Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was perhaps a bit silly how Izuku Midoriya came to be in a situation like this.  Bound by a pro-hero’s capture weapon and hanging a few meters in the air in some random alley. 

Cursed to have a bad time every time he went out. But then again it was either that or throwing himself into traffic hoping that no one would stand around long enough for his quirk to kick in. He wasn’t sure how people would respond to him coming back from the dead. It hadn’t gone well each time that happened. 

“What are you doing, stealing, kid,” The hero, Eraserhead, tightened the cloth around him. Izuku winced. It was not pleasant to be hanging upside down, blood rushing to his brain while his lungs felt like they were being squeezed together. He was fairly certain that a thug he pissed off earlier managed to crack one of his ribs if the weird shifting and pain under his skin was anything to go by. 

It’s not like he was actually stealing anything so this response was a bit unjustified. 

To be short and frank he was just trying to get a sandwich after pulling an all-nighter. Simple as that, no ulterior motive or anything. He even paid for it. This was saying a lot as he didn’t have much money nowadays, but he didn’t want to steal when he didn’t need to. And yet here he was. 

Though it wasn’t like he was truly innocent here, he didn’t steal but he for sure caused a minor traffic accident. One that he may or may not have almost died in. Evaded questioning and kicked another hero to rush away. Straight into Eraserhead's clutches. 

But then again he didn’t deliberately disrupt the peace, he was just running away from the thug who decided that he wanted revenge for something Izuku was sure he didn’t do. It wasn’t like he remembered every guy he pissed off. He did though. He absolutely did. It was bad to forget the people who were mad at you where you were just a scrawny kid with nothing to your name. 

On the other hand, he didn’t know how he was going to get out of this situation. It wasn’t his plan. He didn’t have his trusty knife on himself either. He was alone. And the nearing police sirens did nothing to ease his nerves and let him think about how to get out of this.

It would be quite ridiculous to go down so easily. 

“Oh you know Eraserhead, getting those nutrients inside me and what not,” He flashed a smile to the hero although he doubted the hero could see it under his mask that miraculously stayed on during the whole thing. He could thank whoever was looking after him at least for this one. He wasn't sure Eraserhead could figure out who he was just by his face, especially when his hair was dyed, fading contacts in his eyes. If Tsukauchi hadn’t, Eraserhead would be less likely to do so. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to partake in crime when a hero could so easily spot him and the next thing he knew he’d have Tsukauchi knocking on his door. Especially if he was getting spotted by an underground hero who was notorious for getting kids off the streets. Izuku wasn’t sure what happened to them but he didn’t want to find out. He doubted he would be able to continue his vigilantism slash villain work that way. 

“So you’re saying that you were at the store just to steal some food, kid?” Eraserhead narrowed his eyes at him, eyes flashing red. Izuku felt the ache in his body flare up. Slight panic rose up in his chest- reminding him how it had hurt before his quirk had come in. 

“I actually paid for my sandwich Eraser. Don’t sell me so low, now would you?” He wiggled in the bindings. The chance of him getting away was starting to slim the longer he dangled. He kind of regretted flipping off Dabi a few hours earlier to hang out. Surprisingly barely an adult with pyromania was a good getaway. Even if the smell of burnt flesh was too strong for his taste. 

“So all the other things you’ve done are totally not you kid and you’re innocent like any other middle school kid I’ve come across?” Eraserhead leaned against the alley wall staring up at him. Izuku raised his eyebrow, he didn’t like that he knew that he was still in middle school not that he attended it much though, he kept up his grade just enough not to be thrown out. 

“And what would be those things Eraser? Because let me tell you about the warehouse fire yesterday. Totally not me,” Technically he was the one to instigate setting the place on fire but hey, he didn’t have the fire quirk that did it. Dabi was all too eager to do it for him.

“Warehouse fire?” Eraser raised his eyebrow and Izuku swore he sometimes should keep his mouth shut. 

“Language kid,” He clutched his capture cloth and started letting him down but before he reached the ground he stopped. Izuku pouted. He wiggled some more and gasped as the sandwich that he had put in his pocket when a thug tried to catch him off guard fell to the floor. At least it was still wrapped. 

He felt his quirk come back in. Was Eraserhead not counting him as a threat?

“Not gonna let me down? How mean of you,” Izuku saw the man’s eye twitch and smiled to himself. 

“Letting go of a kid who causes trouble every other night? Yeah right,” Eraserhead let out a small snort adjusting his binding, halting Izuku from his wiggling. Did the hero notice what he was doing? 

“I’ll let you know the last five budding cases of drug dealing were disputed by yours truly, so you should at least give me some credit, I’m not that bad you know,” Izuku smiled. 

Yeah, that’s what he did. Trying to be a hero while hanging out with some shady dudes who couldn’t care less about other people. Thrown between the titles of villain and vigilante by the police. He wasn’t sure which one fit, but it was surely not a hero. He couldn’t be one. Not like this. 

“As a citizen, I have to thank you but as a hero, I should report you to the police right this instant,” Eraserhead sighed and Izuku knew he was right though he couldn’t quite understand the man. 

“Then why haven’t you?” Izuku wiggled some more. He felt the part over his wrist come loose, good he should keep talking. 

“You’re an interesting kid and definitely know what you’re doing in some ways, but that doesn't mean you can keep doing that. One day you’ll get killed-”

Izuku burst out laughing, startling the hero. “I’m sorry- I just,” He tried to stop his cackling but damn it, it was so funny. Him dying? He hadn’t heard a funnier joke ever. 

He’s heard that many times. By thugs who thought they could take him down and by people who kind of cared for him. And he had died as well. Not as Izuku but as a villain, as Yami. 

Hearing that he would get killed was so amusing. He knew that. He’s seen people die because they made one wrong move. Heck. Izuku had made that wrong move but for him, it only meant two more hours to his non-existent sleep schedule. 

“What the hell kid,” Eraserhead stared at him as Izuku kept laughing, tears almost springing to his eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry but that was a good joke Eraser, I didn’t know you cared,” Izuku tried not to giggle but his voice betrayed him. Eraserhead hardened his gaze instead at something he said and Izuku kept his giggles at bay. 

“You’re a kid, why shouldn’t I care?” He said instead and Izuku bit his lip. Yeah right.

“Oh, I don’t know because I am a villain? You totally don’t care when the person is over eighteen and pickpockets someone. Me? I’ve done some pretty fucked up shit but you wanna help me, pretty hypocritical of you, don’t you think?” He grunted out. It was stupid but it was unfair how society was constructed. He wasn't the only one running around trying to do some good. Because society wronged people and thought of them as lesser. But since he was a kid and suddenly it meant he had a second chance at redemption? What the fuck. 

Instead of acknowledging his outburst, Eraserhead clicked his tongue.

“What’s your name?” 

“Why do you wanna know?” Izuku met the hero's glare and sighed. Fine if he wanted to do it that way. 

“It’s Akatani, but not like you’ll find me in the database anyway,” He wiggled again. If he had a proper distraction he could maybe slip away- damn it Dabi where was he?

“Because it’s a fake name and you’re trying to pull my nose?” Izuku smiled, shaking his head, catching a glint of something blue. Ah, finally. 

“No,” He leaned back trying to straighten himself in the capture tape. 

“Because I’m dead,” He laughed as blue fire separated them and the moment it died down Izuku was running down another alley as far as he could from the hero, clutching his singed arm. 

His feet hit the pavement until a second pair of shoes joined him, he sprang to the side, heart catching in his throat thinking it was the hero. But Dabi’s blue flames appeared in his vision instead. 

“Your aim is shit,” He said as Dabi pulled him up to a window he couldn’t quite reach and led him away from the scene. 

“Yeah well stop trying to rile Eraserhead every time you meet him,”

“But it’s so much fun,” Izuku smiled. 

“You have problems,” Dabi whispered. Izuku laughed, reaching into his pocket and ignoring the burn on his arm, it would be healed anyway. No use trying to keep infection away and waste medical products. 

Wait, he checked her other pocket. It wasn’t there.  

“My sandwich,” Izuku groaned, remembering how it fell on the ground. Fuck him.  

Chapter Text

Aizawa sighed, dropping a package full of papers, along with a paper cup of coffee. The last night's reports on all the low life he’d knocked down, staring back at him and mocking his dry eye. 

It was a tedious task he was not looking forward to. He’d rather go home and curl up in his bed with Hizashi and hope the demon spawn of a cat didn’t wake them up for a few more hours. As rare of an occurrence as it was, Aizawa would be glad to have a few minutes of peace curled up in his bed with his husband. 

“Tough night?” Tsukauchi only slightly looked up from his own stack, precisely ten spreads of papers on property damage because a store owner thought it was a great idea to hold all of his most valuable items outside of the store and right in the path of a chase. Albeit no one could have predicted the said chase. 

And yet how did the owner come to that fucking idea Aizawa had no idea. Who the fuck puts all the valuables on the display when they can be so easily knocked over? They live in a world where every guy can have a stupid strength quirk and ‘accidentally’ knock something over. 

“I met the kid,” He dragged the coffee cup he took with him and took a large sip. Aizawa hadn't slept for the past thirty-six hours and he was regretting all of his life choices. From his morning paper grading to his evening patrol that stretched into the night, then into the morning as the kid, a local troublemaker decided to appear. 

Although from what he gathered the kid didn't mean to cause any trouble but he still did it so Aizawa was pissed. Not at the kid, no he could never. The kid did get on his nerves, but he was more entertaining than anything. The rest of the people thought? Oh, they better not cross his path or they would pay. 

Never the kid though. Never him. 

“Yami?” Aizawa took another sip, nodding along. Yami was one of the most famous vigilantes in Musutafu. Especially in the police station. Giving more paperwork than anyone. More than a kid should. 

“That little guy will give me a migraine that will last for life. A problem kid that’s who he is,” Tsukauchi grinned as Aizawa snorted. Yami was truly troublesome and worrisome. 

He leaned in his chair looking at the stack of papers in front of him and grimaced. He entertained the idea of not doing anything right now and letting Tsukauchi deal with the paperwork. Yeah, that idea seemed way too appealing in his book, but the gracious heart of a hero had him rubbing his forehead and taking hold of the first page of the stack. 

“He definitely is one,” He mumbled, grabbing a pen and setting down his cup. Better get over it and go back home. 

The door opening and closing, as a cold gust of wind met Aizawa's back, had him groaning.  He hated how stuffed the police stations were, especially in the morning as more people came in and the city started moving. The quietness of the station disappeared soon after. 

“So what happened?” Tsukauchi dropped his own pen, deciding not to work as Aizawa started. He tapped his fingers on the desk, leaning back. Aizawa felt his eye twitch at the small smirk that bloomed on the man's face. God, he hated police officers. 

“Do you want a formal report or-” Tuskauchi shook his head. 

“Telling how you failed to capture him is utterly fine Eraserhead. No need to tarnish your golden reputation,” Aizawa snorted. Yeah, sure, he definitely broke his own protocol tonight. But that was only because he wanted to get some information out of the boy. 

Perhaps that could have been achieved during a proper interrogation but something prompted him to do it beforehand in a more informal setting so to speak. Aizawa knew it was very unprofessional but it was rare he came upon children like him. 

One’s that were crazy enough to do the stuff the kid did on an almost daily basis. His alarm bells had gone off every time he heard whispers of the problem child running rampant. 

“He’s a smart ass,” Aizawa sighed, dropping his work. He knew it would not go on if they kept talking about the problem child. 

He was classified as weird in Aizawa's book. He had dealt with smart-ass kids before. They were all the same. Some just play stupid but some, like the kid, some had some weight to their words. 

It's not like the kid was spewing anything revolutionary that he had never heard before but the way he held himself, the way he talked was just worrying to Aizawa. He talked like he had gone through shit to be where he was and that bothered the hero. He wanted to help but he wasn’t sure how. After all, the kid was still a criminal, still a wanted villain for many robberies, arson and many more little things that added up. Even if he did good there was still bad behind him. Good and bad fighting inside of him, keeping him just on the line. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Tsukauchi sighed and Aizawa smirked. He could. 

“His name is Akatani,” Tsukauchi stopped to stare at the man. Aizawa smiled while taking a sip of his coffee again. 

“Though if it’s his real name that’s questionable,” Aizawa licked his lips as Tsukauchi clicked away on his computer straightening in his chair no longer lounging back. His face turned as his eyes jumped all over the screen.  

“There’s three Akatanis in all of Japan from the age of ten to fifteen, although only one of them in our area, age should be thirteen, birthday May 15th, though-, He paused, glancing at Aizawa and sighing. 

“The reports say he’s dead,” Ah. Right. That’s what the kid- Akatani said. Aizawa couldn’t figure out what he meant by that. If the reports say he’s dead then what he’s doing running around the streets? Or maybe that wasn’t even Akatani but just some random kid taking his name for shits and giggles. 

“Yeah, that's what the problem child told me,” Tsukauchi turned the computer screen scrolling to the database of the kid, finger pointing to the cause of death. Aizawa tore his eyes away from the screen. 

Suicide.

Nothing unheard of but still extremely unpleasant to look at. 

He’s been working with kids at UA for the past seven years, so every time he heard of a kid taking their own life he felt he had failed them in one way or another. And surely as a hero, he had because there shouldn’t be kids driven by society or those around them to drastic measures. He hoped the problem child had just taken the name and wasn’t actually faking his death with suicide. 

“What’s the kid supposed to look like?” Not looking at the screen he let Tsukauchi list off the appearance, sighing when it matched up. “Black hair, red eyes, some freckles, small build,”

“So the kids- Akatani-?” 

“Mikumo,” Tsukauchi added and shrugged. 

“It’s not impossible to fake one’s death especially with suicide but for a thirteen-year-old kid? What would have prompted him?” Aizawa shook his head, tapping his coffee cup. Nothing good that’s for sure. 

“He’s also quirkless, so there’s that,” Aizawa shifted in his seat and rubbed his forehead. He really shouldn’t be dealing with this with minimal sleep. He knew qurikless suicide stats were bad but hearing about another death every time just choked him up. Another kid lost to the stupid society. Another kid who thought they weren’t seen or needed in this world. 

Aizawa despised the way society had shifted from one problematic mindset to another. It’s like they forgot that a mere 200 years ago quirkless was considered the norm. Aizawa himself, for the lack of better words, fought quirkless. Sure he had a quirk but it only allowed him to put himself into a position on par with another being, basically reducing them to just raw strength and fighting experience. Or as those around them would say - quirkless.

It made no sense to him how he was glorified because he had that quirk gene no matter what it did but those who didn’t just get pushed to suicide and no one batted an eye at that. On the contrary, they encouraged it and it made Aizawa sick.

Aizawa gripped his cup staring ahead. If the problem child was really Akatani he hoped he had people to rely on. If needed, Aizawa would become that person. 

“I have a proposal,” Tsukauchi tapped the desk with his fingers again drawing Aizawa out of his thoughts. The air was heavy between them.

“Hit me,”

“You go out and try to befriend him,” Aizawa hissed. Oh no.  

“Detective, do I look like I have time to run around after a kid, who, by the looks of it, is already dead and doesn't want to be found?” Okay, he was contradicting everything he thought of before but he had good reasons for that, right? 

One he knew he would get attached and would not let go of the problem child. Two he really didn’t have time. Three, well, he was afraid the kid would backstab him and let Aizawa bear the guilt of failing yet another member of the youth who so blindly trusted him to keep them safe. 

“My security camera reports say that Eraserhead, a hero who doesn’t give a shit who he’s facing and does not in fact make small talk, but immediately notifies the police force, spent ten minutes having a nice conversation with local vigilante Yami this morning at 5,” Tsukauchi hummed before Aizawa could open his mouth to argue as to why it was a bad idea. It still was a bad idea no matter how he looked at it because kids like him were dangerous to everyone around and to themselves. 

“So tell me, will you do it?” Tsukauchi leaned with a shit-eating grin on his face because he knew he had won and Aizawa had nothing more to do than groan and nod. Because yeah he would. Akatani might be dangerous but he still was a kid and no matter what he said he always got attached way too fast. 

And the Problem child just screaming to adopt him. A red sign on his head, with calls for help heard from miles away calling for Aizawas attention. 

“Detective if this blows up in my face I want months worth of coffee on my table,” Tsukauchi just laughed. Aizawa really hated the police force. 

If Izuku could dub this as his worst day in school he wholeheartedly could. But then again this was the worst day in the history of his life. No really. The sandwich misery that happened just yesterday? No scratch that, that was nothing but a breeze in the park. 

He wasn’t excited to have another suicide bait on his head. Nor was he ready to meet the number one hero, then try to save his stupid bully from being killed and then meet Eraserhead for the second time in a little bit over twenty-four hours.

It was too much. Even for him.

He needed more coffee for this shit that he had the ability to get. He really should invest in some form of a proper coffee machine at home. Store-bought drinks just didn’t give the needed kick to deal with the world. Or himself for that matter. 

It shouldn't come to him as a surprise that Kacchan was still a little shit. But every time something happened, he was still surprised at his own stupidity that Kacchan could be better.

He somehow believed that the guy could change. But that was a lost cause every time he opened his mouth or turned against him. A sneer on his lips as he beat down the quirkless kid of the class to assert dominance. 

You see how stupid it sounded? 

Not that Izuku would tell Kacchan that because he would rather not have his shit blown up. He may heal but his notes didn't. He was not willing to rewrite his notebooks because Kacchan slipped and used his quirk on them accidentally. 

Again.

But then the teacher had to call him out again, saying that he wanted to go into UA the same as Kacchan. Not that he didn’t want to but every day that dream just kinda got further away from him. Not because he thought he couldn’t do it, no. He was sure he could get into Gen ed. pretty easily but it was just that. 

Their society was rotten and the hero world even much more. He didn’t want to clamber under hero society like some bug. Although the temptation to take down the system from inside seemed so appealing. But then again he wanted to just live his life and not worry about some shitty heroes and whatnot. 

