Chapter Text
IzuDori Analysis and Support was booming.
They’d come out with an array of analysis lines, support lines, medical lines – anything the hero system could need, IzuDori Analysis had thought of. Anything and everything civilians could need to make life easier, and more enjoyable, IzuDori Analysis had thought of.
The company had broken through the cracks as powerfully as All Might’s debut, and they had started tearing at the system from the get-go, making a name for themselves as an analysis and support company whose only goal was to help everyone.
Izuku Midoriya had helped so many people already, and he was just getting started.
Inko and her seven-year-old son were watching a hero fight on the TV when his analytical mind first came to fruition. They’d been watching Endeavor, of all people, and as the fight dragged on, Izuku spoke up.
“Mama, why didn’t Endeavor move the bad guy away?”
She was silent, for a moment. She tried to understand where he was coming from, but as she wracked her brain, she really couldn’t think of anything that made the slightest amount of sense in her mind.
It was no secret that her son was a hero fan. He’d had no friends since the age of four, yet he’d happily occupied his time by watching hero fight after hero fight, always watching the screen with the kind of attention most mother’s could only dream about for their kids.
There was something there that always sparked in his eyes, Inko could see. There was a determination there, a drive eating away at him to pay as much attention to the fight as possible, even if he himself didn’t know it yet.
It made her happy, seeing her boy so interested and full of life, all while knowing that each passing day was getting harder and harder.
“What do you mean, honey?” she’d finally asked, turning to face the boy.
“If Endeavor had moved the bad guy away from all of the buildings, they wouldn’t be on fire! And then he’d have much more space to take the bad guy down!” Izuku exclaimed, pointing at the screen as he spoke, showing his mother where he would move the villain himself, if he were in Endeavor’s shoes. “He’d be able to use his super move too, mama!”
She sat in shock, before looking at the screen again – to find that Izuku, her seven-year-old son, was right. At seven years old, her boy had managed to find a way to lessen property damage, save civilian lives and help the heroes chances in the process, just by watching a few minutes of a fight that was aired on TV.
It was…honestly genius.
Izuku didn’t even realise how smart he was in that moment. He was confused – why was his mama so surprised? Everybody thought of this stuff! It was easy to do, you just had to look closely. He wasn’t sure why mama was acting like that, but he didn’t care. He liked doing this! It was so fun looking at all of the heroes fighting, and seeing where they could be better.
As Izuku focused back on the TV, Inko kept staring at her son, thinking over every instance where he had effortlessly analysed heroes like that. Sure, it could use some work – but he was only seven, and already thinking of ways to help the heroes fight better, more efficiently.
She was so fucking proud of him.
She needed to call Hisashi – who was sadly, in Los Angeles – and tell him everything. The man would want to hear about Izuku’s analytical skill, and he’d probably be able to help the boy with it, too. Her husband was an analyst, and it was clear to her that Izuku had talent.
Her son had a talent that could help so many people, and if given the chance, she was sure that Izuku would figure out how to help everyone and anyone, not just the heroes.
If anybody could help everybody, it would be Izuku.
Inko was brought out of her thoughts by Izuku’s high-pitched yawn, though the boy desperately tried to hide the fact he was tired, by grinning and jumping around – which only served to make him more tired, so Inko let him do it.
Eventually, she got him into bed, and he fell asleep to the tale of a young boy who grew up to be the worlds best hero. He slept with a smile, causing one of her own to grace her features, before a look of focus flitted through.
She quietly yet quickly walked out of her sons room and called her husband, who was obviously extremely happy to hear his wife call him. However, the man couldn’t even greet her as she bulldozed over him, frantically speaking in a panic, twinged with excitement and wonder all the same.
“Hisashi, did you know our son is probably a genius?”
“Woah, slow down a second, love,” Hisashi laughed. “Tell me everything.”
“Okay, so Izuku and I were watching Endeavor fight a villain on the telly, when he says…”
By age nine, Izuku and his dad were closer than ever before. He no longer looked at people hanging out with their friends and wishing it were him, and he no longer looked towards Kachaan with a feeling of overwhelming sadness.
He’d accepted his fate, and besides, who needed friends when he had his parents?
While he was alone at school during the day, at night his dad had been going over his analysis with him. Ever since he’d been told about his sons analytical prowess, they’d scheduled a time to call and work on all kinds of analysis, all while Inko looked on fondly.
Hisashi was impressed, to say the least. He didn’t think Inko was lying, per say, but he did think she’d exaggerated slightly. Her love for Izuku knew only leaps and bounds, as did his own, so he was pleasantly surprised and very impressed as Izuku rattled off about a quirk he’d only seen once, listing the technicalities of it, and how it could be improved with a few simple steps, and a multitude of theories that would surely send someone into a panic .
The boy had broken down the quirk completely, and turned it into something new.
At nine.
Izuku, on the other hand, was happy. He loved learning about quirks! His dad let him learn and talk about quirks every night, which was more than his old friends could say.
One night, he had an important question.
“Dad, what if a hero fights a villain whose fighting style counteracts their quirk?”
“What do you mean, bud?” Hisashi asked, pausing in his writing and peering at Izuku through the screen of their video call.
“I meant, what if a heroes quirk isn’t enough? What can they do?” Izuku stressed. “I mean, adapting their fighting style to strengthen their quirk could work, or they could have a secondary fight style where they’d barely use their quirks, but analysis on their quirk could be handy too so villains don’t get the upper hand, but that would have to be coded…”
Hisashi was rendered into silence as Izuku started to mutter into his fist, writing down everything in a notebook at lightning speed. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but…that was smart. It was genius.
His spur of the moment ideas could help so many heroes in the field and with their careers. Hisashi’s brain drew a blank as he tried to come up with other ways to help the heroes in the situation Izuku suggested, but…he couldn’t.
“Izu, slow down,” Hisashi chuckled, shaking his head. “Take it from the top. What can they do, if their quirk isn’t enough?”
Izuku tilted his head. “They’d have to focus on their fight style, right? And their range of attack?”
“Why are you forming your answers as a question, buddy? I want you to tell me.”
