Chapter Text
Aizawa Shota sat at the detective’s desk with a raised eyebrow as a file was plopped onto the space in front of him. Tsukauchi walked back to his own side of the table and sat into his own chair with a sigh. Shota’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion as his fingers brushed the oddly thin file. He gave into his curiosities and opened the file, finding only two photos. One of which seemed to be a screenshot of complex code typed out, on top was a pop up with various warnings, most had the words ‘Access Breached’ written all over them. The second item in the folder was an extremely blurry image of a building taken from the ground on the inside of an alleyway. It was dark out, and the little light in the image came from a far away streetlight. On the edge of the building was half the back and a bright red sneaker of an unidentified individual.
“And this is the evidence I was waiting all week for?” Shota raised an eyebrow, glancing away from the evidence and up towards the police officer.
“Look. This one’s extremely careful with sightings. We had to make an entire bank robbery set-up just to get a picture of ‘em. Not to mention we have no idea what their quirk is. If used improperly, this can get extremely out of hand. We’ve barely even been able to pick up on his gender. Luckily most of our witnesses slipped when referring to him though… the only people who have had close interactions were myself, the criminals, and the victims. As you know, vigilantism is not overly uncommon, but most of which are premature and easily caught. We have absolutely no idea what his next move is. He’s busted about five drug exchanges in the last week. We’re also not even counting any petty crimes as we don’t even know the amount he’s been involved in. It could range from five to fifty depending on the day.” Tsukauchi concluded his thorough explanation with a huff, as his eyes wandered to the picture of a single red shoe. Mid-jump from building to building.
“So I can assume you want him in custody as soon as possible, right?” Aizawa questioned. The officer nodded.
“So far, he’s had no real criminal offenses other than vigilantism, battery, and probable hacking- again no proof. It’s difficult especially considering we have no idea what his quirk is.” At the last sentence, the Underground Hero’s head shoots up from the papers.
“What do you mean you have no idea what his quirk is?” He practically snarled out.
“He typically gets the job done so quickly and efficiently that he’s gone before we arrive. We didn’t even know he existed until the criminals he captured ratted him out. Strangely enough they seemed reluctant to do so…” The officer trailed off in thought.
“So it’s entirely possible that he’s got a non-physical quirk? Emitter type?” Aizawa asked.
“Well… there’s another thing. If that was the case, the villains wouldn’t be so battered after we find them…” Tsukauchi explained. The hero nodded and picked up the case file after giving the half-silhouette another once over.
“I wish you luck… who knows what he can do.” The detective followed the hero to the door. Shota merely nodded sharply before exiting the office and the station all together.
A hooded figure jogs between alleys, clearly in a rush. He pulls out a phone so cracked that it barely produces any light. As his eyes dart to the time, he begins to let out a string of curse words, picking up his pace. He leapt across the alleys, maneuvering between elaborate parkour flips and acrobatics, continuing his haste until he approached a seemingly random alley and jumped. He wasn’t too far into the downtown area meaning that the buildings were an easy drop. Regardless, he sprung off the sides and got to the ground within 3 jumps. After sprinting between a few other alleys, he managed to make it to a large semi-abandoned building. As in, it was supposed to be abandoned. The hooded figure took a few steps backwards before hopping over leaping over the barbed wire fence. He once again checked his batshit beaten phone before casually walking into the building.
Jonathan Exavian was from America. He had just gotten a huge order of Trigger. People were buzzing about his new and improved drug. He knew he’d go down in history as the man who figured out how to mass produce it. Even if the hero’s refused to touch the stuff, he’d get there. Everyone would need it. For now, he would continue his smaller deliveries with employees and his larger deliveries with himself. This would be the next big step. He was meeting up with a large gang in Japan. It took some money to get here with the cargo, but he knew that he’d get it back. For the sake of secrecy, everyone in the sketchy building was nameless. He didn’t know who he was dealing with either. All he knew was that this was his big break.
Jonathan was in the middle of a handshake and the pass of a brief case before the door busted open, revealing a figure on the smaller side. The person had a simple face mask and goggles over his eyes. He was also wearing a black tight suit with a black hoodie tied around his waist. He had various tools strapped to a belt and harness. A bō staff extended with a sharp slice beside him.
