Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is not what was supposed to happen. Even without using his quirk Mirai knew that this was not how this series of events should have played out. 

Eight out of ten heroes injured, two of which may not be able to continue with a career in heroics. All for a group of yakuza that should have been brought down with ease. 

The only reason Mirai was even informed on the case was because his agency was looking into a much larger and more organized Yakuza group. Not many hero agencies even bothered with yakuza groups anymore. Organized crime in gangs was basically non-existent and it was more likely than not that the group would just destroy themselves.

He was told this group they were after were newly formed. Dealing in what seemed to be petty crime under no real mission statement besides causing chaos and making a cheap buck. The only reason they even bothered with such a large group of heroes for the raid was because of the recent hero takedowns happening in the area. 

Heroes being specifically targeted and successfully deactivated suggested that there were hits going around Musutafu. Though it was unlikely those hits were coming from this group, the Musutafu police department wanted to take no risks and tasked a larger group. They even pulled in the number two hero. Though Endeavor’s presence was more of a statement that they were taking the hits on heroes seriously, hoping they would back down in fear of them roping All Might or the HPSC in to handle it. 

Though Mirai was informed, he hadn’t gone to the raid himself. This group was amateur and not connected to his own case with the Shie Hassaikai that he was working on. He hadn’t seen a reason to involve himself but offered help regardless. He had sent a sidekick and a work studies student of his to aid in the raid, not thinking much of it. Raids on smaller thug groups like this were common enough. Common enough for him to trust that his young student would be fine entrusted with his sidekick. 

Yet here Mirai stood, in the hospital wing, awaiting news on the young heroes he sent into battle alone. 

“Excuse me, are there any updates?”

The busy nurse looked at him exasperatedly shaking her head, “Not yet, Sir. I assure you we are all working tirelessly on making sure everyone is attended to and –”

“That’s quite alright,” Mirai interrupted, “I understand.”

She gave him a tight smile before walking away. She called out over her shoulder as she walked into the emergency wing, “ I’ll let you know when I know, Nigheye Sir!”

He nodded and took a seat, awaiting any news on his fellow heroes.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. The familiar, yet tired, voice of the detective called out to him, “Sasaki.”

“Sir!” He sat up quickly hearing his second year work studies student. 

“Mirio!” The boy ran to him, to his relief, seemingly unharmed. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Sir. I made it out with barely a scratch.” He said, flashing a bright smile. 

Mirai nodded, some of his anxieties settled. “And Centipeder?”

Mirio’s face falls but the detective answered before he got a chance to. “Centipeder is stable.”

That was all he had to hear for now. 

“What happened, Detective? I was told this was an inexperienced group. If I had known otherwise I would have sent in more heroes from my agency. Or even come myself.” His tone had come out angrier than he had meant it to but he figured that would get his frustrations across, regardless.

The detective grimaced at him, a newly forming bruise on his cheek standing out with the movement. “I understand, Nigheye. Let’s move to a different location, we can debrief somewhere more secluded.”

As they walk Mirai notices that his focus is lasered in on Mirio even more than usual. The idea that he had sent him to battle without the proper backup or preparation was crushing him. This was his fault, granted they seemed to be uninformed, still the responsibility of the heroes under his agency fell on him. 

The staff member the detective had talked to escorts them to a room in the hero ward. On the bed sits a raven haired man wearing a hospital gown. He has bandages around his eyes, leaving him blind, and a sling on his left arm. 

“This is Eraserhead, otherwise known as Aizawa Shota,” The detective announces,“He’s an underground hero who was apart of the raid group and if I’m not mistaken is also a teacher for young Togata here.”

Mirio nodded and moved toward the bed, the man in it looking their way as they entered.

“Sensei! Are you alright? Oh no, your eyes! Is your quirk—”

“My eyes are fine, Mirio. As is my quirk. They’re extremely irritated but I’ll be alright after a few days.” The hero lifted his chin, “who else is here, Tsukauchi?”

“Sir Nighteye. I was gonna debrief him on what we know so far, I figured you would wanna be a part of that too.”

The man on the bed hummed, shifting slightly. “Endeavor might want to be here as well. I was told he was pissed with the lack of information he’s gotten so far.”

“I don't think he’s gonna leave the surgical wing anytime soon.” Mirio said, looking at his feet frustrated. “One of his sidekicks was hurt pretty bad. I’m pretty sure he’s determined to watch over the hospital staff and intimidate them till X-haust is out of surgery”

“How lovely,” Nighteye draws. 

“How about Hizashi?”

“He should be here soon,” The detective answers. Eraserhead nods and the detective walks towards the foot of his bed, Mirai and Mirio following. 

Mirai pushes the second year student into the available chair and stands besides him nodding towards the detective to begin. 

“Alright, injury wise, here is what we know. On the infiltration team : Endeavor, X-haust, and Sandman. Endeavor is fine. His sidekick, X-haust, is in surgery with a collapsed lung and an injured leg. The poison and smoke he ingested has them worried but the last report said that he's stable. Then Sandman is pretty beat up, but will be fine. The attack team had Death Arms and Panther who were both victims to head wounds. Death Arms is okay and Panther was knocked out at the scene and was reported to be concussed. Stealth team had Eraser and Red Letter. Eraser as we can see is alright but suffered a shoulder and eye injury, while Red Letter has a broken jaw. And lastly we have the capture team, comprised of Centipeder, Lemillion, and Miss Blossom. Centipeder’s suffering from extreme dehydration and minor external injuries, but is stable.” 

Mirai let out a  breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relieved that his sidekick was truly gonna be alright.

“Lemillion here is of course alright, despite some scrapes and bruises. And as for Miss Blossom she will definitely be out of commission for a while, if not indefinitely. She was beaten up pretty badly but the damage to her quirk may be irreversible.”

Mirai shook his head, frustrated, “How did this happen?”

“They knew our moves. Knew our quirks,” Eraser said, “our weaknesses, our gear. They were completely prepared for us,” 

“An inside leak?” Mirai asks.

“Probable. They had specific gear to combat our specific quirks and fighting styles. Sound blocking made Sandmans’ quirk obsolete. They had the girl with the minor wild manipulation who was pushing X-hausts smoke back at him and keeping the hot air surrounding Endeavor. It's not public knowledge that X-hausts’ quirk doesn't keep him resistant to ingesting smoke or that Endeavor is quick to overheat, though either of those could be guessed at. They took out both of the muscles first with blows to the head, getting the pros with no obvious weakness out of the way.  Then the attack on me and Red Letter. Again, they fought technically against me, using multiple attackers at once and heteromorphic types. The web bomb made my capture weapon unusable and when it came to close combat they went to attack my eyes immediately. With Red Letter having a mental quirk they just went for brute force instead of a strategic attack. Every villain having salt water on them is unusual unless they knew that Centipeder would be there and knew that salt would make him weaker and slower. Then with Miss Blossom, attacking her hands specifically with the moletent asphalt. Again knowing her quirk is used from her palms is not only not public knowledge but also not obvious as to how she hides it in her fighting technique. Every sign points to them knowing who would be at the raid and an in-depth understanding of our quirks and fighting styles.”

“Except for me,” Mirios says, “They had nothing to combat my quirk or my fighting techniques. The group we faced focused their efforts on Centipeder and Blossom. They were on pure defense with me. I should have been able to fight better but when Blossom went down I went to help her, leaving Centipeder open and alone.” The boy looked regretful and guilty. It angered Mirai. As if this second year felt that he should have been able to take down all of the villains and keep his fellow comrades safe. 

He puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Mirio grits his teeth and looks at the detective. “During combat they had no tactics to use against me or gear to stunt my quirk. The villains weren’t prepared to face me at all.”

Mirai hums, “Is that because of Mirio’s rare power or them not knowing he was going to be there.”

“Neither.” The detective interrupts taking two books out from his inside trench coat pocket and throwing them on the bed at Aizawa’s feet. “It’s because Mirio’s not in here”

“What are those?” the boy asks.

Mirai looks at the detective suspiciously as he grabs one of the books. Eraser holds a hand out motioning for someone to hand him the other. 

The detective throws the book further up the bed for Eraserhead to take. As the man lifts the bandages over his eyes and squints down at the book, Mirai reads the words on the front of his own book aloud. “ Hero Analysis for the future. Vol 9 ” 

“An analysis book?” 

Tsukauchi grunts an affirmation.

The book is a normal composition notebook you can get from a convenience store. The words on the front are sprawled in messy Kanji and the book is torn and burnt with dog eared edges. It looks like something one would find in the backpack of an unkempt middle school student. 

He opens the book to a random page expecting to find an analysis with the same skill level as that. The first thing he sees is a poorly done drawing of the BMI Hero: Fatgum. The whole page is written without any structure, a complete unorganized mess of word vomit. Random thoughts squished in the margins and sentences overlapping others for lack of room on the page. 

‘Quirk: Fat Absorption. quirk can allow the user to absorb anything into his body. Including power! Any attacks that he falls victim to he can absorb completely. The more powerful the attack the more power he can absorb that can be redirected and used in his own attack (there's a limit to what he can take as far as power against him, of course). The quirk is well suited for defense but can be just as powerful on offensive with enough energy stored. The fat that is accumulated is used as stored energy and more mass for absorption. Theoretically if all that power is redirected into a counter attack then the user would revert to a much weaker (and slimmer) form. But that would be a very powerful attack! A finisher he’s probably never needed since I’ve never actually seen it, but also, when he's fighting a tougher opponent you can definitely see smoke coming off him which is most likely energy being expelled to defend even when he's absorbing! That's most likely where the limit would be which means against a powerful strength quirk he would need assistance as to not overuse his quirk which would leave him out of commission in a fight with no more stored energy. 

He would also have an advantage when it comes to the level of protection that his quirk would provide. From what I've seen, Fatgum is resistant to blades, bullets, bombs, and heavy attack quirks. Working as a shield, whatever touches him can absorb into him which has left many villains stuck and captured by the pro. 

Strengths: Along with all this Fatgum is an exceptional hero with a great situational awareness and fighting spirit. Lately it seems he’s changed fighting styles as older footage shows him as a loner and brawler type. He’s seemed to be adapting into a more defensive style and friendly character. (This seems to be working well for him with popularity as well seeing that he has moved into the sixty-second place on the JHBC.) 

Weaknesses: Although Fat absorption is a very strong power it does have some serious drawbacks. Fat absorption needs stored energy to work on the scale that Fatgum performs at. His quirk works because he has stockpiled a bunch of fat. If that fat was never accumulated or lost by redirecting that energy then he wouldn’t be able to absorb blows as he does now. That being said, an opponent can use an attack that thrives off of that fat and flesh that will force the BMI Hero to output energy as a stronger shield rather than absorbing it directly. This would leave him weak as the high level of body mass would decrease as it is consumed. If that attack is prolonged that will leave all of that stored energy to deplete, leaving nothing to defend. 

Quirk type: Stockpile

Strength: no accurate score (depending on energy stored) –avrg - 7

Speed: 2

Defense: no accurate score (depending on energy stored) –avrg - 9

Vitality: no accurate score (depending on energy stored)  –avrg - 8

Battle IQ: 5

Stamina: no accurate score (depending on energy stored)  –avrg - 7

Average Overall: 6.5

To his horror that was barely the beginning of it. The whole page was filled with signature moves, best counter attacks, best hero partnerships, worst hypothetical opponents, previous fight stats, quotes, and more.

He flipped more pages forward seeing more and more heroes and their in depth analysis. Far too in depth for a middle schooler hobby as he had previously thought. These were possibly commissioned analysis for specific heroes. Dangerous analysis. On par with the ones that hero agencies hire.

He continued flipping and scanning pages until one made him stop cold.

There on the page was his old partner and friend, All Might. Even worse, under his name it reads ‘analysis 39’.   

The sound of a page ripping has him looking towards Eraserhead on the bed. Half a page crumpled in his only available hand, the book lying face open on his lap. The half crumpled paper was an analysis for the voice hero: Present Mic. Eraser looked murderous as his quirk flared and he winced in turn. 

“Sensei! What-”

“M’fine, Mirio” the underground hero assured him.

“What’s wrong? What’s in those?

Mirai says nothing, just handing the student the notebook.

“How many of these are there, Tsukauchi?”

“Just the two. We recovered them after the raid.”

“Which villain?” Mirai grits out.

The detective shakes his head, “They said they got it from an outside source.”

“They’re commissioning these?!” Aizawa says, exasperated.

“If someone is selling this information they need to be brought in. These notebooks are most likely responsible for the hits and shutdowns of heroes in the Musutafu area. Responsible for the death of two heroes and the end of ten careers, now possibly twelve.”

“We know, Nighteye. We’re looking. We have our best looking at underground analysts right now”

“There’s no need, detective.”

Everyone snaps their eyes to the golden haired boy sitting down. 

“What do you mean, Lemillion?”

The boy turns the book towards the three men so they can read the page he had turned to. “Because they signed it.”

Sure enough on the line where Mirio is pointing reads, ‘ If found, please return to Midoriya Izuku’.

Chapter Text

Why was this happening? 

He threw his new notebook across his bedroom, frustrated. 

Izuku would say that he doesn't have much good going in his life. He has his mother, heroes, and his notebooks. He’s sure there's more. He just can't think of anymore at the moment. 

He buries his face in his hands groaning loudly. 

Why was this happening? 

Volume nine and ten of his hero analysis notebooks were gone. All of that hard work, gone. Over one-hundred analysis of new and seasoned pros gone forever. Sure it's all in his head. But there's a lot in his head. Which is why he wrote everything down. 

He looked over to the bottom row of his bookshelf. All of his analysis notebooks. He pretty much would have traded all of those for either volume nine or ten. 

Yes, the crayon analysis of All Might and Kacchan were nostalgic, but they were nowhere near the detail and quality that the newer volumes held. He had gotten so much better over the years.

He stood and walked across the room, picking up the new notebook. What was the point of redoing his analysis in this notebook if there's a chance it would go missing as well. 

The easy solution was to just not bring the notebooks with him anymore. Which was just as frustrating as losing them in the first place. Analyzing heros was about all he looked forward to lately. He loved looking for hero fights and being able to analyze them in person, in real time.

Unfortunately nothing ever went Izuku’s way, and his classmates had decided taking away his notebooks would be a fun way to pass the time. They were obviously running out of ways to make Izuku’s life harder. 

A couple months ago when he was walking home from school he had run into some of those classmates. He was rereading volume nine when he had been stopped by the four boys under the bridge on his way home.

In their never ending goal of making Izuku’s life miserable, they had taken the notebook and were teasing him about it before Suki decided to use his quirk on Izuku. It just went downhill from there.

Beaten and bruised Izuku started to make his way home again a couple hours later, after spending an embarrassing amount of time staring up at the sky in pain. He was already almost home when he remembered he had left his notebook under the bridge.

He rushed back but when he finally got back to the bridge the notebook was nowhere to be found. 

He looked everywhere, spending another hour searching the area. He even checked the pond and nearby trash cans before accepting that the notebook was truly gone. 

Izuku came to the conclusion that Tsubasa or Suki had stolen the notebook and he wasn't getting it back.

The next day he bought a new composition book at the convenience store and copied some of the newer entries from volume nine from memory. Then for the next two weeks he filled the new notebook, as volume ten, with heroes he saw fighting on the street, heroes from online videos, heroes found on debut hero forums, his favorites heroes (like All Might and Edgeshot), and occasionally his peers (mostly Kacchan).

He was careful this time. He never took the book out of his backpack during school and if he ever did take it out of his bag he made sure that it was put away as soon as he was done writing in it. He admits, he was desperate to not lose all the work he put into the new volume just because one of his classmates wanted to be cruel. So he was being careful. He was careful.

So why was volume 10 missing from his bag three days ago?

He had been so careful! He did everything right! He hadn’t expected them to go through his bag. They had never crossed that line before so he hadn’t even considered it.

Maybe it was his fault for not better preparing. He had left his backpack unattended long enough that someone could have easily gone through it. He just didn’t think anyone would . Who would go through that much effort to just try and piss him off? 

He was careful. 

But he could've been more careful. He had no one to blame but himself.

He sat at his desk opening the new notebook and grabbing a pen. He was going to start with one of the newer heroes that debuted this month. In the stolen volume ten, he had just done Trapezer and Chameleon. He could redo either of those since they were so fresh in his head. 

He sat there for a few minutes contemplating before deciding again that it didn’t matter. They would just steal this one again. He would have to leave it in his room and since he did most of his analysis when he was following hero fights he would be omitting more than half of the heroes he would have usually analyzed.  

Or he could wait it out. Surely they would get bored of looking through his bag and finding nothing. He would just wait a few weeks and then he could go back to normal, just no more using his notebook at school.

He could do that. This way he still got to do what he enjoyed. He closed the book and wrote on the front cover, ‘ Hero Analysis for the future. Vol 10.2’

He started with Chameleon and then did an analysis for Death Arms and Crust before he decided to call it a night. 

After he finished getting ready for bed, he went to go lay down but he felt a pull towards his desk. 

… I should just reread them before I lay down for the night. Real quick, then I’ll go to bed .

He moved to his desk rereading and revising the three entries. 

Two hours later Izuku had finished revising and accidentally added two more entries, Ryukyo and All Might. He yawned and looked at the time. It was well past midnight. 

He begrudgingly closed the book and turned off his light, heading to bed. 

Tomorrow will be better,  he decided. He’ll be tired but that's nothing new. He just had to get through two weeks of not having his favorite hobby around. He’ll be fine. 

The next morning he leaves his book on his desk. It was sadder knowing how much he'd enjoyed analyzing yesterday but this was for the best. 

He left for school in lower spirits than usual. 

“Wake up, Deku. You’re drooling on the desk, yah’ damn nerd.”

Izuku blinked up at the spiky blonde tiredly, “Morning, Kacchan”

He tsk’d at the green haired boy sitting down at his desk, “Shut up, Deku. You better not cause trouble today, Idiot. I’m tired of your bullshit”

Izuku hummed at him, rolling his eyes. Izuku never caused trouble. Trouble found him. He was the only target for the heat seeking missile that was trouble. Which is saying something for someone who was basically invisible to the world around him. 

While waiting for class to start he went for his notebook realizing he didn't have it. As he put his head down on the desk he realized he should probably have more hobbies than just the one. 

The problem was that it was just something that he's always been able to do before. It helped with his muttering , it let him nerd out on heroes, and he got to express his thoughts out loud. Well, on paper but he figured it worked the same.

He didn’t have any friends so being able to write his thoughts down was better than annoying his busy mother. He was also able to do it in class since it was quiet and didn’t bother anyone. Well, except for Kacchan, but he was bothered with anything that Izuku did. 

When class started Izuku realized he should’ve brought a book or something for entertainment that wasn’t class work. With the small breaks they were allowed and finishing work early he knew he’d be bored.

That was made more obvious later when his quiet mutterings finally annoyed Kacchan enough to say something. “Deku you bastard! Stop your damn muttering before I go over there and blow you up!”

He squeaked, covering his mouth with his hands, “Sorry, Kacchan. I didn’t realize it.”

The blonde glared at him, little explosions coming from his palms. 

“Midoriya, stop antagonizing Bakugou and finish your work please.” Their teacher called out as he turned a page in his book, too invested in his reading to even look up. 

Izuku huffed out a ‘yes, Sensei’, looking away from Kacchan. He picked up a pencil to doodle on his paper, already done with the assignment.

Kacchan had turned around but made sure his annoyance was clear with the tapping of his foot and the hunch of his shoulders. 

Izuku focused on that tapping instead of the clock. He was ready for this boring day to end so he can get home and finish his All Might analysis. He also decided he would get a book from the library so he wouldn’t be bored out of his mind tomorrow. 

About half an hour before school ended five people had walked into the small classroom. Izuku was very focused on attempting to draw Kacchan's hair perfectly that he didn’t notice until their teacher was quite literally spitting his coffee back into his mug and coughing loudly. 

At Mr. Satou’s desk there was their schools’ principal, a man with dark hair and a trench coat, two officers, and a man in a black jumpsuit with unkempt hair. The last man was staring at Izuku meanly. He quickly looked away, avoiding eye contact with the scary looking man.

With everyone in the room noticing Mr. Satou’s outburst, they also noticed the new additions. Everyone sat up a little straighter and the little chatter that was happening slowly dribbled out. Izuku thinks that's because there were cops with them. Some of his classmates have every right to be scared of cops, what with their after school activities including smoking, stealing, and vandalism.  

Izuku goes back to trying to make Kacchan's hair look less like a sea urchin and more like the explosion of blond spikes that it is. 

“Midoriya.” Mr. Satou calls, wide-eyed and coffee still dripping from his chin. 

Izuku looks up, surprised at being addressed only to see the cop with the ram mutation walking towards his desk with her partner close in toe. 

“Are you Izuku Midoriya?” she asks.

“Y-yes,” he answers, nervously.

She looks towards the trench coat man with a yellowing bruise on his cheek.  He looks at Izuku for a long second before he nods at her. 

She grabs his arm pulling him to stand up. Izuku complies quickly even as she moves him in front of her and collects his wrists in her hands behind his back.

“W-wha–”

“Hey! What the hell!” Kacchan shoots up, yelling. 

“Izuku Midoriya,” The man in the trench coat says, “You are under arrest for suspicion of aiding and conspiring with villains to take down heroes and engage in nefarious and illegal gang related activities.”

… what?

Izuku short circuits, not believing what's happening. The clicking of the handcuffs securing his hand behind his back is what really solidifies it for him. Yep, this is really happening. 

“What the hell did you do, Deku?” Kacchan asks, darkly. 

Izuku is beyond himself, feeling like each breath is harder and harder to take in. 

“I-I… I”

“Deku’s working with villains?”

“Guess he finally broke.”

“It was only a matter of time, honestly.”

“My mom said that was gonna happen. Or he would kill himself”

“Kinda wish it was the ladder. It would be less sad. Like ending the suffering.”

“Bout time they got him.”

“Cleaning up the community”

“That's mean, Nukui”

“Quirkless freak”

“Villain”  

He couldn't breathe. The cop behind him started to put pressure on his back, trying to move him forwards. 

He couldn’t move. He was frozen. He wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t breathing. 

“ We should’ve bet what would happen first, Tsubasa”

“Yeah, I could’ve robbed Onuki of 15,000 yen”

“I was sure he would do us all a favor and kill himself”

“Enough!”

Izuku flinched at the booming voice. The whole class sat straight as needles and instantly quieted down. The man in the jump suit’s eyes were glowing red as he stared out at the middle school class angrily. 

After a few seconds of the class being quiet as if scolded, the man focused back on Izuku who was staring at him terrified, tears welling up in his eyes and teeth clenched so hard he feared he would break a tooth. 

The man closed his eyes and breathed out a long breath. When he opened his eyes they were no longer glowing and he was looking at Izuku. 

Then he began walking over to Izuku.

He felt his heart accelerate. 

Why? Why is he walking toward me? Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble? What did I– Why–  Is he gonna–

“Breathe, kid”

…

...

Breathe?

“Midoriya. You need to breathe.”

Breathe. He needed to…

“Izuku! You with me kid?” A large, warm hand landed on his shoulder breaking him from his panicked trance. 

A jagged breath breaks through his body and he feels his head clear and painfully ache. The man squeezes his shoulder gently and holds eye contact with him. 

He doesn't look reassuring or kind, but still he asks, “You okay, kid? You have to breathe.”

Izuku’s chest rises and falls quickly as he tries his best to comply. “I-I k-know.”

Another deeper breath and he can smell the distinct scent of nitroglycerin in the air. A quick glance to Kacchan and all he can see is the blonde’s hair covering his eyes with tense shoulders and the almost invisible smoke coming off his steaming hands. 

The man pulls Izuku forwards and this time he goes with him. He thankfully doesn’t drop his hand from Izuku’s shoulder as they walk out of the classroom, keeping him grounded. It's easier to not lose his breath now even as every step brings him that much closer to a police cruiser. 

Why was this happening? What did I do? No. What do they think I did? Worked with villains? Do they think I am a villain? I’m not. What did I do? This is a mistake. I didn’t do anything! This is a mistake, please. 

Tears fall from his eyes freely but silently now, as they walk. The hand on his shoulder squeezes again as soon as his thoughts start to panic once more . Izuku briefly wonders if the man can read minds or if he just coincidentally did it by accident. 

When they make it outside Izuku is horrified to see five police cars and a black van in front of his middle school. There were at least a dozen cops standing guard as though they were here for a dangerous grade-A villain. 

Did they think Izuku was a dangerous grade-A villain?

He started shaking, embarrassingly. Despite his efforts to stop he couldn’t control it. He thinks the raven haired man wouldn’t have noticed the action if he wasn’t touching Izuku. 

Mercifully the man slightly pulls Izuku closer to himself and says quietly, “Just look down, kid. I’ll guide you to the car. You're fine.”

More tears fall from his eyes and he nods his head, doing as he was told. He looks down, trusting the scary stranger to get him to the car. He closes his eyes and tries to be anywhere but here. 

He hears the car door open and panic floods his senses once again. He turns to look at the man wide-eyed, and scared. Why he thought this stranger would help him, he didn't know. Still he was just scared, and he turned hoping to find sympathy or comfort in the charcoal eyes that stared back at him.

The man kept that stoic look on his face, but looked almost conflicted as he nodded towards the car behind Izuku. “Watch your head, kid.”

Izuku’s heart broke and he felt himself unconsciously tuck inwards as he turned towards the car again. Still he remembered the man's earlier words. 

‘You have to breathe’

Izuku took a deep breath as he stepped into the car, hands still locked in handcuffs behind his back. 

Before the man closed the door he squatted down and looked Izuku in the eyes. Immediately gaining his attention,  “This is scary. It’s okay to be scared, okay?”

Tears flowed down his face as he nodded and his voice broke as he answered back, “oka-y”

“Okay. I’m not telling you I’m on your side, alright. I’m not defending you or your actions. alright?”

The man waited for a response. Even though Izuku wasn’t sure what actions the man was referring to, he nodded his head, agreeing.

“I’m not here for you, or in your corner. But I won’t let you drown, okay?” 

Izuku wasn’t sure he really understood what the man meant by that but he instantly agreed, taking whatever comfort he could grasp at. 

“Okay.” He answered, voice small and broken. 

The man nodded back at him. “I’ll be there the whole time. You’re gonna be okay. Okay, Izuku?” 

His lip quivers embarrassingly when he answers and his voice quivers with a sob, “okay.”

The man makes the same conflicted look for a second before he stands and closes the door, turning around to talk to the trench coat man and ram horned cop. 

Izuku sits in the car alone, muffled voices outside sounding like white noise. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s alone and scared and they arrested him and—

Breathe. 

He takes in another jagged breath and when he lets it go he’s sobbing. Unable to hug his body he leans against the door as comfortably as possible and cries, sobs racking his body painfully. 

He cries and cries, holding on to his only shred of hope so far, ‘ I won’t let you drown’

He cries repeating it over and over in his head, telling himself it will all be alright.

Chapter Text

This is not what he expected. 

Sure, when they looked up the name Izuku Midoriya they were all not expecting to see a middle schooler. Rationally thinking, it made sense. Without reading the analysis in the notebooks, they look like a middle schooler had done them. Messy drawings, occasional illegible handwriting, dogeared edges, torn pages, a burnt and dirty cover. 

What didn’t make sense was the content that was in those notebooks. That was not work that could be done by an average middle schooler. And if Izuku Midoriya was an exceptional middle schooler or had an analysis or IQ type quirk, that would make it more rational. 

But Izuku Midoriya was not the exceptional. According to his grades and quirk status he was below the average middle schooler. Quirkless, low-to-average grades, frequent fighting and misconduct in class. He seemed to be a grade-A delinquent. 

So no. This was anything but rational.

“Yeah so what. It’s not illegal to buy a book off some slum kid, is it? ”

Looking through the one way glass, he could see the irritation on the cat officer's face. His eye slightly twitching as he continued his questioning of the gang member. 

“This is doing nothing for my headache, detective.”

Tsukauchi hummed, “There's a new pot of coffee in the break room”

Shota nodded but didn’t make any move towards said coffee, waiting to finish the interview. 

“Look you got nothing on me, Officer Whiskers .”

Shota scoffed. Not true . Nobuyuki Shimoda was booked for assault, battery, theft, gang related activity, attempted murder, drug possession, and ten other charges that would have him on the wrong side of an interrogation. 

“As. I. said, Mittens. It’s not illegal to purchase a handwritten nifty little book. ”

And that's where the waters get a little murky.

It’s not illegal to buy a hero analysis book, yes. But the law says that being in possession of or creating/purchasing unlicensed gear that can hinder or harm a hero or officer of the law is illegal. Sure, the law was aimed at the creation and distribution of black market support gear but they could define it to whatever they wanted if they really tried.

And if this was just some kids' little ramblings written down in a journal then they wouldn’t even bother. 

Unfortunately they weren't. These books were basically ‘how to harm heroes 101’ guides. With the level of in depth analysis there was no getting around the fact that they were able to be seen as illegal. And both books being found in possession of yakuza that had been targeting heroes throughout the city damns it even more.

“I’m not saying anything else without a lawyer, Kitty. Now you got a litter box around here or do I shit in the chair? ”

Tsukauchi sighs, frustrated, “and there goes that interrogation.”

“You’re gonna have to bring the kid in.”

He groans rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Arresting a child is not something I actually want to do, Eraser”

“He’s hardly a child.” Nighteye cuts in, walking out of the observation room turning towards the detective's office. 

Shota and Tsukauchi follow him out, the tired detective responding to the pro-hero, “He’s fourteen, Sasaki.”

“He’s a middle schooler. Almost a highschooler. He’s old enough to know better than to sell analysis like that to villains.” The taller man says, holding the door open for them. 

Shota rolls his eyes, leaning against the back wall and crossing his arms, “Well I’m not currently of the opinion the notebooks were sold with ill-intent.”

“Oh please, Aizawa. What happened to thinking rationally?” Nighteye asks as he takes the seat opposite the detective. 

An unfortunate quirk flaw that could leave the user without a core sense. Although not debilitating, if true, could deactivate the voice hero temporarily.

No. Stop. Think…

“I am thinking rationally. The kid labeled the damn thing. It's irrational to think he would’ve left his name on it if he knew they were villains. The probability of them being found is too high. He’s too smart for that, obviously.”

“On the contrary,” Nighteye shifted the chair so both Shota and Tsukauchi were in view, “looking at it from the view of his obvious intellect. If he was selling the notebooks to villains then he would know there was a probability they’d be found. Labeling them makes him seem innocent. What are the chances we ask the villains where they got them and they rat out the kid immediately? Putting his name on them makes it seem accidental.”

“They say ‘for the future’ on them.” Shota deadpans.

“He’s quirkless,” Sasaki answers, flatly. “He’s smart, like you said. Do you really think he believes he’ll be a hero in the future? He looks like he weighs eighty pounds soaking wet,” The hero says, pointing to the open file on the detective's desk. “Be realistic.”

“He put his name on it, Nighteye.” Shota says, exasperated. 

He rolls his eyes, “To me it looks like he made the notebook seem like a recreational thing. The way the notes are written, the annotations, his name, the ‘for the future’; It all seems like it was made for his eyes only, and maybe it was. If it was, he still sold them to villains. His mother is a single parent and a nurse, I wouldn’t doubt he set his morality aside for some cash. There’s no accident here, Eraserhead. After selling the first book to someone as shady as Shimoda and then seeing that local heroes are being deactivated. You think he would have realized what was going on, but then he goes and sells them another volume.”

That was a surprise as well. According to the multiple accounts they have from different yakuza members, the books were not commissioned from Midoriya, just bought off of him. The boy had reportedly seeked the villains out, wanting them to have the information in exchange for a couple thousand yen. 

