Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It should be raining. Izuku thought, watching quietly as his mother, his only family, was laid to rest. Today is the day the sky should be crying, crying all the tears that have dried up in his eyes. Its almost a miracle that he isn’t crying, but his face remains dry. His whole body feels dry, like a piece of seaweed stuck to the side of a pier. Dried up from the burning sun, ready to flake away into nothing at the slightest touch.

Thankfully there is no one to give him that touch, to give him the hug he so badly needs. The funeral is one put on by the government, a paltry thing that involved only the priest, social worker, and Izuku himself. None of his mothers friends are there, none of her coworkers. Midoriya Inko does not get buried surrounded by loved ones, no. The only difference between her burial and her death is that her son is there this time. No matter how much Izuku had begged, cried, pleaded with the social worker he had not been allowed to see her in the hospital. They had told him she was too damaged, that there was nothing he could do to help.

They didn’t know how wrong they were.

The flashing ambulance lights were barely noticed by Midoriya Izuku, his attention more on jumping away from the puddle splash the vehicle had caused. With the way the rain had been coming down for the past few days the puddles were quite large and Izuku was already soaked. His umbrella, broken in a couple places from where it had been hit against his body, didn’t do much to protect him from the rain anymore. The boy prioritized keeping his backpack and precious belongings inside dry over himself, he would be taking a shower once he got home anyways. Only a couple more blocks of walking and he could be dry.

Izuku saw the police tape past his building, giving his door a look before wandering closer. Maybe it was a villain! But no, there was a tow truck pulling a car away from one of the power poles, some dark muddy water swirling down to the drain, and a small group of police officers and firefighters milling around. Slightly grateful, Izuku really didn’t want to pull out his notebook in this rain, he turned and made his way back to his building. It didn’t more than a few minutes of fiddling to get his key out, his umbrella closed, and himself in the foyer. Izuku raced up the stairs, leaving little puddles on every step to the top floor.

He paused on his way out of the stairwell, warily watching the two men standing in front of his apartment door. They hadn’t noticed him yet, the man closest to him knocking on the door again while the other fiddled with his phone. Izuku wasn’t getting any bad vibes from them, but the ever present anxiety in his stomach swirled a bit more violently. There was something he was missing, something skating by that his brain resolutely ignored, but without more puzzle pieces the boy couldn’t put it together. Gathering his courage Izuku finally left the stairwell, letting his feet hit the ground a bit harder to make his presence known. It worked, both men turning to look at him.

“Midoriya Izuku?” The closer man asked, his voice cautious and measured. It almost reminded Izuku of someone talking to a scared animal. He didn’t like that. There was no visible sign of a quirk for the man, no mutations to give Izuku a hint.

“M-Maybe. Who’s asking?” With all the alarm bells ringing in his head Izuku didn’t move more than a couple steps from the stairwell. It was a viable escape route, but he also didn’t want to leave without knowing why the men were here. Especially since his mother was due home any time now.

“Ah, my apologies. I’m officer Kuroki, this is my partner officer Miyajima. We need to speak with you.” The second man spoke up, turning his body to face Izuku. Unlike the first man, officer Kuroki did have some physical signs of his quirk. A pair of rams like horns on the side of his head, and his eyes had oddly square horizontal pupils. Animal mutation quirk then, Izuku mused, sheep or goat of some type. His hair did look a bit wooly too, though it was hard to tell with how rain soaked it was.

Shaking his hands slightly, focus Izuku, the young boy nodded warily and walked to his door at last. Now that he was a bit closer he noticed their uniforms hidden under their jackets, badges hanging from chains around their necks. Trying to calm himself, willing the shaking in his hands to be only from the chill of rain and not nerves, Izuku unlocked his door and led the way inside.

“Please come in then. M-My mother should be home any moment. Would you like some tea while we wait?” Toeing off his shoes, Izuku grabbed the guest slippers from the closet and put them down before making his way to the kitchen. The curtesy of serving tea to guests an ingrained response, and he knew the ritual of making the drinks would help calm him. And maybe buy him time for his mother to get here.

Izuku let his soggy bangs cover his face as he watched the officers through his lashes. They shared an awkward look before making their way to the dining table, taking a look around the apartment with polite interest. Officer Kuroki once again looked at his phone, probably received a text, before showing the device to Officer Miyajima. Neither man said anything while they sat, patiently waiting while Izuku fixed up the tea tray and brought it over. Once all three cups were poured out and doctored to their drinkers liking Izuku made an effort of eye contact again.

“Would either of you like a towel to dry off while we wait for my mother?” Another odd, awkward look was shared at Izukus offer, and the boy could feel his heartrate pick up. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Izuku felt a pressure building up in the room, an oppressive atmosphere growing. Mom should be home by now.

“Thats not necessary, but thank you. Actually, we’re here to talk to you about your mother.” Officer Miyajima was tense but kind, painfully kind. The type of kind that proceeds bad news, Izuku knew this, and he felt his breathing pick up while part of his mind started to pull away. He didn’t want them here anymore, he wanted them to leave. He wanted his mother, where was his mom?

“Your mother has been in an accident. With how the rain has slicked the roads, a man lost control of his car. Your mother is on the way to the hospital.” Miyajima, he can’t be an officer he has to be lying he has to, continues on, but Izuku is barely listening. Flashes of memories flit by his eyes, bright and fresh. He dodged the puddle splash, he gawked at the police tape, he watched the muddy, bloody bloody it was blood not oil not mud it was blood, his mothers blood, water swirl down the drain.

“B-b-b-but she’ll be okay r-r-right? She-she-she-she-she has to be oh-okay.” The stutter he’d worked so hard on getting rid of reared its ugly head as Izuku tried to find his breath. This couldn’t be happening, it was supposed to be a good day! Kaachan and his friends hadn’t needed much ‘help’ practicing their quirks, Onera-sensei had accepted his purposefully imperfect worksheet with barely a sneer, his mother had promised omurice for dinner tonight even! Lost in his panicking thoughts Izuku didn’t notice the knock on the door, or Officer Kuroki getting up to let a woman into the apartment. He flinched quite drastically when she tried to put her hand on his.

“Midoriya-kun, my name is Fujimori Mayu. I’m the social worker assigned to your case. We need to talk about your guardianship and where you’ll be going.” She seemed kind, if a bit tired. Like she’d had this conversation so many times before. Izuku didn’t like that, and he didn’t like the almost sweet tone of voice she used. A tone people used when talking a toddler out of a tantrum.

“I-I-I don’t understand. I’m 12, I can-can-can-can stay here while mom-mom-mom gets better.” He’s done it before, stayed home alone while his mom worked. He can cook for himself, knows how to keep the house clean, and really can take care of himself for days at a time. Because of his moms schedule at work they’ve often lived in parallel, her asleep while he’s at school, then him asleep while she’s at work. Two planets orbiting around the same point at different speeds, only meeting for brief periods before going their separate ways.

“Midoriya-kun, with the extent of her injuries we need to be focused on more…” A slight hesitation, enough for Izukus shoulders to hunch up to his ears. Maybe his he could cover them, if he didn’t hear what she was saying, it wouldn’t be true. “Long-term plans. For now, you need to pack a bag. The essentials, enough clothes to last a week, your uniform. Think of it like camping!” Fujimori and her false cheer barely mask the pity Izuku can feel radiating off her, but its not really a focused pity. It’s more like the pity one feels at those overly dramatic commercials of starving children in a far away country or injured puppies or some other terrible but distant tragedy.

That’s almost exactly how Izuku is feeling right now. A distant tragedy, watching from behind a screen as his life implodes. He knows he should be saying something, knows he should be doing something, but his body is simply distant. So instead of crying or begging the officers to say this is all a big misunderstanding, Izuku nods his head and gets up. His backpack is left by the door and he goes to his room, grabbing his gym duffle from his closet. He doesn’t think about why he’s packing it, doesn’t think about where he’s going to be bringing it. He just focuses on filling it.

A few t-shirts, the ones that had English words on them like ‘PANTS’ or ‘HELMET’ that he found so hilarious and his mother humoured. His only two pairs of jeans, the black pair with almost more holes than denim at this point but so soft from being washed and his blue pair that was only bought a month ago. His favorite pair of sweat pants, a custom made hero-merch that had whips going lengthwise down the legs, looking like vines more than a heroines weapon. His favorite All Might shirt, the one that was four sizes too large and he wore as pajamas. Almost a nightgown on him, but he loved it. Another school uniform was folded and carefully put in, chosen because it had the least amount of burns or holes in it. His underwear and socks, all hero merch and probably embarrassing, were shoved in underneath his clothes.

Once his clothes were in, Izuku took a moment to look around the room and decide what else he needed. Not the posters or the figures, he wouldn’t want to damage them and they’d be waiting for him when he came home. When, not if. The hero analysis notebooks though, those were all grabbed and put in. It was a bit tough getting 10 notebooks in the side pocket, but he managed. With a quick thought he also grabbed his laptop, charger, and phone charger and threw those in. A towel, just in case. His toothbrush and other bathroom necessities. The house slippers he had on his feet, he could go in socks for a bit. His All Might plus, the one in the silver era costume that his mother had waiting in line with him for 6 hours to get, he needed that.

Duffel bag full, Izuku stopped and stared at his room before heading into his mothers. He didn’t want to take anything she’d need when she came home, just in case. But he wanted something of hers. Just in case. So he grabbed the sweater she’d had laid out on the bed, a lovely pink knit one that she wore often. He also grabbed her perfume bottle off her dresser, gave himself a small spray, before tucking that into his bag. There was a picture on the nightstand, of the two of them together at some park. Izuku couldn’t remember the story behind it right now. It showed them both beaming at the camera, his mothers arm around his shoulders and Izukus arms wrapped around her waist. Izuku grabbed that and tucked it into one of his shirts.

Izuku hadn’t noticed the social worker following him from room to room, nodding to herself as he packed sensibly. He hadn’t noticed the police officers silently leaving the apartment either. It was almost a shock when he entered the living room and saw Fujimori standing by the door. Obviously she was tired of waiting for him. Izuku rushed to get his shoes on, grab his leather Present Mic replica jacket from the closet, throw his backpack on and then get the strap of his duffel over his shoulder. With a pleased nod, Fujimori led him from his apartment and into the unknown.

Chapter Text

When Izuku first found his quirk he was ecstatic. Maybe the way he found out wasn’t the best, being six years old and pushed off the play structure by Kacchan, hearing and feeling his wrist snap as he tried to cushion his fall. It was his fault, he was a deku afterall. If he hadn’t been bothering the other kids so much, if he had been paying attention more and gotten out of their way like he was supposed to, Kacchan wouldn’t have pushed him. Probably. The sound of Rokuro-kun and Akira-kun laughing along with Kacchan while Izuku cradled his hurt wrist was a bit mean, but nothing out of the ordinary for him.

It was two years past when he was supposed to have a quirk, and when nothing had manifested his world had slowly changed. His very best friend in the entire world slowly drifted away, angry that his future hero partner had no quirk and would be useless to him. Things like name calling and light shoving became the new normal, but it was okay because Izuku knew it was his fault and that Kacchan was being nice by noticing him at all. Well, that’s what the teachers said at least. The push from the top of the play structure was new, but not completely unexpected. Rokuro-kun had big wings after all, he needed more space.

Holding his injured wrist to his chest and ignoring the laughing jeers of his classmates, Izuku made his way over to the small copse of trees along the fence line. Oddly enough, even though Izuku could have sworn his wrist had been broken catching his fall it didn’t hurt as much as it did before. Like it was slowly going numb. Once he found a nice shady spot to sit in, hidden from sight of most other kids on the playground, Izuku held out his wrist for a better look. It wasn’t as swollen as he expected it to be, but was still warmer than usual. Actually, that warmth seemed to be winding through his body. It started in his chest, deep inside nestled along his heart, and then wound its way down his injured limb. Now that Izuku had noticed it the warmth seemed to pick up, frolicking like a happy puppy under its owner's gaze before speeding towards the injury.

Izuku watched, though he wasn’t sure if one could watch something that was being felt internally. Still, he watched as the energy pulsed down his arm and wrapped gently around his wrist, soothing it. He could feel the bone move back into place, that hurts a lot, but the energy slowly sank into the bones and leeched the pain away. It took the rest of lunch recess for the pain to recede to a dull throb and by the end of the school day he couldn’t even tell it had been hurt anymore. Equally, any other bruises he’d gotten from his classmates roughhousing were mostly faded by the time he got home, and were completely gone by the time his mother did. Which was good, he didn’t want to risk her seeing them.

It took another few weeks of small injuries healing themselves before Izuku realized that he was healing them faster than his peers did. A bruise he’d seen on Ayame-chan’s leg took nearly a whole week to fade, but the one Akira-kun had given Izuku one morning was gone before the class had even been released for lunch. After being quirkless for so long Izuku almost didn’t connect the dots between his faster healing time to being a quirk. It wasn’t until nearly three months after he’d first noticed his healing energy when another classmate, Saburou-kun, broke his wrist during gym class and came back the next day with a cast on it. Telling the class he’d have it on for two whole months. That was when Izuku realized it must be a quirk, his quirk!, and he raced home to tell his mother the good news.

