Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was something about quiet nights in the city. That weird way the steps you took echoed off of empty streets. The way that the dull thrum of far-off cars and trains eventually dropped off into white noise. The way the shadows flickered with any passing sort of light. It felt familiar, but also completely alien. It felt like one of those weird internet things…liminal spaces, maybe? Something about a pool-

Thwack!

The lack of foot traffic was also pretty nice. Night allowed someone with the knowhow the chance to just…disappear. To become one with the shadows and the background. Plus, nobody would think twice about someone dressed in all black pouncing between rooftops! On the other hand, it was also pretty inconvenient for shopping. Why was it so hard to find good coffee at 3am? That’s the BEST TIME to have coffee!

Thwack! Slam!

After spending so long prowling about at night, having to go out during the day just felt claustrophobic. So many people. You’d think there would be more people with nocturnal quirks out and about, but they usually tended to either work night jobs or keep to themselves.

Splash!

It was the feeling of a nice, quiet city night that allowed one’s thoughts to wonder like this. It was a nice time to reflect. Maybe not about one’s self, but about the nature of the world in general! So many simple or mundane things were taken for granted during the day that seemed to come alive as soon as the sun set.

“Will somebody get him to stop FUCKING MOVING!”

Tonight was SUPPOSED to be quiet, at least. It certainly didn’t last very long.

Izuku ducked under an oversized fist just before it could clobber him against the wall of the building he was pressed against. The attacker, some low-level gang member, looked like his quirk could expand his limbs by filling them with air. The strength his inflated arms granted him was impressive but…he looked kind of silly, to be honest.

The thug pulled his hand back from the now-cracked brick, cradling swollen and bleeding knuckles. No enhanced durability then. What a shame.

“Yuri, now!”

Izuku dove to the side as another thug, this one with some kind of gecko mutation, ran at him with his palms out. Small protrusions, kind of nozzle-looking, popped out before spraying some kind of gel in a wide arc across the alleyway they had been fighting in the last few minutes.

It had been a pretty quiet patrol, up to this point. He had stopped a mugger and broken up a gaggle of drunk teenagers (and on a Wednesday no less!), but that had been pretty much it. Izuku had quietly leapt from rooftop to rooftop, winding through city blocks on his nightly journey towards the nearest source of caffeine, when a burst of light had caught his eye from below.

Moving to the roof of a nearby shop and peering down into the alley below, it looked like a small gathering of 5 people, all wearing run-of-the-mill street thug clothes. One appeared to have some kind of lizard mutation, and another was pretty big and bulky, but the others didn’t have any noticeable quirk mutations or features.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a cause of concern, outside of how overall sketchy they looked (people out at this hour weren’t exactly known for running book clubs), but the lizard guy was spraying some viscous sludge out of his hands onto the side of the adjacent hardware store, while one of the others was holding a lighter. Next to them, a trashcan was burning, bright blue flames leaking over the slide like lava and beginning to spread across the ground.

Great, he shoots napalm out of his hands.

Most of the thugs had gone down easily. Izuku had gotten the drop on them, his stylish outfit of black jeans, black combat boots, and a dark gray padded sweatshirt letting him blend into the background. A few hits to the back of the head and three men went sprawling. The big guy was proving more agile than his frame would suggest, and of course napalm-guy knew to hang back and be a nuisance.

Luckily, Izuku knew how to deal with annoying quirks.

Ducking under another inflated swing from the big guy, Izuku dashed forwards towards the other thug. Not having expected cornered prey to charge straight at him, he recoiled in surprise, bringing his arms to bare and splattering the ground around them in more flammable slime. Not good. He’d have to make this quick. Lashing out with his right hand, Izuku grabbed the man by the face, fingers wrapping around a slightly-elongated snout, making sure the open slit in the palm of his dark red glove gave him skin (or in this case, scale) contact with his hand.

TAKE.

Dark red light poured from his hand in tendrils, bathing the alleyway around him in a dull glow. They almost appeared to wrap around the man, before retreating into Izuku with a snap. The thug let out a muffled scream as his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped to the ground in a heap.

Izuku rolled the new ball of energy around in his chest for a moment, savoring the odd, almost slimy sensation his newest quirk gave off. He wouldn’t be keeping it for long, sadly. Turning on his heel, the big guy was frozen in place, staring down at him with eyes wide, shadows flickering behind him as blue fire slowly consumed more of the alleyway. Izuku took a step forwards, then another, then a third, before the big guy snapped out of his trance, lunging at Izuku in a panic, arms inflating to what looked like their maximum with his quirk.

“Shit! I shoulda guessed! N-”

Ducking forwards, Izuku buried his fist in the thug’s diaphragm, causing him to double over and wheeze for air. Another heavy hit to the back of the neck and he was out for the count. Huffing, Izuku trotted over to the thug formerly known as Napalm-Man, slapping a hand on his head and returning his quirk (ignoring that feeling of emptiness he had long grown accustomed to). Tonight was a bit of a wash, at this point. He had stopped a few would-be-arsonists, but with all of the bright lights, curious people (and the police) would eventually show up to investigate. Best to make himself scarce.

Whipping out his cheap burner phone, he called the police station number he’d memorized 4 or 5 phones ago.

“Musutafu Police Precinct. Detective Tsukauchi speaking.”

“Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

A long, weary sigh sounded over the receiver. Izuku could hear the familiar sound of an office chair screeching against the ground, which meant he had either woken the detective up from a nap or he had slammed his head down on his desk in frustration. Both were equally funny options.

“You’re under arrest.”

“Do you want the arsonists or not?”

A gasp. Well that got his attention.

“What do you mean arsonists?! Are there any injuries?”

Izuku nodded, even if nobody could see. “Just five thugs. One of them has a napalm quirk. I think they were trying to torch a hardware store, 5 blocks east of the hospital. I think the sign says ‘Frank’s’ on it? Anyways, can you come pick these guys up before-”

BOOOOOM!

Izuku was nearly knocked off of his feet as a ball of blue fire exploded across the alley, splattering flaming gel across the buildings adjacent, two of the thugs, and Izuku’s arms, which had thankfully come up to cover his face.

“What was that?”

“Shit! Looks like there was something flammable at the bottom of that trash can! Tsukauchi-san, I’d include the fire brigade with that! Bring some foam too. Ouch! Shit, that’s hot, gotta go!”

Izuku hung of the phone before glancing down at his sweatshirt. Patches of flaming goo were stuck to both sleeves and part of his chest. Patting it out would just get it on his gloves, and water just spreads this stuff around…

“What the hell is this?! Someone call 119!”

Oh, shit.

Looking back, more of the offending gel had splattered up the side of the building on the opposite side of the narrow alley, which looked like a small apartment building. A couple of people were already scrambling out of the side door, but the flames were already starting to spread. Izuku ripped his hoodie off, figuring it a lost cause at this point, leaving his torso only covered by a tight athletic shirt with the word ‘SMASH!’ written in bright yellow letters. Thinking quickly, he decided to use the quickly-melting fabric to smother most of the flames on thugs before he heard a voice.

“Hey! Are you a hero? We need some help over here!”

Izuku wondered why the heck anyone would assume he was a hero, before he remembered he had his mask on. Well, it was really more of a helmet. He had only gotten it recently, from an offer that was definitely too good to be true. Whatever favor he owed that sketchy guy in purple was gunna come back to bite him. The helmet was pretty nice, though. Solid black and smooth, it surrounded his entire head with a smooth black glass for the face. On the inside, it was completely transparent, and even had a heads-up display, with a ton of random features he wasn’t even halfway done customizing yet. It was basically a high-tech, customizable motorcycle helmet.

He did also manage to rip out the four separate tracking bugs planted in it, and was pretty confident there weren’t any more.

Shaking his head from his distraction, Izuku ran over to the, now partially ablaze, side door, where a middle-aged man with feathers for hair was ushering a small family out into the street. The man regarded him suspiciously as he approached, hands on his hips.

“The hell happened here? Did you do this?”

Izuku’s eye flicked to the top-right corner of his HUD, flicking through a few quick commands with nothing more than his eyes, until he was able to activate the voice changer, making him sound just a bit older than 15.

“A group of criminals were attempting to use a quirk to vandalize the store next door. I knocked them out, but a fire they lit exploded and splattered some flammable gel across the building. Police and fire should be here soon.”

The man nodded. Izuku could see flames reaching the windows on the second floor now, not good. God he was stupid. Why the hell did he opt to fight the napalm-spewing villain in a narrow freaking alleyway? Thankfully, it was a crappy building in a crappier part of town, meaning that there were probably only a few people who lived there.

He wished he could do something about the fire, but he had nothing in his arsenal that could help. There was no way for him to access a fire hydrant before the cops got there, and water didn’t really work on the gel anyways. Izuku laced his fingers together, trying to think over the roar of the flames, the loud chatter and yelling of the building residents, and the steadily growing sound of sirens.

Quiet night over, he supposed.

“WAIT! No, lemme go! I have to go back!”

The voice was high and shrill, probably a girl younger than he was. Turning, he saw a young woman, maybe in her late-20s or early-30s, with a little girl thrown over her shoulder. The girl was screaming and crying, tears and snot pouring down her face. The woman, who Izuku assumed was her mother, had one of the girl’s arms pinned to her side, but the other was reaching out and up, towards the building that was now much more on fire than it had been a few minutes ago.

The sirens were getting closer…

“Sweetie I’m sorry! It’s too dangerous we can’t go back inside.”

“But Fuzzy!”

Oh hell….

Taking a deep breath, Izuku jogged over before making himself known. The mother immediately regarded him with suspicion (smart) but the kid immediately saw his mask and assumed the worst.

“Mr. Hero! Please save Fuzzy!”

Izuku raised a brow, not that they could see it. “Fuzzy? Ma’am, what’s going on?”

The woman sighed, before looking back at the building, nervous. “We ran out so fast I forgot to grab the cat. He’s…still up there.”

Fuck. Izuku had assumed Fuzzy was just a stuffed animal or something. The fire was spreading more by the second. Even if they started pouring chemicals on the fire right this second…

Flashing blue and red lights came around the next corner, a block or two away. Izuku could see three police cars at the front, guiding a fire engine down the once quiet neighborhood street. He turned back to the mother.

“Which balcony is yours?”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. She looked ready to retort (because not only was he not a hero, he didn’t look even remotely like one, come on now) but her retort died when the girl let out another pitiful wail, hand still reached out grasping for the building. Instead, she pointed to a balcony on the third floor. The flames weren’t quite licking at the bottom of it yet.

“That one there. He does come when his name is called…sometimes.”

Izuku nodded. “Alright. I’ll be right back. Stay safe.”

Izuku took off at a sprint directly at the front of the building. Already dreading the burn cream he was going to probably need to steal from the pharmacy tomorrow, he kicked off of the burning wall and catapulted himself up, just far enough to grab the railing of a balcony. Hauling himself up, he winced as fire licked the sides of his arms. Between the napalm earlier and now this, he’d be lucky to get off with some second-degree burns.

He climbed atop the railing, before jumping and reaching for the next balcony, just barely getting his fingers along the metal support for the next railing up. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he could see the police cars had parked. He hoped they’d take care of the thugs in the alley before they came and bothered him. Meanwhile, a fire engine had finally pulled up, and several firefighters were spilling onto the street with hoses hooked up to large tanks he imagined contained suppressive foam. This was why he always called his favorite detective’s extension. Man actually listened to him, even if Izuku made him want to retire early. Climbing up onto the next balcony, he thanked his lucky stars his fancy mask/helmet had air filtration built in, although he’d probably have to change the filter out tomorrow.

He was almost there! His arms burned and one of his boots may have been melting, but he was now one balcony beneath and one over of where the woman had pointed. With a quick command, he turned his voice changer settings to something just a bit off from his natural, higher-pitched voice, and cranked the volume up.

“Fuzzy! Fuzzy! Come here, buddy! Fuzzy!”

He knew everyone on the ground was probably looking at him, although they were hard to make out at this point through the smoke. He waited one painful second, then another, then another.

*mrrrow!*

Izuku let out a desperate chuckle as a VERY unhappy looking cat trotted onto the balcony. He was hanging off of his own railing just to see up there, pretty precarious for being 2 stories up. It was a bright orange cat, probably a few years old, with big green eyes and a red collar. He looked a bit smokey but otherwise okay. The fire was quickly becoming an issue, though, and-

*creeeeaaaaaak!*

The building gave off an ominous sound. Probably not the sturdiest thing, for this part of town. Crap. Izuku’s arms had to be thoroughly burned by now. If he waited too long, either he’d die, or the cat would die, or something in the building would give and they’d both die. He needed a faster way…

Well, there was one, but it was a terrible idea.

So his trademark, then.

Standing atop the railing, facing out, Izuku crouched down and prepared to jump. The fire flared above him, and the cat flinched back, looking miserable. Izuku sorted through the motes of energy in his chest, quickly finding the one that felt the most familiar.

He leapt from the railing and turned, reaching a hand out towards the cat.

Pull.

Thankfully, cat collars counted as small objects.

With a mental apology to Fuzzy, he gave a hard yank as soon as he felt the quirk latch on, and Fuzzy went sailing beneath the railing out over open air, and directly into Izuku’s waiting arms as he turned mid-leap. Tucking the feline in close, he hit the ground hard, but at a roll, definitely hurting something but ultimately not going splat on the pavement and ending up on his back. Looking down, the cat was shaking, and super unhappy, but alive. Thank goodness.

Jogging back over, Izuku was met with a wide-eyed mom and a hysterical little girl once again, who scooped the cat up in her arms, wailing and shouting a thousand ‘thank-you’s. Smiling under his mask, Izuku nodded at the two. It was far past his time to leave.

“Who…what’s your name? How can I thank you?” Just as he turned, Izuku looked back at the older woman, who had scooped the cat out of the girl’s arms (much more gently) while she held her daughter’s hand.

“Hey! You, right there! Don’t move!”

Izuku startled as two police offers started running towards him, hands on their guns. He turned to run, but regarded the woman first.

“I’m Null.”

==============

Naomosa was, once again, working late.

He had pretty much just become nocturnal at this point. And by nocturnal, he meant that he slept a solid 3-4 hours each night, and just worked the rest. (Which was fine! He was fine.) If nothing else, his work-ethic got him promoted to full detective pretty quickly. Plus, there were benefits to working such odd, long hours. He got to talk to his sister pretty often, despite the time difference between Japan and New York. Makoto was still working with Captain Celebrity and that Crawler-guy in the states, and was apparently doing quite well as the agency manager there.

He sighed as he finished filling out the last of tonight’s incident report. One small apartment building, burned and uninhabitable. Two adjacent buildings that were still standing but would need serious repairs and inspections to function again. No major civilian injuries, outside of, apparently, an extremely unhappy house pet with a burned paw.

And then there were the villains.

Naomosa really would have preferred to just keep them as criminals, but the use of a quirk was pretty obvious once he ran their names through the system. They were nobodies, a few small-time gangsters getting revenge on the owner of a local hardware store. They’d offered him ‘neighborly protection’, for a ridiculous fee of course, and he hadn’t paid. They were basically kids, between 18 and 25 years old, and they threw their lives away trying to imitate some kind of low-budget mobster movie? What a shame.

Moving his attention to his computer screen, he flipped through the video recordings of their official statements and questioning, before landing on Takeya Hui, the man with the Inflatable Arms quirk.

“Interrogation Room 3. Time is 4:06am local time. Officer Detective Tsukauchi recording. Processing Takeya Hui, age 22, quirk: Inflatable Arms. Brought in with 1 charge of villainy, 1 charge of resisting arrest, and 1 charge of arson, degree 1. Takeya-san, is the information I just stated correct to the best of your knowledge?”

The man, unkempt blonde hair a singed mess with several bandages across his upper body, slumps on the video with a sigh.

“Yeah.”

The video continued, Naomosa grilling the de-facto leader of their little group on the events of the evening and the surrounding intent. Pretty by the books, all things considered.

Except for the end.

“Tell me about the person who fought you.”

The man glanced up, confused and a bit defiant. “Why would I do that? I’m already fucked, what good does that do me?”

Naomosa brought out a few files along with a blurry, dark picture of a person, fairly short and dressed in all black. He had the hood of his dark sweatshirt up and a black medical mask over the bottom of his face. All that could be seen from this angle was the figure’s eyes, bright green and glaring at the camera.

“He’s a person of interest. We’ve actually been working on bringing him in for a while now. A vigilante who goes by Null. Does this picture match the person who fought you?”

Silence permeated the room for about 10 seconds. Being subversive isn’t really Naomosa’s style, by preference. That didn’t mean he was unable, or unwilling, to utilize those talents.

“You’re pretty young, you know. This is a pretty high-profile case. If you tell me what I need to know, legally it can count as cooperation on a villainy case. It can get your sentence reduced, maybe even get you off with a slap on the wrist and some community service.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, those things COULD happen. They probably wouldn’t though. Regardless the man perked up for a split second, causing Naomosa to internally grin, before his posture relaxed and he leaned back in his chair, looking like he was about to get out scot-free.

“Yeah, that’s the punk. He was wearing a different shirt, and he had a fancy helmet ‘stead of the hood, but otherwise, yeah.”

“What was he like? Did he say anything?”

“He was quiet. Dropped outta the sky like some kinda comic book character and just started wailing on us. Then he….uh…”
“He used his quirk, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What can you tell me about it?”

“Well, uh…we’d heard about him, ya know? Just neighborhood rumors. Some dark-dressed kid running around turning off peoples’ quirks by touchin’ em. Freaky. Yeah after he gave me the slip, he ran at Gene, grabbed his nose, and this weird red light came outta him. Next thing I knew, Gene’s quirk cut off and he was on the ground.”

“I see. This matches most of what we had, but you’re probably one of the best first-hand accounts we’ve gotten.”

“Oh! Good! Yeah, it was freaky. It’s not permanent is it? Gene’s a fun guy, it’d suck if he became a quirkless, ya know?”

Naomosa cringed. “Usually it isn’t. While I’m not at liberty to discuss what details we’ve found, your friend most likely still has the use of his quirk. That’ll be all we need today, thank you. Detective Tsukauchi, signing off.”

“Hey! Wait! What about my community ser-”

The video ended, and Naomosa tried in vain to rub the tiredness from his eyes.

Null’s case had gotten passed onto his desk a little over a year ago. Vigilantes, while not common, were really nothing new. They usually got an influx across Japan in early summer, just a few months after the Hero Course entrance exam results went out. Kids who thought they were destined to be heroes, realizing they’d come up short, strive to make a name for themselves. Most realize how difficult being a vigilante actually is, and either quit after a few days or are caught because they’re reckless. An unfortunate few get injured, maimed, or killed by villains (or, as much as he despised to admit it, by police or heroes who mistook the plucky teenager throwing their quirk around for an actual villain).

Null was different though. Reports of him had started popping up all over the prefecture within a few days starting a couple of years back, surging in frequency and plateauing but never stopping. He wore dark, amateur-level clothing to conceal his presence and identity, and fought with a brutal hand-to-hand style that spoke of some kind of professional training. His takedowns were fast and efficient, although they teetered right on the edge of excessive force. He certainly wasn’t afraid to aim for weak spots.

Frankly, Naomosa was happy to pass off the reports to the local hero agencies and move on with his week, until he got that email. Why him, specifically, he may never know, but when the Secretary of the Hero Public Safety Commission sends you an email, you tend to pay attention. The email requested (read: demanded) that the Null case be moved to high priority, and even advertised a reward to the hero agency or precinct to bring him in.

They put a damned bounty on him.

Naomosa was no stranger to the Commission. They crossed paths with one another during villain processing, usually finding themselves in the same email chains and signing the same forms but never directly interacting. But for them to go to these lengths was certainly odd. Naomosa imagined it must have been his quirk.

As best they could tell by piecing together eyewitness accounts, Null had a powerful erasure quirk. If he touched someone, he could disable their quirk completely for an unknown period of time. There were some visual components to it, a bright red light, and probably some kind of activation requirements, but it was enough. The authorities had absolutely no idea how powerful it actually was, only that it usually wore off after some time, or if Null touched the person a second time.

Emphasis on usually. They had one report of a criminal Null had…dispatched about a month ago. The man had, or at least used to have, a mutant quirk that turned him into some kind of humanoid mammoth. Naomosa didn’t work the case himself, but apparently the man had gotten screwed over by his boss because of some underlying quirkist issues at the factory he worked at, and had taken both his boss and the man’s wife hostage.

It was the only time anyone had seen Null during the day, and the only time one of his targets hadn’t ever regained their quirk. They ran tests on the man after the fact, and while his DNA was intact, outside of what was thought to be heavy trauma from having your body forcibly changed in such a way, his quirk factor was either gone or suppressed in a way blood tests couldn’t identify.

Naturally, he immediately called Yagi in a panic, confidentially be damned, because if All for One was still alive (or had a child? Or WAS a child??) he needed to know immediately. The Number One Hero was, of course, alarmed, but was confident AFO was dead and gone. Plus, according to him, All For One didn’t take mutant quirks to keep his normal appearance, and Null hadn’t exactly sprouted tusks and fur (and several feet of muscle) in the last few weeks.

Regardless, an erasure-type quirk was exceedingly, one-in-a-billion rare, and one that was potentially permanent was completely unique. Certainly unique enough to get on the Commission’s radar.

So now he had a high-profile vigilante, with enough knowhow and skill/training to keep up and not get caught. Who also had a probably-completely-unique erasure quirk, one powerful enough to disable someone else’s quirk, permanently. Who was now well-known enough to not only get on the radar of both heroes and villains, but also the HPSC, who were worried about him enough to put a (barely legal) bounty on him. Naomosa rubbed his eyes again and groaned, opening his email.

It was time to call in the expert.

Chapter Text

“Have you heard? Apparently Akatani is quirkless.”

“Quirkless?”

“It means he doesn’t have ANY power!”

“What? That can happen?”

Mikumo was seven, and he already knew that the world wasn’t fair.

He never got any special power. No wings stretched from his back, no lasers sprung from his eyes.

“He’s useless! Like some kind of…Deku!”

He definitely couldn’t fire explosions from his hands.

“Kacchan, don’t say that! It’s mean!”

School had become…less fun, in recent years. Once his classmates realized he was never going to manifest a quirk, they’d taken to picking on him for it. Especially….

“Shut your mouth, Deku! Some hero you’ll make! What’ll you do? Bore them to death by talking?”

Mikumo wasn’t special. Would never be special. Unlike Kacchan. Bakugo Katsuki, a blonde with fiery red eyes and a personality to match, would be an amazing hero someday. He had the talent, the drive, and was both intelligent and competitive. His quirk, Explosion, put him even further ahead of his peers. He was practically a hero already!

………………

“Where do you think you’re going, Deku?”

“Kacchan, w-wait!”

BOOM!

“Ah! Stop!”

“Shuddap, Deku! Stop fussing and learn your place already! Now c’mere!”

“Kacchan, STOP!”

BANG! ZAP!

“What…what did you do, Deku? WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Izuku’s eyes cracked open against harsh afternoon sunlight. Barely resisting the urge to burrow back under his blankets, he rolled himself off of his bed and onto the unforgiving wood of the floor. Stretching and cracking his back, he winced as last night finally caught up to him.

Looking down, his arms were covered in bandages and burn cream, along with a few places on his chest, as well as his left foot. He had enough first aid supplies on hand to deal with his burns last night, but he’d have to restock soon. Probably today. His costume, or what was left of it, lay in a smokey heap on the floor a few feet away. Another trip to the department store, then. Checking his phone for notifications (there were none, like always) he glanced around his little sanctuary.

He was actually rather proud of it. A condemned apartment building in the rougher part of town had gotten caught up in some kind of legal case. Something about unpaid back-taxes? What was important was that it’d be at least a few more years before the building could either be re-purposed or demolished. Izuku had moved in two years ago, and between regular vandalism and some quirk-enhanced remodeling, he had an entire corner of the building opened up for his own use.

There were no utilities, unfortunately, but a few years of saving his vigilante earnings (taking money from muggers and drug dealers) had earned him a bed, a hot plate, an ice box, and a small generator. He boarded up all but one window, and drew blackout curtains over the last to avoid detection at night, but in the day it was a nice way to get a little natural light inside. Moving to the center of the large studio, he tenderly began stretching out his limbs from the previous night, wincing as muscles strained and burned.

Coming in last night had been a bit of a blur. He had, as usual, clambered up the fire escape as quietly as possible to the fourth floor, before removing a false piece of plywood set in front of the unlocked window. He’d disinfected, cleaned, and dressed his injuries best he could in the light of his phone’s flashlight before tossing his costume off and passing out.

The growling of his stomach stopped his mental review, reminding him it was well past time to start his day. There was a lot to do! Grabbing a protein bar, Izuku whirled around his space, using Pull to snatch things from across the room and get ready in a flash. Now dressed in baggy blue jeans, an All Might t-shirt from over a decade ago, and a dark red hoodie, he slipped on his spare red boots and climbed out the window with a long-faded blue backpack, heading into town.

===============

Izuku groaned to himself, stretching his injured arms and nearly knocking his coffee onto the library desk he’d been parked at for the last four hours. He was making considerable progress with his online schooling, but man was it boring. Maybe it was his independent lifestyle, or the whole risking-your-life-illegally-in-the-dead-of-night thing he had going on, but most of what he was learning through the basic curriculum felt…well, lacking. He knew he needed some form of education. Not just to keep up with the rest of society as he got older, but also to get into high school eventually, online or otherwise. But literature sucked. Half the reason he did his lessons in the library was the access to all of the ancient, pre-quirk books the course made him read and analyze over and over again. At this point, he was pretty confident Grapes of Wrath contained exactly zero symbolism, and was in fact just a tool to torture young minds with.

Shaking his head free of the mental cobwebs that had been building up, Izuku opened a new browser window and navigated to something much more interesting: Quirks Analysis Anonymous.

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

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Any tips for reducing quirk-induced nausea? It’s the drawback for over-using my quirk, or using it on myself. It’s an emitter-type if that helps. Doctor just told me to take meds, but those don’t work anymore, and I can’t really afford a visit to a professional…

30 likes   38 comments

QAA was a blog, purposefully buried deep in the search algorithm so the HPSC wouldn’t shut it down. They tended to frown upon ‘amateur analysis’ and had shut down the last few bigger blogs due to concerns of ‘untrained civilian quirk use’. Meaning that they’d rather just pretend people who weren’t heroes didn’t have quirks at all. But QAA was better. It had different chat rooms where people could rant about their quirk problems and find support, or just get a laugh out of people. It also had rooms like #quirkDiscussions and #quirkAdvice, where people could post questions or issues they were having to the internet and hopefully get some good advice. Every user was screened and asked several interview questions before they could register, and nobody could post or even view most of the site unless they had a verified account. Once you got past the initial check, your personal details were wiped off the site completely, so it was all totally anonymous.

It was all Izuku’s perfect creation. He’d created the site about five years ago after a bad nighttime tangent into coding and web design (he’d been healing from a slightly broken ankle at the time with nothing better to do). It had been pretty slapdash at first, but over time he’d improved and innovated it up to the point it was at now, and even then, he’d still occasionally add a new feature or two. He himself had two accounts. One was a fake civilian account, SmallMight189, so he could participate in (sometimes rather heated) debates and discussions on quirks and their functions. The other was tied to the administrative side of the website, simply called Admin. He could use it to filter and deny/accept account requests, delete and moderate posts and threads, and all the other day-to-day work that came with running a website. More recently, however, it was mostly used to take advantage of the newest feature on the website: The Housecall Request Line.

It was taking a leap of faith. Anyone with an account could request a house call. Basically, they’d send a request with a short description of a severe or debilitating quirk or quirk-related issue, and ‘Admin’ would ‘send one of their specialists’ to deal with it. Izuku’s quirk being what it was, it gave him a pretty good understanding of how most quirks functioned, at least after seeing it in action. So basically, he’d send himself to deal with it under a false name and, occasionally, a slightly false appearance. The website was supposed to be anonymous, so for people to reach out like this they usually had to be pretty desperate. Not many people used it, if ever, and the ones that seemed sketchy were denied.

Izuku didn’t charge anything for it, usually just happy to help someone in need with their quirk. He never said no to tips, though. A growing boy has to eat after all, given his usual nighttime activities. He’d managed to help a few downtrodden folks this way, which made it all worth it.

There had been a few unfortunate cases where a person’s quirk was too volatile for their bodies to handle and couldn’t be trained, or was too debilitating for day-to-day life. In those cases, ‘Admin’ would send in a personal acquaintance to help with the issue.

Meaning Null would show up and relieve that person of their quirk entirely.

It had only happened three times thus far, and even now Izuku could feel those particular quirks bubbling inside of him, waiting to be called upon, although given their nature he almost never did.

His quirk was…a bit of an odd subject to him. Both a gift and a curse in some ways. On one hand, it let him take quirks from people, or return them, at will. It just required skin contact between the person in question and the small, circular hole one each of Izuku’s palms. He had never tried giving someone the wrong quirk back, but supposed he probably could? He’d never given anyone more than one either. He didn’t have many to give, and that’d be a great way to blow his cover. But on the other hand, it kind of messed up his life? Perhaps irreparably? Although he guessed that was more peoples’ reaction TO his quirk than the quirk itself.

As far as he knew, it didn’t matter how many quirks he had, because whenever he took one it settled deep within his chest, as what felt like a small ball of energy. Each quirk felt a bit different (that man’s napalm quirk felt kind of slimy, while Pull, his mother’s quirk, felt like a tiny magnet? It was hard to put into words), but just sat in his chest until he needed it. To actually use a quirk, he had to ‘slot’ it into place. Again, the feeling was a bit hard to describe, but it felt sort of like pulling a book from a shelf, or maybe putting a bowling ball onto a rack? He could slot two quirks at a time before he started feeling the strain. Three was possible with weaker and less-involved quirks, but anything more than that would either have him passing out from strain or in agony. Best he could figure, the human body just wasn’t made to use more than one quirk at a time, even his. He’d considered training to improve, but never really had the chance. Not like he could go around slinging all kinds of quirks around. He barely managed to keep off the Commission’s radar as-is, best not give them a better reason to hunt him down faster. It also made it seem like less of a monster.

Snapping out of his mental mutter-spree, Izuku logged into his Admin account and filtered through some of his usual business. About ten minutes into that, though, a new notification chirped at him; he had gotten a request for a house call.

Housecall Request

Submitted by: Overwatch452

Priority: Medium

Quirk: Super Senses

Remarks: Hello again. Apologies for the inconvenience, but Hana is having more issues, and we’d like to request another appointment as soon as possible. She’s been falling behind in school again, not even able to do online.

Please. Any help would be appreciated. The same young man as before, if possible. We will, of course, pay the usual price.

Izuku pondered over the request a moment, but made a decision pretty quickly.

QAA - Private Message:

Admin: I’ve just received your request.

Admin: I’ll send the same person as last time. Are you free this afternoon? He is available now.

Overwatch452 is online

Overwatch452: Yes! Thank you so much! He can come over whenever he is free, my wife and I are both here. Hana is in her room.

Admin: Understood, he’ll be on his way shortly.

Admin: Also, you really don’t have to pay.

Overwatch452: We absolutely do! If nothing else, Hana has been much more lively since your boy started coming by. It’s nice to see her getting some social interaction.

Overwatch452: My wife also says that the young man needs to eat more, so he can expect leftovers when he gets here.

Admin: If you insist.

Admin: He just messaged me. He’ll be there in an hour.

Overwatch452: Thank you so much again. We deeply appreciate it.

====================

Izuku walked into the small suburban neighborhood just over an hour later. It was just starting to move into evening, the sun not quite setting yet but starting to get close. The house in front of him was a modest 2-story structure, painted a charming white. The lawn was horribly unkempt, and all of the curtains were drawn tightly closed. Walking up the driveway, Izuku looked straight up and waved at the small floating eyeball 20 or so feet above him. The eye vanished, and the door opened without a sound. Stepping out of the house and down the stairs, wearing two pairs of the fluffiest slippers he had ever seen, were two adults, probably in their late-30s. They shut the door ever-so-carefully, before practically tip-toeing their way down the driveway to him.

“Izuku-kun, thank you so much for coming again.” Both figures bowed deep in gratitude, but Izuku just put a hand on each shoulder and guided them back up, just like the last three times he was here.

“Nora-san, Kaien-san, please stop. We’ve been over this, I’m happy to come and help little Hana-chan. Tell me what’s going on.”

The father, Kaien-san, grimaced slightly. He was a tall man, with bag under his eyes and unkempt blond hair. His wife, Nora-san, was shorter, just a bit taller than Izuku, with frizzy black curls. He spoke in a whisper, just loud enough for Izuku to hear.

“She’s been feeling overstimulated again lately. We tried the earmuffs, but the rustling of trying to put them on was too much. I stubbed my toe yesterday and she passed out.”

Izuku internally grimaced at that. Yumika Hana, their daughter, was a sweet, caring person with one of the roughest quirks he’d ever seen. They called it Super Senses. Basically, it enhanced all of her senses to the maximum. Hearing, sight, touch, smell, and taste were all amplified far beyond human levels. The kickback? She couldn’t turn it off, and the quirk made her body able to handle the senses. So loud sounds and bright lights wouldn’t blind or deafen her like most people. Instead, she’d get so much sensory overload she’d just pass out after a while. It was so torturous Izuku wondered why they didn’t want to get rid of the quirk, but Hana herself was determined to make it work and Izuku was going to give her that chance, if nothing else. Her parents were some of the most caring and accommodating people he had ever met, but even the nicest of people had limits. Living without making a single sound had to be excruciating at times.

“I see. Well, I’ve been thinking on some new coping techniques we could try, and I have a few potential ideas for quirk practice. Can I go in?” Receiving nods from both parents, Izuku left his bag and shoes on the front porch, along with anything else that could make sound from in his pockets. After quintuple-checking his phone was on silent and turning the brightness all the way down, he slipped on an over-the-top-fluffy pair of house slippers and went inside. The house was modern, and would be rather nice, if it wasn’t for the plush carpet and blankets thrown everywhere and the dimness of the interior lights. Honestly, the entire house looked like there was a massive sleepover about to happen. Padding up the stairs towards the second floor, Izuku slipped on a thick medical mask over his mouth and whispered as quiet as he dared.

“Hana-chan, it’s Izuku. Can I come in?”

After waiting a few seconds, the bedroom door near the top of the stairs silently opened, and Izuku moved inside. One side-benefit to this gig was the massive improvements to his stealth from practicing so hard. The inside of the room was pitch-black, with plush carpet and soundproof padding everywhere, including the bed. Inside, a short girl of eight years old, wearing what was probably the softest nightgown known to man, was slowly padding her way back towards the small bed against the opposite wall. She had long black hair down to her knees, and sadly smelled like she hadn’t showered in awhile (Izuku couldn’t even imagine how painful that had to be for her). Over her ears was a pair of fuzzy earmuffs, but clearly she could hear him just fine. Her eyes had dark circles under them, and she looked exhausted. He couldn’t imagine when the last time she slept was outside of passing out.

It was basically pitch-black in here for Izuku, outside of a dim nightlight with a covering on it, casting the room in the barest of minimums to let a person see. All of the windows sported blackout curtains taped or bolted to the walls in some way.

“Hi, Izu Onii-san.” Hana smiled at him and gave a little wave.

Izuku’s heart melted at the sight. Despite her hardships, Hana-chan was still one of the most positive people, adults or otherwise, he had ever met.

“Hi Hana-chan. Ready for some practice today? I have a few things for us to work on.” Izuku whispered as quietly as he could. He couldn’t even hear himself at times, but Hana-chan nodded and gestured to her desk chair. Izuku got out his phone, making sure to point the screen away from her. It was time to get to work.

School had run late today, and Aizawa Shouta was hating every millisecond of it.

Even if he had ended up re-enrolling most of his class after their, frankly, pathetic showings on both the entrance exams and his first day quirk assessment, it didn’t make them any less of a group of problem children. They were getting close to that point in the year where they finally got used to their quirks, their costumes, and their hero names. They’d gone on their internships already, and a few of them had even waded through encounters with actual villains.

Simply put, it was the time of year when their egos inflated to nearly cartoonish levels.

Heroics training had run over today, unfortunately run by him this year, due to a spar between 3 students that had gotten so out of hand it had collapsed a building onto them. Luckily, nobody was horribly injured (at least until Recovery Girl got her cane out) but the rescue and cleanup took the better part of an hour. He had things to do! (Sleep, he had sleep to do). He had just finished filing the disciplinary reports for the day (three weeks of detention for all of them. Rather light, but that last super move was actually pretty inspired in his opinion) when his hero phone dinged. Not his teacher/personal UA phone, his Eraserhead phone. Shit. Picking it up and unlocking it with his thumbprint, a fairly unusual email greeted him, marked as urgent.

From: [email protected]

Subject: [URGENT] New Vigilante Case

Eraserhead,

This is Detective Tsukauchi, from Musutafu PD. We’ve worked together before, in passing, most notably on the Villain Factory Incidents.

The HPSC has elevated the case on a new local vigilante, and they operate both in an area and in a fashion you’d be very familiar with. As such, I am sending an official request through the Hero Network to have you brought in. Please come see me at the station tonight before your patrol. I’ll share the details with you in person.

Whatever time works, I’m always here.

Thank you,

-TN

Well, that was…. odd. It was rare for a police department to request the aid of a hero like this. And for a vigilante case? They were usually pretty low priority, unless they turned themselves into a public spectacle (he shivered as one of Pop Step’s songs played in his mind). Then again, it was probably his own experiences with successful vigilantes that dragged the detective to him in the first place. Mourning the loss of his evening nap, he gathered his things and started trudging towards the station.

Shouta strolled into the station just over an hour later, immediately ignoring the receptionist and going for the coffee machine he could sense was around the corner. An officer tried to stop him, but he just slipped past them, slowly moving until he was drinking a horrible cup of liquid life. After draining a cup and filling a second, he turned to find a somewhat-familiar detective waiting on him, with dark tired eyes and messy black hair.

“Eraserhead, thanks for coming on such short notice.”

He nodded. “Let’s just get it over with.”

The Detective led him back through a few halls and into an office. Tsukauchi brought out a manilla file folder and pushed it across the desk to him.

“This is all of the current information we have on the vigilante Null. He operates out of eastern Musutafu, mostly, but has been seen across the entire prefecture and into the adjacent one. His quirk allows him to erase the quirks of people he touches, occasionally permanently but usually not.”

Shouta’s eyes widened a bit at this. “Really? That’s…concerning. Even my quirk stops affecting a person when I blink. But his is permanent?”

Tsukauchi nodded. “Only one case, so not much of a sample size. Based on the few eyewitness reports we have, it’s touch-based, so the current guess is that if he touches you once, you lose your quirk until he touches you again. If he doesn’t get that chance, well…”

Shouta shuddered at the implications as he skimmed the file. It looks like his quirk worked on mutation types, too. No wonder the Commission wanted this guy so badly.

“So, we’re going for a typical arrest then? Why so much trouble bringing him in?” Shouta didn’t like to question the talent of the police. They worked incredible hard (when they weren’t corrupt bastards at least) and, frankly, hero society would be in shambles without them. Not that you could catch most daylight heroes saying that, though.

The detective sighed, bone tired. “He’s tricky and resourceful, and clearly very intelligent. He’s managed to evade our officers with everything from human shields to whoopie cushions.” He cringed, remembering that particular incident. Sansa may never recover his pride from that day. “We’re pretty sure he’s had professional training, too. The witness accounts say he’s pretty brutal in melee combat. Along with his quirk, well…we basically brought you in because he was a mini-you.”

Shout glared, and the detective put his hands up in surrender, but really he couldn’t even question the man’s logic. He sighed before draining the rest of his coffee and scooping up the papers. Patrol would be replaced with study and planning tonight, it seemed.

“Alright. I’ll get to work.” As he turned to leave, though, the detective stopped him.

“Just a moment, Eraserhead. One more thing.” Shouta raised a brow.

“It’s his age. His helmet, apparently new, has some kind of voice changer in it, but the two witnesses from just after his appearance say he sounds young. Based on his height, we’re guessing he’s a teenager. 16, maybe younger.”

Well, shit.

Chapter Text

Custom Settings:

[Display Settings]

[Audio Output Settings]

[HUD Settings]

“Display Settings.”

Display Settings:

Dark Mode: On

Transparency: 0%

Text Color: Blue

Text Font Size: 32

Eye-Tracking-Calibration: Top-Left Corner

Damage Indicator: On

Battery Indicator: On

Izuku hummed to himself as he poured through his helmet’s settings at long last. There was a lot in there! It almost made it worth the price! (He was going to avoid that sketchy man like his life depended on it.) He glanced at the window, seeing the sun already setting, and used Pull to close the curtains before it got too late. He wasn’t going out tonight. Instead, he wanted to dedicate his time to research based on the previous night’s patrol.

Null flung himself from rooftop to rooftop, silent as a ghost. It was freeing, in a way. Momentarily detaching yourself from the Earth until gravity reclaimed its hold on you. He had always wondered what it would feel like to fly through the night sky. Would it feel freeing, totally and completely, being liberated from the world altogether, or would it crush him under a blanket of loneliness, the isolation of floating through the void with nobody to stop you (nobody who cared)?

Never mind that, he had an appointment to keep.

Sliding down a drainage pipe on the side of a taller building, Null’s feet hit the ground, echoing through the alleyway. He really needed to work on his landings. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his skin buzzed.

He was being watched.

He slotted 2 quirks into place, just in case, but kept his posture relaxed, even as a quiet ‘click’ sounded next to him and a gun was pressed to the back of his helmet.

“An’ who the fuck’re you ‘sposed ta be?”

Izuku rolled his eyes. What a cliché line! And he could tell by the way the man’s hands shook he was clearly an amateur with the pistol he had. Not to mention he smelled like a one-man drug circus. Exactly who Izuku needed.

“Just here to do my laundry.”

The man scoffed, but the pistol retreated. “We got a drier you can use.”

After a moment, he was lead further into the alley and into a seemingly boarded-up door, into what looked like an abandoned laundromat.

“You got the money or what, squirt?”

Null crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Do you have the information I asked for?”

“Money. Now.” He waved the pistol around in the air. In response, Null uncrossed his arms, flexing his fingers at his sides and letting a little red light seep through his gloves, lighting up the corner of the room they stood in like a horror movie.

The man tensed. He was going to accidentally shoot himself if he wasn’t careful. After a moment, he sighed. “Fine, whatever just keep your quirk to yourself, ya brat. I got both things.” He dug out a small binder, a long-faded yellow, probably picked up from an elementary school dumpster.

“Trigger’s been all over the place lately. Hero-types haven’t caught on, yet.”

Izuku cocked his head. “I thought Trigger mostly disappeared like, 4 or 5 years ago.”

The man snorted. Gross. “‘At’s why you’re still green, eh? Course it didn’t! Just switched suppliers. Sales ‘ave been on the rise last few weeks. Someone’s plannin’ somethin’.”

He nodded. “Any locations on dealers?”

The man wagged a finger at him. “Ah-ah-ah. Money first, kid.”

Sighing, Null slowly reached into his left pocket before throwing a small wad of bills at the man. He flipped through it before scowling, tightening his grip on his gun. “This ain’t all of it.”

“And you haven’t given me all of my information yet. Deal with it.”

The man scowled deep, and for a second Null thought he’d be in for a fight, but after a moment he sighed and relaxed again.

“Fine. Here’s the file you were buggin’ me about. It’s the original so don’t lose it.”

Izuku nodded as the man kicked the binder across the floor to him, before picking it up. In return, he tossed another, much larger, wad of cash at the man before turning to leave. Over his shoulder, he could hear the man flipping through the money, before he spoke once again. “Not sure what the fascination with those freaks is, anyways. Best just to let ‘em disappear, I say. But whateva floats ya boat.”

Izuku slammed the door hard enough to crack the frame.

Researching on his phone was difficult, but this wasn’t exactly something he could research at the library. Maybe he should invest in a laptop eventually….

Putting that thought aside for later, Izuku flipped open the yellow binder he had received to the first page. The papers were crinkled and creased, somewhat, like they’d been stuffed in someone’s pocket at some point. They likely had, now that he thought about it. It was about 3 pages worth of information, with some supplemental pictures and transcriptions of interviews.

Name: Nashi Iruka

Age: 28

Quirk: None

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Black

Status: Archived

It was a missing person’s report. Specifically, it was a missing person’s report for a woman who Izuku suspected was connected to a string of disappearances in the area over the last year. Moving through the other files he’d managed to get his hands on, the cases seemed completely unrelated. All different ages, both male and female targets, and none of them had almost any common characteristics whatsoever. But he had a hunch, this gut feeling that they were connected, but he just couldn’t figure out how! The infuriating part was that the police department had already closed Nashi’s case, declaring it cold and unsolvable.

They just didn’t want to look for her because she was quirkless.

It bothered him in ways he could barely tolerate. He knew, oh how he knew, that the world wasn’t fair! If you didn’t fit into society’s perfect-little-mold for heroism, if you didn’t have the perfect, flashy, destructive, stupid quirk! And gods-forbid you have a useless quirk, or a weird quirk, or a scary-looking mutation, or a so-called villainous quirk. What the heck did that even MEAN?!

And then there were the quirkless.

Izuku was more than familiar with how they were treated. That’s why, despite the power he could hold at his fingertips, he almost never kept the powers that he stole. That’s why Null would never be anything more than a plucky vigilante with an erasure quirk. That’s why Nashi’s case was now personal.

If society had given up on her, he’d just go and find her himself.

After more than ten years as a hero, Shouta could not be more done with Trigger.

Quirk-enhancing drugs were legal in America, in small doses, but their quirk laws were basically good luck, figure it out yourself! Japan’s quirk laws lay on the other side of that spectrum, but both were equally irrational in his opinion. You don’t need drugs to improve your quirk when you could just train it yourself. That’s just lazy. Shouta was a lot of things, and he may nap more than the average cat, but if there’s one thing he was not, it was lazy.

Trigger was a bit different than your run-of-the-mill drug, though. It didn’t just get you high, and didn’t just enhance your quirk. It did both at once, while also making the person angry and impulsive. And that didn’t even cover the potential side-effects and mutations.

He pondered this, hating his life, as his capture weapon wrapped around the base of a fire escape some twenty feet up. Pulling on it, he flipped up and over his latest encounter: a triggered-up villain with a cow quirk who seemed intent on goring him. Landing on his feet back on the empty road, the villain spun around, bloodshot eyes locking onto his before he charged back down the road. In a completely straight line. Again

Shouta hated idiots.

Wanting to wrap this up as soon as possible, Shouta set into a run directly at his attacker, who recoiled at the action. Using the brief imbalance of his opponent, he wrapped his capture scarf around the man’s horns before whipping his head to the side. Given his intoxicated status, heavy center of gravity, and overall bad coordination, he went down like a sack of bricks. Only minutes later, after a quick message, a police cruiser (of sufficient size) had come and collected the man, taking Shouta’s statement at the same time. Taking out one of the legal form templates from his utility belt, Shouta completed his paperwork on site within a few minutes. It was a simple encounter, with a clear motive, plenty of tangible evidence, and no property damage. So basically Shouta’s favorite kind of case, nice and efficient as all things should be.

Giving a nod to the officers as they took the papers and villain on their way, Shouta checked his phone and decided this was as good a time as any to head home. He didn’t have a particular route, but wound and crept through various streets and alleyways, sometimes skipping them to go over buildings entirely. It was hard to tail someone if they didn’t even know which way they were going. After some time, he adjusted his course, taking the long but safe way home. Creeping in the back of his apartment building, he slinked into the elevator and hit the button for the eighth floor, still not fully relaxing even after the doors closed (heroes had been killed at home before, in that moment where they think they can finally relax). He rode in tense silence, before a chime released him onto his floor and he found his way to the correct door. Silently unlocking the door with his key, he quickly moved into the living room, kicking off his shoes at the entrance, waiting.

Tap-tap-taptaptapTAP-

His capture scarf shot out from both ends, wrapping around the two small forms that had darted out at him to attack. Leaning down, he let out a tired sigh and spoke with a whisper.

“You’re both so, so bad. Every night you attack me, but Nemuri is apparently a-okay. Little bastards.” He scowled at his two cats, now having the time of their lives trying to murder his capture weapon, getting themselves further tangled in it. One was orange with bright green eyes, while the other was solid black and missing an eye. Missy and Demon, respectively.

A soft groan and some rustling caught his attention as he released the fur gremlins with a flick of his wrist. His husband stood up from the couch, stretching and yawning so wide Shouta was worried his jaw would pop off. Blonde hair was half-fallen out of a messy bun, and his glasses were nowhere to be seen. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a black shirt with the word ‘pants’ on it (oh how he hated those shirts). You’d never think someone so brightly colored and fashion savvy during the day would dress so dull at home.

“Zashi. I keep telling you it’s illogical to try and wait up for me on the couch. You could just go to bed.”

Hizashi yawned again, before smiling at him sleepily. “But Shooo, then I can’t greet you at the door when you come home!”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “Technically you didn’t. The cats did first.”

“Little bastards.”

“That’s what I said.”

Hizashi snickered, before moving towards him. Shouta pulled off his capture scarf and threw it onto a hook on the wall to his right, just before his husband pulled him into a tender hug. Hizashi did this every night. He’d wait up on the couch for him, fall asleep early, wake up when he arrived home, and hug him at the door. It was his way of saying he missed him without risking using his quirk in the dead of night, and his way to make sure Shouta wasn’t injured.

It was thoughtful. It was sweet. It was considerate.

“Disgusting.”

Hizashi chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Welcome home, you grinch. How was patrol?”

Shouta rolled his shoulders out, moving to the kitchen to grab a snack before bed. “It was fine. Mostly uneventful. Found more trigger, but no dealer. Again.”

Hizashi nodded. He always looked like he wanted to speak, but didn’t. Truthfully, his quirk control was immaculate, one of the best even among pros, but it was a habit engrained from childhood. Plus, Shouta wasn’t much of a talker, so Hizashi usually let him get all of his talking done up front so he could relax. He was more of a listener, anyways.

“We’ve found seven different Triggered villains over the last two weeks, but no dealers. We know the drugs are being sold close by, Trigger doesn’t have much of a shelf-life, but we just can’t seem to nail down where. It’s really frustrating.” Shouta grabbed a jelly pack (apple, he noted) and plopped onto the couch. Hizashi sat down too, leaning his head against Shouta’s shoulder.

“Any word on your little vigilante problem?”

Shouta shook his head. “Nothing, yet. Apparently he’s out pretty irregularly, but since it’s been a few days since anyone’s spotted him, he’ll probably show up soon.”

(1 week later)

It had taken a lot of late patrols, a decent amount of what was probably considered stalking, and some subtle quirk use, but Izuku had finally, finally, gotten a lead on Nashi’s case. After asking around (mugging a mugger) in the neighborhood where she lived, he’d managed to get in touch with her previous landlord. They were a middle-aged woman that screamed ‘show me your manager’ at a glance but was actually a bit nicer than she looked. She’d been renting to Nashi for a few years, stating that she ‘felt bad about the shit hand she’d been dealt’ before she suddenly stopped paying rent. It turned out the police had never even investigated the premises, or told the landlord that her resident had gone missing. Izuku was the one who had to tell her.

The woman was sad, although whether it was about the missing person or the lack of rent, Izuku wasn’t sure.

“Do you mind if I go take a look around the apartment?”

The woman eyed him up and down. He was in a (kind of) new vigilante outfit tonight. Which really meant that he bought new clothes and padding that weren’t smokey/full of holes.

“You some kinda pervert? Why would I let you into someone else’s apartment?”

“I’ll give you last month’s rent that you missed.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Two months.”

“One month and I use the door instead of kicking it down.”

Eyes narrowed further.

“You’re a little shit, aren’t you? Fine.”

Handing over the money, the woman lead him up to the second floor and produced her key, opening the way to the darkened abode within. Taking a few steps inside, signs of a struggle became immediately apparent. Clothes, blankets, and pillows were torn and thrown around the small studio like a tornado had come through. One of the walls had what looked like claw marks on it, and on closer inspection, the lock on the door was clearly broken on the inside. Taking a few photos on his phone, he turned back to the landlord.

“Do you know who could have done this?”

She shook her head. “Nashi-chan was pretty non-confrontational, for obvious reasons. Didn’t have many friends, or at least never brought anyone around.”

Izuku tapped his chin, before an idea came to him. Flipping the lights off, he activated the blacklight filter on his helmet. Immediately the room was bathed in shades of dark purple to him, with occasional splotches of color that represented…well, something. He didn’t actually know outside of crime shows he pirated at the library. He was really just looking for anything unusual-oh.

Glancing at towards the left side of the room, towards the bathroom, were several white glowing streaks that went inside. Moving further in, Izuku poked his head in the door, and saw a scene straight out of a horror movie. White splashes went across the entire room, including the ceiling, and coalesced in an area near the corner, on the floor. Turning the filter back to normal, Izuku flicked the lights on, and felt himself gag when he realized those splotches were patches of blood. It looked like someone had been pretty badly injured in here, then dragged out across the floor.

Moving to the corner, Izuku patted around on the floor around the largest blood stain, looking for something, anything, that might give him a clue as to what happened or where Nashi could have been taken. Flipping on his blacklight again, he did another scan of the area, until he noticed some odd-looking smudges in the corner. It wasn’t until he twisted his head and squinted that he could make out a few sloppy letters beneath the rest of the blood, the shape of the word dragged along, likely along with their writer as she was taken.