“But if it wasn't,” Nighteye continues, “then the notebook was fabricated to look like it was made for personal use in an attempt to play innocent. It's not far-fetched with how smart he is. It's probable that we would find it and the best way to hide from the fact that it was sold and used to harm heroes was to pretend that was never the intent. It’s not like this kid is a saint. Look at his record. He ’s been caught doing plenty wrong before, it's not much of a stretch. It’s just difficult to admit that this might be the case because of his age. To be blunt, we need to remove the fact that he’s fourteen and realize that this ability is dangerous. Two people are dead. Twelve may never be able to put the cape back on again. There are ten volumes, maybe more, and we don’t know if he sold more to other groups. Bringing him in is non-negotiable. Think of the people who are hurt and who could be targeted next. It's too dangerous to leave Midoriya Izuku to his own devices.”

“Problem child or not, do we really think that some kid would stoop this low. Villanry doesn't typically start at fourteen. It’s irrational to say we should separate his age as if that's not important. The chance that this is just a misunderstanding is just as high as it being purposeful.”

Nighteye crosses one leg over the other leaning forward in thought, “I wouldn’t put it past someone who’s been given the short end of the stick to try and knock others down with them. He has a great talent but will never be taken seriously because of his quirk status. In this society he won’t make it far without hurting some along the way. This is how villains are made. By the cards that were dealt not being fair and choosing to do something about it, whether or not it's right. I think Izuku Midoriya would take down as many heroes as he can simply because he can't be one.”

Shota feels his anger flare for the boy. “Are you kidding me? You don’t even know him.”

“I know how the quirkless are treated and seen in this society. It's enough to drive someone to villany. I’m sure Midoriya doesn't even see it as such, even though two people are dead. Sure he wasn’t the one to pull the trigger but he seems to have loaded the gun.”

“You’re angry about something else, Nighteye. You can't possibly think this child is this sinister and vengeful without even talking to him.”

Nighteye leveled Shota with an icy stare, “And you're not angry, Eraserhead? You read that page on Present Mic and felt nothing at all? He’s in volume 10 as well, you know. He got multiple analyses, long ones at that. Of course I’m angry, you're going to say that you're not?”

Shota opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly. 

This lack of protection seems to be quite common in many quirks, but because the knowledge is held by its user, not well known. A quirk having the ability to harm its users because no natural guarding/ protection is what makes support gear and smart costume design integral to heroic careers; although that means that once that gear is broken it can leave the hero vulnerable. 

Stop. Rational. Think rationally. 

In this case, Presents Mic-

No. No. No. Stop, Shota. 

… quirk allows him to amplify his voice to deafening levels,-

… rational

… possibly leaving him deaf as well. 

… 

Was he not angry? No, he was. For sure he was. Reading those words now burnt into his memory forever. The rage he felt in that hospital room was beyond anything he thought capable. The in depth ways one could harm his husband so carelessly written, as if it wasn’t dangerous information. 

… Like Kacchan’s quirk, there's no built-in safety/ guard. Kacchan has gotten used to it over the years but bigger moves would for sure hurt and possibly cause permanent damage, depending on how far he goes. With Present Mic, who has been in the field for years now, those limits must have been reached or at least hit enough that damage has already been done. 

Although many hero’s support gear aids them, some gear is used to mend flaws in a quirk that would hinder hero work. In this case Present Mic’s directional speaker mends the flaw of not being able to direct his ‘yell’ in a specific direction, and his hearing aids/ blockers help him hear and dampen the damage his own quirk does to him. 

Both of Present Mic’s gear is integral to his fighting and protection. If either were damaged or destroyed it would leave the hero unable to fight safely or adequately. (+ possibly his glasses, but that's just a guess with not much structure behind it. They can just as well be stylistic. But if they’re practical then the voice hero may have a vulnerability in two senses that can be provoked with broken gear)

A worst case scenario for the hero would of course be an underground location, as his quirk doesn't travel as well underground, leaving its effectiveness significantly cut; and a highly populated area. In a highly populated area the voice hero needs to proceed with even more caution as his quirk doesn't always need precision to be extremely harmful. 

In cases like this, gear that heroes heavily rely on can become a crutch that makes it hard to perform without. If the directional speaker was damaged or destroyed in a populated area then the hero would be forced to forgo the use of his quirk as to not harm civilians. 

These crutches are why the idea of heroes who operate with mostly support gear w/ weaker quirks have been highly criticized and strategically halted from joining the hero sphere, usually more seen with vigilanties (who don’t seem to last as long as more traditional vigilantes)

Of course, Present Mic is a very skilled hero who mostly never works alone so these instances are highly unlikely and wouldn’t be detrimental to his career while fighting rudimentary villains. But his fighting style and dependance on gear because of quirk flaws does open a larger discussion on heroes who tow the line of using gear or needing gear.

The detective cleared his throat loudly, gaining Shota's attention. 

“Your quirk, Eraser…”

He realized then that his hair was standing off the back of his neck and his eyes stung painfully. He quickly blinked, deactivating erasure.

Rationally. Think rationally.

… 

He couldn’t. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Hizashi hurt. All the weaknesses that only his closest comrades and teachers know about, being shared amongst villains and people who intend to kill. He sees the headlines about The Wind Hero: Torpedo and the sidekick Black light and sees Hizashi’s heroic moniker instead. No matter how hard he tries he can’t separate his personal attachments from the facts laid in front of him. 

Even so, Nighteye could be right. This kid could be the mastermind the future seer thinks he is. It's just as plausible even if it's improbable. They won’t know till they bring him in. 

“Detective, it's up to you. Us arguing about conjecture will get us nowhere.” Shota says, pulling his messy hair up. 

Tsukauchi thinks for a minute with his head in his hands. 

“We will bring Izuku Midoriya in tomorrow. I need to talk to the chief about this. Convince him to do it my way. With how they’ve all been talking they want to make an example of the person behind the hits. Hopefully, knowing Midoriya's age and status we’ll be able to handle this more discreetly.”

“Yes, that would be most preferred.” Nigteye says getting to his feet. “If this was done in an attempt to bring down as many hero’s as possible then the boy may think all the attention is affirmation to his work. Less fanfare would be preferable.”

He makes his way to the door, curtly nodding toward Shota and turning slightly to the detective, “I’ll be back tomorrow after-noon. I have to handle some things at my agency. I need to delegate some tasks to my sidekicks and move some schedules aside. I’m assuming this will be taking an unpleasant amount of time.”

“Okay, Sasaki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nods, walking out. “Keep me updated, please”

Shota sighs moving towards the chair that was previously occupied, “Well he's a delight to work with.”

The detective grimaces, “He’s diligent. But otherwise…”

“A pain?”

“More or less”

Shota hums, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“Your headache?”

He just shakes his head in response.

“There's still coffee in the break room.”

“It's cold now”

“It's still caffeine”

Shota nods, taking his leave as well. 

“Microwave still busted?”

“Mhm,” The detective draws, beginning to type away on his computer.

Shota grunts in acknowledgment.

“See you tomorrow, Eraser. Or tonight, based on how your shift goes.”

He waves, leaving in search of cold coffee. 

The rest of the night, thoughts of Izuku Midoriya’s analysis haunt him and he ends his shift early to hold his husband for a few hours before he has to be back at the station tomorrow. 

Chapter Text

“He’s shaking.”

“He’s crying, actually.”

“He’s gonna pass out.”

“We should have expected this, the quirkless are frail.”  

Three judgmental eyes glare at the officer that had spoken. He looks panicked, catching the hateful eyes of the detective and two heroes.

“I- I mean look at ‘im, boss. The kids kinda pathetic”

He wasn’t wrong. Midoriya Izuku did look quite pathetic at the moment. Eyes locked on his quivering hands that were handcuffed to the table. Involuntary tremors were raking his body and he was basically a faucet with the non-stop tears pouring down his cheeks. 

The detective sighed, “That’s not because he’s quirkless, Officer Koono. I’m sure it has something to do with being arrested mid-class and hauled out to a bunch of officers and squad cars.”

The boy hiccuped then, and it sounded painful. 

“I mean… It could also be the quirklessness,” The officer said, cringing at the horrible noise. 

Shota felt his annoyance triple.

“You’re not going in there if you can’t conduct your behavior professionally, Officer.” Nighteye monotonely drawed. 

“I didn’t say anything wrong! And that’s not up to you, four eyes.”

The ram-horned officer, Sakatsume, snorted. 

“Enough,” Tsukauchi said, frustrated. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Koono, Sakatsume, can you two please get the case file and notebooks from the conference room? They should both be in a box labeled ‘Midoriya’.”

Koono nodded and Sakatsume rolled her eyes following the taller man out. 

“You should have a talk with your officers on quirk discrimination.” Nighteye suggested, returning his stare to the boy. 

Tsukauchi shook his head, “This is how they all are. It's normal. They don’t see it as wrong or quirkiest. Heteromorphic types get less shit than quirkless do.”

“Quirkless are rarer.” 

“Mhm.”

“Hopefully they take a while to find the case files.” The raven haired man yawns.

“They should. The box is in my office, not the conference room.”

“Great so we have, what? Ten minutes?”

“Twenty if they’re as stupid as they are bigoted.” 

The detective groans looking at Shota, “Eraser, please be civil. I need this to all go as smoothly as possible without my officers and you all fighting amongst each other.”

The underground hero only shrugs.

“We should talk about th-”

“I’m going in there.” Shota interrupts Nighteye, heading for the door of the interrogation room. 

“No!” Both of them answer.

“Eraserhead, we need to talk about how we want to play this while it's just us three.”  The taller says. 

“No. You two can decide what you want to ask him, I’m going in there now.”

“Not yet, Eraser.” Tsukauchi calls. 

Shota stops at the door, annoyed. “He’s about to pass out. I’m just going to-”

“What? Reassure him? Like you did at the school?”

“You weren’t even there, Nighteye. And yes, that's exactly what I will be doing.”

“You do realize he’s under arrest. That he’s not one of your students for you to coddle.”

“I do not coddle my students.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“For your information, most of them have been expelled.”

“What happened to being civil?”

“It’s hard to believe he’s the one who’s caused all this trouble.”

All three men turned their heads to the golden haired boy in the corner who was intently watching Midoriya still. 

Mirio walked up to the glass, “Sir, do you really think he did all this? He’s just some kid. Maybe the notebooks were labeled wrong.”

“Midoriya was confirmed by Shimoda and Uemura, Mirio”

“He just looks so scared.”

The boy hiccuped again. 

“I'm going in there.”

“Aizawa,” The detective warns.

“He can’t talk to us if he passes out, move Nighteye”

The taller stands in front of the door glaring down at the underground hero. “We can’t just rush into this without a plan, Eraserhead. We are half under the assumption this is all a ruse, you egg that on if you go in there treating that boy like victim rather than a villian”

“I believe this,” he gestured to the mess of shivering green hair that was Midoriya, “Is genuine.” Another painful hiccup that made him want to cringe echoed through the room, further proving his point. “That’s not a ruse .”

“Your belief gets us nowhere” 

“But yours does?”

“Stop it, both of you.” The detective sighs, “Nighteye is right. We need to approach this smart. And Eraser is right too. We still have to treat this situation with compassion, Midoriya is only fourteen.” Nighteye rolls his eyes and Shota grits his teeth. “Once we get the case file we can go in. Does anyone want to spearhead the inter-”

“I do.” They say together

“You're too attached.”

“I don’t have an agenda”

“Umm, Sir. The officers are coming back,” Mirio announces, half his head returning from the solid wall.

“I’ll lead,” Nighteye decides, “Tsukauchi and Officer Sakatsume will join”

Tsukauchi rubs his temples, “that works for me”

“I’m going with you”

“Eraser, just stay with Lemillion”

“Fine,” Nighteye agrees, “But you’re not saying anything. Even if this is a misunderstanding the boy will be fine. It's safer to air on the side of caution and assume he meant to cause irreparable harm. He doesn’t need you in there holding his hand and defending his actions.”

Shota scowls at the concept that ‘ he’ll be fine ’, as if this wasn’t, potentially, extremely traumatizing. He doesn’t say anything to disagree with the seer but doesn’t agree to not speak. 

He’ll let Midoriya defend himself without helping him; but when it comes to the boy panicking again, he’s prepared to stop the interrogation. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t let him drown. Guilty or not, Midoriya is still a child. 

If it’s true that those analyses were meant to deactivate as many heroes as possible, then they’ll handle that accordingly. They didn't have to let the boy struggle or work himself up again. 

“We found it, detective,” Officer Koono announces, holding the box up as the two enter. “Sorry about the wait, someone must’ve accidentally moved it to your office.”

“A shame, really.” Nighteye says dully

“How unfortunate,” Shota mumbles out.

The blonde, ram-horned officer glares at the heroes. She crosses her arms, annoyed, “Cap wants to talk to you, detective.”

The tired man in question groans, scratching the back of his head, “alright then”

“Do you want us to wait?” The taller hero asks.

“No, no,” Tsukauchi waves his hands as he walks out, “You four can handle it without me. I should be back soon.”

Nighteye nods, looking at Mirio, then Shota. “Allright, everyone, let's go.”

Chapter Text

1,312,... 1,313,...1,314,...1,315,...1,316…1,31-

*hiccup*

He finally gives up, frustrated, laying his head down on the cold table. His hands were handcuffed to said table, making his current position anything but comfortable 

But Izuku had to admit the cold metal made his aching head feel a bit better. He turned his face so his cheek could lay flat against it. A small puddle slowly formed beneath his cheek, the waterworks slowing down but never stopping. 

I won’t let you drown.

Was Izuku drowning? He felt like he had been in this room for hours, just crying and shaking, trying desperately to catch his breath. But he wouldn’t say he was drowning. Struggling? Definitely. But not drowning.

Whatever that even means.

—‘You are under arrest for suspicion of aiding and conspiring with villains to take down heroes and engage in nefarious and illegal gang related activities’ —

Aiding and conspiring with villains? Taking down heroes? Gang related activities?

Izuku hadn’t done any of those things. He loved heroes. He wanted to be a hero. He would never work with villains.

So why did they think he was?

He wished that someone had actually talked to him, rather than be sitting alone in this room for however long it’s been. Maybe the scary man in the black jumpsuit would’ve explained. If Izuku would’ve bothered to ask, that is. If he wasn’t struggling to breathe and shaking and acting overall completely useless. 

The door clicked and Izuku sat up so fast his hands pulled painfully at the handcuffs making his wrist ache. 

Four people walked in. A very tall man Izuku had never seen before, the blonde ram-horned cop who had handcuffed Izuku earlier, the dark haired officer with the scar on his chin, and then –to Izuku's relief– the man in the black jumpsuit. 

The man adorned a strange looking white-gray scarf that he didn’t have earlier and his hair was pulled up into a loose bun. He has a bored and indifferent expression which Izuku preferred to the stoic and scrutinizing glares he received earlier. 

He walked to the wall left of Izuku and slouched against it, crossing his arms over his chest and stared back at the boy. 

He seemed so uninterested and detached as he stared. Izuku thinks that this man would easily blend into the background in a normal setting. Even with the strange scarf thing, he didn’t stand out much. He wondered if that was because of his dark color scheme or his nonchalant attitude. The only reason he’d held Izuku’s attention the first time he saw him was because he’d been glaring at him.

The look he gave Izuku now was much softer, even if it was just because he was uncaring. The man raises an eyebrow at him before nodding towards the front of the room. 

He slowly looks towards where the man had gestured, keeping eye contact for a second longer until he turns his head and is looking into a pair of very upset yellow eyes. 

He jolts slightly remembering there were other people in the room.

 Sitting in the two chairs in front of him is the tall man with yellow eyes and glasses, and the blonde officer who is still glaring at him. 

Maybe her face is always like that…  Or she just doesn’t like me…  Either is possible. 

Izuku gets the strange feeling that he had seen the man before, but couldn’t put his finger on where. 

Standing behind the two is the dark haired officer, with the wide build and white scar. He was looking at Izuku, as if disgusted.

Izuku then remembers that he’s spent the last few hours crying non-stop and probably looks horrible. He sniffs and does his best to wipe his face on his arm while still handcuffed . He uses his sleeve to wipe away the small puddle of water on the table that was evidence of his pathetic crying.

“Midoriya.”

The man in front of him calls, exasperated. 

Had he been calling me? For how long?

“M’sorry. Yes? Um, s-sir?”

He rests his hand on the table, fingertips touching while he looks down at Izuku through his glasses. 

“Izuku Midoriya, do you know why you're here?” He asks in a monotone, serious voice. 

Had this man ever smiled a day in his life? 

He shakes his head and the man raises an eyebrow at him. The taller’s open and harsh scrutinization of the boy makes him feel exposed and vulnerable. If it weren't for literally being stuck where he was, he might have crawled under the table like a child. 

“I uh-, I know why they told me why I was here. What the man said in the um- classroom… before.”

The air fills with an awkward silence as they all just stare at Izuku. He glances over to the man leaning against the wall every now and then. He still just watches the boy’s interaction with the other, seemingly uninterested. 

The green haired man lifts his head slightly and his glasses flash in the light, making something click in the boy's memory.

Oh wow.

“This would be regar-”

“I know you!” Izuku interrupts loudly, a smile coming to his face involuntarily. That severe and demanding stature, the green and yellow hair, the harsh gaze he had seen on tv plenty of times. “Your Sir Nighteye! The former sidekick of All Might! So cool! I’ve watched you on The old Might days and the reruns on The hero channel! There's not much footage of you working daylight but I saw you and All Might’s fight against Cobrastaus and Death Rose ! It was awesome!”

He was fast approaching incoherent muttering but was too excited to hold his tongue. This man had worked with All Might. He’d talked to All Might. This was probably the closest to All Might Izuku would ever get. Sure, the circumstance was unfortunate but he wasn’t gonna waste an opportunity to interact with such an awesome hero. 

“The way you used your quirk to dodge Death Rose’s poison vines, even when they were moving so fast was amazing! And All Might brawling with Cobrastaus and using a smash to keep the falling rubble away from civilians and to KO him! It was one of the only times you were seen fighting more than just behind the scenes. All Might was quoted saying you were the brains of the operation which is so cool! I have so many questions, why did you stop working with All Might? I want to ask about foresight! But not in detail of course because that would be bad and you can't say too much about it because its ambiguity is important and that would, really, be bad. I have so many theories though. Of course they’re all dependent on the time limit which is the most relevant to confirming or debunking those theories. Also about your support gear and its properties and effectiveness in the event of a drawn out, multiple opponent fight. And the choice factor of your quirk along with its limit. The drawbacks of mental quirks vary from user to user, I wonder wha-”

“ Kid!”

Izuku flinched at the voice as it broke through his rant. He looked over to the man leaning against the wall. 

Half his face was hidden by the scarf thing as he raised an eyebrow.

Tsk’ , the dark haired officer snorted. “At least we know he's guilty.”

Guilty?

 The blonde officer was glaring at him meanly and he blushed looking down. “S-sorry,” he sniffed.

Nighteye looks down at him skeptical as Izuku tries to cower inward, embarrassed. He pulls the box in front of himself and takes out some of its contents, setting them on the table so Izuku could see them. 

“Midoriya, do these belong to you?”

Izuku leans forward to inspect the two books the hero set down. Or rather, notebooks…

His notebooks. 

My notebooks! 

Izuku feels relieved for a blissful moment. His notebooks weren’t missing. His best analysis, his work that he was the most proud of was still there. Not destroyed, hidden, or lost. He was so relieved. Though, that relief quickly turns to confusion. 

Why do the police have my notebooks? Did Tubasa or Suki not take it? Did they give it to the police? Why?

“Midoriya.”

Sure his analysis were seen as creepy, but not illegal. Is that what all this is about? His analysis?

“Izuku!”

He blinks, realizing he had stalled for a moment too long. 

“Seriously?”, the dark-haired officer asks, annoyed at Izuku’s repeated lack of attention.

“You gonna stay with us, kid?” 

Izuku nodded at the scarf man looking back at Sir Nighteye apologetically. He swallowed nervously, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry. Yes.”

A third eyebrow raise at Izuku from the pro-hero had him scrambling to explain.

“Y-yes. I mean. No, I mean, yes.” He closes his eyes, taking a breath to collect himself enough to speak.  “Yes, Sir, the notebooks are mine.”

Nighteye nods and the dark-haired officer laughs. 

“Well, the kid’s making it real easy for you— Ain't he, Hero. I mean, what an interrogation. Good thing we brought you two in.”

Nighteye just waves his hand dismissively at the man behind him while the blond officer sits up and crosses her arms. Scarf man rolls his eyes, boredly, half his face still hidden. 

 Izuku was just confused. He would say he’s pretty smart—or— well, not dumb— but this was going right over his head. 

“We already knew they were his, Koono.” The ram horned officer says, bored, still glaring at him.

That has to hurt at this point. 

He looks at her sheepishly and tries to, politely, ask for an explanation. “Um, I’m sorry, what is-”

“Shut up.” She spits out. 

Izuku flinches slightly at the unexpected harsh tone. Feeling like he was chastised by a teacher he looks down at his hands and just waits for someone to address him directly. 

There's an awkward silence that fills the room for a minute. There's some shuffling and when Izuku dares to glance up at the two people in front of him he sees that the ram-horned officer was no longer there. 

She had taken the dark-haired officer's place behind Sir Nighteye. The man now stood by the table, in between Izuku and the hero. And taking her place was the scarf man. He sat leaning forwards on the table, more relaxed than the hero next to him who sat straight up with perfect posture. 

“Midoriya, are you aware of the outcome of the raid that happened three days ago near the market district?”

No, he wasn't. He didn’t really even hear about the raid on the local yakuza besides eavesdropping on a couple of classmates talking about it yesterday. 

Apparently the attack had happened early in the morning a few days ago. The little news coverage he had seen said that there were zero civilian casualties and that the heroes had arrested the entire group. The overall consensus for the city was that everyone felt just a little bit safer knowing that the group was gone. But, comparatively, it wasn’t exactly headline worthy news. 

Of course, it was interesting to Izuku. He had heard that Endeavor was there and the new upcoming rookie, Miss Blossom. But after minimal digging it had seemed like there was nothing officially confirmed besides the arrest and lack of casualties. Not even a photo of Endeavor or any other hero was taken. 

He shook his head in lieu of verbally responding, not wanting to be upbraided again. 

“Mmmm,” the pro-hero hummed, staring down his nose at him. “The raid was successful, which should’ve been reported on. I’m sure you knew the heroes that participated?” 

Izuku just shook his head again even though he did know some of them. 

“The flame Hero, Endeavor was there with his sidekick X-haust. As were a couple of underground and local heroes alike. My sidekick, Centipeder and a student as well as the rookies Sandman and Miss Blossom.”

Izuku felt himself get excited but bites his tongue, trying to stay quiet. He loved Centipeder and had heard a lot about X-hasut as he was popular during his time at UA for his versatile quirk. He had done well in the sports festival his last year and won it in his second. Izuku was following some of his work but hadn’t seen much of him, working in such a large agency. And he was of course following lots of  rookie blogs so he already knew about Sandman and Blossom. He had stayed up longer than his mother would ever believe doing his analysis on Miss Blossom.

“What wasn’t reported was the casualties.”

“I thought there weren't any casualties.” Izuku said quietly. 

The man pushed his glasses up his nose and they flashed in the light again, “The Hero casualties.”

…

Izuku hadn’t even considered hero casualties. They were few and far between, especially for something as easy as a small yakuza raid. And if there were casualties the news usually would have reported it to death.  

Nighteye goes into detail about the injuries and quirk damage to the heroes that attended the raid. Endeavor had dealt with overheating (which Izuku didn’t really see as that big of a deal since that was kind of the drawback of such a powerful quirk. Really, he was surprised it didn’t happen more). The local heroes: Death Arms, Panther, and both underground heroes had all suffered either head injuries or external injuries. Centipeder had gone through severe dehydration and was hospitalized overnight while Sandman had suffered harsh external injuries and broken gear. Endeavor's sidekick, X-haust was poisoned and had the bones in his leg shattered during the attack. He was still hospitalized and had undergone multiple surgeries trying to heal his leg. And then the rookie — Miss Blossom. She had been beaten pretty badly and was suffering extensive quirk damage. According to Nighteye she was still hospitalized and currently deactivated. 

That made Izuku’s head spin. First of all, that was a lot of heroes just for a raid. At least from the ones he had watched old news coverage on or read about, small gangs and groups of villains often were taken down by underground set-ups, a group of two to five heroes, or just the cops. Then there was the news about X-haust and Miss Blossom. A leg injury that couldn’t be healed by quirk healers and needed multiple surgeries could have the hero suspended for a while. And extensive quirk damage that has someone deactivated for an unforeseeable amount of time. Miss Blossom had been in the spotlight for less than two months. It was so bizarre. And Izuku, being the Hero fanatic he was, was more upset than your average middle schooler. But, in this situation…

“That’s horrible, Sir. And umm- I’m sorry to ask, but why are you telling me ?”

The Hero stared at Izuku, seeming to decide for a minute, “I’m surprised you didn’t seek the information out for yourself. I mean, weren’t you curious? Afterall, it was your analysis that made it happen.”

…

What?

Izuku sat there, shocked and disbelieving.

What is he talking about? I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t even awake when the raid happened.

The hero opens the notebook to a tabbed page and pushes it towards him. The page was covered in a clear film that was bigger than the book itself and had red highlights and marks all over it. He frowns, wishing they hadn't touched his books at all– at least the actual pages aren't damaged. 

Nighteye points at the excerpt labeled weaknesses . Izuku tries to remember what he had written in this specific entry. X-haust had three at this point. One, from when he was still at U.A (which wasn’t very detailed); The second, from his debut (which was two pages of information vomit and messy writing); and then the third, which was this one. 

This analysis was only a little more than half a page. Most of it was just a poorly done, but much more detailed than the second, drawing of his updated costume. Then the rest of it was updated information and theories that made him cringe. He doubted even a quarter of them were accurate, just guesses he’d made after watching Endeavor’s team do a rescue uptown. 

“You know, Midoriya. It’s not public knowledge that X-haust can’t ingest the smoke he controls.”

Oh. 

So that one was true. He remembers writing about that theory. He also remembered saying that all though it was possible it shouldn’t matter much since the hero can control the smoke. Unless he was overwhelmed or overpowered, he should be able to keep the smoke away from himself so he doesn't accidentally ingest it. He also remembers suggesting a respirator for safety, saying it wouldn’t clash with the costume design but might have been decided against to reduce bulk and for practicality reasons. 

“You refer to this as a ‘ quirk flaw’ . When the users body doesn’t have ways to protect or defend itself from the quirk or it’s applications”

Izuku glances up at the hero, and to say he looked upset was a bit of an understatement. Though, that was nothing compared to the man next to him. Scarf man looked absolutely murderous at the moment. If looks could kill Izuku would’ve been six feet under. 

He avoided that gaze, looking back at the notebook. 

It was just a theory. There was no way for him to know if it was actually true. He didn’t even want to know. Well, sort of, but he would never want that theory to be tested and for the hero to get hurt in the process. 

Nighteye flipped to one of the other tabbed pages, landing on the analysis for Miss Blossom. 

This one he was well aware of. Three full pages, multiple drawings in different fighting poses, and paragraphs on paragraphs of Izuku nerding out about the capable young hero and her flashy quirk. Really, flower power was just so cool.

He remembers talking his mom’s ear off when she came home from work after Blossom’s debut. He talked while they cooked and long after they ate, his mother smiling and listening intently the whole time. Then he spent the rest of the night (and a lot of the morning) writing her analysis till he fell asleep at his desk. 

“It takes a very keen eye to see that Miss Blossom uses exclusively her hands for her quirk, especially when she works so hard to disguise that fact.”

Izuku feels himself blush at the accidental compliment. Yes, the hero did try and disguise it well. That’s what made her style seem so unorthodox. She moved in a strange way, her feet never in the proper position and her hands in constant movement. It was always hard to see her mid fight as she usually had a stream of flowers surrounding her as she fought. 

She had used that ring as extra ammo when she was desperate but he had guessed what it was really for after watching his tenth slow mo’d fight. It was to disguise her hands.

 Her quirk was a spectacle, which is how she got popular so quickly. Every fight she showed up at ended in the streets covered with beautiful flower petals that would stick around for days. Most of the Musutafu heroes seemed to be brawlers, so Blossom was a welcome addition to the area. It was a nice change, to see flowers everywhere rather than debris and blood.

So he had guessed that she didn’t need to always have the flower ring around her to use her quirk, and it wasn’t for protection. It was more likely that she was using it as a way to hide the intricate hand movements that must’ve been the way her quirk was controlled. 

At the time, Izuku hadn’t understood the importance of heroes shielding the specifics of their quirks. This analysis had thrown him down a rabbit hole that made him all too aware of what happens when a hero expands on those specifics too much.  

“I just thought you would’ve wanted an update, if you didn’t already know. So you can add it to the list of heroes you’ve deactivated so far.”

He takes a second to process the words. Then he's standing and pulling at the handcuffs harshly, confused and defensive.

“What!? But I haven't deactivated any-, w-what are you talking about!?”

Nighteye looks at Izuku unimpressed and the dark-haired officer reaches for him but he flinches away, the handcuffs biting at his wrists harshly. 

“Sit down, Midoriya.” Nighteye says, unmoving and uncaring of the boy's outburst. 

He’s shaking again and breathing harshly. He slowly sits down as he tries to take a deep breath. He screws up his face in concentration, upset. He’s never had so many problems with his breathing. He feels like his emotions have been every which way today. 

Honestly, Izuku’s spent most the day just sitting around yet he thinks he’s never been so exhausted. 

What was wrong with him? He was innocent. He knew he was innocent. This was just a misunderstanding. So why were they getting him so easily riled up?

The scarf man had sat back and was watching Izuku carefully. He avoided that scrutinizing glare yet again and stared back at his favorite spot on the table. 

Nighteye turns the book toward himself. “Let’s see. Besides Miss Blossom and X-haust, there have been twelve heroes that have been deactivated in the area in the last two months. Were you not aware of this, Midoriya?”

Twelve sounded like a lot. He was aware that more heroes were either retiring early or unfortunately having to deactivate in recent months, but twelve? Surely he would have noticed. The news would’ve been all over that, he wouldn’t have been able to miss it. 

He shakes his head, opening his mouth to answer but is cut off by the blonde officer. 

“Seriously? You didn’t notice tons of heroes ending their careers in your area? Yet you spend all your time writing about those exact heroes?”

“If you're gonna lie then you should at least be believable, kid” the dark haired officer says under his breath.

“I’m not lying! I didn't know it was that many! I knew about some of them but I had no idea it was that bad!”

“ Strong Arm , local hero of Musutafu,” Nighteye interrupts opening the book to said heroes analysis Izuku had done. “ ‘Quirk: Confined Brawn, a basic muscle enhancement, but localized to one area at a time.’ Under your ‘ weakness ’ section you wrote, ‘ As seen in early interviews and old videos of before he was a pro, the Hero, Strong Arm, doesn’t actually have to use his strength enhancer at all times. With his quirk deactivated he seems like an average person, which means that he is activating his quirk consistently, or at least while he’s doing hero work. The most likely reason for this is for his public image. Strong Arm can move his quirk around to different body parts, unlike many strength users. So he can have a ‘strong arm’, yes, but also switch to a ‘strong leg’ mid fight. This, of course, makes his fighting style unique and difficult for opponents. Unfortunately, because of the choice to always have his quirk activated, the hero risks quirk exhaustion. Now, the hero has been doing this for quite a long time so his stamina is most likely astronomical, but most of his fights are either with a group or end as quick as they start. If Strong Arm found himself in a drawn out, multiple attacker fight, I would assume that the overworked-quirk would get to him much faster then if he decided not to be constantly activating it. ’” The hero looked at Izuku now, studying him, “Then six weeks ago, Strong Arm was attacked by a larger group while isolated, dealing with a longer fight. He was exhausted ten minutes in, just as you predicted he’d be, and lost his signature arm to the villains.”