Maybe, if Midoriya Hisashi hadn’t abandoned his small family when Izuku failed to show a quirk at age four, maybe this would have been the thing that earned Izuku one of the man's rare smiles and even rarer hugs. Maybe he would have been picked up, swung around in a joyous circle like he’d seen happen to his classmates. Instead Izuku only had his mother, and Midoriya Inko was always very free with the affection she gave her son even with the longer and longer hours her job gave her. So instead of having her waiting for Izuku when he got home, he was often the one waiting. That’s okay though, he was almost seven! He knew how to use his key to get in, knew where to hang up his coat and put his shoes, and how to get himself a snack for working on his homework. Usually he didn’t rush home quite as fast, since he knew it would be a couple hours at least until his mother got home, but today his excitement wouldn’t allow anything else.

He was still a good boy though, so Izuku went through all the motions he usually did when arriving home before pulling out his homework and sitting down at the table. He’d grabbed a glass of milk and some cookies, not a snack he usually had but one he thought was warranted with his amazing news. It was hard to focus on his math and not on the clock, the simplicity of the problems not helping. Izuku was teaching himself multiplication and division already, the simple addition work he’d been given today was, in his mind, childish. He wished it was harder, was something that would have taken more of his time and attention, but instead he finished in under ten minutes. His home reading work was even faster, the picture book had barely a hundred words!

A glance at the clock showed that the march of time did not care for one little boys wishes, and he still had an hour and a half at least until he could share his news. His katsudon worthy news, he was sure. So Izuku did what he always did when he had time to spare, pulled out his analysis notebook, hopped onto his computer, and with a few deft clicks had the days hero news pulled up. He could spend hours, days even, watching hero footage. Today there weren’t any new heroes fighting, no new debuts. Still, he got to see a quick battle between Present Mic and some villian with some type of metal bending quirk. Too bad the metal he wrapped himself with was such a good conductor of sound, one shout from Mic and the vibrations had the poor villain knocked out.

In what seemed like both forever and no time at all, once Izuku managed to distract himself, the rattle of the doorknob and the soft call of his mother announcing her arrival snapped the young child out of his trance and sent him speeding to the door.

“Mama! Mama mama mama mama! I got my quirk!” His shouts preceded him, the urgency of the calls giving Inko a slight panic as she rushed towards her baby before the words finally caught up to her.

“Izu, what?” It didn’t make sense to her, the doctor had been very firm in his quirkless diagnosis. That was a word she hated, diagnosis. Like being quirkless was a disease or an illness, and not just something that her baby didn’t have.

“My quirk mama! I noticed a while ago but I didn’t think it was a quirk, cause the doctor said I would never have one, but it’s gotta be a quirk cause no one else in my class can and they all have such amazing quirks so this must be a quirk too!” A deep gasping breath cut off the boys ramblings, and he was prepared to continue with more when his mother cut him off.

“Izu baby, what quirk?” Inko was trying to be supportive, but she had been very thoroughly reassured that he would never get a quirk. She didn’t expect for her little boy to run into the kitchen, scramble through a drawer, grab a paring knife, and draw it down the back of his arm for a couple inches.

“IZUKU!” The poor woman shrieked, dropping her bags and rushing towards her son. She grabbed the roll of paper towels from the counter, readying herself to stop the bleeding.

“Mama watch!” Izuku held his arm so his mom could see the cut fully, but didn’t hold it out to her. He didn’t want to risk her covering it up and not believing him. The young boy scrunched his face up as he focused, pushing his energy towards the cut faster. Sure enough, in front of disbelieving green eyes the shallow cut healed up, leaving not even the slightest scar behind. When Izuku felt the wound completely gone he licked his thumb and scrubbed off the blood. Showing off his cleaned, blemish free arm.

“It’s gone.” Her voice was faint, incredulous even. It was obviously the work of a quirk, but she’d been told for years that there was no hope for her boy to develop one. One look at her son's beaming smile called forth one of her own, her eyes filling with the happiest of tears.

“Oh my baby. I’m so happy for you. My sweet baby.” The pair collided in a hug, tears of relief and joy streaming down both of their faces. It took a good few minutes of crying for both of them to calm down enough to separate. To Izuku’s joy, it was in fact katsudon worthy news, so he went to bed with a belly full of pork.

The next day was one of the best of young Izuku’s life. His mother brought him to a quirk specialist, one who specialized in something called late-bloomers. She was nice enough, for a doctor, and after a few tests and checking him out with her own quirk, told them that yes, he was something called a false negative and had a semi-powerful self healing quirk. They wouldn’t have to worry about going to a quirk therapist, since his quirk only affected him and couldn't hurt. Izuku watched with glee as the doctor updated his quirk registry, giving his gift the title of Self Healing. A very obvious name in Izukus humble opinion, but he loved it anyway.

The green haired duo made it home before lunch, and while the matriarch made herself ready for work, she was able to get the morning off but would have to work later into the night to make up for the time, Izuku buckled down on the computer to research healing quirks. He accepted a goodbye kiss on his head while he pulled a new journal out for himself, one that he decided to dedicate solely to his quirk.

According to his research healing quirks were quite rare, even ones that focused on only their holder. His quirk seemed to use his own natural energy to heal him, which meant he would probably need more calories in his diet in order to get the maximum effect. Maybe he should start drinking coffee? The young boy had taken a couple sips from his mothers mug a couple times and didn’t like the taste very much, but that could probably be fixed with sugar. Lots and lots of sugar.

The internet also told him to beware about human trafficking. Horror stories about those with self-healing quirks being stolen to fighting rings and the like. It was worse for those who’s quirks healed others, becoming targets for villain activity and the hero commission. Though he only found those types of stories deep in the bowels of the internet, in forums you could only find by having the link sent to you. Ghost stories of how the HPSC would offer ‘scholarships’ to those with healing quirks that ended up with what was ultimately indentured servitude.

Dutifully Izuku wrote all his findings down, marking things to be worried about for the future and a note to be careful on who he tells about his quirk. Obviously his school would have to be told, and Kacchan would be so excited he was sure, but he didn’t think he’d want to tell anyone else yet. He also wrote down the injuries he’d gotten so far and how long it took them to heal, noting if he’d pushed his energy to heal it faster or if he’d just let his quirk do its thing.

After the exciting day he’d had, Izuku barely remembered to eat the leftovers his mom had set in the fridge for supper before he tucked himself into bed. For once he couldn’t wait for the coming day of school.

Chapter Text

The few months Izuku spent in the foster home were probably some of the worst in his whole 12 years of living. The house mother, Yokata Kaori, was a decent enough woman. Kind in a detached way, almost clinical in her dealings with the kids in the house. It was those kids who were Izuku’s biggest problem, as hard as he pretended otherwise. Fujimori-san had told him when he was dropped off that there would be 9 other kids he’d be living with in the house, 6 boys and 3 girls. What Fujimori-san didn’t warn him about was that this home was more of a last resort situation for kids with ‘unlikable’ quirks and the attitude problems that came with them.

Not that Izuku thought any quirk was unlikable! Controlling bugs might be a bit creepy, but could be really useful for sneaking in places, maybe Atsushi-kun could become a spy. Honoka-chan being able to make others feel guilt or shame would be a great asset in getting confessions from criminals, or maybe in a therapy environment used to help people get over things. Having never been to therapy himself, though I probably should be, Izuku didn’t know the specifics of how it would be helpful, but he imagined it would.

Still, the other kids in the house didn’t much like how society viewed their quirks, and when they found out about his it only made him stand out. His quirk wasn’t unlikable, his quirk wasn’t dangerous, his quirk wasn’t the reason he was put here. Maybe it was jealousy, or envy perhaps, but the other kids in the house thought Izuku didn’t belong there and wasted no time in letting him know that. In almost the same way the kids at his school had done.

The day after Izuku had got his quirk status updated, he had been overjoyed at the chance to have the school change it. Ecstatic at the ability to show his classmates what he could do, that he wasn’t a useless little deku. It helped a bit, his teachers didn’t look at him with quite as much darkness, disgust, in their eyes, and the kids didn’t tease him at all that morning. At lunch break he had been swarmed, the other 6-7 year olds clamoring around to get an up close demonstration of his quirk. Izuku didn’t mind, taking the scissors from his pencil case and in a move similar to how he showed his mother made a small cut up his arm. Having other kids ooh and ahh at his quirk made something in Izuku light up. It also made something in Kacchan fester.

“Lets see how fast you can heal a burn!” The blond child called out, grabbing the still bloody arm and letting an explosion pop. The other kids shrieking and laughing drowned out Izukus own cry of pain, the tears on his face were ignored as they watched a starburst burn heal before their eyes. Izuku pushed his energy to the burn as fast as he could, wanting to make the hurt stop.

“Kacchan that hurt!” He cried out, using his unhurt arm to wipe at his tears. It was something he’d said many times before and having to say it now, I got my quirk it was supposed to stop now!, made what joy he’d gotten shrivel up a bit.

“So? Not like it matters, it’s already almost gone. And that was just a small one you baby!” The lack of empathy from the explosive boy didn’t really surprise Izuku, or the rest of his classmates, but the near-feral smile that followed did send a shiver down the newly-quirked boy's back.

“Hey, maybe you aren’t so useless after all Deku.” The nickname said with that sneer did not have any of the warmth in it that Izuku craved. “You can help us practice our quirks. Since you can heal it after, we can see what we can really do!”

Fear flooded Izukus veins, the happiness at being the center of attention quickly shifting to panic at being surrounded by his grinning peers. His shaking head was completely ignored as Kacchan reached out again, sparks flying from his hands.

That was the catalyst for the rest of his school life to become a new type of hell for Izuku. All the kids wanted to know what their quirk would do to a person, but none of them wanted to be the test subject. Deku, however, was the perfect solution. The teachers had disdain for the green child so deeply ingrained in both themselves and the other students at the school that no one even thought about stopping it. In fact, after his mother put a complaint in about Izuku coming home with rips and holes in his uniform, the teachers even made it a rule that he had to change into his gym clothes when he arrived at school. They made excuses that sounded plausible to an outsider, oh he gets into so many fights that we feel bad about his mother having to replace his uniform so often, and Izuku was forced to wear his bloody unwashed sports outfit instead.

It made the next 6 years of his schooling hell, since his elementary school fed into the only junior high in the area there was no escape from his classmates. And somehow, even though the group home was out of district and puts all the kids into online schooling so none of his housemates should have known about it, the other foster kids decided on the same course of action. Never when the house mother would see, and always something that Izuku could cover. Stinging bugs found their way into his bedsheets, cactus needles would fly in his direction every time Tomo-chan had a sneezing fit, freezing liquid nitrogen would be sprayed into his shower.

The only difference Izuku saw, and perhaps what made it worse, was there was no escape from the abuse. There was no safe home to run to, no warm hugs to make it better, no relief. Sometimes, if he was able to get all his chores done, Izuku was allowed to leave the property and go to the nearby park but inevitably the other kids who knew the area better were able to find him and had even less hesitation on ‘testing’ their quirks out. His only saving grace was at night in his private, lockable room.

Yokata-san was very inclusive on sexualities, for all her blatant neglect for her charges' well-being, and had every kid in private rooms to prevent any ‘funny business’ in her words. She was the only one with the keys, and she only unlocked the doors for 15 minutes at 9pm and 7am. With Izuku and the others locked in at night, all he really had to worry about was getting all the bugs off his bed or, if he was feeling extra tired, sleeping on top of his dresser instead. The downside was he wasn’t allowed in there during the day, something about being social helped to build character, and thus only had a few precious hours of time awake and safe.

Izuku used his time alone wisely, he only had an hour of uninhibited internet time before the wifi was turned off at 10. It would then stay off for the next 12 hours, enough time for the kids to sleep, wakeup, shower, do their morning chores, use their quirks on Izuku, and then eat before they all were herded into the computer room for their online courses. Thankfully, whether out of neglect, ambivalence, or trust in the social worker, Yokata-san hadn’t checked Izuku’s bags on arrival, and thus didn’t know about his laptop. He had to use the clunky old desktops the rest of the kids did for his schooling, which had annoying parental locks and didn’t let him go on his favorite forums, but in the blissful peace of his room his laptop gave him freedom.

The precious internet time he had was split between chatting in his favorite discords, trolling through various forums, and loading up the hero news and any interesting articles on extra tabs for him to look at when he lost wifi. He also spent a good chunk of time learning about coding and hacking, specifically for modems and routers. Izuku had plans on hacking into the house's router and setting up a second, secret wifi network that wouldn’t have a shut off time. Or, if that failed, perhaps he could hack into one of the neighboring houses to use their wifi. Either way, most of his night was spent reading and learning.

Over the months at the house Izuku had learnt to cherish the night. Daytime was nothing but painful, it had always been for him, but at night he was free. He didn’t have to hide from classmates or housemates, didn’t have to do any chores with chemicals that hurt his hands, didn’t have to pretend about how smart he was to prevent other kids from being mad about his grades. Instead he could pretend that he was at home, that his mother was just away at work, that his quirk wasn’t both a blessing and a curse painting a target on his back.