“Hello, boys!” The figure exclaimed. A voice changer covered whatever his true voice sounded like.
“IT'S A BUST!” Another voice from the opposing side of the exchange shouted. The unidentified figure waited until everything erupted into chaos itself before actually stepping in. Well, in actuality all the man had to do was blink before the figure was gone.
“WHERE’D HE GO?” Another voice shouted. Jonathan panicked. He ran.
If someone were to count the steps he took, the man would’ve taken exactly two before everything went black.
“119, what’s your emergency?”
“Hi, do you have Tsukauchi over there?”
“If this is a prank call, you can go ahead and hang up.” The voice immediately deadpanned.
“Yeah, I got a huge Trigger bust over here and where’s Tsukauchi?”
“Trigger? This really is a serious topic-“
“Yeah just get some of your fuzz over here in like 5. I don’t know if they’re gonna stay out for long and one of them has this quirk with knives…? So like- I’d hurry.” The officer on the other end briefly sighed before there was some sort of ruckus on the other side of the phone. Another voice joined the conversation.
“Who is that?”
“I don’t know. Some prank caller. Talking about Trigger.” The other voice groaned before he was the one operating the phone call.
“Vigilante.” The voice huffed.
“Tsukauchi! I just knew you’d make it!” The voice-changed voice cheered.
“Where are you?” Tsukauchi asked blatantly.
“You know that warehouse off the side of Tsuya-Sa Street?”
“There? Wasn’t it set for destruction last week?”
“Apparently not there were these plans but they were faked and I found the real ones- It was labled as destruction but in actuality its not to destroy for another three month, there is this underground guy I’ll have more information on him soon, he keeps making fake documents-” The supposed vigilante broke into a spur of uncatchable mutters before stopping themself, “Anyway- hurry. There’s a knife guy and I don’t know how long he’s gonna stay down.”
“Don’t you want to stay and give us a witness statement?” Tsukauchi asked, attempting to sound inviting, as if he wouldn’t throw him into the back of the car regardless of his statement.
“Yeah, no. I’m good. Busy.” The line was cut.
The detective sighed and looked at the responder, stepping back from the other’s workspace.
“Get a unit over to Tsuya-Sa. I’m coming with.” Tsukauchi walked away- the operator could almost say he was stomping.
The vigilante hissed as he poked at the wound. One of the men in the warehouse managed to get a shot on him. As shitty as it was, Izuku told himself it could have been much worse- which was very much true. The bullet only barely grazed his shoulder, but it still hurt pretty badly.
“How rude is that…?” Izuku muttered to himself as he cleaned the wound while sitting on the top of a building with his medkit. He found himself in a generally safe area from any villains and heroes. As a child, he shared a dream with Kacchan of being the Number One Hero. That whim has all burned and died with his current life. At least he’s not a full-fledged villain. He hasn't gotten a name. There have been too many suggestions and self-dubs by citizens that he just goes by ‘that vigilante’ at this point. Whether or not it’s out of fondness or distaste, Izuku couldn’t care less. He didn’t want the publicity anyway.
Of course, the universe chooses to be a cruel joke anyway and makes Midoriya the newest internet sensation. Somehow the public manages even without any pictures. However, the vigilante can’t play entirely innocent as he has multiple social media accounts for the sake of slandering your average local authority. He also often gets into these Twitter debates with other heros. His favorite victim to torment is Hawks. While he does make for fantastic banter, it’s best to stay behind the safety of his laptop. He doesn’t exactly know what lead to another, but something happened where Hawks figured out what his occupation was. He was lucky the hero didn’t care enough to try and capture him.
Midoriya huffed as he finished patching up his arm and replaced his jacket over his arms. He took a moment to glare at the tear in the fabric. He decided that he needed another pocket for more weapons anyway. He’s been on his own for about five years.
It was supposed to be a short trip to America with his father.
It was supposed to be one where she came back.
It was three weeks after she left when he found out about the fire.
It was at least a year when he realized she wasn’t coming back.