 That’s horrible! But to blame Izuku? “I had nothi-”

“ Sonic Melody ,” Izuku can’t even be upset with Nighteye for interrupting him, cause as he flips to the page the boy realizes he knows exactly what the hero will read next. “ ‘ For one of the coolest quirks I’ve ever seen Sonic absolutely tarnishes their potential as a reliable hero.” 

He cringes thinking about this analysis. Truly he believes this hero has an amazing quirk, but he remembers being extremely harsh and judgmental in this entry. Even though he didn’t mean for anyone but himself to read it, he’s still embarrassed for being so severe in his analysis of a hero who was only trying to help people. 

“ Quirk: Echolocation, allows the user to use their voice to see, or in this case to see farther/better than they already can . Because Sonic Melody is not blind. Despite this fact, the hero decides that as part of their hero costume they will use a blindfold. Although it is a cool costume design and they can ‘see’ with their quirk, there's no point in doing such a dangerous move just for an attempt to gain popularity. The hero commission should never have approved the costume choice for safety reasons, or maybe suggested using a fake blindfold that the hero can still see through. And what's worse, going on talk shows and bragging about getting rid of an important sense that YOU STILL HAVE THE ABILITY TO USE. Yes, they can ‘see’ with their quirk, but according to their own words , it's not the same way that Sonic see’s with their typical vision. Echolocation gives them a net of their surroundings and the user can see the objects and people around them as solid figures with no detail. They admit they get rid of this ability because ‘they can’ and also mention that their quirk is tiring overtime. This whole situation is unnecessarily dangerous, how has not one person thrown up a red flag? And that Sonic Melody weapon of choice is one that they are unpracticed with. In their debut fight, they were using a disc that was obviously the weapon that they were most comfortable with, but in the last year has changed to a small golden (probably reinforced metal with a gold coloring) lyre. Yes, it looks cool. And, again, I wouldn’t have a problem with it if they were practiced with the weapon at all. Though, at the moment my frustrations are unfounded, as Sonic Melody has not seemed to have problems with either of my criticisms and is slowly moving up the popularity charts. 

Four weeks ago Sonic was ambushed by the yakuza. They seemed to take your advice, waiting for her shift to be nearly over and using aerial and long range quirk attacks. The yakuza weren’t very forgiving once they captured the hero. Sonic is still hospitalized, blinded in one eye, and their eardrums were so badly ruptured that it may not be able to be healed.”

Angry tears flooded Izuku’s eyes. Yes, that analysis was pretty bad– but he didn’t hurt the hero. He wrote that in his notebooks. His analysis. Nobody was supposed to read it. And Izuku didn’t attack anyone. It wasn't his fault! Right?  

“ Medusa. Quirk: subjection. A very long and detailed analysis, Midoriya. So many suggestions on how her quirk activates. You realized that the trick stops working once you know how it goes.”

Izuku just shakes his head. No, no, no, no, no. I was just curious. I never wanted anyone to get hurt! I didn’t-

“ Subjection is powerful, but when they knew how she activated it, they didn’t need to do anything but fight her off. And with your,” Nighteye turns the page to the continued analysis on the hero, “comprehensive list of fighting techniques, styles, habits, weaknesses, and strengths they would’ve had no trouble. After that brutal fight, Medusa retired from heroics.”

Izuku grits his teeth, wanting to hit his head against the table. It wasn't his fault. Why does he keep saying Izuku did it? He didn’t. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He loved Medusa, he was surprised and devastated when she announced her early retirement. A quirk that could temporarily immobilize an adversary by the user speaking their names? So awesome. Which was what Izuku had said in his analysis. Not once did he say anything about the hero that would suggest he wanted anything like this to happen. 

“ The Emerald hero: Wolf. Quirk: tracker. She- ” 

Had the ability to track any object to the person who last touched it. As Nighteye recounts Wolf’s kidnapping, injuries and eventual rescue Izuku feels that same loss of control on his breathing. He tries to regulate it but loses focus every time Nighteye mentions how his analysis could’ve hurt a hero.

He continues, to the Ice Hero: Blade. Another analysis where Izuku was more upset than excited while he was writing it. He remembers coming home last year and falling on a piece of solid black ice in the middle of summer. The ice, Izuku had found, was left behind from a fight that involved a new hero in their area, Blade. Izuku did not like Blade, which was evident in his analysis. The hero had the ability to create ice trails as he skated on solid ground. Although he’s known as ‘the ice hero’ the man was mostly a speedster. A cool quirk, yes, but one with an annoying drawbrack. The ice trails were always left behind. Clean up crews from the city would come and melt them every now and then, but they would always miss some or come too late. Izuku was ecstatic that the hero had moved to Tokyo seven months ago. 

He hadn’t known that he decided to come back a month ago. Nighteye recounts the attack the man underwent and how Izuku’s analysis aided the takedown. Blade was burned horribly but fortunately had a healer that specializes in burns, and was quick enough to heal even the worst of it. The damage to his feet was also mostly healed but his right foot isn’t good enough to return yet. While he’s in physical therapy the hero is currently temporarily deactivated. 

And it just kept going. Vertigo was attacked two weeks ago and was currently comatose. The Illusion hero: Mirrorage (who Izuku admired for their unique fighting style) was attacked by the villains only fighting the version of the hero that had the blue sleeve on her left arm. He remembers saying that her costume should be monochromatic so the mirror image couldn’t have been found out, and speculating for half a page why she might have chosen otherwise. Mirrorage retired after her fight. 

Izuku thinks that anyone could have come to these conclusions. These were just ramblings from some kid. Anyone could look at a quirk like mirror image and see that the illusion would be the mirror image. It wasn’t exactly a revolutionary conclusion, even if it wasn’t public knowledge. 

Even if a villain had his notebook, they could’ve come to all these conclusions on their own. Izuku had nothing to do with it. 

“ The Speed Hero: Jubatas….. paralyzed ……. deactivated ”

Izuku had nothing to do with it.

“ Avian Singer…… lost her tongue ….. deactivated ”

… Izuku had nothing to-

“ Steel Strife… another critical analysis ….. An outmatched fight … retired ”

Izuku had-

“ Black Light-”

Nighteye’s interrupted by the scarf man who cleared his throat loudly, gaining everyone's attention. Izuku looks up at the man who’s staring at him intently. 

Breathe. He remembers. He wants you to breathe, Izuku. Just Breathe. 

He tries. He really does. Thankfully Nighteye stops, letting Izuku try and collect himself. 

He’s shaking, and probably sweating, and he just can’t breathe right! What’s wrong with him? How is he this useless? He feels himself starting to sob, making breathing even harder. 

“Kid?”

Izuku just shakes his head, trying to move back in the chair but the handcuffs stop him. 

He can’t breathe. He’s gonna die. He can’t-

The man’s chair scrapes against the floor loudly as he swiftly makes his way to Izuku. The boy continues shaking his head and he crouches down next to him, carefully trying to break through his panic. 

“Kid.”

The sobs wracked his body and he thinks he’s gonna pass out. The ringing in his ears and pressure in his head increase by the second and he’s gonna die in an interrogation room.

“Kid. Izuku. Can you hear me?”

He tries to nod his head but doesn’t think it comes out right as he sobs and hiccups. He knows he's making a spectacle of himself. He knows he’s acting like a child. He knows this. But no matter how much he tries to just bite his tongue and breath, he can't.

Izuku does the next best thing and bites down on his knuckle, trying to concentrate on his breathing. That lasts all of two seconds when his wrist is suddenly grabbed and brought back down to the table, the man pulling him back by his shoulder. 

He leans into the touch and Izuku is so grateful when the man wraps his arm around him and rubs slow but firm circles into his back. Izuku just pushes his head into the gray scarf thing and sobs like a child. He can hear the man saying something but can't make it out over his own hysterics. 

They stay like that until he calms down. When he finally leans back, he's red from crying and embarrassment. 

Scarf man leans back himself, giving Izuku some space. 

He doesn’t know this man, yet here he was balling into his chest. But he felt so alone. Was he really that desperate? 

Still, he reassured him, “Breathe in for 4, hold for 6, out for 7”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Izuku shook his head. Even though he calmed down enough to think rationally, he was still hiccuping and his breath seemed to stutter every time he tried to breathe deeper.

“Take your time, Midoriya. Just try.”

And he does. It takes an embarrassing amount of time but he is patient with him. When he finally, successfully breathes for the times the raven haired man asks, he feels himself calm down. He eventually doesn’t have to force himself and he starts to feel normal again. 

When he goes to wipe his nose on his sleeve he remembers he’s still in an interrogation room handcuffed to a table. 

He glances up at Sir Nighteye who has his legs crossed and is holding his head in his hand. 

The dark-haired officer is standing next to the blonde now and he whispers something to her that Izuku couldn’t hear. 

The scarf man glares at them, making Izuku think he must have great hearing. 

“I thought I told you not to speak.” Nighteye says, not looking up. 

The dark haired officer gives the pro a dark look, “You didn’t tell me shit. Not that I take orders from you any-”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Officer Koono.”

Scarf man studies Izuku for a moment before deciding he is satisfied and nods, standing up. He doesn’t sit back down but takes the dark haired officer, Officer Koono’s, old spot by the side of the table. 

“I never agreed to anything.” Scarf man says, shrugging.

Nighteye lifts his head from his hands, leveling a bored stare at the man for a second before returning his attention back to Izuku. 

“Sorry.” Izuku whispers, looking away, embarrassed. 

“It’s quite alright, Midoriya. I’m not unaware that this is a stressful situation.”

The awkward silence seemed to follow Sir Nighteye after every statement . Half the time it made Izuku want to say something just to fill it and the other half, want to just blend in with the walls. 

“I am surprised at your discomfort with hearing about the deactivation of heroes. I mean, with how you talk about your peers I would’ve thought you had no problem with it.”

Izuku stares back up with a questioning look, confused. 

“Of course you can’t pretend you don’t know what it is I’m referring to. You’ve basically written a full guide on how to harm your classmate, and these are only the two latest volumes. Did you want to hurt him too, Midoriya?” Nighteye asks as he turns the book again, now open to a page labeled ‘ Kacchan’.

“And here’s what you don’t understand, detective. They expect me to have all the answers. No one comes to you asking about this and that and details and such, do they, detective?”

“No, Captain, they don't.”

“Perciesley, and I have a lousy commission rep who doesn’t know his head from his ass asking me questions he doesn’t even understand. It’s frustrating, detective.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Yes, yes….” The man pauses for a long second, yet again . “What was I saying again?”

Naomasa bites down a tired sigh. “The commission rep, Captain.”

“Oh, yes. Right.”

And the man talks. And talks. And talks. And Naomasa suppresses yawns and prays for this to end. He had tried to get the attention of Officer Sansa, by the door, but the cat officer paid no mind to Naomasa’s pleading looks to make any excuse to cut the meeting short. 

He just wanted to go back to his interrogation. Finish his case. Figure this all out so maybe the captain would have answers to give the commission rep. But instead he sits in the room, reassuring the Captain and listening to the man rant. 

“We should be thanking our lucky stars that there's been no news coverage since the arrest of Midori. But no, the commision feels the need to step in to be able to handle the public for the safety of the heroes. As if any public was even here. And not only that-”

The Captain interrupted himself with the loudest cough Naomasa had ever had the displeasure of hearing on a daily basis. The man sniffs and after a sec, “What was I on about then?”

“The news, Captain.”

“Oh, yes. Not only that…”

Please. Someone end my suffering. Someone start a scene, anything to get me out of here.

He glances over to Officer Sansa again but the man seems to be in his own world, staring off into the distance.

He hoped Eraser and Nighteye hadn't killed each other yet. Maybe they teamed up to kill Koono and Sakatsume. He hoped Midoriya wouldn’t work himself up again. He wished he was there. This case was sensitive enough, without him in the room to mediate the stubborn personalities he worked with, things were bound to go up in flames.

He tunes back into what the man in front of him was saying. 

“And that's why they say: ‘ A captain is but a man without his ship ’. That’s why we need strong detectives like you Naomasa and then they can say what they …..”

Just more random rambling then. He knew the Captain liked hearing himself speak, but why he needed Naomasa there while he did was beyond him.

He was contemplating the consequences of escaping when his prayers were answered. He was in between considering faking a sudden illness, lying about someone needing him asap, or straight up telling the Captain he should be getting back to the interrogation when there was a knock on the open door. 

“Detective?” 

Oh, thank god.

“There’s a kid up front asking about Midoriya. He’s umm.. insistent”

Tsukauchi sighed, fainting an unwilling to leave act, which was easy with his exhaustion. “Okay.” He said, starting to stand.

“I‘ll handle it, detective.” Officer Sansa calls out.

No. Don’t do this to me. 

“It’s alright, Sansa. I don’t mind. It’s my case.”

“Don’t bother, Detective.” The Captain calls out. “The cat’s capable. Let him handle the civilians while we discuss the case.”

Sansa’s whisker twitches at the Captain, and for the Officer’s sake of wanting to be out of this room more than even him, he relents.

“Thanks,” He says,  “ please let me know if you need any help out there, Officer.”

“Of course, Detective.” He calls out, and then leaves the room with the same haste that Naomasa had been day dreaming of moments ago.

“See, Detective. We must learn to entrust our crew, even the feline. Now what was my point about the kid, Midori?”

“Midoriya, Captain.” 

“Yes, yes. So…..”

And back to praying for a second interruption that would allow him to get back to his case.

“We cannot let you speak to Izuku Midoriya. C’Mon, kid, just go home.”

The relief he had when he left the Captain's office was immediately drained when he came out to handle this damn kid. 

Did Sansa want to be in there instead of dealing with some stubborn brat? No. But this kid was doing nothing to help his depression. Why couldn’t he just catch a break?

“Then what the hell did he do!” The boy yells, continuing to create a scene in the middle of the precinct. He feels the glaring coming from the desk officer as if the screaming child was his fault. 

“We can’t release details of an ongoing case.” Sansa says exasperated. 

The blonde kid smirks at him, evilly, “but you can come mid class and arrest him in front of everyone.”

He felt his eye twitch in annoyance and tried to breathe evenly. He needed to remember that this is just a kid worried and acting bratty because of that worry. He needs to just reassure him and let him know they can’t tell him anything while trying to keep his own blood pressure down. “Go home. I get he's your friend and your worr-“

“Eh! Deku and I aren’t friends, you bastard! Say that again and I’ll blow up one of your nine lives!”

When is lunch? When can I leave? Why won’t anyone just leave me alone? Why can’t I catch a break?

The officer felt his patience leaving him every second as he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.

“Ey! I’m talking to you, you furry faced fuc-”

“Enough!” Deep breath. 2.. 3..“ Go. Home. We can’t help you kid. Your fr- classmate will be fine, so just leave. We have more important things to be doing right now.” 

And with that, Sansa turned and walked to the conference room feeling the life draining out of him slowly.

He thought of lunch as he walked and heard the distant yelling of the kid. 

“You fleabag! Don’t tell me what to do! Get your mangy ass back here! I’m not done ye-”

3…2…1… deep breath in. Hold. 2..3.. and out.

He glared at the drawing of Kacchan darkly. His subconscious stuck on the fact that the blonde's hair still isn’t drawn right, even after the hundreds of times Izuku had sketched him in his notebooks.

‘Did you want to hurt him too, Midoriya?’

What the hell was this? What are they even doing? Trying to blame Izuku for these horrible crimes? Insinuating he would hurt Kacchan? All for his stupid analysis hobby that was just guesswork and observations that anyone could have done. It didn’t make any sense. 

“Well, Midoriya?”

He couldn’t muster the energy to raise his head and look back at the hero. He just mumbled out a quiet, “what?”

“I asked if you wanted to hurt him too,” Nighteye repeats, pointing to the drawing of the blonde Izuku was already staring at. 

He wrinkled his nose, trying to hold back his defiance and anger that began to come out in tears. “Of course not,” he replies, his voice hoarse from crying. 

Officer Koono snorts, “ ‘Of course not,’” he mocks Izuku. “You do know we read the book, don’t you, kid? Did you forget what you wrote?”

The man rubs at his scar on his chin and his eyes flicker with a blue hint. He uses the same voice to mock Izuku again, “The more that Kacchan practices with explosion the more its problems seem to come to light. With the entrance exams coming up in the next year, he’s been experimenting more than ever. The constant massaging and twitching of his forearms validates my earlier theory that the more consistent he uses attacks the more it causes pain rather than exhaustion. The more he practices, the more he can use his control, yada, yada. Lets see,”  His eyes flicker again and Izuku would be lying if he wasn’t transfixed with the man's quirk. “Mm, Kacchan's main weakness is obviously the cold. Watching him attempt to combat it this week has shown his difficulties. Though it's funny to see him mad at the weather, it does make me think of future problems in his heroics and other heroes who deal with the same weakness. Though changes in costume can help aid a hero with this problem, it won't eliminate it. They will always be weaker, slower, and easier to fatigue. Though, the opposite can be said in the summer. Kacchan will always thrive when it's hot. Since the more he sweats, then you go off on a little creepy fanboy tangent, blah blah blah. Where’s the good stuff?”

His eyes flicker like pages being turned and Izuku wanders what the man is seeing. He’s obviously citing what he had read earlier word for word, a memory quirk.

“Right, With Kacchan’s quirk being exclusive to the sweat from his palms and nowhere else, there’s a dangerous weakness able to be exploited. If an adversary focuses on the goal of attacking explosions only output, his hands, then the quirk would no longer be a threat. This kind of brutal attack is an uncomfortable topic in heroic’s. It’s also not very common since heroes have worked at hiding main weaknesses like such, but in Kacchan’s case it's quite obvious and difficult to disguise without compromising efficiency (which Kacchan would never do). There's also a chance of Kacchans quirk evolving, (though there's been no signs) which would help minimize the dangers of being attacked in one area and losing all power. Of course, one would have to get close to Kacchan to try and attack him that way and I highly doubt- more weird fanboy flattory,  was there more?” His eyes flicker again and Izuku bites his tongue to make sure he wouldn’t mutter out any stray thoughts of intrigue. “Uhh, just some offhand comments about water being problematic but nothing outright.”

He blinks, the glowing blue fading from his eyes and Izuku feels his hands twitch to write down the theories that race through his mind. When he sees scarf man and Nighteye both zeroed in on his twitching hand he tries to pull them into his lap only to be reminded of the handcuffs that are starting to really irritate his wrists. 

“And you go into quirk specifics, battle iq, current strategies you overheard, other random weird shit. I mean, way to hold back, Midoriya . If someone who was more dangerous but less keen then you reads this, that kid’s in trouble. Plus this was only volume 9 and 10 and he has like three multiple page entries so I’m assuming you wrote more about him in the other ones.”

Nighteye shifts in his seat and looks back up at Izuku, “This boy?” He asks, holding eye contact, “Did you hope they would go after him too? He wants to be a hero, right? Did you want them to end your classmates' career before it even started?”

Izuku gives the hero a disgusted look, losing any ability to show respect with such a horrible accusation being thrown at him. “Why would I want to hurt Kacchan?”

“He bullies you, doesn’t he?” scarf man asks. 

How he knows that, Izuku couldn’t even imagine. He feels that need to defend Kacchan cause he may not be nice but was he really ‘bullying’ him? He considers and thinks that maybe he’s not the best judge of character. 

Still, he shakes his head, eyes downcast, “No. Not really.” He thinks of his other classmates' crude behavior towards him. The incident that made him lose volume 9 in the first place. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t want to hurt him anyways. I just like quirks. And heroes. Analyzing is a hobby, something fun to pass the time. I never wrote any of that thinking or wanting it to lead to anybody getting hurt.”

There’s a longer silence in the room that's only interrupted when officer Koono snorts. “Okay, don't go playing the saint, kid. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt? Then you wouldn’t have given the books to those freaks. Do you think we’d believe that you didn't know they were gonna hurt anyone? You think we’re idiots? What? We’re just gonna believe you cause you cried a little bit?”

Izuku feels hot when he glares at the man, catching on something he’d said. “Who is they ?”

Officer Koono glares right back, moving closer to Izuku, “The people you sold the books to.”

He flushes, words dying in his mouth. Sold? I didn’t- Why do they think-, Wh- why didn’t they say this earlier? He actually hates how everything about this was handled. It was a misunderstanding. How did it escalate like this?

“I didn’t sell anything to anyone. ”

“Ha!” He leans against the table, across the empty chair, “Yes. You. Did.”

Izuku glares, defiantly, fear leaving him for anger as he leans even closer to the man. “No. I. Didn’t.”

He points at Izuku, almost touching his forehead. “Think you can lie to us, brat? You might as well tell the truth now, Midoriya. We have multiple accounts saying that you sold the book to Nobuyuki Shimoda and Yasu Uemura.”

“I don’t even know those people! I have no idea what you're talking about! I lost the books! I didn’t sell them. I wouldn’t. They’re mine. Do you know how upset I was when I lost them?”

The man’s quirk flashes again for a second, “Kid, we have like, four separate accounts on record saying otherwise.”

“It’s not true.”

“Well, according to those four people, you did. Why should we believe you?”

He felt his face go red, but held back the budding tears, “Why would you believe them? They’re villains.”

The man rolled his eyes, “Says them, so are you.”

“Says them! They’re villains! I’m fourteen!”

“Crime doesn’t have an age.”

He was so angry, he didn’t even feel the pain in his wrists. He was roughly tugging at the handcuffs unconsciously as he argued with the officer. He stopped when scarf man kicked the table. When Izuku looked up he was shaking his head, giving him a look that said he was fed up with him. 

“Midoriya,” Nighteye calls, “We have ways to know if you’re lying.”

Some tears escape as he directs his anger towards the hero he once looked up to, “Good! Do it! I’m not lying.”

Officer Koono laughs meanly, “Yeah, right”

“I’m not lying! I lost them!”

He looks at him disbelieving, leaning back from the table. “Twice?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, brat. Like I’d believe you.”

“Why not? You believe villains.”

The man’s eye twitches, annoyed. “That’s four villains and one shitfaced quirkless kid.” Izuku tries not to look hurt at that, but the man continues regardless, “And don’t act like you're all sunshine and rainbows, moss head.” 

His quirk activates again, and Izuku hates that he’s curious. “Right, ten reports of starting fights, thirty counts of class misconduct, multiple tardies and truancies, and that's all just last month. Stealing, piss-poor grades, notes about constant interrupting and distracting behavior, harassment, vandalism, and constant cheating,”

Izuku listens half-heartedly. The stealing was new, he couldn’t even guess where that one came from. The rest he had heard before. Where his teachers found time in their day to actually report the random things they claim he does, he can’t say. He can’t even defend himself here because –yeah, they were lying– could Izuku claim that all his teachers were lying? No, absolutely not. 

It wasn’t fair, but there wasn’t actually anything Izuku could do about it. 

“This note just says, ‘ Started class fire by proxy’ – whatever that means.” 

A knock on the reflective window startles him and he deactivates his quirk.

There was another long moment of silence before three more distinct knocks could be heard. 

Scarf man sighs, “I’ll sta-”

“No,” Nighteye interrupts, “I need to talk to you. Officers, if you wouldn’t mind staying with Midoriya.”

Officer Sakatsume rolls her eyes and Koono nods.

“We’ll knock if we need you,” Nighteye calls as he stands. 

The Scarf man stares down at Izuku, half his face still hidden by said scarf. He glances at the boy's hands before he makes his way to the door with Sir Nighteye and leaves Izuku with the two Officers.

As he begrudgingly leaves the problem child alone with dumb and dumber, he hopes Nighteye can feel the hatred and annoyance radiating off of himself. Rationally, they obviously needed to talk. And rationally, Midoriya shouldn’t be left alone, at all, let alone with those two goons. 

This whole case seemed to be a bunch of unfortunate circumstances where nobody wins. 

Tsukauchi looked ten times worse than when he had left him, Officer Sansa, who Shota had worked with before, looked content, and the local hero Death Arms, looked annoyed. 

“Your meeting must've gone well Tsuki” He grumbles, stretching and failing to stifle a yawn.

The detective looks at him in a way that has Shota feeling pity for another grown man's sleep schedule. “Well, according to Lemillion, mine went just about as well as yours.”

Glancing over at the golden haired second year, he noticed the boy was frowning. It looked so very unnatural on him, but made sense, having watched Midoriya’s panic attack unfold. Seeing Mirio this way made him regret allowing him to be here for this at all. 

Nighteye hums, “yes, we have a lot to go over I believe. Sorry detective, we’ll need to borrow your quirk. It’ll make this all a lot easier.”

“It’s fine, let’s debrief. I only heard the worst of it.”

After going over most of what had transpired in the hour it was pretty obvious to Shota, “He’s telling the truth.”

“According to the kid,” Death Arms says, nodding to Mirio.

“Lemillion.” Nighteye corrects.

“Right, Lemillion. You’ve been on his side since the minute you knew he was fourteen.”

He glares at the man boredly until the hero rolls his eyes, “Hey don’t get pissy with me, Eraser. I just got here. I’m just saying, without the detectives' quirk you have no idea what that kid is lying about.”

And yet, it was so obvious. If the detective was in there he’s sure that he would have been sure of Midoriya's innocence without the use of his quirk. There was a way the guilty acted and there was a way the innocent acted. This kid was obviously the latter. 

It was most obvious in his less obvious reactions. His surprise and relief when he saw the notebooks for the first time, for one. Shota was expecting a quick look of guilt before anything, but relief? In this situation that only would make sense if he had truly lost the notebook.

His bewilderment and confusion when Sasaki had first brought up the analysis. His anger and defiance when he was accused of the hits. His panic attack, obviously . And most telling, was his fury and annoyance that was starting to peek through. Honestly, he was surprised Midoriya’s annoyance with the situation hadn’t shown earlier.

“As much as you all want to say that being a teacher is making me sensitive here, it’s actually pretty useful. You see, most children are shit liars. They usually don't have enough practice yet. By the time they get to Midoriya or Lemillions age it can get a little harder to tell. But I can say with certainty, with all my experience, that kid is telling the truth.”

Death arms gives him an unimpressed look but Shota continues, “Unless the kid is the world's best liar, which I highly doubt, he’s telling the truth.”

“I agree.” Nighteye says, eyes closed in thought. “I’d still like to get it confirmed, but I believe that was all genuine. I think Midoriya must’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the notebooks were lost.”

Shota can’t help his scoff, cause really? The hero was so sure of Midoriya’s guilt. It’s almost like Shota had said they should hold off on judgment until they talked to the kid all along. He had to bite his tongue so a venomous, ‘ told you so ’ wouldn’t slip out.

Nighteye seemed to feel his animosity without him needing to say it aloud as he gave Shota a stern look, “I said from the beginning that it was a possibility that Midoriya was guilty. I believe it’s evident now that he’s not but there's still holes in his story. He’s still dangerous. He's still a problem that we need to handle.”

Dick. The underground hero doesn’t grace Nighteye’s defense with a response, looking through the window at the new found problem child who was currently in conversation with Officer Koono. 

Problem child cause, although he didn’t want to admit it, Nighteye was right. Midoriya was still a problem they had to handle. He knew this from the start. Intent to harm or not, those notebooks were dangerous. Midoriya would’ve been brought in no matter what. It was how they handled the situation that they disagreed on. 

“Detective?” a young officer with long white hair peaked her head in the room. “That boy from earlier is back and he uhh, he brought someone else. Um, they told me to tell you or Officer Sansa. I- please help.”

She receives a look from Tsukauchi that Shota interprets as ‘ are you fucking kidding me ’.  Shota himself thinks it's an amusing interruption to a shitty situation. 

“Okay, I’ll-”

“It’s fine, detective. I’ll handle it.”  The cat officer says with a determined but annoyed look as he follows the girl out of the room.

Tsukauchi rubs his temples for a long minute, “okay. We are now under the assumption that Midoriya isn’t purposely responsible for the hits on heroes. Which I will confirm,” he emphasizes, looking up at Death Arms, “The question is how we proceed here. We can’t just forget about the notebooks. What Midoriya is doing isn’t illegal but it's definitely dangerous.”

“Can you guys even hold him, if he hasn’t technically done anything wrong?” Death Arms asks, crossing his arms. 

The detective grimaces and there's an awkward silence with the group. Because, yeah they technically can’t keep the kid in the precinct if he didn’t do anything wrong. On the other hand they absolutely can. 

They can stretch this however they want if they really wanted to, the laws are made for that flexibility. In this society there’s an absurd number of unknown variables, enough for them to know they needed room to accommodate those variables. Like in this situation. 

Midoriya’s analysis was dangerous. It threatened heroes. It’s killed heroes. But it wasn’t illegal to write them. It wasn’t sold or commissioned, it was made solely for himself. But because it could be dangerous, they were always going to bring him in. Midoriya would’ve been in a similar situation if the notebooks were found by someone and brought to their attention, even if no heroes were hurt. It’s not right but they were kind of able to do whatever they wanted here. Unluckily for Midoriya, his quirk status makes it even easier to handle this in a way that wasn’t traditionally legal. 

“Who do we have to worry about here?” Nighteye asks Tsukauchi, ignoring the local hero. “The Captain?”

“The Captain,” Shota answers, “Is an annoyance at best. I don’t think he actually gives a damn about how we handle it. What we have to worry about are things like the kid’s mom. What are we gonna say to explain why we’re holding her kid when it’s proven he hasn’t broken any laws.”

“We have to ask how much his mother cares. Unfortunately, the best case scenario for us is that she isn’t that involved with her son. It gives us more time at least to figure this all out.”

“Wait, hold on,” Death Arms says, looking appalled, “Do you guys even hear yourselves. What the hell are you planning on doing here? What’s the solution? You gonna lie to his mom? Keep him here till he promises to stop writing the analysis?”

“Of course not, don’t be absurd.”

“Well what the hell, Nighteye. I mean I get it. I don’t usually work behind the scenes like you and Eraser but this all seems a little weird.”

“It’s just a rare situation.” Aizawa says tiredly, “Midoriya has an ability that the underground would love to get their hands on and we have every reason to believe that they are aware of him. It’s not exactly a good reason, but keeping him here is a safety precaution. We need to figure out how the yakuza got a hold of the books in the first place. Other than that, we can’t just let him go. Not after everything that's happened with Musutafu’s local heroes. If the public finds out that some quirkless middle schooler was responsible for all of that there would be uproar from all the shit people who hate the quirkless. I know it sounds cruel to keep Midoriya, Death Arms— but we’re helping him here too.”

“We also can’t let him go because of the safety precautions for the heroes. We can’t just let a potential threat continue to walk around unchecked. It’s unfair for Midoriya but we need to think about the greater good.”

“I’m more worried about the safety commission,” the detective says miserably. 

And there’s another long moment of silence that Shota interprets as a silent and collective ‘fuck’ .

“How much do they know?” Nighteye asks cautiously. “How interested are they?”

Tsukauchi sighs, “I don’t actually know. They-”

He’s interrupted by the sudden increase of volume from down the hall. What sounds like screaming and sobbing can be heard distantly. Is that the kid they were talking about?

“Are you kidding me?” Tsukauchi groans.

“Jesus. The hell is going on today?” Death Arms grumbles as he exits the room, heading towards the commotion. 

Shota feels pity for the detective as the man looks like he hasn’t caught a break (or nap) for a week. He wonders if he looks much the same, his injuries still not completely healed. Tsukauchi’s bruised cheek looked nasty, but it was almost nothing compared to the half healed gash and bruise on Shota’s back. 

“The commission?” Nighteye prompts.

“They’ve only talked to the Captain. He said it was just a rep who wasn’t well informed about the Musutafu hits.”

“Right, but how reliable is the Captain.”

“ Eraser .”

“What?”

He sighs again, “We need to try and handle this before the commission decides to do it for us. We need to figure out what the best option is regarding Midoriya. He already had a hard time so far, I’m afraid the commission may make it worse.”

“We could call Nezu.”

“Oh god, please no.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

“ Please.”

“What's the worst case scenario if we involve the commission?”