One of the perks of his quirk, which Izuku had made sure to learn everything he could about and then keep it all a very close secret, was that he didn’t really need to sleep. As long as he got enough food in the day to give his body energy that is, which wasn’t actually hard here. Yokata-san was very strict on the kids having a balanced diet, and 3 calorie dense meals each day helped her achieve that. Which was lucky for Izuku, as that let him stay up as long as he wanted and also helped him heal from all the injuries he got. Conversely, he also didn’t need to eat if he was able to get enough sleep.

His favorite discord, the one he was on most frequently and talked the most in, was for people with villainous, weak, useless, or no quirks. He’d joined it before he’d gotten his quirk, and had made many good friends on it since. There were no names or identifying info allowed in the chats, an admin with a technology quirk made sure of that, but everyone was as open as they could be and treated each other well. Some of the other people in there had also been in or were currently in the foster system, thanks abusive society, and had told stories about their homes. Izuku knew he was lucky in this home, lucky to have a private room, lucky to be fed so much, lucky to be allowed to shower every day. But with the abuse he was getting from his housemates and the lack of care he was getting from the house mother, it was all too much.

The day after his mothers funeral Izuku made his plan. He knew his mother would want him to be safe, but also knew she wouldn’t approve of the home situation he was in so something needed to change. Fujimori-san had told him about the storage unit everything from the apartment got put into, and how his mothers life insurance was paying for it since her death was an accident. There was also a decently sized payout, one that Izuku wouldn’t have full access to until he was 18 but he would instead get a monthly allowance of 22 000 yen until his 18th birthday. Then he would get access to the remaining payout balance of 9.5 million yen. It would be a good nest egg for his future he knew, and he thanked his mothers forethought and diligence about it.

He knew the monthly allowance wouldn’t be enough for him to rent an apartment, not that anyone would rent to a child like him, but it would be enough for some groceries and basic necessities. As long as he had somewhere safe to sleep he could save money on food by not eating, and if he didn’t have a safe sleeping spot he could eat some and be able to stay awake as long as he needed. Some of his money would probably go to his phone plan, but Izuku figured he might be able to go without that as long as he could access some wifi networks. Not like he had anyone he would call or text, plus there were apps for that.

It was almost surreal that Izuku was planning on running away, but he felt so trapped and useless here that he knew it was his only choice. Being homeless was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever experienced, he knew this, but he also knew that the escalation in quirk use against him was going to get him killed. Or expose his secrets. He couldn’t stay at the home.

Izuku spent his final week hoarding what he could. Canned foods were carefully taken from the pantry, whole rolls of toilet paper got folded up in his pockets, the bathroom first aid kit was made suspiciously barren. Since he was in online schooling, which they hopefully wouldn’t cancel once he left, Izuku no longer needed his textbooks or any real school supplies. His backpack was emptied of such things and used to store his supplies, and his duffle bag was repacked as full as he could.

Friday was his last day at the home, as Yokata-san let everyone ‘sleep in’ an extra two hours on saturday and sunday, and Izuku knew that would give him the most time to get as far away as he could before his disappearance was noticed. He ate an extra large serving at supper, eating until his stomach almost hurt with how full it was, before taking what was probably going to be his last hot shower in a long while. His final hour of internet freedom was spent telling his discord friends that he probably wouldn’t be online for the next few weeks, he didn’t want them to worry after all, but he refused to go into detail. A quick catnap and a quiet alarm on his phone later, at 2 in the morning Izuku made his escape. It was easy enough to jimmy the window lock, and with his room on the main floor there was nothing stopping the green pre-teen from getting his freedom.

Chapter Text

Being homeless was both the hardest and easiest thing Izuku had ever done. He had taken the first train he could, ok it was the only train running this late but still, and rode it as far as he could. It ended up with him being close-ish to UA, closer than he’d been living before but hopefully not close enough that he’d attract any attention from the heros working there. Thankfully he was far enough away from his previous school district that he shouldn’t have to worry about running into old classmates. Plus he was close to Dagoba beach, a once beautiful park that was now a landfill and would be a goldmine for materials. If he could dig them out.

His next step was finding a suitable place to live. He’d seen a couple homeless colonies before, though he didn’t know where to look for them here, but he didn’t think it would be the safest option for him. In fact it was probably safest for him to stay as far away from other homeless people as he could. He didn’t think they wanted to hurt him, but desperation made anyone dangerous and a kid like him would be easy pickings. Especially with his lack of fighting skills and his non-physical quirk. Plus he didn’t want to risk stepping on anyone's toes or being in someone's ‘territory’ and taking resources someone else might need.

 A lucky break came a few days after he made his escape, when he stumbled across an abandoned parking garage. It was fairly damaged, a victim of a villain fight or a hero’s collateral damage he didn’t know, but a gap in the fencing gave him easy access. The bottom floors were covered in rubble or completely gone, so Izuku made his way up the stairwell to the roof. Aside from the burn marks scattered across the cement and the giant hole on the far side, it was a pretty decent space. A bit too out in the open for the boy, even though the roof of the garage was an equal height to the surrounding buildings, so instead he decided to hunker down in the stairwell itself. The doors to the roof and other floors had no locks, but Izuku figured he could figure something out. Maybe shove some rubble up against them.

The stairwell wasn’t very large, but it also wasn't overly cramped either. It had been spared most of the damage that ruined the rest of the building, no rubble or even much dust and what there was could easily be cleaned. There was a good sized space beside the stairs going down that held a shelf and a large broom, but if he moved that Izuku could lay down without being cramped. On the outside of the stairwell there was an overhang covering the air circulation and electrical units. It was protected from the elements on two sides and Izuku figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to set up a tarp or two and block off the remaining sides. Maybe he could even dismantle the large metal units for scrap to sell. As long as he stayed away from the edges he would be completely invisible up here, it was perfect.  

Getting his shelter figured out was the easy part, but figuring out what to do after was harder. There was an internet cafe just down the block that Izuku could go to if he needed internet, at least until he figured out how to hack the wifi of the office building beside the parkade. Food was also going to be an issue, though the shelving would be good storage. He had no running water, no electricity, and no bathroom. The last issue was solved by Izuku going one floor down and finding a nice spot that the rubble would protect him from view while he went, and he could also use public bathrooms for number two’s. 

It took Izuku nearly two weeks to get his water situation figured out, with help from the internet. He was able to steal, rescue from the landfill beach really, a couple jugs and rig up a rainwater collection system on the overhang. It would be simple enough to scoop some out to clean his clothes, a rope strung across the overhang made a passable clothes line, and he could drink as much as he wanted. For most people it wouldn’t be safe to drink rain water, but with his quirk Izuku knew he’d be fine. He hadn’t gotten sick since he was 6 years old, even after he’d been made to eat some questionable things by his peers. Dirt and worms did not taste good, don’t ask Izuku how he knew. It wasn’t a fun story.

His electricity problem was solved a week or so after his water problem. Originally Izuku thought about rigging up some solar panels on the roof or something, but the mechanics behind that seemed out of his current skill set. Instead, after another few trips to Dagoba and plenty of youtube videos the pre-teen managed to hook up a bicycle to a makeshift generator and battery system he had managed to make by dismantling the previous rooftop units. The air circulation units were unnecessary for him, and since the city cut off electricity to the lot the rooftop control boxes were also useless. Breaking them down for parts freed up some space under the overhang for the bicycle unit, as well as giving him some covered outdoor space to relax in. A couple hours of cycling made enough energy for him to charge up his phone and laptop if needed, and he managed to find some half working Christmas lights he strung up.

Setting up his new home was back-breaking work, and Izuku knew that he never would have been able to do it without his quirk. He slept during the day, thankfully the November temperatures weren’t bad yet, and didn’t have to really bother with eating through his food stores. His quirk also helped heal him from any muscle or tissue damage he got dragging heavy items around. While he hadn’t done the math on it, or even any tests really, Izuku figured out pretty quickly that he could gain muscle fast. A couple hours of cycling made him sore for maybe twenty minutes, less if he pushed his energy into his legs. Muscles had to tear to grow, and since Izuku could heal the micro-tears easily he saw results within the first few days. Still, with winter coming Izuku knew he’d need to conserve his energy and food to be able to survive it, so he didn’t waste too much of his healing on growing muscles faster. 

In the month it took Izuku to set up his home he also managed to get ahead of his school work. Whoever was in charge of setting him up for online schooling hadn’t bothered to unenroll him once he ran away, though the clever boy did set up a ‘transfer’ to another online school program that let him work at his own pace and would report his progress to a dummy email. Without the distractions that came with being stuck in a room with a group of kids that disliked him Izuku found he excelled at learning. He no longer had to worry about lowering his grades so he wouldn’t stand out, didn’t have to dodge different quirks being used on him, never had to worry about someone ‘accidentally’ unplugging his computer during a test. Now Izuku would never call himself a genius, that was Kacchan levels of ego, he did know he was smarter than most kids his age. That gave him a bit of an edge when it came to completing his work.

With what free time he did manage to grab, Izuku spent it studying hacking or talking to his friends on discord. Being homeless didn’t give him many options for socialization, and since he slept most of the day away Izuku spent many days without speaking a single word. He was sure if he didn’t have the chat he would go crazy with loneliness. Just thinking about the discord made him want to check in, so he decided to hop on the bike to pedal a bit of energy while he chatted.

IScreamForAnything: OK but winter sends the bugs back to hell

Where they belong

Number2IsPoo: But Spring! Cherry blossoms, valentines, seasonal allergies!

BandaidBaby: I’m not sure if that last one is positive?

LaughTrack: Baby! Howsit goin? havent heard from you in a bit

Number2IsPoo: It is when your enemy is allergic to pollen

Also hey Baby

IScreamForAnything: Baby! Tell these heathens that winter is the best season!

BandaidBaby: Hi! Sorry its been so long, school

Winter is pretty, with all the lights, but I like fall. Sweater weather

SleepIsForTheSane: fair. tho the rain is annoying

IScreamForAnything: I suppose fall is an acceptable answer. 

Hows school going? Didn’t you say you just transferred?

BandaidBaby: I did! It’s online and I can do it at my own pace, so I love it!

I don’t have to worry about people destroying my homework

Or deal with annoying classmates!

I’m even able to take some extra classes that I couldn’t before.

LaughTrack: Imagine being that excited for school lol! The energy!

IScreamForAnything: School is important! Your whole future depends on it!

I’m sorry you had to go through that at your old school Baby

But I’m glad you’re enjoying your new school!

SleepIsForTheSane: hows the foster home situation going?

BandaidBaby: It is what it is

SleepIsForTheSane: mood

IScreamForAnything: Mood!

Number2IsPoo: Mood.

AttemptedMurder: mood. 

LaughTrack: You ever read a word too much and then its not a word but a weird jumble?

^^That

Also mood

IScreamForAnything: Oop! Time for me to go to work! Sweet dreams when you get to it!

Number2IsPoo: I should probably go to sleep I guess. Uni starts bright and early

SleepIsForTheSane: sleep? whos that?

BandaidBaby: No clue! But I can pretend!

And so should you!

SleepIsForTheSane: meh

gn tho

Number2IsPoo: NiNi everyone!

Even the short conversation with his online friends brought Izuku’s mood up. Sure he couldn’t meet any of them, and there were no voice channels to talk in, but if he used voice to text he could almost pretend he wasn’t so alone. While he’d been shoehorned into the role of a loner the young boy did actually love talking with friends. He hadn’t really had any in real life in a while, but he still had the want.

With that sad thought Izuku decided it was time for a walk. Now that he’d finished his home base he spent the night wandering around, getting to know the area. Wearing his Present Mic jacket, a dark beanie, and his ripped jeans gave off a bit of a delinquent vibe and helped keep him safe. That and his recently gained leg muscles that helped him run if he did ever encounter trouble. Grabbing his fully charged phone, Izuku tucked it into his pocket before heading down. There were no lights in the parkade staircase, only a slight glow from the nearby streetlights, so keeping a hand on the wall was necessary. 

Finally on the main floor Izuku made his way to the gap in the fence that was his entrance. It was thankfully on the side, opening into an alley and hidden behind a large trash bin. Sometimes the metal scraped his arms, but the faux leather jacket protected him enough. With no set plan in mind, he set out. No route in mind he wandered around, people watching when he got the chance or just getting the lay of the land when he was alone. Through trial and error he had gotten some street smarts, walking like he knew where he was going and never letting his eyes stay on one person for too long. Izuku was a strict follower of the whole ‘mind your business’ philosophy. If it wasn’t hurting someone it wasn’t something he needed to pay attention to. Or well, he should always be paying attention but he shouldn’t let anyone else know he was.

Though, the boy sent a look from behind his bangs towards a nearby CCTV camera. Maybe there was a time and place for minding your own business. Maybe he could find a way to people watch without putting himself in danger. How hard could hacking city cameras be?

Chapter Text

Turns out hacking into city cameras was hard. Go figure. It also wasn’t a one step process. First Izuku had to make his laptop untraceable. That wasn’t terribly difficult, he wrote code for a vpn to bounce his IP location across the world, changing his location every 30 seconds. He also worked on his firewall, no sense connecting to another network without making sure nothing could connect back. For fun Izuku also set up the same programs and protections on his phone. 