‘Takashi’

Well, it was as good a start as any.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Threads Abound

Mina was bored.

School was never her favorite thing to begin with, at least not the educational parts of it, but lately it had just gotten worse. Her parents had moved them out of Chiba at the end of last year (away from the only two friends she had) because her old school apparently ‘coddled her too much’ and ‘she kept getting into trouble’. Her record was spotless! It was just-

“Ashido! Pay attention or go I’ll have to give you detention…again.”

She groaned internally as several of the children around her chuckled. It had all started during her second year of middle school. She had been out with her (only) friends, hoping to just grab a bite to eat and maybe do some karaoke, when this giant villain had shown up! Okay, maybe he wasn’t actually a villain, but he was like 12 feet tall and towering over two young girls. PLUS his hand damaged the building he was leaning against, and property damage was a crime, so?

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t her fault, or that she did everything she was supposed to do, was taught to do. The police arrived and immediately yanked her into the back of a car, accusing her of ‘riling up the villain’ or some shit. They’d driven her home and presented her to her parents, who then proceeded to ban her from leaving the house entirely! She didn’t even DO anything but guide a suspicious man towards the police station. But that wasn’t the end of it.

‘You cause too much trouble, wherever you go! That’s it! We’re moving somewhere with less people so you won’t attract so much attention!’

‘Why did you have to go and stand out so much? Like we don’t have enough problems already…’

She’d been here for about 2 months now, and didn’t even remember the name of this shitty prefecture! Both of her parents worked from home, so moving wasn’t an issue for them. They almost never left the house, and they also looked fucking normal, so they had no idea how terrible of a place they’d put her in!

There were only ten people in her new class, and only about 150 in the entire school. Not a single one of them had a mutation quirk. That was fine! She could deal with that! Even with such a small population, it was unlikely that everyone here was an asshole. And they weren’t! Sure, she got the regular doses of mutant hate from a chunk of the students (and a good amount of the teachers), but a few of the students were passingly nice to her.

Just by looking at her, you’d think that her quirk was ‘alien’ or something. Pink skin, pink hair, black sclera and bright yellow eyes with a matching set of asymmetric crooked horns atop her head. Sure, people called her creepy once in awhile, and sure, she’d spooked a few people (and her parents) because her eyes ‘glowed in the dark’ whatever that meant. But that was okay! She’d rather just call herself ‘brightly pink’! It would’ve made her into a sideshow attraction. A novelty. She could deal with that, really!

But that had nothing to do with her quirk. At all.

She wasn’t sure what god-buddha-demon-WHATEVER was doling out quirks, but apparently it didn’t like her, because on top of looking like a god-damned space person, when she was five she started dripping acid from her hands. And not just any acid, STRONG acid. The turn-a-person-into-a-smoothie kind of acid. The that-should-only-be-possible-in-cartoons kind of acid. She could control the strength of it a fair bit, and it almost never came out when she didn’t want it to, but just seeing it was enough for some people.

It was enough for her parents.

Her mother, a tan-skinned woman with brown hair, had a quirk called Plastic, while literally let her turn her body into plastic at will. Her father, pale with blonde hair, didn’t have to blink, ever.

Her birth alone almost caused a divorce, her father so sure that he’d been cheated on. Even after five paternity tests, their marriage never fully recovered. A ‘random mutation’ the doctor said. It apparently happened sometimes, with odds around one in ten-thousand. Lucky her, right?

Wrong.

Her father never quite looked at her, always from the side. It was pretty obvious he hated her, but was ‘raising her’ (with pretty fat fucking quotes) out of obligation. Her mother was…mostly absent. To Mina, it looked like she just wanted her husband back, and Mina was in the way.

School was worse. Once the other kids found out what her quirk did, they were scared of her. Mina would wake in the dead of night sometimes, hearing the terrified voices of the other kids screaming when she got too close to them, or bumped into them during gym class.

When was the last time Mina had gotten a hug? She didn’t remember.

Her new classmates weren’t exactly rays of sunshine about her acid, either. Even if she never used it, she was asked (told) to announce it on the first day of class when she transferred in. The teacher’s tone was clear, ‘you are a threat to the others and they should know about it’. So, she was once again back to being ridiculed and kept at arms’ length (literally). She just had to get through one stupid year of this. Then she could apply to a hero course program, move out of her parents’ shitty house, and never look back.

BRRRIIINNGGG!

But first, math class….

She sighed.

======================================================

Tonight was the night, Izuku could feel it.

Null launched himself across the ever-familiar rooftops of his hometown, going out just a bit further than usual. The few weeks had been stressful, but his effort was finally starting to pay off. After 3 botched drug busts, a small house fire, and a well-timed interruption of an alleyway fistfight, he finally had a lead on one of the Trigger dealers in the area.

A man named Takashi.

Apparently, he operated pretty quietly, vetting his clients by some unknown criteria and usually not meeting people directly. He usually distributed his Trigger through dead drops that changed locations frequently enough to throw police, and him, off of his trail. But not tonight. He’d finally gotten some good information. A new shipment of supplies had come in (he didn’t know what Trigger was actually made of, but it sure sounded like chemicals) and Takashi had to be there to pick it up. It was coming via truck on a road just outside of town, so if he waited for it to show up, he could stop the shipment, question Takashi about Nashi’s whereabouts, and put everyone behind bars before bedtime!

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, though. First he had to get into position. It had taken him a few hours to stealthily weave his way to the outskirts of Musutafu, 45 minutes to find the rumored delivery location (a series of abandoned houses on the side of the road), and finally 20 more minutes to find his preferred hiding spot. He hunkered down on one of the roofs, in between an old brick chimney and the branch of a long-overgrown tree.

He thought he had given himself plenty of time, but after only another 10 or 15 minutes (13 and a half, but who’s counting) a small group of 6 people, all in dark clothing, began to litter the space around him. He couldn’t really make out details from here, but one of these people was likely Takashi.

Did he strike now? Or wait? It wouldn’t be too difficult to take them out if he caught them by surprise. But on the other hand, if the shipment arrived and cops were swarming, the whole operation could go to ground…

Best to wait for the truck, then.

He wondered what quirks they had…

No! Bad Izuku!

He kept himself occupied with theorizing about their quirks and playing with his helmet for another hour, until eventually one of the people perked up. They spoke with a high-pitched, chirpy sort of voice, and Izuku could scarcely see some mutant features around their head. Flipping on his helmet’s somewhat limited night vision, they looked to have the head of a bat.

“Truck incoming, boss. Three blocks.”

One of the larger men, wearing a leather jacket and heavy cap, stood and spoke out in a deeper, more gravelly voice. “Alright, positions.”

That must be Takashi. He’s supposed to be the one in charge, after all.

The people down below all moved, standing in a spread out semi-circle in the lawn of the house he was hiding on top of. If the bat-mutant person really did have enhanced hearing, he’d have to be extra careful. If he was going to move in, he’d take that one out first.

Not too long after, headlights began to light up the street, and a large cargo truck pulled to a stop just in front of the house. Izuku squinted at the harsh light, flipping his night vision off. As three of the goons moved towards the back of the truck, Izuku got a good look at Takashi, as he stepped towards the driver-side door, which had just opened. Over 6 feet tall at a guess, with a strong-looking physique and absolutely no hair. He lacked any kind of hair poking out from under his cap, no facial hair to speak of, and no eyebrows. Izuku noticed some kind of smudge poking from beneath the cap on his forehead. Maybe a tattoo or something? Around his mouth, the skin of his face was an angry, patchy red and purple. It looked terrible.

Izuku had seen scars like that before. This man had been burned badly by something, probably more than once. Was it a quirk or an unfortunate past? He supposed he might find out by the end of this.

The rear door of the truck slammed upwards as Takashi and the driver spoke in hushed tones, too quiet for Izuku to hear from this distance. He toyed with the idea of getting closer, but Bat-Guy seemed to be on lookout, so that was out.

Just a little longer….

They were efficient, he’d give them that. It only took them about five minutes to unload several large crates off the back of the truck. Now that the product couldn’t be carted off to god-knows-where, it was about time to get started.

Izuku took a deep, centering breath, and pulled on a quirk.

He usually tried not to use any obvious quirks in combat, but this one came in handy. Helium was a quirk that made his body as light as helium, which was much lighter than air. If not for his clothes, he’d float into the upper atmosphere and die, but with his vigilante equipment covering his entire body, he had essentially just cut his weight down to a few pounds.

He leapt off the roof, momentarily soaring through the air before he let the quirk go and dropped like a rock. 

Right onto poor Mr. Bat-Guy.

Metal-toed boots slammed the poor man into the ground, knocking him unconscious. One down, six to go.

Trying to keep surprise on his side, he reached into a pocket on his belt, pulling three small orbs out of it along with a lighter. Flicking it quickly, he thanked his lucky stars when the party-store smoke bombs lit on the first try, and slammed them onto the ground.

“Get him you idiots! We don’t have time for this!”

Welp, surprise over.

As multi-colored smoke filled the air in spurts, Null ducked and wove around the two men that charged him. He flinched back as a sharp shhrrrring sound pierced the air, and a glint of metal barely missed his leg. Stumbling back, one of the thugs’ hands had turned into a curved blade, glinting in the low light. As he tried to regain his footing, his vision twisted, and he found himself being thrown several feet through the air as a sharp impact hit his back. Hitting the ground and rolling back to his feet, he had no time to spare as a fist slammed directly into his helmet before pulling back several meters.

Scythe-hand, and some kind of superspeed.

Superspeed shook his hand out, knuckles already swelling from impacting Null’s helmet (just how tough WAS this thing?). “He’s got gear, boss! Might be a hero!”

Takashi grinned and kicked the last sputtering smoke bomb away, into the road. “That ain’t no hero. Look at him! He’s just some stupid kid. Why don’t you get outta here before you die playing hero, brat?”

Why does it feel like every bad guy in Japan gets their lines from cheesy American westerns?

Izuku stood up, analyzing his situation, and slotted two different quirks into place before turning to look at Takashi.

“Nashi Iruka. Where is she?”

Takashi’s eyebrows raised, before settling in a cruel smirk.

“So, you’re the one who’s been buggin’ my boys this week, huh? Tell ya what kid, I’ll make ya a deal. I’ll take ya right to that quirkless waste of space, long as you do somethin’ for me first.”

Izuku was not impressed, but figured he’d humor the man for some information.

“And what would that be?”

“DIE!”

BANG!

A sharp impact to his helmet threw him on his back. That had hurt! It felt like he pulled a muscle in his neck, and his head was ringing. Did…did they just shoot him? Was his helmet bulletproof?!

“You fuckin’ morons! Stop hitting his head! Shoot him in the chest this time.”

Rolling to his feet, reeling, Izuku took stock. One of the thugs had a pistol pointed at him, while another had shed their shirt entirely, revealing a chest and arms covered in what looked like sharp porcupine quills.

This wasn’t good. Maybe, just maybe, he had been so invested in finding Nashi that he had forgotten that he wasn’t very good in one-versus-seven combat in a wide open space. Oops.

Plus Ultra? Maybe?

Gritting his teeth, Izuku focused Pull as hard as he could. Of all his quirks, it’s the one he’d had the most practice with, and he found that he could do a lot with it if he tried. The ache in his head increased to a solid migraine, but as the thug went to pull the trigger to his gun again, he looked confused when he found it completely stuck in place. As he started checking the safety and smacking the gun, the porcupine guy unleashed his own payload: a volley of VERY sharp-looking quills. Izuku dove and rolled to the side, but as he popped back to his feet a superspeed-backed fist slammed into his gut, sending him sprawling again and probably bruising a rib. Luckily he was padded, or that would have hurt a lot more. The man in question was rubbing his hand in pain.

Superspeed but no durability to match. That’ll be helpful.

Keeping his focus on the gun, Izuku took off in a dead sprint towards the shooters, best to take out the ranged options. He dodged another set of quills before Superspeed was back on him, but he was ready. He’d feel bad about this later.  As the man with the pistol smacked his gun again to get it working, Izuku remembered the first rule of gun safety he learned online.

Never point the barrel at anything you didn’t want to shoot.

As Superspeed sped around Izuku and pummeled him, he switched his target of Pull from the trigger of the pistol to the running man’s shoes. Several things happened at once.

Pistol Guy accidentally shot Porcupine Guy in the leg.

Superspeed guy tripped, probably running close to 70 miles per hour.

Who then subsequently crashed right into Pistol guy, sending them both sprawling with bruises and probably broken bones.

He ran up to Porcupine Guy and punched his lights out for good measure.

Four down. Three to go.

Spinning on his heel, he lashed out with a kick at Blade Guy (he needed better naming conventions for villains, but he was busy!) and hit him in the chest. In retaliation, the man’s bladed hand came swinging down across his chest, cutting a gash in his hoodie. His chest stung, and he just hoped he wouldn’t need stitches.

A foot came from behind him. Although he got an arm up to block, the size and strength of the attacker still sent his smaller frame sprawling into the dirt. The man got out a large hunting knife and twirled it in his hand.

“Don’t know who you are, kid, but you need to learn not to interfere in other peoples’ business.”

He stomped his foot down, and Null just barely rolled out of the way in time. Scythe-guy swung his hand down again, nearly taking his arm off, but he rolled further away. Takashi ran forwards, stabbing down with his knife as Null tried to get to his feet. Putting his arms up to catch the larger man’s he was once again forced to the ground and onto his back, desperately trying to hold back Takashi’s hands while he tried to plunge his knife into Izuku’s chest.

Definitely not good.

“How’s about this? You come in here, spit all over my operation. Maybe you deserved to be spat on.”

What? Is that some kind of metaphooooooooooo- “AAAAAH”!!!!

Izuku couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from his lungs as Takashi swished something in his mouth before spitting, and a glob of molten-hot lava splattered onto his shoulder.

His hoodie and padding immediately melted as the lava started burning directly into the flesh on his left shoulder. It was raw agony. His vision went white with pain and he lashed out without thinking about it.

When he came to, he and Takashi’s positions were reversed, the knife nowhere to be seen. The larger man was breathing heavy, and Izuku’s palm was directly on his face, smashed into his nose. Whipping his head to the side, Scythe man looked shocked, halfway between fight or flight, holding his blade out in front of him.

“You’re…fuck, you’re that kid! The quirk-eraser! Give Takashi back his quirk you little shit!”

Izuku stood up, adrenaline somewhat masking the pain in his shoulder, and took a step towards the man, who quickly took his own step back.

“Make me.” He flexed his hand, letting red light crackle along his arm. The man turned on his heal and bolted, only to stumble back onto his ass as a grey length of…cloth? Wrapped around his torso, restraining him.

“Nobody move!”

Standing next to the truck (and apparently the unconscious form of the driver that Izuku had forgotten about) was a man. He was dressed in all black, with long hair and yellow goggles masking his eyes. Around his neck was a long scarf, that was currently lashed around Scythe-guy. The man looked up at Izuku, and as his hair raised from his shoulders Izuku felt this concerning feeling of emptiness. Like something was…missing?

Wait…

My quirks! I can’t feel them at all! Shit, those goggles! He’s Eraserhead!

This was bad, this was super bad. Eraserhead was basically Null’s worst nightmare. Similar quirk that worked at a distance, better gear, and martial arts skills better than his in every single way. Izuku wouldn’t last a minute. He turned on his voice changer, setting it to a deeper, more distorted setting. Time to dust off a skill he rarely had to use.

Bullshitting.

“Eraserhead! That is you, right? What’re you doing all the way out here?”

The man’s glare seemed to deepen, and his quirk was still active. How long did it last, though? There had to be some kind of limit to it.

“These men are suspected to be a part of a drug smuggling operation. I was sent here to arrest them. What I want to know is why you’re here? Null, right? This seems a bit outside your usual patrol route.”

Izuku chuckled, rubbing the back of his head and attempting to appear nonchalant. Best the man underestimates him as much as possible. Smoke and embers curled off of his ruined shoulder, but for the moment he tried his best to ignore it.

“Well, these guys were selling drugs! In MY neighborhood, no less! Like I’m gunna let them continue being so rude!”

“Uh-huh.”

Police sirens were now visible down the street. A lot of them. Time to wrap this up.

“You look like you have your hands full with this.”

“I don’t.”

“Is that right?”

Using every iota of stealth he’d learned from going over to Hana-chan’s house, Izuku slowly, slowly, crept back towards Takashi’s body, not taking an eye off of Eraserhead.

“How old are you, anyways? You look like you could be one of my students.”

There was absolutely no way he was answering that question.

“Students? What are you, a teacher? What do you teach?”

“Heroics. At UA.”

That actually surprised him. “Really?”

The man nodded. “Really. You seem to have some potential, kid. Give this up, you could probably be a pretty effective hero after some training.”

Izuku frowned. “I don’t think so.”

Eraserhead frowned, and Izuku relaxed his posture, trying to make it look like he forgot the situation, and had gotten distracted by talking. Eraserhead’s hair fell back around his neck, and Izuku felt his quirks return to him. 

“Why do you say that? You wouldn’t be the first.”

Izuku grimaced. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now.

“I…it’s…I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

Izuku should be leaving now. Why wasn’t he leaving?

“I…I don’t-”

“STOP! DON’T MOVE! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!”

Bright headlights flooded the yard. If not for the auto-dimming in his helmet, Izuku would have been temporarily blinded.

Eraserhead shielded his eyes with an arm, and Izuku felt elation as his quirks returned full force. He’d pay for it later, but he slammed Pull into place as fast as he could, wincing from the effort, before ripping Takashi’s phone from his pocket and into his hand. Turning on his heel, he set off in a dead sprint towards the house, feeling his quirks disappear again after a moment.

“Null, wait!”

He almost hesitated, but he had a woman out there who needed him. Society refused to help her, but Izuku refused to give up. He threw his weight to the side, kicking off the side wall of the house and using the height to scramble over the back fence, into an adjacent alleyway. Now out of sight, he felt his quirks return (was it sight based or did Eraserhead just blink?) and pulled on Helium again, using it to make a quick escape to the rooftops. As he fled, he heard the hero clamber onto the roof next to his, and the sound of rapid footfalls as he gave chase. This man was fast!

Pouring on the speed Izuku threw himself from rooftop to rooftop with reckless abandon, dodging a few stray lashes of the hero’s capture weapon. He knew that up ahead there was a pretty steep drop towards a bridge. It was too high for a normal person to leap from, but with Helium he could probably make it down without breaking anything. Probably.

He turned sharply towards the building in question, practically feeling the moment Eraserhead worked out his plan in his head. His voice rang out from behind (but close WAY too close), somewhat panicked.

“Null, stop! Wait! Let’s just talk!” The hero erased his quirks again, but strangely, Helium stayed slotted in place. Interesting…

Izuku turned and threw himself from the building in a dive. The wind whipped past him, and his body almost started rolling from the wind resistance, but after a split second he hit the ground and rolled, dropping his quirks as he did so. He tried to pop to his feet but ended up crashing heavily in a heap. No time to waste though. Scrambling to a standing position, turned around and looked up.

Eraserhead was standing atop the building he leapt from, some five stories above. His goggles were pulled onto his forehead, and with his helmet Izuku could see them blown wide with concern.

It might be easier if he thinks I’m dead, but…I really don’t want him to think he accidentally killed someone. That’s…that wouldn’t be right, even if it makes things harder for me.

Whipping out his phone, Izuku turned on the flashlight, blinking it a few times in the hero’s direction. His eyes immediately snapped to it, and as they did Izuku turned the phone upwards to give eraser a view of his helmet (he probably looked creepy, but eh). He gave the hero a sheepish wave, before turning the light off and disappearing into the shadows once again. The coil of guilt in his chest unwound at how the man’s shoulders visibly slumped with relief.

It was weird, though. It almost looked like he cared. The man must be a really good actor, or he was just really attached to his work.

Well, that was fine. Izuku was attached to his work, too. He had plenty to do, now.

Chapter Text

It was the next day that Eraserhead, looking as exhausted as Naomosa had seen him, practically dragged himself into his office. He was nursing a cup-no, an entire pot of coffee in his left hand while the other was holding onto various papers.

The man sat there, silently, as Naomosa waited for him to speak.

A minute went by. Then three. He took a big gulp of scalding hot coffee and didn’t even blink.

“Oh for god’s sakes, Aizawa. Get on with it already.”

The man grinned, maniacally, but the face broke with a deep sigh.

“We busted seven Trigger dealers last night. Actual dealers, one of them at a fairly high place in the operation.”

The detective quirked a brow, impressed and surprised at the hero’s efficiency. “How high-up?”

Aizawa shrugged. “I’d say middle-management.”

“So an improvement, but nothing world-breaking.”

“Exactly.”

He leaned forwards. “So why deliver your report in person? There’s something else, right?”

Aizawa nodded. “I ran into Null.”

Well now he was awake. “You actually saw him? What happened?”

Aizawa grimaced. An odd expression for him. “He had taken down most of the smugglers by the time I got there. I didn’t see him fight much, but based on the injuries of those involved, his fighting style is as brutal as people say.”

“Did you see him use his quirk at all?”

He shook his head. “No, but based on what I saw he had just finished using it on the leader of the little operation, a man named Takashi. His quirk was Lava Spit.”

Naomosa cocked an eyebrow. “‘Was’? Did it not come back?”

“No. I’m starting to think our earlier theory was correct in that he needs to touch the person a second time to un-erase their quirk. I think my presence there prevented it. Takashi was pretty upset once he came to.”

“I assumed Null fled the scene?”

Aizawa raised his free hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “He was injured, and clearly scared, but he talked to me for a minute. His helmet does have a voice-changer, by the way.” Naomosa nodded, starting to write things down and add to the report the hero had set on his desk. “I told him…that he could be a hero, if he hung up the helmet and got some proper training and turned himself in. He seemed unsure, unsteady, and I think he was probably already tired and injured to some extent.”

“What do you mean? Couldn’t you tell?”

“With the lighting as bad as it was, not really. His shirt was torn in a few places, and it looked like he had a burn on his shoulder, but he was still able to outpace me at the end. Officers came and spooked him, so he took off.”

“What do you mean he ‘took off’? If he’s as young as we think he is, how the heck did he outrun you?”

“He’s resourceful and crafty like they say. He lulled me into a false sense of security by half-answering my questions. They were partially meant to manipulate him into getting distracted, but the kid just gave me a taste of my own medicine. Used my reaction to the police lights to bolt. By the time I got to the roofs, I was already losing him. Then…”

“Then what?”

Aizawa sighed. “He got to the end of the block near Ratchet Street. With the bridge?”

The detective paled. “Don’t tell me…”

Aizawa shook his head. “He’s fine, I think. He did jump, but once I stopped and started searching, he shined his light up at me. Even let me see his helmet before he disappeared again. I don’t know how he survived that fall, even I’d break both my legs attempting it. He might have some kind of support gear we aren’t aware of. Regardless, the kid’s still kicking. And I do mean kid, based on his height and mannerisms. He’s most likely a teenager, although I could place him anywhere between 16 and 21, being generous.”

Naomosa nodded along, flipping through the rest of the paperwork before Aizawa continued.

“One thing I don’t understand is why he was there in the first place.”

Naomosa nodded. “I agree. Usually, vigilantes start up because they want to stop local crime, or use their quirks freely, but this kid barely uses his quirk, and while he does focus a lot on local crime, a drug smuggling ring outside his normal jurisdiction doesn’t really fit his image thus far.”

Aizawa finished the pot of coffee before setting it down and crossing his arms. “So what do we do, then?”

“We keep looking. Move some of your patrol routes into his area. Between this and the Trigger itself, we’ll have our hands full.”

More late nights…yay…

Light from the outside assaulted Izuku’s eyes, rousing him from a deep sleep born of pure exhaustion.

He had fallen asleep (more like passed out) in his full costume, helmet and all. He smelled like smoke and blood, there was dirt everywhere, he had a small puddle of drool in his helmet and-

Holy crap everything hurts!

Pulling his helmet off (he’d clean it later) and tossing it to the side, he tried to slowly take stock of his body. His neck ached something fierce, almost like a pinched nerve, but whether that was from sleeping in his helmet or from last night’s encounter was a tossup. His ankle felt swollen, possibly a sprain from his high-diving antics to escape Eraserhead, and then running all the way back to the apartment. His shoulder-

“AH!” He clamped his hand over his mouth to avoid alerting anyone outside to his yelp as he gently prodded the skin on his left shoulder, where Takashi had spit literal lava onto him! That certainly explained all the horrific burns on his mouth. His mouth may be lava-proof but his skin certainly wasn’t. Sighing but deeming his shirt another loss, he tried to Pull one of his several knives to cut his shirt off, but hissed when the attempted action caused a horrible spike of pain in his chest.

He’d pulled on his quirks too quickly, and definitely overused Pull. Slotting quirks into place took energy, quirks were still physical abilities after all, and if he did it too fast he’d get quirk exhaustion in the form of strong chest pains. Time and heat would usually help but for now he was on his own. Not to mention his still-present migraine. Even if he put the quirk away the quirk overuse symptoms still lingered until he got proper rest (which was rare, if ever).

Sighing to himself for his own recklessness, he slowly, painfully, got to his feet and limped over to where he kept the scissors. Over the next five or so minutes, he cut his hoodie off, careful not to damage the padded vest underneath, before peeling that off too. Limping to the other side of the room, Izuku looked at himself in the mirror and cringed, hard.

He, to be fair, looked like absolute crap.

Messy hair and dark bags beneath his eyes. A very swollen ankle. A shallow but angry-red cut went across his chest horizontally. And his shoulder. Angry, dark red and blistered skin was prominent amongst patches of black char. Second to minor third degree then. He sighed; not like he knew Takashi had that kind of quirk. He should have targeted him first instead of Bat-Guy. Hindsight was 20/20, he supposed.

Moving towards the bathroom, Izuku fumbled around for his first aid kit, but was severely disappointed when he found the burn care compartment (yes he made one, yes he needed it, clearly) totally empty.

Crap. I never re-stocked it after that apartment fire. I’m glad Fuzzy is okay, but now I gotta go out and get some serious supplies before this gets infected.

Burns were no laughing matter. They had to be thoroughly cleaned or all sorts of health complications could pop up, from necrosis to heart problems. Changing out of his costume and into some regular, if ratty and a bit baggy, sweatpants, Izuku threw some gauze on his shoulder and slipped a very loose hoodie on top. It was a faded yellow, probably donated almost ten years ago, with a practically ancient ‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’ logo on it. He didn’t listen to the show very often (on account of not owning a radio), but when he caught it out on the town he rather enjoyed it. Present Mic was bubbly and loud, but also incredibly earnest and caring beneath all the pomp and fanfare.

He slipped some money and his phone into his pockets and emerged into sunlight for the first time in several weeks. He…didn’t really like going out in the day to begin with, but sometimes it was a cruel necessity. He wasn’t exactly nervous about being recognized as Null anymore, especially with his new helmet, but a ratty teenager walking around town during the day instead of going to school usually drew some unwanted attention. Walking with purpose and keeping his eyes straight ahead was usually enough to keep all but the nosiest of passers-by at bay.

As he walked, trying to absorb some much-needed vitamin D into his skin from the warm sun overhead, Izuku did his best to avoid bumping into anyone on the street while pondering his new quirk.

Getting a new permanent one was always a bit of an oddity to him. His quirk (the natural one, not the taken ones) always filled him with this underlying sense of giddiness when he kept a quirk. He assumed that was because he was using it for its actual intended purpose, even though he could give them back. It felt…well…

He felt complete.

He shuddered and tried to knock the thought away. Allowing that train of thought could turn bad pretty quickly, and Izuku didn’t want, didn’t deserve, to be greedy.

Where was he? Right, new quirk. If each quirk had a specific feel to it, Lava Spit, as he was so aptly calling it, felt as one might expect it to. It was warm and smooth, almost slick. He slowly, slowly pulled it into place, careful to keep his mouth shut as he walked, and felt both a warm feeling in his throat and a tingling sensation in his mouth. Both were faint, but it told Izuku that his insides were likely completely heat and fire resistant, but nothing on the outside of his body. He’d have to, gross as it sounded, practice spitting without getting it on him or anything he didn’t want to burn.

Putting the quirk away, Izuku gulped and, based on the lack of immolation, noticed that his saliva turned back into regular spit instantly. Small mercies.

Finally, he arrived at the pharmacy. It was one of the larger ones, which was necessary based on the quality and amount of supplies he would need. Not wasting any time, Izuku power-walked (or power-limped) to one of the rear aisles in the store, where most of the burn stuff was sitting next to cosmetics and makeup. Small basket in one hand, he slowly and methodically went about restocking his supplies, just as he had done the last few times he’d run low. The downside, though, was that there was only one brand of burn cream that didn’t smell super weird or leave his skin feeling all sticky, and it was on the top shelf.

Normally, he’d just hop and snag it, or use Pull when nobody was looking, but between injuries and quirk exhaustion those weren’t really good options. His eyes darted between his preferred brand and the other peasant brands, trying to decide if further spraining his ankle was worth the hassle, when-

“Here ya go, kiddo.”

Izuku jumped (and dang did that hurt his shoulder) as the good brand was suddenly held aloft in front of this face. Turning to look, the man next to him was tall, almost a full foot taller than him. He had messy blonde hair in a long ponytail down his back, and green eyes that crinkled with something that might have been amusement. The man was wearing black skinny jeans and, unbelievably, a well-worn gray t-shirt that had the kanji for the word ‘hat’ on it. Against his will, a quiet snort escaped Izuku’s nose, that shirt was absolutely hilarious, even if the deeper breath twinged his shoulder like everything else. Trying not to show his discomfort, he took the offered bottle and dropped it in his basket with a quiet ‘thanks.’

The man beamed. “No problem!” The smile lessened considerably a second later though. “You hurt, kiddo? You have a lot of burn remedies there.”

Outwardly he was calm, but inside Izuku grimaced hard. “Uh, n-no. I um, I’m just clumsy. Good to be prepared, you know?” Good lord he was bad at socializing out of costume.

The man absolutely did NOT buy that terrible excuse, as he leveled Izuku with an incredulous look. “You sure, bud? If you’re hurt, I could take you to the-”

“No! Uh, n-no t-thank you. I’m good, honest. Just need some cream and a night’s rest and I’ll be g-good as new!” Izuku chuckled nervously. This conversation needed to end before this man got all good-Samaritan on him.

This time, there was no half-hearted banter, the man just narrowed his eyes at him. “How bad is it?”

Izuku recoiled, backing up a step. “I-I-don’t-”

The man held up a finger, before disappearing around the corner of the aisle they were in. Izuku heavily debated bailing entirely to avoid this interaction, but he really needed this stuff, and there was no way he’d be able to pay and leave before this guy was done with whatever he had gone to find. He wondered if the man knew that, too.

True to his word, the man returned with a rattling bottle of something, probably pills.

“Bad burns can lead to swelling and, in the worst cases, heart issues and infection. These are the best over-the-counter painkillers they got. Take one or two a day along with the other stuff and you should be alright, yeah?”

Izuku’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s really thoughtful, thank you.” Inside, he cringed. There went a bit more of his budget, but he could really use the pain relief. The sooner he felt healed, the sooner he could get back out on patrol. Then again, he’d probably need a few nights to go through Takashi’s phone and another few to follow up on any leads it provided.

He sighed to himself. This was enough interaction for the day. With a small smile and nod, Izuku left to go pay for his things. The dull beep of the checkout scanner nearly lulling him to sleep, if not for the constant burning in his shoulder that kept him forcefully grounded in the moment. He grabbed his bags in one hand and made for the door, but stopped at the last minute for reasons he couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was over-tired, but he found his eyes seeking out that same man again, just moving up to one of the small self-checkout kiosks. He called out.

“I like your shirt, by the way!”

The man beamed, flashing Izuku a thumbs up before they went their separate ways.

Hizashi returned home after a rather…eventful trip to the store. His grumpy-for-life husband was curled up on the couch, a cat on each side, slowly marking away at papers he’d been avoiding for the last week or so. He certainly didn’t blame him for his reluctance, Shouta’s current second-years had some…interesting…takes on the English language. He couldn’t imagine their Heroics essays were much better. As he dropped his keys in the bowl by the door and kicked his shoes off, the man looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Zashi, it’s been over an hour. Did it really take you that long to pick up my eyedrops?”

Hizashi tossed the man his tiny bottle of eyedrops (the literal strongest brand on the market), before sighing and flopping onto the couch next to him. The cats went scrambling as his weight disturbed the cushions (the little bastards had always liked Shouta better, because he was basically one of them). “I met the strangest little listener. Kiddo needed some burn cream-I think he was hurt?”

An eyebrow raised. “You didn’t check?”

Hizashi looked back at his husband, incredulous. “What? Am I supposed to ask him, as a strange man that in no way looks like a hero, to show me his suspected wounds? That’s a nice way to get security called on you.”

“So what did you do?”

He shrugged. “I asked, but he seemed insistent he was fine. I gave him the cream and some pain meds. He had some other stuff in his basket too, looked like he was stocking up. Oh! But that’s not the interesting part!”

“And that part was?”

Hizashi beamed. “He said he liked my shirt!”

“You’re right, Zashi. The kid definitely wasn’t okay.”

“Shouuutaaa!”

Mina trudged through the halls of her school once again, trying her hardest to change her quirk to invisibility with pure willpower. By now, the other students usually had one of three stock reactions when she walked by: side-eyeing, open staring, or open staring with disgust/laughter. As she passed one of the regular side-eyeing groups, she grimaced as the heel of her left foot scraped across the floor of the hall. A lesser-known side effect of dragging your feet through life was wearing down your shoes faster, apparently. And of course, her request to her parents to get her a new pair was met with the ‘we spend so much money on you already why do you keep asking’ lecture.

Her mother’s new handbag was, of course, not mentioned.

Regardless, Mina would have to put up with the annoying hole in her shoe for a bit longer. Moving to her classroom, she walked as quietly as she could around the perimeter to her desk in the very back. It was in a row by itself, of course, and the desk itself had seen better days.

Swiping the thumbtacks off of the seat, Mina looked down at the worn and chipped wood, probably a desk they got from storage (or the dumpster). She’d asked her teacher about it, and all the man had said was that ‘the school didn’t want to waste resources if they’d be destroyed anyways’. Once again implying that she had no control over her quirk. Sighing, again, she swept the spider lilies off of her desk and into her bag (they had started showing up a week ago, and the volume was steadily increasing. Where did they even find this many flowers in good condition?) while bringing her notes from the previous day out in preparation for class.

“Hey, Demon Girl actually showed up today! Did you like the flowers, or did you already melt them into mush?”

Mina rolled her eyes. The name-calling stung a bit every time, but middle school kids were far from the most creative when it came to insults. Despite what people said, she liked how she looked. Pink was her favorite color! And aliens were cool! At this point, that was about as far as her self-esteem went, but it was still something. The jerks in her new school could call her whatever they wanted! The real problem was-

“Tachi-kun! I don’t think Ashido liked her flowers!”

Shit. Yumihara Tachiko, or Tachi-kun to his cronies, was pretty much the self-proclaimed king-of-the-bullies, at least amongst the third years. He was a pudgy twerp, a few inches shorter than Mina herself, with a quirk that gave him minor super strength. Not enough to lift a car, at least not at his current age (or physical fitness), but enough to really hurt if he punched you. Which happened all the time.

True to form, the kid marched over like a king come to execute a peasant, greasy brown hair slicked back and face riddled with acne. He pointed in Mina’s direction, and began to talk, but she wasn’t really listening. Is it worth it to just ignore him? He’ll prolly get mad. I just don’t want to deal with this today.

“HEY! I’m talking to you, mutie freak!”

That one stung a bit. In a world of strange quirks altering the very definition of what it meant to be ‘human’, the word ‘mutie’ had pretty much become a slur, short for mutant. Something unnatural. Something that didn’t belong. She’d googled the origin of the word one night, out of curiosity, and ended up with something called the Creature Rejection Clan. Her related internet searches after that became much less fun.

The boy shoved her hard enough to send her sprawling out of her desk and onto the harsh floor of the classroom, the back of her head impacting painfully.

“That’ll teach you to ignore me! How’s about you shine my shoes while you’re down there? It’s about all your kind is good for, anyways.”

Just be calm. Just be calm. It’s not worth it. You’ll just get in trouble.

She tried to get up, but a kick from one of the cronies knocked her back down. Her face felt flushed, and her eyes burned.

Don’t cry. Can’t cry right now. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s FINE.

“Ew, weird! She turned purple! Maybe she’s shedding her skin or something!”

“Fuckin’ freak!”

Mina glared up at the boys through tears that hadn’t quite fallen, scowling. One of them backed up, looking frightened.

Don’t get mad, it’s fineitsfineitsfine. It’s fin-

Something impacted her cheek hard, her head snapping to the side and taking her body with it. The back of her skull impacted the classroom wall hard enough to turn her vision white for a moment, and she could already tell through the haze that it was bleeding.

“HEY! Watch your temper, mutie. My dad taught me self-defense! Just stay on the ground like a good bitch.”

Mina saw red.

She never even felt the bully’s nose break, cartilage and bone crunching under her knuckles. Didn’t even notice the blood run down her hand as the skin split. Her heart pounded in her ears, making it impossible to hear the boy’s two friends whimper and cry out, scrambling away like prey in front of a predator, probably calling for a teacher. Yumihara was on the ground, crying and cradling his ruined nose with his hands. Mina stomped up to him (when did she stand up), ignoring the shocked and terrified faces of the rest of the class that had watched the exchange (and done NOTHING why do they never help me)

“I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!”

She screamed those words, over and over again, hot tears streaming down her face until she felt like she’d drank a cup of her own acid. It didn’t last long, though.

“ASHIDO! ENOUGH! STOP THIS, NOW!”

Breathing ragged and vision obscured by tears, she glanced up to see her history teacher, arms crossed and posture defensive. Behind him, one of the cronies hid, smirking at her smugly, with a hint of fear in his eyes.

Shit.

The principal wouldn’t even look at her as she was escorted inside roughly, her teacher’s fist holding the back of her shirt and shoving her along (she was pretty sure they weren’t allowed to do that).

“Sir, this is the third incident this week. I recommend we expel it.”

It. He called me an ‘it’.  For some reason, that hurt more than the words of the bullies. (Weren’t teachers supposed to help)

“Unfortunately, expelling her now would result in too much hassle. She just transferred in, and the last thing we need right now is an investigation.” Mina was mostly numb at this point, tired from her earlier outburst, and tired in general.

“Ashido, you’re suspended for a week. One more incident before the end of the year and I WILL expel you. Are we clear?”

“Ye-”

“Don’t speak. Are we clear?”

Mina nodded, eyes clouded over, as a piece of paper sailed over the desk and landed at her feet.

“Good. Have your parents sign this form and bring it back next Friday. Or else.”

Mina nodded again. Through the haze, she distantly recognized that she had to tell her parents about this, now.

Oh, no.

It started with the smell.

Something on the wind. That distinctive musk, that smell. It was familiar, it was intoxicating.

Next was following it. That took a while. It took even longer when people looked at you strangely. People always looked at you when you were wrong. When you weren’t Normal.

Your outfit was wrong. Your voice was wrong. Your posture was wrong. Your hair was wrong. (Your smile was definitely wrong why do you smile like that you freak-)

Next was remembering him. That was easy! His face was sullen, a bit tired, and a little plain, but still cute! He had fluffy hair! And his eyes held something…dangerous.

The smell became intoxicating.

Who was that boy? Why was he so hurt and hiding it so well?

Would he look better if he bled some more?

Chapter Text

People were watching him.

It had started at the park. Mikumo had wanted to play in the sandbox, maybe build a castle. Or a fortress! Or a pyramid!

After two days of near-constant badgering, he’d finally convinced Mom to take him after school. The park near their apartment was small, and a bit run-down, but that was okay. The swings still worked, and one of the slides was in good order, and naturally it had a large sandbox.

It was cloudy, the rainy season was probably going to start in the coming week. Mikumo was determined to squeeze out the last bit of outside playtime before he was stuck inside, watching rain pitter-patter against the window for hours at a time (although that was fun in its own way).

Mom was acting weird, though. Mikumo, although still a little kid, was insightful for his age. Smart. He noticed things. He noticed how Mom could only use her quirk 5 or 6 times in the kitchen before she stopped with a headache. He noticed how Kacchan eyed him warily from across the classroom after he demanded to switch desks with another kid (ever since the incident anyways). He noticed that the mailman had an iguana quirk and a long tongue.

He noticed that his mom was nervous.

She was already a nervous person. So was he, he thought. But this was…new. Ever since the incident at school, she’d been a lot stricter about taking him places. He’d have to beg for days or even weeks to go to the park, or the pool, or even to get ice cream with her! At first, he thought she was mad at him, but she was super nice to him! They’d have movie marathons at home, and she’d make his favorite food sometimes, and last week they made a blanket fort together and she’d played Heroes with him!

So if it wasn’t his fault, what was it?

Mikumo pondered this amongst his rising Sand Kingdom. It only happened when his mom took him somewhere, then? Glancing at her now, sitting on a park bench a dozen or so feet from the sandbox, she was the picture of calm and collected, a mother watching her son play on a lazy afternoon.

But Mikumo noticed things.

Her eyes kept darting around all over the place, like she was looking for something but couldn’t find it. Her forehead was sweaty. Her fingers kept twitching. Twitching in a motion he was familiar with. Like she was about to use her quirk on something.

Suddenly, she darted forwards and scooped him up into her arms. He protested, but quieted when he felt her arms shake. Looking down at her, the mask of calm was still in place. She spoke to him, louder than necessary for how close they were.

“The weather says it’s supposed to rain soon, sweetie. Let’s go home!”

Glancing over his mother’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but notice a man had wandered into the park. Mikumo didn’t see any kids with him, so why was he there?

And why was he watching them leave?

The weirdness kept happening.

He saw a few more people. Sometimes dressed fancy, sometimes not, but they all stared at him. A man at the grocery store, some lady at the mall, a couple at a coffee shop.

His mom knew about them, too. Eventually, she stopped taking him places other than school, and each walk to and from was always on a different road. He got to see other neighborhoods though, which was neat. Eventually, he got curious enough to ask.

“Mom?”

Inko looked down from the plate she was cleaning. They had just finished dinner, some curry with tasty spices Mikumo couldn’t pronounce yet.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Why do people keep staring at us?”

Inko’s happy demeanor turned scared.

It was the beginning of the end.

It was late afternoon by the time Izuku dragged himself out of bed.

The last few days had really taken their toll, so he decided to let his injuries rest and get some other work done in the meantime. He wanted to stay busy, he wanted to hit the rooftops and run and leap and help but he couldn’t do that with a sprained foot and a burn bad enough to keep him up at night, so instead he decided to dedicate himself to some home pursuits.

First, healing. The faster he felt better the soon he could go out, so he iced and creamed and elevated and did all of the stupid little things the internet said to get him moving.

Second was his vigilante work. He had a missing woman to find, and he was NOT going to stop until she was safe. He combed the sketchy parts of the internet for rumors (hard to do on a phone, he really needed a laptop) while also trying to get past the security on the phone he’d swiped from Takashi. It was his best lead at this point. The tricky part was getting past the biometric scanner. He’d taken the man’s quirk, not his thumbprint.

When he got sick of those, he resorted to his favorite pastime: quirks.

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

New post in [#quirkAdvice] by AlaskanBookWorm (2:01am):

Say, hypothetically, that someone had a quirk that could turn their hair into paper. Now, how would this hypothetical person deal with getting like, a thousand papercuts every time they scratched their head? Also my scalp is super dry bc how do you wash paper?

Asking for a friend.

8 likes     6 comments

Comment by SmallMight189 (2:05am):

Sorry to hear about your friend! You should tell them that there are ways to treat paper (depending on the type, what type is it? Regular notebook paper or computer paper or construction paper? etc) to soften the edges and give it an almost wax-like coating. That would allow you to wash it and it wouldn’t be irritating or harmful to the skin!

New post in [#MyLife] by LivingLarge46 (5:10am):

My quirk lets me change my height by thinking about it. Sounds cool, right? Well it SUCKS. I just ripped my 1094th pair of pants and I’m pretty sure my dad lost the last of his braincells. Support companies only sell DNA-cloth stuff to heroes, because why the heck would I need to change my height, ever? What if I wanna reach something on a high shelf, huh? Selfish bastards.

My sister definitely got the cool quirk in the family :/

18 likes     14 comments

Comment by SmallMight189 (5:19am):

That does suck! But I think your quirk sounds cool! Modern society just doesn’t like things being too convenient :’). There’s a cool brand of super stretchy workout clothes for mutation quirks here, maybe those will help, as long as you’re not trying to be the size of a building.

            LittleRed89 (5:22am): SmallMight you’re back again! You’ve been on here constantly this week man, do you ever sleep?

            SmallMight189 (5:23am): Ha! Absolutely not, life is pain ;)

            LittleRed89 (5:25am): *visible concern*

            SmallMight189 (5:27am): *dabs so you cannot see my tears*

The laptop helped immensely.

It had been a string of good luck, along with slightly sketchy surveillance of a department store dumpster, and maybe a brief scuffle with a homeless guy who just wanted food. Izuku had found a laptop that was in approximate working order. He’d had to drain a decent chunk of his funds to replace the screen, but it was cheaper than buying a new one, anyhow.

Now that he had better access to the internet, it had only taken him a few extra days to finally hack into Takashi’s phone, and another few after that to finally track down his first lead. Obviously, there weren’t any contacts listed as ‘Drug Supplier’ or anything stupid like that, and cold-calling random contacts was bound to end poorly. Izuku had tried digging through old texts and emails, but he couldn’t find any; Takashi had probably deleted them as he went. The man sucked, but he was definitely good at the whole criminal thing. So, he just had to wait for a message to come in with something incriminating.

Which, eventually, it did.

—-------------

New Message From: D.

D: New shipment in. 2 weeks.

Takashi: Location?

D: Usual place.

—-----------------------

Well that wasn’t very helpful. And he couldn’t just ask where the ‘usual place’ was, that would be so suspicious! Izuku racked his brain for ideas but came up with nothing. He was at a dead end.

Stupid criminals and their stupid vague language! Why can’t the shipment just be down the street or something?!

Wait…

….Maybe…but how would Takashi approach this. He seemed pretty…aggressive, although we were fighting, I guess. Here goes nothing…

—------------------

Takashi: Nah fuck that.

D: ???

D: Is there a problem?

Takashi: Usual place is no good. Think I heard some cops sniffing around last time.

Takashi: You got a backup?

—---------------

This was risky. If this ‘D’ person caught on, Izuku was dead in the water.

—------------

D: Shit.

D: Yeah ok I got another place. 1 sec

D: [Location pinged]

D: 2 weeks. Shit’ll be there by 1.

Takashi: K

—----------------

Thankfully most criminals were stupid, apparently. Izuku could not believe that worked.

He opened his map app and plugged in the location, seeing…pretty much nothing. It was an empty lot in Hosu, behind what was probably once some kind of factory or warehouse. A bit on the nose, but a good place for a drug deal, if nothing else.

2 weeks was more than enough time to get back on his feet. He had work to do.

(1 week later)

Shouta moved across the quiet rooftops like a ghost.

It was a skill he’d cultivated long ago in school (he would never admit he first learned how to tread silently to scare Hizashi and Oboro after they startled him out of a nap one too many times), and while putting too much stock in one’s abilities was irrational, he was proud of it. With the experience he had under his belt, he could sneak up on pretty much any criminal or villain, so long as they didn’t have a sense-enhancing quirk.

And now it was time to put his skills to use.

He’d been searching for Null all week, but the vigilante was as crafty as he was unpredictable. He’d show up, stop a dozen criminals in a night, and then disappear for days on end. The Detective had managed to compile enough witness reports to map out a loose boundary for Null’s ‘territory’, but not much more than that.

So, Shouta searched. He mixed up his patrol route each night, stopping crime along his way and hoping that he’d run into his target. Was it the most efficient strategy? No. But it was the method least likely to scare the kid off before Shouta could talk to him (at least he was pretty sure it was a him). He wasn’t joking the last time they met, Shouta had met a big handful of vigilantes, not to mention taught hundreds of students. Null had potential. With some proper training (and maybe a government pardon), he’d make a very effective underground hero.

Coming to a quiet stop on a tall apartment building, Shouta glanced down to the next building over, where Null was crouched close to the edge, nearly invisible in the low light. The sight made him nervous for some reason he couldn’t quite place. Null’s posture was fairly relaxed, but his shoulders were tight. Hir arms were crossed, and his finger tapped the bottom of his helmet repeatedly, like he was tapping his chin. Now that he had the chance to really look, Null did seem rather short, and thin. His clothes were baggy without being ill-fitting, which hid most of his physique, but judging by what Shouta could see he was definitely on the slim side. Short, too; Null was probably shorter than most of the kids in his class. That didn’t mean much, though. Sometimes people were just short. He just hoped that it wasn’t because of malnutrition or illness. Or age.

A not-so-small part of Shouta wanted to just whip his capture weapon out and be done with it, but there were two problems with that. First, Null was right next to the edge of a five-story building with no railings. If something went wrong, the vigilante might take an accidental dive towards the pavement below, and Shouta refused to be the cause of such a thing. Second, Null seemed like a genuinely decent person, if a bit odd and brutal in his takedowns. If he wanted to have any hope of rehabilitating Null into a hero, or even just a regular citizen, he had to build trust. Typically, wrapping someone in metal-woven cloth and slamming them onto a roof was a bad way to do so. Unfortunately.

So, he settled on something a bit less intense. He leapt from the roof, hitting the one adjacent and rolling to his feet, purposely making enough sound to be heard. Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound as relaxed and bored as possible (not exactly a tall task for him).

“Null.”

Null flinched a bit, then tensed. “Eraserhead.” His voice came out a bit distorted, and clearly was being artificially deepened, probably by that helmet.

Shouta pulled his goggles down to rest around his neck and put one of his hands in his pocket while the other rested lazily on his capture weapon.

“Seems you’ve been busy lately. Any particular reason?”

Wrong thing to say. Even without facial expressions to go on Shouta could see how the vigilante’s shoulder tensed even more, becoming guarded.

“None of your business.”

Shouta sighed. “Right. Fine, then. Nice night tonight, isn’t it?” He was bad at socializing, sue him.”

“You’re bad at small talk. You clearly want something from me, so what is it? I know you followed me here.”

If nothing else, he could admire the bluntness. Finally, someone else who can cut through the crap. “I’ve been assigned your case by your favorite local detective. We operate in a pretty similar way, you know. I’m supposed to bring you in.”

Shouta did take some satisfaction when he noticed that Null didn’t bolt at his words. Laying his cards on the table may have been worth the risk.

“But you’re…not trying to capture me? Yet.”

Shouta nodded. “Yet. You are, by legal definition, a villain, but vigilantes operate in a grey area. Putting you through a rehabilitation program is on the table. Or you could always just hang up the mask and we can go about our lives, though the brass may not be happy with me if you vanish.”

Null’s posture…changed, but it was hard to tell exactly what it meant. He was more guarded, did Shouta say the wrong thing? Null spoke again after a minute, voice tight.

“I can’t just stop, Eraserhead. I’m not doing this for fun. People need my help.”

“You’ve saved a fair number of people, no denying that.” Shouta shrugged. “The people Tsukauchi’s talked to have been appreciative, at least most of them. Still, that is what heroes are for.”

“Most heroes don’t give a rat’s ass about the people I help. If they did, I wouldn’t have had to help them.”

“What do you mean?” Shouta knew what he meant, and Null probably knew that he knew, but he wanted to hear it, his motivations.

“Quirk discrimination has gotten worse, the last few decades. Heroes spend more time in front of cameras and less on patrol, and people keep slipping through the cracks. Did you see what happened with Death Arms last month?”

Shouta nodded, frowning. That was a messy incident. Death Arms had attempted to stop a robbery in progress at a local store. He showed up to the scene a few minutes late and ended up tackling a man with a scorpion mutation quirk who had been shopping there. The actual culprit, a man with a weak emitter quirk, had fled the scene and had only been caught by police sometime later. Death Arm issued a public apology, and paid a fine, but otherwise got off scot-free.

Null’s fists were clenched at his sides. “It happens all the time. Daylight heroes don’t care about people in the poor parts of town, it’s too much work to deal with the gangs. The media makes people with mutant quirks into monsters. If your quirk looks scary or just not heroic, you’re a suspected villain. And gods help you if you’re quirkless-”

Null cut himself off, seeming like he was trying to pull himself together. Shouta was surprised at the venom, the bitter regret, in his words. Given his quirk, though, some of it made sense. Speaking of…

“The man you fought, Takashi, can’t use his quirk anymore. I thought your quirk worked like mine, but it seems that it has the potential to be permanent.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Null’s posture went ramrod straight, and he looked closer to bolting. Shouta had positioned himself smartly, there were no nearby buildings Null could leap to without going past him, but he was still wary, struggling to keep his outward posture nonchalant.

Okay, let’s try a different angle. “People gave me a lot of grief for my quirk in school. Said I was taking away their individualities by robbing them of their quirks. Not like I actually took them, but whatever. I get it, a little. But I never bought into that crap. A quirk is a tool, it’s what you do with it that matters. Just because you can’t shoot rainbows out of your ass doesn’t mean you can’t help people.”

Null’s posture relaxed slightly at the quip, and he sighed. “You’re one of the good ones, Eraserhead. I hope that you stay that way. It’s just…not as simple as you think. I can’t stop, I just can’t. They need my help, and I may be the only one that can help them.”