“ Sensei. ”

Shota had almost forgotten Mirio’s presence, the boy keeping unnaturally quiet almost the entire time he’s been here. He turns at the boy's almost silent whisper expecting a question but instead is delighted to be handed a hot cup of coffee. 

Thank god. Thank god for Mirio. Can’t believe I even considered not letting him be here. What was I thinking? 

As he was about to thank the boy something catches his attention. He looks through the one way glass for a quick second before he’s swiftly, but carefully, handing the coffee back to the student and rushing towards the door to the interrogation room. He cursed the fact that the speaker was off but was glad that Mirio interrupted the conversation. 

“Eraser w-”

He ignores the detective in favor of bursting the door open to get to the, once again, panicking problem child.

Chapter Text

He tries not to be upset as he watches the raven haired man leave after Nighteye. 

‘I’ll be there the whole time ’

Yeah. Right. 

He glanced at the two officers in the room with him. No surprise, the blonde was still glaring at him. Honestly, at this point it was impressive. Officer Koono was looking around the room, bored. 

He decides to lay his head on the cold table again, praying the cold steel might ease his achinging head. After a minute a wave or exhaustion hits him and he realizes just how tired he was. He didn’t think he’d actually be able to nod off, what with the uncomfortable position and circumstance, as well as the thoughts of heroes like Miss Blossom and Blade haunting his mind— but after a while he felt himself losing consciousness. 

That was until officer Koono decided to ruin that.

“You know, if I were in his shoes I would’ve sold those books for more than seven thousand yen.”

He couldn’t help it. He was sure that he was far too tired to fight this asshole– but Izuku continues to surprise himself with his tenacity for defending his innocence. 

He sits up and glares at the man. “I didn’t sell anything.”

He gives Izuku a bored stare. “Ain’t no one talking to you, brat.”

“I didn’t. Sell them.”

Koono’s eyes narrowed sharply, “Yes. You. Did.”

“No I didn’t! Why would I? They’re mine. ”

“'Why would I?’” He mocks, rolling his eyes. “Oh, I dont know. For money? To take down heroes? To hurt your friend? To stir up trouble in the city? To get back at society? To try and get an ‘in’ in the underground?”

Izuku likes to think he tried to hold back his bitter fury. That he was pushed to the point of raising his voice to an authority figure. Regardless, he knows in any other circumstance he wouldn’t be ‘acting out’ as he is now. “If I wanted to do any of that. Then why— would I put my name on it!?”

Koono grits his teeth at him and looks towards the window, “Where’s Tsukauchi?”

The blonde picks at her nails, boredly, shooting her partner an annoyed look, “With the heroes. Now will you both –please. Shut. Up.”

He rolls his eyes at her, “C’mon, sweetness. You haven’t been in an interrogation in a month. You really that pissy?”

“Do not call me– sweetness–, Koono. I swear I will do everything in my power to make sure you don’t even see an interrogation room for as far as that asshole can see into your future.”

“Careful, the speaker might be on.” Koono grumbled. 

“Doubt it. You need to stop fu- Stop staring at me, brat.”

Izuku, who was giving his undivided attention to the interaction between the two, looks away sheepishly croaking out a quiet apology. 

“For a villain, you’re awfully timid.” Konno says, flipping the chair around and sitting in it backwards to talk with Izuku more, ignoring his partner's request for quiet. “C’mon greenie, where's that eager malicious spirit? You wanna analyze my quirk, don’t ya’? C’mon tell me all the ways it can be used against me.”

“Leave him alone, Konno.”

“All my weaknesses. The ins and outs. The flaws and strengths or whatever. C’mon, little villain.”

Tears start to well up, because of course they do. He’s infuriated by the man's words and his helplessness. C’mon Deku, can’t you be a little useful. 

He sniffles, making his glare come off much weaker than he intended it to, “I’m not a villain.”

“Brat.”

“You’re gonna get in trouble for making him cry.”

He turns towards the officer, smirking meanly, “Nah, he hasn’t stopped crying since the school. He’s a crybaby villain, Sakatsume.”

Izuku couldn’t help his desperate look at the window, hoping someone on the other side would come back in. He’s not sure why since he knew they wouldn’t help him anyways. Nobody ever helped him. 

And Izuku was sure of one thing. There was a big difference between being bullied by your peers and being bullied by an adult. Sure, his teachers were unfair but they were never cruel like this. 

And he really tried to hold the tears in to not prove the officer right but they fell silently and embarrassingly. He turned his head trying to hide as best he could, but Koono still held his attention intently.

“Ey’, brat. You gotta have a backbone if you want to take down heroes.”

He pulled on the cuffs again as he tried to wipe his tears with sleeve. “I don’t want to take down heroes. I love heroes. I want to be o-”

Izuku cuts himself off, blushing. He knew that his dreams of being a hero were better worked at quietly then voiced aloud. People were cruel. Izuku knew that better than anyone. The quirkless kid admitting he wanted to be a hero? He’s basically begging for ridicule. So, he's not surprised when the officer snorts.

“Hah! Sakatsume you hear him!” The officer turned in his seat trying to grab his partner's attention. Sakatsume was pointedly not looking at either of them, seeming to attempt to remove herself from the situation entirely. “Greenie wants to be a hero. Ha! That's a good one, kid. You’re a real riot!”

Tears fall faster than before and Izuku curls inward trying his best to hide from the situation. He was close to just breaking down and he knew it. He was bone tired, even before this all went down; he had no energy to handle any of this. 

“Even if you somehow pulled that off, they’ll never take you now. Do you think you’d get accepted after all this? You’re at fault for a percentage of a whole city's heroes calling it quits. Hell kid, you sold gear to yakuza. That makes you underground.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Then again, would the underground even accept you? I hear they’re particular about their people. Maybe they don’t want a quirkless brat in their illegal little group, huh? What do you think, Sakatsume? Think they’d accept broccoli-head here?”

The man seemed to be amusing himself as he didn’t wait for his partner's answer, or he’s enjoying Izuku falling apart as he begins to hiccup painfully again. “I mean Shimoda didn’t offer you a spot in the Yakuza did he? Ha! They’d rather have his twink ass than you.”

He laughs cruelly as Izuku cries. “Surprising though, that they wouldn’t offer you a spot regardless. I mean they’ve seen what your little evil, creepy brain can do.”

“I don't want a spo-”

“I mean I woulda accepted you just to spare becoming a bloody stain on the side of a building.”

“C’mon, Koono.” Officer Sakatsume suddenly blurts, “Be a little smarter than that. God.” 

“What! I didn’t say anything wrong.” He pouts, “ Wait. Does he not know? You gotta be fuckin kiddin me? He’s supposed to be smart. You tellin me he can't do two plus two?”

“I don't know, but just stop. I don’t want to have to deal with whatever can of worms that you're trying to force on me. I swear I’ll leave you alone with the brat. You make my life harder and I will make yours hell.”

“You don’t know, kid?”

“Koono, I’m serious!”

Izuku looked between the two, confused. What the hell were they talking about? What doesn’t he know? What does the officer not want him to know? Why does-

Bang

He jolts as Koono’s large fist hits the table. “Pay attention, brat. I’m getting tired of the fucking spacing out, jeez, I asked you a question.”

He blinks at the man owlishly. How was he supposed to answer that? He doesn’t know what he’s referring to. He doesn’t know if he knows cause he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He wracks his mind trying to come up with an answer that would please the man. 

He wasn’t quick enough though, as the officer rolls his eyes and hits the table again. His fist lands right in front of Izuku's cuffed hands, making him flinch back, pulling on the cuffs. 

The sudden pain that flares through his wrists makes him cry out. 

What? Did I break skin or something? Why does that hurt so much?

“Midoriya!”

“Koono!”

“I don't know! I- I’m sorry. I don’t – I don’t know what you're talking about! I don’t know if I don’t know.”

The two stare at him dumbly for a second. “What?” Koono asks, genuinely. 

“I— I don’t know.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m leaving.”

“T’sume come on, don’t go.” He draws. “There's heroes out there ya’know.”

“I don’t care. It’s better than dealing with whatever the hell you're gonna start.”

“Oh c’mon don’t be so dramatic-”

As they fight Izuku wracks his brain again. What set the ram-horned officer off? 

‘I would’ve accepted you just to spare becoming a bloody stain on the side of a building. ’

After he said that she had rather abruptly interrupted, after spending the previous few minutes trying to spiritually leave the conversation (and probably the room). But why would that set her off? What did that have to do with anything? What would that statement mean that would make her life more difficult?

Accepting Izuku into the underground? No. Stain on the side of a building? No, that didn't mean anythin-

…  

…

…

No. 

…

No. No. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. No! No! No! No!No!No!No!No!No!No!No!No!NO!

“Midoriya?”

No! I didn’t- No I- That’s not what was suppos- – No! It was just- NO! NO! NO!

“Shit, kid. Calm down.”

No! Please no! please. please. please. please. please. please. please. Please. No, please. I didn’t want this. This isn’t what was supposed to happen! It was just a hobby! No! I didn’t! Please! No! Please.

“Oh my god. Kid.”

“Move. You’re freaking him out.”

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do? Jeez, Sakatsume. Fucking do something. What the hell? What do we do?! What the hell! Look at him!”

“Shut up– I got it. Just stop.” She barked at the man. “Hey, Izuku? Can you hear me, hun?”

no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. god no. no. no. Please! No. please. God. please.

“Izuku.” She tried again. “Do you remember what Mr. Aizawa told you? Remember he said to breathe? I need you to try that for me, okay? Please? Can you do that?”

no. no. no. no. It can't! It couldn't've! No!

“Fuck it. I’m calling someone.”

no.

“Just wait. I can get through to him.”

no.

“Hey, he’s freaking out. I don’t know what to do. I really think we should call someone. Hell maybe the fucking hospital.”

no.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you would’ve just shut up!”

please.

“Don’t blame me! Would you just talk to him again? That was working…  I think.”

Please. No. please.

“Izuku. Hey kiddo, you gotta breathe. Just one breathe in for me okay? Remember what-”

Something touches him and he jolts trying to stand. The chair falls as he moves and he cries out loud again in pain. 

“Fuck!” The officer says almost falling over from her kneeled position. She moves back looking at the panicking kid helplessly. “Fuck it, fine. Go. Go get so-”

Officer Koono, who didn’t need to be told twice, was already walking to the door when it suddenly burst open banging loudly against the wall.

“What happened?” A familiar voice booms throughout the small room. 

“Nothing!” a male voice replies. “He just started freaking out!”

“Nothing?”

“Eraser, he-”

Voices become muffled and his vision becomes blurry. He feels himself slowly droop down and can do nothing but whimper at the burning bite in his wrist. The muffled voices get louder but his head becomes floaty and he feels like he’s moving backwards as all his muscles relax without his permission. He revels in the relief as everything goes quiet and tries to move towards that sensation. It’s ripped away from him quickly though.

He feels himself come back to when he hears a loud sound of metal breaking and a clang. His wrists hit the floor and his vision comes back to him far too quickly, leaving him disoriented.

Scarf man is standing in front of him out of nowhere . When did he- That thought is cut short with the aching pain in his head. He shuts his eyes and rubs them with his hands. The action feels odd to him for some reason. As if he shouldn’t be doing it. Or if he shouldn't be able to do it. 

He blearily looks down at his hands and realizes why he was thinking that. His hands are still handcuffed. But they’re no longer handcuffed to the table. He looks up from his spot on the ground at the table but sees no evidence of being released. Wait. When did I get on the floor?

“Izuku. Kid, can you hear me.” 

His mind locks onto the familiar voice and his stare catches on charcoal eyes that hold his own intently. He nods after a second, making his head spin. 

“You need to breathe with me, Izuku. You gotta calm down. It's okay. Just calm down.”

Breathe. 

Remember?

He wants you to breathe, Deku. 

C’mon, just breathe. 

It's not that hard. 

It is. 

But why? 

Why was he?

‘The Wind Hero: Torpedo! Quirk: Air Vortex. He’s so Cool! Air Vortex allows the user to turn their body into a high speed missile, basically. It’s base level seemed to be just mobility. But the senior super has turned it into such a cool op power! Torpedo took on a whole street of thugs in Shibuya all by himself! Even mom said he was amazing! The original quirk, based on the extremely minimal information I could find, had a top speed of 50 mph(but that when the hero was like seventeen so it was probably a lot slower before). His interview with HtZ was so awesome! He talked about leveling up Air Vortex from its base. Getting from under 75 mph to his top speed now, 127 mph! He said the training was crazy! He couldn’t even get his support gear to work with him back then cause it would break with the speed and turmoil his quirk had. (I think that if he still wanted to use support gear he would have better luck now, with the improvements in support tech he could totally have gear that could aid him that will no longer break) …

… Torpedo’s quirk is a mutation, the skin breaks on his legs are used for momentum and his curved hand for direction. The hero talked about problems he had in costume design because of his mutation and the strain his hand cause compared to- … 

… Weaknesses: Torpedo’s quirk, although very cool, unfortunately has some very concerning issues. (I think the only reasons these issues weren’t addressed was because they are comparatively new issues from when Torpedo first became a hero. I think that there should be relicensing once rules update or change but also that might be too difficult if they’re changing all of the time) First of all, is speed. As this is also a strength I would say it really is situational. I think it's pretty obvious though, with the amount of property damage as of late in Torpedo’s fights, the hero may have a control issue. It seems, with the faster speeds the man gets, the more he seems to lack in directional choice. Again, an obvious observation; but that begs the question on why the hero doesn’t pick a max speed in which he can still maintain control or why that speed isn’t regulated. As far as I've researched, no one has been officially injured due to this issue (but with all of that property damage I beg to differ). Another part of Torpedo’s quirk that could be problematic; ‘ lock on ’. Lock on keeps Torpedo’s body locked in place and locked on target whilst he’s actively spinning. Again, another obvious one. Being stuck on target and in place is just always a bad idea. I’m unaware if this is a special move or just an unfortunate quirk flaw that’s built in but either way it could be easily exploited (especially with Torpedo’s easy to goad attitude.) And lastly, besides out of date gear and methods, would be his refusal to work in a team. It may seem like a small thing, but some quirks just work better when they’re in a group with other quirks that can help aid quirk flaws or just make some aspects better. Although Torpedo is awesome, his refusal to work in even temporary teams serves a very big issue in his career and opens the conversation to when a hero's ego could potentially become dangerous…

…“A hero is only worth what they become. What you were is just a stepping stone. I was weak and slow, now I’m fast and I’m strong. My improvement took more hard work and guts then I thought I had in me. I’m a shining example of what could be. Your work will pay off if you're willing to give your blood, sweat, and tears for it. You do that, and anyone can become a damn hero. ” … 

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~~~~~~~~ August 8, XXXX ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breaking! Mustafa's Wind Hero: Torpedo! Dead at 67

The Hero was fighting members of what’s believed to be a newly formed local Yakuza group in Musuta. The well loved seasoned vet was unfortunately a victim to this group last Tuesday. We want to say thank you for his service and many years as one of Japan’s best heroes. His family wanted…

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X —

—

@AlzMightasda7891 — 

Torpedo was such a joke. Old people should be thrown into a home when they reach a certain point. Like that thug was obviously trying to lure him to that building. How do you miss a trap that obvious

—

            —

            @Andshewasafairy to @AlzMightasda7891

            Dude. not cool. Someone just lost their grandpa.

                        —

                        @AlzMightasda7891 to @Andshewasafairy

                        Dude. That’s my point.

—

@EdgeMyshot099

Why didn’t the hero stop when he saw the building was spiked? I was able to look the fuck away in time. I think he had time to move mid air. I mean when you see your about to hit a cement spike on the side of a fucking building… like, why?

—

            __ Veiw replies __

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@standhalssavior7

Good riddens. 

—

            __ Veiw replies__

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@ Mrs.Mirakoswifey389

Those reflective pans to get him on that path… the spike coming on like 10 sec before he hit the building… the guy who egged tha man on in the first place…  Um like does this not all seem extremely well planned. LIKE IT WAS PLANNED!? Why is nobody talking about this! There’s literally no articles on how this was an obvious planned attack. They literally knew exactly how to trap him. They knew exactly how to kill him. Poor guy didn’t have a damn chance. Like hello? Just me?

—

            —

            @ washIsAmachine_n0taHer0

            Right??!!! This is exactly what I was thinking

            —

            —

            @Dance3SquidKid03dnc

            Damn conspiracy theorists. YALL ARE FUCKN CRAZY! Heroes lose sometimes.             

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            __ Veiw replies__

            —

           @ Hawksisnum1hero

            I feel like this was all a planned thing to get Torpedo out of the field. He was a good hero but he was like always causing problems for the other heroes. RIP

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…

“Izuku.”

“Should we call someone!”

“Who are you gonna call?”

“I don't freaking know!? Like an ambulance.”

“Nothing caused this? You two wanna change your story?”

“No.”

“No.”

Izuku begins to feel light headed again. He can’t breathe. It was his fault. But it wasn’t. But if he had never written that analysis. Maybe. No. Please. Why? Please. I wish I could– I'm sorry!

“Izuku?”

“No! I’m! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to! I- I swear! I didn't know! It was just supposed to be f-for fun! Please! I’m sorry!”

The scarf-man was sitting with his legs crossed in front of Izuku. When did he sit down? He turns away from Izuku to look at the two officers who both flush white. “Koono might’ve mentioned Yabuki”

“What! No I didn’t!”

“You hinted at it!”

“How was I supposed to know the kid didn't already know!

“Would you two just leave, please.”

“Detective.”

“Hey! This is our case too.”

“There’s too many people in here, anyways. Go you two, I’ll personally call either of you if we need you.” Nighteye replies.

“Tsk’ , yeah’ okay” Koono answers. 

Scarf-man turns to Izuku again and he locks onto the man's stare. The gray eyes are familiar. They’re grounding. 

“Izuku, can you hear me?’

He nods quickly. His fingers feel tingly and he feels like he's in the room but not. His head still aches and each breath feels too short. His throat burns and his eyes feel dry and heavy. He yearns for sleep and to be anywhere but here. 

“Can you try and breathe in slowly, Izuku. Remember, like earlier. In for four.”

“No. No.  I can’t–”  He interrupts himself with a hiccup that sends pain through his chest and throat. “I-I-”

“Just try, kid. You’re okay. Just try.” And the man reaches a hand out slowly. When his fingers touch Izuku's hands that were gripping his shirt tightly, he drops them in favor of gripping the man's hand with a hold that would probably bruise. 

Scarf-man doesn’t seem to mind as he immediately moves closer and pulls both their hands to his own chest. He over-exaggerates his breathing and Izuku tries. 

When his body won't comply he sobs, frustrated. But the man is patient with him. He doesn’t yell at him or get annoyed. He just reaches his other hand out and rubs circles into his back. 

They sit on the floor and just breathe until Izukus is in pain from the hard ground. He leans forwards into the man at one point and finally closes his eyes. When his breathing regulates the man calls his name again.

“Hmm”

“Kid, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.” he rasps out quietly. 

“Midoriya,” Nighteye calls. And Izuku’s eyes open automatically, freezing as the man's voice reminds him of the earlier interrogation.  

‘I just thought you would’ve wanted an update, if you didn’t already know. So you can add it to the list of heroes you’ve deactivated so far.’

‘Did you want to hurt him too, Midoriya?’

'The people you sold the books to.'

“Midoriya.” He calls again. 

Izuku sits up and shows the hero that he has his attention, staring into unforgiving yellow eyes. 

“We need you to answer some questions for us.”

Right. Cause they think he did it. It didn't matter what he said or did or proved. They’ve been trying to blame him this whole time. They arrested him without a thought. This was the easy option. Izuku was the quirkless kid who was semi-connected to the hero hits. If they blame it on him then everyones happy. 

He moves back out of the scarf-man's grip and looks at the wall. 

“Can you do that for us, Midoriya?”

He doesn’t answer. He stares. He blinks. But he doesn’t answer. 

“Midoriya? Did you sell your hero analysis notebooks to anyone, at all?” an unfamiliar voice asks. Izuku only turns to look at the man to see who was talking. Ah. It’s trenchcoat man . The bruise on his cheek is yellow and nasty and reminds Izuku of his involvement of the raid. He looks away at that, not needing the reminder, and catches bright blue eyes that catch him off guard. 

A teenager in the police station? But he’s in civilian clothes? Maybe he’s connected to the case? Maybe he’s someone's family?

“Midoriya”

He doesn’t respond. Because it doesn’t matter. They’ll decide whatever they want anyways. This was all just to say they tried to do a fair interrogation. 

You deserve it anyways. Afterall, a hero is dead because of you.

But it wasn’t my fault.

But if you had never written the analysis in the first place, he might still be here. 

“Midoriya?”

Now that he has a second he can actually see what he did to his hands. They’re luckily not bleeding, except for the outside of his left wrist, but it's almost nothing. They were just extremely irritated, which means he was pulling on them much more than he had originally thought.

“Now’s not the time for radio silence, problem child.”

Problem child. That's exactly what Izuku was to them. A problem child was easy to blame. A problem child would take down heroes. A problem child would want to hurt one of their friends. A problem child could easily be a villain. ‘ Of course he’s a villain, there were so many signs ’. 

“Midoriya. I understand how you’re feeling,” trenchcoat man says as he walks towards him, “I know you're upset with us, and the situation, and that you’ve had a really rough day. We want to help you get this all cleared up. You just have to answer me. Did you sell your notebooks to Shimoda and Uemura, or anyone at all?”

He stares at the man with exhausted eyes. He feels heavy and swears there’s a static like noise going off somewhere. He doesn’t think he could have answered even if he wanted to.

“Midoriya, my quir-”

“Detective.”

The man's tired face twitches with heavy annoyance, “yes?”

Koono stands at the door covering the speaker of a phone with his hand. “It's the commission—or it's a rep for the commission.” He drops his hands, so the speaker was farther from his face,“she’s a real pain in the ass. For the amount of yapping she’s doing you’d think she’d actually be saying something.” He rolls his eyes and glances at Izuku curiously. “Anyways, she wants to talk to you. Guess Cap name dropped ya’.”

The detective pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a long, deep breath. “Fine,” he says, reaching for the phone.

He stays in the room as he answers the call. Izuku doesn’t even try to pay attention to the call and the man's voice quickly becomes white noise as he struggles to keep his eyes open. 

“Problem child.”

He looks at the man, who he still can’t understand why he trusts, eyes half lidded. He hums quietly and the man shakes his head looking at him concerned. 

“I know your exhausted kid. This is the last thing we need you to do. You answer the detective and we’ll be done for the day, allright? Can you do that?”

Izuku hears what he’s saying but has a hard time comprehending it. He blinks slowly, “M’sorry”

“For what, kid?” the man asks, exasperated.

“For Torpedo.”

His face sours slightly, his expressions always just barely showing through. “It wasn’t your fault, Midoriya.”

He nods slowly, “I know. But still. I helped.” He cringed at the word ‘ helped ’, knowing it wasn't what he wanted to say. He was too tired to correct himself though. 

And scarf-man began to say something else but stops mid sentence, lifting his chin as if to hear better.

“What is that?” The other teen in the room asks, moving towards the door.

Izuku closes his eyes trying to hear what they hear, but picks up nothing. 

The man on the phone pauses, making a face of complete bewilderment and disappointment. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Izuku actually tries to listen for a minute, but it's still too low to make out. Right as he’s about to give up the noises seem to grow in volume and he hears muffled yells from afar. Scarf-man stands up and the detective hangs up the phone. 

“This is so not what I needed today.”

“I thought Death Arms went to handle it.”

“Didn’t Sansa say it was just one kid?”

“I’m so sorry, mam’. I know you’re upset but please, I need you to sto-”

“Upset!” The small woman yells, “Upset! I-I- how dare you, sir! My son was arrested! Why wasn’t I notified! I-I, my baby. You should be ashamed of yourself! Upset? I’m mortified! I’m worried and livid! Upset is-”

Why? Why me? Who did I piss off? Why is this my life?

The woman in front of him has been wailing and yelling for over five minutes. The boy left after bringing her in and Sansa was too busy dealing with her to stop the brat. 

She was making even more of a scene than the boy had. And this was an adult he was dealing with. He went from looking like he couldn’t deal with a belligerent child to unable to handle an upset citizen. He didn’t have to look around to know that there were unhelpful stares of judgment from the other officers.  

“I thought it was supposed to be a kid.”

He looks over and sees the local brawler walking over. He tries not to make a face. This hero was a nice man but Sansa has been called out too many times to deal with his aftermath when he breaks proper procedure. But all’s forgiven if he could get the woman to stop crying, or to just stop making such a scene. 

“He left, but he brought Mrs. Midoriya here.”

“He shouldn't’ve had to! I should’ve been told before he was brought in! My poor baby! I want to talk to Izuku. Now. please.”

“Hold on, mam’. I know this is upsetting but your son is in the middle of an interrogation.”

Sansa feels the overwhelming need to facepalm the second the man used the word ‘ upsetting ’. Mrs. Midoriya’s soft, round eyes turn cold and dark for a second until she takes a small step back and begins her tirade once again. 

“I’m not upset! What is wrong with you people! Where is my son! I don’t give a da-” She pauses to take a breath and he prays that she’s calming herself down so they could have a nice, adult, calm conversation. “I do not care!” 

Great. This will never end. I should fake an illness. Go home sick. I’m sure Cap’ would send me home with a smile. 

Death Arms bristles, not expecting the little woman to have such a loud voice. Sansa was more impressed by the endless tears. How could the woman even still see them through the water building up constantly under her eyes?

“Mrs. Midoriya,” the hero tries again, “he’s in an interrogation.”

“So you’ve said! And he can be out of an interrogation! Preferably right now! I want to speak to him! Izuku! My son! You all are-”

As the woman screams the door opens and the blonde child from earlier that has brought all of this on walks in. He sneers at the boy who has the largest, most evil, shit eating grin Sansa has ever seen. 

The boy stands next to the green haired woman as she yells and stares Sansa directly in the eyes with that horrible smile. His eye twitches irritated beyond belief and he tries again to de-escalate, “Mrs. Midoriya! We’ve asked yo-”

The door slams open as if kicked and he’s surprised it stays on its hinges. The woman stops crying and everyone looks back at the door.

In walks a woman who looks identical to the horrible brat, minus the angry face and boyish features. 

She’s wearing purple heels and a tight, long skirt with a stylish blazer. She looks expensive and is easily one of the prettiest women Sansa has ever laid his eyes upon. 

She looks to who is obviously her son, doting, then to the blubbering woman. Her expression darkens quickly and her red irises grow so it is all you can see, the soft features disappearing. Now the woman truly looks identical to her son as she scans the room, stopping when she sees Sansa and the hero. 

I should’ve gone home.  

He feels absolute dread as the woman opens her mouth and the boy somehow smiles even wider. 

Chapter Text

“You don't have to drink it, Sensei. It’s cold now.”

The boy was right— the coffee was cold, but, “It's still caffeine.”

Mirio smiled softly, looking away. Shota took another long sip, enjoying the gift from the second year. Cold or not, coffee was much needed after the day he’s had. 

At least they finally had a moment of reprieve. Nighteye and the detective had gone to deal with the disturbance. Dumb and dumber were out of sight, which is where Shouta preferred them. And the problem child…

Well, the problem child had fallen asleep by the time the detective and nighteye stormed out the room. He was mostly relieved. The kid was exhausted. After three panic attacks, passing out, and nonstop crying all day– his body had practically shut down. 

He would’ve preferred the kid had a drink first. After all that crying there was no doubt he was dehydrated. Even more, he wished he would’ve been able to treat the wound and irritation on his wrists from his insistent tugging and fidgeting. 

But he really needed to rest. Looking at his slumped over form on the table and messy green curls, he felt the same frustrated indecision. Problem child. What the hell are we gonna do with you?

Shota knew the logical answer. He didn't like it, but he knew what was rational. 

“Sir’s been gone a while. Do you think they’re still dealing with that kid?”

“Most likely,” he answers. “Doesn’t really matter, though. There's not a lot we can do until Midoriya wakes up.”

Mirio hadn’t seemed to take his eyes off the middle schooler since he arrived at the precinct. Although this case is great experience for him, he wished he wouldn’t have to see this part of their job. 

The part when they get it wrong. It happens more often than they’d like to admit, but still, it's not extremely common. Not like Mirio would handle much of the behind the scenes when he goes pro. In Shota’s fine opinion, the boy would be front line– limelight –soon to be top 10. If his progress continued, he would be the next to succeed All Might. At least, he thinks so. 

“Poor, Midoriya.” He says.

Shota hums in quiet agreement. They really fucked this one up. Sure, they didn’t have much say in the arrest, but the interrogation? That should have been handled much differently. 

He eyes the golden haired second year, feeling slightly annoyed. Nighteye should be the upset one, not his prodigė. The adult. He should be the one feeling sympathy for the kid. Hell, they all should.

They all should have protected Midoriya more, even Shota. He should have fought harder. Defended Midoriya better. Been there for him. Kept him from hurting himself. He should’ve kept his damn promise.

Stop. Rational. 

He couldn’t change any of that. Only how they proceeded. 

Starting with letting the kid get in a damn nap. And…

Shota sighs a long, tired, exhausted , sigh.

“Sensei? You alright?”

“No.” he answers curtly, pulling out his phone. “We have a lot to do now. Midoriya is still in for a long week. Hell, weeks if we can’t figure out the underground's involvement.” He doubted they would have much trouble, though. Not as he found the rat's contact. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Nezu-

 I need you not to make this a bigger thing than it is. <<<

I need help.  <<<

>>>Oh, dear. It must be serious then. I’m all ears. What seems to be the problem, Shota?

   Midoriya, Izuku.<<<

>attached file< <<<

Read.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a second with no response, he figured the rat was already on it. Making it a bigger thing than it was. Making Shota regret messaging him in the first place. 

“What happens now? Usually?” Mirio asks, unsure. 

“Usually,” he says to the boy, pulling a chair to the back wall so he could still keep his eye on both his problem child and Mirio, “the detective is here and we can proceed. Usually.” He plops down in the chair, missing his sleeping bag that's stuffed under his desk in his classroom. “Right now, no one is going to be waking that kid up.” Not if he had anything to do with it. “We’ll go back in–in a few hours. It’ll be late by then. We’ll call the kids mom, or we should . If she’s not around then they won't bother bringing her into all this. Then get you, and the problem child some food. Then finish up for the day and continue tomorrow. Not sure if Nighteye wants you to stick through the whole case.”

“What will happen with Midoriya? Is he staying here tonight? Like under arrest?”

“If I have a say, then no. But there’s not much we can do. This case is all kinds of sensitive. Convincing people that protective custody is the best option will be a struggle. It’s a pain, but some don’t want to waste resources like that on the quirkless. Most would be of the opinion that the easiest thing would be to just throw the kid in tartarus and call it a day.”

Mirio’s bright eyes darken, his face souring. “Sir would never let that happen.”

Shota keeps the annoyed look off his face. Sir, wanted to chuck the kid in tartarus before we even talked to him.  

“Neither would you. Right, Sensei?”

No. He would not be letting that happen, ever . But in this situation, “We just have to be careful.” He meet Mirio’s stare, so he understands, “It never goes down like this. This is the rare case. We all want the best for Midoriya and that means handling it, but handling it in the dark.”

They wanted to avoid the commission, and the captain. One was much easier than the other. 

Hopefully, with Nezu’s involvement, both would be handled without any problems. There was thankfully, and strangely, no media. Which makes their lives easier. 

Midoriya’s mother was the other hurdle. He hated to agree with Nighteye, but it would be easier if she was more absent then the average mother.  It wasn’t something he was hoping for, but they needed time to close the case by the book and handle it off record. They don’t have the luxury, or time, to spend handling a scared and upset mother. 

Midoriya needed protection. They would more than likely not get that through legal means. 

And again, he found himself feeling bad for the detective, who would be handling all the paperwork. The man needed a nap more than Shota. 

“What do we do for now?” the boy asked, curious yet still seemingly unsure, missing his usual confidence.