And anyway, Kacchan had made it clear that day too that he just shouldn’t stand in his way. Though he was sure he was far behind Kacchan to even stand beside him, Kacchan's brain worked differently from his and he once again decided to blast his notes. Ha, fun. 

“Kacchan, stop,” He said but the boy didn’t hear and threw the notes out of the window. The first time he’d done that. Izuku gasped, he knew there was the koi pond and knowing his luck it most definitely landed in the water. 

“Listen here you nerd, I’m gonna give you some advice,” He reared, putting his hand on his shoulder, his quirk activating. Izuku gulped a searing pair running up his shoulder. Kacchan had put his hand just where Dabi accidentally singed him. 

Sure it healed but scars stay you know? And they hurt. Hurt so bad Izuku felt tears welling up in his eyes. He might heal but he isn't immune to pain, not when Kacchan was burning his shoulder like nothing. It was pitiful that after all these years he was still affected by every hit, every burn despite all the shit he’d gone through. 

“Listen closely, Deku,” He pulled away his hand, smirking and walking away. 

Before exiting the class he turned. “If you want a quirk so badly, then take a swan dive off the roof and pray for a quirk in your next life,” And left the classroom. 

It's not the first time he’d been suicide baited. He had some guys put flowers on his desk as if he had died, not that they really knew that he had. But somehow today tears welled in his eyes because yeah it hurt. 

Kacchan was his childhood friend. He was an ass but he still took his time to hang out with him when they were little. When his mom was alive their mothers would meet up and they would be forced to play games on the console together and it had been fun. 

Somewhat.

It’s not the first time Kacchan told him to jump or hope that he didn’t come back one day but - there's always a but and yet he’s not sure what that was. If it was worth clinging to that anymore. 

He rubbed his eyes and sniffled. He was tempted to just go do it right now, prove Kacchan right or wrong whatever it was but the remainder of his soaking notes moved him to walk out of the class and head down and not up. 

It would do no good to jump and cause a scene only to come back probably a few days later and be called weak for giving in. Not that he hadn’t already. There was a reason he discovered his quirk after all. 

His notes were thoroughly soaked and as much as he tried to drain the water up with his jacket it did no good. He would need to rewrite them. He sighed. He had almost finished them as well. 

Taking the longer path home he wandered around. He should hurry back and blow dry the notes but Kacchan lived too close for them not to cross paths. He couldn’t risk it. 

Too bad for him that a villain had taken the same path as him and decided that he was as good a prey as any. 

A sludge-like body jumped from behind him rapidly nearing him and Izuku panicked. He wasn’t good with mutant-type opponents especially when they were made of liquid. He hastily dodged the guy but sludge just moved at him and changed his course without batting an eye. The sludge wrapped around him, entering his mouth and, oh fuck was that disgusting. 

He couldn't breathe, his vision getting blurry. In any other world, he would be panicking and thinking he would die. But here now he- okay he was panicking because the involuntary inability to breathe was frightening and he’d rather not die, he still took it in stride. As well as a fourteen-year-old boy could. Trying to scream with no air in his lungs and clawing at the liquid body of the sludge. Yeah no he wasn’t getting out of this. It was a certain death.

A loud thump was heard from his right side. “Never fear-,” Izuku’s eyes widened. All Might?

“For I am here!” Wind pressure blasted around them and the sludge was ripped away from him. He was pretty sure his healed ribs cracked once more.

Izuku fell down coughing. The thing was nasty. He could barely breathe, his vision blurry and getting darker. He was going to pass out. Shit. He tried to breathe but it was hard when there was still possible liquid in his lungs. He was pretty sure that it would come back to bite him in the ass later. 

“Boy, I am sorry you got caught up in my villain chase,” All Might appeared in front of him as Izuku tried to catch his breath and yeah no it wasn’t happening. He stared at the hero in front of him. All Might’s face swam in his vision distorting the number one hero to something Izuku couldn’t recognise. 

“Huh?” He mumbled before falling to the ground. If that wasn’t embarrassing then he didn’t know what was. 

It could have gone better but hey at least he wasn’t dead. Dabi would have a field day if he died because some stupid sludge villain was taking the tentacle fetish too seriously. 

Izuku groaned, feeling a sharp stab in his cheek. Oh god, that wasn't pleasant at all. He cracked his eyes open and tried to get away. All Might straightened up immediately. 

“Oh you’re awake, good,” He smiled and Izuku nodded, rubbing his chest. It still burned. 

“I must go now. You were brave my boy, but duty calls,” All Might cheered, showing him a thumbs up. Izuku’s world felt like it cracked right then and there.

Really? 

He wasn’t going to check up on him, take him to the hospital? The mandatory things he thought heroes did? Write a police report at the scene for investigation? Izuku may be clueless on a lot of things but this was not it. All Might was pretty much breaking at least several laws and human decency protocols right here. Sure Izuku wasn't a saint himself but god damn. 

He liked All Might. Or he thought he did. Stain would have a field day with the information Izuku told him. Or he would get his head severed for insinuating that All Might could be the definition of ineptitude. 

“Wait,” He called, getting up, clutching his bag. All Might turned to look at him briefly as he prepared to take off. 

“Wait,” Izuku called again. Why was he doing that? He wasn’t sure but his legs moved, hands wrapped around the hero's leg and he took off with him. Wind blasted in his face and oh god he was higher than most buildings in the city. Oh god, what was he thinking? He was going to fall. He was going to plummet to his death. Oh god. 

“Hey, hey what are you doing? Get off, young man!” All Might called gently pushing on his head. Izuku clung harder. 

“If I let go I’ll die” He shouted wind drowning out most of the sound but the hero stopped and signed as if he understood that just now. Izuku gulped. Was this really All Might he thought was the best hero out there? The same All Might who greeted everyone with a smile and gave hope? The same All Might who just totally passed up a kid, one who needed to be checked out? Was he really a hero?

Izuku didn't have time to think about it as they landed on the rooftop. Izuku clutched his chest again. God, it really did burn. He would be lucky if he didn't choke back some sludge at home. He wasn’t keen on drowning because some liquid was left in his lungs. 

“That was irresponsible, young man,” All Might scolded him. Scolded! 

“Says you,” Izuku rasped out. Ah, he shouldn’t have said that. He looked at the hero who narrowed his gaze at him. 

“Well, I must go, young man. You can knock on the door, someone will probably let you in eventually,” Izuku laughed. What? Was he serious? All Might startled at his sudden laugh and oh god did it hurt to laugh but he couldn’t stop. Giggles blazing past his lips like people at the metro during rush hour. 

“Are you serious right now?” Izuku gasped, a coughing fit striking him. Maybe he hit his head and was going crazy because this was so not happening. Was he dead? Was this afterlife, mocking him for his wish to be a hero? One that seemed to dwindle down with each second. 

“Young man?” All Might approached him cautiously though his steps were hesitant. 

“No, no I’m fine,” Izuku jumped to his legs unsure when he had collapsed to his knees. His steps wobbled but he stayed upright. He looked at the hero. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Young man, it might not be the time for questions, you can just leave them on my internet blog-,” 

“The answers are automated and follow a simple code based on keywords, it’s useless to ask anything there, at least it wouldn’t work on my question,” Izuku interrupted the hero who coughed into his hand. Izuku was sure he saw a flash of red but maybe the light was tricking him and he was simply about to black out again. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Young man-,” All Might started but smoke went up between them startling Izuku. What was this? Some kind of an attack? He frantically looked around trying to see someone but to no avail. Looking back at All Might he gasped, hand rushing to cower his mouth. All Might? 

Behind the smoke stood a man, tall, frail and not All Might. “What?” He whispered. Was this some kind of a joke? Was he being pranked?  

“All Might?” He dared to ask. 

“Yeah that’s me, not a pretty sight I know,” He coughed. “ You know those dudes at the pool who push their chest out and pretend to be more muscle than they actually are? Yeah, that’s kinda what I do,” The hero rubbed the back of his neck before coughing again and yeah that was most definitely blood. What the heck? 

“I don't understand,” Izuku whispered. 

“You don’t have to,” All Might slid down the side of the wall and pulled his shirt up. Izuku gulped. That was nasty. 

“A villain put a hole inside of me, left me with missing organs and decreasing power, that's all there is to it,” He pulled his shirt down hiding the atrocious scar, looking anywhere but at Izuku. 

“So you’re a fraud,” 

“You could say that kid,” Izuku pressed his lips. Well, this was interesting. He had been so angry at the hero but the minute he transformed the anger disappeared. Not because what he did was excusable. Not that it was just so very not okay of him. Even if he had limited time he should care for all the injured or potentially injured civilians around. He should have had a proper report on his attack and though Izuku wasn’t keen on his name making an appearance in a police station report; it still had to happen. Technically. 

“What was your question, kid?” All Might asked, now that they had time was implied although the hero didn't say it out loud. 

His question? Maybe two years ago he would have asked if a quirkless kid could become a hero. He’d probably be turned down immediately because it was a stupid dream and a dangerous one at that. Looking at All Might and how the strongest man in Japan could have been injured so easily proved how much danger was out there. Two years ago he still would’ve asked even after seeing this. But now? Him as he was now? After everything he’s been through?

He only had one question in mind. 

“Why- How do you feel about not being able to save everyone?” Save him? Because All Might wasn’t there when he jumped, and jumped again and again, hoping not to get up one day. He was there for him as he said he would be- for everyone. But was he worth it?

And all the other things he did. If it was just one thing he would've forgiven the hero but he had so many chances to pull Izuku out of his misery but he didn’t. And Izuku didn't blame him then because he had no reason to. All Might was busy. Some kid who just discovered his quirk wasn’t on the top of his list. He doubted he’d ever meet All Might in his life if not for the lucky placement but a part of him still hoped. He didn’t blame him but he was angry. 

“I feel,” All Might clenched his fist. 

“I feel sorry because it is my duty as a hero to save people and yet I can’t and it frustrates me because for all the power I have I feel so helpless sometimes,” Izuku nodded. Yeah, he understood that. He knew very well how it was to feel helpless when you knew somewhere the person you loved so much was dying because you ought to make a small mistake. He wasn’t stupid but that anger still swirled inside of him because he just didn’t want to accept that he was one of those people who weren’t lucky enough to be worth saving by some heroes. 

“I see,” He rubbed his eyes. Ah, he was about to cry again. He thought Kacchan had beaten that out of him. 

“I’m sorry kid, sometimes life plays out in certain ways that aren’t in our favor,” All Might added and called out a small goodbye before transforming and leaping off the roof again. Izuku sighed. Yeah, he knew that. 

He knew that the world was unfair. 

He walked up to the side of the roof peering down. Would it take long for him to fall? Though he had his spare uniform on and wasn’t keen on trying to wash out all the blood. He decided that it was not worth it for now. He tried for the door glad to find it unlocked and stepped inside. Small mercies. 

A loud blast startled him as looked outside, seeing smoke from nearby. A villain fight? He had seen a new hero debut this morning but didn't have the time to take proper notes. Maybe they will come back now. He rushed down the stairs hoping he wouldn’t be too late. 

Upon arriving at the scene he was stunned by the large crowd of people and heroes not doing anything. What? 

He peered at people trying to see what was going on. Another massive blast tore through the street and Izuku saw him. 

Kacchan. 

And the sludge villain. 

Hadn’t All Might captured him? Izuku looked around, the heroes were just standing there trying to keep the crowd at bay. Watching as Kacchan was just suffocating on the villain. 

Wouldn't they do something to help him? Couldn’t they see that he couldn't breathe? Izuku cursed, clutching his bag. Fuck him. He ducked under the hero's arms and took off running towards Kacchan. 

Why was he helping him? Heck, he had no idea. This was his bully who tortured and made fun of him every day. But this was still Kacchan and no matter how much he hated the guy he just couldn't watch him die although that couldn't be said the other way around. 

He swung his bag aiming at the villain's face hoping to hit something solid as the rest of its body was just liquid. It did nothing much but hit the villain's eyes who cursed loudly and let go of Kacchan enough for Izuku to pull him out. Kacchan was smart as he reacted fast blasting the villain in his face as well, making them tumble away enough for the heroes to fucking move finally and do something. 

All Might appeared from nowhere using the same air blast as before and containing the villain. Izuku stared at the sky as the cloud that had gathered cleared away. Had the guy just changed the weather? What the actual fuck?

Izuku was jostled around by Kacchan who jumped to his feet coughing briefly, his eyes narrowing at Izuku. “What the fuck was that nerd,” He growled out as heroes swarmed them. 

“That was irresponsible,” One screamed right into his face, not even letting Izuku get up. 

“You could’ve died, what were you thinking?” Another one growled out. Kacchan scoffed from his side. 

“Well you weren't doing shit so,” Izuku said, getting up. He looked around for his bag trying to grab it but heroes flocked him telling him that he shouldn't have done it. That he should have let pros handle it, that All Might arrived and apprehended the villain in mere seconds. Izuku wanted to laugh. All Might could’ve done it before but he didn’t and Izuku knew why now. He only pressed his lips together and grabbed his bag. 

“Listen,” He growled out meeting the heroes- Death Arm’s eyes. “You just stood there and let him suffocate, at least I did something,” He broke his gaze and turned around to walk home. He had enough of this. He passed Kacchan, bumping his shoulder harder than intended. Kacchan grabbed his arm instead. 

“Watch where you're going, you quirkless shit,” He said it loud enough for the heroes to hear and Izuku knew it was intentional. 

“Oh sorry, I was kinda expecting a thank you for saving your ass but I guess that’s too much to ask of you,” Izuku gritted out, catching the surprise on Kacchans face and took off. He tore through the crowd and disappeared from the scene. The police were there this time, the medical staff were this time but Izuku didn't have the energy to follow through. 

He staggered into an alleyway and slid down the wall clutching his head. Shudders passed down his body as he tried to breathe. Unsure if it was the burn in his chest from the sludge villain or talking back to Kacchan but he couldn’t breathe. Or think for that matter. His gaze grew fuzzy and all he could feel was that he was not right. His chest burned, his hands trembled and he really, really wanted to die. 

His cheeks were soaked with tears, and as much as he should have cared he didn’t. 

Five minutes later he was stumbling out of the alley pretending that he hadn’t broken down and that he was a-okay. Shudders still wrecked his body, he swayed on his feet and he should not be up and going home but he rather not be found by someone. 

He could continue breaking down at home where no one would bother him because he lived alone. Where he could spend the rest of the night crying to sleep because his mind went overdrive tonight. Maybe he could go out as Akatani tonight. Should he call Dabi and ask to light something on fire to feel better? Maybe or should he just wander the city in hopes of finding something fun to do? A rooftop high enough to end his suffering perhaps?

He didn’t feel like doing any vigilantism today though. Seeing police or fighting for the good of hero society when he was let down twice today didn't sound so appealing. He pulled out his phone. 

Dabi it was. It was easier to drown the sorrows inside his chest when he didn’t have to be himself. 

“Oi, Deku,” Izuku looked back, his finger hovering over the call button. Kacchan was panting, staring him down. 

“I didn’t need your saving back there shitty nerd,” He rasped out and Izuku nodded. 

“Right because you definitely weren’t suffocating,”

“What the fuck is up with you,” He growled eyes narrowing. Izuku sighed. What was wrong with him? Shit ton of stuff but he didn’t feel like explaining it to Kacchan right now, so he took a few steps closing the distance between them and smiled at Kacchan. 

“Just took your advice nothing much,” He winked at Kacchan and turned around going home. He would call Dabi later. He wasn’t sure with how hard his heart was hammering he would do any good talking right now. 

He hoped Kacchan didn't follow him. He was tempted to run but his shortness of breath was concerning so he slowed down instead. Hearing no footsteps behind him he came to a full stop. Running a hand through his head he laughed meekly. He just wanted to go home. 

“Young man!” All Might skittered to a stop in front of him, in his big form. Izuku gaped looking around. All Might greeted him coughing and turning into a puff of smoke, his smaller form emerging. If that wasn’t traumatizing. Izuku bit his lip. Seriously? Could he walk home and not meet people left and right? He was asking just for one thing. 

“Young man, I came to apologize,” 

“For what?” Izuku rasped out. All might have thrown him a concerned glance but continued nonetheless. “ I wish to say sorry for putting you into a situation that causes you to jump into danger to save a fellow boy.” 

To what? Izuku tried to piece it together, coming to an understanding that All Might thought he jumped for Kacchan because of what he said on the roof. It made sense but it was not it. He didn’t dare to correct the hero so he just nodded hoping that would be it. That he could just go.

“And I’ve also come here to say that your actions inspired me to do better, young man you truly are a hero,” Izuku snorted. For all his breaking down he could still laugh. Him a hero? Laughable. 

“No offense All Might, but like I’m the furthest away from being a hero but thanks I guess. Is that all?” He sighed. All Might rubbed the back of his head. Was the hero uncomfortable? 

“Actually I came here with a preposition, I may have overheard,” Izuku narrowed his eyes. Had he seen him breaking down? That was embarrassing. 

“Are you quirkless, young man?” Ah. That. Kacchan did say it loudly. Izuku pondered whether to stick to what Kacchan believed or tell the hero. He chose the latter because well the first wasn’t true anymore and if Kacchna wanted to believe that then so be it. 

“Actually I’m not, I am a late bloomer and whatnot but I’m not-” He paused, chewing his lip. “Not quirkless,” 

“I see,” All Might nodded. “Can I ask what your quirk is?” 

Izuku gulped. “It’s- uh just a minor healing quirk,” Minor enough to keep him alive no matter how much he broke himself. The hero nodded, smiling to himself briefly. What was he thinking? 

Izuku looked around, it was getting late if he wanted to meet Dabi he would need to get home soon.

“Young man, my preposition is,” He paused. 

“To get my quirk, one that can be passed down from wielder to wielder,” Izuku sucked in a deep breath. A quirk? What? Was the hero serious? Like actually? All Might kept going, explaining the secret of his quirk, how it could be passed down, and why he was giving the chance to Izuku. It was ridiculous. The power was immense; he doubted his body could handle it. Ok sure he had a healing quirk but All Might was more than two meters tall and extremely buff and Izuku well he was a scrawny kid with light muscle on him. That’s it. 