“Sorry, it’s a habit,” Izuku muttered – a frown graced Hisashi’s face, but he let it go – before speaking up once more. “The heroes would have to focus on their fight style. They’d have to be prepared to ‘fight dirty’, and use every loophole to their knowledge so the villain doesn’t get an advantage over them.
They’d also have to change their range of attack, stop using common moves and defenses…basically, a hero could – and should – learn two different fighting styles, so they can fall back when they need to and still have the upper hand. Also, having their quirk analysed is always a good thing.”
Izuku spoke clearly, using language that was advanced for his age and truly showed his mental prowess. He appeared to have thought his ideas out well – but in reality, these were all spur of the moment ideas that were normal for him.
Hisashi’s jaw had dropped after about three sentences. He gestured for Izuku to keep going, which the boy happily did, rattling off about a multitude of ways that heroes could better themselves for the safety of Japan.
And Izuku didn’t stop for another ten minutes. Hisashi added his own two cents every so often, but really, it was all Izuku. He was thinking so far outside the box with every idea and tip, it was truly a wonderful and eye-opening experience. Hisashi couldn’t have been prouder.
Of course, he let Izuku know this, who simply said; “I mean, doesn’t everyone think of stuff like this?”
To which, Hisashi had to tell Izuku no, not everyone thinks the way you do.
As the topic moved onto how to structure analysis notes, Hisashi couldn’t help but think; this kid is going to be one of the greats.
Izuku’s journey towards his final year of elementary school began with his teachers getting crueler, and his classmates getting bolder, and meaner. Singular red spider lilies found their way onto his desk and into his locker, as well as pins in his shoes and gum in his hair.
News paper articles about teenaged, quirkless suicides turned themselves into bookmarks in his text books. Jeers about his uselessness, his weirdness, his quirklessness came from all sides of every room – everything that made him stand out was used against him.
All of the teachers watched, and did nothing, even going as far as to subtly encourage the students to keep harming him, as if he were nothing. He carefully hid the bruises on his arms and legs, and realised that Junior High would only bring worse treatment.
He had to make the rough decision to stop bringing his notebook to school, after it had been destroyed three times in one week. He didn’t like rewriting everything all the time, and he was starting to run out of excuses to tell his parents.
They’d already been asking about his grades, which he never disclosed because how was he supposed to explain that his teachers hated him, because he was quirkless? How was he supposed to explain that, in order to stay under the radar, he had to act like they wanted him to; useless and stupid?
He knew he wasn’t stupid. He could see it on his teachers’ faces when they purposefully used advanced language to confuse him, only for the ‘smart’ students to get confused, and for Izuku to thrive. He could see it in the way he wrote his assignments – that was, until he dumbed himself down so he wasn’t accused of cheating.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing. It was just hard.
Maybe he should think about homeschooling…
He at least had his parents to heal the wounds that other people caused…yet, it still wasn’t enough. He wanted people outside of his immediate family to know what he was working on, and what he was capable of.
He needed other people to know what was going on in his brain all the time, and, at the ripe age of ten years old, he decided to share an analysis he made up. He did it safely, of course. He wouldn’t analyse a quirk and post it all over the internet, because that’s how heroes got killed.
But fighting styles were free game. They were easily adaptable, and would always end up being used differently – it didn’t matter who picked it up.
He shared the analysis before bed, falling asleep with a smile.
Morning rolled around and Izuku went through his usual morning routine, texting with his dad and talking to his mum over breakfast. It was nice enough that he forgot about the post he had made the night before…until he opened his laptop, and found over ten-thousand notifications waiting for him.
mid-doriah @izudori 14hrs
FightingAnalysis.PDF
LoopholesInFighting.PDF
5.4k replies 12.4 retweets 38k likes Share
Izuku’s gasp, and consequential scream had Inko sprinting into her sons room – only to find the boy crying happily as he stared at his computer screen. He was in shock, reading all of the replies he had gotten from his very first post.
↪ kashi @kakashi 10hrs
who else thinks this is actually genius?
1.3k replies 421 retweets 2.4k likes Share
| not-here @imnothere 10hrs
Yes! This could change the game, man.
875 replies 98 retweets 429 likes Share
↪ burn-shit @gottalovearson 9hrs
this is insanely smart…how has nobody done this yet?
2.1k replies 751 retweets 1.4k likes Share
↪ mmmmcoffee @mybloodiscaffeine 9hrs
this will save so many of our heroes’ lives
983 replies 108 retweets 672 likes Share
Inko kissed his forehead, telling him how she always knew he was smart, and that he would be someone special in this world…and then ran out of the house to go to work before she was late, leaving Izuku alone – who was still just staring at the screen, reading and rereading all of the comments he had gotten. There were so many of them, and it was…nice.
Though at the same time, the entire ordeal was strange. He’d never been on the receiving end of such praise until now, if he didn’t count his parents. Not in six years, at least. He briefly wondered if his quirk status would discredit everything said in the tweet, but pushed the thought away.
His father would kill him for thinking like that, and Izuku chuckled at the thought of being lectured about his quirk status again and again, like the other seven times he’d brought it up so far.
Who cares if he’s quirkless? Fighting villains wasn’t for the weakest of hearts, but instead for those who were brave, regardless of their quirk. Quirks were tools, and he knew that.
His quirk didn’t add anything to his level of knowledge and understanding.
Therefore, his status didn’t matter.
He glanced at all the comments before closing his laptop again, happy with himself. Now he just had to tell his dad!
Izuku let Hisashi know everything a week later, when the man had time to call him finally. He was incredibly impressed with the outcome of the whole ordeal, but also wasn’t surprised. He knew Izuku was smart. He knew the boy was going to be one of the greats, and here he was, proving it to the world.
He knew that Izuku was going to change the world. Izuku’s interest in heroes paired with his desperate need to help everyone and anyone was making him one of the best there was. It was the start of something great, and he wanted to help his son achieve everything he wanted to and more. He wanted nothing more than to help Izuku with his future, his career, his life and his needs.