“For now? I will be taking a page out of the problem child’s book.” he said, settling into the stiff chair and burying his face in the capture weapon. Mirio stared at him surprised, then turned back to watch the kid. 

When Shota closed his eyes he heard the boy sit down against the opposite wall. He hoped Nighteye would send him home… and leave with him. 

“Eraser…Eraser, hey… Shota!”

He cracks an eye open, annoyed. “What?”

The detective mirrors his annoyed look and Shota huffs, standing. Glancing at his problem child, he’s surprised the kid had hardly moved. He’s sure he’d nodded off for more than an hour. 

“What time is it?”

“Just after five.”

He hums. “Lemillion?”

“Went to find Nighteye when I came in.”

“Where’s he?”

His grimaces, looking far away, “Dealing with them , for me.”

He raises his eyebrow but doesn't care to actually ask who them was. 

“We should wake him up, get this closed out for the night. We can get Midoriya settled until we decide how we’re gonna handle this.”

“You are not waking him up. He’s only been out for an hour.”

 The detective nods, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “That's fine. We can wait a bit.”

“I messaged Nezu.”

“Oh, thank god. Tell me he’ll help. Please, Eraser.”

He fought a smile under the scarf, again, feeling bad for the man. This case was just one of so many for him. It’s unfortunate, but when you’re good at your job it just gets harder, especially in law enforcement. 

Tsukauchi wasn’t in charge in this precinct but was the most respected in their force. He’s even revered in neighboring cities' stations. Which means his workload triples with people asking him for assistance outside of his usual duties, which was often. 

“Don't know. He never got back to me.” He answers, checking his phone. Only a couple messages from his husband and a few work emails. Well, if you can count an email from Nemuri a ‘work’ email.

Tsukauchi groans as Shota yawns, pulling his hair out of the loose bun. 

“I’m gonna get dinner for Lemillion and Midoriya.”

“That's fine. We can wake him up when you get back then. Maybe get something for yoursel-”

When the door opened he was expecting Mirio. When the chief walked in he looked away annoyed. It could have been anyone else; the two idiots, Nighteye, All Might. Yep, even him, but the chief?

The man stumbles in, clearing his throat loudly. “Detective,” He greets Tsukauchi, “umm…” The man stares at Shota for a long moment, probably trying to remember his name. After another second he gives up and just nods at him. “Hello, then. How’s it going with Midou? Well, I assume.”

“Midoriya” They correct him together.

He glances at the boy through the glass— leaning forwards slightly, as if to get a better look at the resting child. “Yes, he is, isn't he? Hmm, well, that commission rep hasn’t bothered to call back so I’m hoping everything settled with that. I heard a commotion earlier, glad that was handled without anyone needing me. All in all a pretty quiet day, isn’t it gentlemen.”

Shota hated this man. Not as much as Tsukauchi or officer Sansa probably did, but he hated him. He was the reason he avoided this station as much as he did. The only time he’s here was when he was on a case with the detective or needed to do paperwork. 

 Again, he didn’t envy  his friend. The man had to deal with the chief on a daily basis. Shota himself hadn't spoken to his own superior since last month's debrief. 

“Yes, Captain. Quiet indeed.” Tsukauchi agrees. 

The man nods satisfied. “Alright I’ll be in my office then. Remember to call me if you need me. Detective, keep up the good work.”

As the man walks out, Tsukauchi melts tiredly, a small breath of what could be relief or genuine pain leaving him. 

“Well, I don’t think we’ll have trouble keeping him off the case.” Shota observes. 

“Good. He’s already a nightmare with quirks like Sansa’s. I couldn’t handle working with him on something involving the quirkless.”

Another thing Shota had the luxury of avoiding. The team-ups every now and then were inevitable, sure. But for the most part, Shota was able to work solo. He didn’t have a problem working in groups, but he definitely preferred working alone, a preference the detective couldn’t have. 

“At least he won’t be bothering us much,” Shota says, stretching. His phone pings and he prays it's  the rat. “He was wrong, though. The commission doesn’t just forget about anything so we still have them to deal with, since you hung up on the rep.”

Tsukauchi looks at him annoyed and he hides his half smile behind his scarf. “I’m dealing with a lot today, Eraser. This isn’t my only case, Midoriya’s on his third panic attack, I have civilians yelling in the station, I have to deal with the table you broke, and handle this case alone while still doing legal paperwork.”                                             

“I know.” He says, shrugging. “I was just reminding you that you might have to call them back before they show up here. That would only add to your problems. And the table’s still standing.”

“I’m sending Hizashi the bill.”

“He’s busy.”

“If I send it to you–you’ll never pay it.”

“No need to send anything. Table seems fine.”

“You broke the cuff connection, Eraser.”

“It was hurting the kid.”

“I have the keys.”

“You weren’t fast enough.”

“You’re paying for the table”

He shrugs, again. He would not be paying for the table. He’s broken worse in the precinct and not paid a thing. 

“Who’s gonna fix the microwave?”

“That you broke!”

They’re argument is interrupted by the door swinging open. A blonde woman walks in, aggressively yet gracefully. Behind her, a grumpy looking Death Arms. 

The color from Tsukauchi’s face drains as the woman looks around the room, her gaze falling on the kid. 

She gasps, “Oh, Izuku.” She says worriedly, clutching her hands to her chest.

He wonders if this is the kid’s mom but the detective steps forwards, “Mrs. Bakugou-”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s just resting. He’s had a long day,” Shota answers.

She nods, glancing at the hero with teary eyes. 

“You’re not his mother?” he asks.

Tsukauchi shakes his head and the woman wipes her eyes, “No. I– she’s in the– I didn’t want her to have to see– she shouldn’t have to-”

Death Arms steps forwards to console the overwhelmed woman and Tsukauchi grabs a tissue box from the table. 

“Thank you,” she says, accepting their aid. “May I see him, please? Izuku, he’s probably so terrified.”

“Not yet, ma’m”

“I didn’t want to wake him yet.” Shota explains. “We’re gonna grab him something to eat and wake him then, so he can rest a bit longer.”

She nods, staring down at the floor. She seems more composed but Shota’s trained to notice the little things, like her white knuckled grip on her purse strap. “Yes, that's a good idea. Katsuki needs to eat as well.” She looks back up at the raven-haired hero, “Will you get me after you wake him, please. I need to be able to tell his mother something good— that he’s okay.”

He nods and Tsukauchi reassures her, “Of course.”    

His phone pings again and he digs it out of his pocket. The message from earlier was a paragraph from Mic that he would read later, and the newest message was from Nezu. It was unfortunately just a shared location of the precinct. 

He looked at it questioningly, frustrated. The damn rat always messages him with random long texts and emails. The one time he’d like more than a one word message, he doesn’t even get that. 

He hands the detective his phone and the man raises an eyebrow to Shota who just shrugs. 

He hands the phone back. “Mrs. Bakugou, let's get you back out to your son. You can get him some food and Midoriya should be up by the time you get back.” Death Arms holds the door as they leave and Tsukauchi motions for Shota to follow.             

He would not be doing that. He’s not leaving the kid alone. 

Tsukauchi falls back, “I’ll be right there.” Leaving just them again. 

“Eraser.”

“No.”

“Shota.”

“No reason for me to leave.”

“Pretty sure that message means that Nezu is here.”

He’d come to that conclusion as well. But still, “I’m not leaving him.”

The man looks at him, annoyed.

“It’s irrational. What if he wakes up. What if he freaks out again.”

“Did you see him earlier? He’s not waking up anytime soon. He’ll be fine, it's not like we’re going far.”

“No.”

“Eraser.”

“Something bad will happen. I’m staying.”

“What is gonna happen?” he asks exasperated. 

He points to the kid, “ Problem child .”

“Seriously?”

“He’s a magnet for bad luck. I mean look what his hobby turned into.”

“Now who’s being irrational.”

Eraser looked at the sleeping boy. He wasn’t being irrational. Midoriya had shit luck. If he left him alone the station would probably burn down with him in it. 

The detective held the door open, “Now, Eraser. Or I’ll tell Mic the only thing you’ve eaten today was half a jelly pack and cold coffee.”

He glared at him, glancing back at his problem child. 

Be rational.

He’ll be fine.  

“Someone needs to watch him.”

Tsukauchi nods, grabbing his radio. “I’ll call someone.”

“Not the idiots.”

He gives him a disappointed look, “They’re on the case.”

“Just Sakatsume then.”

“Fine.” he said, motioning to the door. 

He’ll be fine. 

He leaves the room with a final glance to the kid, ignoring the detective's half smile. 

As they walk, he tries to tune out Tsukauchi’s grumbling about Mrs. Bakugou giving him a headache. The woman had seemed normal enough, not difficult enough to be bothering the tired detective. 

He’s ultimately glad he came when they reach the front and see the woman sitting down with a boy who’s obviously her son and another woman who he can guess is Midoriya’s mother talking to an exuberant Nezu. Behind the rat is Nighteye, Mirio, and, to his delight and surprise, his husband. 

“-and I’m the principal of U.A. High School!”

“Dear god”

“Thank god” 

“I’ll be aiding these fine people regarding Midoriya Izuku!”

“This is about those little notebooks? Izuku just writes about heroes that he loves. I don't understand.”  The green haired woman was gripping Mrs. Bakugou's hand and thick tears trickled down her face. 

The teen sat quietly with a sour look. He watched the crying woman from the corner of his eye, his foot fidgeting. He seemed to be half anxious-half annoyed if Shota was reading him right.                         

Although he looked a little different from the poorly done drawings, this was most likely the ‘Kacchan’ in Midoriya’s notebooks. The boy with the explosion quirk. From Shota’s deduction in the way Midoriya spoke about this boy, he had assumed they were hardly friends. He had surmised that Midoriya was bullied by the boy, but knowing he was the one causing problems all day regarding Midoriya— he wondered if he was actually wrong about that. 

Maybe they were friendlier than he thought. 

“I knew those stalker notebooks would get that nerd in trouble one of these days.”

“Shut it, Katsuki!” The older Bakugou yells, lightly smacking her son on the back of his head.

The boy grits his teeth annoyed, “What! Look where he is!”

She smacks him again and he rolls his eyes, slouching forwards and bouncing his knee. 

“Indeed, Midoriya seems to have gotten himself into some trouble. Accidentally, I believe. A couple of those notebooks seem to have gotten into the hands of some less than legal parties.”

The green haired woman releases her grip on Mrs. Bakugou to throw her head in her hands. “Oh, Izuku. What did you do?” She says quietly. 

Mrs. Bakugou lightly rubs her back and looks to Nezu, “What do we do now? How do we help Izuku?”

“Well, most of this will be handled by me! And the fine people behind me as well. All you three have to do is be there for Midoriya as I believe today was a lot for him.”

“So the nerds not arrested?”

Mrs. Bakugou gives her son an annoyed glance, but otherwise keeps her attention on Mrs. Midoriya. 

“Not for long! We of course have to go through the process of confessions and finding out how we got here in the first place. But like I said, Midoriya seems to have gotten here by accident.”

“Of course! Sweet Izuku would never do anything wrong like this! I knew this was all a mix up.”

“A very large mix-up, unfortunately. One that is not easily cleaned up. Sorry to be so forward but I believe some haste is warranted. Mrs. Midoriya, we believe your son may be in danger of being targeted by certain underground organized crime groups. I would like your permission to make him a temporary ward of U.A.. I believe it’s the safest option for both of you.”

“U.A.?” The boy asks, looking at the rat questioningly. 

“A ward? In danger? Oh dear god.” The woman complains, overwhelmed. 

“Becoming a ward of U.A. isn’t as serious as it sounds.” Shota clarifies, “All of our students are technically wards of the school, given that the school is fully prepared to take a student in under any circumstance, if needed. It just means that Izuku would be under U.A.’s protection. Like any other student.”

“Deku’s going to U.A.?”

“For protection, yes. I would like him to at least. It’s up to you, Mrs. Midoriya. It’s better than having him stay here or another location through the city. Unfortunately sending him home is not an option any of us agree with. Once all this has settled down and Midoriya is cleared as not being in danger then you of course will be able to take him home.”

The woman squeezes her eyes shut in deep thought for a moment before she looks at Nezu with fierce determination. She nods at him, agreeing to allow U.A. to temporarily shelter the boy, “protect my son.”

Nezu’s beady black eyes gleam as he bows slightly, “You have my word.” 

“How about tonight?” Mrs. Bakugou asks. “Where is Izuku staying today?”

The detective speaks up, stepping forwards slightly, “We were gonna have him stay here for the night.”

“No! Absolutely not! Izuku’s not staying in a cell like some villain!”

“Mitsuki!”

“He can stay with us tonight.”

“Eh!?”

“We’ll protect him till you can take him to the fancy school.”

“I don-”

“That will be acceptable.” Nezu interrupts the detective. “Midoriya has been fine at home for the last few months his notebooks have been missing, he should be okay staying another night outside of U.A. while we get his living situation settled. Of course, I’ll be sending an extra protection for the night, just to be safe. And we still have to keep Izuku for a few more hours, fill some of the gaps in this story.”

Mrs. Bakugou nods, satisfied, while her son glares at her angrily. 

“You are of course welcome to join your son on campus if you would like Mrs. Midoriya. Or if it's easier for your work, maybe stay with Mrs. Bakugou if she would have you. Whichever you decide, I would prefer you don’t stay at your current home until we clear your son.”

The way the two women acted towards each other told Shota that the blonde wouldn’t think twice about housing the other for any length of time. If it wasn’t for the lack of any resemblance he would’ve guessed they were sisters, purely on the way they treated one another. 

Mrs. Midoriya nods, wiping her tears with her sleeve. 

“Well we shouldn’t waste the day. There's much to do!”

Mrs. Bakugou combs the hair by her son's ear lovingly as he tries to bat her away, smiling at him as he grits his teeth angrily. She looks up at Nezu, “I need to feed this brat. We can pick something up for Izuku as well while you guys finish what you need to do.”

“We have already gotten food for Midoriya but you three should go get food as well! We should finish up in a few hours.”

“And Dek- Izuku’s fine? He’ll leave today?” the boy asks, looking to the side with an angry scowl. 

“Yes, Izuku Midoriya is alright. He will go home with you three tonight.”

He raises an eyebrow, turning his glare to the rat. “Then he’ll go to U.A.? As a student?”

“He’s going to U.A. for protection. Whether or not he becomes a student after his current school year is up to him and his results if he decides to take the entrance exams.”

The boy looks away, still angry, and nods slightly. 

Mrs. Bakugou stands, pulling the green haired woman to her feet. “We’ll be back,” She said with a sweet smile, but Shota heard the threat in her tone, “take care of Izuku.” And when she made that demand she looked at Nezu first, then Shota. He nods as she holds his gaze and hers darkens before she turns to dote over her son. 

As the three leave, Nezu clears his throat. “Mrs. Midoriya. I would like to formally apologize. This situation became more stressful for you then it should have, and for Izuku as well. I will see to it that this will be handled with more care then it has been so far. You have my word that your son will be protected and his skills will be encouraged to be practiced safely.”

She turns back, relentless tears budding in her bright green eyes, “You’ll protect him?”

“I will.” The rat promises, and he says it with so much promise that Shota doubts anyone would have protested. 

“We all will.” Nighteye promises as well and he almost loses the fight against rolling his eyes dramatically in front of civilians.               

The blonde boy stares at Nighteye for a long moment and Shota has the feeling he knows exactly who the hero is. Although he was hiding it well, he seemed genuinely worried for Midoriya’s well being. He was in the classroom when Midoriya was arrested. It must have been scary to watch his friend(?) be hauled out in handcuffs mid-class. Then seeing the principal of the most popular hero school and the number one’s former sidekick handling the case? It was probably a lot for this boy as well. 

His mother shoves his head lightly, encouraging him to move. The three walk out and Mrs. Midoriya looks back with a worried expression as the door closes. 

“Right then! I have some parties I would like to talk to! Detective, if you would kindly show me to Nobuyuki Shimoda.”

“Right.” Tsukauchi says with a sigh, turning on his heel.

“Wait.” Death Arms says, looking between the group confused. “What the hell is happening? How did you even know about all the details of the case? We just interrogated the kid and you weren't even here?” He asks Nezu.

Tsukauchi shakes his head waving his hand as the local hero talks, “No, no, no. I don't care. I don't care how he knows. He’s helping.”

“You aren't concerned he hacked into the station's security system or anything? How he knows so much on the kids' case? On what our opinions are about the case? How he basically just hijacked your whole investigation?”

“No.” he repeats, turning and running his hand through his hair. 

“Detective.”

“I don't care. We needed help. He’s helping. Shut up about everything else. It's fine. Nezu, Shimoda’s here.” 

The Rat follows with a smile, addressing the underground hero as he walks by, “Shota. I’m very glad you reached out to me, this was a problem indeed.”

“What did you do?” He asks accusingly. 

He lifts his paw as Shota watches him turn down the hall, “Present Mic will explain.”

He glances at his husband, who is glaring at him meanly. He was wearing civilian clothes, stray strands of hair falling from his messy bun, holding a jacket and black backpack in hand. 

“Now what do we do, Sir?”

Hizashi steps forwards handing Nighteye a small bag from the backpack, “You should probably head home soon, listener. Nezu says it's been a long day for everyone!” He says smiling at the second year kindly. 

Nighteye looks through the bag as he answers, “Mirio’s working through his work study right now, Mic. But yes, I think we’ll cut it a little shorter today.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Hizashi says walking to Shota now. 

Death Arms watches everyone with an annoyed, tired expression before he makes his way to what he assumes was the break room.

“Love.” he says as his husband approaches him, hiding his smile in his capture weapon. Though he was surprised he was here, he was also happy to see him after such a shitty day.

“Do not ‘love’ me.”

He gives him a confused look. The man usually loved lovey-dovey nicknames, and Shota rarely used them. “Why?”

“Cause have you seen yourself, Shota?” he asks exasperated. “You look dead.”

He looks away, annoyed, “I took a nap.”

“You need 8 hours, Sho! More since you don't sleep all night – like – ever.”

“M’fine, Zashi. Calm down.”

“Love. Don’t ever tell me to calm down.”

He smiles again, nodding. “Right, my bad.”

“Mhm, now where's the listener? I was told he hasn’t had dinner.” Hizashi says, pushing a bag into his hands as he walks by him, evidently looking for the problem child. 

“What's this?”

“Dinner.” Ah, so that's what he gave Nighteye. 

“For the problem child?” 

“For you, Sho! You need to eat, too. Did you forget that you can’t live off jelly pouches and caffi- Did you say problem child ? Shota you can't say that!”

“Have you met him?”

He rolls his eyes, “No, obviously. Let’s go, his food will get cold.”

He starts to walk towards the interrogation room, Hizashi following behind him, “You can’t talk to him, Zashi.”

“Wha- WHY!”

He looked back, flashing his quirk at the man, receiving an angry look and rude gesture.

“Because he doesn’t trust anyone right now. I don’t want to overwhelm him by adding more people in that room. We’re gonna make this as easy as possible, which means familiar faces only.”

The man pouts but Shota knows he wouldn’t push it.

He hopes the kid is still asleep as they walk, Mic falling by his side grabbing another bag out of the backpack for their newly acquired problem child. 

“I already saids everything I wanted to say. Aren't you all tired of hearing the same show?”

“Different questions, Shimoda.”

The man looks up at Naomasa’s voice and he smiles at him sultrily. “Detective tall, tired, and handsome! Good to see you back. I thought they were gonna bring the stray back in.”

He rolls his eyes trying not to feel uncomfortable with the man who wouldn’t stop flirting with him. That was why he decided to have Sansa take lead on interrogation, though that decision seemed to have been a poor one.

The Stout had followed him in and was now climbing the chair to be on the other side of Shimoda. He decides to stand on the chair instead of sitting and leans forwards on the table as he greets the Yakuza member, “Hello. Nobuyuki Shimoda, correct?”

“What are you?” He asks, deadpanning the rat-like creature. 

“I’m the one that could be a mouse or a dog or a bear, but the most important thing is, I’ll be your interrogator today!”

Shimoda glares boredly, yawning. “Okay.” he draws. 

“I have a couple of questions regarding Midoriya Izuku.”

“Never heard of her.”

“Shimoda.” Naomasa warns. 

He rolls his eyes, picking at his nails, “Right. The little green kid. What’a bout ‘em.”

“You said that he sold the notebooks to you and your colleague.”

“I did say that.”

“Is that statement still accurate?”

“I would say so.” he says, with a playful smile.

This is why he hated holding people at the station. The regular drunks and alley thugs that are in and out every night knew his quirk, and unfortunately, they loved to talk. Shimoda’s been here for a few days, which means he’s had plenty of time to hear about his quirk and know some of the tricks to have his lie detector pull an inconclusive result.

“Shimoda.”

“Yes, sugar?”

Damn it. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, dropping his head to hide the inevitable blush that creeps its way up his neck. 

Why? Why me?

He’s grateful when Nezu pulls the young thugs' focus, letting him collect himself. He really wished his quirk wasn’t vital to this interrogation. He was a detective before he was a glorified polygraph machine, but he had to admit, it made things easier.  

“Yourself, Yasu Uemura, Ayame Yukawa, and Saburo Osada all had similar stories. The tale so far would be that Izuku Midoriya searched you and Uemura out on his lonesome and offered to sell you volume nine, the first analysis copy you received. Then you sought him out for another copy and he blissfully obliged. Does my recollection of the events sound about right?”

Shimoda shrugged, “If that's how you remember it.” Then he smirked at Naomasa, winking. “You know Detective, that bruise looks good on you. Makes you look tough. Rugged.”

He greatly misses his lost fedora. Another tragedy from the raid. He misses being able to duck his chin slightly and be able to hide his embarrassment.  

“I don't understand the issue here.” Shimoda says, laying his head on his hands, “those notebooks were just like guides. Like maps or something. Tools or whatever. What's the word I’m lookin’ for?”

“Support gear? “

“Oh! And he's smart too! Yeah, support gear! That sounds about right. Why’s it all so important?”

“The issue, Shimoda.” Nezu says, his eyes darkening instantly, “Is that I just had a conversation with Yasu Uemura.”’

Lie.

He twitches slightly at the unexpected lie. Where was he going with this?

“According to him, you, and you alone, stole both notebooks from the boy. He and your other two colleagues had nothing to do with procuring the notebooks. It was all you. ”

Lie.

The color from Shimoda’s face drains and Naomasa almost feels bad when he flashes a shocked look of betrayal.

“W-wha- That's not true!”

“He said that you threatened the boy.”

“I never touched a hair on his green little head.”

“Uemura said-”

“He’s lying!”

“Endangering a minor-”

“Detective truth! Tell em’! I didn’t hurt the kid! I never even talked to him!”

Truth. 

“Now how could you have bought the notebooks if you never even talked to Midoriya.” Nezu says, shaking his head in thought. “It doesn’t take a lie detection quirk to know that– that’s not true.”

He glared at the rat, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t hurt kids.”

“We have reason to believe otherwise.” 

“Uemura’s lying. That damn snake.”

Naomasa clears his throat, walking from the edge of the room he was trying to hide in towards the table. He eyes Nezu, silently asking if he could interject. He was pretty sure the principal had a plan and he was also pretty sure he understood it for the most part. But if he didn’t— he didn’t want to ruin whatever he was doing. 

But Nezu smiles and slightly nods, giving him the go ahead. Shimoda was looking around anxiously. He was definitely feeling betrayed by the other yakuza members and was also trying to avoid child endangerment charges but, “there are holes in this story, Shimoda. We need you to help us clear them up, otherwise we’re going to have to hear Uemura out.”

“He’s lying! I don't know why he would say it was all me when it was his idea.”          

“What was?”

The man looks down, biting his lower lip, probably deliberating on telling the truth or asking for a lawyer again. He brushes the hair out of his face looking back at Nezu, “Look, we.. we didn’t even know, alright? It was all dumb luck. An accident.”

The rat squints his soulless black eyes at him, “What was, exactly?”

“Well you see, I was doing this perfectly legal trade with a buddy of mine-”

Lie.

“Shimoda.”

“I would recommend you don’t lie to us for this portion.” Nezu says, leaning back slightly. 

The man shifts, again looking uncomfortable. “Alright, just know this was in the past detective. I’m a changed man.” he says, winking at Naomasa. “I was doing a drug deal– and I know what you're thinking! Pretty Nobuyuki Shimoda? Doing drugs?”

“Shimoda.”

“The horror.”

“Shimoda stop.”

“I’ve been clean for over two weeks, detective! You should be proud!”

Truth.

“Shimoda, I don’t care”

“Ouch. You wound me, detective. Too bad it's hard to stay mad at a cute face like yours.”

“We are dealing with very serious topics and very serious charges.” Nezu says, “Ones that we were told were carried out solely by you.”

“Alright, alright. I get it, roadkill. Hold your horses, I’m getting there. So— I was waiting for my fix under this bridge near the reserve in the housing district. He was late and it was getting late so I went to scram when I saw the notebook on the floor. Caughts my eye when I saw the drawing of the ninja guy in top ten, y’know. I swear I didn’t know what it was, it was pure luck I decided to pick it up.

Anyways, I thought some of the writings and stuff were cool, so I showed it to Uemura. He found it more interesting than I did, y’know with his quirk.” He shrugs, blowing the hair out of his eye and slouching in the chair. 

“He showed it to the bosses, Yukawa and Osada. They liked it a lot and used it for a couple months. Honestly, I think it kept our little group afloat for as long as it did. Then they asked for another copy. Then, we found out ‘Izuku Midoriya’ was like twelve.”

“How’d you get volume ten?” Naomasa asks.

“We watched the kid for a couple days, saw he was carrying around another one. We took it from his bag when he left the thing alone. Like I said, I never even talked to him.”

“Why did you both say that Midoriya had sold the notebooks when we asked before?” he asks, confused. 

Shimoda shrugs, his hands fidgeting on the table, “Tha’s what we told the bosses. Y’know, you don’t want it getting back that you lied to a Yakuza leader, even if it's somethin’ small. Thugs like me get killed for that shit. It just seemed easier. No harm in a little white lie, y’know.”

No. He didn’t know. Because there was a lot of harm done. They have a scared, exhausted kid in the other room cause of that stupid lie. 

“There was much harm done, unfortunately. That’s all the questions I had, Detective! I have someone else I’d like to talk to now.” Nezu says, back to his cheery state as he climbs off the chair. 

“That’s it? You guys woke me up to ask like two questions? Seriously?”

“Seriously.” he answers, following the Stout out. 

When they escape the room, Nezu holds his chin in thought for a long minute before turning to Naomasa. “Detective, would you kindly take me to Midoriya Izuku. I think it’s about time we meet.”

“Are you kidding……… don't ever listen………me, Zashi”

“What?……… say anything………calm down………..listener.”

“I said………… wait with the officer……… that hard?”

“Yes.”

Izuku buries his head in his arms, trying to block out the hushed voices. He groans quietly, protesting at his stiff muscles. He was too tired to wake up, yet. One of the voices makes a long ‘ shhhhhh’ sound and the sudden quiet helps lull Izuku back into his blissful sleep. 

“Problem child”

Izuku's eyes are suddenly open when that nickname reminds his foggy, tired mind where he was. 

When did I fall asleep? How long was I asleep?

Smack!

“Ow.” a familiar, monotone voice complains.

“Don’t say that, Sho!” the other voice says in a loud whisper. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna talk.”

“I said I wouldn’t talk to him, not to you.”

“That's not what you said.”

“You’re being mean to the listener.”

“I’m being accurate.”

Izuku hears scrambling but decides to stay in his curled up state, fainting sleep. 

“Stop it, Zashi.”

“Then be nice. Or I’m kicking you out.”

“You can’t-”

“Try me, Shota.”

After a second of silence, Izuku hears shuffling and someone unzipping what he assumed was a backpack.

Maybe he should go back to sleep. The mere suggestion seemed to be all his body needed as his heavy eyelids shut and his stiff muscles relaxed. He was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, barely able to string a thought together for more than a second. 

“Kid.”

“ Better .”

“Shut it.”

“ You shut it.”

Izuku put on his best performance, trying to convince scarf man and whoever he was with that he was asleep. He didn’t want to go through all that again. If he had to, he at least wanted to do it with a couple more hours of sleep. He could feel the tiredness in his bones. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep but he knew it wasn’t long enough. He was still completely drained. 

“Kid.”

Please leave me alone. Please.

“Kid… if you’re gonna pretend to sleep you need to pretend to breathe too.”

Damn it. 

He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, opening his eyes and sitting up slowly. Actually, all his movements are horribly slow as he rubs his eyes. He looks at the scarf man sheepishly, embarrassed. What kind of worthless deku can’t even pretend to be asleep.

“You good?”

He blinks tiredly and nods, stealing glances at the man standing behind scarf man. He's tall and blonde and staring at Izuku as if extremely concerned. He honestly didn't want to deal with more people right now, more people who were going to tell him he was some rotten villain. 

He looks down at the table, desperately wanting to rest on it again and squeaks out a quiet, “sorry.” It was barely audible, his throat too dry to get any volume. 

Izuku glances up at the light thud on the table, scarf man setting a water bottle in front of him. He eyes the bottle and the man for a second, dumbly, still not quite all there. 

“Drink.” he says, cracking the lid for him and moving it even closer. 

He hurries to do what the man says, his scary demeanor from earlier in the day returning. He drinks the water obediently, and once it hits the back of his dry throat he can’t stop. He starts to chug it like it would be taken away from him any second, cause it might.

The man who’s no longer in front of him taps the end of the water bottle roughly, causing a hiccup in Izuku's frantic drinking. He spills a little and the cold, refreshing water dribbles down his chin. “Slow down, Problem Child. There’s more water. If you choke we’re gonna have a whole other problem.”

He clears his throat, taking a couple more slower sips. He pauses only to mutter another quiet apology. The man had moved his chair to Izuku’s side of the table and was rummaging through a black backpack and the blonde was glaring at the raven haired man angrily. 

Izuku finishes the bottle wiping the spilled water with his sleeve, wincing as his irritated wrist stings painfully. He was fine . He was used to pain. Comparatively, this was nothing. But it was also something he’s never felt before and new pain seemed to always be worse even if it was less than what he was used to. 

Another water bottle is set in front of him with another muttered ‘drink’ from the man as he pulls out supplies from the bag, setting it on the table. 

“Thank you.” Izuku says, as he downs the second. 

He drinks carefully this time, not wanting to be chastised again. He gets about three quarters down before he stops, satisfied.

He puts another one on the table, probably wanting to assure Izuku that there was indeed more so he didn’t have to preserve the one he had. He also sets a bento box in front of him, which Izuku again stares at dumbly. 

Scarf man wasn’t exactly nice but Izuku was grateful that he was patient. He opens the box and cracks the chopsticks open, handing them to him with nothing more than a harsh, “Eat.”

He blushes lightly, embarrassed. He was usually more competent than this but the lack of sleep might be worse than he thought. 

The food smelled good. Which was surprising because he wasn’t the biggest fan of curry, at least not his moms. But the simple rice and curry in front of him could’ve been the best meal Izuku ever had by the way he attacks it eagerly, the smell alone making his stomach growl loudly. 

He was so hungry, he hadn’t even questioned the fact that someone made this. Someone made this and had given it to him. The villain. The quirkless kid. The murderer. If he was in his right state of mind he would’ve wondered why they even bothered feeding him. 

The room stayed silent as Izuku eats, scarf man setting something up on the table that he didn’t bother to look at. When he’s finished, leaving not even a grain of rice left, the man sets another curry bento box in front of him. 

Izuku looks at him confused, and the man nods towards the food, “Eat, Problem Child.”

He doesn’t, feeling a bit more level headed now. Yes, he was still hungry, but there was no way they made two for him. This was definitely someone else's meal that he was not going to be stealing. It was probably for the other boy that was here earlier. 

“Midoriya.”

He shakes his head, setting down the chopsticks.

