Cyber Abyss

by AuthorRei

Summary:

Izuku Midoriya, age twelve, meets All Might and is told that he could never become a hero. Disheartened by this, he turns to the one constant in his life that he can control: computers. With his newfound hacking ability, he tries to fill up his hero notes with everything he can find in police and commission databases.

Until his mom falls ill.

Forced to sell some of the data on the black market to pay the bills, he is approached by a mysterious user who sought his hacking abilities. He disappears, assumed dead by most, to work for the League of Villains in exchange for a quirk. But when heroes start to pick up on his existence, and embrace him rather than paint him a villain, he wonders if maybe he was wrong about them.

----OR----

Villain to hero thank you very much

Chapter 1: The Offer

Notes:

For my new readers: Welcome! This is a fic inspired by a cosplay I have on tiktok (user is theanonymousotwo). Updates can be pretty sporadic at times, so I hope you'll bear with me. This fic is just an entire roller coaster :)

For my old readers: Welcome back! Y'all should be familiar enough with me by now, so I'll stop stalling.

Enjoy the read, and constructive criticism is welcome!

Edit 4/5/24: Added some more detail and adjusted grammar for an easier read. Will be doing this for the earlier chapters

In his short, some sixteen-years life, Izuku Midoriya had done many idiotic things.

For starters, he had made the mistake of befriending Kachaan when he was five. It was something Izuku couldn’t really blame himself for, given that he had been, well, five, but even before Bakugo had gotten his quirk, he had always been the one to act the hero. And when it came down to kids, when there was one hero, there was always a contrasting villain.

Izuku had also wanted to become a hero, even when he was discovered to be quirkless and deemed useless by society at large. Even All Might, after saving him from a villain, told him as much. And despite the bitter rejection, he had drowned himself in his own studies to hopefully make it one day, if as nothing more than a sidekick. He had latched onto his computer as a form of coping, learning, teaching, something he’d had access to since he was a young boy.

One day, he made the mistake of hacking into the police database. It was completely innocent, he told himself, as he wanted information for his hero notebooks, and to update the one he had on known villains as well. It was strictly for curiosity, even if it was definitely illegal and he was specifically looking for the information that the police tried to cover up. He hadn’t been as careful as he was now, nor did he have his current skill. Not only was he locked out, but their security was upgraded, and heroes were tasked with attempting to track him down.

Not that they succeeded.

He certainly wasn’t careful enough, but his skills were more than enough to get the heroes off his tail. Even then, he had been constantly looking over his shoulder for weeks, looking for any sign of a hero tailing him; jumping at every sound and running like a frightened rabbit the moment he spotted one in the vicinity.

He supposed that was when his descent into villainy started.

Even after everything that happened with his ‘best friend’, he still didn’t want to cross that line. Izuku danced across it from time to time, but he tried to convince himself that it didn’t mean he was a full blown villain. At worst, he would call himself a vigilante, if only to make himself feel better.

It was only when his mother got dangerously sick that he had to do something.

He had gone online under the name “Deku”, just as a quick cover, to post hero information for sale to the highest bidder. It had gone pretty quickly, and he was able to look after his mother; deposit money in the accounts to pay the bills and keep food stocked in the fridge. Though he soon found himself selling more and more, at increasing prices as his skill increased, hacking into more well protected and secretive databases. That was what had first put him on the villains’ radar.

He wasn’t entirely bad. From the footage that he found, he sold information about villains as well, to who he hoped were heroes when he couldn’t be bothered checking who they were behind the anonymous profile. But no matter how much anyone pushed for information, he had three simple rules for his online doings.

1: Do not meet up in person to exchange information or money.

2: Leave no trace online.

3: Do not directly contact anyone, hero or otherwise.

He did his best to abide by those rules, even though he bent them a bit whenever he saw an attack on some camera and hacked into nearby hero comms to give orders. Even though it was rare, he would always give a little smile as he watched heroes barely visible in the corners of cameras jump at the robotic-sounding voice that had just entered their ear. Those that refused to listen paid the price later when they realized that he had been right. And after every transmission, he left his calling card. 

Rumors had begun circulating about the mysterious ‘Deku’ by the time he was thirteen among heroes and villains alike, even if civilians had yet to catch on. The heroes were careful not to scare them. They were smart. Faith in hero society had been crumbling, bit by tiny bit as more and more villains popped up and the heroes were proven more incompetent, no matter All Might’s presence.

And Izuku relished it all. Well, perhaps relish was a strong word. He didn’t agree with how hero society was structured, but it was a system that needed to be in place. Despite his hatred for All Might for taking away his one dream, his one life’s purpose, he couldn’t deny the work that the heroes actually had done for this society.

The heroes had managed to message him individually on several occasions, each time under a different username, and every time, he had never responded. They really weren’t subtle. He could practically feel the eagerness behind those messages, the desire to pin down a location and finally get Deku arrested.

However, when a message came in from an unknown user, Deku felt compelled to reply, instead of tracing who they were first. It was just a simple chat; nothing more.

One: I am here to contact you with a job offer.

Deku tapped his keyboard, contemplating the word choice—it was different than the usual questions about information or the demands. He doubted it could have been All Might, or even another hero, but the wording seemed too strange to him. ‘I am here’. It was All Might’s signature, so much so that it dipped into his more ‘normal’ conversations he’d caught over hero comms.

What a joke. All Might wasn’t there where it really mattered. 

Even so, he didn’t feel as if this was from one of the heroes, and he generally had a pretty good feeling when it came to assuming character just by their messaging patterns. Before he could even think about it too much, he sent a message back. It was short, revealed nothing, and yet it still felt like he’d locked a guillotine blade over his throat.

Deku: I’m listening.

The reply came in almost instantly.

One: My associate will meet with you in person to discuss. This is something I would rather not put online, if you understand my meaning.

Izuku bit his lip as he contemplated a response, his fingers lightly resting on the keys, typing and retyping a message. He understood very well why they were cautious, which was very smart, especially online. No virtual trace, no chance for heroes to find evidence of misdeeds. Even he wasn’t good enough to completely remove his own digital footprint.

Not yet, anyway.

However, when he attempted to find out more about this unknown user, to look into him like he’d been less inclined to do when he saw the initial message, all that came up was a blank wall. No leads, no traces, no profiles, no data. They were clearly more skilled than he was, and he wasn’t willing to take that chance. All it took was a little bit of digging, and they’d figure out exactly where he was.

Deku: That will not be possible. I apologize.

One: What a shame. I was looking forward to seeing you work in person, Midoriya.

His blood ran cold. They were more skilled than he.

Deku: I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.

His hands shakily typed out the message. Had he not been careful enough? Did he leave a trail? Or was it a hero who suspected him in person? If it was a hero, he’d get arrested. If it was a villain, that might even be worse. They were a greater risk, because that might mean his death rather than just a few years in prison.

One: I have an offer for you. Your abilities in exchange for a quirk.

Deku: Now I know you’re lying.

Izuku didn’t mean to be snarky, not when they clearly had all the power. He almost instinctively apologized, but he bit back his words, and leaned back in his swivel chair, casting a look around his dark bedroom as if something could protect him from whoever was on the other side of the screen. This wasn’t one of those nightmares where he could just bury himself in blankets to hide from the monsters lurking under his bed or in his closet. These monsters were real, and he felt like if he took it, he’d be making a deal with the devil.

His eyes fell on the All Might hoodie that his mother had gotten him as a gift only a year before, still hanging unused on one of his bedposts. A pang of guilt went through his chest, but he turned his eyes back to the screen, shutting out the remnants of the child he used to be. That child was long gone. It was a shame he still tried to hold on to memories of a better time.

One: On the contrary. As I said before, I would prefer to speak in person. Are you interested?

One: There can be an arrangement to pay you as well for any work done outside of what is asked of you.

The user sent another message containing a number, and Izuku didn’t even hesitate before slamming his fingers on the keys to come up with a response. The offer seemed too good to refuse. With his mother still in recovery, he needed that money.

Deku: Name the time, name the place. I’ll be there.

Izuku met up with the mysterious ‘One’s associate in a park only a few miles from his home a few days later. Trying to throw together something to shield his identity, he had thrown on the hoodie that his mom had gotten for him and donned a black medical mask. He would have gotten more, but he didn’t have much beyond a headset, and the only good that would do is if he linked it to his phone to alert him of nearby heroes, and that program didn’t even work half of the time. Dealing with villains was extremely dangerous, but now he didn’t have much of a choice.

He would have alerted heroes, but then he would have had to explain why he had been threatened in the first place, which would likely lead to getting arrested. Even if they would take pity on him as a child and pretty much the sole provider for his family, they wouldn’t take kindly to him willingly selling their secrets to villains. Intentional or not, he was as bad as a villain in their eyes, and they would definitely bring him in, even though he would alert them of bigger, badder villains that had to be lingering in the area.

That left him only one choice. He was alone, had no backup plan, and could very well be killed.

It wasn’t like his life had any meaning anyway. Izuku was, after all, quirkless.

He arrived in the park early by a few minutes, carefully watching his surroundings for any people. No one was around. It was possible that one of them had a quirk that kept them hidden, so he didn’t want to take any chances. One of his notebooks was hidden against his body, a reassurance that he might have what they wanted so that they could leave him alone. However, One had mentioned a job offer, and he had to say that he was intrigued, at the very least. It wasn’t every day that a kid got offered a quirk, even though that person had to have been lying. Even in a world where literally anything could be a quirk, it just wasn’t possible.

Right as the clock struck nine, a black and purple fog appeared out of thin air, growing and warping like a giant pile of sentient sludge. Izuku took a step back in alarm, but watched, transfixed as two glowing yellow eyes appeared in the middle of the fog, and immediately focused on him, standing alone.

“Deku, I presume?”

It took him a moment to process, before he hesitantly nodded, carefully observing the fog before him. “That’s me.”

“You’re young.”

He tilted his head to the side. Was the name from earlier a bluff? No, it couldn’t have been. If One knew his name, then he had to know his age. “I’m surprised One didn’t tell you.”

“He did. I didn’t expect you to be a child.”

“I’m fourteen!” Izuku didn’t mean to snap, but he didn’t like it when people discredited him as ‘just a kid’. “I haven’t been a child in a long time. Now are we going to talk or am I just wasting my time?”

The void seemed to ponder this for a mere moment. “My master wanted to speak with you directly. ‘One’, as you call him. I am simply here to transport you there.”

“Teleportation quirk,” Izuku said immediately, mind pondering the implications, apprehension not quite gone but at least dulled. Quirk analysis had always been one of his favorite topics. “You create portals to specific locations, don’t you?”

Yellow eyes scanned him thoroughly, thoughtfully taking in his appearance and his words. They didn’t have pupils, or any definition, like the rest of the ‘body’, but Izuku could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck from the sudden feeling of being stared at. “Your work does not give you enough credit. If I hadn’t known, I would have assumed you had an Analyst quirk.”

That put a sour taste in Izuku’s mouth. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Before he could say anything else, the fog began to spread and warp around him, obscuring his vision from anything other than purple and black smoke that passed over his body as if a ghost was walking through him.

“Hold still.”

Izuku tilted his head up, waiting patiently for the haze to clear from his vision. He shivered, despite the coziness of his jacket. To keep calm, he bunched the material up under his fingers. It kept him grounded, and out of his mind, out of whatever panic was bound to come. He needed to be fully prepared for whatever was on the other side.

There was a pretty high possibility that he would die today. Deku knew this, but he wasn’t afraid. If they were going to kill him, he wanted it over with. That would be his price to pay for meddling with villains. His only regret would be not saying his goodbyes to his mother. He would have regretted not informing his friends, if he had any. At this point, the only thing he would lose would be the one thing he was trying to protect.

As of right now, she’d be fine. He was okay with that.

“Midoriya.”

He spun around, quickly scanning through the fog for who was speaking to him. Wasn’t it supposed to be cleared by now? He’d been transported somewhere else, if someone else was now here.

The voice chuckled. “I’m afraid I will be keeping the barrier up for a little while longer, at least until we come to an agreement.”

“Are you One?” Izuku blurted out, as the voice that was speaking to him sounded nothing like that of the portal villain. It had to be.

 “I am called All For One. I was the one who contacted you.”

Oh. Deku crossed his arms, attempting to look unfazed, knowing that it didn’t work in the slightest.. “You claimed that you offered a quirk as payment.”

“I did,” was the reply.

“You can stop with the lies. What do you want me to do? There are many others that want my work just like you do.”

The man laughed again. “Oh, Midoriya, we really are impatient aren't we?”

“If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” Izuku didn’t know where the extra confidence was coming from, but he appreciated it all the same. “If not, stop wasting my time.” 

“Well then.” The fog was pulled away from his vision, revealing the portal villain standing at the side of what had to be All For One, hooked up to so many machines and monitors that Izuku couldn’t tell if the man was dead or alive. The room was very dark, the glow of yellow eyes the only thing that let Izuku see where he was supposed to be looking.

“My quirk allows me to give and take quirks,” the newly dubbed ‘All For One’ said. “I have spent a long time tracking one down for you. Forgive me that it took so long.”

Deku tilted his head. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I will give you the quirk when you agree to my terms.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will have Kurogiri take you home. I am not one who kills without reason, Izuku.”

Deku considered this for a moment, and nodded. “Alright. What are your terms?”

Deku did not leave that building without gaining much.

But he lost much as well.

Kurogiri took him home, as All For One promised. Deku was beginning to believe that he was truly a man of his word. But it was only long enough for him to gather his notebooks and anything else he might need. Kurogiri took him to someplace different once he stepped back into the portal, now known as a ‘warp gate’, to an abandoned bar with a basement where their operations were planned out.

That was where Deku set up his camp, creating new accounts on the many computers that All For One had provided for him. His new quirk was barely brimming under the surface of his skin, a faint tingling that he had yet to get used to, but he ignored it easily enough. Those that lived in the base left him alone as he got things functioning and running smoothly. Kurogiri had helpfully mentioned that there would be others who dropped by from time to time, some even with new recruits, like him.

All For One had given him another name. It was to keep his family safe, as he had said. It was to be used from now on to keep him safe and undercover.

Izumura Shigaraki appreciated the gesture. But Deku didn’t care one way or the other. As long as they left him alone, he would work for them.

They did give him a quirk, after all.

But despite the villains clearly keeping their distance, it didn’t take too long before something interrupted his silent musings.

“Hey. Kid.” A blue-haired teenager leaned on the open door of what Deku claimed as his room. “Heard you were the new player.”

Chapter 2: The Quirk

The teen stood in the doorway, his red eyes carefully watching Deku. Deku watched him right back, eyes scanning him up and down. He didn’t know the other’s quirk quite yet, and being in a lair full of villains, it was probably best to play it safe for now.

“Hello,” he tried. “Name’s Deku.”

There was a beat of silence before the other person responded.

“Tomura Shigaraki.” His eyes scanned the room before turning back to Deku. “I heard my master sent you to help us.”

“As I understand it,” he shifted in his seat slightly, “I’m to give you information on the heroes when you need it. Anything else is outside of the contract and I’ll be paid separately.”

Tomura scowled. “Damn you and your contracts. You’re here to help us take down All Might. I hope that won’t be an issue given your,” he fixed his eyes on the hoodie, “ interest in him.”

Despite the mask still covering his nose and mouth, he fought to keep his face carefully blank, forcing his alway expressive eyes to be devoid of emotion. “I have no issues giving you information on him. A job is a job, Shigaraki. I hold my end of the bargain.” Crossing his arms, he got up, attempting to look, at the very least, not scared. “I’ve got far too much experience to be bound to any one group. I’m here as a thank you to All For One. Make no mistake, if I get a better offer from someone else for anything outside of what I was asked to do, I will sell to them instead. I know all about your little group. You need me. Now leave and let me do my job.”

He didn’t turn his back to Tomura. How could he, when the clearly-annoyed teenage brat could potentially have a quirk that could kill him without a second thought? Instead, he kept his eyes locked with the villain’s, praying to whatever god that would listen that he would go away and just leave him alone.

Somehow, miraculously, Shigaraki turned to leave.

“I expect great things, Deku. And if not- ” His red eyes turned to lock with Deku’s. “I tend to kill things that disappoint me.”

Deku didn’t respond, only tilting his head up higher, keeping eye contact until the villain left. He let out an unsteady breath, and quietly crept up towards the door, closing it with a soft click. He would have locked it, but most of his instincts told him that maybe they wouldn’t like that all that much. This was his life now. He might as well deal with it.

Shigaraki’s quirk was...interesting, to say the least. While he hadn’t heard much from All For One, nor had Kurogiri said anything, he knew that it was powerful, and extremely destructive. If he had to guess, he would say it was something that broke down objects directly, if the effect it had on his body was anything to go by. The scabbed over skin and the cracked lips surely had to be from his own quirk. As a villain, it wasn’t likely that others would attack him directly, especially if he was the unofficial head of the group. The “League of Villains,” as All For One so helpfully called them.

Deku shook his head. A name like that couldn’t be any more tacky.

His new quirk had not proven much of an issue, but then again, he had not used it to get into the devices provided. A small incident pulled him into the world of the internet by accident, something that minorly freaked him out. It was like a baby learning to walk for the first time. He stumbled, he fell, and he got spooked, and retreated to his original state: quirkless and utterly useless.

Unfortunately, he did not have much time to learn, not with villains constantly breathing down his neck for results. He had to master it, and quickly, before they broke the contract and killed him for not providing. 

Well, if they did, at least his mom would have enough to live off for the rest of her life.

He cast a glance at the thirteen notebooks stacked on the back corner of his new desk. Every single one held information that he had painstakingly collected, pouring blood, sweat, and especially tears into every letter, every fight that he skipped school to go watch, the times when the battle got far too close for comfort and he ended up wrapping his injuries in a locked bedroom so he wouldn’t worry his mother. They were worth more than their weight in gold, and he was lucky enough not to have lost any of them. 

And who knows. Maybe with this new power he had, he could add onto them, and sell the information as needed. The money was not really needed on his end, so he could take just enough to survive on and split the rest among his mother and the many quirkless kids he had met in his old school, all relentlessly bullied for having no power. It wouldn’t help them, he knew, but it could be a comfort in a world where there was none.

Deku shook away his thoughts. They weren’t needed right now. The skills he had learned throughout his dealings would be far more valuable to him than some useless remembering of a middle school lifestyle. He had no time to spend reminiscing about the past. There was a quirk he had to master.

The computer sat innocently in front of him, but it was far from that. Pausing, with his hands gently resting on the keyboard, he took a deep breath, attempting to access the new power within him. It was just burning under the surface, ready to be used. With his only thought hoping that it didn’t go badly, he willingly closed his eyes and dove into the complicated mind of a machine.

He opened his eyes mere seconds later at the utter silence that echoed around him. Neither a whisper nor a word, not even the creaking of a door or any other activity that would signify life. Endless lines of green text rolled through a black void, each one a line of increasingly more and more complex code. He couldn’t even tell what each one of them led to, just knew that they must have been a way out of the void.

One of the lines drifted in his direction. Without even thinking about it, he reached out to grab at it.

The text dissolved into pixels, and the scrolling lines seemed to shrink in size, moving far, far away from where he was. A tiny, blinking rectangle appeared just in front of him, about the size of a phone. It took him a moment to realize that it was a cursor, waiting for input. There was no keyboard, though, so he did the next best thing.

“Location?”

The word ‘location’ appeared and disappeared in a fraction of a second, before a holographic globe materialized before his eyes, a small dot in the middle of Japan. Somehow, without even enlarging the map, he knew just where he was. The words came to him in his mind, input from a computer that followed his every wish.

And he knew just the way to properly test it. 

“Japanese Police Case Files,” he called out. Maybe this was where he would properly get to see all that was promised for this quirk. Sure, visualization was useful, but he didn’t really need it to do his job. Having an AI in his mind that translated his every desire was useful, and something that most would kill for, but not for Deku. Unless the quirk gave him something that he would otherwise be unable to do himself, it wasn’t worth it.

Instead of facing a system that he would have to breach, Deku was greeted by the sight of a large bank vault, a giant handle at the front, just waiting to be opened. Unlike everything else in this cyberspace, it seemed solid, not even the slightest bit transparent.

Questions floated across his mind. Was this supposed to be a metaphor for the firewalls surrounding their systems?

Slowly, he made his way over to the object, every step against the floor emitting small traces of glowing electricity making its way through the pathways embedded in the floor. His hand met the solid, cool metal of the safe. The moment it did, a combination flashed through his mind in a messy array of ones and zeroes. Somehow, though, it made complete sense to him.

His hands twisted the handle, and it opened, swinging open on silent hinges. The inside appeared much larger than the safe made it seem, rows of shelves labeled in glowing blue text, alphabetized going down the row, divided into ongoing, cold, and solved cases. As he walked past, any labeled file that his eyes settled on for more than a second appeared in a digital envelope, slowly moving up and down, waiting for him to grab until he turned away.

So this was the digital world that his quirk offered. He had no need to code a single line of text anymore. His mind did it for him. What a power this was, and it made him wonder who All For One obtained it from. Surely with a quirk like this, they could have been rich, if they used it correctly. They certainly would have no issues finding a place to sell their talents to, just like Deku was doing now.

Whoever it was from, he would put it to good use.

He withdrew from cyberspace, only to find the exact documents he had been looking at open on his computer, numbered case files blinking at him, waiting to be opened. So this quirk wasn’t just in his mind’s eye.

Good to know.

He glanced at the time, minorly shocked when he discovered that he only had been using his newfound quirk for a few minutes, rather than the half an hour it felt like as he was figuring logistics out. It warped his perception of time, as well. That was also another interesting point. He would note it down in his books, but he was not about to give his own weaknesses to anyone who cared to take a look at his writings. He could keep his own notes in his head. His clients didn’t call him Analyst for no reason.

There seemed to be nothing else to do in the small room, nor did he particularly want to dive back into the computer world, but on the other side of the wooden door lay untold numbers of villains with unknown quirks, and he most certainly did not want to push his luck on the first day. It was late enough, and he had many things to be doing tomorrow, so he concluded that it was time to turn in. It might have been early for any other self-respecting teenager, but Deku was far from ordinary. In an ideal world, he might have been a hero. He might have been in this world, perhaps.

Well, not anymore. Quirk or no, he wanted nothing to do with the majority of the so-called heroes that patrolled the streets. He might help them on occasion, for a hefty price, but that was the extent of it. No person in the world could convince him to give up the life he had. It was by no means comfortable, always having him on his toes and checking over his shoulder, but that was what he had chosen, and that was the life he would live. Desperate times called for a change in mindset. It was far too late to change his mind, anyway.

Just before he fell asleep, he pulled out his phone. If this “Cyber Abyss” quirk truly lived up to his expectations, he would be able to access anything. That included the stuff he had yet to get into, the most secure files on top heroes across the world. If he could get into those, the world would be at his beck and call.

He didn’t necessarily want to rule the world, but these villains clearly did. Maybe he could find a way to do his own thing, with none of them finding out. As long as he remained in contact with them, he was sure they wouldn’t care what he got up to.

On his phone, he had a secure file that he had managed to download before he got booted from their servers. He had no clue what it contained, but if it was so secure that he couldn’t even get into it, there had to be something extremely valuable behind the digital lock. 

And he didn’t care what was in the file, if it was even valuable to him. He wanted to break into it.

It didn’t take long before he entered cyberspace again, the file hovering in front of him with a large, unbreakable lock keeping it from him. So this was how his mind visualized it.

“Unlock,” he called out. It didn’t budge. His brow furrowed, and he tried again. “Unlock?”

Nothing. The lock didn’t even budge an inch, nothing to show that the attempt had made any progress at all.

“Okay,” he said aloud. “Okay. What’s different about this lock?” 

Sometimes, he found that talking himself through the equation helped him figure things out. Asking the questions out loud often helped him figure out the mistakes he made when he was younger, so it was bound to help him now, in a new environment, teaching himself something that had not been done before. What was the simple solution?

“A key!” He clapped his hands together. “The other lock needed a combination, not a key.” He paused, glancing at the lock. “Key. I need a key. How do I get a key in here?” It was clear now that his quirk only benefited him if he knew how to solve the problem in the first place, consciously or not. 

“I need a key,” he repeated, more trying to get some form of reaction from his surroundings, the green text around him annoyingly unhelpful. “Am I supposed to code one myself or is this going to work for me?”

Letters seemingly pulled themselves out of their lines of code, floating in his vague direction, meeting with others and forming into a solid object. It wasn’t a key, much to his disappointment, but when he grabbed it, he noticed that it was moldable, like clay.

“So this thing gives me the basework for everything. Okay. I can work with that.”

It took an embarrassing amount of reforming, but when he finally pressed the barely-passable key into the lock, it clicked open to reveal the information inside. Just like in the futuristic tech movies, the internal documents scattered around him in a circle, waiting for him to open each one. It didn’t surprise him how much was there; it had been well protected after all, but it still was a lot to go through, and certainly not something he wanted to do at that time.

Deku pulled himself out of cyberspace, and dropped the phone to his chest. He had been in there far longer this time, as it was nearly eleven. Staying up later didn’t really bother him, though. At least he got in.

He shut his eyes, rolled over on the bed, and was asleep within minutes, the computers in the corner of the room slowly blinking off.

Chapter 3: Close Calls

Almost a year had passed with the League, and yet it didn’t feel like it had been that long since Kurogiri pulled him away from that park. They had gotten some new members, most notably a few dozen thugs and low level thieves to keep the police off their tails. Tomura spoke of All For One’s planned invasion of UA, though it was still several months away. Every day, their broker seemed to be pulling in new members to watch their backs while the fighting was going on.

And unfortunately, it was Deku’s job to keep watch over all of them.

He did his best, however begrudgingly, and used the cameras located all over the city to keep watch over them. They lost several to petty crimes, their quirks not strong enough to stand up to the heroes. Some didn’t even have that, and got taken in by regular, good-as-quirkless police officers. God, Deku detested police officers, yet he really had no reason to. It was the insinuation from All Might that they were where the reject heroes ended up. Somehow, he found himself keeping his distance. Though heroes were the real issue, he couldn’t stop himself from hating the cops along with them. Just the mere hint from All Might was enough to keep him far away from the supposed law-abiding protectors.

Izumura shook his head. How pathetic was he, still listening to the words of a hero who left him alone on a rooftop, able to jump at any point without a second thought. Sure, another hero might have come along to stop him, but did All Might really even consider the words coming out of his own mouth? The least he could have done was make sure he was alright and get him down to the ground safely, to avoid an incident. Maybe then the disappearance of a quirkless kid wouldn’t weigh so heavily on his conscience.

Well, Deku wasn’t sure if it affected him. But he was certain All Might had seen at least one of the news articles. He had made sure to send it to his computer. Or phone, he couldn’t really remember. All he knew was that All Might definitely knew. After a year, with no other leads, they would be forced to conclude that he was dead. Surely then, All Might would recognize his mistake, and Deku could work more openly now that Izuku Midoriya was dead.

UA entrance exams were coming up, and Deku would be lying if he said that he hadn’t considered at least attempting the exam. The test itself would not be that complicated, and he was fairly certain that he could arrange for it to be taken elsewhere, rather than on site. Kachaan would surely be at the testing as well, and it would do no good for his cover to be blown this soon. Plus, as a student in UA, he would be infinitely more valuable to the League, not that he wasn’t already. His skills could easily get him into the computer systems, but that was far too boring. Actually snooping around was part of the thrill, all the nervous energy buzzing in his bones while he wondered if this was where they would catch him. Online? No, he was far too good. There was no fun in it. He needed the thrill, the slight danger that he might be found out. Lingering in the base, left behind while the others went out, was no longer fun to him. He had to do something. 

The day before applications had to be in, Izumura Shigaraki was typing up his essay and submitting it along with the filled out form to the UA website. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to take his written test off-site, so he only had the hope that he would not be placed near anyone he knew. It was wildly unlikely that he would be, yet there was always the chance.

Luckily enough, the combat test would be simple for him. If all they had to do was take down robots, if he could find a quiet place to delve into their computers, he could shut all of them down in a single fell swoop. Proving it was his doing would be much more complicated. If he truly wanted to get into UA, if only to see how they functioned and trained heroes, he had to show off his quirk. Unfortunately, it was extremely likely that the teachers there, all pro heroes, would recognize his work as similar to the vigilante/villain (he wasn’t sure what category he fell under) that often left small hints of his presence wherever he went. His appearances had never been in person, he had made sure of that, but even if he did want to show up with heroes around, he had to have a disguise. And definitely not anything like the shitty mask and hoodie he had worn to meet Kurogiri. That would not do at all.

The exams were still several months away, after all, and he had the time to plan and work out what he was going to do. From his own findings, it appeared that All Might was considering accepting a job at UA. Working right under the nose of the number one hero was far too appealing for him to deny. It was just yet another on the list of reasons why attending UA would be beneficial for him, hero or no. He had a lot of information on All Might, yet very few of it was useful to him or anyone. That was probably the one issue All For One had with him: there was nothing he could do to counter All Might. For all intents and purposes, All Might had no weaknesses.

Well, All For One said he knew of one. But that was another issue altogether.

Izumura pushed himself away from his desk, stretching his arms above his head. Sure, his job involved remaining at a computer and keeping watch over everything, but it didn’t exactly do much to keep him active. Over the last several months, his already pale skin had gone practically ghost white. He needed some sort of sunlight, even if being out of the base was a danger to his entire mission. Questions swirled in his mind as he stood up and made his way towards the door. Would he be spotted? Would he be followed? Would he be arrested?

He knew, of course, that he was overreacting. Deku only had a digital calling card; no face could warn the heroes of his existence. As it was, he was near his home city, as he had come to realize. The urge to see his mom was far too great. He could see her, just once in passing, right? That wouldn’t do much, would it?

Passing through the bar, he wasn’t surprised to see Tomura sitting on one of the stools, a drink (non-alcoholic, Kurogiri would kill himself before he let a child drink) resting in a gloved hand. The gloves had not originally been his idea, but Deku had adjusted them a bit so Tomura could game on his phone in peace. The favor was appreciated in the form of Tomura not yelling at him as much.

“Where are you going?” he grumbled into his drink. 

“Out,” Deku replied coolly. They weren’t friends to any degree, barely business partners as it was. He had no business knowing where he was going.

Red eyes turned to watch him as he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack next to the bar. “Thought you were supposed to stay inside and do other shit.”

“Change of plan.” He pulled his jacket on, throwing the hood over his head. “Have to do some intel gathering. Will be back late.”

“And you can’t do that online?”

Of course. Here he was, woefully ignorant of the dealings that couldn’t be done online. 

“Trust me, if I could be doing it online, I would be.” Deku reached for the doorhandle, the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably as eyes bored into him. “I have other clients that I need to get in touch with. I’ll be back later.”

Before Tomura could utter another word, he slammed the door behind him, tightly gripping the handle so he couldn’t be followed. When nobody tried to twist it, he let go, and breathed out a sigh of relief. He had a mask in his jacket pocket, and he slid the straps over his ears, covering his nose and mouth. It wouldn’t do much in the long run, with his hair being, well, green, and easily spotted and remembered. While unnatural hair was common in their society, it was not a risk he wanted to take, especially since photos of him had been posted in nearby cities searching for him only weeks previously. Everything might be fresh in people’s minds, but he had enough confidence that he would not be spotted. It had been far too long since he had seen his mother, anyway. He was due for a trip.

Taking the train was not a difficult matter. He dealt in cash, preferring to leave no virtual trace. Erasing it later would be no issue, yet under close inspection, it could be questioned. It was far too much of a hassle to deal with, so going without a noticeable trace was a much better solution. Plus, it was common enough that nobody really looked twice.

Even so, there were security cameras stationed all around the platform. He swore he could feel the eyes of the security guard behind them watching him, like he was doing something wrong. There was no reason to be anxious, but still. He hadn’t been out in a long time. Especially after dealing with villains for years, he became more and more wary of anything that could potentially reveal him.

Heroes were also nearby, going to take the train to other cities. It was normal, he knew this, but it didn’t settle his nerves any more. He couldn’t be recognized as Deku, but there was always the chance that one of them would see him as the boy he used to be, and turn him into police. If Deku went inactive soon after, surely the police would piece things together. They might be incompetent, but they were not stupid. 

He made that mistake once before, and that had nearly ended with multiple heroes being dispatched to his detected location, as he had been working in a small cafe known for housing vigilantes. Deku managed to route them elsewhere, sent to different places to stop various crimes, and only then could he breathe easy. He changed locations after that, hiding his devices in a backpack and using his old school uniform to keep hidden in plain sight.

When the train arrived, he got swept up in the small crowd to get on, despite the train not being all that crowded. Eventually, he settled in a small seat in the back corner, earbuds in his ears and phone in his hand. His bangs shielded his eyes, concealing where he was looking, and to the untrained observer he would look like nothing more than a teenager hunched over the phone in his hand. Really, he wanted to keep an eye on the heroes that he now shared an enclosed space with.

Part of him really wanted to mess with the heroes, just to see their in person reactions. However, he knew that if they caught him snickering about a message sent in their comms, they would arrest him before he even had a chance to run and switch to another train. Not only that, but he doubted he would be able to get somewhere safe before they told their own agents to monitor the cameras in the area. His quirk had no defensive capabilities, as far as he was aware. In fact, it left his body vulnerable, so much so that he had to post a camera to monitor himself and those around him while he was in cyberspace as to react quickly. Aside from that, he found no other way to keep himself safe, which meant that in a life or death situation, it would be more of a hindrance than a help. 

Deku connected his headphones to his phone, quickly glancing at the heroes to make sure they were not paying attention. Most seemed uninterested, buried in phones or staring vaguely out the window. If he used his quirk now, it was probable that they wouldn’t notice. It was dangerous, especially with them around, but for now it should be alright. He was ‘just a kid’ after all. Illegal quirk usage was prosecuted more for adults.

It didn’t take long for him to get back into the heroes’ systems, listening to the dispatchers relaying news of crimes, incidents, and villain sightings, calling certain heroes to each scene. It was busy, people always talking, something always happening, but it was relaxing to him. When he pulled himself out of cyberspace, he listened to the calming words of the dispatchers as they called out certain heroes in cities nearby him. He could have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for who stepped on the train at the next stop.

Yagi Toshinori, the man more commonly known as All Might.

This time, he wasn’t in what Deku had come to realize as his ‘powered up’ form. Instead, he was lean, skinny, and practically a skeleton. No hero costume. No obnoxious yellow suit. Nobody would recognize him like this, and Deku counted on it.

He felt a surge of...something, he didn’t really know what it was. But he had a sudden desire to mess with the number one hero.

Deku watched All Might find a seat closer to the back, close to him yet not close enough to be anything concerning. The hero’s phone was in his hand, taking up what looked like barely any of his attention and, almost unnoticeable, an earpiece rested in his ear. 

It was a simple matter to wait for him to properly pay attention to his phone, and it was slightly more complicated to get into his phone from here. However, as long as they had the device connected online, Deku could reach it. Finding out how to screw with him was a little harder. He had so many options.

Instead of anything too complex, he whited out the static running through the earpiece. He could see the slightly confused look as All Might reached up, almost fiddling with the device, before glancing at the heroes around him, and deciding to leave it be, his hand coming back and folding in his lap.

Are you going to take the job? Deku typed out on his phone, sending the feed directly to the earpiece. It would only come through as a slightly robotic, mechanical voice, and indeed, All Might jumped at the voice coming through his ear.

He glanced around worriedly, picking up his phone to most likely text someone involved with his tech.

You try to alert anyone and I’ll wipe your phone.

All Might jumped again, his eyes scanning the train. Deku made himself scarce, hiding his eyes behind his hair and typing out another message to hopefully not look suspicious. He could feel his heart rate elevating, and he wondered vaguely if All Might could hear it.

Text this number. It wasn’t his phone number, but rather a rerouted one that linked to his phone. He would sever the connection after their conversation was over, and then there would be no trace of him ever having it.

Not having much of a choice, All Might complied, typing furiously. What do you mean, ‘take the job’?

Deku grinned. The teaching position of course. What other position would I mean, All Might?

He could practically see the gears whirring in the hero’s mind, trying to find a solution to the situation. I’m afraid you have the wrong number.

Don’t be silly. I know All Might when I see him. It was a risky move on Deku’s part, but it worked. Instead of concluding that whoever was on the opposite end of the screen was on the train, All Might grit his teeth, and typed out a response. He glanced up once he’d finished, and Deku’s phone alerted him a moment later.

I am assuming this is the hacker I’ve heard so much about.

Oh! You’ve heard of me! Deku could have clapped his hands together in delight. As it was, he settled for replying to the hero with a smile, content in the knowledge that he now had his phone number. I’m pleased. I haven't done anything directly against you so I wasn’t positive you had. The name’s Deku.

Deku. Why are you doing this?

Why not? It’s fun.

It’s illegal and you know that.

Do I?

All Might just looked more and more frustrated, gripping his phone tighter and tighter. If he was in his muscled form, he would have cracked it in two. Izuku was more than pleased to see the number one hero so powerless in such a situation.

You sell hero information to villains. That is not something I stand for.

In case you weren’t aware, I sell to heroes as well. Anyone who has the money, I’ll work for. Like you, All Might. I very rarely do things that will not be of a benefit to me. 

Then why speak to me?

Deku tapped his phone warily. What should he say here? I bring a warning.

When he didn’t elaborate, All Might tried to prompt him. About?

You’re smart. I’ll give you a hint. See if you can decode it. ALL JPS POF XILL IOWAEF VA.

Before All Might could respond, he severed the link, booted All Might from the conversation, and reset his phone just in case. The earpiece’s signal was unblocked, and Deku let the stream of data return to All Might’s ear. He listened in, for a moment, and then turned on some calming music to help settle himself.

Deku’s heart was pounding, and this time it wasn’t just from excitement, but a touch of fear as well. It was far too on the spot for his liking. He had come up with the cypher far too quickly. Any person looking in the right place would be able to decipher it, and that meant that he betrayed his contract without any sort of benefit to him. If Tomura found out, he would be dead. Literally.

He got off the train at the next stop, along with All Might and a few other heroes. He didn’t have the courage, nor the energy to mess with any of them after the stunt he just pulled. Why, why, had he done that?! Heroes were the problem with this society. Why did he help them? Oh, he was so screwed if the league discovered anything was up. Applying to UA would just be the nail in the coffin, if they discovered it. He would be forced to flee to the heroes, and that wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.

It only then properly occurred to him that he might be in a bad situation. Worrying about his life over a hint that he barely gave to a hero who wouldn’t have the brainpower to decipher what he meant. And even if it was deciphered, it wouldn’t give them much of an edge. Even with a warning, they couldn’t possibly be prepared for what was going to happen.

Deep breaths, he reminded himself. You are not going to die. 

“Kid, you alright?”

He jumped a foot in the air, startled by the person who just appeared next to him. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure, but by then he was certain that he had gone bright red under his mask.

“Yeah, I’m...fine,” he said slowly, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Just...thinking, is all.”

The person seemed unconvinced, yet as they looked on further, something akin to recognition flashed in their eyes. He leaned forward, and Izuku pulled away.

“My name is detective Naomasa Tsukauchi,” he introduced cautiously. “Are you familiar with an Izuku Midoriya?”

Without meaning to, Deku took a step back. “Really, I have to get going-”

“It’ll just take a moment. I promise.”

Deku continued backing away. “I don’t know who that is. My name is Izumura. I’m sorry I could not be of more help to you.” At the first sight of a clear pathway, he took off, squeezing through crowds that the older, taller detective couldn’t. Even after he was certain that he lost him, Deku still took several random turns to lose himself in the sea of people doing their shopping.

They knew he was still alive. He wasn’t safe out in the open anymore, not that he was to begin with. Despite police pronouncing him dead, he should have known that exposing himself like this wasn’t worth it. There would be those that remembered his face, remembered how similar he looked to his mother, who they likely had spoken with directly.

A voice in the back of his mind told him to go see his mom, despite the risks associated with getting caught. He decided to ignore it. It would do him no good to stay out, after this. At least not in this city, or anywhere nearby it. 

Deku had no intention of returning to the base immediately, where he would suffer from the wrath of an irritated Tomura for the next several hours, so he decided to find a nice place to hunker down in, to calm his mind and to work. There were still many other info grabs he still had to do for the clients who reached out to him from other countries. Most seemed to be from the United States, seeking information on their top heroes. Without being in person to observe the fights, it wouldn’t be as easy to observe and note their habits. Videos would work, but not for underground or not well known heroes. If there was no information in their files, he would be at a loss.

However, when he settled in a small cafe in the sketchier part of town, buying a coffee to settle his nerves, he found several more emails in his inbox, waiting. In fact, one of them was sent mere minutes before he arrived at the cafe. 

From a certain detective Naomasa Tsukauchi.

His own curiosity prevented himself from deleting the email immediately, so he clicked on it to read. Given the circumstances, it was strangely polite.

Good evening. I was told I could reach Deku this way. As I understand it, you recently came into contact with All Might in order to give him a warning. I would like to discuss this more with you, if you are able. While I do not expect you to make an appearance in person, a few recent events have caused us to question your classification as a villain.

Ah, so they did consider him a villain. Well, if that was how they were going to play it, then he would play along as well. He continued reading.

According to several heroes, you have hacked into our communication devices on multiple occasions. Our own searches have detected breaches recently, each one with your clear signature. Though many times you did nothing, you have rerouted heroes to crime scenes where they were needed, as well as give direct instructions to heroes to report crimes that had only just begun happening. Looking over camera footage, it appears that your messages reached heroes just moments after a disturbance took place, long before any heroes or police would catch it. I have also heard that you have, on occasion, sold or given information about current and cold cases to heroes. I will admit, many of those in my office have described your work as a blessing, and a weight off their shoulders. My opinion has not been made yet. You are still a danger, and I would rather work with you in the future than against. I would prefer not to have someone in a bad situation, and selling to villains is dangerous. It can get you killed if you continue.

I await your response.

Deku hummed, glancing up at the people walking around the cafe. It wasn’t all that busy, yet he still had to be careful that nobody was looking over his shoulder. Even a civilian could betray him, even if most tended to stay silent.

The email was nicely worded, but the detective was asking for assistance on other cases. Deku loved a good mystery, yet the most he usually was able to do was analyze their quirk and their habits. While effective in solving, it wasn’t all that interesting most of the time, unless the case had something he was personally interested in. It might help the heroes, but it wouldn’t solve it entirely, and that annoyed him. Greatly.

He decided to type an email in response, as it had only been a few minutes and the detective was likely to see.

Thank you for your interest, but I do not do things without reason. I am aware of what I have gotten myself into, and I am well aware of the dangers it has. That being said, I work for pay, as any other person does. It just so happens that villains pay better for my talents than heroes ever did.

I will admit, I have some level of interest in working with you. If you are not already aware, my specialization lies in quirk data and analysis. I can monitor and track events and people, though usually I monitor a specific location for several hours before switching to another high-crime area. I cannot catch everything, nor do I believe I will be much use to you in tracking villains down unless I get their location first. While I do not disclose client’s information, I can warn you that several have quirks that allow them to avoid capture. I cannot help you very much.

Deku would have written more, but when the cafe door opened again, the bell ringing to announce a new customer’s entry, he jumped, accidentally hitting send. It wasn’t a total loss. After all, he hadn’t revealed anything bad, nor had he said anything suspicious. His location could not be tracked, he was sure of it, but his attention was drawn to the hero that just walked in.

Shouta Aizawa. An underground hero, more commonly known as Eraserhead. Unknown, for the most part, and homeroom teacher of the first years in UA. He should have known that more vigilante-esque heroes like him would frequent sketchy cafes like this one. Of course, there was no reason for him to suspect anything, as a teenager alone in a cafe with a laptop was far more likely to be a kid catching up on schoolwork than a brainstorming villain. With or without a quirk, Deku had the ability to type, so even if Eraser’s quirk was activated, it would have no bearing on his work ability.

He continued to type away, watching as the hero settled into a seat and ordered a cup of coffee. Doing nothing but watch would help his notes, yet that would make him suspicious.

Deku took a sip of his coffee, pulling up his notepad and adding a small note to file under ‘Eraserhead’ later.

Did not have to ask where to sit nor asked for a menu. Possibly frequents Canon Cafe.

It would not be wise to hack into any major systems with a hero just by him, so he brought up another document and added several things to look over later. Revealing a quirk in front of him would also not have been a good idea.

“Look over stuff for All Might,” he muttered under his breath. “Potential quirk malfunctions in smaller stature.” He paused for a moment. “Lost access to quirk? Potentially?”

He didn’t even notice himself speaking, a small thing that had been kept with him since elementary school, but it was always quiet enough that nobody knew what he had been saying. Apparently, heroes had better ears than he anticipated, and Eraserhead looked up, glancing at him carefully writing a list of potentials.

Deku noticed after a few more minutes, cautious red eyes trained on him and his laptop. He took a long sip from his drink, and set a few bills down to pay for it. Waiting around would definitely not be fun if he was suspected of anything. Eraserhead was one to trail those he found suspicious quietly, marking their habits before attacking. In a way, he was just like Deku. He needed a way out, and quickly. 

Sure enough, not long after he left the cafe, he heard footsteps behind him. His headphones were on, yet no music playing, so the hero would be confident that his already-quiet steps wouldn’t be heard. Deku couldn’t go back to the base, not with Eraser following him, but he could go back to his mother’s home. He still had a key, one that he kept on him always, and his mother wouldn’t be home at this time of evening. From tracking her schedule, he knew that she would be over at Kachaan’s house for the next hour and a bit, maybe longer if aunt Mitsuki had alcohol. On Fridays, she always headed over for dinner and to participate in their family nights. Friday used to be their special night, but he couldn’t find it in him to be jealous. It was he who made the choice to leave the safety and security of his home. 

And anyway, if Eraser tracked him there, he could have a chance to reach Kurogiri to pull him back to the base, and even if the house was broken into, there would be no trace of him ever being there.

He spent less than half an hour navigating the streets back home, very aware of the hero trailing a few dozen feet behind him. Every so often, he’d find himself pretending to jam out to a good beat, skipping for a moment and bopping his head. He felt stupid doing so, but the people around him didn’t seem to find anything wrong with his motions, so he figured it was alright.

The key went right into the door, to which he was glad. He was worried that the locks had been changed on him, and that would certainly be embarrassing and even more suspicious for Eraserhead. He shut the door softly behind him and, careful not to disturb anything, made his way to his room, away from the front door.

“Mom!” he called out, just to throw off suspicion if the hero was still outside. “I’m home! I have so much to tell you.”

His room door was shut, just as it had been when he left, and the inside was untouched, yet completely free of any dust. Clearly, his mom had been in here recently, dusting off his bed and shelves. If he disturbed anything, it wouldn’t be noticed.

His phone was lifted up, and Kurogiri quickly dialed.

“Hey, Kurogiri? Long story short, I’m in my old room. I need you to come get me.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there, Izumura.”

Notes:

This is a copy paste from a comment wondering about the cypher I used (with spoiler tags since I just learned how to do those)

Here's the answer to the code, with an explanation

In this case I figured that Izuku would need a cypher that he could come up with on the spot. I just took the alphabet and shifted all letters to the left (so the letter B would be written as C).

This cypher on its own is too easy to break, so what I did is I picked some letters that would stay the same while the rest of the letters switched. Since it’s supposed to be something that needs to stick in his head, he used what was on his mind, aka, “All Might”. So all the letters in the words All Might stay the same, while the rest of them shift over one.
So, letters ABC would be written as ACD, and so on.

To make it easier I’ll put the alphabet and then the changed alphabet:

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ
ACDEFJGHIKNLMOPQRSUTVWXYZB

See how some of the letters don’t change? In this case it’s A,G,H,I,L,M, and T

It’s overall a decently simple cypher but still difficult to decode. This allows for multiple people to easily remember it while it still being a secure way of transmitting messages, which is what he was going for.

The answer is ALL FOR ONE WILL INVADE UA

Edit 07/18/24: added a few small details/fixed errors

Chapter 4: Entrance Exam

Notes:

Yeah so I haven’t written this in a bit and I finally got the motivation to finally write this.

Anyways I’m gonna go study for finals cause I’ve been procrastinating that and writing this

Hope y’all enjoy as always!

The months passed in a daze. After several more close calls, Izumura started avoiding leaving the base as much as possible. Tomura did not press him to get out, nor did he seem averse to having him in the base 24/7. It made it easier to keep an eye on him if he stayed in his room all day. 

He was almost to the point where leaving his room was considered strange on its own, let alone leaving the base itself. Leaving, for more than just an hour, and asking Kurogiri to warp him to the city where the top hero school was? That was far too suspicious, but it wasn’t as if he had any other choice. The terms in his contract never said that he had to disclose his activities with them, either. If Tomura questioned it, he could always lie and explain that he was confirming some suspicions about the soon-to-be pros. That wasn’t entirely false, right?

Either way, he had to get going soon, or he would miss his time slot. Before he went, he had an appointment with someone who could temporarily change his appearance. Their quirk was promptly nicknamed Cinderella, apparently a widely sought after ability. It took quite a lot of his own savings to bribe them enough to keep quiet about him and to be available when he needed them to be, but he hopefully had them as an ally, for now. 

Izumura decided to avoid speaking to Kurogiri about it, and took the train instead a few cities over, where UA was located, as well as the quirk user he needed to speak with. His quirk was useful, but not always in situations like these where others would be much more preferred. Sometimes, he wished he'd asked All For One for something else.

Once he was back on the train, armed with a new face to keep himself hidden, he was on his way to the school. His phone beeped in his pocket, probably Tomura trying to contact him, but he ignored it, switching his phone off. If it really was urgent, All For One would be contacting him directly, and that was never pleasant. Having another person in his head was incredibly invasive, but at least he didn’t know enough about whatever quirk he was using to properly mess with his mind. If Deku was right about it, and he usually was, that quirk could be used to shine a light into the dark corners of his mind, the stuff that he didn’t reveal to the league under any circumstances. If he found that, there was no place Izumura could run.

Well, it wasn’t as if he could run anyway. Not from someone like that.

UA was relatively far away, so he settled in for the ride, pulling out headphones and connecting himself to the surface of the internet. Diving through the civilian’s phones around him was only fun for so long. Not many people actually led interesting lives, contrary to their own belief. The heroes, too, were only so fun after a while. 

The news appeared to be focusing on the recent ‘hero killer’ that had suddenly popped up in Japan. Izumura had been following his work, and rather enjoyed watching what he had been up to. Now there was someone interesting. Someone he could follow and keep up with. Even he had a hard time predicting the man’s next move. With the constant movement around Japan, it was difficult to accurately foretell where and when he would strike next.

The one time he had managed to pinpoint his next target, he had been ecstatic when headlines hit the paper the next day about that hero admitted to the hospital from a targeted attack.

Was it wrong that Izumura took pride in watching others be hurt? Was it morally incorrect for him to make a game out of going through his list of heroes and attempting to find who would be next on the chopping block?

Maybe, but he didn’t care. The hero killer wasn’t just any normal villain. He was cunning, intelligent, and hard to track. He meticulously planned out his targets, carefully tracked their movements, and made sure no one was around when he finally struck. Sometimes, their bodies wouldn’t be discovered for hours, and by then he was long gone, and the ‘hero’ dead. On the rare occasions he had been spotted, he had not engaged with those that appeared, and disappeared into the distance far before the police could ever arrive on the scene. His technique was practically flawless, the details Izumura could draw from the case files so minimal that after several months of attacks it would make the detectives cry. 

But Deku was no normal detective. What nobody else could solve, he could.

Painstakingly, he had plotted every appearance and even suspected appearances, and mapped out heroes that he would be likely to target. Even then, with few photos and a singular video taken of the hero killer, he had not been able to pinpoint much about him.

The little he had managed to gather, such as the name of the hero killer himself, Stain, wasn’t much use in looking for his next move. He had no phone, nothing physical that Deku could track unless he planted it himself, which was exceedingly dangerous and risky. This hero killer might be a villain, but that didn’t mean that he would play nicely with others like him. No matter what work Izumura did, it would all be for naught in Stain’s eyes. The only way to save society was to purge the false heroes. 