His next step was to actually get a reliable wifi connection at his home base. Sure, he could just climb to the roof of the internet cafe and steal their wifi, but he wanted it at home too. That was actually the easiest step. The building right beside the parkade was an office building with multiple different wifi networks, one of which was for ‘guests’ of the company. Which Izuku didn’t count as, but he was able to connect to it and then use that bridge to make an invisible network for himself. If he also boosted the bandwidth to his network then that was nobody's business but his own, thanks.

The final step into getting access to the cctv network was actually hacking said network, and that was not something most would consider a good project for a beginner hacker. Still, Izuku was patient and stubborn, a wonderful combination, and after joining another discord that was solely about ethical hacking and two weeks of solid effort Izuku managed to get past the firewalls. For easy reconnection he added a simple backdoor program, but now Izuku was able to connect to any city owned camera with only a couple buttons. The adrenaline rush he got from managing this got his storage battery to full capacity. Cycling was a wonderful way to burn that energy.

Izuku loved the cameras. Sleep quickly became a thing of the past as he spent more and more time camera hopping. He loved being able to pull out his phone and see everything going on. Want to see some pigeons at a park? Easy. Want to follow that skateboarder to see if they do any cool tricks? No problem. Want to just scroll through random cameras and see what pops up? Literally one of his favorite things. Izuku saw everything, from children playing, to a teen in 8 inch platform shoes trying to catch a bus, to a grown man taking a piss on a tree. Ok that last one wasn’t as magical as the rest of the things he got to see but still.

Another less magical thing Izuku saw was crime. He got to see hero fights, which is awesome!, but he also saw the petty crimes. Muggings, assaults of all types, even some arson. It made something in the boy clench, knowing so much crime was happening in his area and there was no one to help. Yes there were heros, limelight and underground alike, but there simply weren't enough heros for the crime rate. Sometimes, to ease his guilt when he saw these crimes Izuku would send in an anonymous tip to the police hotline. They didn’t always respond to his tips, and when they did they sometimes didn’t make it in time to be of any help, but Izuku felt a bit better knowing his virtual patrol had helped at least a few people.

It was during one of the crimes he reported that Izuku realized the flaw in his plan, police just weren’t enough sometimes. Only a couple blocks away from his parkade a man had been attempting to break into an ATM, so Izuku had sent a tip to the police and waited. Not long after a man in a trench coat had appeared and appeared to be talking to the criminal. Too bad the CCTV cameras didn’t have audio pickups. Instead Izuku got the silent movie version of Trench-Coat walking to thug weapon drawn, thug dropping the crowbar, Trench-Coat holstering his weapon and starting to cuff thug, and then thug pulling a knife from seemingly nowhere and burying it in the chest of Trench-Coat. 

All three of the involved parties froze for a second, shocked at the outcome. The stillness only lasted a moment before the thug pulled the knife back out and ran, Trench-Coat fell to his knees then onto his back, and Izuku practically threw his laptop away to race to the location. He needed to help that officer, my fault my fault my fault, and nothing would stop him. Stairs were jumped multiple at a time, rolled ankles ignored and healed faster than he could think in his panic. The chain-link fence cut a decent gash across his forehead, but the blood was easily blinked away. Finally out on the ground Izuku sprinted, pushing his body to the limit and ignoring how crazy he must look at 2 in the morning. 

The street was deserted when Izuku made it to the scene, a set of bloody footprints leading away and an innocent man gasping for breath in a puddle of his own blood. Izuku ignored the blood, falling to his knees beside trench-coat. The man's eyes flickered open, cloudy brown locking with panicked green.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It’s going to be okay, you’ll be okay! I promise!” Izuku barely heard the mumbled assurances coming from himself, instead he did something he hadn’t in years, putting his hands on the man's chest and he pulled .

Izuku was 10 years old when he found the secondary ability of his quirk, and since then the only other person who knew about it was no longer alive. Ironically enough he’d found it out while he was ‘helping’ another kid test their quirk. Shichiro-kun had a quirk that let him bore holes into anything they put their palm on. The size of the hole was just slightly smaller than where his palm connected, and the depth of the hole depended on how long he kept that contact up. Izuku thought it would be an incredibly useful quirk for a rescue hero, but was finding out it was also incredibly painful to be used on a person. He had to push all his energy to his arm to heal up the wound that was trying to form, all while begging for it to stop and trying to get away from the other kids holding him down.

When Shichiro-kun finally got tired and let go, Izuku didn’t have the chance to slow down his pushing before his energy bounced around his body, trying to find another wound to heal. It was almost painful, like an electric current. When it connected with one of the boys holding him down, Izuku felt the odd feeling of his energy pulling from the boy. He could feel some other energy enter his body, felt a dull throb in his thigh, and then felt his healing push into what he assumed was a bruise. A bruise he didn’t have moments ago and the other boy did.

In the four years Izuku had known about his quirk he’d done enough research to be nearly an expert on healing-type quirks. He knew how rare they were, could list the differences between osteo and vascular sub-types, and could name the most bizarre known healing quirks recorded. The downside was he had also learned the darkness surrounding healing quirks. How quirk traffickers would target healers for underground fight rings or gangs. Those with self-healing quirks were more likely to become fighters, since they could last the longest against all types of combat quirks. Then there was the sex industry, where those self-healers were subjected to high level of cruelty from those with sadistic tendencies.

The criminal element wasn’t the only side healing quirked needed to worry about though. According to some dark web forums, which Izuku was probably too young to be looking through but what his mother didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, the Hero Public Safety Commission was also a danger. More than one healer had told ghost stories of the HPSC coming to their homes when their quirk manifested, offering ‘training’ for the young children that would then have no end date.. Once the commission had a healer in their clutches it was nigh on impossible to escape.

Izuku knew these things like the back of his hand, facts of life he had to live with. The sky was blue, cats were the best, and having a healing quirk was dangerous. So when he felt his body take on the other childs bruise Izuku said nothing. He didn’t tell Kacchan, didn’t even look at where the bruise was. Instead he followed the same set of events as when he’d first learned about his quirk and rushed home to await his mother. He knew without a doubt that he could trust her with this knowledge, with anything really, and so he clung to all his patience and waited.

Thankfully his mother was on an earlier shift and was home slightly over an hour later. This time Izuku didn’t go rushing her, instead he helped her put the groceries she’d bought away and settle into being home. After he got a hug of course. While he had been waiting he’d been thinking, overthinking probably , about his quirk. What if he was just imagining it? He’d been in a lot of pain when the whole bruise stealing thing had happened after all. How would he go about proving it? The last thing he wanted was for his mother to hurt herself so he could test his quirk and then find out he was wrong about it. He was torn, tell her now or wait?

An option presented itself while his mother was making dinner, a simple slip of the knife made a small cut on the older woman's finger. Barely worse than a paper cut, but Izuku heard the sharp breath his mother took and knew he had a chance. He watched her run some water over the cut, it had already pretty much stopped bleeding. Before the woman could grab a bandaid Izuku took her hand with his opposite one.

“Can I try something?” Izuku asked, as was only polite, but it was almost superfluous. The second he’d made skin contact he could somehow feel the cut, like his healing energy was pointing it out. With barely a thought he directed the flow towards where their skin met and again instead of pushing his energy out felt a slight pull. Mother and son watched as the cut simultaneously healed itself from the older woman's hand and the skin split open at the exact same spot on the boy's hand. Once the wound was gone from his mothers hand Izuku sent his energy to his own cut and it was gone in a mere moment.

“Izuku! What?” It wasn’t often that Inko was left speechless, but she felt this moment deserved it. With a quiet reverence she took her son's hand and held it under the tap, which had been left on in a moment of forgetfulness, and the duo watched in awe as the blood cleared to reveal unblemished skin. On both persons hands.

“I can heal others.” Okay, maybe that was stating the obvious. Still, looking into his mothers eyes Izuku saw her shock, amazement, understanding, and fear. He’d told her the sanitized dangers about healing quirks. None of the gory details, he didn’t want to panic his mother, but she knew enough to understand how important this was. How much of a secret it needed to be. A healing quirk like this, one that used his own easily recharged energy to heal others was an unheard of level of powerful, above even the likes of Recovery Girl. 

It was an easy agreement between the pair to never tell another soul about Izuku’s quirk. Not even the Bakugos were told. Izuku got the chance to practice with his quirk on his mother, healing the sore muscles she often came home from work with, easing the arthritis that was starting to take root in her hands. He could even take away the pain of her monthly cramps away for a bit, something she appreciated greatly and gave him a healthy dose of respect/fear of women. His mother was the only one Izuku used his healing on, until Trench-Coat McPoliceman.

A quick tug on the knife tear in Trench-Coats shirt got Izuku skin access and he didn’t hesitate on sending his energy to pull the wound in. Like it had always been with healing his mothers injuries the boy felt every second of it and it was the worst thing he’d ever felt. The knife had been long and sharp, glancing off a rib before piercing straight through the man's lung, knicking the heart along the way. Izuku felt it all happening, felt his lung split open and the blood rush in. His own shirt quickly became soaked with blood, pouring out of the growing wound. This was the biggest injury he’d ever tried to heal, even counting the ones his schoolmates had given him, and he could feel his energy flagging.

It was obvious he couldn’t heal the entire wound, so instead Izuku tried to focus his energy into the internal organs and to replenish the blood lost. It took more time than he would have liked before Trench-Coat cop was left with a much smaller wound, maybe about an inch deep of only muscle damage and with blood already clotting. Sometime during the healing process the man had passed out, but Izuku figured that was probably for the best. This hurt like a buttcheek on a stick, if he had the option he wouldn’t stay awake for it either.

Once Izuku felt the energy to his newly gained wound start to flag, a good few minutes after he’d stopped pulling , he sat up from his position collapsed over the officer. Thankfully no one was around to see that embarrassment. There was a large puddle of blood under the pair, which made Izuku cringe thinking about the pain that would be to get out of their clothes. It was also lucky that he couldn’t get any bloodborne diseases and there was no risk of his blood contaminating Trench-Coats body. And his blood was O negative, so really any blood in the older man's wound would be like a transfusion. Sure.

Trench-Coat still hadn’t woken up and Izuku was at a bit of a loss on what to do now. Obviously he needed to do more research on first aid procedures, he couldn’t solely rely on his quirk. A quick search of his pockets also made it obvious that Izuku had left his phone back at base in his rush to get here. Not the smartest move, but panic makes people stupid. With a few deep breaths to calm himself the young boy started going through the officers pockets, searching for the man's cell phone. 

Luck was with him as the phone was easily found, and also had a fingerprint lock on it. No need to try and guess a passcode for Izuku. It did take a couple minutes of fumbling to find a piece of clothing clean enough to wipe the blood off the man's fingers to actually get the phone to recognize them, the process having to be repeated a couple times to find which finger actually unlocked it. Honestly, who even used their pinky for that, what a stupid security measure. Grumbling to himself Izuku pulled up the messages app and went to the most recent chat, an ‘AizawaHead’ who’d messaged trench-coat only a few minutes before the whole atm robbery disaster.

Trench-Coat also had a name! In the phone case was a small amount of business cards and Izuku took one for himself. He knew he’d want to check on this Tsukauchi person after and he’d need a name to look up. Shaking those thoughts from his head, Izuku also took a moment to memorize AizawaHead’s number before typing out a quick message.

AizawaHead: another anonymous tip huh

 have fun

TruthOrDare: He’s hurt. Stable condition but needs the hospital. 

*Location Sent*

AizawaHead: Who is this?

The reply was almost instant, but Izuku didn’t bother replying to it. Instead he locked the phone again, tucked it back into the pocket he’d found it, and made himself stand. His chest still ached and he was wobbly with blood loss, but Izuku knew he couldn’t stick around. Not only would there be questions he couldn’t answer, but he was technically a runaway and he really didn’t want to deal with that. In a woozy run Izuku made his way back to his base, taking a brief moment to wipe his feet on a patch of grass to prevent footprints. He didn’t know how long it would take AizawaHead to get help to Trench-Coat man and he wanted to be well hidden before that happened.

Stairs were a challenge with his level of blood loss, but Izuku made it to his rooftop hideaway and flopped in front of his forgotten laptop. The cctv footage of the atm was still pulled up and Trench-Coat was still laying there. The puddle of blood under the man looked terrifyingly large from this angle, the equivalent of two people bleeding out was not a small thing, and if Izuku wasn’t so sure about his quirks healing he’d be worried. Instead, since he could see the faint rise and fall of the mans chest and had felt the man's heartbeat within his quirk, Izuku spared half of his attention to wiping the camera footage of any trace of himself. Almost 15 minutes of footage total was deleted, the second he showed up to the second he left the frame. And then Izuku spent some time following himself to and from the scene on other cameras and erasing that footage too. 

He’d barely managed to erase the last bit of his existence when a flicker of movement on the window dedicated to watching over Tsukauchi caught his attention. A man in a black jumpsuit with white rope floating around his neck leapt from a nearby roof, landing near the downed officer with grace. Izuku watched the man approach cautiously, his anxiety ratcheting up at the thought of Trench-Coat being in danger again before the new figure finally faced the camera. The bright yellow goggles on the man's face were instantly recognizable to the hero fan and melted his fears away. 