Scarf man sighs, leaning towards Izuku, “You’re not hungry?”

He hesitates before shaking his head again.

The man nods towards the bento, “I’m not gonna make you eat it, but if you’re hungry then eat, kid. We brought extra for a reason.”

He highly doubts that, by the way the blonde is glaring at the other. Maybe this was his food. Izuku’s not eating his food. He shakes his head again. 

Scarf man shrugs, “Otherwise it’s going to waste.”

He pauses, looking down at the meal. It was warm and tasty and he was still so hungry. “Really?” he asks quietly, not able to shake the guilt that he might be stealing someone’s dinner. 

“Really, kid. It’s yours. So eat, before it gets cold.”

He knows he shouldn’t, even as he grabs the chopsticks again to dig into the second helping. “Thank you, Sc–” He pauses, realizing he was about to call Scarf Man– Scarf Man. 

He nods, drinking from his own water as him and the blonde seem to have a silent conversation. That or they’re having a very expressive staring contest. Izuku’s tired enough that it could probably be either. 

He gets a little more than halfway done before he begins to feel full. He closes the bento and thanks the man again, who just grunts, moving the box aside. 

Then he holds his hand out silently asking Izuku for… something. He panics slightly, not having anything to actually give the man. After a second he gives the man the only thing he has, his hand, hoping that's what he wanted. Otherwise that would be extremely embarrassing and Izuku would actually crawl under the table to hide forever.

Scarf man grips his hand gently, turning it over. He pulls Izuku’s uniform sleeve up and reveals a red wrist with early stage bruising. He turns his hand again until the small cut on the bone of his wrist is facing upwards. 

He mutters what sounds like ‘ Problem Child’ and Izuku's face turns red. He didn’t mean to injure himself. He wasn’t even conscious of it at the time. He was distracted by pleading his innocence to one of his favorite heroes. Well, he used to be one of his favorites anyways. 

When Izuku looks down at the table he sees what scarf man had been setting up as he was eating. Medical supplies. 

He frowns. It wasn’t that bad. He’s had far worse and none of it had ever been treated before. He had tried once but all he did was piss off the busy nurse at his school. He eventually learned to just disinfect it if it was an open wound and wrap it up. It would all heal eventually.

“You didn’t think to stop tugging at it when it started hurting?”

“Umm… it didn’t hurt that bad. Only towards the end.”

The man looks up at the other quiet man with a raised brow and Izuku looks away, embarrassed. 

He holds still as he begins to clean and bandage his wrists, biting his tongue at the familiar sting of the disinfectant. For once, pain that was familiar, pain that he could handle. 

He eyes both men as scarf man works. The quiet one was watching both Izuku and the other intently. His green eyes were piercing and made him look away every time they accidentally made eye contact. The other was focused on his task, muttering out complaints every now and then.

As he was thinking about him Izuku realized he couldn’t continue to call the scary stranger ‘Scarf Man’ in his head. He was afraid that he would actually end up calling him that and then Izuku would be mortified and be forced to break out of jail to save himself from the embarrassment.        

“Um, Sir? What’s your name?”

He gives him a surprised look and Izuku scrambles, “Oh, I just mean– I don’t actually know what to call you and I– nevermind.”

He tried to tug back his wrist but he had a firm but gentle hold on it. He turns it again to treat the inside. “Aizawa. That’s Mic,” he says nodding towards the other. 

“Hey, listener! Nice to meet you.” the blonde says. His face had been stuck between concerned and glaring since he’s been in the room, so his cheery state surprised the boy. He was expecting a personality closer to the other blonde, officer Sakatsume.                 

“Hello,” he answers, quietly. His head still felt like static, but he felt more in control. Less like he would pass out any second. 

With that clarity slowly coming back to him he was realizing things weren't right. Why was he out of handcuffs? Where are the officers and Nighteye? Why are they feeding him and being nice to him? Why are they treating his injuries? Injuries he caused. 

Izuku was a murderer in their eyes. He had been the reason for Torpedo’s death. His notebooks had caused a dozen heroes to end their careers. He had probably hurt countless more. 

He didn't deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. 

He pulls back again, this time a tad more successful. Aizawa hadn’t let him get far though, catching his hand and maneuvering it back to where he wanted it so he could clean it easily. 

When Izuku fights against the hold, Aizawa's grip tightens and he gives the boy a testing look. 

Something on his face must betray his emotion because the grip loosens, but doesn't release, and he lightly tugs on Izuku’s arm to grab his attention. 

Izuku doesn’t give it. His eyes downcast, tears budding. He just can’t. 

“Midoriya?”

“Why?” he mumbles, tears budding. 

A beat later and the other man, Mic, says, “What was that, Listener?”

“Why?” Izuku asks, louder, a few stray tears escaping. 

“ Why , what, Kid?

He tugs harder, frustrated when he’s not released. He looks at the man with teary eyes, “Why are you– why treat me?”

Aizawa gives him an exasperated look– or well, exasperated for Aizawa. Honestly, the man’s face rarely migrated from the bored, uncaring state. But there was slight emotion in his eyes, and at times his true emotion would shine through for a second before he corrected it quickly, returning to default Scarf Man . 

“Because you’re injured.” He states bluntly, as if Izuku wasn’t aware of the obvious. 

“But I- it was my fault. I did it to myself.” He cries. 

“Yes, you did.”

“So why-”

“That doesn't mean your injuries shouldn’t be treated.” He begins to wrap Izuku’s wrist, struggling more than he should’ve had to, with Izuku still attempting to pull his hand back. 

“I don’t understand.” He says, wiping his eyes with his other sleeve. 

Aizawa taps the bandage lightly, above the bruising, “If you don’t treat open wounds then they can infect. Then it only gets worse. And if you tend to your bruising then the pain will be lessened, it’ll heal faster.”

His frustration grows, “I know that. But why are you helping me? I, I’m a-”

“You’re a child. Who’s injured. Who needs help.”

“But I- I kill-”

“No. You didn’t. Torpedo died because of his own mistakes.” 

Izuku had thought much the same earlier, “But if I hadn’t written that analysis than maybe he would’ve-”

He lowers Izuku’s wrist and leans forwards so he had no choice but to look him in the eyes. 

“If you hadn’t written that analysis then Torpedo might’ve died anyway. It was wrong of us to say that you had any blame to shoulder. You told me you didn’t sell the notebooks, right?”

He nods. 

“Which means that you didn’t have any intentions of hurting anyone, right?”

“I didn’t,” he answers quietly, “but Nighteye said-”

“Nighteye’s a dumbass.”

“SHO!”

“Wh- No he’s not!”

“Of course he is.”

“He’s a pro hero! He was All Might’s sidekick! He’s amazing!”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow and reaches out expectantly, motioning for Izuku’s other hand.

He reluctantly complies, still not understanding why he was insistent on treating the wounds. He did it to himself. The man said it himself, Izuku should’ve stopped when it started hurting. He should be the one who has to treat them, instead of burdening Scarf Man. 

“He’s an ass.”

“SHOta!”

Izuku flinches at the volume and Aizawa glares at the blonde, his eyes glowing red like they had in the classroom this morning. His hair defies gravity as the other man's loud shout dies out to a much lower volume. 

Bells ring in Izuku’s head and if he was a little more there – he would’ve been able to figure out what had just subconsciously clicked in his mind. But when the raven haired man blinks he’s back to normal, talking to Izuku and rolling up his sleeve. 

“Everything he said would apply to someone who had every intention to put others in harm's way. That is something that you did not do. You’re not a villain, Izuku— you’re a child.”

Just when he had thought he had a handle on the tears his control breaks again at the man's words. 

“A child who deserves to have their injuries treated, regardless if those injuries were self-inflicted or not. A child who deserves to be given a meal after a hard, long day.”

He’s grateful when he feels the sting of the disinfectant. It helps him hold back his embarrassing sobs that were threatening to escape. He lets the pain ground him, slightly annoyed when the feeling leaves just as quick as it had come. 

“You didn’t deserve what happened today, Midoriya. You’re a problem child and you have shit luck, but you didn’t deserve to be treated like a villain.”

Izuku cries as Aizawa finishes wrapping his wrist. He really needed to hear that. That Torpedo, and Miss Blossom, and Medusa, and X-haust, and all of them… that they weren’t his fault. Whether or not Izuku truly believed it was a different story, but he needed to hear it. After being told all day that he was a villain, a problem child, a Deku; he really needed to hear someone tell him he wasn’t.

He was on the edge of breaking down, of just giving up. He was so tired and felt like no one was in his corner. He felt alone. But Scarf Man had made him feel less so. If it wasn't for him Izuku would’ve…. well… drowned. 

He finishes the bandage, releasing his wrist. He wishes he would’ve paid attention to Aizawa wrapping them. The bandages looked a thousand times better than anything Izuku had ever attempted to do. 

It was done by practiced, skilled hands. Sure, Izuku was practiced– but he was anything but skilled. If he would’ve been watching then he might’ve actually learned something. Had been able to be less useless when he inevitably gets hurt again at school. Unfortunately, he was too busy crying his eyes out like a child. 

Aizawa puts the supplies back in the bag and stands. He looks down at the boy and sighs, then he bowes. “I apologize, Midoriya. I made you a promise that I didn’t keep.”

Izuku short circuits, then aggressively sputters, “Wh-! Wait! You don’t need to do that Scarf- Sir- Mr. Aizawa! I’m fine! You didn’t umm- let me drown or whatever. I'm all good! You did keep your promise! So, p-please stand up, Sir. Please.”

He stays bowed for an extra second before he complies to Izuku’s plea’s. He grimaces and reaches forwards to rustle the boy’s hair. “If I had kept my promise then we wouldn’t be here, Problem Child.”

He disagrees. Aizawa was the only reason Izuku didn’t ‘drown’ . He had nothing to be sorry for. They wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Izuku. 

He wipes his tears again, looking back to his favorite spot on the table. His eyes catch on bent and broken metal and he unsuccessfully wracks his brain for an explanation. When he doesn’t find one he asks curiously, “What happened to the table?”

Scarf Man pauses in his tracks as he was returning the chair back to its original spot.

The blonde looks up at the spot Izuku had pointed out, confused, then glares at the raven haired man angrily. 

Said man gives Izuku a disappointed glare and mouths something that looks suspiciously like ‘Problem Child’ .

Before he had a chance to figure out what all that meant the door opens and three people walk in. 

Trenchcoat man, who’s rubbing his eyes and looks– just, so tired; A mouse(?)....(bear?) like-creature with a nasty scar who’s smiling pleasantly; and to his surprise, Mitsuki Bakugou. 

“Auntie?” he questions, lowering his wrapped hands beneath the table, out of sight from her keen eyes.  

She places a hand on her heart and her face contorts into an angry and sad expression. She stares at him for a second more, taking a breath to compose herself. “Oh kid, you had us so worried for a minute there.”

He grimaces, going red. “Sorry.”

“And look at you. Did you sleep last night? God Izuku, you’re a magnet for trouble. You’re poor mother. I told Katsuki to take care of you, keep you out of trouble, and look where you end up. You two brats will be the death of me, I swear.”

He tries not to smile at the oddly familiar speech he used to hear when they were kids, “Sorry, Auntie. I didn’t mean to.”

She sighs, smiling fondly. “I know.”

“Um, where’s Mom?” he asks. He’s glad to see her after so long but if he was expecting anyone, it was his mother. 

She frowns, looking back at the door. “She’s out front with Katsuki. I told her you wouldn’t want to see her crying and worked up as she is. But honestly, I didn’t want her to have to see you , Izuku. Like this.”

Her eyes gloss over slightly, “I didn’t know if you were gonna be in handcuffs. Katsuki said they arrested you in front of everyone and- and you look horrible, Kid. She’s already so worried, I didn’t want her to have to see you looking scared and exhausted like you do. Your mother will just get more upset, not being able to do anything. I know it's not fair to you, but I’m just so worried about her. I told her I’d tell her how you were.”

She looks guilty and as worried as she was when Katsuki and him had gotten lost in the woods when they were four. He understands, really. His mother was probably worse off than himself. He was grateful for Mrs. Bakugou’s presence, that his mother had someone taking care of her. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad she didn’t have to see me like this,” He says, wiping his eyes. “Would you tell her I’m all right, please. That everything is okay.”

She smiles, then gives him a stern look, “You need to be more careful. You’re such a sweet boy, Izuku. You shouldn’t worry us this much.”

“I know.” He answers. 

She looks down, addressing the mouse thing, “Thank you.”

“Of course! We want to make sure you’re all comfortable as we move forward.”

“I can take you back out front, ma’am” Trenchcoat man says.

She glares at him, “I don’t need a damn escort! You think I’m gonna get lost walking down the hall?!”

Aizawa snorts, pretending to cough when trenchcoat man glares his way. 

“Sorry, of course not, go ahead.”

“Take care of Izuku and hurry up. It’s getting late.” She says, addressing the mouse. 

“We will.”

She smiles at Izuku as she goes, leaving him with the three men and mouse.

He’s just glad Nighteye and the officers were gone, but he wished they would just let him sleep. He was still too tired for another interrogation.

“Midoriya Izuku?” the mouse-things asks, as he climbs in the chair next to Mic. Trenchcoat man and Aizawa stand closely behind both of them. 

“Yes.” he answers, quietly. 

“I’ve heard much about you, indeed. What a delight to finally meet you in person!”

“You just learned about him two hours ago.” 

The mouse continues talking over Aizawa's comment, “We should get the technicalities out of the way first. Midoriya, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. We would like you to answer a few questions for him before we proceed. Detective, if you will.”

Tsukauchi nods, looking to the boy. “Midoriya, did you sell either of your notebooks to Shimoda Nobuyuki or Uemura Yasu, or anyone else?”

He blinks tiredly, back to this . He might as well get it over with. It didn’t matter what was true. He was their villain here. 

At least some justice would be served. No matter his intentions, he still hurt people, killed someone. If it weren’t for him and his stupid analysis books, many heroes would have gone on to save more people. 

“Midoriya, it seems you haven’t been informed of some rather important details. The detective here has a very helpful quirk that's going to allow us to move this process ahead much quicker than we otherwise would have.”

The detective nods, “Right. My quirk is called Lie detector. I am able to know whether or not a statement is true or a lie by hearing it spoken aloud.”

Izuku absorbs that for a little longer than he might’ve if he wasn’t exhausted. Then he gives the group what he imagines is a very distasteful look. 

What?! Are you kidding me! They had this the whole time!

Nighteye’s words from earlier ring in his foggy mind. ‘We have ways to know if your lying’

Well, no shit! Why was my honesty ever in question? How did this even become a misunderstanding with a quirk like that?... unless there was a way the quirk was tricked, or maybe it's not very powerful and easily evaded… unless it’s .... wait... how would it even work?

Does he have to be the one asking the question? Does it only work on statements? What happens with half truths? What if he’s told something that a person thinks is true but isn’t? Is it omniscient or only works based off one's belief? Or is it based on someone’s heart rate, like a normal polygraph? If that's true can the quirk be evaded–

“Umm, Midoriya?”

Right… he had to answer Trenchcoat Man. Wait but I just spaced for a minute. If I answer him now will that still work? He just said something else, does that cancel out the first question? Does he even have to be the one asking the question? How do I answer? Do I have to say a full statement or do I just need to say ‘no’?  If I say ‘yes’ to him asking my name will he think I meant yes to the first question? Then they’ll just throw me in prison, or tartarus for being a murder and then Kacchan and Tsubasa would’ve been right about me being a villain and a Deku and then mom will be all alone and–

“Problem Child?”

He panics, “Yes? No! I mean- no! I didn’t- I can- I sold- I didn’t sell! I don’t even.. I, no. no?”

Everyone in the room stares at him with varying looks of mild concern to horror. He flushes and holds his wrists out, “please just arrest me.”

Aizawa snorts, “You were already arrested, kid.”

Izuku whines and the blonde turns around in his seat while the detective elbows Aizawa harshly in the ribs. 

Mic, angry again, yells, “What is wrong with you! Do you have a sensitive bone in your body?”

Aizawa raises his hands in surrender, “He was arrested, Zashi.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Will you be helpful, please.” The detective harshly whispers. 

Aizawa stares, boredly, eyes half lidded. “Kid, answer him.”

Izuku swallows and takes a jagged breath, “No, Sir. I didn’t sell my notebook to anyone.” He looks up after a second, tacking on, “Either of them! I didn’t sell either of them. Or anything else for that matter! I promise.”

The detective nods, “Thank you, Midoriya.” Then nods to the mouse. 

“Wonderful! Thank you, Detective. My, this makes things much easier.”

Izuku found himself looking to Scarf man often, hoping for an explanation. He just stared back, offering nothing but strange, silent comfort. When he looks back at the mouse, he finds him studying both him and Aizawa carefully, yet openly. 

Until he quite suddenly throws his hands up, making him flinch slightly, “Midoriya! You are no longer under arrest by the Musutafu police department!”

He blinks at the creature. 

What? That's it? One question and I’m free?

“I-I'm not?”

“No you are not. It seems there has been a grave mistake on our part. We were misled. You have our most sincere apologies.”

He rubs at his bandaged wrists. “It’s fine,” he mumbles out, quietly. 

“No. It’s not.” The mouse says sternly.

He shrugs. Sure, he was pissed, but there wasn’t much to be done now. And he was just so tired. He wanted to go home, sleep for a few days, then get back to his shitty life. 

“Um… Sir?”

“Nezu.”

“Nezu. Am I able to– c-can I go home now? Please?”

Nezu black eyes blink at him curiously before he answers with a cheery, “No.”

The boy wilts. 

Of course not. 

When would this end? He just wanted it to end. Why couldn’t they leave him to his own guilt if he was truly no longer under arrest.

“Your notebooks are quite impressive.” Nezu says.

Izuku tries to suppress a yawn, drawing a blank at the random compliment. He responds with a nod and a confused, whispered, “Thanks.”

“Very detailed analysis. Almost professional. After reading both volumes, I would say you are a very talented and devoted fanatic.”

That's nice of him. Most would just call it creepy. Or stupid, or a waste of time. For Izuku, it was just fun. Well, it used to be anyways. He’s positive he will be burning all of them when he gets home and never analyzing anything ever again. 

“My other takeaway is that they are dangerous .”

Well, he knew that now. But if he had known what would come of it, or what possibly could have come of it, then he never would have written anything.

“If I had known-”

“But you didn’t know. None of us did, for that matter. Now we do, and we can proceed with that knowledge so no one else will be hurt.”

Yeah, proceed by never using his notebooks ever again. 

“With that, because your analyses were in the hands of a formidable yakuza group we will not be sending you home. For your safety.”

“What?!” 

That’s not fair! He should be allowed to go home if he wasn’t arrested. 

“Kid, it's a safety precaution. We don’t know who knows what about you.”

“These villains were close enough to you that they were able to steal a notebook from your bag. They have your name and your description.” The detective says. 

“But the Yakuza group was taken down!”

“Yes, they were.” Nezu says, folding his paws on the table. “But they may have been in contact with other groups or brokers. A child with the ability to write such detailed and dangerous information on heroes would be very interesting to certain parties in the underground. Do you understand that, Midoriya?”

A part of him did. The other part didn’t understand how they didn't understand. Izuku was quirkless, weak . He wasn’t an asset to anyone. If these ‘parties’ knew what he was they would’ve burned the books themselves knowing that a defect had written them. 

His eyes water over again and he droops forwards, pouting, “I just want to go home. Please.”

The mouse hums, “You can not.”

“ Nezu .” Aizawa warns.

The blonde scoffs, lowly muttering,“Now you wanna grow a heart.” 

“Shut it”

“ You shut it”

“Guys…”

Izuku lets himself sag on the table, burying his head in his arms tiredly. 

Silence falls over the room for a few blissful moments. That, of course, doesn't last.

“Problem child?”

He buries his head further, wanting so badly to escape. “ Please .”

“Look at me, Midoriya.” Scarf Man says, somehow silently appearing beside him.

He peeks at the man who’s crouching at his side. He knows it's immature and hopeless, but he looked so understanding and caring, and Izuku’s judgment for age appropriate behavior was nonexistent with his current state of exhaustion. 

But he knows that he’s being childish when he begs Aizawa. “P-please. You said if I answered the detective I would be done, right? I did it, Sir. So please, please.”

He at least has enough consciousness to be mildly embarrassed, but he doesn’t stop. Silent tears fall and he looks at the man with what he’s sure is a pitiful look, repeating again, “ please .”

Aizawa stares at him silently for a long minute and a short flash of surprise flits across his expression. Izuku thinks he’d asked in vain when Aizawa turns back to his uncaring glare but he stands and says, “Okay, we’re done.”

Izuku, surprised, sits up hopefully. 

“Eraser.” Detective Tsukauchi complains. 

“He’s done for today. C’mon, Midoriya let’s go.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice, energy he didn’t have suddenly appearing as he jumps up. The chair almost falls backwards and he stumbles, his stiff muscles protesting at the quick movement after being sat for so long. 

Aizawa’s hands jerk out subtly, prepared to catch him if he couldn’t regain his balance on his own. Luckily, he manages, grimacing at the pain that shoots through his back. 

“Unfortunately, we still have a couple more topics that we must go over before Midoriya can take his leave.” Nezu says, never dropping that cheery state that’s beginning to freak him out. 

“Midoriya, if you would.” The rodent-mouse thing gestures back to the chair that he’d almost pushed over in his rush to get out of it.

He shakes his head aggressively, crowding much too close to Aizawa, cowering behind his larger silhouette. 

“Eraser, we’re almost done.” The detective pleads, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

He was so close to leaving. His subconscious mind seeming to decide that sticking close to Aizawa would be his best chance at freedom; when the man shifted his weight Izuku followed suit, hiding behind him completely. Maybe his foggy mind thought if the others couldn’t see him they’d let him go. 

“We really are almost done, Midoriya. I assure you, I want you to be able to leave as soon as possible but there are things that we must discuss beforehand. Like your future living situation. Unfortunately this is non-negotiable.” and he sounds so kind and honest when he says that. The emotion sounded forced but the conviction seemed real. Still he internally crumbles, too close to leaving now to just give up. 

“Sit, Midoriya.”

Then he knows he’s not in the right headspace because he presses his forehead into Aizawa's back, crying. Desperate for any form of comfort, he didn’t have any will to even feel ashamed. 

His tears stain the black jumpsuit but the man didn’t seem to mind as he tells Nezu, “I said he’s done.”

Mic stands, waving his hands placatingly, attempting to mediate the now tense situation. “Hey, Maybe Sho’s right. The listener can be caught up on all of that -ish tomorrow, ya dig.”

He was expecting more fighting so he’s surprised when Nezu begins to laugh. 

He considers peeking around the man but instead tucks his head, pushing into Aizawa more. He’s surprised that he didn't seem to stumble at the sudden action, standing tall and stable, unmoving and uncaring. 

“Well this is a development I would not have bet on. You seem to constantly surprise me, Eraserhead!” He exclaims, giddy. “Yes, yes, when Midoriya heads to U.A. later this week, I thought I would shuffle him around through the staff until I found a good fit. Lucky me! I no longer have to go through the trouble!

…

What? 

Eraserhead? U.A.? 

Aizawa must have felt him go rigid cause he looks down at him over his shoulder. 

And Izuku actually does lean around the man, confused. He peeks around him and Nezu still sits, smiling, unchanged. 

He finds the courage to talk, if only to make sure his tired brain wasn’t making him hear things. 

“U.A.?”  He asks. He makes quick glances at Aizawa , Eraserhead(?), unsure. 

This man was Eraserhead? Eraserhead the underground hero? Eraserhead the pro -hero? Eraserhead, who he’s been calling scarf man…  Eraserhead, who he had cried into multiple times at this point….

The rat's grin widens and he again gestures for Izuku to sit. 

He grimaces at the chair, but ultimately sits. His curiosity out weighing his desire to run. 

And Aizawa takes his place behind Izuku, crossing his arms and telling Nezu, “Make it quick.”

Nezu ignores him, focusing on the boy, “You are not going home. We’ve made arrangements with your mother to have you stay at U.A. until we know that you are safe to return home. I assure you, it’s temporary but necessary. “

U.A.? The school he had always dreamed of attending? They were gonna send him there? Sure, he wouldn’t really be attending as a student, but even being there would be awesome. But living there? And his mom was okay with it? And how long was ‘temporary’? Would he be returning to school? Was his mom coming with him? 

Questions plagued his mind too quickly for him to process them but the most important one, “Why U.A.?”

“Easy access.” Aizawa huffs. 

That didn’t explain anything… 

“Where are my manners!?” Nezu exclaims. “I didn’t introduce myself properly! I'm the one that could be a mous…”

“I said, make it quick.”

“...e or a dog or a bear, but the most important thing is, I’m the principal!”

Izuku’s unimpressed, tired look didn't deter Nezu as he chitters, “I’m the principal of the prestigious U.A. high school. So naturally, U.A. is the easiest solution for our quandary.”

He blinks slowly, nodding. If he wasn’t still dead on his feet he’s sure he’d be ecstatic to be meeting the principal of U.A. and being told he would be living there for the foreseeable future. But for now all he could say was, “Oh.”

He would be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t peaked, sure. But right now? Right now he wanted to go home . He wanted a hug from his mom. He wanted to be in his familiar room with his familiar shower and familiar bed. He wanted things to be the same as they were before all this happened. He wished this had never happened. 

“You, of course, will be prohibited from leaving campus until we are certain you are out of danger. We will continue your schooling through our campus until your release.”

So… he was sort of like a prisoner of U.A.. As dramatic as that sounded, it felt true as he was sitting in an interrogation room. At least it's better than a real prison. 

“And I would also like to add to that course work. We would like to give you the opportunity to practice your analysis in a safe environment and add to your skills.”

“No.” he said harshly. 

Tense silence fills the room and Izuku chews on his lip. He didn’t mean to spit that out so crudely but on this he was certain. 

“No?” Nezu questions, surprised. 

“No, I- I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m never going to analyze another hero ever again.” He had began confident but was slowly returning to the muttering and sniffling mess that he was. “I’m done with that. Never… never again.”

Nezu hums, “Why is that?”

He sniffles fighting against his tears. “I- I don't want to hurt anyone else.”  For what? There wasn't any point to it. All this happened just because he was bored? Because he thought he had a talent for something? What crap. 

“Ahhhh, I didn’t know you had hurt anyone, Midoriya. May I inquire who you have injured and what that has to do with your analysis?”

He gives him a confused look. “Torpedo… and X-hasut, and Miss Blossom, Sandman, Blade, Mirroage, Medusa–”

“Were all hurt on duty as active heroes. I did not see your name in any of the reports or your appearance at any of their final battles before their respective retirements.”

He sneered at the mouse. Why was he playing dumb? They had just gone over this. Nighteye had already laid it out clearly. Now what? They’re trying to tell him they had it wrong? That Izuku wasn't a villain? Wasn’t a murderer?

“I wrote the analysis. The analysis that was used to hurt them. Some of them will never be heroes again! Some of them won’t live normal lives again! Some of them– T-torpedo is- is-”

A large, warm hand falls on his shoulder and squeezes tightly. 

Breathe. 

He shuts his eyes and focuses on his lungs as he takes an exaggerated breath. 

He wants you to breathe.  

Just breathe.

“So very intriguing.” Nezu comments as Izuku works on calming down. 

He looks at the mouse with a questioning stare but he just shakes his head, his ears twitching slightly. 

“You are not responsible for Torpedo’s death. I should give Nighteye a blackeye for even suggesting something so absurd.”

He looked back at scarfman, horrified. “Don’t say that! That's horrible!”

“Eraser, please stop suggesting violence as a solution in front of a minor… or in general.”

“I’m with you, hun. Let’s jump 'em.”

Aizawa and Mic smile at each other sinisterly while the Detective drags his hand down his face tiredly. And Nezu…. seems to never stop smiling.

“Yes, Aizawa is right,” the mouse suggests, flattening an imperfection on his sleeve. 

“Principal Nezu?!”

“You are not responsible for Torpedo’s death. Or X-hausts’ hospitalization, Miss Blossom’s early retirement, Blade’s injuries, or any other misfortune Musutafu’s local heroes have undergone.”

He grits his teeth, “But Nighteye-”

“Was looking very desperately for answers. Sometimes when we are scared or worried for others, we act in ways we wouldn’t otherwise. Mistakes were made and statements were said that were inaccurate. Accusations were made without merit. You, Izuku Midoriya, did not hurt anyone. For us to suggest otherwise was a mistake we would like to rectify.”

Izuku then proves Kacchan and Officer Koono rights as his lip quivers and he begins to cry in earnest. His shoulders shake as he cries his eyes out like a baby. While he sobs, Aizawa's grip holds firm, keeping him grounded. 

“B-but even if I didn’t mean t-to. If I had n-never written those ana- analyses. Th-then-”

“We can not ponder on what-ifs or hypotheticals. As some would say, that's quite irrational.” Nezu says. “The only thing that is certain is that the problems you highlighted in these notebooks may have been noticed and exploited by anyone. You are not the only one who could have made those observations or conclusions. Most importantly, you never gave that information out. Yes, you never intended to hurt anyone, but there is also no guarantee that those individuals wouldn’t have been hurt regardless. With or without your analyses, their weaknesses are still weaknesses.”

Nezu leans down and brings up volume nine and ten of his notebooks. “These books are filled with very skilled analyses. It is very unfortunate that they ended up out of your hands and in those of dangerous individuals. And as you have mentioned earlier, those parties are no longer a danger to anyone and can not use you or your skills to harm anyone.”

Aizawa’s hand moves from his shoulder to shove his head harshly. Izuku loses his balance and lolls forwards at the unexpected movement and looks back at him, annoyed. “What?”

The man rolls his eyes, nodding towards his hands. “Leave your bandages alone, Problem Child. Stop itching at them or you’ll make your injuries worse.”

“Oh,” he says quietly, moving his hands away from each other carefully. He hadn’t even realized he was messing with them. 

Nezu began laughing again and both the boy and the underground hero give him looks of confusion and annoyance. 

Instead of answering their questioning looks, the mouse leans forwards, his laughter dying out, to hand him his notebooks.  

“These analyses were used against your wishes to hurt others. What you have failed to realize is that they can be used to help others.” 

He grimaces at that. They weren’t that good. They’re just some ramblings of his put to paper. Who could that really help?

“Your skills are unmatched for your age. And of course, skills like this only grow and prosper with time. I would like to nurture that growth and help you use it for good. For right now, U.A. is a temporary home to you. I would like you to consider it being more than that while you are there.”

He looked up from the book he was flipping through absentmindedly, “You- you want me to go to U.A.? As a student?”

“Yes, I would. But ultimately that is up to you. I believe you would prosper under our curriculum and my tutelage.”

“Your what?” Aizawa questions loudly. 

Nezu pays him no mind, continuing to talk over him like before. “You’ll have to study hard and get in like any other student but I do believe you will excel if you decide to. That’s neither here nor there at the moment though, I just want you to keep that in mind as we proceed.”

Izuku short circuits as the mouse changes subjects, beginning to tell him about where he will be after their conversation. But at this moment, he didn’t care. 

U.A.. His dream school. All Might’s Alma mater. Where all the greats went. Like Jeanist and Endeavor. Izuku could actually have a chance at attending as a student? Just like them!

Well, not just like them.

He bites his lip. Right… He wouldn’t be just like them. Because he’s quirkless. Useless. Villainous . He could never be like them. Right?

“Then we should have your living situation squared away. We will have some staff move in as well so that you are never on your own while on campus.”

That sounded suffocating. Good thing Izuku’s fast and can give teachers the slip easily. Wait, but if the teachers are pro-heroes then I would have a much harder time-  wait, is Aizawa a teacher too? Will he be one of the staff watching me? What about-

“Kid?”

He blinks back to the conversation. “Y-yes?”

Aizawa sighs, “Is everything Nezu saying going in one ear out the other? Or are you digesting some of it in between your spacing out.”