Shouta sighed back; this was going nowhere. It gave him an idea, though. It might delay Null’s arrest, but it might be better in the long term.

“What if you weren’t the only one that could help these people?”

Null’s head cocked to the side a bit, almost like a cat. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been going after the trigger operation in the area. We’ve pieced that much together. If you don’t want to tell me why, fine. But I’ve been dealing with these operations for a lot longer than you. We could pool our resources and information and take them out faster.”

Now Shouta could catalog surprise. Probably wasn’t expecting that. “I-what? You’d…you’re lying.”

Shouta shrugged. “If that’s what you think, fine. Not a lot of point to it though. I’ve worked with vigilantes before, and the recent trigger sales are an issue that needs to be fixed sooner rather than later. If you know anything about it, which you seem to, it’s only logical to work together,”

“I thought you were here to capture me. Wouldn’t that delay things? Because I’m not helping you from a cell, if I help you at all.”

“No. If you agree to help me, I’ll give you a way to contact me and be on my way. Frankly, I could use the backup. If the Commission has to wait a bit longer on your arrest, too bad for them.”

Null had started leaning forwards, clearly at least considering the offer. Until Shouta mentioned the Commission. Null’s posture closed off entirely, and he took a step back towards the lip of the building. Alarmed, Shouta took a step forward, hand tightening around his scarf. “Null? What-”

“What did you just say?”

Shouta was confused. “What? I said I could use the backup. These people can be dangerous, and you seem like you can handle yours-”

“The Commission sent you?”

That was the part he was worried about?

“Uh, yeah. I don’t work directly for them, a lot of heroes don’t, but they were the ones who pushed your case onto Tsukauchi’s desk in the first place. Not really sure…why…what’s wrong?”

Null was…shaking?

“Sorry.”

Shouta cried out in alarm as Null threw himself off the roof of the building, losing him in the shadows below.

Chapter Text

“Mom, he’s looking again.”

“No sweetie, he’s not. He’s just passing by.”

“But he’s…following us.”

“Mikumo, stop. You’re just imagining things.”

…

“Mikumo, come set the table!”

“Okay!”

BANG! CRASH!

“Mikumo run!”

…

“Mommy? MOMMY!”

…

“Come with us.”

Izuku slept like shit. He’d gotten home fairly early, having decided to call it a night early in case Eraserhead decided to pursue him. Even so, the usual nightmares plagued his unconscious hours, and even now that the sun was high in the sky Izuku found himself struggling to keep his eyes open.

It had been a close call. Eraserhead was nice, at first, but after mentioning…them…he had chosen to leave. The real question was whether the hero was genuine in his confusion, or if it was all a ruse. Was he working for them after all? If nothing else, Izuku would have to observe the man and see. If he kept up his current investigation, it was probably inevitable they’d run into each other again eventually.

Last night was probably a bit too early to go out, anyways. He’d mostly just left his hideout to think and get moving after a week stuck inside. He’d been up on that roof, mumbling through his various backup plans for the next week when Eraserhead and dropped in. His helmet had pinged him with a proximity alert several minutes before, which made Izuku uneasy. Why was Eraserhead just watching him from a roof? So weird! He’d had to pull on Helium again to get away, but luckily he had avoided any injuries this time, aside from some soreness. Even so, the smart decision would be to wait a few more days before going out again.

Would he, though? Debatable.

DING!

That was the notification sound for…the Admin account?

Housecall Request

Submitted by: Overwatch452

Priority: Medium-High

Quirk: Super Senses

Remarks: I’m so sorry to bother you again, but Hana is having a really bad flareup right now. She’s passed out three times today and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. We can’t even interact with her anymore.

Please, is there anything you can do to help?

QAA - Private Message:

Admin: I’ve just received your request.

Admin: Is Hana-chan’s quirk getting stronger?

Overwatch452: I don’t know! Probably!

Overwatch452: Is Izuku-kun available? She really likes him and she always seems a bit better after he visits.

Overwatch 452: I’ll pay double.

Admin: Please don’t.

Admin: I was just speaking with Izuku, actually. He said he’ll be on his way in a few minutes.

“So, what happened?”

Naomosa would like to think that he and Eraser were becoming more familiar with one another at this point. Not quite to the point of ‘friends’ like he and Toshinori were, but maybe closer to ‘close work acquaintances’. The man was pretty much a block of cement as far as emotions went though, so who knew.

Eraser had called the meeting, saying he had an important update on the Null case, but he had asked Naomosa two favors. First, he asked that Naomosa not update anything or anyone about the case until after their meeting. Okay, fine, if there was sensitive information or conflicting evidence it was best to get it all down at once to keep it organized. The second favor though, Shouta said he’d ask during the meeting, which had Naomosa concerned. Eraser wasn’t exactly one to beat around the bush like this.

Once again brandishing an entire pot of coffee (he had swapped an extra one out in the breakroom, in preparation for this very meeting) Aizawa sighed before speaking. “I had a conversation with Null last night that actually lasted for more than a few sentences before he launched himself off of another building.”

The detective paled a bit at that. “Is he alright?”

Aizawa huffed out a sigh, swishing his coffee around. “Best I can tell. I didn’t see a body when I checked, and he’s leapt from higher ledges already, so he’s probably fine. That’s not what I came to talk about though.”

Naomosa nodded, urging the man to continue.

“His motivations are becoming more clear. He said he ‘wasn’t just doing this for fun’ and that he would help those who heroes don’t bother with. Seems like he’s got a thing against a lot of daytime pros. Really up in arms against quirk discrimination, too, especially towards the quirkless.”

Naomosa groaned, putting his chin in his hand. “That makes this even harder. Usually, vigilantes run out of motivation after a few weeks and give it up. If he’s that passionate about this, he’ll probably keep going until he physically can’t anymore.”

Aizawa nodded. “Exactly. Given his quirk, that isn’t too surprising. I do find it odd we can’t find anything about an erasure quirk like his in the system.”

“Depending on how it manifested, he might not have ever gotten it registered at all.” he shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him use it.”

A shake of the head. “No, but I think our guess was right. I mentioned to him that we thought his quirk could be permanent under the right conditions, and his posture stiffened. I think we hit that nail right on the head.”

Naomosa felt a bit of dread pool in his gut. “That’s…bad.” His blood chilled further when he caught the glare the hero was sending him. “What?”

“Let’s not let any personal bias sully the investigation. Right, detective?”

His eyebrows raised. What was he…oh! “No! No, Eraser! I didn’t mean it like that, sorry! That sounded terrible out of context!”

The man narrowed his eyes but made no move to relax. If quirk discrimination was bad in the public eye, it was rampant behind the scenes. A staggeringly small number of laws were in place to prevent it, and most didn’t follow them anyways. The police, from Naomosa’s own experience, were sometimes even worse, depending on the quirk and who was involved.

“Eraserhead, you should know by now I have no problem working with you or your quirk. I’m just worried about the power to render someone permanently quirkless being placed in the hands of a criminal with an agenda. Not to mention, if he really is as young as we fear, it might make him a target to other parties.”

“The Commission?”

“...among others, yes.” The man he was thinking of was supposed to be dead, but Naomosa still worried about what his best friend had confided in him.

Eraserhead set the coffee pot on his desk, before leaning forward. “That brings me to my favor, actually. Tsukauchi, I need to know if I can count on you for this investigation. I need discretion here.”

Well if that wasn’t a suspicious way to start asking a favor. “Discretion…in regards to what, exactly? I really like this job, Eraserhead.”

The man glanced behind him at the closed door, before turning back to the desk and leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him. “There are two ways we could bring Null in. One is the ‘easier’ way. I corner him with some police, wrap him in my scarf, and call it a day. Null goes to jail, maybe even Tartarus, and I have a regular sleep schedule back within the week.”

Naomosa grimaces. “I don’t-”

A raised hand cut him off. He claimed to be a bad teacher, but he could certainly command a room. “The second way is rehabilitation. Either into a licensed hero or just as a regular citizen. Basically, convince Null to retire and pursue something better. This option is more difficult, but it’s the better outcome, objectively.”

“I agree, we’ve discussed this before. What are you getting at?”

The hero sighed, again. “For reasons he won’t tell me, Null is going after the Trigger operation in the city. He’s gathered intel rather quickly, and there’s a personal stake in it, somewhere, but he intends to take it all the way. If we want to take him in, we need him to trust us. To that end, I offered to work with him.”

Now that was a surprise. Usually Eraserhead operated alone, by a pretty noticeable personal preference. He hadn’t worked with another hero in years, probably since the Villain Factory incident a few years back.

“The problem came when he started asking me questions. He asked if the Commission sent me. By legal definition, I told him they did, at least through you.”

Pausing his note taking, Naomosa glanced up. “And this is a problem?”

Another nod. “I confirmed and he immediately backed out of the offer and threw himself off the roof of the building.”

“Rather blunt, but damn. Not good. So Null has some kind of grudge with the Commission.”

This time, Aizawa shook his head. “I think he’s afraid of them, actually.” At his confused look, the man continued. “He started shaking, and his posture went from interested to extremely defensive. His voice shook, too. Given his quirk, I’d say he may have had a run-in with someone in the past. Either with the Commission itself or someone closely tied to them.”

Well wasn’t that perfect? That would explain why the HPSC pushed up Null’s case priority. Really, everyone with a brain knew the Commission was a lot more corrupt than advertised. It was kind of a ‘we know but we don’t know and the system works so nobody will do anything about it’ situation. Day-to-day, Naomosa would have to admit he didn’t think about it, which was probably part of the problem.

The real question, though, was what did they want with him, exactly? Did they just want a criminal with a unique quirk off the street, or did they want him for something? He looked back at Eraserhead, who had likely already gone through this entire thought process before this meeting.

“So, hence the discretion then. What do you need from me?”

He knew he was screwed when the hero looked him in the eyes, all business.

“I have a plan. I just need you to lie to your superiors and the government.”

Damn, he really liked his job.

It was well past dark by the time Izuku finally returned to his apartment. He’d had one of his busiest days in recent memory, all the day after a super-stressful conversation with Eraserhead, of all people.

Even if meeting Eraserhead had been pretty cool. While their quirks weren’t as similar as the man probably thought, they did share a certain unspoken…kinship? Acquaintanceship? People didn’t really like their quirks. Izuku also couldn’t help but respect the man’s work ethic. Eraserhead was famous (at least amongst the underground, most regular people had never heard of him and never would, which only made him cooler) for busting drug and trafficking rings, and patrolling in the bad parts of town most heroes wouldn’t bother with.

Izuku would have to look into the man’s employment, and his motives, but he was at least considering his offer to work together, at least in a limited capacity. But he wouldn’t compromise on the Commission either way, he’d learned a long time ago they weren’t worth the pain.

Shaking his head clear of that mess, he trotted onwards, his building finally coming into view. After tending to his wounds and traveling to two separate house calls, Izuku had spent some time in the library catching up on schoolwork and doing some…independent research into Eraserhead’s personal life. Sadly, all he got from that was his civilian name and his teaching certificate, along with his employment at UA. Pretty cool, but not helpful in actually vetting the man or his intentions. Well, they’d run into one another again eventually, so Izuku would have to keep an eye on him.

He clambered up his fire escape quietly, before going to remove the wood blocking the window-

The wood had been moved.

Someone was in his apartment.

Crap, did it have to be the one day I come home late?

He could hear the telltale signs of someone digging through his belongings, taking absolutely no care to contain the noise. That ruled out anyone official immediately. Probably just a thug or a drifter.

While he hid his presence well, he was in a pretty bad part of town. Once every few months, someone became desperate enough to try their luck or stumbled across his abode by pure chance.

Unfortunately for them, Izuku was not in the mood.

Carefully setting his backpack on the ground just inside, Izuku slipped through the window, as quietly as he could. He could see the figure across the room, rooting through the icebox with his back to him. Amateur move. He was wearing dark, ratty clothing and hiking boots. The real test though, would tell Izuku whether this man was desperate and hungry, or a jerk trying to score some free stuff.

The test, of course, was walking right up behind him and seeing his reaction. Using Pull, Izuku brought a can of discarded soda to his hand, before underhand tossing it so it landed on the infiltrator’s head with a dull thunk.

“Ow! The fuck?!” The figure whipped around, and Izuku caught bloodshot eyes and a nose that had probably been broken more than a few times. “The fuck you think you’re doing, you brat?! This shit’s mine! Back off or I’ll bash your fuckin’ skull in!” The thug whipped around, bringing to bare an old-looking wooden bat.

Izuku smiled, cocking his head to the side. He could at least try to be friendly. “Actually, this stuff is mine. But, if you need some food, I’d be happy to give you some!”

The thug swung his bat, coming just a few inches from Izuku’s face. “I told you this shit’s mine! Get outta here before you get hurt!” As he spoke, Izuku narrowed his eyes. The man’s tongue was black.

This man was on Trigger.

Izuku smiled, but it no longer reached his eyes. Perfect.

“I have a few questions for you.”

A small figure hunched in the dirty alleyway, trying to let the shadows obscure them from the person they were definitely not following. It had worked pretty well all day! They lost him in some neighborhood, but they knew he lived around here, so following him home was pretty easy!

Still had no name, but that was okay! Names were easy. The rest…the rest came later. (Kill cut stab BLEED).

Tired eyes widened as a loud crash sounded through the otherwise empty city block. Where…there! Movement in one of the windows of a tall building. Most of it looked boarded up but…yeah, one of the windows was open!

The figure crouched down as yelling and movement approached the window. Despite their decent night vision, they were a bit too far away to make out what was happening, until the wind carried a voice over. It sounded super scared, which was fun, but gravely in the way drug addicts’ voices were, so not very cute,

“WAIT! I’M SORRY, I-I-I WON’T COME BACK! I’LL TELL OTHERS TO STAY AWAY TOO! PLEASE-!”

The figure flinched as another loud crash sounded through the night. Their eyes followed more movement as a figure was ejected from the open window at speed, out into the open air before falling several stories into a dumpster with a loud clang!

After waiting a few moments, the person hauled themselves out of the dumpster, crying and groaning in pain. Looking up towards the window, the new figure flinched hard as an eerie-looking red light flashed in the window frame, just for a moment, showing the shadow of…oh! It was him! That fluffy hair was pretty noticeable! That red light was so pretty!

The figure on the ground took off in a sprint at the sight, slipping and stumbling until they entered the alleyway. Plastering themselves against the wall, they slid down to a sitting position, nursing what looked like a broken arm and…OH!

The man was bleeding. What looked like dozens of open cuts littered their visible skin, and based on the smell there were even more injuries beneath their clothes.

A wide, almost manic smile overtook her features (kill stab stab kill drink bite bleed blood kill stab bite kill bite drink BLOOD).

Himiko would drink her fill tonight.

Chapter Text

You can do this. You can do this. Sure, they’ll be mad, really mad, even, but it’ll be fine. Like, okay they’ll probably ground you, and yell a whole lot, and say mean things, and, and…

Oh god I can’t do this.

Mina tightened her grip on the straps of her backpack, stuffed to the brim with her things, as she stood in the threshold of her parents’ home office. The door was a dull white, faded from the age of the house but well-maintained despite it. There was a small chip in the paint below the knob, from when they first moved in and her dad tripped with a box. They never bothered repainting it. After all, what was the point of painting an entire door for one little chip?

Ah, hell. She was stalling.

Her left hand curled around the damning piece of paper given to her by the principal. It was just one week! She’d suffer for it, but then she could just go back to school and suffer there instead. Mina had never understood why her parents wouldn’t let her just do online schooling if she was such an embarrassment. Both of her parents worked from home already, so it’s not like the internet couldn’t handle it.

She sighed, looking down at the old, worn shoes on her feet. Truth be told, she had started doing online classes after two days at her new school, speeding through her courses after her parents went to sleep at night. She knew she wouldn’t really learn anything here, not with everyone out to get her like this. But every time she brought online classes up at home, wanting to admit the only reason she still went to school was so she wouldn’t be marked truant because she couldn’t un-enroll herself without them knowing, they shut her down hard.

She got the feeling that they just didn’t want her at home.

Her fists tightened around the straps of her bag, and she knocked twice on the office door. Her hand didn’t even have time for a third knock as the door whipped open, revealing her father standing beyond it, looking cross.

“What are you still doing here? You were supposed to be at school twenty minutes ago!”

What little courage Mina possessed fled her entirely at the look her father was giving her. He was so mad, and she hadn’t even shown him the paper yet. Maybe she could just jump out of a window.

“Well?! Out with it, girl!”

Mina flinched, before holding out the piece of paper with her eyes closed. “Th-the principal! He, uh, he wanted me to g-give this to you…”

The paper was torn from her grip, and her gaze focused squarely on her shoes. Not five seconds later-

“SUSPENDED!? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! Have we taught you NOTHING about how to behave?!”

A bubble of…something, probably anger, burst in Mina’s chest. She looked up, eyes starting to burn.

“Of course not! You haven’t taught me shit because you hate me over something that ISN’T MY FAULT!”

SMACK!

Mina stumbled back a couple of steps before falling onto her backside, holding her cheek. Despite their differences, her parents had never hit her before. Looking up, her father glared down at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Get out.”

Mina flinched at the words, but the tone was calm. Cold. Emotionless. She looked up again.

“W-what?”

“Get. Out. We’re done with you. If you won’t appreciate all of the sacrifices we’ve made for you, then you don’t deserve them.”

Mina sputtered for a moment, almost not believing what she was hearing (but deep down, a part of her had expected this. Why else would she have already packed a bag?). She looked past her father into the office. Maybe her mom would-

Her mother was still sitting at her desk, working. She typed away at a spreadsheet of some kind.

She hadn’t even turned around.

“Oh.” Mina said, in the quietest voice she had ever used. It all sort of…sunk in, at that moment. She knew her parents weren’t super…fond of her or anything, but she had thought, maybe, that they had some kind of loose understanding.

Apparently not.

“I said. Get. OUT!” Her father stomped his foot, taking a step towards her. Mina let out an involuntary yelp, before scrambling to her feet. She tore down the stairs and out the front door, nearly tripping on the stoop, before making it out to the street. She faintly heard a door slam closed behind her.

I have a few more days to patrol. My leg is back to a hundred percent. Should I show up early to scout the area? But wait, what if someone else has the same idea and I get spotted? Or the meeting place changes? Which heroes are in Hosu again? Let’s see, there’s the Idaten agency, I know Manual is around, Native-

Patrol was quiet tonight. Izuku had spent most of it leaping between rooftops, almost wistfully, while coming up with backup plans for his foray to Hosu in a couple of days. Truth be told, he was nervous. This was supposed to be a relatively big supply deal, and it was still his only real lead on whoever Takashi handed off Nashi to. Hopefully, she was still alive, Izuku would believe she was still alive. Society had failed her already, so Izuku, so Null, would be there to save her when it counted.

Even so, it dawned on Izuku that other than during his ‘training’, he had never actually left Musutafu before. He’d taken the time to pour over maps of the area, check some cameras, and google some things, but that was no substitute for the real thing. Normally, he’d just head over a few days early to get the lay of the land, but this wasn’t a tourist trip. Someone’s life was at risk, and Izuku would not blow his lead by being overeager or nervous. He just had to be patient.

The main issue he was dealing with was a lack of information. He didn’t know who exactly was responsible for the uptick in Trigger sales, nor who the suppliers were. He didn’t know how many people they had coming to this exchange, or what their quirks were, or…really anything.

Troublingly, he didn’t even know what the drug trade had to do with Nashi’s disappearance. Or any of the previous ones. Takashi’s name was sprawled in Nashi’s apartment, so they were connected somehow, but the details were eluding him to an annoying extent.

What he was not going to do, however, was show up and make a fuss. Not only would fighting an entire drug ring at once possibly reveal his quirks, but he’d be outmatched and lose his only lead into the case. He could really, well…

He could use some backup.

His mind drifted once again to Eraserhead’s offer. The man had seemed genuine, but Izuku was inexperienced with people, and he knew that. Eraserhead probably knew it too, or at least suspected it. Izuku was smart, best he could tell, but he was loathe to admit it would probably be pretty easy to manipulate him in a social situation if he wasn’t prepared for it.

He’d have to talk to Eraserhead again, get a better feel for the man if nothing else.

He had stopped on a rooftop to ponder this. Looking around, he was a few blocks over from one of the sleazier clusters of bars and clubs in the area. Poorly patrolled by regular heroes, poorly lit, and overall pretty slummy. Perfect for picking up some petty crimes.

His heads-up display lit up with a notification. Proximity sensor in the next alley. Right on queue. This helmet really was handy, even if he had no clue how it worked.

Hopping over to the next building, Izuku looked down into the alleyway, finding the sadly familiar sight of someone getting pressed against a wall. The perpetrator appeared to be male, based on their build, and fairly tall, or at least tall compared to Izuku. He looked like he’d just come from the clubs, based on his wobbly posture. Or he was another druggie, in which case all the better for information gathering.

He couldn’t quite see the other figure from this angle, but it didn’t matter. This was sketchy as hell and Null wouldn’t stand for it. Silent as a mouse, Null jumped from the roof, hitting the ground in a silent roll only perfected after countless attempts, and springing to his feet a bit down the alley.

Turning on his voice distortion, he spoke.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Both figures jumped (he could see the person pressed against the wall now, and the sight made him sick to his stomach. That girl looked young, way too young to be in this part of town. Then again, so was he.) The man turned around, stumbling on one leg a bit before righting himself.

“Nuthin’ to worry about! Just offering the lil’ lady here a ride home! So fuck off!”

Uh-huh. Right.

Null leaned to the side, looking past the criminal at the girl, who was still frozen in place against the wall. She looked like a teenager with some pretty prominent mutant features, although not the oddest he’d ever seen. She had horns sticking out of curly hair and dark eyes with golden centers. It was hard to tell with his helmet’s light filter, but he thought they might be glowing slightly in the dark. And…was she pink? That was neat, what an interesting mutation! Not the time, though.

She looked pretty terrified, which wasn’t surprising. Her clothes looked old but not filthy, so she hadn’t been out here for too long. So either she wasn’t homeless or had recently gotten some donated clothes. There was a large, faded backpack at her feet. Maybe a runaway? Questions for later, he realized, as his eyes narrowed in on a large bruise on her cheek, turning the pink of her skin a dark purple.

His insides burned as a bubble of anger worked its way up his throat. He must stay calm, though. No use scaring the poor girl.

“Miss?” The girl flinched at being addressed, golden eyes snapping up towards his head. “You’re safe now. I’ll get rid of this man and be right with you. Just wait right there, okay?” The girl held her eyes on him for a few more seconds, obviously gauging whether it was better to stay or run as fast as she could. Decision seemingly made, she nodded once, stiffly, before sliding down to sit against the wall of the alley. She looked spent. Nodding to himself, Null took a step towards the man, who had begun shouting drunken curses at him.

“Hey you brat! I didn’t do nothin’! Just talkin’ to a nice girl ain’t a crime! And if she wanted to come home wit’ me thas’ her buis-”

Null relished in the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage surrendering under his gloved knuckles as his hand sunk into the man’s face. He sunk to his knees, trying to stem the flow of blood from his ruined nose.

“YOU MOTHAFUCKER! I’LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!” The man stepped forwards in a wide right hook. Drunken people like him were usually the easiest to fight, telegraphing their moves like a circus show. It almost made him feel bored, but he was too angry for that.

Ducking to the side, the man’s fist went wide, rendering him off-balance. Null caught his wrist before driving his knee and elbow into the cook’s arm, easily breaking the bone. The man let out a pitiful wail of pain, staggering backwards. Izuku simply walked forwards into the man’s space and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, blue and stained with alcohol. Rearing his head back, he slammed the front of his helmet into the man’s already-broken nose, dropping him like a sack of bricks onto unforgiving cement.

“Didn’t even need to use my quirk. Pathetic.” Lowering the volume on his helmet and turning off what he dubbed ‘the scary voice’, Izuku turned back to comfort and hopefully help the girl but saw only an empty alley.

“Miss? Are you still there? Miss!” He waited a few moments, but no response. She must’ve run off, then. That’s a shame, she looked like she needed help. With a sigh, Izuku whipped out his burner phone to call the crime in and get this man medical attention (reluctantly).

“Musutafu Police Precinct. Detective Tsukauchi speaking.”

“Hey buddy, how’s it going? You’re still on shift this late?”

There was that weary sigh he’d been looking forward to.

“What is it, Null?”

“Caught a guy trying to assault a girl in an alley. Public intoxication, and the girl had a bruise on her cheek and was pressed against the wall of the alley. I already forwarded you the video.” (His helmet, apparently, functioned like a body cam when he wanted it to, which was awesome).

“By the books, for once. Thank you, Null. Send me the location and I’ll get someone down there shortly. What’s the condition of the victim, and the perp, for that matter?”

Izuku sighed. “The criminal is pretty messed up, not gunna lie. The victim fled, and I didn’t really get much of her on video.” He had actually cut the video feed before the girl came into view when he jumped into the alley. He had faith in Tsukauchi’s professionalism, but cops in general were pretty tough on mutant quirks, and he didn’t want the girl to get in any hot water just because he wanted this man behind bars. Maybe he’d patrol this area a bit more this week, just in case she was local. He finished giving the details to the detective and went to hang up.

“Actually, wait. Can I talk to you about something?”

“Oh really? The detective with the least free time on the planet wants to talk to little old me? Tsukauchi, I’m flattered. Whatever could you need me for?” He asked, placing his hand over his chest dramatically, wishing the man on the phone could see it.

“It’s about Eraserhead.”

Well, there went his good mood. He had been hoping to use this as a distraction to that very issue. “What about him?” He asked dryly.

“Listen, I really don’t blame you, but why such an aversion to the Commission?”

Izuku nearly, nearly, hung up on the spot, but logic won out by a hair. “Eraserhead talked to you, I assume.” It wasn’t a question, of course he had.

“Yes. Listen, Null. I haven’t updated your file on anywhere but my own private servers. Eraserhead really is willing to work with you.”

This was…odd. Tsukauchi was a nice guy, sure, but he didn’t really seem like the type to vouch for a hero like this. “Why are you so interested in me?” He asked.

“We’re worried about you, kid. I know you can handle yourself, but you shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“I’m not a kid. And I CAN handle myself. I’ve doing it this long; I don’t need any help.” he said, stiffly. This conversation was going nowhere. (He ignored the sick feeling in his gut. Whether it was from Tsukauchi guessing his relative age or something else, he wasn’t sure).

“Listen, Null. You don’t have to trust us. But we can help you, I promise. Just…just give Eraserhead a chance, okay?”

Izuku’s eye flicked up towards the ‘end call’ button.

“I’ll think about it.”

Mina’s breath burned in her lungs as she ran.

Her feet were killing her, her back hurt, her face hurt, she was scared. She just wanted to go home.

But she didn’t have a home anymore.

Moisture burned at her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. Not now. She had used most of the rest of her cash to catch the first train she found after running out the front door. The prefecture her fam-her par-her…whatevers, had moved them to, wasn’t exactly the place to be when you were a homeless mutant. Angry citizens would have thrown rocks at her anytime she stopped for food. So she rode the train to the end of the line, not even paying attention to where she departed to, and wandered off into the night hours later, in hopes of finding a place to sleep.

She’d gotten a few dirty looks on the train, but nobody said anything or did anything, which was a nice change. But then, of course, she’d almost gotten mugged immediately. She didn’t follow heroes too closely, but the one that saved her was kinda scary, although nice and not openly quirkist. Either way, she wasn’t gunna stick around to find out if he hated mutants or not, so she dipped as soon as he turned around and started pummeling the guy who’d cornered her.

Now the question was…where did she go? She needed a place to sleep where she wouldn’t get…bothered. Not to mention food. Her phone worked purely based off the fact her parents didn’t know she was on their plan, and she made sure she never to use actual data for anything unless it was an emergency. Regardless, if she found some free wi-fi she could look some stuff up. It’s somewhere to start, at least.

Opening her phone and turning on her data, just for a minute, she mapped a walking route to the nearest library.

By the time she got there, some two hours later, she was sore, and sweaty, and exhausted. She’d walked straight through the rest of the night, with the early morning sun now burning her eyes as she trudged into what she now knew to be a suburb of Musutafu. Her walk over was terrible, too. Every sound, every creature (or person) rooting through garbage or walking through alleyways spooked her into hiding herself. She’d wasted half of the time hiding behind dumpsters or in the shadows of broken streetlights, covering her stupid glow-in-the-dark eyes and praying nobody would see her again.

But she’d made it. After a brief search, the library had just opened, and there didn’t seem to be many people around. She’d go in, get a membership card, and search for a place to crash. Heck, she could even do her online classes here! Mina couldn’t believe she’d had such an aversion to libraries before, they were so useful!

Wandering inside, Mina attempted to straighten her clothes out and run a hand through her hair so she’d look like less of a street rat, before ambling up the front desk. A woman was working, maybe in her early fifties, nursing a coffee with one hand while the other lazily typed away at the computer there. She had pale skin and red cheeks, with a few wrinkles. Her hair was likely her quirk, as it appeared to be made entirely out of foam. As Mina approached, she caught the scent of saltwater. A wooden nametag at the desk read ‘Suki’.

Suki looked up at her, subtly but noticeably cataloguing Mina’s appearance, making her internally cringe as she tried to stand up straight. She looked at Mina with a polite-yet-neutral face. “Can I help you?”

“Um, hi, good morning.” Mina flushed as her voice cracked a bit from dehydration, trying to forge on as Suki raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering if I could get a library card, please?”

Suki spent another tense second of silence taking in Mina’s appearance, before nodding and digging out a few pieces of paper and attaching them to a clipboard. She passed it to Mina over the counter, along with a pen. “Sure. Deposit is 3000 yen, but then the card lasts forever unless you lose it. Fill out these forms and hand them back to me so I can get you registered.”

Mina’s smile brightened into something a bit more natural. Thanking the nice woman, she quickly sat down and started leafing through the paperwork. Most of it was legal nonsense. Rules about late fees and checking out books, property damage liability, blah blah blah. She stalled when she landed on the information she had to fill out, which included an address. Which she no longer had.

She sniffled but kept the tears in, trying not to draw any attention from Suki (is someone asked her if she was okay she’d definitely burst into tears and nobody needed that at…oh jeez, 6am). Flipping out her phone, now that she was close enough to get the free wi-fi, she looked up a bunch of random addresses, until she found a building next to the local beach. The rest of the form was pretty easy, and she passed the papers back to Suki in a few minutes. After typing on her computer for a few minutes, Mina was passed a red, laminated plastic card with her name and the name of the building on it.

“Here you go. Enjoy your reading!”

Mina smiled. “Thanks, Suki-san. See ya later!” She walked around the desk towards the rest of the building. She could do this! At least, she hoped.

Chapter Text

The steady rumble of the train rattled Izuku’s bones and droned through his head, threatening to lull him to sleep as he leaned against the window, but he was far too high-strung to even consider a nap. The lights of unfamiliar buildings in unfamiliar districts blurred beneath him, reminding him of the fact that he could not just turn around and go home, or even stop this accursed machine even if he wanted to. This was important, he knew. Nashi was counting on him, even if she didn’t know it yet. But leaving Musutafu for the first time on his own sent his anxiety into overdrive.

Was someone breaking into his apartment right now? Had it burned to the ground? Did he forget to close the window? Did someone in those back alleys need saving? Were they dead because of him? Just like her?

Izuku knocked a fist against his head to try and dislodge the negative thoughts, earning him a concerned look from the business man across the aisle. Right now, Izuku was about the furthest possible thing from Null. Right now, he was just Izuku, a ratty-looking teenager in baggy sweats. Null was stuffed inside the duffel bag he carried with him, meaning that to the average passerby he looked like a teenager who was on his way to some kind of sleepover, or something. Whatever it was that normal teenagers did these days.

Maybe I’m a bit more of a shut-in than I thought.

Izuku had decided that the easiest way to travel to Hosu was by train, but he couldn’t exactly take the train in his full vigilante garb. He’d have to stash his bag and change clothes when he got into the city. Depending on how long his excursion tonight went, he’d either have to walk home or wait for the trains to open up again in the morning. Even with the distance, he was weighing his options. Trains sucked.

When he finally, finally pulled into Hosu station, Izuku meandered off, doing his best to merge with the crowds and escape from sight. Hosu, sort of like his hometown, only really had nightlife in specific areas, which tonight’s supply deal was nowhere near, so he’d have to make sure to stay out of sight once he got into the right area.

Taking stock of his surroundings, he shouldered his bag and worked on vanishing down a few side streets, before slipping into the first good-looking alleyway he found. It felt incredibly awkward changing clothes in a filthy alleyway, but it wasn’t like he had any better options at the moment.

Of course, because he was the universe’s favorite, he had only gotten half of his outfit changed when a voice rang down the alley.

“Hey! You there! What do you think you’re doing?”

Oh for frick’s sake. The voice had an authoritative ring to it, so it was probably either a hero or a cop. Izuku desperately wanted to deal with neither, especially when he only had his vigilante pants on. His vest, sweatshirt, and helmet were all still in his bag. Do I ignore him and pretend I didn’t hear? That’ll either work or just tick him off. True to form, Izuku just kept changing, slipping on his padded vest as loud footfalls echoed their way towards him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Okay. Plan B, then.

Turning towards the end of the street, Izuku watched an unfamiliar figure come into view. He was obviously a hero, based on the fact that he had a goofy outfit. It was some kind of bright red jumpsuit with a yellow smiley face on the chest. The man had messy brown hair and round eyes, and was carrying…was that a sledgehammer? The look was topped off by a bright purple cape. Who the heck is this guy? He looks ridiculous! Izuku really didn’t understand limelight heroes and their sense of fashion. Being attention-grabbing was one thing, but this guy was just an eyesore! Plus, it was nearly dusk, what was he still doing out? A late patrol, maybe?

Regardless, Plan B was pretty much ‘act like an ass until the annoying man leaves him alone’. He glared at the man from the edge of his vision, not even looking at the hero directly like he wasn’t worth Izuku’s time.

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy, here? Buzz off.”

Izuku knew it was a bit of a coinflip, but he was still disappointed when the hero just looked offended (probably at not having his boots kissed as soon as he showed up) instead of losing interest. His posture tightened, as did his grip on his hammer, as he stalked down the alleyway with more purpose.

“State your name. What are you doing?”

His outfit assembled other than his helmet, Izuku turned his back to the hero as he approached to hide his face as best he could. As he reached down towards his bag to grab the final piece of his equipment, a gloved hand roughly landed on his shoulder, squeezing tightly but not enough to hurt. The message was clear: you don’t move unless I say so. Izuku’s spine went ramrod straight, adrenaline immediately flooding his veins from his time on the streets.

“Get your hand off of me before I break it.”

The hero’s grip tightened, and Izuku’s heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled to remain calm and in control. Who does he think he is? Even if I was just some random guy in an alley, this is totally against protocols.

“What are you doing back here? I need your name, then you’re coming with me.” he said, radiating self-given authority.

Izuku bristled, gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to ram his head back into the man’s nose. “First? Stop touching me without permission, it’s creepy. Second, not only have I done nothing wrong, but heroes can’t make arrests, so I don’t have to go with you anywhere. Now stop. Touching me.”

The man recoiled, stepping back and puffing out his chest, hands on the hilt of his hammer like it was some kind of holy sword. “I am Smile Knight! Defender of Hosu and local top hero!” As the man focused on himself and his…intro? Highlight reel? Whatever it was. Izuku used Pull to snatch his helmet and shove it onto his head, activating it before grabbing his bag and turning to face the hero.

“I don’t care. I have things to do.” He turned to walk away, shouldering his bag and mentally turning to his preparations for tonight, when a heavy clang rang out in front of him. Looking up from his feet, the hero had ducked around him (did he have a speed quirk? Then why the hell did he carry around a hammer?) and smacked the head of his hammer into the ground, attempting to stop his progress.

“I don’t think so.” he said. “That outfit doesn’t belong to any hero here. Looks more like a cobbled-together villain costume to me. What exactly do you plan on doing here?”

Was this…was he being interrogated? By this guy? And he insulted his vigilante outfit! (It wasn’t a costume, children wore costumes. This was an outfit, a uniform. It was different!)

Izuku huffed. “I’m no villain, and I can wear what I want. Are you a hero or the fashion police? You corner a young man in an alley while he’s changing clothes, touch him without permission, try to get me to a secondary location, and now you won’t let me leave? Gosh, I cannot wait to report this to the Commission. Wonder how your public rating would do after that, hm?”

The whole time he spoke, the man’s face got more and more red, teeth grinding together. Maybe Izuku shouldn’t have pissed him off so much, but he had it coming, honestly.

“Listen here you little shit-”

“Maybe I should just call the police. They can sort this out.” He whipped out his burner phone and started to dial, but stepped back as the hero’s hammer swung past him with a woosh, missing his phone by mere inches and smashing into the pavement.

The man’s face was beet red, and there was a vein visible in his forehead. His mouth was tight and his wide eyes were narrowed to slits. “Listen here. You’re obviously planning criminal activity. I’m going to have to bring you in. Don’t resist, or-”

Izuku took two big steps forward before ramming his hand into the man’s face, cutting off his rambles as he activated his quirk. The hero dropped his hammer, and tried to wrench Izuku’s hand from his face, but it was too late.

Izuku didn’t practice with his natural quirk much. He didn’t love it, even if it was useful. But, there were a few useful tricks he’d picked up along the way. First, when he activated his quirk on someone, he immediately got a feel for the quirk he was about to take. Pull felt warm, and seemed to almost hum under his metaphysical touch. Magma Spit was hot and slippery. Helium, contrary to the name, felt like holding a ball dense smoke. This man’s quirk vibrated quickly, almost eagerly, a characteristic he usually associated with some kind of speed or enhancement quirk. His earlier guess was probably pretty close.

Another skill he had picked up was how he took a quirk. If he took his time with it, the other person would experience some mild discomfort, or with weaker quirks, not feel much of anything at all. Mutant quirks hurt no matter what, but otherwise he could choose to be pretty gentle with it.

Naturally, he ripped Smile Knight’s quirk from his body. Red lightning crackled across both of their bodies as the man screamed, his eyes rolling back into his head. Izuku slammed his spare hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. After only a few seconds, he slumped to the ground, firmly unconscious but still breathing. Best Izuku could figure, the rapid change to the body overloaded the nerves and/or brain, and usually knocked people out with some excruciating pain. He shouldn’t have insulted Izuku’s outfit and choice of illegal profession!

It would be smart to leave before anyone comes to investigate the noise. Reaching down, Izuku returned the quirk (taking an extra few moments to be more gentle), before grabbing his things and moving down the alleys. The hero’s quirk would have been nice for getting to his position early, but he didn’t want to keep it. The man was trash, but maybe he’d still save people with his quirk.

He DID take the sledgehammer, though. Because screw that guy.

The sun had long since set, but Izuku had been in position longer. Finding the warehouse was simple, but finding a spot to stakeout was much more challenging. It was a pretty small warehouse, all things considered, but it was on the fringes of a shipping yard, with large crates occupying an otherwise wide open space that surrounded the building on all sides, making it very hard for Izuku to sneak around. He was currently hiding inside one of the crates near the edge of the area, empty aside from a few barrels he was pretty sure were empty.

It had taken a few hours for people to trickle into the space, one at a time and all in pretty regular street clothes, meant to look inconspicuous. Izuku had dealt with his fair share of criminals during his vigilante days, but the look of these people screamed professional. They’d disappear into the warehouse before emerging a few minutes later, dressed in dark clothing and usually toting some kind of weapon.

At the moment, he counted 9 people. None had prominent mutations, but at least 5 of them had guns, which was not good. One or two he could deal with, but this was a bit beyond him. Not for the first time, he heavily considered calling Tsukauchi-kun for backup, but quickly shook the idea off. Even if he could send someone, it’d take them way too long to get here, and he didn’t trust local police or heroes, especially after his earlier run-in with local law enforcement. He’d just have to be smart about this.

He had been waiting for some time for everyone to assemble. They were expecting Takashi, and probably his entire crew along with, so they were manned appropriately. He now counted 13 visible people, though they wandered in and out of view, so that might be an incomplete count. Regardless, it was about time to start knocking some heads. Sneaking out of the crate, Izuku was a good fifty feet from the nearest person, and his outfit made him practically invisible in the dark-

“Hey! I see someone! Over there! Let’s check it out!”

Of course.

Well, stealth mission failed, time for Plan B, again.

“Yeah, no shit. I’m not exactly hiding over here.”

He was hiding, it just didn’t work. But they didn’t need to know that.

The two men in front of him, one of which he assumed spotted him, approached, while a third started moving in from his left.

“Who the fuck’re you? Some kinda hero?”

Null tried to relax his posture while still remaining defensive. Best they underestimate him. For someone who both hated lying and sucked at it, he sure did it a lot.

“Do I LOOK like a hero to you? Takashi sent me.”

The two looked at each other, curious. Izuku slotted two quirks into place.

“We’ll believe that when we see it. Show us your mark.”

Mark? What mark? Crap, they must have some kind of calling card.

“Takashi has it, not me. He sent me ahead to make sure everything was in place before he came.”

He was thankful that his helmet made him sound older and more confident than he really was. The two men in front of him looked at each other before scowling down at him.

“Yeah, let’s see what the boss has to say about that.” They reached down to grab him, while the third man to his left had pulled out his phone and began to type something, probably dialing someone else on the grounds.

Using Pull, Null ripped the phone out of the third man’s hands, letting it sail past him and smash into the side of a shipping crate. At the same time, he turned towards the two men in front of him. One was drawing a pistol while the other brought a hand up, likely about to use his quirk.

Izuku swung his stolen hammer into the shin of man #2, who cried out and fell to the ground, clutching his now bruised and probably-broken leg. Once again using Pull, Izuku jammed the trigger of the pistol man #1 had aimed at him, using his instant of confusion to smash his palm against the man’s nose. Red light briefly flooded the area as he ripped the man’s quirk from his head, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. He heard a click and a loud thud as he spun, waiting and ready to drop man #3, only to see him already face-down in the dirt.

He looked around, confused. He…he didn’t do that, did he? He moved back behind the shipping crate, hoping nobody saw the brief display. He knew none of the men had time to call for help, so what-

Click!

“Move a muscle and I blow your chest open.”

His eyes blew wide as he slowly turned his head to the side. A figure wrapped in a pitch black cloak was behind him, pressing what felt like a gun to his back, right behind his heart. Without making a single sound, a boot lashed out from beneath the cloak, quickly knocking out man #2.

“What-”

The gun pressed in harder as a deep, gravelly voice whispered to him. “Up-up-up. Don’t make a sound unless I say so. I have questions for you.”

This was both really bad and completely unexpected. How did he sneak up on me? My helmet didn’t even register him! Some kind of stealth quirk? Or was he that good? Not much to recognize from the outfit, either.

“Are you with them?”

“Are you with them?”

Both individuals paused for a moment. The gun remained pressed into his back, but he also remained blessedly un-shot.

“Seems like you aren’t. Who are you, what’s your quirk, and what’s your purpose here? Make it quick, I’m low on time.”

“Not giving me a lot of reason to answer you, given the gun.”

“Keep talking shit and I’ll use it.”

Izuku glanced over his shoulder, finding the other person’s face. Hard to see in the dark, but their mouth and nose were covered in black cloth, leaving bright blue eyes and a few tufts of white hair visible. “If you shoot me, you’ll blow your position, not to mention you’ll get none of the information you want.”

The gun pressed harder. “If you’re useless to me, then we can just be done here.”

Okay definitely oversold that one. Backtrack!

“Um, I’m Null. Vigilante from out of town. I’m here tracking a missing person. And you are?”

The figure sighed in irritation. “Great, a fucking kid. No wonder you were dumb enough to operate on my turf. Get outta here kid, before you get hurt.”

Izuku, being the mature individual that he was, turned around and smacked the hand holding the gun to him to the side. (The man let it happen, and only later did Izuku realize that he could have easily shot him dead in that moment. Oops.) “I am not a kid!”

The man’s eyes crinkled, betraying a smirk beneath the mask. “You sure sound like one. Did your voice changer run outta juice? Dumbass.” The look hardened into something more serious. “Kid, get out of here. This is no place for some wannabe hero.”

Izuku tensed, quirks rippling through his body in time with his anger but not activating. “I’m not a wannabe ANYTHING! I’m here to find a missing person and maybe bust up this trigger operation in the process. It’s leaking into my city, and I’d like it gone, but the missing woman comes first.”

The other man grabbed the front of Null’s shirt, hauling him off of his feet and into the crate next to them (holy heck this guy was strong. And tall! He had to be topping 6 feet easily). The whole time, he was shocked to realize that the man made absolutely no sound. It must be his quirk!

Null went to speak, only for the other man to hold up a finger. Outside, he could hear some slight commotion.

“Hey! What the fuck?! Three guys down! Go call the boss, we’re pulling out.”

Well, shit.

The other man seemed to come to the same conclusion, looking conflicted before looking resigned, then determined. “Alright kid, listen. Call me Phantom. I do freelance work in the city here, and I’ve been waiting for this supply deal for two months. They cannot get away.” Izuku nodded, listening closely. “Be honest with me, I saw you out there. Can you handle yourself in a fight?”

Null nodded. “More than two guns gets dicey, but I’m great at hand-to-hand.”

“Quirk?”

“Suppression-type. I can repress quirks on contact. Yours?”

“Stealth-type. I can mute any sounds I make and, with focus, anything I touch can be affected, more or less.”

So cool.

“I need to talk to their leader about the person I’m looking for.”

Phantom nodded. “We can work on info after. First, we have to stop them from leaving. I’ll take out the guards roaming around. You head towards the back of the building. Can you stop the boss’ car from leaving?”

Oh, Izuku could definitely do that. He nodded.

“Good. I’ve seen him before. He’s a big bald guy with a white mask over his mouth. Head taller than the rest of the goons, can’t miss him. I’ll meet you back there once the stragglers are down. Time to pull your fuckin’ weight, kid.”

They broke, and Phantom immediately lived up to his namesake and practically disappeared into the night without a sound. So cool.

This was…kind of surreal, actually. At least he had backup? Izuku had a bit of whiplash from how fast Phantom went from move and I’ll shoot you to hey let’s take down this drug ring together. Allies of opportunity, he guessed? Did he fully trust that Phantom wouldn’t shoot him later? Not really. He’d cross that bridge later, though. For now, he had a car to stop.

Leaving his new hammer behind (it was fun but didn’t really fit his style anyways), he pulled on Helium and snuck through the grounds as quickly as he could. None of the guards he saw spotted him, but he only passed by one or two on his way around the side of the warehouse, so he guessed Phantom was keeping his side of things tidy.

As he rounded the back of the building, Izuku immediately homed in on his target. A group of three people was moving from a back door towards what looked like a large pickup truck. Two were in the same black garb as the other goons out front, each carrying what looked like assault rifles over their shoulders. They flanked a much larger man, with harsh eyes and no hair, including a lack of eyebrows. He was wearing a dark collared shirt and a white medical mask over his face. He was carrying a small metal box in one arm and digging through a pocket with the other as the three moved towards the truck.

Izuku had absolutely no plan. He had to stop that truck form leaving, and normally he’d just throw himself at his opponents, but the assault rifles posed an issue. Seriously, who the heck had automatic rifles in Japan anyways? No matter how he went about this it would probably be a pain, but he didn’t really have time to think. The boss finally finished digging the car keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. It was now or never.

Izuku pulled the car keys out of his hand and into his own, clicking the button to re-lock the car with a quiet beep. Immediately both rifles were trained on him, but the boss put a hand up, halting them before Null became the Swiss Cheese Vigilante.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? I suggest you pack up and go home before you get hurt.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. It felt like every jerk on the street had the same three basic intimidating lines.

“I have some questions for you. Answer them honestly, and I’ll give you your car keys back.”

The man raised a brow, looking somewhat amused. “Oh? And what happens if I don’t wanna answer your questions?”

Null tapped a finger to his chin, as if pondering. “I hear jail is pretty nice this time of year. Would be a real shame if you all ended up there with broken legs.”

That just caused the man to chuckle to himself, taking a step forward as he set his box on the hood of the truck and cracked his knuckles. “Big talk, but I have places to be.” He nodded to the man to his right. “Tie him up and throw him in the back. We’ll just take him with us.”

Both men leveled their weapons at his chest and stalked forwards cautiously (Izuku hated working with professionals). He had an idea, but it was a bad one.

Izuku slotted another quirk into place.

The men approached him, one lowering his gun and producing some zip ties from a pocket. With an uttered “Don’t move a muscle” from the gunman, Izuku slowly put his hands out and allowed the goon to start tying him up.

As he did, Izuku used Pull to jam the trigger on the rifle pointed at him, while his other hand lashed out. Given the situation, he didn’t have time to take this man’s quirk before he either got shot or the boss charged him (he at least looked like he had a physical quirk, or was just in super good shape, otherwise) but he could take advantage of one of his less-utilized powers.

His hand quickly brushed along the man’s right arm, around the back of his head, and down is opposite arm, holding his rifle. The man struggled for a moment before both limbs went stiff at his sides. He grunted and struggled but was unable to raise them.

“Hey! What the- I can’t move my fuckin’ arms!”

Izuku twitched his fingers in an un-practiced motion, and the man’s arms rose of their own volition, the rifle now pointing at his friend, who was smacking his own gun, trying to get it to work. Izuku’s head throbbed from using two mental-based quirks at once, but tomorrow’s migraine would be well worth it if he got the information he needed.

Despot was a quirk he really didn’t like using. On contact, if he was fast enough, Izuku could let invisible strings out of his fingers and attach them to peoples’ nerves. It allowed him to control another’s body like a marionette puppet, but there were downsides. The quirk relied on hand dexterity and mental commands together to move the strings, and they could be dislodged pretty easily if he wasn’t careful. He couldn’t do anything complex, given his inexperience with the quirk (the man who had it originally was terrifying with it), but something as simple as ‘point arms at other guy’ was easy enough. He also despised taking someone’s free will away, even in this limited context. It just didn’t sit right with him, meaning he almost never brought this quirk out to play. This situation warranted an exception, but only barely in his opinion.

As the two men struggled, the larger man stepped forwards, but Izuku cut him off by pointing the gun at him. “Don’t move a muscle, unless you want to get shot.”

The goon he had snared looked at him and scowled, before lashing out with a kick. Right, didn’t exactly have time to bind his legs. He’ll probably break his arms out soon. Better wrap this up fast. As he dodged the kick, Null slammed his fist into the man’s temple, staggering him but not putting him down. The second goon had apparently given up on shooting him and ran towards him, brandishing his rifle like a club. Pulling his left hand back, he made the two men run into one another, briefly staggering them both but ending Despot’s influence. Not wanted to waste the chance, Null dashed forwards and ripped the rifle out of his ex-puppet’s hand as he recovered his faculties, pointing it at the one armed man remaining.

“Drop it.”

The remaining guard smirked. “You don’t have the balls, kid.” He raised his rifle back at Izuku, finger on the trigger. He went to use Pull to jam it again, but stopped as pain lanced through his skull. He’d overused that particular trick too many times tonight. It was a weak quirk to begin with, and while it was good for party tricks it was not the one to fall back on. Sadly, this didn’t leave him many options.

“I don’t want to shoot you. Just drop the gun and we can talk.”

He looked to his boss, who was watching with his arms folded, eyes set in a glare. The guard glanced at him and received a nod in return.

“Kill him.”

Izuku flinched, trying in vain to brace for the pain of getting shot, but nothing came. Cracking an eye open, he saw the gunman looking down at his chest, confused, as a pool of red bloomed from a hole in the middle of his shirt. He pawed at it with one hand, before collapsing onto his side on the ground, holding his shirt with both hands and groaning in pain as he began to go into shock. A brief flash shone in the very corner of his peripheral vision, and the second guard fully dropped as well.

Izuku’s eyes blew wide as he looked to assess whether the two men in front of his were dead, meaning he was caught off guard as a large arm slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Pain lanced through his already pounding head at the impact, and he winced as his arm felt like it had been cut in several places. Looking down, blood leaked slowly into his sleeve.

A blur in his vision had him rolling backwards and to his feet as a fist came down to meet pavement where he’d been sprawled, a loud crackle like glass echoing off the nearby crates and buildings. The boss’ arm had just missed pulverizing him, covered in jagged blue crystals of some sort. It was an interesting quirk to be sure, but Izuku had no time to appreciate it.

The man reared his arm back again, before crystal quickly bloomed across his chest in a flash, ruining his shirt. A section of the crystal shattered an instant later, and looking down Izuku saw a piece of metal bounce across the ground. Another bullet, then.

“Not gunna cut it. If you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you!” He rushed Null in a heartbeat, another silenced bullet bouncing off the man’s hardened exterior. Phantom must be shooting! Izuku ducked under the first swing, then a second, then a third, slowly backing away from the truck as he did so. The man was strong to be sure, but his attacks spoke of little to no combat training, just wild beatdowns. That gave Izuku an edge. Sadly, the nature of his quirk meant that it was pretty much either dodge or get shredded.

Their dance continued, but after a few more shots his ranged backup ceased. Phantom must have been out of bullets. Realizing this, the crystals across the boss’ body receded until only his arms were covered. Possibly a stamina issue, then. Now that his opponent wasn’t a diamond-flavored porcupine, Izuku pushed the offensive a bit. He targeted weak points in the knee joints, toes, the crotch, every dirty trick he’d been taught and had practiced as a vigilante. There was no such thing as a fair fight when your life was on the line. As he swept in with a strong kick to the stomach, the man backhanded Null right in the helmet, dragging jagged crystals down his shoulder and chest and sending him backwards a few feet, into the man’s own downed companions.