Still, Hisashi let the boy ramble, not breaking his poker face as Inko flicked him a text threatening him into adding firewalls to Izuku’s new twitter account – how the woman knew he could hack and code, he didn’t know, and didn’t dare to find out – before the day was done.
Izuku barely took a breath as he realised what he wanted to do.
“Dad, I just want to help people,” he breathed, stars dancing in his eyes. “My analysis can do that, but I need there to be more! There has to be more I can do!”
“What about support gear?” Hisashi suggested with a smirk. “You could provide safe gear, and I’m sure you’ll come up with ways to make them unique.”
“But that’s helping heroes!” Izuku stressed. “I want to help everyone!”
“You’re smart, Izu,” Hisashi chuckled. “You’ll figure it out. And when you do…I’ll be here to help.”
Izuku threw himself into learning all he could about support gear, texting his father with every question and query he had. Every small idea he had, he texted to his dad, and every piece of information he had learnt was rambled at the man through their now nightly video calls.
He’d never thought the support world was so interesting, but here he was, learning about it. There were so many things he could do with it to help the heroes, but he really didn’t know where to start.
After about a week of drawing blank after blank, he came up with the, frankly obvious, idea to analyse already existing hero support gear, and how to make it better as a way to start . Of course, this took even more research into figuring out the logistics of the support gear and how it had been made in the first place, but Izuku was nothing if not determined.
He wanted to help. He would help, no matter what. How could he be a hero, if he didn’t help other people? He still wanted to be a hero, but all of this was so interesting to him! If he could learn about the hero industry, and help, then he’d be the best hero he could be.
That all he wanted. He wanted to be good, and he needed to help whoever he could. There was no other option for him.
Soon enough, Izuku was flying through descriptions of the basics for support gear, and was reading advanced texts and analysing blueprints of hero support gear from wherever he could get his hands on it all.
Within a month, Izuku could spot flaws in design and efficiency for almost every limelight hero there was, and a few underground heroes as well. His father was giving him many vague tips, letting Izuku do most of the work as he only directly answered the technical questions about analysis and support.
It frustrated him at first, and his mum actually had to force him away from his research for a day so he could focus on school and himself for once, but it turns out the break was all he needed to clear his head and start with fresh eyes. His father was encouraging him to learn as he went, and in turn, Izuku was coming up with so many ideas for heroes and their support gear.
He talked about it on a phone call with his father, the man radiating pride and passion as Izuku spoke.
“If these heroes could see that their current support gear was going to break after one fight, they’d be able to both get some new gear, and be more efficient during villain attacks!” Izuku exclaimed, his eyes shining.
“Exactly,” his dad replied. “You’ve done a lot of research into this, haven’t you?”
“Of course! It’s all so cool to learn about! But…Dad, I still don’t know how I’m going to branch out!” he’d complained, almost whining.
“What do you mean, bud?”
“These ideas would all help heroes – at least, my twitter followers seem to think so. But how am I supposed to help everyone?”
“Well,” Hisashi drawled, smirking at Izuku. “Heroes aren’t the only ones that struggle with their quirks.”
“Well, yeah, but – OH!”
mid-oriah @izudori 9hrs
CivilianAnalysis.PDF
PlansOfAction.PDF
38.4k replies 27.3k retweets 113k likes Share
Izuku’s ideas for civilian analysis was going viral. People were starting to be more open about their struggles with their quirks in his replies, and he was bursting at the seams with the amount of praise he was getting.
Kids at his school were starting to see the world in a new light, as well. They weren’t treating everyone nicely, per say, but there was an obvious change in the dynamics of the bullying everybody was receiving. It warmed his heart to think about.
He ignored the fact this niceness only lasted a week, as the hype over his most recent tweet died down. His classmates didn’t even know it was him that was posting everything, and he planned to keep it that way. He wanted his personal life away from everything he’d built online, thank you.
Inko was happy for him, as was his dad…though his dad was acting really weird right now.
“Hey, buddy? I have an idea,” Hisashi finally spoke up, looking at Izuku intently as he leant back in his chair, wringing his hands together.
“Okay! What for?”
“How would you feel about starting a company for your analysis and support ideas?”
Izuku gasped, and shook his head. “Dad, I’m eleven.”
“I know, bud,” Hisashi laughed, shaking his head. “I’d be the face of the company, here in Los Angeles. But… you’d be the actual CEO, the founder of the company, just behind the scenes. It would be your name – or similar – as the company name, and your ideas.”
Izuku gaped at his father, at a loss for words.
“How…how would that even work?” Izuku asked. “You don’t have workers, or even the means to open a company–”
“A lot of people owe me favours, so don’t worry about that,” Hisashi dismissed. “Plus, some of my coworkers want to change firms, but we’re already at the ‘best of the best.’ Think of this as a fresh start, a new face in the industry that can help people in every way imaginable.”
Inko was starting to tear up next to Izuku, but he ignored in in favour of gaping like a fish. All he wanted to do was help, after all, and here was his chance, displayed to him ona silver platter.
“I think I’d be an idiot if I said no,” Izuku admitted shakily, grinning at his father all the same.
“Yes!” his dad cheered, punching the air with his excitement. “Alright! Start planning what you want to release for our opening. Analysis, support – whatever. Get cracking, bud. We’re changing the game.”
Three weeks later, Izuku received official blueprints for civilian and hero support gear in America, as well as plans towards the opening of analysis commissions. He’d also been sent a program designed for his analysis, and another for his support gear creations.
It was the best thing he’d ever received in his life, and he was using it to his advantage every day.
American support laws weren’t as uptight as the Japanese ones were, which is why the Midoriya’s decided to open their company in Los Angeles, where his father resided. It would make it easier on him to be the face of the company that way, and to hide Izuku’s true involvement from the public.
He had just finished his elementary years, and was on the end of year break, so he didn’t want to be thrown into the spotlight so soon. It also meant he had plenty of time to work on the gear, and the plans for his analysis.
Even though American support laws were relatively lax, they decided that opening up analysis commissions would be the best way to start, and they’d release the support gear for both civillians and heroes alike at a later date. Although, they’d definitely start to tease it through Izuku’s twitter account – which was now the company account.