Well, maybe taking them down from the inside would be a little more fun.

The train slowed to a stop, and he got off, making his way to the open front gates of the hero school that had been his dream for years. It was a little hard to believe that here he was, about to test for exams with the hundreds of potential candidates for heroes. The majority of them would not be admitted, and forced to attend subpar hero schools without as much fame or recognition.

There were sixty open spots for the upcoming new year in the hero course. Less than sixty would be admitted from the practical and paper exams, while others would be accepted by recommendation, granting automatic entry into the school. He had no clue who would be on that list, which made him uneasy. They would not be selected for another week, in which scores would be analyzed, students would be accepted, and letters would be sent out. He could access that information when they started considering, but for now he was walking blind.

He didn’t like going in blind.

The candidates were all shuffled into a room, given number cards with their testing location, and seated. Izumura glanced around nervously, hoping that his disguise was working. He spotted Kachaan, vaguely arguing with a blue haired boy in a suit. He vaguely looked like Ingenium, though in a world of quirks, anything was possible. He hadn’t looked into the Iida family much, though now he was internally berating himself for not doing so. Ingenium had sixty five sidekicks, for heroes sake. Why hadn’t Deku looked into him more?

Present Mic, another hero, walked in to explain the rules of the practical exam, but Deku was hardly listening. He kept his gaze locked on Kachaan, carefully gauging his reaction. He didn’t seem particularly surprised at what the exam entailed, but then again, nothing seemed to faze him when they were in grade school together.

The zero point monster intrigued him, though. It didn’t seem like something the hero course would throw in on a whim. Villain fights in real life were always worth things, whether that be in the popularity rankings, hero rankings, or even just another tally on the long list of defeated crooks. Every achievement was worth something. That would be the bot he would target.

Izumura was well aware that he could shut down every robot in the exam area in a matter of seconds. The issue was proving to the heroes that he was the one doing it. He did not want to inadvertently connect Deku and Izumura, so his planning had to be meticulous and precise. One wrong move could put the heroes on his trail.

And if the two were linked, he supposed it didn’t matter much anyway. He had his ways of remaining undetected, and Deku had no direct criminal implications beyond what they could assume was his work. The only thing they had on him was that he hacked into hero systems to deliver information to heroes, and that he offered to sell villains’ information to them. It was enough to arrest him, yes, but not enough to hold him. They needed him. They wouldn’t just throw him in a jail cell to rot. His line of work was already dangerous enough. He didn’t particularly care if they figured him out.

Kachaan ended up being in his group, as well as the Iida kid from earlier. He got a chance to pull up a few files on his phone, as well as glance at a couple newspapers, confirming the kid as Ingenium’s brother. Very similar quirks too, if the engines coming out of his legs were anything to go by. Those would be very useful in this exam.

The gates swung open, releasing them into the arena. Instead of running to search for robots, Izumura made a beeline for the nearest building, pushing his way through the door and moving to hide away from the windows. He spotted a camera in the corner, and grinned under his mask. This would be easy.

He settled down against the wall, crossing his legs, sliding his phone in his hoodie pocket, trying to make a big show out of his quirk without revealing that he could do anything in the blink of an eye. At his stage of quirk development, he could process and analyze information nearly as fast as a computer could. It took far longer sometimes, if he was looking through a lot of information at once, but he had lots of practice under his belt now.

Linking to his phone, he simultaneously connected himself to the cameras in the room where the heroes were watching, and scanned through the monitors. They were watching him.

“He’s gone limp,” Ectoplasm said. “Could it be a medical emergency?”

Eraserhead, the very hero who nearly managed to track him back to the villains, responded. “No. That has to be something with his quirk.”

Deku suppressed a giggle, sick with glee, as he made several of the monitors go dark. Eraser eyed them cautiously, but continued to watch Izumura carefully, his eyes narrowing. He wasn’t concerned. After all, his face was completely different from the one the hero ran into at the cafe.

“Sorry about this,” his voice came through the speakers, warped and distinctly robotic. “But when’s that zero pointer going to appear? I want to make sure I shut it down with the rest of them before they're all deactivated.”

To their credit, the heroes hid their surprise well.

“Is this you, Izumura?” Eraser asked, leaning forwards in his chair.

“Who else could it be?” Deku responded playfully. “I mean with all the other flashy quirks out there, it makes something like mine not seem very special in comparison.”

His body moved, and he pulled himself back into his own mind, getting up and stretching. They would obviously be paying attention to him now.

“It’s been a good couple of minutes,” he announced, still unused to the way his voice warped into someone else’s due to the quirk currently in effect. “I might disqualify a couple people but I mean, I can save them from the ‘villains’. I don’t think I’ll stick around long enough for your zero pointer.” He inclined his head, briefly running through the code leading him to the bots. “Pretty flimsy security for those ones.”

With one tiny tug in the back of his mind, he pulled the plug.

Almost immediately, the sounds of the battle outside died off, replaced instead by confused chatter between the contestants. Deku had no idea how many robots he shut down, but it was well over half of them, and he wasn’t eager to count them and figure out his score. He had gotten his necessary score, and that was all that he cared about. Whatever other points that the zero pointer offered would just be added onto his first place score.

He gave a mock bow towards the camera, and made his way back outside, where he was greeted with the slumped over forms of dozens of the so-called battle bots that they trained on. Kids walked around, mildly confused at the sudden deactivation, some even kicking at the metal shell. Deku could have fried their circuits, but merely shutting them off also proved his point. It was also less expensive for them to replace as well.

“All the bots have been deactivated!” Present Mic called over the speakers. “Please make your way back to the entry point for the written exam!”

“Was this it?” one of the others complained. “We fight for two minutes and they shut the damn things off?”

“No,” Deku said quietly. “That was me.”

The kid seemed mildly surprised, but didn’t question it further, especially when his phone suddenly shut off and refused to turn back on. It wasn’t hard to do, and Deku enjoyed messing with people from time to time.

There was no direct interaction between heroes and students until after the written exam, which Deku was pretty sure he passed. The test was difficult, but with a stealthy quirk like his own, it helped him out on a couple difficult questions. He just had to be careful that none of the heroes noticed him freeze up while he entered cyberspace.

It was only when he was walking out of the school’s grounds that he was stopped by none other than Eraserhead himself, a forceful grip on his shoulder preventing him from leaving.

“We would like to have a couple words with you regarding the practical exam this morning.”

“I’ve got things to do,” he said coldly, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. “I don’t really have the time to sit and chat about how flimsy your encryption is.”

“It’s more than you know, Shigaraki. We would just need a few minutes to speak with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Deku said shortly, “but I completed the practical as I would have done had it been an actual villain fight.”

“Your skills seem on par with another hacker that we’ve seen. Tell me, have you ever heard of Deku?” Those red eyes were frightening, seemingly piercing into his soul.

Izumura shrugged, attempting to not appear bothered. “I’m assuming you think that’s me, so it wouldn’t even matter if I said no. I don’t know who you’re talking about. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have stuff to do.”

Without even taking a split second to debate his undoubtedly bad decision, he spun around, and strode towards the gate. Maybe the heroes had something they could offer him, much greater than a student position at a top hero school. Maybe, despite his age, they saw the potential that All For One did. Maybe, perhaps, they wanted him.

Well, he had made his choice years ago. They were only the latest ones to finally get it. He had zero interest in being a hero, he told himself firmly. It wouldn’t happen. 

Even so, that small spark of hope that lingered in his chest for the longest time developed a tiny flame.

Chapter 5: Death Threats and Videogames

Notes:

I'm gonna squeeze all the stuff thats going to happen into the tags now or I will forget it

His acceptance letter arrived in his mailbox only a week later. It didn’t surprise him that he was accepted, but some small part of him felt disappointed. Now, he would have to reveal it to the league where he would be during the day. If they contacted him during the day, he would be discovered and probably arrested, most likely before he could get a message to Kurogiri and tell him what was going on. As long as he had access to some device, he could get that message to him.

Kurogiri was a nomu as well, and that armor on his neck was also connected to All For One, and thus, to him. He discovered that little piece of information accidentally, temporarily gaining complete control of his mind. All For One told him not to do it again, and Deku didn’t, too shaky from the first attempt when he realized that he couldn’t pull himself away. If he really needed to though, he could get a message through Kurogiri, at the cost of leaving his body alone with the heroes. If he was lucky, they might think he had gone into shock or something and leave him in a hospital where he could easily escape once he returned. Unfortunately, Eraserhead knew his quirk, and he knew the signs. If he was with them, his ‘medical emergency’ might be ignored. Kurogiri would risk capture if they came to get him.

It was a little ironic, he thought, that the chief of security for the league was also the one getting into the most trouble, but hey. He needed to know what they were capable of, or at least that was his excuse. Either way, it would do him no good worrying about a situation that might happen, rather than one that will. He had to focus on the matter at hand, which was informing the league about what exactly he had been up to the past couple of weeks. Tomura would approve, right? He wouldn’t rage out and kill him immediately for associating with heroes?

Well. Not like he had much of a choice about telling them, anyway. If he died here, it wasn’t like he’d have many regrets.

He took in a deep breath as he pushed open the door to Tomura’s room. He could inform Kurogiri after he worried about the immediate threat. 

As expected, Tomura sat, feet crossed, on the end of his bed, gaming controller in his hands, staring at the TV opposite him. While Deku didn’t exactly recognize what was on the screen, he did know enough to realize that Tomura would kill him if he shut it off.

“What is it?” he grumbled, clicking one of the buttons to hit one of the creatures with a chainsaw. “I’m busy.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he confirmed. “What are you playing?”

“Doom Eternal. Wickedly difficult if you don’t know what you’re doing.” His character jumped, narrowly avoiding a fireball thrown in his direction. 

Deku raised an eyebrow. “Wicked, huh?”

He still didn’t look away from the screen, using his gun to bash in the head of some kind of zombie. “You don’t get to make fun of my language. Now what do you want? You’re distracting me. We can do this later.” He brought a hand up to scratch at his neck.

“Well I didn’t think that telling you later when I’m more likely to get myself killed would be a good idea, so no, this can’t wait until later.”

There was a pause. “I’m listening.”

Deku let out a heavy sigh. “Can you pause that or something? I’m seriously considering frying your console at this point.”

“You do that and you can kiss your precious life goodbye.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it precious, but sure.”

Tomura finally glanced his direction, not pausing the game but instead ducking his character behind the cover of some rocks. “Sit down or something. You’re weirding me out just standing there like that.

He made the decision to keep standing. “No thanks,” he said stiffly. “Rather not be closer to you, thanks.”

“Yeah, fuck you too Deku,” he returned, turning back to his game. The insult held little malice.

“I assumed you would have little issue with me spying on the heroes.”

The clicking of the controller ceased, and a pause message popped up. Tomura finally turned to face him. “I thought that was what you were already doing.” His voice was low and threatening. Deku tried his hardest to not step back.

“Some things can’t be said over the internet, Tomura,” he reminded. “In fact, now that they are aware of a hacker, UA will try to keep a lot of their important data in person. I figured I would scope the place out myself.”

“Oh.” He tilted his head, almost disappointed, and shook the shaggy blue hair out of his eyes. “Is that all? Almost thought you were going to say you’d betrayed us or something.”

“I applied to UA.”

The controller dropped onto the covers. Deku was half surprised that he didn’t immediately disintegrate it. “You did what now?”

“There was only one conceivable way in, and I took it. I don’t see why you’re so surprised that was the way I went with.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets to hide the slight tremble. “I get to know what they teach the hero wannabes, and I also get a chance to get into their systems. I just figured you would need to know where I was before one of you blew my cover and called me or something in the middle of class.”

That sat in silence for a few minutes, Deku becoming increasingly more anxious the more Tomura thought it over, fingertips pressed together and staring at the controller. If Deku’s answer was deemed unsatisfactory then it was all over.

“You report everything to me. All For One cannot know anything about this.”

Deku jolted back, surprised. “You won’t tell him? You’re not mad?”

“Oh I’m pissed,” he corrected. “You could have told me your plans beforehand when there was a better chance of me not killing you.” He picked up the controller with two fingers, mulling something over. “You’re doing this to get more information. That’s valuable intel, Deku. I’m not so ignorant that I don’t know you have other clients. You have more than the league enticing you to do this.”

“You will need the information, with All Might joining as a teacher,” Izumura supplied. “You want my help taking him down? Fine. I need to get inside his head, and this is the easiest way to do it.”

Tomura waved him off. “Fine, yeah, whatever. As long as he dies, I don’t care what you do. Not a word to All For One. He won’t approve of you sticking your neck out there.”

“He can’t keep me cooped up in here forever. I’m still young: have a whole life of messing with people ahead of me.” He shrugged, the tension lining his shoulders relaxing. “How do you play that?”

“Pretty simple. Want me to teach you?”

Deku contemplated the offer. “What’s in it for you?”

“Jesus Christ, just take the controller Izu. It would do me a lot of good to not have everyone around me be technologically fifty years behind me. Video games are the backbone of society: not playing them is a cardinal sin.”

“Yeah yeah,” Izumura grumbled, “stop with your bible bs and I’ll play with you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, attempting to get somewhat comfortable as Tomura messed with the controller in his hands. 

“I’m putting you on the tutorial first,” he said, depositing the controller in Izumura’s lap. “You’d die immediately on the level I was on.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Left trigger to fire the gun,” Tomura said, ignoring the sarcasm. “A to jump, and the joysticks move you around. If you get close to the zombies and they’re glowing blue, press the right joystick. You can glory kill them and get your health back. Don’t die, or I’ll have to kill you.” The glint in his eye gave him a slightly unhinged look. Maybe he wasn’t actually kidding.

As Tomura taught him to play, and Deku shot his way through the hordes of zombies, soldiers and imps, a thought struck him. 

Was this what having siblings was like?

Notes:

okay SO

I know nothing about video games so all this info came from a friend and I hope I wrote it right (gamers, feel free to correct me in the comments) but I'm sorta setting up a sibling relationship between the two because of video games. May need help with those so just plz let me know if I'm writing it okay :)

ALSO sorry this chapter is a bit short, I should be putting up some other things that I've finished and I've decided to try writing an ATLA fic just to see how that goes

Any other fandoms yall would like to see?

Chapter 6: Mission 001

Notes:

I really didn't expect this to take so long to get out. We're about to get into his vigilante/Stain supporter arc, so stay tuned for that!

And to my new readers, welcome! My work isn't beta read so I hope its alright

The days leading up to his first day ticked by with unbearable slowness. Maybe it was due to his scouting and frantic messaging with the principal, or maybe it was because he was much more on edge than normal, worried if All For One would realize what he had been up to. Tomura never said a word, nor did Kurogiri, but the acquisition of a few new, powerful members of their little group worried him.

With Nezu’s permission, he had been granted the ability to attend lessons virtually, without a camera. In order to make the principal trust him, he had to reveal more information than he was comfortable with, telling him that those he lived with had no information about his attendance at UA, and his current standing did not allow for him to properly engage in hero classes. As it was, his quirk was best suited for working behind the scenes, and in person training would not be as valuable as communication with his fellow heroes, monitoring their positions and warning them of any issues.

As far as Nezu believed, his voice was permanently warped by his quirk, sometimes dropping or shifting up an octave, with a computerized undertone and a permanent glitch that would make actively speaking difficult. As there was no other footage found of him speaking any other way, the principal was forced to accept it as truth, and agreed to make class accommodations for him. His teacher, Aizawa, did not seem as pleased with the arrangement, but instead seemed interested in his quirk and his abilities. Having already had a close call with Eraserhead, Deku knew that he needed to keep the hero at arm's length.

Carefully setting up his bedroom/office, he carefully slipped his headset over his head, adjusting his mic to distort his voice enough to match what he told Nezu to expect. All three of his monitors glowed with a soft green light, his room dark just as he liked it. Running a hand through his dark hair, unbrushed and messy, he worked his way through detangling it, as a way to calm the butterflies in his stomach. This first impression would be everything to him and the heroes, and whether they deemed him a threat or not.

His quirk was used to pull up camera footage from the hallway as well as the other cameras in the class, only needing to monitor the direct area. His location could not be traced, yet he pulled up the feed from the cameras he placed around the base to watch for potential intruders. One could never be too careful.

His procrastination done with, and all his necessary tools available to him, Deku logged into his classroom.

One of his monitors cut to a feed of the room, the students mingling in groups by the desks. The teacher had clearly not arrived yet, but the board at the front must have shown his icon as having logged in.

“Greetings!” One of the students turned to the board, looking directly at the discreet camera that was placed there. “I was told we would have an online classmate. My name is-”

“Tenya Iida,” Deku smoothly replied. “Sibling of Tensei Iida, pro hero Ingenium. I know who you are.”

Iida appeared surprised, but quickly composed himself. “You’ve clearly done your hero research! I commend you!”

But Deku’s attention had fallen to someone else in the room, sitting at one of the desks, glaring at the other students. 

Kachaan.

“And the others…” he scanned over the class. Most seemed average, little or no ties to real heroes. There was one, a blonde haired boy with a black lightning streak through his hair, that might have been related to a pro, but he would have to look into it further, which was something he didn’t want to do during this first class.

“Momo Yaoyorozu,” Deku said suddenly. “You have quite a few pro heroes in your family, don’t you?”

“Oh!” she said nervously. “Y-Yes, I do.”

“Recommendation as well. Impressive. I’ve heard those tests are quite difficult, but I’ve never looked into them. But I should have expected you to get in; I’ve followed your family quite a bit. And then of course I’m not surprised to see Shoto Todoroki in class.” Indeed, the young son of Endeavor was separated from the others, eyes downcast and avoiding his classmates.

“Why not?” he replied quietly. “Expected to see the top heroes’ kids in this class?”

“I expected to see some students with talent, yes,” Deku responded. “I see I was not disappointed.”

“And what do we call you?” Todoroki continued, his voice still soft. “Your icon doesn’t give us much information. How are we to trust you?” His eyes focused on the camera, and Deku muted himself for a moment to collect his thoughts. This one was smart.

“My name is Izumura Shigaraki,” he said shortly. “My quirk is not useful in person. I work best from behind the scenes. That is all you need to know.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “That doesn’t seem very trustworthy, Shigaraki.”

“It may not, but it is the truth.” He paused, quickly checking one of the security cameras just down the hall, making a mental note of checking the building’s schematics and figuring out where exactly the other cameras were located. “And I will warn you that your teacher is making his way down the hall. I would get to my seat. He’s known to be quite strict.”

With that, he muted himself, deciding to pull out his notepad to take physical notes for himself to reference later. Todoroki would be more of a problem than anticipated, if Deku ever went public and the new hero students were informed of his activities. The others would be little issue, as his first impression of them did not peak his interest. Kachaan was also smarter than he let on, and he could potentially be an issue as well.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing. Damn those two.

True to his word, Aizawa arrived only moments later, wrapped in a yellow sleeping bag that he then deposited behind the podium at the front of the room. Initially, he didn’t give much notice to Deku, ignoring him in favor of disciplining the class. He listened in silence, almost smiling at his clear passion in making these kids into proper, well tuned heroes. Eraserhead was a pain, but he was an excellent teacher. His students might actually turn out to be true heroes. Maybe Stain should be informed of this. He was musing over that thought when his teacher’s attention turned to him.

“Shigaraki. I will be taking the class outside to run some tests on their physical capabilities. Had you not gotten special permission from the principal, I would have expelled you out of my class immediately.”

“Good to know my impression has been good enough,” Deku snarked. “It’s good to finally meet you, sensei.”

“Polite language will get you nowhere. I hope that you will be able to properly engage with our lesson plan. I will not be directly catering to you, and Nezu has assured me that you will be able to keep up.”

“I’ll be watching,” he promised. “During training exercises I ask that you supply my classmates with earpieces, as they would have in the field. I can speak with multiple people at once, as my quirk allows.” True, he could watch from cameras, but this seemed to be interesting. It definitely would take the rest of the day. He certainly had the time to get over to UA, provided that Kurogiri trusted him enough, and he could get his gear on before they discovered him absent from their discussion.

Quickly muting himself, he set his headset on the desk, replacing it with a small earpiece and mic that was used in theater production, one that he had modified to suit his quirk’s needs. His suit was custom, based on his very first hero costume design, with some slight modifications to allow for his hacker lifestyle. It wasn’t very cold out, so he pointedly ignored the hoodie that had been made to sit on top of the suit if the chill got to be too much. His laptop was quickly grabbed, just in case, even though all he really needed was his phone to get into any system. However, if it ever got to the point where he couldn’t rely on his quirk, he needed something easy to work with.

The utility belt was clipped around his waist, a special case built into the back where he could store his laptop, small pockets available for cords and flashdrives, which were loaded with data about pro heroes should he ever need it. After all, he knew a lot, but there were far too many heroes in Japan alone for him to memorize, let alone others from across the world. If he could get that information to his laptop, he could then use his quirk to access what he needed to in the blink of an eye.

Unfortunately, when browsing the internet with his quirk, he couldn’t access it as quickly as he could his own information, which was painstakingly organized due to his own mental pathways and the conclusions that he knew he’d draw. Things online were not always tagged with the information he needed, yet he had tagged a few useful places in cyberspace to help him find things faster. Even though time worked differently in his little computer world, it still left his body vulnerable for potentially hours at a time while he was working on his research. 

The rest of the costume was made mostly for mobility, a few self defense things built into the gloves to enhance his chances of getting away in a fistfight. Tasers, small electric charges in the metal studs on his knuckles, activated with the push of a button, would stun the person he was fighting long enough for him to run. His mask was a simple rabbit mask covering his entire face, the ears hiding sensors to detect motion nearby, bonded there by a quirk he didn’t quite understand, a hood over his head to hide his hair and the earpiece. A small heads up display let him keep certain files in front of his eyes, the sensors giving him their readings as he moved around. He paid a fortune for it, but it was worth it in every way.

Leaving the base was simple as usual, simply walking past Kurogiri and the shut door to Tomura’s room. He armed the alarms, set to alert him to anyone entering or leaving the place, before returning inside.

“Can you transport me to just outside UA? There’s an outside class that I need to observe in person. The cameras aren’t as extensive there, so I’ll need to plant some more while I’m out.” His mask didn’t have a voice changer, but Deku didn’t need one. Only Izumura needed a way to conceal his voice during school hours.

In his belt, he had a few other items that might help him, each simulating very useful quirks so that he could work on his own the majority of the time, without relying on any of the villains to support him. With any luck, people would assume him to be a hero at first glance, and he could work undetected until a real hero showed up to stop him. He did also have some small, portable cameras that he could hide if need be, but they weren’t meant for long term exposure.

“Report your findings to Shigaraki after you return,” Kurogiri reminded him. 

Deku waved him off. “I’m just looking into the hero students a bit. Nothing he needs to know about, I just need to understand how much of a threat they’d be. Can you open a warp gate?”

Kurogiri nodded. “Good luck on your mission, Izumura.”

The gate was opened, and Deku gripped his phone tightly in a gloved hand. “Thanks. I’ll call you in a few hours.” 

He appeared just outside the wall of UA. Walking through the gate or climbing over the wall would be easy enough, but he assumed that they might be within his visibility, as he was nearby the USJ, their indoor training facility. On the wall, he could stay mostly hidden, and vanish into the forest outside if he was spotted. 

It took far too long for him to find their location close enough to the wall for him to watch, zooming in using his heads up display to watch them from the top of the wall. His earpiece fed audio right into his ears, allowing him to properly take in the situation.

The tests were basic, definitely just a baseline for Aizawa to get to know their quirks, but Deku was learning all the same. Most had useful abilities, if trained correctly and honed to the level they needed to be for hero work. He was so absorbed in watching the students that he didn’t notice the small figure approaching him, his sensors sending warnings into his vision.

“My, I didn’t expect someone spying already on our first day!”

Deku jumped, hand immediately going behind his back, where he had stashed a small knife behind his laptop. Sure enough, Nezu, the principal himself, was watching him carefully, tail swishing from side to side. If only he could get his knife without being noticed…

“I don’t suppose you'd tell me your name? It’s only polite, you know.”

Somehow, the tone of voice made him want to respond. Maybe it was his manners, unexpected after so long with villains, or maybe it was something about his small stature that made Deku more inclined to speak.

He cocked his head to the side. “They call me Deku.”

Chapter 7: Rise of a Hero

Notes:

May or may not have forgotten that some plot points exist.
SO
This chapter is a bit short so I can figure out how to incorporate some things
Hope to upload something else soon!

Edit 3/13/25 for clarity and fixing some pacing issues

Nezu brought his paws in front of his stomach. “I see. You must have been the one digging into our teacher records. I was surprised to see very little I could trace back.”

Izuku nodded, inclining his head slightly. “I’m glad that you know my signature, Nezu. But I’m not here for teacher records this time.”

The principal nodded. “You’re quite interested in the students, yes?”

Trying to stay calm, he continued on, risking looking away and back to the class. “The one I want isn’t here. I don't believe you transferred him to 1-B, so I would like to know where he is while you’re here.”

“Shigaraki Izumura, I believe?” Nezu shook his head. “No, you will not find him here. Our records say nothing of him being a virtual learner, do they? I suppose his quirk is a match for you, then.”

“If they were updated today, I have yet to check. Now are you going to try and stall for the teachers to arrive or can I just kill you?” To emphasize his point, he stood, yanking out his knife. It wasn’t much, but neither was the principal. The animal would be dead before any pros could arrive. Brain didn’t do much against so large of a physical difference.

“It was a nice attempt, but physical violence isn’t your style. I believe we both know that, Deku,” Nezu said calmly. “I’ve never even heard of you setting a villain on a hero before, but there are plenty of villain attacks where you have alerted heroes in the vicinity, before anyone could get there first.”

Izuku dropped down to the ground, inside UA’s walls, where he could reach the principal. He hefted his knife. “Maybe I have. So what does that matter?”

“You don't want to see people hurt, Deku. We both know this.”

The rat was an educator first, and a hero second. While he may know teenage behavior, Izuku was no ordinary hero student. Even as smart as he was, emotions and behavior could scarcely be predicted so accurately. You couldn’t psychoanalyze a person who many believed didn’t exist.

He took a small step forward, hoping that he at least appeared confident, at best mildly threatening. “I don’t want anything in particular. I just do what my clients want.”

Nezu just calmly held out his paw. “We both know you wouldn’t be here in person if that was all you wanted. Come with me. We can talk about this. I can even pay you for your time.”

That was what he was looking for. Izuku took a step backwards, setting a hand back on the wall. His climbing gear was still on, so he could scale the wall relatively easily. “You just want to arrest me,” he said. “I know your type. Lure people in with false promises and sweet lies, then let them down when they need you most. I won’t fall for it. You heroes are all the same; for that you should be purged.” He turned away to scale the wall. When he turned back, he saw Nezu just shaking his head. Izuku quickly looked away so that he’d give the impression of disinterest.

“It’s really a pity I couldn’t change your mind. Will you be back?”

“If you have the money, I will be. You know how to reach me. What information do you want, Nezu?”

He was turned away now, looking off into the forest. Still, he had his hand on his knife, and was ready to jump off the wall when the situation called for it.

“Why must you assume that everyone only wants something from you?” The principal;s voice was soft and mournful now. 

For only a moment, Deku let himself believe that the hero cared. Water began to well up in his eyes, so unused to how delicately they were speaking to him. Even if it was from an animal, a genetic abnormality, he didn’t realize words could sound so sad.

No. That’s enough. They’re a hero. They will stab you in the back if given the chance.

Shaking off the sudden swell of emotion, he forced his thoughts down behind a carefully crafted icy exterior. “That’s how the world works, principal. It always has.”

Carefully, he jumped down to the ground, swiftly taking off into the forest. On complete impulse, he dropped one of his flashdrives into the dirt. He had wasted too much time already, but maybe what he downloaded onto it would be enough to convince them to leave him alone. It was nothing too precious, worth, at least, not much to him, but it might be valuable for them if they knew what kind of information he was collecting. They still knew nothing about him, and he was going to keep it that way, whether they worked with him or not. 

There were no footsteps behind him, but still he ran like a rabbit through the trees. He stopped every couple of minutes to check UA’s camera system, which seemed to have a backdoor that he wasn’t foolish enough to believe Nezu didn’t leave open for him.. He even broke into hero comms, but there was no chatter about his appearance. It seemed that Nezu hadn’t mentioned anything, nor even told the teachers. Could he really trust the principal?

His first instinct told him of course not. Heroes existed to protect civilians, yes, but nothing more. The moment they encountered someone else, someone without any extraordinary talents, they cast them aside as if they were worth less than the dirt they walked on. Not one hero would risk their life to knowingly rescue a quirkless kid.

Deku knew that. For a while, at least, he was okay with it. He bought into the belief that he really was useless, that his life had no meaning, and that he would be better off dead than in a world where nobody wanted him. There was a time, just before the league, right when his mother first fell ill, that he might have jumped off the roof. He might have actually been another victim of hero society.

Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. It was concerning how a conversation with a hero, just one that was even the slightest bit kind to him, was able to shake the foundations of his entire moral code. They were barely even a hero! Just a mutated rat who happened to have the intelligence of a human.

Or was he a bear? Nobody really could tell.

Either way, as he made his journey back into town, walking through the high vigilante traffic areas, he made sure to watch his back, check that he hadn’t been followed, and make sure no tracers were planted on him. Nezu was far smarter than he was, after all, but if Deku didn’t want to be found, he couldn't be. There was nothing to worry about.

Unless Nezu connected Deku to Izumura. That would be…far more than just a small issue.

But, for now, as Deku traversed his way through the dark alleys and short tunnels that kept people who were hiding from the law undetected, he decided to check his phone for any potential messages from clients.

Unsurprisingly, there was one waiting for him.

Come back to UA for a chat. It might be worth your while.

Of course, Deku responded immediately. I’m not interested in becoming a hero, Nezu.

Not hero work. You have some skills that I’m interested in. I can pay you 100 thousand yen for the first meeting. An hour is all I ask for.

Somehow, he found himself considering it.

When do you want me there?

As soon as is convenient. I will be waiting.

His phone rang as he was messaging back and forth with the principal, so he picked it up. The caller ID was from Kurogiri, anyway.

“You’ve been out for several hours already, Izumura,” he began, worried as always. “Is everything alright?”

Jumping over a couple trash bins, Deku made one last check behind him. 

“I’m good, Kurogiri. Going to head to that vigilante cafe I discovered a few weeks back. They’re quiet about their customers, so I’m not too worried about being discovered. That being said, I’ll send you the address to the place so you can warp me out if things get dicey.”

There was a loud, heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “And you’re sure I can't change your mind?”

“I’m sure. It’s called Airway, if you’re wondering. They take privacy to the extremes there, so you shouldn’t worry about being discovered. I’ll give you a call as soon as I get what I need.”

“The raid’s in two days,” he heard Tomura scowl. “Don’t get caught and blow the whole thing.”

“Chill, Shigaraki,” Deku said, brushing past the wire fence that led to the cafe. “I’ll be careful. There's someone who might be here, anyway. They can give me some good intel.”

“Just don’t get caught.” There was a small click, and Kurogiri hung up. Deku would have turned his phone off, but access to his quirk was imperative in a situation like this.

Right before he entered the cafe, he shot a quick message to the one person he might be able to trust.

Detective Tsukauchi. If you would like to speak, I am in Musutafu. You know where.

Chapter 8: You're That Kid

Notes:

Edit on March 10, 2025 adding some minor details and changing a few lines

Upon entering the cafe, Deku was immediately prompted by the greeter at the door to keep his mask on at all times, even providing him with another should he need to take his off for any reason. They asked for his name and, unbothered, he gave it. This place had strict rules on the identities of their customers, creating a safe environment where villains, heroes, vigilantes and cops could all gather in relative peace to exchange information without worrying about their identities. Most heroes came in recognizable clothing, usually their hero costumes, unless they had something to hide. Villains almost always came in disguise, masquerading as another villain or going by a different name. Police came in normal clothes, simple full face masks concealing them. Vigilantes, though, had little to worry about. Most were unknown, and those that were had powerful enough abilities to keep themselves safe. Nobody revealed civilian identities, anyway.

He was unknown, at least in person. Virtually, he was well known. In fact, he didn’t doubt that everyone there had at least heard of him. Should they hear his name, some might even leave, concerned about him digging into their personal information. His online identity was omnipotent, an online god. Those who knew of him were afraid. 

He could ruin their life, should he want to. Everyone had skeletons in their closets, him especially. But there was no fun in that.

“There might be someone arriving to meet with me,” he told the staff. “I’d like to be put somewhere private, if you don’t mind.” He crossed his arms, slightly inclining his head in the direction of the cafe’s other patrons. “Things may get interesting.”

They led him to a small corner of the place, enclosed by glass walls, completely sound-isolated from the rest of the cafe. 

Usually, Izuku is ignored. When he was out and about in regular clothes, people scarcely noticed he was there. The markings on his suit, though, now drew attention to him. Indeed, the rabbit mask must have only cemented some of their thoughts, as he did hear mumbled words of “hacker” and “didn’t exist”. He’d used a similar mask design as his profile picture, and a logo left behind in files that he wanted the police to know he accessed.

So it was true. Most of them chose to believe that he didn’t exist, rather brushing him off as some kind of urban legend. “Don’t act out or Deku’ll find ya.” That must have been what they were whispering about, casting shady glances in his direction.

In response, he raised his head high, the piercing green eyes of his mask turning to stare at them in turn. His stature might not be intimidating–he was somewhat scrawny, in fact–but that didn’t change how these people perceived him. Bulky or no, he had enough enformation and too many ways to access it, and that was enough to scare most of them.

Deku had always been self conscious, and that didn’t change now. Here, though, with a mask to hide behind and a reputation to uphold, there was no option to show weakness or embarrassment. Instead of what he’d usually do; shrinking into himself, tensing, waiting for someone to hit him, he brought his shoulders back, carrying himself with as much confidence as he could muster. His hood was still over his head, which was good, hiding his identity further. They could barely see an inch of skin.

He sat for over half an hour in the small room, his laptop open in front of him, waiting. The detective had given no sign that he had even seen the message, but Deku had done his research. There was little chance he hadn’t, and even the police were aware of this place. Tsukauchi would have known exactly what he was talking about.

At some point, he pushed his mask to the side, his hood still covering the majority of his face and his back to the glass, breathing easier now that he didn’t have something over his nose and mouth. Say what you will about anonymity, but wearing a mask when he was alone seemed pointless.

Still, though, he wouldn’t be Deku without his usual level of paranoia. Using the cafe’s internet, he hacked into their camera feed, which most people didn’t realize they had. The hidden devices were planted all around the outside of the building, but none inside to protect secrecy. The cafe’s owners had a good standing with all of the city’s villains and vigilante groups; breaching that trust would be a declaration of war.

One of his sensors beeped, and a familiar trench coat swept into frame. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he watched someone enter the cafe, carefully sliding the mask back over his face. It took only a minute longer before the glass door was pulled open.

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re Deku, I take it?”

He breathed out, trying to calm the sudden eruption of butterflies in his stomach. “Yes, I am.” His voice changer was working properly, as it had been, but it didn’t prevent him from worrying. At some points, he sounded like a woman, others like a man, but for the majority of his sentences, it came out distinctly robotic in nature. It was intimidating, and he designed it exactly for that reason.

“Why meet with me now, after ignoring my attempts to contact you?” Tsukauchi moved away from the door, and shifted into Deku’s field of view. The door clicked shut behind him. “You’re a hard person to read.”

“I have to be, to protect myself,” he answered, lifting his head up from his laptop. “My line of work leaves me vulnerable to attack. From all parties.” He gestured at a chair. “Go on now, sit down. I don’t bite.”

The detective did so, placing his briefcase down on the ground. “Forgive me for being a little cautious.”

“I take no offense,” Izuku replied easily. “For your question, I thought you’d have information for me, since you are quite easy to read.”

Tsukauchi set his arms on the table. There were no weapons, at least not at first glance. Izuku had no doubt there was a gun hidden under his coat. “The heroes would have no reason to attack you had you not sold their information to villains.”

“And they left me no choice but to do so,” Deku said plainly. “I needed money to survive, as everybody else does. I offered my services, at first, but they refused me. After all,” he turned back to his laptop, an idea popping into his head, “Quirkless people have no place in this society.”

The detective paused. Izuku knew his quirk was ringing truth. “I wasn’t aware you were quirkless.”

Deku glanced back up. “Of course not. Nobody expects the hacker Deku to be naturally quirkless.” He leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on one of his hands, gesturing with the other. “They think my skill comes from something born to me. No. I simply worked hard enough to be useful to this cursed society that decided I was worthless because I don’t have a natural-born talent.”

Tsukauchi, it seemed, didn’t have anything to say to that.

“My cards are on the table, detective,” he continued. “I have no physical way to defend myself, yet I have others who are willing to protect me. You know several people who I’ve had contact with, and you also know that my skills are invaluable to you. So I will ask you.” He leaned forward, bringing his other hand under his chin. “What do you want from me?”

Still, the detective seemed reluctant to respond. “You’ve read my emails, yes?”

“Just the first one I responded to.” He took the opportunity to lean back in his chair, hoping he gave off a confident air. “Didn’t think you’d get your hopes up if I didn’t reply.”

“While correct, there are a few things that we think you might have an interest in.” Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled out several manilla envelopes, setting them down on the table carefully. “Take a look at these. For obvious reasons, you are unable to take these with you, but I hope that you might be able to make some sense of them.”

Izuku smiled. “You’re doing this off the books, aren’t you?”

Tsukauchi didn’t even blink. “You of all people would know that.”

Cautiously, Deku reached out and slid the top file towards him, opening it to reveal a couple pages of information. This one was about a drug named Trigger that had recently been exposed to the general public, most notably small-time criminals and thugs. It wasn’t just coming from one source either; evidently, the police hadn’t managed to trace it.

“Trigger…” he mused aloud. “My…comrades don’t exactly approve of this drug. It causes chaos, but the user lacks the necessary control to make it effective. We don’t necessarily want it off the streets, but-”

“I don’t care about whoever you’re working with,” Tsukauchi interrupted. “I just want to know what you want. Not whatever they do.”

Taken aback, Deku sat up a little straighter. “Why would that not be what I think?”

“Because you don’t seem like that kind of person, Deku,” he replied, not unkindly. “You’re hard to read, but I can tell this: you don’t want people hurt. You constantly send heroes to the scenes of violent crimes, your prices are lowered for heroes looking into physical abuse cases, and despite your affiliations, you don’t strike me as a villain. So,” he leaned in closer, “what do you want?”

Damn. He was smart, which was exactly why Deku chose to meet with him instead of any other detective, but it worked against him as well. This detective had researched him extensively, probably combed every encounter with the heroes and the few recorded traces from captured villains.

“I want a reformed society,” Deku said shortly. “I want proper heroes protecting everyone, and I do mean everyone. There are very few in this world who are too far gone.”

“Like yourself?” Tsukauchi asked quietly.

“Like myself.” He turned his attention back to the file. “Anyway, that's not the topic at hand.”

“It’s relevant.”

“How so?”

Another one of the folders suddenly slid to a stop next to his laptop. Overcome by curiosity, he picked it up, examining the small printed words on the outside of the envelope.

Missing Quirkless Child

“This may be something you would want to look into,” the detective nudged gently. “After all, you’re Midoriya, aren’t you?”

Deku paused, and took a long breath in and out. The detective’s quirk would give him the truth regardless of what he said.

“I was.” He turned back to his laptop, opening a new file to take notes. “I hope you realize that I’ll get all this information later.”

Clearly recognizing that he wanted nothing to do with the previous line of conversation, the detective didn’t object to the change in subject. “I assumed as much. But it's better that I speak with you in person regarding this anyway, Midoriya.”

“Midoriya died years ago,” Deku said sharply, his whole body tensing up. “I would appreciate it if you refrain from calling me that.” 

The man raised his hands placatingly. “Alright. Deku it is, then.”

“I will go back to my earlier question, detective.” Deku looked back up. “What do you want from me? And what do I get out of it?”

“A place to go,” Tsukauchi said simply. When Deku didn’t reply, he continued on. “By speaking with you now and from the little contact we have with you, you don’t seem much like a person who is doing all of this for fun. You toy with people, yes, but not necessarily in harmful ways. Your contacts seem to mostly be villains, or those who operate outside of the realm of the law, because they are the ones most likely to buy your talents. You also seem to have found a place to camp out without leaving any kind of trace of your whereabouts. I think you’re part of a villain’s group, would I be correct in saying that?”

Deku’s mouth went dry. He had nothing to say. “I-”

“And not only that, but they have something on you that doesn’t let you leave. I don’t know what it is, but you are locked in a bad situation, Deku, and we both know that turning to police or heroes for help would only get you arrested, potentially even killed if the villains you work with are powerful enough, which I don’t doubt. Frankly put, Izuku, you have no options.”

“So why tell me things I already know?” Deku was raising his voice now, standing up and slamming his palms on the table. This was not going the direction he wanted it to. “So what? I threw my life away because I needed to, and I already had no other options. At least now I actually have a chance to live instead of wondering when my next meal would be or if my mother would die!” He picked his hands back up, letting his fingertips rest lightly on the edge of the table. 

Calm yourself. Deku took a deep breath in.“As far as I’m concerned, I have plenty more options now than I ever used to.”

“I’m saying that villainy doesn’t have to be your only option,” the detective said calmly. “Work with me. I am friends with several top heroes, I’m sure we could-”

“I know exactly who you’re friends with,” Deku spat, curling his hands into fists. “And All Might is one of the worst heroes I’ve ever met. He won't help a quirkless kid, much less a villain.” Backing away, he crossed his arms protectively over his chest. “You offer me protection. I already have that, and mine is worth much more than yours will ever be.”

“Deku,” Tsukauchi tried to reason, “they will kill you. You can’t live like this.”

“I’ll look into your damn cases,” he promised, barely concealed anger underlying his voice despite how much the device warped his speaking. “I’ll work with you, and you alone. If you try to bring All Might into this, you can kiss whatever supposed alliance you have with me goodbye. Good day, detective.”

He seized his laptop, slammed the cover shut, and hugged it to his chest. “I will contact you when I have the information. Until then, leave me alone.” The door was thrown open, and he was about to step out when Tsukauchi spoke up behind him.

“Your mother misses you.”

That gave him pause, but only for a moment.

“I know.”

He stepped away, ignoring the looks from the rest of the people sitting in the cafe, and made his way out the door. The conversation had been a mistake.

Finding a place to hide wasn’t difficult, but what surprised him the most was when he pushed his mask to the side, and found that tears were steadily streaming down his face, collecting in droplets on his chin. Why now? Why, when he hadn’t cried in years, was this getting to him so badly?

“She’s fine,” he told himself. “Mom is fine. It's better that I stay away from her.”

Telling the detective who he was had been such a mistake. Because of that one, small conversation, now his entire world view was turning itself on its head. 

“You’re a hacker,” he reminded himself, frantically trying to wipe away his tears. “You’re a mercenary. You can’t ever be a hero.”

Then why was his heart telling him otherwise?

Notes:

WOOOO DEKU FINALLY GETTING HIS "I DONT KNOW WHATS GOING ON" ARC

Not beta read but when is my stuff ever

Chapter 9: A New Mentor

Notes:

Sorry about the wait! I got major writers block on this story but I should be okay now and ready to write!

Returning to the base weighed on him heavier than usual, almost dragging his feet back through alleys and deserted streets. Most heroes avoided the area, though those that didn’t he managed to redirect elsewhere. He was far too tired to even attempt a fight if one of them caught him now. Somehow, his last conversation had completely and utterly drained him, both mentally and physically. He suspected, though, that his tears had worn him out more than he would have otherwise expected.

He finally stumbled indoors around midnight, much longer than it should have taken him to return. Despite the hour, Kurogiri was awake, sweeping the same area that Deku swore he cleaned five times a day. Clearly sensing his fatigue, he did not comment, and allowed Deku to retreat to his room, passing past the closed door to Tomura’s bedroom.

Once in his office, the door shut securely behind him, he sagged against the wall, like a puppet who had lost its strings, before collapsing in the chair at his desk. That conversation had been a total mistake, but the damn detective had a truth quirk! He couldn’t have actually lied to him in a situation like that! He was just barely lucky enough to not be lying about having a “natural born talent.”

Taking a deep breath, Deku turned on his monitors. If anything, his work would give him some distraction, and there were some emails that he hadn’t responded to, anyway. Maybe some new clients, some other people, would want information, hopefully some that he had already obtained. If not, he could find it on his own.

And, as if to counter the detective’s words, he wanted people in his corner who could fight for him, if necessary.

His standard, green icon appeared on his screen, a small loading bar appearing underneath it and disappearing just as quickly. As he thought, there were several messages that he hadn’t read. Some might’ve been from heroes, and others were from villains doubting his credibility but wanting his work all the same, but one above all the others stood out to him.

This one was from a user named Originat0r.

I’m not going to start with flattery, as you’ve shown time and time again that it doesn’t work on you. 

I’m looking for information on high-ranking heroes. I will take as much as I can afford, if your prices are low enough. I need family life, relatives, anything else you can give me. They need to go down, as I’m sure you would agree. Others, lower ranking with information more readily available, I can get on my own time, but the top heroes are the worst of them.

I hope we have a deal, Deku. I would rather start the reformation of society sooner rather than later, when the ‘heroes’ run it into the ground.

I’m certain you’ve at least heard of me, so I’ll leave it up to you. I will be in Musutafu for three days. You have until then, if you want to meet in person.

The email was sent yesterday, so he still had time.

Alright, Hero Killer. Don’t bother telling me where. I’ll find you.

There was no response, which he expected, finding himself back on the rooftops of Musutafu for the second time that week. His phone was pulled up in front of him, flipping through camera screens as fast as his brain could process them. Stain knew him, and probably knew his talents, too. Remaining near an open security cam was risky, but it would make it easy for Deku to find.

On the other hand, if he knew Stain, and he did quite well, the man would want to test his own abilities before meeting with him directly. If Deku could track him down, only then would he be worthy of notice. Even if he had reached out directly, he needed proof. After all, there were a lot of Deku copycats out there.

Of course, Deku was more than willing to show off a little.

In one of his cameras, he caught a bit of unnatural movement, like someone hiding. There. That was his target.

Contrary to popular belief, Deku was actually pretty athletic, even managing a building jump once or twice on his own, most with the assistance of his tactical gear. The hero killer generally avoided the streets, unless he was hero hunting. This camera was placed pretty high up on a rooftop, so it seemed as if Stain was looking for him, as well. 

He hadn’t expected Stain to be as out in the open, but if he was more inclined to get caught, that was his decision. 

Now, Deku himself was extremely careful. Of his two years properly active, only the last couple months had he deemed the risk worth enough to venture outside of his office, outside with the real villains, where the real threat was. After all, nobody would take Deku seriously if his threats couldn’t be followed through.

The one group that tried to screw him over knew that readily enough.

Instead of continuing on, he perched on top of a rooftop, adjusting his mask and double checking the sensors, patiently running through a few small tests. Here was close enough. All he had to do was wait.

“Your skills are better than I expected.”

“Greetings to you as well, hero killer.” He stood, a hand going to his belt, but did not turn around. “I suppose now is when we make the deal. No falling short, I will warn you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Deku. Your goals align with mine. It is in our best interests to work together.”

Deku twirled the flashdrive in between his fingers, turning to face Stain, lowering the phone to his side. “So, a partnership?”

The hero killer gave a slight nod. “Though I have a feeling that just a partnership won't satisfy your curiosity.”

“You assume correctly.” People often told Deku that he had a very eloquent way of speaking, should he ever meet in person. It was unbecoming of a villain, or so they claimed. He simply considered it as part of the flair, part of the fun. More people expected a thug to be a villain than a soft spoken, educated teenager.

He did not elaborate, nor did Stain prompt him to. Instead, the hero killer commented, “This place is far too open. We should not be out like this. Especially not you.”

Raising his head high, Deku stared back into red eyes. “I think I can handle myself quite well, thank you.”

“If that were the case, you would be out a lot more often, Deku.” Stain still gestured away from the rooftop. “I do not enjoy hiding out inside buildings, but you picked this place well. There are nothing but abandoned apartments underneath our feet.”

Drawing his knife to fiddle with something other than the taunting flashdrive, Deku stared out across the city, keeping the phone easy to reach should he need to use his quirk. “I need to know the best places to hide, one vigilante to another. Police would be all too eager to have our heads if we were caught.”

In response, the hero killer strode over to the edge of the roof, looking down over the alleyway below. Deku waited, and the man jumped. Below, he could hear the clatter of a fire escape as Stain landed, and followed him only after a short moment of consideration. If he landed wrong, after all, a broken ankle could mean death if he was caught. Though, he refused to let his own resolve be questioned.

“I almost didn’t think you would go for the jump,” Stain told him once they were both securely on the ground, sliding one of his own knives away. “Hacker types don’t exactly have much in the…physical physique.”

“Wow,” Deku grumbled. “Really laying on the flattery, yeah?”

“I meant it. You impress me.”

Izumura could feel his cheeks start to warm, so he hastily changed the subject. “Regardless. What information are you looking for?”

This conversation, though helpful in the long run, was starting to grate on his nerves just the tiniest bit. Most of his talks with people were not in a verbal dance, skillfully trying to pry as much information out of the other person as possible. Quite simply, everything about them told him what he wanted to know, things that he was quickly able to put into his notes to be sold a bit later. Stain knew his most common tricks, something he hadn’t quite anticipated when facing a villain who rarely spoke to others, as far as his knowledge went.

“Do you catalog information on violent offenders?”

Deku nodded. “I keep my information quite well organized. If it’s something you’re looking for, I offer broad information on heroes, unless you’re looking for specifics.” This really was infuriating. Without specifics, he would not be able to satisfy the client. Rarely would this turn out well until he started pressing for information.

“I’m looking into Endeavor.”

“Oh? A bold choice. I didn’t realize killing top heroes was your style.” 

Scowling, Stain turned away. “It’s not. Not yet. He is far too well protected to get through on my own. Maybe, should I have an army, but it is not his time yet.” Almost angrily, he kicked at a small rock on the ground. “Jeanist and Hawks, for now, are fine. I can live with those false heroes while the others fall.”

“So. You propose a partnership, then refuse to tell me the information you’re after?”

“Implying certain heroes would imply cities, Deku. I choose not to be tracked that easily.” He lowered his hand, where it had been resting on the hilt of one of his hands, reaching into a pocket. Deku watched him with careful eyes, ready to contact Kurogiri should the time call for it, his hand resting lightly on the screen of his phone. 

“I have here a list. Open it when you return to your base. For now, I will take the general information on your definition of the worst heroes.” He threw the pocketbook to Deku, who caught it smoothly. The flashdrive that he had been throwing up and down was caught and also tossed to the hero killer. 

“I’ll look into it.”

The hero killer raised an eyebrow. “I was expecting you to ask for payment.”

“I’ve already been paid.” He raised the pocketbook, slowly flipping through it. “You take notes too, Chizome Akaguro.”

The man froze. “You are more dangerous than I anticipated.”

“People tend to underestimate me. That’s what makes me effective.”

Nodding slowly, a deep chuckle escaped Stain. “I should have known. Well then, Deku, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

“Izumura,” Deku said smoothly. “My name is Izumura.”

“Izumura,” Stain repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. “It’s a pleasure.”

With that, he jumped away, leaping up the fire escape and climbing past windowsills. For a moment, he lingered on the edge of a rooftop, the cape softly fluttering in the nightly wind, and then he was gone. Deku too, waited for a moment, glancing about, before he left out of the back of the alleyway, making sure his mask was securely fastened before he continued his way down the street, giving small nods to known villains and hiding from the occasional hero, not that they recognized him.

It was late, and there were little people on the streets, but still.

There was a cafe he wanted to visit.

He returned to the Airway cafe, giving a murmured greeting to the employees inside. Each wore something covering their identity, but the uniform was distinct. Even this place was sparsely populated, most of the tables empty, and there was no one there he felt like speaking to.