“You’re joking right?” He broke All Might's rant. “You can’t be serious right now?” He asked in bewilderment. All Might let out a sound. 

“Young man, I assure you I am 100 percent serious right now-.,”

“Then you must be an idiot,” Izuku slapped his own cheek, he should shut up. “You understand you’re giving such power to some random kid you just met because he decided to run and save his classmate?” All Might flinched at the harshness of Izuku's tone but he didn’t care. 

“Do you understand how idiotic it is? What would the power even do to me? For all I know it could explode my limbs immediately,” He exclaimed. 

“Young man that’s why I intend to train you before acquiring this quirk,” 

“And? What of it? Did you even ask if I want to be a hero? Did it occur to you that maybe I just want to live a normal life, work a 9 to 5-day job and hope to marry someone and have kids without putting myself in danger?” That was a lie. He didn’t want all that. He had never thought of that but it’s not like All Might knew. 

He stumbled on his feet. “ All Might you’re the number one hero, right? I thought that entailed at least decent intelligence and logic along with it, but I guess all you have is raw strength that isn't even your own,” Izuku sighed, taking a deep breath. 

“If that’s all I’m heading home,” He passed the stricken hero and stopped briefly. 

“If you're worried, I won't tell anyone about this but please don’t ask me again, I will say no regardless,” He whispered the last part and took off into a jog. His chest was burning and heaving, short of breath but he needed to get away. 

Izuku stumbled around the alley clutching a can of soda. The night was calm when he had nothing to do or planned. He hadn't called Dabi and just went out without his disguise to roam around. Not as Akatani Mikumo better known as Yami but just as Izuku Midoriya. 

It let him breathe and not think about anything. He neared a fire escape and pulled himself up, reaching the top of the building with slow steps. He sat down, sipping his soda. 

His legs swung over the edge, catching the soft breeze. He could stay here forever.

A soft thud behind him startled him and he almost dropped his can of soda into the abyss of the alley. 

“You shouldn't sit so close to the edge kid,” Izuku twisted his head trying to see who the mysterious guy was. 

“And you shouldn’t scare someone because they might just slip and fall,” Izuku recorded letting his sarcasm slip through. Clouds moved, letting moonlight shine through and Izuku closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then he noticed that a familiar figure stood in front of him. 

“Shit,” He cursed watching as the capture scarf wrapped around his torso in a familiar motion. His luck was really inside someone's ass. 

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t get how he got himself in this situation, but somehow he was being escorted by Erasehead home because quote- ‘A kid who took joy in dangling over the side of the building couldn't be trusted to walk home safely at midnight’, end quote. Ridiculous. 

But then again, he was good at getting himself in inconvenient situations. 

Eraserhead was just too over-dramatic. Izuku had called him on it, but the hero didn’t budge and just pulled him away from the edge and raised his eyebrow at him. He felt like a child being scolded for breaking something, but he nodded and went along with it. There was no need to worry the hero needlessly. 

“What’s your name?” He let go of his captured weapon, glancing at the can of soda in Izuku's hands. Most likely to check if he wasn’t drinking anything he shouldn’t be. Izuku smirked, Erasehead was lucky he caught him on his good day. 

“Why? Gonna rat me out to my parents?” Izuku smiled although that wouldn’t work because his parents were nonexistent. Well, his mom was, his dad just didn’t care for that matter to even show up. He just sent money enough to pay for the apartment and have some left over for food but that was it. No mom or dad to pay attention to what shit Iuzku got himself into. However, the food money seemed to decline every month bit by bit.  

“You want me to?” Eraserhead glanced at him, getting the door that led to the staircase inside the building.

Eraserhead pushed the door open with more force than one would think it needed, the doors were awfully rusty. Izuku noted the tremble in his hand. Maybe the hero was injured? But the door was open and Eraserhead was staring at him expectantly. 

Right. 

“Nah,” Izuku mumbled, following the hero down or front as the hero didn’t step inside until Izuku was halfway down the first flight. Cautious much? Though he wouldn’t blame the hero, he wouldn’t be the first one who Izuku accidentally traumatized with his abilities not to perish into the land of no living. 

“So, name?” He joined Izuku as they leisurely walked down. Izuku took an over-the-top sip, the sound echoing in the hall. 

“Will you give me yours if I answer?” Izuku glanced at the hero. It was a gamble but a good one. Despite all the senses in his head telling him to get the fuck away from the hero. Whatever. 

“Sure,” Izuku almost choked on his soda. Okay, this was weird. Izuku briefly remembers that he wasn't wearing his Akatani disguise and wasn't the wanted criminal, vigilante, villain whatever and was just a random teenage boy that the hero was worried about. Definitely weird but highly entertaining if he had to be honest. 

“It’s Izuku,” Eraserhead nodded. 

“I’m Shota Aizawa,” They reached the end of the stairs, Eraserhead - Aizawa forcing the door open again. Man, someone should take care of these doors for once. Both here and on that rooftop he talked to All Might the doors were either working too well meaning they weren’t locked at all and someone could wander to the roof and jump. Someone being Izuku. Or didn’t work at all to the point that a pro hero couldn’t pickpocket them open and had to use brute force. What if there was an apartment fire and they needed to evacuate? What then? 

Where's the attention to safety? 

“Where to kid?” Aizawa blinked at him as if he had heard the mini rant going off inside of Izuku's head and he briefly wondered if he had indeed said it out loud. Pressing the can to his lips he gestured with his head to the left. He licked his lips hoping to keep his muttering at bay around the hero in both of his forms. It’d do no good to tell the hero all about his darkest secrets. 

Aizawa took off, Izuku scurrying after him.  It was a twenty-minute walk. Long twenty minutes in Izuku’s opinion. He briefly wondered how badly he’d make the hero worry about him but he let that thought slide, deciding to fill the silence with some random questions instead. 

“So Eraserhead, how’s patrol?” Izuku watched as the hero took it upon himself to check their surroundings every few meters. Perhaps a habit and well he was still on duty. Silly duty to take a kid home. 

“Nothing exciting besides a problem child standing too close to the edge of a roof, you give off the wrong impression with that you know?” Izuku pointedly ignored his little hiccup at the nickname of a problem child and clicked his tongue. 

“For your information and further notice, shall we meet again, I, for one, wasn't trying to jump,” Izuku laughed to himself. Aizawa raised his eyebrow, definitely not amused but Izuku continued. 

“To waste such a good can of soda bought with the last of my money would be a crime in society, at least to my weeping wallet,” He dangled the can that was almost empty in front of the hero and took a big sip, once again exaggerating the sound. Aizawa pinched his nose briefly. Oh, this was certainly entertaining. 

“Just don’t hang out on the roof next time, someone might come and push you instead of trying to help you,” Ha. What a joke. He’d be the first one to push himself. 

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Izuku sighed, stopping to see the hero looking at him with a certain look in his eyes that he couldn't place. 

“Kid,” Aizawa started and Izuku realized mortified that he had said it out loud. He knew that not everyone appreciated the dumb suicide jokes, especially from a kid who couldn’t off himself as he wished. He forgot to keep track of his tongue. So much for not making others worry about him. 

“Wait no, forget I said anything,” Izuku took the last sip of the cap and walked faster ahead, taking a turn glancing up to see his apartment complex in view. Maybe he could lose the hero here. 

“Kid,” Aizawa caught up to him, placing his hand on his shoulder. Izukus stopped fidgeting with the can in his hands. 

What was he thinking going with Erasehead home? What was he thinking telling the hero all about his issues as if the hero cared? There was no use to it. No need to put a target on his back as a civilian. It would only make this harder. Would Aizawa recognise him now when they next time? Would he realize that he was Yami and forget all about the pity in his eyes and decide that the only place he belonged to was a prison?

Izuku wanted to run away. To leave Eraserhead in the dust, wondering what was wrong with him. 

It would raise a lot of flags in the hero's mind but god did he want to leave. He wasn’t good with people showing worry and concern, especially not adults. So he just stared at his trembling hands, hoping Aizawa would forget about this and go back to his patrol or something. Whatever the heroes did. He wouldn’t know. 

“Want another one?” Izuku jumped as Aizawa tapped the can in his hands and nodded to the store they just passed. Reluctantly Izuku nodded and watched as the hero turned to the store giving him a look that told ‘stay there’. Izuku had half the mind to run but he just sighed and threw the empty one out, hearing the loud click in the dead of the night. 

Aizawa returned two minutes later holding two cans, one soda and the other cold coffee as well as a sandwich. The same sandwich Izuku lost to Eraserhead. Funny. He extended the soda and sandwich towards Izuku who took both of the items, staring at them. 

“Figured you might be hungry,” he said, cracking his coffee open and taking a long sip. 

Izuku gripped a sandwich in his hands. He hadn't eaten in a few hours, that's true. He could get some of those nutrients inside his body especially when his fridge had been hauntingly empty for the past two weeks. Money really was an issue. 

“I guess,” He mumbled as they took to walking once again. Silence filled with chewing coming from Izuku and occasional sip from Aizawa as they reached the apartment Izuku lived in. 

He gulped the last of his sandwich glancing at Aizawa. 

“Well that’s my building I-uh, thanks you can go back to your hero thingie, you know,” Izuku cringed at the way his voice cracked. When had he ever acted like this? No less in front of a hero? Dabi would make fun of him right here and not let him live it down. Yami was never so meek and silent. 

Izuku sighed, taking a step towards his house. But Izuku was and he was Izuku. Yami was just that - a hobby. Nothing more. Nothing he could fall back to. In the end, he was always Izuku, meek, weak and lonely. 

“I’ll lead you to your apartment,” Izuku cringed. Great. He nodded, deciding it wasn’t worth fighting the hero knowing his apartment,  it would only make Aizawa suspicious. If he wasn’t already with the way Izuku acted. 

They took the flight of the stairs as the elevator was out of order and approached the fifth floor. Izuku grabbed his keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a second before turning to Aizawa who nodded at him. 

“Stay safe,” He said and turned around. Izuku stared after him watching as he clambered down the stairs. 

Izuku took a deep breath and unlocked the door. He let out a soft ‘I’m home’ despite no one being home to greet him and dropped his shoes by the door. He slipped on his slippers staggering to the living room couch and dropped into it face-first. He felt the metal of the can under his arms and the plastic of his eaten sandwich crunch between his chest and couch. 

He groaned loudly, digging his hands into the plush of the couch.

He felt tears welling in his eyes. Was this alright? To be on Aizawa’s radar? Wouldn’t it come to bite him in the ass? It always had. Whenever he chose to trust someone, chose to believe that he was worth something. It always came back in the worst ways possible. Who was to say it wouldn’t happen this time too. 

But what Aizawa could do to him that he hadn’t done himself? 

Izuku stared at the side of his couch, sighed and got up to take a shower. Murmurs of his mind telling him that Aizawa could give him a home drowned under the cold water. 

Izuku or Yami stumbled into Dabi’s apartment hissing as he hit his side on the doorknob, swinging the door shut. He rubbed his eye, itching from the contact lenses. He really needed new ones as soon as possible. 

“Where have you been?” Dabi threw his head back on the couch looking at Izuku upside down. 

“Do you want the long or short version of my past few days of misery and happiness” He rubbed his eyes harder, staggering to the couch and plopping down. Gods did they itch.

“Don’t rub your eye Yami and short please, I haven’t slept and as much as your life amuses me right now I just want peace and quiet,” Izuku sorted pointedly ignoring Dabi's comment about rubbing his eyes and continued to do it anyway. Soon sparks and weird shapes appeared in his vision and he finally let go. 

“If you wanted peace and quiet, you shouldn't have agreed to let me come over. You know how that always ends, one of us is always running away from the cops,” Dabi groaned, throwing his hand over his eyes. Izuku hummed as he noticed the scars on his right arm had extended near his knuckles from the last time he had seen him. 

“We both know that your ass runs away more often than mine,” Dabi chortled amused. 

“At least I can run,” Izuku scooted away from Dabi's incoming attack, snorting as Dabi threw him a pillow instead. He caught it, setting it behind his head and sinking into the couch with a satisfied sigh. 

“So your week?” Dabi glanced at him, standing up and walking to the fridge. He opened it pulling out a can of beer, looking at Izuku with his eyebrow raised in question. He shook his head. 

“School night no can do,” 

“You’re no fun Yami,” Dabi shut the fridge, popping his can open and settling on the couch again. Izuku watched him take a sip and let out a loud satisfied sound, most likely pointing out what good treat he had missed.

Izuku twirled his mask in his hands, throwing his legs on the couch and leaning to settle against a pillow. 

“I met a few heroes,” He said, gaining Dabi's attention. Heros were always an interesting topic between them. Especially Endeavor to Izuku’s amusement. He had a few theories as to why, but never brought them up for fear of angering him. Angry Dabi could be quite terrifying. 

“Which ones?” 

“Some low-ranked ones, then Eraserhead again-,” Dabi snorted saying he was an Eraserhead magnet, Izuku nodded along.

“And All Might,” Dabi choked on his drink, sputtering trying not to get beer on his couch that he valued too much despite its ratty look. Izuku had told him to get rid of it long ago but the guy was too attached to it. 

“All Might?” Dabi rasped out clearing his throat and looking at Izuku like he had grown two heads. 

“Like as Yami or-?” He gestured, meaning to say Izuku's civilian identity. Dabi didn’t know of his civilian name or life, just a few random facts, not that Izuku knew about Dabi much as well. It was a mutual agreement to just not ask. Safer too. 

“Not as Yami, no, it was after school,” He mumbled, not diving too deep into details. He was sure the whole Bakugou fight was broadcasted and if Dabi was smart enough he would put two and two together. Not that Izuku entirely minded if Dabi knew of his civilian identity he just didn’t want to slip up so easily. There was no drama behind it. And well sometimes he was afraid Dabi would throw him aside if he happened to find out. 

“And what happened?” Dabi calmed down from choking on beer. Best way to go if one had to ask Izuku. 

“Nothing much, just saved me from being choked to death, talked to me and left me alone,” Izuku left out the many parts of their meetings. Many, many parts like giving Izuku secret power that people would kill for or to know about. Yeah, it wasn’t that important. 

“Played damsel in distress?” Dabi grinned. Izuku kicked his leg out trying to nail Dabi’s side but somewhere caught his can of beer, sploshing it everywhere instead. Dabi shrieked, crying out for his beer and Izuku laughed, shaking his leg that got caught in the spill and now smelled of shitty store beer. 

“You’ll pay for that Yami,” Dabi squeaked out, setting his can of beer and lunging for the younger teen. Izuku shrieked, getting from the coach and running. 

“If you can work your chicken legs fast enough,” he called back, slipping on his mask and rushing out of the apartment. This was fun. Izuku smiled underneath his mask, this is what he loved. 

Izuku ran his hand through his damp hair, fingers coming slightly black, the leftover temporary dye not having come completely out. He disliked getting that shit out of his hair because he was never fully successful and it darkened his already dark-ish hair more. Though he was grateful to have gotten darker hair than his mom, otherwise, the whole ‘dying his hair black at night and washing it out afterwards’ wouldn’t have ended well. At least until he found a better solution. 

Store-bought temporary dye or sprays were not good but they weren’t bad either. The only thing he needed to avoid was rain because the first time he didn’t notice the paint running down his neck as he was kicking down a guy he almost got caught by the police force. His dark green hair was too big of a giveaway for him to feel comfortable. That's where the black hair came into play, and not to mention that the fake name he used as a disguise suited it perfectly. 

He never knew the boy but heard what happened, same fate really. Izuku could have been another boy who died of suicide easily. He tried but didn’t succeed. In a cruel twist of fate. 

Shaking his head off any leftover droplets in his hair he walked out of his apartment building. It was late and he had gotten back from a job with Dabi an hour ago, showered, grabbed a bite of whatever he could find in his fridge and went out to the streets again. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight so it was futile to try and pretend he could get some rest when clearly his mind wouldn't shut up about everything that happened. Kacchan, All Might and Erasehead to follow. 

Only a week since then and yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. At school, he was ridiculed for trying to help Kacchan. Though Kacchan seemed oddly silent and hadn’t thrown a punch his way since then. Izuku was really glad but it was so unusual he was thrown off. He was used to daily taunts, punches and kicks; it felt almost as if the world was breaking apart when nothing of that sort came his way. Not that the rest of the class stopped bullying him suddenly, it’s a dream never to be reached but without Kacchan at the head of the pack they had laid down for a bit. Only for a bit though. 

Maybe that made him a bit more reckless that night, wishing for some kind of physical affirmation that he was still there. You know, remind him that he's not actually dead as he wished to be? Whatever that meant. Kick back his senses into working reminding him that he was living and breathing. 

That’s how Izuku ended up helping a woman get out of the grasp of a stupid molester who screamed and punched him until Izuku pulled out his knife and stabbed the man's thigh. The man screamed profanities at him and took him by his neck. Izuku cursed, being pushed against the wall unable to breathe properly. He pulled his knife back once again to aim for the man's shoulder. 

“Hey old man, could you drop the guy for me please?” The guy in front of him briefly turned to the side letting out a sound that told everyone how offended he was to be interrupted, only to freeze as he did so. His mouth fell slack, his face relaxing and his eyes going white. 

“Release the boy,” The other voice said and the man complied, eyes unfocused and his body limp. Izuku jumped to his feet and had been dropped to the ground. His skull ached, as he had almost cracked it against a wall. A quirk?

“Now turn around and run into the wall,” Izuku watched the man run into the wall as if he was the first place in a marathon and there were only ten meters left to finish. The guy knocked himself out immediately. The women who had fallen to the ground through the whole ordeal whimpered, got up and ran away. Izuku scoffed and didn’t even say thank you. 

He sighed, rubbing his neck. God that hurt. He looked to the side to see the other guy watching him intensely. 