He’d been nervous to run the account now there was an actual company being represented through it, but…it was also the coolest thing ever .
Izuku was excited. He’d never thought he’d be able to help like this in his entire life, and now that is was actually happening, he was over the moon.
He was helping, and making a change.
Three months later, Izuku and Inko were surprised with tickets to Los Angeles, and a week after that, Izuku was finally in his fathers arms in the middle of the airport terminal, the Midoriya family tears on full display.
They’d found a nice, three story building to open the company with, and all outside renovations were set to be completed within the three-week timeframe of Inko and Izuku’s visit to LA.
All three people were over the moon, incredibly excited, and super nervous for what was to come. They didn’t know how the public would react to the company, or the lines they’d be releasing to them, but there was no harm in trying. Izuku in particular was extremely excited for this, seeing his dreams of helping people come to a life in a way he never thought would be imaginable.
The employees already working dutifully at the company building were geniuses in their own rights, though they all seemed far too shocked to function as an eleven-year-old Izuku shoved blueprints under their noses, demanding to know what they thought of his ideas.
Elliot, one of the technicians in the civilian support team for IzuDori Analysis and Support, asked Izuku where and how he had thought of such revolutionary ideas, only to gape when Izuku replied; ‘everybody thinks like this, right? I’m just writing everything down,” before he ran off to find the analysis team, and subject them to the same fate as the support ones.
Hisashi and Elliot shared a laugh as they both realised how far Izuku would go in this world.
Izuku was going to be – no, he already was one of the greats. The world just hadn’t seen it yet.
zuzu-dori @IzuDoriCo 12hrs
surprise, LA :D
2.1m replies 3.7m retweets 8.3m likes Share
Izuku’s time in LA was spent with all of the different teams throughout the three departments, coming up with ideas, plans, dates and even more plans for what they could release to the public as soon as possible.
The analysis team had come up with a program that would scan applications for analysis support for both heroes and civilians, giving them options on what they wanted analysed, whether that be their quirk, fighting style, or both, and how detailed they wanted the report to be.
From there, the program would run a simple background check, before being cleared for commission, where a pair of analysts would tackle the case. The case would then be sent to Hisashi and Izuku for them to look through and check, adding their own ideas to the mix before sending it off to the client.
For civilians, however, they had added another option.
Since most civilians typically didn’t need their fighting styles analysed unless they were in some form of physical activity, such as martial arts, they added to option to write down what they typically do in a week, the tasks they have and what their job offers them, so the analysts that take on their case can give them tips, suggestions, and plans to better their lifestyles.
The support teams – one for hero, and one for civilian support – worked tirelessly on ideas, plans, blueprints and learning about laws and loopholes they could use to their advantage, making their support gear the best it could be.
Heroes and civilians would have to do in person pick ups for their support items, showing their ID to the workers and making sure nobody picks up their gear for them. Izuku had suggested making that a policy to avoid any villains getting their hands on the gear, which Hisashi had readily agreed to.
Inko then made sure Hisashi had added copious amounts of firewalls to every piece of technology and digital software they had, making sure emails, phone numbers – everything was protected from being hacked and doxxed.
Their company was going to be something the world took by storm, which was…something out of a dream for Izuku. When his father had told him what the company was going to be called, Izuku felt like he was on cloud nine. Now, he wanted to bring everyone else up there with him.
IzuDori planned to decimate the competition, and to start to challenge the quirkist ideals that many heroes and civilians still had in this day and age. Support gear did not need to be frowned upon and forgotten about. Instead, it needed to be normalised and praised by society. It needed to be known that support gear was a tool, just like quirks were.
The world needed to know that heroes were training to be their best, and if a little gear helped keep their country safe? So be it.
They were helping people. That’s all Izuku ever wanted.
Back in Japan, Izuku’s middle school days were getting worse and worse. He’d missed a few weeks of school due to being in LA with his dad at the company, which meant his teachers were working him to the bone to catch up to his peers, giving him extra work that surely wasn’t actually due already. His grades were dropping with every test he turned in, and the bullying had become more physical than ever before.
On multiple occasions, Izuku had to hide bruises and cuts from his mother and father, which was getting harder and harder every day as his bullies got bolder, meaner, and quicker. He wasn’t doing well, but he digressed.
It helped that he could focus on other things other than schoolwork and bullies. The analysis lines they’d released were gaining traction with the American public, and Izuku was having the time of his life learning about all of the different quirks, and ways to help people control them.
He’d thrown himself head first into his work, and even though Inko and Hisashi tried to get him to slow down, Izuku wouldn’t. He was having too much fun while doing it, anyways, and he desperately needed the distraction.
Eventually, Inko and Hisashi saw his efforts for what it was, and let him continue without much fanfare.
As he continued to analyse, he’d get nothing but praises from clients and the team of analysts at IzuDori, which almost always put a smile on his face, and caused a few happy tears. Despite the fact he’d been posting online for almost two years now, and had met almost every worker at IzuDori, he still wasn’t used to the praise he was getting.
It wasn’t that he hated it – of course he didn’t! He was simply accustomed to being told he was stupid and useless from everyone barring his parents, and it was taking some time to adjust to this newfound praise and gratitude.
He’d get there eventually, he was sure of it.
“Hey, bud? How would you feel about taking this analysis case alone? Everyone at the firm is too scared to do it themselves,” Hisashi asked, grinning at Izuku.
“Why are they too scared? It’s just analysis, they do it all the time!” Izuku questioned, not bothering to look up from his notes as his father chatted away with him.
“Because, kiddo, the client is our first Pro Hero.”
“ What?” Izuku gasped, whipping his head up from his notes to gape at his dad, who was looking at Izuku with all kinds of amusement. “A Pro Hero applied for an analysis on their quirk? Who is it?”
“He’s in the regional top fifty in LA,” Hisashi started, laughing at Izuku’s expression. “His hero name is ‘Magicka,’ and he’s got some type of telekinesis quirk.”