With nothing else better to do, he settled in at a table, and pulled out his laptop to get a little bit of work done, and to secure some information about the upcoming raid. Which, now that he checked the time, he realized was in approximately twelve hours. There was absolutely no way he would miss that, no matter how little sleep he got or how much information he had. 

Of course, he knew enough to know that All Might would quite easily beat their nomu. But he kept that information to himself. They didn’t pay him to tell them if their creations would work or not.

After following up with and subsequently ignoring some clients who wanted more than what they paid for, he ordered a small bit of food to munch on and, choosing to give in to his sweet tooth, ordered a piece of cake with his bowl of katsudon.

He was finishing up his food, the cake, for the time being, untouched, when someone else slid into the seat across from him. Almost immediately, he lowered the mask back over his face, covering his mouth. It was lucky enough that his sensors alerted him to someone approaching, giving him enough time to react.

He glanced up, and his body froze.

“Good evening, Deku.”

Chapter 10: Invasion

Notes:

Sorry about the late upload, but the next chapter is underway!

Across from his booth, he sidled into the seat. “I should have expected to see you here.”

Somehow, Deku managed to find his voice, pausing for only a moment to make sure his voice changer was working properly. The scanner was running as quickly as he could manage. “Eraserhead.” His voice warped, near-identical to how it had sounded in class, and the hero’s eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. “I am mildly impressed that you knew who I was. I don’t often show my face around here.”

“You forget,” the hero murmured quietly, keeping his voice low, “UA has many security systems.”

“I’m well aware I was caught on camera. Your class is quite interesting, yes?” Eraserhead was smart, and dangerously so. Meeting in person with him was one of the worst decisions he could have made. Should he need to get a message to Kurogiri without his quirk, he would be hard pressed to send the text without garnering suspicion. 

Wait. What did he care about a hero knowing that a villain was texting someone? It wasn’t like that was cause to attack him for sending a text. 

(He still didn’t send it.)

Eraser’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “So you have been watching.”

“It’s my job,” he explained simply. “And speaking of which, were you aware that your principal offered me one?” God, Deku loved poking at people, waiting for them to grow impatient and snappy. He was basically an internet troll in the flesh.

The hero clenched his jaw. “Nezu informed me. That does not mean I agree with it.”

“Why not?” His voice was light and playful. “The way I see it, hero, my work is incredibly beneficial to you all. Why do you not trust me?”

“Because,” he lowered his voice further, eyes flashing with a deeply concealed rage, “I have contacted you before. And you sold information to me without a second thought.”

Grinning softly, Deku recalled the conversation. He knew right away that it was Eraser just by how he spoke. “Oh, I know.”

The smallest bit of anger seemed to melt off of Eraserhead’s face, and just that was a stretch. Deku was good at reading facial expressions, but underground heroes got special training to hide how they were feeling. If Eraser wasn’t one of his favorite heroes, he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell.

“You-”

“I know everything that goes on with my clients. And your username was…something about cats, right?” Deku leaned in closer. “I know everyone I sell to, Eraserhead. You’d be surprised by what I’m able to find.” And it was true. Those people that he never responded to were those he didn’t believe would be able to pay, or the ones that he deemed too dangerous to obtain such intel. He was no idiot. He knew what he was doing.

Falling silent for a moment, Eraser’s eyes flashed a darker shade of red as his quirk activated. “Don’t you even think about trying anything.”

“I don’t have a quirk,” he said delicately, only then noticing that he had a hand perched on his laptop, “so it doesn’t matter if you use yours. And it’s neutral ground here, hero. If you attack me here, you declare war.”

The hero was definitely aware of this. He could not spend his days traversing the underworld, the darker side of humanity, for him to not recognize it. The black market, an underground, digital organization, was part of his domain. It was Deku’s, as well, and there were many places they both knew about. If this place violated the peace, there would be no stopping the hell that the villains would rain down on them.

Deku delighted in watching Eraser’s expression, carefully pinging his emotions. Frustration was the most evident, then anger, followed by an attempt at calming himself down. 

“So what did you want from me?”

“Answers.”

“I may or may not give them, Eraser.”

“I want to know what your intentions are at UA. You would not have accepted that job without a reason. You don’t do anything without a reason.”

Leaning back in his chair, Deku looked away, giving the impression that he was considering an answer. “Maybe I just wanted a way to work with heroes without arrest warrants being issued with my name on it.”

“Villains get warrants, Deku.”

“I’m doing a job,” he replied simply, careful to not let anger bleed into his voice. “I just don’t really mind who I sell to.” Eraser opened his mouth, and before the hero could say anything else he raised his tone. “And I’m tired of explaining this to every single person that I meet. This is enough. I’ve spoken to All Might, to your detectives, to Nezu. I’m tired of it.”

“No matter how ‘noble’ your cause-”

“No!” Deku got to his feet, and slammed his hands down. “You treat me like a child who doesn’t know right from wrong. I am well aware of what I’m doing. I know that this is wrong, Eraser, and I’ve made my peace with that. I’m not doing this for money, or for fame, or any other damn reason that normal villains wreak havoc. 

“I don’t want to take down hero society; I want to prove that there’s something wrong with it! ‘Hero’ doesn’t mean the same thing it did when the commission was established—which, by the way, is rotten to the core, which I’m sure you already know. As much as I hate All Might, as much as heroes like Endeavor make me want to vomit, I don’t want to uproot this society from its very core. Do you even know what kind of work I do?”

“You-”

“I sell the information of heroes that I disagree with, or have committed a crime that they have not been prosecuted for! I sell this information to villains with the capacity to get rid of them—and even if they don’t, I still get paid—I sell to the news, so they can spread the information and ruin a hero’s career, or to people who can actually do something about it! And don’t forget, with how dangerous some of these villains are, I will give information to heroes as well! I don’t charge them, or at least I didn’t, depending on what they wanted from me!”

His voice had risen far above normal speaking volume. It was surprising enough that the employees had not already asked him to keep it down. 

“You heroes act like you’re so high and mighty, yet none of you will go help the people who actually need it when it counts. What about the kids who just lost their parents? Or maybe someone who lost their job and now doesn’t have a home to go back to? I help people through the way I know how; by getting rid of those who don’t do their jobs the way they’re meant to! That’s exactly why I despise you, and All Might, and all you damn teachers that don’t know how to make real heroes and those that don’t just rely only on their power!”

Still, nobody came to quiet him. Most likely, it was the fear. Fear of villains and high-strung vigilantes with temper control issues kept them at bay and civil, as if their very lives depended on it. Perhaps, sometimes, they did. 

Whatever the case, there was no reply.

Bowing his head, Deku quietly began picking up his things, sliding cables into place on his belt and flashdrives into his pockets. “I do apologize. That was out of line.” And it was. Deku wasn’t supposed to be violent. Deku had no need to be.

For the moment, the hero seemed too stunned to speak. While Eraser was gathering his thoughts, Deku picked up his laptop, quickly doing a mental sweep of the area to ensure it was clear before he sent any messages to Kurogiri.

Then, in a quiet voice, Eraser spoke. “Hero society failed you.”

“No shit.”

“But that doesn’t mean it can’t be changed.”

“It’s already too late for me. I’m as good as dead, no matter what you try to pull.” He took a step backwards. “But thank you,” a mock bow, “for your consideration.”

Aizawa stood up as well. “We’re not done here.”

“Yes, we are,” he countered, dropping a few bills next to his untouched cake. Deku cast it a longing look before turning the other way. Meeting with dangerous people in cafes needed to stop. Immediately. Two was already far too much.

Before he could move very far, a hand caught his wrist. “Deku. We are not done here.”

Wrenching his arm away, Deku glanced back, taking another few steps away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Kid, I told you that-”

“You’re not getting anything from me!” As stealthily as he could, he dove into cyberspace for half a second, giving himself enough time to type out a message and location for Kurogiri. Thankfully, Eraser didn’t seem to notice. “Keep your hands off me.”

An employee appeared just to his right. “Sir, the cafe-”

“This is not an arrest,” Eraserhead said exasperatedly. 

“Be that as it may, our policy is peace, no matter the background. Start a fight, and you will be thrown out.” A strong-looking man took a stand just over his shoulder, tilting his head almost threateningly from side to side.

Surely recognizing that this was a bad decision, Eraserhead backed off, raising his hands, palms out. “Alright, alright. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Deku voiced. “I have friends in high places. Leave me alone.” A clear threat. He didn’t make many of those. Most of his words only implied violence.

As much as he liked this hero, or at least how he operated, this little exchange had him bristling and on edge. It had been a while since something had riled him up so badly. Probably not since someone tried to skimp out on their deal.

“Leave my students alone, and stop selling information on heroes. I will leave you alone after that.”

Deku laughed, a dark and evil, menacing thing, something that made even Tomura shiver.

“Now if I was going to do that, I would have stopped after the first sale.”

With that, he turned his back, trusting those behind him to keep the hero at bay. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he yanked it out, checking the message. Kurogiri was ready.

The familiar void that he was now so used to appeared out of nothing, crawling out of a crack in the fabric of the universe. It started off small, a seemingly purple flame, growing into a large fog that surrounded him within seconds.

“I’ll be seeing you, Eraserhead.”

And he was tugged through the gate, a calm, cool feeling washing over him as he passed through time and space itself, emerging on the other side in the main room of the bar. A breath of relief passed through his lips, and he allowed his shoulders to slump. “Thanks for the save, Kurogiri. I don’t think I’d have been able to keep that up much longer.”

“Keep going with your streak and you’ll end up arrested,” Tomura grumbled from the bar, some kind of smoothie on the smooth wooden surface in front of him. “Don’t get into those situations when you’ve got shit to do.”

Removing his mask, Deku sauntered over to the counter, setting his things down as gingerly as possible. “I didn’t get arrested, though, did I?”

“We’re going to kill All Might tomorrow,” came the response. “If they know you’re involved…”

“It’s my public declaration as a villain, I know.” Izumura rolled his eyes. “As long as All Might’s dead, I really don’t care; I’ll deal with the consequences. Is everyone ready to go for tomorrow?”

“I thought that was your job.”

“I don’t see it in my contract.”

“You know what I mean.”

Grinning softly, Deku replied, “Do I?” 

Shigaraki groaned. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.” He picked up his laptop, ignoring everything else, and backed away. “I’m headed to my room now.”

“Get your shit done before tomorrow.”

“It’s all done. Bring me along; I can’t miss this.”

Maybe after the incident with Aizawa, it would be wiser to stay far away, especially if he couldn’t use his quirk and monitor for any approaching heroes. Not only that, but if he was unlucky, the villain in charge of jamming their systems would jam his own too, and leave him nearly defenseless.

However, Deku knew his worth. All For One needed him in the picture. He wouldn’t allow Deku to be captured so easily, not that it would be. With Shigaraki, Kurogiri, and Nomu around, the heroes would have a hard time getting close enough to grab him. Not only that, but they were above using hostages. There was no threat, provided they didn’t choose to execute him on the spot, which was unlikely, especially if they became aware of his age. 

Retreating to his room, he quietly shut the door, turning the small lock to give himself some privacy. It was quiet, almost too much so. Soundproof paneling lined the walls, keeping noises both in and out. Things were strewn across his chaotically messy desk, the only neat thing being the notebooks, all nineteen of them, stacked up in the corner of his desk. He was almost done with the nineteenth—full of a compiled list of the quirks and weaknesses of the latest batch of lackeys he had to analyze—and there was a spare notebook or two sitting under his bed already. There were clients he needed to reach out to, emails he needed to respond to, but he ignored all of that in favor of turning on some soft music and completely collapsing on his bed, like a puppet that had lost its strings.

He had been sleep deprived enough for this. Late nights and early mornings had not done him well. Maybe that was the reason he’s been actively and inadvertently seeking out the heroes; his judgment has been too impaired. Izumura would have to fix that before it got him killed.

Deku didn’t bother to change out of his suit, aside from unbuckling the belt with his flashdrives and other slightly fragile equipment. There had been much headache and every ounce of skill poured into procuring the information on them, and he would be damned if that meant they were destroyed. The security systems had been upgraded recently, and he really didn’t want to bother breaking back in just to replace something he accidentally broke.

The music dulled his senses, filling his ears, nestling into his brain. He closed his eyes, allowing it to completely block our all other thoughts, and to remove his stressors. It was late, and he was tired, so his body was easily able to relax, and slump bonelessly down into the cushions. Izumura couldn’t be bothered to pick up a pillow to use, instead curling up right on top of the comforter. 

It was only when he realized that sound wasn’t reaching his ears that he woke. Kurogiri was lingering by his computer, hand hovering over the keyboard. The twelve-hour music playlist that Deku had painstakingly gathered had just been paused.

“I’m a little surprised that turning this off was all it took to wake you.”

“How’d you get in my room?” he demanded, sitting up quickly. Deku was sure he looked like a mess, with tangled green hair and crumpled clothes. “I’m sure I locked the door.”

“Locks are not an issue for me,” came the answer. “It is time.”

An hour later, he was fully geared up, and stepping into an open warp gate. His phone was clenched tightly in his hand underneath specially designed gloves, barely making contact with the screen. His laptop had not been taken, because of the bulk. The helmet over his head concealed who he was, but Aizawa would know instantly. The students would learn of the hacker Deku.

Kachaan especially.

And if Izuku Midoriya’s identity got leaked?

He had died once. He could do it again.

Chapter 11: The USJ

Notes:

*sigh*

Okay, look...I'm not proud. I'm not gonna justify why I didn't update this for so long, because that's called giving excuses and y'all have been waiting patiently.

I'm very sorry

Please accept this as my humble offering

Kachaan was the first to catch his eye.

The hero costume was almost exactly as he had designed when they were kids. Aside from a couple of hardly noticeable changes, his ideas were right there, in plain sight, painted for everyone to see. Was it just because he couldn’t come up with anything better, or that he felt guilty over Izuku’s supposed ‘suicide’?

It looked as if the costume makers had even used his blueprints, the ones painstakingly planned out—his backup plans as a support gear designer if his hero dream didn’t work out. Even from a young age, he was already making backups. 

As far as the League knew, though, he didn’t have a second plan. Not for this.

There was something they hadn’t accounted for, in their original idea: All Might not showing up. Which, if they asked, Deku could have told them. His self-destructive tendencies left room for little else.

Apparently, no matter how much All For One claimed to know about All Might, he did not know about the supposed ‘time limit’ that the man had with his abilities. Though Deku had about the same amount of information, he knew enough to know that All Might rarely turned down a good fight. Exceptions applied; the incident with himself didn’t end up provoking the hero into revealing his civilian identity. The hero probably used up his time for the day, and couldn’t risk being seen around his students, not that he even mentioned the possibility to Shigaraki. It would ruin his own plans. And he wouldn’t listen anyway.

“He’s not here,” Deku muttered quietly, not even sure if the message was intended to be heard. “Probably won't be.”

There seemed to be some minor discussions between the students, Aizawa giving muttered orders that he couldn’t hear unless…

Oh. Right.

Finally, for that morning, he logged online. Tapping the side of his helmet, he linked himself to the earpieces that he had known they had been given.

“-don’t do anything stupid. These are real villains.”

With the communication jammer in place, attempting to actively help them over the line would prove disastrous once they all got half a brain in their head. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could reach them while they couldn’t, but it was best not to open his mouth and help.

All they needed to do, as far as Shigaraki was concerned, was put on a bit of a show, kill a few students, kill All Might, and then leave. For the others, the thugs and what else that All For One hired, they could let loose as they pleased as long as All Might died. Deku was not going to let that happen. Villain or not, he didn’t like killing, and he had made certain that the others knew that they were not to kill those here or they’d risk his wrath. 

Even he saw it necessary sometimes—maybe for a certain blond-haired student—but the others were innocent, as far as he knew. He would not stand by and watch as children were murdered.

He ignored the part of himself that was still a child too.

“There’s only a few of them!” Bakugo spoke through his earpiece as he ignored the words of his fellow villains. “We can take ‘em.” 

Deku couldn’t stop his laugh. It started as nothing more than a snort, then built up into a full on cackle, ringing through his helmet, echoing across the bounds of the USJ. The heroes stiffened at the sound, and several of the students shrunk away.

His laugh slowly died down to little more than a chuckle. “Oh, you sweet, naive students. How insignificant we must seem to you.” A little toying around with them, though, would not be out of place. Eraserhead already knew who he was, and he wanted to have some fun .

“Remain back here,” Aizawa’s voice cut into his ear. “That man is very dangerous; you cannot approach. He will kill you if you provoke him.”

“Please,” Bakugo scoffed. “He’s just another extra who-”

“Deku is dangerous,” Aizawa said plainly. Izumura could have laughed again at the sheer look of surprise that passed over Kachaan’s face. It remained there for only a few seconds, and then it twisted into a scowl. He turned to face Deku, eyes narrowed in pure anger.

“Deku you…you bastard.” His voice was barely a whisper, but Deku could hear the tension. “You bastard!” With that, he lunged, his explosions firing himself into the air.

“Well you’ve certainly improved your quirk,” Deku said calmly, and took a few steps back before he could land. “Kurogiri, please continue as planned.”

As he spoke, villains stepped through the warp gate behind him, stretched out and ready to attack. Deku prepared himself, quickly drawing his knife in anticipation of Bakugo’s attack, but Kurogiri stepped in, as Deku knew he would. Another portal made Kachaan land right back where he started, behind the rest of the students and far out of range. The League could not afford to lose him, and definitely not to a mere student.

“All Might should be here as well,” Kurogiri said to him, collected and level-headed as always. “You knew something about this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” Deku answered honestly. “But nothing concrete.”

The heroes in front of them were prepared now. Eraserhead had lowered his specially designed goggles over his face and Thirteen had placed herself in front of the students with her hands outstretched. Though the students looked ready to fight themselves, a few as-is were restraining Bakugo and chattering worriedly amongst themselves. Most of them had little practice with their quirks, and didn’t compare to the villains who’d spent the last several honing theirs.

They stood no chance against Tomura’s army. None at all.

Eraserhead was an underground hero. He specialized in sneak attacks, attacking one-on-one and vanishing just as quickly. Wide open spaces were not his style, nor was he good at handling multiple opponents when he couldn’t keep his eyes on all of them. He was not suited to this kind of fight.

Villains escaped the warp gates, spreading out amongst the floor, stalking towards the heroes while keeping their distance, while others scattered to their assigned zones. There, they would lie in wait for the kids to appear.

“So you scumbags used the press as cover and sneaked onto campus.” Eraserhead’s shoulders shifted ever so slightly. Tracking his body language closely, Deku set a hand on the phone in his pocket, just in case his quirk was needed. Both Tomura and Aizawa would feed off of the energy each other gave off. They were not a good match.

“Where is All Might?” Shigaraki asked. Izumura side-eyed him, at that stupid hand pressed over his face, the one belonging to ‘Father’. It was the most idiotic thing he could think of. “I brought some friends who can’t wait to meet him. Maybe if I kill a couple of kids he’ll come out to play.”

The statement was enough for Eraser’s quirk to activate, and his capture scarf rose up around him, waving intimidatingly. It was the small part of his quirk that let them know exactly when he was dangerous, some secondary quirk factor that made items around his head float. Deku knew that he’d find his quirk missing if he tried to use it, but it wasn’t suited to this environment. 

While Thirteen remained behind with the students, Eraser began his attack in earnest. Without much interest, Deku lazily watched the fight. His helmet recorded all interactions, regardless of whether he was paying attention or not. If he really needed to, he could go back over the footage. The fight didn’t seem all that appealing, either. Eraser and the others were on totally different levels. He was an interesting hero, yes, but not enough to gather more information. Especially if he was just going to die here, which was how this encounter was shaping out.

This was a complete waste of time. Aizawa was completely outmatched and out of his league. He was a stealth hero; even Tomura knew that much. Fighting out in the open wasn’t his style nor was it to his advantage.

Tomura’s suggestion, however, was not in the plan. They all knew as much. The villains they had under their command—Deku’s command—were not to kill the kids they fought. They only wanted All Might. Though, if one or two were to die along the way…well, it wasn’t really on his hands. 

That’s what he told himself, at least. If it would help him sleep better at night, sure.

“Kurogiri,” he said softly. A small shift in the corner of his vision let him know that the man was paying attention to him. “All Might’s mine.”

“Of course. That was the deal.” There was no wavering in his voice, but Deku knew it was a lie. They wouldn’t let him, the lowly hacker, their mutt, their supposed trump card, kill someone that valuable. Deku knew better than to comment, though. As it was, there was a little voice in the back of his mind that said he wouldn’t be able to take someone’s life himself. He cried for days the first time his information resulted in someone’s death. Taking up the knife himself? Probably not possible. 

To distract himself, he said, “Make sure you send that one where the strongest of our army is.” He pointed. “Next to him, the red and white kid, he’s also a threat, but keep them separated and in an area where his quirk is of less use. The others are of no consequence.” His mind had already started to slip into his ‘analyst’ mode. The quirks they fought against today were powerful, there was no doubting that. If the kids really knew how to use them, though, that was where the question lay. He only knew of two that would be a major issue. Neither of them would die here.

There, across the arena, Thirteen had stepped in front of the kids, hand raised and quirk ready to activate. “Get out of the way, now!”

“I’ll scatter you across the arena!” Kurogiri called threateningly, letting the purple fog that made up his body shoot toward the young heroes. Now, this was the interesting part. How would the children handle their well-picked villains?

Well-picked, he mused, was a strong word. Most were low-lives, thugs who only knew how to take orders. Their quirks were the only useful thing about them, and even then it didn’t grant their sorry existence meaning. Half of them couldn’t even use them to their fullest extent, and a few more used drugs to amplify the output they should be able to get if they just worked a little.

Deku was, in all meanings of the word, bored. Eraserhead was slowly making his way through the crowd of criminals. Thirteen was down, already. Eraser was at a disadvantage, there was no denying that, but Tomura underestimated him. He would prevail, and the whole plan would crumble underneath their feet.

“Let one of the kids get out,” he muttered lowly. “If they alert teachers, All Might will come running. Unless you’d rather I send him a message myself?”

“He’ll take the message as a threat,” Tomura returned. “I thought you didn’t want to ally yourself.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I don’t give a damn if he takes it as a threat; it is one.” With that, he yanked out his phone, settling down on the ground with crossed legs. This would only take a moment, but he would rather not collapse in front of the heroes. Collapse would mean weakness. Weakness meant that they were mortal.

Deku was not just a mortal. He existed online. He was knowledge incarnate. Those who knew him feared his name. They whispered it as if the name alone was enough to draw his attention, operated without the use of the internet as if he wouldn’t be able to detect their operations.

Well, he knew. He watched, he learned, and he waited. 

And he typed in the number one hero’s phone number to casually send him a text.

All Might~

It went through, despite the blocker. He didn’t have the time to celebrate before the text was clicked on, almost instantly. 

Deku?

The USJ is under attack, like I warned you earlier. I’d get over here if you don’t want your students to die.

That was enough of a suitable threat. But still, he added more.

Tell your detective friend that he was right about the villains. They’re more dangerous than you know. An old friend, should I say, one you know very well.

And now, there was nothing more to do but wait. The children had been scattered among their so-called villains. They were too busy to give any notice to their teachers who were being overwhelmed.

One student, he noticed, Iida, managed to break out. But it didn’t matter. All Might was coming, as were the others. 

Could they beat them? Well, probably not. But it was enough to give them a good scare if they retreated quickly enough. A villain who could warp into any location…that would definitely make them uneasy. Especially if there happened to be a villain in Tartarus that they cared about.

Izumura picked up his phone. He was not about to dive right into cyberspace, not with heroes on the way and no nearby cameras to monitor his own body. Instead, he remained on the surface, getting into the circuits and boards of the little device without going into the internet itself. Keeping his body immobile, especially in such a situation, was idiotic at best and suicidal at worst. Plus, every so often, Eraserhead’s gaze would interrupt his work.

We are on our way.

“The heroes are coming,” he voiced aloud, calmly scrolling through his inbox. He had a few new potential clients to sort through. “All Might is with them. I would recommend we get going, but if you think our Nomu has a chance…”

“The Nomu will kill him,” Tomura hissed. “That’s the whole point of us being here.”

With a casual shrug, Deku glanced up at Eraserhead. “We wanted All Might, not the entire staff. The thugs you gathered won’t be able to take them all down. Add that to the number of heroes in this area and we may be far out of our league here.”

His words were not going to sway Tomura, but it was no matter. He was here, All Might was coming, and Tomura was about to get a taste of power getting to his head. Would he get the chance to kill All Might? Probably not. Would All Might die here? Also most likely a no. And as much as Deku wanted to see All Might die, he wasn’t stupid. They were far outclassed. 

He couldn’t even remember why he had agreed to this plan.

Maybe the heroes knew something that Deku didn’t. They certainly seemed to act as if they knew more about him than they were leading on. All Might even didn’t seem to be that wary of him anymore, and he didn’t like that at all. The heroes shouldn’t grow complacent just because he was willing to work with them. Or maybe they were wary, and just hiding it well? Either way, he should be more cautious moving forward.

“All Might will be here.” Tomura scowled, a hand digging into the scabs at his neck. “That’s enough. Our nomu has the power, and I will not waste this chance to kill the boss.”

“It’s practically suicide,” Deku retorted, “but if you’re keen on getting yourself killed I won’t bother.”

Tomura’s scowl deepened, turning his attention back to the main fight at hand. “You should worry about your own job, Deku. Keep your nose out of things that don’t concern you.”

“I thought that was my job,” he replied, turning his head as a loud explosion sounded from one of the distant training centers. Kachaan was probably having fun over there. “And I won’t be getting paid if you die, contrary to your belief. Quit being a moron and learn to cut your losses.”

“We haven’t lost yet!”

“Maybe, but if they all show up here we will. And I, for one, am not looking forward to the treatment I’d get if I got caught.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and stood, turning away from Eraserhead. “We’ve lost already. Kurogiri, I have no reason to be here anyway. Send me back.”

As expected and frustrating as it was, Kurogiri followed Tomura’s lead. “Remain a few minutes, Deku. If we truly do not need you, then there is no harm in you staying.”

“I don’t particularly feel like getting caught today!” he hissed. “Did you not hear me? They will kill us all, and-”

BOOM.

He winced, hand going up to the side of his helmet. An alert blared in the side of his vision, attention swiveling to the front doors. He had to smack the side of his head before it shut off.

“He’s here.”

Distant cheers could be heard from the students that remained helpless and away from their small army of thugs. Even Deku felt his hackles rise at the clearing dust and the shape that was barely visible from the sunlight shining behind them like a beacon. He had forgotten how much hatred surged through himself.

Even without looking in Tomura’s direction, he could hear the scowl in his voice. “All Might.”

“The heroes-” he tried again, but Tomura snapped at him.

“Deku, just shut up! He’s here, we don’t care about anything else. We can kill him. I thought that was what you wanted?” A hand went to scratch at his neck. “You know nothing about this. You know nothing! You hacker types are all the same. No strength, no power, nothing! You are worth. Nothing.”

Deku had a reputation for not taking insults lying down, but there was nothing he could do here. Even though he knew Tomura, and knew how easy it was to get him angry, the words still hurt. Slightly. That's what he let himself believe, anyway. This was just anger, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything.

He drew himself up. “Very well.” Slowly, he raised up a hand, waving in the direction of the nomu. “Do as you please. I don’t care.” 

There was nowhere to run from All Might, and certainly escape was impossible with the heroes on their way. They’d be here in minutes, which was far too soon without any quirks to amplify his agility or speed. Deku was at the mercy of Kurogiri, who would not leave Tomura’s side. While some heroes held a more neutral opinion of him, most here did not. Nezu alone likely wouldn’t dare vouch for him, despite their correspondence. Eraserhead would kill him willingly; he had led the villains straight to his students. And he had no idea where the rest of the teachers stood on his decisively illegal activities.

Despite himself, panic was starting to buzz just underneath his skin. What would he do, should he be captured? Surely All For One found him useful enough to break him out of whatever prison they locked him into. But would Tomura, given the outburst just then? He doubted it. And if he was exposed, Deku would be no more. It would just be Izuku Midoriya, the stupid, quirkless kid that went missing a while back. 

Not only that, but his enemies, those he retaliated against would know his identity, and who his family was. They would target his mom, who he’s taken every precaution to keep safe, who he’s sent over half of his earnings to in secret to look after herself. Even Kachaan’s mother, who didn’t need any of it, with a message attached to look after her. And she had, even without knowing where or who it came from. But if he was in prison, there was nobody to look after them. All his secrets may be exposed, should he not hide them in time. Surely they couldn’t break through his layers and layers of encryptions, but even then it could only be a matter of time with computers on their side. He was, after all, only human.

Now he damned himself, moving away when the battle began to rage in earnest. He was of no help here, even checking cameras to see how close the heroes were. Shigaraki wasn’t going to listen. Kurogiri wasn’t going to listen. The thugs were worthless, and already the student heroes had begun to gather. He couldn’t beat them. He wasn’t a fighter, wasn’t meant to be. He only was here to watch All Might’s demise, which was seeming less and less likely as time went on, and the nomu started feeling the hits. 

“Kurogiri!” he called, as another warning. Urgency seeped into his voice. “We need to leave!”

“Not yet,” came the calm reply, and Deku knew they were done for. Eraserhead had fallen as All Might joined them, and his quirk now had no obstructions. He caught a glimpse of a large explosion, close by, and a distant scream. The students had beaten their villains.

“They’re right on top of us! Shigaraki, get your head out of the fucking clouds, and let’s go. We can’t fight them! Our nomu can’t handle All Might, what makes you think we can?!”

Sense didn’t reach him. It never did. Even during the moments they barely tolerated each other, it would end in an argument within moments. His ego would get them all in trouble, no matter how much fighting power his quirk had. It wasn’t polished, or trained well. He might be able to take down a few people, but it wouldn’t work well against large groups. Deku could fight, but as far as skills went he was essentially quirkless. The best thing he could do to avoid injury was surrender.

It only took another few seconds for the heroes to show up. Deku stayed quiet, tapping the side of his helmet, as if fixing an earpiece. The majority of them would recognize him as a mercenary. He was not a physical threat, but those standing by him were.

Bullets flew in their direction. Deku had enough sense to back up preemptively, but Tomura had no such luck. He was lucky enough to have Kurogiri step in before Snipe could kill him. As it was, he wouldn’t have the self-restraint to keep the first one from going into Tomura’s skull.

Before they vanished, he passed one last message along to the heroes.

Your students will face many other challenges from this group. I cannot prepare you for more.

Chapter 12: An Aftermath

Notes:

For those curious, I deleted the 'introduction' bit. It wasn't really necessary and that was back before I didn't realize what notes were. Y'all know who I am by now :)

Before anyone could give him instructions, Deku retired to his room and logged back into the class, yanking off his helmet. The students were provided with earpieces, and without the communication blocker, it wouldn’t seem suspicious that he was only speaking now. 

Just to be certain, he double and triple checked that his voice changer was working okay before putting on his headset. He wanted it different enough from Deku that they wouldn’t find it too close. They were smart, sure, but hopefully the students wouldn’t piece it together.

“What happened?” his voice warbled. He hadn’t yet pulled up the cameras on his desktop, which he was still waiting to turn on. His other devices blinked at him on the desk. His quirk was useless if the computer wasn’t on. “All my cameras went dark, what’s going on?”

“Villains!” a student replied breathlessly. The girl with the earphone quirk, if he remembered the voice correctly. How curious; he hadn’t expected her to hold up that well. “They attacked the USJ!”

“Yeah, where were you, dude?” another student cut in. It sounded like the blonde student he thought resembled a pro hero he vaguely knew. Still need to look into that. “We could’ve used some help!”

“I couldn’t reach you guys, dumbass! It’s like the whole area went dark, I couldn’t get anything until the heroes showed up!” As he got louder, he could hear the pitching of the computer voice effect getting more varied and infrequent. Of course, he had to play the part, fall into the role of a distressed student who had no clue what happened. He still didn’t have a visual, but didn’t dive into cyberspace. What he needed was marked on his computer, anyway; the cameras were too easy to access. He signed in as quickly as he could to go find it. “They just came on, I just see people everywhere. How’d they get in!?”

“Some portal quirk.” That was from the creative girl, the recommendation student, calm and level headed. So she was good under pressure, and well thought. She’d make a formidable foe if left unchecked, but he didn’t know enough to make assumptions. “They teleported into the USJ, but the leaders got away.” 

So she did recognize Deku as a leader, rather than a useful subordinate. 

Interesting.

“I’m not seeing traces of anyone else on campus,” he said, briefly taking a moment to look through some of the cameras. “Just a bunch of heroes apprehending people in the USJ. All other locations appear safe.” It was the truth. The nomu was god-knows-where, and the other villains hadn’t breached the rest of the campus.

For a second, he removed an ear from his headset, listening out to the rest of the base. They’d be focused for a while on Tomura, so he should be okay to keep talking with the class without interruptions. They needed his absolute focus; his full attention. These were people he had little experience with, and who could bring about his downfall in an instant. He couldn’t afford any attention drawn to himself. 

Luckily, it didn’t seem like anybody was approaching his room. He shifted the headset back over his ear. 

“Confirmed, nobody else on campus. I don’t see any portal quirks or anything, unless it’s hidden. Can you describe them to me so I know what I’m looking for? I can look around the city if the quirk doesn’t teleport long range.”

There was brief static, and some odd shuffling. The list of earpieces seemed to fluctuate as some students pulled them off. Then, another voice came over the line. 

“Izumura, can you hear me?”

Present Mic. He must have taken an earpiece either from Aizawa or the students. Perhaps he was in charge of the class in Eraserhead’s absence, though he didn’t quite like the hero using his first name.

“Yes,” he confirmed. It would do well for him to listen to instructions, like a good student. To fight back would draw suspicion, to disobey could mean people looking into his hastily crafted backstory with a more scrutinizing eye. He had no other choice.

“Scan the area for people out of place. Look for those carrying support items or hanging out in groups. One is severely injured in his arms and legs, we will look through nearby hospitals but if you can, you should search as your quirk allows.”

Deku was almost taken aback. He’d never heard Present Mic speak in such a manner. Usually, his laid back nature carried into high stress environments, even if he spoke a little more seriously. There wasn’t even the hint of a nickname that the hero so often used with his students or fans, which meant he saw the situation as dire. He’d underestimated the hero. He’d misjudged him.

Wow. He might be losing his touch.

“Will do, sensei,” he answered calmly. That was the best way to handle this—do as he’s told, keep his head down, and don’t draw too much attention.

“And one more thing.” 

Principal Nezu. When had he logged into the call? He didn’t recall being informed that the principal would have an earpiece as well, though he hadn’t exactly paid attention to what earpieces were online. Like Mic, he’d likely taken one from a student that wasn’t listening to him.

“What is it?”

More shuffling. Then, quietly, “The other students, and teachers, cannot hear you. I would very much like to know your connection to Tomura Shigaraki.” He didn’t quite sound angry, but Izuku knew he had to be.

Shit. He should have known it would come to this. He knew that the others would assume, especially after Kachaan’s display, that Deku was Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless boy with insane talent. Izumura Shigaraki, their classmate of only a couple of days, had a quirk that all the teachers and staff were witness to. But someone appearing who had it out for the heroes, who shared the same name, who could have met with the hacker Deku, was too much of a coincidence.

“I do not know him,” he lied easily. But that wouldn’t be enough. Someone with his kind of quirk would have easily run into Deku online. “However, I know of him.”

“I see.” Nezu’s voice was soft. “And how did you hear of him?”

This was it. He tapped his fingers against his keys, contemplating a response. He could lie again, say he had happened upon him on the streets, or heard the name at one of the vigilante cafes. But that would raise too many questions that he did not have answers to, and between one moment and the next everything he’d carefully built up would vanish.
If it was any consolation, at least they wouldn’t find him, no matter how much he knew. He didn’t have safe houses, but he had places and people he could turn to should the League be exposed.

“Through Deku.”

He swallowed. The principal was silent for a moment. 

“Very well. I shall contact Deku and set up an appointment to speak with him.”

Deku’s mouth was dry. “You can do that?”

“I believe you already know that answer, Midoriya.”

Without any other word, Izumura ended the connection, knowing it was basically proving the principal right. He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. A hand came up, and he yanked off his headphones, staring as if the lights above his head would give him answers. They, of course, had none for him.

He’d been found out. He’d been too lenient, too loose-lipped. They’d discovered him, his affiliations. They might know his goals, might know his weaknesses.

Might get to his mom.

He couldn’t allow that. Wouldn’t allow that. Nezu would alert the heroes to what he’d figured out, and then he was done, League be damned. And even if they didn’t get to him, couldn’t actually catch him with their incompetent heroes, his reputation would be ground into dust and scattered to the wind. People wouldn’t deal with a child who couldn’t even keep his identity from being discovered. And his enemies would target his family, and anyone associated with him. It would be chaos.
And the public would finally become truly aware of him.

He’d always been lurking just barely in the shadows, enough for rumors to spread but nothing concrete to be known. They knew he was ruthless, and that was it. He always had the best data, the most accurate information on the market. He was second to none, and he knew it. If it got out that he was a kid? If it got out who his family was? She’d be killed by one of many of his enemies before he had the chance to get to her.

His only hope was Nezu.

Unlike the others, Nezu wasn’t too keen on sharing information. Their one in-person interaction had proved that enough, as the heroes didn’t even realize he was on campus. They knew that they’d had contact, of course, but didn’t seem to know anything else about him. Nothing that he managed to pick up on, at least. 

Maybe that was the best course of action. Listen to Nezu, make whatever deals he wanted, and keep it at that, so his identity would be safe.

The other weak link was Kachaan. 

Kachaan knew who he was; calling himself Deku was a dead giveaway. He had to threaten him, somehow, into staying silent. He couldn’t let Kachaan know he’d gotten the better of Deku. They weren’t kids anymore. This was real, with real stakes at play. He had to either threaten his silence or buy it, and he knew that wouldn’t work. Kachaan never had been motivated by money. 

Deku should contact him. Send him a few messages that nobody else could understand, and keep his silence. Threaten his parents, who he cared deeply for even if he’d never admit it. Maybe release some information about how he treated the quirkless kids in school, and hope that it would discredit whatever he had to say about Izuku Midoriya. 

Regardless of how he moved forward, he had to send a message. Cover his tracks, like he always did. That was something he seemed to be forgetting. Maybe the supposed safety of the League really was getting to him. Before he’d had powerful backing, he was forced to use heroes, or pay small time mob bosses to go and dish out a beating to those that crossed him. Now, he had the reputation that kept his clients in line. And the threat of the League was a substantial one. Getting into the country’s number one hero school would be respectful to any villain worth their salt. 

He let out a breath, and relaxed some of the tension in his shoulders. Calming down was good. If he lost his head now, he wouldn’t be able to fix his mistakes. It would just take a little bit of effort, but he could fix it. Things weren’t ruined just yet. 

Turning back to his monitor, he pulled up messages, and typed in the phone number that he’d had memorized for years.

When you’re not busy, Kachaan, we need to talk.

There. That should be innocuous enough that any heroes or police he was nearby wouldn’t question it. They wouldn’t be able to trace the source in the event that it was under suspicion, and he very much doubted that the police would demand to search the students’ phones. That should be enough to cover his ass, but he could monitor the situation as it unfolded. The police, no matter how many times they noticed him, hadn’t managed to upgrade their systems enough to lock him out. 

Sighing again, Izumura slumped in his chair. He had to trust, however much he hated that. He had to trust the heroes in their stupidity, trust that Kachaan would take his threats seriously. 

He needed a distraction.

Five minutes later, he was out the door, backpack slung over his shoulder and phone in his hand, walking up the fire escape of an apartment building nearby. The others were all distracted, so slipping out unnoticed wasn’t much of a hassle. He didn’t bother with his usual caution; the heroes were busy at the school, miles away. And if anyone spotted him, it wasn’t like it mattered at this point.

Surveillance always relaxed him. Since he’d obtained his quirk, he’d usually keep to his room, with the cameras he hacked into or the ones he planted himself. But being out and about once in a while wasn’t a bad thing, and it was exactly what he needed. The fresh air was nice, once in a while, especially when the amount of time inside had long made his skin go pale and ashen. Sunlight wasn’t exactly something he worried about when he was working.

Maybe some heroes would be available for him to observe. In person, like he used to be. Back when life was more simple, and he didn’t have to look over his shoulder constantly. Back before people knew who he was. Back when it was just him, looking after his mom. Paying the bills. Making his own food. Skipping school to go watch a fight, then going home instead because he got a little too close and had to wrap his injuries.

He never went to the hospital. Not for himself, at any rate. He’d gone to visit his mom, but never for his burns, or the various scratches he got from wreckage falling nearby. Looking after them was always a quick internet search away. He had the money and the means to get what he needed. Why did he need anything else? Why should he turn to someone else when the rest of society turned their backs on him?

The rooftops, like usual, were quiet. A small breeze blew his bangs into his face, and he brushed them away, only mildly annoyed. They were overgrown. He’d learned to cut his hair a while back, but he was never particularly good at it. Months of neglect left it constantly in his eyes, and he’d never gathered the courage to go get it cut. Staying in one place for almost an hour, out in public, unnerved him, more than he liked to admit. In an open space, where people could see what he looked like, and potentially recognize him. Where if the police got a heads up, he’d be waiting, and unable to run if he got surrounded. 

At least on the subway he was surrounded by technology he could make go haywire. Here, there wasn’t much of that, aside from his phone. And he doubted the camera network nearby was too extensive, so he wouldn’t even be able to track them. He wouldn’t even be able to use his quirk, because he had to stay alert. Like a trapped rat.

He banished the thought as he traversed through the city, hunkering down if he saw a hero who could have seen him, and moved, slowly. He followed those he saw, getting into their comms and letting the stream of chatter reach his ears. That…felt nice. Relaxing. As if he could breathe.

Deku yanked off his helmet at some point, and settled down on a rooftop. He didn’t pull out his laptop. Instead, he just remained, and watched. Just existing, which was something he rarely got to do.

It occurred to him, then, that the detective might have been telling him the truth. There could be a life for him, outside of the league. Where he’d be able to have more moments like this, and not stress enough to be worried about his hair going white. Where he might, at some point, have a friend.

But just as quickly, something dark and foreboding banished the thought away immediately. He was startled, unrecognizing of what it was. What had gotten into him? What had taken him over? It closed up his throat, making him choke on empty words, gripping at his mind and slowly tugging at it to make the idea go away.

The presence, or whatever it was, was enough to make any thought of running retreat, at least for now. When it relented, he was left reeling, staring at the cars moving on the street below, passerby walking idly on either side.

Not for the first time he wondered if he’d even be missed.

Notes:

Yes, yes, I know, I'm sorry for the wait. I focused on other things waiting for the motivation for this to come back. Also, I'm sorry about the weird spacing. I'm working on a different computer and it's not working like the one I'm used to.

This is one of my favorite chapters with how it turned out. We all know Deku's a badass, but this chapter I'm trying to show that he still can be bested. He is still young, and the adults he's interacting with have had a lifetime of experience dealing with people like him. Plus, where's the fun in having everything go his way?

I hope to get the next one out a lot sooner, since I'm more motivated with plot and everything. But no promises.

Chapter 13: The Heroes

Notes:

This is not edited. I wrote the majority of it today.

Please do keep in mind I'm a student. I have a ton of homework that I definitely didn't prioritize while working on this fic. So with that, I'd just like to let you know that I try my best to write this as quickly as I can.

Two days later, Deku wandered into Tomura’s room down the hall. “You alive in here?” he called out, hanging in the doorframe.

“Fuck you,” was the response, but Tomura said nothing else, staring up at the ceiling. He really must have been feeling the pain; usually he’d have cussed Deku out for not warning him even though he most definitely did.

Izumura perched on the edge of the bed for a moment. “Good. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Feel like shit, though.”

“That tends to be what happens when you get shot.” Deku looked away, at the bare walls. For once, it seemed like his usual posters and comics were gone.

“Not like you’d know anything,” said Tomura. 

“You’d be surprised.”

And it seemed like he had no response.

That night, he received an email from Nezu while drafting another for the Hero Killer. He’d obtained some data during his week away from school that he figured his ‘partner’ might be interested in, though Deku himself barely glanced at it. It wasn’t anything particularly useful, at least not to him. Most locations and data he received wasn’t noted down. He knew how to find them again anyway.

Opening the message, though, revealed that the principal was careful. It named a date and a time, but no names. No trace. Deku would have gone crazy trying to wipe the data if it included his name, like he’d been called over the radio frequency. That wasn’t too secure, either, but at least UA had their own systems and couldn’t be monitored by outside influences. That meant the police couldn’t access it. Email, like everything else online, was easy for him to get into. At least this would be alright.

The date listed was only the next day. Nezu must have been sure he’d read it quickly. It was also at night, too, so his suit would be useful to hide. He didn’t doubt that UA would be careful, but when the students were away and only the teachers remained, it’d be very dangerous for him. If it was a trap, he’d walk right into it. Yet at the same time, he didn’t feel like informing Kurogiri. If he was caught, well, that was it. At least it would be the UA staff, not the other heroes who might have it out for him.

Like an idiot, he decided to go.

The base was still hectic, and security was increased, yet the next day he didn’t have any trouble slipping out unnoticed. He’d thrown a hoodie over the top of his suit to hopefully hide it from any heroes he might run into, and his helmet was tucked away in his backpack. With any luck, he’d look like any other normal teenager, running around to find a spot to do homework.

Without incident, he made his way to the subway. There were several police officers around that he had to stand by for a few minutes in the crowd, but they didn’t notice him. He eavesdropped for a bit, but the subject of conversation was nothing of consequence, as usual. They didn’t even seem concerned with the UA invasion only a few miles away. Typical. No matter how much trouble they cause, new villains pop up daily. They’re only concerned with their city. 

Not that he really blamed them. They were only assigned to one city. It wasn’t his problem to deal with, and it never was his concern. He worked for their problems, after all. But if they knew who he was, he did think they’d be a little more cautious.

Unlike the last time he found himself on a train, there was no All Might here to mess with. He didn’t think he would have. All Might must be recovering, or putting together lesson plans at UA. The direction he was headed in. Again, he wondered if this was a trap, and dismissed it. He had failsafes, he would be fine. The information he carried, if it came down to it, could be released and spread across the internet. Deku would rip open the canvas painting of hero society and reveal the stains underneath, and leave the commission to patch up the gaps, if they even could. If he was walking into an ambush, their lives would be ripped apart in front of their eyes. 

This was one of the few times Deku didn’t really like having that power.

Along with a couple other passengers, he got off at the stop closest to UA, following the crowd. There was a large shopping mall in town that he assumed most of them were headed to, and it would drop suspicion if he appeared to be doing the same. He followed them for a little while, just a few blocks away from the subway, before breaking off to hide in some alleyway. 

There were many more police stationed here. He had to be more careful, especially now that they could recognize his suit. The more recognizable things were hidden away, but he still couldn’t take chances when his usual fallback didn’t even know he was out here. Without a combat quirk, a conflict wouldn’t end in his favor, even if he could get to his knife. The police had guns. A knife wouldn’t do much against bullets. 

The rest of the way was basically a hike. He blended in where he could, and tried to seem unassuming, which luckily wasn’t difficult. He’d always had a relatively plain-looking face. Most of the path to UA had a lot of traffic, so he simply moved along, skipping past cops and the occasional hero, which lessened the closer to UA he got. He’d assumed it would be the opposite, but it worked in his favor.

Outside of its walls was a small forest, so he ducked in there the first moment he could. Hound Dog, the school lifestyle guidance counselor, often patrolled the area, so Deku had to move quickly. He ditched his backpack and the hoodie a short distance from the walls, still in the trees’ shadow, and put on his helmet. Even though his sensors didn’t detect quirked presences nearby, he still kept a hand on his knife and crept forward, eyes and ears strained for movement. 

Going in through the front gate was about the dumbest move he could make, but he’d be able to influence it enough to get it to open with his quirk. He could also scale the walls, like he’d done before, but Nezu might be expecting that. Though he knew he’d likely run into at least one hero before getting to Nezu’s office, he hoped it wouldn’t be so soon after getting inside.

He took a deep breath. One aspect of his suit held both a cloaking and a holographic feature that could keep him hidden. He’d tested it before, without much luck, since his sensors still picked him up easily enough. But maybe it was enough to cloak him as another hero, or perhaps camouflage him so that the teachers couldn’t see him. 

On his fingers, he started listing off the pro heroes who worked at UA. The ones that could possibly detect him, Ectoplasm and Power Loader, didn’t work in the heroics department. Power Loader, however, was a technology developer and could possibly have sensors that would pick him up. Ectoplasm he wasn’t completely sure of, as he had limited knowledge of the fog that made clones, and how much he could detect with it. Even so, he could make at least a dozen copies of himself to patrol. And while the others couldn’t tell with their quirks, decades of experience might be enough for them. 

Screw it. He could attempt the cloaking, at least, and then make it through the gate. It didn’t take long to activate, either, and it would last until he could make it inside. That should be enough. And part of his quirk entailed a temporary power source, so he may even be able to give it enough power to get out, if it worked.

His thoughts once again strayed to the staff. Hound Dog could possibly sniff him out, but he could get away before the hero picked up the scent. Even then, he might think it’s just a student, but Deku didn’t get his hopes up. Hound Dog might be impulsive, but he wasn’t an idiot. Like most of the heroes here, he had plenty of experience hunting villains.

Once he approached the gate, though, he was a little unnerved to find it locked, but easily accessible. The gate was practically allowing him in without even doing anything. It was programmed to let students and identified visitors through, but they had to have a special ID to allow them entry. He looked once more to confirm that his suit still had him cloaked, then up at the cameras. Surely they had infrared, and could see him.

Scrambling the rest of it took less than a second, a short enough time that hopefully any cameras wouldn’t show a shift in his balance. He’d heard that they upgraded it in the wake of the invasion, but it didn’t appear to show. Maybe Nezu had most of the restrictions bypassed for him. He moved past without a second thought. The gate closed behind him, but he didn’t hear a lock click. There was his escape route.

Deku knew where Nezu’s office was. He also knew that Nezu wanted him to meet in a conference room, not his office, which lacked most forms of technology besides a computer or two. There weren’t even any cameras in there, but a quick check confirmed that Nezu was indeed in the conference room specified. Alone, thankfully.

But as he walked towards it, cursing the sound his shoes made, he found the school deserted. No heroes, no staff. Not even cleaners, which he expected. Had Nezu made them all go home, in wake of his arrival? Did he hold that much faith that Deku wouldn’t attack, or do anything malicious?

Soon enough, he reached the room. A voice called out from inside, “Come in!” Steeling himself, he deactivated his cloak, and opened it. A wall of windows on the opposite side greeted him.

“Excuse me,” he said, out of old habit, and stepped inside with squared shoulders and head held high. 

Nezu sat at the head of the table on the far side of the room, with a light smile on his face and a folder set delicately in front of him. “Good evening, Deku,” he greeted, as Izuku closed the door behind him and settled about halfway down the table—far enough away from the door and Nezu, if he tried something.

“Good evening,” Deku returned, voice warping. He should have checked that before he left the base. Already he did maintenance every time he went out, it should be included on his checklist by now. “What do you want?” He was being rude, he knew, but he wanted this to be quick. In and out, before any lingering hero could pick up that the gate was unlocked.

The principal leaned forward. “Who are you working for?” Nezu asked, the smile immediately receding. “And what do they give you?”

So Nezu desired him on their side. He suspected it from the start, but it was good to have confirmation. If he wanted out of the league, he would have gone already. They didn’t ask much from him, and they gave him much.

“I work for myself, principal. I’m sure you know that many of my clients over the last several months have been heroes.” He set his arms on the table, clasping his hands in front. “And as for what I get out of it, it varies. Favors or protection from certain organizations are worth more to me than a few million yen. And I do not trust you heroes for favors, so money or information will suffice.” 

He was giving out too much information too freely, he knew, but for once he didn’t care. If Nezu wanted to buy his services more than he already was, he’d need more incentive than money. The principal was smart enough; he’d figure it out on his own. And no matter what Nezu offered, he knew he couldn’t switch sides. The league was his safety, and they promised him a quirk in exchange for his services. They had delivered. It was his turn, now.