“Hey,” He said, his shocking purple hair catching Izuku’s attention. He’d never seen this guy around and he knew everyone on the streets new or old. It was partially his job to do so. 

“Hey,” Izuku rasped out, wincing at how fucked his voice sounded. Okay, maybe the guy had a better chokehold on him than he imagined. The guy winced, walking closer to him. 

“You ok?” He asked, watching as Izuku grabbed the knocked-out guy and pulled the knife out of his shoulder. Izuku sighed, cleaning the blood on the guy's shirt. He would rather not get his hoodie dirty. 

“Never been better,” Izuku looked at the purple-haired guy. 

“And you?” The guy raised his eyebrow, nodding his head. He seemed young. Maybe they were around the same age, but nowadays looks can be deceiving. Izuku hoped it just wasn’t some ten-year-old looking like they just started high school. 

“Great,” Izuku hummed. 

“I’ll go, Thanks for the help out there,” He passed the guy patting his shoulder. He was rather curious about who the guy was but he wasn't Yami right now, he was just Izuku and Izuku was a normal teenage boy who liked to take late-night strolls and never got into much trouble. And now that Eraserhead had taken notice of him he’d rather not cause more ruckus than needed. He could keep tabs on the guy when he was in his disguise anyway. Who knew maybe it was just a one-time thing from the guy. 

“What’s your name?” The guy asked instead, turning around and following him. Izuku closed his eyes for a brief moment. He looked at the guy, boy, whatever and cocked his head. Definitely not someone who took to the streets. 

No one would ask for a name outright. Not like this anyway. 

“Why?” He asked instead of giving the guy an answer. 

“Why not?” Okay, maybe the guy had a valid point. His voice was obviously laced with sarcasm and Izuku could vibe with that. Maybe just a tiny bit. 

Izuku stopped to stare at the guy who took one step behind him. He narrowed his eyes looking the guy up and down. His stance clearly told him he’d never done shit like this nor did he get into fights or anything. He didn’t look confident, nor really defensive like one would be familiar with street life. He just looked average? 

The dark bags under his eyes totally screamed insomnia is my friend and his hair was just crazy, which was kind of cool, to be honest. 

See? Vibe. Izuku was giving in. 

The guy ran his hand through his hair, looking at him patiently.  

Izuku gave in. “I’ll give mine if you give yours,”  

Some part of him told him he was making a mistake but what the heck not like he didn’t do that daily. His life was one big mistake anyway. 

“Shinsou Hitoshi,” He mumbled, running his hand over his neck. Nervous or awkward or both. Izuku could relate to that quite a lot. 

“Midoriya Izuku,” He greeted and extended his hand out. The guy looked at it for a few seconds and nodded to himself giving it a clap. They stood silent for a few seconds before Izuku turned and started walking home once again. The guy took a moment to gather his bearings but followed him soon after. This time instead of walking slightly behind him Shinsou took the place by Izuku’s left. It felt nice. 

Izuku didn’t really have a friend to walk like this with. Dabi was a friend, sure but they didn’t have many chances to stroll at night like this. Side to side. It was always, look out for bad guys or look out for cops. On the run half of the time or jumping along the rooftops hoping the next step isn't going to be sure to fall down the building. Izuku rather not repeat the first time he jumped from one roof to another, he sure misjudged his step and fell down. Dabi had freaked out so badly. But it was all good, just a few broken bones, he didn't even die, like fake die or whatever. 

But this? Walking with a stranger he just met who seemed to be around the same age as him, taller with wild hair and dark bags under his eyes rivalling Eraserheads? Yeah no that was new. But nice. He didn’t have friends but this seemed good enough. Was that sad and pitiful? Most definitely but Izuku had long gone and stopped thinking about what others think, or at least he thought he had but then All Might came and his world was thrown around its axis. Again. 

Despite that, he didn’t really dwell on stuff about what his peers said about how inept he was socially and how dysfunctional were his relationships. No mother, no father, no friends or family. At some point, it just flew over his head and he hadn’t tried to correct anyone. It wasn't his job to, anyway. 

“I was wondering,” The guy put his hands in his pockets as Izuku briefly hummed, glancing at him. Izuku’s eyes locked on the bandage on his left arm. 

“What’s your quirk?” Izuku raised his eyebrow. Were people his age always like that? Quirk this quirk that? Okay, Izuku was guilty of that as well, his countless notebooks filled with quirks on every hero and villain around proof of his obsession so to speak. But he did do it silently or well he thought he did because muttering was an issue he should correct but never bothered to. 

And yet were all teenagers, the fourth generation filled with people who just asked about quirk first then everything else second? As if that was the only identity a human could have? He understood that to some degree. Quirks were unique and maybe some repeated, like fire quirks for example. But then again they were so vastly different as well. Each user of the same type of quirk still had something unique to them. From something as simple as heat to output and colour or even atomic structure. 

Izuku just felt a tiny bit disappointed that the guy wasn't any different from others. Although he didn’t really have high hopes for anything anyway. He stopped having those at some point in his life.

But Shinsou continued before he could answer. “Because I saw you fighting and didn't notice anything, I was just wondering if you-,” 

“I have a healing quirk,” Izuku slipped but that shut up Shinsou quickly. He thought about it and nodded. 

“Seems useful,” Izuku snorted. 

“Yeah, useful is one way to say it,” Shinsou threw him a look Izuku pointedly ignored and sped up briefly. They would be soon entering the park near his house and he was thinking about stopping there hoping Shinsou would go his way. Izuku didn’t want to show him his home. 

Why did he always end up going home with someone? Was he picking up strays? 

“And you?” He glanced at Shinsou who bit his lip. He felt a little bad, maybe he’d gone and made the guy uncomfortable. He knew nothing about making friends although he wasn’t intending to become one with the guy. But who knew how the night would go?

Izuku glanced at Shinsou who was biting his lip briefly before taking a deep breath.

“Brainwashing,” He mumbled, “It allows me to control people after they answer verbally to me, answer a question I mean,” Izuku felt his mind come to a screeching halt, rewind and burst into questions. That was so interesting and so dangerous. Izuku briefly realized that Shinsou hadn't tried to brainwash him the whole time they talked even if it was only a few sentences, but still. He could’ve totally done it, gotten Izuku to tell him anything if his quirk worked like that. 

Before he could stop himself he grabbed Shinsou’s hands and squealed. “That’s so cool!” He startled the poor guy who looked shocked and mildly amused at Izuku. 

“Yeah?” He weakly added and Izuku nodded. 

“You have no idea! Mind-controlling quirks are pretty uncommon but something that allows one to control another human being? Now that’s rare as fuck,” He let go of Shinsou and cleared his throat. 

“Sorry I got excited, I just really like quirks,” He felt embarrassed. Getting outwardly excited about quirks was something Izuku suppressed over time but it had slipped out. 

“It’s fine, I don’t really hear many say my quirk is, well, cool,” Shinsou finished voice barely above a whisper and Izuku understood. That kind of quirk wouldn’t be perceived well by people, it would be called a villainous quirk. People would think Shinsou would be a bad guy because he could control people if he wished to. 

Izuku wasn’t sure what kind of bullying it would cause. But knowing bullies at school they would probably stick to verbal abuse rather than get hands-on. Shinsou didn’t have much to control them after all although it would prove their point. Somewhat. 

“Well, it is, so there you go,” Izuku cleared his throat and crossed the street nearing the park. He kind of wanted to ask some questions but held off, it would be weird to do that. Everyone told him it was so he suppressed himself for now. 

He could remember the many times Kacchan had beaten him black and blue for showing interest in other’s quirk because in his words it was freaky and downright weird. In a way it was. Izuku could see that but come on it was just a few questions. He did ask people's permission beforehand. Always did. 

He ran his hand through his hair again, it was barely damp now. He wondered if he’d get sick like this but ignored the thought and turned to Shinsou mouth open a question rolling on the tip of his tongue. 

“What are you doing out here?” Izuku startled his hand wrapping around the knife in his pocket and whirled around. Shinsou let out a loud yelp instead of stumbling on his feet. Yeah no the guy definitely wasn’t familiar with late-night walks like these. 

“Aizawa?” Izuku blinked at the man standing in front of them. Eraserhead in all of his glory. Shinsou let out a squeak but Izuku paid him no mind. 

“Are you stalking me?” Izuku narrowed his eyes at the man who met his stare. They silently watched each other until Shinsou briefly cleared his throat. Aizawa’s gaze snapped at him. 

“What are you doing out at night problem child?” His gaze returned back to Izuku. Izuku sighed, why were people following him tonight? 

“Because I like walking around at night?” He tried to flash a smile at the hero but it was very much unconvincing as his smiles went. He wasn’t good at making himself seem happy. 

“With blood on your clothes?” The hero asked gaze flashing to Izuku's hoodie that he was wearing. Izuku immediately glanced down to see a red stain on the front of his pocket, the red in stark contrast to the hoodie's grey. Shit he hadn’t realized he got blood on himself. He glanced briefly at Shinsou wondering why the guy hadn't said anything but Shinsou looked pale instead like he’d seen a ghost. 

“It’s ketchup?” Izuku tried, but he winced when Aizawa only sighed. That didn’t work well. 

“What did you get up to now, problem child?” He walked closer towering over both of them. Izuku was panicking. What should he tell? Lie? Of course, he was going to lie. But what? Did he accidentally cut his arm? Or just happen to fall down and fall into a pool of blood that wasn’t his own? 

No that was dumb.  

“Uhm he helped me with a cut on my arm?” Shinsou added from the side and Izuku's eyes snapped to the guy who looked a little less pale than before showing his bandaged arm. Izuku thanked the god for whoever got those bandages on Shinsou. 

“And you are?” Aizawa asked instead. He narrowed his eyes on both of them and Izuku knew the hero was analyzing, and gathering information. Izuku could hear the gears turning in the hero's head. 

“Midoriya's friend, Shinsou Hitoshi?” He made it sound like a question and Izuku knew Aizawa didn’t believe them but from the fall of his shoulders, he gave up trying to question them and turned back to Izuku. 

“This better be the last time I catch you wandering around at night,” He hissed out and Izuku frowned. 

“You’re not my dad or anything,” Izuku said. He understood that the hero might be worried but he could do whatever he wanted. 

“Get home,” he gently pointed Izuku's head in the direction of his house, adding a harsh `you too to Shinsou’ and disappearing into the shadows. That was weird ugh. 

Izuku rubbed his head. The shove was soft but the man still had a heavy hand. 

“You know Eraserhead?” Shinsou broke the silence that had settled over them and looked at Izuku in wonder. 

“Yah?” He tiredly looked back. 

“Can’t believe the first time I’m meeting my hero I’m getting scolded by him,” Shinsou whined, like full-on whining the squeaky sound and all. Izuku couldn't help but break into a fit of laughter. Maybe he’d never had a friend before but this, this, felt like something that could work. Scratch that he didn’t want to make friends, no, well, he had so many questions to ask Shinsou about his quirk before he could let the guy go. Maybe friendship isn't the right word for this but Izuku knew something new was building and he wasn't against it. 

Perhaps for once he would indulge himself. But the fleeting thought that he would get Shinsou killed still flared. He wasn’t safe to be around. But Shinsou seemed to worm his way under his skin before he realized. Maybe this once he would let him. 

Chapter Text

“Oi, nerd,” Bakugou stood up walking to the shitty nerd’s desk watching him flinch briefly. But something about it seemed so fake it angered Bakugou. How dare he pretend to be afraid of him? Try and make it seem like Bakugou was still above him when they both knew it was anything but that. 

It had been a revelation to know that Deku wasn’t afraid of him, not anymore that is. Deku hadn’t exactly said it but his tone and look gave Bakugou enough of an impression to know that little shit had been pretending all this time. 

How long had it been since the last time Deku flinched for real? Last time he didn’t look down on Bakugou now that he was all that, that little shit? But then again Auntie Inko was gone, perhaps since then, since Deku changed, apparent to him even then but why did he care? Bakugou didn’t care about stupid Deku and whatever he was thinking about Bakugou. 

Thought that was a lie because Bakugou always cared and it irked him how he could never shut his mind off the nerd. 

“What is it, Kacchan?” Deku looked up at him, shrinking in on himself. It just irked Bakugou even more. He scoffed. 

“Quit pretending,” He snarled as Deku jumped again. Oh god, he was such a bad actor it was obvious he wasn’t influenced by Bakugou's tone of voice. Like not at all. Though Bakugou never noticed he was pretending before. So was it only obvious because Bakugou knew? He clicked his tongue, kicking Deku’s desk. 

Deku squeaked as his books fell down, his eyes never meeting Bakugou’s.  

“Come with me, we need to talk,” He kicked Deku’s desk again for good measure, not liking the taste of bile at the back of his throat. Whatever. 

“Gonna beat me up?” Deku asked quietly but Bakuou still caught it. Deku got out of his seat, the squeak of the chair grabbing everyone’s attention, people staring at them both as they neared the door. Whispering overtook the classroom. Bakugou paid them no mind. 

“Oh, Bakugou gonna beat that nerd? Let me come with you,” Extra neared them, a big ass smile on his face. Bakugou glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. 

“Shut up it’s none of your business,” 

“Fine fine, don’t be such a pain in the ass Katsuki,” He heard Deku suppress a snort into his hand as he passed Bakugou and slipped out of the class giving him a side eye that was anything but warm. No usual sparkle or stupid naivety behind his gaze. Bakugou glared at him, what the fuck had happened to him? 

He followed Deku who led them to a secluded area where no one walked around. Bakugou only knew that because extras lied to corner Deku here to beat him up. 

“Talk,” Deku leaned against the wall staring Bakugou down. Bakugou watched him adjust his uniform, brushing off some dirt. Was that ash on the side? He glanced at Deku’s face to find him staring, the gaze still cold. He huffed and leaned against the wall opposite of him. 

“What the fuck did you mean by you took my advice,” Bakugou watched Deku flinch, this time for real. Had he caught him lying? Was he only pretending? 

“Kacchan-,” He sighed. “You’re smart, right? Use your fucking brain,” He snarled instead, his tone so angry and very unlike the stuttering mess Deku usually was. All this time, he had been playing a character to appease others, to appease him. Why the fuck? Why couldn't the nerd stand up for himself and not let others beat him up? He couldn’t grasp it. Was Deku really just stupid? 

“Just fucking tell me, nerd, don’t play games-” He grit out, but Deku yelled back at him, his fist clenched at his sides. 

“Oh right because suicide baiting for you is a game. Sorry I forgot, but news flash we’re not on the same page Katsuki,” Deku threw his name at him like a stone. It had been so long since he had been called by his first name. It was always Kacchan this, Kacchan that, the stupid nickname that Deku never had shaken off. Apparently he didn’t like it either with how easily he threw that away as he showed his real self. 

“What the fuck Deku are you stupid?” He yelled at him instead, his mind not wrapping around the concept that Deku might have done something he told the boy to do. He knew he was shitty about it but come on, he’d been like this for years? Why did the nerd suddenly start to listen to him? He was smarter than that!

“No I’m just tired, if someone tells me to jump trust me I’m so done I fucking will and I did,” Deku growled out, turning away from him, starting to walk away. Bakugou opened his mouth trying to tell him to stop and face him, but nothing came out as Deku stopped again, briefly turning his head to him. 

“Don’t talk to me anymore if you know what’s good for you,” Bakugou punched the wall behind him. Deku was a fucking idiot. 

Aizawa surveyed the area before moving across the rooftop. It was well into the night and his patrol would be coming to an end soon but the night was pleasant so he let himself linger outside just for a little longer. He kept his gaze sharp and trained on the rooftops. His mind reminded him of that one problem child who played with death like nothing. 

Izuku was interesting, that was for sure. He seemed bright and had enough sarcasm to fuel the whole town. But he had that sadness around him that Aizawa hated to see. It should never follow a child. He had an inkling that Izuku’s home life or perhaps school life wasn’t best for him. In any case, he never received much love and reassurance from the looks of it, unless he was completely wrong and Izuku was simply a little shit who liked to irritate adults. Wouldn’t be the first kid he’d met like that. 

Izuku reminded him of Yami in some ways. At least the sarcasm was something they shared. 

Briefly, he wondered if they ever happened to meet on the streets. Though perhaps Izuku wasn’t irresponsible enough to mess with villains, even if Yami wasn't exactly a villain, still toeing the line between good and bad. But he was still dangerous to a degree. Though he wouldn’t put it past Izuku to do something stupid, no less after their last meeting. It was clear that his friend, even if they were friends, was lying trying to cover it up. But the laughter he heard after he ‘left’ was genuine enough for him to leave it alone for now. Yami was his priority. Even though izuku sat at the front of his mind every day. 

The kid really made him watch the city rooftops much closer than before. The reason why he paused seeing a figure sitting on the edge of the rooftop. He squinted his eyes, watching as the person shifted, kicking his legs out like some kid. He crept closer to the rooftop hoping that it wasn’t Izuku again. And yet he doubted the kid would really listen to him not to repeat his adventures.  

As he came closer the kid shifted again and stopped swinging his legs. “Eraserhead?” Aizawa stopped. Yami? 

“Problem child?” The nickname rolled off his tongue as he watched, as Yami let out a confused sound, turning around, his eyes squinted. 

“Problem child? Really? That's the nickname I’ve gotten?” Yami shifted his familiar red eyes glittering in the moonlight. He was wearing a gray hoodie for a change but had his usual mask on his face. 

Aizawa nodded watching as Yami shook his head grumbling under his breath. 

“Just call me Yami, problem child makes me sound silly,” He chuckled as Aizawa watched him carefully. If the kid leaped he would be ready to catch him. But Yami gave no sign of leaning too far to actually fall off, at least for now. What’s with kids and rooftops seriously?

He could never be too careful.

Aizawa watched him turn back and sit still, every now and then fingers twitching as if writing something down. 

“So what are you doing here, Eraser? Isn’t your shift over already?” He broke the silence not turning this time. Aizawa noted that he should be back by now. Hizashi would worry about him soon. 