Both of them were wobbling on their feet at this point. The crystal guy was a lot bigger and stronger than Izuku was, but he had done more damage and was the better fighter. They were more or less tied. Both of them perked up as the familiar sound of sirens kicked up in the distance. At that, the man straightened up.

“Out of time. Get outta my way, squirt.”

Null squared his shoulders, ignoring how the motion further aggravated his injuries. He kept silent to avoid sounding hurt, but his posture sent the message.

The man sighed. “Fine. Your loss.” He reached behind his back for something, only partly grabbing whatever it was before a louder crack echoed through the air with a spray of blood. The man grabbed his now wounded shoulder and glanced to the side. One of the downed goons, now unconscious, pointed his assault rifle at his boss. Izuku had managed to re-attach one of Despot’s strings when he was knocked down, but he was pretty steadily moving into quirk exhaustion territory.

Letting out a tsk, the boss activated his quirk across his body again and stepped forward, but Izuku (barely) brought the rifle to bare, aiming directly at his chest. The two stared at one another, crystal-covered eyes boring twin holes into the helmet that hid Izuku’s sweat-covered brow and the trickle of blood escaping from his nose.

The sirens were growing closer, quickly.

“We won’t forget this, kid.” The man backed up a few steps before setting off in a run behind a row of larger crates, grabbing the metal box he’d been carrying on the way. Null could definitely catch him, but he was exhausted, and the incoming sirens were a problem.

I’m gunna regret this.

Utilizing Despot one last time, Izuku had the unconscious guard shoot at his boss’ arm. The shot punched a hole right through the man’s hand, who curled in on himself and cursed loudly. The box went clattering to the ground and, after a moment of tense hesitation, the man abandoned it and kept running when Izuku took another wide potshot at him. The sirens were close enough to nearly see the cars, meaning it was well past time to leave. He had no idea where Phantom went, but at this point it hardly mattered.

Izuku snatched the box from the ground and sprinted into the night.

Chapter Text

Izuku’s back hit the rooftop so hard he nearly blacked out. His head felt like someone was driving an ice pick into it, his chest burned, his wounds stung and sluggishly bled, and his legs had cramped up because he forgot to stretch again.

Once the police had grown close, Izuku had snatched up whatever metal lockbox the head of the supply deal had brought and booked it as far as he could run. He had just barely climbed onto the roof of a nearby apartment building via the fire escape, before collapsing in a heap. His breath came in ragged pants, and now that he had taken stock of his varying injuries and sources of exhaustion, he decided he was taking a break from being Null for at least a few days. He laid there, resting, as a silent, familiar visage leaned into his field of vision.

“You look like shit, kid. I thought you said you could handle yourself.” Phantom said, looking unimpressed, best Izuku could tell.

“Screw…you…where the hell…did you go, anyways?”

Izuku pulled himself to a sitting position, trying his best to ignore his still-bleeding arm. Phantom leaned against the edge of the roof, bordered by a short wall. He spoke quietly, not even sounding tired.

“Taking out the guards took time. Matter of fact, if you hadn’t shot someone the police would have never shown up.”

Damn, he had a point. Izuku, Null, was supposed to be good at this. He took down regular crooks and minor villains no problem, but as of late he’d been finding himself outmatched and outgunned more and more often. Maybe he wasn’t as capable as he had assumed (you failed, a voice in his head whispers. You’ll let them all down, just like you failed her). Maybe he-

“I also doubled back to the warehouse and grabbed a few things, after I ran out of ammo.”

Broken out of his spiraling thoughts, Izuku glanced up, seeing several stacks of papers in Phantom’s gloved hands.

“This was a backup location, so a lot of their records weren’t on site, but I was able to find a few leads into some threads I’ve been following.”

“Just the drugs? Or?”

He shook his head. “They mention moving some cargo around, but the patterns are off from their usual routes and the equipment they need for transport is a lot more than if they were just carting chemicals around.”

Izuku perked up. “So you think it could be related to my missing person’s case?”

Phantom nodded. “No way to know for sure, but it’s something. Could also be lab equipment though. Why do you think they’re trafficking anyways? Not that I’d put it past them, but I’ve been tailing different dealers here for a few months now, and I haven’t seen any evidence of people being moved around.”

Izuku frowned to himself, not that Phantom could see it. “That’s just it, I DON’T know, but it’s the only lead I have. I’m looking for a quirkless woman named Nashi. Her case got dumped, but when I went to her apartment, she had wrote a name on the floor during a struggle, which is when I assume she was taken. The name was Takashi, which lead me here.”

“I know that name. Takashi was one of their main distributors before he got nabbed. I assume that was you?”

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”

“Takashi was dealing in things outside of the drug trade, along with a few other members. I’m not sure if it’s directly related, or if a few people are trying to make some cash on the side or not. Most of the people we saw tonight were of that type. They asked you for your ‘mark’, right?” Phantom asked.

“Yeah. Do you know what they meant?”

Phantom poked an arm out of his cloak, revealing a thick padded shirt, also black. He rolled his sleeve up, revealing very pale skin. He pointed to the underside of his forearm, close to his elbow. “They have a bird tattoo, right here. I’ve seen it a few times but never really knew what it was outside of a symbol of affiliation. Might be a good place to start. That and whatever’s in that box. Open it up.”

Izuku startled, having completely forgotten about the box. Pulling it over, he glanced at the other vigilante sheepishly.

“Uh…I don’t suppose you can pick locks, can you?”

Phantom put his face into his hand, groaning. “For fucks sake kid, did you just roll out of primary school or what? What kind of vigilante can’t pick a lock?”

Izuku flushed, embarrassed. “Hey! I do just FINE back home! I’ve just never needed to-”

“Oh quit your whining! Pass the box over, I’ll show you how to do it.”

He paused, mid-rant, a finger up to iterate his next point. “Oh? Uh, thanks?”

The two spent the next few minutes in relative quiet, outside of muttered instructions. Phantom produced a basic lockpick set from one of his many pockets to let Izuku try, saying that they were ‘his shitty spares’ and that he ‘might as well waste them on teaching an idiot how to breathe’.

It was tricky, but satisfying. If he were less tired and less injured, he would say that it was almost fun. Something was bugging him, though.

“Um, Phantom…senpai? Sir?”

The older man grimaced. “Ew, no. Just Phantom, kid.”

“Er, right. Sorry. It’s just…why are you helping me?” Realizing how that could come across, Izuku waved his hands in front of him. “N-not that I’m not grateful! You’ve been a huge help tonight and I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it myself and your quirk is super helpful and I-”

“Kid, breathe.”

“Sorry.” Izuku hadn’t gone off like that in years. Then again, when was the last time he had a full conversation with someone that wasn’t Hana-chan?

“Listen. I helped because I wanted to, and we both had something to gain. Simple as that. It’s a tough gig out here, and I wasn’t just gunna leave you to die on your own. Isn’t that the POINT of this?” He said, gesturing around them with his hands.

Izuku nodded. “I…guess you’re right. Thank you, Phantom.”

Ka-ping!

After fiddling with it for a few more minutes, the lid of the box popped open. Izuku pumped his fist with a quiet ‘yes!’ before opening it.

Inside was a cluster of three small…vials? They looked like they were made of hard plastic or glass, and were a solid red color. They were nested perfectly into the plush padding of the case, next to a syringe.

“What…is this?”

Phantom leaned over to take a look. It was hard to get a read on someone who hid most of their body, but he didn’t seem to recognize it, at the very least.

“I have no idea. Doesn’t look like trigger. Maybe a new kind of drug?” he asked, but Izuku just shrugged. Phantom continued.

“The problem with big operations like this is that they usually shouldn’t be able to operate so openly like this. That means they probably have ins with the police. So we can’t turn this in, might as well just destroy it.”

Izuku was struck with an idea. It might end up being a bad one, like most of his ideas. But then again, his bad ideas tended to work out one way or another.

“Actually, I know a guy.”

Phantom raised a brow at him. “You know a guy…for what?”

Izuku took stock of the contents one more time before closing the box with a quiet ‘click’. “I know someone in my local police station that…I think could be trustworthy. What if I give it to him?”

Phantom looked unimpressed. “I JUST SAID they have ties with the cops, so you wanna hand it over to a cop? Are you not listening?”

Izuku shook his head. “I HEARD what you said, Phantom. It’s actually the detective that’s been assigned to my case. We have a…good rapport going. Let me hang onto the case, and if I deem him trustworthy enough, I’ll hand it over. Otherwise I’ll just destroy it.”

“You sure you wanna hang on to that level of contraband? Villains would do a lot for the kind of money that mystery drug is probably worth, not to mention what the cops would do.”

Izuku gulped. He had not, in fact, thought of that. He DID, however, just obtain another probably-bad idea.

“I think I know just where to put it.”

It’s several, several hours later, when Izuku finally gets back to Musutafu.

He had spent a bit more time on that roof, wrapping his wounds as best he could and trying to get information out of Phantom (the man was a steel trap). He did manage to weasel contact information out of the silent man, in hopes they could work together on future busts (‘so I don’t lose sleep over some kid getting in over his head’). He ached all over, and was thoroughly exhausted. It was well past time to go home.

He had changed his clothes in an alley again, although a different one from last time. If that same hero had shown up again Izuku would have absolutely taken his quirk as a sign from the universe, but he had been blissfully unbothered. Lightly jogging, painfully, to the station, Izuku had managed to barely catch the last train out of Hosu, immediately passing out in his seat.

He had awoken to his station getting called, blearily grabbing his things (the case cannot forget the case) and stumbling out into the road. He was excited, thrilled even, at how well tonight had gone. He had real leads, actual threads to follow for the first time in his investigation, and even some backup, even though they were in Hosu. He was more excited, though, to collapse into his bed and sleep the day away.

One thing to do first, though. He had a case to stash.

Bright, unforgiving sun and the sound of waves roused Mina from an exhausted sleep. She blinked a few times, blurry vision giving way to red, chipped paint and broken glass. She stretched as much as she could, wrapped in an old sleeping bag and every sweater she could fit in her bag. It had been pretty chilly last night.

This had been her life for the past few weeks, ever since her…birth-people…had kicked her out. After her brief moment of respite in the library, she’d realized she needed a place to sleep. She also realized that she had absolutely no money. Her birth-people had never so much as used the word allowance out loud, and stealing from them had felt wrong. She’d searched a few places on the library computer, but hadn’t really come up with anything, so she just jumped from forum to forum for Musutafu locals until she settled on something interesting.

Dagobah Beach. A once-pristine little oceanfront turned into a perpetual junkyard. Locals avoided it like the plague and the city blatantly didn’t care about it. The smell was also pretty bad, so even homeless people and criminals stayed away, for the most part. Meaning that it was the perfect place for Mina to sleep.

With her quirk, she was actually immune to a lot of pollutants and chemicals, and she could even fill her nose with a weak, viscous acid to block out bad smells! (An old trick she learned when some nasty kids locked her in the janitor’s closet at her first middle school). Acid could replace a shower, more or less, even if her clothes were still pretty gross. She had even found an abandoned van to sleep in! As far as crappy situations went, she was certainly making the most of it.

She’d wake up with the sun just about every day, and after making herself as presentable as possible, she’d go to the library and set up at a computer for the day, alternating between her online classes (which she was now moving through at a rapid pace) and poking around the internet.

Water was easy. She had a reusable bottle, and the library had water fountains. She had shelter, even if it was drafty she still stayed mostly dry when it rained which counted for something. She had entertainment and climate-controlled rooms during the day. She had access to the internet! She really shouldn’t complain.

Her stomach growled.

Okay, food was a problem. Food, unfortunately, cost money, that beautiful thing she ran out of three days ago. Too be honest, she…wasn’t doing too well on that front. She’d started losing weight pretty fast, and Suki-san was starting to shoot her concerned looks when she walked into the library every day. But it was fine! She’d just have to look up a solution! There had to be free food around somewhere, right? Maybe a grocery store was offering free samples or something.

“Morning, Suki-san!” Mina waved at the desk lady like she did every day. The foam the woman’s hair was made of shifted and wiggled as her head moved up from whatever she was reading on her desk. Her eyes scanned Mina’s person, before hardening.

“Ashido-san-”

“Just call me Mina already! I like it better!”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, Mina-san, come here for a second.”

Mina wandered over, curiously taking in the older woman as she rummaged in her bag for a moment, before producing some kind of small black box, slightly smaller than a shoe box.

“What ’cha got there?” She asked curiously.

The woman smiled at her, before removing the lid and revealing a bento. Fluffy white rice lined the bottom, while the various little compartments were filled with what looked like veggies and some tiny grilled fish. Mina flushed bright purple as her stomach growled loudly in the quiet of the room. As she went to apologize, Suki’s smile turned smug, but her eyes softened.

“Sweetheart, you don’t look like you’ve been eating. So here, have this.”

Mina’s eyes widened. She wasn’t that obvious, was she? “Suki-san, no! I can’t accept that! I eat plenty!”

The look turned hard. “We both know that’s a load of garbage, hun. Listen, I won’t pry about your situation if you don’t want me to, but my husband made me too much today anyways, the oaf.”

“B-but I-”

“Eat it or I’m taking your library card.”

Mina’s back went straight. “Yes ma’am!”

Suki’s look turned soft again. “I know there’s usually no food allowed inside, but I’m trusting you not to make a mess. You can eat at your station, just drop the box back here when you’re done.”

She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Sniffling just a little, she gingerly accepted the box and some chopsticks. “T-thanks, Suki-san. Sorry to be a bother. I’ll pay you back later, okay?”

The librarian just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on, now.” After being shooed away from the desk, Mina finally let a tear roll down her face as she took her first bite of food in days. Maybe it was the hunger talking, but this was probably the best rice she’d ever had. She polished off the boxed lunch in minutes, still feeling hungry but no longer woozy. She waited until Suki went to the bathroom to put the box back on her desk, before sliding back into her seat and booting up her usual computer and taking a deep breath to banish any unwanted thoughts.

She was pretty ahead in her online classes at this point. Studying wasn’t exactly something she liked doing, but when it was either that or nothing, one tended to gain at least a passing interest. Her grades had definitely improved since leaving that hellhole of a middle school. Turns out she could actually take a test if she didn’t have classmates throwing paper at her the entire time and a teacher glaring at her for existing. What a concept!

She figured taking a day to goof off wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She spent a bit of time finishing a class module from yesterday, before sifting through various online forums, watching some dancing tutorials, usual teenager stuff. Hours drifted by, and before she knew it afternoon had struck. She obviously had plenty of time to waste before the library closed, but at this point she was a bit bored.

Should I go outside? I spend all night out there, and I’d rather not deal with mutant hate today, so no. Maybe Suki needs help with something? Nah, don’t wanna bother her. I’m pretty much at the bottom of Youtube. School work sounds dull, all I have left is the math unit. Maybe some independent research?

Mina spent some time, drifting through different subjects, but nothing seemed to interest her today. She had gone down a rabbit hole on the history of mutant quirks again, when she stumbled across an article on a blog she hadn’t heard of.

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

New post in [#quirkDiscussions] by BuffaloSauceHawks (9:09am):

Is it weird to anyone else how some quirks have nothing to do with their own mutations? My neighbor… [Read More]

Figuring she had nothing else to do, Mina clicked on the button to take her to the rest of the post, but was met with an add obstacle.

Page Locked. Please create an account to view posts.

Huh. That was odd for a blog site, but maybe they were in it for profit? Mina decided to check. If the site costs money, she’d bail. If it didn’t, maybe she had something to occupy her time.

After navigating to the ‘create an account’ page, Mina was surprised by how thorough it was. This wasn’t just registering; this was an application! Apparently, there were interview questions? She balked a bit as that part of the application popped up, troubling her hunger-addled brain.

Welcome to the interview section! Please answer the below questions honestly, they will be reviewed by our staff before account creation.

1. Who is your favorite hero and why?

2. What makes a good hero?

3. What is a current issue with how hero society operates, and how would you change it?

4. If you could have any quirk, real or imagined, what would it be?

5. What else about yourself would you like to share, if anything?

…interesting. Well, Mina wasn’t exactly shy, and maybe this was just a way for whoever ran the sight to get to know their users! Even though it was basically a test, which she hates, the questions were at least interesting. She bet they used this data for targeted ads or something.

The first two questions were easy (Miruko was a badass who also happened to have a mutant quirk, and ‘saving people’ was a pretty obvious answer). Mina had a LOT to say for question 3, and she was glad there wasn’t a character limit. She’d written shorter essays for school, but obviously mutant discrimination was a bit of a hot-button issue for her, especially now. As for the rest…

Any quirk at all? Mina’s first thought was just something that doesn’t make me look like a monster’, but that thought was quickly abandoned. It was better some days than others, but Mina really, really tried to love how she looked. Pink was pretty! And her eyes were interesting! Her horns were cute! There were all things she kept telling herself, but…well, there were days where that voice was a lot quieter than the voices of literally everyone else.

Her second thought was the ability to create food, but maybe that was the slight starvation talking. Maybe something like a friendship-making quirk? It sounded nice at first, but then she realized it sounded kinda…brainwashey. And made her sound a bit lonely. Which she wasn’t, obviously.

4. My quirk has caused me a lot of issues. But I still like it! I can’t really picture myself with any other quirk, so honestly if I had the choice I think I’d just keep mine.

5. I love dancing! I’ve been watching videos since I was a little kid and taught myself how to breakdance. I’m pretty dang good at it, too!

Nodding to herself, Mina hit submit on her application, and changed tabs sifting through some funny videos and further procrastinated on her math. It was only a few minutes later when her newly-created email chimed with a notification, stating that her account application had been accepted. Excited, she went and clicked on the same post she had seen before, after picking a username of course.

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

New post in [#quirkDiscussions] by BuffaloSauceHawks (9:09am):

Is it weird to anyone else how some quirks have nothing to do with their own mutations? My neighbors are a family of people with turtle quirks, which I assumed were pretty simple, right? NO, apparently they all have different emitter quirks? Like, one of the kids can spray water from his mouth, and another can breathe fire. The dad has like, steam breath? What the heck does any of that have to do with turtles?

8 likes 4 comments

Comment by DancingQueen222 (2:18pm):

It’s super weird, right?! I’m the same way. Emitter-type quirk with a totally mutant body type. Like, if you squint they’re kinda related but also not really?

Comment by SmallMight189 (2:20pm):

There’s actually pretty compelling research on that! I could link it here, or maybe just explain it?

Comment by GoldFishBlues (2:21pm):

Here he is, back at it again with the obscure research.

Comment by HawksisNotaBird42 (2:24pm):

Smallmight, please. My computer couldn’t even load the last essay you wrote in here.

Comment by SmallMight189 (2:25pm):

Sorry…It’s just really interesting!

Comment by HawksisNotaBird42 (2:26pm):

Wait shit sorry I didn’t mean it like that! I was kidding, dude!

Comment by DancingQueen222 (2:26pm):

Yeah wait I wanna see it! What if you give like, a quick summary and post the link so I can read it later? I wanna see if I’m WEIRD-weird or just weird.

Comment by GoldFishBlues (2:29pm):

Good going Hawks you scared him off.

Comment by SmallMight189 (2:31pm):

OKAY so lingering or unused genes that are passed down can sometimes manifest as what’s called ‘vestigial mutations’. Basically, things that would have been considered a quirk in the first few generations of quirk users but now are more or less just leftover stuff that ‘could’ have manifested as someone’s quirk but didn’t. Leading theory is that some quirk genes are recessive while others are more dominant, but jury is still out on that one. A prime example of this is hair color. Plenty of people have ‘unusual’ hair colors but no matching quirk characteristics, or sometimes no quirk at all! For a hero example, take Ingenium! He has blue hair, which a few centuries ago would have been seen as impossible or a mutation itself, but it’s now just a natural hair color, while his quirk gives him engines in his arms, which is totally unrelated! Now there are obviously more extreme cases, like the neighbors in this post, or DancingQueen222 apparently. Those more extreme cases are one of the leading supporting suggestions towards Quirk Doomsday Theory (which I ranted about in this comment thread) but could also just be evidence of an increasing rate of mutations within the quirked populations. It may be connected to where quirks came from in the first place, but leading science suggests (Read More)

Comment by Smallmight189 (2:31pm):

Here is the link to that article. I also found 3 more on vestigial mutations, mutation features of emitter quirks, and the quirk Punnet Square, for some light reading if you’re interested!

Comment by Smallmight189 (2:31pm): Also, DancingQueen222! You aren’t weird! I’m sure your quirk is awesome! Don’t listen to anyone that says it isn’t!

Comment by GoldFishBlues (2:36 pm):

How…how did you type that so fast?

Comment by DancingQueen222 (2:38 pm): Awe, thanks! Sweet of you to say! I’ll check out those links later :)

Comment by BuffaloSauceHawks(2:42 pm):

Okay I skimmed that first article. This is some wild stuff actually. Thanks SmallMight!

Mina opened the first article with a smirk, further abandoning her math work. She was gunna like it here.

Chapter Text

Patrol had been going well tonight.

Shouta had already stopped two muggers and busted up one drug deal. It was the kind of night that let the hours bleed away, allowing Shouta to lose himself to his work and do his job as efficiently as possible without thinking about how tired he was. He had looped through one of his favorite routes, slowly getting closer to home, and had even considered stopping at his favorite neighborhood café for an early-morning coffee. These things, however, would have to wait, because as he moved across another set of roofs, Shouta noticed something.

He was being followed.

It had happened before, for a multitude of reasons. A criminal or villain trying their luck, or a cop that mistook him for a homeless person. Once in a very blue moon, a newer hero would mistake him for a vigilante (which lead to him annoying said hero as much as possible). Regardless of the reason, though, this person was apparently trying to follow Shouta home, which was obviously not going to happen.

Now, Shouta had been a successful underground hero for more than a decade, he knew how to shake a tail. He could lose them effortlessly, especially if he was familiar with the area. He could loop back and confront the person directly. He could do a handful of things, but none of them would net him any information. He wanted to know why he was being tailed, and what the person’s intentions were. To do that, he began to take long, erratic paths, looping and doubling back on one another. It was annoying, boring, almost mind-numbing in its pointlessness. He vaulted over dumpsters and clambered up rooftops just to descend the next building over. He would turn around and backtrack the same way he had just come from, forcing his pursuer to hide or risk direct confrontation.

All of this served two purposes. The first was to gauge the skill of his tail. Whoever was on him was good, Shouta would give them that. He would almost lose track of them at times, before the hairs on the back of his neck would rise again, alerting him of eyes on his back. Whoever they were also made nearly no sound, their footsteps light as a mouse. A skill either derived from a quirk or a LOT of practice moving quietly.

The second purpose of this little detour was to frustrate the pursuer. He wanted them to rush, to grow impatient and make a mistake. This took a lot longer than Shouta had expected, further cementing their skill and experience. He’d have to be on his guard. After over an hour, Shouta bounced between two buildings, his capture weapon unfurled and acting as an additional point of contact as he climbed, finally moving between the wall of the left building and a large air conditioning unit on the roof. He ducked low, moving across the roof quickly and more quietly than he had been. Shifting around the large metal box of the AC unit, Shouta hid, waiting.

A pair of light, quiet feet hit the roof on the other side.

Shouta’s capture weapon snapped out like a lashing snake, wrapping around the figure tightly, nearly to the point of suffocation but not quite, just enough to show he meant business.

“Ow! Hey!”

Shouta blinked once. Twice. The figure he had caught tailing him was…not who he had expected. Short in stature, with almost casual streetwear aside from heavy padding. A cobbled-together utility belt full of party store gags. A familiar black helmet that was leagues nicer than the rest of his equipment.

“Null? Why are you following me, kid?”

The vigilante straightened. “Eraser! How-hrk! How are you? I, uh, just wanted to-Ow! Catch up, see how you were?”

“What.”

“Ow! Let me go! This hurts, you know!”

Shouta narrowed his eyes. It’s a lot looser than it would be for an actual villain. Is he injured, or hamming it up for sympathy? Flicking his wrist, his scarf rapidly unwound itself from Null’s body before settling back around his neck. The kid (he definitely had to be a kid, Shouta had a feeling) rubbed his arm gingerly and tried to straighten otherwise weary posture. An injury, then.

“You’re hurt, kid, what happened?”

Like a switch, all signs of weariness and fatigue washed off of Null like dirt in a heavy rain. He can really put on an act. Kid or not, I’ll have to keep an eye on that. “I’m fine, Eraserhead! Just a long patrol last night! That’s, uh, actually why I’ve been, well, following you.”

“Stalking me.”

“I was not STALKING you!” The kid squawked. “I was…just checking on you!”

“By following me in the dead of night.”

“Well…yes.”

“You were trying to follow me home.”

Null crossed his arms. “Okay it sounds super creepy when you put it like that! I wanted to talk to you about something, and I wanted some privacy!”

Now that was new. Null seemed pretty against working with him before. Shouta wondered what changed, hoping the vigilante hadn’t gotten in over his head. And what did he need to discuss, that required a private setting?

“Why can’t we just discuss it at your place, instead of mine?”

Now his posture straightened into something defensive. “I’m not showing you where I live! That’s like, asking to get arrested!” So, likely not homeless, then. That’s something.

Outwardly, Shouta shrugged. “Worth a shot. But obviously, if I wanted to arrest you, I would’ve just kept you in my capture weapon.”

Null halted. “Well, uh…yeah. I guess so. Thanks.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it, kid. You said you had something to discuss, right? Come on, I know just the place.” He turned his back to the vigilante, hopefully showing a bit of trust, and leapt from the roof. The fact that Null was showing even this amount of trust was a massive step in a good direction. What changed? He wondered.

Now that his ears were attuned to it, he could barely hear Null following him through town. How was this kid so quiet with his landings? Shouta was actually a bit envious, that was some decent skill there. He wound through a few blocks, internally relieved to be done with his wild goose chase (even if he was the goose in this case), until he heard Null’s steps cease. Turning around, the vigilante was tapping a finger to his helmet, clearly in thought. Shouta stood there for a minute or so, watching, until he turned back to him.

“Quick detour. I want to show you something, but I need to grab it.”

Odd, but not too odd, he supposed. “Lead the way. What is it?”

“Not sure! I think it’s drugs, though.” he said, completely nonplussed.

“....what.”

Without a word, Null led him a few blocks out of the way, stopping at the local library. Walking up to the entrance, gloved hands plunged into a large potted plant (likely fake) framing the main staircase. After a moment, Null produced what looked like a small metallic box, maybe some kind of case? It looked a bit worn, and was a bit bigger than a shoebox.

“So let me get this straight. You’ve acquired what might be drugs of some kind. And instead of turning them in, or trashing them, or anything logical-”

“Hey!”

“-You stashed them in a potted plant in a public area, hoping that nobody would find them.”

“.... well, it worked, so.”

Shouta was trying very hard not to regret this arrangement.

After leveling a very unimpressed look at the vigilante, Shouta led them to his favorite local café, called Darker Brews. It was one of the only 24-hour joints in the city, and its dark roast coffee was something worth retiring for. Grabbing his usual from the girl at the counter, Shouta lead Null (who refused to get anything on account of his helmet- small steps) to a back booth. Bringing out his phone, he opened an app Nedzu had coded for him and the other UA staff members. His phone quickly scanned an approximate 10-meter radius, before beeping and lighting up green.

“Alright, we’re free of any bugs or recording devices. What’s up, kid?”

Said kid’s fingers drummed across the table, nervously. Shouta took an extra-loud slurp of his coffee.

“I got in over my head last night.” Called that.  “I got bailed out by another vigilante, but that was lucky. I just…I need to know something, first. I need to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tsukauchi was serious in what he said.”

That was an interesting start, and not at all what Shouta had been expecting. “What did he say? I know he spoke to you, but he didn’t give me specifics.”

The drumming picked up in speed. “He…really talked you up. Said that I could…trust you, and that you wouldn’t take my case to the Commission.”

The Commission again, huh? There’s more there, but maybe it’d be best to not bring it up this time.

“That’s an easy thing to promise. The Commission only employs me because they employ pretty much every hero. My paycheck comes from the local government, from Tsukauchi, since he sub-contracted me for your case, and UA, where I teach. Their role is strictly an oversight.”

“So…”

“So I can promise to not report anything on your case to them. If the detective mentioned it, that means he’s willing to play ball too. Underground heroes are more independent, and even if they tried to fire me Nedzu would just blackmail them or something. You don’t have to worry about them with me, kid. Although I am curious as to what your aversion to them is.”

Null paused. “Right. Good.” Not answering the question, then. “So, first, I need to tell you what I’ve been working on.”

And he did. Null, Shouta realized, was a rambler. He spun a tale of Nashi, a woman he was convinced had been trafficked by the same group responsible for the uptick in Trigger sales across the area. Convinced her case was connected to another rash of alleged kidnappings and random disappearances. How he had tracked this woman through frankly ridiculous connections and flimsy evidence.

He had investigated on his own, from a random apartment to Hosu, of all places, where he (and apparently, another vigilante he refused to name) had broken up a rather large supply trade, taking down a fairly high-end criminal in the process. Even if the man got away in the end.

And, apparently, he had gotten his ass kicked. Over a dozen villains, with various quirks and plenty of guns, all organized in a brutal efficiency that nearly cost Null his life.

Shouta crossed his arms. “Not a smart move, kid. How did you get the better of that many people and escape with all that you did? And don’t think I can’t see you’re injured in some way. Give me some credit.”

Null chuckled, sheepishly. “Well, that’s a long story, but Pha-uh, the other vigilante helped a ton. He took a lot of the smaller guys down. He also snuck into the warehouse and got some papers they left behind in the rush, and I got this case.” He patted the metal box in the booth next to him. “The papers talk about moving ‘supplies’, but don’t list what those supplies actually are. Also, the resources dedicated to moving those supplies are a lot more than what they normally use, apparently. Speaks to larger cargo, if nothing else, but I think it’s how they’re moving the people.”

Shouta nodded along. “An assumption, but still a logical one. It warrants a look if nothing else. And the case?”

Null heaved the case onto the table with a quiet thud. “It’s…I’m not sure. It’s obvious it’s some kind of drug, but it doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before. I can’t really hang onto it, so I was hoping you or Tsukauchi could take a look at it.” As he opened the case, Aizawa laid his eyes on the strange red vials inside. Glancing at Null and receiving a nod, he reached in a lifted one of the vials, holding it up to the light and peering inside.

“It doesn’t look like Trigger, at least based on the color. Both the black market and official American types are green. It’s not dark enough to be blood, I think, unless it was mixed with something else. Hard to tell without putting a sample into the lab.” Shouta returned the vial and shut the case, before sliding it to his side of the table. Null hung on for just a moment, before letting it go. He placed it gingerly in the seat next to his.

“I’ll bring it to Tsukauchi, and we’ll run it through the lab.” Null nodded. It was hard to read him like this, but his shoulders relaxed. He seemed relieved. “I do have a question though.” At Null’s nod, he asked, “Why Nashi? Plenty of people go missing each year, and plenty of people, sadly, get lost to drugs. Why Nashi, specifically?”

The kid tensed in his seat, before slumping. His head snapped up, and Shouta assumed he was looking into his eyes.

“She’s quirkless.”

Shouta sucked in a quiet breath. Quirkless people, while rare, weren’t unheard of, but society treated them like garbage. Like they were disposable. Limelight heroes didn’t see much of it, but quirkism was rampant in Japan, now more than ever. The quirkless, while increasingly rare with each generation, were at the bottom of the proverbial totem pole.

This told Shouta a few things, though. One was that Null really did have a soft spot for the people society forgot, the people it scorned and beat down just because they were born a certain way. It wasn’t fair, by any means, but he supposed that was life, sometimes. It was a hero’s job to combat that unfairness, after all. But it also connected a very important dot.

“Your quirk.”

Null stiffened again, but did not deny it. Shouta continued. “You can, somehow, render people permanently quirkless.”

A long, long pause. Shouta sat there, blank-faced. Not judging, not accusing, simply sitting in the aftermath of that statement, waiting for a response. It took a few minutes, but he got one.

“I can. I…really don’t like doing that to someone, but sometimes it can’t be helped. It’s not fair, and I always undo it when I can, but sometimes-” he seemed to stop himself from continuing the thought, shaking his head before hopping to a new train of thought. “Nobody is looking for Nashi. Nobody else ever will. She’ll die out there, subjected to god knows what, because of a stupid extra joint in her pinky toe.” His voice was rising as he spoke, becoming more impassioned, almost angry. The kid was a mixed bag, moving between an angry, vengeful figure in a dark alleyway and a stuttering, unsure kid seemingly at random. It made Shouta wonder, in that moment, just who this kid was, and what his life must have been like to make him this way.

“It’s a way to repent for the people I’ve robbed of their powers, but it’s also a promise. Nobody wants to save Nashi, which means that I’m going to save her. More than just my quirk, I’m the Nobody. I save the people Nobody wants to save. That’s what Null means.”

And damn, if Shouta wasn’t already starting to like this kid. He grinned, his signature grin that made his students shrivel in on themselves, and made the other teachers avoid him like the plague.

“Alright then, Null. Let’s get planning.”

Izuku returned home just before dawn. He was sore and exhausted in more ways than one, but his phone was one contact heavier and his shoulders felt a few pounds lighter.

Was he nervous about bringing Eraserhead in on his case? Absolutely. But, talking with the hero for so long eased a lot of his initial anxiety. He’d had every opportunity to bring Null in, and didn’t. There’s always the chance of a betrayal down the line, and Izuku will keep an eye on him for any…unpleasantness, but for now the man was a useful and reliable ally. He had left the odd vials in his expert care, curious as to what they contained and how they related to the case. Eraserhead had also given him some insight on what to do next.

“The tattoos you mentioned, the bird mark? They just scream yakuza. I’ll get in touch with some other underground pros, see if the mark has popped up anywhere else and get back to you. In the meantime, let’s keep our ears open for any more of those supply deals.”

Admittedly, following up on leads was much easier when you had an actual information network to utilize, and not a bunch of homeless people, sketchy teenagers, and small-time villains to bribe into telling you things that were lies like 40% of the time. It was a lot easier on his very small wallet, too.

So Izuku would wait and see what Eraserhead brought to the table. If it didn’t work out, he could bail town, as much as it would suck to start over. He could try and hold the man’s quirk hostage or something, but really didn’t want to resort to that unless the Commission actually got involved.

In which case Izuku would probably be dead anyways.

Shoving that thought back into the Dark Vault of Repressed Thoughts, Izuku finally wormed his way back to his apartment, relieved to maybe take a day or two off to actually heal properly. His arm was killing him, and he was pretty sure he still had a bruised rib. His migraine had devolved into a semi-debilitating headache, which while manageable still sucked. Gently pulling on Helium, he silently climbed his way up the fire escape and to his balcony-

And- because of course- he could already hear someone in his safehouse again. Rooting through his stuff. Again.

He sighed, thoroughly annoyed. This had been happening with more frequency lately. More desperate homeless people, looking for a warm place to crash as the nights got colder. More druggies had been scouring every available space for things to pawn for cash, in hopes of obtaining their next high.

The anonymity was great, but sometimes Izuku hated living in this part of town.

Creeping over to the side of the fire escape, he gently set his helmet on the ground. He didn’t want whoever was in there to realize he was Null, especially if he had to use a quirk. No, Izuku would be more than enough for this. Whoever it was clearly had no idea what they were looking for, based on the bangs and crashes of things being knocked over on the far side of the space.

Nobody has any respect for other peoples’ things!

Angrily climbing into the window, Izuku brought up Pull, as well as his newest quirk from last night’s bust. Infra-Sight, as he had taken to calling it, felt cool and tightly wound. It was a fairly straightforward transformation quirk that let him change his eyes and basically gave him thermal vision. It, as he had surmised, was how that stupid thug had spotted him in the first place outside of the warehouse. It had been pretty useful earlier, when he’d been following Eraserhead through the darkened city streets.

Scanning his apartment, he didn’t notice anything in the immediate area, but could hear the sounds of a struggle. By his best guess, more than one person had found their way inside and they were currently fighting over their loot. Too bad for them then, that Izuku’s things weren’t up for grabs, and that he was feeling particularly impatient at the moment.

Moving in a bit further, vision turning blue with his new eyesight, he scanned the back of the large open space, seeing a large red blob in the back, close to his icebox. As he crept closer, details became more apparent. Two separate figures, one much larger than the other. The larger figure looked like he had some kind of mutant quirk, judging by the unusual shape. They were pressing the other figure into the ground, maybe trying to crush them?

“Hold still, you little-”

He heard the telltale snap of a bone snapping, and a yelp from the much smaller figure beneath him. Putting Infra-Sight away and hoping he was wrong, Izuku ducked over to the wall and turned on one of his battery-powered lamps. As light filled the immediate area, both figures snapped their gazes towards him.

The top figure did indeed have a mutant quirk. They were tall and wide, with red skin and a large, single eye in the center of their face, which had no nose and a wide mouth of sharp teeth. Some kind of cyclops-themed quirk, then. On the ground was a girl, with messy blonde hair and bright yellow eyes. She looked like she was wearing some kind of school uniform, had she gotten lost? Her right hand was scrambling for a pocket knife laying on the ground a few feet away, out of reach, while her left was clearly broken.

“What do you think you’re doing? And in my home, no less?”

Malice rolled off him in waves, causing both people to flinch. Cyclops doubled down though, pressing a large hand with webbed fingers into the girl’s broken arm, causing her to cry out in pain a second time.

“Finder’s keepers! ‘My home’ he says! Ha! Well thanks for keeping it warm for me, you little punk!”

Izuku took a few steps forward. Cyclops smiled; a nasty thing given the state of his teeth. “None of that. Law of the land, kid. I’m stronger than you, so I get to keep the place. And I’m stronger than her,” he said, glancing down at the girl, who visibly shivered. “Which means I get to keep her too.”

He took another step forward, yanking a quirk into place. “Is that right?” He asked, flatly, looking up a few feet at the larger man, who leaned forwards to loom over him.

“That’s right.”

Izuku smiled, all teeth. “Okay.”

Then he reared his head back and spit a glob of lava directly into the man’s face.

The screaming was immediate, as the man clutched at the quickly melting skin on his cheek. He collapsed to the floor, rolling around in agony, and Izuku was caught halfway between guilt and vindication. Moving quickly, he reached into his ice box and grabbed a handful of ice cubes of out a tray, before walking back over to the still-screaming villain.

“They say you shouldn’t apply ice directly to a burn, or it’ll scar.” He dumped the ice cubes directly on the man, who grabbed them and started trying to cool the lava, the water hissing into steam immediately. He glanced down, frowning. “It was only a little lava, don’t be a baby.”

The man staggered to his feet, one hand cradling his face while the other clenched into a fist hard enough for the nails to break skin. “You little shit, I’ll kill you!” He swung forwards in a sloppy punch, all force and zero technique. Izuku took a half-step backwards, letting it just miss him as the wind ruffled his hair, still a bit flat from his helmet. God he was tired.

Izuku swung his boot up, hitting the man right in the groin hard enough to make him wince in sympathy. As Cyclops fell to his knees again, he punched the man in the throat, making him gag and wheeze for air. He deserved every second of it.

As he tried to gather himself, Izuku moved in again, this time running his hands across the villain’s body, latching onto him with Despot.

“Let’s see how you like being forced to do something.”

Bringing his hands up, almost like he was about to play piano, he wiggled his fingers just so, and Cyclops’ body staggered to his feet again. A single eye widened in shock. “W-what is this? Let me go!”

Izuku glared. “If you insist.” He flicked his right hand to the side, and Cyclops took off in a dead sprint. His throat was bruised, and his face was horribly burnt, and he was lucky that Izuku was so tired, because breaking into his home was bad enough, but attacking a young girl? In his home? He was lucky Izuku didn’t take his quirk. But he sighed. He was hurt, and tired, and had a lot of work to do. The sun was starting to come up, and he really wanted to sleep. He halted the villain’s run on the opposite side of his apartment, close to his maximum range with Despot. He spun the man around to face him. He was shaking, clearly, which Izuku thought was appropriate. He looked directly into his eye.

“And stay out.”

Snapping his quirk strings, he flung the man straight out the window and down the stairs of the fire escape. It sounded like the unfortunate soul hit every single step on the way down. He doubted he’d be back any time soon, if ever. (And god help him if he did)

Sighing to himself, Izuku winced as pain shot through his arm. He had done a pretty shoddy job of bandaging his wounds yesterday, he’d admit it. He probably pulled something loose in the excitement, and now he was pretty sure he was bleeding again. He’d help the girl and-

The air was knocked from his chest as a body collided with his, sending him sprawling to the ground in a heap. The girl had tackled him, breathing heavily. Looking up, he saw that her eyes were clouded, pupils dilated. Is she on drugs? Crap. He glanced down and noticed her knife had been dropped in the hustle, so at least he wasn’t getting stabbed. He moved his good arm out of her grip, and attempted to grapple her, when she did something really unexpected.

She opened her mouth, showing off sharp-looking fangs, and bit down on his injured arm.

Now it was Izuku’s turn to cry out in pain, trying in vain to detach the clearly deranged girl from his skin. He could feel blood flowing from the wound and…

Was she drinking his blood?!

Either this girl was completely off her rocker, was some kind of cannibal, or it had to do with her quirk. Izuku was already tired from his vigilante activities, and he could feel himself getting ever-woozier with blood loss. He tried to use Despot to get her off, but when he brought his other hand up, the girl’s free hand grabbed his wrist hard enough to make his bones creek. Was she this strong before?! It HAS to be a quirk! It…it’s her quirk!

Giving his now raging migraine some leeway, he put Despot away and called on Pull. A lot of his stuff had gotten knocked over or displaced in the fighting, and it wasn’t hard to find one of the pans he used to cook his food. With flick of his partially held hand, the pan went sailing through the air at speed, smacking the girl on the back of the head with a loud dong sound.

“OW!” The girl’s teeth finally popped free of his arm, blood streaking through the air and dripping down his sleeve. He’d need to disinfect that. In the meantime! His injured arm now free, he reached out and slapped his hand against the girl’s face.

Her quirk was wild. It felt uncontrolled, like a wild animal struggling to break free from a cage. It…almost felt scared. Trying to be quick but not too violent, he extracted the quirk from her, eliciting a loud yell from her again.

As the quirk settled into his chest, he watched the girl’s fangs recede into normal teeth. Her eyes lost the cloudiness they had held, and she looked at him with something akin to terror. At what, he wasn’t sure. Before he got the chance to ask, she curled in on herself, and vomited a concerning amount of blood on the floor, before passing out in it.

What a day this had turned out to be.

Chapter Text

Himiko slept fitfully, dragged between nightmares one after another. It was a pretty rare occurrence for her to sleep well the last few months, ever since the accident ever since she snapped. Her head had gotten progressively foggier, her hunger pangs worse. She’d remember maybe an hour out of every two days, and what she did remember frightened her. Dark alleys, sharp knives and teeth, shady-looking people.

Cold bodies leaking crimson onto the dirty ground.

Nightmares were no better. Cries of ‘monster’, ‘demon’, ‘freak’ stuck to her from memories. Sometimes it was her classmates, or her teachers, or her mother (that woman stopped being ‘mom’ a long time ago). Sometimes it was a grainy image of her being killed in an alley, and sometimes it was her killing someone else in an alley. She usually woke up crying, and then forgot all about it as the hunger took her away again.

Waking up now, it was different. Her body ached all over in different ways. Her feet were sore, the bottoms of her stupid school shoes long worn out. Her shoulder and arm burned and stung, and felt tied down to her chest. Her chest ached, like she had been hit. Her throat burned, like she had thrown up last night, and her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat. She felt awful.

She didn’t remember a single thing, no sense of how she got here. She was…mostly conscious of herself, at least for now, so she counted that blessing, not like it would last long. A spike of fear and guilt shot through her, as it always did when she was more aware. But she shoved it down for now, trying to figure out where she was and what was happening. She was laying on something soft…an actual bed? With a blanket? Oh god, had she murdered someone and slept in their bed?

“Hey, are you waking up?” A male voice, tired and hoarse, whispered.

She snapped up, her free arm (her left arm was bound to her chest why) scrambling for the knife she kept on her thigh when pain lanced through her body. Her knife fell to the ground as she curled in on herself, upper half slumping off the mattress onto a cold floor, trying not to cry with every fiber of her being.

“Hey, hey! Try not to move! You have a bad concussion at least, not to mention the broken arm and probably bruised ribs.” She could barely hear the voice over her heart pounding in her head.

Have to get out. Have to run.

She tried to scramble to her feet again, but her foot got caught in a blanket and she fell right back down, landing on her bound arm. Her vision flashed solid white and a pathetic whine escaped her throat as the pain nearly made her black out. Rolling onto her back, she scooted away from the voice as fast as she could until her back hit a wall. Blinking the spots and tears from her eyes, she glanced around her, trying to find her bearings and an escape route she didn’t want to die here.

It was a large, open-plan apartment or small house. Stuff was thrown around with little rhyme or reason, best she could tell, but between the mattress, ice box, and clothes lying around she assumed someone lived here. The door she could see was boarded up, but there was a window on the other side of the room she could probably dive through if she ran fast enough.

She panted as she looked for a secondary point of exit. Why was she breathing so fast? Her heart felt like a jackhammer behind her injured ribs. She had to breathe. She had to breathe. Her vision was getting fuzzy-

“Are you okay?”

Shit, there was someone else in here with her! He’d either kill her or turn her in or worse she needed a plan NOW-

“Can you hear me? You need to-”

Not going back. Not to them never to them. I’m not a monster I was just so HUNGRY-

“-in for four, out for eight. Crap, she can’t-”

What happened to Saito? All that blood. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to! I don’t wanna die! Please, Saito, I’m sorry!

“-never tried this before, but-”

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’msorrysorrysorry-

SNAP!

Himiko gasped as she felt her mouth open of its own accord, and her chest expanded, like something was pulling on it. It hurt like shit, but the pain made her gasp and realize she hadn’t taken a breath in way too long. The growing dark spots in her vision began to recede as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She blinked a few times to clear tears from her eyes, wiping them on the sleeve of her filthy cardigan.

Glancing up, she saw a boy. He looked like he was around her age, size-wise, but his face looked older. Tired green eyes, with dark bags beneath them. Messy green hair, almost like a bush. Freckles dotted across pale cheeks and a small, hesitant smile rested on his face. Oh god he looked like Saito. His arms were outstretched, his fingers splayed like he was playing an invisible piano. He was cute!

“Sorry about the scare. Are you okay for me to drop my quirk now?” he asked softly.

She tried to wiggle around, but whatever he was doing was holding her in place. Wanting out, she looked back at him and nodded. His hands came down immediately, and she felt…something? It was an odd feeling, but she could move again, which is what mattered. She slowly, cautiously, crept towards the bed until she was within arm’s reach, snapping her good hand out and retrieving her knife. She grabbed it hard with a shaking hand, pointing the blade at the unfortunately cute boy.

“W-who are you? Wh-what am I doing here? What did you do to me?!”

The boy paled, his hands waving in front of him. “W-wait a second! I didn’t do anything to you! Well, I wrapped your arm up, but that was first aid, not- I’m not a creep!” Her eyes narrowed. First aid or not, she’d stab him if he tried getting frisky.

As if reading her thoughts, the boy sighed, leaning back against the opposite wall and running a gloved hand down his face, smearing some dirt on his chin. “Look, if you don’t remember I’ll try and jog your memory. This is my place. I came home last night and you and this other guy were fighting-

One big eye and strong arms. She had followed the green boy home.

“He broke your arm, but I managed to kick him out of here after I-”

He bled so easily it was love at first sight!

“I…have no idea who you are, actually. I tried to check on you at first but you kind tried to stab me. And you bit my arm, which hurt by the way, and-”

Was Saito dead? Did she kill him? Who else did she kill? Did she even want to know?

Who even was she?

Himiko lurched to the side and vomited onto the floor. She didn’t have much in her stomach to begin with, so it was mostly acid and…and blood. She gagged but couldn’t throw up a second time.

The boy startled, “Hey! Ah jeez, it’s okay I’ll clean it up later! Can I…can I come over there?”

At this point, she felt too bad to even care. She nodded.

Moving cautiously, like one would with a wounded animal which she was, he gathered a rag and moistened it with a water bottle, gently placing the rag in her hand and the bottle on the floor next to her. She, slowly, keeping an eye on the boy, reached out and grabbed the water, secretly relishing how the cool liquid flowed down her tortured throat. Gasping for air, she ran the cool towel over her face, cleaning it of grime and sweat (and a little puke). Taking another gulp of water, she immediately breathed some in and started coughing, which made her ribs feel like they were on fire again. She jolted when a hand, warm and tentative, started rubbing her back in soothing circles it had been so long since someone had touched her without hitting her or worse she was NOT going to cry.

“It’s okay, you’re safe here. My name’s Izuku.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and mumbled “Himiko”.

Having finally finished her coughing fit, the boy, Izuku, back up to the other side of the bed, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Himiko-san, can I ask you a few questions?” She stiffened on reflex, and he seemed to notice. “Just a few yes or no questions, and you really don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I won’t make you or anything.” She stared at him, trying to size up his intentions, when he smirked at her.

“How about this? Answer a few questions and I’ll give you some food?”

“Deal.”

—---------------------

Ten minutes later, Himiko was sitting in a clearly scavenged chair, slurping at some instant noodles, while Izuku was mopping and cleaning up the room. While he’d been bopping around, he’d better explained what had happened to her the previous night. He certainly looked truthful, so while she didn’t trust him, per say, she was definitely thankful to him for pulling her ass out of the fire, and for patching her up (and for the food, mostly for the food).

But now he had…questions. Questions that she definitely didn’t know if she was comfortable answering. But a deal is a deal, and food was food, so.

“So. Himiko-san?” He sounded more nervous than she felt, sheesh.

“Hm?” She hummed, slurping another noodle.

“You really don’t remember last night?”

“Nope.”

“Are you homeless?”

“I…I guess?” She honestly didn’t remember. She certainly couldn’t go back to her parents the Togas anytime soon.

“I assume you don’t have anyone you can go to about that?”

She glared. “No.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. Do you-”

“I have a question for you, actually.” She interrupted. He startled a bit, but raised a brow, urging her to continue.

“I…we’ve been sitting here for awhile. And I still, um…what…” She fumbled around her words, running a hand through her hair (at least her cute buns survived the ordeal! She hated her hair straight). “Why can’t I feel my quirk?”

It had been bothering her. Running her tongue over her teeth, she couldn’t feel her fangs. Her sense of smell felt muted, and more prevalent than anything the thought of drinking blood held absolutely no appeal to her. She was fully cognizant, too, which hadn’t happened for this long in…well, maybe since she was four. Who…who was she, right now?

Not knowing she was having an existential crisis ten feet away, the boy smiled at her. “I used my quirk on you last night. It turns off other peoples’ quirks.”

That…raised a few more questions. “What about that thing you did earlier? With your fingers?”

He glanced off to the side, sheepish. “That’s another thing. Please don’t ask.” Welp. Fair enough, she supposed.

“Is it…how long until it comes back?” she asked.

Izuku looked at her. “Was your quirk hurting you? It made you crave blood, right? That’s why you bit me? I’d reason to guess it was causing your memory issues too, if you hadn’t drank enough. I’ve, uh…seen similar things happen to people before.”

Izuku was smart. Himiko wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or horrified he picked her power apart so quickly. “Um, yes. To all of it.”

He raised a brow, as if waiting for her to elaborate. She did not. “Fair enough. I…don’t really like to do this, but…”

“But what?” She asked, eyes narrowed.

Izuku continued, cautiously. “If I don’t use my quirk on you again, it…won’t come back. Ever.”

Now, Himiko wasn’t exactly a quirk counselor (those people were jerks), but she knew that this boy might have the most broken quirk in the world! He could just…get rid of other peoples’ quirks?!

He started rambling. “Quirkless people are treated really, really poorly but if you can keep a low profile about it, and it was really hurting you, I don’t mind keep- er, keeping it deactivated indefinitely if that’s what you want. I don’t want to assume of course you can always change your-”

Himiko cut him off, barreling into him. She wrapped her good arm around him and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, causing him to stiffen in surprise. She couldn’t bring herself to care as hot, fat tears rolled down her face as she started to sob.

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

His posture softened, one arm slowly, gently snaking around her good shoulder, hand on her back, while the other carted through her hair, avoiding her buns.

“I’m just happy to help.”

—----------------------------------

It was sometime later when she finally pulled herself together, blushing a bit after throwing herself at a boy she just met (she wasn’t a Toga anymore but a girl should have standards).

“Sorry about that.”

Izuku chuckled. “No worries. It’s been a long day. Just promise you won’t tell anyone about my quirk, okay?”

Himiko nodded. “Sure, I promise. Why, though? Seems like you could help a lot of people with it.”

“I do help people with it, but there are certain people that can’t know about it. Do you know what I mean?” And she did. A power like that? She could easily see the Togas abusing people using that kind of power. “So, now that it’s gone, what does your quirk do anyways, Himiko-san?”

She frowned. “You can just call me Himiko. You saved my life, after all. My quirk is- was? Is called Transform. I could change into people if I drank their blood.” This was it. He’d call her a freak, a monster, chase her out of here any second now.

“That’s so cool!”

What.