And not only that, but there was something much more precious that they would take if he abandoned them.

“I see. Then, who is your current ‘client’, Deku?”

“I can’t divulge that information,” he said, almost too quickly. “You know that.”

“But you have,” Nezu said, gesturing to the folder in front of him. “You gave All Might a cypher. It was a fairly simple one, and probably one you came up with on the spot. It took a moment to decode, but I got it. You’re working for All For One, yes?”

“No,” Deku said, knowing that the principal could tell it was a lie. 

“He gave you a quirk in exchange for working with him.”

“I’m quirkless, as I know you’re aware.”

“Were quirkless,” Nezu corrected, because of course he did. “Money doesn’t sway you too much, no matter how you pretend otherwise. That means they must have something else that you want.”

“Like I told you, my clients offer protection–”

“But if you were after a quirk, then you wouldn’t be contacting us, would you? You must have it already and be working towards paying it off.”

“I’m quirkless–”

“Yet there’s something else keeping you there. Some kind of threat. If they’re targeting you or your mother–”

“That's it!” Deku slammed his hand on the table. “You know who I am already. That, I could care less about, because Izuku Midoriya is dead. However, I took up what I do for the health and safety of my mother, and as long as I’m still here, she’s protected by me. No matter what you heroes offer me or her, know this: we are perfectly fine without your intervention. And if you really wish for my well being, as well as the well being of civilians, you’ll stay out of it entirely.”

He paused, and settled back in his chair. “That was out of line. And I’m not here to discuss this, so what do you want?”

With that, Nezu coughed politely. He almost seemed to be expecting the outburst. His paws settled back on the file.  “I apologize. I’m sure that’s enough for you, yes?” But his voice wasn’t directed at Deku. 

Almost alarmingly quickly, he figured out what was going on.

Right as the UA teachers were coming through the door.

“Heroes?!” 

Izuku jumped to his feet, a hand immediately flying to his knife. “How? I didn’t see anyone—no, no, you lied to me!” He scanned the heroes quickly. Midnight, Ectoplasm, Vlad King, Eraserhead, Cementos. No All Might. None of their quirks were active, yet they were all on guard.

The principal got to his feet, and his attention snapped back over to him. “I brought them here because I would like you to see that we will not harm you, Midoriya, and they would like to know what your motives are. If you attempt to run, they will bring you back, yes, but if you work with us, you will be safe. You will not be reported to the hero commission. And whatever hold All For One has over you, we can help you remove it.”

“No,” he said immediately. “You don’t know anything! I don’t believe in you ‘heroes’, and I know you; you’ll go back on your word in an instant!”

He should have known that he shouldn’t trust these heroes. There was no hero he would be able to trust, and yet he’d decided to listen to one. And see where that got him.

All those years ago, he trusted All Might, and that got him nowhere. He’d trusted a hero with the most raw, earnest part of himself, and it had been crushed into a million little pieces. Only recently had he been trying to pick those shards up and glue himself back together, but now the fragile seams had broken again. 

“You’re just like villains, you know that? You lie, cheat, and exploit what I told you in confidence, Nezu, just so I’d let my guard down. Do you feel proud of yourself? That you brought the hacker Deku down?”

The patient, understanding look on Nezu’s face was infuriating. The animal knew, he knew, and that had been Deku’s undoing.

“Tell me!” He pulled his knife, pointing it at the principal. “You won’t get anything about my clients from me, so you might as well stop asking! I’ll die before I tell you!”

The words came out of his mouth, but he floundered, almost detached from his line of reasoning. When had he become this protective of the League, people who care nothing for him? He’d never done this before. This wasn’t like him. What was going on?

“Midoriya,” Midnight started, but he cut her off immediately.

“No! You…you don’t get to call me that, shut up, shut the fuck up!” He pointed the knife at her, acutely aware of the tears blurring his vision. “You don’t get to try and treat me like I’m somebody when it’s already too late! If you wanted a chance, you should have taken All Might’s place years ago when he told me that I couldn’t do anything!”

The data, he reminded himself, chest heaving and breaths shallow. He had the data he could release. Without Eraserhead’s quirk activated, he could upload that data to the internet and get it spread to every news platform out there. He could do that. With any luck, the heroes would think he passed out. He could end them.

But that young, kid part of him refused.

“What did the commission tell you about me, huh? What orders were you given?”

“Deku.”

His vision refocused. He had backed away, almost to the windows, and Nezu stood on top of the table in front of him. The chairs were pushed away from where he’d been sitting. He hadn’t noticed that he stumbled away.

“Whether you believe me or not, we do not wish to harm you or bring you to the police. The commission has agreed not to do anything as long as you do not interfere and release data that they hold.”

“And what if I say no?”

“Then we let you leave,” Nezu said plainly. “But be aware that the next time we meet, it will not be as friends.”

Deku laughed, almost psychotic. “You expect me to believe that-” He hadn’t even realized that the knife was pulled back, close to his chest. He didn’t do that.

I didn’t do that.

The knife was raised by his own hand, up to his neck.

I didn’t do that.

“Midoriya!” someone yelled.

But I did.

Eraserhead’s capture cloth was around his arm in an instant, pulling his hand away. A hero, he didn’t know which one, was at his side, restraining him. When did that happen? 

What was going on?

Seconds later, he was on the floor, gasping for air. His vision wasn’t obscured by sensors anymore, and it felt like fresh, clean air was entering his lungs. His vision was blurry.

A figure knelt above him, with a hand on his chest.

Deku closed his eyes.

He felt warm.

Chapter 14: Calm Before

“Kid. Wake up.”

Izuku scrunched up his eyes, turning his head to the side. Light was assaulting his eyes. “Five more minutes, Kurogiri.”

“You’ve been asleep for a full day, Midoriya. Get up.”

He groaned, sleep still clinging to his bones and weighing his body down under the covers. The voice speaking to him didn’t quite sound right, but who else would be in his room besides Tomura? And it didn’t quite sound like him either. Had they called in someone new? If so, why would they be in his room, of all places? 

But wait.

He didn’t remember making it back to the base.

Not only that, but why would they know the name Midoriya?

And that only left one option.

He hadn’t made it back to the base.

And despite everything he’s done over the last several years, from the few times he ended up drunk to the nights he stayed awake until his body shut down, his memory had never been that bad that he had forgotten. 

Shifting onto his side, he shoved himself upright. He was right; this wasn’t his room. Instead, he was perched on a couch, with a blanket over him and a pillow underneath his head. As he moved, the blanket slid off his shoulders. He was still wearing his suit, Deku discovered when he looked down, but the cloaking piece was no longer heavy on his back, and his helmet was certainly missing. A lot of the parts still weren’t attached—his gloves were off, and most of the wires connecting some of the electrified pieces were displaced.

“Deku.”

Eraserhead. 

“You’re supposed to be out of commission,” he voiced, turning over. He met the hero’s eyes, and sat up, quickly. The hero was there when he met with Nezu, he remembered, but hadn’t quite pieced it together before. “Shigaraki’s decay works better than you look. How’d you manage that?”

There was something unreadable on Eraserhead’s face. “We have a healer on staff for emergencies. She looked you over, too, and her quirk is better than whatever you could throw at us.”

He brought a hand up to his throat, half expecting to feel a line of scar tissue. There was nothing. “Believe me, I’m fine. I don’t need heroes trying to keep me alive.” They had saved his life, but they were the very reason he was in danger in the first place. They didn’t deserve his thanks. He didn’t care.

Izuku tried to convince himself of that, anything to cover up the stab of betrayal that they’d tried to kill him to cover it up.

Why had that happened? True, the fact that he was cornered by heroes was enough of a factor for his employer, but that didn’t explain the control that All For One had over him. He knew there were some kind of strings attached to his quirk, but he didn’t really think that it was all part of whatever it was originally. All For One may have strengthened the quirk, somehow, but also added something more sinister to control him. Could that ever be removed? He didn’t think so, unless All For One was defeated. But then why could he not feel that heavy presence normally?

“Evidently you do, because otherwise you would not be here.”

“And you’re the reason I’m in this situation in the first place. So forgive my rudeness when you heroes are nearly the cause of my death.”

The hero opened his mouth to argue, but Deku shut him down just as quickly. “No matter what you think, that wasn’t me. I have no interest in bringing this up with you.”

To his surprise, Eraserhead did, indeed, drop it.

“Where am I?”

“Someplace safe.”

Vague as ever. He wasn’t sure what he expected. The hero didn’t seem inclined to attack him, but wasn’t overly friendly either, not that Izuku could remember a time where this particular hero was. From his own analysis, the hero was cold, but fair. Not emotional, but unlikely to let anger get the better of him. 

He wondered how much prodding it would take for the hero to snap.

Uncertain, but feeling safe enough to do so, Deku turned to scan the room. An apartment living room, clearly. Not quite lived in, but not new, either. There were no pictures lining the walls, or propped up on furniture, but there were several small plants on small tables, and a half-empty bookshelf off to the side. 

This didn’t seem like someone’s home, but it wasn’t completely bare. There wasn’t any dust, but it didn’t seem used, or lived in. It was somewhere between abandoned and a place owned by neat freaks. He couldn’t explain it. 

There was nothing familiar about the place, and as he looked, he spotted a camera or two in the corners. It was monitored, so it must be some kind of safehouse. Possibly for the hero commission, then. But that didn’t explain why he was unbound.

Well, not quite. With a hero close by, it wasn’t like he was completely unsupervised. And so far, they may or may not believe the quirkless story, so they put a hero with him that would be able to block his access if he attempted to use his quirk.

“Clever,” he spoke aloud, “using a capture hero to keep an eye on me. I wonder what they’re going to do with your students.”

The hero stayed silent, probably to keep from revealing more information, and Deku knew that answer anyway. He pressed on. “They could have picked anyone else, and they picked you. Kinda pointless for a guy with no quirk.”

“We aren’t convinced of that yet,” Eraserhead replied, as if expecting the comment. “And those marks on your face prove otherwise.”

That made no sense. All his life, Izuku had been one of the most ordinary, plain faces that anyone could see. He had no qualities that drew attention, nothing that would give the fact that he actually had a quirk away. The hero must be lying, like they always did. 

“What marks?”

“The green marks on your face,” was the reply, direct and matter-of-factly. “You can’t hide those with your helmet off.”

“I don’t have marks,” Deku said, bringing a hand up to touch his cheeks. He couldn’t feel anything different as his fingers trailed over his skin. Just a few bumps, a small scar he’d had for months, and the unmarked skin where he knew his freckles were. “I never have. So if there’s anything there, it’s something you heroes did.”

“None of us have quirks able to do such a thing, and you know that.”

He did. The heroes at UA had no such power. But his own quirk didn’t affect his body, at least not beside removing his consciousness and putting it in that computer abyss. He didn’t change physically, and he knew that from the cameras he placed when he used his quirk in public. And the only other thing that had happened in between the last time he looked in a mirror and waking up with the heroes were the incidents with All For One. He knew that voice from somewhere.

But All For One’s power had a red hue, from the little he’d seen. And Deku’s own was green, so perhaps they had combined, in some way. That was a scary thought. It meant that his power was not his own, and instead borrowed, with dangerous collateral to make sure he didn’t go anywhere. It would make sense, but his young self hadn’t dared to consider it. He didn’t know anything about All For One’s quirk. Why would he?

“They appeared shortly after you started threatening us. You must have some kind of stockpiling quirk. One strong enough to let you get away, at least.” Ah, so that was it. The heroes thought he was gathering power to make a run for it.

Deku ignored the statement, stood up, and patted down his pockets, not surprised to find them empty. “Where’s my phone?” And his flashdrives, and every other piece of machinery he’d added to his suit. “And everything else?”

“Confiscated,” the hero said, “until we’re able to figure out what you have on it.”

“Nothing you’d be able to read, I assure you,” Deku shot back. “Your principal said you wouldn’t keep me here.” Even one of his weapons was unattached, which was mildly surprising when it wasn’t designed to look like a weapon in the slightest. He didn’t use it much, either. It was his last resort, but that didn’t mean he liked having it gone. 

“A precaution, nothing more. We are dealing with a villain that potentially has all of our classified information.”

“And me having that information is a precaution, nothing more,” Deku mimicked, and crossed his arms. “After all. I’m meeting with heroes. If I don’t have something on them, I’m walking in blind, aren’t I?” 

“Is it that difficult to ask you to trust us?”

“Is it that difficult to believe that a villain wouldn’t trust a hero?”

In the ensuing silence, Deku took a few steps away, to the table he spotted his stuff. He picked up his helmet, left on a table nearby. Luckily, most of his gear was there too. It was a little easier to breathe comfortably when Eraserhead couldn’t see his face.

That seemed a little counterproductive, with something over his face. Maybe it was his stupid anxiety that he still hadn’t managed to get rid of.

“Here,” Aizawa said, and when he turned, tossed him back his phone. He fumbled to catch it, and, after a brief inspection, pocketed it. “Nezu said he’ll get the rest of the data back to you shortly.”

“And my knife?” Deku said, knowing he wouldn’t get it back. The sheath was hanging decisively empty, almost heavy with nonexistent weight. He knew the answer before Eraserhead opened his mouth.

“Confiscated.” 

“Of course,” he muttered. “Not like I need it or anything.” 

He didn’t need his knife, not really, but it was convenient to have on hand. There was rarely a moment where something actually bad happened—most villains left him alone once they found out who he was, and the thugs were smart enough to not attack someone in a suit like his. Even though villains often dressed like him, it was too great of a chance that he was a hero undercover, like Eraserhead had been in the past. But it was still a good deterrent for those that didn’t have the usual half a braincell. 

Trying to busy himself, he checked his systems, and put on the rest of his gear. Nothing appeared broken, or out of place. His scanners worked as normal, and the diagnostic returned nothing he needed to repair. Even the cloaking tech, which he didn’t have any faith in, once he tested it, was working just fine. Most of his suit was built more for intimidation and mobility than actual combat. Toe to toe with an actual hero, he didn’t stand much of a chance.

“Your quirk,” Eraserhead said. “Some kind of hacking ability.”

“You’re wrong,” Deku said, tightening his gloves around his wrists and connecting the armor plating, “but I’m curious to see where this is going, so go on.”

“You leave your body unprotected while you activate your systems.”

Was this about his alias, when he took the entrance exam? Was Eraserhead not certain if Izumura Shigaraki was Izuku Midoriya? Had Nezu not told him?

“No,” he said simply, deciding to play along. “Get me a computer and I’ll be able to get into anything, quirk or no. You have to be alert when you’re surrounded by villains who want your head after they double crossed you and didn’t get away with it.”

The hero nodded, like that confirmed something he had been wondering. Deku was sure Eraserhead knew; he was the one who often went undercover or underground. “I’m told you’ve got your eye on one of my students.” 

“Someone with my talents is bound to catch the attention of my employers. It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen, because then I’ll be out of a job.”

“But you’re familiar with him.”

“We’ve met online, yes. Hard not to, with his ability.”

“You’re more powerful than he is.” It was phrased like a question, but Aizawa said it like a statement. The hero wasn’t sure. And Deku won in a duel against himself.

Deku shrugged. “Who’s to say?”

Click.

His head whipped around to face the apartment door. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

“Just the lock,” Eraserhead said, as if it decreased his anxiety at all. “You may go.”

“Wait,” Deku said, frozen. “Just like that? No catch, nothing?”

“No catch,” the hero nodded. “But Nezu asks that you consider staying here instead of where you’ve been. If you’re willing to work with us, he will keep you safe.”

He shrugged, and moved around the couch, away from the hero. “Sure. I don’t see my employers being brought down, but I appreciate the offer.” It wasn’t a total lie, but he didn’t trust it. Years of his line of work had made him paranoid, especially with this new knowledge that All For One gave him his power with invisible strings attached.

“Think about it, Midoriya.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He threw open the door, and was pleasantly surprised to see nobody waiting for him. “I’ll be seeing you, I’m sure.” After he found his way around whatever building he was in. Already he was bringing up maps in an attempt to find where he was. 

“Then, Deku. Stay away from my students and stop giving data to villains.”

As he left, Deku looked back. “We’ll see.” And he ran. The building, after all, was not too difficult to navigate, and he found his way up to the roof, in order to travel quickly. He was still in the town close to UA, but it was midday. Someone dressed like him would draw attention.

When he was at a safe enough distance, he found a small but secure enough alleyway to hide in. Izuku hunkered down behind a dumpster and yanked off his helmet, staring into the visor. His reflection was warped, but it was enough to see the glowing marks that ran down the left side of his face. Those were certainly new.

His fingertips trailed down it, stretching almost onto his neck. The faint glow came from under his skin, in patterns that he recognized from the computers he worked with daily. He scrubbed his hand across his face. The marks didn’t change. If anything, the growing red in his pale skin made them stand out more.

How would he explain this to the league? They might believe him if he said his quirk went haywire, unless All For One said something. He contacted them so little that it was possible Deku would be able to get away with it. Though, he supposed, they didn’t really care enough about his wellbeing to ask aside from a snide comment. But Tomura was still bedridden, and Kurogiri barely asked questions. The only person who might ask questions was his boss. And he hoped that they wouldn’t have that conversation.

It didn’t change the fact that no matter how he looked at it, they had tried to get rid of him. He was valuable, sure, but not enough to risk him being handed over to their enemies. Amd Deku hated it, yes, but he understood. As much danger as he was in, he would return to them.

Shortly.

He needed another conversation with someone before he’d fully make up his mind.

The next time he entered cyberspace, he noticed a few red lines of code scrolling, far off in the distance. It wasn’t made up of any symbols he recognized; no language he knew. It looked more like hieroglyphs than anything else. But Deku couldn’t access it, no matter how much he tried. It leered at him tauntingly as he went back to work. 

Kurogiri saw his face later that night. 

He didn’t ask.

Chapter 15: The Storm

Notes:

Merry early Christmas! AO3 was down today so instead of reading fanfic I made myself write it instead.

And just like that, nothing changed.

All For One never contacted him, nor did Deku attempt to reach out. The radio silence made him nervous, but it wasn’t as if that was unusual. It was just his anxiety settling permanently in his stomach. Nothing good would come of crossing him, he was sure, yet there were no consequences. Kurogiri handed him his tasks, and he completed them without incident. His studies were going well. The heroes had kept their word.

Most importantly, his mother remained safe, and that was all that mattered. He’d taken the time to observe the apartment for a few days, and she was still coming and going with Mrs Bakugo. She was okay.

But school was school, and the sports festival was upon them, among the mountains of other homework that he definitely didn’t attempt to look up the answers for. Despite Izuku being allowed to continue distance learning, he was told to partake in person. 

As much as he hated it, it made sense. Even Nezu couldn’t change that. In fact, Nezu reached out to him personally and asked him to participate just like he did at the entrance exam, with his appearance altered. Since he was a part of the hero course, he wasn’t technically supposed to have support items, but since his quirk was useless without devices, he was allowed to have them and distribute them among students as he wished. It was much like the support course students, who were allowed to bring anything of their creation, but he was allowed to use that which let him use his quirk. Luckily, he didn’t need much, and most of it he had on hand already.

Now that he was thinking of it, even the support course students weren’t allowed to pass out items that might hinder their opponents, as far as he was aware. Maybe that was just one of the advantages to dealing with the devil.

So, bright and early the day of, he visited the user with the disguise quirk to match his appearance to that of his entrance exam, and made his way to UA. He brought along some of the gear he used as Deku, modified slightly so the teachers shouldn’t notice a similarity. If Nezu was going to keep his secret, he wasn’t going to reveal it so easily. In front of a crowd wasn’t exactly where he flourished, but it was suitable enough. He would adapt. 

This was, after all, required. He’d been out of school so long that he was out of practice. He couldn’t say the prospect of going back thrilled him, but there was still something he thought long buried that gawked at the sight of UA, coming over the hill.

Can you see it, mom? I made it. I did it, like I always said I would.

He shook it off, and kept walking. 

Nezu was waiting for him at the gate, where students in uniform were already walking through. Deku wasn’t dressed the same as them; Nezu had already assured him that they’d provide the gym uniform for him before the festival began. There were stares already, which he expected, but still felt goosebumps under his skin. A new student on the day of the festival was unheard of.

But, without any glances at the students around, Nezu handed him a folded uniform and gestured for him to follow. He did, after brushing a few pieces of fur off the blue fabric. He’d wanted this for years, and it was all he could do to stay calm and ignore the eyes on him.

“Why haven’t you told your teachers?” Deku voiced after a few minutes of silence, once he was sure that the students around wouldn’t hear him. He’d been wondering about that since their last conversation. “I thought I was a security risk.”

“I thought it better that they assume you are two separate people,” Nezu replied quietly. “There’s no trail connecting you aside from your words. They’re suspicious, of course, but most believe you’re distantly related at most.”

“My name-” Deku started, and was cut off. As always, it seemed like the principal could read his mind. Their student having the same last name as the villain who attacked them, especially with a name like the one he was given, was not going to be easy to sell as a coincidence.

It did mean ‘death’, after all.

“I managed to convince them that Izumura Shigaraki was safe, and not working with Deku or All For One. But I don’t believe that your classmates will be convinced as easily.” Nezu moved quickly, stepping just ahead of him. “They’re a suspicious group.”

“Good to know.” Bakugo and Todoroki, for sure, would not be as easily convinced. He barely knew enough about the rest of his class to make an assumption. Observations only took him so far, and Nezu knew them more than he did. If the whole class was suspicious, how would he be treated? 

If it was like Aldera, he could handle it. It was only for a day, after all. But here they had quirks, proper, heroic quirks that could do a lot of damage. What if they managed to break through his illusion?

The principal cut off his thoughts before he could spiral. “And here we are.” Nezu gestured toward a small crowd of what looked like not only the hero course students, but the support and general education students as well. “Your class is waiting with the others to be led to the start. We should begin shortly, but you’ll have some time to chat and let them get to know you.”

Deku nodded. “Thank you, Nezu.”

Nezu held out his paw, and he crouched down to shake it. “I’ll be going. You should change into your uniform and go.” And then he was gone, vanishing into the crowd, leaving only a few pieces of fur on the ground as the only indication he was there in the first place.

So, deciding to take his advice, Deku shouldered his bag with all his supplies and went to find the nearest bathroom.

Freshly decked out in his slightly less-than-comfortable gym uniform, he stood a ways away from where the class had gathered, with some of his gear already strapped on and ready. His quirk was nothing more than a small hum in the back of his mind, with his phone safe in his pocket and ready to be used. He had a bag slung over his shoulder with the earpieces his class had grown familiar with, but had yet to hand them out. Nezu assured him earlier that it would be his responsibility to get to know his schoolmates.

As he waited, unsure of how to approach his class, two people noticed him first, staring, and they wandered over. A short girl, and a taller guy. Uraraka and Iida, his mind supplied. Tenya Iida, brother to Ingenium, and Ochako Uraraka, with a zero-gravity quirk. He hadn’t looked into them much, with the million other things on his plate, but he knew a little.

He probably should have paid more attention to them in class.

“Hey!” Uraraka greeted brightly. “Are you from the support course?”

He supposed that was how it probably appeared, with his bag full of gear and, of course, the fact that they didn’t recognize him. 

Iida beat him to it without even giving him a chance to open his mouth. “They’re in another area,” he said, firm but not rudely so. “The hero course students are gathering here. Might we escort you over there?”

Deku clutched at the strap of his bag, uncertain how to handle this. He wasn’t used to speaking with people his own age, outside of his job. If he spoke like Deku did, his credibility would go out the window, as would their trust. They’d met Deku before. They hadn’t met Izumura.

“No,” he muttered. Then, louder, “I’m in the hero course. My name is Izumura Shigaraki.”

This sparked a reaction. Those that were close enough to hear turned to stare. He could feel their judging gazes, the same ones he felt daily at his middle school. Sizing up the new meat, prodding for chinks in his metaphorical armor. Searching for weakness. 

As Deku, he was used to this. He stood tall and proud, face covered by a helmet and the shake in his bones little more than a small twitch here and there. But at UA, out in the open, with his, albeit fake, features uncovered, he felt once more like the quirkless kid of Aldera. His head bowed, unused to the judgement. He’d misjudged how well he’d handle this. It was different when he was hiding behind a screen or a mask. It was different talking with heroes. People his own age were practically a different species with how difficult they’d always been to communicate.

Uraraka let out a slight gasp. “Oh, Shigaraki! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that was you!” She stuck out her hand without missing a beat. “I’m Ochako Uraraka, it’s nice to finally meet you!”

He waited a moment, then released his grip on the bag to meet hers. “Likewise.” His palms were sweaty. She didn’t comment.

Iida also offered his hand. “It is good to finally meet you in person. I did not expect to see you here,” he said formally. Deku almost rolled his eyes, but restrained himself. It’d be more than a little hypocritical. “Welcome to UA.”

Deku shook his hand upon releasing Uraraka’s. “Thank you. I don’t get many opportunities to come here.” 

‘Many opportunities’ presented themselves as his under the table deals with Nezu. But that was something they didn’t need to know about.

“Why don’t you join us in class?” Uraraka asked, tilting her head. Of course, he’d picked up on this curious behavior from her. “Surely you could learn better in a classroom than on a computer?”

Inwardly, Deku let out a sigh. At least he’d picked up enough of their personality traits to make a few of his classmates less suspicious. He’d never been great with social cues, something he thought had gotten better while he was with the League.

“My quirk works best in the background. Being out in the field just makes me a liability to other heroes,” he parroted. It was the same excuse he gave Nezu at the start of the year, and close enough to what he told his classmates when they first interacted. He’d never be able to officially attend UA while working for villains. “I appreciate the sentiment, however.”

“Might we introduce you to the others before the festival begins?” Surely enough, the majority of the class had now given their attention to their interaction, probably wondering who he was and why his classmates were so invested. Iida gestured towards the group, and Uraraka grabbed his wrist to tug him over. 

Here, he was at a crossroads. Should he play the lone wolf, or attempt to be charismatic enough that they wouldn’t suspect him?

It seemed like the decision was made for him, as he was pulled into the crowd of his classmates. Excited students clamored around him, chattering away with questions about his online schooling and why he hadn’t chosen to attend UA in person. Izuku stood there, dumbfounded, drowning in attention that he’d never received. It felt…nice.

Somehow, instead of embracing it, he reacted badly. Like he had for years before, he drew into himself, quiet and unsure, his shoulders tense and gaze cast to the floor. They were being nice to him, of all things, but he still didn’t like it.

Come on, Izuku. You’re better than this. 

Iida attempted to wrestle back control from the crowd, which he appreciated, and Uraraka stayed at his shoulder, speaking to him softly. It all still drifted around him, like a fog.

“Shigaraki.” A calm, quiet voice interrupted the others. Even Uraraka quieted down, and slightly drew back. Deku pulled his eyes up to Shoto Todoroki, who he’d seen at the back of the group only moments ago. When had he broken away from the others?

“Todoroki,” he replied uncertainly. He had no idea where this interaction was going.

Todoroki observed him for a moment, and then offered his hand, slightly stiffly. He could probably give Iida a run for his money. “Shoto Todoroki, as you know. Good to meet you in person.”

“Yes,” Deku said, and shook hands. “I will just be here for the sports festival, however.”

Todoroki’s expression was carefully blank. He’d noticed how perceptive the boy was, initially, and made sure to be wary of him, but it wouldn’t do well to keep his guard entirely up. That would only make him and Bakugo more likely to suspect him, and he already was certain that Kachaan knew, or at least had some inkling. 

Speaking of, he couldn’t quite see his old friend now, but he’d been around only moments ago. He did tend to stay away from social life, and that was something Deku didn’t mind. At least they wouldn’t have to speak during this interaction, and he wouldn’t get a chance to let something slip.

“Shame.”

Something in him was relieved. Thank God they were equally socially inept.

“Oh yeah!” Uraraka piped up, thankfully saving him from the awkwardness of interacting with a suspicious Todoroki. “Your quirk, how does it work?”

Saved by the bell. He let himself face her, ready to spit out the lies he’d practiced for days in the mirror before coming here. They couldn’t know too much, lest he say something as Deku and that carefully crafted card house come tumbling down.

“It’s…sort of like possession, I guess? I possess technology and just…do whatever.”

Someone else exclaimed, “That’s cool, though! Can you control anything, and is there like a range, or is it just computers and phones and stuff?

Distantly, he felt himself giving an automated response, but his mind was whirring. None of them had quite pieced it together yet, or at least didn’t suspect enough to say something. Todoroki was suspicious. The others accepted him. He was accepted. He was one of them.

He managed to hold out the equipment with shaky arms, and everyone took an earpiece and a ‘battery pack’ that they all readily tucked away. Izuku could use those later, hopefully. Maybe make them short out and shock them, long enough for him to get a head start on whatever they were doing.

Of course, it wasn’t just that easy. Someone stopped in front of him, with his eyes buried in the few remaining pieces of equipment.

“What’s your connection to Deku?”

There it was. The one voice he didn’t want to hear. The one question he didn’t want to be asked.

Deku swallowed, and looked up, forcing his face to be carefully blank. Meeting his eyes without anything in between them was hard, even after the USJ. It hurt that the disdain, the hatred, the burning rage he’d felt only weeks before was gone, and all that was left was a gaping hole in his chest.

“The villain?”

The voice softened, just slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but Izuku knew Kachaan well.

“Yes.”

Notes:

As we dive deeper into the fanfic, I want to make it known that Deku presents this carefully crafted facade to the world. It's what he had when he met All For One, but as he's interacting with heroes more and more he's breaking down and letting those issues be realized instead of just shoving them in a box. Luckily he's got friends now :)

FINALLY I got to introduce them. That took too long. Onto the sports festival!

Chapter 16: The Hero Student

Summary:

The sports festival is upon him! And with it comes classmate suspicion...

“I don’t know what you mean.” Izuku’s heart pounded fiercely in his chest, and his mouth was dry. Still, he kept his shoulders still and untensed.

“You both have computer-type quirks. It’s rare enough already; but both of you? What’s your link to him?”

Wow. Bakugo must really be desperate. He’s usually pretty direct, but it was more explosive or violent. From what he saw in the USJ, he’d assumed that neither time nor his disappearance had affected his old friend, at least not in the way that mattered. Kachaan didn’t care for him after he was diagnosed as quirkless, so why would he when Izuku vanished? 

He couldn’t say that Bakugo’s regret wasn’t sweet to his ears. But it was still dangerous.

“I don’t know anything about Deku. As far as I know, he’s just one of the villains who infiltrated the USJ, correct?” He glanced at the others around, feigning confusion. When they nodded, he continued, “look, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. So.” Biting back a grimace, Izuku offered his hand. “Can we just put this past us and be friends?”

His classmates stared, clearly shocked, but he kept his eyes on Kachaan and his expression blank. At one point, he would have hated himself for this. He was scarcely past that point as is. But to go from the boy he would have wanted to see dead in the dirt to someone he was willingly offering his hand to, something must have changed. Was it Deku? Or was it Bakugo? He wasn’t quite sure. Either one was probably a bad thing.

Bakugo didn’t take his hand. He just clicked his tongue, and turned away, pushing past the rest of his classmates. He didn’t take an earpiece, but Deku was ecstatic that the conversation went as well as it did. And though it took a few seconds for his classmates to gather back around him, they also had lost some of their prior tension.

“Sorry about that,” Uraraka said, and he knew that she meant it. “He’s usually pretty prickly, but we didn’t think he’d actually-”

“It’s okay,” he replied, interrupting her. “I kind of expected this from all of you. Probably should have met you all in person before now, and I’m sorry.”

“That still does not mean he should be rude to you,” Iida said. “As class rep, it is my responsibility to make sure this class does not make you feel unwelcome.”

“There’s no need,” he said, slightly awkwardly. “I’m used to it, at any rate. Please don’t concern yourself with it.”

As he talked, the remainder of the equipment he brought was put back in the bag he held, and he strapped on the rest of his modified gear. When they asked, he cited the rules for the support course students, and that he was allowed to do the same for his quirk.

One student brought up how his voice was more normal than online (he’d managed to make it warp slightly without a voice changer, but they still picked up on how different it was) and managed to convince them that it was a result of practice. It was, technically, the truth. He had practiced to get it to work the way he did, and they seemed to accept that he just didn’t talk to people often enough to warrant it.

Several people asked again why he didn’t attend UA personally. The answer he gave was that he lived too far away and that the route he took would be too far for his family to allow it. They bought that too, and he couldn’t help but wonder if things were going too smoothly.

At some point, staff members began rounding up the students for their grand entry into the main arena, escorting class 1-A to the front. From the entryway, he could hear Present Mic hyping up the crowd with his usual temperament, right as the staff weaving through the rows of students whispered for them to get going.

Right at the front of the group, Izuku set foot onto the UA turf, almost balking at the sight of the crowd that greeted him. He’d yet to actually go to a sports tournament or anything that would put him even close to a crowd this large, and he was expected to perform here.

Mic introduced the other groups, from the other hero course students to the gen ed course and the business students as they all stepped out of their respective entrances to gather in the center, where there was a raised platform with a podium where Midnight was standing, whip in hand.

“And now,” she announced, “the introductory speech!”

Izuku grimaced, and looked away from the stage. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who thought that maybe the R-Rated hero should not be doing the welcome speech for a bunch of teenagers.

“Someone should talk to Miss Midnight about what she’s wearing,” Kirishima said, his cheeks faintly red. 

Kaminari nodded next to him, also sporting the same blush. “Yeah, that costume should come with a warning.” 

“Is it really appropriate apparel for a high school game?” 

Letting out a breath of relief, Izuku very pointedly ignored the reactions of the rest of his classmates and the other students that were speaking far too vulgar for his taste.

“Silence, everyone!” Midnight cracked her whip to the side, which made the majority of the student body obey. Deku couldn’t help but think that she looked rather angry for the occasion. “And for the student pledge, we have Katsuki Bakugo!”

The only person who didn’t seem surprised by the announcement was, in fact, Bakugo, who pushed past Deku and his classmates without a single word. Muttering sprang back up, mostly aimed at the hero course students, among the dirty looks thrown their way. Deku was probably the only one who wasn’t really surprised by the animosity, but he did agree that it was probably Kachaan’s fault they felt that way. 

Silence fell across the arena. Bakugo waited, patiently, for the talking to simmer down before he opened his mouth. 

“I just wanna say,” he said, slower than he usually spoke, “I’m gonna win.”

For a moment, people were quiet. All Izuku could do was let out a big sigh before the students behind him burst into yells.

“Why would you be so disrespectful?!” Iida exclaimed, stepping out of the crowd as he did so. “You’re representing us all!”

Bakugo barely turned back around. “Not my fault you’re just stepping stones to my victory.”

Sighing, Izuku just shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what he expected, but it was so painfully Kachaan that he really didn’t have any words. The rest of the class clearly just wasn’t used to his antics, because they were still surprised when he pulled something like this. It wasn’t quite confidence, because the old Bakugo would have laughed while saying that.

It was still just like him to drag the rest of their class into his mess. 

Ignoring the rest of the students who were still clearly moments away from rioting, Midnight flipped her whip over her shoulder and announced the choosing of the first game. Instead of lots, like they usually did, they had a virtual wheel, like a slot machine. 

A sudden thought struck him that maybe he could mess with it. He dismissed it just as quickly in case it got him in trouble. Among the rest of the students, they watched and they stared as it slowed to a stop.

There were a few other interesting selections, but the arrow finally settled on an obstacle course. Of all the things they could have picked, it was an obstacle course?

Glancing at his classmates, he wasn’t surprised to see that none of them seemed to share his sentiment. Of course, they all had physical quirks that could handle the brunt of whatever UA would throw at them. He was the only one at a disadvantage here, at least when it came to the hero students. The general education course, though, all held the same disgruntled looks on their faces. Most of them didn’t have the best quirks suited for mobility either.

It was possible that some of them would be promoted to the hero course if they did well here. Quirks that worked against humans, and not robots, would be the most likely to advance. But to do so they’d have to demote hero course students. And that, most likely, would be him. 

He doubted Nezu would allow that, but it was still a possibility. It was better to have a villain in a course surrounded by heroes. But he’d have to do well here if he didn’t want to be thrown out. What use would the gen ed course be to him?

“All eleven classes will be participating!” Midnight announced, and Izuku started to pay attention again, “and the course will be around the perimeter of this arena; about four kilometers.” She licked her lips, and not for the first time he rolled his eyes. “Our school’s selling point is freedom. So as long as you stay on the course, it doesn’t matter what you do!”

As the crowd let out a roar of approval, Midnight directed the students to a gate off to the side that, now that she was pointing it out, was more obvious than he’d expected given that Izuku didn’t even notice it upon their entry. The group of students gathered around the massive entryway, waiting while the crowd cheered and screamed. 

Lights at the top of the door slowly flickered off one by one in a visual countdown, and the gate slowly began to open. 

The first test, he thought. The doorway was narrow, and the tunnel beyond it was absolutely suffocating. He didn’t have a quirk to break through it, so he relented and allowed himself to be shoved and thrown around before they were released into the open. Barely anyone could even use their quirks in that tight of a space without injuring one another, and yet that still didn’t stop his classmates.

Todoroki burst through the crowd in an early lead, letting his ice freeze everyone else where they stood. Following him closely were Bakugo (not unexpectedly), Kirishima, Aoyama, and Yaoyorozu, using their quirks to break free and keep running. Luckily, Izuku, along with the majority of his class, didn’t get stuck. They charged right ahead with the skill and confidence using their quirks that could only be obtained from the incident at the USJ.

From the look on his classmate’s face, Todoroki hadn’t expected so many people to dodge the ice. He still kept running.

As Izuku tried his best to keep his footing on the ice, he noticed something else. A tingling in the back of his mind, like a voice was speaking to him that he couldn’t hear. Like a dog whistle, it screwed with his ears, making him stumble and his stride falter. Something was coming. 

A moment later, Mineta was slammed out of the air by a massive robot; one of the faux villains from the entrance exam. Three large mechs appeared in front of them, stalling even Todoroki, the same as the zero pointer robots. Had he picked up on their presence?

That was new.

With his prior experience with All For One, Deku didn’t trust the feeling enough to wonder if it was his doing, or his employer’s. Either one was possible, and Izuku wasn’t going to put it past him to try something on live television. He’d just have to grit his teeth and keep going.

Class 1-A didn’t hesitate when it came down to close combat, and they broke through the mechanical ranks in only a few seconds despite how more and more seemed to appear every moment. Following close behind, Deku snagged a large piece of the exoskeleton, and tied it over his back to continue running, falling slightly behind as he did so. He didn’t know what was coming up, and it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

The rest of the race was slow. With the piece of equipment he stole from the robot, it slowed him down and left other classes and students passing him, but it was his shield, and it worked. It certainly didn’t help when he reached that massive chasm, and he was regretting picking it up by the time he reached the other side. His class had pulled ahead, but he was being left behind. 

Deku grit his teeth, and kept hauling the piece of metal, cursing himself all the while.

The minefield, though, was where it really turned in his favor. The mines weren’t harmful, but they did have potential to be big if there was a chain reaction. Where the students were the most careful was the start, and that meant he had a lot of them to work with to use as a propellant to get to the start.

While everyone now catching up made their way across the field carefully, passing him quickly, he dug, seizing all the mines he could with just enough force that he didn’t actually set them off. Once he had a mound of them, as others were nearing the end of the race, he took the piece he had taken from the robot, and braced it underneath him.

It only took a split second for the mines to set off. Between one moment and the next Izuku was suddenly hundreds of meters above his competitors and hurtling toward the end of the race at breakneck speed.

Maybe he hadn’t entirely thought this through. He’d neglected to figure out the landing, and changing direction midair was nigh-impossible. 

Crap, he thought, watching Todoroki and Bakugo, who had stopped fighting now that he had overtaken them, and were quickly gaining. I’m losing speed.

They were still on the minefield, though, and if nothing else, it could cushion his fall. He was close enough to the ground that it was his only option. And if he couldn’t take back the lead, the least he could do was make sure that neither of them made it in front of him.

He seized the cord hanging loose from the metal plate he carried, and the moment his feet hit his two competitor’s backs, he took every ounce of strength in his body and slammed it down into the minefield. It lit up instantly, and with that he was blasted forward to the other side.

Izuku hit the ground in a roll, barely taking the time to right himself before he was running once more. It wouldn’t take long before Bakugo and Todoroki managed to recover from the shock and follow. They were both faster than he was.

His breath was coming out in short gasps. Attempting to regulate it was doing nothing for him. He hadn’t expended this much energy running in a while, and that was after all the training he’d been doing with Stain. Somehow, this festival knocked the wind out of him in the first round. 

Up ahead, there it was. Another tunnel, just like the one at the start where many of their peers were probably still stuck in the ice. And on the other side was his salvation; the end of this godforsaken race. Right behind him were Bakugo and Todoroki, only a few steps away. Izuku pressed on, forcing himself to move faster. 

Made it to the tunnel. Just a few more steps—

With a sigh of relief, he crossed the barrier back to their starting point, his feet skidding in the dirt as he attempted to slow down. Narrowly almost losing his balance, he stumbled to a stop on shaky legs, bent over.

“And the first one back in the arena is Izumura Shigaraki!”

Kachaan and Todoroki came second and third, and he’d actually underestimated how close they were to him given that it still took a few seconds for them to reach him. Bakugo just huffed and turned away, grumbling, but Todoroki met his gaze as he recovered from the haphazard flight.

“You’ve been holding out on us,” he said, and there was the smallest hint of a smile in his lips. 

Deku shrugged, his shoulders still heaving and chest short of breath. “Can’t…move with my quirk,” he said, wheezing. “Gotta be…a little handy.”

The next round, as the remnants of the students began to file in, was announced to be a cavalry battle. And Deku had been stuck with a ten million point value on his head, with the entirety of the student body gunning for him. As such, nobody wanted to team up. He couldn’t say he blamed them, so instead Izuku approached a few of his classmates in the hopes that they might take pity on him.

His first pick was Iida, but was very quickly turned down for a reason he didn’t much pay attention to. Then, he found his next choices, a good combination of defense and offense of those left who hadn’t yet selected teams. Uraraka, because of her gravity quirk (and maybe he wanted someone he knew a little better), Mei Hatsume, from the support course (he’d seen her in action during the race—she was good), and Tokoyami from his class, with Dark Shadow as their shield. 

Talking out the plan with the others convinced them to follow his lead, and with their cooperation it worked beautifully. Hatsume’s inventions helped them out a lot, and the people from class 1-A who had held on to his gear suddenly found themselves shocked with a high enough voltage to stun them, but not nearly enough to kill. He’d scared himself for a moment after he activated one of them, only to realize that they kept the pack in a front pocket on their chest, and freaked out thinking he accidentally stopped their heart. Thank god it was Kirishima, and his hardening quirk stopped it from being fully effective.

Izuku’s headband did end up stolen in the last minute, and in a frantic bid to get it back they ended up grabbing one worth only a few points. Tokoyami, as it turned out, had managed to get Dark Shadow to snag another one worth several hundred while they were in close. Though it didn’t work out exactly like he imagined, that last headband landed them a spot in the final game. For the first time in a while, Izuku could have cried of pure joy.

Their next game, the individual battles, was just like all the other sports festivals prior. Unluckily enough, Izuku was going first, set against a gen-ed course student named Hitoshi Shinsou.

He’d gotten the chance to observe Shinsou’s brainwashing ability previously, even if he didn’t know how to counter it. That was where Ojiro came in to be quite helpful with the information on how the quirk was even activated. That was probably his main upper hand; he didn’t raise his hackles just because someone tried to provoke him. And nobody truly knew his personality, anyway, so Shinsou wouldn’t even have that to work with. 

Going first for the battles didn’t bother him, either. If he lost, it was more time to just relax and wander through the school he technically attended. Or he could sit with his classmates, and take notes on their abilities and how they used them. The analysis aspect of his work was one of his favorites, and with the amount of time he’d poured into each and every pro hero in Japan, he could safely say that he knew most heroes off the top of his head and could write a full report on how their quirk functioned. 

Shinsou’s quirk, though, seemed to be triggered by a response to some kind of question, and broken either by will or by some kind of interruption of the target’s concentration. But if Deku kept his mouth shut, he’d be alright. When it came down to combat without quirks, he could win that.  

When they finally faced each other in the arena, Shinsou seemed to try the tactic Izuku had expected. He didn’t seem to be well versed in combat, so he stayed away, trying to aggravate him in the hopes that it would stop his advance, and it did not. Izuku made it to Shinsou without any issue, and successfully managed to grab him with a hard enough grip that his opponent couldn’t pull away.

Even as Shinsou kicked and scratched, he wasn’t a match for Deku. Wordlessly, Izuku shoved him out of the arena, and turned away. “Your quirk,” he said, “doesn’t work on people who know how it works.”

After Shinsou was his fight with Todoroki, and he certainly had no way to beat him. But he tried anyway, praying that the glamor of the quirk used on him wouldn’t fade, and knowing that Todoroki was suspicious when scratches didn’t show up on his skin even if he clearly lifted a hand to the injury.

He wasn’t frozen in a block of ice like Sero, but he did get knocked into the far wall, out of bounds. Overall, he wasn’t really upset with how things turned out, but he did say something to Todoroki as they passed each other when Todoroki decided to make sure he wasn’t injured too badly. 

“Your fire is your own power,” he said. “Not anyone else’s.” 

Todoroki didn’t reply, but his walk was a little more stiff when he left the area.

Notes:

The sports festival is more summed up in this chapter than anything. As far as plot goes, it doesn't have any weight. It's just something that Deku went "can I skip this?" and Nezu went "No <3".

On the bright side, he's making friends! And they're having him. Huh. Wonder when that's going to come into play.

Next chapter should be out (somewhat) soon! But we all know my upload schedule so it still might be a hot second

Chapter 17: The Hero Killer

Summary:

The Hero Killer makes another appearance...

Notes:

Longest chapter yet!

And also my favorite...

But I write angst so...enjoy!

With the sports festival now over for him, Deku settled in to watch the rest of the matchups. The whole point of this was to show off their talents in the hopes that they’d get scouted by hero agencies, but he knew his quirk wasn’t particularly flashy. In fact, he hadn’t gotten much of a chance to show it off at all. Most of his obstacles were human, and that was not particularly where he excelled.

The robots, at least, were enough to show what he could do. He didn’t anticipate a work study to begin with, and he hoped that no heroes scouted him. They wouldn’t accept his excuse of needing to work remotely, and he didn’t even have a hero uniform yet, since he’d refused to come in for measurements. It probably didn’t stop their design team from coming up with something, anyway.

Uraraka sat next to him. Her match had already happened, and from the beginning there was no possible way she’d win that round. While her strength was recognizable, it was nothing next to Bakugo. Fighting him only ended in disaster, he knew. He still had the scars to show for it.

Iida’s round had been minutes before. He’d lost to Todoroki with a move that nobody really had been expecting, only seconds from throwing him out of bounds. That put Bakugo and Todoroki as the matchup for the finals, and Izuku couldn’t wait to see that fight. They’d both put on a show.

It took a few moments, but Iida joined them shortly, before receiving a phone call that he insisted he had to take. Never before had he actually stepped out on school, and especially not for a message. His behavior was suspicious. And Deku was nosy.

Instead of perhaps a reasonable solution, like ignoring it and waiting for his newfound friend to come back, he did what he did best, and pulled up his phone to remotely access whatever message Iida was so stricken with. The security he had around it was laughable at best, and it took only a moment of using his quirk to get in. Luckily, he still had an earpiece that nobody really took notice of, and he was able to tap in to the call.

“Your brother…” a woman’s voice said, and Izuku assumed it was his mother, “a villain got him!”

He froze. Ingenium, Iida’s older brother, was one of the heroes that Stain had requested information on. Deku had provided it willingly, knowing that it was likely that he’d be attacked. In broad daylight, though? That was new. By all accounts, this could have been any other villain, but something about him said that this wasn’t normal. 

Stain’s reasons hadn’t been looked into, but Izuku knew enough about the hero. With 65 sidekicks, Ingenium was practically running his own company. He hadn’t necessarily done anything wrong, but a proper hero wouldn’t need that many just to get by. It was commercializing heroes, which the hero killer absolutely hated. Deku didn’t really like it either, but he wasn’t about to go murder a hero just because of it.

Izuku looked back up at Iida when he reapproached, at the expression on his face, at his body language. He was probably going to do something stupid. It’s what Izuku would have done, if his mother had been in their place. Find them, and make them rue the day they ever attempted to hurt Deku.

“I have to go,” Iida said, and he left swiftly, barely giving them a chance to protest. They simply watched him go, Uraraka sitting confused next to him. Of course, she didn’t have the context.

For all of five seconds, he debated telling her about what he found. Then, he shook it off as compromising to his alter ego. A friend after two whole years, and the first one he met, he nearly spilled his guts to. Maybe he needed to keep his mouth shut more.

“What’s that about?” she asked him.

“I don’t know,” Izuku lied. “We can check on him later.”

Setting his phone to alert him to Iida’s new messages, he turned his attention back to the sports festival.

Like he expected, Kachaan won, though he didn’t particularly seem happy about it.

That wasn’t new.

Some weeks later, the other students were happily settling into their internships, and Izuku had not gotten a singular offer. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, and he was relieved that his limited free time wouldn’t become even more backed up if they expected a lot from him. The heroes saw he was resourceful, but ultimately they didn’t really need someone behind the scenes. He’d be better off as a support engineer, which he knew. But the hero course got the most attention, and that meant that their programs were better funded. 

Unfortunately, he was required to do an internship. Luckily, Nezu had extended an offer, and he gladly took it up. Nezu wasn’t technically a hero, but his talents were more well suited to what the principal had in mind.

He kept a close eye on who his classmates had selected. Bakugo went to one of the top heroes, which wasn’t unexpected. Todoroki went to his father. Uraraka went to Gunhead, and the other girls went to various agencies that had agreed to accept UA’s interns. But Iida, on the other hand, went to a hero he had never heard of named Manual, who was based in Hosu. And Izuku knew that he’d gotten better offers elsewhere.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was planning.

Since his evenings were free as of recently, Deku suited up and took to the streets, traveling almost two hours just to get there without alerting Kurogiri (thankfully, only around thirty minutes from where he set up camp in the apartment he was gifted). The rooftops were the safest for him, so that was where he remained, across the street from Manual’s agency, waiting for him and Iida to head out on patrol.

The hero killer, before now, had killed seventeen heroes and injured twenty-three more beyond recovery. Given that this was his first attack in Hosu, he would attack at least three times more before moving to another city. This was well known, well recognized from the news reports that ran across the country warning civilians about him. And for someone whose work relied on getting information, it was frustrating how little else Deku could find and use against him. He had his name, his origin, vague details on what his quirk probably was. With the details on heroes that Stain had requested, and his own analysis of the strike patterns, he knew enough to know where he was likely to go, but not where he was going to be. Stain avoided cameras, had a limited internet presence, and even then that was only used to contact Deku for information. 

What seemed like the moment Iida and Manual stepped outside the agency, a message popped up in the corner of his vision from Kurogiri. Kurogiri didn’t often message him, and it was only in situations where he was needed, or assignments from All For One. For the most part, it was just Izuku asking for lifts when he got into tight spots. 

We have the Hero Killer. How would you suggest contact?

Deku just rolled his eyes. The Hero Killer hated people like Tomura. Whatever happened wouldn’t be good, and it also, at the very least, would not be on him.

He’s more noble than you are. He will not like Tomura, nor do I think it would be a good idea to get him involved with the League. Have fun dealing with that.

There. Let him figure out what that means.

He continued to follow Iida’s patrol, pausing occasionally as the hero stopped to give some kind of lecture. Manual’s comms mic was off (he’d already checked), and though he probably could hack into their phones to listen in, he didn’t particularly feel like doing it. Listening in all the time, while informative, was no fun. And this way he could continue to run across rooftops undisturbed by the stream of chatter in his ear.