His shoulders hunch, ashamed. He stops himself from playing with the bandages by laying his palms flat on the table, refusing to allow himself to absentmindedly itch at them. “Some information is getting through, Sir.”

He hums, “You're lucky he likes to hear himself talk.”

“I like to be heard more though.” Nezu interjects kindly. 

“Sorry.” 

The mouse just smiles, continuing. 

He’ll be living in a dorm on the school’s campus and his day will be scheduled out. He’s to do his coursework as usual with Nezu adding a couple of courses a week to help ‘aid’ him in working on his analyses 'safely’. He’ll have afternoons to himself– sort of. He’ll have an escort at all times and he’s not allowed to leave campus, ever . He’s sure any objections would be dismissed for ‘safety reasons ’.

Nezu also mentioned that he was welcome to take advantage of the campus's amenities and training apparatuses while he was there. “That includes the individuals who will be watching over you, who are very knowledgeable and should be able to help you with your persistent persuasion in the face of their initial rejection.”

What does that even mean, though? 

“Would you not encourage bratty stubbornness? It's not a skill I want embedded in young heroes.”

…

Heroes?!

“Whatever do you mean, Shota?”

“You know exactly what I mean, you damned rodent. I’ll expel him without a thought. Stop inciting unfavorable behavior.”

“You cannot expel one that's not enrolled.”

“I’ll manage”

“He’ll manage”

“Did you- umm- do you…” He chokes when everyone in the room looks back to him. He looks away, closing his eyes and finding the courage to ask in a small voice, “Do you think– Can someone like me…”

Shota was done with this damn rat and this idiotic conversation. 

He was done with not keeping his word with Midoriya. He was done. 

And now this?!

“You are welcome and encouraged to use that free time to take advantage of campus's amenities and our extensive training apparatuses. Of course, that includes the individuals who will be watching over you, who are very knowledgeable and should be able to help you with your persistent persuasion in the face of their initial rejection.”

He glares at the rat who seemed to be enjoying this whole situation now. Midoriya looks confused but Shota understood what the stout was getting at.

He had made it clear at this point that Shota would be the one primarily watching over Midoriya. Not that he really objected to that; Midnight would corrupt him, Mic would scare him, and Vlad would annoy him. But suggesting ‘ persistent persuasion’ as a way to get information from him was not something he agreed with. 

If the kid was gonna be a student then he needed to behave the same way he expects all of them to. That meant less problem child behavior, not more.

“Would you not encourage bratty stubbornness? It's not a skill I want embedded in young heroes.”

Midoriya jumps slightly at his statement and he wonders if he had forgotten he was behind him. With the amount of spacing out he’d been doing in the last ten minutes, it wouldn’t surprise him. 

Honestly, he’s surprised the kid’s even stayed awake long enough to listen to Nezu drone on and on. It seemed like he was putting all of his efforts in just trying to keep his eyes open and struggling to actually follow along. 

They were at the point that when Midoriya asked if he could leave Shota couldn’t think of a rational reason to say no. The boy had decided to stay at Nezu’s mention of U.A but when he’d started scratching at his wrists again, Shota almost demanded they leave and finish the conversation tomorrow. 

He didn’t know if he should feel proud or horrified when he sees Midoriya’s effort to stop himself from messing with the bandages. Having to plant your palms to the table to not further irritate an injury that should be painful already was worrisome. 

He should’ve been able to stop himself when it started to hurt. So either he had a high pain tolerance, which was a problem. Or, he was meaning to hurt himself, which was a problem. Either way— the kid was a problem. 

He really wished that he would’ve made them leave when the rat decides to test his patience. 

“Whatever do you mean, Shota?”

This damn— he swears he’s gonna quit one of these days. 

“You know exactly what I mean, you damned rodent. I’ll expel him without a thought. Stop inciting unfavorable behavior.”

And he would. The second the kid goes from problem child to a problem he would dismiss him. The kid had promise sure, but he’s been disappointed by promise too many times to count. That’s why he had so much free time this year.

Nezu smirks and Shota sneers. “You cannot expel one that's not enrolled.”

He was referring to after they cleared Midoriya from the underground threat, but it’s not like it really mattered. 

Nezu was making it clear to Midoriya that he had choice. But Shota knew better. The rat was invested, intrigued. Midoriya had piqued his interest enough for him to offer  his ‘tutelage’ . 

He was sure that if Midoriya wasn’t moved by his persuasion to take U.A. into consideration then his methods would become a tad more aggressive and assertive. He was also sure it wouldn’t come to that. 

“I’ll manage,” he says, crossing his arms. Hizashi bolsters his claim when he insists at the same time as him, “He’ll manage.”

At this point he didn’t actually think he would ‘manage’ in expelling the boy. Midoriya was already falling apart, thanks to them. No need to make it worse. 

The kid didn’t truly seem to understand that he was faultless to the Yakuza’s actions. It’s difficult to blame him when he knows he’d be feeling the same guilt if he were in his shoes. 

But it was irrational. Midoriya would never had even known they were using his books to take down heroes if they had never told him. It truly wasn't his fault. 

“Did you- umm- do you…” 

The kid goes pink when everyone looks at him. He puts his head down and squeezes his eyes shut whispering out, “Do you think– Can someone like me-”

He pauses again, taking a deep breath. “Is it possible to become a hero even if I don't have a quirk?” 

…

The room goes silent and the kid trembles, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. 

He glances towards Hizahi who stares at Midoriya with the same pitying look he’s given him all day. It had annoyed him earlier. The kid didn’t need pity, he was stronger than Hizashi realized. 

Can someone become a hero even without a quirk? 

The realist in him wanted to say no. He should be saying no. Heroism was dangerous, scary. Without a quirk could someone stand a chance? Even the smallest or weakest quirk can give someone an ace, a one up in some situations. 

But none at all? Could he have done it without a quirk? If he were to do it all again, would he be able to do it without one? His quirk wasn’t power based, wasn’t fighting based. He’d had to fight for his spot. 

But even if he couldn’t use his quirk to decimate, like All Might, or incapacitate a large group, like Mic, he had something unique; The ability to level the playing field. 

If he wasn’t able to do that, would he have survived this long?

His quirk didn’t always work in every situation and he had trained and worked hard to fill in those gaps; But what if he only had gaps. No aid. No leveling shit . No power. Just him versus people with power. Could he? Could Midoriya?

No. right? That was the rational response. No . 

But looking at this kid….  Could he still say no?

Even earlier wasn’t he thinking,

 ‘ Would you not encourage bratty stubbornness? It's not a skill I want embedded in young heroes .’.

Young heroes. He’d lumped the kid in that group. He’d consider Midoriya a future student. He hadn’t questioned it. This kid he barely knew. This kid with no quirk. This problem child. 

…

Did he think… ? Was he considering…? 

But there were so many obstacles and reasons why he couldn’t be a hero. It was irrational to think he could even consider telling this kid yes. 

So why did he want to? 

Nezu hums, finally filling the silence. “Well Midoriya, not just anyone can be a hero. Let's start here: why do you want to be a hero?”

The kid flinches, opening his eyes. He seems to malfunction like earlier. 

Shota couldn’t really blame him. That’s a loaded question for someone who was only fourteen. Would he have been able to answer that at fourteen? Could he answer it now? 

Midoriya squints down at the table, concentrating. 

He closes his eyes and whispers, “I- I want to save people.”

…

Well–no shit, kid.

“... Let's start here,” Nezu says kindly, folding his paws on the table. “ Why do you want to be a hero?”

Izuku’s breath catches in his throat. 

Why do I want to be a hero?

Well, he knew that answer. “I- I want to save people.”

But it was more than that. So much more than that. He thinks of that old video that he had always loved. 

‘Who is he?’

The debut of the greatest hero the world has ever known. 

‘The guys already saved a hundred people at least and it hasn't even been ten minutes!’

A hero who pulled hundreds of people out of a disaster and did it all with a fearless smile. A hero who was more than just a symbol of peace for the world but a symbol of hope. A hero who inspires everyone and saves everyone . 

“I want people to see my fearless smile and know that everything will be okay.”

“Because I am here!”

“Just like All Might.” he looks up nervously seeing Nezu sitting patiently, giving Izuku his full attention. “I want to be a hero who saves everyone. Who keeps people safe and who makes them feel safe just by being around. I want to help make sure that people have a reason to smile.”

He thinks of Kacchan. Kacchan who was everything he ever wanted to be. Kacchan who was the unyielding, shining example of a hero in his life. Kacchan who was the central harbering force of Izuku's admiration, anger, and jealousy . Kacchan who always worked hard to be perfect and be the best at everything he did. Kacchan who was amazing. Kacchan who always…

“I want to always win. To be the best. I want to do more than succeed, I want to excel. I never want to fail anyone. I want to work hard and be the strongest so that I can save everyone.”

And he thinks of Auntie, worried and caring over his mother. And his own mother, too worked up to even see him. All because of him . Because he wasn't…

“I want to be strong so nobody ever has to worry about me. And never give someone a reason to think that I wouldn’t be okay or be able to make things okay. Never give someone the reason to cry…” Tears bud in his own eyes, but he continues, “I want to be an amazing hero. I-… I want to save people.”

The room stays silent after that and he feels anxious as he watches them. Aizawa stares down at him and Izuku has given up on trying to read his expressions. Mic was smiling at him and the detective was watching him carefully. Nezu’s black, soulless eyes seem to gleam in the warm light of the interrogation room and he nods slightly. 

“I see!” he exclaims happily. “Well then, to answer your question. With very hard work and the right drive, I sincerely believe anyone could become a hero.”

The kid crumbles again at the rat's words. Shota himself would’ve added a lot to that statement and a large part of him disagreed, but… this kid . 

“When I say hard work, Midoriya, I do mean hard work. If this is truly the path you wish to take then you must work to the nail to achieve it. To be blunt, you have to work harder than most if not all. A quirk is not mandatory but is extremely useful. Your obstacles will be much different than your peers and you’ll receive no outside help. You’ll still have to get in on your own and pass off your own merit.”

He grimaces. That wasn’t what the kid was meaning when he asked that question. He didn’t need logic or hard truth. He needed reassurance and confidence. He needed someone to be his hero. Someone to tell him yes . 

Midoriya nods, wiping his tears. “Thank you, Sir.” He rasps out, smiling in a way that makes Shota’s dead heart melt. Why did he give a shit about this kid? Why did he care so much? What was wrong with him?

He cared about all of his students, of course. He set all of them up for success and taught them how to be upstanding heroes. He really did care but when they disappointed him or showed signs that they could become a danger to themselves or others in the hero field he had harsh solutions. But he did care. 

This felt different. Maybe it was because he helped the kid through three panic attacks and defended him for the better part of a week. But it felt different. He felt less detached. He was able to openly defend and support the kid without cringing. 

He wouldn’t have guessed that would ever happen, let alone with a textbook problem child. Then again, Midoriya was turning out to be less and less textbook than he thought. He was a problem child, but not in the way he had originally thought. 

“You have a lot of work to do in very little time. Frankly, you should have started much before this but as I said before, please do take advantage of every thing U.A. has to offer while you are there.”

Midorya nods, determined. Shota rests his hand on the kid's curls, tilting his head back. 

“This is gonna be hard, kid. You sure you're up for it?”

“Of course.” He says seriously, making a fist. 

He sees Hizashi gush at the kid and rolls his eyes. “Take this seriously. You’re at every logistical disadvantage here, and you’re already behind. You’ll have to train like hell to even be ready for the entrance exams. And don’t forget that you’re not powerless.” He pushes the kids head back down so he’s left staring at the two notebooks. “That brain of yours is something many heroes would kill for. Use everything you have to your advantage, you’re gonna need it.”

He grabs volume ten and begins to flip through it, nodding. “Besides, if you fail then you’ll have another chance at the sports festival.” 

That's what he had-had to do, after he failed the entrance exam. Erasure hadn’t worked on robots so he’s sure Midoriya has about the same odds of passing as he did. 

Hissashi gives him an upset look, “Don’t put it like that, Sho.”

“Like what?”

They stare at each other for a long moment before the other rolls his eyes and focuses on the kid, “You’ll do great, Listener.”

Midoriya didn’t seem to hear him as he begins to flip through the book frantically. He drops it and flips through the other with the same urgency. 

“Listener? You okay?”

He still doesn’t answer, once again spaced out. Shota sighs out tiredly, calling out.

“Kid…Kid.”

“Kid!”

Izuku startles, looking back at the man. “Y-yes?”

He raises an eyebrow, “You okay?”

“No. I mean, yes! Well…”

Well, no. Not really. Because why would they…

“What’s up? You freaked out there for a second.”

He bites his lip. Should he complain about this? They probably have their reasons for doing so, but also… why? 

“It’s nothing, I uh- It's just-” He takes a breath trying not to trip over his own words. “Just some pages are missing.” 

He makes a sad face. It was more than just some missing pages. He probably wouldn’t have even noticed if one of his best analyses he had ever done wasn’t half gone. 

He touches the drawing of the winged hero and traces the rip with his finger. Only the top half of the drawing and the basic, cursory information were there now. Someone had torn the page in half, destroying most of the analysis. 

He had been upset when he saw it at first, thinking it was just an unfortunate accident. Until he flipped through the rest of the book, looking for the All Might analysis he had just done a week ago. And— it wasn't there…

He flipped through the whole thing , looking for where he thought he would find the entry. He saw nothing but the ripped edge of a page that was torn out. Then he looked through the book again and noticed more and more familiar entries gone. 

He had just started this notebook a couple months ago. Since he had thought volume nine was gone forever he had tried to redo as many as he could. They were his best work and most detailed. Because he was redoing old analysis there was hardly any overlap like in volume nine, besides All Might and Kacchan of course. 

This book was arguably the best one he’s ever done. Most of the writing was legible and because he kept it in his bag the whole time he had it unless he was home, it was in the best condition. Until now of course. 

If the police had taken the pages out, they had done it carelessly. I mean, they could have at least taken the whole Hawks analysis. 

The detective and Aizawa give each other concerned looks and the detective clears his throat, “Do you know which pages are missing, Midoriya?”

He grimaces, “Well it’s hard to remember every hero I analyzed. That's the point of the book.”  He grumbles quietly, flipping through it again.

“Try, kid.” Aizawa requests.

“Well… the first page? Of volume ten. The one with my name on it. Um- a couple of the All Might pages— actually most of the All Might pages. Best Jeanist has some pages missing and Edge Shot.”

They all watch the boy carefully as he makes his way through the notebook, their worries growing as he names more heroes. 

“ Half of the Hawks analysis,” He grumbles out bitterly, pouting. “And all of the Endeavor analyses are completely gone. I can’t find the rescue hero, Thirteen? I think? Um- I think that's it though.”

The Detective nods and Nezu holds his chin in thought as the boy turns pages. 

“Oh! And the Cementos and… oh, uh… and the uh- Eraserhead analysis, though that one wasn’t very detailed… just a redo from an earlier entry that was already pretty bare.” He says, embarrassed. 

“But volume nine is intact. Um- volume ten itself is only about half finished since I only started it a couple months ago. And anyways it was just redoing older analysis and updating them, since I thought I had lost number nine.”

They all sit in silence for a couple of minutes. 

Does that mean they didn’t know? What would that mean? Did the yakuza take the pages? Does that mean some of my analysis is still floating around the underground? Does that mean that I… that my notebooks… that they can still hurt someone. 

He flinches when the door opens without a knock, a younger looking officer with long white braids peeking her head through. She nods at them with a sheepish smile, “Hello, good evening everyone.” Then in a harsh, hushed tone she calls for the detective. 

He looks miserable as he walks closer to her. She had probably meant for none of them to hear her but her whisper was loud and desperate. 

She sounds close to tears as she exasperatingly explains, “ Please, Detective. You don’t understand. They’re horrible and they’re making my shift hell . I’ve been here for seven hours and Sansa and the big hero both gave up and now that woman keeps yelling at the front desk and Officer Seki said that I have to be the one to handle it and I tried , Sir, I really, really tried but she is just so mean and her kid is so loud and he keeps calling me names that I don’t understand and the green one has gone through like three tissue boxes and, Sir , he called me Elf Lord– and Ice Cap and Jack Frost and Frosty Locks and Yeti Head! He called me Polar Puff! What the hell does that even mean! Sir, please, please. I am begging you, please .”

Izuku looks at Aizawa questioningly but gets no answers as the man seems to be trying his best not to start laughing. He looked away to Mic who looked surprised and horrified and Nezu who hadn’t even turned in his seat. 

The detective answers her in a much lower voice that he can't make out, rubbing his eyes miserably. 

Her face goes white and she yells out, forgetting to whisper, “Please, don’t make me go back!” She cringes sheepishly looking at the rest of the room, returning to a lower volume, “ Detective, I- ”

“Not to worry, Officer Shirai!” Nezu exclaims suddenly. “We have just finished up and I promised Mrs. Bakugou that I would have Izuku back to them soon. I suggest you take a well deserved break and allow me to handle the rest!”

She stares at Nezu, bewildered, then looks at Detective Tsukauchi who nods. She smiles, relieved and looks back to Nezu, whispering as she departs, “ Thank you so much, Sir. ” Nezu nods back at her. 

Izuku yawns, lowering his head. 

“C’mon, kid.” Aizawa says before he can lay his head down. “Let’s get you out of here so you can rest.” 

He’s embarrassed when he almost cries at those words, sitting up— eager to leave. Nezu and Mic stand and he follows, holding his breath. 

When Aizawa nods for him to walk ahead of him and they head to the door he feels relieved. 

It’s finally over.

Shota yawns as they walk back to the front. 

Why can’t this be over. 

At least the kid finally gets to head home. Well, not home— But he can leave. Get some damn sleep. 

Much needed sleep , he thinks as he sways while they walk. 

When they get to the front Mrs. Bakugou was standing by the window, her arms crossed and glaring. Mrs. Midoriya was… crying and the younger Bakugou was glaring like his mother, sitting next to Mrs. Midoriya, his foot tapping as he stared at the ceiling. 

Midoriya wipes his eyes furiously then smiles, gently calling out, “Mom?”

The woman drops her tissue box and looks up at the boy. She smiles, still crying, and runs to him. “Izuku! My baby! You’re okay! I was so worried!”

He laughs gently, rubbing her arm, “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything’s fine.”

She cries harder, leaning into the small boy, “No, no, no, no, no, no. No, please don't say that, Izuku. Everything is not fine. It’s not fine.”

“I promise.” The boy insists, pulling the woman back, “It’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

Her lip wobbles as she clutches her tissues– but she takes a breath and nods at her son. “Okay, honey. But this can’t happen again, alright? I can’t take this ever again, Izuku.”

Tears glisten in both mother and son's eyes as he nods at her, “Alright, Mom.”

As they embrace, Mrs. Bakugou walks up to the pair smiling. 

Shota sees Nezu makes a quick escape from the corner of his eye but before he can question it Hizahi moves to his side. 

Their hands brush each other as his husband leans towards him, whispering, “That kid’s really something, huh.”

He snorts. “Yeah he’s something .”

“Don't be like that,” Hizashi says, shoving against his shoulder. “You like him.”

He decides not to answer that. The other waits expectantly and when Shota doesn’t respond he rolls his eyes, turning away. 

Always so dramatic. 

He sighs, “Yeah, he’s alright.”

And Hizashi smiles. 

The other teen watches Midoriya from the corner of his eye, only standing when Mrs. Midoriya turns to pick up the tissue box. 

Midoriya was, again, being lectured by the older Bakugou as the boy wanders over to the other. 

“- so if this fancy school doesn’t keep you out of trouble then nothing can. Until then, count on Katsuki. He’s supposed to be watching you, making sure you don’t get into trouble— not pulling you out once you're already in it. 

“Shut it, hag.” He grumbles. 

Midroiya turns, seeming surprised to see the other boy. “Kacchan!”

“You shut it too! Shitty Deku!”

Mrs. Bakugou smacks him, “Don’t you dare talk to Izuku like that, Katsuki! You better apologize!”

“I’m not apologizing to shit! You were just yelling at him too!”

“I am his…”

As the two yell at each other, Midoriya smiles, seemingly familiar with this scene. 

Nezu returns, dragging behind him an annoyed Death Arms. 

“- and be lucky that you weren’t the one they pulled in here!”

“I’m not the one who was writing in those stalker notebooks, creepy ass poems for some two-bit extra to steal!”

“Katsuki? Mitsuki?” Mrs. Midoriya calls, setting her hand on the younger blonde's shoulder. “Let’s save this conversation for the train… or the house. I think it would be more productive with Masaru moderating anyways.”

“No one needs him!”

“I don’t need a moderator!”

“ Please .”

They both bite their tongues and look away, but they stop fighting. 

“Why couldn’t she say that earlier.” Tsukauchi grumbles out, annoyed.

“Well then!” Nezu cheers, walking towards the two mothers and sons. “I am one to keep my word! I do believe I promised we would get the younger Midroya home and resting sooner than later.”

“Yes, you did.” Mrs. Bakugou answers. 

“Right then. This-” He says, gesturing to the hero behind him, “Is local hero, Death Arms!”

“We’ve met.” Mrs. Midoriya says, her sweet voice becoming cold and curt. 

“Wonderful! He will be watching over you tonight, stationed outside of the Bakugou residence until we pick Izuku up in the morning! Although I trust you all to protect yourselves and each other fiercely , this is extra protection that I deem necessary.”

Both women nod and Izuku stares at the local hero. Shota’s sure if the boy had his notebook he would’ve been writing away, or even asked the man to sign it. Hizashi would probably sign his entry. The kid would probably really like that. Maybe get Nemuri to do the same... No, I don’t want her talking to the kid at all.

“Midroya, I will be holding on to these until you get to campus.” The rat says, holding up the very notebooks. “When you arrive I shall return them to you as they are still yours. We’ll make a stop by your home tomorrow so you and your mother can pack your things. I request you bring the other eight volumes.”

He nods in answer, looking too tired to retain any important information. 

“You damn idiot. You’re dead on your feet.”

“Katsuki,” his mother warns, “get along with Izuku.”

“ Tsk. I’m not saying anything that ain’t true. He was sleepwalking this morning and now he’s the walking dead.”

“M’fine, Kacchan.”

“Fine my ass. 

“You're right, Bakugou. Midoriya does need to rest, so please, take care of him tonight. We’ll take over tomorrow.”

Nezu and the boy hold eye contact for a long moment before the boy turns, “Whatever.”

“We’re going to Kacchan’s, right?” Midoriya asks, turning to his mother.

“It’s not a damn sleep over, Shitty Nerd.”

The kid nods back, smiling tiredly, “I know. It’ll be nice to be with Kacchan one more night though, before I have to leave school.”

The blonde grits his teeth, “Shut up! Stop acting like you won’t be back! They're gonna clear you and you’ll be back at Aldera, where you belong.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he yawns. “But still, It’ll be nice.” The other doesn’t answer, turning away and crossing his arms over his chest. 

These two… He tries not to ponder over their fucked up relationship, instead focusing only on his exhausted temporary student. “Send him home, Nezu. Before he passes out— again .”

Midoriya looks back at him, seeming to remember he was still here. 

“You are all free to go! We shall see you all tomorrow, say around nine. Death Arms will escort you home!”

“Thank you, truely.” Mrs. Bakugou says to Nezu, her face softening. 

“Of course.” Nezu says, bowing his head. “There’s no need to take the train tonight. It’s much too late anyways. We have a car out front. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

“C’mon.” Death Arms says, walking to hold open the door. 

Mrs. Bakugou leads her son out, resting her hand on the back of his neck. She holds Mrs. Midroiyas hand with the other, leading her out as well. 

“Izuku?” his mother calls. 

The kid hadn’t moved, staring at Shota. He stared back, waiting, but he didn’t say anything. 

The kid might’ve just been very tired, but they also didn’t explain much to him. He might think this was the last time he would see the underground hero. He was dead wrong, of course. He was going to be this kid's primary guardian for the foreseeable future, but Midoriya didn’t know that. 

“Go home, Problem Child. Rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The boy suddenly takes a large breath in, as if he had been holding his breath before. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but doesn’t. He just nods and turns, albeit very slowly.

“Let’s go, Deku. You can’t be stupid and slow. Pick one.”

In response to her son's comment his mother pushes him towards the other, throwing a quick comment over her shoulder to, “Behave.”

Mrs. Midoriya and Mrs. Bakugou walk out hand in hand talking while their sons look at each other. The blonde nods towards the door, annoyed. He –surprisingly– starts conversation as they walk out, adopting a lower tone than before, “Did you see the four eyed hero was here. You know, the clairvoyant one… All Might’s-”

“All Might’s sidekick! –or former sidekick, Sir Nighteye! You saw him! That's great, Kacchan loves Sir Nighteye!”

The blonde goes red, whether in anger or embarrassment, Shota didn't know. “Shut up! I don’t love anyone! I barely recognized the guy. He hasn’t done shit for years.”

“You didn’t watch the rerun last month, Kacchan?”

“Huh? Of course I did!”

“It was so cool! They showed All Might's Bronze Age costume!”

“That's the best one.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes, “Nu-uh. You’re only saying that because you like the darker colors. You prefer the golden age costume.”

“Watch your mouth! You don't know what I prefer, Deku!”

“Yes I do!”

“You wouldn’t know your hand from your ass if I wasn’t here to tell you which was which.”

“Kacchan is mean.”

“Shut up!”

“Would you two, please , fight about costumes and body parts and whatever — in the car!” Death arms says, raising his voice at the boys who had stopped in the doorway to argue.

“Who the hell do you think you're talking to you shitty extra!”

Midoriya pushes at the other, complaining, “You can’t say that, Kacchan. He’s a hero. Just go to the car.”

“He’s a babysitter for the damn house, Deku. He’s no one.” He says, pushing back against the other boys pushing.

“He’s keeping us safe!”

“I’m keeping us safe!”

“Just go to the car, Kacchan.”

“Eh! Don’t tell me what to do!” He yells. 

They bicker more as the boy drags the other towards the car. Death Arms watches them tiredly. Before he lets the door close, he gives them what Shota had interpreted as a ‘ please, dear god save me’ look. 

“Well, wasn’t that fun!” Nezu cheers. 

“Fun is one way to put it.” Hizashi sighs, leaning against Shota tiredly.

He wraps his arm around him and whispers, “Thank you for coming.”

He adjusts so he’s hugging Shota back as he complains, “It’s not like I had a choice. Nezu sent me directions and a time and the word ‘Shota’ with no other context. Then you wouldn’t answer. It was either do that or sit and stew with anxiety.” 

He huffs a laugh, kissing his forehead as they embraced. 

“Oh, my, my. There much to do by tomorrow isn’t there.”

“Unfortunately,” Tsukauchi says with a yawn. 

“We need to ask if Cementos and Power Loader could aid us in a dorm construction. We’ll call it a trial run! I’ve entertained the idea of a dorm system in the past but never deemed it necessary. We can use this as a test run— now, if we ever need to implement such a system, we’re more than prepared!”

He laughs to himself, pacing, “We need to have some of the staff volunteer to move in for the time being— Shota you don’t have a choice in that matter. Maybe Ectoplasm and Midnight as well.

“No, not Nemuri.”

“Am I not invited? I want to help watch the little Listener.”

“That’s a given I’m afraid, Mic, as I am forcing your partner’s hand.”

“Great!”

“I’m quitting.”

“We’ll also need to talk with Aldera about the boy’s current curriculum and where he stands performance wise. I want to request protection on the Bakugou household until we are sure Midroya, and by correlation his mother, are out of harm's way. Though that should be discreet as I believe the Bakugou’s may take offense to someone like Death Arm's patrolling their home regularly.”

“Good luck getting information out of that dumpster school.”

“Was it that bad? The poor Listener.” 

“You’re gonna have to do that internally, Principal Nezu.”

The rat pauses in his pacing to look up at the detective, “Hm? Oh, yes, yes, I know. When I say ‘we’ I do tend to mean ‘me’ .” 

The man nods and Nezu chitters. “I do believe that Nighteye would like to be involved with Midoriya’s investigation in the underground, so we- I will need to contact him tomorrow as well.”

“No.”

“He’s part of the investigation, Hun.”

“I’m going to knock him on his ass for what happened today.”

“Sho, I was joking earlier… mostly.”

“What you choose to do on your own time is your prerogative, Shota. Just remember to keep personal endeavors far away from U.A’s campus. I have a keen eye and I can’t turn a blind one if it's in my peripheral vision.”

“Noted.”

“No! Nezu!” Mic complains, glaring at the other.

The rat wasn’t paying them any mind anymore as he muttered about procedure and underground connections. 

“Paperwork. I have so much paperwork.” Tsukauchi comaplains, miserably under his breath. 

Shota tries not to smile. It wasn’t that he enjoyed his friends' pain, but a part of him saw it as payback for him being a pain in the ass during most of their cases. 

“I believe Eraserhead has a clearer schedule than most as of late. He should be able to help you, Detective.”

He glared at Nezu, “Stop volunteering me for things.”

“That's okay.” Tsukauchi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Last time I made him help me I just had to redo most of it. They prefer more detail than Eraser tends to give out.”

“You messed up his paperwork!”

He raises his hands in surrender, “He has ridiculous standards. It's irrational . I did it the same way I do my own and the agency never has a problem with it.”

“I can’t believe you.” Hizashi says, pinching his nose. 

He rolls his eyes at the others' dramatics as both Nezu and Tsukauchi mutter to themselves, the latter sitting down and jotting something down in a file. 

Shota internally groans. He doesn’t want to do this. He had spent the last hour trying  to convince himself not to, that it wasn’t his problem. He had unfortunately lost that battle.

He clears his throat lightly and interrupts the rats pacing and muttering,  “Nezu.”

The creature inturn stops his pacing, giving him his full attention. 

He hesitates– reevaluating how bad he actually wanted this. 

Nezu blinks at him and he crosses his arms over his chest, deciding to just swallow his pride and ask. He shrinks behind his capture weapon, avoiding eye contact, “I’m sorry for calling you a rodent.”

He says nothing, continuing to blink at him expectantly and Shota rolls his eyes. “I need a favor.”

“Yes, I know. What can I help you with, Eraserhead?”

He huffs, biting back the malice that wants to fall past his tongue telling him, “I don’t want the kid going back to that middle school. Even if you clear him”

Nezu hums, “Why is that? Is there something I should be looking into?”

He shrugs at that, “If you're bored.” He didn't really care what happened to the school, as long as the kid wasn’t going back. “I just don’t think Midoriya is as much of a problem child as his record suggests. After my visit. I’d rather him not go back.”

The rat holds his chin, thinking, “Are you suggesting that I lie to the Midoriyas’s? That I say nothing if it turns out that he is clear tomorrow?”

They stare at each other for a long moment before he nods decisively. Sure, it was technically wrong — but so was taking the kid from the station and not properly reporting everything that happened. “It’s as I said, I don’t want him going back there. Do whatever you think you need to do to make that happen.”

He nods back, “You do realize that I’ve made you his primary guardian. You have just asked for more work. You’ll now be watching over Midoriya Izuku until the end of his school year, no exceptions.”

“I’m aware.” He answers, flatly. “I can handle one student.”

“He’ll be more than just a normal student. You’re in charge of keeping him safe and happy at all hours of the day as he’ll be living on campus. Even when he’s being watched by other staff, he is still your responsibility. And yes, he may just be one student, but I do believe you have said that he happens to be exceptionally difficult. What do you call him? Problem Child ?”

“I said, It'll be fine.” He snaps. He could handle Midoriya. Sure, the kid needed to be lectured on taking care of his injuries and proper methods of dealing with panic attacks but he could handle him— problem child or not. 

“I accept then, though I’m afraid I must ask a favor in return.”

He gives the rat a worried look. They’ve been on record of having very different definitions of what a ‘favor’ meant.

He just laughs at Shota’s worried gaze, waving a paw, “Nothing absurd, I assure you. It’s in a similar vein to your request as it regards to Izuku Midoriya— and lying to Izuku Midoriya. 