“You know my patrol hours?” He watched the kid shift, standing up and tottering over to him but keeping his distance. 

“Of course, I know them, I have every route and patrol hour of every hero in Musutafu right up here,” He tapped his head. “You’d think I would be able to run around for so long freely without knowing when and where the heroes move?” 

“That’s-” Aziawa hummed, Yami was logical. 

“If you say impressive, my opinion on you will drop Eraserhead, because that’s just common sense,” Yami turned his back to return to staring off the building. The kid was definitely weird. 

“If you had enough common sense you wouldn’t be running around,” Aizawa took a deep breath, even if the kid was logical and thinking about his safety it still didn’t change the fact that he was just a teenager running around and he should be stopped before he takes one wrong move and gets himself killed. Vigilantism was a slippery slope of doing too little to get noticed or doing too much you get picked up in a few weeks, with no whisper of how another body was found near the outskirts of the city. 

“Funny” He mumbled, giving Aizawa a look that didn’t belong on the face of a supposedly thirteen-year-old. 

Tsukauchi’s proposal floated back to him and he pinched the bridge of his nose cursing out the detective because yeah he was absolutely about to do it. Great. 

“What are you doing here kid?”

“Planning,” Aizawa raised his eyebrow as Yami flicked his fingers in a gesture to come closer. He eyed him but shuffled closer peering over the building where Yami pointed. He could only trust the Problem Child not to push him off. 

“See that man over there?” Aizawa followed the guy Yami pointed at, “He’s been standing there for the last thirty minutes waiting, I'm pretty sure there’s supposed to be a meeting in around ten or fifteen minutes,” Aizawa watched the man shift from foot to foot, clearly nervous as he looked around for something or rather someone, Yami continued to his left. 

“Not sure if it’s just an information exchange or something more. But the guys from the newly established gang who just started drug dealing are making rounds in the underground. Lately, the gang has had problems with their supply which makes me think that they're in a disagreement between operating parties. So I’m watching to gather information, for now,” The kid finished, glancing at Aizawa briefly before locking his eyes on the thug once again, his gaze unwavering and focused. 

That was simply speaking- good. The kid knew what he was talking about or rather he gathered enough information to know, his analytical skills shining through. Aizawa knew the brat had given many gangs a run for the money but he never knew why or how he would know the information to tip the police but here it was. Simple observation. 

“What drug are they spreading?” He inquired, time to see if he knew more stuff than the basics of underground. It was important to know the nuances of operating with the given information. No information was usable if one didn’t know how to put it together.

“Trigger, nasty stuff I'm sure you know,” Aizawa nodded. Trigger was one of the most well-known pieces of work imported from the States. Illegal in Japan but the demand was high enough for people to risk fifteen years of prison just for a taste. 

“It’s pretty common in the past few years,” He said as Yami let out a noise of agreement. 

“Yeah but that’s the thing, they’re dealing Trigger but the dose is twice as strong as the previous ones, which leads me to believe that, either as new generations come the Trigger is unable to give the same effect because of the genetic shift or they’re not actually operating with Trigger and are just lying to everyone's faces that’s why there are problems recently,” Aizawa raised his eyebrow at the kid who just shrugged.

He would do magnificently as a detective. 

“You think it’s the latter?” Yami nodded, sighing. 

“No matter how much I love the quirk singularity theory that I’m pretty sure is 99.9% true in this case it’s the latter,” His voice only betrayed the slightest hints of disappointment. 

Aizawa wondered just how much the kid knew, how much he analyzed to so easily piece together given information. To build on his own ideas without the need to outsource opinion? Did he have a quirk for that, one that wasn’t officially on his records as Akatani Mikumo? Did he have help or a supplier for any of this? 

From past experiences, he knew Yami was seen with Dabi every now and then but Dabi wasn’t known for thought-out operations. Yami, on the other hand, seldom showed up on the radar except for when he tipped the police. It’s only silly little things with Dabit that put him out there for the police to take notice of. But then again they could never truly know what he truly did and how much he let the police know. With how smart he was he might be deliberately keeping himself off the radar. 

“What are you going to do with the information gathered tonight?” Yami looked at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he was smiling. And maybe he was amused at the question. 

“Compile it of course, with everything else that I have on the gang and their suppliers, they are depleting the market and main customers. If I gather enough information tonight I might just have enough to take down the whole gang and supply system of Trigger for a few months at the latest. I’ll hand it over to the police as I always do, pretty sure you’d hear about this anyway, Eraserhead,”

That’s true, with how close he worked with the local police station and Tsukauchi he often heard of the kids' tips. More often than not was the hero on scene to help and catch Yami watching the police do their work. Though he never gave Aizawa enough time to catch him, except for the time not too long ago. Which Aizawa knew wasn’t planned at all. 

“Kid,” He looked at Yami who stared back, kicking his legs out again. 

“Yeah?” 

Aizawa felt tongue-tied. He had many questions. Why was he doing this? Why was he running around pretending to be a hero when it’s easier, simpler than that. Hero schools exist for a reason. Was he simply too impatient for that? Was it because he was recorded dead and just couldn’t do it? He had the potential to be a hero. Potential to be someone great on the scene but somehow Aizawa felt that saying that to the kid would piss him off so he held back. It was no use pissing off someone who could so easily cause havoc. 

“Tell me more,” He said instead, shooting off a text to Hizashi and turning his full attention to the kid. 

“Sure,” His tone - light and a little familiar. 

“By the way, Eraserhead,” Yami rubbed his hands together, clearly nervous. 

“What is it?” He grunted. 

“Why aren’t you, I don’t know, arresting me?” He asked and Aizawa stared at him for a moment because, right in front of him was technically a citizen breaking the law. Someone who should at least be brought in for questioning because no matter how innocent observing for the sake of information may seem, or how burning down warehouses was just playing around, it didn’t mean that what he did was entirely legal. Who knew what methods the kid used to gather his information and what the purpose of the destroyed warehouses was?

And yet Aizawa was a man on a mission quite literally and when dealing with kids sometimes the most simple approach was hearing them out. Kids wanted to be heard. That was one of the main reasons many went out and broke the law, fed up with staying back and being shut down by the adults. He didn’t know Yami and what he was capable of, but he needed the kid to trust him.  

“Are you doing anything bad besides being outside way later than a kid your age should be?” 

“I guess not,” He shrugged, still clearly nervous but much more relaxed than before, as if he had been expecting Aizawa to capture him right then and there. Izuku flashed in his mind, shoulders hunched down and no expectations of people around him to notice him. What has the world done to the children?

“Good now tell me more about the suppliers,” He changed the subject as Yami relaxed even more, pulling out a notebook, his hands trembling only slightly. 

“Right,” It was a start. 

“The kid’s damn smart,” Aizawa slapped a thick wad of papers on Tsukauchi's desks, startling him. It seemed awfully familiar to their conversation not so long ago. 

It had been only two days since he met Yami on the roof but he still hadn’t come to terms with how unique the boy was. He was damn smart that’s for sure. Nezu would have a field day if he ever got to talk to the kid. 

“What?” He glanced at the pile-up at Aizawa. Tsukauchi looked like he hadn’t slept for the last three days which is highly possible and Aizawa could relate to that wholeheartedly. Not that Tuskauchi went out on night patrols like he did but investigations sometimes were so complex and demanding that Tsukauchi slept at the police station. Or rather didn't sleep at all. 

“Here’s everything he compiled about the gang dealing with Trigger, suppliers, operation, customers, everything,” Tsukauchi looked through papers, shifting and tapping the desk. He grew more restless as he looked through the stack. Aizawa briefly spied on Tsukauchi’s computer that he’d been just looking into them. Talk about timing. 

“Who?” Aizawa watched the man frantically sort through the stack, writing down a few notes here and there. 

“Problem child, better known as Yami, he apparently doesn't appreciate your nickname,” He noted that they should look up Yami whenever the name was more known in the underground. 

“Shit Aizawa, it's everything we didn’t have to apprehend the gang,” Tsukauchi sighed, rubbing his forehead. The Problem Child either knew what the police were working on or this was purely a coincidence which Aizawa didn’t believe much. Someone like Yami wouldn’t hope for a coincidence.  

“Right,” 

Tsukauchi searched for his phone, his hand shaking. He reported to the higher-ups and soon a mission was being drafted, Eraserhead knew he’d be there as well. The kid just gave them more work. 

Aizawa didn't have enough time to look through the stack of papers spread in front of them but he took a glance. A long glance before he was on his way to Tsukauchi because this was insane. Despite the mountain of information he’d given him on the roof this was so much more. 

Yami on the roof talked about possibilities, probabilities and what would or could happen. But these? These were facts, information compiled so perfectly that it looked all too perfect if not for the sources confirming this left and right. Everything was down to the last detail and if something was uncertain an analysis followed that, speculations on the missing information. 

For a kid his age, for a kid running around playing heroes and villains as Aizawa had believed this was beyond what he expected. He never doubted Yami to be smart, that was foolish. No kid his age would be able to do what he had done for almost two years. And yet, the small tips left for the police were nothing compared to this and Tsukauchi seemed to agree. 

“Usually he leaves anonymous tips that are barely a sentence, never this,” He tapped his fingers on the table again, before looking through the papers once more, his eyes catching on new information each time. Aizawa looked through the analysis parts of the whole report, it could be considered a report on how official and detailed it was. The kid would be making mad bills if he worked for the force officially. 

“That’s because he gave me this personally,” He grunted startling Tsukauchi again. 

“You met him again?” Aizawa nodded his head. After their talk on the roof, Yami had told him to come to the same roof in two days, he did and found this but the boy was nowhere to be seen. 

“Two nights ago, I found him on a rooftop, apparently gathering information,” He was glad he decided to stay out longer that night. Hizashi wasn’t happy that was for sure but once he explained the mission he had Hizashi almost pushed him out of the apartment to bring the kid home. No matter how ridiculous it sounded he was inclined to do that for a few brief moments when he met Yami.

“I see,” Tsukauchi hummed before smiling, more like grinning at him. “What about making friends with the kid?” 

“Working on it,” Aizawa grit out, eyes snapping to the phone buzzing on Tsukauchi’s desk. He watched Tsuakchi put it on silent, his grin widening. 

“Oh tone down your enthusiasm Aizawa,” 

“Don’t patronize me,”  

“Sorry, sorry, it’s simply funny how you try to convince me you don’t have a soft spot for kids, trust me, Yamada has given me enough material to think otherwise,” Aizawa grunted, hiding behind his captured weapon. He didn't outwardly show it but he did have a soft spot for kids, or as Hizashi said for troublesome children because all he ever did was complain about them, which in his case was an act of love. 

“I'm sure my husband takes every opportunity to humiliate me,” Tsukauchi laughed, finally grabbing his phone. 

“Oh don’t say that Aizawa, I’m sure he only wants to humiliate you just a little bit,” Aizawa raised his eyebrow at the detective. 

“Detective I suggest you choose your next words carefully,” 

“Coffee?” Tsukauchi pointed to the full pot of coffee at the back of the room, answering his phone.  

“Actually, can you check something for me?” 

“You sure this isn’t a scam, Dabi?” Izuku looked around, unsure if he could trust Dabi with this one. Wouldn’t be the first time he unknowingly led them to a trap. Dabi was smart, and perspective but sometimes a little dumb. And that ‘sometimes’ lead them to life-threatening situations. 

“Can you not question me every five minutes we do this?” Dabi grunted from his side.

“It’s my job to question people” Izuku grinned at him though the mask obscured the view, he was sure Dabi saw his stupid grin anyway. 

“Your job is to stop being annoying and trust me Yami,” Dabi reached out and pulled the hood over his face. Izuku stumbled janking it back and adjusting it properly over his head. 

“I don't know,” Izuku sighed, “The last time you told me someone was asking for me because of a potential job we were running two miles to get away from some thugs,” 

It had been a mere two months ago. Dabi had heard that some people were asking for his services as Yami, of course Dabi had convinced him to check out. Only the moment they set foot into the alleyway both exits were blocked by big ass thugs, you know stereotypical muscular guys who look like they drink every day. So to say Izuku got the cardio he needed that day. God thing there was a big fight nearby that gathered heroes from around the area and they could slip away as the gang kept away smart enough not to raise a commotion and attract the heroes. 

“It was a poorly made decision,” Dabi clicked his tongue. 

“Your life is a poorly made decision,”

“Shut up,” Dabi tried to pull his hood again but Izuku escaped his grasp and jogged ahead of him looking around once more. The warehouse was big but awfully empty, besides a few lone crates. Despite that, the echo didn’t seem to go that far in this place which set Izuku on edge. He didn’t like open spaces where he had nowhere to hide or escape. He may have a quirk that doesn’t let him die but realistically he’d rather avoid being captured, tortured and whatever else it came with. 

He looked at Dabi who seemed very relaxed so he sighed deciding to trust him.

“What's this place?” 

“Thought you knew everything Yami. Your reputation is crumbling?” Dabi teased and Izuku pouted. 

“Dabi if you think I know every warehouse in the country then you a gravely mistaken,” 

“But you should,” a new voice spoke up startling Izuku. He whirled around holding his knife, eyes narrowed at the newcomer. A man dressed up in a simple suit and a cigarette in his mouth. 

“Who are you?” He raised his eyebrow at the smile never leaving the man's face. 

“Giran,” Dabi greeted the man from his side, extending his hand for a handshake, the man gratefully took it, turning to look at Izuku, his hand still extended. 

“Pleasure to meet you Yami, I've heard about you quite a bit, hard not to when so many villains disappear because of you,” Izuku stared at his hand deciding to take it. The handshake was firm but surprisingly soft. Izuku was used to people being rough with him, especially people from the villain world so this was a first. 

“Is this like a try to put me down because if so, Dabi I want my ten bucks back right now, I’m not stepping into a grave knowing my ten bucks are lost to a burnt pole,” Giran didn’t need to know he couldn’t step into the grave to stay there so he let Dabi’s snort slide and only briefly flicked his gaze at his friend who stepped aside to give them somewhat privacy. How thoughtful.

“I said trust me god damn it,” He gritted out though no malice was heard in his voice. 

“Don't think of me so low Yami, I'm only here to pass on information,” Giran chuckled as Izuku neared a lone crate and jumped on it sitting down. His feet hurt.

“Shoot,” 

“There’s a job,”

“Yeah no I gathered as much,” Dabi snort-coughed from his place leaning against the wall. Izuku shot him a look. 

“I think you understand that people want information,” Izuku hummed. Of course, people only came to him for information, nothing else. Some were naive thinking that they could beat it out of him, but what they didn't realize was that he was very powerful with what he knew and many people would do many things for him. But he worked only for the right people for the right pay. Something at the back of his mind told him that he was getting tangled in something big but he ignored that part, shuffling in his spot and crossing his legs. 

“What really depends here is that the customer is sending an outside source to ask for me,” He flicked his gaze to Giran who titled his head, his smile only briefly dropping, 

“Because one: either they are scared I know them and will end their career on the spot to say,” He wiggles his single finger in the air.

“Two they want information I most likely could get killed for and they don't want to be associated because of the dangers,” He raised two more.

“Three it’s information on something or someone I will give no information about,” He raised the fourth one, keeping his thumb down. 

“Or four it’s a trap to kill me,” He’d gone through all four of these, knew how people worked and he never liked it. He held his hand long in the air for Giran to chuckle. 

“I’ve heard the rumors, but your analysis is incredible,” Giran whistled, the sound echoing through the warehouse much more than it should. Izuku narrowed his eyes. He flicked his gaze to Dabi who had straightened up and was barely leaning against the wall. He looked alert as well. 

“It’s not much of analyzing but reading the room,” 

“Fascinating,” Giran hummed. He was far too nonchalant for Izuku's taste. 

“So which one is it?” Izuku wanted to get this over with as fast as he could. 

“I believe it may fall somewhere between two and three,” If that wasn’t great, fantastic and expected. Yeah right.  

“There's never an ‘in between’ at least not in the villain world,” You either live or get killed. That was that. Although Izuku was an exception, the ‘in between' he just denied existed. A bit hypocritical from his side but those exceptions didn’t exist if people didn’t know about them. And he didn't let his customers have the freedom of knowing that. it was information that could be easily used against him. He already let himself slip up once, one time that cost him much more than he’d ever imagined. 

“I've also heard that you see yourself as a villain although vigilante fits you better,” Giran kept stepping on his toes and Izuku clicked his tongue at that. He disliked when people tried to question his doings and beliefs. He sounded like Stain just now and Izuku noted that he should stop reading into the hero killer. The next thing he would do was believe All Might was great and he’d rather not. 

“Vigilante, villain or hero for that matter is an obscure term. The name vigilante was born only because some heroes broke the rules and some villains made friends,” He hissed out. He hated the terminology that tried to push actions into titles to justify them or the opposite to make them more dire than they already were. 

“So you think you’re a villain because you’re making friends?” Giran raised his eyebrow. 

“I'm a villain only because I have no desire to be a hero,” Dabi was by his side at this point but his steps faltered at what he said. He never had expressed his opinion on being a hero in front of other people so they were left guessing that perhaps he was just trying to chase a dead dream with the stuff he did. 

And partially they were right but only the fact that it was a dead dream. He wasn’t chasing it or anything not anymore that is. He gave up on trying to be something he never could be and just accepted that life as a villain was what he would live. Even if people seemed to disagree with him. But he never was one to listen to others' opinions. 

“Then why not stick to the term vigilante, I'm sure it would lessen your prison years by a few when you get caught,” Giran chuckled and yeah he had a point. Police were more lenient with vigilantes only because they were pseudo-heroes and if one learned history like actually learned it, digging up stuff from before the rise of heroes they would realize that the heroes they knew today, used to be vigilantes. The saviors of the world but once made legal with restrictions. Though many glazed over all the damage they truly did. Those were simply side effects of being a hero. 

“If I get caught, plus if I said I was a vigilante it would imply I had a desire to be a hero which I don't, so where do we go from that,” Giran laughed. Izuku tried to relax, he really did, but he couldn’t.