“Himiko! Shapeshifting is such a cool quirk! I mean, the dietary restrictions suck, but there’s definitely weirder stuff out there. You’d make a great hero with it!”

“What- a hero?! What are you talking about?! I…Izuku I’ve hurt people!”

His smile, which had grown wide, dimmed a bit. “I figured. But Himiko, I think that was just because you were denied something your body needed for so long. Suppressing part of your quirk is inherently bad for you. Can I ask…how long have you been suppressing your quirk?”

She looked down, ashamed. “I always have.”

“That explains that pretty easily then. Himiko, quirk suppression therapy was banned in Japan like, thirty years ago.” That got her attention.

“But-! But the- my parents, they-!”

Izuku frowned. “Himiko, if your parents had you suppressing your quirk, it’s considered child abuse. They could, and should, be sent to jail for it.”

…and wasn’t that something. She’d never wanted to believe them. Never wanted to call herself a freak, a monster, but they always said she’d needed to be cured. Fixed. She knew they were bad people, but were her parents wrong this whole time?

She didn’t know what to think.

After another near-breakdown, she just decided to put all of this on a shelf in the back of her mind, and freak out another time.

Trying to get her breathing under control again, she half-listened as Izuku asked her another question.

“So…I suppose you don’t have anywhere to be?”

That was an odd way to phrase that question. She quirked a brow at him.

“People have been breaking in here more often, and we’re both a little worse for wear at the moment. I’m just going to assume you don’t want me to take you to the hospital-” She shook her head hard enough to make her nauseous.

“Thought so. Listen, are you any good with that knife?”

She was so good at cutting people “I can take care of myself. Why?”

He smiled at her. Something innocent, maybe a bit eager in a childish sort of way. “Do you wanna stay here with me while you heal up? I have enough food for the both of us, and it’s getting colder out. And you could keep other people out when I’m not here!”

She blinked once. Twice. “You…want me to live with you?” ‘You’d want to live with a murderer’ went unsaid.

He blinked back. “Well, yeah! You seem nice and…you look like you could use the help. I want to help you.”

She grinned wide, in a way that would show off her fangs, if she still had them. Something cold, dark, and ugly in her chest melted away, just a little.

“Jeez, Izuku-kun, do I look that bad?”

He floundered, blushing and trying to backtrack, and she burst into laughter. It was loud, and slightly unhinged just like her but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He chuckled along with her after a moment, until they were both wiping tears from their eyes. She beamed at him.

“Sure, why not?”

Chapter Text

Mina shivered awake just before dawn. It had been colder at night as of late, especially with the ocean so close by, and a measly blanket and sweatshirt really came up short when you were sleeping more or less outside (in the back seat of a long-abandoned car). Bundling everything back into her bag, she set off up the beach and into town, dodging a few early-morning joggers.

She arrived at her destination just as the sun had started to come up, a coffee shop she’d seen in a blurb online called Darker Brews. The caramel latte was to die for, and at this point she was pretty sure their pastries were made of actual magic. Pushing in the door and hearing the little bell go off, she was nearly knocked back off her feet as she collided with something solid with a quiet oof.

“Sorry young lady, are you alright?”

She glanced up, up, up at the man she’d just run into. He was super tall! And skinny, almost too skinny, wearing a baggy white shirt and green cargo pants over a practically skeletal frame. And his eyes! They were like hers! Black sclera with bright blue irises. He had blonde hair that was even messier than hers, and she didn’t own a brush so that said something! Oh wait, he said something to her-

“Ah! Sorry, sir. Um, no I’m fine, sorry for running into you.” she glanced down from his face as she got to her feet, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. The patrons here were typically pretty tolerant of her presence, but this guy was new.

“No worries, I should have been paying better attention.” He moved past her and into the open doorway. She moved aside as a second man moved up behind him, plain-faced with black hair, and- was he a cop? “Naomosa-kun, I’ll let you know after I’m done house-hunting.”

The other man responded with a warm smile. “Sure thing, Toshinori. Best of luck.”

As they left, Mina walked up to the counter, the usual barista giving her a warm smile and typical customer service greeting. After getting her nerves under control, she only had to wonder what flavor of pastry to get today.

----------------------

By the time noon rolled around, Mina was hungry again. She’d spent the last few hours shelving books for Suki-san in the back of the main reading room. She’d offered Mina this little job a few days back; she’d spend her morning shelving books and organizing and cleaning, and Suki-san would give Mina a bento and some yen. She hated to admit it, but it was pretty much the only reason she hadn’t starved to death yet. She owed the librarian a lot. More than she felt she could repay.

Logging on to her computer for the day, Mina pondered the future. She’d been interested in heroics originally, especially after all of the bullies she’d had to face over the years, but Suki-san cemented it a bit differently. She didn’t have to be a hero to help people, but did she want to be one anyways?

…

Yeah, probably. There was too much hate in the world, and she had always wanted to see a hero like her growing up. If she could be that hero for someone else, she’d be happy. Her online schooling was pretty much wrapped up already with all the free time she had, and her grades were good.

The one issue she saw at the moment was her body. Lack of nutrition and no real chance to exercise meant that she had lost what little muscle she’d had from her jogging and dance practice, and her ribs were really starting to show. She’d never make it into a hero school, let alone UA, if she wasn’t physically prepared. She’d have to figure something out soon.

She spent the rest of the afternoon in an internet trend rabbit hole, something about the history of artificial flavors, and decided that she’d had more than enough screen time for today, she wanted to move. Maybe a walk around town wouldn’t hurt.

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s go walk on that side of the road.”

“What’s with him? Looks rough.”

“Is that his quirk? So off-putting.”

Toshinori sighed to himself as he walked down the streets of Musutafu. He’d gotten into town just this morning, and already the weird looks were starting. He’d gotten some coffee with his friend and signed a lease for an apartment near UA, and stopped a few petty criminals. All in all, a very successful day!

“-some kinda skeleton freak.”

Except that the people here…kind of sucked.

Closer to the heart of Tokyo, people usually just looked at him in curiosity, or sympathy, or pity, and moved about their day. More people meant more quirks, and more body types that deviated from ‘the norm’, so to speak. A deathly-thin man with dark eyes wasn’t much of a statement piece. Even though Musutafu was close to the best hero school in the country, the people here seemed less tolerant. They’d sneer, or glare, or divert their path specifically to avoid him. It was…quite different, from what he was used to as All Might. He wanted to say something, to remind them that he wasn’t quirkless anymore. To swell into his heroic form and tell them off. But that wasn’t what a hero does, what All Might does.

He wondered what Nana would say to all of this.

Heck, she probably would’ve punched anyone who looked at him funny. She was protective like that, he supposed and gods did he miss her every second of every day.

What even was a hero, nowadays? It was a thought Toshinori found himself having more and more often. Back in his youth, being a hero was about self-sacrifice. A hero was someone who put themselves in danger to save lives, and who meddled in situations that had nothing to do with them. He smiled to himself slightly as he walked, remembering a young, skinny blonde, full of hope and ranting all of these thoughts at a pro hero who had just been out sightseeing in a new area.

What’s your name, kid?

Yagi Toshinori!

Well, Toshinori, I think you’re nuts!

Nana was as blunt as she was talented. It had taken some time to convince her to train him, even a little. It had taken even longer to get her to see his point of view on heroics.

It had, apparently, taken no time at all to convince her to give him One for All.

Listen, Toshi. You’re taking the UA entrance exam this year, right?

Yeah! I…I’m pretty nervous, but I’ll just have to go beyond!

Ha! How corny! Listen, kiddo, there’s something I want to tell you, but you have to promise not to repeat it, kay?

I promise!

So quick! I knew I chose right. Now listen closely…

I have an offer for you.

Looking at the heroes of today, things had changed quite a bit. As the industry grew, sponsorships and popularity polls came right along for the ride, and many a talented young teen with a strong quirk saw it as their chance to make it big. Even veteran heroes jockeyed for a coveted place amongst the top 10, and Toshinori himself had seen heroes wait to subdue a villain until the cameras started rolling.

It made him sick. It made him sick, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t blind. With One for All’s overwhelming power at his command, a blinding smile of reassurance, and the defeat of All for One, heroes were in the midst of an unprecedented era of peace. It was everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he had hoped for and Nana had hoped for him. So why did he feel so dissatisfied? Even if more heroes were in it for fame and fortune, they were still saving people! He couldn’t even judge that much, seeing as he had more fame and fortune than literally any other hero. It wasn’t really his thing, truth be told, but there were several charities that benefitted from his paycheck, so that was something.

Maybe he was feeling restless in his old age. Maybe defeating All for One left him feeling a bit devoid of purpose. Maybe it was time to retire from active duty, get more political and try to clean up the quirkism issue a bit before it escalated even more. He nodded to himself, already liking the sound of that idea.

First thing first though, he wanted to find a successor. While the main goal of One for All was completed, it could still help save people, and there were always villains to Smash. Mirai’s choice of successor was a good one, but he had his doubts about young Togata. That boy had a bright future ahead of him, he would definitely become a top hero in no time after graduation. But truthfully, Toshinori didn’t think he needed OFA. He himself had needed it to be a hero, which made, in his opinion, a big difference in how he handled and revered his gifted powers. Would Mirai’s pupil appreciate it? Sure. Would he save hundreds, if not thousands of people with it? Most definitely.

But would he feel it? The weight, the importance? Maybe he was overhyping what was, in essence, just a quirk (two quirks, but details). But he just needed to feel it out. Someone out there would have the spark he was looking for. He would find his successor and he would know. He had no doubt.

Or he was stalling. Possibly. A little. (He and Mirai had parted on terrible terms, and he was a little socially awkward, sue him!)

*BOOM!!!!!

“Help! Villain!”

Toshinori ducked into a side alley as the people on the street started to move in for a view of whatever villain had decided to try his luck in broad daylight (running towards the danger like morons). His quirk swelled inside his chest as his body returned to that of All Might, but he sighed and rubbed at his old injury. Probably only a few solid minutes, maybe ten if he pushed it. It would have to be enough.

Walking around town had proved to be something of a mistake.

Mina had made it a solid, oh, fifty feet before she got a dirty look. A block and a half until someone had said something vaguely offensive. A whole five blocks until someone threw a can at her from across the street!

This town sucked.

Why did she even bother going outside during the day? Maybe because if she went out at night she’d get mugged again, although that weird hero that saved her was kinda neat. She just…couldn’t spend the whole year going between the coffee shop, the beach, and the library. She needed variety!

She had just considered finally turning back and heading to the beach for the rest of the day when the shouting started. At first she had flinched, whirling around and assuming the shouting was directed at her, but quickly realized it was coming from down the street. Against her better judgement, she reached out towards a passing man, lightly grasping his arm as he ran past (towards the commotion?).

“What’s going on?” she asked.

The man responded, tapping away on his phone trying to call someone, hopefully emergency services, “Villain attack by the looks of it. Heard that-” the man glanced over and, seeing Mina touching his arm, wrenched his limb loose and shoved Mina away from him. “Get your hands off of me you freak!”

Mina grimaced as the man shot her a nasty look and ran off. Maybe it was time to head back-

“Fear not, for I AM HERE!”

Mina gawked as the whole ass Number One Hero slammed into the street not ten feet in front of her. He was out of costume, she noticed in the background, wearing a tight white shirt and some green pants. He was even taller than she’d thought he would be! He stood, blonde spikes of hair glinting in the afternoon sun, hands on his hips, scanning the crowd-

He was looking right at her.

She instinctively straightened, running a hand through her undoubtedly filthy hair and trying to make herself look like less of a slob. What if he said something? What if he tried to arrest her or said something terrible like everyone else? She didn’t think her heart could take it if the Symbol of Peace was just another bigot. She needed someone to look at her and see a person she needed help

He smiled at her. Maybe Mina was imagining it, but his comically-wide smile seemed to soften a bit at the edges, shadowed eyes she couldn’t quite make out softening a bit at the edges. He nodded at her and leapt into the air.

He seemed nice.  

Her legs seemed to lead her along with the crowd as people packed in towards the end of the block. Normally she wasn’t one to go chasing villain fights, but she kind of wanted to see who All Might was up against. Standing on her tip toes and peering around the steadily increasing crowd of watchers, she could just vaguely make out a haphazard barrier made from a few police officers, trying to keep the bystanders from getting any closer.

BOOM!

The crowd flinched as one as an explosion rocked the ground. Everyone attempted to move back a few steps, some people toppling over in the commotion and barely making it back to their feet. Mina was roughly elbowed by the man next to her and rubbed the now sore spot on her ribs. Glancing up and around the people in front of her, she could barely see a…car? It looked like a car had been hit with a quirk or something, and was now steadily smoldering away after exploding. From within the flames themselves, a man came into view that Mina assumed had to be the villain.

He was pretty much made of fire, best she could tell, bright orange and flickering in the wind. He looked pretty tall, maybe around All Might’s height, but that could just be because of his quirk. Mina watched, fascinated and scared in equal measure as the man absorbed the fire coming from the car, growing in brightness and size until he towered over the police officers even more, who had their guns drawn on him but did not look eager to shoot.

“This isn’t my fault, it’s theirs! Theirs! Now leave…me…ALONE!” The man raised a hand towards the officers, and by extension the crowd, unleashing a gout of flame. Mina could feel the wave of heat from where she was. The crowd immediately panicked, people running and shoving to get away from the spectacle as fast as they could. She could hear people cry out in pain at getting stepped on, while others tried to guide the rest to some semblance of order.

Mina was knocked to the ground pretty quickly, wincing and trying to cover her head as person after person ran over her trying to flee the scene. She cried out in pain as a particularly heavy shoe came into contact with her ribs, and she sucked in a pained breath when she felt something give, and pop. Fuck, that was a rib, I think.

She could hear running water and a loud hiss, and glancing up it looked like the fire-man was getting doused with a hose. Oh, Backdraft is here. That’s good. But where’s-

A large hand grabbed her by the back of her shirt, hauling her into the air while another hand wrapped itself around her throat.

“What-?!”

“Not a move outta your lot or the girl here gets it!”

Heart sinking straight to her stomach, Mina slowly angled her head behind her, glancing up at the large figure holding her. He was muscular, and fuzzy. Maybe an ape or monkey mutation? She tried to wiggle, but his grip on her throat tightened, momentarily cutting off her air supply.

“You too, girlie. Don’t be stupid.” He slackened his grip, sending Mina into a coughing fit that was awful for her injured ribs. Her breathing turned quick and shallow as she tried and failed to stave off the flow of panic to her system. This is bad. Oh this is really bad. I’m gunna die here, oh god!

Looking ahead, Backdraft was still battling the fire guy, while the police had scrambled, splitting between directing the rest of the people out of harm’s way or cordoning off an area. A few people were still nearby and watching, but…nobody was looking at her. A few police had trained their pistols on the villain holding her, but that was it.

“NOT SO FAST!”

Another loud SLAM revealed All Might, standing tall with another man flailing as the hero held him by the scruff like a lost kitten. The man in question was wearing a bright green trench coat and had a mask on, clearly some kind of homemade villain outfit.

“Release that girl at once, villain! You’ll land yourself a lighter sentence if you comply, I promise.”

Mina was trembling, but the villain holding her just laughed. “Like I’d throw away a bargaining chip! Not how we’re playing this, Golden Boy! Me and my guys are walkin’ outta here scot-free, or I turn the girl’s head into pink slush.”

All Might’s signature smile tightened into something a bit more staged. With a chop of his hand, the villain in his grip was unconscious, his gaze never wavering from the larger threat in front of him. He tossed the unconscious man over his shoulder like a dirty rag, a few police that had formed up behind barely catching him and slamming him in cuffs.

“You’ll regret this, young man.” His stance tightened, but the villain’s grip on Mina tightened at the same time. It was a standoff. The tense silence felt like it lasted a lifetime, but in reality must have been 30 seconds of the two feeling each other out, waiting for the other to make a mistake.

I’m in the way! Dammit, Mina! If I wasn’t so useless I wouldn’t be in this situation and All Might wouldn’t be struggling! Think, there has to be SOMETHING I can do!

But there wasn’t, really. She was too weak to break his grip, and trying would just get her neck snapped. If All Might couldn’t negotiate with the guy she doubted she’d be able to talk him out of it. Plus, she could barely breathe, let alone talk. All Might needed an opening, though. She wanted to be a hero, she had to help!

…Wait. A hero. Heroes use their quirks!

She’d probably get in trouble, but the situation definitely called for it. Vigilantism was a nasty crime to get charged with, though. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t but one outcome came with a lot less bodily harm, so she’d take it.

She locked eyes with All Might. The man only half-looked at her, keeping his gaze on the villain, but she could see his brow raise a fraction of a centimeter. Determination burned in her eyes that she hoped the pro hero recognized.

A breath in, a breath out. She mentally apologized as strong acid leaked from the skin on her neck. A loud hissing sound filled the air as smoke rose from the villain’s palm. It wasn’t her strongest acid by far, but it was more than enough to leave a mark. Enough to give All Might an opening.

“OUCH! FUCKIN-” The villain dropped Mina on her ass in surprise, which hurt, but there was no time to dawdle. She scrambled away on all fours as fast as she could.

All Might took the opening.

If not for the bright blue sky and clear weather forecast, Mina would have mistaken it for a lightning strike. A loud band, a rush of wind, and the villain was out for the count, now embedded in his own personal crater in the middle of the road. All Might stood over him, chuckling his signature laugh, but he looked a bit…off?

Why was he steaming? Was it a trick of the light, or did he move so fast he caught on fire or something?

“Young lady, I must say-”

“Look out!”

BOOOOM!

Mina and All Might both flinched as a large ball of flame surged upwards over the street. Several police officers scrambled as one of their cars went up in smoke. Backdraft was still fighting the fire villain, who had finally just been extinguished with that final blast. The man, now visible beneath his flames, fell to the ground, waterlogged and unconscious.

Mina was about to look back to All Might, when she noticed something off. With an ominous creaking sound, a chunk of wall from the building adjacent to the explosion came loose, threatening to topple onto the two officers below it. She tried to call out, but her voice caught in her throat as pain danced through her chest. Damn ribs! She had to-

The rubble fell, and Mina moved. She didn’t even process it, her legs burning until she was sliding on a weak, viscous acid across the ground, burning her shoes to sludge. She tackled the officer just as the brick and plaster hit the ground not a foot behind them. She rolled off of the cop and onto her back, trying to get air back into her lungs and failing.

“Are...you…okay?” she huffed. She tried to turn her head to look at the man to see if he was alright, when a hard, heavy force connected with her cheek, whipping her head to the side hard enough to make her vision black out for a moment.

“You’re under arrest!” Mina scrambled back a few inches, finally opening her eyes and holding her now bruised cheek in one hand the same one her father had struck. The other cop, the man’s partner? Had kicked her in the face, and was now glaring at her.

“I-what?” she asked, trying and failing to quell her rising panic. “B-but I didn’t-”

“But nothing!” He shouted, “You used your quirk without permission and assaulted an officer of the law! You’re going to Tartarus, villain.”

Tartarus?! The villain prison?! “But, the wall was falling, and-”

CRACK!

The man backhanded her across the head, sending her sprawling. Hearing the loud cracking sound, Mina looked down to see a jagged yellow object, almost bone-like, laying on the ground. The man had broken one of her horns.

Seeing red, Mina tried to stand, glaring at the man when his hand shot to his hip, drawing his gun and leveling it at her. Her anger went cold, and she sank back down to the ground, shaking with wide eyes. Tears started blurring her vision.

“Stop resisting or I will shoot! Convenient how you stuck around for this, you’re probably working with these freaks! Now put your hands on your head, last warning!”

Is …this how I die? Mina thought, tears streaming down her face and breath coming in short, ragged pants. Is everything I went through just for nothing. Do I deserve this? She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for pain, or handcuffs, or a bullet…but nothing happened. Was she already dead?

“Would you care to explain what you’re doing?”

Her eyes snapped open, revealing All Might, standing in between her and the officer, who looked aghast.

“All Might?! What are you doing? That girl is a vil-”

“A child.” He cut in, “This girl is a child, a person. Who you just threatened to shoot and kill because she was scared and tried to defend herself, and you, from danger.”

The man paled, realizing quickly that the hero was not on his side in this. Regardless, he doubled down. “But! Quirk Use Laws State-”

A large hand cut him off as All Might talked over him. “That a regular citizen may utilize their quirks only for self-defense purposes, if the situation warrants it. Given she was just held hostage, I’d say this counts.”

The cop sputtered, before his face turned red and he started to shout, gun still pointed in Mina’s direction (and, incidentally, at the Symbol of Peace). “Heroes don’t even have any authority to interfere in arrests! Release the villain to me, now!  That thing has no right to-”

Crunch!

The man snapped his mouth shut as All Might advanced on him in the blink of an eye, crushing his gun to dust between two large fingers. If Mina was in a better headspace, she’d have wondered just how strong this man was.

“Well then.” A few people, who had filtered back into the scene close to the conclusion of the fight, gasped. All Might was not smiling anymore. “I’m sure the Commission would love to see the video of this entire transaction, as well as the Chief.” Now the man really looked pale. Mina was pretty sure he’d started shaking. She knew she was. All Might turned and shouted to the observers.

“Take heed, citizens! This man’s actions are inexcusable. Children are the future of this fine country, and of hero society! We must not teach them to hate others and judge them without due cause. We must educate them, and teach them to stand with one another for a better, brighter future! I have not been in Musutafu long, but sights like this are both common and completely unacceptable.” Some people were gaping, slack-jawed at the Symbol of Peace, the Number One Hero, and the man who had apparently thrown shade at an entire city as well as its police. This was sure to cause a stir online.

“Do better.”

Waving off a few reporters who had trickled in amongst the chaos, All Might walked right up to her, positively towering over her.

“Young lady, you seem injured. May I pick you up? I’d like to bring you someplace safe.” He extended a hand down to her, looking her right in the eyes and smiling. Her ribs hurt, her head hurt, and her heart hurt. Even so, the panic and desperation she felt started to bleed away, little by little.

She took the hand.

Chapter Text

Everything hurt.

“Again.”

Feet met cold tile. A fist met leather.

“Again.”

Skin blistered and broke. Sweat dripped. Breath escaped in ragged bursts of exhaustion.

“Again.”

He hadn’t slept in days, or at least he thought as much. No windows, no clock, no way to be sure.

“Again.”

“Can we stop for today? I can’t-”

“No. You’re going to be a hero, right? The best hero. That means no brakes.”

Mikumo missed his mom.

Harsh sunlight and the creaking of metal ripped Izuku from his sleep. Someone was in his apartment, again.

Based on the footsteps, it was just one person. They were really, really quiet too. In fact, if it wasn’t for Izuku’s general paranoia and training, he’d probably never notice it. They were…moving around the room, as far away from the spare bundle of blankets he was sleeping on top of as possible. That made sense, although he couldn’t hear any of the telltale sounds of someone rooting through his stuff. Maybe they had some kind of minor stealth quirk?

He wanted it. His cravings were so much worse in the mornings.

He needed a game plan. Nobody had ever fully broken in while he was sleeping, but them thinking he was unconscious might work in his favor? He kept a wooden staff (a broken broom) against one of the corners. It was well within Pull’s range, so he could snatch it up and brutally beat whoever was there. A perfect plan.

He waited until the soft footsteps (it sounded like they were barefoot, which was unusual) padded their way to the other end of the room. If his guess was correct, they were at the icebox. He paused until he could hear things being moved around inside and rolled onto his stomach. Before his eyes were even all the way open, his staff was flying across the room, and settled into his grip with a soft smack.

He charged forwards, vision blurry from fatigue as he raised the staff over his head-

“Wha? Izuku, wait!”

He knew that voice.

Skidding to a stop, Izuku rapidly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, blinking as he took in pale skin and a head of blonde hair in front of the icebox, holding what looked like a jug of…some kind of juice?

“It’s-it’s me! Himiko, remember?”

Ooooh, right. Himiko. Izuku had forgotten. The girl looked scared half to death, eyes locked on the wooden stick that Izuku was still holding over his head in confusion. He lowered it, slowly, before finally rubbing the rest of the sleep out of his eyes.

“Right,” he said, “Sorry about that, Himiko. I’m not super used to having other people around when I wake up. Or other people, period.”

“Um, right. It’s okay! Sorry for waking you.” Looking like she suddenly remembered something important, she thrust the jug in Izuku’s direction. “I got us some juice! Do you like pomegranate?”

After that, the two settled in for a fairly awkward day. Izuku wasn’t the best at socializing on a good day, at least out of costume. Himiko, meanwhile, was a bit of an oddball. She would go through bouts of over-excitement that were quickly tempered by quiet looks and whispering to herself, almost as if ashamed.

Her entire demeanor reeked of abuse.

Izuku wanted to ask her about it, but he had a feeling she’d either clam up or bolt. He’d wait until she was more comfortable…however long she was going to stay (he definitely hadn’t thought it through). They had decided pretty quickly not to go anywhere that day as well. Himiko was pretty severely malnourished, and Izuku was still injured from his latest excursion. Not to mention, he was pretty sure Himiko was wanted in some capacity (she’d cited going out before dawn for the juice, and Izuku had the sneaking suspicion that she’d stolen it. He still drank it though, it was tasty).

Conversation came and went in between awkward silences, and it wasn’t until several hours of Izuku sifting through paperwork and transferring it to his laptop that Himiko addressed one of several elephants in the room.

“Are you sure this is okay? Me staying here, I mean. You were…kinda really out of it when you offered, and today’s been suuuuper awkward for both of us.”

He didn’t have to ponder it for more than a moment. Sighing, he gently closed his laptop and put his work to the side, looking at the girl. She was sitting on the bed, knees up and uninjured arm wrapped around her legs. She looked young, too young for this kind of life, Izuku thought.

“I’m sure. I’m not really good at people, but I don’t mind helping you. Other than the whole vampire routine, you’re pretty nice, and a little extra security is pretty welcome, these days. I will have to trust you not to go through my things when I’m out and about, though.”

Golden eyes scanned his own, checking for deceit. Whatever they found, apparently made her start to tear up. “I-thank you, thank you, thank you. I…I promise I won’t be a bother I just-” A sob racked her frame, and Izuku went and knelt next to her, not wanting to startle her by touching her but making sure he was close by. It was an old trick for dealing with panicking children on patrol. Some would welcome sudden touches while others would lash out- it was safer to leave some space unless asked.

“Are you sure my quirk won’t come back?” She asked almost desperately. She must really hate that quirk. It definitely felt like an energetic one.

“Positive. You mentioned it letting you shapeshift after drinking blood, right? What else does it do? It makes you need the blood, right? That’s why you were so, um…feral?”

She flushed, but nodded. “I wasn’t sure whether it was my quirk or just me, but yeah. I’m sure now, Transform made me crazy. I was- I was just so hungry that I-” She retched, barely managing to keep her food down. Her forehead shone with cold sweat. “Today is the most self-aware I’ve been since my paren- um,” she covered her mouth, eyes wide, before looking downwards. “It’s been a while, anyways.”

Izuku was going to murder this girl’s parents. That much was certain.

“It’s fine, Himiko. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want to.” He slowly, slowly, put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but relaxed into it after just a moment. “It won’t bother you anymore, and we can keep an eye on any lingering side effects. I know my way around quirks pretty well at this point.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Izuku had…experience, one could say, with certain quirks and their effects on a person’s biology as well as their mind. Some people said that quirks influence their users, while some say it was the opposite. Personally, Izuku was more for the first theory. While it was nothing drastic, his impulsive thoughts and demeanor did change a bit while using certain quirks, especially stronger ones. Himiko’s quirk seemed on the stronger side, and paired with a (probably) crappy home life and maybe some other, underlying mental issues? Well, her actions made a lot more sense in hindsight, especially given how coherent she’d been since she’d woken up after he took the quirk for himself. He’d have to practice before using this particular quirk, and be extra careful with it.

“What, um,” she looked at him, before averting her gaze again, “never mind.”

“What is it?” Izuku asked.

Himiko looked nervous. “What…is your quirk, exactly? I don’t really get it.”

Now it was Izuku’s turn to be nervous. “I…do you promise not to tell anyone? It’s important for my, and I guess our, safety. My quirk is dangerous.”

She nodded rapidly. “I promise!” Oddly enough, he believed her, more or less. Not like he’d be revealing what his actual quirk was.

He raised a palm, letting his natural quirk out a bit as red light oozed from the tiny hole in the center.  “I call it Null,” real smooth, use your vigilante name as a fake quirk name. Idiot. “If I touch someone and activate it, I can disable their quirk. I have to use it on them again to turn it back on.”

Himiko looked at him, eyes wide. Izuku faintly noticed how hard his heart was pounding in his chest. It had been…some time since he had casually just told someone what his quirk did (even the fake one). He didn’t really know what he’d do if it freaked her out. Eraserhead was one thing, he was all logical this, and useful for detaining villains that, but Himiko was just like…a person? A peer? Something like that.

“That’s so cool!” Himiko smiled, all teeth.

Today was just full of surprises, apparently.

Wind whipped through her hair and stung her eyes as she soared through open air. Japan looked serene from this high up, almost peaceful. The sun was just starting to set, and the whole thing looked like some kind of postcard.

Then, of course, gravity reclaimed it’s hold, and Mina shrieked like a banshee as she fell to the earth, wrapped in the protective arms of All Might, the Number One Hero. They touched down on top of a rather large building, somehow not destroying anything in the process. Mina was let down onto her feet, which immediately deposited her onto her backside as she panted against the burning in her ribs, trying to catch her breath after her harrowing experience.

“Apologies, young lady. Catch your breath. I know the people who own this building, we’re fine here, take your time.”

Mina nodded, slowly getting her breath under control. It took several minutes, but she was finally able to breathe with only a moderate amount of pain. Looking up, she saw All Might smiling at her patiently, but also…shaking? And steaming?

“All Might, are you okay?”

The hero cocked an eyebrow, before his eyes widened a bit. “Ah, right. That. Um, sorry about this, but don’t freak out, okay kid?”

“Don’t freak out? Why would I freeeeAAAAH! WHAT?!?” Mina did, in fact, freak out as the Symbol of Peace coughed up a concerning amount of blood before disappearing in a puff of steam. As it faded, all she saw was a skeleton of a man in All Might’s clothes. His blonde tufts of hair had sagged, turning messy, and his eyes- HIS EYES!

“Wait! It’s you! From earlier!”

All Might(?) looked confused. “Earlier?”

“I bumped into you at the coffee shop! You were ALL MIGHT?! Wait, how does this make any sense?!” A hand lightly chopped her head, silencing her.

“I remember now. Yes that was me, but listen. You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? Not your friends, or your family. Don’t post about it online either.”

Not like I have any of those anyways. Mina thought bitterly. Except for that quirk blog I guess. Those guys are pretty nice, but that’s probably just ‘cause they haven’t seen me. She nodded at the man.  Something bugged her about this, though. “So, uh, if it’s such a big secret, why did you show me, All Might?”

The man frowned, which was weird yet oddly fitting on this version of his face, and sat down near the edge of the roof, facing her. “People cannot know that All Might, the Symbol of Peace, is daunted by evil.”

“Daunted? What’s…oh.”

He had lifted his shirt, revealing the nastiest-looking wound Mina had ever seen in her life. It was like his side had caved in on itself and something was eating at it from the inside. It made her a bit nauseous to look at, if she was being honest.

All Might sighed, lowering his shirt. “I was in a battle with a villain, about six years ago. Strongest villain I had ever faced. Maybe the strongest ever period. I won, but he did some serious damage to me.”

Mina’s heart turned cold. “Who could do this to you? What did he even do?”

“His name and quirk were stricken from the record at my request,” All Might frowned. “Regardless, because of the injuries and internal damage, not to mention the surgeries I needed, I can only be a hero for about three hours each day. The rest of the time I look like this.” The man looked down at the roof, scowling. Mina was pretty familiar with the look he had on his face. She saw it in the mirror almost every day she had spent with her parents.

“I like your eyes!” All Might stared at her, and Mina felt herself flush at her outburst. “I just…your eyes. They look like mine, pretty cool right?” Mina smiled, opening her similarly dark eyes and pointing to them. To her surprise, the hero smiled back.

“I like yours too, young lady. Most people tend to focus on, well, the rest of me,” he said, gesturing to his skeletal frame, “and ignore the, well, ‘cooler’ parts.”

Mina nodded. “I know the feeling. I think most of me is cool, but the people around here kind of…well..” she trailed off, sheepish.

“They totally suck, don’t they?” All Might said with a crooked grin.

Mina sputtered and choked at the absolute ridiculousness of the number one hero saying such a thing, before bursting out laughing. “All Might! You can’t just say that! Hahaha-ow! Ow, ow, ow!” she clutched her ribs again.

“Young lady, are you alright? May I?” He asked, scooting over to her and raising a hand.

“S-sure.”

He pressed a hand over her ribs lightly, the pain making her breath hiss but overall it was manageable. He retracted his hand after a moment, before sighing.

“I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure they’re just bruised. A good wrapping and some rest and you’ll be okay. I’m…really sorry about your horn, though.” he glanced away, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry- um, what’s your name?”

“Oh! Just call me Mina. And it’s fine. It’ll be a bit crooked, but the horns grow back. At least they did the last few times.”

“Good, good. Young Mina, I am truly sorry. I let my limitations slow me down, and I was not able to help you until it was almost too late. Both from the ape villain and that horrid man disguising himself as a police officer.”

Mina shrugged, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. “It’s alright, sir. I just…. the villain thing isn’t your fault, you were busy. And the cop, well…I’m mostly used to it.”

The man shook his head. “No, that was unacceptable. My best friend is on the force, and I know he would agree with me. He’ll be fired before the week is out if I have my say. Which I will.”

This was strange. “All Might, it’s not a big deal, just-”

“It IS a big deal. Young Mina, people should not act like this.”

“They DO, though!” Mina shouted. “It’s just how things work!”

“Not everywhere.” All Might responded, “Quirkism in Tokyo is much lower, and the police would never get away with such a public display. You shouldn’t have been treated like that.”

“But,” Mina said, “I’m just…well…” A monster. A freak. A nuisance. “Me.”

A large, bony hand rested on her shoulder. “You’re the most heroic person I’ve seen in this entire city. Including the heroes. Including me.” Mina stared at him, blankly, and he continued. “Young lady, even after experiencing all of this hardship, you still risked your life for others, twice. First to give me an opening to defeat the villain. Excellent job by the way. I should be scolding you for quirk use, legally, but your control over whatever you burned him with was impressive to not leave any lasting damage.”

Mina flushed, looking downwards. Nobody had ever, ever complemented her quirk before.

“Second, you risked your life to save a man you knew would discriminate against you, despite being injured and despite the risk to yourself. Tell me, what were you thinking?”

Mina thought about it for a moment, but shrugged. “I wasn’t really thinking at all, All Might. I just…I saw the bricks about to fall and I kinda just…moved?” She was a bit confused at the questioning, but All Might nodded his head like she had just answered a super hard riddle for him.

“There are stories about the greatest heroes, about their early days.” Where was he going with this? “They all say the same thing: their bodies simply moved to save someone before they had the chance to think about it. That’s what happened to you. Young Mina, you will make an amazing hero one day.”

Mina stared up at the hero, now standing and looking down at her with a determined gaze. Tears flooded from her eyes, even as she tried to wipe them away. After all this time, all the hate, someone- no, not someone, All Might- had recognized her. Had called her a person, treated her like one. Told her that she could do it. And she would!

“I’m…I’m gonna be a hero! The best!” she cried out, still half-sobbing.

All Might smiled wide. His smile looked funny in this form. He threw his arms wide, looking up at the sky. “This is it! You’re the one, I can feel it! I deem you worthy! My power is yours to inherit!”

“......what?” Mina stared at the man in front of her, expressionless. Did he lose it or what?

All Might cackled, spraying blood onto the roof. “What’s with that reaction, huh? Listen, kid, nobody knows what my quirk is. All Might had to be a natural-born hero with a normal quirk, but the truth is that couldn’t be any further from the truth!” Mina was…still confused, but she gasped as All Might held his hand aloft in front of him, and a soft white light, tinged with other colors, shone in his palm. She could…she could feel it, whatever it was.

“My quirk is a sacred torch, found at the dawn of quirks. It stockpiles the power of a person, and allows them to pass it on to another. Over and over, coming to my master, and eventually to me. The power is called…One for All.”

“One…for All.” Mina parroted.

“I am the eighth wielder of One for All. I would like you to be the ninth.”

She stared, trying to let it sink in. She had about a billion questions, but one stuck out at her more than the others.

“All Might…I don’t…who could…why me?” she asked, lost. Again, the hero’s smile turned soft, as did his tone as he spoke.

“Because I see you. Faced with nothing but adversity, you’ve shown compassion, courage, and drive. I’ve been at this a long time, and I can tell you’re something special. So,” with a puff of steam, he…inflated? Back into his heroic form.

“What do you say? Will you be my successor, Young Mina?” he asked, holding his hand out to her once more.

She gawked, not totally believing what she was hearing. All Might wanted her to succeed him? He wanted to give Mina his quirk?! Could you even do that?! What would happen to him? What if she wasn’t good enough?

All these questions and more swirled in her head, a typhoon of doubts and questions building on one another. But as she looked into All Might’s eyes, all she saw was compassion, drive, and faith. He believed in her. There was really only one answer, wasn’t there?

Once more, she took his hand.

Chapter Text

It was a few days later when Mina got a text from All Might, telling her to meet him at Dagobah Beach the following morning. Normally, a meetup time of 5am would be an actual crime to her, but seeing as how Mina lived on that very beach, she didn’t think she’d have any issues.

She had told Suki-san not to expect her until later in the day and woke up with her alarm bright and early at four. She wanted to be awake and alert in case All Might showed up early. This ended up being the right choice, as the skeletal form of the number one hero meandered onto the beach around 4:40. Smiling a bit to herself, Mina jogged towards the man, waving.

“Hi, All Might!”

The man startled as he turned, but quickly settled into a tired grin. “Good morning, Young Mina. You’re early!”

“Yeah, I’m an early riser, plus I was excited!” Well, half of that was true, anyways. “So, why the beach?”

Coughing a bit into a handkerchief, All Might responded, “A few things. First, my real name is Yagi Toshinori. Please call by either name when I’m in my true form to avoid confusion.”

She nodded. “Yagi-san, then? Or Toshinori-san? Toshinori-kun? Toshi? Toshi sounds cute!”

Yagi chuckled before hacking up some more blood (was that okay? Surely not, right?). My old master called me Toshi, actually. If you’re to be my successor, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. You can call me Toshi in private if you want, but maybe stick to my last name in public, yeah?”

Mina beamed. “Okay! So, Toshi-sensei, what’re we doing on the beach?”

“We need to get you ready! You’re aiming for UA, right?” Mina nodded. It was the best hero school out there after all. If she was going to succeed All Might (and wasn’t THAT a concept that still hadn’t sunk in) only the best would do! “Well, we need to get you ready to inherit my quirk!”

“What do you mean?” Mina cocked her head, frowning. “I thought you said I was worthy.”

Seeing her downcast expression, the man backpedaled. “I meant physically prepared. You’re too weak to wield my mighty power right now. Heck, if you tried your arms would probably explode! Hahaha!” He laughed, as if he had told some kind of joke instead of foretelling Mina’s death.

“Toshi! What the heck?! Your quirk could blow my arms up?!” she said, pouting.

In a flash of steam, Toshi inflated into All Might, producing a thick packet of papers. “Not quite! You see, I have a plan to get you into tip-top shape! I call it the Aim to Pass: American Dream Plan! Over the next year or so until the UA Entrance Exam, you will clean this entire section of the beach to its former glory! People use it as a dumping ground, but the difficulty and community service it will provide will turn you into the perfect vessel for One for All!”

All Might…was going to train her? HER?! Cleaning the beach sounded like a pain, but he had a point about the community service. Of course, cleaning the beach would eventually impact her living situation, but maybe she could just leave her little area alone? Surely he didn’t expect her to clean ALL of it!

The packet was handed to her, and she started flipping through it. This was…intense. Every second of every day, from school to meals to sleep, were all mapped out meticulously.

“To be frank, this schedule is going to be super-duper hard. Can you do it?” All Might asked, leaning in and whispering.

Mina felt herself begin to sweat, although the sun had just started to rise. “Um, so a few things, All Might-sensei?”

The man deflated, a curious look on his face. “Can you not do the plan? I had it made by professional trainers at Might Tower with your body type in mind.”

Mina shook her head. “So, two things. I do online school, so the hours I’d be in school need to be re-done, I think? I’m almost done with my middle school classes already. Also,” she hesitated. She was proud of herself for lasting this long on her own, but…being a hero was demanding, and she was ashamed to say that she could barely afford her one bought meal a day. This schedule called for a lot of food. She could lie to him, but she really, really didn’t want to.

“I kind of can’t, um, affordthefood.” She mumbled out quickly.

“Er, what was that, Young Mina?” Toshi asked.

“I can’t afford the food!” Mina yelled, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m…kinda poor…”

She refused to look at him. She didn’t want to see the pity, the disgust. She was already an outcast, she couldn’t stand being a failure, too. Would he refuse to train her? Stop wasting his time with her and find someone more normal?

“Oh, that’s fine!”

Huh?

She glanced up, and Toshi just had a crooked grin on his face. “Kid, I am the Number One Hero. I donate most of my salary to charity, but I don’t mind supplying you food for your meal plan.”

What?! That was…a bit too generous. There was no way she could-

“Up-up-up,” he said, wagging his finger. “I can already see the look on your face. This isn’t pity, or some handout, Young Mina. I’m a hero. We strive to help, right? Plus, you’re going to be my successor. It is my duty as your mentor to ensure you have everything you need to succeed.” He smiled at her, a bit softer. “A bit of food will pale in comparison to the good you’ll do once you’re a hero, remember that.”

Great, and Mina was crying again.

“Ha! We’ll have to do something about those leaky eyes of yours, kiddo. Now, your ribs need to heal up a bit more before you start hauling trash. Let’s call it here for today, and I’ll get everything set up and we can start training next week. Taking classes out of your schedule, we’ll be able to get done much faster. Sound good?”

“Yes, Toshi-sensei!”

After departing the beach, Toshinori swung by his apartment to clean up and start reworking Mina’s training plan. The extra time that would be saved by not including hours for school was a boon for sure, but he’d have to make sure she didn’t overdo things. A few things were jumping out at him though, and he was concerned.

The girl was thin, too thin for her age. Given her demeanor and quirk, he would have assumed she’d be pretty active. She mentioned being poor, but he was wondering if her parents weren’t feeding her enough at home. When he’d mentioned friends and family after revealing his true form, he had noticed the forlorn look that had passed over her face briefly, before it was masked behind a neutral frown once again.

He was the number one hero. He would not jump to conclusions. However, this was his successor he was talking about, so perhaps some due diligence was warranted. Whipping out his phone, he dialed a familiar number, hoping the man on the other line was sleeping for once, but doubted it.

“Hello? Toshinori?”

He shook his head but smiled. “Naomosa. Are you at work?”

“You know it. Do you need something?” The poor man needed a vacation, and Toshinori was tempted to pay for it, just to be sure he’d actually go.

“Maybe. I wanted you to look someone up for me. Basic stuff: parental records, quirk registry. And…I might request a wellness check.”

A pause. “What’s this about?” Naomosa sounded more awake now.

Toshinori took a breath. “I’ve finally found a successor, but some things that came up in conversation worried me. I may be overreacting, but I just want to be sure.”

“Fine with me, but if we do a check I’M going to lead it. We can’t have All Might showing up at random peoples’ houses, it’d cause pandemonium. Remember last time?”

He certainly did. He was pretty sure they’d never repaired that bus stop. It was some kind of memorial to him now, he thought. Super-fans were a weird bunch. “Fair enough. Her first name is Mina. She has mutations that give her pink skin and yellow horns, and her quirk produces some kind of corrosive slime.”

A pause. He could faintly hear typing over the phone. Knowing better than to distract his friend while he searched, Toshinori waited several minutes, idly working away at altering the American Dream Plan until he heard the detective’s voice again.

“Okay, got a hit. Ashido Mina, age 15. Quirk is called Acid, actually classified as an emitter despite the mutations. Her family lives…out in Chiba? Toshinori, I thought you were in town?”

He blinked. “I met her in town. She was at that coffee shop you took me to the other day, actually. Maybe she was in town for something?”

“Not sure. No use guessing. I’ll get the paperwork together. If YOU want to come, Toshinori, YOU can. But no All Might, and you have to wait in the car. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“We have every reason to believe the changes can be permanent. This is incredible!”

He knew he should have lied.

“Let’s try again, this time on a more obvious mutant quirk.”

He never should have come here, but he didn’t have much choice.

“But it’ll hurt him!”

“He hurt people when he was a villain. He should have known this would happen. Now, begin the test.”

Mikumo was tired of hurting people.

“...no.”

“What was that? Speak up!”

“I said NO! If I- if I use it, he’ll die!”

Electricity coursed through the bracelets on his wrists, pain coursing through his body. His arms curled up against his chest as he whimpered. He refused to cry. Crying always made it worse.

“I won’t ask again, Deleter. We want this data by the end of the day.”

Mikumo coughed, smoking lightly. “...No.”

The shocks started again, worse now, and also coming from the metal brace around his neck. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt.

“Do we have to bring your friend in here as an example?”

His eyes opened wide as he stumbled back to his feet.

“Wait! No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do it!”

“Then stop wasting my time.”

He reached out to the man chained to the wall. Everything went red.

—-----------------------------

Izuku and Himiko slowly but surely settled into a routine of sorts. Izuku would wake up, usually from some nightmare he didn’t remember, and make breakfast. Himiko would supply a drink, usually some kind of fruit juice (pomegranate was her favorite by far) that she obtained through means Izuku chose not to question.

Then came school. Himiko really disliked going outside during the day (further cementing Izuku’s theory that she was wanted) so the library was out. Could he probably trust her alone with his stuff? Yeah, but he still felt weird about leaving someone he met a week ago in his apartment. He’d leave to get supplies and groceries as needed, but he was usually back within an hour. Luckily, his fancy new (not very fancy or very new) laptop was plenty for basic online classes. After a discussion, and more than a few boredom-induced knife throwing contests, Himiko had asked Izuku to sign her up for online school as well.

As it turned out, Himiko was fairly intelligent, but also very far behind on the curriculum. It’d take her a bit to catch up, but with any luck she’d be done with her second year around the time Izuku finished his third. According to Himiko, the last time she remembered being in school was her first year of middle school, but even that was a bit fuzzy all the way back through about fourth grade (which honestly tugged at Izuku’s heart strings a bit).

Getting to know her, on the other hand, was a…complicated process. Izuku really wasn’t the most sociable person out there, but at least bantering with villains and criminals counted as social interaction. Best he could tell, Himiko hadn’t had a genuine conversation with someone in almost a decade. She had, apparently, had friends in middle school, but she barely remembered anything about them, and had to spend so much focus suppressing her quirk (and acting ‘normal’ as she put it) that her social life was basically non-existent.

That made talking to her pretty interesting. She…really didn’t know how to hold a conversation, but she was getting better by the day. She was bubbly and passionate, and seemed interested whenever Izuku would go on a tangent about this thing or the other (‘I don’t know anything about anything, really! Tell me more!’). But she would also go through low points. Izuku had woken up one day to see her curled up in the corner, an absolutely dead look in her eyes. She hadn’t responded to anything he said, or eaten anything, or really even moved. Frankly, it scared him. He suspected it was a combination of the lingering side effects from her quirk, depression, and guilt over…whatever she had done in her haze. It had taken him all day to get her to look at him, and he had ended up staying awake all night making sure she was okay.

He hadn’t wanted to sleep, knowing she kept knives on her person.

Even without her quirk, she really did like knives. It was something of a…hobby? An interest, at least. Izuku had a few lying around, but Himiko had scoffed, calling them ‘super not cute’, whatever that meant for a knife, and showed off her own small collection that looked exactly the same to him (he did not vocalize this).

They had lightly sparred a few times, not causing any real damage to one another, just to get some exercise in. Himiko’s arm seemed like a pretty clean break, so they’d wrapped and splinted it so it would heal on its own in a few weeks. Himiko used a knife like she was born with one in her hand, movements rapid and unpredictable, yet fluid. She also had this odd…stealth thing? She could just kind of…vanish? It made zero sense. He had asked her how she learned all of these things, but she shrugged and claimed muscle memory from something she couldn’t remember. He had gone as far as to use his quirk on her again, in case she had a second stealth quirk lying around, but none made themselves known.

Weird.

Her quirk was a whole different issue. Izuku still hadn’t called it to the surface, but he could feel it, sitting within his chest. It bubbled and buzzed, like a bomb about to go off. He’d done some quirk research, and what he found startled him. Apparently, quirk suppression therapy was outlawed decades ago, and the damage it could cause to a person was extreme.

Quirks were a part of a person. Keeping someone’s eyes covered their entire life could cause irreparable damage to their eyesight, and quirks were the same way, only worse. Suppressing a quirk actually made it more volatile, and more prone to outbursts and mutations. If a quirk had negative side effects, they usually became worse over time.

Like craving blood, for example.

Izuku wasn’t an expert, but he kind of was, thanks to his own quirk. And he had a pretty solid guess that Himiko’s treatment and suppression of her quirk made her blood cravings get so bad she developed something of a split personality from it. Rather, her quirk and body needed blood so badly it basically hijacked her mind into a sole-focused obsession with it. It was dangerous thinking, but the evidence was there.

While it had taken a few more days, he had quizzed Himiko on Transform, or at least what she could remember of it. Knowing the basics of how it functioned would be infinitely helpful for the first time he tried to activate it, but he wanted to wait to see if the quirk would ever ‘calm down’ on its own, or if he’d have to ‘uncage’ it first. Either way, he’d have to be very careful with how he used it, and probably stay away from people. Thoughts for later.

At this point, a new issue was coming to the surface. He was just about healed from his last set of injuries, and either tonight or tomorrow night he wanted to start patrolling again. Part of the reason he’d let Himiko stay in the first place was for a bit of security. So, he needed to make sure she could handle herself, and then he needed to tell her about Null.

Which brought them to their current situation.

“Just…stand…still!”

“Get away from me you crazy bitch!”

*CRASH!*

“HEY! I’m a lady! We don’t use that kind of foul language here, you dick!”

It was around 3 in the morning, and someone had tried to break into his apartment again. The man was clearly intoxicated by something, based on the smell, and obviously wasn’t aware the building was already occupied. Izuku and Himiko had been woken up by him tripping over the windowsill, and the three had stared at one another with wide eyes, Himiko hiking her blanket to her chin like some kind of scandalized maiden. Then the man had started spouting threats, the typical ‘get lost or die’ type of thing, and had produced a rather wicked-looking serrated knife. Izuku had glanced at his new roommate, and asked a simple question:

“You want this one?”

She had looked conflicted, for all of two seconds, before grinning wide, all teeth.

“Really?!”

He nodded. “Yeah, go for it, just try not to make a mess.”

Himiko had lunged across the apartment with speed that belied her frame and was currently making a complete fool of their home invader. Watching the man try to stab her was like watching a small child try to play baseball in the major leagues: it was embarrassing. He swung with his knife like he was swinging a golf club, Himiko ducking and weaving into his guard like she was made of water.

After a particularly drunk-looking swing, Himiko kicked the man in the knee, sending him stumbling, before she grabbed his wrist and twisted. In a grunt of pain, he dropped the knife on the ground and quickly found Himiko’s own blade at his throat. She smiled wide.

“Izuku, now what? Wanna throw him out the window like the last guy?”

Izuku walked up to the two of them, hand on his chin as if pondering a great mystery.

“I dunno, Himiko. He did interrupt our sleep and invade our home.” He picked up the discarded knife, a serrated hunting knife of some kind. It looked nice. “What do you think we should do, mister?”

The man looked about a second away from pissing his pants. Satisfying, although Izuku didn’t want to clean up the mess. He shivered. “Um-uh-um-I uh…sorry? I’ll uh, leave?”

Izuku smiled. “Are you asking us if you can leave?” The man nodded. “And what do we say when we ask someone for a favor?” The man glared at him, but Himiko dragged the knife ever closer to his neck, nearly grazing skin, and he stiffened.

“Can I leave please?” Much better.

“And if you hear somebody else thinking about coming here?”

“I would say that sounds like a terrible idea!”

Izuku nodded, satisfied. “Himiko, we can let him go.” Himiko nodded, slinking behind him. Even with one arm, she was terrifying.

The man immediately lunged at the two of them, so Izuku threw him out the window. He didn’t even use a quirk! Just some good, old-fashioned judo.

After closing the window back up again, Izuku flipped the knife, holding it handle-out towards Himiko.

“Here. Congrats on repelling your first home invader.”

Himiko visibly brightened, but shook her head, thinking. “You should keep it!”

“Why’s that? I don’t really need it.” he asked.

Himiko smiled. “It’s a thank-you for letting me stay here! Plus! Now that you have a nice knife we can be Knife Buddies!”

Izuku smiled back. “Knife buddies?”

“Capitalized!”

“Knife Buddies, then. Sure.” he said, chuckling. Himiko quieted down though, suddenly looking unsure. “What’s wrong?”

She looked at the blade of her knife, twisting it in her hand as if admiring the blade. “Are, um…So I know you just kinda let me stay here outta nowhere. I just…wanted to say thank you somehow, and ask you a question.”

“You’re welcome, Himiko. The thanks are necessary, though, I just wanted to help. What’s your question?”