“Holy shit, I’ve heard of him!” Izuku exclaimed, vibrating in his seat. “That’s neat! Can I – I need to have a video of his quirk in use, and–”
“Izu, I’ve already sent his contact information over to you. Go have fun with it,” his father chuckled, and Izuku nodded excitedly.
“Oh, this is so cool!”
Magicka’s quirk wasn’t telekinesis, apparently – not that the hero actually knew that.
Izuku was looking through the videos he’s found online, as well as the one Magicka had sent in himself, and he’d found some inconsistencies with how the quirk actually operated in comparison to its name.
First, he could pull things out of the ground, such as a slab of concrete – where the concrete would still be connected into the floor, similar to Cementoss’ quirk. He could do it with other materials too, such as dirt, bark, water, etc.
Second, he could seemingly change the way the wind blew around him and the object he was carrying during every fight, which should not work with his quirk.
And third, he’d seen Magicka take control of a villain before, but not to the extent it should have been. If the hero’s quirk was simply telekinesis, the villain he’d picked up would be able to move every limb of her own free will.
But instead, the villain was rendered immobile, and wasn’t in control of the steps she was taking.
Which meant Magicka’s quirk wasn’t actually telekinesis. It was matter control.
He’d messaged his father about it, and the man had agreed that calling the hero would be the best way to break the news, since meeting in person wasn’t an option at the time. Izuku was a little disappointed he couldn’t go back to LA for it, but he digressed.
Two days later, Magicka had signed three NDA’s regarding Izuku’s identity, the sharing of the workings of the company, and the regulations about it. While Magicka was allowed to mention the founder, Izuku’s name, age, location, and general identity was to remain hidden from the public until the two deemed it safe enough to release it. Izuku couldn’t wait for that day to come, but for now, he was content.
Maybe they should have all heroes sign NDA’s, so Izuku could call them for his reports if needed…
“Izu, are you ready for Magicka to get here? Elliot is bringing him into the office in a few minutes,” Hisashi asked, smiling.
“Yeah! I hope he’s not too disappointed or something, but it was hard finding information from scratch since his quirk isn’t actually telekinesis,” Izuku rambled, smiling from ear to ear.
“I’m sorry, what?” Magicka spluttered, walking into the office after Elliot, who’d left as soon as Magicka was in the room. “My quirk’s…what – hey, why is there a literal nine-year-old on screen?”
“Hey! I’m twelve!” Izuku pouted. “And I'm the one helping you with your quirk!”
“Remember the NDA’s, Magicka,” Hisashi smirked.
“No shit, man,” Magicka snarked. “What is this kid doing, anyway? He’s a bit young to work for IzuDori.”
“Kid? Want to introduce yourself?”
“Sure!” Izuku cheered with vindictive glee. “My name is Izuku Midoriya, and I’m the founder and secret CEO of IzuDori Analysis and Support!”
The way Magicka’s jaw had dropped was seared into his brain, and Izuku grinned. Oh yeah, he was doing good. He was helping people, just like he always wanted to do.
It didn’t help that his dad was in the background, laughing so hard he almost fell off of his chair as he clutched his ribs, trying to catch his breath.
It wasn’t that funny, right?
“Jesus…alright kid, what’s this about my quirk not being telekinesis?”
“Right! So when I was looking at the videos, specifically the one where you moved the villain with your quirk, I realised that the functionality of the quirk doesn’t work within the ‘laws’ of telekinesis. Sure, you can pick someone up with telekinesis, but they’d have full control over their bodies and limbs.
When you did it, you had forced the villain to start walking toward you, which is why her movements were so jerky. With that information, and looking at how you managed to move wind, I can deduce that your quirk isn’t telekinesis, but matter control.”
Hisashi was laughing silently as Magicka gaped at Izuku, at a loss for words.
“I…what the fuck?”
“Language!” Hisashi gasped through his laughter, only to chuckle and sober up when he got an unimpressed stare from Izuku.
“Anyway! Now I’m going to tell you how to apply this information into your fighting style, and your career.”
Magicka had ended up rising to the top twenty in three weeks after taking Izuku’s advice, which was…insane. He didn’t think his analysis was that good, but after the hero had sung the company praises in an interview, their analysis line had been steadily growing with each passing day.
They’d split the analysis team into two, for both civilian and hero analysis, and hired more people to scatter throughout both teams due to the sudden influx of heroes sending through applications. The offices were bustling with people at almost every hour of the day, and it got to the point where both Hisashi and Izuku had to send emails to people that were still clocked in after one in the morning, telling them to pack up and go home.
Their workload had increased a significant deal, and it was hard, but so, so worth it. Izuku couldn’t have been happier with the progress that was being made, and spending more and more time with his father and talking to various heads of the departments was making Izuku much more confident in his abilities as an analyst.
He’d still been dabbling in the support areas, coming up with ideas and helping out the teams involved in every project, but he focused on the analysis side of the support gear, helping them focus the gear to specific aspects of use, though many of their items had universal applications so they could help everyone.
IzuDori was changing the heroics game, and nobody was ready for it.
dori-dori @IzuDoriCo 4hrs
Thank you Magicka for the kind words! We look forward to working with you in the future :)
3.7m replies 4.6m retweets 9.3m likes Share
After Magicka had spoken out about the company's analysis, more and more heroes were applying for analysis reports on their quirks and their fighting styles, and America could see how far they were going to go as a company. Many heroes outside of LA were starting to take note of the company now as well, which in turn meant their efforts were recognised country-wide.
It was actually insane, and Izuku had no idea what to do with the information. He was happy to help everyone as best as he could, of course. That meant doing everything in his power to work towards creating a better society for heroes, no matter where he was.
Hisashi and Izuku were proud of themselves, and Inko was in turn proud of her two boys. They’d managed to start changing the game when Izuku was only twelve, much to everyone’s surprise. They thought it would take at least a few years to get up and running properly, maybe when Izuku was in high school. But with only two years left of Junior High, Izuku had exceeded expectations once again, and was rising to the top.
“Yo, Dori!” Elliot cheered on screen, who had walked into his dads office during a video call one day.
