steps back, already halfway out the door.
He takes to the roof’s immediately. The sun had already set, so he wanders until he finds a tall, abandoned office building. Empty. Quiet. Perfect.
On the roof, he makes sure he’s alone.
The city glows beneath him as he pulls one of the knives from his belt.
His hands don’t shake, the practice too ingrained in his mind anymore to scare him.
A clean slice across each wrist. Warmth blooms and then spills, dripping onto the cracked rooftop. He lies back, staring at the stars spreading across the sky like scattered shards of glass.
It’s peaceful.
And then—
A breath.
A choke.
A voice.
“…Kumo?”
Izuku’s eyes flutter open.
He isn’t looking at the stars anymore.
He’s looking into the furious, terrified, exhausted eyes of Eraserhead.
“What the hell did you do?” Eraser goes for his wrists, trying to stop the bleeding.
Izuku tries to feel bad, bad that Eraser found him like this, that the man has to watch him die and not know he’ll be fine, but he can’t. He’s too tired and already feels his mind slipping from his body. “I’ll be fine. Always am.”
“What does that even mean? Kumo!”
His vision blurs, but he recognizes the wetness on Eraser’s face.
Not rain.
Not sweat.
Tears.
Izuku’s breath catches.
“…Why do you care?” he whispers, but before he can hear Eraser’s reply, darkness takes over him in a warm embrace.