Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Manual drafted me. I'll choose him so I can watch over Iida-kun," Shinra told Katsuki the day after they created the name for their hero career—Izuku decided to call himself 'Mask' (honestly, he couldn't find anything less banal, this nerd)—expression tight and lips thinned. Something that he never sees in the usually-cheerful personality. His apricot orbs flitted to the despondent Megane as he whispered, "something bad is going to happen. So please, stay alert. I may need your help when the situation get out of hand."

Katsuki's teeth gnashed as he ran with all his might, following the direction Google Maps had provided with intense scrutiny. He was in the middle of Best Jeanist debriefing, was waiting for his unruly hair to be styled—something he was so not looking forward to—when his phone vibrated. Warning bell instantly rang at the back of his head and, ignoring the Pro Hero admonishing stare, he opened the message. It only contained an unfamiliar address. But one look at the sender and it sent Katsuki flying. He was sure Best Jeanist was calling for him to go back. And he was sure he answered his order with something akin to 'my friend is going to fucking kill himself'. Something within that line. Anyway, that blasé answer caused the Pro Hero to stiffen. And the man decided to follow him; after he told the other attendee to stay put. Katsuki wanted to smack himself for unintentionally inviting one other person to this suicide mission, though he reasoned that Best Jeanist is not a pro hero for nothing. More people mean more chance in winning and turning this situation around. He just hoped that he was not too late—Manual Office is not exactly Genius Office's nearest neighbor after all. Katsuki literally jumped to the roof of the speeding train for a quick depart, by using the steady blast of his exploding Quirk. Best Jeanist sputtered—destroying the rampaging Nomus and helping civilians to escape—

When he finally arrived at the supposed battlefield, the explosive boy abruptly stopped as a blur suddenly appeared from the gap between the two buildings. It zoomed before it crashed, showing them a man with a misshapen face and red scarf fluttering by the breeze. It was Stain, the Hero Serial Killer.

Fuck. Shinra's intuition turned out to be right! That stupid Megane chose this workplace for the sake of avenging his brother.

Before he could take another step, another blur came out. It was the distinctive green blur he knew so well. Accompanied by another ray of green that Katsuki usually saw whenever Zuku turns the sword mode on, trailing after him like a wavy line of a shining beacon. Stain dodged-roll to the side as that blur stopped abruptly, doing a beautiful cartwheel in midair with the retractable blade swinging down, what the fuck? It was like watching those samurai in those old Japanese movies. Zuku and Stain, clashing their deadly weapon in this deadly dance. But since when did his childhood friend learn this awesome moves? Sloppy, sure. Because, Katsuki realized now that he had watched the onslaught for a full minute, that Zuku's attacks should've been paired with a katana as his weapon and not a normal sword. Yet, still solid enough for him to go toe to toe with the villain.

Best Jeanist asked him and Shoto—who he didn't realize was also there—to tend for the injured Native and Iida. The Pro Hero started unraveling the threads he had on his person so he could restrain Stain. He was a bit too late though. Because Zuku, after slashing the weapon low, right near the abdomen and causing Stain to evade by jumping upward, the green boy reared himself back, sword away and—

DUAK

Rammed him right on his forehead, Katsuki was sure he just heard something crack. Oof.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow...I need to train my forehead from now on if I want to keep using this as my alternative attack..." Zuku grumbled as he stood up, cradling his bruised forehead while he swayed a bit. Nerd scowled at the killer who was now tied up by the invisible strings of Best Jeanist. The man was most likely concussed, yet awake enough for him to hear whatever the green-haired teen was saying, "I understand your sentiment, Stain-san. But see. This is where you're wrong. In this day of age, Pro Hero is nothing but a profession. As long as they're not doing something illegal like hiring the bad guy to create a ruckus so they could swipe in to save the day, as long as they're doing their job by the book, you cannot judge their intention with that bias perspective of yours."

Zuku's burgundy eyes blazed with determination. He never sees that color before. Is it Zuku's new personality?

"Do you know…that your hero was the one who crushed my dream?" Stain unseeing eyes suddenly sharpened. Without having to utter the name, the villain knew who it is that Zuku(?) was talking about. And Katsuki also knew. As there's only one person. One hero who doubted the nerd's power, "he said my Quirk is not suitable for hero work. So he told me to pursue other jobs that are safer for someone like me. Honestly, it…hurt. To hear that word from someone I idolized in all of my life."

"That's why I want to be a hero," he declared, "it's petty and childish. And in your perspective, I should not become a hero at all. But I want to give hope. To those who were powerless. Just like what Eraserhead did to me, unknowing that he was. Because Eraserhead may have a quirk, but he still fought the fight practically Quirkless. And that goes for my power too. It doesn't change my appearance. Nor it enhances my strength. My Quirk only give me a boost in confidence and the rest? I have to figure it out myself."

"In the end, the definition of a hero is something we have to decide ourselves," Zuku(?) turned off the weapon, loosely gripping the handle inside his clammy hand, "rather than obsessing over one, single ideology, I suggest you to broaden your 'criteria'. When you do, you'll realize that your hero," he took a glance at the explosive boy, Katsuki's eyebrows rose, "is actually nearer than you ever think."

Did…Zuku just implied that I'm his hero? He balked. But why? You didn't even need my help in fighting that Mouth Freak.

(After this whole ordeal dwindled down and they have spare time to kill before their next internship, Zuku then will tell him the reason why. With a face as bright as a tomato, he said. Because Katsuki was the only one who believed in him. Where even his own mother held that tiny sliver of doubt, Katsuki was not. He honestly, whole-heartedly, believed in him)

(That, in itself, is good enough)

A siren could be heard from the distance ruckus. And the prison truck had finally arrived. Best Jeanist hauled Stain up from the ground and practically shoved him inside. Before the truck departed, however, Stain spoke. Exhausted and still in shock. Still couldn't believe someone as awesome as All Might had tried to break this kid apart, "brat…what's your name?"

"I usually go by Midoriya Izuku," he smiled, burgundy orbs now shone with kindness. Katsuki didn't know how. But he got this fuzzy feeling from this new personality. Of someone nice and caring (like a protective, older brother—IcyHot described the swordsman, as he told Katsuki what had happened at Hosu City—fussing over the wounded Shoto and scolding over Iida's recklessness), "but today, I'm Kamado Tanjiro. Nice to meet you, Stain-san."

KAMADO TANJIRO

Eye Color: Burgundy

Specialty: Home ec and Physical Education

Like: Simple onigiri and smoke fish

Dislikes: Bitter tea

Ability: Middle to Long range. Prefer to use a katana. But can use a dagger if he has to. Recommended for stalling time, as he usually strikes a conversation with the enemy just because.

Warning: He usually attacks with his forehead whenever the enemy was too close for his comfort. Stay away from him at all cost.