All of the staff at IzuDori had started using the last half of the company name to refer to Izuku, mainly because Hisashi had – jokingly, hopefully – threatened everyone who had called him ‘Izu’ at least once.
So, Dori it was, but Izuku actually loved it. It was a nickname he was finally proud of, rather than ashamed of. He didn’t want to be the useless Deku for the rest of his life. Here, talking to people at the company he was secretly founding, he was Dori, the child analyst and support kid who was definitely playing a bigger part than any of the workers actually knew about.
Besides Elliot. That man had signed NDA’s after his first week, because he’d gone to Hisashi personally to talk about the tiny version of him – and demanded to know what Izuku was contributing to the company.
Elliot wasn’t even surprised, which was the best part.
“Hey, Elliot! Why are you still running papers to dad like an intern?” Izuku teased, smirking at the man.
“It’s fine, kiddo. I like doing this,” Elliot promised, though Hisashi did have a thoughtful look on his face.
“Elliot, what do you think about getting a promotion?” Hisashi spoke, turning in his chair to face the man. Izuku grinned through the screen, glad his father had picked up on his extremely subtle hint to get Elliot working higher up in the company.
“Uh, sorry – what?” Elliot stammered, looking between Hisashi and Izuku. “Why would I get a promotion?”
“Maybe because you’ve got the drive for it, you’re the most organised, you can lead multiple teams at once, and because I want to give you one?” Izuku interrupted, smiling softly at the blushing man.
“I…I would be honoured,” Elliot agreed. “Though, what’s the promotion for?”
“Easy!” Izuku cheered. “You’re going to be the head of the support teams.”
The start to Izuku’s second year of Junior High came with a burn to his shoulder, and cruel words hissed in his ear. It started with a vase of red spider lilies on his desk, and a note with detailed instructions on how to end up dead.
It started with the teachers – once again – belittling him, forgetting his name and calling him ‘Deku’ only five minutes after the class had started.
Bakugou – because he could no longer be considered ‘Kachaan’ – was glaring at him the whole day, seemingly itching for a chance to corner the boy and attack him for daring to be open and happy, for being so dead-set on becoming a hero when all he ever wanted to do was lend a helping hand to those in need.
Bakugou didn’t know how close Izuku actually was already, to doing exactly what he’d been dreaming of doing. In fact, Izuku was already there . He had no idea that Izuku was helping heroes, and famous ones at that. Bakugou didn’t know that Izuku was helping civilians, too, with the ‘creepy stalker notes’ that the explosive blond hated so much.
Bakugou had no idea that he was falling behind, and Izuku refused to be the one to tell him.
Bakugou just wanted a punching bag, someone to take his frustration out on when the anger became too much to deal with. He wanted someone to belittle, and Izuku fit the bill. Small, scrawny, and quirkless.
Weak, and useless.
Bakugou got his chance after school, dragging Izuku behind the school and immediately using his signature right hook to punch Izuku across the jaw, leaving the green-haired teen in a heap of limbs on the ground.
“You think you’re better than me, huh?” Bakugou screamed, standing over Izuku with a scowl on his face. “Think you can be a hero, one that’s actually worth something?”
“Yes, I do,” Izuku whispered, hiding his face from the blond as he cowered on the ground. He realised in this moment that he probably needed to start working out if he wanted to get into UA’s hero course, but the thought was pushed to the back of his mind as Bakugou grabbed a fistful of hair, and slammed his head down into the ground.
Izuku saw stars as his head cracked open slightly, blood beginning to slide down his face, and into his eye.
“You, Deku, are nothing. Remember that.”
Izuku sat on the couch with a sheepish look on his face. His mother had come home around three hours ago, one after Izuku, had seen her son’s face and had immediately taken him to the hospital, where the gash on his forehead received five stitches.
He was also already forming a black eye, and his eyebrow was swelling.
Inko had sat him down when they got back from the emergency room, had made him a hot chocolate to calm his nerves, and called Hisashi, who damn near started crying upon seeing Izuku’s face.
“Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was, Izu? Or your mother?”
“Because it’s easier that way,” Izuku whispered, hugging his knees. “It’s just Bakugou. He’s the only one who can see through the bullshit I use at school. It's easy acting like the dumb little weakling that they want me to be, because you taught me that wasn’t true a very long time ago.”
Inko was sniffling next to Izuku, whom he did not look at in fear of crying himself. Hisashi ran a hand down his face, clearly trying not to cry as he thought of what to say.
Izuku, on the other hand, felt guilty for stressing his parents out so much. They didn’t know about the suicide baiting yet, and he wasn’t planning on letting them know, either. At least not yet. It was manageable for now, so he kept it all inside and continued with his life.
“Izu, baby, you have to tell us these things,” his mother whispered brokenly. “How can we deal with it if we don’t know about it?”
“That’s the thing, mum!” Izuku argued. “They don’t care! The teachers encouraged all the other kids – everyone forgot my name! I’m just stupid, useless, worthless Deku,” he finally spat, pushing his eyes into his knees and sobbing silently.
Inko started rubbing his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he cried, every breath ending in a shudder. Hisashi was audibly seething through the screen, and when Izuku finally looked up, he saw that his father had actually lost control of his fire breathing, and smoke was pouring out of the edges of his mouth.
Izuku was stunned, having never seen his father lose control like that before. He got it back under control in seconds, to which Hisashi simply shrugged his shoulders at Inko’s gaze, knowing she would understand.
“Okay, bud. What do you want us to do?”
Turns out, Izuku didn’t need his parents to do anything, since he’d come to school with a scowl on his face, looking like a delinquent all the same. He changed his tactic ever so slightly this time, walking onto the grounds with a glare, and no anxious trembling in sight.
People who never talked to him steered clear, and the physical bullying ceased momentarily as they saw the look in Izuku’s face.
He wasn’t there to mess around, and he made sure everybody knew it. The teachers tried to give him work that was either too easy or too hard, and Izuku simply glared, holding his hand out for the real worksheet he needed to work on.