Somehow, she looked even more unsure of herself at that, shoulders hunching in. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her knife, working the material nervously.

“Are…are we friends?” Izuku stared at her, confused. “It’s just. I’ve never had them. Friends, that is. Everyone only knew the fake me and, and my parents never let me see anyone outside of school and you’re so nice and you helped me and it feels like you understand me and I don’t have to, to pretend anymore, and-” she cut herself off with a quiet sob, trying to pull herself together.

It was official, Izuku was going to find this girl’s parents, rip out their stupid quirks, and throw them into the ocean. Pushing down the bubbling fury in his gut (Transform writhed like the fury of a chained demon), he moved towards her, bumping is shoulder against hers lightly, so she didn’t startle (she was still a little stab-happy when she was startled).

“Of course we’re friends. I think we’re getting along pretty well. Plus, we’re Knife Buddies now.” he said, brandishing his new knife.

Himiko immediately started sobbing, and threw herself into his chest, wrapping her good arm around him tight enough to bruise. He held one arm to the side, so he didn’t accidentally stab one of them, put loosely hooked his arm around her other shoulder.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Izu.”

He smiled, resting his head atop hers. “Don’t mention it, Himi-chan. That’s what friends are for.”

Chapter Text

It had been a little over a month since he and Himiko (Himi-chan, he had called her that once and she insisted that was her only name now) had become friends. 

Not every day was perfect. There were still days she closed herself off, or lashed out in anger, or stared at an online article with thinly veiled desperation (she never let him look, and he never pushed, but he was starting to think he should). But things had been…good. Really good, actually. Her skin was taking on a healthier color, now that she didn’t need to drink blood and was getting a regular supply of food (even if it was mostly instant cup noodles). On the other hand, his knife skills and stealth were at all-time highs, thanks to Himi-chan’s instruction. In return, he had taught her a bit of his own martial arts style, and they had absolutely decimated two more would-be burglars. 

Then came the time for him to start patrolling again. 

He had waited until Himiko was in good spirits, sat her down, and explained Null. Who he was, what he was doing, and even laid out Nashi’s case and his tentative partnership with Eraserhead. Frankly, he’d expected her to be fine with it, if a bit worried. Maybe he would have to impress on her the importance of keeping it a secret. This was nowhere close to what happened. 

“That sounds so cool, Izu! Can I come?!”

Izuku blinked at her. “You want to…come with Null on patrol.” She nodded fast enough to undo part of the buns she always kept her hair in. 

“It sounds fun!” she said, all smiles.

“I can assure you it is not. Satisfying, maybe. But it’s really dangerous. You’re talented, but you’re still recovering from over a year on the streets, I’d rather you not, at least until you’re healthier.”

Himiko pouted. “That’s so lame! I’m perfectly healthy!”

“I’m pretty sure I could lift you with one arm.” he replied. 

The pouting increased. “That’s just ‘cause you’re so strong! You could probably lift All Might!”

Thinking about it, he didn’t actually have any strength-boosting quirks at the moment. Maybe he could keep his eye out for one? They’re usually pretty subtle, and it would help a lot dealing with drug dealers higher up in the supply chain, since the higher ranking members typically had more desirable or useful quirks-

“Uh, what’re you mumbling about? I didn’t catch like, any of that.”

Oh, whoops. “Sorry, Himi-chan, just lost in thought. How about this- once you’re a bit healthier, and we’re sure your arm is healed up, I’ll take you on some of my less-exciting patrols. For now, though, I’m mostly going to be working with Eraser on Nashi’s case, and that’s a bit too high-profile for someone new. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Fiiine.” She sighed, leaning against him. She was a lot more touchy-feely when she was in a good mood. “Is that where you’re going tonight? Meeting up with that Eraser guy?” 

“Yep. He messaged me yesterday, said he finally got a lead we could use.” he nodded, standing up to finish pulling on the rest of his equipment. Himiko looked pensive though. 

“Promise me you’ll be safe? I’ll keep the computer on, if you need help call it, and I’ll come help, okay?” the desperation in her eyes was…concerning. He understood it though, a bit. 

“I’ll be fine. Eraserhead is a great hero, and I’m not going anywhere. But yes, I’ll call if I need help.” Sensing the mood, he opened his arms, and Himiko immediately sunk into a hug. After a final squeeze, she backed up, smiling wide and holding out his new knife, now adorned in a sheathe she had…obtained. 

“Have fun, Izu! Go stab someone for me!” 

—---------------------------------------------

He did not, in fact, stab someone. Even so, he’d slashed a fair few people and bopped a few others with the hilt of his knife. This deal had been a larger one, with enough product getting moved to require three suppliers. The downside was that the suppliers had two guards, and the buyer had two guards, and all of them had combat-oriented quirks. 

“On your left!” 

Null (and how he’d missed being Null) was shaken from his thought process by a flash of grey fabric, wrapping around a man who was about to bite him with razor-sharp teeth. It went taught before shifting direction, slamming the man into a wall and knocking him out. 

“Pay attention! I can see you daydreaming over here.”

That was another interesting development. Eraser was here. 

The two had met up as promised, but before they could exchange pleasantries, Eraser had gotten a tip from their shared detective friend about a deal about to go down a few miles away from them. They’d booked it like mad to get there in time, but it had paid off, and now they were two goons shy of getting everyone. Eraser turned his quirk at the last supplier, a man with a quirk that let him shoot darts from his palms, hair rising and eyes flashing beneath his goggles. In the man’s second of confusion at his quirk not firing, Null sprinted up to him and drop-kicked him in the chest, sending his head against the wall behind him with a sharp crack. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

The banging of metal had both of them whipping their gazes to a nearby fire escape, where the last conscious buyer was climbing up with a backpack full of cash, intent on making a getaway. Eraserhead was still securing the last villain on the ground, so Null pulled Helium into place, climbing up the side of the fire escape like a monkey.

“I’ll get him! Eraser, you take care of things here!”

“Null! Hold on a second!”

Ignoring the protests from the man below him, Null caught up to the escaping villain just as he crested the lip of the roof. Spinning on his heel towards him, the man opened his mouth, and the loudest scream he’d ever heard ripped through him hard enough to bruise.

A voice quirk! It’s kinda like Present Mic’s, only weaker!

Despite its make, his helmet didn’t cancel noise at all, and the shockwave alone nearly knocked him off of the roof. Reaching out with a hand, he Pulled against the villain, stopping himself from getting pushed back anymore, unless the man wanted to topple over with him. His feet steadied, Null tried to come up with a plan. He was teetering on the edge of a building, and the man had some impressive lung capacity, probably a secondary mutation from his quirk. Now that he’d adjusted, the sound was unpleasantly loud but not deafening, more of a shockwave than overwhelming volume. He could hold out until the man ran out of breath, and then-

Null felt his quirks vanish, and the screaming stopped. 

Not wasting the moment, he dashed forwards and socked the villain in the stomach, dropping him to his knees. A fast kick to the temple had him out cold. Peeking over the building, he gave Eraser a thumbs up, who had climbed halfway up the next building over to get a view of the two of them. 

—-----------------------

“I see you’re as brutal as ever.” Eraser sipped his coffee, sitting against the lip of the roof. 

After getting the criminals squared away (and Null hiding from the police for fifteen minutes), the underground hero had led him back to Darker Brews. While Izuku had denied getting a drink himself, he had accepted a baggie of pastries to take home for himself and Himiko. After, they’d settled on the roof of the adjacent building to talk. 

Null scoffed beneath his helmet. “I’m effective. I don’t exactly have access to a steady supply of handcuffs, so knocking them out is easier.”

Now it was the hero’s turn to scoff. “Knocking them out, he says. Kid, you gave five men concussions tonight, and stabbed another.”

“I did not stab him, I just cut him a little.”

Eraserhead glared. “It’s basically the same thing. Where’d you even get a knife like that anyways?”

Null patted the sheath on his belt. “Gift from a friend.”

“What kind of friend gifts people knives?” he asked.

Null shrugged. “The friend that thinks knives are cute, I guess.”

“Your friend sounds like a serial killer.”

“She is not!” It was definitely possible. He really needed to look Himi-chan up online, but she specifically asked him not to.

“Right. I’m just going to put a pin in that. We need to get to the reason I called you out here.”

Null perked up a bit at that. “You said you had a lead. What happened?” 

Eraserhead took another long pull at his drink, before setting the cup aside on the gravel roof. Reaching into his pocket, he rummaged for a moment before pulling his phone out, scrolling through a notes app. 

“Good news is that the bird tattoos showed up in our database.”

“And the bad news?”

Eraser frowned. “How much do you know about the Yakuza, kid?”

A daylight hero would say that the Yakuza were a dying breed, but most underground pros, and vigilantes by extension, knew better. While your classic, run-of-the-mill villains- your purse snatchers, bank robbers, even domestic terrorists- battled it out in the streets in a show of supremacy, the Yakuza worked in the dark. Before and during the Dawn of Quirks, they were Japan’s biggest criminal empires, but quirks changed the status quo to something once considered fiction. Even so, generations of amassed wealth, resources, and devout loyalty from its members allowed the Yakuza to survive even through the height of All Might’s career. They were not to be taken lightly. In recent years, the various Yakuza branches around Japan (at least the main ones) laid low and kept their hands relatively clean. They mostly dealt in international arms trading, some drug peddling, and in some cases, trafficking. Izuku had suspected, with such an obscure trail, that Nashi had likely come into contact with a Yakuza branch and suffered the consequences. 

Relaying all of this to Eraser, he asked. “So, what exactly are we dealing with here?” 

The hero sighed. “That’s the hard part. These guys aren’t a Yakuza group, at least we don’t think so. But,” he continued before Null could ask anything, “we’re pretty sure they were hired by one.”

“Hired by one? Why would a Yakuza group need to pay someone else to do their dirty work for them?”

“Because they’re trying to cover up something.” At Null’s silence, the hero continued. “The bird tattoos don’t mark any known gang, but there IS a Yakuza group that uses bird symbology as part of their calling card.” Flipping through his phone, Eraser pulled up a picture and presented it to him. It was a man, probably in his sixties, with grey hair and harsh eyes, wearing traditional Japanese clothing. 

“This is the head of the Shie Hassaikai, a Yakuza branch operating in the area. We’re aware of them, but they haven’t done anything to garner a warrant or anything other than general wariness. Beak-looking plague masks are part of their calling card, at least more recently.”

Null nodded along, but asked, “So if they haven’t done anything that we know of, why bring them up? The bird thing could just be a coincidence.”

The man nodded, following his thought process. “Rumor has it a someone new stepped in as boss recently. Now, leadership has to get handed off somehow, but it seems like nobody’s seen the old boss in some time now.”

Oh. He got it! “And the timeframe matches up with the start of the kidnappings and the increase in trigger sales!”

Eraser nodded. “Exactly. Normally, trafficking and drug peddling, even if you’re careful, will still put a mark on your back. But, if you hire an outside party, give them a similar, but not identical, mark to affiliate themselves with you…”

“With enough money you’d have an expendable work force loyal to your cause, whatever it is, and assuming you give them little to no info, that can take heroes and police off your trail.” Null finished. 

“Bingo. It’s a shame you’re not in my class, kid. You could give my second-years a run for their money.” 

Null hunched in on himself. “Nice of you to say Eraser, but I keep telling you I-”

“That you can’t be a hero, blah blah blah.” Eraser said, mocking him. “You’d be great at it and you know it.”

“But the Commission-”

“We can keep your name out of it.”

“You really can’t.”

Eraserhead rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. Anyways kid, I’ll drop it for today, just think about it.”

Null shrugged. “So we have to investigate this Yakuza group. What do we know about them, aside from them getting a new leader recently?”

The hero frowned at the change in subject, but soldiered on anyways. “Almost nothing. We have a vague idea of where they operate, but walking up to the front door would basically ruin everything. Not to mention that they’ll keep whatever business they’re in far from home, so to speak. A ‘don’t crap where you eat’ kind of thing.”

Null nodded, that made sense. “So we’re back to square one, then.”

Surprisingly, Eraser shook his head before going into his phone again. “Actually, no. I have a lead on one of their members, thanks to you.” 

Turning the device around, Null was treated to a blurry, grainy image, likely from a CCTV camera. On it was a cluster of three people. One was a man with dark, shaggy hair smoking a cigarette. Null didn’t recognize him. The other two were a little more obvious. One was blonde, hair swept down over one eye, wearing a cheap-looking suit and a large, beak-looking mask over his mouth. The second was-

“I know him!” his cry startled Eraser, who looked at him seriously.

“Explain.”

Null pointed at the third man, excitedly. “That’s the man I fought during that big bust in Hosu! The one I got the case from!” Lo and behold, the third man was bald, with a dark jacket and a white mask over the lower half of his face. It was the man with the crystal quirk and the bad attitude! (Seriously, he almost got shot so many times that night!)

“Well, that helps. The blonde man here, Setsuno Toya, is one of the only members of the Shie Hassaikai we have a name for. If the man with him is part of the supplier chain, he’s likely a member as well. The third man was the driver of the truck we stopped a few weeks back.” 

Oh. The guy Izuku had forgotten about and almost let escape. Oops. 

“This picture was apparently captured a few days before that, so we have positive confirmation on a connection between this gang and the Yakuza branch.”

Null looked up at Eraser curiously. “So now what?”

The hero pocketed his phone and stood up. Izuku winced as he heard the man’s back pop and crack as he moved. That probably wasn’t healthy. “Setsuno is self-absorbed, arrogant. Easy to get information out of. This is enough for the detective to get a warrant on him. We’ll watch him carefully for now, and the second he slips up we’ll catch him and interrogate him. The police will handle watching him, just be ready to move when we go to apprehend. I imagine he’ll be tough to grab.”

Naomosa loved his job, he supposed. 

That was an odd way to phrase it, sure, but it was how he felt. Or how he didn’t feel? His quirk was a bit niche, but it was powerful in its own right. The ability to discern truth from lie, just by hearing someone speak. Lie Detector could have landed him one of a thousand jobs, and he probably would have been good at most of them. His sister’s quirk, though it required skin contact, worked almost the same way his did, and she landed a lucrative (but busy) career in the American hero industry (Captain Celebrity’s continued status as Number Two Hero pretty much relied on her at this point). She was passionate about her work, driven and determined, while Naomosa…kind of…wasn’t. 

Not to say that he didn’t care about the people he helped, of course he did! He just…didn’t really like other cops. Or his boss. Or the coffee in the break room. Or the Commission trying to do his job for him half the time. Or people just using him for his quirk and ignoring his master’s degree-

He was getting off track. Maybe he was just tired. Why did he always agree to work overtime?

Because he cared. Not about the normal, day-to-day office crap, no. He cared about All Might, about Toshinori. He cared about every criminal he arrested, and every citizen he helped, despite some of his coworkers’ tendencies towards bad practice (being quirkist pricks). 

But despite the issues he had with both his career field and break room coffee, today he was wide awake and ready to work. This was the type of call he always took seriously, whether it was warranted or not. 

A wellness check was usually well below his paygrade, but when it came from All Might himself, however incognito, Naomosa wouldn’t give the job to anyone else. The man himself, in his more…emaciated form, sat shotgun in his squad car as he pulled into a random neighborhood several prefectures away from his home. 

Normally, the check would have to be conducted by local police, but given his quirk and the sheer amount of work he did, he had favors with pretty much every precinct in the greater Tokyo area by now. This one was easy. 

What worried him was the context. When All Might had told him that he’d picked someone to inherit One for All from him (and THAT was a whole bag of quirk science nonsense he tried not to think about) he’d been excited, but the hesitant tone in his friend’s voice left him suspicious. Toshinori was a bit airheaded at times, but heroes were trained to pick up on things like this, to recognize and diffuse delicate situations, and this was a man who had been a part of the scene for close to forty years. Maybe it was nothing. If it was, all the better, but Naomosa would have to be an idiot to ignore instincts like that. 

Checking the address in the girl’s file once more, Naomosa pulled his car along the curb to park, a few houses down. He would do this one by the book, which was why he was cleanly-shaven and decently caffeinated, uniform straight and tidy beneath his usual jacket like it was his first week on the job. He turned to his friend, who was wearing a dark, baggy suit that hung off his wire-thin frame and cleared his throat. 

“Stay in the car.”

Toshinori met his gaze, passive. “I will not.”

His eyes narrowed. “Stay in the car, Yagi. You promised.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I can have you arrested.”

“You won’t.”

Electric blue stared into brown, unflinching.

“...Damn it, fine.” The frail man didn’t even celebrate, just grinning and nodding. “You’re going to drive me into retirement one of these days.”

The grin widened. “Does that mean you’ll finally get some sleep?”

Naomosa frowned, mostly to himself. “Probably not. Usual cover then? Regular name?” With a nod from his friend, both men left the car and walked towards the Ashido household.

The house was nice, if a bit old. Medium-sized, two stories, probably just two or three bedrooms. The planter boxes on two of the windows were somewhat neglected, but the lawn was tidy and the trash cans were sitting in their proper spots. Nothing unusual to note. 

Stepping up a few small stairs and onto the covered front porch, Naomosa swung open a screen door, knocking loudly but not aggressively. Stepping back a few feet, he waited next to his friend. 

It only took a minute for the front door to swing open, revealing a woman who looked to be in her late-thirties, with tan skin and brown hair. She was wearing comfortable-looking clothes, likely either a stay at home parent, or she was just off today. It didn’t matter, regardless.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked politely. 

Naomosa offered a polite smile. “Apologies for bothering you. I’m police detective Tsukauchi. Would you happen to be Mrs. Ashido Fuwa?” 

The woman’s eyes went wide, mouth pulled into a surprised frown. “Um, yes, that’s me. Is-is there a problem, officer?”

Easy now. People get less cooperative when you spook them. “No problems right now, ma’am. My partner and I are here because we received an anonymous request for a wellness check. If you’d be willing to let us inside, we’d be in and out of here within a few minutes.”

He watched as her eyes narrowed, before settling on something closer to dull concern. What did that mean, he wondered? “I-I’m sorry, officer, I don’t understand. Why would you need to do a wellness check? It’s just me and my husband here.”

Truth. Interesting.

He made sure to keep his face neutral, pleasant. “When a request is made we have to take it seriously, false or otherwise. Just doing my job, ma’am, it really should only take a minute.” 

The woman seemed placated by that slight misdirection. He hadn’t said it was a false request, but saying that made her think that it was. Making people think he was ‘just doing the bare minimum to keep his job’ tended to work wonders. The way he styled his uniform and spoke were both intentional as well, making him look like a new recruit. 

Was it under-handed? Slightly manipulative? Sure. Did it work? Absolutely. And with his quirk, everything on his bodycam footage was admissible in court. 

“Just give me a moment. My husband and I both work from home, let me get him to hop off of his meeting, and then we can let you inside for whatever you have to do.” With a nod from him, the woman disappeared back into the house. 

As the door shut behind her, Toshinori turned to him. “So, what do you think?” 

He looked at his friend, arms crossed. “I’m not sure yet, honestly. Based on what she said, it sounds like their daughter isn’t home. I might have to question her later.”

After a moment, the door opened again, revealing a tall, adult man with pale blonde hair and fair skin. And the kid is pink? I’m sure THAT caused a few marital issues…

“What do you want?” Defensive off the jump. Not a great sign, but not a damning one, either. 

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m police detective Tsukauchi. I assume you’re Ashido Kokoro?”

“That’s me.” Truth.

“We’ve received an anonymous request for a welfare check. Pretty standard. If you’d allow my partner and I inside, we could be in and out of here in just a few minutes.” Naomosa made sure to keep his tone even, as he had with the wife. 

The man crossed his arms, looking displeased. “And why would someone call this in on my house, of all places? We bein’ accused of something?”

“Of course not, sir.” Naomosa shook his head. “I don’t always get a reason with the request, but these are pretty standard.”

Ashido looked unimpressed. “Well as you can see, everything’s fine, so just check the box and go about your day. My wife and I have to get back to work.” 

This is where it got a bit harder. Legally, he could refuse them entry, and then Naomosa would have to get a warrant. Without probable cause, that would either be impossible or could take months. 

“Would you mind if we spoke inside? It really will just take a minute.” He glanced at Yagi, who had been silent through the entire exchanged, but sported a frown as he assessed the man in front of him.

“I DO mind actually. What are you here for? And who is this creepy-looking guy you brought? Doesn’t look like a cop to me.” The man uncrossed his arms, putting them down at his sides, posture switching from defensive to aggressive. He’d probably kick them off his porch soon, and legally they had to leave unless he got combative. 

Frown deepening slightly, Toshinori glanced at him with his typical I’m going off script, sorry-not-sorry face. 

“Yagi Toshinori. I’m a social worker. Sorry to be blunt, Mr. Ashido, but is your daughter home?” To the outsider, his tone was neutral and polite, but Naomosa could hear something under his tone. 

“What? We don’t have a daughter. You people aren’t really cops, I don’t recognize you from around here. Get off my property before I call the real police.”

Toshinori flinched, either in surprise or anger, but Naomosa froze. 

Lie.

He put a bit more authority into his voice. “Ashido Mina, your daughter. We have her on file at this address. Your wife said she wasn’t home. Do you know where she is?”

The barest sheen of sweat appeared on the man’s brow as he doubled down. “I told you chuckle-fucks, we don’t HAVE any kids! (LIE) Now leave before I call the chief myself. Either you’re not real cops or you’re not from around here, but I don’t have to stand here and get accused of shit by a newbie and a walking skeleton.”

As he turned around and ripped open the door, Naomosa took a step closer. “Sir we have your daughter on file, and I have a lie detecting quirk. Where is Ashido Mina?” 

The man glared over his shoulder at them, door half-open. Naomosa could see Fuwa in the background, whispering into a phone while hunched over. She met his eyes and froze as her husband spoke. 

“That thing is no daughter of mine.” 

He slammed the door. Steam wafted past his face as Toshinori clenched his fists. 

Naomosa turned off his camera with a sigh. People always disappointed him.

Chapter Text

“Test complete, 9:17pm. Injecting subject with quirk enhancers.”

The man thrashed against his restraints on the table, screaming and drooling. Thick plastic tubing ending in needles plunged into his skin, injecting him with god-knows what to see if his quirk could be re-started.

A quirk that he did not have.

Mikumo Deleter could feel it under his skin. A dense ball of warm energy that he had yet to learn the function of. Mikumo needed to say something, needed to reach out, to help-

But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He was young, too young for this place, but he knew. If they knew what he could really do, he’d never see outside again. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he felt it, deep in his guts.

Another man would die because Mikumo was a coward. Would a hero save him? Would anyone?

The man on the table was wearing a cape when they brought him here. Maybe it didn’t matter if a hero came or not.

“Izukuuuuu! I’m bored!”

Null slammed to a stop atop the roof, nearly tripping and stumbling at the sudden shout in his ear.

“Talk to meeee! I know you can hear me!~”

He huffed a sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed, before answering. “You need to call me Null when I’m in costume. Also, I almost just tripped off a roof, so thanks.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! I’m booooored! And nobody can hear me in the helmet, so why can’t I use your name?”

It had been about a week since his last meetup with Eraserhead, and while the lead they had was solid, tracking someone down took time, and Izuku was antsy. He’d decided to start patrolling regularly again, and had been having a pretty quiet night when Himiko decided to call his helmet and scare the crap out of him.

“Because someone might have a hearing quirk or something. There are all kinds out there, you know.” He would certainly know. Some of his quirks were pretty weird.

“Fiiine. But for the record, Null isn’t a very cute name.”

Null rolled his eyes. “It isn’t supposed to be cute, Him-er, you. It has a symbolic meaning-”

The sound of Himiko blowing a raspberry echoed through his helmet. “Yeah, yeah, I know. If we’re using codenames, I get one too! But it has to be cute!”

Izuku mulled over that a moment. “What about Carmilla? That vampire from old media?”

“Er, no thanks. Maybe something else.” Her ex-quirk was still a touchy subject.

“Blondie?”

“What? No, I’m not a stripper OR a musician.”

“Phantom?”

“Too edgy.”

“...Stabby?”

“Tempting, but no. You kinda suck at this.”

He huffed, crossing his arms and sitting on the edge of the apartment building roof he’d climbed up, letting his legs swing over the edge. “Well, let’s hear your bright ideas then.”

“....Knife-chan?”

He couldn’t help it, he snorted and started laughing. He could hear Himiko’s affronted gasp.

“Well-I couldn’t come up with anything on the spot!”

The laughter continued until he almost rolled himself right off the edge of the roof. “I’m-I’m sorry, that was-pfftt! You asked me to come up with something on the spot, and all I get outta you is ‘Knife-chan?’ I am so telling Eraserhead about this.”

“You will not!”

“I will!”

“I’ll-I’ll unplug the ice box and melt all of your popsicles!”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Bet.”

A loud clang from below, something metal, grabbed his attention. “Wait, hold on a second. I hear something.”

“Oooh! Let me see!”

“Himiko, I don’t have video on this thing.”

“What? Yes you do. Did you not know that?”

What.

[Incoming Video Call: Accept?]

[Yes                            No]

WHAT.

“Fine, but keep it at a whisper, I need to focus.”

Accepting the call and apparently streaming his view to the laptop back home, Null pulled on Helium and leapt from the roof, sliding down a gutter pipe to the alley several stories below. Creeping around the corner, he caught sight of two people on the side of the road, struggling amidst a knocked-over trashcan.

The two appeared to both be men, with baggy dark clothing and no noticeable quirk mutations. They were rolling around on the ground, punching and kicking wildly. Just in case, he slotted Pull into place and skulked out of the alley, turning his voice modulator on something adult-sounding.

“What’s the matter here, gentlemen?”

The two stopped struggling but did not disengage. One man, who was now holding the other down against a wall by his shirt, had scraggly blonde hair and a nasty-looking scar on his neck. The other was bald and seemed to have a lot of missing teeth.

The blonde spoke first. “The fuck do you want? Mind your own business!” This was punctuated by a punch to the other man’s head, his skull cracking against the wall loud enough to make Izuku wince. The man seemed to barely feel it though, as he kicked the blonde in the stomach, sending him sprawling across the ground clutching at his midsection.

“Fucker owes me some serious cash. Beat it, kid. You’re not gunna wanna see this.” The bald man said, advancing on blondie as he scrambled to his feet.

Technically, Null wasn’t really needed here. There wasn’t exactly a crime being committed, besides owing that one guy money, he supposed. Even so, he should stick around to make sure-

“Izu-er, Null! Look down there!”

Himiko’s shout let him snap his attention to the blonde, who’s hand was behind his back, skin warbling and changing- oh no.

As the bald man moved in to take another swing, blonde snapped his arm forward, hand now changed into a sharp-tipped spearhead. With a sickening squelch, it pierced the other man right in the stomach as he doubled over in pain. Blonde visibly paled, seemingly recognizing what he had just done, in front of a witness no less. He withdrew his hand from the other man, blood splattering onto the concrete as his victim collapsed and began bleeding out.

“Izu-Null I- oh, god.”

“You might want to look away.” he whispered to his friend. She didn’t respond, so he wasn’t sure if she was still watching or not.

“You-I…oh, fuck.” Glancing at the blonde, the man turned on his heel and sprinted down the alleyway. Null could go after him and catch him, but the man on the ground probably wouldn’t survive.

He let the villain go. Running over to the bleeding man, he rummaged around in his belt for some gauze. He was terrible at first aid, but something was better than nothing. He crammed wads of bandage in the wound to stop the bleeding, and addressed the man, who was starting to look pale.

“Keep pressure on it okay? I’m going to call you an ambulance.”

He startled as his wrist was grabbed. The man spoke in a rushed whisper, eyes wide. “No, no hospital, I-”

“Will actually die otherwise. Please, don’t be stupid.” The man had nothing to say to that. He whipped out his phone and called 119, requesting an ambulance and giving his location. He’d wait here until the ambulance showed up to make sure this guy didn’t die, then he’d go find-

Thud! CRASH!

His eyebrows shot up of their own accord as more trashcans went scattering into the road, impacted by a familiar blonde man.

Null glared, and took up a stance. “What? Come back to brag, you-”

“Easy there, kid. I got him.”

His stance faltered as a black, odd-looking rope lashed out of the alleyway, looping around the man’s waist and pulling him onto to his ass. Skulking out of the alley on quiet footsteps was a relatively short man in dark blue spandex. His outfit had gold trim on it, complete with a gold headband, a dark red line across his chest and some kind of red scarf. An underground hero, like Eraserhead! If his memory was correct, this hero was…

“Mr. Brave?” he asked, bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

The man plucked a long hair from his head, the strand widening and hardening until it resembled some kind of club. He smacked Blondie in the head and watched him fall limp, before responding to Null’s question.

“Covered a patrol for someone. You’re…Null, right? I’ve heard about you through the grapevine.”

Well that wasn’t great. People were talking about him.

“Shit! Did you call an ambulance for this guy already?” Null startled as Brave slid to his knees next to the second man. He was awake, probably, but not very coherent. The bandages beneath his hand were red.

“Kid you did a terrible job packing this. Who taught you first aid?”

Shame welled up inside him, but he forged on. “Nobody.” he said curtly.

Brave looked surprised for a moment, before waving him over urgently. “Well that changes tonight. Get over here, now.”

He was hesitant to trust a hero other than Eraserhead, but desperate times. Checking to see the video call to Himiko was still going, Null trudged over and whispered into the line.

“Pay attention to this. You should know how to do it too, just in case.”

“...Yeah, okay.”

Nodding to himself, Null took in the information as quickly as he could, as Mr. Brave quickly and efficiently took more rolled bandage out of his own utility belt, carefully folding them and applying them on top of his own terrible patch job.

“You’re not removing the old ones? Aren’t they useless?” he asked, confused.

Brave shook his head. “No, anything is better than nothing, and removing the bandages could damage his blood vessels and make him bleed out faster. Plus, we don’t want anything else getting in the wound and infecting it.” Null nodded along. “This isn’t too deep, but it’ll definitely need stitches. Based on the fact you’re not dead already, looks like he didn’t hit anything too important. Hey buddy, are your feet cold? Can you wiggle your toes around without moving your legs?”

Looking down, Null could see the man’s toes moving around in his shoes. “N-not too cold, I think.”

The hero nodded, before putting a hand on his shoulder while glancing at Null out of the corner of his eye. “That means you’re not going into shock or anything. I’ve managed to slow the bleed down, and the ambulance should be here any minute, so you’ll be fine.”

Null took this in, before speaking for the first time in several minutes, just as flashing red lights became visible down the street beneath a wailing siren. “Thank you for helping him.”

The hero looked confused at this, before smirking. “That’s why I’m here, kid. Listen, I’ve heard good things. I don’t know why you’re here, but you coulda left this man to die, gone on with your night, but you didn’t. Sounds easy, but it’s a gold star in my book. Get outta here before the cops show up, kay?”

Nodding, Null ran off into an alley, leaping between walls until he was back on the rooftops, moving off to continue his patrol.

“Do you really think we can help?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think this is all worth it, if we get to help people?”

“Ha! What a load of bull! They’re not doing this to help people, you idiot! They’re doing it because it suits them.”

“I know that! I just mean for us. Like, we’ll be heroes at the end of this, right? Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Maybe you will be, birdbrain. But me? And the squirt here? Nah, they got other ideas for us, I’m sure of it. We’re too…different.”

He wasn’t sure how to take that. Wasn’t being a hero…the whole point?

Did he still want that? Could he even be one if he did?

A cold hand grabbed his chin, moving his face up to look into bright blue eyes.

“What do you think, Deleter? Wanna be a hero?”

—-------------------------------

“-ull. Hey, Null. Null! IZUKU!”

Izuku tripped, tumbling ass over tea kettle onto a gravel roof he had been running across.

“Sorry, sorry. What were you saying?”

“I kept asking if you were okay! And you kept ignoring me! What’s the matter? Is it about that guy? Hairy-man said he’d live.”

“No, no, not that.” he mused.

“Okay, then what?” A good question. He’d been spacing out a lot today. Something had bad memories crawling out of his brain.

“Sorry. Just having a day. Maybe I should just come home.”

“Maybe you should! Come on, I got hot chocolate!” That…sounded really good, actually. Patrol had been busy, and Null had done a lot of good work, maybe he could just end patrol early for once instead of staying out until he was dead on his feet.

Taking a few moments to orient himself, Izuku started moving in the direction of home, moving at a calm pace so as to not wake anyone up as he leapt on their roofs. The night was fairly silent, until his friend’s soft voice reached his ears after a few minutes.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

Did he? He’d never spoken about his past with…anyone, actually. Too much baggage, too many weird memories. It wasn’t really worth digging up, anyways.

“Not really. Thanks, though.” Another few rooftops passed by, and he found himself feeling strangely…lonely.

“I could use some company, though. Why don’t you tell me about what you learned in school today?”

“Ooh! Okay, so! Science! Not super-cute, but there was this neat thing I learned today about the states of matter…” Izuku couldn’t help but smile, listening to Himiko’s excited chatter. He never would’ve guessed the near-rabid girl that tried to eat him would have been such a nerd.

Over the next few minutes, Izuku continued trailing his path home, taking his usual roundabout way to shake off any potential tails, while Himiko switched from science over to complaining about math (‘triangles are the shape of the DEVIL, Izuku! Who CARES what the angles add up to? And why do I have to ‘prove’ something’s a triangle? It literally says triangle in the problem!’) when he caught sight of a small plume of black smoke, off to the right in his periphery. He stopped a moment, regarding it.

He could check it out, but he also kind of just wanted to go home. That wasn’t a very heroic mindset, but he also technically wasn’t a hero.

Wanna be a hero?

“Hey, you gunna check that out?”

Izuku hummed to himself, thinking, before smiling and nodding. “Yeah, one more before bed.”

—-----------------------

He regretted seeing the smoke.

Helium barely saved his skin as he leapt above a dumpster careening into the wall with a deafening crash, spraying trash across the alleyway he’d dropped into.

“What the heck, man?! That would’ve killed me!” he shouted.

“Then stay still and come along quietly, you little punk!”

Standing at the opposite end of the alley was large, intimidating man. He wore a blue jacket and pants with striped black and yellow armbands, with a similar one on his head. He scowled at Null, a still-flaming trash can brightening his features, fists at his sides.

Death Arms. Fan-freaking-tastic. Izuku had gone to investigate the plume of smoke he saw, and had just found a group of three homeless people around a burning trashcan. He’d been about to warn them to put it out and head out, all peaceful-like, when Death Arms came stomping into the alley, shouting something about loitering and arson. Naturally, they had tried to tell him off, but then he had reached out and grabbed one hard enough for them to cry out.

Even without Himiko’s affronted gasp in his ears, his next actions wouldn’t have changed. He had leapt from the roof he was on, landing directly on the man’s arm and causing him to release his grip. He knew the man was strong, but his arm wasn’t even bruised!

Death Arms was famous for being a no-nonsense kind of hero. He was strong, he was durable, and he was brutal. He was, however, also a dick. Online articles constantly slammed him, citing multiple instances of excessive force and property damage, not to mention his nasty attitude towards villains and civilians alike. He usually played up his crap for the cameras in a clear bid to get a higher rating, too. Naturally, the Commission pretended like they didn’t notice.

He also had a grudge towards vigilantes.

Izuku wasn’t sure why that was, but the man seriously had it out for them. He hadn’t even fully landed before the man was swinging at him, close enough for Null to feel the air pressure from his punches. One good hit, and Null was done for.

He dove to the ground and rolled as a trash can sailed over him, crunching against the wall. Heavy footsteps clued him in to the hero’s advance and he barely had time to dodge as another wide punch narrowly avoided turning his bones to paste. He was strong, incredibly so, but he was uncoordinated. He’d seen Death Arms fight on TV before, he probably had no martial arts training and just punched things until they died or stopped moving. He could use that lack of coordination, hopefully.

Null continued to duck and weave through punches and swings, until the hero swung his fist in a wide arc, grabbing another dumpster and arcing it towards him like a weapon. Holy whoa!

Helium saved the day again, but only barely, as he jumped straight up, catching the lip of the dumpster in one hand and traveling with it as Death Arms followed through on his swing, slamming both it and him into a wall when he couldn’t let go in time.

He was lucky his helmet actually functioned as a helmet instead of just a glorified smartphone, he’d probably have a concussion otherwise. Slotting the quirk away and backing up a few steps, he tried his next tactic: talking out of his ass.

“Hey, I know you don’t love me, but do you really have to go for the kill here? C’mon, man.”

Death Arms smirked, before grabbing a new dumpster (the first one he had thrown) and pulling it behind him sideways. Null tried to back up, but just ran into the second dumpster the hero had just tossed. He had trapped him between them!

“Nice try. The Commission’ll give me a nice reward for bringing you in. I’m looking forward to it.”

Crap, the bounty! Izuku knew the Commission had put a bounty on his head, but nobody important had tried to collect on it until now. Most heroes either tolerated him or thought he wasn’t worth the trouble. He needed a plan out of this, and fast. His hand went to his belt, fumbling through his various party-store supplies and half of a first-aid kit for something that could help.

No, no, no- yes!

Grabbing a small but fairly-illegal firecracker from his belt pouch, he weighed his options. He could use this to blind and disorient Death Arms, but he needed time to light it. He had a lighter in his pouch as well, or he could use Magma Spit, but he had a feeling the hero wouldn’t just stand back and give him the opportunity. Plus, if he saw it coming he’d be ready for it, and then Null was as good as dead.

True to form, Death Arms chose that moment to rush forwards and clobber him, a heavy punch going wide. Since flight was out for the moment, he’d have to fight. Moving into the man’s space (and secretly relishing his look of surprise) Null jabbed out with his free hand three times. The first hit struck the throat, making the man gasp and gag, the second two hit his diaphragm and sternum, causing him to sputter and drop to one knee and get his breath back. The man swung out again with a vicious backhand that he was unable to dodge at this range, and while it lacked lethal power Null was still sent sprawling across the alleyway, slamming into the dumpster and denting it. Freaking strength quirks. This jerk doesn’t deserve his, I should just take it.

He slammed a lid over that thought. Into the intrusive box at the back of the brain, thank you very much.

Struggling to his feet, he winced when a sharp pain rang out in his back, he’d probably pulled something on impact. He didn’t know, he wasn’t a doctor. Now hunched over, he frantically got out his lighter, trying once, twice, three times to get it to light but no luck. When was the last time I replaced this thing? Oh crapcrapcrap-

He rolled to the side again as a fist impacted right where his head was moments before, not denting the metal but puncturing straight through it. Oh, no…

“Stop squirmin’, kid. Only makes this harder for both of us.”

Null sneered beneath his mask. “I doubt that. I’m more of a hero than you are.”

His back arched in pain again, and suddenly he was being lifted by the front of his shirt, tight in Death Arm’s grip.

“We’ll see what the higher-ups think about that. It takes a real hero to bring in scum like you. Those pansies around here let you run around in your little costume causing issues, but frankly, I’m sick of seeing your name spread around like you actually do any good.”

Izuku punched and kicked whatever he could reach, to no effect. The man was too strong! Death Arm’s free hand came up, fingers closing around his neck and squeezing hard enough to bruise.

Can’t breathe! Crap! Do I take his quirk? Can’t…can’t reach his head.

His quirk worked better when he could use it on someone’s head. He always suspected that was where quirk genes lived. He…had used his quirk on other skin contact before, but the result was usually messy, and it took both a lot more time and more focus, neither of which Izuku had. Quirk-stealing was off the table.

His vision had started to get spotty, and his windpipe felt like it was being crushed. Glancing up through the haze, the hero had a dark smirk on his face.

“Actually? Let’s save em the trouble of bringin’ you in. Two birds, one stone. Now, who do we have under the mask, huh?” He reached up, the hand originally on his shirt now palming his helmet. Izuku reached for a quirk, any quirk, that could help him, but he was coming up short.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t-

THUNK! THUNK!

The fingers around his neck released him, and he fell to the ground a coughing mess. Sucking in precious, precious air, Izuku tried to clear the spots as fast as he could, scrambling to get some distance from the pro hero, and was shocked as he looked up.

Two knives protruded from Death Arm’s torso, one in each shoulder. The man whipped his head back and forth, eyes wide and expression pained.

“The fuck? Dammit, show yourself!”

THUNK!

A third knife whipped from over Izuku’s head, embedding itself into the man’s thigh, sending him to the ground clutching his leg.

Still hacking and coughing Izuku rolled onto his stomach and watched as someone appeared on top of the dumpster behind him. They practically oozed out of the shadows, wrapped in dark, baggy clothing. Black pants sagged, held up by three belts, while a dark hoodie practically swallowed their form, showing nothing. Their face was covered by a medical mask. All he could really see was a bit of pale skin on their forehead and-

Two golden eyes, nearly glowing in the dark.

His mouth dropped open. Himiko?!

The figure glanced at him; a soft, whispered voice hit his ears.

“We have to go.” HOLY CRAP it was Himiko?! Did she…did she seriously come out to save him?

Were those his clothes?!

Setting that aside for later, he saw Himiko’s eyes widen as she dove, ducking for cover as the dumpster previously blocking the other end of the alley was hurled at them, crashing into the other in a deafening screech of metal. Both receptacles tumbled and bent before coming to a stop.

“I’ll fucking kill you for that!” Death Arm’s face was twisted in a raged grimace, eyes wild as he ripped the knives from his body and threw them onto the ground. He marched forwards, slamming his fist into the building next to him as he went, cracking and pulling out bricks.

His gaze frantically searched out Himiko, who was recovering from her stumble and trying to keep her (his) pants up. “How many more throwing knives you got?”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Two.”

He nodded. “Use them. Retreat on my signal. You’ll know what it is.”

“Bet.”

He couldn’t control his gasp as Himiko vanished before his eyes, blending into the shadows. She was so teaching him how to do that. Meanwhile, he watched Death Arms, and waited.

After a moment, Himiko re-appeared much closer to the hero than he was expecting. Caught off guard, he flinched back, throwing a wild punch. Himiko dodged backwards with a hop, letting the brick in the man’s grasp shatter against a wall as she let loose two more throwing knives that sunk into the man’s arm. He roared in pain as Himiko leapt straight at him, actually jumping onto and up off his arm, flipping over his head.

As he turned around to give chase, Izuku did something he’d normally avoid at all costs- he ripped off his helmet. Quick as he could, he yanked Magma Spit into place, spitting a glowing red glob onto the pavement before shoving the helmet back onto his head. Leaning down he used the rapidly-cooling liquid to light the fuse of his firecracker.

Pulling on Helium, he dashed towards the hero, who had now backed Himiko to the mouth of the alley. She was dodging him pretty well, but she was still inexperienced in fights like this.

“NOW!” he yelled and tossed the firecracker right at the back of Death Arm’s head. The hero spun around, ready to clobber him, as the firework erupted, filling the alley with intense lights and loud pops of multi-colored sparks. The man yelled and clutched at his eyes, but Izuku had already turned on his heels and ran, vaulting the destroyed dumpsters with ease and leaving the alley.

Heart still pounding in his ears, feet assaulting the pavement, he sprinted for two blocks, before bounding up and between two other buildings, finally pulling himself onto a random three-story roof and rolling onto his back.

He waited a minute, then two, then five, before he heard the sound of grating metal. Izuku rolled to his feet, breathing ragged from his near-suffocation, and pulled out his own knife, ready to stab the hero should he-

“Will you- *huff* slow down! Not all of us are- *huff* used to this.” Izuku slumped in relief as Himiko pulled herself onto the roof, a chipped knife held in each hand, likely used to scale the building and reach him. She pulled her hood down and mask off before sinking to her knees.

The two of them sat there for some time, catching their breath. Izuku’s throat hurt, and was probably horrifically bruised. He was lucky Death Arms hadn’t crushed his windpipe! He’d need to ice it and probably take it easy for a few days. Honestly, he figured that if the hero had actually wanted to kill him, he really could have just snapped his neck. The Commission probably wanted him alive, then. That was a concerning thought.

He was broken from his musings when two slender hands grabbed his shoulders and started to shake him.

“Are you CRAZY?! I thought you were gunna die!” Himiko had tears rolling down her face. Good job, Izuku. First friend in years and you already made her cry.

Coughing a bit, Izuku yanked off his helmet, setting it on the ground next to him, before pulling HImiko into a tight hug. Her body shook with quiet sobs as she clung to him for dear life.

“I-I’m sorry, Himi-chan. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

She sniffed, sobs lessening after a minute, but her head remained on his shoulder.

“I can’t- I can’t lose you. Not now. Please.” Her desperation nearly broke his heart. He squeezed her tighter, despite the pain it caused his throat. He…didn’t know what to say. He might die doing this one day. He knew that, had come to peace with it. Null was a guilty pleasure, a way for him to cope with the people hadn’t saved, a way for him to actually help people. A way for him to take back what people took from him, eventually.

But he knew that eventually his luck might run out. Could he promise not to get hurt? No. Could he promise to stop? He didn’t think so. Take away Null, and what was he?

Just a filthy, homeless quirk-thief with nobody to miss him.

Except…maybe someone would.

He thought of Himiko, of Eraserhead. Even the detective, to a point. They didn’t know the real him, not fully. They never would. But they did like Null, and Himiko definitely needed Izuku around to help her.

He sighed. Maybe he needed to try a little harder.

Gently releasing his friend, he looked at her. Golden eyes red and puffy, shoulders still shaking. A few tears still trailed down her face, and she spoke.

“Do…do you really need to do this?”

He nodded. “I…I do. For me, and for Nashi. I…I want to help these people.”

She frowned. “I know. Just- why can’t you just become a hero? You’d be way better than that shitty old guy I stabbed.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, even though it sent him into a coughing fit. “They’d never let me.”

The frown turned into a pout. “What about that Eraser guy? I bet he could help.”

Izuku doubted it, honestly. If he took the exam the Commission would probably just kill him. They knew his face, after all. “I don’t think so.”

Himiko looked like she wanted to say something else, but stopped herself with a pout. “Fine. But if you’re gunna keep getting into trouble, make sure you come home safe, okay? I’ll make sure to come get you again if I need to.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Himi-chan for coming to save me. I’m…I’m sorry I scared you. I promise I’ll do better, okay?”

She huffed. “You better. Now let’s go home. My hot chocolate is probably cold by now.”

Home sounded nice.

Chapter Text

It was frustrating for him, to take weeks off of patrolling to heal, going out once, and having to sit on his butt and heal again.

Part of him just soaked it in. The quiet of the night, the freedom of leaping between buildings. The rush of adrenaline in combat and the little boost he got from helping someone in need.

And yes, sometimes the quirks.

Even so, Himiko had thoroughly stuck him on bed rest until his throat and back felt better from their brush with Death Arms. More like Jerk Arms. Eh, no that sounded dumb.

Anyways, things had gotten better. Himiko had been strangely…protective of him since that night, and he hadn’t been able to go back on patrol until he had agreed to let her shadow him a bit. She never got involved in any other incidents, but having her at his back was a kind of reassurance he never realized he’d been missing until he started working with Eraserhead.

Himiko didn’t particularly like patrolling though, so after two days of dragging around baggy pants and a hoodie far too large for her, she decided that it would enough for him to video call her when he went out. This ended up being better for both of them in the long run, since they could still keep each other company and Izuku usually got hot chocolate when he got home. It was a good deal.

Of course, the tradeoff for that was acquiring three new knives to replace the ones Himiko had lost fighting Death Arms, which ate through a considerable portion of his cash. (The utter glee on her face was worth it).

Tonight, though, was big. Eraserhead had texted him for another meeting, and told him to be prepared to fight. He was pretty sure they were tackling some Yakuza tonight.

Moving around the apartment, Izuku methodically strapped the various pieces of his costume into place, taking note of all the new additions he (and Himiko) had made over the last few days.

He had gotten some new reinforced padding to wear beneath his sweatshirt, and Himiko had stolen found him some new socks. He had bought a collapsible staff off of the internet, which now hung on his belt. His first aid kit had been re-stocked and upgraded a little, and he had a slew of fireworks and stupid party gags hiding in the pouches (along with a new lighter!).

Finally, Himiko had gifted him two of her nicer (‘cutest’) knives. Two small daggers, smoothed and polished with care, were stuck into a newly-crafted sheath, one in each of his boots. His own serrated knife was stored across his back, where Eraserhead kept his.

He turned to his friend, who was glancing over his costume appraisingly. “Everything look okay?”

She eyed him for another moment, before nodding. “Yup! Super deadly, very cute! Go stab someone for me!”

Blushing a bit at being called cute (even if the term was Himiko-speak for ‘able and willing to kill’), he yanked on his helmet and set off towards the coordinates he’d been sent.

“You’re late.”

Null winced as he pulled himself back onto the rooftop. Their meetup had been scheduled for 1am, and by his clock it was exactly 1:06.

“I got held up.”

The man glared. “Then you should have left earlier to account. Wasting time is illogical. Now come on, I’ll brief you while we move, we’re heading to the docks.”

Shaking his head, Null followed Eraserhead as they started to silently cross rooftops. After a few minutes, he spoke.

“We got a lead on Setsuno. He and Hojo Yu, the man with the crystal quirk, will be at the docks overseeing an influx of materials tonight. Our job will be to scope the place out and make the call to the police, after which I will assist in making the arrests. Got it?”

Null asked, “What about me, then?”

Eraserhead just shrugged as he moved. “Stay out of it. These are dangerous criminals. I’d rather not have you get involved at all, but I know if I’m not here to watch you, you’d just seek them out on your own and got shot at some more.”

Himiko cackled in his ear, and he flushed. “I’m not some little kid, Eraser! I can handle myself just fine!”

As they landed on the next rooftop, Null gasped as his feet were yanked from underneath him, sending him tumbling onto the roof and nearly over the opposite side, before a hand roughly yanked his collar back onto solid ground. Looking up in disbelief, he saw Eraser giving him an unimpressed look as his capture weapon was wrapped around his ankles.

“Eraser what f-HECK was that for?!” he yelled, pointing.

To his credit, the man just rolled his eyes. “You say you can handle yourself, but you couldn’t even dodge that. I spent extra time telegraphing it on purpose.”

He crossed his arms, legs still tied together. “I wasn’t looking at you!”

The hero just raised a brow. “You should be. You need to pay attention to your surroundings, right?”

“Well I trust you not to trip me, so I wasn’t looking out for it!”

“So you trust me, huh?”

Izuku clammed up at that, face hot. He had not meant to say that! It’s not his fault that his favorite hero wanted to work with him! The man had acted trustworthy, sue him!

“I will throw you off of this roof, Eraserhead.” the man smirked, damn him.

‘Izuuu! That’s so sweet! You didn’t tell me you had a dad!’

“Oh don’t even start with that!” he yelled into his helmet.

“Don’t start with what?”

Izuku froze, glancing at Eraserhead, who was looking at him with confusion.

“Are you talking to someone?” he narrowed his eyes. “Who else can see me?”

Izuku backtracked. “Oh! Uh, just a-a friend!”

Eraser glared. “Problem Child do not lie to me. You were working with someone else this whole time?”

He backtracked. “Not, uh, not this whole time. It’s only been a few weeks. They’re kind of doing a ‘guy in the chair’ type thing for me.”

The hero huffed. “Fine. That would have been good to know, though. Heroes need to be able to take care of things on their own, but we always work better with good support. Don’t forget that.”

Izuku scratched at an old scar on his chest, absentmindedly. “But I’m not a hero.”

“Not yet.”

“You could be!”

He groaned. “Oh god now it’s both of you on me about this.”

Eraser raised a brow. “You know, it’d be better if I could hear them too, especially if they’re going to be helping us keep an eye out. Care to patch me in?”

Izuku went to speak, and then stopped. “I…don’t know how.”

“Oh! I can do it! Ask Eraserhead what the frequency of his earpiece is!”

“What?! Him-er, uh, never mind.” He huffed. “How exactly do you know how to do stuff like that?”

Himiko’s voice, impossibly, perked up even further. “I looked up some stuff! You know, to help! Since I don’t really like coming out on patrol, I thought I could learn a few things. By the way, I hooked up our laptop to the Dark Web.”

Izuku blinked once. Twice. He’d shelve that for a later discussion.

After having Eraser read off his comms frequency, Izuku heard a brief click in his helmet, followed by some feedback that quickly smoothed itself out.

“Testing, 1, 2, 3! Eraser-san, can you hear me?”

Eraserhead blinked, before looking at Izuku. “Not quite the voice I was expecting. And you are?”

“Uuuuh….”

Izuku smirked under his helmet. “Her name is Knife-chan.”

“What?! Null, I said no to that naaaame!”

Eraser buried his face in his capture weapon in a gesture Izuku quickly realized meant he was hiding a smile. “So you’re the one who thinks knives are ‘cute’, then?”

“They ARE cute! Boys just don’t get it. Anyways, I can see everything that, uh, Null can. Can’t exactly hack into cameras…yet, but I’ll keep an eye on things, kay?”

The hero nodded, taking things in stride. Guess they had a support person now. “For the sake of ease, I don’t think ‘Knife-chan’ will work too well in combat. How about I call you something else instead?”

“Null’s name ideas all sounded dumb!”

“I didn’t hear anything better from you!”

“Well YEAH. Naming things isn’t my job!”

“And it’s supposed to be mine?”

“Okay, stop.” Eraser rubbed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “We have a job to do here, and I listen to enough bickering children at my day job. Problem Child Number Two, I’m going to call you ‘Void’ instead, okay? You can save the knife-talk for when we’re off the job.”

“What? Why Void? That doesn’t sound very cute.”