Eraserhead himself was there! Izuku had texted Eraserhead, that chatname was hilarious and probably his real name what!, and the sight of the underground hero made him let out an excited squeal. Quietly. The hero was definitely Izuku’s second favorite hero, seeing as how the man fought pretty much quirkless, which Izuku would need to do if he wanted to become a hero. Eraser was also probably the number one underground hero, if unders had a ranking system like limelights. It was hard, almost impossible really, for Izuku to get any information about the dark man but from what little he was able to glean about the man's catch rate, casualty rate, and collateral damage rate he knew Eraserhead was the best under.

Lost in his moment of pure fanboy happiness, Izuku almost missed the moment Eraser decided it was safe enough to approach the still unconscious man. It was fair to be cautious, this practically screamed ‘trap’, but the green child could only feel relief as he watched the officer he’d nearly gotten killed get the help he needed. Still he watched, keeping a silent vigil as Eraserhead checked vitals and did basic first aid. The ambulance sirens could be heard from his roof, but Izuku didn;t let himself look away from the screen until both men were inside the vehicle and on their way to qualified help. 

When it was finally safe to close his laptop Izuku did so easily and then collapsed to his back, uncaring of where he slept as long as he got to do it soon. A final thought ran through his mind as he slipped into blissful energy refilling rest, I have Eraserheads phone number!, before the child let sleep take him.

Chapter Text

In the weeks following the disastrous night with Trench-Coat, Izuku pulled back from his virtual patrols. It was scary to know that if he sent in a tip he was putting an officer's life on the line. On one hand, yes it was literally their job to deal with the crimes he’d reported, but it felt like a whole other thing when he was the one sending them into danger.

He’d checked in on Trench-Coat a few times after the incident and he was livid. According to the police report, which Izuku definitely wasn’t supposed to have access to, Tsukauchi Naomasa responded to a 10-59 and was then injured in the line of duty and healed by persons unknown for reasons unknown. A quick bit of research let Izuku know that a 10-59 was meant for a security check or for criminal mischief. Robbing an atm, it’s like drive-thru bank robbing, was considered a felony but they decided to treat it as if someone was kicking over trash bins. They had sent a lone detective on a call that should have had multiple squads.

Thankfully Tsukauchi had no lasting damage from the attack and thanks to a doctor's quirk had already made a full recovery. He’d been put on leave for a week to recover, because obviously being stabbed and nearly bleeding to death was traumatic, but according to the police report had only fuzzy memories of the assault itself and almost nothing after. The only statement given was ‘Green. A bright green.’ which honestly Izuku found a bit amusing. His name was almost in the report and yet nothing could be linked back to him.

So while it had ended okay for Trench-Coat, stabber-man had gotten away and Izuku himself was left traumatized by the whole experience. He just didn’t know how he could trust sending in another tip and not have it be as mishandled as the atm robbery was. If he wasn’t close enough next time, a person could die and it would be his fault. That just wasn’t something Izuku wanted to happen, couldn’t allow to happen, so he pulled back. He still watched the cameras occasionally, but refused to stray away from the proven safe sights. Fountains, parks, airy daytime public streets where he could people watch. Yet every day his guilt at purposefully not helping battled with his guilt on sending someone into a dangerous situation unequipped. 

Eventually, after nearly 3 weeks of refusing to look for crimes, Izuku stumbled onto one again. Live this time, since he’d been on his way to Dagoba beach for an evening rummage when the scraping of shoes on pavement and a cut-off shriek caught his attention. Tucking himself into a nearby doorway Izuku pulled out his phone and brought up the camera feeds for the area. Only one block ahead of him, barely visible thanks to the camera angle, a tall skinny male presenting person holding a short female presenting person against the wall by their hair. He couldn’t make out much on the aggressor, but could easily see the fear in the victims eyes and his feet moved without thought. 

With his phone shoved into his pocket Izuku ran, skidding into the alley without hesitation and full body tackling the man. Which, ok, not his best plan but honestly Izuku wasn’t really in a planning mode. Instead him and the man both hit the ground hard, a sickening snap coming from Skinny’s wrist as they connected with the ground. Izuku quickly rolled off and away, putting his years of bully-escaping to good use. 

“You little bitch! I’ll kill you for this.” Skinny-Jerk shrieked, wow that’s a scratchy voice, holding his probably-broken wrist to his chest and throwing out his other arm. Oh right, quirks were a thing Izuku really should have been worrying about. A stream of what looked like dense smoke shot from the man's palm and Izuku wasn’t quite quick enough with his dodge, getting his leg caught by the smog and his body whipped around by the momentum before crashing into the wall. The boy barely had time to scrabble at the ground and leap away as more smoke was shot at him. Izuku knew he was in trouble, he had no combat experience and the victim had sunk to the ground in fear instead of running away, which meant he couldn’t run away either. Instead, the boy decided to watch and analyze while being thrown around by smoke.

An emitter type, starting from the palm and heading in a straight line. Smog goes about 5 feet from the user unless it hits something, leaves a black sooty residue where it hits. User takes a big breath of air before each attack, presumably uses own breath or lungs to power attack. Gets light headed by repeated attacks. Judging by the frankly overpowering smell of cigarette coming off the user and previously noted voice, possibility that the quirk pulls pollutants from the lungs and uses that as an attack. Options for combatting; get in a hit, preferably to throat, while user is inhaling or wait until user runs out of built up lung smoke.

It took a few moments of jumping around and being thrown around the alley for Izuku to figure out the quirk. Thankfully his own quirk helped keep him moving, even if he only pushed his healing to the injuries that would slow him down. Once he did figure out the weakness, it was only a few more smog blasts before the boy got his chance. While Skinny-Smoke took in a gasp and wobbled a bit, Izuku launched himself for the man again. There was no finesse or skill involved in the throat punch he managed, but it got the job done. Cigarillo-man stumbled back into the wall with a flurry of coughs and Izuku made a last ditch effort, throwing a sloppy fist at the man's nose. Good news, the force of the hit was somehow enough to snap his head back into the wall and knock him unconscious. Bad news, Izuku definitely broke a couple fingers. Note to self, don’t punch people in the face.

The alley seemed almost unnaturally still after Smog-Man slumped to the ground, the only sounds being Izuku’s weazy gasps and the hiccupy sobs of the attacked victim, who still didn’t run away. A small rude voice in Izuku’s head, one that sounded suspiciously like Kacchan, was angry that this adult woman had done nothing while a literal child was being attacked, but Izuku knew that fear and panic made people less likely to act. It did look like the woman had her phone out, but judging by the black screen it was either dead or broken.

“Um, it’s okay now. He can’t hurt you anymore. Are you, um, are you injured?” Slowly Izuku made his way slowly to the cowering woman, hand visible and open to show he meant no harm. She seemed to almost startle at his voice.

“What? No, no I’m fine. He just, he pulled my hair a bit. Pushed me. I’m not hurt. You’re hurt!” Speaking seemed to bring the woman out of her fear daze, which was good. Less good that she was focusing on him when all Izuku wanted was to fade away, but still good.

“Oh, no I’m okay. It’s fine, barely anything.” Izuku lied like a liar who lies. It wasn’t a stab wound, sure, but at least a couple of his fingers were broken, his eye was already swelling shut, and he most likely had some bruised or cracked ribs. Nothing a good hour of healing couldn’t take care of, not that he would be telling her that. Distraction time! Quickly Izuku turned back to Sleepy-Smoke, watching as the man breathed for a moment to ensure he was still out cold before looking up and down the alley. It was annoyingly clean.

“Um, do you have anything we could tie him up with?” Maybe a stupid question to ask a civilian, but she was carrying a purse and he knew womens purses had a magical portal in them that could produce the strangest things. He’d once seen a lady pull out 3 whole cabbages from her purse, no context. He would put nothing past women and their bags. Unfortunately the answer was a shaken head and a confused look. Well excuse him for believing she’d be prepared for anything. 

Maybe he didn’t need shoelaces. He’s sure he’ll find some on Dagoba next time he goes. With that thought in mind, Izuku wasted no time pulling his laces out. He didn’t really know the best knots, so he just did whatever he could to bind the man's wrists together while he spoke. He did try to get the man's hands facing each other palm to palm while he tied, hoping that would be enough to stop him from using his quirk. Izuku even used his second lace to tie each finger together at the bases, as added security. It would be a bit uncomfortable once the man woke up sure, but no lasting damage.

Speaking of damage, Izuku took the chance while he was trussing the man up to check on his injuries. His left wrist was definitely broken, but the break was on the radius itself and not the scaphoid at all, so it should be easy enough to get fixed. The man also had a broken nose, which was not life threatening so unimportant to Izuku right now, a small bump on the back of his head, and the only worrying injury of bruising to the throat. He didn’t seem to be having any trouble breathing but Izuku couldn’t tell if the man's wheezing breaths were from heavy smoking or damage to the trachea. Better safe than sorry, Izuku brushed his fingers on the man's hand and pulled the internal damages mostly away. He left a bit of the swelling and all the external bruising in case the man was looked at. He could also somehow tell the man had alcohol in his system, is that cause alcohol is considered a poison?, which is honestly probably the only reason the fight ended the way it did.

“Is your phone working? Can you call the cops?” Of course if she couldn’t he would, but he knew she’d feel safer if she could talk to a professional telling her help was on the way. Something about trained professionals being more comforting than pre-teen boys. Nonsense.

“I called when you were, uh, fighting? But my phone was at like 2 percent battery so it died. But I told them where we are so they should be on the way.” Almost as soon as she finished speaking Izuku could hear the sirens, which of course made him panic. Did this count as being a vigilante? He really could not afford to stick around. Still, it was very good thinking on her part to call them while he was fighting, and he mentally squashed his rude Kacchan voice a bit more.

“Okay cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. He’s not getting out of these knots, probably, so I’m just gunna, uh go. Ya, I gotta go. Um, I was never here, okay? Cool.” That was certainly a coherent string of words, good job brain. Izuku clambered as quickly as he could onto one of the alley's dumpsters and made a leap for the closest fire escape. Thank you dragging heavy objects around to set up his home base for giving him the upper body strength needed to pull himself up the ladder. 

“Oh. Uh. Okay?” She sounded confused, which was fair, but thankfully not afraid. That means Izuku didn’t have to feel guilty about leaving her alone. Not that he was actually going to. Once he got to the roof he flattened himself down near the edge, close enough that he could hear what was happening below and easily peek over if he wanted, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen if the police looked up. Which they probably wouldn’t, unless the woman told them where he went. He’d burn that bridge when he got to it. To keep an eye on the situation Izuku also pulled out his phone, turning the brightness as low as he possibly could. 

It was only a few seconds later that the police pulled up to the alley entrance, two uniformed officers stepping out and taking in the scene. They split up quickly, one going to check on the victim and other going for Mr.Cig. Izuku let himself drift into his healing a bit as he listened to the situation below. As callous as it might sound, Izuku didn’t really care about the woman's name, or really what happened now. She would be driven home most likely, he would go to jail probably, and Izuku could go home and go to bed while overanalyzing the pitiful fight he’d just barely managed to win.

“Can you describe this man? The one who saved you?” Oops, seems like a good time to zone back in. That was probably a routine question for the officer to ask, but Izuku felt his heart climb into his throat. Not good.

“Oh, uh. Tall, like taller than you. Kinda bulky. Blond hair. I couldn’t really see his eyes, but they looked dark, maybe brown? Or black? Mid twenties maybe? Could be early twenties, I'm not good at telling age.” Okay, wow. Izuku bit back some tears as he listened to the woman completely bald face lie about him. That was probably the kindest thing someone had done for him in literal months. There was a slight sting that ‘tall’ was the exact opposite she came up with for him, but he was only 12 he had a lot of growing left. Hopefully. 

The officer seemed to take the woman's words at face value, writing them all down dutifully before helping to her feet and into the second police car, which had probably pulled up sometime when Izuku was drifting. Izuku watched patiently as both police cars loaded up their passengers before driving off, and then waited an extra ten minutes more. Finally, once Izuku deemed the coast clear enough he made his way back down the fire escape and towards his base. He was too drained, emotionally and physically, to do a Dagoba run. 

It took barely fifteen minutes for Izuku to be back up at his sleeping area, pulling his laptop towards himself as he settled down. Following the same methods as when he’d helped Tsukauchi, the tired boy took the time to erase his existence from the camera memories. He was careful to keep as much of the woman's original assault in the memory though, wanting the police to have enough evidence to put the criminal away. When that was finally done he let himself close the laptop and slip into slumber.

Chapter Text

Obviously, at least to Izuku, something needed to change. Not with his whole ‘homeless orphan pre-teen’ or ‘hasn’t had actual food in months’ situations, but with his ‘stopping crime with minimal danger’ plan. He wasn’t able to fight, something he’d been made painfully aware of, but he also wasn’t quite willing to send tips to the police as often as he did before. The tips he did send in he watched closely, hot-keys mapped on his keyboard to alert the appropriate channels if whichever cop handling the call needed more backup. It seemed like the police had learned their lesson though, or at least had started paying more attention to what he flagged his tips as, since they started responding with the appropriate numbers and force. 

There’d even been a couple occasions where a pro hero had been sent in response to his tips. Which was, frankly, baffling to Izuku. That a boy like him was being listened to enough that pros were working with him, however indirectly. And they didn’t know who he was. Or how old he was. But still, how exciting!, he was able to watch from the cameras as the heros dealt with whatever situation. It really helped with his analysis notes, especially with underground heroes like Eraser Head and twilight heroes like Mr Brave. 