It was working far too well, and Izuku loved it. Bakugou, on the other hand, hated it with a burning passion. He’d burnt Izuku’s notebook that day – thankfully, it wasn’t one for his IzuDori projects – and ripped a hole in his backpack with a smirk.
Izuku didn’t care. He had much more important things to focus on than school – which he found was actually so much easier than he’d originally thought, now that he wasn’t being targeted for breathing in every class. He would never be above average at Aldera due to their discrimination towards him, but he already knew he was ahead of everybody in his class, and didn’t give his grades a second thought.
He’d also finally showed his parents his report cards, and while they were pissed at the school for treating Izuku in such a way, they listened to him when he asked them not to move him. It would cause more trouble than it was worth, and he wasn’t overly willing to be the new kid in another school that would be just like Aldera, anyways.
Plus, he liked going under the radar. It kept his name out of other people’s mouths, which is what he wanted to do. He wanted to be a hidden gem, the needle in a haystack that would be revealed only when the time was right.
Him, his father, and his mother had talked about when they’d reveal his identity, and they’d decided that Izuku’s involvement with IzuDori would be released during highschool – only if the opportunity arose. If not, he’d do it after he graduated, using his status as a Pro Hero to properly promote the company, and the quality of the gear and analysis they offered.
After all, a company that is trusted by its own creator who just wants to do good is best for everyone involved.
“When’s the release for the support gear? Everything is ready for release, we just need to announce it, and come up with a date,” Elliot rattled off, biting the edge of his pen as he flicked through numerous files on his desk.
“Since the analysis lines are both doing extremely well, we’ve had multiple blow-ups of our company social media pages, and we’ve had so many questions wondering when the ‘support’ part of the company name is coming into play,” Hisashi added, nodding along with Elliot. “If we want to release it, we have to do it soon.”
“You said everything was ready, Elliot?” Izuku asked, and as the support head nodded, Izuku continued. “Are they prepared to release everything in a week? How are the supplies looking?”
“We’ll probably need to order more of everything in bulk,” Elliot admitted. “Someone blew something up yesterday.”
“Was it Kaito?” Hisashi drawled, smirking as Elliot sighed, then nodded. “That boy is a chaotic addition to your team, I won’t lie.”
“He’s a nuisance on a good day,” Elliot grumbled.
“I’ll talk to him,” Izuku dismissed, smirking at the image of a literal twelve-year-old chewing out a twenty-five year old man. “So, we push the date back, and release the support gear in two weeks?”
“Sounds good! Are we releasing hero gear, or civilian gear first?” Elliot asked, writing down everything Izuku was saying hastily, not wanting to miss any vital information.
“I think just the hero gear first,” Izuku sighed, feeling disappointed in society. “We don’t know how the public will react to the gear yet, but starting with the hero support items will boost people's curiosity, and get people wondering about what else we can do, since we already do civilian analysis.”
“Good point, kiddo,” Hisashi praised, grinning as Izuku preened at the loving words his father had spoken. “Alright! In two weeks today, at twelve PM, IzuDori will release its hero support item range!”
“Sounds good! One more thing – are we taking requests?” Elliot asked, his pen poised in the air as he stared at Izuku intently.
“I want to say yes, but make sure the teams don’t overwork themselves by taking in too many requests,” Izuku answered. “If it’s too complicated, bargain with them, and give them a discount. If they don’t budge, push the date for finishing out and up the price a little.”
“Perfect!”
Izuku grinned as the three of them finished their meeting, and started talking about anything to do with IzuDori, and the company morale. Everyone working there had been seen smiling and happy, regardless of stress levels and their own personal workloads. He couldn’t be happier with what he had helped to build and create.
America wouldn’t know what hit them.
zudori @IzuDoriCo 5hrs
America! Are you ready?
2.9m replies 1.7m retweets 5.1m likes Share
↪ goddess @goddessamongmen 4hrs
omg they used proper punctuation…
597 replies 207 retweets 1.7k likes Share
↪ creationista @creatingeverything 3hrs
I’m so ready
103 replies 27 retweets 549 likes Share
Only one day after IzuDori’s hero support item line was released to the public, the company was hounded with requests and orders for support gear. Their social media had blown up after Izuku’s tweet, his cryptic message giving everyone who supported them the incentive to go hunting for what they wanted, following the company accounts in the process.
Their analysis lines had also gained a lot of traction, as well. Magicka had continued to sing their praises to anyone and everyone who asked about IzuDori – the hero had gotten his first support item free, for that – which in turn boosted the company even more.
Izuku was over the moon. He could see that the American hero society was reeling with their gear popping up all over the country, tackling their beliefs around support gear being for ‘weak’ heroes only. Magicka had risen to the top five, and proudly displayed one of the very first IzuDori multi-purpose items, one that was specially made with his quirk in mind.
Magicka’s quirk had also improved with leaps and bounds, as Izuku and Hisashi gave the man more analysis reports every time the hero had requested one. Most of their reports were through video call meetings, which made sense only due to the nature of the man's quirk.
A few other heroes had to be given their reports through a video call, and they all gaped and gasped as Izuku grinned through the screen. Nobody was prepared for a twelve-year-old to literally flip their world on its axis and tear their quirks apart like it was nothing, leaving them gobsmacked.
It was the most satisfying thing to both Izuku and Hisashi, and the former loved teasing his son for it. Izuku pretended to hate it every time, but really, he loved it, preening under the praise as his father acted as though he were the Virgin Mary.
Sure, all it did was boost his ego, but Izuku thought he deserved all the praise and ego-boosting words after the hell that was his average middle school day. While the bullying hadn’t improved, it hadn’t gotten much worse, either. He was still getting shoved around in the halls and such, but he didn’t end up in the hospital again, so he was counting it as a win.
He couldn’t wait for the company to start tackling world-wide issues, and for everyone to take note of the change he was trying to make, starting with the company's offerings. They were taking the industry apart from the inside out, changing society's views as they went.
Izuku was going to be the change the world so desperately needed, and he was so ready for the world to take note.