Izuku began once again running among the rooftops. It felt nice to finally cut that Trigger case to a close. The increased Trigger usages have been proved to be a serious pain for the vigilante. Now that he’s caught the supplier, he can hopefully take a night or two to finish up breaking into those files at the police station. They changed the cybersecurity-everything after last time. How annoying.
His patrol ended just as the sun was coming up. He managed to stop a few small-scale bank robberies and assaults in back-alleys. The rest of his night was rather lenient on him- as boring as it was. For the fuck of it, Izuku decided he’d post something on his instagram. He looked over the quick picture he took of the defeated villains after they were apprehended. His photography skills are trash, but it does good when you’re bored but also don’t want to risk direct evidence. Obviously he moved far away before he posted it. He sat on the edge of the building and laid back as he scrolled through his busted janky-ass phone.
‘Reminder: Don’t shoot people ;)’
Aizawa looked unimpressed at the cracked and blurry picture being shown to him by the detective.
“So… he has a social media…?”
“Yeah… never actually posts pictures of himself. Mainly random pictures and stuff like this that’s so damn blurry that only people who know what it is can really decipher anything.” The officer huffed. Shouta opened his mouth to comment before the officer added, “And no. We can’t track his IP. This criminal has every encryption in the book. His phone might as well have been made before the age of quirks.” The underground hero hummed in acknowledgment.
“Better than the two damn near useless hunks of evidence I guess…” the hobo said, as enthusiastic as ever. Tsukauchi rose an unamused eyebrow at the constant annoyed comments from the hero. He glanced over at the thugs currently being apprehended. They were yelling something about a bō staff as they wrestled their ways to a containment vehicle. The law enforcement has been looking for this gang for a long time. Luckily for them, this Trigger supplier from America was also among those caught. He went quieter than expected. Almost like he’d given up. Like he knew he never had a chance.
Well, Aizawa knew he had one and he wasn’t going to waste it. Based on what the captured crimminals were spewing, the vigilante probably had a pretty basic enhancement quirk. That or a stealth quirk… or a teleportation quirk. The supplier of the whole ordeal was from America. Based on his description, this wasn’t just any vigilante. How could someone disappear within a blink… definitely teleportation…
Izuku was running… running from… running from everything. Running from Kacchan, running from his past, running from the jerk that keeps following him around.
It started at about midnight. The vigilante had felt eyes burning into the back of his head. Even when he tried losing them, there was always a scream or cry for help, a hand reaching out that couldn’t be ignored. As big of a mistake it was, Izuku couldn’t force himself not to help. He continued trying to lose the eyes scraping through the back of his hood, but no matter what he did, the constant heebie-jeebies continued to crawl up his spine. Just as soon as he thought he lost the eyes he felt them again. By now, Izuku was just finishing with his night shift and was getting pretty damn sick of this. He just wanted to go home. But he couldn’t go home until this guy got off his back. It was only when the sun came up could Izuku stop aimlessly walking around
He didn’t go away until daybreak, which left Izuku aimlessly wandering the streets until he’d arrived back at his abandoned apartment. He attempted to look into the building’s history at some point, but the task was neglected when he finally caught a lead on some villain he had already caught many moons ago. He probably should look into it at some point as it would be his typical ‘Deku’ luck to find the apartments happen to have some sort of death mold that would kill him within the next three months.
The vigilante held his chin as he muttered, walking along the alleys. He’d like to walk in the streets to see the sunrise, but atlas, walking among civilians required his ‘civilian cloths’. (However, even those didn’t count for much as he still got awkward glances and ‘hobo’ comments. He’s even been offered hand-outs. He can’t say that he didn't take them though).
There was a call for help.
Izuku perked up on instinct. He looked at the sky and gauged his time. He bounced on his heels anxiously, teetering from one direction to the other for only a moment until he gave in and ran. The vigilante expertly weaved through the alleys before he stopped on his heels. He arrived at a dead-end of an alleyway. Inside Izuku found… nothing.
Oh fuck.
Izuku turned on his heel to immediately leave before he was suddenly tackled to the ground.
“Gotcha.”