They were still walking three hours later, and Deku was tired. Kurogiri had yet to respond, and there was nothing going on around the city, still on high alert from the Ingenium incident. It might be about time to turn in, or ask Kurogiri to retrieve him. There was no way he’d be able to get back to the apartment Nezu had given him with how far away he was, and taking the bullet train was just asking for trouble. Oh, and he needed to pick up something to eat. He’d been forgetting to do that recently.

An explosion probably a mile away made him curse himself for jinxing it. The building he was on shuddered, and he braced himself against the edge to try and steady himself. It, thankfully, did not collapse. He was probably overreacting, but he caught a quick sight of what had to be a Nomu. Of course Tomura was in this city too.

Below him, Manual raised a hand to his ear, and very quickly motioned for Iida to follow. Still keeping an eye on them, Deku watched Iida pause, staring down an alleyway, before splitting off without alerting the hero.

There must be a new victim, then, if Stain was the one that drew him away. Iida ran, and Deku followed close behind. There wasn’t even much of a distance he had to travel, unless you counted his detour because of the wide street that he had to cross. It meant that he only arrived after the first confrontation, with the hero Native on the ground, slumped, and Iida, helmetless, also down, with a sword pointed between his eyes. Frozen.

He hadn’t heard what was going on, but it was enough. Izuku liked Stain and what he stood for, but he couldn’t just watch and sit by while he killed a student. He was just a kid.

“Hero Killer,” he said suddenly, his voice warping, standing on the fire escape above. “Leave this one alone. He’s just a boy.”

The two seemed slightly startled, which told Deku that Stain hadn’t been paying attention. His arrival hadn’t exactly been quiet, but it gave him the time to drop down into the alleyway between them, and raise his arm in front of Iida, like a parent shielding a child. The sword was lowered, but not sheathed.

Grabbing for his knife behind his back, but not yet pulling it out, Deku spoke again. The motion was noticed. “This one is still learning. Trying to kill him now won’t be beneficial to your goal.”

“What are you doing?” Iida hissed behind him. “This isn’t your fight!”

“It is when you both decided to be here tonight,” he announced, slightly louder than he needed. “Stain. Finish off that hero if you must, but I want you out of this city and to leave the kid alone, or I will end our contract here.”

This, it seemed, didn’t sway his teacher. “If you stand in my way, I will purge you too,” Stain warned.

“The weaker one will be culled,” Deku replied back easily. “You’ve said this many times. I may be weaker than you, Hero Killer, but you know when you’re outmatched.”

Izuku pulled and raised his knife, held in a backwards grip just like Stain had taught him. “Releasing your information to the police will not dissuade you, but I’m sure a few people wouldn’t take kindly to being on your hit list. And there are heroes who know my location, which means they can track you too.”

Stain narrowed his eyes. Deku remained still, locked in the stand off. He couldn’t back down here, even as Iida was telling him to get away and the hero watched him cautiously. With every second that ticked by, he could feel his nerves grow. Half of this was a bluff. There was no way he stood any sort of chance against the person he’d been sneaking out to train with.

He wouldn’t say that Stain was a terrible person. Hours, days spent with him showed enough. But Deku also couldn’t say that he was a particularly good one, either. One couldn’t be a good person and be content with murdering others, even for societal change. But Izuku also wasn’t a good person, so he couldn’t condemn Stain for acting on the impulses he’d long repressed.

“People like you are among those I hate most,” the Hero Killer finally said. “You defend false heroes who have no place in this society.”

“And you are incapable of believing that people can change, especially children. I won’t stand for it, no matter what noble goals you may have.” He took a step forward, keeping his guard up, and curled his other hand into a fist. “So I will take you on if you attack. To keep others safe. Because that is the job of a hero, isn't it?”

For a moment, he waited, with tense shoulders and a tight jaw, for the Hero Killer to lunge. His grip on the knife was possibly just too tight, which hindered movement. He couldn’t help that, so he stayed still, bent his knees, and awaited the attack.

Instead, the Hero Killer sheathed his sword. “Very well,” he said. “You…you are worth keeping alive.” He turned around, pointedly glanced at the hero still on the ground, and said “thank the boy. He is the only reason you still breathe.” 

There was only silence as he walked away.

With Stain now gone, and Iida still frozen on the ground, Deku turned to him, ignoring the hero still bleeding out against the wall. The injury wasn’t too bad, since Iida had gotten involved before Stain could finish him off. He’d recover, though whether he’d return to hero work remained to be seen.

“Tenya Iida,” he began, with as much authority as he could muster, “the Hero Killer is correct. Letting your anger guide your actions will not serve you well to become a proper hero.” It was this much that Iida had to understand. Because if he didn’t, he would never survive.

Iida’s fingers twitched. It seemed the quirk was wearing off. “And what’s it to you?”

“Because taking the wrong path will leave its own marks, and you will not like what they appear as.” As he spoke, the side of his face seemed to burn. Neither of them said another word until the newfound Ingenium was able to unsteadily rise. He was wary, but didn’t attack. That was a good sign.

With Iida up and walking, still injured, it wouldn’t do to have him take the injured hero. “I’ll take him,” Deku said, and Iida did not argue. He didn’t have the strength to pick him up completely, so he directed Iida to take one arm, and he took the other, shouldering the majority of the weight. It was better than the alternative.

He had silenced the radio chatter running through his helmet, so he turned it back on for a moment, long enough to break in and communicate to the ones in the area that he had a student and a hero injured and needed them taken for medical care. There was just silence in response.

“Who is this?” someone said, and it was a voice he didn’t recognize. Then again, it wasn’t like he ran voice recognition to figure out what heroes were speaking. Maybe it was about time he started.

“This is Deku,” he said simply. “I have Tenya Iida and Native with me, both injured by the Hero Killer. I need heroes to meet up to take them.”

There was a pause.

“What happened to the Hero Killer?”

“I scared him off,” Deku replied, “possibly out of the city. These two need medical attention. I will escort them to anyone nearby.”

Someone else came over the line. “Deku, the hacker? What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Let that be my business.” He paused, and took a deep breath. “We are by an alley a block over from the metro station. Tell me where you’re located and I’ll bring them your direction.” The hero confirmed with him where to go, and Deku turned to Iida. “Iida, the heroes are aware. Let’s go.”

The comms remained silent the entire walk over, but the hero still slumped over his shoulder did not. 

“Deku?” he slurred, his chin still low and barely putting one foot in front of the other. Every few steps seemed to cause him to stumble, legs weak. His injuries were more severe than Izuku thought, at his very quick glance. “You…at the USJ–”

“Yes,” Deku interrupted, and tightened his grip on the hero’s wrist. “You shouldn’t have heard of me; I’m surprised. That being said, you’ve lost a lot of blood so I’d recommend you stay quiet and focus on breathing.”

“You’re young,” Native said. “Not an adult.”

“Does that matter?” 

“You’re still a villain,” Iida cut in. “Yet you saved us.”

“I’m more mercenary than villain, but I suppose that’s where I’m classified.” Deku tugged them around a corner, and Iida followed wordlessly. The civilians in the area had, seemingly, cleared out. “Vigilante, officially, since I work with both heroes and villains, but you’re free to consider me whatever you want.” 

He wasn’t quite sure why he cared to give all this information, but he tried to not let it bother him. So what if his tongue was a little loose? Iida didn’t have information that the heroes could use to find him. If he was lucky, it wouldn’t even be passed on because of how dismissive it was. 

Iida opened his mouth to speak again, barely let out anything more than a squeak, and then closed it. Deku said, “That’s enough. We’ll get you two to the heroes.”

Of course it wasn’t that easy.

Waiting for him as they rounded the corner of the meeting location was not only the hero Iida was interning with, Manual, but several others he recognized, and his classmate Todoroki along with Endeavor.

“Shit,” he said under his breath, and his steps faltered.

Iida, who noticed, stopped as well, staring. “Heroes.”

Astute observation, Deku wanted to say but he didn’t.

Izuku had plans. Getting caught by Endeavor of all heroes would upset them, and it was highly likely that where they stood would get him killed. Endeavor didn’t hold back against vigilantes, and there was a reason that those who were taken in by him developed an aversion to fire.

Manual noticed them, and curse him pointed them out to the other heroes. Caught like a deer in the headlights, Deku wanted nothing more than to drop Native’s arm and bolt, but that would only earn him a chase he knew he couldn’t get out of. Endeavor was the number two hero for a reason, and no matter how fast he ran or how many gadgets he used, Deku couldn’t get away. If he did, it would only be pure dumb luck.

“Iida!” the hero called, and took a few steps forward, intent on rushing over. 

Behind his back, Deku released one of his hands holding Native, and reached for his knife. It was mostly a precaution, but he wouldn’t hesitate to take one of his two ‘companions’ hostage if it meant that he could leave. The motion didn’t go unnoticed, and Manual halted, hands outstretched.

“You’re Deku?” he asked, and Izuku nodded. His limbs were faintly trembling, and he tensed to try and stiffen them. He hated instances like this. He hated people.

“I am,” Deku confirmed. “As I said, the others need medical attention. Take them, before Native bleeds out.”

The hero tried to approach again, and Deku let them, transferring Native over and just as quickly taking a smooth few steps back that hopefully didn’t seem as panicked as he felt. He nodded to the hero, and Iida gave him a small bow, thanking him profusely. Satisfied, and more than slightly glad that the other heroes had decided to stay behind, Deku turned around and began to walk away. Somewhere close by, he could make it to the rooftops and lay low until they were gone. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Deku paused, and forced his body to not show the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t turn around either, staying still in a silent power bid, just like with Stain. “I believe I made that quite clear. I’m leaving.”

“You don’t really think that I’d let a villain go, do you, Deku?”

“What I think, Endeavor, is that I’ve done nothing to you or any of the heroes present. I saved these two from the Hero Killer, and I’ve only acted to your benefit.” He took another few daring steps away, and then darted to the side just in time. A ball of fire sailed past where his body had been a moment prior, and then he was running.

“Endeavor, wait-” someone called out, and there was a whoosh of air as, presumably, Endeavor took to the skies to pursue.

That’s a waste of power on someone who doesn’t have a movement quirk, Izuku thought as he dipped into a smaller alleyway that the hero would have a harder time getting through. A few civilians lingered on the other side, but they froze once he emerged, scanning his surroundings before running to the left. Taking to the rooftops would allow him to travel a little better, but it didn’t do much against someone that could fly. If anything, it would just make him more likely to be caught. There were no civilians he could worry about up there.

“DEKU!”

Without warning, another ball of fire struck his shoulder. For a brief moment, all he could feel was a searing hot pain as the flames burned through his uniform like it was paper. It made him stumble, his steps faltering. A hand now grabbing at his shirt, trying to pat out the embers that lingered, Izuku pressed on, not daring to stay put a moment longer. Luckily it mostly struck the metal plate on his back, which he knew might screw with his cloaking tech. A quick glance at his heads up display confirmed that it was offline. There went his one chance at making it out of this situation.

Still running, he passed several starstruck civilians watching him nurse his injured shoulder. He pulled his hand away, slightly sticky and aching, and tapped the side of his helmet.

“Tomura!” he said, praying that it would connect. He didn’t see any indication that it hadn’t. “Tomura, this is urgent, I know you’re in the area. Is Kurogiri with you?”

There was only silence. He smacked the side of his helmet a few more times frantically. “Tomura! Tomura!” When that failed, he tried to connect to someone else. “Kurogiri, are you there?”

Of course, there was nothing. Perfect. Just what he needed when the number two hero was hot on his heels, running through the streets.

“Deku!” Endeavor thundered, and he quickly changed direction in the hopes that he could get Endeavor grounded and chasing by foot. That was the only area he stood a chance. Or possibly get inside a civilian filled building, but that would only be cornering himself. 

Options, Izuku, options. Where can you go?

His eyes very quickly swiveled from left to right and back again, every so often throwing a glance over his shoulder to see how close the hero was following. Finally, yes, Endeavor seemed to realize that following on foot would be easier and less taxing. He had a limit. Deku just had to make him reach it, as if that was an easy task. The only hope here was that Endeavor was blind enough with his rage that he’d overexert himself and leave Deku alone.

Something else was flying behind him, he could hear the beat of wings in the air. Another hero, probably, one that agreed with Endeavor and wasn’t paying attention to the pressing issue in Hosu; the buildings still going up in flames and being destroyed. Deku shouldn’t be a priority, since he wasn’t targeting civilians. 

What seemed like twin blades seemed to tear into each shoulder, and then Deku was being lifted up, caught by the winged creature. He let out an embarrassing squeak, already thrashing. Upon looking up, he realized that it was a Nomu. Was this sent by Tomura, or did it just grab him because he was in the area?

“Put me down!” he shrieked, only slightly relieved that his voice changer was still working as it should. Trying to kick and struggle was only making it tighten its grip. “Nomu, release me!”

It was no use. The Nomus weren’t designed to take orders from him. His only option was to somehow break free and hope that the fall wouldn’t injure him too badly. He still had his knife. Injuring it should be enough to make it let go by reflex.

With his limited flexibility, given how it was grabbing his shoulders, Deku shifted around the talons embedded in his skin to grab for his knife. It was only kept behind his back for storage’s sake, and not at his side, and only now did he regret it, when there were nails digging through his tissue and every movement just made them tear more. But the moment he got a hold of the hilt, he just grit his teeth, prayed for a moment that it would work, and threw up his arm to stab the Nomu in the leg before they were high enough in the air.

Contrary to what he was expecting, it worked. The Nomu screeched loudly, and let him go. The knife, still in its leg, made an unpleasant squelch as it dragged through the muscle down to the foot before ripping free.

There was a building underneath him, but he was still a good twenty meters up from it. There was nothing to do but try to put his training to the test and roll out of it, even with the plating he still had that functioned essentially as armor. Flipping around midair like a cat, he loosened his muscles and braced himself for landing.

He hit the rooftop, felt the shock travel up his legs, and rolled, slamming his arms down either side to help take some of the impact. A few sounds—the crunch of glass, the crack as his helmet split—hit his ears, but he was alive. The training had worked, but it only served to keep him down, sore, and easy pickings for whatever hero decided to take him in. He had to move. They’d find him otherwise.

When Endeavor managed to track his location, all he found was a patch of blood and the shattered remains of the back of his helmet. The rest, still broken but resting on his face, was only a story below from where Deku had managed to drag himself down the stairs, propped up against the column. He could hear the sound above, breathing heavily despite the pain in his chest. Luckily, the hero didn’t look too closely, and left shortly after.

Deku stayed still for a while before he deemed it safe enough to move. Without the use of his quirk, keeping out of the sight of heroes was enough of a challenge. Endeavor, though, had neglected to tell others to remain in the area to catch him as he escaped. 

He dragged himself to the subway to travel just a little closer to his apartment, grateful that it was nearly empty. The people inside would report him, surely, but he couldn’t keep moving too much. As it was, he could barely walk. It was all he could do to keep the broken helmet covering his face, and his bright green hair was still poking out the back. There was nothing he could cover without sacrificing something else. And that detective already knew he was Deku, anyway.

By the time he made it “safely” back to the apartment to clean up and bandage the injuries from the fights, he was limping over what was probably a fracture and his hand held against the thankfully-not-terrible burns on his shoulder. The punctures from the Nomu were still aching, but not deep enough to be worried about. It didn’t hinder his unburned shoulder too badly. They probably didn’t even need to be covered. He’d just clean it up as neatly as possible and leave it exposed to heal. It shouldn’t need stitches.

Some of his tech had malfunctioned, and the cloaking device he’d used previously was all but scrap from the amount of hits it had taken as practically a shield. He shrugged it off as soon as possible so it didn’t spark and potentially burn him more. Right after that came his gear strapped around his forearms, which thankfully were nothing more than scratched. He didn’t carry too much on him at any given time, and most of his useful tech was in the now-broken remnants of his helmet, which he threw to the side. He’d repair that later. After he got some kind of temporary mask to keep his identity concealed.

The edges of his suit were singed, and not for the first time that night he cursed himself for not making it fire resistant. He knew that he’d draw the attention of top heroes, but to be fair he didn’t expect to be right in the nick of things. His quirk wasn’t suited for combat or for chases, and while he stayed out often to watch hero fights, Izuku didn’t expect to stay around long enough for them to notice that he was ever there. 

Deku had more experience looking after burns than he wanted to admit, but even then he still didn’t really know how to look after injuries. While he did many things for his clients, and good at much more, he wasn’t great with medical training. His knowledge was barely better than the average person, and even in this society that wasn’t saying much.

He staggered into the bathroom and removed his destroyed jacket and shirt, tossing them to the floor carelessly. Looking at it in the mirror, the burn wasn’t too bad—nothing he’d have to ask for help with from Recovery Girl. It still throbbed and was a very angry red, but from what he remembered, it wasn’t anything terrible. A cool cloth that he ran under cold water helped a lot. There was a first aid kit left under the sink, but it wasn’t much, and half the stuff inside he didn’t think would be useful. There was a gel that he eyed, but he left the burns alone for the time being. There was no way he’d be able to wrap that with one arm.

His leg was much harder to deal with, since he didn’t even know what was wrong. Surely it would be fine if he stayed off it, right? It would at least get partially healed, and he would be able to walk just fine if he left it alone. The League would probably get on his ass about it, but ultimately they couldn’t do much if they didn’t have a healer, and they certainly wouldn’t like that he was going to the heroes for healing. 

He rolled up the hem of his pants, and grimaced. It was already bruising, an ugly shade of purple and blue blossoming across his shin. Yeah, that was probably broken, but there was no bone coming out of the skin, and he wasn’t crying just from standing on it (albeit with only about ten percent of his weight). That had to be a good sign, right?

This apartment didn’t have any of his normal clothes, and he had neglected to take any with him when he went out. Carrying a backpack while doing vigilante work was just asking for trouble. So, with nothing else, he just rolled his pants back down, and stumbled his way back to the couch, leaving everything else in the bathroom. Sleep should help, but he wasn’t exactly tired. And he was hungry, but he couldn’t exactly leave the place looking like he did.

Izuku glanced over his good shoulder to the small kitchen. If he was lucky, like he was with the first aid kit, it might be stocked with something he could at least heat up in the microwave. Something small, and light. Nothing fresh, but he’d been practically living off ramen noodles and the occasional proper meal at a cafe when he went out to do work. A little more processed food wouldn’t hurt more than he already was.

He groaned. Just the thought of getting up again felt like climbing a mountain. Maybe he was more tired than he thought, if his head was spinning this quickly. Food could wait, at least until standing didn’t make his head throb and his vision practically triple. 

Before he passed out, though, he needed to check his phone. Izuku struggled to pull it from his pocket, and internally cursed when he noticed that the screen was shattered. Just one more thing he had to deal with, but at least the text on the screen was still readable, however barely. He didn’t want to use his quirk for something like this, not right now. Deku couldn’t explain it, but somehow he knew that if he were to dive in, he'd be detected by All For One. That wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation after he’d spent the last few weeks avoiding him.

There were two new emails that had popped up in his inbox. The first was, in fact, from Nezu, apparently having noticed via a motion detector that he had entered the complex (which meant he needed to find and disable it as soon as possible), and was asking if he was all right. The news couldn’t have gotten to him that quickly, so for now the principal couldn’t know of his injuries. It would show up later that night on the news, and then the world would know who Deku was. But that was a concern for tomorrow’s Izuku.

The second email was from a hero agency, introducing themselves and offering him a position among them for a future work study, rather than an internship like his other classmates were doing. It hadn’t been mentioned in class, but Izuku had followed the past few hero classes and noted the patterns they followed throughout the year. This was just the next step, and something he couldn’t get out of. 

This agency, though, he knew. Specifically, the Nighteye agency.

Fuck.

Chapter 18: Inko Interlude

Summary:

We haven't seen another side of this story. Let's go take a look at Inko Midoriya :)

Notes:

Man I'm feeding y'all WELL. Angst readers come get your FOOD.

Also, the only reason this chapter exists now is because my friends voted for it to happen. Blame them. I just wrote it.

In twelve hours.

Overnight.

I'll go take my midterms now :(

Like most Friday nights, Inko felt numb.

Friday nights used to be her and Izuku’s night. It varied, week to week, whether it was a game night or a movie night or simply one where they cooked together in their cramped kitchen, but it was their night. Their night, to simply exist, just the two of them. And it was these nights that the glaring absence in her home was most noticeable.

To fill the void, Mitsuki had been inviting her over late in the evenings to eat dinner with Masaru and Katsuki. She’d occasionally help in the kitchen, but Inko was rarely allowed. Instead, she’d make idle chit chat when Mitsuki forced a glass of wine into her hands, and laughed with Masaru when he made a few jokes. The drink sometimes helped. Usually it didn’t.

Katsuki was normally silent. He only spoke when she asked him a question, and only then to appease his mother, who would smack him upside the head with a newspaper when he was being rude. The loss of Izuku had hit him hard as well, and it was a shame to see what used to be a loud, boisterous boy turn quiet. His personality was still brimming under the surface, but it was always held back and reserved. Sometimes, Inko wondered if her being around was nothing more than a constant reminder. 

The nights she was allowed to cook tended to be the bad days. They were the days where she’d go to work with a heavy heart and spend the day one dropped pen away from breaking down into tears. Those were the days where the moment she got home she crawled under the covers of her bed, and buried her face into her pillow. She never picked up her ringing phone, listening as the call was hung up and started again, heard the vibration of each text going through. From then, it only took thirty minutes for Mitsuki to show up at her door and let herself in with the spare key that used to be Izuku’s to drag Inko out of bed and out of the house. Then, she’d be kept busy in the kitchen, focusing more on the knife in her hands than the ache in her heart.

She didn’t cry as much anymore. One thing that had been shared between her and Izuku was that they were both the same kind of sensitive. They both cried rivers when they were sad, or happy, or so pent up of a mix of emotions that they couldn’t properly express. Over the years he’d been gone (and gosh, it really had been two years already), that tendency had been lost to the throws of time. Losing her son was more than the worst pain she’d ever felt. Nothing else could make her spill tears like she used to except when something reminded her of Izuku.

This Friday, Mitsuki was busy with something else, and wasn’t in town. Masaru had still offered, and said she was welcome to come over, but she declined. The one advantage of her old friend being away was that she couldn’t burst in and drag Inko out when all she felt like doing was curling up and hiding from the rest of the world. Friday night was now her night, but there was still no other way she could spend it but to sit at one end of the dining table, staring at the empty chair opposite her.

Two years hadn’t stopped Inko from setting out a placemat and cutlery out in the hopes that he might come home. Even though he never would.

Alone, she made the food they usually did on Fridays—katsudon, Izuku’s favorite—and took her plate to the table. There was too much food. She never stopped making enough for two.

Today was Friday. They were the worst days.

Inko took a bite of her pork, and wiped away a stray tear. She was hungry, but food didn’t feel particularly appetizing in that moment. It was still her Friday ritual, her little homage to her son, and she’d force it down no matter how painful the memories were. The food still had flavor, still had the taste she once loved, but every Friday it felt like ash in her mouth. 

More tears dripped down her face as she took another bite. The clock on the wall hit seven. Izuku would have been home an hour and a half earlier. 

Emotion still pressed on her lungs, but her chest didn’t feel full of sadness. Instead, she was empty, like a deflated balloon. That’s what she felt like, sometimes. Two years of wallowing were enough for her to drop most of the weight she’d gained raising Izuku. Even Mitsuki said something, worried. Inko was far from skin and bones, but sometimes that was how she felt. Like she was already gone, and piloting a body that was no longer her own. 

She stared at the bowl, quietly, and sniffled. The steam was still wafting off the pork. Maybe she’d already burned her mouth, and that was why it didn’t taste like happier times.

Almost like she’d been expecting for the last hour, a knock rang out from the front door.  Inko dropped her chopsticks, food already forgotten. It wouldn’t be Mitsuki at her door, but perhaps Masaru, or one of her neighbors. They sometimes came over with food and ate with her after work. Sometimes, those meals were all that she’d manage to eat. The company was more than welcome, even though sometimes all she wanted was to sit on the couch and wail.

“Coming!” she called. “Just a minute!”

Inko didn’t care to remove her apron, nor to dust off the flour coating her front, but she did very quickly run to the bathroom to wipe her eyes and pray that she could make it look less like she’d just been in tears. Nothing worked. She ended up pulling her hair down to halfway shadow her face. 

“Apologies,” she said through the door, and turned the handle to pull it open. “Thank you for waiting, M—”

The sight of someone different at her door made her falter. She didn’t recognize the man standing on the threshold on her home, a hat pressed to his chest, and a briefcase in his hand. A somber position, she realized. The position of an apology.

He bowed politely. “Good evening, Miss Midoriya. I apologize for the late hour. I am Detective Tsukauchi from the police department. May we speak inside?”

Her heart sank. Izuku had gone missing two years ago. At the start, she’d been hounded by police and detectives, constantly at her house at all hours of the day and night, asking her the same questions over and over with different phrasing and sometimes an undertone of disbelief when they realized that he was quirkless and she was submitting a police report. Quirkless children were always among those that tended to vanish.

The last interaction she’d had was a year prior, and that was when the chief of police approached her to say that Izuku was declared dead, and that their investigation would cease unless someone came forward or a corpse was discovered. Having a detective here now meant that they must have found his body. 

She still nodded affirmation, and opened the door wide enough to let him step inside. This wasn’t the kind of conversation she wanted her neighbors overhearing, or listening to her wail from the front steps when the detective revealed the worst. 

“I’ve made katsudon,” she found herself offering, attempting to hide the way her voice seemed to want to quiver. “Would you like some?” If he truly was here to break the news about Izuku, she couldn’t stand leaving that second portion to go bad when she inevitably spent the next week locked inside her bedroom.

“No, thank you,” he replied, like he didn’t notice the pain in her face. He stepped into her home, and waited for her to close the door and lead him to the living room. “I won’t be here long.”

Inko tried to put on the bravest face she could muster, and smiled at the detective as if there weren't dried tear tracks on her cheeks and red skin around her eyes. “Please, sit. I’ll make some tea.”

As Tsukauchi took his seat— Izuku’s seat —Inko picked up her hardly touched dinner and bustled off to the kitchen to, like she promised, make some tea. Heaven knows her hands needed something to do while they spoke.

“Is there any preference for your tea?” she spoke from the kitchen, her back to him. She didn’t feel like she could bear to make eye contact.

“No,” the man said, simply setting his hat down on the table. “Anything is fine.” There was a beat of silence, during which Inko could hear him take a deep breath. 

She shut her eyes, clenching the edge of the counter. Here it comes.

“I’m not here by request of the department,” he started, and wasn’t that surprising. Of course the police wouldn’t care to let her know that he was officially dead. “I just have a few questions. To begin, are you aware of the vigilante that appeared in Hosu the other night?”

The sound of the kettle overflowing in the sink broke her out of her confusion. She opened her eyes, picked it up, poured out some of the excess, and placed it on top of the stove. Some of the tension in her body ebbed away, as it didn’t seem immediately like this was about Izuku. Was she in some kind of trouble?

“I have. Didn’t he save a hero from the Hero Killer?”

“He did,” the detective confirmed. “And a student from UA High.” And oh, didn’t that hurt. Izuku’s dream school, the one he’d spent his life praying to get into. She even watched the sports festival this year, and felt herself pretending that she was rooting for a student that wasn’t there.

“What was a student doing, fighting the hero killer?” Inko asked, throwing a glance back at the table. The detective wasn’t looking her way. She looked back at the sink, and watched the faucet slowly drip. Anything to keep her eyes off the man sitting in Izuku’s chair.

Tsukauchi paused for a moment, contemplating. “Well, you’ve heard of Ingenium, the last hero that Stain attacked?”

She hummed in confirmation. “I have.”

“The student involved was his younger brother. This is strictly off the record, you understand, but we believe he wanted revenge. And he would have gotten killed, too, if that vigilante hadn’t stepped in.”

Eyes settled on her back. Instead of calling it out, she said, “I saw the aftermath.” And indeed she had. Someone had managed to capture footage from a high enough building of the vigilante in question, limping down the street with a torn up suit and one hand covering an injury on his left shoulder. The footage wasn’t clear, but the helmet that covered his head also seemed to be partially broken in the back. Dark curls of hair seemed to poke out through, only seen when the vigilante turned the corner toward the subway. There were no heroes around, but it was well known that he’d had a confrontation with them, and the reporter on the scene had confirmed it. “Endeavor tried to fight him, right?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Public opinion of him is…not too favorable, at the moment. Especially since this vigilante fought off the Hero Killer.”

“Yes,” Inko agreed curtly. She’d never particularly cared for Endeavor. “But, detective, might we cut the small talk? I—” She swallowed. “I’d like to know the reason you’re here.”

There was a pause. “Well,” he said. “Does the name Deku mean anything to you?”

And she froze. Deku.

“Yes,” she found herself replying. “It was a harsh nickname Izuku was given by someone when he was young. But what does that have to do with anything?”

The detective bowed his head. “This was never released to the news, Miss Midoriya, but that vigilante that popped up went by the name of Deku.”

She blinked, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Deku?” she repeated, as something else began to fill the grief that constantly nestled in her chest. It was something else, something foreign. Unease.

Fear.

“Let me fill you in,” he told her, and set his briefcase on the table. “I have some files on my laptop you might want to see.”

Leaving the tea abandoned on the stove, Inko stepped toward the table with a heavy gait, like she was walking the steps to her execution. Did she truly want to know about this vigilante who bore the name of ‘useless’? Surely her Izuku couldn’t be the only one to have that name, right?

“You see,” Tsukauchi said, oblivious to her internal struggle, “Deku has been known to the police and the hero commission since about two years ago.”

Two years.

“He’s what we call an information broker, only the information he gathers is stolen from government files,” the detective began to explain, clicking on and enlarging a list of what looked to be data. She could recognize a few hero names in the mix. “Since most of his information is sold to villains, and he’s been seen working with them recently, that’s where his classification sits. This being said, he’s been, as of late, willing to work with us and the staff at UA High School.” 

An image popped up of what was definitely the vigilante she’d seen on the news, showing him perched on one of the walls encasing UA. It was slightly grainy, and seemed to be a screenshot from a security camera, but the subject was clear. “The teachers involved believe he’s interested in a student in Class 1-A, Izumura Shigaraki, because of their similar abilities. In an interview I conducted with him, however, Deku stated that he was quirkless.” He pointed to a small list of timestamps, typed in a notepad window, right next to waves that looked to be an audio recording. “He’s using a voice changer, but if you’d like to listen, these were the parts from our interview where he all but said that he is Izuku Midoriya.” Tsukauchi bowed his head. “I apologize for not telling you sooner, ma’am, but I had to gather enough information to be certain. Your son is alive.”

Somehow, she was still speaking, though her usual stream of thoughts had whited out to static.“The police knew that my boy was alive?” Her voice was shaking. How had they not told her before?

The detective just shook his head. “I have not made any official reports. I happened upon him on the subway, and from there I managed to follow his movements. This was all by chance. I don’t think anyone else has discovered it.”

Behind her, the kettle began to whistle. She startled, very quickly bowed to apologize, and went to pull it off the stove and place some tea leaves inside. Tsukauchi continued to speak while she was rummaging through the cabinets.

“He’s a good kid, Miss Midoriya. I figured that out when I talked to him. So, is there any reason you can think of that he went down this path?”

Truth be told, she did. When he was young, Izuku became obsessed with computers; started taking their own apart to figure out how it worked, watched countless hours and hours of videos on programming and website construction, and even stopped watching villain battles for almost a month while he taught himself coding languages. Then, he’d picked it back up like nothing happened, though she did notice that some of the information he excitedly chattered about shouldn’t have been public information.

Around what had to have been five years ago, Inko had gotten sick. Very sick. She had to go on medical leave from work, and that left their limited savings draining as she tried to scrounge up every penny just to pay for food and rent, let alone her treatment. Mitsuki had offered to help, but what she had couldn’t just be afforded like that. It lasted for weeks until she was finally hospitalized, and she couldn’t rest when Izuku was crying into her hospital gown and their debt must be wracking up.

Amazingly, they’d had a savior. A doctor walked into her room one day to inform her that the bills for her treatment had been taken care of by an anonymous donor. When Inko checked later on, she found that not only that, but money had been deposited in the accounts she never gave anyone access to, and the rent for the next three months was paid off.

She still couldn’t leave the hospital, but she could rest easy when Izuku came by daily, with brighter eyes and a wider smile than she’d seen since the symptoms first started, knowing that he was taken care of and wouldn’t have to worry about being thrown out. And the money never stopped coming, either. Sometimes the times would vary, or sometimes it might be a few thousand yen more or less, but even after Izuku disappeared it would continue to appear. When she couldn’t muster the energy to go to work, that savior was sometimes the only reason she managed to live week to week.

And now she knew where it had to have come from.

Her silence, apparently, was just as telling as her speech. Tsukauchi closed his laptop, and promised to email her the recordings. He set it back in his briefcase, and pushed away the offer of tea, stating that she needed it more than he did. 

The detective collected his hat and his briefcase, and barely waited for her to step out of the kitchen before he headed to the front door. He bowed once again, thanked her for her time, and left, just as swiftly as he arrived. The whole house lapsed into silence, just like how it had been before.

When the door clicked shut, Inko found herself waiting for a good several minutes, her palm pressed against the wood, trying to process and sort out her emotions. Izuku was alive. Injured, but alive. He was alive. Her baby boy was alive.

The remaining katsudon was promptly taken off the counter, and wrapped up to be placed in the fridge before she returned to finish her own food, now cold but more edible than it had been in months. 

After all, there might still be a chance that she’d need that second portion.

Chapter 19: Another Hero

Summary:

Izuku is left to heal from the aftermath of the Hero Killer.

It doesn't go too well, but it could be worse.

It became apparent very quickly that Izuku’s injuries were worse than he thought.

Somehow, magically, his chest had started to ache, as well. Closer inspection revealed the galaxy of bruises going across the right side of his body and down to his hips, which protested when he shifted to make himself more comfortable. His leg, also, had not improved, and the punctures on his ‘good’ shoulder seemed to not want to close. As it was, the scabs were barely there and as durable as tissue paper. He was using his arm probably more than he should, but what else was he supposed to do?

He abandoned the couch after realizing that it was more comfortable to stretch out his arm and let the burn heal instead of scrunching up uncomfortably. Falling off the cushions to the rug was uncomfortable, but necessary, since he couldn’t muster up the energy to sit up properly. He hit the ground with an oomph, wishing instantly that he hadn’t done that. Still, having his arm extended helped, if only minutely. 

A cough he hadn’t managed to suppress wreaked hell on his ribs. It felt like his organs themselves were being squeezed through a tube of toothpaste.

Izuku was cold, with his chest bare and the AC running somewhere in the background, but his shoulder was warm and healing that was all that mattered. The blanket he’d left on the couch the last time he was here had vanished. Among all the other thoughts running through his head, he wondered if Eraserhead had put it away in a closet somewhere. 

Hunger ate away at his stomach. He just buried his face into the rug and ignored it. It usually wasn’t this terrible. Maybe he really was going soft.

Again, his stomach rumbled. All Izuku let out was a grumble. Food sounded really nice, with the way his body was protesting an empty stomach, but he didn’t feel like he could keep it down. Laying there, quiet, and listening to his body protest life with his every breath, Izuku could last a while longer without help. As long as he checked on his injuries when he next woke, it should be alright. They just couldn’t get infected, and he’d be able to handle it on his own. Going to a hospital, no matter how much he paid them for their silence, could not be an option. Just the mere fact that he was alive would be reported, and then he’d have police descending upon him in minutes. From there, it wouldn’t take long before they figured out he was Deku, if they didn’t know already.

His phone vibrated on the floor next to him, and the simple curiosity nearly dragged him upright. He did, however, have enough restraint to settle back down once he felt the change in the fragile scabs over his shoulders. There was no need to bother tearing at his injuries to look at it. By now, his phone had to be nearly dead, anyway. At least he kept a charger in his utility belt, though it was only useful if he could drag his broken body and his shattered device to an outlet. The last thing he needed right now was to spark a fire if his battered devices decided to short out.

Izuku breathed, hating the way it pressed against injuries he was sure he didn’t receive the night before. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, he supposed. That was his only explanation to why his body suddenly ached like he had been run through a paper shredder. His ribs hadn’t even taken the brunt of whatever attack came from Endeavor, so why now was his body protesting the whole excursion?

Click.

That sounded like the lock on the door. When he’d been with Eraserhead, the sound made him jump. Now, it just made him bite his tongue and pray that whoever was there wouldn’t turn him in. It wasn’t like he had a choice, regardless. Deku couldn’t fight in this state. He couldn’t so much as move. Still, he tensed, heart rate starting to speed up, the easy feel of adrenaline rushing through his veins. At the very least, he could struggle, and that was all he could hope for.

The door creaked open, and whoever it was paused. It was dark when Izuku got in, so he couldn’t tell if the place looked like a murder took place. Maybe it had. It was light now, with open windows and the sun beating down on them, but the blinds were halfway closed and even then it didn’t feel like he could see much beyond a certain point.

“Midoriya?” the person called, and Izuku let out a sigh of relief. Eraserhead. At least it was just him.

“Here,” he croaked into the carpet, as the tension immediately dropped from his muscles. Eraser didn’t go after vigilantes often, and they still seemed to have a grudging agreement to leave each other alone. At least it was someone he was familiar with that Nezu sent, because there was only so much mental distress that he could take in a day before something bad happened.

Thank god for the hero’s good hearing, because from one sluggish breath and the next there was someone kneeling to his left, two fingers on his neck and checking his pulse. The hero’s hands were cold, and he shivered. Damn him and his fake concern. Aizawa could have just hauled Deku up with how much he cared. Didn’t mean that he wouldn’t have complained, but still.

“Can you get up?” the hero asked.

Izuku grunted, “no.” For all the snarky responses that came to mind, not one of them did he say. Instead, he so eloquently said, “Hurts.”

“I’ll call Recovery Girl.” The statement left no room for argument, and Deku didn’t feel like trying. Screw the League. If they had a problem with the heroes healing him, they should have helped him out when he knew they were in the city. “Did you wrap your injuries?”

“Y–yes.” Probably badly, but he had.

“I’m versed in first aid. I’ll look you over before she gets here.”

He hummed, and Eraserhead took it as permission. Or perhaps confirmation, because there was no way that the hero cared enough for whatever he wanted. At least his hands weren’t rough, and his treatment of Deku wasn’t terrible as he unwrapped (well, he was cutting it away until Izuku felt the knife on his skin and halfway panicked) his poorly bandaged shoulder to look at the burn. It probably wasn’t the most pressing injury, but what did he know?

“Is there anything else I need to be worried about before I help you up?”

Just the thought of getting up made him groan, but he answered, “My leg.”

“Nothing else?”

“Shouldn’t you have seen the fight on TV?” Before Aizawa could try, he dragged his arms close to his body, prepared to shift his weight and get up. Hiding his injuries wouldn’t exactly do him any good, but it would still probably be bad if the hero saw him as weak.

“Stay down,” the hero said, in lieu of a response. Deku felt a hand settle square in the middle of his back, and he had to resist the urge to shudder. “I don’t suppose you eat much, do you?”

Following the hero’s instruction, Izuku did, indeed, stay down. “When I can,” he mumbled, well aware that it made his situation seem even worse. “Don’t get out much,” he added, like it would make it any better.

“From what I’ve seen, you get out plenty. Now stay still, I’ll go grab the first aid kit.” Obediently, he did so, and Eraserhead ran to fetch the remains of the kit that Deku had ransacked the night before. It wasn’t even half a minute before the hero’s hands were back on him again, still pulling away the remnants of cloth. 

“Nezu?” Eraser said, and Izuku was made aware of the fact that the hero must have had an earpiece. “He’s here, and injured. Send Recovery Girl out as soon as possible.” He waited a beat, then said, “no, it’s not incredibly urgent, but still serious injuries. He can’t move.”

In direct opposition to his statement, Izuku decided that the most intelligent thing he could do was to hoist himself onto his damaged arms, wincing as most of the weight hit his shoulders. Was the muscle actually damaged more than surface level? Had the Nomu dug that deep?

“No!” the hero said immediately, but didn’t push Izuku back down. Instead, his arms went around Izuku’s torso and pulled him upright, taking his weight off his mangled limbs and helping him sit up and lean his back against the couch. When he was situated, Aizawa simply said, “yes, he just tried to get up,” into the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear that was very decisively not an earpiece. He waited a beat, then addressed Izuku, “Nezu said to stay put. He’s sending help.”

Izuku didn’t respond, now trying to steady his vision. It had gone fuzzy for a moment, but shaking his head seemed to right the world. Was he getting enough air? That didn’t seem to be the issue, even if his entire body was very possibly killing him. Surely the burns weren’t enough to do him in, right? 

“Gone through worse,” he muttered, knowing it was a lie, but he had to convince himself somehow. The burns were nothing new, and he’d dealt with similar, albeit smaller and in a place a little more convenient than the swivel for his arm. And he’d broken his arm before. So he should be okay.

“Midoriya, look at me.” Eraserhead knelt down in front of him, and raised his hand. His body was blurry around the edges. “Follow my hand.” 

Apparently, Izuku didn’t do as he was told well enough, because Aizawa shortly after said, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two?” he forced out, hoping that the room would stop spinning.

“Possible concussion,” Aizawa replied, not addressing him again, attention back on the phone. “I think he might lose consciousness.”

“No,” Izuku protested, and then, very promptly, passed out.

When he woke, he had his head buried in a pillow, and a blanket over his shoulders. While that wasn’t exactly new, despite the usual disorientation in the morning, Izuku knew instantly that he didn’t recognize this place.

(Maybe that meant that this mattress was softer than he was used to. It still wasn’t his home at the base.)

His injuries, somehow, didn’t hurt as much. There were several new sets of wrappings around his torso that he probably shouldn’t disturb, and just because his body hurt less didn’t mean he was any less injured. But Eraser had called Recovery Girl earlier, and if her healing ability was anything like people claimed it was, then pushing his body further than it probably should go would be okay.

 He hesitated before forcing his body up enough to raise a hand and swipe his hair away from his eyes. His palm came away sweaty. God, he needed a shower. How long had it been since his last proper, warm shower, with no rush? When was the last time he was able to just sit down and take his time for anything?

The blankets slid off his shoulders. He was much warmer than before, even if the fact that he didn’t have a shirt hadn’t changed. Lifting up the covers revealed that his usual pants from his suit were gone as well, replaced with a loose fitting pair of athletic shorts. His leg appeared to be splinted, and he experimentally tried to move it, to no avail. His body was just that sore.

With a sigh, he face-planted back into the pillows. They were soft, and he was tired. Sleep would help him heal, probably. At the very least, he could stave off the pain and the soreness until he had to get back to work or school.

Panic shot down his spine. School! He had to have missed class already! Nezu might know about his nighttime activities, but Aizawa certainly didn’t. Could one even take sick days at UA? How would he catch up? 

Now that he was thinking about it, what time even was it? There was no clock in the room, and his phone was nowhere to be seen, not that it was even going to be useful if it was dead. He might’ve missed a day, maybe two, but hopefully if he still had some access to something he’d be able to join the heroics classes in the afternoons and have Aizawa be none the wiser. 

As he drew himself from the sudden anxiety of his whole world crashing down around him, there was movement from behind; the creak of a door, footsteps on hard wood. He twisted around like a cat, regretting the quick movement instantly, and locked eyes with another hero he recognized, standing with an open mouth in the doorway of his room. The sudden panic fled instantly, replaced instead with the awe of who was standing in front of him.

“Hey, little listener,” Present Mic smiled, gathering himself quickly. “How are ya feeling?”

Deku’s eyes didn’t leave him. He didn’t recognize the room, now that it was fully coming back to him. The hero had at least brought him back to his senses. “Where am I?”

“Your apartment,” was the reply, and even though he didn’t immediately sense any deceit, Izuku was still wary.

“I don’t know this place,” he said. “Where am I really?”

Mic chuckled. “You don’t spend enough time here. We couldn’t move ya, so you’re in the bedroom.”

Taking his words as truth (as Present Mic couldn’t lie about something he could so easily fact-check), Izuku took the risk to look around completely. Plain walls, a chair in the corner, a lamp on the bedside cabinet. It certainly looked normal. Simple, even, like the rest of the place. Extravagant in the way that he could tell the furniture was far too expensive, but restrained enough that it could pass as ordinary. Very clearly the result of someone with a never-ending pocket.

The hero coughed, politely, and Izuku’s attention was drawn back to him, still standing in the doorway. 

“May I come in?” he said, and gestured at the tray he carried. 

It was only then that Deku’s nose caught the scent of what the hero was holding. Food. His stomach rumbled.

“Fine,” he spat, perhaps just a bit too rude, but it was what he did when confronted with an enemy he knew he couldn’t beat. 

Apparently, Mic didn’t find him all that threatening, considering that he gave a small smile and shuffled into the room, green eyes watching his every step. All he did was place down the tray on the nightstand, which apparently also had a few pills and a small glass of water.

“What are the pills for?” Izuku asked immediately. Mic didn’t seem surprised.

“Just pain meds. Recovery Girl couldn’t heal you all the way, so she asked for you to take these until she can come back and try another session.”

Of course. He had analyzed her quirk before. She used the body’s energy to heal, which, in large amounts, could easily kill a person. And Izuku was fit, but not in peak physical form. A broken leg and some burns and cuts might actually be too much for him.

His vision went blurry for a moment, and he amended that list with a possible concussion. Not out of the question.

“...fine. I’ll take them.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” the hero said, and backed off, like Izuku was a startled cat. Izuku shot him a glare, then snatched up the plate, ignoring the pills and water for now. Keeping eye contact, he picked up the chopsticks and shuffled back to the headboard before he dared to look down at the plate of eggs and salmon over rice. Damn, that looked good, and it smelled good too. Going to a supermarket like normal wasn’t exactly available to him with the League breathing down his neck.

Poisoning or drugging him wasn’t entirely off the table, but it seemed unlikely. The pills were right next to the plate, and there was a much higher chance that they’d be something different than what Mic said than them putting something in his food.

But this looked homemade. Why would they bother to cook for him?

“Would you eat this?” Izuku asked, lifting up a piece of the egg. 

Taken aback, Mic replied, “uh, yes? I made it, why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows creased together in poorly concealed concern. At least it made him easier to read. “I may be a hero, but I can make good food like anyone else.” 

That answers that question. “Why?”

“Why…what?”

“Why did you cook for me?” he reiterated. “You’re a hero, not a housemaid. Shouldn’t you be trying to, I dunno, arrest me?”

“Kid,” Mic deadpanned, “you were out for over a day. If we wanted you in prison, you would be by now. Or at least in a hospital where they could monitor you.” He seemed to notice that Izuku didn’t believe him, and gave a fond sigh. 

Izuku raised a hand briefly, instinct telling him to check the audio of whatever he was listening to, because there was no way that a hero could be fond. Then, realizing that he had no tech to check, he lowered it, hoping that Present Mic wouldn’t say anything about it.

“Sho’s gotten a little attached,” Mic explained, settling easily in the chair in the corner. Izuku observed that he was purposely staying far away from him. Was it wariness? Or perhaps a touch of fear? Was it something else entirely?

“Sho?” Izuku repeated.

“Shouta…er, Eraserhead.” He chuckled at Deku’s expression, at his slack jaw. Izuku didn’t care. He hadn’t even considered that they were close enough to have nicknames.

Closing his mouth, Izuku licked his lips, trying to restrain himself from diving for the food like a starved dog. He needed more information. What the hell was the hero thinking? 

He voiced as much. “Attached? To a villain who attacked him?”

“To the vigilante that saved the life of one of his students,” Mic corrected. “He said your behavior at the USJ wasn’t like that of one of the ringleaders. And Native reported that you broke a deal with the Hero Killer to save Iida’s life.”

Thinking back to that incident, Izuku clenched his jaw. He’d been angry. So angry. Angry enough that he wouldn’t have cared if anyone died due to wrongful intervention. Maybe mildly upset, but not truly caring about it. The meaning of a human life was all down to a few yen, and that was all that mattered. He got his money, they got his resources. It was a win on both sides.

It was different now, but he still felt that rage. All Might was still nowhere near his favorite hero spot, but he’d at least moved up from his ‘scum of the earth’ ranking.

In lieu of a response, Izuku took the moment to shovel some of the eggs into his mouth. Mic was right—it was good food, and he hadn’t had anything homemade in a while. He was a decent cook, but not having access to a kitchen made anything he wanted practically impossible to make, unless it just needed a microwave. During the first year with the League, even that was barely enough, since police were still on the lookout for him. Any time he needed food, Kurogiri had to make a portal halfway across Japan, where people wouldn’t know his face.

Now, he resorted to eating out, and skipping meals whenever he didn’t particularly feel hungry. Stain had chastised him for that, once. They were out exchanging information a few cities over, and he’d noted that Deku wasn’t gaining any muscle despite the training they’d been doing. His suggestion had been to add more meat to his diet, despite the fact that whenever Izuku deemed it safe to go out it was practically all he consumed.

He went for the rice next, which was just as good. Mic had initially turned to his phone respectfully, but now that Izuku wasn’t eating as hesitantly he judged it safe to put the device down.

The plate was devoured in a matter of minutes, finally silencing the pang of hunger that seemed to be a near constant companion these days. Between his ‘patrol’ in various cities, paying attention to his classmates’ internships, and doing schoolwork and various tasks for Nezu, he wasn’t given much time to actually get out and eat something.

Izuku set it down back on the nightstand, but didn’t yet reach for the pills. Instead, he went back to watching the hero who, just as curiously, stared right back.

“Will the meds knock me out?”

The response was a head shake. “We think you got a concussion. Can’t actually tell if it was healed or not, so we’re playing it safe.”

Satisfied with that response, Deku turned away from Mic long enough to grab the medication and the glass, popping the pills in with no further hesitation. Present Mic couldn’t be trusted, but what he’d said so far was true. If they wanted him locked up, he would be.

As he tilted his head back to swallow the water, the hero casually said, “Oh, and you’ll probably need to catch up on homework. Your English is good, though, so I won’t take it.”

Izuku choked, bringing a hand up to his mouth to avoid spitting the pills out. He struggled to swallow since they were no longer in the back of his throat, but once he managed it felt like all of the blood had drained from his face.

“How?” he sputtered, scrubbing the back of his hand over his mouth to wipe off the water he spit out. “I—I’ve been so careful.”

“Doesn’t take much,” the hero said easily. “We’re not mad, if you’re wonderin’. Nezu seems to think you’re not selling UA information, so we’ve got no issue with it.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Though, might not want to mention it to the other teachers.”

After a brief, awkward silence, Izuku nodded. Not for the first time, he wished he had his phone, if only so he could fiddle with it and feel a little less uneasy. 

At least Mic seemed to feel the same way, because he suddenly decided to strike up a conversation. With nothing else to do, Deku obliged.

(He probably said more than he needed to. Oh well.)

When the hero left to ‘take care of something’, Izuku fell back asleep, only to wake to the lamp turning off, and the vague outline of someone placing something on the nightstand. The person, which he very quickly identified as Aizawa, handed him his damaged phone and a charging cable, along with a brand new one, still in its box. Apparently the screen was too damaged to repair. Who knew?

Eraserhead left when he began to transfer his data over, barely even giving him a second glance. It was pretty obvious that he was upset about Izuku actually being one of his students and not saying anything. They knew who he was to begin with, what did one more secret mean? The fact that he had any from them at all was in itself a small miracle with the way he’d been running his mouth.

It had just been…so long since someone thought him worth talking to. 

That was becoming a common theme with everyone he met.

Notes:

These chapters are slowly getting longer. I think that's a good thing.

I hope.

Chapter 20: God Save Endeavor's PR Team

Notes:

The next chapter wont be out for a while, just a heads up! Until then, enjoy this one!

Once his data was successfully transferred to the new phone (and he made sure that there was no spyware downloaded), he reached out to Kurogiri to say that the nomus nearly killed him and as such he’d be out and not in the base for a while. He called back almost immediately, and Izuku let the phone ring. Serves them right for not listening to him.