A month after their support gear release, heroes and civilians had been applying for and requesting analysis reports more often than not. It had gotten to the point where Izuku and Hisashi had hired another two teams of analysts, going through a gruelling interview process for each and every applicant.
And there were a lot of applicants. It took so long to get through everyone, but after three weeks of interviews, Hisashi and Izuku – who was present through a video call, muted, and sending his father questions and notes about every applicant – had found enough people to form two, highly skilled analysts to tackle the mass amounts of reports coming in.
Izuku was glad that, while his teachers hated his guts, they let him do relatively whatever he wanted in class. It meant he could sit in on the interviews during school hours, sending his dad texts through his laptop as he did so. Hisashi didn’t actually approve of that at all , but he then realised that Izuku was basically running the interviews through a screen, and promptly stopped teasing him about not paying attention in class.
He was smart enough to slack off, anyways.
They’d also promoted one person from each team to be the final say in their analysis reports, only sending Izuku and Hisashi the reports if the person in question was a complicated case, a top fifty hero, or someone who needed to be dealt with accordingly.
It was a system that worked incredibly well, and their business was gaining a whole lot of traction in the community…but Izuku wanted more. He needed more. He had so many ideas he could implement after he did a little more research that would make life for everybody involved. He wanted to be a hero to the masses, not just heroes and certain civilians.
So, he started doing more research. He would help everyone, no matter what the cost would be.
dorizu @IzuDoriCo 15hrs
CivilianSupport.PDF
EverydayApplications.PDF
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“Elliot, is the civilian support gear ready to be released? How’d the public react to the social media teaser? I didn’t get the chance to look through the millions of replies,” Izuku asked, twisting his hands together.
He kept anxiously looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, which meant he was almost thirteen. He was excited, of course, yet he also wanted to get some sleep before his mother came home from work, ‘woke him up’ to say happy birthday, and consequently spent the rest of the night on social media, or researching things when he couldn’t fall back asleep.
“The public reacted to the tweet with a mix of results, actually,” Elliot announced. “Almost everything was positive, and many were wondering why nobody had done something like this before. Of course, we got the odd negative comment from some nobody quirk supremacist, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“So what you’re saying is that we can release the support gear for civilians soon?” Izuku asked hopefully, stars dancing in his eyes.
“Give us a few weeks, and maybe another two teams of engineers for the support section, and you have a deal,” Elliot snarked, glancing toward Hisashi with a pointed look.
“Yeah, we should probably hire more people before all of the requests and orders come in this time,” Hisashi mused, shooting Elliot an apologetic look. The man, who was head of support, had ended up helping out almost all of the analysis teams as they hired more people, due to there being so many requests. Luckily, Elliot had a background with analysis, and was able to lend a helping hand whenever he could.
“Oh joy, more interviews,” Izuku groaned, putting his head in his hands as his father laughed at him.
“Come on, kiddo! You loved doing it!”
“No, I loved judging the shitty applicants instead of focusing on school. It just took so fucking long to do!” Izuku moaned, glaring at his father as he chastised him for his language.
Like, come on, Izuku was around ten minutes away from being a teenager, and he shared a class with Bakugou. He was going to learn all of the world's curses before he turned fifteen, whether his father liked it or not.
“That’s…very fair, alright,” Hisashi admitted, shaking his head as Izuku sent him a satisfied smirk.
“Getting back on track,” Elliot interrupted, “we need more employees in the support department, and we need to order a bunch of supplies in bulk, but within the month, we should be able to release our civilian support gear to all of America.”
Izuku was ecstatic. He had been waiting for this day since the company had actually opened, and it was finally here. He could finally show the world that their support gear could benefit anyone and everyone. It was exciting, and worth the wait.
“Perfect!” Izuku cheered. “When do you want me to tease it on social media?”
“In three weeks, or once you’ve got all of the staff,” Elliot replied, Hisashi nodding along with his words.
“Sweet, can do!”
“Awesome, is that everything?” Hisashi asked, sounding uncharacteristically impatient.
“Yep! I’ll leave you alone now, Hisashi, don’t panic!” Elliot grinned, walking out of the room.
“Hey bud, is your mother home?” his father asked, and as Izuku was about to reply ‘no,’ she walked into the room.
“I am now! Hey hun,” Inko greeted, sitting down next to Izuku.
“Perfect! First things first, it’s midnight for you now, so. Happy birthday, Izu,” Hisashi said, speaking softly at the end and smiling at his son, tears forming.
Izuku grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”
Inko, of course, immediately started crying, which then made Hisashi start crying, and in turn, Izuku started crying. Cursing out the Midoriya family cry-gene, Izuku got himself under control, lightly tapping his mothers wrist to get her to calm down as well. He wasn’t even going to bother with his father, because it wasn’t like he could calm him down through a screen.
“My baby is thirteen!” Inko cried, red-rimmed eyes sparkling with hope and pride.
“Yeah, and I was twelve five minutes ago,” Izuku deadpanned, though he gave his mother a hug when she pouted at him.
“Alright, kiddo, I’m good. So! Want to know what your birthday present is?” Hisashi asked, a glint in his eyes as he looked at Izuku through the screen.
“Sure! I’m scared, though – that look in your eye means trouble,” Izuku joked.
“Alright. My love, Izu, both of you check your emails…now!”
Inko and Izuku whipped their phones out as their inboxes gained a new email each. They both gasped at the same time as they read the message forwarded to the both of them.
“You’re coming to Japan?” Izuku shrieked, tears brimming in his eyes as he gaped at his father, who was now laughing at his family's reaction.
“Hell yeah, kiddo! I want to see my family! And…I do have another reason for coming to Japan. It’s good, I promise!”
“Wait!” Inko gasped, finally looking up from her phone. “Did you…”
“I did,” Hisashi confirmed. “Izu?”
“Oh no…yeah?” he replied, anxiously glancing between his parents.
“How would you feel about opening a Japanese branch for IzuDori?”
A few seconds passed. Izuku was gaping at his parents, his mind drawing blank after blank as he continued to stare at his father through the screen. A Japanese branch…no fucking way. No fucking way!
“Yes!”