It seemed like a logical progression for Izuku to start sending his crime tips straight to heros, cut out the middleman and get help there faster, but he was nervous. Could he really have the gall to try and order a pro hero around? To tell them where to go? That seemed like a whole new level of impudence, so to help make up his mind the boy took to his favourite discord.

IllJumpYou: Thats what Im saying!

Fuck around and find out is a real thing

Scientific method of dumbassery honestly

ScanComplete: I don’t think that how it works but go off i guess.

BandaidBaby: F**k around is a harsh lesson

ScanComplete: lol nice censoring baby

really living up to the name

BandaidBaby: …………

Fuck you

nowait

ScanComplete: *GASP* BABY!

WheresMyBell: BABY!

IllJumpYou: BABY!! I’M SO PROUD

BandaidBaby: NO!

IM SORRY

PLEASE

LaughTracks: BABY!

They grow up so quick lol

IScreamForAnything: BABY!! 

Who’s corrupting Baby?!

I blame you jump

BandaidBaby: I’m so sorry

I’ve brought dishonour on myself

Please forgive me

o(´д｀o) 

SleepIsForTheSane: *insert ‘watch your profanity’ gif here*

ScanComplete: is there a reason you didnt just put the gif?

SleepIsForTheSane: *insert ‘shrugs’ emoji here*

AttemptedMurder: chaos 

BandaidBaby: ANYWAYS

I have a question

Hypothetical

Obvs

If i could do a thing

An important thing

A helpful thing

But in order to do it right i’d have to boss someone else around

Like legit message them

And the someone else is a professional

And im very much not

But i know what im doing!

And its a good thing!

Should i do the thing? Tell them waht to do?

Or stay in my lane?

IScreamForAnything: Ok thats a lot of vague

Is the thing legal?

IllJumpYou: Dont answer that

I want plausible deniability

But fuck that

If someone isnt doing their job right tell them!

And if they get mad at you send them to me

Ill kick their ass

ScanComplete: kick their ass

anonymously

through the internet

IllJumpYou: Yes!

IScreamForAnything: If the thing won’t hurt anyone

Including yourself!!!

And you can do it safely

Then yes. Message them. Be brave Baby, you can do it!

SleepIsForTheSane: *insert ‘thums up’ here*

ScanComplete: thums

BandaidBaby: thums

LaughTrack: thums

WheresMyBell: thums

SleepIsForTheSane: *insert ‘STFU’ here*

BandaidBaby: OK! I’ll do the thing!

Maybe

Im more likely to do the thing now than i was before

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Thanks for the advice!

And promises of violence! 

DoYouSmellThat: Go back to work! Or school!

Its the middle of the day!

IScreamForAnything:  !! Σ（ﾟдﾟlll）!!

*flees*

LaughTrack: *flees*

BandaidBaby: Online School ftw!

DoYouSmellThat: (≖_≖ )

BandaidBaby: ᕕ(╯°□° )ᕗ

*flees*

Izuku closed the app with a laugh, feeling lighter after talking to his friends. He didn’t know who they were in the real world, though he was sure some of them had managed to meet up or talk off the app. Still, even without names he knew these people and they were the closest thing someone like him would get to friends. He cherished them greatly. 

With their advice and encouragement he would do the thing! The only issue was he only had access to one hero's number. The hero that he was probably the most intimidated by. Which was fair in his opinion, Eraser Head could probably fold him in half blindfolded with both hands tied behind him. He was Izuku’s number two hero without a doubt, but the boy also had a respectful dose of fear of the man. The only other option was to hack into the hero network and get contact info from there, but the light check Izuku had done into their network security had sent him scurrying away. He wasn’t ready for that hornet's nest yet.

There was also the option of texting Tsukauchi, but the man was a detective not a hero. Plus Izuku still felt the guilt of almost sending the man to his death, he really didn’t want to send the man into danger again. Really, his only option was sending the bigger crimes to Eraser Head but that would require planning. 

New years came and went while Izuku did his research. It wasn’t stalking, thank you very much. He simply needed to know the hero’s patrol schedule, the routes he took, the general level of fights he got in without backup. Normal things if he was going to be sending the man into trouble. Getting all the info was difficult, Eraser was very good at making sure he stayed off cameras. He also varied his patrols, never taking the same patrol as the day before, which was a great idea to prevent ambushes but made finding his pattern difficult for the pre-teen. 

Still, weeks of effort eventually paid off, even if Izuku burned through his food stores to sacrifice his sleep for more research. Now he knew roughly where Eraser would be at any time of patrol on any given day. He’d also, while the hero was at UA, managed to track down Stabber-man. Call it a grudge, but Izuku couldn’t stand the thought of the man getting away with what he’d done. It was a bit tedious, following the man through the cameras for days, before he was able to get an ID on the man. One Matsubara Kazuya, mid thirties with a mild strength enhancement quirk. He also had a fairly long rap sheet and a couple open investigations on him. In Izuku’s opinion he didn’t seem like the sharpest crayon in the box, especially once he got footage of Matsubara mugging a man with the same knife he’d stabbed Tsukauchi with.

It seemed like a decent case to open communication with Eraser Head, so Izuku bided his time. He needed Matsubara to commit a crime while Eraser was on patrol and nearby. Matsubara was either bold, desperate, or very stupid in that he was out almost every night and luck was with the good side when Izuku didn’t have to wait long. A quick double check on his laptop assured him that his phone couldn’t be traced by anyone short of Nezu himself.

??????: Matsubara Kazuya is attempting to break into a conbini ward 9 block 3

Matsubara is wanted for questioning in multiple cases

He should also be investigated for the stabbing of Detective Tsukauchi

He is armed with at least one knife and has a mild strength quirk

EraserHead: Who is this?

How did you get this number?

??????: Please hurry Eraser Head

The cashier has got the door barricaded but won’t last long

Was it rude of Izuku to giggle a bit as he watched Eraser scowl at his phone? Maybe. But really, the man stopped in the middle of a roof within clear view of the camera, so that was pretty much asking to be watched. He could almost see the man's internal struggle, balancing the chance of this being a trap against a possible innocent in danger. A hero through and through, just like Izuku knew he was, the pro only hesitated a moment before launching himself to the location.

The ease that Eraser took down the criminal was even more comical. With the element of surprise, the capture weapons long reach, the extra strength erased, and the criminals own single minded focus on breaking down the door, it took a mere moment for the man to be trussed up and swinging from a lightpost. Eraser Head was goals in so many ways.

It seemed like the cashier was on the ball and had hit the silent alarm, as only a few minutes later a couple cop cars came around the corner. Izuku knew he didn’t need to watch anymore, Eraser was there and would keep the situation under control, so he didn’t mind clicking to other cameras. His goal of establishing communication with the hero had been met, now he just needed to wait to see how it would be received.

A couple hours and a good half dozen tips sent in to the police Izuku was brought out of his cctv trance by his phone's ringtone. Honestly, he’d forgotten it did that, who even called anymore. Looking at the caller ID almost had him throwing his precious phone across the garage. Eraser Head was calling him. Of course he was, that would be a logical response to getting a text from a random number that refused to identify itself. Hopefully the man wasn’t actually expecting Izuku to answer because the boy was currently holding the device as far from his body as he could, cringing like it might explode with one wrong move. He had also silenced the ringtone, because he did not need All Mights dulcet tones bringing attention to him.

Once the vibrations stopped Izuku finally felt brave enough to bring the phone closer and then promptly dropped it when a text came in. His poor anxious heart could not handle this. 

EraserHead: I still want to know who this is. 

And how you got this number.

And how you knew about Matsubara and the detective.

Of course he did. Well all in due time. Maybe. Izuku really hadn’t planned further ahead than just sending out that initial message. Plus there was no way he could tell the hero. Just go ‘oh ya I’m the one who sent your detective friend to his almost death and then saved his life with some illegal quirk usage, no big deal’ and expect Eraser to accept it. Plus the rest of his Tragic Backstory, not really something he wanted to trauma dump on the man.

??????: Please forgive me for not answering that

Because really, Eraser couldn’t honestly be expecting him to answer after he flat out ignored the question before. 

EraserHead: I will find out.

Nice, getting threatened by a pro hero. This was both the best and worst outcome.

EraserHead: Thank you for the tip.

Best outcome! Izuku changed his mind all the way! He couldn’t believe it. On one hand, yes he’d expected the hero to be a bit grateful, it had seemed like the man was friends with Trench-Coat and would therefore be welcoming of justice for the man, but on the other hand, acknowledgement! From a pro! His second favourite hero ever! 

Izuku may or may not have spent a few minutes rolling around on his bedding, clutching his phone to his chest and trying not to squeal. There were no cameras and no evidence, nothing could be proven. He did spend a bit too much time on his excitement, making him pass the socially acceptable time to reply to a text. Still, this was only the beginning. Hopefully he’d be able to get open communication with Eraser, and then once he got some trust maybe with other heroes as well. His end goal would be him being able to send crimes to the closest available hero, sending the smaller stuff to the cops. Even if he couldn’t do anything himself, this was how he could start helping. 

This was his starting line.

Chapter Text

Izuku was honestly straight up having a good time right now. In the couple of weeks since he’d first messaged Eraser Head he’d sent the man to 3 more villain encounters and each time the hero had hesitated for less time. Obviously he was still taking the time to tell somebody where he was going, just in case it was a trap, but he seemed to be less torn about it. Which Izuku found heady, slowly gaining the trust of a pro. It reminded him of the stray cats that sometimes found their way into his parkade, skittish and prone to biting but not mean for the sake of being mean. 

If he’d made a few different cozy sleeping areas and watering stations for the strays to use, that was nobody's business but his. Perhaps he’d also spent part of his monthly allowance on dried cat food to spread around the area. He kind of liked the idea of having a whole destruction of cats sharing his home. Destruction was probably his favourite collective noun, followed closely by glaring. Sure, clowder was the more common term, but that didn’t capture the beauty that was a dozen feral cats staring at you from atop a wall. 

Eraser Head would probably be part of a glaring. He seemed to have the disposition for it.

Today wasn’t about Izukus cats, unfortunately. No, today was about expanding his personal hero network. He’d decided, based on the area he liked to focus his camera watching in, which heroes he’d like to get the numbers of. Mr. Brave and Ms. Joke were at the top of his list, both of them being twilight heroes. The first problem he encountered was he didn’t really know how to get those numbers. Hacking the hero network was a bit out of his league right now and while the thought of straight up asking Eraser for the number was hilarious he couldn’t see it ending well. 

The only plan he could see working even a little bit was to hack Eraser's phone. He wouldn’t be able to get his hands on it, there was no way the man would let him get that close, but maybe if he got his laptop close enough he’d be able to connect to it somehow and scan his contact list. It wasn’t really easy writing the program for that. Between his regular school work, watching the cameras, keeping his living area running, and trying to find a way to get himself regular access to hot showers he had to take his time with the hacking program. He’d decided to forgo eating for a while to save up money to buy himself a new laptop and a tablet, so he’d actually had to dedicate time to sleeping so he’d have energy still. Now though, after weeks of coding, testing, and re-coding he’d finally got a program that worked.

PhoneBooker, as he’d so cleverly decided to name his program, worked by connecting his laptop to the cell towers feeds, putting in a fake call to his target's phone, and then using that connection to pull the contact list. The target phone would vibrate for half a second when the fake call was made, but Izuku hoped the owner would think it was a phantom vibration and ignore it. When he’d tested it on a couple random pedestrians he was able to get their whole contact list in under 30 seconds, which was fine for someone walking by but could pose an issue for his plans. The target phone needed to be within a specific radius of his laptop so he’d need to find a way to keep Eraser Head in one place for long enough that he could get close, run the program, and get away all without being seen by the man. The man who happened to be a pro hero known for his keen observation. Sure, no problem.

Making PhoneBooker did give him access to cell reception at least, so he no longer needed to rely on stealing peoples wifi. With his vpn program running he was practically a ghost in the system, with free data! A wonderful bonus.

Tonight was the night Izuku was going to get that contact list. He had his laptop and phone fully charged, an incognito outfit, including a knit hat, put on, green hair is pretty noticeable after all, and he was just getting to the area he knew Eraser would be patrolling. With a couple minutes of wandering Izuku managed to find himself a nice little alley dumpster he could tuck himself behind and got to work.

Finding the elusive pro took a bit more time than he would have liked. Sure he’d managed to learn the patrol routes, but only in a really vague sense. He knew what city the hero would be in, and usually what district, but beyond that it was mostly a game of scanning the cameras for a hint of fast moving shadow. Not to mention that once he found Eraser he’d then also have to keep an eye on him while looking for crime to send him towards. For tonight's purpose he also had to know where the crime was in relation to himself so he’d be able to get there before the show was over. Maybe he could make another program to do that for him? He could also try to track the hero’s phone, but for some reason that felt a bit too personal. Crossed the imaginary line that was his morals.

After a couple hours of camera screening he finally got his chance. It looked like a smaller fight, 4 people total all beating each other up. Based on their movements they were probably all drunk, and therefore should be no match for Eraser. Plus they were only a couple blocks from where he was now. Go time. Izuku packed up his gear while he sent the details to Eraser. 