Finally with access to the internet, Deku was able to log back in to his classes and play catch up the rest of the day. Apparently Nezu sent out an email that he was doing important work for his internship and to excuse him from class, for which he was grateful. If it meant that he was accused of principal favoritism, oh well. It was better than the class (who undoubtedly had to have seen the news) putting his absence and the sudden injuries from Deku together and realizing what he’d been trying to avoid. His classmates welcomed him back warmly, and he was glad that Eraserhead didn’t seem too displeased with him.

It took him the full day to complete all his given assignments (including telling Eraserhead that he’d decided on a codename for hero work. He lied, but it was an excuse for the students) and by then he was much more tired and still sore. His leg was now functioning, but it hurt to put weight on. The decision to leave it alone and stay in bed as much as possible was made, which was immediately disregarded when he realized that he could shower.

When it was finally a reasonable, normal time to go to sleep, Izuku turned over, hair now freshly clean and washed and dripping water onto the pillow, and pulled up the news. He’d been avoiding it, put it off as long as possible, but his curiosity got the better of him. The world had to know of Deku now. What were they saying? What did they think?

To his surprise, there were already forums and whole threads about his sudden appearance. Someone, he couldn’t tell who under the mound of information, had posted photos of him on the subway home, holding his helmet in place with dark green hair poking out the back. Somehow, from another angle, someone else had gotten a video without him noticing, and was watching how he swayed and how once it reached his stop he stumbled off, clutching at his shoulder and limping. 

The recording had already amassed over a million views and thousands of replies bashing the heroes and condemning those in the top ten for doing something like this. Deku could imagine the amount of calls the Endeavor agency was receiving about this. Even the news had picked up and played the recording for millions more to see.

Still there was even more, mostly people wondering what his quirk was or even who he was—which he was pleased to say had people scratching their heads over someone in their thirties. They did seem to agree, however, on the fact that his quirk had to be subtle with the amount of support gear he carried, and that ruled out all of the mutant quirks.

The average person could tell instantly that the burns, at least, were the result of the only fire-wielding hero in the vicinity. Endeavor was confirmed to be in Hosu that night, and many people had filmed him fighting nomus around the place. There wasn’t any footage of him hitting Deku directly, but there were clips from after that clearly showed him firing off balls of flame in his direction.

Someone had theorized some kind of digital ability, based on the patterns in his suit. It was quickly dismissed by most, but Izuku flagged the page to look into later. Maybe this had been someone in the underground who had heard of him before and was trying not to catch his attention. Or it was just a hobby analyst, like him. It was, after all, kind of obvious.

Either way, Deku had an account for the forums, and his username was simply ‘Deku’, which might confirm for others who he was. And, on this site at least, they couldn’t trace a location back. Maybe this would be an opportunity to get back to the online trolling of others he used to love so much. 

For now, though, he resigned himself to the hero forums, where everyone was congregating to collectively shit on Endeavor for attacking someone who couldn’t fight back. With the news that he’d saved the lives of a hero and a student from the hero killer, it only bolstered their argument that, even if he was being an illegal vigilante, it still didn’t justify that amount of damage. Endeavor could even control his flames, so why the hell was he permanently maiming someone who didn’t attack anyone?  

Izuku knew. He knew the answers to just about every question they were asking, but he didn’t attempt to speak up. It was better to leave the identity of Deku shrouded in enough mystery that they couldn’t figure out anything more than they already had. His hair alone was too much, and green was a common color, even among those with no quirks. 

The best look they got at him was in the subway which, admittedly, was a mistake. That being said, he didn’t have another option if he didn’t want to have to travel through miles of heroes on high alert. His body wouldn’t have lasted that long. But from that, they got his approximate height, his build (even hidden under armor, there were only so many options), and his hair color. That narrowed it down by a shocking amount, and he had no doubt that the police would be on his trail once they figured out that he wasn’t actually dead.

He took a deep sigh. The best way to follow what they were doing was insider information, and the best way to do that was to hack in. Izuku didn’t really want to admit that he was still scared of accessing his quirk, which was irrational. All For One had shown that he could control him even outside of using his quirk. The itch was there, to get back into work, to do as he had been for years. But he ignored it and refused to scratch, and instead decided to phone his other method of getting insider information; Tsukauchi, the detective that figured him out in the first place. That was his one solid link to the police. And probably his best bet at actually getting the information he wanted.

Tsukauchi picked up on the second ring. Izuku had his number saved for a while now, but had no reason to use it. Their communication was strictly as Deku and detective through either email or online messaging. There was no reason for the detective to expect this, and that was the beauty of it..

“Hello?” the man greeted, cautiously. He was already wary, which couldn’t have been a good sign. Were the police running them into the ground over this already? Had the commission set them on it so soon?

“Hi,” Izuku greeted, unable to hide his fatigue. He really was tired, and cranky, and hurting, and so many other things that he couldn’t be bothered to name. The detective knew his voice, and he had to have known what happened, so this was all he needed.

There was the sound of something dropping, clattering to the floor, probably a pen of some kind. Then, hushed, Tsukauchi asked, “Midoriya?”

“Call me Izuku,” Deku said, knowing that some officers might recognize his family name, if they were on his case back when he went missing. It wasn’t exactly a usual working hour, but he’d run into the detective still working long after the sun went down, so it wasn’t out of the question for others to do the same. “It’s been a minute, detective.”

The detective muttered something he could barely make out, presumably to others in the room—they had to be working his case. Then, some shuffling, a door closing. The garbling on the other end got noticeably softer. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, louder now. “How bad is it?”

“I got help,” was his reply, too tired to come up with some witty response. “I’m alive, at least.”

“Good.” The detective sighed in relief. “If you got help, that’s good. You should stay low. People here are trying to figure out your identity. It might take them a while, but they’ll get there.”

“My name doesn’t matter if they can’t track me.” Izuku closed his eyes for a moment. This needed to be quick, for his sake. “Anyway, could you keep me posted on what they’re figuring out?”

Tsukauchi hummed acknowledgement, after a confused pause. “I can do that, but can’t you track the data yourself?”

“I’m indisposed right now and can’t access anything.” Not until he got his laptop, which was—actually, where was it? He must’ve left it back at the base. At least his security measures were heavy enough that nobody would be able to access anything he had on there. They probably wouldn’t care enough, anyway.

Another pause, this one stretching on longer, almost verging on awkward. “Are…are you compromised?”

“I don’t know yet,” Izuku answered honestly. All For One knew at least that something was up, but the others might still be in the dark. “I can’t say.”

A flat breath, in and out. His answer seemed to stress the detective out more than anticipated. “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay. Are you at least in a safe place now?”

Izuku thought about it for a moment. “I…I think so.”

“Thank God.” Tsukauchi let out another sigh. Deku had half a mind to tease him for it. “Okay. You’re probably still not able to get out of that situation, are you?”

“No,” he said, “and this might just kill me, but I have files; I have data. I’ll get them to you as soon as I can and…I’ll just hope that he doesn’t catch on.” Now that he knew, now that All For One could kill him at any moment, everything he had done for the League needed to be handed over to the heroes as soon as he could.

“Who’s ‘he’, Izuku?” 

The sudden shock of hearing his first name said with so much concern had tears immediately welling up in his eyes, despite the fact that he had been the one to suggest that the detective use it. He’d given up being such a crybaby years ago. And no matter how many times he realized that the walls he’d built up were crumbling, he had always been powerless to stop it.

“They call him All For One.” 

Before the detective could say anything more, Izuku added, “I’ll arrange a time to meet. I’ve got to go.” And with that, he hung up, set his phone down, and buried his face in his still-wet pillow. It was too late for him to care. He fell asleep soon after.

Two days later, Izuku finally felt well enough to leave and make a visit to the nearby ‘safe zone’ for vigilantes—there were a surprising amount of the little cafes scattered around Japan. He’d needed to meet up with Tsukauchi, and Kurogiri knew the place, so he could get Izuku’s laptop to him. They’d already agreed on that much, so he could continue to at least do something while he wasn’t at the League’s base. Tomura hadn’t been too happy with him, but oh well. They were the ones who set the nomus free on Hosu.

His suit was still mangled and unsalvageable, but the heroes had gotten him some loose-fitting clothes that worked well enough. As for a mask, he needed to either do some fiddling with his helmet or pick something else up off the streets, which was far from safe. The cafe he was headed to would provide masks, but a medical one should be enough, since the detective already knew who he was. Those, at least, were easy to talk Mic and Eraser into getting for him. He had the awful feeling that they knew what he was planning, once he received them. They were plain black. Not the normal blue.

The evening of, he’d informed the heroes in no uncertain terms that he was going to be conversing with clients and that they were not to intervene or barge in. This was ultimately accepted, after Mic made him promise that he’d eat something (apparently they’d stocked the fridge). Eraser very gruffly agreed, and pointed out that he was too thin for his height which was, admittedly, true, and also made him promise to eat something. 

Honestly, just telling them to get out probably tipped them off to what he was attempting to do. But what did that matter when he’d be back?

His leg had lost some of the soreness, and the swelling had gone down. He was still limping on it, and he couldn’t lift anything particularly heavy, but Izuku could hide it enough on his way that most people wouldn’t look twice. Injuries weren’t exactly uncommon in this society. And on the subway at least it wouldn’t be an issue.

Contrary to what he expected, Eraserhead insisted that Izuku get some gear to hide his identity. When he pointed out that his helmet was destroyed and his usual suit beyond repair, the hero promised to get him something that would work in its stead.

So there he was, two hours out from his scheduled meeting, with a UA briefcase in hand. Apparently, Nezu had gotten his measurements and sent it out to a costume design company to make something that would work for him. He’d even gotten the support course to make him gear to replace what Izuku already had. Supposedly, they made improvements. Deku didn’t trust their word enough to believe it. He paid a fortune for the ones he had.

There wasn’t any time to check if the tech actually worked, or to see if they’d placed any trackers inside it. So, he took the case, and headed out, limping as he went.

The idea occurred to him to suit up before he left, and was quickly ignored in favor of traveling undetected. People were still buzzing excitedly about him, even on the subway. He caught quiet chatter; some targeted, pointed remarks toward the heroes and where they should stick their noses, and audio of the clip that the news station had been obsessed over. 

Staying under the radar had always been his intention, but Izuku couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t like all of the attention that he was now getting. People valued him, what he did. That was much more than he ever got from the League.

 He got off the subway and limped his way to a deserted street, where he could find an alleyway to change and figure out what kind of costume they created for him. If it wasn’t anything like his current suit, they’d have hell to pay. He liked that suit. 

Thankfully, aside from some minor modifications, including the different appearances of some of the tech and the design of part of the suit, the base was largely the same. This one seemed a little more stylized than what he was used to, a little more flashy, but it was good enough. This one even covered part of his neck, which served well to hide the small smattering of burns.

Like Eraserhead’s, the suit was mostly black, with green stripes matching the color of the marks of his quirk up the sides of the pants and the shirt. There was enough armor to pad out his torso over it, making him look like some kind of airsoft hobbyist. It definitely wasn’t enough to stop a bullet, or even most quirks, but it could work well enough for stab resistance in his underground dealings. Some of it even glowed.

His jacket and helmet were last. The jacket was short, and probably too thin to be useful as an actual jacket in the winter, but the helmet was close enough to his last one that people would recognize it quickly. Both had a similar acid-green glow that seemed to come from paint more than lights.

Izuku took a deep breath, and bent down to lace up the boots, grimacing all the while. He hadn’t considered how difficult it was to put on clothes with a lame leg. Just tugging the pants on was far too long of an affair. The shirt was better, but not by much. His shoulder at least could be lifted without too much trouble.

The jacket was fastened over his shoulders, more cloak than jacket (which seemed a little dramatic, but what did he know about fashion) and the helmet practically leered at him where it was placed on the ground. He missed his tech. He missed his sensors that he had configured himself. He missed using his quirk. 

Eventually, though, he bit the bullet and placed the helmet on his head. He opened his eyes to sensors blinking, a computerized display, almost exactly like what he was used to. The rest of the tech, too, powered on with it; there was the steady hum of machinery that was one of his favorite sounds.

“Welcome, Deku,” a voice spoke in his ear. He jumped, immediately regretting the amount of pressure it put on his bad leg. 

Nezu had even put AI in this suit? Now that was handy.

“Hello?” he said, slightly uncertainly. He’d been working on his own AI, but dealing with something someone else programmed might be a little tricky. Though, he supposed, Nezu already knew just about everything he did anyway, so it didn’t really matter in the end if he got the information back.

“Hello,” the AI replied. “I see that you are injured. Would you like me to alert Recovery Girl?”

“No!” he yelped. “UA doesn’t know I’ve left, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Alright.” If the distinctly feminine voice was in front of him, Deku would swear she’d be expressionless. “I will remain on standby.”

“Yeah…” Izuku started, more than a little awkward. “So…what do I call you?”

“You may call me NATALIE,” the AI stated. 

“Does that stand for something?” he asked.

“It does,” she stated, but did not elaborate. Deku chose not to ask.

The moment he stepped out of that alleyway, it seemed, people noticed. With the streets nearly deserted, his new suit stood out like a beacon. For those that didn’t know who he was, maybe he seemed like a hero. Villains, after all, rarely had this level of technology, and certainly not suits built by professional corporations unless they were corrupt. Vigilantes also were pretty rare, and they relied more on quirks than illegal support gear.

His suit was practically a beacon aligning himself with the heroes (or at least a powerful backer) and people could recognize that.

The cafe was hidden on the bad side of town, and that was where people made sure to avoid him. There wasn’t a knife with this uniform, so instead he relied on the glow of the laser on his arm to keep people at bay. 

As he passed, he could hear people whispering his name. Deku. He straightened up, and tried to conceal his limp a little more. There. Let them think he had some kind of healing quirk. That’ll throw them off even more.

The cafe was one he’d been to before. In fact, it was the place where he first initially met the detective. How fitting, that it was the one they finally met at again, on slightly more  peaceful terms.

And this time, he could get some information out of it.

Chapter 21: Information Exchange

Notes:

APOLOGIES. I HAD FINALS.

plz take my humble offering

Once he was beyond the entryway, all conversation ceased. 

That was what it felt like, at least. The moment he was past the greeter in the foyer, which was separate from the main cafe for privacy reasons, the noise he could hear from beyond quieted down to whispers. Inside was fairly lively, too, so it wasn’t just that the place had minimal customers. No, the fact was that they recognized him. 

Even with this new mask, and his new gear, it was pretty evident who he was. Nezu had made sure that the designs in his helmet and the base of his gear were largely the same. Underneath his jaw, where the faintest bit of skin was visible, the green marks that came from All For One were glowing and visible. Those marks hadn’t been seen in the news with how far away the camera was recording from, but combined with the design of his suit it wasn’t difficult to assume his identity.

Just like the first time he’d been recognized in one of these vigilante hotspots, he kept his head held high and marched his way to the room he’d specified and the one that, by now, was basically just a meeting room for secret police dealings. The others in the cafe watched him go, some eyes looking at the suit, and others scanning for weaknesses. His shoulder, in particular, which had taken the brunt of Endeavor’s attack. He’d never been more glad that the fall from the Nomu wasn’t televised. 

Tsukauchi had not yet arrived once he settled in, so he rang a bell for an attendant and ordered some food while he waited. He was just under an hour early, and Tsukauchi wasn’t that eager. Not as far as he was aware, anyway. 

The thought occurred to him to call Kurogiri and get the information ahead of time. Unfortunately, that told the League exactly where he was and where he’d be located for the next several hours, and that was something he just couldn’t risk when they were already on thin ice with him. He’d just get it after, and be done with the whole thing before they could send backup to grab him. This suit probably had trackers, anyway, so in the end it didn’t really matter. 

“Natalie,” he said, and it felt weird that he was speaking to open air. It was very different when he was on the phone, with someone else on the other end. “Are you still here?”

“I am always here, Izuku,” the AI said in his ear. “Is there something you need?”

Time to get his suit’s specs. “Are there any trackers in the suit?” Preferably ones he could disable?

“There are two,” Natalie replied instantly, “one inside the suit and the second inside the helmet. Currently, only one is active and sending signals.”

He leaned back in his chair, and kicked his feet up onto the table. It was rude, sure, but nobody was around to see, and this behavior was already generally accepted for villains. “What happened to the other one?” he asked.

“It will be activated only when the other stops transmitting.”

Interesting. “Can you disable them?”

“It is not recommended to disable the trackers, in the event that you are attacked and Nezu is unable to reach you.”

Izuku grimaced. That was handy, but not something he needed at the moment. During his more discrete dealings, that could only work against him. “Can you shut them off?” 

“Your current location is stationary. I can disable the trackers provided that you are not moving to a new location.”

Damn that principal. “Fine. Leave them active.” He stewed in that for a while, trying to contemplate how he could best hack into the AI and disable some of those protocols. Then, he said, “Are you able to hack into external resources?”

“What are you trying to access?”

“What are you able to access?” Izuku shot back, just as smoothly.

“I am able to access all digital databases,” said the AI. “What are you trying to access?”

That would need to be tested later, but Izuku decided not to deal with it for that moment. “Nothing right now. What are the rest of the suit’s specs?”

As it turned out, the suit wasn’t that far off from his old one. It was a little higher tech, which helped him out quite a bit, and there was even a hole cut into one of the pants pockets so he could maintain physical contact with a phone or another device. If they kept that little detail, it might mean that they had a better understanding of his quirk, but now that he was actively working with them it wasn’t like he minded too much. There was even a bunch of health monitoring systems (most of which he considered disabling once he got the tools to do so) so that if his heart rate suddenly jumped, the heroes could track and see if he was in proper danger.

If heroes popped up just because Izuku got jumpscared by a stray cat, he’d be angry forever.

Izuku stopped speaking with the AI for a brief moment when the door opened, revealing a young, uncomfortable looking waiter with the food he’d ordered on a tray. It was placed in front of him, and he thanked the man, who looked shocked that he’d offered such a courtesy—what the hell did they think the vigilante Deku does to normal people?—which made Izuku mentally note to double check the forums later. The man bowed low, and made a very hasty exit.

He shrugged it off just as quickly. Whatever. It probably benefited him if they were afraid. Probably.

Well, now that he thought about it, there weren’t many people who could take on Endeavor, let alone escape from him. He had the highest number of villain and vigilante captures in history. Only the most powerful were able to get away, which definitely implied that his quirk was stronger than it really was. Izuku really did just get lucky, though. It was pure luck that he was able to get away, even if the Nomu was a large part of that. 

His hands lifted to his helmet once he was sure that he was alone, and pulled it off. The AI told him that there was a tracker in the helmet. Maybe it activated once he had the suit on? If it stopped transmitting once his helmet was off, and the suit one remained active, that would allow for any possible times his helmet broke in combat or was pulled off. Another issue with the heroes like with Endeavor would certainly be prevented. He basically lost all combat and defensive capabilities once it was gone. His only ‘defense’ would be diving into his quirk and making them take him to a hospital, or something.

When he got back, he was going to ask Nezu for some kind of domino mask for underneath it. They knew his hair was green, so in the event he hit his head and shattered the helmet, at least his identity would be protected. He never really cared before, but now Deku was in the public eye. The least he could do was cover his bases. He had always been pretty good at determining the “what-if” scenarios. That was part of the reason he was paid so well.

Finally deciding to eat, he clasped his hands together, muttered a quick thanks, and picked up his spoon to dig into the coffee jelly. Perhaps it was probably a bit late to be having caffeine, but that had never been an issue. He’d always been a night owl. The most that would happen would be himself cursing the food in the morning when he got up for classes. That being said, the first one was English, and that was something he rarely had trouble with.

Izuku was nearly done with his food when there was a knock on the door of the room. There was enough time, however barely, for him to drop the utensil (the clatter made him cringe) and jam the helmet back over his head. While it was okay for Tsukauchi to see his face, he’d prefer it if the cafe’s employees did not. They had a strict non disclosure policy, but sometimes they’d gossip. He would know. That’s where some of his information came from, and it came much easier when they were drunk. Most of them frequented a nearby bar that he’d come to be very familiar with.

“You can come in,” he said, the voice changer in the helmet working perfectly, and the door swung open. One hand on the handle, staring at him with poorly veiled concern, was detective Tsukauchi, flanked by an employee on his right. 

“Deku,” he breathed. “You’re alive.”

“You think Endeavor could kill me?” Izuku replied, more a show for the employee than anything else. He laughed, and no matter how fake it felt, the distortion in his helmet covered it up. “He’d have to do a lot more than that to bring me down.”

The employee escorted the detective inside, bowed, and then closed the door behind him. Izuku waited a little longer, gestured for Tsukauchi to sit, and kept silent until he was settled. He kept his helmet on. Now probably wasn’t the best time to put all his cards on the table. 

“In all seriousness,” he began, leaning forward and placing his clasped hands on the table, “I would like to get down to business. First, I won’t give you the details of my quirk, but just know that my hacking ability is not impacted by this. I can still get the information I’m after with or without it, but I want to know what information you want for it.”

Thankfully, the detective seemed to agree, and didn’t say anything more. “Well, Midoriya,” Tsukauchi said, without any stalling, which Izuku appreciated, “you said you had information relating to All For One.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Izuku replied immediately, “on the condition that you don’t act on it until either I give the go ahead or I stop replying to you.” He waited for the detective to nod, and then sighed, his shoulders losing some of their tension. That had been the main thing he was worried about. If they acted alone, he couldn’t mitigate the damage. “I don’t have anything physical on me at the moment, but Kurogiri is on standby to let me into the base. Do you have a bag or anything I can take?”

Tsukauchi lifted the briefcase he’d been carrying. “I have a few files in here about your investigation. I’m assuming you’d like to know?”

Instead of responding to the question, Izuku raised an eyebrow. He’d been watching the detective when he got bored—well, since he wasn’t using his quirk, he just manually accessed police cameras and the ones surrounding headquarters. They all ran on the same system, thankfully, and he couldn’t resist the teasing that sat on the tip of his tongue.

“You need to stop carrying a briefcase around, detective. You seem a little pretentious, don’t you think?”

This was very quickly ignored, and Tsukauchi set the case on the table. Unable to help himself, Izuku leaned forward, which was, ultimately, pointless, as the files inside were immediately handed over. He flicked through the pages in silence. Most were, shockingly, not about him. Some did detail his confirmed (and unconfirmed) sightings, as well as possible quirks, but the majority of the papers were of convicted vigilantes and unlawful quirk users. There were so many manilla folders that he just skimmed through each one, skipping over the cases he was at least minutely familiar with.

“They think you’re someone we’ve either caught already, or related to someone that has been,” Tsukauchi said, as Izuku picked up another file, this one filled with families of the offenders. “Since you’re a support vigilante, mostly behind the scenes. Any recent villain invasions are being looked into as well, because they’re of the opinion that something big had to happen to draw you out into the open.”

“Well,” Izuku murmured, “at least they’re totally off the mark there. Don’t they know I work with the League?”

“Yes, but given how many recent convicted criminals have had information with your name on it, they think that it’s more of a temporary arrangement. Not a formal alliance.” The detective picked up another folder and handed it off to him. “When we went back through our original investigations of you, you did have a few appearances, but those were in vigilante cafes and villain hideouts, according to eyewitnesses. So the original theory still stands, since you’ve never gone public before now.”

Opening the new folder, Izuku found another list of criminals, most of which were caught attempting to attack or incapacitate specific heroes. The detective was right—there were a lot more names than he expected. The hero killer was also, surprisingly, on that list. He didn’t think he’d been caught already, but it looked like Endeavor was able to incapacitate him.

“I give them all the information they could want,” he muttered, “and they can’t even use it right.” He flipped the page, shaking his head. “Typical.”

Tsukauchi continued to press him for a few more details, but really Izuku had nothing to say. He’d been with the heroes for the last several days, so as for the League’s recent movements he had no idea. And on top of it, the detective was absolutely convinced that they’d discover who Izuku was, despite the fact that half of their files had information that was leading them in the opposite direction. Izuku even wanted to keep a few of them for the laughs, but it was very quickly shot down.

It was after another few minutes of banter and snarky comments that the detective finally sighed, got to his feet, and began to gather the files strewn across the table that Izuku was done reading. “I suppose taking these with me is pointless. You’ve got a camera in that helmet of yours, don't you?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “Natalie? Are you recording this interaction?”

“I am not,” she replied. Apparently, the speaker in his helmet wasn’t loud enough for the detective to hear. “Would you like me to begin?”

Addressing the detective, Izuku asked, “should I be?”

Tsukauchi sighed again. “Of course you’ve got an AI.” He gestured listlessly at the table. “You might as well. Kid, I hope you realize that you are going to give me gray hairs.”

He grinned. “I aim to please, detective. Natalie, can you record and store these files?”

“Of course, Izuku.” Deku waited for the AI to take at least a picture of what he could see, then pulled off the helmet to set down on the table, hopefully getting a good angle to see the information if he needed more than that. It felt strange, having his face exposed to open air. In front of a police officer, no less. Though even though it was weird, he didn’t feel too uncomfortable.

“See? I’m fine. No gray hairs here.”

“Your hair is singed,” Tsukauchi pointed out, an exasperated smile on his face. Even so, he had the decency to look worried. 

Izuku took a strand of hair from the burned side of his body to glance at. Indeed, it was a little overly frizzy on the side of his head. He thought he got most of that dealt with when he showered. “Only a little.”

“And the rest of your injuries?” 

“I’m fine,” Izuku pressed. “Really. It’s just a few burns and a broken bone. Plus, Recovery Girl healed most of it, so I’m all good.”

“What did you break?” the detective asked quickly, looking mildly shocked. “And when?!” 

Oops. Deku didn’t tell him about that little detail. 

On the footage, Endeavor hadn’t actually touched him. And the nomu hadn’t actually been recorded except on hero body cam footage. Endeavor’s had been lost, actually, which meant that he probably melted the camera. He wasn’t sure why they bothered trying to give him that stuff when this happened nearly every time a villain popped up.

“A nomu picked me up while I was running from Endeavor,” he explained honestly. “I got it to drop me before we got up too high. Then,” Izuku shrugged, “crack. Leg decided it didn’t like that.”

“And you’re walking on it?!”

“I don’t know why you’re so shocked.” Deku sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms, hiding the wince as just a readjustment when it tugged on the burn on his shoulder. “I do stuff like this all the time.”

“And you wonder why you’re giving me gray hair.” Tsukauchi sat back down, having been probably a little too concerned with the previous line of conversation, and dragged a hand down the side of his face. “Fine. Nothing I say is going to change what you do, is it?”

“Nope!” Izuku answered cheerfully. “Not a bit. And I think we’ve been over that you’re not going to arrest me.”

The detective rubbed the bridge of his nose, somehow even more done with him than when they started. “Child or not, you—unfortunately—make for good information on the inside. I don’t think you realize how beneficial this information is to us.” 

Realistically, he probably knew more than they thought, but Izuku said, “Maybe I don’t. But still. This is my job.” He stood up, and stretched his arms out, failing to hide a wince when he disturbed his still-healing shoulder. “And on that note, I’m going to go grab that information.” His helmet was snatched up, and for once in Izuku’s villain career it felt strange to have the blinking sensors in front of his eyes.

Not bothering to take out his phone, Izuku just asked Natalie to send a text to Kurogiri to open a warp gate to the back alley behind the cafe. Then, he asked the detective to remain inside and out of sight (he stressed that last part perhaps a little too much) and made his way outside, letting the employees know that he’d be back. Sure enough, there was a swirling warp gate waiting in the alleyway, and two brilliant yellow eyes staring him down as he approached. This time, he didn’t hide his limp, because damn did that hurt, and Kurogiri needed to know that.

Izuku retrieved his laptop and a few other physical files he needed, and then completely wiped his desktop computer. Everything he truly needed was either written down or stored on the flashdrives he stashed around the room, and none of the villains barged in while he took what he needed. Part of the initial terms of his deal with All For One was that he lived with them, but with the sudden lack in the work they had him doing, he decided that it was best to not return. Nezu and other heroes would know where he camped out, but if the League didn’t know, then that was probably best.

Kurogiri dropped him back off at the cafe with another file of data that All For One wanted, this time on students at UA High. Seeing no issue with it, Deku agreed to do the work, and have it back to them in a few days. Of course, the moment Kurogiri was gone, Izuku had Natalie take pictures of what he wanted, and passed the rest on to Tsukauchi, still waiting inside. Then, the detective insisted on walking him back home, so he dutifully changed out of his new gear and allowed it, just this once. They now had a more permanent arrangement, anyway.

With that, the detective bade him goodnight, and left. Izuku went to bed with a semi-full stomach and the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, he was actually safe.

That was a very strong maybe.

Chapter 22: Nezu Makes Izuku’s Life A Living Hell

Unfortunately for Deku, with everything else going on his life, final exams were coming up. The last part of the year he had to study for before the summer camp of hell while he was dealing with the League and simultaneously the heroes. He was still living in that apartment, after all, and Eraserhead and Mic stopped by too frequently to deal with most of his clients. His nights were much later than normal, and he’d nearly missed classes more than a couple of times because he slept through his alarm.

Both the final and the summer camp after it were things he found out had to be done in person. He was seriously considering kicking Nezu in the behind for going back on his ‘virtual classes’ promise.

Now that the teachers understood his quirk a little better, it was even more important that they had him physically present, watching to see if he tried to cheat—was the explanation he was given. It made sense, even though he hated it. It was just one more thing to deal with too early in the morning. So what if he used his quirk? They couldn’t catch him if he moved fast enough, which just meant that he had to have a study guide made and ready to access as soon as possible.

The staff hadn’t informed them about what the practical would be, but from consulting older UA students (and maybe the internet once he realized that some graduates had social media) he realized that it would be a lot like the entrance exam. They’d be expected to fight robots in a combat simulation. 

Somehow, this didn’t seem right. It would give him and whoever he was paired with an overwhelming advantage, even if they’d upped security. He wouldn’t even have to break into the robots themselves, just the control room. Then he could stop the signals from sending out, or even control the robots to move away from the area. It didn’t seem fair to the other students of his class if he could just shut everything off in a few seconds. And, not to mention, it wouldn’t simulate real combat with actual villains.

That left the only other option for combat: live, human opponents. Most likely pro heroes themselves, and UA was not known for outsourcing. They had to be fighting their teachers. And, given Nezu’s habit for pitting students against their weaknesses, surely he’d be fighting a losing battle against a melee fighter. Maybe Eraserhead, since he wouldn’t be able to use his quirk. Or perhaps Thirteen, because she could suck away any technology he happened to possibly acquire.

Supposedly, the pairings were selected at random (so they were told), as were the locations and the teachers they’d be fighting. That meant, as far as Izuku was concerned, the odds were in his favor that they’d get something to work with, right? If he worked against Present Mic, maybe, he could short out the speaker that amplified and allowed him to ‘aim’ his voice, in a way. That way it would be less effective. Anyone would work, really. He’d analyzed all of their quirks enough to know where their weaknesses lay.

As it turned out, the gods above had doomed him to fail. On the day of the final, he had only just gotten out of the paper exam (which, thankfully, was a breeze) when they revealed the teams and their opponents. Not only did they pair him with Bakugo (with!), they had set the two of them up against All Might. All. Might. Literally Japan’s number one hero. Middle school him would have been crying with joy at the opportunity. 

As it was, he stiffly acknowledged the pairing and attempted to head over to his ‘partner’, who of course shoved him off and stalked away to the other end of the field, glaring at everyone who dared to get close. They should be strategizing, but with Bakugo that would never happen. Izuku just huffed, and crossed his arms, trying to think. 

He wasn’t a physical kind of fighter, even if he knew a little bit of hand to hand. All Might and Bakugo both were, and them butting heads would only end in disaster. Despite that, he absolutely had to pass this exam, or he wouldn’t be heading to the summer camp with the group, which would provide excellent learning opportunities in an area where he couldn’t really access most of his tech. And if they didn’t pass, he’d never hear the end of it from Bakugo. He didn’t need to make an enemy of him in both of his lifetimes.

His team was set to go last—whether that was orchestrated by Nezu so that the principal could watch Izuku or so all the students could see All Might fight he had no idea. He could watch everyone else, at least? And maybe get a headstart in breaking into the sensors so he could see if he could trip them and fake a successful escape. That could throw All Might off enough to actually escape, maybe. 

Bakugo would definitely want to go for a direct fight. If that was the case, maybe Izuku could use him as a distraction while he ran for the gate. All Might was fast, but perhaps if he thought that Izuku was close by? He shouldn’t know the details of his quirk, with how little it was displayed. Maybe with his support gear, whatever it was, he might have something?

The teachers dismissed them all to get dressed in their hero suits, and it was at this point that he was doubting the principal. He had a suit already, and people on the street had seen it as Deku’s. These kids wouldn’t notice it, sure, but the heroes very well might, given how similar it was to his first version. Was he to use the same one, or was there a different design that was far enough away so he wouldn’t be suspected? He didn’t know, and it was eating him from the inside out. 

The case wasn’t big enough, actually, to hold a helmet. So maybe he was safe for the time being. A hero didn’t really have a need for a mask, anyway.

Like his classmates, he collected his case, and headed to the locker room. At first, he made his way to the bathroom stalls, intent on changing there, but upon realizing that the ones they had were all occupied he simply picked the very back corner. It was also, conveniently, on the other side of the room as Bakugo. 

The case taunted him as he stripped off his shirt. Everyone else was getting dressed just fine, and they had no doubts in their designers. They, though, had the advantage of at least trying their costumes on beforehand and knowing the little quirks of each design. Izuku had no such luck, so he decided to bite the bullet and open the case, expecting the worst. Then, upon seeing the neatly folded uniform, he let out a soft gasp that the kid next to him, Sero, noticed.

“Ohh,” he said, a small smile on his face. “You’ve never seen your hero costume, right?”

Izuku just shook his head. “No, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

Where his Deku uniform was built for mobility, this one instead was laden down with support gear at every turn. Some were similar to what he already had made by the support course, but clearly more defined and better produced. There wasn’t a knife or any standard kind of weapon, but there was what could have been some kind of stun gun in a holster meant for his hip, and even more armor than he was used to. It limited his movement, but he supposed it didn’t really matter for a behind-the-scenes hero.

“Get used to it,” Sero said, as he tugged on his own costume which, in comparison, looked like little more than spandex. “They’ll make adjustments, too, if there’s anything you don’t like. The third-year support course students are amazing at getting them altered quickly, if you can’t wait for the official companies to fix it.”

He eyed Sero’s costume just a little longer before turning back to his own, mentally thanking Nezu that they didn’t put him in a skin tight costume like most of the heroes were fond of wearing nowadays. Thank fuck he wasn’t held to that same standard; even the quirk currently affecting him wouldn’t be able to hide something actually skin tight, not to mention he’d be supremely uncomfortable given that he’d been wearing baggy clothes and hoodies for the last two years. 

It took a little figuring out to make sure all the support gear was secured properly (and a glance at the online instructions to make sure he knew what everything was before he had to go out in the field) but after he was done, Izuku spent the last minute or so he had admiring himself in the bathroom mirror. Somehow, this design worked with both the brown hair and strange face he sported now and his real one. It was mostly a forest green that was pretty close to his real hair color, with lighter accents running down the sides of his body and a strange, wide neckline that seemed reminiscent of something Best Jeanist would have, if a little larger. He could hide half of his expression with it, too, which was better than most.

Surprisingly, he also had a mask, though there was a spot for it clipped to his belt. Just like his very first one, it was a rabbit mask with sensors in the ears that looked suspiciously close to All Might’s hair strands. He’d have to ask Nezu about that the next time they interacted. Knowing the principal, he’d admit to it, too, and Izuku couldn’t do a thing about it.

Kirishima and Sato were the first to take their exam, so along with Uraraka, Izuku made his way to the control room where he could watch the ensuing battles while the others found their partners and began to talk strategy. Recovery Girl was seated with them in the observatory, waiting on standby for when her ability would be needed. Over the doorway of a room adjacent, there was a pink glittery sign advertising her temporary clinic.

The first up were facing Cementoss in a small replica of a city. A concrete jungle, like much of modern architecture. In other words, they were screwed. 

As far as he was aware, Cementoss didn’t have a limit on how much concrete he could put out or use, only a distance limitation on what he could access with his quirk. The two he was up against were both close, hand-to-hand fighters. Their best option was to run, even though he knew they wouldn’t. It was only natural to think they’d get extra points for capture instead of fleeing. Plus, they were both strong enough to punch through the barriers, and they didn’t have the added benefit of time to strategize like everyone else. To them, it probably did seem like the best option. 

They ended up losing that fight, just like he predicted. Both threw themselves headlong into it, and their teacher outlasted them. Maybe he should give them pointers when they both came back from the infirmary once they were chipped out of the cement.

The following battles of his other classmates were interesting enough (even if some of their actions made him roll his eyes), and Izuku was able to take decent enough notes on their abilities that the League should be off his ass for a little while about the hero students. He might even be able to half-ass some of it so that they didn’t get everything valuable about this class. Recently, he’d been doing as much with whatever they asked about, and they weren’t able to notice enough of a difference in his work.

(“You take notes, Shigaraki?” Uraraka asked. 

Izuku, very much engrossed in his writing, jumped. Then, he gathered himself, and looked up at her. “Yeah. I mean, it helps figure out what others are doing, right?” He shifted uneasily. What did she think? He couldn’t tell. “We’ll be working together in the future, and knowing how to improve based on their performance can only help me. Plus, I get to see how the pros work, you know?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said. “I think that’s very plus ultra of you!”)

But now he found himself standing alongside Kachaan at the very start of the exam, and they hadn’t exchanged a single word of strategy. He should probably try to break the ice before they both came to regret it.

“Bakugo—”

“Save it, you shitty extra!” Bakugo spat immediately.

He sighed. That was expected. Bakugo had changed, but not enough to listen to him. His anger was as fiery as ever, but he did not back down. He was not going to fail this exam because some hotheaded asshole thought he was too good to think of a plan.

“We need a plan, Bakugo.” The buzzer sounded, signaling the start. It was already too late. “We’re never going to get anywhere with All Might if—” A gauntleted hand backhanded him across the face and sent Izuku crashing toward the ground.

“I don’t need your dumb power to pass! I’ll do it all on my own!” Bakugo stared for a moment, then stomped off, scowling. Over his shoulder he called, “Stay out of my way.”

Kachaan really had changed, and Izuku made an effort to notice that, but sometimes it really did seem like his temperament was set in stone.

Grimacing, Izuku rose onto his elbows, one hand to his cheek. Thank god he hadn’t been wearing his mask; it might have shattered from the force of that hit. Then he’d be injured before this had even begun, and he needed to face All Might at his best, when he wasn’t worrying about how the gashes would appear through the quirk he was currently under.

Fight the number one hero with a quirk that basically rendered his body useless. Sure. Easy-peasy. 

“You absolute fucking idiot,” Izuku muttered, which Bakugo didn’t seem to hear. He was too far away already, miniature explosions sparking at his fingertips. If the distance hadn’t been enough, those certainly would have, and it was just that thought that made him wonder if they’d ever found a solution to the hearing loss they’d started to notice as kids.

Well, it looked like he was finishing this exam on his own, then. It was a good thing he studied his costume’s instruction manual. 

Instead of staying at the entrance, wide open, a sitting duck, Izuku got up, poorly dusted off his pants, and scurried off to the right where he could find a building to shelter in. Or behind. Maybe in a dumpster of some kind. All Might probably wouldn’t look for him too hard since they had a pretty noticeable time limit. Izuku wasn’t an active threat, so maybe he would look the other way while fighting Bakugo. Surely Nezu hadn’t built in traps to these environments, so All Might was pretty safe from a direct attack, at least from him.

Of course, All Might wasn’t an idiot. He was the number one hero for a reason, and that unfortunately meant that he had common sense. Bakugo wouldn’t be able to subdue him, and once their team’s heavy hitter was down it was Izuku’s job to lead the ‘villain’ in the opposite direction so he could escape. It was only logical that this was their plan, so he had to try a lot harder to make All Might believe differently.

The first thing to do was figure out if this disaster zone had any cameras or things he could tap into. If he did, that would make his job so much easier, but Nezu had probably upped security to make things more difficult. Yay. He still might be able to break in, but there was that time limit to worry about. He didn’t have his laptop with him, but his phone would work well enough since he could use his quirk through it the same way, and there was signal out here. Not only that, he was on the UA network, which should only make things easier. Devices connected through the network were always easier to access through a backway.

With a sigh, he settled down, back to one of the buildings. There had been a massive crash moments earlier, and a few explosions off in the distance. There was Bakugo, already engaged in combat. And here he was, basically a cornered rabbit. If All Might happened upon him it could only be bad. 

One aspect of his quirk was that it helped him look for nearby devices, instead of scanning the whole internet. He could have also done a sweep of UA’s network to narrow it down, but even that would take too long. With that skill, he searched for cameras, speakers, anything that could help.

Nothing. Damn.

He did, however, find a few drones nearby that did have cameras on them, but once he attempted to crack their security it seemed like they were disabled or moved away from the active fight. There were a few watching him, though, so he didn’t bother. Nezu was apparently watching out for any signs of corruption in his machines. He wasn’t even sure how the principal could tell. As far as he was aware, if he didn’t want to leave a trace, he couldn’t. Maybe there were some small details that only the rat could pick out.

Or a dog. Or a bear. He still wasn’t sure.

Izuku pulled himself out of cyberspace, and shook his head to get rid of the lingering spots behind his eyes. There goes that plan. Onto the next, and possibly his only option. After all, his new support gear was just begging to be used.

Chapter 23: Hero Analysis: All Might

Summary:

Exerpt from the writings of Izuku Midoriya

Excerpt from Hero Analysis for the Future # 13:

 

Name: Toshinori Yagi

Hero Name: All Might

Alias(s): The Symbol of Peace

 

Current popularity ranking: #1

Current villain ranking: #2

Current overall hero ranking: #1

 

Age: unknown (estimated 55+) (has been an active hero for approximately 40 years)

Height: 220 cm

Quirk (public): unknown emitter (believed strength enhancer)

Hero Type: Rescue/combatant 

Combat Style: Melee

 

Generic Description:  

All Might is a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He can be seen constantly wearing a smile on his face when rescuing people from villains, though his scowl when fighting them has been described as ‘terrifying’. Have yet to see it recorded, but personal analysis of the expression is intimidating, but not on the level described. 

His personality out of combat has been described as “bubbly”, “enthusiastic”, and on one occasion “like a golden retriever”. He has also been described by one disgruntled hero as “perpetuating the dumb blonde stereotype”. This has not been observed directly.

 

Costume Description:  

All Might’s current costume has no cape, unlike his previous designs. This version seems to be more focused on mobility than flashiness, while keeping a similar iconic look that fits with his brand. The colors are much more bright than they have been in the past, indicating that he’s meant to be noticed and looked to more. It is fitting for the ‘Symbol of Peace’ title he’s been given.

 

Personal Analysis:

All Might has been analyzed and re-analyzed three times in this collection, each time with new information. Due to some recent discoveries, much of this will including redacted information in prior versions and details unavailable in HPSC databases.

All Might’s quirk is named ‘One For All’, and is a stockpiling quirk created by a villain known only as All For One. This power, also called All For One, is an ability able to give, take, and transfer people’s quirks. With his interference, a stockpiling quirk was combined with a transference quirk to create a power that increases as it’s used and as it is passed between users. To my knowledge, All Might has not passed on this quirk to its next holder. He may wait until All For One comes back into the open before attempting to pass it on, as it is viewed as the one quirk that can defeat AFO. Unknown if he had a quirk prior to obtaining it.

There have been several candidates for the quirk, though none of them have been utilized. All Might’s sidekick, Sir Nighteye, was possibly the first, but refused when initially offered. This made All Might shift his focus to the younger generation. Sir Nighteye’s intern, Mirio Togata, is the next current candidate, and it is the main reason why All Might agreed to become a teacher at UA High. He may look for another candidate among the first years instead, as his focus seems to be training with them. Will continue to monitor.

His fighting style is largely melee and relies on close-quarters combat. Though he does have some long range (air pressure) attacks, they rely on a straight line and the ability to see the opponent (as to not hit civilians or destroy buildings). This means he is not as effective against those with mental or long-range quirks. There was an incident several years ago about a villain with an illusion quirk who caused All Might to seemingly go rogue. This was smoothed over by the hero commission and is unknown by the general public. Unknown if he feels guilt over the two casualties.

He has a weak point on his left side, where many of his organs needed to be removed due to a fight with All For One several years ago. Though no one has been able to get close enough to strike there, it is something that All Might leaves mostly unguarded. His general stance is very open and does not protect any part of his body, which in itself is a deterrent to many villains.

His main defense is his speed. Most people are too slow to attack, and he can incapacitate them before they cause more damage. Slowing him down is near impossible. He’s been known to work with broken bones and only remain in the hospital for less than a day before being spotted back on the streets. Pain causing quirks would likely be ineffective.

 

How to kill defeat:

 1) Ideally, a long range mental quirk would be best to incapacitate. All Might is, after all, only human. A knife or blade of some kind can do sufficient damage if he’s unaware, which is hard to do. By creating an illusion that can sever his connection to the real world, one can sneak up on and attack before he notices their presence. This can also work via some kind of brainwashing quirk to make him passive. 

Users with such quirks are rare. Solution may not work.

 

2) Trapping All Might in concrete or some material preventing movement can work similarly to the idea given above. He’s too strong for most substances and it would have to be created fast enough that he is given no time to react. A quirk would also be needed for this, similar to Cementos.

There are no villains in the League with such quirks. Would have to find others.

 

3) Quirk nullification would lower his speed and reaction time, but am unsure if it would make him return to his default form. These abilities are few and far in between and All Might has never been seen in conflict with Eraserhead. Would have to instigate conflict to test this.

Sneaking up on All Might without Eraserhead noticing and dropping use of his quirk is unlikely.

 

4) Brute force is possible, as All Might has no defensive capabilities. Most people cannot even reach this level. The closest is a Nomu created by All For One with regenerative abilities.

The Nomu is less resilient than they believe. Only the part about killing All Might being possible will be given to the League. They do not need to know that it is improbable.

 

5) Distraction and luring into a trap is the best option. All Might is a quick thinker but heroic duties come first. Draw him out with civilians and incapacitate using something similar to idea #3. The recent addition, Dabi’s fire quirk could kill him if caught off guard. All Might is not fireproof.

Edit, post final exam: This is the best solution. He is easily lured astray, but can right himself quickly. Must leave no room for error.

 

********

 

Izumura.

You’ve been hiding this from me.

You thought you could escape.

You thought you could keep me from killing All Might.

You thought that you could become a hero with all you’ve done.

You are not a hero.

You will never be a hero.

They will use you, and they will not be as nice as I am.

*image attachment*

RUN.

 

Notes:

Shorter chapter, and pretty different from what I usually write, but the second half of the final exam will be next! I'm getting some editing done on prior chapters and then I'll be writing it!

Chapter 24: Final Exam - Fin

Notes:

This wasn't edited, I just needed to get it out before I agonized over it any more

Hope y'all enjoy :)

Since he hadn’t used his quirk much recently, Izuku couldn’t say exactly that he was rusty, but he wasn’t as quick as he could be. There was that quiet tug in the back of his mind that was normally there, but it still felt somewhat strange to use. Almost foggy, if he could describe it as such. Like the quirk was honey that he was trying to swim through. And he couldn’t lift his head up without drowning.

It wouldn’t work here, not when speed and time was of the essence. He had to find something else. Luckily, that came in the form of his support gear. The designers, apparently, thought exactly like he did and were concerned about the lack of offensive abilities. Thus, hidden in one of the armor panels, was a little robotic spider, barely smaller than his hand, and easy to miss among the wreckage that All Might had already caused. 

The bot was equipped with a small speaker, a camera, and, even better, a hologram projector. Even without that, he could’ve worked with just the speaker and project his voice through to lure All Might away. With this, though, he could make sure All Might gets glimpses of him and keeps pursuing. 

This all hinged on the fact that All Might would rather incapacitate them quickly, instead of waiting out the time. Thanks to his copious amounts of writing about said hero in a hate-induced rant, he knew that All Might would indeed go for them first. He wasn’t the type to just sit idly by, and every second that ticked by was another he couldn’t remain in his powered up form. 

Izuku again went back into the cameras to see if they’d moved on from him. Some had, and were now staring at wreckage and the remnants of Bakugo’s attempt to fight. Half the city looked destroyed, and it had only been a few minutes. 

If this was a real fight, there would be not only other villains but dozens of other heroes dispatched to the area to help with clean up and evacuation of civilians. If this was a real fight, Deku would be off in some unstable building somewhere helping the villains while keeping tabs on what heroes were close to him so he could reroute them the other way. If this was a real fight, practically everyone would have earpieces he could access to listen to their movements.

…could he access things outside of the testing area? Was that allowed?

No. Better not to risk it. Nezu might praise him for thinking outside of the box, but Eraserhead might disqualify his test for not using what he had on hand. It was hard to say what they’d think. A real hero would have access to all of those resources, but this kind of test was designed to test their reaction and decision-making skills in the moment. Reaching out for help might destroy the whole purpose of this exercise.

Using his quirk was far too risky, he thought, as he looked over the smoke rising from All Might and Bakugo’s clash. It did have the benefit that he could think faster, but All Might was quite speedy himself. He had to hook up the robot that came with his support gear before making his run to the gate, assuming All Might was going to fall for it. Which, at this point, he had to. Just a quick pairing should—hopefully—make the bot accessible via the panel they integrated into his armor. Maybe his quirk was good enough—and fast enough—to work with.

It couldn’t even be considered child’s play to sync the device with his armor. From there, he tested how it moved (well enough. It couldn’t climb walls, but it avoided rubble easily) and linked up the speaker to his mic. He tested that, too, and determined the device to be passable for his plan.

One of the first lessons he’d learned with the League was secrecy. He could leave, and go out as much as he’d like, but that meant nothing if people knew who you were. If he wanted to live normally, there had to be some level of anonymity to maintain his cover. He could not stand out in any way. Luckily, Izuku was always a little plain looking. 

Here, that advice didn’t apply. Now, he’d stand out by failing to be stealthy. He’d pretend to sneak around, get caught, and turn the rest of this exam into a game of hide and seek with the number one hero. 

Hopefully, his ‘teammate’ wouldn’t interfere with his plans too much.

Izuku formatted his hologram as a direct representation of his current appearance (apparently the suit had full body scanning, which he wasn’t sure he liked), clunky armor and all. Then, he tried to see what areas he could ‘brighten up’ without All Might seeing a difference. He had to be noticeable. He had to sell this. 

Another explosion sounded in the distance, closer than the last one. If All Might didn’t know where he was, he would soon, and he had to be spotted before he sent out the robot. So, once he was certain it was completed and working, he ran for the site of the last several rumbling sounds of buildings collapsing. It wasn’t too far away, but it was far enough of a jog that he realized maybe the buildings were just that structurally unsound from the two of them going at it.

He hid around the corner from the source of the explosions, not quite at the right angle to see Bakugo or All Might, but he could hear their conversation. Well, it was more like All Might talking at him, while Bakugo let out animalistic sounds and hurled curses at the number one hero. He distinctly heard his name mentioned, and decided to stay back.

As he watched, there was a stirring in the back of his mind that was more than just alarming. It was evil, malevolent, and the longer he was close to the number one hero the worse it got. Izuku needed to back off, and soon, but All Might had to see him first. From there, it was time to test both the cloaking tech they integrated into his suit and the little robot that his entire plan hinged on. 

He was about to step out and reveal himself when his body froze. Just like the weeks ago, when he was face to face with a bunch of heroes all ready to arrest him, his body no longer functioned the way he wanted it to. He couldn’t move his legs, or his head, or even make his fingers twitch. Izuku was more stuck than being trapped in Todoroki’s ice, and this time it was All For One’s doing. There wasn’t any voice in his head, but there was no other option to have caused this.

And All Might had noticed something was up.

His body stiffened where he was stood over Bakugo’s, lying limp on the ground, and turned his head to the side, scanning.

Izuku tried to back off, but he couldn’t. Every thought to move his feet was killed before the command made his way down his nervous system. It didn’t even feel like his blood was pumping through his veins.