“You amuse me, kid,” 

“I'm glad I could make you laugh,” Dabi clicked his tongue. Izuku watched Giran calm down and look at him with a glint in his eyes. 

“You have three days to either accept this job or deny it, I cannot give you much information unless you accept so I hope you understand, kid,” Izuku sighed, and he nodded. 

“Same place?” He asked, watching as Giran simply smiled, bowed and retreated into the shadows. Izuku uncrossed his legs from his position on the crate, letting Dabi let out a long groan followed by a quiet apology.  

What would he do? He sighed, hopping off and catching Dabi’s attention. 

“What are you going to do?” Dabi watched him as Izuku pulled out his notes and scribbled something down. A new page for a new person. 

“Going to stalk Giran a little bit,” He smiled. 

“You’re stupid,” 

“Thanks,” He grinned at his friends who ruffled his hair, pushing his hoodie down. Would the stalking cost him something? Possibly. But he needed to know about the man and even if nothing came up, information never hurt. The nagging feeling never disappeared. 

Chapter Text

He was stressed. The morning after meeting Giran he had woken up way too early, barely getting four hours of sleep. Which wasn’t bad but it definitely wasn’t enough for a boy his age especially if he barely got five to six every other night. Not counting all the all-nighters he constantly pulled. 

It had taken him a bit to stumble to his bathroom and take a shower. He had forgotten one after coming home, just going straight to bed after. Not his best choice but it didn’t matter now. He had to wash the sheets anyway. Living the lifestyle he did, didn’t allow for much laundry washing. 

Staring at himself in the mirror he looked pale. 

Young, pale, obviously lacking sun on his skin and food in his day-to-day life. Almost like a ghost. His bones were a little bit more apparent than two weeks ago and another two weeks before that. He was surprised he didn’t really feel it, the lack of food, not yet at least. Did his quirk heal him from that as well? He doubted it. Would be nice though. 

Scrubbing his hair as hard as he could, he washed out the spray he used last night. It always made his hair extra crusty and Dabi had commented on that last night, though he wasn’t one to talk, his hair a far cry from being taken care of and soft. But it still sucked. He was surprised his hair didn’t fall out yet with how much he abused it. 

The water, stained black, ran down his shoulders and back leaving small trails of colour in its wake. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, hissing as shampoo got in one of them. That was stupid. He hadn’t noticed the residue on his fingers. Was he that tired? Or just overthinking everything like he always did. 

The school was a struggle as always nothing new there. Running around as Yami didn’t seem any different either. But then there was Eraserhead, on his ass in two different ways. And the Giran. Stupid job, stupid Dabi for taking him there. He was grateful of course that his friend is looking out for him and trying to find ways for Izuku to get money because he understands the struggle but damn it. He was exhausted.

He groaned slightly under his breath, his vision blurring just for a hot second but enough for him to slip and tilt sideways until his shoulder met the wall, tiles digging into his skin. He hissed, pushing his palm against the wall to straighten himself out. What the fuck?

His stomach growled. Right, no wonder there. 

Izuku finished his shower making his way to his kitchen and opening his fridge. Nothing ever was in there but the motion was familiar and some part of him always hoped that maybe something would appear in the forsaken white box. 

But nothing ever did and he let the door shut with a loud thud echoing through his apartment. He went to the pantry next. There was a 50/50 possibility of food being there because he sometimes did buy extra stuff and put it in there and often forgot that he put it there. Nights were hectic and trivial things slipped his mind far too often. Like homework, or food, or rest. Living alone without someone reminding him to take care of himself was challenging. 

He ripped the door open, eyes looking at nothing but one pack of ramen lying around. At least that's something. It was good ramen too, one of the expensive brands. He must have treated himself that day. And he would treat himself today as well. He should have gone to buy more food but the few coins in his pocket didn’t give him much to work with. 

His father was a little late on his usual payment, or he simply didn’t send Izuku money for living, just paying for the trivial stuff like the apartment's electricity and water, you know so he could live there. But food? No, Izuku had to find the money himself. Though before that he at least had a few thousand yen on him for the month. A+ for his child support or whatever.

He set the ramen packed down and grabbed his laptop from the living room. Quickly turning it on he sighed. Yeah, his dad paid for the apartment for the next month. That meant Izuku got no money this month and probably the next ones too. Who knew maybe his father would eventually stop paying for ‘their’ place altogether. It wouldn’t be surprising. Ever since Mom's death he just disappeared. 

Izuku had never really talked to his father before that either. He knew his name was Hisashi Midoriya and that he worked somewhere outside of Japan. His mother still loved him and he supported them pretty well, not that Izuku felt any connection to the gifts he’d gotten through the years that eventually stopped around his tenth birthday. 

Then mom died, and his father was contacted for the cause because Izuku was too young to live alone. Izuku didn’t know the details but he’s pretty sure his father bullshited some stuff because next thing Izuku knew he was living alone with money sent every month for necessities and no one was able to contact his father.

Now it seemed his dear old dad was finally cutting ties with him. Fun. 

Izuku shut his laptop and took the one ramen packet and hoped he would feel full enough for the day. He could worry about money tomorrow or the day after or- he pulled out a kettle making the rest of the pots rattle loudly making him wince at the sound. He filled a kettle with water, set it down on the stove and waited for the water to boil. Leaned against the counter and sighed - Giran. 

He could take the job. Could ask for half of the payment upfront. It wasn't something he did often but it didn’t matter. If they reached out for him they knew he was good and shouldn’t mind the half-half payment. More often than not it was money beforehand in the villain world. Based on how secretive Giran was with the deal and the whole sending in another person they pay should be good. 

Izuku threw the seasoning into the boiling water. 

Or he could steal some from thugs here and there. It wouldn’t give much but it would be something. He couldn’t ask Dabi, that guy was already struggling with money as it was and he was the one to set Izuku up with Giran. 

He slipped the noodles into the pot and mixed them.  

He was on his last hair dye as well. No food. Needed new clothes. Probably new notebooks as well. He needed stuff and a lot of it. Should he take the deal? There was too little he knew about it. He could be essentially stepping into a trap and getting himself arrested. 

Giran was a villain that much Izuku knew but after a quick research on his way home, he knew Giran sometimes helped the ‘good' side of the law for adequate pay. Unlike Izuku who fucked around and did it for free because it was fun. 

He sighed, finishing his ramen and pouring it into a bowl the scent making his stomach growl. It had been a bit since he’d last eaten. 

His phone buzzed and he frowned, grabbing it as he set the bowl at the table and dug in. It was Shinsou. He frowned despite exchanging numbers a few days prior; they hadn't actually talked besides the few memes occasionally. Cat memes to be precise amused Shinsou dearly and Izuku just had too much of them on hand. He had an inkling that a certain hero would enjoy them wholeheartedly as well. 

He hissed at the temperature of his food and decided to answer the message as it cooled down. His stomach growled again in response. Yeah yeah, he knew.  

From Shinsou : 

Wanna hang out?

Okay, that was surprising. Izuku tilted his head, was this a ‘friends’ thing?

To Shinsou :

you’re assuming I’m free right now

From Shinsou:

Well, are you?

To Shinsou:

I’m having a late breakfast

So Technically

From Shinsou:

Technically it means that in ten minutes you will be, meet me at the park in 30

Izuku snorted. 

To Shinsou:

I didn’t say yes

Oh well whatever, I wasn't planning on doing anything anyway

He was. He had a lot to do. Clean his apartment, wash laundry, look up Giran properly, plan out his moves, do homework for fucks sake. He had too many things to do at hand and not enough hours in a day but fuck. 

He stared at his phone, listened to the silence in his apartment and realized that he’d rather go out and hear someone’s voice. He hated his apartment. Hated the smell of his cheap detergent. Hated the empty fridge that never seemed to be full. He hated staying there ever since it became silent. Just reminded him how badly he had fucked up. That time when his dreams were still realistic to him. The time when he thought he’d just get a headstart at heroics or whatever. How cruel life was. How naive he used to be. 

There was a reason why he hung out more at Dabi’s apartment than at his own and why he wandered around the rooftops at midnight and gave Eraserhead a scare be it as Yami or Izuku. 

However, he would rather not meet the hero as Izuku again. It was far too dangerous to let him in, bad things happened when he did that. And maybe he was putting Shinsou at risk of getting hurt but he needed someone to remind him that he wasn’t a walking ghost pretending that his first death wasn’t his last. 

“Hey,” He called out weakly catching Shinsous attention who briefly smiled calling out a greeting in return. He still looked like he needed sleep as soon as possible and Izuku could relate. 

“You’re five minutes late,” He teased and Izuku rolled his eyes. He might have run late, just a tiny bit. 

“I couldn’t find clean socks,” He said, he really should wash his laundry because the number of dirty clothes compared to clean clothes was getting ridiculous. Next thing he knew he would be going out as Yami in his Present Mic hoodie and wouldn’t that be funny? He didn’t linger on the thought that he had a perfectly clean All Might hoodie and just smiled at Shinsou who shook his head. 

“Mom didn’t put them where they should be?” He raised his eyebrow but Izuku winced. Yeah no. Awkward. 

“I don't have a mom,” He watched Shinsou’s eyes widen a small curse slipping out, possibly life flashing before his eyes at the obvious fuck up. And Izuku got that he really did, not everyone had a shitty life situation like him. 

People usually don’t think whenever someone has a mom when they talk about simple matters because the social norm is that a kid has at least one parent or a guardian they could rely on. Izuku just wasn’t that norm-fitting kid for anything. 

“Oh,” Shinsous voice cracked. “Sorry-,” 

“It’s fine,” Izuku smiled, bumping his shoulder gently and setting off in a  direction to get out of the park and deeper into the city. “Don’t worry Shinsou if you ever offend me I’ll let you know,” Shinsou nodded following Izuku. 

They settled into a somewhat comfortable silence just trudging across the city. 

“So where are we going?” He looked at Shinsou who was looking at the stores they passed by, his eyes lingering on the displayed items only for small seconds as they moved along. Izuku wished he could zone out the same way, just for a little bit. 

“No idea,” He shrugged and Izuku blinked. Really?

“You invited me and you don't know where to go? You’re a bad friend,” He laughed as Shinsou gasped looking at him with wide eyes and mock shock on his face, his hand coming to rest on his chest. Izuku laughed sending Shinsou into a fit of giggles as well. 

“We’re friends?” Shinsou looked at him with a small smile on his face. 

“We can be? If that’s fine with you, that is,” Izuku saw Shinsou nod and something lifted from his chest. He had thought of them as friends before, kind of, but getting confirmation from Shinsou felt quite different. Dabi was a friend, sure, but this was different. He could be himself. 

“Cool,” 

They kept going pretty much nowhere just circling streets and looking at things both of them most likely had seen countless times already. Izuku sighed as they passed the street near the station the third time until something clicked in his head. 

“Wait, I know,” He said and sped off leaving Shinsou to catch up to him.  

“Midoriya, wait up,” Shinosu called, rushing after him, his longer legs falling in step with Izuku’s quicker stride with a small struggle.  

“Damn you, you’re fast for your stature,” He rushed out as Izuku just walked faster for the fun of it.

“I’m only a few centimeters shorter than you,” Izuku scoffed but slowed down in the end when Shinsou took a deep breath, clearly cursing out Izuku in his head. Izuku checked their location and turned towards the road that took them to a less populated area. 

Dagobah beach. It was a place, nothing more to say about it. It may be a beach but it was littered with trash piles that no one wanted to clean up as people just piled more and more every day. 

“You took me to a trash place?” Shinsou stopped right in front of the sign for Dagobah Beach, a little out of breath after fifteen minutes of walking faster than he seemed to be used to. For Izuku this was a normal walk around the city, when someone can come out of the dark and stab you, you tend to walk faster. 

“The beach actually, but technically to the trash pile as well,” Izuku chuckled, walked past the sign and stepped onto the sand. He could hear the sound of waves crashing against the rocks. Some seagulls were in the distance but the view was cut off by enormous piles of trash even the gentle breeze of wind that should ruffle their hair wasn’t present. Tragic. 

“Great,” Shinsou followed him, his gaze roaming around the trash. He could understand the boy's uncertainty but despite its look, this place was cool. Dangerous but fun, especially for two teenagers who had nothing to do. 

“Don't be so down it’s actually quite nice, there are quite a few things to find here,” Izuku looked around the piles. As far as he knew people actually dropped pretty good stuff here from time to time. Not like he went here often and picked up trash, but he’d seen some goodies here and there. One night after running away from some angry men that he fucked with just for fun he had settled here on a very nice couch and taken a nap. It was a little far from his home unfortunately so he didn’t go there often, many other things occupied his time. 

“What, like this? “ Shinsou pulled out a poster of a pineapple wearing a bikini. Yeah maybe it wasn’t the best but it was funky at least. 

“Nope, like this,” Izuku laughed, pulling a bat out. It was almost new, the only thing was paint coming off it but he saw no dents or cracks. Why would anyone throw such a good bat out, he had no idea but he found it and he would keep it. He looked at Shinsou who gaped at him and grinned. 

“Let’s spar,” He pointed the bat at Shinsou who took a step back, his eyebrows raising to his hairline. 

“What?”

“You heard me c'mon let’s spar,” Izuku walked towards Shinsou who gulped. 

“Do we have to? I’m not good at hand-to-hand,” 

“That’s fine, I wasn’t either,” Izuku laughed as Shinsou pretended to have a heart attack, his gaze sharp on him. “That’s past tense, my friend,” 

“You scare me Midoriya,” Shinsou watched him as Izuku flexed his wrist with the bat. The weight was good. He smiled softly and set the bat down gesturing for Shinsou to come to the clearing where they didn’t pose a danger of flying onto something sharp and staying there. Izuku may walk it off like nothing but as far as Izuku knew Shinsou was just a meat suit not made to get stabbed and laugh it off. 

“C’mon Shinsou it’s not like you have anything better to do,” Shinsou sighed, messing his head with his fingers. He groaned. 

“Fine, but you’re paying for my hospital bill,” 

“Certainly,” Izuku grinned and Shinsou just sighed again. 

Izuku stood gesturing for Shinsou to come at him. He may never have had professional help to learn hand to hand but fighting almost every night had helped him hone his skills that mostly came from observing heroes every day for years. At first, he was barely keeping up with his mind, his body awkward and fumbling with moves but eventually his instincts kicked in and he could hold himself decently enough. Of course, big opponents and quirks still posed a threat to him because of simple logic but he was a-okay most of the time. And keeping a sharp knife on himself was also a thing. Now he could add a bat to it. 

Shinsou rushed towards him, his arm pulled back for a punch, Izuku grinned sidestepping. He grabbed Shinsou's arm as he stopped, staggering trying to move away but Izuku had his hold tight and he let the momentum of Shinsou's own weight pull him over and land on his back, Izuku still holding his arm tightly. 

“Oh my god I’m dead,” Shinsou wheezed, getting up and rubbing his back as Izuku let go of his arm. 

“Not you’re not,”

“I’m dying,” Shinsou got up on his wobbly legs. 

“I only flipped you over,” Izuku shrugged. Shinsou gave him a look rubbing his arms. Perhaps he had grabbed too hard, but he didn’t know how much Shinsou weighed and if he didn’t use enough force to start the movement Shinsou would have just fallen face-first into sand over his hip and that was just not what he was going for. 

“You’re a toothpick who just flipped me over like nothing,” Shinsou patted his body down, getting rid of the sand that clung to his clothes, it was a futile attempt as the sand only seemed to shift around and not get off. He groaned, giving up. 

“Because you’re unstable as fuck, your centre of gravity is too high so it’s easy to get you off your feet and well, down on the ground,” Izuku had noticed that Shinsou was carrying himself awkwardly like he didn’t know what he was doing and he probably didn’t. It wasn't really normal to know hand-to-hand at the tender age of fourteen turning fifteen. Izuku was just a weird case. 

“Uhm, show me how to do that,” Shinsou rubbed the back of his head and Izuku smiled. He could do that. He walked to Shinsou, pushed his feet apart for more stable footing and took his arms. 

“Ok go here, have your hip against my side, take my arm and just push me up with your hip and pull,” He set himself into a position for Shinsou to flip him over. It was a very basic move, that if drilled into simple muscle memory could be used as a way to escape someone trying to go for your throat. Of course, it was a game of luck of the momentum and proper hold and it didn’t always work since Izuku was smaller but Shinsou had those few extra centimeters on him and actually meat on his bones. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Shinsou adjusted his hold on Izuku’s arm. If Izuku didn’t have his hoodie on he was sure he would feel Shinsou's clammy hands but he just nodded. 

“Absolutely, if anything I have a healing quirk, remember?” It wasn’t easy to fuck up this move but breaking an arm and landing badly was a thing in every move. Izuku had experienced this on himself many times but the ground was somewhat even and he really could just heal if Shinsou decided to accidentally harm him. 

“Somehow it doesn’t make me feel better,” Shinsou laughed awkwardly. 

“Just trust your own body,” Izuku prompted him to try as Shinsou adjusted his hold once more, taking a deep breath. 

“Ok, lemme just-,” 

“I’ll count, three, two on- holly,” Izuku's world was tilting and he was on his back staring at Shinsou who gaped before letting go of his arm and pulling him up. Izuku blinked. 

“Is this okay?” Shinsou asked, eyebrows raised but a small smile was on his face. 

“I think I just saw god,” Izuku whispered. The movement was really fast and Shinsou had bumped him enough to do it pretty much perfectly and on the first try too. He was a natural.

“Is that good or?”

“Yeah no it’s fine, you form? Absolutely perfect,” Izuku patted Shinsou's shoulder, giving him an encouraging smile. 

“Thanks?” Shinsou relaxed, dropping his shoulders. 

“Wanna know more?” 

“Definitely,” Izuku grinned.