??????: There’s a fight happening by the bar in block 19

4 men, 3 unknown quirks 1 mutant

No quirk use yet but it seems to be gearing up

Izuku didn’t bother waiting, instead shoving his headphones on and casually walking towards the fight. As usual the pro didn’t reply to his message, a simple acknowledgement would be nice, but the cameras did catch him heading towards the target location. A quick flash of white fabric snaked across the edge of Izukus peripheral vision but he kept his head down, trying not to bring attention to himself. Just another random person out for a midnight stroll.

He heard the fight before he saw it, one of the brawlers seemed to have a quirk that caused thunder-like booms whenever he clapped his hands. Which was cool, but not really useful in the fight. Izuku peeked around the corner, watching in awe as the fight continued, before he remembered his mission and shook himself. He was close enough, hopefully, so he pulled out his laptop and ran the program.

With the amount the fighters were moving he couldn’t pin down exactly which phone belonged to the hero, so he set PhoneBooker to scrape all 5 phones. He could always delete the extra data after. That did mean it would take over 2 minutes to run all the phones, but that was a necessary risk. He didn’t dare peek around the corner again so instead he watched the fight from his phone while he waited very impatiently for the progress bar to fill up. 3 of the fighters were down already, groaning pitifully or just completely passed out, but the fourth had some type of shell-like skin mutation quirk that was allowing him to just tank the incoming blows. Eraser Head managed to get his capture weapon around the man and fling him into a wall just as the task complete popped up on Izuku’s laptop. The boy wasted no time stuffing his laptop into his bag before casually fleeing as quietly as he could, heart pounding.

His heart didn’t slow down until he made it safely back to his parkade, no signs of being discovered or followed. Part of him wanted to sink bonelessly to his ‘bed’ but he decided to instead sort through the spoils of his outing. One of the contact lists only had 3 numbers in it, so that was discarded, and it was simple enough work to put in a search for Trench-Coat’s number. Obviously it only came up in one contact list, so the rest were erased.

There was a somewhat surprising amount of phone numbers in Erasers contact list, thought maybe that was a rude thought, and it seemed to be organized by family name. No nicknames, no first names, no hero names. Family name only. Which was honestly a bit annoying, not every hero had their names easily available. Thankfully he knew Ms.Joke was a teacher at Ketsubetsu, and their teachers' names weren’t as closely kept a secret as they were at UA. A couple minutes of investigation found him the number for one Fukukado Emi, and he quickly added that to his personal hero contact list. Which is an amazing thing to think about, let alone have. Even if it only had the numbers of 2 heroes, and neither of them were given to him willingly. Still!

Mr.Brave was a bit harder to find, and it took Izuku almost an hour to find out his full name, Bureibu Misuta, and the only reason he did find it was because of a yearbook photo from the university the man went to. It was good that the heroes were keeping their identities safe, more than one villain had attacked heroes' families before, but man did it make extra work for Izuku. 3 heroes now were in his contact list.

Izuku did try to reverse search a couple of the other numbers on the list, but all of them came up as private. Again, yay hero security but boo for his workload. Even if he hacked into the carriers to find out their full names it still wouldn’t be easy to connect the name to the hero. Maybe he would have to reconsider his idea on tracking the phones themselves, at least so he could get a visual on the owner. It still felt too stalkerish for the boy, but he knew he wouldn’t use it for anything nefarious. Perhaps he’d also find a way to make every phone he tracked untraceable to anyone else, as an apology. 

There was one contact, simply named Rat, that Izuku avoided even looking at too long lest he attract the attention of the cryptid principal he was sure it belonged to. No thanks to that.

Dawns pale light was just creeping across the sky as Izuku finished saving the contact list to a hidden cloud folder before wiping it from his computer. He thought about wiping the program itself, although he’d put so much effort into it, but ultimately decided to keep it. With a bit of tinkering he was sure he could make it copy his targets recent chat history, which could potentially be very useful for gathering evidence. He’d have to figure out a way to make it initiate the grab faster, but it was doable. Hopefully.

The final step in Izuku’s plan of creating his own hero network would be tracing both Ms. Joke and Mr. Brave for a while, figuring out their patrol patterns. It would be time consuming, following two hero’s around virtually, and really he wanted to get this done as soon as possible. Again, tracing their phones would be a viable option, but he wasn’t ready for that step. Instead Izuku started writing out some code that would hopefully become a type of facial recognition software. If he could make it so the computer did all the work scanning the cameras and only pinged a location when it found the person he was looking for, he could, in theory, have it watch both twilight heroes and then just figure out the pattern himself. It could also hopefully be able to help him track villains, a program like this would have made finding Stabber-man a whole lot easier. With a final stretch of his neck, Izuku got to work.

Across the city, blissfully unaware of what had happened to his phone, a man sat in bed staring at said device. He didn’t like the mysterious texter seeming to know when crime was happening near him, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t dangerous. Well, it was dangerous but not aimed at him. Like a sword, sharp and deadly, but with the point facing away. Facing towards unknown dangers, pointing the way or protecting him from the dangers he wasn’t quite sure yet. Maybe it was time to find out.

EraserHead: Thanks for the info.

Who are you?

Chapter Text

??????: You’re welcome!!

And im the same as who i was the last time you asked

A secret

sorry

It was a not unexpected answer, but it still annoyed the underground hero. Aizawa Shota found that he didn’t mind terribly much. A by-product of being the personal student of a certain rat-like god tier cryptid was that Shota actually liked mysteries, enjoyed the thrill of solving them. He didn’t like surprises, which this whole thing had started out as, but it had now become a puzzle. The mystery texter was benign enough so far that Shota didn’t feel bad about keeping this little enigma for himself, he reasoned that he’d bring Nezu in if the situation ever deteriorated. 

EraserHead: Maybe you’ll answer this instead.

How do you know where I am when you send me these messages?

??????: Oh! Cameras

I followed you on public and private cctv cameras

Which sounds creepy now that I say that but I promise Im not like that!!

sorry

Also it took a crazy long time to get your pattern 

Like literal weeks

So you don’t have to worry about anyone else doing what I did

Well that was slightly worrying. Every good underground hero knew to vary their patrols so the criminals and villains wouldn’t know when to expect them. It was different for limelight heroes, they had regular patrol schedules and routes specifically because their presence would deter crime from happening. Shota relied on the element of surprise to catch his prey, using the shadows to catch criminals unawares.

EraserHead: So you stalked me. 

Why?

?????: It wasnt stalking!!!

It was research!

I needed to know wher you’d be so i could send the tips your way

The bigger crimes that the police can’t handle at least

I still send the smaller stuff to them

EraserHead: So you’re also the anonymous reporter the police have been getting tips from?

Why did you change from telling them to telling me?

??????: Maybe…

I had to tell a hero because the cops werent taking me serious

Multiple times my tips got down-coded

And it lead to the detective getting hurt

I coudlnt let that happen again

Someone getting hurt cause of me

It seemed that every question Shota got answered only created more questions again. He couldn’t figure out why the texter was responding so much either. Maybe he caught them at a good time, or maybe they were just more willing to reply when he wasn’t directly asking for their identity. For the most part they seemed open about their motives at least.

Judging by their messages Shota could tell it was someone under 50, perhaps even his age or younger. The multiple typos, lack of punctuation, and general vibe all pointed to someone in a newer generation. The hero grabbed a notepad and wrote down his opinions quickly before going back to the thread.

EraserHead: What do you know about what happened to Detective Tsukauchi?

There was a decent wait after Shota sent that message. He wondered if the texter was hesitating to reply or was just busy. Taking the break in messages as a chance he decided to make himself a cup of coffee, carefully getting out of bed without waking his sleeping husband. He knew Hizashi would be up in a couple of hours to get ready for teaching and the last thing Shota wanted to do was impede the mans sleep. Gods knew they both got so little of it as it was. He did take a moment to admire the blond from the doorway, a fond smile creeping up when a sleepy arm stole the pillow he’d just been laying against and tucked it to the mans chest. His Sunshine was too cute sometimes.

The kitchen was quiet in the dark of the early morning, even the cats still asleep. Shota wished he could join them but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep while waiting for his reply. Making a pot of coffee and then his own large mug of it was a soothing ritual, a rare moment of pure peace, and Shota savoured it. Before long he had his mug and was curled up in the lone armchair of the apartment. Lovingly called the Cat Chair it was positioned to get the most light from the large balcony windows and Shota knew once the sun fully appeared he’d be in the perfect basking spot.

It seemed his timing was perfect, as right after he’d tucked the blanket around his legs his phone chimed again.

??????: Sorry, was busy

It was my fault. What happened to him

I saw Matsubara trying to rob that atm and put in a tip

The dispatcher didn’t believe me and put it in the wrong code

I didn’t mean for trench-coat to get hurt

Im sorry

EraserHead: Do you know who healed him?

??????: A friend

I called in a favour

And now Shota was worried again. Multiple apologies in one message string, and then that non-answer. He could tell that no matter how much he probed on the supposed friend he wouldn’t be getting any more information. Honestly he didn’t mind that much, someone using their quirk illegally to heal another wasn’t very high on his list of crimes he’s willing to punish. Even if he did know who it was he wouldn’t say anything probably, maybe he’d even offer to get them in contact with Recovery Girl. Chiyo could definitely use a helping hand healing the students of UA and would know the dangers of having a healing quirk.

EraserHead: Thank you for saving him

There was no reply after that, but Shota decided to let the conversation die. He didn’t want to risk asking too much and pushing the texter into silence. Not only were the tips they’d sent to the police been helpful in keeping the streets safe, they were also correct in the crimes they’d sent his way being more than the police force could handle regularly.  

What had happened to Naomassa had scared the pro, not as much as it scared the detective. The dispatcher who’d put it in as a lower risk code had been punished, but since no one died they’d kept their job. Nao had gotten away without any physical scars, thanks to that mysterious healer mostly. They’d recovered the knife from Matsubara, a wicked thing over 8 inches long, which still had trace amounts of the detective's blood on it. Doctors speculated, based on the length and location of the injury, it had pierced straight through the mans lung but there was no evidence left. X-rays revealed a small nick of freshly grown bone on one of the ribs but that was it. 

Shota knew his detective friend wanted answers for what had happened to him so he took screenshots of his thread with the mysterious texter and sent them on. He didn’t share any of his thoughts, wanting to see what the detective thought as they built up the profile

Checking his phone's clock he saw there was just over half an hour until his better half would be waking up to start the day. He was in a good enough mood thanks to getting at least some answers so the dark haired man decided to pass it on to his husband with some breakfast. Contrary to popular belief, Nemuri, Shota could in fact cook. He wasn’t a gourmet chef by any means, but he’d lived as a ward of UA for his final two years and no ward escaped learning to cook from Lunch Rush. Most of the time he didn’t feel like putting in the effort when his jelly pouches had the same nutrients but for Hizashi it was always worth it.

It didn’t take much time for Shota to have breakfast ready, simple fried eggs, bacon, and some toast in regard to his husband's western preferences. Like clockwork the sounds of a stumbling sleepy blond could be heard through the apartment, footfalls perhaps louder than others would be due to the man’s profound deafness. Shota watched with soft adoration as his Sunshine shuffled to the breakfast bar, slumping onto one of the stools. Another common belief was that of the two of them Hizashi was the morning person and Shota the grump, when in reality it was the opposite. Shota only really used his energy when on patrol and never needed much sleep and what little he did need he could get by napping throughout the day while Hizashi was high energy for all 3 of his jobs and only rested at home.

Love was too paltry of a word to describe what Shota felt for this wonderful man as he watched him drain his first cup of black coffee and blink awake, looking pleasantly surprised by the plated food in front of him.

“Thank you Moonbeam” The sign language was a bit mumbled with his sleepy hands but the adoration in his eyes made the impromptu chef blush faintly and look away. It was a secret shared between the two that Shota loved mornings like this, where Hizashi hadn’t put his hearing aids in yet and had to rely on his hands and naturally expressive tendencies to communicate while still blinking the sleep from his eyes. Somehow everything he said was oozing enough sweetness to give a dentist cavities.

It took the remainder of breakfast for the blond to fully wake and Shota was rewarded with a kiss to his temple before the other man wandered into the bathroom. This random breakfast was a break from their usual morning routine, where Hizashi was the first to wake and Shota only woke a few minutes before they had to leave for UA. Breakfast on those days was usually a jelly pack for one and whatever leftovers there were in the fridge for the other.

The dishes were quickly thrown into the dishwasher as Shota heard the shower start up and decided he’d brave the scalding hot water Hizashi preferred and shower with his husband. To save water of course.

They might have been running slightly late out the door, but it was worth it for the smiles both of them sported.

“So what’s got you in such a good mood this morning Moonbeam?” Hizashi asked as he skillfully merged with traffic, tucking a slightly damp strand of hair behind one ear. He wouldn’t put his hair into the classic Present Mic coif until after they got to the school. It didn’t fit in the car. While Shota could drive, and had never been in an accident he’d like to add, Hizashi was the one who actually followed all the rules of the road and didn’t curse out other drivers so he was the one in charge of getting them both to work. 