“Oh!” Null exclaimed. How did they not think of it before? “Like ‘null and void’, right? Him-er, Knife-chan, it’s like a team name!”

Silence reigned over the line for a moment, before Himiko let out an excited squeal. “We match! I love it! Thanks, Eraser!” Guess it was decided, then.

The man rolled his eyes with a quiet ‘you’re welcome’, before he glanced at Null, looking more serious. “Alright Problem Child, let’s get moving.”

‘Void’ was kinda cool, but that nickname was going to get old fast.

“Duck!”

Null ducked beneath a metal pipe coming towards his head, wielded by a man with prominent cow mutations. Cranking on Pull, he yanked the thug’s pipe towards him, bringing his arm in with it and opening his guard. Putting his weight behind a vicious uppercut straight to the chin, the man hit the ground with a satisfying thud, and stayed down.

He and Eraser had showed up at the docks with plenty of time to wait. They’d watched as a small fishing vessel docked, and a slew of people in various outfits all moved to claim the contents. Based on what he could see, most of the people out there had some kind of bird-related imagery, either on their clothes or on their skin. Pulling on Infra-Sight, there weren’t any people on board the ship besides a man with some kind of octopus quirk, but he did see another solitary figure, slowly moving towards the boat in a motion he could only define as creeping.

It had all gone wrong so fast.

He looked like a hero, but not one Null recognized. He cocked his head at Eraser, who looked concerned, slipping his goggles on and preparing to move in off of the roof they had hidden on. After a moment of tracking him, he got closer, revealing a head of blonde hair and a light blue jumpsuit complete with a matching cape.

“That’s High Tide. He’s real low in rankings, but it looks like he has some kind of water quirk? He’s a daylight hero, though, so why is he here?”

Himiko’s analysis came in handy. Eraser slumped, before speaking quietly into his own comms.

“He’s probably covering for somebody’s shift. Problem is, if he had bothered to check the HeroNet, he would know not to come skulking around down here. He’s probably just looking for a free bust, but he’s in over his head. Null, get ready to move.” He nodded to the hero, already slotting Helium into place and getting ready to leap.

—-----------

High Tide, being a relatively new hero and not used to sneaking around in the dark, had been spotted almost immediately. A dozen yakuza thuglings (as Izuku had taken to calling the ‘hired guns’ since they weren’t actual Yakuza and just hireling thugs) had encircled the hero, and he had gotten thoroughly thrashed before he could so much and call on his quirk.

He had leapt before his brain had a chance to form a plan, Eraser following him with a “dammit Problem Child” muttered over the earpiece. Now, the two were wading into a veritable hoard of thuglings, with various quirks and weapons. None of them had fired any guns yet, probably to avoid making too much noise and alerting the authorities.

Now, he and Eraserhead found themselves standing over the form of their fallen comrade (colleague? Acquaintance? Whatever.) fending off quirks and pipes and knives.

“Eraser!” “Yeah!”

With a shout, the hero shot his capture weapon past Null’s head, wrapping around the torso of a woman with a knife that had been about to try and stab him. Meanwhile, Null spun on his heel, turning and snapping a kick high, right into the solar plexus of a different man with two noses. His charge dropped like a rock, while Eraser reeled in the woman and twisted, using the momentum to toss her into three of her approaching friends.

As the thuglings went tumbling, Null caught Eraserhead out of the corner of his eye, exchanging blocks and blows with a blonde man with some kind of monkey quirk, based on the tail. The man was acrobatic as heck, launching kicks at Eraser with speed that belied his size, when-

“Right side!”

Himiko’s voice sent him sprawling on instinct as a machete nearly took his head off. Coming up from the roll, Izuku pulled a knife from his boot, taking in his new opponent. He was tall. Not quite All Might’s size, but taller than Eraserhead at least. He was thin, but lofted his weapon with an ease that was either a lot of practice, or a quirk. Null could see the man’s eyes raking over him, taking in his stance, scanning and appraising him.

“You look a bit young for this, kid. I’ll let ya run now if you wanna live.” he said with a sneer.

He was, of course, lying. Null had seen the look in the man’s eyes in so many others. He’d cut him down the second he turned his back.

What a waste.

Null dove forwards, slashing out with his knife and getting easily deflected. The man’s eyes flickered and moved unnaturally fast, maybe some kind of perception quirk? Enhanced reflexes? Didn’t matter either way.

Sheathing his knife and backing up beneath another swipe, the man advanced on him while he dragged two items out of his belt pouches. Snapping up with another roundhouse kick (blocked) and following with a heavy punch towards the arm holding the machete (dodged), Null hopped back a few steps, purposefully coming in between Eraser and his latest charge, a woman with some kind of snake quirk. Nodding to him, Eraser flared his capture weapon and engaged the man, while Izuku slammed his knuckles into the woman’s nose, sending her reeling with tears in her eyes.

Finally having a moment, he lit the large smoke bomb he’d prepared and tossed it at Eraser’s feet, just as he used his scarf to pull himself to the side and onto a maintenance ladder several feet up.

As smoke flooded the area, Infra-Sight was pulled into place again, the darkness giving way to hues of blue and red as Null picked out his original target in the smoke. Dashing in, he produced his knife again, slashing down in a wide arc that caught the man off guard in the low visibility, earning him a deep cut in his arm. Moaning in pain and clutching the bleeding limb, he backed away into the smoke to get some distance, only for Null to rush forwards and hit his temple with the hilt of his dagger, finally dropping him. Pulling the smoke bomb back to his hand as it died, he pocketed the trash before finding Eraserhead’s thermal outline moving towards him, along with another slung across his shoulders.

Waving his hand and putting his quirks away, he saw the High Tide slung over Eraserhead, groaning softly as he stumbled.

“Head…wa’ happened?” he slurred.

Eraserhead still had his goggles on, but he knew the man rolled his eyes. “You butted yourself into an ongoing operation. Police and EMT are on the way. Stay out of sight for now, okay? You’re too green for this.”

The hero nodded, wincing as it aggravated what Null could recognize as a nasty concussion. Taking a glance over, the man had several deep cuts slowly oozing blood, a split lip, a black eye, a cut on his forehead, and he was preeetty sure feet weren’t supposed to bend that way on their own. Ouch.

BANG!

Eraserhead grunted in pain before diving to the side, taking High Tide with him into a heap behind a stack of crates. Whipping his head up, Null frantically scanned the area for any-

“Two o’clock!”

Not even looking, Null dove as a second gunshot rang through the docks, rolling and popping to his feet and taking in the men in front of him. One tall and wide, wearing a black tank top, worn black pants and boots. The second, shorter and lanky, with a wild expression and unruly blonde hair, holding a pistol and wearing a cheap green suit. Both wearing bird-themed plague masks.

Hojo Yu and Setsuno Toya.

Null narrowed his eyes and took a stance. They’d likely been lying in wait for the perfect chance to catch Eraserhead off-guard. Risking a glance with Infra-Sight, he could see the two heroes’ heat signatures on the other side of the crates, still bright. Injured but not dead, good.

“Kid.” Eraser’s voice sounded in his helmet. “Clean shot on me, but it’s through my leg. I can’t protect High Tide and you at the same time. Police should be here soon, just bail.”

Null tensed. “I don’t need protecting, Eraser. I’m fine. Get High Tide out of here, please.”

“Kid, no-”

“Trust me. Void will tell you if I need help, okay?”

“Null, what are you-” Himiko sounded worried.

“Trust me. Sorry, I gotta focus. Mute audio.” His helmet ceased sending and receiving sound, and Null took in his surroundings. The two men were approaching from different angles, trying to box him in with the crates at his back.

“You got somethin’ of mine, bitch.” Hojo glared, jagged crystals running down his arms, shimmering in the low light of the dock. “I’ll be taking it back, and you to the boss in pieces.”

Setsuno cackled off to Null’s left, waving his pistol around. “THIS is the squirt that sent you packing, Yu? I expected more.”

He narrowed his gaze. He had come up with a rematch plan for Hojo already. He didn’t know Setsuno’s quirk, but it was probably fairly impressive. Although, if he was using a gun, it probably wasn’t combat-oriented.

“More, huh?” The two men ceased their conversation and glared at him. He turned his voice modulator deeper. “Try me.”

Acting as fast as he could, he Pulled on the gun, trying to throw of Setsuno’s aim with a yank so he could get Hojo in between them. He was taken aback as the man slackened his grip, and the gun went sailing right out of his hands and into his own.

Not the plan, but I’ll take it! Leveling the gun at Setsuno, Null took aim low, hoping to hit the man’s legs (he had never practiced with firearms, didn’t really like them) when the gun was yanked back out of his hands faster than he could blink, getting set right back into Setsuno’s-

BANG!

Pain bloomed in his right shoulder as he staggered back. The man’s visible eye crinkled, a cruel smirk lying under the mask as he cackled, waving the gun around again.

“Lookie here! Looks like we have similar quirks!”

Crap! Some kind of telekinesis!

He reached into his belt to pull out another smoke bomb when a heavy impact took him off his feet, sending him sprawling away onto the ground. Already feeling bruises forming, he rolled to the side as a crystal-covered fist hit the ground where he had landed.

BANG!

Another shot, this one missing him although he wasn’t sure by how much. He needed to orient himself. He needed time.

Setsuno leveled the gun at him again as Hojo advanced. He may have to get a bit aggressive with this one. Whipping his knife off of his back (his own, not one of the ‘cute ones’) Null threw the weapon with as much force as he could muster, right at Hojo’s face. The larger man brought his arms up to block on reflex, his quirk deflecting the knife on contact. But that wasn’t his goal.

He darted around the larger man as fast as he could, narrowing in on Setsuno, who aimed at him and pulled the trigger, only to pause as nothing happened. Cranking on Pull and holding the trigger on the gun for just a moment, Null drew the knife out of his right boot, slashing wide and catching several of the man’s fingers that held his pistol. With a shriek of pain and a splash of blood, the firearm clattered to the ground, but he further ignored it as he slammed his right hand into Setsuno’s forehead.

TAKE.

Red light flooded the dock as he ripped the man’s quirk from him, dropping him like a sack of meat. Hearing footsteps, he spun as Hojo bared down on him, quirk overflowing his skin with crystal shards. He smiled to himself. Time for some payback.

The arm came down, and Izuku pulled on a quirk.

Heavy.

An arm slammed into his side like before. Crystals dug into his padding but only caused mild discomfort. Null didn’t move an inch as the crystals cracked and shattered, leaving him with scratches and cuts galore, but no major damage. The larger man’s eyes widened as he took a step back.

Heavy made his body twice as heavy at baseline. He could also increase his weight temporarily at the cost of stamina. At the moment before impact, he’d cranked this quirk up to his maximum. He had no idea how heavy he was, but the cracked concrete beneath his feet and the screaming of his bones and muscles were good indications of why Hojo’s blow didn’t so much as budge him.

Releasing the quirk and suppressing a sigh of relief, he snapped up his hand in an attempt to take the other man’s quirk-

“STOP! NOBODY MOVE!”

Bright lights flooded the docks as several police officers poured from their cars, pointing guns at the Yakuza thugs as well as Null himself. He cut an imposing figure in the dark, but in the light even he admitted he looked pretty sketchy. Still, this wasn’t good.

Turning his voice modulator down to something more normal, he put his hands up and tried to talk normally.

“Hey, guys! No worries, I was just finishing up catching these two! No need to thank-”

“Get down on the ground, villain! Or we will shoot!”

He blanched, taking a step forward. “But I’m not-” the sound of several guns clicking shut his mouth. He needed a distraction and fast. Thinking hard, he slotted Helium and Pull, before twitching his fingers ever-so-slightly.

A discarded metal pipe clattered against the ground, rolling towards him, and every cop in the area snapped their gaze (and most of their weapons) to it. In that moment, Null shot off like a rocket, trying to ignore the sounds of yelling and gunfire behind him as he Pulled his thrown knife to his hand and hurled himself behind the nearest building. His heart pounded in his ears (and his shoulder…and arm…and ribs) as he used the weapon to quickly scale the building in his usual way, throwing himself from roof to roof until he felt that he had gotten away. As he attempted to control his breathing, his HUD lit up.

[Incoming Call: Knife-Chan <3]

Well. She was probably mad.

Despite a harsh childhood and plenty of time on the streets, Yu found himself shaking as he delivered his report. He’d had to leave Toya behind, but he’d managed to escape in the confusion, taking a handful of product with him, not that it amounted to much. This could, and probably would, set them back by several months. At this point, the Yakuza weren’t exactly strapped for cash, but they were losing customers left and right with the recent busts.

Not to mention the boss’...other side projects were taking up a lot of resources on their own, anyways.

Hence the shaking. The boss could be…quick to lash out when things went awry.

Golden eyes settled on him, narrowed. Yu swallowed, throat dry.

“Is that all you have to report?” Yu simply nodded in response. He knew better than to speak right now. “I see.”

Yu died.

He returned to life an instant later, feeling wrong. The feeling would fade with time (or he had just gotten used to it by now, maybe). Dismissed, he left the room to think on his failure, and maybe take a scalding-hot shower.

Behind him, on a lavish green couch, Chisaki Kai studied a grainy picture, captured on a cell phone. A dark silhouette. A red light.

A black helmet.

“Null, huh? I wonder who you are.”

Chapter Text

Today was the day.

It had taken time. Too much time, too much effort, too much political bullcrap, but today was the day.

Toshinori was going to give his successor the support she deserved. Unfortunately, that required him being a bit…underhanded.

Young Mina was a good liar, that he knew, but he was the number one hero for a reason. Villains had tried to bluff him thousands of times over the course of his career, and he himself had developed a decent poker face after receiving his injury at the hands of All for One.

Regardless, Mina’s insistence in her living situation being ‘just fine’ and ‘the commute never bothering her’ and ‘oh I was staying at a friend’s house’ all fell on relatively deaf ears. Today was the last day he’d hear those excuses.

Being All Might didn’t exactly lend to stealth, but Yagi Toshinori was pretty unnoticeable, especially around massive piles of trash. His successor was doing well with her training, exceptional even. Trash was disappearing across the beach more and more each week, and her control over her natural quirk (Acid sounded boring on paper, but she was so creative with it!) was already top-notch for her age, in his opinion (and in Nedzu’s opinion, who he asked because he didn’t have a quirk at her age).

Even so, he wound his way through the various piles of refuse and scrap, searching and listening. He’d never been able to find out where Young Mina was staying, but he knew it wasn’t anywhere good. The reason he had whittled his guesses down to the very beach they trained on was two-fold.

First, no matter how early he showed up for their training, she always seemed to get there just before him.

Second, regardless of his instruction, she always avoided cleaning one specific area, saying that ‘she wanted to save it for last’ and not giving much of an explanation as to why.

It wasn’t damning, but it was suspicious enough to warrant a closer look. As he moved deeper in, watching his step to not make any noise, he found what he was looking for.

His successor, the carrier of his legacy, this heroic young girl that he already saw as a daughter was fast asleep in the backseat of an abandoned car, hidden between three junk piles.

Naomosa had offered to send a social worker, or come himself, but Toshinori had wanted to be the one. It was his offer that started this, after all, so it would be his offer that finished it.

He trudged through the sand towards her, no longer masking his footfalls. Once he was a few feet away from the door (dear god it doesn’t even have any windows), he stumbled back as the door snapped open, the girl rolling to her feet in a pink blur and holding her hands out towards him.

“Already tol’ ya I’m not gon’ share.” she slurred, still mostly asleep. “Leave ma’ food alone, you punk.” Maybe she wasn’t as much of a morning person as she claimed to be, then.

He snorted. He couldn’t help it, it was a pretty funny sight, seeing his successor, bright pink and half-asleep, standing in the sand at 3 in the morning, wearing long-faded pajamas with his face on them.

Unfortunately, the tired expression on her face melted at that, as she rubbed her eyes and looked at him. Pink skin paled, and she spoke, voice quivering dangerously.

“Toshi-sensei?”

“Hey kid.” He tried for a comforting grin, but most people said he looked like a creepy jack-o-lantern.

“Wha-? I, training isn’t-”

“No training today.” He cut her off, not unkindly.

She glanced around, confused. “But why would you- oh.” She glanced down at herself, then at the car, then back to him. She had put the pieces together quickly.

Sadly, she started to panic, breath growing quicker and tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t- wait, this isn’t- I’m not, Toshi wait I-”

And didn’t that just break his heart? The girl was stammering, starting to cry, looking scared and embarrassed and ashamed. It brought back unpleasant memories (you’re not quirkless anymore Toshi this isn’t about you).

He strode forward, reaching a hand out. She flinched hard, like she expected to be hit, but Toshinori just gently set his hand onto her shoulder. Firm and grounding, but light enough for her to pull away if she wanted space. To his relief, she leaned into contact, slightly. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak. After a minute of sniffling, she did.

“How did you know?”

He could think of a million ways to answer that question, but decided not to. He spoke in a soft, firm voice, leaving no room for doubts.

“Mina, I arrested your parents last week.”

Her entire body tensed, jaw going slack, wide golden eyes glowing in the dark.

“W-what?” She sounded so small, so young, asking that question. If Nana were alive, she would’ve dropped the Ashidos from the stratosphere and swept this girl up the first time they met.

“You showed classic signs of abuse. I called in a wellness check with a close friend of mine, who happens to work for the police here. What we found was…abhorrent.”

To his distress, she shook her head. “But it’s…always how things work? They didn’t want me, so I left. It’s better for everyone. Isn’t that normal?”

He resisted the urge to punch someone, barely. “I’ve been a hero for three decades now, Young Mina. That is not normal. No child should be treated like that, no matter their quirk, or lack thereof, or for any other reason.” he spoke louder now, closer to All Might. He leaned in closer, putting his other hand on her opposite shoulder.

“I can help you now, will help you now. You’re my successor, but more than that, you’re a child who needs and deserves to be saved.” He kept his eyes locked with hers, regardless of the tears building. “I am here, to help. All you need to do is accept, Young Mina.”

The dam broke, and Mina broke down in sobs, throwing her arms around his wire-thin frame and squeezing. Frantic mutterings of “I’m so hungry all the time” and “I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe” and all manner of other horrible things spilled from her lips and made his heart hurt. The pain in Toshinori’s chest could easily be mistaken for a second gaping hole in his torso, but deep beneath it, relief. That simple, unique relief when he realized he had finally reached someone who needed to be saved. Even deeper, that it meant he had reached his successor in a way he feared he’d never be able to the way Nana did him.

After she finally calmed down a bit, still sniffling, she looked at him and asked,

“So what happens now?”

Now Toshinori had a real reason to smile. “Well, typically in this kind of situation you’d go into the foster system or get adopted by a willing family, but that’s not the case for you.”

His guess was right on the money, as Mina’s look of trepidation was quickly replaced by curiosity. “What do you mean? Where…where am I gonna stay?” Stepping away, she hugged her arms around herself.

Toshinori grinned. “Well, with me, obviously!”

That gobsmacked look was back. “What?!” He flinched at the volume, but chuckled anyways, producing a manilla folder from the confines of his thick jacket.

“Yep! Got all the paperwork right here! Some heroes get their emergency foster licenses for delicate situations. I just finished getting approved for mine yesterday!” It took a bit of legwork on Nedzu’s part to get it expedited, not to mention Recovery Girl clearing him after the promise of more regular checkups for his…health issues. It was worth it.

“I…you…” the girl looked overwhelmed; he could relate. “You want me to live with you? You…you want me?”

He was going to find a way to bring Nana back from the grave and sick her on this girl’s parents. He would sick All for One on them if he could have managed it.

Anger aside, he smiled. “You get a choice here, Young Mina. If not me, then I’ll help you find someone you fit with. But, if you’re willing to put up with an old man like me, I’d love to have you.”

Another hug at top speed jostled his injury painfully. He just couldn’t bring himself to mind, though.

—------------------------------

It only took the two of them a matter of seconds to gather Mina’s things from the beach. Her backpack, stuffed to the brim, and a duffle bag she’d found in the trash held the rest. She’d stopped in a public washroom to change out of her pajamas, and before she knew it Toshi-sensei had powered up and whisked them away to another part of town she hadn’t been to yet.

The building was nice. Very nice, even. It was upwards of fifteen, twenty stories maybe? It looked like it had been painted recently, and she spotted a few potted plants across some of the balconies.

A nudge to her side brought her out of her reverie, Toshi-sensei nodding towards the side of the building. “Come on, let’s get you inside and we can get some more sleep.”

She was still…not totally sure how to feel. She knew, objectively, that her parents were in the wrong. They went to jail (apparently) for what they did, so it HAD to be wrong! It was just…odd, being taken in by her mentor like this. They’d spent plenty of time together over the last few months, so it wasn’t awkward or anything, it was just…new? Overwhelming.

Anything was better than sleeping in that damn car, though.

They entered the building through a well-concealed side door (‘privacy is important in my line of work!’) that led right to an elevator. Toshi-sensei held what looked like a hotel key card to the array of floor buttons, and Mina stumbled slightly as the elevator took off a bit faster than she’d been expecting, still blinking away sleep as they ascended to the top level.

“The elevator is keyed to my card specifically, since I’m the only resident on the top floor. I’ll have a card made up for you tomorrow, just be sure not to lose it.” Mina nodded. How…how much money did he have?

With a soft ding, the doors opened to reveal what had to be the nicest apartment in Japan. Kicking her shoes off next to her mentor’s near the doors, which slid shut behind them, Mina took in the wide open space. The apartment was an open floor plan, with hardwood floors and tall, vaulted ceilings. The walls had what looked like a new coat of white paint, and a few rugs were scattered around to divide the different spaces. Ahead, floor-to-ceiling windows made up most of one wall, covered in shades (she bet the view was spectacular). Near it, a living area was arranged with a large sectional couch and several comfy-looking chairs, all a dark red color. A massive television was mounted on the wall opposite the couch, just above what looked like a fireplace. To her right, a large kitchen area sat with a breakfast counter semi-separating it from the living room, and to her left was a hallway she assumed lead to more rooms.

Not noticing she had completely stopped moving, Toshi-sensei had hung up his coat and hefted her bags into his arms while speaking. “It’s not the largest or tallest building in the city, but it’s close to UA and has pretty much every modern convenience you can think of. Last room on the left is mine, and next to it is a spare room I use as an office. Across from the office is the laundry, and the first door on the right is your room.”

Mina continued to blink until her mentor finally looked back at her. “You okay, kid?”

“I’m, uh…”

“Overwhelmed?” he asked, smiling sympathetically. She nodded.

“Tell you what. It’s still far too early. There are some blank sheets already on the bed in there, why don’t you get some more sleep, and we can work on getting you some new things later.”

She went to nod, but paused as she thought about that. “No, that’s okay, sensei. I already have enough stuff. I don’t wanna waste your money or anything.”

Toshi shot her a look of disappointment. “Mina, kid. Outside of the appliances and stuff, I tend to live pretty frugally. Heck, I usually just donate my paychecks to charity. It’s not even a drop in the bucket, so don’t worry about it!”

“I…what do-oh!” she flushed, feeling really stupid. He looked at her, confused for a moment, before smirking.

“Did you forget I was the number one hero, Young Mina?”

“No!”

“HAH! You totally did! Go get some sleep, we’ll talk later.”

This woman was different than the others.

She’d been there much longer than him, but was always confined to one room. One of her arms was usually bound in some kind of metal brace he’d never learn the purpose of. Whoever she was, they didn’t like her.

Taking her quirk had been painful. That was what today’s tests were on, varying speed and intensity. Most people passed out, but this woman hadn’t so much as reacted beyond frowning. He knew it hurt though.

“You’re nothing but a tool to them, you know.” She spoke in a dull, mostly monotone voice, but Mikumo could hear the sadness in it. “They’ll use you until you dry up, or break, and then they’ll be done with you.”

“Quiet! Deleter, don’t mind her, she’s just a rogue asset. A villain. Ignore her and finish the test.”

Swallowing bile, he put his hand to her head again, green eyes meeting a deep purple. Even as he ripped her quirk from her body for the tenth time that day, she didn’t waver. Instead, she leaned in towards him, and spoke in a whispered voice only he could hear at this distance.

“Don’t let them turn you into me. Be better. Please.”

Izuku was overworked, he could tell.

He had emerged from the Yakuza bust only mildly injured, somehow. His newly padded vest had stopped the bullet from doing much more than severe bruising, and his other injuries were mostly cuts, bruises, and a sprained wrist. Some bandages and a ton of pain meds had fixed him up before long.

Eraserhead contacted him the next day, berating him for rushing in alone instead of running, but he wasn’t having it. Hojo had escaped in the chaos of his desperate move, but Setsuno was captured! It had been a week of processing and interrogating, but Eraser said he was confident they could get some good info out of him. They’d already gotten confirmation on the Yakuza’s new hire strategy, and it seemed like rumors of the Shie Hassaikai changing leaders were right, though he wouldn’t tell them who the new boss was.

Apparently, Null’s name had to be attached to the arrest, due to the fact that everyone saw him, and also due to the fact that Setsuno was livid at the loss of his quirk. Oops. Through Eraserhead, he learned that the man’s quirk was called Larceny, and allowed him to telekinetically snatch anything that another person was holding or wearing. It had a pretty limited range, but it seemed like quite the potent quirk. It felt odd compared to other quirks as well.

Usually, he could place a ‘feeling’ to a quirk, allowing him to more easily call it up and separate it from his others. ‘Feeling’ may not be the most accurate term for it, but he wasn’t sure if there was really a word to describe the way his natural quirk differentiated between what he’d taken.

Either way, the best word to describe Setsuno’s quirk was…yellow? Yeah, it felt yellow. It made sense in his head at least. Interestingly, the quirk didn’t work on most things. He’d tried grabbing things across the room, his shoes, even some trash, but nothing. Did the quirk only work if another person was holding what he wanted to grab? How did it know the difference? It would pair amazingly with Pull, which tended to be his go-to, which was nice. Seeing as he couldn’t exactly practice with anyone, he’d have to settle on some independent practice, and ripping stuff out of drug dealers’ hands on the side.

But he was off topic. After getting thoroughly yelled at by Himiko for muting her during the fight, she’d bopped him on the head and helped him sharpen his knives and go over his various injuries. He’d stayed in bed the rest of the night and most of the following day, and only then did he realize just how tired he was. He’d been running himself ragged on extra patrols and meetups with Eraserhead whenever possible. At home, he’d been speeding through school at record pace and trying to fortify the apartment against more home invaders. Healing was hard on the body too, and he’d been getting injured a lot lately. Maybe his usual 4-6 hours of sleep a night wasn’t enough?

After a few more increasingly hard patrols, he had come home one night practically dead on his feet after stopping a mugging, and Himiko had put her foot down, saying he wasn’t allowed to patrol for the rest of the week. Normally he’d just ignore her, but she tended to start throwing knives when he tried to sneak out. She missed, but he could tell she did so on purpose. He decided not to chance it.

This led to tonight. After a nice afternoon nap, Himiko had declared she had finally finished her first year of middle school classes and was already starting on her second. At this rate, she’d be caught up in no time! She had called for a celebration, and Izuku certainly didn’t have the heart to refuse her. Despite her struggles, she had been working extremely hard, and definitely deserved a reward. He had gotten one shoe on, prepared to go out and get them something, but she’d dragged him back inside, declaring that she already had an eye on something, and that he was supposed to take it easy anyways.

She slipped out the window and into the night, leaving him curious (and concerned) over what she had in mind, while the rest of him was contemplative and…a bit bored, honestly.

This kept happening, and it was really starting to annoy him. It felt like every time he went out as Null and did anything big, he came home with a slew of injuries and had to bedrest until he went stir crazy. Was he getting weaker? Sloppier? Doubtful, his fighting style was brutal and efficient, and his equipment was fine.

Were the villains getting stronger? He supposed he had been going after more high-profile people than he usually did. Muggers and dealers were easy- you catch them off guard and knock them out before they became a problem. His and Eraser’s tussle with the Yakuza thuglings was closer to a scene from some kind of action-heist movie. Not to mention the issue of guns, which regular thugs pretty much never had.

The cause, he supposed, was unimportant. It didn’t change the fact that while he had won his previous encounters, he still kept getting his butt kicked. So how did he change that?

The obvious answer was to get stronger or get some backup, but he had done both of those things. He sparred with Himiko semi-frequently, and his knife skills almost rivaled her own now. He had started meeting up with Eraserhead more often, and having someone at his back on busts was a godsend he didn’t know he’d been missing. Truthfully, the number of injuries he had received as of late would have been much, much worse without their help (not that he’d ever tell them).

The only remaining solution, then, was obvious. He needed to train his quirks more. He hadn’t pushed his natural quirk much at all; it still took time and effort to switch between quirks, and using more at once was still fairly painful.

His individual quirks were also being neglected. He used Pull all the time, and Helium was a passive effect, but what about the others? Truth be told, he sucked with Despot, and he barely used Heavy at all, despite how useful it was in a fight when applied correctly. Magma Spit was a bit of an oddball, but aim was a thing he could work on. Other than that…most of his quirks never even saw the light of day.

His relationships with both his own quirk and his stolen ones were still…complicated. Truth be told, he didn’t like his quirk much, or at all, but it was the one he had. Ironic.

Maybe he should practice more with his lesser-used quirks, and then work on his natural quirk? That seemed reasonable. No time like the present, he supposed. Himiko would probably be gone for a while, and he was pretty bored. Where do I start first…the basics, maybe?

Slotting Pull and Helium into place, he went through a few basic motions, feeling how light his body was, basically only held down by his clothes, while pulling random things to his hands, trying to get a good feel on his current maximum range.

When it came to emitter quirks, there tended to be two types when it came to range. The first was a ‘hard range’. The quirk effects extended a certain distance and that was it. It was usually harder to improve that distance without some real fundamental understanding of quirk physics, or support gear. Pull fell into category two: ‘tapering range’. The quirk would simply lose effectiveness after a certain distance, but would taper off in power instead of cutting off immediately. Luckily, increasing that distance was just a matter of practice and effort. He’d already improved Pull quite a bit since acquiring it, and figured it could be improved further if he tried.

Using two quirks in tandem tended to cause a slight pressure to build in his head, but it had decreased over the years. He figured it was his body adapting to the extra quirks in his brain, or something. Maybe he could make it a habit to always have 2 quirks slotted? If he was going to try and use his quirks more in combat, he needed to improve his stamina.

There was a problem with that, though. Most of his quirks were completely unusable as Null. Most of his quirks would destroy his vigilante outfit, which was not protected against, say, sudden limb growth or full-body transformations. The quirks he got from his blog-people were usually pretty damaging or inconvenient to the user, and the rest were a bit too…showy. The whole point was that nobody knew what his quirk was. If Null, a vigilante that could erase quirks, suddenly started spewing lava from his mouth, people would begin to ask questions that he was in no way ready to answer.

Quirks like Pull, Heavy, and Helium were invisible to the naked eye, and could be passed off as either one telekinesis quirk or some hidden support gear. Larceny and Despot would fit snugly in that category too, but he’d have to be careful with them. Their original owners were both kind of creeps too…

But one thing at a time. For now, he’d practice Pull while having other quirks running ‘in the background’ to hopefully increase his stamina. The more flashy stuff could come later. Maybe he could find a warehouse somewhere to test some of his more volatile powers.

Leaving Pull and Helium in place, he pulled on Larceny as well, feeling the pressure in his head become uncomfortable with the added mental load. He’d keep this up as long as possible, and try to use his quirks in tandem.

He hopped up onto a stool he usually kept his Null helmet on, balancing on one foot. While he normally had really good balance, the combination of a building headache and near-zero bodyweight made the simple exercise a struggle. With Pull, he decided to play an old game he’d invented when he was younger, lovingly called ‘Quirk Juggling’.

Basically, he’d pull an object towards himself as fast as he could, dodging out of the way at the last minute. When the object went sailing past him, he’d pull on it again, sending it the opposite direction, rinse and repeat. It trained his reflexes, his range and speed with Pull, and would help his stamina. It was sort of like playing catch with himself (which was great for the long, long period of time when he didn’t have any friends!)

His first attempt failed miserably. He had tossed an empty soda bottle across the room, and had slipped and fallen as soon as he’d tried to use Pull to send it back. Luckily, weighing almost nothing really lightened the impact, but he still felt like an idiot.

Setting up again, this time he started with the bottle already on the ground, pulling the plastic towards him at speed. He tilted his head to the side to dodge, but immediately started to wobble. On instinct, he tried to lean his weight the other way, but over-corrected, smacking himself in the face with the plastic projectile.

The next run, he managed to dodge the bottle on its first trajectory towards him, but when he turned his head to pull it back, the pressure in his head caused his aim to falter. Instead of pulling the bottle, he’d picked up one of the knives Himiko had left in her sleeping area. He’d had to abandon the stool entirely to avoid getting impaled by his own game.

He chucked the bottle against the wall, feeling frustrated, but took a few deep breaths. Getting mad wouldn’t make this any easier. It was the same way when he had first started training. The initial lack of progress was infuriating, but over time it would become a distant memory. Steeling himself, he located the bottle and climbed back onto his stool. This time, he took a moment to breathe, closing his eyes and centering himself. He felt his quirks, all of them, lowly humming away in his chest, let the pressure in his head even out in his imagination, turning from a hot-headed migraine to a dull ache. He lifted his foot and reached out a hand, curling his fingers slightly in the same way his mother used to when levitating dishes around the kitchen.

The bottle shot off the ground at his mental command, hurling towards his outstretched hand. Spinning on his toes, he moved to the side and let it sail pass. Immediately, a bout of minor dizziness hit him from stressing his natural quirk, but he pushed through and focused as best he could, balancing himself despite his lack of weight. As the bottle fell towards the floor, he pulled on it again, reversing its momentum. The second pull was wobbly, not enough force, so Izuku just caught it in his off hand, settling back onto the stool and sighing. Progress was progress.

He quickly lost track of time, but attempt after attempt slowly yielded improvement, and before he knew it he was practically spinning in place on one foot, pulling the now half-full water bottle around the room in a dance that almost looked like the orbit of a planet around the sun.

The pressure in his head hadn’t gone away, but Izuku couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from his throat. Something about using his quirks like this, especially his mother’s, filled him with a sense of satisfaction he figured came from his natural quirk, or maybe he was just like this, it was hard to tell.

He spun, his dance continuing, the bottle swirling around the apartment with increased speed. He could feel his quirks humming, almost swirling together in his chest-

“Izu?”

The bottle slammed into a wall, spraying water across the ground as he toppled off of his stool. His quirks slipped from his grasp, the fog in his head finally clearing as he took in the fact that he’d lost track of time.

Himiko was standing just inside the window, holding a heavy takeout bag and staring at him, eyes wide.

“Shit.”

Chapter Text

“Shit.”

Izuku and Himiko stared at one another for a good thirty seconds, not saying a word. He was such an idiot! How could he lose track of time like that? How could he dare to have fun, to enjoy himself, with stolen pieces of people?

“Izu? What the heck was that?” Himiko set her bags down on the ground thoughtlessly, moving over to the now-spilled bottle laying on the floor. Picking it up, she ran her hands across the surface, as if looking for strings or something to deny the fact that she’d just walked in and saw him using a quirk he shouldn’t have.

It was over. All his work as Null was ruined. He’d have to…what? Flee the country? They would be coming for him any minute now. They had eyes everywhere they’d find out in no time! He was so STUPID!

How would he leave? Flying was out, too much of a paper trail. He could…he could take a boat! He could even swim if he needed to! He was pretty sure he had a quirk for that lying around somewhere-

“Izuku!” Two hands clamped down on his shoulder, making him jump and back away on instinct. He tried to ignore the hurt look on Himiko’s face and failed.

“Izuku, what was that? I came home and you were dancing on a stool, which was weird, and a haunted bottle was flying around the room!” she gasped. “Are you a poltergeist?! Oh god did I actually kill you the night we met? Are you haunting me?!”

For one shameful moment, he considered lying to her. He could say he was practicing a magic trick, or some new equipment, or anything. He could jump out the window and swim to Hawaii. But…he didn’t want to.

Himiko was his friend. His first friend in years, maybe his first real friend ever. He had trusted her with Null so…so easily.

But this was different. This was his life at risk here, in more ways than one. Did he trust her with this?

One look into golden eyes cemented his answer.

“No, Himiko, I’m not a ghost.” he tried to smile, but he felt like he might vomit if he did. It came out more as a painful grimace. “It’s…I was practicing my quirk.”

Himiko blinked, confused. “Your quirk? Oh! But doesn’t your quirk just turn off other peoples’? That’s how you got rid of mine, right? Can it do other stuff too?” Her eyes still held some confusion, but she seemed…interested. Curious, even.

That would change. It always did.

Again, intrusive thoughts screamed at him to lie to her, but he really, really didn’t want to.

“I, uh…ahem.” he coughed, trying to figure out what to say. “I may have lied to you about my quirk. I’m sorry.”

A flash of hurt quickly gave way to concern. “Um, okay. Why?”

Izuku swallowed thickly. “I’ll tell you, but…can you promise? Not to tell anyone? I…it’s really important.” He was sweating, heart thumping painfully against his ribs.

Himiko, still confused, nodded. “Sure, I promise.” She looked him up and down, before her eyes widened.

“Izuku! Are you scared I’ll judge you for your quirk?! You know what my quirk is! You know I’d never do that!”

While he knew that objectively, it was still a massive relief to hear her say it. “It’s…not just that, but thanks, Himi-chan.” The girl beamed at the return of her nickname. “You can’t tell anyone, because my quirk is…it’s really powerful. If…certain people caught wind of it, they’d want me to use it for them, and…it would end really, really badly for everyone involved.” And probably in my death, he left out.

“Okaaay, I kinda get that, I guess. So what is it then?” Himiko was following along, at least, though she looked like she’d be asking more about that later.

Swallowing some more vomit and slightly shaking, Izuku looked down at his feet, speaking in a resigned voice.

“My quirk doesn’t turn peoples’ quirks off. I take them. I can use them for myself or give them back, but basically I steal them.” he closed his eyes, waiting for the disgust, the fear, maybe a knife-

“That’s so cute!” he looked up, to see Himiko smiling, stars in her eyes….what? “You can take quirks from bad guys?! Izu why didn’t you tell me?!”

Deep, deep down, he’d been hoping she’d have some kind of positive reaction. Himiko was a pretty easy-going person, but this was way outside of his expectations.

“What?! Cute?!”

She lurched forwards, grabbing his hands in between hers. “Oh, oh! What kinds of quirks do you have? How many? Oh, oh! Do you have one that…can…wait…” Izuku felt a cold pit in his stomach as a look of utter fear took over his friend’s face. She trailed off, before continuing in a shaky, quiet voice.

“Izuku…you…you took my quirk.”

He nodded. “I…it was hurting you, H-Himi-chan. I…I’ll give it back if you really-” shaking hands gripped his arms hard enough to bruise as she brought his face closer to hers, eyes wild with panic.

“Izuku! Get rid of it! Get rid of it NOW! You have to get rid of it, it’ll hurt you Izuku, PLEASE!” she was shaking him now, tears quickly building.

Oh. he thought. I never thought of how she’d react to that.

Grabbing her hands and loosening her grip, Izuku shushed her. “Himiko, wait! I’m fine, promise!” She started to talk again, but he cut her off. “When I’m not, er, using a quirk, it just kinda…sits in my body, asleep? Transform still feels super volatile, so I haven’t used it yet.”

At that, the girl slumped over, breathing out a long sigh. “Thank god. You should’ve lead with that!” he chuckled, nervously. “So, they just kinda hang out until you want to use them? Wait, how many do you have?”

Izuku scratched his head. “I’ve, uh, never actually counted them.” he ran a mental hand across the bundles of energy in his chest, feeling a bit of pride at his tiny dragon’s hoard. “A little over a dozen, I think?”

Himiko’s eyes bugged out. “Izuku, what?! Other than mine, did you get them all from villains and thugs? What do they do?!”

Izuku shrugged. “I’m, uh, surprised you’re taking this so well. Usually people react to this kind of thing with a bit more…trepidation? Fear?” And that was his fake quirk, forget about the real one. He was a bit stumped, to be honest.

Himiko huffed. “Izu! We’re friends, remember! Knife Buddies! I told you I would never judge you for your quirk, and I meant it! I mean, you use it to help people don’t you? It’s not like you’re just nabbing quirks from everyone you run into on the streets!”

Izuku felt tears stinging his eyes. “Th-thanks, Himi. I…you don’t know how much this means to me. I’ve never even told someone before.” Himiko brought him into a warm hug, letting them both work through the emotions of the last five minutes.

Himiko’s eyes darted to the side a moment, and she smiled, all teeth. “C’mon, let’s eat! I can grill you for deets before the food gets cold. I got our favorites!~” she crawled over to the discarded take out bags. Looking at the logo, Izuku’s stomach growled involuntarily when he realized it was from a place a few miles away with the best Katsudon (besides his mother’s).

Smiling, Izuku crawled up to the little table they’d gotten a few weeks back. He still felt some trepidation, but the awe in Himiko’s face when he used Pull to bring over their silverware and some drinks eased it somewhat.

“Ugh, I feel so stupid now!” Himiko whined.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

Himiko pointed at him accusingly. “What I mean is that you’re always doing that kind of weird stuff when you fight! You’re super sneaky about it, but it’s kinda hard to miss when I’m watching the camera literally on your head. Those are some of your different quirks, right?”

Izuku blanched. Maybe he wasn’t being quite as sneaky as he thought. “Uh…yeah. It is.”

“I just figured you had some wire hidden in your costume or something. This is way cooler!”

Izuku chuckled, the thick, nervous tar in his chest loosening a little. As they portioned out the food (Himiko got cold soba, which seemed like an odd choice but Izuku wasn’t here to judge) Izuku chose to finally answer some of her other questions.

“So, I usually don’t take them from villains, actually.” At her odd look, he corrected himself. “I usually give them back after we fight, but sometimes I don’t have a chance to. Actually, a good number of my quirks came from my blog.”

She blinked. “Your…blog? Oh! The quirk one!” she hadn’t made an account yet, but she enjoyed watching Izuku respond to comments while he was sitting at home, even getting in a few debates on his behalf once or twice.

“Yeah.” He nodded, tasting a piece of pork and smiling at the flavor. “There’s a feature for people to request emergency, in-person quirk help. If the quirk in question isn’t ‘trainable’, per say, and is causing the user too many issues, I…’call in an associate with an erasure quirk’.”

“So…” Himiko slurped her noodles before pointing her chopsticks at him. “You call in yourself, but in a costume, and you take their crappy quirks so they don’t like, die from them?”

He snorted, but nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. The rest I’ve taken from various villains and criminals over the years and whoever they wanted to experiment on. There’s one that’s special though.”

“Oh? Which one?”

He pulled a roll of paper towels from across the room, handing his friend one so that she could wipe the sauce off of her face. “This one. It’s called Pull. It was originally called Attraction of Small Objects, but that was too wordy for me. It’s…it was my mom’s.”

Himiko picked up on his declining mood. “Seems pretty handy. What…what happened to her? Is that why you live here?” she gestured around his little self-made paradise.

He nodded. “She…died when I was little. Eight, maybe? I’m not sure. Our apartment building collapsed, but she protected me.” He sniffed a little, trying to drown his feelings in the broth of his meal. “She, uh, wanted me to have it, if anything ever happened to her.”

Himiko looked conflicted. “I’m sorry about your mom, Izu. I’m sure she was awesome.”

“Thanks, Himi. She was a bit of a stress magnet, but she was pretty awesome.” She still looked conflicted, like she wasn’t sure how to ask something. “What is it?”

“This, uh, this is kind of a dick question, you don’t have to answer it. But can you take quirks from dead people then?”

He got a little sad at that, but it was a fair question. “It’s alright. I won’t say I’m over it, but it was a long time ago. To answer your question, it’s complicated. I haven’t exactly gotten to try it much, but I think in most cases I probably could, as long as it hasn’t been very long.” Himiko nodded along, accepting his answer. Truthfully, it was kind of like an organ transplant, the odds of success rapidly decreasing with time. They made him test it.

Himiko shook her head, taking another bite of food. “Okay, enough depressing stuff! What else can you do?”

Izuku couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. Talking about his quirks was sort of an odd feeling, a freedom he’d never had before.

“How about this one?” He poured some of his water into his now empty bowl, filling it, before pulling on Magma Spit and hucking some molten rock. It steamed and hissed before cooling into rough obsidian.

Himiko’s eyes shot wide. “What the fuck?! Was that lava?!”

He chuckled. “It was. Got that from a Yakuza mercenary a while back. Here’s another one.” raising his hand, he pulled on Larceny. Himiko’s chopsticks disappeared faster than they could blink, settling into his grip. She looked back and forth, searching, before narrowing in on his hand.

“This one’s called Larceny. Got it from that Setsuno guy Eraserhead and I were after. The blonde?”

Himiko nodded. “Yeah I remember him! That whole night makes a lot more sense now. Does it only work on stuff people are holding?”

“Apparently not.” Izuku shook his head. “Eraserhead said his quirk can affect anything a person is holding or wearing.”

A beat of silence. “Kya!~ Izuku, you perv! Are you gonna use that quirk to rip peoples’ clothes off?!” Himiko yelled, covering herself but giggling all the while.

His face erupted neon-red. “HIMIKO! NO!” The girl startled cackling, falling over and nearly sending her bowl of soba to the floor. It didn’t take long for him to join her.

Once dinner was done and put away, she spent the rest of the night grilling him on his different quirks, making him show off the ones that wouldn’t kill either of them or break the apartment.

It was fun, in a weird, very-them way. It was freeing. It was the lightest he’d felt in a long time, since before his mom died.

Shouta scrolled through his email, only half paying attention as he considered his next mission.

With the expulsion of his class (and re-enrollment of half of them) he’d found himself with a bit more extra time for hero work. The recent capture of one Setsuno Toya had given him plenty of leads into the Yakuza’s dealings, and some of Null’s initial hunches were proving…unfortunately correct.

So now, on top of a Yakuza gang sub-contracting (did criminals sub-contract?) a smaller gang to do their dirty work and sully paper trails, now they had a full-blown trafficking ring on their hands.

He’d dealt with this kind of thing a few times before, and it was never pretty. Switching to his messaging app, he decided to get the ball rolling early.

[

You: Problem Child

Problem Child: Hi Eraser!

Problem Child: What’s up?

You: Meet tomorrow, usual time and place

Problem Child: Kk. Got a lead?

You: Yes

Problem Child: Are

Problem Child: Are you gunna tell me what it’s about? Like, specifically?

You: I’ll explain tomorrow.

Problem Child: -_-

Problem Child: Because explaining twice is ‘illogical’ and ‘a waste of time’?

You: Yes

You: If only my students understood that

Problem Child: Just like using actual punctuation in your texts is a waste of time?

You: Yes

]

Smirking, he flipped back to his emails and continued to scroll. The Commission didn’t send him many requests, but his boss sure as hell did. Two new requests to teach an extra-credit class, a request to cover Kan’s class next Tuesday, and one actual mission helping transport a prisoner to Tartarus. Sometimes, he hated how useful his quirk was in modern society.

“Still workin’, Sho? C’mon, it’s movie night!”

Glancing up, Hizashi had just sauntered into the living room, wearing a ‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’ shirt and comfortable black sweatpants. He flopped down onto the couch next to him, yawning and stretching an arm around his shoulders like some teenager on their first date.

“How’s the Big Case going? Any luck with Null?”

Given the sensitivity of both cases, he tried to speak in vague terms, and Hizashi respected that, keeping his own cases mostly to himself. Even so, given the fact that they were both heroes, he could divulge a little.

“The case is progressing nicely, actually.” he started. “Got a few good leads.”

“And Null? How’s the little listener doing?” Hizashi asked with a smile. He hadn’t even met the kid and he was already invested.

He hummed. “Fine, I guess. The kid’s been a lot more trusting lately, which is good, he’s just stubborn.”

Hizashi cocked his head. “He still won’t consider trying the hero course?”

“No. He’s adamant he can’t be a hero. Some kind of trauma there, I think. Hard to tell. For a kid that talks so much he doesn’t actually seem to say anything unless he’s rambling.” Shouta scratched his chin, thinking. “I’ll just have to keep working at it.”

His husband nodded along. “Have you talked to Nedzu about The Thing?”

“I have.” he answered. “But he says it’ll take a bit more time. Might need to figure something else out in the meantime.”

Hizashi already seemed to have an idea in mind, smiling wide. “Does that mean-?!”

“If I can get him to agree to the whole thing. Which is unlikely, as things are now.” he cut his husband off. Most people assumed Present Mic was a bubbly airhead, and he was, but the loud blonde was frustratingly insightful sometimes.

“Aw, don’t say that! It’ll work out, just give it time!”

“Maybe. We can talk about it later if something actually happens. Let’s just watch the movie. It’s my turn to pick.” Hizashi groaned as he snagged the remote, navigating their streaming apps until he found the absolute worst horror movie he could find, smiling. But of course, their stupid work phones had to go off right as it started.

He sighed, grabbing his phone as it lit up with another update. Hizashi grabbed his, and they read in tandem. Apparently, a potential serial killer had been spotted in Musutafu. It wasn’t anything official, just rumors, but apparently a person matching their description had been seen wandering around at night. He flipped through the details quickly, memorizing what he could and bookmarking the rest for later, wanting to get back to movie night.

He’d have to keep an eye out for this Toga Himiko.

Chapter Text

“The morning IS HERE! The morning IS HERE! The morning IS-”

SMACK!

Plastic went flying across Mina’s room, as she smacked the god-forsaken alarm clock Toshi had given her after she melted the last two. This one was, apparently, corrosion-proof. What a shame.

Sitting up in her bed, she unwrapped herself from a fairly-impressive cocoon of weighted blankets and plushies, taking in the space around her as she fought against the endless gravity well known as sleep.

My room. The thought was still odd to her. Back with her parents the Ashidos, it had felt less like her home and more like…a guest room? Nothing she owned back then had ever really felt like hers. Everything had to match her mother’s aesthetic, or not annoy her father (which was impossible, so her wall decorations went from slim to none after their first move).

Now though, Toshi had given her an open offer to get anything she wanted for her room. The offer was overwhelming at first, and despite the wealth he apparently had squared away she felt bad wasting the man’s money. She’d stuck with simple things: some new sheets, a beanbag chair, a desk. All more colorful than her old stuff but perhaps a bit plain for her own tastes. But that was fine!

Well, apparently it wasn’t. Her mentor was sharper than she gave him credit for, and within a week she’d found three separate catalogues sitting on her bed, full of so many neon colors and patterns even she had to squint at them.

Now, her room looked like the one she’d always dreamed of when she was little. Her bed and blankets were all either a bright neon color or some version of cheetah print, and she had a little area rug to match. She had two bright purple beanbag chairs, and her desk was dotted with splotches of paint and a few figures of different heroes she liked (yes, All Might was included, even if it was embarrassing asking her new guardian to get her a figure of himself). On the walls, various posters and art were proudly displayed, most of them referencing a certain movie series with an acidic-themed alien.

It was perfect.

Climbing out of bed and stretching, she worked out the various kinks in her sore muscles from yesterday’s training. Once she felt limber enough, she padded across the room and out into the rest of the apartment, where Toshi was already sitting at the dining room table, scrolling on a tablet and ignoring a smoothie set next to him.

Moving over to sit next to the man, she unceremoniously flopped her head onto the table, groaning loudly to announce her presence. Toshi, the slave driver, just chuckled.

“Good morning, Young Mina. Sleep well?”

A grunt. Toshi just chuckled, as he did every morning.

Truthfully, she’d never been so rested in her life. Who would have thought that a crappy home followed by NO home would make for bad sleeping conditions? Of course, she certainly didn’t FEEL rested, as Toshi still had her getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to go clean the beach.

That was another thing, the training. There were about 5 months left until the UA entrance exam, and the training had only increased in intensity since she started. With how tired she was all the time, it was hard to tell if she was getting any stronger at all, but she could certainly see some changes. The remnants of baby fat and ribs from malnutrition had given way to lithe muscle and a strong frame. Her posture was straight and her skin was practically glowing as well, now a bright bubblegum hot pink instead of a pale rose. Her broken horn had even grown back!

On top of the physical training, Toshi also included both study time and quirk training in her plan. Her school studies had been going…fine, she guessed. It was still pretty boring, and she sort of missed going at her own pace, although she had to admit now that she had Toshi keeping her honest she spent a lot less time goofing off. Even so, she still visited Quirks Analysis Anonymous from time to time, and saved plenty of goofy cat videos, the only difference being she now sent said cat videos to Toshi, who laughed hard enough to spit up blood on several occasions.

Her quirk training was going great too! She already had pretty decent control from a lifetime of making people less afraid of her being careful about property damage, so most of what she did was practical, along with raising her limits where she could. Producing more acid, making it faster, or different kinds, or altering its properties (saying the word ‘solubility’ gave her a headache). Apparently, One for All would supercharge her quirk (which sounded awesome), so with a quirk as naturally dangerous as Acid, perfect control was the name of the game.

A soft clatter brought her back from her thoughts, Toshi setting a small cup of coffee in front of her. With a grumbled ‘thanks’, she drained most of it, not caring that the liquid was hot enough to burn.

“Coffee isn’t in the diet plan, you know.” Toshi scolded, mostly teasing.

Mina cracked an eye open, bright yellow meeting electric blue in the low light of the morning.

“Can’t be a hero if I can’t wake up.”

“Can’t be a hero if you die of caffeine withdrawal on a long mission.”

She glared. He glared back. She smirked.