The next hour, or so, Izuku spent showing different moves to Shinsou. The guy grasped some better than others, failed and succeeded but they had fun. Izuku threw Shinsou onto the sound more times than he could count and eventually his arms started to hurt and he knew that it meant that Shinsou had to be absolutely dying. 

They took a break, Shinsou taking five minutes to run to the store and grab some drinks after assuring Izuku that it was fine and he would pay for both of them. Shinsou didn’t know that Izuku was struggling with money but Izuku hadn't actually taken any cash with him either because the temptation of sweets would have him spending the last of his money. 

They sat on the bench overlooking the beach, a part of it that was still decently clean only because there was a wooden ramp extending onto the beach and people were smart enough not to at least shield that with trash. 

“I was wondering,” 

“Hmm?” Izuku looked at Shinsou who finished his drink and threw it into the trash can. 

“Do you want to be a hero or something?”

“Why do you ask?” Izuku sap up straighter. Somehow he knew that this talk would come along, everyone wondered about it. Hero. Many people wanted to be one but not Izuku. Shinsou shifted by his side, most likely feeling Izuku’s lack of comfort at the question. 

“I mean you know hand to hand, you defended that woman that day and stuff, so it fits you know, and to be honest almost every kid wants to be a hero nowadays,” Shinsou explained and yeah logically it makes sense. Kids nowadays tended to try and train on their own before going to hero schools, not many succeeded but it wasn't that weird or rare. It’s not like they became pros or anything but Shinsou had a point. He did know hand-to-hand and acted like a hero that day despite being quite rude but it could be chalked up to his personality easily enough. Even if he didn’t think he acted aggressively that much. 

“Do you?” He asked instead of answering because the ball of emotions welled up in his throat and he wasn’t sure how to decipher it, at least enough to give an answer that didn’t sound like a lame excuse. He knew he shouldn’t be justifying himself for not wanting to be something but in a world where heroes were worshipped at his age not to want to be one? Yeah, no that asked for a proper answer otherwise people pointed at you and to you you’re weird. Different. Izuku had far too much of that in his life for his taste. 

“You didn't answer my question,” Shinsou shifted by his side and Izuku just kind of shut down. 

“Right,” Izuku laughed, rubbing his arms, and staring at the sand stuck to his shoes. 

“No, I-no,” He finally managed to say and it’s so small and pitiful he laughed again rubbing his neck. 

“No?” Shinsoo's hesitant and it was good, it was all well and good and it meant that he wouldn’t pry too much because he was uncertain whenever Izuku wanted this conversation. And he wholeheartedly, definitely didn't. He pushed through as much as he could. 

“I don’t see myself as a hero, to be honest. Maybe before- Yeah but now, no,” After everything he's done being a hero would be kind of like spitting on his mother's grave. Like yeah, he went and did stupid shit, most likely got some people killed but no yeah change of career let’s be a hero. He couldn’t- wouldn’t. Not anymore. 

Shinsou hummed at his answer and Izuku felt his heart race. 

“I asked if you want to be a hero or not when you see yourself as one-,”

“I told you I don't, didn't I?” Izuku snapped. He felt guilty right after, his insides churning at raising his voice at a friend he just made because he finally came out of his comfort zone of wasting away and trying to jump off roofs. And yet it took some questions he shouldn't be really getting upset about because people are just curious but he took them badly, just spat out right back because he’s sensitive and tears were welling up in his eyes because he still hadn’t learned how not to cry. 

It was really pitiful. 

“Sorry that was uncalled for,” He whispered as his voice cracked so apparent that he was hurt or whatever. Shinsou reached out for his shoulder, placing his hand awkwardly, meant to be comforting but only really setting Izuku more on the edge. He could understand the sentiment though. 

“It's fine, can I ask why?” Shinsou slipped his hand away. 

“It's fine if you can't tell I'm definitely overstepping my boundaries today,” Izuku had said, that he would let Shinsou know and he definitely felt Shinsou pushing his boundaries more than he should have let him. But whenever he opened his mouth to tell someone to fuck off when he wasn’t running around at night with a wicked smile on his face he just felt powerless. He sometimes wondered if Kacchan really had beaten him down enough to lock up so much around people. 

“No it’s just- I don't know how to put it in words why not,” But the thing is he knew how. Because he’d been betrayed because he’d seen the worst of it. Because he knew how shitty heroes could be. However, that shouldn’t keep him from becoming one and maybe there was a reason why he always thought about it. But no he didn’t want to be a hero. 

It was a trap, one that made you happy until the day you broke but then you picked yourself up pretending to be happy again and Izuku couldn’t do that more than he already did. He couldn’t pick himself up, he only knew how to run away with lies and half-told truths in his wake. He didn't know how to be a hero. So he wasn’t going to try either. 

“I do,” Shinsou laughed weakly. 

“Hmm?” 

“You asked me if I wanted to be a hero, and yeah I do,” And it’s normal. Izuku knew that to be a hero, to want to be a hero was normal- expected. He didn’t want to patronise Shinsou only because they had different views. After all, they had different experiences in life concerning heroes. Heck maybe they had a similar experience and Izuku was assuming stuff, but that didn't mean they could have different responses. Izuku was running away, for all he knew Shinsou could have been embracing the harsh truth of the world and trying to change it for the better. 

“Parroting you back but why?” But he still asked because curiosity killed the cat and he was dead. Or trying to be.

“Why not?” His voice was filled with amusement and Izuku could agree in some way. 

“Well, truth to be told my quirk, uh people don’t really take it well, think it’s villainous, think I’m a bad guy when I just want to help people,” Oh, that made a lot of sense. People were mean towards those who didn’t have the right quirk, unfortunately. He expected this, and had an inkling that Shinsou wasn’t treated the best because brainwashing sounded pretty dangerous but that didn’t mean it was. Shinsou was anything but dangerous. 

“So it’s spite and pettiness?” He curled his eyebrow at him, controlling his tear ducts enough to face his friend finally. 

“Half of it, yeah, I want to prove to people that I can become a hero despite my quirk and well the other part of me just wants to help people, as simple as that,” Izuku smiled, it was a noble goal. Simple goal. 

“I see,” Izuku took a deep breath and something clicked in his brain. He wasn’t a good guy who could ever be a hero but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help someone else be. Because what did he have to lose? Absolutely nothing. Maybe free time but the more he was out of his apartment the better. 

“Shinsou,” 

“Yeah?” 

“I might not want to become a hero but that won't stop me from helping you,” 

“What?” Shinsou looked at him with bewilderment in his eyes but Izuku stood up and gestured for him to get back to training. Shinsou had a goal and Izuku would help him reach it, maybe it was his own pettiness and spite to get back at the hero world and maybe he just wanted to be there for people when no one could be there for him. He didn’t dwell on it, just watched in amusement as Shinsou stumbled after him with a quiet thanks on his lips. 

The phone broke the silence that had settled in the apartment after Aizawas' arrival back home and Hizashis cheerful leave for work. 

The sound roused Aizawa from his well-deserved sleep. It had better be worth it as he picked up the phone not even looking at the caller. 

“Aizawa, we might have a problem,” Tsukauchi gathered Aizawa’s attention instantly. Despite just waking up from a long night of patrol and having zero amount of coffee in his system he was awake as ever and got out of bed immediately. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s Yami,” Aizawa frowned. What had the Problem child gotten himself into now? 

“Is he okay?” If Yami was hurt Aizawa was ready to go to the other side of the city in a blink. He hoped that wasn’t the case though. He’d rather not pick up a kid bleeding out in some random alleyway, he only had so many nerves for kids and their inability to stay safe. 

“No yeah I'm sure he’s fine but I looked up his records over the last few months,” Tsukauchi laughed but he didn’t sound amused at all. 

“And?” 

“He’s been busy and not in a good way,” Aizawa sighed. Of course. 

“Get to the point Tsukauchi,” He shuffled to the kitchen setting up the coffee machine and listening to Tsukauchi nervously laugh again, the sound of papers being crinkled echoing over the phone. 

“I’m afraid the ‘kid’ is not as innocent as we think and rumours spread fast,” That didn't sound good at all. 

“What rumours,” Rumours were a bad thing. Rumours tore the mightiest of heroes stripping them away from all the money and fame they had. What could those do to kids and villains? Absolutely destroy them without leaving a trace. He’d seen villains fall to those. Heroes. And so many more. Rumours didn’t need a basis to be dangerous.

“Yami might as well be the most wanted criminal in Musutafu right now,” God fucking damn it. Of course, he was. 

“Shit,” He was out of his apartment as fast as lightning coffee was forgotten on the table. 

Chapter Text

“It’s a pleasure to meet with you again Yami,” 

“Nice to see you too Giran,” Izuku sat down on the same crate crossing his legs once again. He very much looked like the kid he was. Giran looked the same as last time, smoking his cigarette, the freakish smile still on his face. 

“I presume you have come with an answer?” Giran’s eyes glinted and Izuku had to suppress a shiver that wished to rack his body. He should have taken up Dabi’s idea of going together again, but it wasn’t good for business to have unwanted ears around. Especially with what Izuku had in mind. 

“Will it kill you not to be so creepy?” He absolutely hated the informator but he had to give it to him because he was good at his job in similar ways to Izuku. They both gave information for some price and got rid of people, in different ways, that betrayed them. 

Izuku definitely had a long way to go to catch up to Giran’s years of knowledge and experience, no matter how good he was at getting information nothing could beat experience. But he wondered why him, over Giran? Why was he, a kid, trusted more than an informator who had been working for the past nine years and seven months? It didn’t make sense.

“Still humorous as ever I see,” Giran chuckled at the sound echoing through the room. Yeah, no Izuku wasn’t a fan of that. 

“Only the best,” He wrinkled his eyes in a mock smile although he was anything but smiling. 

As much as he didn’t want to meet Giran again he kind of had to, he wasn’t entirely sure if he would take the deal yet. There was too little information known to him about this and he disliked going into things blindly. Especially with something as dangerous as this. He had enough experience to know when to fight and when to run.  

He knew that not everyone was familiar with Yami as a teenager because he tended not to show his face when he could. Some deals were more personal than others and he had to gain trust by showing his true self. Yet the fact that he was a kid wasn't that known. Everyone knew Yami, the name, but they didn’t know him as a person. 

“Let’s get straight to the point Giran, I have questions before I can give you an answer,” He watched Giran shift his stance changing to a more relaxed one as if he had won the cash already. Izuku clicked his tongue. 

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to answer all of them but go ahead,” Giran chuckled but Izuku smiled. He had this.

“Oh no, you will because your quirk allows you to have the upper hand in these types of conversations,” Giran’s quirk was definitely interesting and very useful in the world they lived in. 

“Someone has done their homework I see,” 

Of course, he had. From the quick search just after their meeting to a seven-hour-long study of information on Giran. He knew everything he could, his name, quirk, status, and family. You name it he knew it. 

He knew of Giran’s recent deals, knew of his trusted acquaintances, knew how the villain operated. It wasn’t easy to find but after months and months of searching for information from places he shouldn’t be, hacking, albeit somewhat simple, was a thing Izuku picked up. Files in modern society weren’t as scripted as everyone believed. Only the information that would harm society had those hard firewalls Izuku would never dream of getting past. He tried once and had to almost throw his computer out before the government came knocking on his door. 

“I come prepared,” He untangled his legs, swinging them over the side of the crate. 

“Then let us hear what you have to say,” 

“Right,” Izuku nodded. Let's get down to business. “Who is asking for me?” 

“Who isn’t Yami, half of the underground wants you in their clutches,” That wasn’t anything new, Izuku knew half of the underground world asked for him at all times and he knew his worth. But-

“Giran for the love of god please be cooperative,”  

“Certainly,” He chuckled, though it only got on Izuku’s nerves. He rather be out of here as soon as he could, he had other things to do. Like that homework he has been neglecting for the past five days but no one has to know about that. Teachers already berated him about that enough as it was. He wasn’t a bad student, just ‘busy’ outside of school. Not that anyone really thought what a little quirkless shit like him would do outside of school. 

Giran took a proper drag of his cigarette for once and dropped his smile, eyes taking a glint Izuku wasn’t familiar with. Sometimes old men who thought life was funny getting serious was the most dangerous act one could come by. Simple informators weren't an exception. More often than not they could wreck bigger havoc than those who had a shit ton of strength.

“They’re a group following the old beliefs, not like the new gangs with no systematic order,” He took another drag of his cigarette. 

“Yakuza?” Izuku pulled out his notes. He had to write this down. 

“That would be it,” 

“I only know of one running Yakuza that is influential enough, Shie Hassaikai,” Izuku twirled a pen in his hands watching as Giran chuckled, he didn’t like this chuckle. 

“There you have your answer,” Why would Shie Hassaikai need him of all people? He doubted the Yakuza paid much attention to him. Or did they? 

Apparently, they did and it wasn’t the most welcomed attention.

When he started his own gig he tried to spread the word of ‘Yami’ through his actions and eventually, he was successful but he didn’t think it would spread this far. As far as he knew Shie Hassaikai was based a little too far from Musutafu for him to appear on their radar, an hour's ride on the train. Either people knew about him that much or someone from Musutafu spread the word to the Yakuza. Whether it was a good or bad word didn’t matter. 

“Why do they need me?” He clicked his pen a few times, anxiety crawling through his limbs. 

“Knowledge is power Yami,” 

“Knowledge is power only when you have it, I doubt there’s something I would know for the Yakuza to have benefit,” He knew his stuff about heroes, about drugs and such. He mostly operated on finding people or pointing out the obvious flaws in certain groups. Sometimes gave up information on heroes he disliked enough, never enough information to kill them no. He was bad but he didn’t try to be a murderer in that aspect, if someone had to die, the first time would be by his own hand. 

“Don’t underestimate yourself Yami,” 

“Oh I’m not trust me,” He didn't doubt his worth nor did he play it higher than it actually was. He knew where the middle ground was. Knew his abilities and what he could gather and couldn’t. That was the principle of why he worked so well, he knew which deals to take because he knew if he would be able to do that or not.

“So Shie Hassaikai, what do they want?” He sighed.

“That is for you to find out as I do not know,” Giran smiled. Of course, he wouldn’t. If the Yakuza were smart they wouldn’t tell Giran unnecessary stuff. 

“This makes it stupidly hard,” But not new. He tried not to go in blind, he could probably gather stuff about Shie Hassaikai beforehand, but perhaps the snooping around would have him walking on the edge in the future. Who knew how much the Yakuza watched his every move. Even now they could be watching his response and then deducting whether they would shoot him in the head or not. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if he walked out nursing a new scar.

“Yami,” Izuku looked at the man who came closer to him, his smile gone once again.

“I shouldn’t be exactly telling you this,” Oh that line never ended well, “But Shie Hassaikai has been taking a large interest in Trigger as of late,” Huh? That was very interesting. 

“Trigger you say,” Out of all the drugs that they could be dealing it had to be Trigger the only drug he despised because of what it did to a human body. The only drug he actively tried to take down, was the recent case he heard that had been apprehended. The case he helped put together and left for Erasehead to pick up on that roof. Trigger. 

He briefly wondered if this was the reason he had been asked for. No one exactly knew it was Yami who shut down the groups. If Izuku had to guess, the police didn’t expose their sources. For the fear that they would be eradicated by the villains for spreading information. But people still talked and people knew Yami.

“I’m sure you’re more than familiar with this type of drug Yami,” 

“What are you insinuating Giran,” Izuku flicked his gaze from his notes to the man. Was he actually connected to all the disappearances of those drug-dealing parties? If so, that would be very much against him. But then the question as to why Shie Hassaikai wanted him got more complicated. 

“Oh just baseless rumours,” Right. Yami knew there was shit ton of those around him, concerning him and everything that he has done. He once heard some thugs thought he was a ghost of sorts and that people were hallucinating. It wasn’t anything over the top but he had fun scarring these exact thugs days later. 

“Enlighten me,” 

“Many say that the underground informator Yami makes deals with certain Trigger dealers for the benefits of his own quirk, rumours also state that Yami under the influence of Trigger may come back from the dead,” Ah. Deals that’s what this was about. Not that he took down these groups but made deals instead to strengthen himself. 

“I see, the rumours are certainly interesting,” That was the first time he heard of this and it was certainly interesting. He didn’t know how people made the connection, he’d only shown his quirk in its full capabilities to people he could count on his fingers and even then he was sure that a few of these people were already dead. 

His healing abilities were widely known even without the whole coming back from the dead thing but we had no way to control how much people actually knew, not often they saw a kid bleeding out and the next day walking around like nothing ever happened. When he had just started the whole thing he slipped up quite often. 

“Not going to deny them?” 

“What is there to deny Giran when I know my truth,” He couldn’t die, yes, but it had nothing to do with Trigger. And yet he wasn’t about to go tell the whole world that. 

“So? Yami what will it be?” Giran asked and Izuku sighed, right. Why was he even here? To either take or deny this job. The simple answer to such a complicated question. After finding out it was Shie Hassaikai he didn’t want to. Trigger, drug dealing he disliked that. He could look into that from an outside perspective not worrying about getting caught because no one but him knew what he was doing but working with Shie Hassaikai. He wasn’t ready for that. And yet. He really needed money. 

“Is the pay good? I’ll have to ask for half up front,” 

“That can be arranged,” Giran nodded his eyes glinting in such a way he knew the man understood the meaning behind this question. Many did and no one pitied anyone for that. Money was thought to come by especially when you were at the bottom of society. 

“Fine you know how to find me, this better not cost me my freedom,” Izuku jumped off his crate and made his way out of the warehouse, Giran bidding him goodbye as he wandered away. This was tiring. 

Izuku stared at the aisle of food in front of him and sighed. The few coins left in his pocket mocked him as he picked a can of energy drink forgoing soda for something stronger and headed for the register. He had homework to do tonight. 

He paid quickly, noting that he had enough to grab something decent tomorrow to eat, and escaped the store into the cold night air. It was quite chilly tonight and rain was promised later but Izuku stared outside, unsure what to do. He should head home, he really should but he didn’t feel like it, not yet at least.