“What is it?”

“I would like to make sure that no one mentions Black Light to Midoriya.”

He blanks, not expecting that. Black Light was a young twilight hero, sidekick to The Sun Hero: Solarflare. She had potential to be great but unfortunately lost her life as part of the Musutafu hits. The same hits that were possible because of Midoriya’s notebooks. 

“The boy doesn’t need to learn of another hero that he inadvertently killed. It would do no one any good.”

He looks up, sighing and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. This whole situation was frustrating and unfortunate. There was no one to put full blame on. Every turn there is coincidence or accident, pieces that weren’t likely to fall in place irrationally fitting together.

“I agree,” he groans.

“Do you?” The rat questions his reaction, earnestly. 

He looks down at the other, “What happened when the kid finds out we lied to him? That we kept something as egregious as this from him?”

He knows what happens. Any sliver of trust that they’ve built will be demolished, thrown out the window. They had to do this, but the fallout would be substantial.

“He will never find out. We will make sure of it.”

Shota levels a bored stare, “The kid has access to the internet, Nezu.”

The rat smiles at him, cheery and confident, “Leave that to me! When it comes to what he hears directly, I’ll have to rely on you as you’ll be around him the most.”

He nods in answer, silently agreeing to lie to the kid. 

“Don’t look so uncomfortable, Shota. I wouldn’t make such a suggestion if it weren’t in every party's best interest, including the boy’s. This is something he truly doesn’t need to know.”

“ I know that. I’m just not sure the kid’s gonna agree.”

The rat bows his head, “I’m sure he wouldn’t. He is quite a peculiar case. But on this I’m certain. He was very tired today, I’m sure he doesn’t realize yet how much this case has really affected him. He left in better spirits than he’s been all day and that will not last. Tomorrow he’ll be well-rested and in a clearer headspace. He’ll only have more and more time to fester on what happened and blame himself. I fear if he finds out about the young hero it might shatter him to a point where we can’t help.”

He’s right, of course. They’ll do their best to make sure that Midoriya will never hear about Black Light’s death. The kid didn’t need that. 

“You’re right about one thing.” Mic says, “That kid’s something.”

“ Yes. He. Is.” Tsukauchi grumbles, still sitting in the uncomfortable station chair working on the same file.

“He’s a problem chi- ow. ”

“I told you to stop calling him that. It’s mean.”

“And I told you, it's not mean, it's accu- dammit Zashi !”

“Please don’t fight in the station.”

The detective was ignored as they grapple with each other. Shota notices the front desk officer glare at them as Tsukauchi buries his head in his hands. 

“Yes, the boy is intriguing—In more ways than one.”

“Do you really think he could be a hero?” The detective asks. 

Him and Mic stop their squabble, Shota grabbing the other's wrist as he tries to get ‘the last hit’.

“I dont know.” Nezu answers, clearly. “He would be the first. His quick analysis could prove to be invaluable and his abilities will only improve. But the ability to analyze isn’t unique, the best heroes have learned it in addition to their power. He would need to add more skills to his arsenal to succeed, or even pass.  It’s ultimately up to him and how hard he works. Hero hopefuls struggle and fail every year, and they have quirks.”

“I think he’ll do great.” Mic insists, pushing Shota away. 

Shota himself holds his tongue. He doesn’t know what to think at this point. The kid has him confused. He would’ve had a straight answer yesterday, but now the waters are muddy. And they shouldn’t be. It was all completely irrational. 

“He has the spirit and heart of a hero. That’s unfortunately not enough to make it. He’ll need lots of guidance and we must make sure he doesn’t lose his spirits. As I said earlier, we should expect a depression in the boy. I’m afraid the events of the day have broken him.”

“So we make him see Hound Dog?”

“Maybe. There are more ways to help than just therapy. Getting him excited and focused on heroics is something we should put our efforts in.”

Shota huffs, “That will just crush him more if he fails.”

“I’m aware. But I also think that he may not be as motivated as he was today. The guilt he may feel might make him think he’s undeserving. It will be our jobs to steer him away from those ideals. We should try and intrigue him with what made him want to be a hero in the first place, while also making it clear that this will be the hardest thing he has ever done.”

“How joyful.”

“Indeed! U.A. is fruitful in its amenities. As his guide, Eraser, you will have the opportunity to steer his interests one way or the other.”

“Like what, showing him the U.S.J.?” Mic says under his breath to Shota. 

“And the staff heroes, fighting grounds, training facilities. Midoriya is a fanatic— these things may help remind him of that fact.”

“You can only lead a horse to water.”

“And we shall see how affected Midoriya is tomorrow. He may be more fine than I’m anticipating! Then these anxieties were for nothing!”

Shota sighs, crossing his arms, “We can hope.”

“There are other avenues we can use to help Midoriya as well. I did tell him to use every available resource.”

“I’m aware.”

“There is much to be learned in hand to hand combat. With your empty classroom I’m sure you have plenty of time to teach the boy a thing or two.”

“What happened to ‘ you’ll receive no outside help ’.” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“That was more for motivating Midoriya to be assertive in his own education.”

“Right.”

“You’ll enjoy it. It’s not often you get a student who doesn’t already have bad habits from initially learning wrong.”

That was true. He might actually enjoy teaching a student like Midoriya. If he proved capable.

“Besides, as a quirkless hero hopeful, Midoriya will be needing to find certain ways to cover for weaknesses. A support item may be useful, if you had any ideas.”

He… hadn’t considered that. He turns away, hiding his smirk from the clever rat and fidgeting with the end of his capture weapon, thinking.

“Nemuri’s going to love him.”

“No.”

“Like I said, if the boy really wants to be a hero it will be the hardest thing he has ever done. And if he does indeed fail we should make it clear the many options he has in front of him. U.A. will still have a home for him, hero or not.”

“He’d do well in support, with that brain.” Tsukauchi mentions, stretching his neck.

“Or in general. You think he’ll actually want to go through with a non-hero course?” Hizashi asks.

“Well I’ll admit, I’m being quite selfish here. The boy has intrigued me with his analyses and I do very much want him to choose U.A. for his future education. I’m confident he will be able to at least get into general, it’s just our job to get him to want that as an option.”

“Confident? With his grades?” 

“Yeah, I’m not sure those grades are very accurate.” Shota says, answering the Detective. If he was onto something, none of the kid’s records were very accurate. They’ll see tomorrow, though.

“I agree.” Nezu says.

“I’ll handle the gen-ed interest. Like I said, it’s likely he fails that irrational entrance exam. General will give him the opportunity to come back during the sports festival.”

“Or support.”

“I like the entrance exam.” Mic mumbles. 

“I believe Mirio will be helpful in keeping the boy’s spirits up as well. I think it would be wise to have the boy take on a mentor role.”

“I’m sure he’ll be interested. He’s been worried about the kid all day.” Shota answers. 

“That’s good. I think Midoriya will do quite well. I believe there's someone I would like to introduce him to as well.” Nezu says, pointedly looking at Tsukauchi.

The other stares back, and they hold quiet eye contact for a long moment before the Detective nods. 

The hell?

“What’s that about?”

“Nothing, Shota.” The rat dismisses. 

“ Nothing? ”

“It is nothing.” Tsukauchi says standing and walking up to the suspicious raven haired man, “Are you going to stay and help with the paperwork or not?”

“You said you didn’t want me to help.” He accuses as the other rolls his eyes. “Seriously, silent conversations with the rat?” He questions again, not in the mood to drop it. 

Tsukauchi just shakes his head and Nezu claps his paws, “It’s no matter. We have other worries to attend to!”

“Yeah, like Sho being a dad.”

“Shut it.”

“ You , shut it.”

“I was referring to the Hero’s Public Safety Commission. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you much, Detective. The Commission and I don’t particularly agree on much. It’s one of the only things I don’t have much sway in.”

He nods, “That’s fine, Principal Nezu. I’m grateful for what you’ve been able to help us with. This would’ve been a nightmare without you.”

“It’s still a nightmare.”

“He means it’s not as bad as it could have been.” 

“I know that , Zash. There’s still things we haven’t even begun to worry about yet.”

“Like moving the cats?”

“Like the missing entries.”

“Indeed, that is troublesome.” Nezu says, humming.

“Yeah. troublesome. All the pages taken were either analyses for heroes in the top ten or U.A. 's own staff.”

“You think they’re in danger, the heroes?” Tsukauchi questions.

“No.” Nezu says, surely. “Nothing Midoriya would’ve pointed out would be detrimental to such capable heroes. The only reason they did any harm in the first place is because it was targeting heroes who weren’t able to adapt when their weaknesses were exploited.

Proven by Endeavour not being affected in the raid. None of those heroes will be unable to overcome any weakness the boy shone a light on, as they are most likely well aware of those shortcomings. The issue lies more in who would have enough knowledge about the U.A. staff to want to target its members. Besides Cementos, none of those heroes are known teachers of the school.”

“So, we’re worried about someone in the underground having an agenda against the school.”

“Worried– is a strong word. More interested . Interested enough to update a security system or two. Interested enough to wonder who’s interested in taking out bigger players in the game. Until moves are made, though, I see no reason to lose sleep over it.”

“Right.” The detective answers. 

“Speaking of sleep—my, my, look at the time. We should be calling it a night, I believe. Eraserhead, Present Mic, we’ll be leaving to pick up Midoriya at eight. I ask you don’t be late.”

“Course.”

“We’ll be there.” Hizashi says with a thumbs up. 

“And I’ll be here, doing paperwork.”

“I’ll be in contact, Detective.” Nezu answers. The other nods bending down to shake the stouts hand and thank him again. 

“C’mon. We have to pack.”

“Sleep, Zashi. We have to sleep.”

The blonde grabs his hand, leading him back to the interrogation room to grab their stuff, “We can sleep once all of the responsibilities are done. Then you can actually enjoy it, without the anxiety of tasks piling up.”

He raises an eyebrow at his husband, “I don’t get that anxiety. It’s irrational. My way, we get the responsibilities done and we’re fully rested.”

“ Your way also has the possibility of sleeping in and not having time to get anything done.”

He shrugs. “It’ll get done eventually.”

“We’re packing.”

He huffs, tiredly. Hizashi offers him the jacket which he takes along with the bag and they make their way out of the station. 

He thinks of Izuku Midoriya and the perpetual headache the boy is sure to cause him as they walk. 

Hizashi leans on him tiredly, complaining about driving under his breath. He wraps an arm around the other and smiles. 

They head home, the both of them worrying about the move and the rest of the year, watching over their newly acquired problem child.

The End…….

…

…

2:00 — The Same Night

“Calling it a night, Detective?”

He jolts up, blinking rapidly. 

I fell asleep?! 

He rubs at his eyes, trying to get them to focus on anything .

“I think you should circle back tomorrow… or, well– later today.” Sansa suggests. 

No, he needs to finish this. Smudging documents shouldn’t be something he puts off. And the sooner he was done with it the sooner he could put it behind him. Work on his other cases.

Then again, smudging documents shouldn’t be done when you're half coherent. 

He sighs heavily, nodding, “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Let’s go, I’ll walk you out.”

The other waits as he packs his things and logs off for the night. They head out of the station together, Noamasa listening to his friends’ complaints on a smaller case as they walk. 

He holds himself off from offering his aid. It wouldn’t take much of his time, but he didn’t have any time to give at this point. Mostly because he continues to volunteer himself for tasks he's not needed for. Sansa was a capable cop, he didn’t need Noamasa’s help.

He tries to offer advice instead, phrasing it in a question so the other could find the solutions on his own. 

He almost jumps out of his skin when a loud voice from above interrupts them. 

“Detective!” 

An uncomfortable chill rises as he recognises the horribly familiar voice.

“Oh dear god, no.”

“Well, as I was saying, you have a good night, Detective. See you tomorrow.” Sansa calls, traitorously speeding away. 

Why? Why me? Who did I piss off? What did I do to deserve this crap?

“What’s flyin’, my brootish, dreamy investigator?”

“Why me?” He complains aloud, holding his head in his hands. 

“Aw c’mon! Don’t pretend you’re not excited to see me!” The number three hero laughs, winking down at him.

The young hero’s wings beat methodically as he hovers a few feet above Naomasa.

He huffs, allowing heavy annoyance to saturate his tone, “I’m not pretending. What are you doing here, Hawks?”

“I came to see my favorite Detective!”

Naomasa begins to walk away, much too tired to deal with this tonight. His day’s been long enough. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. Or do. You know I love the chase.” The hero says, flying closer to him. 

His hands twitch for the cuffs on his belt. If he could, he would’ve arrested the hero the last time he had come to harass him. Unfortunately even with his connections and reputation, he wouldn’t get away with arresting the number three hero. Still, he makes his empty threats, “Hawks, I swear I will–”

The blonde beams at him, “Please! Don’t tempt me, Detective! You see, I’m all business and no pleasure today.”

“Hawks!” He warns, annoyed and beginning to feel flustered. 

“What? Would I lie to you?”

He just glares at the other who smiles again. 

“Fine, fine. Like I said, business. You know, ye ol’ commission and what not.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. shitshitshitshitshit

“I’m playing errand-bird today.” The hero says, pulling out a phone. “Mrs. Hamasaki said you hung up on her. That’s not very nice, Tsuki.” he tsk’d .

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with the hero, “Yeah, well it’s been really hectic.” 

Hawks could probably already infer that fact, watching Naomasa walk out of the station after two in the morning. 

“I can tell,” he says, pocketing the phone. “Meeting a beautiful bird at an hour like this. Sigh . What would Officer Sansa think of our scandal?”

“Don’t do that,” he says, voice souring. 

“You’re right, Detective! We should keep it to ourselves. Affairs are much more passionate when they’re illicit.”

“All affairs are illicit.” He answers automatically, not realizing he was playing along and allowing himself to be teased.

“You’re telling me.” Hawks whispers, flying closer.

His face goes hot and he tries to push the other away, “What- wait, just– would you stop!”

“But we just started.”

“ Hawks.” He warns, in a very ‘I’m fucking done with your shit’ tone.

“Just playin’, just playin’,” he says, chuckling, “ I told you , I’m here on business. Don't get your fedora in a ruffle. Hey, where's your fedora?”

“ What – do you want, Hawks?”

The other flies closer, matching the distance everytime Naomasa tries to step back. “Well, I just need infor–” He abruptly stops flying, silently dropping to the floor. He walks up to the other, completely invading his space.

“Hey! Hawks!” He complains, blushing embarrassingly when the hero tilts his face up to catch the warm light of the street lamp. 

“What happened to your face! Who did this to you?” he says, his tone easily switching from teasing and joking to dark and serious in half a second.

He pushes the younger man off of him and takes several steps back, huffing, “Would you stop! I’m fine. Quit it.”

“What happened?” He asks with a scowl.

Naomasa scowls as well, “I said to quit it! It’s an occupational hazard, it comes with the job.”

The other crosses his arms, “Well, don’t yell at me for being worried about a friend.”

“I’m mad because you don’t treat me like we’re friends.” He says, exasperated. 

The unwanted flirting seemed to get worse every time he had to meet with the young hero, which thankfully wasn’t too often. But at this point, it was just getting out of hand.

“What do you mean?” the other asks innocently. “I treat everyone like this.”

Lie.

“ Hawks .” He deadpans, annoyed. 

“ Fine , I treat you a little better than most. But if you ask any of them, promise they’ll tell you I annoy them all the same.”

Truth.

Naomasa groans loudly, rubbing his eyes. He should be excited to even be working with a hero as impressive as Hawks not dreading it. 

A large part of him wanted to convince himself that the flirting was just a joke, a sick way to pass time for a bored hero. But, he was starting to think the younger man might actually like him. It was as annoying as it was concerning.

He switches again, smiling playfully, “You know, I’d tell you to get some sleep, but those eyebags are mighty attractive.”

“I will arrest you for harassment.”

“ What ?” he draws out, throwing his hands up in surrender and beginning to pace, boredly. “I’m sorry, alright? Don’t you worry, Detective. It’s just a crush, I’ll get over you.”

“I’m serious, Hawks.”

“C’mon, it’s not my fault that you’re my type.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he mutters, walking away.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re distracting me, Detective.” The hero says, his wings flapping to catch up with him. 

“ I’m distracting you?! ”

“Jeez, I’m supposed to be getting information. You’re making me feel unprofessional, talking about our types and such.”

“ I’m making you feel unprofessional?! ”

“Hush. Listen. So, these Musutafu hits have been a real issue for the Safety Commission. They were very excited to hear you made an arrest. Captain Yasuda unfortunately didn’t give much details, just the name Medori. Which didn't get them anywhere.”

Wonderful. 

“Then, of course you hung up on Mrs. Hamasaki— Which I must say was not a very good look. ” He whispers. 

“I was gonna call her back tomorrow, at a more reasonable hour.”

Hawks shrugs, “Well she sent me so you don’t have to.”

Naomasa wondered how involved Hawks was with the HPSC. He had mentioned it a couple of times during their first few meetings but as of late it seemed he was doing them more and more favors. 

He wasn’t aware of many heroes working closely with the Commission but he also wasn’t very knowledgeable on how that world worked. It might be more common than he thought. 

“So, there was some looking into this morning's arrest and they saw something about a middle school and some kid. I think it was— Izuku Midoriya.”

Shit.  

“Fourteen is a little young to be trying to kill the city's heroes, huh?”

He clears his throat, “Well, he wasn’t at fault for those, the small gang that we apprehended earlier this week were. Led by Ayame Yukawa and Saburo Osada.”

“Oh?” The hero asks, seemingly distracted by a blinking streetlight, “Why arrest the boy then?”

He swallows, watching the same light as they walk, “It was a misunderstanding. We thought he was involved.”

“He wasn’t?” The other asks, his wings puffing out. 

Although Naomasa can lie, he tried not to. It was easier to just say the truth, especially when the truth almost always came out in the end. He sighs, “It’s… complicated.”

“I see.” The hero says, turning to Naomasa, “Well, I won’t lie… cause I can’t.”

“ Hawks– ”

The other rolls his eyes, continuing, “The Commission is taking over the Musutafu case. They decided the hero hits were getting out of hand and decided to step in.”

They choose to do something now? When the case is all but closed?

He nods, grimacing, “Allright, well, I can be in contact with Mrs. Hamasaki tomorrow. Send over everything. Unless you want to do it tonight?”

“I was sent for information,” he says, pulling his phone out again. “I don’t make any decisions here. Again, just a messenger pigeon. Let me see what they wanna do.” 

Naomasa nods. At least most of the paperwork was done. The only thing that Midoriya is listed as is a person of interest who was released. He avoided going into detail—not mentioning the analysis books at all. Instead, choosing to pivot to the yakuza group. After all, they were the one’s at fault.

“So, complicated? How complicated?”

“Huh?” he asks, looking back to the blonde. 

“The kid? You said it was complicated?”

“Oh. It is. There was a misunderstanding.”

Hawks hums, flipping his phone around, “Pretty interesting, someone so young being on the file of such a morbid case. What was the misunderstanding?” he asks, curious. 

Naomasa tries to seem as uninterested as the other was, “One of his belongings were found at the raid. He was a person of interest for being involved with the group, but we ruled him out.”

“Oh, yeah! That's what that other Officer had mentioned. Something about an analysis book? I didn’t think that had to do with the kid.”

Well, there goes keeping the books out of the know. Thank you Officer Koono, you’ve again made this case twice as hard. 

He raises an eyebrow at the hero. There was no ‘lie’ registered in the statement, but he had a feeling Hawk’s knew more than he was leading on. He was asking for details on the arrest that he already seemed to know.

“Must be a smart kid, huh? Is that his quirk, analysis?”

“You don’t know what his quirk is?” He asks. 

Naomasa’s not one to be forward but he had a weird feeling with all this. If he knew about the notebooks then he probably knew the kid didn’t have a quirk. 

Finding the other in a lie wouldn’t be that meaningful, but it might make him back off if Naomasa calls him out on it. Then again he has a feeling that they send the bird because he’s good at getting around his lie detector. 

Hawks squints at him before smiling and flipping the phone again, “Messenger bird, remember? I’m on a need to know basis. I only know as much as I do because I have good ears.”

He nods, and pulls his own phone out to check the time. That was a non-answer, nothing that would give him a definite ‘truth’ or ‘lie’.

“So, his quirk?”

He bites his lip, still looking down. Why the hero wanted to know was what was bothering him, but it’s also not like he’d omit the information. It’s likely the other already knows. “Midoriya’s actually quirkless.”

Hawks raises an eyebrow, whistling, “Quirkless, huh? That's rare in someone so young. Really rare.”

“Yeah, it is.” he answers with a shrug. 

The hero's phone pings and he smiles at Naomasa after reading the message, “Well, looks like we won’t be hanging out more tonight– unfortunately . They want it handled tomorrow.”

“That's good.” At least he doesn’t have to go back now, after being at the station all day.”

“They're gonna send a commission rep over in the morning, sound good?”

He nods at the other, tiredly. 

“Did you guys hold the kid?”

“No, he was released a few hours after his arrest. After we assured he had no affiliation with the group.” 

Hawks nods, “Well, they are probably going to interview him again. They’ll do that with all of the involved parties. You know, due diligence and what not.”

Naomasa doesn’t have a good way to respond to the hero. He thinks of the last thing that Nezu said to him as they parted. 

‘Do remember, Detective. If anything happens and there is a concern about Izuku Midoriya— He is now officially a ward of U.A.. Any inquiry regarding the boy must go through the school since, custody wise, he resides there.’

At the time the words had confused him, not knowing why it was relevant information for him to know. Now he can guess. 

Nezu and the HPSC didn’t get along, often stepping on each other's toes. With Midoriya being under U.A. 's custody, the commission had to go through him to get to Midoriya. 

It was better if they knew that now rather than try and track down Mrs. Midoriya. Right? That's why Nezu told him that. Right?

“You’ll find him at U.A.” He states, not beating around the bush. “Their principal was assisting on the case and found a uh.. interest in the kid.”

“Oh?” Hawks says, his wings flexing. 

He nods, “They only talked once we knew he was innocent. They left a few hours ago.”

Hawks hums, his glasses flashing in the dim street lights, “Didn’t know that Principal Nezu ever left his nest. The kid must be real interesting to lure that creature out, huh?”

Naomasa just shrugs, faining heavy disinterest. 

Hawks flips again, returning to his cheery state. “Guess that’s for Mrs. Hamasaki to deal with!” He looks to the sky, throwing his hand over his heart, dramatically. “Oh, how I’ll miss you. My heart already aches for you, detective.” 

“Go. Fly away.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’ll miss me too.”

“Till next time, Hawks.” He says, waving and walking to his apartment and away from the too comfortable hero. 

“Oh, one more thing! You guys still kept the notebooks? As evidence?”

“No. He was proven innocent so his property was returned.”

Hawks nods, turning away, “Wasn’t that important evidence? Analysis good enough to kill two heroes?”

“Midoriya Izuku’s analysis did not kill Torpedo or Black Light. Osada’s gang did. We have copies of the relevant pages in the book, there was no point to take the whole thing from the boy.”

Hawks doesn’t answer, staring into the sky, his head nodding slightly. 

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No.”

Lie.

He jolts at the abrupt lie. Hawks had never meaningfully lied to him. 

“Of course not!” He says, smirking back at Naomasa, his wings stretching out. “They’ll be in touch. I’ll fly by soon, promise!” 

The hero takes flight, not once looking back. 

Naomasa sighs heavily. He turns, walking back home and hoping that whatever that was about would be handled by Nezu— without needing his help. 

He was busy enough. 

…

…

23:00 — The Next Day

“Shigaraki! Kurogiri! Nice to see you around!” he calls as he opens the door to the bar. 

The boy was where he almost always was. Sitting on the couch and playing with a hand held video game. And the misty caretaker was where he always was. Behind the bar, polishing a spotless glass. 

“Giran.” He greets, kindly. “Would you like a drink?”

“Oh, why not. Might as well, since I’m here.”

The other pours him a drink while he looks over at the boy who barely gave him a glance. “The kid hasn’t changed much, huh?”

“I believe his motivations have not yet set in. He is still quite young.”

He hums, accepting the offered drink. 

“Is there anything in particular we can help you with today?” Kurogiri asks, always quick to jump to business. He preferred it that way, of course. 

“Yes, actually. Business has been slow lately, even for me, but I’ve come into some material I thought might interest the young boss.”

“Go away.” The boy hisses from the couch. 

“Did I say the young boss? I meant your boss.” He corrects, deciding to not even try with the lost cause. 

Kurogiri nods, “Tomura Shigaraki. You should join us.” The mist man gestures to the seat next to Giran but the other just rolls over, his game making soft noises that were a quiet background to their meeting. 

“Material?” Kurogiri prompts, moving on from the Shigaraki’s rejection. 

“Yeah! You see, a smaller Yakuza group was getting some traction recently. I of course went to offer my stellar services and I ended up buying instead of selling. Thought this might have interested you guys.” He says, pulling out the folded pages from his inner jacket pocket.

Kurogiri pulled an ashtray from behind the bar, setting it next to his drink. “Thanks,” He says as he sets down his cigarette and unfolds the papers. 

“I try not to get involved with Yakuza. You know, temporary groups lead to long-term trouble. But these guys seemed organized, which is rare nowadays. They somehow got someone with brains and it seemed to help em’ out a lot. So I checked it out and ended up doing a trade for some of these guys. Hopefully I picked well.”

Kurogiri takes the pages and looks through them for a minute while he smokes patiently. 

“Analyses?”

He grunts, leaning forwards. “I was paying attention last time I was here— remembered the kid saying something about the symbol of peace being weaker. I thought it was just hopeful whining but then I read that.” He said, nodding to the papers. 

Kurogriri continues reading and Giran hears the couch shift. Shigaraki seems to take a  sudden interest in the conversation as he slugs over and sits in the chair beside him. 

The boy glares at him tiredly, looking like he just woke up. “I’m not interested, I’m thirsty. Kurogiri, get me a drink.”

“Of course.”

He chuckles, flicking ash into the tray. “That analyst is responsible for all those heroes turning tail in Musutafu. If you ignore all the blowing smoke up the number one’s ass, they agree that he’s been slowing down significantly. Hey, don’t disintegrate that.”

The boy rolls his eyes, holding the All Might analysis with his little fingers raised. “I should just destroy it. This might as well just say, ‘ I love All Might ’ over and over again.”

“You have to read all of it, kid. It’s a lot of hype but there's coherent shit in that rambling.” 

Shigaraki throws the papers back on the table, “Whatever.”

“They are quite impressive, though I would say the author should aspire to work harder on their art.” Kurogiri says, turning the paper he was holding as he shows them the analysis of the elusive underground hero: Eraserhead and the ugly, messy drawing.

Shigaraki snatches the paper out of the others misty hand and turns in his chair, crossing his legs and leaning over the page. 

“Well? Interested?”

“No.”

“I would think so, yes.” Kurogiri says. 

“Wonderful! Love doing business with you both.”

“Go away.” The boy says as he flips over the page he was reading, only to be disappointed.

“Yeah, that one’s pretty bare. I only grabbed it cause Kurogiri’s mentioned him a few times. I also tried to get some of the U.A. staff and a couple of the top tens. Thought that may align with your interests.”

“Whatever, I don’t care.” he grumbles, crumpling the paper and shoving it in his pocket without disintegrating it. He turns back around resting his head on one hand and lazily looking through the other pages. 

“These are very detailed.” Kurogiri states.

The boy huffs, purposefully smudging one of the drawings, “They’re so messy. You can’t even read some of this, the writing is overlapping.”

“Yeah, but what's coherent is gold.”

“He is right, it does seem to be very ‘messy’ .” Kurogiri says setting down one of the All Might analysis. “This is a trusted underground analyst?”

“Well, no.” He admits, “But before that group got taken down they used these analyses to take down more than a dozen heroes in just a few months. Two of em’ permanently. They may not be official, trusted sources— but you know me. Would I sell anything that’s not top notch?”

“There's a first time for everything.” The grumpy boy says, his fifth finger lazily threatening to decay the number two hero's analysis.

Kurogiri hums, “I see. It is intriguing to see another that has noticed The Symbol of Peace slowing down, since it's not such a significant change.”

“Right!” he draws, “I knew it would pique your interests.”

“This is stupid.” Shigaraki complains, sipping at his drink as he pouts. 

Kurogiri pushes the pile of papers towards the boy. “Tomura Shigaraki, you should read all of these. I believe this insight would be very helpful to you.”

The other rolls his eyes, absentmindedly scratching at his neck as he reaches for his game. 

A small warpgate appears below the device and it disappeared into it. Shigaraki glares when his hand hits the wood of the bar and not his toy. Kurogiri seemed unfazed as he pushed the papers again, silently insisting on his request. 

The boy sneers, grabbing the pile and turning around again, so his back could lean against the bar top.  

All while grumbling about turning them to dust. 

He didn’t really care, as long as he would still be paid. Speaking of, “So, we have a deal?”

“Yes, allow me to grab your payment.”

Now they're talking. “Please, take your time! I got my drink and the kid for company.”

“Leave me alone. And I’m not a kid.”

He acted like one. 

“I’ll return shortly.” the other says, disappearing. 

He nods, turning towards the brat. “So, find one you like?”

“No. I said leave me alone.”

“I was fond of the Midnight one, personally. Didn’t grab it though.”

“Perv.” 

He shrugs, taking a longer drag. “Maybe this will spark some inspiration in you, kid. You just got confirmation on the number one getting weaker.”

“I already have confirmation,” the boy says, glaring. “ I don’t need some amateur with shitty handwriting to tell me what I already know.”

“I mean a second opinion is nice,” he says under his breath. 

“Master is the only opinion that matters. And half of this is just flattery anyways.”

Giran nods, “Yeah, but the other half is pretty damn useful information.”

“Anyone can see this stuff just by observing .”

“Well, not everyone is that keen, or that smart.” he shrugs. “ You are, but you don’t ever put yourself in a situation to utilize that ability.”

The Warpgate returns, handing him his usual commission as well as a little on top. Ahh, this is why I come back here. 

“Well, it was a pleasure doing business, boys. Is it alright if I stay, finish my drink?”

“No.”

“Of course.”

He smiles, clapping the boy on his shoulder. “You’ll find my services useful one day, kid.”

He shrugs him off roughly, complaining, “Piss off. And I said I’m not a kid.”

“Did you find anything interesting, Tomura Shigaraki?” 

The boy shuffles through the papers in his hands, keeping two fingers raised. “No. This is just a waste of time— and money.”

“On the contrary,” Kurogiri says, returning to his default state of cleaning spotless glasses, “these seem to be the most useful things we’ve purchased in a while. While unorganized and unfocused, these analyses are fairly insightful and can prove to be useful.”

“Whatever. This is stupid.”

He himself agreed with the Warpgate. Hell, he would’ve bought the whole book but the guy he tried to buy from was jumpy and uninterested in getting rid of the thing. It made sense of course. Their group seemed to only be succeeding because of it. He seemed to only really want to keep the Musutafu hero analyses since he told Giran they weren’t for sale. Not that he was interested in such easy game anyways. 

Shigaraki sneers as he turns over a seemingly blank page. “Who the hell is Midoriya Izuku?”

Before he could answer, a deep and haunting voice fills the bar from the little T.V.. He was lucky he had heard the voice before or he might have fallen off his bar stool in surprise… or fear. 

“Yes, who is Midoriya Izuku? An analyst who noticed All Might's decline is an interest to us, indeed. Excellent work Kagero, as always.”

He jolts slightly at the abandonment of his broker moniker for his real name but nods at the small T.V., raising his glass, “Of course, happy to be of use.”

Shigaraki huffs, “ ‘ use’ is generous.”

“Be nice, Tomura. You’ll soon see that relations like our dear broker here are essential. Soon, you’ll need to make connections on your own.” 

Shigaraki rolls his eyes, pouting like the child that he claimed he wasn’t.

“Starting with this analyst, Izuku Midoriya .”

The End…….

(fr)