“Drink your meat smoothie, old man.”

The man scoffed, offended, before glaring at the glass on the table next to him, filled with an undeniably brown liquid. Since Toshi had lost his stomach to whatever villain gave him his injuries (the man refused to elaborate, and Mina was scared to push him) he was pretty much on a liquid diet. Now, medical technology had progressed since the dawn of quirks, so he could pretty much get an entire day’s worth of nutrients from a couple of smoothies, but he absolutely abhorred them.

Not that she blamed him. No matter what they had tried putting in it (everything from lemon juice to hot sauce to whipped cream), the smoothies all had this ‘mystery meat’ flavor that would just not disappear. Even so…

“No. I’m not hungry.”

The man was like a child being asked to take his medicine.

“Drink your smoothie, you big baby.”

“I thought I was an old man?” he asked incredulously.

Draining the rest of her coffee, Mina slid the glass over in front of him.

“You’re both. I’ll be ready to go in ten. If the smoothie isn’t gone by then, I’m posting the fact that you wear pajamas with your own face on them to the internet.”

A spurt of blood met an evil cackle as she raced back to her room.

—-------------------------

Training was, as usual, brutal.

Mina grunted as she hefted a broken microwave into the back of Toshi’s pickup truck, before using her shirt to wipe some of the sweat off of her brow. Looking back, she marveled at the rate at which trash was vanishing. She had more or less finished her online schooling, which meant more time to clean, so long as her body didn’t give out. With her spare time, she still liked to swing by the library to help clean and stock shelves, but she no longer accepted any money or food for it (the old librarian hugged her when she’d come back the first time, having been worried something had happened to her).

Toshi had left a while ago to be All Might somewhere, so she had decided to take this rare opportunity to sit on the sand and relax a moment, browsing her phone while she caught her breath.

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

New post in [#quirkAdvice] by LittleRed89 (11:56am):

Yo yo, people! Listen, can I get some tips on strengthening my quirk? It’s a durability-type. I haven’t thought of anything good besides like…smacking my head with a metal pole?

22 likes  9 comments

MirukosThighs (11:59am):

Um….please don’t? There’s no way that actually works…right?

GangGangOrca456 (12:04pm):

Like, if it works? My cousin has a quirk that makes a little wall of light pop up, and we trained it by throwing stuff at it.

SmallMight189 (12:07pm):

Oh! Are you training for the upcoming entrance exam season? If so, practice control over strength! Strength is important, but once you get it to a passable level really try and hone in what you can do with it!

SmallMight189 (12:08pm):

Also…please don’t hurt yourself? Maybe try a reinforced punching bag. Or play some paintball!

ActuallyCrust (12:09pm):

Small Might is back! Dude, we thought you died!

============================

Mina chuckled to herself. This SmallMight dude really knew his stuff. She’d asked for control tips once or twice, and like clockwork he’d given her some stuff to try with only the vaguest description of her quirk’s abilities. She was currently working on making acid that acted like glue, but no luck yet. Even so, as of late SmallMight189’s posts had become a little…lopsided?

Quirks Analysis Anonymous

New post in [#quirkDiscussions] by WoodsKamuiTreeMan999 (3:42am):

What do ya’ll think Kamui Woods looks like under the mask? Does he have a face? Or is it just more wood? #wewantanswers.

45 likes  5 comments

FlowersforFun824 (4:01am):

This is exactly what I needed at 4am. Cutting edge discourse right here.

SmallMight189 (4:04am):

Does he bleed sap? Is there a way to find out?

SawBoy024(4:06am):

0_0 ayo? SmallMight you good?

SmallMight189 (4:06am):

:3

FlowersforFun824 (4:07am):

Mom come pick me up I’m scared.

=========================

At least it kept things interesting.

“Young Mina! Is that lazing around I see! I guess you won’t mind staying an extra hour today, what with all that spare energy!”

Crap.

Shouta hauled himself up onto the roof adjacent to Darker Brews, carefully balancing two drinks while a bag of various treats was corralled within his capture weapon. It was an impressive feat, even for a hero, and one that he was proud of. Precious cargo and all that. Strolling across the roof, he caught sight of Null, on time for once, idly playing with a knife while staring out into space.

“Hey, Eraser.”

He raised a brow. “At least your situational awareness is still good, despite your aptitude for getting into trouble.”

The kid just cocked his head to the side, a clear display of amusement. “You can just say I’m better than your students, Eraser.”

He smirked under his scarf. “Well aren’t you sassy today?”

“I’m in a good mood.” Null accepted the bag of treats, opening it to him. Shouta snagged a cookie and sat down on the edge of the roof, Null sliding in next to him a couple feet away.

“Really?” he asked. “Why’s that?”

“I…” the kid trailed off, thinking. “It’s a secret. Let’s just say something that’d been weighing on me worked out.”

Shouta smiled, genuinely. “That’s great, kid.” Too bad he’d probably kill that good mood shortly.

Null hummed. “So, what, what’s with the urgent meet-up? And the drink? I told you I’m not having any while you’re here.”

Shouta shrugged. “Always worth a shot. Anyways, I have news regarding Setsuno’s interrogation.”

The mood shifted at once, becoming more tense. The kid really knew how to settle into Work Mode.

“Go on.”

Shouta took a bite of his cookie (snickerdoodle, nice), before getting out his phone and flipping to his notes app. “Please keep in mind that me telling you this is illegal, and could get me arrested, instead of you.”

Null rolled his neck like one would roll their eyes. “Come on, Eraser, who am I gonna tell?”

“Void? Or are you still calling her ‘Knife-chan’?” he still cringed inwardly saying it aloud.

Surprisingly, the vigilante shook his head. “She already knows most of my secrets, and she has nobody to tell but me, anyways. Plus, she’s on mute tonight so we can chat un-interrupted.”

This ‘Knife-chan’ character (definitely keeping Void) was an odd one, for sure. Just as mysterious and hard to pin down as Null himself, but with a bubbly voice and an odd penchant for knives. Honestly, those two were like his worst-behaved students, just dozens of times more competent. Frankly, it’d be both a joy and a migraine to have them in his class.

But that was a thought for later. Tonight was for…news, both good and bad. “Alright, so Setsuno. He wouldn’t spill anything on his new boss, other than there being one, but he did confirm a few other things.”

Null nodded, bidding him on.

“First. The Shie Hassaikai did hire a local gang to push their products, but we pretty much knew that already. More importantly, Setsuno confirmed that some of the ‘product’ they’ve been moving is in fact people.”

Even with the helmet, he could hear a sharp intake of breath. It was one thing to suspect it, but to hear it said out loud changed perspective. Their little operation has officially moved from investigation to rescue.

Or recovery.

Taking in a breath, he let the air out in a steady stream. “Kid, you told me before that you suspected Nashi was the latest in a string of unrelated kidnappings. You were right. That’s the bad news. The good news is that we know how they’re split up, and we have a good idea of where they are.”

Null shot to his feet. “Tell me!”

Shouta put a hand up. “Relax, kid. This isn’t some two-dealer drug bust. This is an organized crime ring we’re tackling. We can’t do anything until we confirm the information and gather enough police and heroes to do that job. When that happens, since I can’t keep you out of it if I tried, you’ll be with me.”

The kid tightened his fists, posture rigid. “That’ll take too long! They’ve waited this long, Eraser, we can’t just-”

“What we can’t do is rush in half-cocked and get killed!” Shouta snapped back. This kid would not be another Oboro. “We both need to rest and prepare. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right. No mistakes. Nobody gets away, and nobody gets left behind or missed.”

Null slumped at that, sitting back on the roof and putting his chin in his hands. “Fine, we’ll do it your way, mister hero. Tell me about the groups then.”

Shouta nodded. “Logical. Apparently, they’re split up by quirk. We suspect it has something to do with their Trigger testing. There are three groups that we were told about. One group with strong emitter or transformation-type quirks. One smaller group of mutant quirk holders. And then a group of quirkless people and ‘the leftovers’.”

“And that’s where Nashi would be.”

He nodded. “Among others, yes. I know Nashi was your first link into this, but don’t forget it’s about all of them now.” Null nodded in understanding. God, why couldn’t his students be this receptive?

“I’ll get in touch with the raid info once I have it. Not all heroes are so open to working with vigilantes, so you might have to eavesdrop on the meeting or show up right as we begin. Can you handle that, Problem Child?”

“Ugh enough with that nickname!” he complained. “I’m not some stupid kid that keeps wandering into trouble.”

“No,” Shouta responded dryly. “You’re some stupid kid that looks for trouble. That’s objectively worse.”

“I resent that!” Null pounded a fist against his leg.

“I could give you detention if that would help.”

Null crossed his arms. “No you can’t! I’m not even enrolled in your stupid class!”

Shouta turned, looking him right in the face. “You could be. Should be.”

The vigilante froze, before looking away harshly. “Not happening.”

Biting down the bubble of disappointment, Shouta sighed. “Not yet. I’m not giving up on you that easily.”

“Bite me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Pass. You probably have rabies or something. Is that why you wear the helmet?”

Null stood up abruptly, nearly startling Shouta off the edge of the roof. Reaching down, the vigilante snatched the spare coffee off of the ground, before sitting down just as roughly, his back against Shouta’s own.

“Don’t move. Or I’m pushing you off the roof.” Shouta just blinked, confused. He could hear Null muttering to himself for a moment-

Clunk.

Eyebrows raising high, he glanced to the side, where…Null’s helmet sat, no longer atop it’s owner. He could hear and partially feel the kid at his back, running a hand through his hair quickly. A quiet sigh came next, followed by a slurping sound of him drinking.

“This is actually pretty good. Thanks, Eraser.” Shouta tried to memorize the voice as best he could. It was higher-pitched, but definitely male. A young teen, maybe? Fuck, how young was this kid? He sounded tired, but…happy.

Shouta smiled. He had always been afraid of being a teacher, thinking he was horrible with kids. Maybe he was doing something right, after all.

“You’re welcome, Problem Child.”

They sat in companionable, if slightly awkward, silence, sipping their drinks. Shouta had so much he wanted to ask, but decided that this wasn’t the time. He’d waited this long; he could be patient.

“Hey, Eraser?”

Putting his now-empty cup down, he leaned back, but didn’t turn his head. “Yeah kid?”

He was silent for about half a minute. His voice came out less certain this time. “Do you think we’ll be able to save them? All of them?”

He wanted to be logical here. He wanted to tell Null that no, sometimes I can’t save everyone. Sometimes the villain is too strong or too quick. Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes you’re too late. He wanted the kid to face the realities of what he was doing, what he was risking. But he already knew that, didn’t he? His fingers wrapped around yellow goggles that Oboro gave him that he took from his lifeless corpse. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to help Null, and to help the kid behind that mask. Oboro would have liked him he could tell. He answered.

“Yeah kid, I really do.”

Chapter Text

In reality, it had only taken the heroes another three days to plan their first raid. To Izuku, it had taken an eternity.

He’d paced around the apartment so much Himiko had threatened to tie him down (and weirdly blushed afterwards? Eh, she was odd.) In the end, she’d helped him go over strategies with his different quirks (at least the ones he could use without getting caught). He’d trained a little, mostly on keeping more quirks slotted at once, and could pretty comfortably hold onto three now, depending on which ones. He and Himiko had thrown a few knives around, and the second Eraser had texted him a meetup location he had been out the door in minutes.

Due to the nature of his…well, existence, he couldn’t go to the initial briefing, so he’d be showing up just before the start of the operation. All Eraser had told him was that he’d have to sneak past the police line and meet up with him. It would be Eraserhead and ‘a few other trustworthy heroes’ on this raid. Naturally, he’d tried to ask for more details, but Eraser rebuffed him under the statement ‘explaining twice and leaking information on an official raid are both illogical’. Jerk.

Moving quickly across the rooftops, Null rapidly closed in on their target location. Apparently, the raid was happening at a large fast food restaurant that was currently closed for ‘maintenance’. He could already see unmarked police cars parked in random places across the surrounding roads, but none within eyeshot of the building itself. He’d have to be careful- if a cop saw him and started asking loud questions it could blow the entire operation.

Lucky for him, authority figures don’t think to look up, and before he knew it he was rolling to a jog in the parking lot of an apartment building, right where Eraserhead had asked him to meet. He was only a minute late today!

“You’re late.” Ah, right on time.

“Eraserhead.”

The man in question was clearly tensed for a fight. Casual posture and soft footsteps belied a severe tension in his frame. Dark eyes flickered around, taking stock of any and all irregularities. One hand was loose in a pocket, but was likely grabbing a tool or weapon of some kind, while the other was fisted loosely in the man’s capture weapon. Even the bags under the hero’s eyes weren’t as prevalent today, meaning that he’d gotten decent sleep for this.

“So,” Null asked. “Where are these other heroes you were talking about? Are they gonna try and arrest me? Because I really don’t wanna have to break anyone’s legs.”

His helmet pinged with a proximity alert, and Null flinched as a hand patted his back hard enough to send him stumbling a step forwards. A light, gravely voice chuckled in a quiet but boisterous laugh.

“I like this one! You got some spunk to ya, kid! Lookin’ forward to workin’ with ya!”

Null blinked at what looked like the least stealthy man on Earth that had somehow snuck up on him. He was nearly as tall as All Might, with a round body that was distinctly friend-shaped. He wore a yellow jacket with a black mask and pants, with orange kneepads.

“I, uh-”

“OH Shouta he’s so cute~! If you’d have said something I would’ve dolled myself up a little for this!”

And now there was ANOTHER person in his personal space! His helmet hadn’t even noticed this one! She was around Eraser’s height, with long and wild purple hair and red glasses framing bright blue eyes that shone with intelligence. Her outfit was….holy-! Null immediately felt himself blush as he averted his gaze from a form-fitting suit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He swore he heard a growl from his headset but figured he had imagined it.

“We’re infiltrating a Yakuza trafficking operation in the dead of night…and you brought Fatgum and Midnight.” he looked at Eraserhead, slightly baffled. “Were the other underground heroes busy?” Don’t get him wrong, both of them were awesome heroes, they just seemed a bit…flashy…for this.

Eraser, to his credit, just nodded like his comment made perfect sense. Fatgum’s smirk took on a bit more of an edge, while Midnight puffed out a cheek, looking offended with a hand on her hip.

“These two have both worked with me on trigger cases before. They’re a lot more ‘underground-savy’ then they look, trust me.”

Fatgum loomed over him, going from a pleasant greeting to assessment. “Eraser said he’d be bringing a tag-along. Never thought it’d be a plucky gremlin with a mouth. What’s your name, kid?”

Null glared. “I’m not a kid. Name’s Null. Me and Eraser have been working on this case for a while.”

Midnight smirked. “A vigilante, huh? Adopting another stray so soon, Shou? I suppose the last one worked out pretty well.”

Eraserhead glared. “Koichi is a danger to himself and society. He’s just lucky.”

Midnight brushed him off. “That being said,” she leaned down, eye level with him. Null tried very hard to keep his eyes on her face and absolutely nothing else. “You seem awfully sure of yourself. Don’t worry, if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to perform under pressure~.”

“I don’t trust her, Izu. Take her quirk! Take it and beat her with it!”

He chuckled. “Codenames, Knife-chan. Plus, I can’t do that. Her quirk puts people to sleep it could be very helpful.”

The heroes blinked at him. “The heck are you talking to?” Fatgum asked.

Eraser rolled his eyes. “Probably his partner. Speaking of, we won’t be able to share comms, since we’ll need to coordinate with police. That means stay close to one of us, preferably me, so that you don’t get lost in any commotion.”

“Aw see? You do care!”

“Nemuri it is not too late to send you home.”

Midnight crossed her arms and turned away with a huff. “You wish. You know you love me.”

“Police Detective Tsukauchi, checking in. Raid will begin in 8 minutes.”

Immediately, the teasing atmosphere dropped, leaving cold professionals in its place. Fatgum started downing high-calorie bars, while Midnight began to check over the various equipment strapped to her belt. Null couldn’t help but notice no matter how much she moved around, nothing on her made any sound, including her heeled shoes and her handcuffs. Interesting.

Eraserhead moved over towards him, moving his goggles over his eyes. “Stick to the plan. Fatgum will barge in from the front. Midnight will move in through the back one minute later and unleash her quirk. The victims are likely being held in either a basement or the walk-in fridge. You and I will move in through the roof. We’re in charge of neutralizing anyone with especially powerful quirks. Prioritize quick takedowns and conserve your stamina. If you get into a fight you cannot win, disengage and call for backup. Understand?”

Null absorbed this, before nodding. He ran his hands along his uniform and belt pouches checking that he had everything. Fireworks? Check. Lighter? Check. Knives? So many. Helmet? Secure. The heroes finished their preparations and Eraser glanced down at him again. “You ready Null?”

Reaching deep within himself, he slotted three quirks into place, feeling them pulse and spread throughout his body.

“I’m ready.”

=================

A few minutes later, everyone was in position. He couldn’t see Midnight or Fatgum from atop the roof of the restaurant, but he could see a few cops silently closing in. He and Eraserhead had stealthily climbed up the side of the building, Null using Helium and Eraserhead utilizing his capture weapon. Together, they crept over to the roof access hatch, likely locked from the inside. Eraserhead dug into his scarf, before pulling out-

“Null, is, uh, it that C4?”

Not wanting to speak, he nodded, numbly. A fist-sized hunk of what looked like white clay in the vague shape of a rectangle, with a few wires and a black display screen on the front. Since when did Eraserhead pack that kind of heat?

Barely restraining himself from asking about it, he tensed as he heard the detective in his ear again (thanks Himiko, though he wouldn’t be mentioning she’d hacked into their comms).

“Operation is a go. Fatgum, engage. Officers on sides. Go!”

The shattering of glass windows destroyed the quiet of the night, as Fatgum began screaming below.

“HEY ASSHOLES! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND OR GET CLOBBERED! TIME FOR A ONE-WAY FAT TAXI TO PRISON!”

As the sounds of yelling and quirks started below him, Eraserhead punched a few commands onto his bomb, before sticking it to the hatch. Looking down, Izuku saw a timer counting down with big red numbers.

[01:00]

“Come on!”

Eraser ran to the other side of the roof, ducking behind a metal tube and hunkering down. Null could vaguely hear another door slam open, and a faint female voice within let him know that Midnight had likely just engaged as well.

His quirks flared in his chest, anticipating battle, or maybe that was just adrenaline? Hard to tell. The timer counted down as gunfire started going off, both inside and outside of the building. Eraser tensed. It was time.

[00:03]

[00:02]

[00:01]

[00:00]

BOOM!

The roof cracked around the now-ruined access hatch, and Eraser wasted no time dashing forwards. He wrapped his scarf around the debris, wrenching it free and tossing it to the side in a puff of smoke, revealing a metal ladder that descended below. The sound of fighting and yelling were much louder now.

“You ready? This should lead into the kitchen.” Null nodded, and the two leapt down into the opening.

—------------------

As it turned out, fighting a whole group of semi-organized villains in a small fast-food kitchen was not ideal.

“Null!”

Null ducked as a man with some kind of pig mutation swung a pipe at him, the object ricocheting off of a nearby counter with a sound that made everyone in the room cringe. Pig Man dropped the metal and shook his hands out as Null got into his space, dropping him with two well-placed hits to the solar plexus along with a steel-toed kick to the crotch.

Twisting, he saw Eraserhead fighting off three people next to the friers. His hair was raised, indicating all three had lost their quirks, but they were still ganging up on him with knives and brass knuckles. He was about to leap the counter that separated them to help, but Eraser simply lashed out with his scarf, entangling one while he kicked another in the face, sending him reeling. Bringing up the arm holding the end of his scarf, he caught the fist of the third man in its folds and twisted, swiftly dislocating the elbow while sweeping the man’s feet out. He went down screaming, so Eraserhead kicked him in the head as he tightened his hold on the final person, their skin turning red from exertion as the metallic cloth choked him out.

Clearly, he had this handled.

Ducking a blow from another thug, Null beat another man with several open-handed palm strikes across his body and arms, sending him back a foot or two but not dealing much damage.

“Nice try you little shi-”

He tugged with Despot, sending his attacker straight into another villain that was charging up some kind of wind-based quirk, sending them both sprawling. Another tug and his victim punched his friend in the face, knocking them out before doing the same to himself.

Whipping around at a loud click, he threw himself to the ground as a pistol shot where his torso just was. Reaching into his belt, he whipped a ball bearing at the man’s head, disorienting him enough so that his second shot missed, before snapping a leg up into the underside of his chin. The man went down and Null quickly kicked the gun under the nearest oven.

“This is Midnight! Requesting-oof! Requesting backup in the alley! Bull quirk threw me outside!”

“Officers en-route!”

He moved to disengage and go help the hero, but two more thugs got in his way. He locked eyes with Eraserhead for an instant, the man shaking his head. Focus on this now, help after. Grunting, put his arms up just in time to block a punch from one of his new opponents, a woman with long black hair that she had wrapped around her fists. Some kind of hair-enhancement quirk? He didn’t have time to figure it out as she started to wail on his guard, quickly pushing him back.

Heavy.

His backwards progress halted so abruptly that the woman overextended, eyes wide as he forced her back, the tiled floor cracking under his feet. He Pulled a large metal serving spoon off of a nearby counter and promptly beamed her over the head with it. She staggered backwards, but didn’t go down. A man swept in under her arms, moving towards him like a leopard pouncing on its prey, with a mutation quirk to match. Claws raked against his arm, shredding the padding but luckily not hitting flesh quite yet. He jabbed out with the spoon like it was a fencing sword, the cat-man dodging each hit with ease. However, Null couldn’t help but notice how his eyes would dart to the spoon as it went past him.

Cats…do like shiny objects, don’t they?

Thinking on his feet, he chucked the spoon over the villain’s head, smirking as his eyes followed the projectile as it sailed over the head of both him and the hair-villain. He reeled back, punching the man right in the nose and dropping him. The woman looked to him, hair tightening around her fists and- yes he could see it, the strands tightened and hardened into something that was probably the equivalent of brass knuckles.

What an interesting quirk! And she’s actually using it creatively! So rare among villains these days…

He Pulled on the spoon before it left his range, velocity picking up rapidly as it careened-

Bong!

Right into the back of the woman’s head. She clutched at her skull, crying out in pain as Null dashed forwards once more. The villain swiped at him in a lousy right hook, and he ducked under the blow, shoving his shoulder into hers and sending her to the ground in a devastating shoulder toss that robbed her of the rest of her air, before kicking her in the temple and ending it.

Huffing slightly with exertion, he glanced over towards Eraserhead, who was finishing dispatching the villains on his side of the room. The man smashed a pan down on a thug who had tried to attack him from behind, the kitchen going quiet for just a moment, before a low vibration shook the air.

They weren’t done yet.

Nemuri was pissed.

The raid had started off swimmingly at first. She wasn’t really familiar with the Detective in charge, but she knew that Shouta, Eraserhead, worked with him fairly often these days. He was by-the-books, and had the face of a newbie with the eyes and instincts of a weathered professional. He was almost her type.

Everything had been textbook, up to a certain point. Multiple entry points, confusion tactics, and several liberal applications of her quirk that left nearly a dozen villains asleep where they’d been playing cards in the storage area.

Even so, plans always, always, went off the rails at some point. She was pissed that the universe had given her the short straw tonight.

She’d cleared the storage area and the larger walk-in freezer in no time, but had run into an issue when she found a closed hatch that lead down, assumedly to a crawl space or storm shelter that was giving her bad vibes. She’d taken two steps towards it when the wall next to her exploded into shards of wood and insulation. Something had come rushing at her at speed, stabbing her in the side and smashing her straight through the opposite wall and into the parking lot behind the building.

Doing her best to roll with the impact, she winced at the tears in her costume and arms from the pavement before finally finding her footing again. Her costume was already a wreck, but she quickly produced her whip and scanned the area, finding her assailant.

Through the rubble emerged a large figure, probably upwards of ten or eleven feet tall, with rippling muscles and horns. Dark brown fur coated the body, dressed in thick leather pants and a matching vest overtop a white tank top, stretched nearly to bursting. Vaguely feminine features hid beneath a form she had only referenced in her Art History class.

Quirks were odd things, able to replicate anything from advanced technology to animals…and occasionally human mythology.

And now here she was, armed with a whip and some bladed fans, and a quirk that worked poorly against women, facing off against what appeared to be a fully-grown minotaur straight out of Greek myth.

And she was certainly no Theseus.

The villain honest-to-god roared, rattling the nearby windows, before charging at her on hoofed feet. She dodged to the side, rolling, as a meaty fist came down where she’d been standing a moment before, not cracking but shattering the pavement beneath.

What the hell?!

Minotaur turned again and roared, when Nemuri noticed the inside of her mouth.

A black tongue and gums. Trigger.

Shit.

Calling for immediate backup over her comms, she was forced into another roll, letting her quirk free as she dodged. This time, the villain stopped and attempted to turn mid-run, scrambling and falling across the concrete but not even getting slowed down by Somnambulist. Between her quirk not being effective against women, the wide-open space, and the trigger-enhanced mutation quirk, this woman was basically her natural enemy.

Welp. Plus Ultra and all that.

She lashed out with her whip, wrapping it around the villain’s legs, attempting a trip, but she gasped when the end of her weapon was grabbed and torn, before she was being reeled in like the world’s sexiest fish.

Dropping the leather handle, she produced her backup, and deadlier, weapon. Two elegant fans, purple with calligraphy sketched onto the sides, and wicked honed blades along the edges. In the privacy of her mind, she called them Outflow, named after one of Oboro’s signature moves.

She had dealt with Trigger-happy villains before. Ruthless and violent, powerful, but uncoordinated. Clumsy and slow to react, in their intoxicated state. Ducking in quickly, she put her years of gymnastics to the test as she limbo-bent her spine to dodge and incoming fist, before lashing out with a fan, slicing the villain at the wrist and making them howl in pain, clutching their arm. Not one to waste an opportunity for a second round, she straightened her spine and jumped up and off of the villain’s bent knee, slashing them across the collar bone while simultaneously wafting a cloud of her quirk into the minotaur’s face.

The villain coughed and sputtered, swaying slightly but not close to going down, not yet. Anger bled through, muscles visibly bulging and veins pumping as she flexed and roared. Did she mention that fighting trigger-villains sucked?

Rearing back, the minotaur grabbed the hood of a car one-handed, grip denting and nearly puncturing metal, as she swung her arm forward and sent a sedan through the air directly at her. Eyes blowing wide, she ducked to the side not-fast-enough as the car sailed past, wincing as the passing side mirror nearly ripped her arm out of its socket, sending her to the ground in a painful heap. Staggering to her feet again, she was met with the sight of another bull rush, two sharp black horns begging to gore her. She’d already taken a glancing blow from one already, the wound in her side was slowly leaking a trail of blood onto her costume. Straight on? They had death written all over them.

Like most responsible adults, she decided to try and emulate something she saw on TV. As the villain charged in, she waited until the last minute, before opening both fans and spinning to the side on her toes like a dancer. The villain sped past, running straight into a cloud of her quirk she’d produced beforehand as well as the car that had been thrown, metal screeching against concrete and sending sparks flying into the night sky.

“Olay~!” she cried. “Come on, dear, is that the best you can do? I expected a better performance, to be honest.” She punctuated her statement with a sultry wink, trying to rile up her opponent.

It worked every time.

Roaring again, the villain charged in, but Nemuri had the timing by now. Each charge was deftly dodged at the last second, sending the woman into a cloud of her quirk to disorientate her and hopefully build up over time.

“Oh! That was so close!”

“My, my, everyone knows I like them meaty, but a bit more control would be nice.”

“If you wanted to impale me, you should have asked politely~”

The end of each charge was ended with an inuendo that further enraged the villain, and in their Trigger-angry state their critical thinking was lost. If Nemuri could keep her angry, she could wait out the Trigger, and when it was gone her quirk would probably knock them out. For a few days, maybe. It was a dangerous game, but it was one she was winning.

The minotaur villain huffed and panted, clearly running a bit low on steam. Nemuri herself wasn’t doing too much better. Her back hurt from getting thrown through that wall, and her side still hadn’t stopped bleeding, not with all of her rapid movement. It wasn’t a heavy bleed, but it would pose an issue sooner rather than later if she didn’t do something. Wiping some sweat from her brow, she smirked at her opponent.

“What’s wrong? Out of stamina? I could go all night, with or without you.” Another wink, another roar, and the villain was off. Nemuri nearly rolled her eyes at the repetitiveness, but refrained as the villain charged in once again.

Determined not to choke at the finish line, Nemuri spun out of the way once again, but gasped when a thick arm reached out from the side, close lining her and knocking the breath straight from her lungs. She wheezed as the was picked up in the villain’s grasp, both arms coming around her midsection tightly.

“I do love a good sweaty embrace, but consent is important. How about you let me go-”

Her words were choked out of her as the villain began to squeeze, forcing the air from her and making her spine pop in ways that would concern most chiropractors. This was a bad situation for most heroes, especially of her stature.

But Midnight was not most heroes.

It was, perhaps, a bit unladylike, but Nermuri figured it was time to pull out one of her more powerful moves.

She reared her head back and spit right into the villain’s face.

Immediately, the minotaur roared and staggered backwards, dropping Nemuri onto her ass as pink mist rose into the air from the saliva she’d just hucked.

It was a well-kept secret on her part, but her quirk, Somnambulist, wasn’t just a pink gas she emitted from her skin. The big clue, for anyone well-versed in science, was that it wasn’t very effective on women. Her quirk was a pheromone, one that was produced, best she and her doctor could tell, in various small glands across her body. Most of them acted like specialized sweat glands that could push the pheromone through her skin, where it vaporized when it came into contact with air.

However, she could also emit it in other ways, like mixing it into her spit in a concentrated form. It only lasted a moment before it vaporized, but at point-blank it was almost like chloroform. On one desperate occasion she’d even cried it out, the concoction so strong it had actually knocked her out, too, even if only for a minute or two.

She huffed a sigh of relief as she took stock. The villain collapsed to the ground with a mighty thud, rippling muscles and elongated horns shrinking down into something more…human, as the drugs wore off. She heard the rapid footfalls of the police (fucking finally) coming to back her up. She attempted to stretch, wincing when something else in her back popped, figuring it was probably best she avoid combat the rest of the night.

She was broken from her thoughts as a massive boom rocked the area, knocking her and several smaller policemen on their asses. Covering her ears and looking up, she cursed-

At the roof of the restaurant exploding in a massive ball of fire.

Chapter Text

Several Minutes Earlier

Null and Eraser slowly caught their breath in the moments after their fighting had ended. The kitchen was a disaster. Originally, there had been two walkways in a U-shape, with a long counter in-between. On one side, where Eraser had been fighting, a row of deep-fryers and a few ovens and stovetops- the cooking area. Null had been fighting on the other side, with a food-prep station and a large industrial dishwasher.

What had once been a large and well-organized kitchen was now littered with broken objects and weapons and well over a dozen unconscious villains. Eraser and Null together made quick work of zip tying them so they couldn’t get up and cause more issues, working silently and efficiently, when a deep humming sound shook the air, and Null’s helmet pinged with a proximity alert.

VrrrrrrVRRRRRR!

An odd mechanical sound, something like a dulled motor, filled the room loudly. Vigilante and hero both snapped to defensive stances as a new man entered the room. He had dirty blonde hair, and was wearing what looked like the tattered remains of a salaryman outfit. The alarming part was his quirk.

“Are those chainsaws?!”

Each arm was split at the elbow, with massive chainsaws emerging out of them. A smaller one emerged directly out of the man’s forehead. They weren’t spinning, but he now recognized the sound of an idling motor, probably within the man’s body.

“Sorry guys, standard protocol. Boss promised me something pretty for doin’ this, so…”

Eraser’s scarf lashed out, but the man swiftly dodged as he produced a vial from his breast pocket, ending in a needle and filled with a dark green fluid-

“TRIGGER!”

Red eyes flashed from the hero as the motor cut off, but the man injected the drug regardless. Eyes became bloodshot, and the chainsaws across his body pulsed and grew, turning from fairly large power tools to overweighted implements of destruction, now extending close to three or four feet off of his body. The villain staggered, and glared at them, eyes now blood red and teeth sharp like daggers.

“Let’s play.”

He dashed forwards with abnormal speed, taking a large swipe that forced both of them to dodge, Eraser going under while Null jumped over, as well as destroying everything on the counter between them.

Eyes darting back and forth as drool dripped from his maw, the chainsaw villain locked onto Null next, where he darted over the counter and thrusted his arm forwards to stab. Eraser snapped out with his capture cloth, but the implement was shredded in an instant, making the hero curse under his breath.

Null ducked around the stab, the weapon burying itself into the dishwasher before being ripped free in a screech of decimated metal. Another swing came in from the side with a vicious cackle, taking out part of the wall and sending Null sprawling across the ground.

“HA! Ah, this is the best! Hey, short-stuff, stop dodging! I’m starting to have fun, and I wanna see what your blood tastes like!”

Null blanched at that, before…oh! This guy had some kind of blood quirk, like Himiko!

Would Transform help in this situation?

He didn’t have anyone’s blood stockpiled, obviously, and he wasn’t sure if Himiko had anyone stored in there when he took it. The bloodlust might give him an edge in combat, though…but it was still so volatile.

He could feel it in there, pulsing, waiting to be used. To be let free.

Maybe now wasn’t the time.

Another lunge, and this time Null dove between the man’s legs, kicking the back of his knee as he flipped to his feet, easy thanks to Helium.

Growling in anger, the villain swung his arms wide in an arc, sending sparks ricocheting around parts of the room and sending Eraserhead into a roll.

Making him blink.

Three chainsaws revved to life, filling the room with a near-deafening roar of motors as the villain cackled, sharp teeth on full display.

“HAHAHAHA! YAAAAAAH!”

His motions became more animalistic the longer the dodging went on, targeted swipes becoming unseeing arcs of destruction. The man was losing his reason as the trigger worked its way into his system.

One stray swipe sent part of the central counter into him, the heavy impact wedging him against the floor. Seeing him trapped for the moment, the villain whirled on Eraserhead, who had erased his quirk again but was still being forced to play defensive in the enclosed space. He got one good punch into the man’s head, but recoiled as a dull gong echoed out- the man must have had a motor in his head.

Shaking his fist out and backing up, Eraser continued ducking and weaving, seemingly fine with playing defensive and letting the villain work the drugs out of his body. Null struggled under the weight of the debris, wishing once again that he had a stupid strength quirk. The only one that would fit the bill would blow his cover and probably destroy the building, so that was out! He had just gotten his feet propped against the heavy metal, starting to use his leg strength to push it up and off of him, still tracking the fight as the chainsaw villain took a wide overhead swing down towards Eraser’s head. The man dodged, fairly easily, but he was forced to blink as a shower of sparks rained down from the ceiling on and behind him.

Right into the fryers.

“ERASERHEAD!” Null screamed, ditching every quirk besides Pull in an instant, yanking on the man’s clothes, scarf, goggles, everything so hard his vision went dark from the strain.

BOOOM!

—---------------------------

“-zu! Izu! Izuku, get up!”

Rolling onto his stomach, Izuku shook his head, trying to dislodge the damned ringing that was encompassing his entire world. His vision was dark, his surroundings hard to make out through…smoke?

“Izuku FOCUS!”

“Himi-chan?” he asked, confused. What was she doing here?

“That powertool-themed MORON blew up the kitchen! You have to GO!”

Blinking hard once, twice, three times, Izuku- no, Null, took stock of his surroundings.

Kitchen? What kitchen? He gasped. THE RAID!

The restaurant was in shambles. The kitchen was functionally destroyed, and large swaths of fire covered the walls near where the fryers were, as well as the floor and ceiling. Thick black smoke was filling the room, and he heard some ominous creaking. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but the building could not be in great condition.

“Thanks, Knife-chan. Listen, can you pull up a blueprint of the building or something? I haven’t heard anything from the heroes about recovering the victims, and we need to get everyone out of here fast.”

“Izu-ugh, Null, NO! Get out of there now!”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that. Everyone in the building would die. I won’t leave them!”

The headset was silenced, before he heard the crackling of static and some high-pitched feedback that made him wince.

‘-raserhead. Come in, Eraserhead!’ One of the police’s voice came in through his comms.

“Shut up!” Himiko yelled. “There was an explosion in the kitchen, Eraserhead is down along with a bunch of thugs. The civilians should be in a basement storage area through a hatch in the back room. If you’re gunna save ‘em you should do it quickly.”

“Who is this?! How did you get on our comms!”

The sound of labored coughing cut through the chatter as more police started question Himiko’s presence on their communication line.

“Eraser here. Don’t worry about it, she and the helmet brat are with me.”

Null stood, waving through the smoke until he found the underground hero. He looked terrible, covered in burnt skin and deep, bleeding cuts. His hair was singed and smoking and his goggles were broken, pieces of yellow plastic digging into his face.

“Fatgum! You lead the officers to the victims. Eraserhead, can you and your tag-alongs evac the kitchen?”

The man nodded, wincing. “We’ll manage. Where’s Midnight?”

“Injured, but conscious. In no shape for rescue though. Fire department is on their way already, so just do what you can.”

Affirming, Eraser looked at Null as he pulled what looked like some kind of small gas mask out of his scarf, or something close to a rebreather. “Does your helmet filter smoke?”

He nodded. “There’s a limit to it, but I’m okay for a few minutes.”

Eraser stood, pulling his scarf, or what was left of it, and started poking the scattered bodies of unconscious villains. “Grab as many as you can carry and let’s get out of here.”

—----------------

Note to self, acquire fire resistance quirk.

Null was singed, sore, and overall very, very done with tonight. After he and Eraser had each dragged two men out with them, the underground hero had collapsed from his injuries, and was immediately taken off to the side to await an ambulance with Midnight, who started fawning over him.

Meanwhile, Null snuck back into the building, much to Himiko’s protest. His costume was heat resistant, to a point, and between Infra-red and his helmet’s night vision and air filter, he was the best person here for this. He dashed through the kitchen, ignoring the licks of flame slowly burning at his skin. The entire room was one big fireball at this point, and he could already tell that the villains closest to the fryers didn’t make it. He reached all the ones he could, tapping a hand to their chests and activating Despot, using the threads to drag all the bodies he could out the back door.

As he deposited the villains, he dropped the quirk, panting as his headache blew clear past migraine into ‘railroad spike in my skull’ territory. Spots danced in his vision, and he was pretty sure his nose had started bleeding a while ago. Using Pull like that probably saved Eraser some serious burns, but he felt like it nearly ripped his brain in half. Not to mention the burning ache in his chest from using too many quirks too quickly. He was spent.

He put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, when a large, gentle hand rested onto his shoulder. Looking up, Fatgum was looming over him, slightly singed and with a bruise on his cheek, but otherwise unharmed.

“Good job, rookie! I always appreciate the guys that go for the rescues first!” His smile was big, and innocent, and so friendly that Null couldn’t help but smile back under his helmet. “I got everyone out of the basement, anyone else left inside?”

His momentary cheer died at that. “Um…not…not really.”

The large man’s face softened at that, settling into something more somber. “Gotcha. First time, huh?” Null nodded. “I’d like to say it gets easier, but things like this are never easy, and I don’t think they should be.”

He swallowed thickly, glancing around the lot. The fire department had finally shown up, sirens screaming as the trucks approached from down the street. The parking lot was full of police cars and prisoner transport vehicles. He spotted a few people getting loaded into ambulances with varying degrees of injuries. A few villains were already being taken away in cuffs as well. Eraserhead and Midnight were nowhere to be seen, but he suspected they had been carted off already.

Glancing off to the side, Null could see a cluster of about a dozen or so people sitting on the ground in front of a separate ambulance, all wrapped in thick blankets and holding bottles of water. Their faces were pale and gaunt, their hair looked tattered and greasy, and their hands shook. With a start, he realized that they must be the trafficking victims.

Following his gaze, Fatgum sighed. “Despicable, what they did to these poor people. Looks like we got everyone in this group out in one piece, though. That’s something to be thankful for. Here.” Null looked up curiously as the BMI Hero held out what looked like a skewer of takoyaki.

“...where did you get that?”

The hero blinked at him. “I brought it from home, obviously. Want some?”

Null blinked back, although he couldn’t see it. “Uh, thanks, but I’m good.”

Why he stuck around for clean-up, Null wasn’t sure.

Maybe he just wanted to help? To do more? Maybe he was curious about the procedures? He had to admit, it was pretty interesting seeing how they coordinated everything. The police were organizing and transporting the various villains they’d caught, and the firefighters were almost done foaming down the kitchen, the fire was apparently almost out. He and Fatgum had posted up around the perimeter, though it made him feel exposed and a bit out-of-place. It was a bit hard to stave off Imposter Syndrome when he was literally an imposter.

“Having heroes stick around and basically play guard duty is for two reasons. Both to reassure the victims and to make sure none of the villains called in backup. It was common, back in the earlier days of heroes, for some smarter villains to attack after the battle, when the heroes left and there was a chance to free their friends from custody.” Fatgum had explained. The man was shockingly insightful. He seemed to possess a lot of qualities that far surpassed the simplistic, friend-shaped persona he put off. He was quickly moving up the list of Izuku’s favorite heroes.

However, that didn’t exactly help him in his current predicament.

He stands, back and shoulders as straight as he could manage, trying to project an air of authority, despite his height. His hands are on his hips, and he’s desperately attempting to pretend like he’s not extremely tired. It was probably time for him to go.

However, the irritated looking police officer in front of him doesn’t seem too keen on letting him leave. The man is…pretty average, all things considered. A standard police uniform underneath a standard vest. Short black hair, slightly messy, and subtle bags beneath dark eyes. The only thing that set him apart from the rest of the officers here was a tan jacket that covered the ensemble, a shiny detective’s badge pinned to the front.

“Play it cool.” Himiko seemed tense. Her instincts were spot on, so that probably wasn’t a good sign.

Might as well try the diplomacy route. “Excuse me, officer. I’m needed elsewhere, so I’ll be on my way.” Null tried to sidestep the man, but he simply moved into Null’s way again. He hadn’t reached for a weapon yet, but he was sure the man was armed. What was his game?

The man squinted, looking like he was trying to piece something together, before he sighed, speaking in a voice that screamed ‘sleep deprivation’.

“You’re under arrest.”

Himiko immediately started whispering commands of ‘run’ and ‘kick his ass’, but he just smiled wide, throwing his arms out to his sides. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Tsukauchi-kun! You came to see me! Were you here the whole time? You should’ve told me!”

The man in question face-palmed. “You’re not supposed to admit that you know me, Null. I didn’t even realize you were here until one of the villains we arrested pointed you out.” The detective glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, Izu? You know this guy?” Her question was ignored. He’d rather not reveal to the police that he has an accomplice.

“I’m helping!” To be honest, Null didn’t realize how much he’d missed bantering with the man until now. It had been a while. “Eraser wanted some backup, so I came as backup.”

Tsukauchi, to his credit, seemed unimpressed with his enthusiasm. “And you decided to stick around after the operation, in plain sight?”

“I told you it was a bad idea!”

“Hey! Eraser and Midnight were both out of commission, and Fatgum wanted help securing the perimeter. Whatcha say, Detective? Need help transporting any new prisoners? I can drive a squad car!” He knew how to, in theory anyways.

A slightly horrified look settled into the man’s eyes. “You’re under arrest.”

Null stared back at him. “No I’m not.”

He sighed, somehow, even deeper than before. “No, you’re not.”

“And also! Why on earth would you think- wait what?” Null stopped mid-sentence, hands waving as he articulated his next point. “I’m…not?”

Tsukauchi rolled his eyes. “Not for the next ten seconds. I haven’t read you your rights, yet.” The man’s eyes glazed over as he started reciting Null his rights, making no move to catch or restrain him. He couldn’t help the smirk that came over his face. He didn’t really get along with the police, for obvious reasons, but the detective was definitely one of the good ones.

Giving the man a wave he did not return, he passed Tsukauchi and moved away from the parking lot, catching a quick nod from Fatgum in his periphery that he returned. Just before he rounded a corner at the end of the lot, Tsukauchi’s voice hit his ears again.

“Eventually, Eraserhead is going to make you an offer to help you out of this. I suggest you take it!”

He slowed his run, almost stopping but not quite. Turning his head, he saw the detective, standing with his hands in his pockets, leveling him with a look he couldn’t decipher.

An offer? What does that mean?

He’d find out later.

Shouta blinked his eyes open, scowling at how bright the lights in his room were. Hizashi never leaves the lights on when I’m working. Our bed isn’t this stiff, either…oh, hospital. Great.

Sighing quietly to himself, he went through a brief routine that had become oh-so-familiar over the years. He wiggled his toes, checking the feeling in his feet, before slowly and carefully shifting his legs beneath the scratchy hospital blanket. He wiggled his fingers next, followed by his hands and elbows, before shrugging his shoulders and moving his head around. He felt incredibly sore, and recognized a lingering weariness in his muscles he knew by now signified there had been a healing quirk involved. Moving very slowly to avoid jostling any hidden injuries, he sat up, still blinking the crud out of his eyes when a large, warm hand rested in the small of his back.

“Easy there, Sho. Why do you always gotta move the second you wake up? Take it easy a little more, ya dig?” Shouta rolled his eyes as the black and yellow blob on his left finally morphed into his husband as he peered through whatever pain medicine he was on.

“I’m fine, Zashi. Just a bit banged up. How’d the raid go?”

Hizashi rolled his eyes, but smirked, expecting his ‘business first’ attitude by now. “Details are slim, but from what I heard it was a total success. Tsukauchi wants to de-brief you tomorrow, if you’re up for it.” He raised a brow, an obvious question.

“I really am fine, I think.” He frowned, patting his torso. “I…don’t really remember the last few minutes. I was in the kitchen, fighting a drug-enhanced villain, when…” The fog started to part a bit. He remembered the chainsaw villain, vaguely. He destroyed something…set a fire?

‘ERASERHEAD!’

“Null!” his eyes wide, Shouta looked around the room wildly, as if the vigilante would appear out of thin air. “Hizashi, what happened to Null!? He was fighting with me when the building went up.”

“WHAT?!” Hizashi pseudo-yelled, thankfully not with his quirk. “You brought the little listener to a raid with you?! Shouta! He’s a kid!”

Shouta just scoffed. “A kid who could honestly beat most heroes below the Top 50 in a fight, depending on their quirk. Trust me, if the kid couldn’t handle himself, I wouldn’t have brought him. He actually saved me from that explosion, I think.” He scowled down at the blankets in his lap, trying and failing to recall any further details past the kid yelling his name. “Hand me my phone.”

Hizashi quirked a brow at the request, but handed him his phone regardless. “It’s nice to hear you speak so highly of a student these days. Any progress on…well, the you-know-what?” He tried to hide it, but there was something hopeful in his eyes.

“Nothing yet, but it’s still early. Just needs some more convincing is all.” Ignoring his husband’s disappointed frown, he unlocked his phone, now sporting yet another crack in the screen, and hit call on one of his more…recent contacts. It rang for about 20 seconds, before a slightly distorted voice picked up.

“Eraser! That you?”

He couldn’t control the huff of relief that left his lungs. “Yeah kid, I’m good. Just woke up. Wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.” Hizashi’s eyes went wide. He pointed to the phone, whisper-shouting ‘You have the listeners phone number?! Can I say hi?’ Mouthing a ‘no’ back at the man, who pouted, he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“You had me worried! You, uh, weren’t looking too hot after the explosion.”

“Speaking of,” He continued. “What happened? I remember that chainsaw villain, then everything’s kind of a blur.”

“Chainsaw villain?!”

“Uh, is someone there with you?”

Glaring at his husband, he turned back to the phone. “Don’t worry about it.” He weighed his options in his head. He did want the kid to trust him, and if all went well, he’d find out anyways, so… “Just my idiot husband.”

“You’re MARRIED?! No way! Are they a hero too? Are they underground? Wait, if they were underground you probably wouldn’t tell me their hero identity, or their name. Are they just a civilian? OH what kind of quirk do they have?! Wait, no that’s probably really sensitive information too. Sorry, I just-”

He cracked a smirk as Hizashi looked at the phone, confusion written all over his face. He just waved the man off, before interrupting Null’s mumble-storm. “Focus, kid. The raid?”

“Oh! Right, sorry! That must’ve been annoying. Sorry!” The tone caused both heroes to frown. “Um, anyways, the raid went fine! So the chainsaw villain blew up the deep fryers, which I guess they forgot to empty when they took over the building, not smart. Um, so we got…most of the villains out of the kitchen, and Fatgum got the victims out of the basement. You collapsed when we got outside. No fatalities on our side, but, uh…some of the villains didn’t make it.”

“Understood. It’s unfortunate, but it’s part of the job. They chose this, Null, never forget that. You did everything you could, and you did it the right way, that’s all that matters.” The line was silent for a good 30 seconds, to the point where Shouta checked to see if he had hung up by mistake, but eventually Null’s voice returned.

“Thanks, Eraser.”

He grunted in response, before adding on. “You shouldn’t dwell on it. Not to say you shouldn’t care, that’s a slippery slope, but every hero has to find an in-between point. You can’t control the choices that others make, all we can do is save everyone we can.”

“Y-yeah, I know.”

“Listen, enough of that. Did you have any injuries? Where are you now?”

“Oh! Uh, no. Other than a few cuts and bruises, and some minor burns, I’m actually pretty okay! Me and H-uh, Knife-chan decided to get some ice cream!”

Sometimes, Shouta forgot that the ruthless, frustratingly-talented vigilante was a kid. He still had no clue how old he was, but a kid nonetheless. “Bring me some next time. Rest and recover, I’ll be in touch soon for details on the next raid. We’ll have to move quickly so they don’t cover their tracks and move the other groups.”

“Okay. You rest too, though! Don’t need your old man bones slowing us down.”

“Cheeky brat.”

“Bye Eraser!” *CLICK*

Huffing in an approximation of a laugh, Shouta set his phone on the table next to the bed, only to see Hizashi looking at him with an…oddly soft expression.

“What?”  The warm smile his husband sent him pissed him off, mainly due to the heat he felt in the back of his neck. “What is it?”

“You’d make a great dad, you know?”

He glared at Hizashi hard enough that he laughed and dropped the subject entirely. Completely irrational, that man.

Chapter Text

It was quiet today.

Izuku, Null, had gotten home in the early morning hours, sore, exhausted, and with a headache he’d likely be feeling for days. Frankly, he didn’t think he’d ever forced Pull like that, and he definitely wasn’t going to again any time soon. Even so, Himiko had pounced on him the second he’d climbed in through the window, congratulating him on a raid well done and shoving a small container of chocolate-chip ice cream in his face. The only downside was that they owned exactly zero spoons, so the two had eaten their frozen treat with various knives and passed out on the floor.

He’d woken up, hours later, with a dull migraine and far too much sun in his eyes, to an…oddly clean apartment? Usually, there were all manner of clothes, blankets, food containers, and yes, knives, littering the space. Parts of it got pretty dusty, too. Their extremely limited budget didn’t exactly have room for a duster or a vacuum cleaner.

Even so, apparently Himiko had woken up before him, and was now bustling around, picking things up and tidying their shared space. Usually, no offense to her, Himiko was kind of a slob? Izuku himself wasn’t the best at picking up after himself, but Himiko cared even less. It wasn’t really an issue, he didn’t mind doing most of the ‘chores’ and they barely had enough stuff to constitute an actual mess, but Himiko cleaning every square inch of the place out of nowhere was…concerning.

“Uh, Himi-chan? Whatcha doing?” The girl in question flinched in place, pausing with a rag in one hand and a pair of socks in the other. “Himi-chan?”

She seemed to ignore him and just…kept cleaning. Izuku watched her for a few minutes as she finished putting the laundry in a box with the word ‘hamper’ written on the side in marker, before padding up to her and tapping her on the shoulder.

She flinched hard, before whipping around. His eyes widened as the point of a knife was leveled at his throat by a shaking arm. “Himiko?! What-”

His voice choked out when he saw her face properly. Her eyes, normally a beautiful molten gold, were a dull yellow. Her skin was pale, and from the bruises under her eyes, she hadn’t slept much, if at all. Her hair was coming out of the buns she normally kept it in.

Despite the knife, he knew she wouldn’t really hurt him. Even so, something had to have happened, but she clearly needed space. He backed up a step. Two steps, then five. He got about ten steps back before her arm went limp at her side. She hiccupped, as tears started filling her eyes. He took a soft, tentative step towards her, reaching an arm out.

“Himiko? What’s wrong?”

Himiko kept sobbing, pulling her arms into her chest and shaking her head. Frowning, Izuku took a few more steps, careful to avoid any more knives.

“Why not? Himi, what happened? Why can’t you tell me?”

The sobbing just intensified, and his heart broke. He hadn’t seen her this upset since the day they met. Actually, this might be worse.

“Just-just go away!” Himiko stuttered out. Now fully curled into herself on the floor, her back against a wall.

“I’m not gonna go away, Himiko.” Izuku stated. “Let me help you-”

He had taken another step forwards, but got too close. Himiko lashed out with another knife, and only a reflexive use of Larceny saved him from getting cut. He rolled his eyes and tossed the knife over his shoulder. “Now that’s just rude. We agreed no stabbing outside of training.”

“You-you’ll hate me!” Himiko was in hysterics at this point, but Izuku was just confused.

“Himi-chan, I could never hate you!”

She looked up at him, now, eyes wide and tearful and afraid. Afraid of what? Of him? Couldn’t be. She knew what his quirk did and still spent time with him. So what-