“Nezu?” All Might called, and Izuku was shocked to learn that he had an earpiece. In direct combat with a hacker, no less. Ignoring the fact that he definitely should have been able to sense it, Izuku could work with it. Could he use his voice changer to sound like the principal? Maybe if his body would actually function, then he could adjust it. Cyberspace might work to modulate the sound, but using his quirk here was dangerous. 

“Nezu?” All Might repeated. “Something…something is wrong.”

Right on cue, Izuku activated his thankfully still-working quirk to modulate his voice changer from its usual half-warp. But he didn’t pick Nezu’s voice to speak into All Might’s ear. Instead, he quickly picked the next closest voice that might distract him from where he stood, frozen.

“Is it?” Izuku said in All For One’s voice. “Is it now, All Might?”

Izuku was suddenly able to move again. He’d frozen halfway off-balance, and stumbled out into the open, right into All Might’s path.

“Bakugo!” he screeched, with only half a mind to prevent the voice going to All Might too. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sudden spell was broken. All Might startled from where he stood by Kachaan’s eyes flying open and sending an explosion up into the hero’s jaw. Izuku took the moment to bolt, tapping at the screen on his arm to send the robot running in the opposite direction and to start projecting his hologram. Luckily, All Might took the opportunity to deal with Bakugo first, slamming him into a nearby building while the hologram headed back to the start of the exam. It gave him a few precious seconds to activate his cloak, steady his breathing, and run for the straightest path to the exit, dodging street signs and broken glass. Then, once he was certain that he was far enough away, he opened the panel to watch what his robot was seeing.

There was nothing, at first. Izuku had to smack the side of the device to make sure it was working properly. Then, as the dust started to clear, Izuku realized that the little robot was hiding under a small piece of concrete, with All Might standing several meters away, searching.

He was speaking. Izuku had to really quickly sync up the audio to hear it.

“Nezu,” All Might was saying again. “Nezu, is there anyone in the area?”

Silence.

“Nezu?”

Despite how far away they were, Izuku decided to reply for him, really quickly halting to modulate how he’d sound. “This is an exam,” he spoke, and Nezu’s voice came out, “and you’re on your own for this. Rest assured, security is not an issue.”

Then, he got back to running. How big was this fake city, anyway? Had to be at least a mile, right?

All Might turned away from his robot, and headed off in the other direction. The robot followed, and projected a hologram of Izuku running the opposite way. It even managed to make the sound of his boots hitting the ground. How the hell was that possible?

The hero took the bait. He ran for the robot, who fazed out the hologram, and scurried off in a different direction before making it reappear. All Might changed direction, and so did the little robot.

It went on like that for a few minutes, at most. Enough for Izuku to get a healthy distance away from the center of the faux city and to make All Might head off close to one of the borders of the zone. 

As he was watching the feed from the bot, a large chunk of rubble broke off a nearby building, probably a shockwave from All Might’s footsteps, and slammed down in front of it no more than a few inches away. Then, another. Then another, and the camera went fuzzy for a moment. The fake footsteps that the bot was making sputtered out.

Izuku tried to take the controls manually. He urged it to step forward, and then to step back.

The robot didn’t move.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, trying to reboot the thing while running. The device was glitching, not putting his voice—or any sound—through. He didn’t have eyes on the bot nor on the actual hologram. All he could go by was bits and pieces of error messages. There was even a second camera on it that he couldn’t pull up the feed for because that would mean jeopardizing his pace. 

He was too close to the gate to stop now, and All Might was far too close for comfort, given how speedy he was. With the support gear no longer working right, it was only a matter of time before the hero caught on to his plan and booked it for the gate.

His run turned into a flat out sprint, high-tailing it to the exit as fast as he could. Though he’d initially been focused a little more on stealth for the sake of keeping his cover, there was no way he’d slow down now.

BOOM. 

Izuku winced. There it was.

“SHIGARAKI!” All Might thundered, somewhere off in the distance. There was a crash, a loud sound as one of the buildings started to crumple. Either All Might was inside and decided that the fastest way to get to him was to destroy half of the ‘city’, or Bakugo had destroyed enough support beams that it crashed down under the force of All Might’s immediate movement. 

The number one hero figured him out. It really was only a matter of time. And now, with no more gear to save him, the only thing left to do was run. With All Might on his tail. Sure. Easy enough.

Izuku put on an extra burst of speed, listening to the heavy stomps as All Might was trying to catch up. The gate was only meters away, he was right there–

“YOUNG–”

All Might didn’t finish his words. He had recognized Izuku’s decoy a second too late. The buzzer went off, interrupting him, and Izuku’s feet were safely beyond the boundary.

Fuck. Yes.

As he was celebrating, All Might approached him, looking more than a little shaken about the whole encounter.

“Young Shigaraki,” he said. “What was that you did before you appeared?”

And Izuku plastered the most innocent, confused expression on his face.

“Did what?”

“The voice,” All Might pressed. “The one speaking to me in my earpiece. The presence.”

Izuku shrugged. “I didn’t use your earpiece. Figured you might see it coming.”

The hero was momentarily taken aback. Then, he cautiously asked, “Does the name All For One mean anything to you?”

He maintained the innocent look.

“Who?”

 

********

 

Later, All Might asked Nezu if young Shigaraki had done anything to his earpiece.

Nezu gleefully replied that it had not been tampered with.

Chapter 25: The Summer Camp

As it turned out, the whole ‘passing the final exams’ was another logical ruse to get them to do their best. Those who failed were still going to the summer camp with the rest of them, they just had to take a few remedial lessons instead of doing everything that their classmates were doing.

When Izuku heard that piece of information, he couldn’t help but audibly “bruh” in front of the entire class. It nearly earned him a detention. If Iida hadn’t stepped in, he was sure he’d be writing a ten page essay now.

Once everyone had calmed down from their stress-induced high, on their way back to the dorms everyone agreed to set a time to head to the mall and prepare for the trip. Instead of all getting permission separately to go, they decided to go as a group. Safety in numbers, and all that.

Izuku was also invited along. Having nothing better to do, he accepted. As long as they didn’t see his real face, everything was fine. 

On the day of, he gathered his things, headed to his contact to change his features, and headed for the mall with the group. They all met up near one of the entryways, this one nearest to the arcade (and the hero shop, which he skirted around once he noticed the vigilante Deku merch, which he wasn’t sure was legal). They ended up blocking a lot of the path for other people until they decided to move into the slightly more busy food court. A couple of the girls rushed off with Kirishima to get smoothies while they waited for a few more stragglers, and were happily sipping on them by the time Sero and Kaminari walked up, having the decency to look sheepish. 

“We lost track of time,” Kaminari admitted. 

“Got sidetracked,” Sero added.

Before Iida could chastise them, Kirishima loudly called, “hey, no worries! Glad you made it!”

After indeed a few standard Iida lectures, the group split to go shop for their own things. Hagakure and Mina went looking for clothes. Satou dragged Tokoyami to go looking for plastic food containers. Aoyama (to no one’s surprise) took off for the nearby deli to look for cheese. Even Iida ran off after someone had notified him that what he wanted was in very limited supply. Before long, it was just Izuku and Uraraka, who held a half finished boba tea in her hand.

“So,” he said, after everyone else had cleared out, “looks like it’s just you and me left.”

“Yeah.” She took a sip of her drink.

“So, what are you going to shop for today? I want to find a few more compact pieces of tech that I can carry around.”

“Well, I mostly just need bug spray.” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “I’ll be quick, so do you mind if I split off for a minute? We can meet back up right after.”

Deku was a loner since as long as he’d had that name, and he’d lost most friendly contact by the time he fully adopted it as his own. He’d grown used to it. It was normal, and he was okay with it. Despite all that, he was really hoping to get to know some of his classmates during their little outing. Now that he’d spent so long just talking professionally with clients and holding his tongue with the League, talking to other people without the imminent threat of death if his promises weren’t kept, was nice speaking with people he could just be a kid around.

“Yeah,” he found himself saying. “Sure. I’ll hang around here.” And off she went, vanishing into the crowd only a moment later.

Well. They came together as a class, but now he was left alone. That checked out. They didn’t really know him, after all, and though Iida and Uraraka seemed to be getting close with him they still needed to do their own things. 

Then, out of nowhere, someone called out, “Oh, cool! Someone from UA!”

Izuku scarcely had a moment to prepare himself before there was an arm slung over his shoulder and the—unfortunately— very familiar slender figure practically hanging off of him. Still, he looked up to see a black hooded figure, and long, stringy, pale blue hair.

“Izumura Shigaraki,” Tomura said, a particularly evil grin on his face. “Here you are. Somehow, this meeting feels like destiny.” A hand crept up to his neck and wrapped four fingers around his throat. “You know, since I haven’t seen you around since before the sports festival. Calm down and wipe that look off your face. After all, I’m just an old friend you ran into at the mall.”

“Tomura!” he hissed once he’d gotten over his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

The hand clamped down on his windpipe. “For a chat. Just a friendly chat. Oh, and of course if you try to run or fight me in any way…well, it’ll be fast. In a matter of seconds you will be nothing but dust and powdered bone.”

Breath audibly quivering, Izuku said, “If you do that here where there are so many people, a hero will come and catch you in no time. You couldn’t escape.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Tomura admitted. Then, he pointed out at the massive crowd. “But just look at these sheep! Any one of them could use their quirks and start a massacre. But here they are. Smiling. They think that laws and rules will protect them because they think everyone has their same morals. They think that nothing bad could ever happen to them. After you, I could kill twenty, thirty, maybe even more before a pro hero showed up to stop me.”

“I get it,” Izuku rushed, trying to force himself to relax. “I get it. Let’s talk.”

They ended up finding a small seat where they could sit down and talk close by. By no small miracle, nobody looked twice at them despite the fact that Izuku currently had a hand crushing his throat.

“You’ve been slacking,” Tomura said after several tense minutes. “You haven’t shown up. And Kurogiri told me that you’ve moved out most of your things.”

“I haven’t been back,” he gasped, “because I can’t trust that you wont backstab me after your nomus attacked me.”

“You were in the way. It’s not my fault they decided to grab you.”

“I barely survived that! And anyway, I’ve been doing your work, so I don’t see the problem here.”

“The problem,” Tomura drawled, “is that people don’t care about the League of Villains.

“The attack on UA, the nomus I released at Hosu, all of it was upstaged by you.”

“No one’s even giving me a second thought. Why is that? Despite all your claims about being a villain, all you do is go out and play hero. Then…” he turned to face Izuku, “what do you think the difference between us is?”

“What’s the difference?” Izuku tried his best to relax. His hands clenched his pants. “I don’t understand you. Your goals. You’re murderers. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t agree with anything you do. I’d be lying if I didn’t agree with the hero killer, either.” He had the courage to look up, though he wasn’t looking at Tomura. Instead, he looked out at the laughing, smiling, happy crowd. 

“But you’re going about it all wrong. I can’t understand you, and it’s because the hero killer and I have something in common. We’re inspired by All Might. Sure, he’s not the greatest guy, and sometimes he’s a real idiot, but he’s a good hero.

“That night, Stain respected what I do. Enough to put his own pride aside and let a hero and an attempted murderer live. But he doesn’t destroy things just because he finds it fun. Even when things were going poorly for him, he doesn’t abandon his mission, like you did. Even if the way he acted was wrong, he held true to his beliefs. He let me convince him that they could change their ways, and that it would be a better lesson for their pursuit of heroics than murdering them ever would be. That’s the difference.” He finally looked to the side, and almost jumped out of his seat.

Tomura was grinning ear to ear. Literally. His smile was stretched wider than the human body naturally could go, grotesque and warped and even more horrifying with his flaky and cracked skin. The corners of his lips were pulled tight enough that tiny beads of blood slowly started to bubble up.

“That’s like a weight off my chest,” he said slowly. “I see it now. All the dots connected. Why the hero killer makes me so angry, why you irritate me so much. Everything makes sense!” If possible, he smiled even wider. “It’s him. The problem is All Might. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. That’s the most rational explanation.” 

He laughed, the sound maniacal and deranged. “I didn’t see it, even though it was right in front of me the whole time! What was I worrying about so much? It’s simple. He’s why these morons are able to smile so thoughtlessly. They feel safe because that garbage pro is smiling thoughtlessly too, as if there’s no one in the whole world he can’t save. Oh, I’m glad we had this chat. I feel better. I can’t thank you enough, Izumura. I don’t need to change my ways at all!”

While Tomura was talking, Izuku tried to look away from his face as best he could. His head twitched to the side, following a little girl who got just a bit too close to them for comfort, and Tomura noticed what he was doing.

“Whoops, don’t struggle now. Unless you want to die. You want all these people here to crumble as well?”

“I-”

“Uh, Shigaraki? Is that a friend?”

He froze, where his hands were slowly trying to reach for his neck to pry Tomura off of him. There was his classmate, standing meters from them, her expression getting more and more terrified by the millisecond. There was that flash of alarming recognition in her eyes.

“Hey,” Uraraka said weakly, voice trembling. “Let go of him.” It sounded more like a question than a demand.

Heart hammering, looking back and forth between them, Izuku cried out, “This is nothing! Everything’s fine! Just stay back!” Villain or not, he couldn’t let her die. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the hand vanished from his throat, leaving Izuku coughing and sputtering, trying to fix his breathing. Tomura pulled his hands away, waving them in the air innocently and smiling.

“Oh, you’re here with a friend? I didn’t know!” He turned to Izuku, “Sorry about that.” Then, lowering his voice, he added, “if you try following me, I’ll get angry.” Tomura got to his feet quickly, completely ignoring Uraraka, and began to walk away.

“Shigaraki!” The name felt foreign in his mouth. He’d been calling him Tomura for years. “I have a question too.”

Tomura halted, back still to them.

“What does All For One want? What is he after?”

The back of the black hoodie was taunting him as Tomura shrugged. “Who knows, really. But here’s a little word of advice, friend.” He turned away, and started moving. “Be careful. The next time we meet on these terms I’ll likely have to kill you.”

Between one moment and the next, he vanished into the laughing crowd.

The shopping mall was temporarily closed, after that. Local heroes and police in the area conducted a massive sweep, only to find nothing.

Later, he was taken to the police station. Detective Tsukauchi, who was investigating the League, interviewed him. He told the detective everything, including details on Shigaraki’s appearance and the rough outline of the conversation they’d had, leaving out some parts. The detective was, thankfully, on his side and knew who he really was, which wasn’t entirely surprising.

“Thank you for your report, Shigaraki,” Tsukauchi said after they were done. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to get some leads on their location from this.” He walked Izuku out, then asked another officer, Sansa, a man with a cat mutation quirk, to take him home. With the excitement of the day, it was all Izuku could do to check that the quirk altering his appearance still worked, and to then collapse into bed.

The next morning, the class arrived at UA bright and early to get on the busses, where they met up with class 1-B. One of them, yet another loud blond, was trying to boast about how much greater their class was, while everyone else was trying their hardest to ignore him and get along. One of the girls, he assumed it was their class rep, ended up knocking him out to drag him aboard.

“Alright everyone!” Iida called, halfway on the bus already and totally ignorant to what just happened. “Line up in seat order!”

The bus ride itself was uneventful, but they got off only an hour ride’s in to meet the heroes that would be teaching them for the summer, who then announced that the rest of the journey from there was to fight their way through the forest. Pixie-Bob used her quirk to send them careening off the mountainside and into the trees, and then summoned hoards of dirt monsters that they had to escape. As it was, it was basically the class’s powerhouses taking down or immobilizing the targets while the scouts acted as lookout. Izuku was practically useless here, but he was speedy and managed to get a few other classmates out of harms way while the others subdued the beasts.

Like Aizawa, the heroes had made a ‘rational deception’ and claimed that it would take them only three hours, so around noon, to make it through the woods. It took them the better part of the day to actually get through, and by then everyone was sweaty, aching, and more than a little grumpy since half of them hadn’t even eaten breakfast. They got to bathe and have dinner then, so it wasn’t too bad at the end, even if he was regretting coming.

Then, at five thirty in the morning the next day, Aizawa gathered them all and told them in no uncertain terms that while they had improved as heroes and their skill had indeed gotten better, they didn’t improve on the fundamental basics of their quirks.

“This will be so hard that you’ll feel like you’re dying.” With an evil grin, he added, “Let’s hope you all survive.”

At first, the Wild Wild Pussycats didn’t know what to do with him. Technological quirks like his were rare, and hardly studied. It didn’t impact his body, or use his energy, or even his mind. It was reliant on outside resources that they were technically supposed to be away from during the camp. 

His ability was technically an emitter quirk, but the applications were strange and it didn’t really affect anyone else physically, or himself. Intelligence quirks also tended to fall under this weird category, but Nezu’s quirk, IQ, was classified as just a normal run of the mill emitter type, if you missed the part about him being an animal. Just because of this, they had a hard time coming up with how to improve it.

This was where his analysis skill came into play. He’d analyzed his own quirk over and over the more he used it, and was able to pass on a lot of that information to the heroes in order to formulate a training regiment. It left his body vulnerable, but the speed at which he was able to access it was in the fractions of a second. While most of the other students needed to improve speed, or output, he didn’t. What output could he have other than getting the information he wanted?

They asked how his quirk worked. He said he could visualize systems and access them remotely, as long as they were connected to the internet or attached to a device that was, which was how he got into the heroes’ earpieces when they were on patrol. In addition, he was able to get into computers that didn’t have that connection with physical contact with the device. This ability he didn’t have much practice with, given that most of the time he didn’t risk actually breaking in to places with secure information.

All of the information he compiled ended up in them attempting to improve his speed anyway, specifically with computers not attached to anything online. The download speed of such information was barely sped up, and oftentimes he ended up needing to flip through nearby cameras to ensure that nobody was sneaking up on him, which was part two of his training. One of them hung around, and he had to get the information, and get out. This resulted in his physical combat being labeled as ‘passable’ and he was then thrown to the wolves (Aizawa) and eaten (bruised black and blue) and his bones chewed on while he was still alive (given a capture weapon and taught how to use it). Thus, his ‘quirk training’ ended up not really being about his quirk in the end.

In the evenings, he relaxed with the rest of the students. Both Iida Tenya and Uraraka Ochaco ended up becoming pretty close with him, and the rest of the class was pretty easygoing and accepting of some of his more eccentric qualities. Some of the girls even asked him to analyze their quirks when they’d heard him muttering about it under his breath.

Like usual, Bakugo was another matter. He was as pissy as usual, even if the redhead managed to keep him settled during most of the time.

Since Aizawa had accompanied them on the trip, he allowed Izuku to step out in the late nights and early mornings to make sure his appearance still matched the one he’d showed his classmates. It was surprisingly kind of him, but Izuku was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If his homeroom teacher was willing to keep his secret, then he was definitely going to take advantage of it.

Now that he thought about it, the extra physical combat training was probably some kind of punishment for it. Oh, well. Not like the bruises hurt too badly.

(He got paired up with Tiger less than a day after. He regretted everything.)

Chapter 26: Preparation for Licensing

Notes:

Okay, a few things I've changed that I'll make note of here:

Izuku's quirk was originally called 'Hacker'. That name has been changed to 'Cyber Abyss', so it's more of a description of what the quirk does. And it finally connects to the name of the fic :)

I've updated tags, and some of y'all have noticed that I now have an ending chapter count. The rest of the fic has been plotted out! Should even include an epilogue.

A few prior chapters have been updated, but not seriously so theres been no major plot point changes. Mostly grammar and sentence structure with a few added details. If you've been going back and rereading, you may notice a few changes. I think everything should be consistent now, though.

Class 1-B arrived the next morning, while class 1-A was already up and working on their quirks. Why it took their bus a whole day to make it into the forest that their class was able to walk through in a few hours, Izuku had no idea. What he did know was that they were at least all well rested and that it ticked him off to no end. Why did he have to get Aizawa as a homeroom teacher? Vlad King was reasonable, if a bit standoffish. At least he didn’t have a reputation for expelling his whole class on the first day.

They were at least thrown directly into training, which was a small consolation. 

Tiger worked him to the bone in combat, much worse than Aizawa ever did. Where he was sore with Aizawa, his muscles were jelly with Tiger.

That wasn’t to say that the hero wasn’t a good teacher. Tiger was very skilled and very informative. It was his methods that Izuku felt weren’t suited for his body, even though they most certainly were. He hadn’t collapsed yet from exhaustion, and that was a mercy he knew that he wasn’t going to get. The heroes had thought this camp through.

Tiger allowed (well, more like forced) others to spar with him, which ended up being Kirishima and Tetsutetsu most frequently. They could block his attacks with ease, and he ended up with split knuckles and bruised fingers within a few minutes. Izuku made the mistake of complaining to the hero, hoping to at least get some gloves, but somehow the training got even worse. He took back everything he said about the heroes: they are terrible, awful people that feed upon the suffering of others like vampires. Going back to the League would be less painful than this. 

At night, they were split into boys and girls and allowed to go bathe in the hot springs, which was meant to be a relaxer for their tired muscles. For those like Todoroki or Kachaan, who were in hot water for most of the day, it was only mildly tortuous. Thankfully it wasn’t near boiling. Their resident Pomeranian might have spontaneously combusted.

The air was clear. There were very little lights aside from lanterns hanging on old wooden posts, so they could see the stars. Everyone was too tired to crack jokes or splash each other with water, so instead they all sat, some buried up to their nose, relaxing. Nobody spoke. They could all just exist.

This was nice, he thought, looking up at the night sky. This was very nice. 

It was later ruined when Mineta tried to climb the large wall separating them and the girls, but for a good several minutes it was nice to just exist in pleasant company.

The rest of the camp went by without issue. Despite how he wasn’t using his quirk all that much, Izuku felt like he was improving. When he sat down to meditate, and slipped into cyberspace, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the corrupting red symbols that he’d seen before had retreated, just slightly. Instead of lines of pure red, they were now interjected with the usual toxic green. All For One was still there. Izuku couldn’t feel his presence in the quirk itself, but when he was actively observing there was the unique feel of something wrong. It made the hair on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably, those deeply buried animal instincts telling him to run.

He, of course, could not. This was inside his quirk.

At one point, Izuku debated telling Aizawa about how All For One could potentially control him. Then, he decided that the hero was not an idiot and probably had some idea of what was going on, regardless of what he said about it. It was probably better kept to himself.

He did, however, email his findings to Nezu who, like him, had a penchant for quirk analysis. Nezu, who apparently never slept, emailed back thanking him for the information and asked for a more in depth explanation as to how his quirk functioned. The principal had more than enough opportunities to rat him out and did not, so Izuku felt comfortable enough to share the analysis he’d had spinning around in his head for years. This was basically selling himself out, but Nezu did promise to pay him and he wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that the League had stopped putting money in his account. So, it worked out well for him.

When the camp was over, he went back to classes as normal. Kenji (the man he’d been visiting to hide his face) had started asking a few too many questions when he came back day after day, and those daily visits had taken up more than he wanted to spend. It was probably a good idea to not only take a break from people, but to also get some work done. There had yet to be an explicit contract with the heroes stating that he would not sell their information, but he cherry picked the ‘bad’ ones (Izuku was still at least somewhat convinced of Stain’s ideology) and visited the forums for the first time in a while. He didn’t need to advertise. People knew who he was.

Though, he was at least a little mortified when he discovered a “Deku Supremacy” board. With hundreds of contributors. And art.

Izuku just pretended he never saw it, as if it would erase the images that were now perpetually burned into his eyeballs. Well. If it exists…

People took the bait. Within a day, he had no fewer than three buyers, all after a few more recent analysis. He didn’t even have to do too much extra work. Most of the heroes in Japan, with the exception of some undercover and underground heroes, he had at least some information on. Now, thanks to his clients’ carelessness, he had information on a few criminal groups as well. He’d pass that on to the heroes if they ended up doing something he didn’t like.

Once he was sure that the money was in his account, he sent the information, and cleared their chats from his feed. Never let it be said that Deku was careless. He preferred the spot at the dealer’s head. And now he had a little bit of extra cash to throw around. This lesser information was still worth hundreds of thousands. No doubt it was stolen, but he didn’t particularly care where it originally came from. Sure, some small part of his morality screamed at him, but Izuku needed to survive and this way he wasn’t getting his hands dirty to do it.

According to Aizawa, the next step in their training, especially due to the amount of villains they’d had to deal with already, was getting licensed. They would be granted permission to take the provisional licensing exam as first-years, which meant that they could use their quirks in emergency scenarios without repercussions. This, of course, was great for Deku, who could now claim self preservation if he needed to use it outside of UA, but it meant that the exam was his next biggest worry. While most people were training hard inside, crafting their ultimate moves, Deku spent his time outside, with Aizawa and, shockingly, Shinsou. Both of them were being trained with the capture weapon, and his teacher thought it more efficient to train them both.

Thank god he wasn’t wearing his Izumura disguise. It was lucky enough that Shinsou didn’t recognize his voice. 

Shinsou was not as good at hand to hand as Izuku, but he had a quirk on his side that could help. From what Izuku discovered, any verbal confirmation, whether it be a word or a sound in response to what he had said, was enough to trigger the effects. And once you were caught, it was all over. Izuku spent at least ten minutes gushing over it, its applications, and just the sheer science of how it worked. Shinsou would be a great hero if he worked hard.

It was only after the first training session that he realized that Aizawa could have used that quirk to interrogate him. If All For One had a quirk like that, he surely would have used it by now. There was just another tick in the tally of benefits that the heroes were offering. The longer he stayed, the more he kept adding more.

The days continued. Walk up to UA in his training gear, get kicked on his ass more times than he’d like to admit, end up in Recovery Girl’s office, rinse and repeat. He ran into more people than was comfortable, especially since some of them could definitely place his voice, and played off being a student in one of the support courses. It explained his injuries better than being a general education kid could, and even the teachers didn’t bat an eye any more. 

Izuku was told that initially the teachers were quite apprehensive having him in their midst. They didn’t yet know that he and Izumura were the same, but they knew enough to know that the strange boy sometimes wandering around in a gym uniform was none other than Deku. Many avoided him. Vlad King ended up cornering him once to threaten him into compliance, which was ridiculous. Why would he try something surrounded by heroes? 

As time went on, though, the teachers lowered their guard and became something almost resembling friendly. Nezu invited him up to his office quite often, and mostly asked Izuku to observe some recordings from the hero classes and make suggestions based on their quirks. He was even paid for his time, and it was quite fair given the standard rates for quirk analysis. It was enough for food and even a few pieces of hard-to-find Eraserhead merch.

But, as he watched one of the videos from the USJ from the first years’ training, a thought occurred.

Everyone else was making their own ultimate moves. Why shouldn’t he have one? 

His quirk wasn’t suited for it, no, but Izuku didn’t care. He’d make a good move to show off if it killed him, because he’d be damned if there wasn’t something he could do to defend himself.

Cyber Abyss had no defensive capabilities. In fact, he would consider it as having negative defense capabilities, since it left his body vulnerable. It didn’t help that he could annihilate someone’s system or data if his body was found while he didn’t have eyes on it. He’d be dead before he even knew what hit him. 

An ideal world would have him away from the action and protected by whoever went out into the field with him, he would probably end up being an underground hero. They tended to work on their own, or maybe in twos or threes. Team ups were rare, and unless he wanted to get picked up by the Hero Commission for their dirty dealings, he needed to figure out something now.

Izuku’s first bit of testing was fruitless. After more than a bit of studying (and repeated trips to the nurse’s office when she wasn’t there), he was able to confirm what he already knew: when he used his quirk, his consciousness traveled inside the machine, leaving his body essentially braindead. Any motion was muscle reflex, and he could do literally nothing to change that. It was just how the quirk functioned.

Didn’t mean it didn’t suck though. 

Okay, next plan: play into the braindead role. That could only be kept up as long as he had physical contact with a device that could connect to the internet (or, in extreme cases, any device that he could temporarily trap his mind in). His suit had enough tech that wearing just about any component of it would make him able to use his quirk.

He ended up trying this after a long day of training that he really wanted to get out of. Asking Shinsou to take his phone away while Aizawa had his back turned was the easy part. The hard part was the horrifying realization that his mind stayed in cyberspace when he lost contact with the device, as long as he had entered the world of the internet, and not just the basic components of the device. There were no cameras, but Izuku could feel that he was stuck. That link back to his body was gone. 

Admittedly, he panicked. He searched long and hard for something, anything, that would get him out of it. The cameras in UA’s halls were utilized as he watched Eraserhead carry his body to Recovery Girl. There was barely enough space in the frenzy of alarm to have half a mind to send his teacher a text saying to put his phone in contact with his skin.

Just like that, he had a link. It wasn’t something he could really put his finger on, especially since nothing in cyberspace changed physically, but he could feel something tethering him back to his body, almost on the surface of a deep pool of water.

A deep breath, and then he opened his eyes, lying on a cot. There was a cold cloth over his head, and Recovery Girl was actively fussing over him. On the other side stood Eraserhead, looking more than relieved, which was a stark contrast to his usual controlled demeanor.

Izuku was warned to never try it again.

He didn’t want to.

Notes:

Let me know what you thought! Been dying to finally mention this aspect to his quirk, it's been a long time coming :)

Chapter 27: The Licensing Arc

Notes:

Hey y'all! Happy new year. Let's hope 2025 brings good tidings and that the grapes actually work!

On the day of the license exam, Izuku was up bright and early, out the door before the sun rose, and then walking to UA only a few hours later with freshly brown hair and a few centimeters taller. He took the train to the nearest station, ducked around people who identified his uniform as a UA student, and made it there with five minutes to spare. He was then slotted in place next to Iida and Todoroki, the latter of which seemed to want nothing to do with him, the former chastizing him for not being at least ten minutes before the bell. 

They filed on the bus in seat order, and thankfully Izuku was allowed to sit alone. He wanted the time to sleep, or maybe surf the internet for information on what the hero exam contained.

An hour later, according to the time on his phone, he was rudely (not really) awakened by Asui, and nudged out of his seat.

Aizawa gave them a brief speech after they stepped off the bus, which was interrupted by some students from another school that he didn’t really pay attention to. They seemed rather excited to see his class, which made sense. UA was the most famous school around.

He had the sudden urge to straighten his tie, and did just that.

“Hey, is that Eraser?!” Miss Joke, his mind supplied as he glanced over. Those bright colors were unmistakable, and she was leading a class of her own.

Mr. Aizawa actually flinched, sinking down into his shoulders as the woman cried out, “I’d know that scowl anywhere!”

And that was Izuku’s cue to busy himself in his phone.

Not two minutes later, his hand was pulled up, and he was face to face with a boy from Ketsubutsu High who looked exactly like the false face he was wearing.

Huh. Maybe Kenji had a relation to this kid.

“We look just alike! It must be fate that we meet here together to become heroes!”

Izuku carefully extracted his hand. “Uh, sure. I guess.” What else was he supposed to say?

Thankfully, the guy moved on without much fuss, and they were ushered off into the exam room. 

The rest of their introduction went about as well as he expected for a bunch of first and second years of various hero schools jammed into a room with one another. At the front, the proctor looked beyond tired and already done with life. Unlike Izuku, who was mostly a morning person, this guy seemed like he needed to bathe in a vat of coffee before he could try this speech again. Still, knowing that he needed to score in the top hundred people was a little worrying. Over fifteen hundred examinees were there, and he was just a first year hero student without a physical quirk. What was he meant to do?

The first part of the exam just needed to eliminate two people each. For now, he should just try to focus on that. They were electrical, and very obviously hooked up to the testing system, so just a little bit of quirk usage and he would be in. Whether him technologically triggering them counted remained to be seen. Maybe the instructor was tired enough to let it slide. 

There was a little bit more explanation that Izuku was really only half paying attention to, when something happened. Heavy sounding gears ground against each other like they were filled with grit, and then the roof opened up above their heads. Soon to follow were the walls, which slammed into the dirt with a heavy thump to reveal their arena, which was only a few times more massive than UA’s.

Izuku mentally facepalmed. It was cool, but so, so unnecessary. 

Evidently, the proctor had the same thought. “All this budget,” he moaned, “and for what?”

The man then mentioned something about everybody having their preferred zones and that they were free to split up, but something about it struck Izuku strangely. This seemed wrong. Not the explanation of today’s exam: that made sense. But other schools kept giving them strange looks, which he initially attributed to them being UA students. What if it was more than that?

When they were handed their targets and balls, he got a little more time to think, and some time to hack into the network that the targets were using. Everyone had an identification number and a name attached to each of their targets, along with their school and class. It seemed like an awful lot of information that they didn’t need. Maybe it was for ease of statistics? But that wouldn’t make sense unless they had a need to calculate that immediately.

This first round was elimination of the majority, which was information freely given by the proctor in his speech about having “higher quality heroes”. UA was known to produce those, so why—

They were targets. That was the only way this made sense. UA’s students were well known, and their quirks were broadcast across Japan. A known quirk was easier to counter than an unknown one. Nobody said anything to them about all the schools going for them, but that wasn’t something Aizawa would have informed them, would it? He didn’t seem like the type.

“Hey,” Izuku called out, and then hesitated. Most of the class stopped, and turned to face him. Those who didn’t were probably going to head off on their own no matter what he said. But this needed to get to their ears as well.

“What’s up?” Uraraka asked.

“The first round. Like the proctor said, it’s elimination. Everyone else knows our quirks, right? Because of the sport’s festival. It’s better to go up against a known than an unknown.” Surely the other schools would go for UA to eliminate them first. “I think we should stick together. We can fight alongside each other. If we don’t, everyone else will come after us, and we’ll all lose this chance.”

“That makes sense!” Iida chopped the air. “We should stay together as a class!”

Out of everyone, only Kachaan and Todoroki decided to not stick with the group. By extent, that also meant that Kirishima and Kaminari would head off. Still, over half of the class was more than he expected, if any at all were to listen to him. He’d have thought that they wouldn’t trust him as they didn’t know each other all that well. Maybe the summer camp earned him a few points with the others.

Right as he expected, UA was surrounded in seconds. Many of the students who had been quite pleasant to be around an hour ago now stood with murder on their faces and support items aimed in their direction. When they moved as a group, the others countered using the same.

One of them, the student that had been overly friendly earlier, slammed his hands into the ground. “Tremoring Earth!” he cried, and every bone in Izuku’s body started vibrating from the stress on the rocks below.

Jiro jumped in front of the group. “I’ve got this!” she called out, and her earphone jacks slammed into the ground. He couldn’t quite hear the frequency that she was using, but it made the hair on his arms stand up and a feeling of impending doom crawl up his throat.

Under the strain of the soundwaves against the other quirk’s attack, the ground shuddered and began splitting. It cracked all the way under his feet, and when everything started twisting and falling Izuku went with it. Though he was sliding and slipping for only a few seconds, it seemed like hours until he was on steady ground again. Then, when he got up, he realized that he’d been isolated from everyone else in a jagged clearing of rock.

He was out in the open. Though nobody else was around, he needed cover stat. If he was alone, he was done for, and the other schools had much more time to work together and make decisions in battle. Class 1-A was behind by a whole year of training compared to everyone, and especially someone like him was merely a sitting UA duck for them to pick off.

The thought came too late. Out of nowhere, a girl came springing over his shoulder and tagged him with a ball. He spun around, a hand flying to the target she’s just touched, but it was too late. He was down one, with only two to go. Thankfully, the girl had put distance in between them.

“Tag!” She sprung back again. “You’re it!”

Izuku crouched down low, the other student observing him. She was from Shiketsu, based on the uniform. He’d never officially met anyone from over there, but they were the partner school to UA. They were on par with the curriculum, the teachers, even the quality of heroes that they produced. UA might be the best of the best, but Shiketsu was its lesser known, just as cool cousin. The one that was always overshadowed.

This was bad. Her reflexes were far better than his. He didn’t know her ID number or her name, so he couldn’t even trigger her targets, assuming that would even count to get her eliminated. That was the whole reason that he hadn’t done so already.

“Izumura, right?” she asked, clutching the orange ball tightly. Her nails were long, he noticed, and filed into points. “From class 1-A?”

“What’s it to you?” he dared to reply. “Come to take out out a UA student?”

“Well, partially,” she admitted. “In fights where a lot of one on one is expected, you should always go after the people you have the most intel on. I knew you UA students would be ganged up on, so I tracked you down. I couldn’t waste a chance of interacting with the most prestigious school!”

With that, she hurled not a ball, but a rock straight towards him. He stepped to the side to avoid it, then jumped out of the way to hide behind a wall. Then, once he was ready, Izuku spun around, orange ball ready to throw. 

She was gone.

A warning alert gave him only a moment’s notice before his face hit the dirt. She was on top of him, digging her knees into his thighs and her hands into his upper arms. That had to be her quirk. 

“No, it’s not my quirk,” she whispered into his ear. “I was just hiding.”

“Isn’t your power at work?” he forced out, despite not quite getting enough air in his lungs. 

“No.” She leaned closer. “That’s just a technique. I make my opponent’s eyes and ears blind to my presence. To do that, I just hold my breath, clear my mind, and disappear. It’s simple. The hardest part is not thinking, to be honest.”

The truth was, Izuku had learned a similar technique from Stain, but had never been able to master it. “You learn stuff like that at Shiketsu?” 

“The trick is to not view your training as some kind of chore.”

He did no such thing.

She laughed. “I’m glad we’re learning about each other. Now my question.” She leaned in even closer, pressing her body tight against his back. “Why exactly do you want to be a hero? For honor, pride, or is it someone else’s sake?”

In his desperation, he used his quirk, and shorted out her targets. The shock hit him, too, but far less than the voltage she got. These things were surprisingly powerful, and during the moment of peace, he got to his feet and ran. He even ended up stumbling into Uraraka after a moment, and he seized her arm and continued running. There were footsteps close by. For at least a moment, they had to hide to avoid Shiketsu and Ketsubusu. 

“Thanks,” Uraraka said when he found a small area to hide. “Sorry, I didn’t help much back there, huh?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, scouring the area. Should he send out his robots to scout the area, even though he knew that there were enemies in all directions? Maybe. That may just be a waste of the support item, since he’d only just gotten it repaired. It seemed to be undamaged from his earlier fall, as far as he was able to tell, and he was only a little banged up himself. Maybe this was a good time to check everything out before he got into another fight.

His console was up, and in the reflection he just barely noticed Uraraka inching closer with an orange ball in her hand.

Without taking the time to think, Izuku spun around, and whacked the ball out of her hand. “You’re not Uraraka,” he realized. “She wouldn’t sacrifice a classmate to pass. Who are you? Are you from Shiketsu?”

“You’re just that smart of a guy,” she said. Her smile showed far too much teeth. “So,” As she stood, the Uraraka disguise seemed to turn to sludge and melted off of her body, revealing the Shiketsu girl from minutes ago. “Tell me more about yourself. I want to know everything about you.”

Couldn’t this wait until after the exam?

She lunged. Not fast enough to avoid it entirely, her hand made it past his guard and scratched his cheek. He ducked, his hand moving to cover it. She actually cut him. What was wrong with her? This was an exam!

A large white piece of what looked like fabric whizzed between them and sent the girl jumping back, thankfully halting her next attack. Was that…tape?

Snapping his head to the side, Izuku realized that it was Sero. One of his classmates, who came to stick up for him. Thank god. Some of them had listened.

“Yo, Shigaraki!” he called out, like a savior. “Having a hard time?” Out from behind him burst Uraraka, who attempted to tackle Izuku’s opponent. The girl dodged, and leapt away.

Now on top of one of the larger rocks, the girl crouched down, pouting her lip like a child. “Oh. I thought we’d get to learn more about each other.” Then, she rolled off of the jutting concrete pillar, and vanished.

Izuku gave a brief rundown to Sero and the couple others who had come to his rescue, only to be violently lectured about being alone with a naked girl. He said a lot of things that he didn’t really remember trying to defend himself, such as “what am I supposed to do about it” and a few other variations that only seemed to dig him a deeper hole.

Only, as they were distracted, the other students from a few other schools found them. They were surrounded. 

Izuku had faith in many things, but his accuracy throwing a ball was not one of them. He may be significantly more fit now than he was a year ago, but his athletic ability was not high in the dexterity area.

“Oh, screw it,” he muttered, and turned to the little device on his arm. The list of targets pulled up automatically, waiting for him.

The leading student’s targets lit up red. Next to follow was the examinee to his right, and then those behind her. Even though the students kept attacking for a little while, the proctor called out that they were eliminated and to please exit the arena. A few of the students bumped shoulders pretty roughly with him on their way out.

His cheat had counted. He had passed. 

Technically, his work here was done. But why not sow a little more chaos?

He clicked a couple of buttons. In seconds, there were cries of anguish and despair ringing across the arena. He had gone for everyone’s targets except his school, since all of them were on the same system. Every person was now down two targets, leaving them as easy pickings for everyone else. All the UA students proceeded to pass without issue, even though some of the less happier students cried that he had cheated. The proctor let it slide, however, and Izuku couldn’t have been more pleased.

The second part of the exam could be described as proper hero training. Izuku got to take a backseat, using the little robots that the support course had repaired to get inside small spaces and look for the ‘civilians’ of the exercise.

Being locked into the tech for the exercise, Izuku knew exactly when the villains would show up, and he warned everyone accordingly. The frontline fighters were adequately prepared, where the rescue heroes were able to stay back and continue the evacuation.

Izuku didn’t really count in either category. When the frontliners were struggling, he managed to jam the lazer guns that the villains were using (seriously, what were they thinking using those when he was around). When the rescue heroes needed assistance, he’d spread out his mind, use his cameras, and search. The drones that the proctors were using were subsequently hacked, and also used. When there was a piece of machinery that he couldn’t move to get to a civilian, he directed someone like Uraraka or Shoji to grab it instead. 

Hopefully, his leadership would net him points.

By the time it was over, Izuku felt pretty good about the test. He didn’t interact with the civilians too much, but those he did were mostly easy to deal with. 

In the end, he passed. By more than he expected, actually. And, even better, Bakugo didn’t. That was sure to be a slap to his ego.

The students who passed lined up, and in alphabetical order received their hero ID cards. He even had his false face and name on his, which felt a little strange, but when he reached Aizawa he was slipped a second card with his actual information and photo.

He didn’t even remember taking either picture, which was a little concerning.

The bus ride back to UA was blissfully quiet. Most of the students fell asleep, or quietly scrolled on their phones. Those that were still energetic enough to chat did so in voices barely louder than a whisper, almost unheard over the roar of the bus.

Seriously, UA was the best hero school in the world. The least they could do was afford some less shoddy transport.

Aizawa didn’t even officially dismiss them before he stalked off toward the main building. At first a couple students followed, a little lost, but he then turned around and made a shooing motion toward the front gate. Bakugo stomped off, muttering something under his breath, and the others all split at the gate. Uraraka offered to walk with him to the subway, but he waved her off and insisted that he lived close by, which he did. She then gave him her phone number, and he left with a promise to text her later.

That happened not a moment too soon. 

The quirk affecting his appearance was wearing off. It was hard to make out earlier, but the brown hair in front of his face was slowly turning green from the tips, and the intentionally oversized clothes to fit his fake frame were now a little baggy. Extra fabric gathered at his ankles and even more covered his hands. Some of the green lines from his quirk were also visible when he checked his reflection in his phone. Now it just looked like he did a really bad job at covering it with makeup.

The average person on the street probably wouldn’t pay much attention to him, so he didn’t bother trying to hide anything on the way back home. There were weirder quirks that he’d seen, so some mismatched hair coloring and a bad makeup job wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. If anything, based on his age they’d likely assume that he was trying something stupid, if they even thought about him at all.

This street was mostly void of people, so Izuku felt safe enough to pull out his phone and put in his earbuds, which had survived the day’s events. He had several playlists that he decided to mindlessly scroll through. One of them was Tomura’s, another was one that they made together (not without much arguing), and a couple filled with random artists that he stumbled upon online. His ‘normal’ playlist, though, was mostly less catchy songs so that he wouldn’t get distracted while he was out.

Of course, it was while the music decided to blare loudly in his ears (he’d forgotten to turn down the volume) when something slammed right into his side. Heavy claws ripped into his uniform, and his back hit the asphalt. 

It wasn’t more than two hours after receiving his provisional license, and he was about to lose it.

Somewhere on the other side of the street, a person screamed.

Izuku didn’t see what it was, but he fought. Somewhere in the chaos he’d dropped his phone, and he didn’t have his gear that was usually in his hero costume or his Deku uniform. He kicked and shoved, and with a grunt managed to get the thing off of him long enough to get a good look at it.

A nomu.

It was smaller than normal, but still had the standard dark skin and bulging eyes. This one didn’t have its brain exposed, but there was no denying what it was.

Rogue nomu weren’t just a thing that happened. He didn’t need to fight for his life on a whim. They were mindless, but controlled. One wouldn’t have appeared on a random street corner a few kilometers from UA unless it had been sent to attack someone. And in this case, him.

The nomu snapped its teeth at him. Its claws had already torn clean through the uniform, and he could feel blood trickling down his chest from the punctures. 

How the hell could he get out of this alive?

“I AM HERE!” someone cried, and a blue and yellow blur sent the nomu flying off of him.

His mind simultaneously thanked god and scorned him for hating his life.

Izuku got up from the ground, his entire body shaking with the force of his exhale, and surveyed his surroundings. He was alone, aside from the nomu and the hero, so the civilians must have run off. The nomu was down, being pummelled into submission every time it raised a limb. It snarled at All Might, who had taken his eyes off Izuku and was distracted.

He took a deep breath. Fuck, that hurt. 

His legs were, thankfully, functional, and the injuries were merely flesh wounds. Izuku pressed a hand to his bleeding chest, and took off running away from the fight. All he needed to do was get out of range, or at least out of sight. All Might knew both of his faces. Merging them now would be terrible, and the number one hero was far from stupid. He’d be in the nearest police station before he’d be able to blink. It was unlikely Tsukauchi would take his side over All Might’s.

That left one option. Run. 

Dragging his feet, Izuku walked off at his fastest injured pace. His body felt significantly less broken than the last incident, but it still was at its limit without so much adrenaline pumping through his veins. This wouldn’t work. He needed to take a moment, and thankfully there was a very convenient building that would block All Might’s view of him when he inevitably turned around. 

Izuku hid, breathing heavily. Though he kept an eye in the direction of where the nomu’s body was, it didn’t get up again. The hero stood in front of it, partially obscuring his view. He was looking for Izuku, but the nomu was taking up most of his focus. It was, after all, a multiquirked monster. Not just anybody could contain it.

Izuku backed off. Then, when he was sure that he was out of earshot, allowed himself to unclench his teeth, and breathe out unsteadily. Had the nomu dug any deeper, he’d probably be dead now. They hurt, but nothing like the burns from Endeavor had. He would be okay to head home and patch up everything else.

Did the League really have no further use for him? Did they think that it would be better off getting rid of him while he was away from the protection of heroes?

His phone rang, startling him more than he’d like to admit. Izuku nearly didn’t pick it up, but once he saw the caller ID, that explosive anger returned. He was pissed enough that he might’ve attempted to backhand the whole League of Villains in a single sweep, All For One included. Even Kurogiri who, as far as he was aware, was the most rational person among them.

The call went through. There was silence, for a moment. Izuku took a deep breath.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he screamed into the phone. “What the actual–”

“Send your coordinates to Kurogiri.”

“You nearly killed me–”

“It’s time we talk.”

“Yes, it is! You haven’t been paying me jack shit, and I’ve still been doing whatever work Kurogiri sends me!”

“Get your ass over here, NPC, and we’ll talk.”

“Fine!” he hissed into the phone. “I’ll give you my damn coordinates. But I’m not happy, so don’t expect me to play nice.” And he hit the “send location” button on his phone.

Within less than a second, there was a swirling warp gate that opened up right in front of his face. Izuku took a careful moment to school his face into something that didn’t show the pain he was currently feeling.

Deku stepped through.

Notes:

This chapter was not beta read/edited in any way. If you see something I missed, please point it out (I love y'all)

Chapter 28: Cutting Out the Root (of the problem)

Notes:

Boom. League of Villains.

The League of No Dads tm

Izuku exited the warp gate and was greeted by a crowd of people that he did not recognize, all standing around in Kurogiri’s bar. Kurogiri himself was standing behind it polishing a champagne flute, and there were some baskets piled in the sink that looked to be the remains of something drenched in cheese sauce. Despite the lack of a face, there was almost a tangible air of ‘done with this’ attitude that wafted over the counter.

There were four new people. One, with a mutant type quirk that made him look like a lizard, seemed to be wearing the same garb as the Hero Killer. Next to him was a severely scarred man with dark hair and bright blue, almost icy eyes that he recognized from old police reports. Dabi was what he went by. They hadn’t officially met, but he was a follower of Stain, though some of his movements were far less thought out and a lot more wild. The other two lingered somewhere in the background; a short blonde girl and a slightly taller blonde guy with a scar running down his forehead.

He had the sudden, self conscious urge to straighten his tie, despite the fact that it would do nothing to hide the punctures in his blood-covered chest. It probably looked worse than it was. He hoped.

“Who’s this kid?” Dabi grunted. 

“Deku,” he replied smoothly. More than enough interactions with people like Dabi had led him to be not quite comfortable, but less scared. He slipped back into the confident role like it had been yesterday that he left it. “I’m the hacker and the brains of this group. I trust you’ve heard of me?” 

Cold eyes closed in on him, though the words out of his mouth seemed to be directed at Tomura. “I thought you said the traitor was supposed to stay with the group.”

Traitor? Izuku glanced at Tomura, furrowing his brows. As far as he was aware, he was the only mole in UA. And even then, ‘mole’ was pretty loose, mainly because it didn’t fit his style, and he didn’t tell them everything unless they paid. They must have someone else in UA. Someone else in his class, who probably had a quirk they were gifted, like him, for there was no other reason any prospective hero student would throw away their career for this. If they had someone continually attacking them specifically, they couldn’t, or shouldn’t have been in 1-B.

He’d made files for every single one of the students in 1-A, and even most of 1-B and the hero-hopefuls in gen ed. The immediate options, the ones with very powerful abilities or relatives that could explain their quirks were ruled out. There were a few outliers, a few that had quirks not really similar to their parents, but only one was in his homeroom. If he could spend his time digging into the little online presence his classmate had, surely he’d find some sort of communication with All For One.

“Not him.” Tomura was sitting at the bar, looking very pleased with himself. “There’s a second among them. He’s just the easy option.”

Izuku chose to mostly ignore the insult, and decided to relay the information later to the heroes. That statement was just confirmation that it was who he thought it might be. “I don’t like the insulation that I’m ‘easy’. Tomura, you better have a good reason to nearly break my cover and almost get me killed.”

“We didn’t ‘break your cover’,” Tomura answered. “You did.”

“That was a calculated decision,” Izuku replied, which was a total lie. “Only a few people are aware. They were informed to make them underestimate my skills and sow doubt about our partnership. I think you’d understand more if you weren’t so simple minded.”

“Why, you—”

“Boys,” Kurogiri spoke up. All sets of eyes turned on the bartender, who had not set down the glass he was still polishing. “No fighting in the bar.”

Izuku nodded in apology. “Apologies, Kurogiri. I don’t mind taking this outside, Tomura, if you’re still confident that I can’t hold my own.”

Hackles raised, Tomura was probably about to throw a few not very thought out insults his way when Dabi interrupted them.

“So, is someone going to introduce us all, or are we just going to sit here and watch you argue?”

“Watch your tone,” Tomura snarled at Dabi.

“You’re right,” Izuku said, “but unfortunately for you all, Tomura just decided that it was a brilliant idea to kill me in the street with one of his nomu. This is a lesson you should learn. Heroes are valuable assets when they do not realize you’re a villain. Thankfully,” he gestured at his now-ruined uniform, “I get by as a student. You want to join the League? Figure out your backup plans.” He shot a dirty look at Tomura. “Now, for formal introductions, I am Izumura Shigaraki, otherwise known as Deku. I know who you are, Dabi, but I do not know the rest of you.”

“How do you know who I am?” 

“You follow the Hero Killer, as do you, I presume,” he gestured to the mutant type, “and I’ve seen you around. I worked with Stain for a while, and he has trained me. We parted ways after he threatened a student, and here we are.”