“I got some answers from that anonymous texter. Enough to start a profile on them at least.” His answer was gruff but not rude. There was a total number of words Shota was willing to speak in a single day and most of them were used speaking to his husband.

“Oh! The listener who’s been sending in tips to the cops for, what, 5 months now?” While Hizashi wasn’t really involved in the burgeoning case he had been sent to a villain attack based on one of the tips. That and Shota like to use him as a sounding board for ideas and only really held back the most classified or dark things about any of his cases. 

“Yeah. They admitted to stalking me on cameras to find my patrol routes so they could send the crimes too dangerous for the police to handle to me instead.” Shota didn’t care really if they coached it as ‘research’ or whatever, to him it was stalking. Cyber stalking maybe.

“Well that’s not ideal. Trying to prevent what happened to Nao to happen again I guess? What’s he got to say about it?” It really told of how in sync they were for Hizashi to know Shota had already sent the messages to the detective. Shota took a moment to be smitten with his brilliant husband before he answered.

“Dunno. Haven’t checked for his reply yet.” Even as he spoke he was pulling out his phone, taking note of the multiple notifications from the good detective.

Tsukauchi: Every answer they gave only made more questions.

Using cctv to stalk you? That must have taken them a long time.

Even I dont really know your routes

They sound young. Our generation maybe? 

Trench-coat? But they know my name?

Wish they’d say more on what happened to me. All I remember is green.

I wonder how much that favour cost them

They seem honest, respectful even

Seems like they blame themself for my attack, odd

Its not their fault the dispatcher didn’t do their job

So far I’d say trustworthy? They havent led anyone into a trap yet

How they’re getting the info on crimes?

I’d say cctv as well but maybe something else

We should try to bring them in to do this legally

Might take time to build the trust though.

Also, good morning

You’re up early.

Say good morning to Mic for me

Well that certainly was a wall of messages. All from when they were in the shower so it was no wonder why he didn’t notice until now.

“He says good morning.” Shota told his husband, typing out his own reply before the blond could even respond.

AizawaHead: He says good morning back.

“Tell Nao I say good morning too!” The radio host sing-songed, pleased to be thought of.

AizawaHead: Those were my thoughts too.

Seems trustworthy so far.

I’ll still be sending my location to you for all their tips.

Tsukauchi: As you should.

This is good info, I’ll add it to the profile.

I talked to the tech guys about my attack too.

The whole thing was caught on cctv, but a couple minutes after i went down there was a time skip.

About 10 minutes of footage was wiped. No chance of recovery.

Even a private camera across the street was wiped.

Have fun at work. Try not to traumatize the children.

The replies came in quickly, as was usual for the detective when he was at his desk. Since they were at the school Shota just sent back a cat emoji as he got out of the car and handed the phone to his better half. He knew the slightly taller man would read it on the walk inside and have his own opinions to share and he couldn’t wait to hear them.

Chapter Text

A whole month. It took Izuku over thirty days to complete his facial tracking software. One whole moon cycle of not sleeping and only eating to get his energy back. On a side note he had managed to save up enough money from the monthly insurance allowance to get his new laptop, so his programs were running a whole lot smoother than before. He was still saving up for a tablet to be a bit more portable but a win was a win.

Once the grueling hours of coding and bug checking were done Izuku decided to run the first live test. Taking a couple quick selfies at different angles he uploaded them into the program and then let it run. He’d thought about using Eraser as a test subject, since he already knew the mans basic route, but realized that since the hero was mostly on rooftops without camera access for his patrols the only info he’d be getting would be on his personal life activities, and he really didn’t want to cross that personal boundary. 

Now that his WatchDog, permanent name still pending, was running Izuku took a moment to stretch before he started wandering down the parkade. He’d spent the entire month in his lair, aside from one excursion to get more food for the glaring, so he knew he’d need to go for a walk to give his program something to look through. As it was right now it could only go by current camera feeds but he had plans to make it comb through previous footage on a selected camera at a later date. For now though it was time for a stroll while he hoped his program found and followed him.

Luckily it was mid afternoon on a Sunday, so the preteen was able to slip into the pedestrian traffic with minimal effort. No one would care about a boy going for a walk on a nice spring day. It was still a bit chilly but his hoodie was more than enough to keep him warm as he wandered. He took careful note of the route he was taking so he’d be able to know where the program lost him, if it did, but he also took his turns at random based on the first person he saw at whatever crossroad he came up to. Male presenting he turned left, female presenting he turned right, and if they were androgynous he kept going straight. It did end up with him going in circles a fair few times, but he figured that would help bug test. 

In an even bigger stroke of luck he managed to catch a villain attack after a couple hours of walking and Izuku was seriously thinking about ways to buy himself a lottery ticket when he saw Ms. Joke was one of the heroes on scene. Knowing him though his luck wouldn’t hold until he was of legal age, so he scrapped that plan and focused on the fight instead. 

It was a bit earlier in the evening than he expected to see the twilight hero but Izuku wasn’t going to complain about that. This would be a serious boon on helping him track Jokes movements and figuring out her patrol. Plus he got to see her fight in person and get a feel on what she could handle. Judging by the way she threw the villain over her shoulder while still smiling he figured that answer would be a lot. Thankfully he carried his notebook everywhere.

Her fighting style was much different from Erasers, going in for hard punches while her opponents were distracted by the laughing her quirk caused. Seriously, the upper body strength the woman displayed with her hits was not something Izuku ever wanted to be on the receiving end of. She also spent most of her time on the ground, her stance solid as she danced around hits, as opposed to Erasers more acrobatic movements. Eraser also seemed to rely more on his capture weapon to throw opponents around and then his legs to do heavy kicks or knee hits where Joke stuck to punches and kicks with her reinforced gloves or boots. 

Even against multiple opponents she had the fight wrapped up fairly quickly, and with minimal property damage. Only one window had been broken, and that was the result of one of the thugs' missed quirk attacks, not Jokes fault. Those results further boosted the hero in Izukus esteem, cementing his decision to have her as one of his on-call heroes. Which sounded pretentious but honestly he couldn’t think of a better term for it. Roster maybe? Meh, semantics could be figured out later. For now the young boy hung around the sidelines waiting for a chance, and then when the green haired woman took some time to greet the other spectators he snuck forward with his trusty book and got another autograph for his collection. He might be a pseudo vigilante hacker but he was still a hero fanboy and there was no way he was letting this opportunity go to waste.

Autograph and hair ruffle received, she said we match!, Izuku began the trek back to his parkade. It went by quicker than before as he was making a mostly straight path and not the winding circuitous one of earlier. At a light jog it took him under half an hour to be back at the familiar cement structure and no one noticed as he slipped through the broken fence and made his way up. A moment or five was spared to pet some of the more friendly feral cats, they had begun to warm up to his presence and would graciously allow him a few pats. He treasured their trust.

The laptop was where he’d left it, scrolling through different camera feeds trying to find his face again. With a few deft clicks he pulled up the storage for recorded footage and was happy to find a new folder there. A video had been compiled nicely, made of clips of every time he appeared on camera. It was a bit weird to see it hopping between perspectives, and there was a couple of stretches where it seemed he didn’t have access to the cameras on the route yet. He’d have to fix that later. Another file in the folder was a map that had geo-tagged the camera locations every time he appeared on them, time stamped for the moment the program saw him with a faint green line connecting each dot to show the route. All in all the program worked perfectly, and Izuku felt a warm rush of pride. He did this.

After taking a moment to bask in his success Izuku grabbed a snack from his small horde of ‘treat’ type foods. For most of his meals he stuck to canned goods, simple things he didn’t have to bother to heat up and could slurp down while he worked, but when he needed the dopamine boost or felt he deserved a reward he had a few bags of chips, some chocolate bars, and even a bit of jerky. Today he grabbed a bag of nori shio flavoured chips as his reward and settled in to run the program again, this time with photos of Ms. Joke. He made sure to include a few full body shots, as her distinct hero uniform would be easy for the program to recognize and track. Certainly much easier than his own hoodie and shorts had been.

Once WatchDog was running Izuku switched tabs to his discord, which he was only now realizing he’d been completely neglecting this past month. Oops.

WheresMyBell: Ok but why does english need to be like it do

Theres like 5 words that sound the same

But are spelt different 

And mean different things

ScanComplete: To fuck with us

Obvs

BandaidBaby: Obvs

Number2IsPoo: Baby!!

@everyone baby is alive

BandaidBaby: Oh no

Okay, so maybe going a month without checking the discord wasn’t a good idea. There had been a couple times where previous members went silent only for mods to do an announcement saying they weren’t alive anymore. Worse was when no announcement was made, their fate left unknown.  It was one of Izuku’s greatest fears, that at some point his friends would send a final message and he’d never know. He can’t believe he’d caused that fear in them. At least they were in the text channel dedicated to this friend group and not general chat. 

WheresMyBell: He lives!

AttemptedMurder: arisen from the depths

SleepIsForTheSane: more like sent back from heaven cause he sweet talked the angels

pulled the puppy eyes on them or smth

ScanComplete: you’re just salty cause you know you’d be going down

Welcome back Baby

IllJumpYou: Baby! What the fuck dude?!?!

Where the hell did you go?

AGrizzly: It is good to hear from you again Baby. I must admit there was some worry about your health.

BandaidBaby: I’m sorry! 

(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Wow, Grizzly was one of the mods. They barely ever spoke in chat, preferring to lurk and send kaomojis, only replying to direct questions. He must have really worried them all for Grizzly to send two complete sentences.

ISreamForAnything: BABY!!

YOURE HERE

I WAS SO WORRIED

WHERE DID YOU GO?

ARE YOU OKAY?

DoYouSmellThat: stop yelling!

BABY!

WE MISSED YOU!

IScreamForAnything: wow

LaughTracks: Baby! You’ve never been gone that long without a warning!

SleepIsForTheSane: gangs all here huh

explain yourself young man

BandaidBaby: aaaaaaaah!

I’m sorry!

I had a project!

And I got in the zone!

And then it was a month! 

I didn’t mean to worry everyone!

q(╥﹏╥)p

IllJumpYou: Aren’t you working now Laugh?

LaughTracks: I’m on break!

DoYouSmellThat: Were you on break before the @?

IScreamForAnything: We were very worried!

But we’re so glad you’re okay!

LaughTracks: Wow called out 

We’re here to call out Baby, not me!

SleepIsForTheSane: had me checking the obits dude

irl too

the worry was real

There was a channel dedicated to past members who weren’t alive anymore. The obituaries were all locked so no one but a mod could edit them, but anyone could post stories and memories about the lost friends. It was also the only time real names were allowed to be known, since too many of them were reduced to their quirk by the media. Unfortunately, with the whole point of this discord being for those who were marginalized because of their quirks or lack thereof, losing members was a very real issue. This specific friend group, dubbed the ‘Chaotic Mess’ from a vote a few years back, had never lost a member but it was a constant worry. There was also an unspoken promise to never cause that grief.

ScanComplete: like they’d put his handle in the obits

SleepIsForTheSane: im putting mine on my tombstone

WheresMyBell: Bet

BandaidBaby: You could change it to “SleepIsForTheDead” then

SleepIsForTheSane: (☛☬ਓ☬)☛

Number2IsPoo: dislike

ScanComplete: Dislike

AttemptedMurder: A sin upon our eyes sent from the abyss

Dislike

IllJumpYou: what the fuck is that 

IllScreamForAnything: dislike

DoYouSmellThat: Wait was that Grizzly up there?!

AGrizzly: ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

DoYouSmellThat: *fear*

IScreamForAnything: *fear!!*

BandaidBaby: ! cute!

I’m stealing that

IScreamForAnything: *FEAR*

IllJumpYou: HA!

But you’re good now Baby? 

BandaidBaby: Yes! My project is done!

Movies make coding seem so easy

I swear my brain was melting

SleepIsForTheSane: swearing?

in my christian minecraft server?

BandaidBaby: I promise*

WheresMyBell: acceptable

IScreamForAnything: We’re glad you’re okay!

But please

Next time you have a big project give us a warning

My poor heart can’t take it

LaughTracks: Heart troubles in your old age?

DoYouSmellThat: Poor thing

IScreamForAnything: You’re like 2 years younger than me!

And you’re older than me!!

DoYouSmellThat: Age is a state of mind

ScanComplete: I kinda want to play minecraft now

Number2IsPoo: ooh same!

BandaidBaby: Is the server world still up?

I wouldn’t mind playing

Really he should probably be doing a digital patrol again, since it had also been a month-long hiatus of not sending in tips to the police or EraserHead. Speaking of, he did have an unread message from the man. But the chance of relaxing and playing a silly game with his friends was too tempting to pass up. Tomorrow he’d watch the cameras again. 

AGrizzly: It is! Freshly wiped.

WheresMyBell: Bet

SleepIsForTheSane: ditch the old folks to go play?

IScreamForAnything: WHAT!

I WANT TO PLAY

LaughTracks: No fair!

BandaidBaby: We should build our bases close together!

Then we can help eachother out!

Oh what if they match!!

AttemptedMurder: So bright

SleepIsForTheSane: it burns

WheresMyBell: Be there or be not square

IScreamForAnything: Yay!

LaughTracks: Rude!