“I saw that on the news,” the mutant type grunted. “You saved a hero and the student. A hero and a student that were meant to be culled.”

Oh yeah. He had forgotten that made the news. “Culling a student before he’s matured just results in bad practices,” Izuku argued. “He has not had time to grow and make the change into a good hero.”

“True, but the hero you also saved had already been chosen by him. He deserved to die there.”

Izuku honestly had next to no clue what Native had done to earn the Hero Killer’s ire, but he had assumed that he just was a low level, less powerful hero, which Stain despised. “I don’t kill for my goals. I give information. What others do with that information is beyond me, but I would prefer not to see it if I can. I wouldn’t stand to see the student die, and if I stepped in, Native needed to survive as well.”

The man didn’t seem to have a reply to that, so Izuku turned on Dabi. “You, I’m well aware, despise heroes in general. But I’ve seen you around, and I know there was blue fire on that night in Hosu, so I think there’s someone else you’re hunting. Am I right?”

Nothing. He pressed on.

“Stain dislikes all heroes apart from All Might. Those are his goals. In the League, we dislike all heroes, especially All Might. If you weren’t prepared for that, you wouldn’t have sought us out. So it’s not All Might that you don’t care for, but they’re a top hero, aren’t they?”

Dabi didn’t really react too much, but his fingers twitched. Now wasn’t the best time to be on the other end of a ball of fire, so Izuku just smiled.

“My reputation proceeds me, I hope. I am the analyst here. I help with quirks, I find their weaknesses, their drawbacks, and I can tell you how to counter them. Every quirk has a limit, and I can find those. But I see much more than that, too.” He gestured again to Tomura. “This is who’s leading you. This is the man who wants me killed. Because I don’t dislike heroes. I will work for anyone and everyone, regardless of who they are; and trust me, I know. I’ve sold to heroes and villains alike across the planet, and I have yet to be caught. And this idiot is the one who has on multiple occasions gotten me almost killed or caught. So, with that, I tell you: Walk out while you can.”

The bar fell silent. Tomura was silently fuming.

“Izumura Shigaraki,” a familiar voice said. Following the slight trail of static, Izuku turned to see the large TV in the bar that was usually turned to the news channel. All For One was here, listening in while Tomura was recruiting. That was rare, and these people now in the bar didn’t warrant his interest. What did he want?

“Yes?” he replied, a hard edge to his voice. “What can I do for you, Sensei?”

There was a pause. “Very well. I do believe that you have breached some of the terms outlined in our contract.”

Izuku took a deep breath, and ignored the rest of the bar. “The terms of my initial contract with the League were information gathering and quirk analysis. This was not an exclusive contract, and never has been. I do not give information on the League,” but he did give information on All For One and his assets (thank you, loopholes), “and I do not understand your issue with my having other clients.”

“Yes, those were the terms of the contract. However, there are certain bounds of secrecy when dealing with other clients that has been breached.”

“Who my clients are is none of your business—”

“You aren’t listening to us!” Tomura hissed, scratching at his neck enough that it started to bleed. “You–”

“I think its you that is not listening to me, Tomura. I do my work. I get it in when you need it. I’ve even been a part of your in person raids and done things without pay that are not within the bounds of our deal. As far as I’m aware, I am upholding my end of the bargain.”

“You work for heroes!” Tomura said. “You little-”

“Who my clients are,” Izuku said again, “is none of your business.”

“It’s my business if you sell our information to the heroes, you NPC!”

“Oh, an NPC? That’s a new low, even for you. Come up with better insults maybe.”

“Stop squabbling like children,” Kurogiri reminded, and was very forcefully ignored.

“Why, you—”

“If you had proof that I’ve broken anything, I would love to see it.”

“We know what you’ve been doing! And if you want to make it up to us, then the least you could do is participate in Sensei’s experiments. Maybe then you’d finally be of some use!”

That threat didn’t seem empty.

Izuku’s blood ran cold. He may not know the details, but he knew enough. ‘Experiments’ meant nomu. That was what they wanted with him now that he’d gone rogue and stopped playing into their every whim. If All Might had not been there, that might’ve been his fate. 

“Let us not be hasty,” the TV said, but Izuku noticed that it did nothing to refute Tomura’s statement. “You will cease this petty squabble.”

Tomura opened his mouth, probably to argue, and then thought better of it. He gave an annoyed huff, and turned away, still scratching at his neck. His nails were stained in red.

“I have a feeling,” Izuku stated, heart hammering, “that your and my definition of ‘hasty’ is very different, Sensei.”

There was silence. The newcomers in the bar seemed torn between curiosity and general uneasiness, watching the showdown intently. By now they knew Tomura’s quirk, but they couldn’t know his. And with how unconcerned he felt over the blood still dripping down his chest, he hoped they thought it was a good one.

The voice from the TV spoke again. “Tomura has forged a temporary alliance elsewhere. Given our current relationship, you will be going with them.” The TV flickered in static for a moment, and the lights dimmed.

“I will not be doing that,” Izuku stated, holding his ground. “I could just walk out right this minute and hand everything I’ve learned over to the police. Both of your operations will be shut down within the week. I hear your definition of hasty, and I will counter with my own. How sure are you that I don’t have safeguards in place to make sure those who wronged me don’t get out of it unscathed?” He turned to the newcomers. “This is who you are joining. This is who you are working for. And if I hadn’t sold my soul, I would have been gone long ago.”

There was more silence for another moment. The voice chucked. It built up into a full on laugh, which raised the hair on the back of Izuku’s neck. “Now, dear child, we both know a bluff when we see it. You ran from All Might, even after he saved you. How certain are you that your current value to us is worth more than what you’ve already given?”

He remained silent and still, with a hand pressed against where blood still steadily seeped through the UA uniform. Since there was still adrenaline pumping through his body, it didn’t hurt as much as it probably should have.

“You will go to the Shie Hassakai. You will do the work they give you in good faith. And you will not do anything rash, or I’m certain that you know what will happen.”

Izuku bit his tongue. He did.

He truly did.

Notes:

Y'all. I bring good news.

WE ARE NEARING THE END

There are only a few more chapters, including an epilogue. The next two are only missing a couple hundred words each, and the rest are all complete! I'll get an ending out before I'm 30 after all!

In all seriousness, thank you all for sticking with me so long. I know my update schedule has not been the best, and sometimes that leaves months at a time where I'm not writing anything for this fic. Thank you so so much for commenting, giving kudos, and everything you've been doing. That motivation has sometimes been the only thing keeping this fic going :)

Chapter 29: Overhead

Notes:

So. This entire fic is finished. Like, completely done. All written. I thought I'd never see the day. I'll be uploading the last few chapters soon!

As always, this hasn't been beta read.

Enjoy :)

In the end, Izuku didn’t have a choice. All For One had too much on him, and though his control over the gifted quirk had been waning, Izuku was not about to take any chances when it wasn’t just his neck on the line.

Kurogiri dropped him off right where he’d been picked up, which was crawling with police and other heroes who had cordoned off the area. With the holes in his jacket and the blood only now starting to clot, he was quite a sight. He still managed to slip away by sending the heroes to the other side of the police barricades, and slipping by the couple that remained.

He then phoned Nezu, told him he’d been attacked, and agreed to meet Recovery Girl at his apartment. Having a healer on staff sure was handy. The wound might have been life threatening otherwise, with how long he had left it alone. 

There was, however, a good scolding waiting for him when he got home. He would never forget how guilty Recovery Girl could make him feel. He accepted it as best he could, took the nutrient gummies she offered, and went straight to bed under her orders. By the next week, he was fully healed, and the teachers were all heavily focused on the upcoming work studies. 

Apparently, despite what he’d seen, work studies were mostly for the second and third years, after they’d gotten more training. Thanks to this year’s villain attacks, they were also given the opportunity to learn how to defend themselves and protect others faster.

While most of his classmates picked from various agencies that they hadn’t gone to for their internships, just like before, Izuku took advantage of Nezu’s offer. Eraserhead still pushed for him to head to an underground agency instead, and he still did have that offer from the Nighteye agency several months back, but he declined. Staying local would broaden his movements, and he wouldn’t have to come up with excuses for half of his usual activity.

The lessons with Nezu were more of the paperwork side of heroics. Writing mission reports, dispatching heroes, and planning of various operations. As the smartest creature in Japan, Nezu was given quite a lot of these to work on. Many, to the dismay of the hero commission, he refused. They never did stop trying, though.

Izuku was also given some of these tasks. Though he almost thought about letting a program do the work, it wouldn’t take into account some of the more delicate human side of things. So, reluctantly, he sat down and moved through the heroes available and planned out squadrons, which were then handed to Nezu for approval. The work was more enjoyable than expected, and he ended the first day of his work study quite pleased with himself.

He then informed Nezu that the rest of his work would need to be completed virtually. Nezu, who seemed to be expecting this, agreed. He did wish Izuku luck with infiltration, which wasn’t something he’d ever informed the principal about.

In the same day, Izuku met up with two people in a desolate part of town that he had not yet met, both of whom were recent recruits for the League. They’d seen each other in the bar, though not spoken, back when he was yelling at Tomura and All For One. One introduced himself as Twice, a man Izuku instantly pinned as someone with a split personality, and the other was a girl probably around his age who was far too energetic for her own good. He deduced her as more of a victim to her quirk, once she explained that she needed blood for her quirk to function.

There was the strangest sense that he had met her before, beyond them locking eyes a few days ago. But surely he would have recognized that kind of crazy.

The name she gave him was Toga. Himiko Toga. Just a name was more than enough to find out what kind of background she had. She was young, though, and people this age didn’t turn to villainy without outside factors, so her parents were probably not around anymore. If they were, they were probably deadbeats.

He hadn’t yet gotten an actual name for Twice, but with enough looking he’d be able to find something. The base description of his quirk, along with the villain name, theoretically could work. This kind of ability was far from common. Unless he wasn’t registered, which was unlikely given his age, there would be at least something on him in the government database. He had a penchant for smoking, and kept more than a couple cigars and a few packs of cigarettes in the rainbow-colored fanny pack at his hip.

Together, they waited for the Yakuza to come and collect them, as this meeting point was arranged for secrecy and to avoid any leaks of illegal activity. Once again, it was a warehouse. Not even an abandoned one either, as there were boxes and crates stacked up miraculously free of dust.

Eventually, one of the Yakuza lackeys arrived. He wore a beak-shaped mask that was probably for aesthetic over practical usage. The three of them were directed to an unmarked car waiting outside, and from there into an even-cleaner warehouse that had a secret entrance into some underground tunnels that Izuku didn’t even know existed. The guy explained that they were  able to carry out many of their operations for that exact reason. Heroes, underground heroes in particular, often used these tunnels as well, and there was a very hesitant informal truce in the area.

The many layers of concrete were enough to confuse his GPS, but not enough to completely block the signal, which he got back anyway once they returned to the surface. If this was meant to confuse them, it didn’t work for him.

Izuku was formally introduced to Kai Chisaki, leader of the Shie Hassaikai. A germaphobe, kind of a weirdo, and probably an exotic bird killer if the purple feathers on his jacket were any sign. He and every single one of his close lackeys wore what were essentially plague doctor masks, and seemed to be way too concerned with how dirty everyone was.

This first meeting was about what he had expected—an interrogation—but what Izuku didn’t expect was not being able to lie his way out of the situation. One of Chisaki’s underlings, who stood in on their meeting, was a man calling himself Nemoto, and was a highly regarded member of the Yakuza’s “Eight Bullets”. His quirk gave him the ability to force others to answer him with only the truth.

Chisaki explained this all readily, and without care.

Izuku, on the other hand, was sweating. Most of the League didn’t know he’d been quirkless. How would they treat him if they found out?

“Is that really necessary?” he argued, but they ignored him.

“What is your quirk?” Nemoto asked them each in turn. This it seemed, was one thing they would not compromise on. None of them were able to stop themselves from speaking.

Twice and Toga both gave more detail than he was expecting, and more detail than they willingly gave him. It could have been apprehension, since he dealt in information, but even what they handed over was more than enough to analyze. This was coercion, making them spill in excruciating detail whatever he wanted to know.

Izuku was dying to figure out how that worked.

When it came time for him to speak, Izuku found himself saying, “It’s not mine,” barely fighting the affects, “but I can access any device connected to the internet for information that I can compile into readable data.”

They paused. Overhaul nodded to his lackey, who then pressed on. “Elaborate.”

“My quirk was given to me,” he replied. Well, it still wasn’t information he wanted getting out, but it was far from the worst thing he could have said. “It was not originally mine.”

“What is your original quirk?”

“I don’t have one.”

The spell was broken. Toga and Twice looked at him, more than a little surprised, but the Yakuza were muttering amongst themselves, and throwing suspicious glances at him. Apparently, even a quirk that could make people tell the truth was not enough to convince them. Quirkless people rarely got far in life.

Chisaki narrowed his eyes, studying him for a moment. Nemoto didn’t wait for another command. The waves of his quirk washed over them all again. “What is your natural quirk?”

“I do not have one,” Izuku repeated. “I was born quirkless.”

“Did Shigaraki tell you to betray us?”

“No,” was the universal answer, as they had intent, but not plans. They would simply take the best opportunity, and Shigaraki had not informed them otherwise.

They were released from the compulsion. Izuku looked to the side, and crossed his arms. That was the worst hurdle, technically. It wasn’t as if all of his secrets were out in the open, but this was knowledge he didn’t want spreading in the underground.

Apparently satisfied with their answers, Chisaki settled back in his chair. “Very well then. We will welcome you all into our ranks as a show of goodwill.” The worst seemed to be over, until Overhaul called out his name. “Deku.”

Izuku lifted his head to show that he was listening, but didn’t look over. That weird mind control was violating.

“I’ve been informed that your analysis is the best in the underground. I require your services on something more than just a quirk.”

What could Overhaul have that he needed Deku’s input on? The leader of the Yakuza was proud. He didn’t take suggestions from others. Izuku had learned this much through study and research and countless hours of footage to remember his temperament. 

“Sure,” Izuku voiced, already curious. “I’ll take a look at it.”

Later that day, though it really could have been considered the next since it was past midnight, after all three of them had settled into their given rooms, another member, Chronos came to fetch Izuku. They brought him down to the basement, and then a floor below that, and then another before that. After each floor, they had to go through a round of security checks that seemed pointless since they were all practically identical. Outside another particularly intimidating door was Overhaul, clearly waiting for them. Something in his eyes glimmered once Izuku arrived.

“You’re late,” he barked. “But I’ll forgive it this time.”

They were, in fact, on time, but Izuku ignored that as Chisaki pressed a key card against the door, and it clicked open. He followed them closely behind.

In the room, strapped to a metal chair, was a little girl. She looked scarcely older than five, wearing rags that could be described as clean but not well kept, and her hair seemed matted and clumped. Her wide, red eyes stared at them closely.

“Now, Eri,” Overhaul said. He had lost all interest in Izuku, his focus now squarely on the girl. “We have a guest here today. You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”

The girl said nothing, but she gave a brief nod that could have easily been mistaken for a twitch.

“Deku,” Izuku raised his head, “this is what I require your assistance with. I will familiarize you with the details of my quirk later. For now, I wish to know if there is a more efficient way at gathering samples.”

Izuku glanced at Eri, and back at Overhaul. “Samples for what?”

“There is a special kind of weapon that we are creating. A quirk-erasing drug, that prevents the user from using their quirk in any way. It is developed from Eri here,” he placed his hand on her arm, and she shivered. “Her curse is to rewind. By synthesizing her cells, we can create the drug and the antidote, and fully control the market when the heroes lose their quirks in battle.”

“What is your–” Izuku began, but he didn’t finish before Chisaki removed his glove.

To say that it was gory would be an understatement. The whole experience had lasted no more than a few seconds, maybe half a minute at most, but there was no longer a little girl in a chair. Instead, her organs and body parts seemed strewn about, blood so fine it could have been a cloud in the air, and then several glass vials on a small tray were filled with red liquid and a single piece of flesh rested on a slide.

“Well,” said Overhaul once Eri had been pieced back together, “what are your thoughts?”

Truthfully, he had none. All he could think about was how to get the sobbing girl away from someone who was basically her father. The police couldn’t condone this, and basically getting her into the hands of just about any pro hero would ensure her temporary safety while others managed to arrest this lunatic.

“I’ll need to look at the refining process to be certain,” he found himself saying. “Unless it’s just her blood in the bullets?”

Chisaki smiled, his eyes crinkling in a way Izuku wouldn’t have expected from a psychopath. A single drop of blood had landed on the fabric of his mask. “I will give you everything you need, Deku, and we shall rid this world of the filth we call quirks.”

Izuku did not quite understand why he found himself agreeing.

Notes:

Guys. Guys. Look at the chapter name. He’s dealing with Overhaul. And going over his head. Overhead. I am a comedic genius.

Chapter 30: Because I Am Here

Deku was gifted the highest security clearance, probably because Overhaul had taken a liking to him and they knew he’d be able to get into everything anyway. For once in his life, the fact that he was born quirkless worked well for him. Who would’ve thought.

The Yakuza didn’t have too much of a job for him. Occasionally, a few people would approach him for analysis on their quirks, and he’d give them a base price in exchange. Discounted, as they later found out, since they were providing him with a place to stay and food to eat. It wasn’t even with the heroes, and here he was liked enough to roam freely. That was more than he got with the League or UA.

Even though his being there was mostly for ‘good will’ between the Hassaikai and the League, he was not treated as an outsider or an enemy. Many people working under Kai Chisaki had at least heard of him, and were far from fearful. Though many sets of eyes followed him where he walked, it wasn’t out of wariness, but instead heavy respect. A few members even spoke to him about how he’d helped them or their families.

He roamed around the base almost freely, doing what little was asked of him and exploring during the time he wasn’t busy. Nobody stopped him from going anywhere except the kitchen staff, which was reasonable. The head chef was mean, so he avoided the area altogether. Most people who’d been there a while had the same opinion.

Nobody even bothered him while he worked, answering requests, doing Nezu’s tasks since he didn’t have proper reason to leave the base. Since he had clearance, some avoided him out of the fear and apprehension that he was used to. Even more left him alone out of respect.

Instead of the proper analysis he originally agreed to regarding Eri, he instead talked to Chisaki about synthesizing the blood they already collected into a proper compound that could be replicated. That way, Chisaki didn’t have to dirty his hands. He wasn’t listened to, so Izuku relented and instead said that if Eri could be trained to use her quirk instead on the compounds they used, it may have the same effect.

He was not called on again to observe Eri’s…procedure—he didn’t know what else to call it outside of torture—but he did meet with her several times to get to know her and her quirk a little better. She was quite apprehensive at first. Eventually, though, she warmed up to him constantly talking about the outside world, or blabbering about heroes, or talking about his mom.

“Heroes aren’t perfect,” he once told her, while she was reading a book he had bought about All Might. “They might fail. They might not save everybody. They might lose a lot of people before bringing down any villains. But they’ll try, and they’ll push through pain and suffering and hardship to fight. And, one day, they’ll come for you.”

“Will they come for you too?” she asked, and he didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Yeah,” he reassured her, patting the top of her head. “They’ll come for me too.”

When Izuku felt sufficiently informed, he contacted the heroes with a simple message. Did he have photos, and evidence? Yes, he did. But those weren’t passed on until a few days later, when he realized that they were not taking him seriously and needed a little bit of incentive. He might have namedropped the League, and also sent images of Toga and Twice interacting with known members of the Yakuza.

Finally, he got news of a raid. The heroes would be moving in by the end of the week. If he got more concrete dates, he’d be able to do something. Thankfully, the Nighteye agency, who was in charge of the whole thing, had shockingly weak security and Nighteye also had a penchant for organization, so all of the files were dated. The raid was scheduled two days out. 

The morning of, he managed to find a link into their comm systems. They weren’t using the usual frequency that most cities used, but a slightly different one that was a little more secure. Various teams were talking to each other and hiding in their respective places. There were even several hero students, his classmates, in the group, though they were with pro heroes and thus did not have the same earpieces as everyone else. Bringing children along was not the best idea given who they were up against. Today, he couldn’t even work interference.

The police marched themselves up to the gate with a warrant. 

Izuku held his breath. It was showtime.

It took two minutes for the Yakuza to get truly organized and raise a defensive force, during which time heroes had breached the walls and were running through the halls looking for their target, Eri. He had not told them where she was located for this exact reason.

Izuku, who was hidden already a floor down and a couple walls away from the nearest hero squadron, got up from the computer he’d hacked into, and picked up his helmet. This morning, he’d opted for his suit. It was well known, but easier to hide his identity than if he ran out with Eri in plainclothes. And this way, he could at least have his scanners working constantly to alert him if things weren’t going to plan.

The hall was clear. A few times as he wound through the maze of the compound he had to duck into a few rooms to hide from either heroes or Yakuza members. Once, he ran into Uraraka, who recognized him instantly. He simply stepped aside and let her pass. She hesitated, then ran after the heroes she was with.

In his ear, heroes were screaming through the comms about running into trouble, or calling off the search in certain areas. If he had the time to slow down, maybe he might’ve butted in, if only to get them to shut up. Kai Chisaki himself had appeared on the battlefield. There was not much his quirk couldn’t do, and Izuku had no way of doing what he wanted without this once in a lifetime distraction.

He reached the lower levels of the basement. Nobody was protecting Eri’s room. They didn’t need to, when only the highest in the chain of command had access to even get in. She could not get out on her own, and there was no need to waste capable personnel on a child. Especially not when there was an active threat that needed to be monitored.

The card reader on the side of her room door flashed green where he pressed his card. A lock clicked. The door swung open.

Eri’s room was depressingly drab, even if it did on some level resemble a child’s playroom. The walls were gray. A single shelf on the side had a couple books and a few toys that were more often than not carefully put away and untouched.

The child herself was sitting on the edge of her bed, clutching a small white tiger plush that Izuku had given her a week ago. She looked up, and immediately backed into the wall at the sight of him.

“It’s okay!” he said, and crouched down low. “You’re safe.”

The little girl shuddered away, still clutching the toy tight to her chest. She had never seen his suit design nor heard his voice warped by a voice changer designed to be intimidating. He didn’t have the time to take it off when he needed all systems working. Izuku grimaced, and inched forward, mentally conjuring an image of a yellow and blue idiot that haunted his dreams.

“You’re safe,” he repeated. “You want to know why?” And he held out a hand, his arm steady, to rest in the open air in front of her.

Eri hesitated. “Because you are here?” she replied shakily.

“Because I am here,” he agreed. “It’s Izuku. I’m here to get you out of here.”

That was all it took for Eri to allow him to pick her up. Despite wanting to find the urge to smile, Izuku could not. And she couldn’t see it behind his helmet, anyway. He just gathered her in his arms, and ran as far as he could.

Not a minute later, Chisaki’s underlings found the door open and the room empty.

 

---

 

From: Deku (REDACTED)

To: Sir Nighteye ([email protected]), Principal Nezu ([email protected])

 

Your raid this morning was successful. I have the girl. She has not been harmed. I don’t trust the commission with her, and will not be turning her over. 

From: Principal Nezu ([email protected])

To: Deku (REDACTED)

 

Then I cannot help you. I wish you luck, Deku.

 

---

 

After fleeing with Eri to a safehouse that Izuku had managed to coordinate with someone who owed him enough favors, the first thing he needed to do was get them both something to eat. At first, he’d asked Eri what food she liked. When she replied that she didn’t know, he suggested half a dozen food items that she’d either never heard of or never had, so he simply pulled up lists of what each items contained to let her pick what she wanted. When even that failed, he offered that he knew the best place to get katsudon and left her in a safehouse while he marched into the restaurant and ordered food for both of them. To that end, he left his helmet and most of his support gear with her, so it just looked like he was styled strangely.

He hung around the place for a while, just waiting, until he heard sirens coming down the street. Already on edge, Izuku slipped around to the back door. Then, once they burst into the building, he was gone, and ran from the scene. Heroes showed up within minutes.

Izuku never got the katsudon.

After that plan fell through, he found a thrown out, cheap hairbrush still in its packaging and set out detangling Eri’s hair to distract her from the inevitable hunger. This was clearly not something she had done before, and Izuku’s hair was short enough that he didn’t have to deal with it either. Credit was given where credit was due: Eri sat as still as she could even as Deku tugged at her hair, trying to salvage it. In the end, he ended up using the hottest water he could get in the shabby apartment and used it to help get most of the tangles out. Those that remained he’d have to settle with conditioner, which was a luxury he was not going to worry about at the moment with police cars still screaming down the street. 

“We need to move,” he told her. “I know a few places.”

 

—

 

His ‘few places’ were mostly on the abandoned side of various nearby towns. Every couple of days, he got them to another place, hopefully before police could widen their search radius or catch on to any places he did need to use his card at. By now, he’d realized it was being tracked. Unfortunately, it was all Izuku had, so he couldn’t throw it out.

 The car he’d used to get them this far had been ditched after probably a week, and he hopefully managed to scrub most of his fingerprints off the doors and interior. Surely someone would notice it before long, and the police would pick up on this area too, but they needed to keep moving so that the noose around their throats wouldn’t tighten more than it already had..

It was the shelters that really kept them both alive. They housed anyone, from the homeless to recent villain victims who could not for whatever reason return home. These places often had places to sleep or bins of items to take, except they were monitored and sometimes had heroes checking in. Even still, Izuku signed in under the name Atakani Mikomo and swiped a few small snacks that they could keep and eat while on the run.

His street clothes were nothing more than ratty things he managed to find in the trash, but they hid his suit decently well, even with the way they were torn. Most of the particularly identifying pieces were left with Eri, if he really did need to leave her. He got more than a few snide looks, a couple comments clearly directed at him about the homeless, but he managed to grab the bare minimum of what he needed for them both. There was even a halfway-clean dress for Eri that someone had donated. It was red, and had a few stains, but it matched her eyes and had a little yellow flower sewn on the front. There wasn’t even a tag, which told him that it was handmade. Those kinds of items always lasted longer.

The one time he left for more than a couple of hours to meet up with a client that said they would only pay in cash, he was ambushed. While it wasn’t entirely a setup, heroes who had been monitoring his apparently high-profile client decided to wait until they were together before attacking. 

He had given the client a flash drive full of information, and in return been handed a thick envelope of cash, an amount that could have sustained him and Eri for a while longer. If his sensors had been the slightest bit too slow, he would have not been able to avoid the bindings that sprung up from the floor. His client was not so lucky.

Izuku then had to battle his way through two pro heroes, one of which was definitely a heavy hitter. He ducked and dodged as much as he could, cracking his helmet in the process, but in the end he was forced to drop the money and run before they grabbed him too. He darted through the alleyways and a few roundabout ways before returning to the vacant house they’d temporarily set up in.

“We’ll be okay,” he said, when she fretted over the new injuries and the breaks in his suit. “I’m fine, see? Just a few scratches.”

Now, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, hungrily munching on a granola bar that he’d managed to steal from a convenience store. With his card information now being watched, he couldn’t afford to purchase food. Izuku didn’t carry cash—almost nobody did. It was lucky enough that his disguise was unnoticeable. He’d always been rather plain-looking, and the police hadn’t fully released his file. They had, however, mentioned the green lines that were ever present on his face, and even the grease and grime wasn’t enough to fully cover the unnatural glow of his skin.

People were indirectly looking for Eri, as well. They had released photos of her from hero body cam footage, and people knew to look for a small white-haired child with a singular horn. Izuku couldn’t take her out to the park to play with kids her own age or just enjoy the sunlight instead of being cooped up indoors. He couldn’t take her out to eat. He couldn’t go anywhere without someone noticing.

Eri claimed to be fine. Izuku knew she wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t fine. Not when they were forced to sleep outside or in structurally unsound buildings, in dirty places while they moved to his various safehouses around the area. Not when he was unsure when their next meal would be, and often forewent his to let her eat something. He’d come back to wherever he left her with a small meal, claiming he already ate, when he was still dizzy with hunger and just as tired.

This couldn’t go on. Especially as he sat with his back to a dirty, probably moldy wall on an equally if not more dirty floor lamenting their situation, this couldn’t go on. He might have deserved it, but he couldn’t do that to Eri. She was too young, and she’d gone through too much to die by the side of someone supposed to be protecting her.

One day while on an outing, he managed to charge his phone at a small power station, and signed back into his email.

 

From: Deku (REDACTED)

To: Principal Nezu ([email protected])

 

Promise me she won’t become a Paragon for the commission.

From: Principal Nezu ([email protected])

To: Deku (REDACTED)

 

You have my word.

 

That night, there was a disturbance outside of UA’s gates.

By the time the heroes got there, all they found was a little girl in a dirty red dress, crying. There was no sign of Deku, even as he watched from the trees. Eri was escorted inside the gates by Eraserhead and Midnight, and then she was gone.

He could at least muster the energy to be happy about it, even as a tear swiped down his dirty cheek. 

It was the only one he allowed to fall.

Notes:

Almost to the end y'all! I quite like this chapter a lot, and from here on out it's really only up :)

Chapter 31: Home

Summary:

Izuku finally comes home. This time, for realsies.

Izuku ditched his disguise approximately ten minutes after he entered the city. The green glow of his suit was unmistakable, but he couldn’t stand the ratty shirt and equally torn up pants. Though not clean, his suit was comfortable in a way that nothing else was, even as the almost-broken helmet on his head glitched and the AI inside didn’t answer half of his questions. He didn’t have the tools to break it open and fix it.

There was a constant battle with Nezu for control. Izuku was winning that fight, but barely. The principal might be the smartest in Japan, but he was nothing against someone with a quirk like Deku’s. His location was spoofed more often than not, and both UA teachers and this area’s normal pros ran themselves ragged and in circles searching for whispers of his presence. Nezu had passed on a lot of information, he knew, more than he should have. But not enough as he could have, and he wasn’t trying hard enough to find him. For all he’d done, some of his promises to Izuku were kept.

But now, Deku was slipping up. Every other step was a stumble, his eyelids were far from open, and he hadn’t really slept in several days. Alleyways barely hid him. No convenience store could feed him. The vigilante cafes were scoured by police and thus unapproachable, even if they couldn’t arrest him inside without making enemies of the local villain and criminal population. He was hungry, and tired, and more than annoyed at every small inconvenience, half of which was his own fault. 

He paid by card at a small cafe, just to get a takeout dinner that would tide him over another few days. There were heroes and police swarming the place no more than a few minutes later, and he had never before been more grateful for their extremely quick service and the fact that he knew these rooftops like the back of his hand. They were also no stranger to vigilantes, and gave him a bag of chips that he hadn’t asked for.

This couldn’t go on, he knew, sitting on the edge of the rooftop for a much needed break. His dinner was gone, and he was still hungry. Maybe he should have asked for a second set of noodles. But he got up anyway, popped the crick in his neck, and moved on. 

A cop spotted him moments later, and he took off running before backup could arrive. There was nowhere he could hide feasibly. Everyone was looking for him. His usual cameras were used against him. There was scarcely a blind spot in the whole city that they hadn’t already searched. 

Well. There was one place. It was a choice Izuku didn’t really want to consider, but he was out of options. He’d sooner get caught then show up there, a failure, a villain. He’d sooner die than lead the heroes and all his enemies straight there.

Deku did possibly everything he could to get caught on the way, but it seemed like the universe was not on his side. Instead of walking, he took the subway, dragging his feet to get there. There was not a single hero on the train. Not even the civilians gave him more than a second glance. They would not gain much by bothering the local vigilante, and especially not if the police were after them. Some people were just as well connected as villains. The fear of retribution was enough to keep most people from calling the pros, if gratitude alone wasn’t.

Then, at the station he stepped off at, even the security detail seemed to be nonexistent. There were no cops. No heroes. Nobody with even the slightest worry that a known vigilante/villain (after his latest stunt he wasn’t sure where he stood) was in the area. Nobody cared. A few people that recognized him stopped to stare, even took a few photos. But there was nobody called to get rid of him.

Twenty minutes later, he was entering a familiar apartment complex. He swept by the people at the front, who all pointed and stared and gasped in hushed whispers, and made his way up to the third floor following the path he took every day since he was a little boy. The stairs themselves were mostly empty, but he brushed by a young girl walking a little dog on one of the landings. She looked up at him in awe, but said nothing before scurrying down the stairs, her dog following behind.

Izuku reached the familiar red door with the peeling gold number on the front, and then faltered. Would his mother even recognize him? Would she accept him, still? Did she even know that he was still alive? He hadn’t spoken to her, nor even sent a message. What would she think when she found her dead son on her doorstep wearing a known villain’s uniform? Would she close the door and call the police? Or would she really believe that it was him?

He pulled his hand back from where he was about to knock and yanked the helmet off his head. His hair was messy, and dirty, and annoying him to no end, but his curls were long and green and wasn’t too much longer than it had been when he left. With any luck, his mom would be in disbelief long enough for him to explain. 

What could he even say to her? His mother was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he threw it away to go play villain. Did he want that? Did he want to face his mother, who had loved him with every bone in her body and every atom in her soul, and tell her that he gave up everything to be a villain? That he absolutely destroyed his own life in an attempt to keep her safe?

Maybe this was a bad idea. If the universe was willing, Izuku would have gotten arrested on his way over here. But here he was at the door, and it would be rude to leave now. 

Plus, he really just wanted to see his mom again.

Izuku raised his fist once again, and rapped twice on the door, his broken helmet tucked under his other arm. Well. There was no turning back now.

“Just a moment!” his mother called from inside. There was a clatter as something was set down on the table. Her voice was rough, like she’d just been crying. 

Izuku shifted. This was a very, very bad idea.

The door opened. 

However bad he felt, his mother certainly looked it. She was thin, her skin pale, and around her eyes was puffy and red. She held a handkerchief in the hand holding the edge of the door that was soaking wet.

“Hi, mom,” was all he could muster through tired eyes and an even more tired smile.

She didn’t wait to pull him in the apartment before practically collapsing on top of him, arms hugged so tightly around his torso like she was scared he’d slip through her fingers. The helmet fell from his hands to the floor, where the failing plastic shattered into pieces. 

Izuku hugged his mom back just as tightly. Maybe he was a little scared that this would all vanish before his eyes.

Eventually, his mother managed to pull herself off of him, still sniffling and clutching desperately at his arms. Gingerly, she wiped her tears on her sleeve, and smiled at him like he was the sun.

“Izuku…” she trailed off, then tugged his sleeve.

Obediently, he allowed her to pull him into the apartment, and then into the living room where they both settled on the couch. She took one of his hands tightly in hers, and refused to let go. Still crying too, Izuku wouldn’t dare ask.

“I’m sorry,” he said through tears. “I’m so sorry.”

She dragged him back into her arms, and kissed the top of his head.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Izuku,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m just happy you’re alive.”

It was far too little time before she let go. 

He found himself back in his childhood room, decorated in leagues and leagues of All Might and other hero merch, halfway undressed and getting ready for a much needed shower. His mother was in the kitchen, bustling about preparing food. Apparently, she had known he was Deku since that night in Hosu, and had been preparing for the day he’d come home ever since.

After taking a fresh pair of clothes from his closet, he headed for the bathroom, and turned on the shower. 

Izuku let the water wash over him in silence. All the grime that had accumulated over the past several weeks dripped down his body and swirled in large brown patches down the drain. He still had the same soaps from two years ago, halfway filled, and there was even a hero towel waiting on the rack. If he’d stayed, instead of turning to his life of crime, he might have been able to buy this one himself.

For now, he washed his hair and scrubbed his entire body until his skin turned pink, and only then exited the bathroom dressed in fresh clothes and with a Fierce Wings towel hung over his neck like a cape. From a glance at the clock on the wall, he’d been standing under the water for almost an hour.

His old spot at the table had been set. The chair was pulled out. And there was his mother, sitting opposite, waiting for him. When she saw him enter the living room, she smiled at him, got up, and went into the kitchen. She returned with a plate of food, which she set down right on his placemat in front of his seat.

He was overcome with nostalgia.

And hunger, as his stomach growled once the smell reached his nose.

Inko laughed lightly, and gestured to the chair.

She didn’t need to tell him twice.

When he was done, his mother picked up the plate, and hesitated just slightly. “Do you know what you have to do?” Inko asked gently.

With tears still drying in the corners of his eyes, Izuku nodded. “I do.”

Around midnight that very same night, Izuku Midoriya walked into the Musutafu police department, and very politely asked the front desk officer to contact Detective Tsukauchi for him. When inquired why, he just said, “Deku wants to turn himself in.”

Not more than five minutes later, he was secured in an interrogation room in quirk-canceling cuffs, and there were at least three officers barring the door and looking quite like they’d draw their weapons at any moment. He didn’t say much, nor did he attempt to fight their rough handling. Izuku would rather he keep the use of his limbs.

Nobody was stopping him, so Izuku surveyed the room. His hair was freshly washed, and still dripping water down the neck of his All Might hoodie that his mother almost couldn’t bear to have him leave without. Though he had significantly more scars and a shiny new quirk, for the first time in a while Izuku felt like a kid again. He could have walked home from middle school with the way that he was dressed. 

After a while, the people monitoring him left. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he was completely left alone, so he stayed quiet, waiting for Tsukauchi. There was a blinking red light on the camera in the corner, and a speaker in the ceiling next to it. If nobody was on the other side, he would consider them the worst security in all of Japan.

Izuku took a few minutes to just breathe. There were people in his corner, and many others who owed him favors. This would not be his end, nor would it result in the most favorable outcome. But it was the route his life had to travel in the hope for a future, so here, in the quiet interrogation room, he breathed, safe in the knowledge that whatever happened, he would be okay.

The room was quiet, at least, until someone else stepped through the door.

And it was pointedly not Tsukauchi.

Notes:

Let me know what you thought!

Chapter 32: The Offer (hero edition)

The woman that entered made Izuku’s skin prickle. Though she was a rather short woman, all things considered, with no visible quirk traits, she seemed like the personification of death itself. Her suit was neat; not a speck of dust or hair, and a deep, respectful blue. Similarly so was her exposed face and neck, which were pristine and free of any blemishes or particularly noticeable scars.

“Midoriya Izuku, yes?” She smiled, but it wasn’t warm in the slightest. “My name is Tanaka Yuki. I am an embassy of the Hero Commission.”

The woman settled into the seat directly opposite him, and folded her arms neatly on the steel table. She was quiet, and her demeanor polite, extremely so, but something about her was off. 

“Where’s the police officers?” Izuku asked, eyeing the corners of the room. “Isn’t it protocol that they be in the room during an interrogation?”

“I am of the Hero Commission, and you are of no threat to me. Though I’m sure you are aware that there are several officers and other heroes waiting for you on the other side of the door.”

Well, Izuku had his suspicions, but that just confirmed it. She must have some kind of quirk that rendered his ability useless. Or maybe she had physical enhancement, so even if he were to make it out of the handcuffs he wouldn’t be able to do anything.

“Now, let’s discuss the details of your…arrangement.” Her eyes locked with his. “You’ve turned yourself in. You were desperate. Now that our heroes have thrown their focus into capturing you, you were out of options. We had the smartest creature in Japan on our side, blocking you at each turn. So you did the only thing you could do in order to get a reduced sentence.”

She was mostly correct, but he wasn’t turning himself in just because he knew he’d be caught. If he really wanted to go underground, he could have. And nobody would have been able to find him again.

“We know what kind of information you possess, Midoriya. I’m sure you were a valuable asset to the League of Villains. And that brings us to your sentencing. I am willing to be that reduced sentence for you, provided you agree to our terms."

“I know how you people work,” he voiced. “You’ll parade me around now that I’ve been arrested, and try me as an adult to make a statement against other people like me. This ‘reduced sentence’ won’t do much for me, and it’ll cost more than I could pay. I refuse.”

Miss Tanaka did not look deterred. He’d have to work a bit harder.

“I’d have to be on the stand in a very publicized court. Do you know what I could do during my time to speak? I could air out all your dirty laundry. I could offer the key to the world of the information I’ve collected about the HPSC. You don’t know my allies, my hideouts. I’m not working alone.”

Her face twitched, and he gave a slim smile. They truly knew nothing about him. The heroes he frequently interacted with hid his abilities quite well.

Of course, she did not turn impolite, the picture of courtesy. “The Hero Commission would bury you, do you understand? Your final act would do nothing. Your words wouldn’t even reach the public.”

That was unlikely. His trial would be heavily publicized. If he made whatever deal they were offering, that would completely remove his options.

“What do you want from me?” he asked outright.

“What else do your clients come to you for?” she offered in exchange.

She had him there.

“I have no problems giving you the information I collected on the League,” Izuku said, picking his words carefully. “But this is more than that. You want me to become your lapdog, is that it?”

The commission employee smiled, but it wasn’t quite a normal smile. Her teeth were pointed and sharp, and it was more akin to a predator stalking their prey. “In exchange, we are willing to give you your freedom, and grant protection from your enemies.” Before he could open his mouth to refuse, she added, “and your mother’s protection, as well.”

He thought it over for a moment. It was, arguably, beneficial to him, at basically the cost of his soul. The alternative—going to prison, or possibly Tartarus for the rest of his life—was obviously the last thing he wanted. “I don’t really have a choice here, do I?”

“Oh, you always have a choice, Midoriya.” Her fake smile widened far past the realm of uncanny. “But will you choose the right one?”

Izuku Midoriya was escorted off of the premises an hour later, free of quirk cancelling and even normal cuffs, feeling very much like he just made his second deal with the devil. There was a black car with tinted windows waiting outside for him, and one of the police officers walking with him opened it up, much like a chauffeur. 

He poked his head inside. Sitting opposite from where he was standing was Principal Nezu, who gave him a small smile. They didn’t exchange a single word, and Izuku eventually sidled in and settled at the furthest point away from the principal.

The car door closed gently behind him. An engine roared to life.

They began the drive in silence. It stretched uncomfortably into minutes.

From his place staring out the tinted windows, Izuku could see them approaching UA. The sidewalks were mostly deserted. It was too late for most civilians to be out, and especially around UA there was very little crime. With dozens of pro heroes close by, only petty criminals really took their chances. People like Deku were few and far in between. Nobody had gotten that close to UA, or gotten inside the gates, in a while.

He pointedly didn’t count Tomura.

When they got closer, still in silence, Izuku observed the walls laden with machine guns and turrets. All of them were pointed at the street, armed and active since it was far past school hours. The closest one to them spun slightly, even as the gates started to open ahead of them. It was slow, to the point where Izuku almost expected to run straight into them, and the turrets did not seemingly have an ‘off’ switch. Still, the car passed through the gates unscathed, and the heavy doors slammed shut directly behind them.

“Welcome to UA,” the principal said, paws folded neatly in his lap. He made eye contact with Izuku when he looked away from the window. “I’ve said this before, but welcome to your new home. Permanently, this time.”

Like many times before, Izuku looked away, and pointedly did not wipe away at his eyes.

He had a dorm waiting for him in Heights Alliance, a recent addition to campus, where Class 1-A was already living and sleeping. The room was plain now, but it had blankets and pillows and sheets, and he would be allowed to gather his things from his mom in a few days once the details of his deal were hashed out with Nezu. 

While he didn’t know for sure, he had a feeling that Nezu might argue for a lighter workload. He had no idea if their arrangement would allow him to become a hero like the others, or if he’d just permanently be the lapdog of the Commission. Would he even be opposed to that, if it meant he got to help people?

There were a lot of hoops he needed to jump through, sure. But this was getting better. Doing better. Being better.

Izuku had been dropped off in front of the door that would become his new room. But, since the coast was clear, he went back downstairs. He needed to clear his head a little bit, and outdoors seemed like the perfect place to do it. It also had the added benefit that he would avoid being seen by any students that might be roaming the halls past curfew.

He sat down outside on the front steps. It was slightly chilly. The breeze made him wish he’d had a jacket, but it was far from cold enough to warrant going inside to grab one.

The night sky was clear. He couldn’t see many stars from his place in the city, but UA kept most of the lights off when it was dark. Above, there were constellations upon constellations of bright stars twinkling at him. This was a sight he’d never have gotten back home. A chance he wouldn’t have received.

Off in the distance, there were footsteps, a few meters away from the path. A few twigs snapped, steadily approaching his direction.

Izuku didn’t move. Instead, he waited until the figure was barely visible in his periphery.

“Young Midoriya,” said a very familiar voice.

He sighed. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, but now he had no choice. Stuck at UA, this man was one of his teachers, and he needed to be at least a little respectful.

He looked over. “All Might,” Izuku returned, slightly unpleasantly. “What do you want?”

The number one hero was not in his muscular form. Like Izuku remembered, he was skeletal in nature, with dark shadows covering most of his face. Everything about him was sharper and older, like someone chiseled away all the softness of heroes. 

“My boy…” he started hesitantly.

Izuku didn’t particularly like where this was going, but he allowed it to continue.

“That day on the rooftop...”

Yeah, he really didn’t like where this was going.

“...when I mentioned the injury. I’m…I’m sure you now know the details of my quirk, even more than I explained, but I wanted the chance to give you a choice.” 

All Might took a deep breath.

“I am sorry I said you couldn’t be a hero. And I know that with everything you have been doing, you have been more heroic than I have in these past few weeks. But, given everything, I would like to offer it to you.”

“Offer…what?” Izuku asked, barely comprehending what he was implying.

“My quirk,” All Might said. “One For All. The power designed and created to defeat All For One.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“I don’t want it.”

Izuku couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t tempting. But accepting help from All Might now was all just an insult to how he got where he was. He’d made a deal with the devil for his quirk, worked his ass off to keep his life at least somewhat steady, and somehow made it out with a future still in sight for him.

He could be a hero. And he would do it without All Might.

“Young Midoriya-”

“I don’t want it,” he repeated. “And I don’t care about whatever you said. It helped me realize that I could be a hero without a quirk, because I made a damn good villain until I couldn’t take that life any more. So,” he turned away, not even bothering to throw his words over his shoulder, “thanks, but no thanks. I’ll be a hero without your quirk.”

Izuku didn’t want to see the look on the hero’s face as he turned back into the dorms. Because it didn’t matter. He refused to spend his life looking over his shoulder at the hero he adored as a kid. 

Somehow, he thought that All Might might’ve been proud of him for it.

The next day, dressed in the mute gray suit of the UA uniform, Izuku fiddled nervously outside of the 1-A classroom. The door was shut, the class inside silent, and there was absolutely nothing he could listen to. For the last several years, he constantly had headphones over his head or an earpiece in his ears, listening and eavesdropping. Now, that was gone, and he was back to being a normal student. It was so quiet. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“Come in, Midoriya,” Aizawa’s hoarse voice carried through the door, and Izuku immediately straightened. Stiffly, his hand reached for the door handle, and he pulled it open.

Nineteen pairs of eyes immediately latched onto him, and he shuddered, suddenly feeling incredibly self conscious. Every time he stood in front of these students, it was in uniform, with his face covered and his voice adjusted to hide who he knew they were familiar with. Now, he was out in the open, with his face bare and emotions for everyone to see.

Kachaan especially was staring, slack jawed and mouth open. He was pointedly ignored.

“You’ve met Midoriya before,” Eraserhead was saying as Izuku stiffly walked over to stand by the podium. “He’s been your online classmate this year.”

Taking the cue, Izuku bowed low, hands tight to his sides, to the class. “I apologize for not telling you the truth. I’ve been keeping my identity secret to protect my family. My real name is Izuku Midoriya, but you know me as Izumura Shigaraki.”

Muttering broke out among some of the students. Keeping his head down, Izuku closed his eyes. The green marks on the side of his face seemed to burn.

“They also call me Deku.”

Notes:

And here is the official ending! This chapter is meant to be a reference back to the first one, where he got the offer from All For One. I originally agonized over letting All Might take him under his wing, but I think it would undermine everything he stood for. He hated All Might originally, and even though now he's okay with having him around or working as a hero doesn't mean that he's okay taking his quirk, as much as I love the villain!Deku with One For All premise.

Next chapter is the epilogue, which will be released sometime soon!

Chapter 33: Epilogue

Summary:

The end of Cyber Abyss.

From: Izuku Midoriya ([email protected])

To: Shota Aizawa ([email protected]), Naomasa Tsukauchi ([email protected]), Principal Nezu ([email protected])

Thank you.

 

From: Shota Aizawa ([email protected])

To: Izuku Midoriya ([email protected])

There is no need. You did this yourself.

It had taken three years. Three full years of instruction, actual school, and doing metaphorical (and a little bit of physical) battle with the Hero Commission. And now Izuku had not only his provisional hero’s license, but his real license. Izuku no longer needed to work only in cases of emergency or when he’s been strictly authorized. He could use his quirk on his own, with no limits, for his duties as a hero. Just like the others, his graduation was more of a formality than anything.

He and his classmates had lined up (both 3A and 3B), out of sight, and listening to Nezu give a grand speech that somehow managed to change every year even though the general message of how proud he was of the young heroes who had spent time in their halls. Everyone chattered together nervously, both ready and not. Most of them couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

They were called to the stage in alphabetical order by their last name, but everyone was introduced by their hero names. This was due to cases like Aizawa, where he worked primarily as an underground hero and sometimes even as an undercover one. In Izuku’s case, he would be in that category, and due to his prior stint as a vigilante, he was cast to the end of the line in case introducing him as a hero caused an uproar.

He was ready. Though he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and tugging at the fabric of his uniform with nerves, he was ready. His mother had spent no less than an hour making his curls cooperate. He’d woken up long before the sun rose to prepare for this ceremony, even though it took place in the afternoon. This was UA. His soon to be Alma Mater. 

“Pro hero Pinky!” Ashido squealed in delight, and raced onto the stage.

Izuku hadn’t officially signed with an agency, though he’d been officially doing hero-only work for the Commission for years. His pay was expected to increase once he did, but a limelight agency just wasn’t for him. He worked best in the shadows, among the people he once might’ve called friends.

“Pro hero Chargebolt!”

His first big act as a hero-in-training was turning over all the information he’d gathered on the League over. The analysis on every single one of their quirks, what they wanted, their plans that he’d been privy to. The information was enough to corner the League, destroy all of their hideouts, and in the end, draw out All For One. To provoke them, he’d played the part of traitor, and went back to them virtually, claiming that the heroes were attacking him and that he had information. While their guard was lowered, a group of top heroes was able to get in and apprehend Tomura and the remainder of the League.

“Pro hero Battle Fist!”

In the ensuing fight, Izuku realized something. One small, tiny detail that he hadn’t known when he first got his hands on this quirk. Objects connected wirelessly gave off some kind of signal that he’d recently learned he could tap into. And that same signal, he could detect it from All For One’s gear.

Once he pulled the plug, All For One didn’t last long. Doctors pronounced him dead approximately ten minutes later.

“Pro hero Mindblank!”

His classmates each stepped out, some smiling sheepishly, and others loud and excitedly waving to the crowd that somehow cheered louder with every student. They roared when young heroes recognizable as children of present heroes took the stage with their shiny new names and bright, colorful costumes.

Finally, Nezu got to his name. There Izuku stood, about to walk onto the stage, with his old helmet tucked under his arm and the green marks down the suit design that he once wore with the League of Villains. The hero costume company had done a perfect job of replicating it from the old photos that went around when he’d been attacked by Endeavor. Now with several upgrades, he was far more protected than before and had several pieces of new technology dragging him down. At one point, he would have found it hard to move. Now, he could parkour just like he did as a kid without even noticing the extra weight.

“Pro hero Deku!”

Izuku stepped out onto the wooden stage into the sunlight, waving his hand at the thousands of astonished civilians that had just fallen silent.

And there was chaos.

Notes:

And thats a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through the four years it took to finish this. My writing has definitely improved a lot since the start, so periodically I'll be going through and updating/editing chapters. Major plot points will not change, but I thought Izuku was a little too edgy at times XD.

If you haven't reread the first several chapters, they've been updated! Most of them also have update dates as well, just so I can keep it straight. The ones that were posted within the last year or so probably won't change unless I find a grammar thing I need to fix. Feel free to let me know in the comments if you see any! I accept constructive criticism.

I would also like to note that the emails I used are (from my research at least) pretty close to how they'd be structured in Japan! I was very proud of that little detail.

See you all on the other side o7

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of My MHA Drabbles :)