The meeting with Giran left him exhausted, he still had his hair coloured but his contacts were out. His eyes itched, so badly. The first thing he should get was contacts when he got the money. He was starting to almost clearly see the green underneath the red. The only thing keeping him safe for now was the dark of the night.

He took the deal though. Was it a good decision? Probably not. Shie Hassaikai was a group he couldn’t just ghost because he found some loopholes that would have him dead. The Yakuza would just come for him if he ditched them because he already knew too much, he knew he knew too much. 

“That’s not really enough for a kid your size,” A voice spoke up and Izuku yelped, almost dropping his drink. He turned around to see Aizawa standing behind him not in his hero costume but in civilian clothes for a change- holding a bag of groceries. The logo of the shop he had just walked out of staring right back at Izuku. How did he not notice the hero if the shop was so fucking small?

“And can you not sneak up on me?” Izuku hissed, popping his drink open, his other hand coming for his hood and throwing it over his head. Shit. His hair. Really the worst time Aizawa could have met him.

“I was pretty loud,” Aizawa rounded him to stand in front of Izuku, his steps loud and movements wide enough for Izuku to see each and every shift of the hero's body. 

He knew Aizawa was deliberately making him very noticeable but that was not what he needed right now. Izuku shifted to a less lit-up area hoping that the shadows would hide his hair enough to make it seem natural that his locks had gotten black out of nowhere. 

He knew letting Eraserhead see him like this would once backfire. The hero would figure him out in two seconds and then would drag his ass to the police station immediately. Even if Aizawa had been rather docile on the rooftop that other night it was only because Izuku provided information for a case he knew the police had been struggling with.

It was calculated. Eraserhead tolerated him enough for his own benefit the moment Izuku slipped up was the moment the hero took him by his scruff and put him into a cell like a cat on timeout after trying to steal food. 

“Whatever,” Izuku was glad he at least took out his contacts beforehand, otherwise it would have been a disaster. He could hide his hair, but his freckles were too recognizable. Those four very apparent dots on each of his cheeks mocked him. 

“Have you eaten?” The hero asked instead of saying anything about Izuku hiding and not looking at the hero, but the question startled Izuku anyway. 

“What?” He glanced briefly at the hero who simply stared him down with no emotion on his face. 

“You heard me. Food?” He raised his bag to make his point, despite it not giving Izuku any information he needed. What was the hero doing?

“Uh, yes?” Izuku tried not knowing what to say. He hadn't eaten, sure, but it was almost two in the morning so it wasn’t that weird. Though telling the hero that wasn't the best idea. He had plans to meet at Dabi’s to grab a quick meal there but upon finding out that Dabi went on an arson spree on the other side of the town he didn’t bother breaking into his apartment for a lousy granola bar. 

“Then I’m sure you staring at the food aisle was just a figment of my imagination,” Aizawa shifted in his place and Izuku winced. He knew he had been looking at the food section far longer than he should have but he had no idea that the hero was in the store to think about it. It was late and he was tired. He hadn't had a sip of his energy drink because Aizawa decided to confront him about something like food. 

Whatever. 

“Seriously Eraserhead are you stalking me?” 

“No at all,” The hero said but Izuku heard a hint of sarcasm. At least the hero was aware of how ridiculous their meetups seemed although it was only the third one for Izuku and Aizawa, but days seemed to blur together for him. 

“I'll believe you when I see you less than twice a week,” Izuku mumbled, staring at his drink and taking a large gulp. Oh yeah, that's the shit. 

“This is the first time we’ve met in the last seven days,” Aizawa looked at him with his eyebrow raised and Izuku sighed. Right. Yami, and Izuku - two different people. It wasn't his fault the hero appeared almost everywhere he went. 

“Forget it,” Izuku mumbled, turning to walk away from the front of the store they seemed to be stuck at. He had to go home. If he had to decide between staying out and having Eraserhead breathe down his neck or staying at his quiet house reminded of everything he’d done he’d choose the latter. He liked Eraserhead but only when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass and threatening Izuku’s freedom.

“C'mon kid, there's a 24/7 ramen place around the corner,” Aizawa called out and Izuku stopped. What?

“Uh?”

“Food, I’ll treat you,” He gestured for Izuku to follow him.

“Uhm no? You don't have to do that, I said I ate,” Even if his body was screaming for food he didn’t want to be around the hero more than necessary.

“Kid just by looking at you I can see that you’re not getting proper nutrients, also didn’t you tell me the first time we met you had a case of weeping wallet, which implies your struggle with money?” Izuku narrowed his eyes. What right did the hero have to talk about his financial status? Where are all the adults like this? Thinking they could say anything just because they were older?

“And you should stop analyzing my life, who knows. Maybe it’s just my allowance that I'm low on, my mother is feeding me alright,” He hissed. 

“The Izuku Midoriya I know has not had a loving mother for the last one and half a years,” Izuku froze. What? No way.

“You-” He gulped, not believing what he just heard.  “You looked me up? What the fuck,” 

“Kid-,” Aizawa winced. Good. 

Izuku couldn't believe the hero. He, of course, hated that he was always following him around, it interfered with his work and put a shit ton of things at risk. He didn’t want to get caught but god damn it this wasn't it. A part of him was glad Aizawa cared, part of him wanted to go with the hero to eat and have a nice meal for once but that part disappeared as soon as Aizawa opened his mouth. 

He knew the hero would look him up. Sooner or later the hero would look at him with a  worried glance and remind himself that he needed to check the kid out just in case. And Izuku didn’t exactly blame him for it but telling him out right that he did? That he went and looked Izuku up despite having the possibility to just ask him instead? He went on and looked shit up because he couldn’t ask questions like a normal human?

“Don’t kid me, that shit is an invasion of privacy and even as a pro hero you have the right to do so doesn’t mean it makes it fucking okay, we just met two times and you think you have the right to analyse my life?” He said knowing that Aizawa could hear the way his throat closed up familiarly. Shit, he was about to cry. 

He would have answered Aizawa at some point. He knew that if the hero was persistent enough Izuku would have given in at some point and told him some parts of his life because he had no one to console him and no one knew how much he was struggling. He would never talk about Yami and would never get close enough to the hero to do so, but shit he could have finally had a figure in his life he trusted enough to tell that he didn’t really know what to do with life after junior high because he had nowhere to go. His quirkless status was still a red line on his records despite it not being true anymore.

“Izuku listen-” Aizawa tried but Izuku shook his head, his voice raspy as he interrupted.

“It’s Midoriya shit head, now leave me alone,” He didn’t want to do this. 

“Midoriya,” He tried again but Izuku just shook his head, his hand coming to pull down on his hood as much as he could trying to hide away the few tears that escaped. He shouldn't be crying but he was. 

“No, go away, you just broke any trust I had in you even though I didn't know I had any,” He didn't think about it but Aizawa felt safe. The hero Erasehead felt safe to his ears. Unlike All Might who went from a symbol of peace in his mind to a man who chose the people to save. Unlike any other hero Izuku had met, Erasehead was someone who cared. Apparently, he was just as much work as anything else to the hero. And it hurt unreasonably, it hurt enough for Izuku to think he had a chance. 

He didn’t know what else he was expecting.

“I apologise,” Aizawa tried stepping closer to him but Izuku jumped back. 

“Please don't, it just makes me feel shittier,” The hero sighed, reaching into his pocket, a pen and paper in his hands. He scribbled something down before trusting it into Izuku’s field of vision even if it was blurry because of the tears. 

“Goodnight, Midoriya, take my number. Call me if you need anything,” He let the paper fall into Izuku’s palm before disappearing, leaving Izuku alone. He stared at the number angrily and pushed it into his pocket. 

“You think it was smart to do?” Izuku lounged around on a set of emergency stairs just a few blocks from the place he met Giran two days later wondering if the man would ‘accidentally’ meet him here or give a sign. 

He eventually called Dabi to tell him everything he found out. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, who knew, maybe he was targeted so he shouldn’t tell someone else, outside this job. The Yakuza would probably pull tabs on every person Yami came in contact with after. Most likely were doing that already but hey he was a teenager who did dumb things and Dabi was the only one he trusted enough to share about his job. Dabi did find him this job even if it held more danger than he usually signed up for. 

But money was money. 

“I don’t know man, Shie Hassaikai sounds like trouble,” Dabis didn’t sound worried at all but Izuku knew the guy and he was ready to save Izuku any moment. Maybe he felt bad about bringing this job up and putting it on Izuku's table for grabbing.

“You tell me, if I wasn’t really short on money I might have declined,” Izuku ran his hand through his hair, sighing. It was a long night and he should be getting home, he hadn’t slept the night before and it was really taking a toll on him. Tomorrow was school again and he’d rather not sleep in late and make a bigger target on his back than usual by being late. 

Teachers already were lowering his grades as it is because of his stupid decision about U.A., he should go ask to change it to a third option or something. Maybe the teachers would be more merciful. His lack of homework really got on their nerves as it was even though he handed in most of it today. 

They were never pleased with him. 

“And have the whole Yakuza on your ass?” Izuku laughed, okay. Yeah. Dabi had a point. 

“Probably but that’s beside the point, Dabi,” He smiled, “Think you- whoa,” Metal beams embedded into the wall just by his side, one hitting his leg and pretty much running through it and making him scream. Shit that hurt

“You alright?” Dabi stressed from his end. 

Izuku looked around, noticing a hero standing at the end of the alley with a huge grin on his face. He didn’t recognize the steel beam-throwing guy but he doubted someone like him would even catch Izuku's gaze on any other day. 

“Uh, I think I might need to call back,” He gritted through the pain. This wasn’t ideal at all. 

“Need help?” Izuku heard shuffling from the other side, Dabi probably getting up and ready to go save his bony, miserable ass. 

“Nah it’s fine I have a bat with me,” Izuku took the weapon he had placed on the ground by his feet. He was very much glad to have been dragged out by Shinsou to find this gem in the trash pile.

“ A what-,” 

“Call me later bye,” He put his phone down, pocketing it safely hoping that it wouldn’t fall out. He glanced down at his leg, bleeding out fast. Izuku was glad the metal beam wasn’t much longer than his forearm and didn't get in the way of moving around, but damn did it hurt.

He looked at the hero, narrowing his eyes and adjusting his mask. 

“You know it’s not good manners to attack without warning,” Izuku glanced at steel beams in the wall, longer than the one in his leg. The metal didn’t seem all that strong, maybe copper, as they were slightly bent entering the wall. He pursed his lips looking at the hero who was ready to throw another beam at him. 

“Don't care kid you’re coming with me,” The hero grinned, swinging back and letting the beam sail directly at him once again. Izuku shot up, catching the broken part of the stairs above his head and pulling himself up with one hand. 

Okay, that was harder than he thought it would be. He needed to work out more, and eat, definitely eat. And maybe the hole in his leg didn’t help much. 

“I am? No one told me,” He looked around. If he could get to the other roof he would probably be able to jump a few buildings over. If he remembered correctly there was a small escape tunnel down a few buildings that was shielded away from alleyways and streets. It led to a very narrow path that connected with a shabby bar. He just needed to get over there. 

“Shut your trap and surrender,” The hero rushed towards him, his quirk making the steel beam right out of his hand and pushing up to the same emergency stairs he was just staying on. 

Shit he had to move fast. The beam in his leg caught on something and ripped at the wound, he cursed under his breath and held down the scream that wanted to push out. Even if he couldn’t die, the pain was still a thing. 

“Nah, that's too easy,” Izuku grinned, his smile lopsided under his mask. He climbed the broken stairs as high as they would go before reaching for the ledge of a window sill and jumping off the stairs. His arm strained before he dug his bat into the building, hitting it on the uneven brick and pushing himself up to crouch on the window sill. It was narrow as fuck but at least he was far away from the hero. 

He rested his wounded leg over the edge, the pain pushing and keeping him alert. 

“Why do you want me anyway?” He locked his gaze on the hero who stood still underneath him, his gaze wandering around. Most likely trying to find ways to trap him. 

“You’re Yami right?” The hero made another round steel bar just smaller this time and thinner too. He twirled it in his hands. Izuku followed the movement with his own grip tightening on the bat.  

“As far as I know,” He laughed, holding his bat close. 

“Well you’re wanted criminal now, there’s a big reward for your capture,” The hero grinned and jumped. Izuku yelped, leaping back on the stairs, the hero right behind him. He bit his lip at the pain and got himself on the roof, pushing all the strength he had in his legs to grab the edge of the roof and haul himself up. The hero quickly got on his feet climbing right after him. 

If not for the wound he would be out of there already and away from the hero. But he had no choice but to fight him and hope he had enough strength to knock him out.

“Right, money,” Izuku sighed. When it wasn’t about money to heroes. 

“In that case, I'll have to disappoint you and not give up,” Izuku rushed at the hero swinging his bat. He missed but he wasn’t aiming anyway, or at least he told himself that because as he ran his foot dragged by his side making him stumble and almost fall face-first into the concrete. Yeah, he wasn't really aiming.

“That’s alright I’ll capture you anyway,” The hero grabbed a hold of his hoodie and swung him around, Izuku screamed as he was sent flying. He landed on his side, the thing in his leg shifting. Fucking hell. Looking around Izuku noted that there were a lot of broken roof pieces lying around him. He grunted, getting up. 

“That's cute,” He gasped out and threw a piece of debris nailing the hero in the head. 

“Hey!” A laugh bubbled out of Izuku’s throat, subduing as he felt the phone in his pocket buzz. Dabi was most likely calling.

“Sorry no capturing will be done today,” He laughed again. Damn was he high on adrenaline or pain? He wasn’t sure anymore. He took another piece of concrete and threw it at the hero again. 

“You little-”

“Woah, calm down big guy,” Izuku stumbled away from the oncoming hero. He pushed through the pain, his leg not working that well anymore but the wound had started to close up a tiny bit and wasn’t bleeding as much anymore. If he could just-

“Stay still you little shit,” Izuku circled away from the hero as he got more frustrated. 

“You’re a hero, aren't you? That's not nice to say,” Izuku taunted leaning on his bat. He glanced down at his leg, he probably should pull the thing out but it would make him bleed again and he’d probably faint from the blood loss.

“Come back here,” The hero rushed at him and Izuku sighed, it was now or never. 

“I don't think I will, I need to go so we’ll have to cut our chase short. Thank you for this wonderful night and goodnight,” He muttered under his breath, ducking under the hero's hold and swinging his bat as hard as he could at the hero's head, hearing a sickening crack, his arms shaking as the hero fell to the ground. Izuku looked down at him. Fuck. 

He picked up the buzzing phone in his pocket, answering it without a second thought. 

“Dabi,” He breathed out through pain, “I think I fucked up,” He said looking at the hero bleeding out right in front of him. He really fucked up. 

Chapter Text

Tsukauchi had his nose pinched the moment Aizawa stepped into the station. 

“Tsukauchi,” He greeted the tired detective who looked at him with a sigh. The nights following the call had been rough on both of them for different reasons. Aizawa had been pushed to look out for the troublesome teenager more than he initially thought and as far as he knew Tuskauchi had been fighting off the higher-ups for days now. 

“Oh thank god, Aizawa, the situation is bad,” He collapsed in his chair, a loud groan eliciting a worried gaze from his coworkers. It was no surprise there as far as Aizawa heard the higher-ups were a bunch of idiots who treated the kid like some S-grade villain, which was totally unnecessary. 

“I’ve heard some things here and there,” And what he heard wasn’t that good.

Yami was more involved in the villain world than they had initially thought. He wasn’t seen as a troublesome teenager vigilante who caused havoc wherever he went and stuck his curious nose where he shouldn't have anymore. But the stance shifted to view him as a full-fledged villain. Aizawa did not wish to be put in a spot that made him treat the kid as such. He knew Yami wasn’t a villain like the higher-ups wanted them to believe. There was simply no way. 

“He’s been a prominent presence for quite a bit, a few months before he came up on our radar but damn it, Aizawa the shit he’s done,” As much as the hero didn’t want to admit to it but listening to Tsukauchi list off the most recent endeavours of the said teenager his hope to get the kid out safely left him slowly. If they could have easily gotten the kid out with simple remedial courses of social norms then- now a prison sentence was the easiest way he could get out of this. If freedom was even a choice.

“What are the higher-ups thinking?” Aizawa sighed. He knew what they were thinking. Seize the kid and get him locked up till he turns thirty. That's how the world operated. It was a shit system but the government didn’t care about kids when they needed help. They just saw a villain and ran with it. 

Kids needed help, not some cell to rot away the rest of their lives in. It applied to many other individuals that ran rampant as well. The treatment of society to a certain demographic of people was absolute shit, no wonder they ran around trying to make a living in morally grey ways if the society had them pushed out of it.

“They placed a hefty sum on his head, all police stations around Japan have been notified and are kept alert in case he moves. The heroes in Musutafu had been briefed and were to report immediately if they saw him,” Around Japan? The kid only moved around Musutafu. Why involve the whole country? 

“I don’t get it, he couldn’t have possibly done something so bad that they have so many people mobilized,” Aizawa rubbed his eyes. 

“Exactly that bothers me Aizawa, I’m sure the higher-ups know something we don’t,” Tsukauchi rubbed the back of his head, and their eyes met, understanding flashing between both of them. The government only really bothered with this if they had something to gain, otherwise, they wouldn’t give two cents about the kid and would be fine with him being locked up like any other villain. Something was definitely up. 

“That complicates things,”

“Right, you think you’ll get him to trust you now that every hero around is on him? It will be soon until he catches up to what’s happening, I hope he'll lay low for that time being until it settles to something reasonable,”  Aizawa chuckled. As if Yami would. 

As far as he knew the kid he never sat still. If he wasn’t being a menace to society or the police he just moved around the underground leaving his trace here and there, just enough to be remembered but not found. Aizawa feared the day he’d been found. The day Yami slipped up it was all over and Aizawa would have to watch the kid being stripped of everything and thrown into prison or whatever the government wanted to do with him. He hoped he would get to the kid before that happened. With the help of Tsukauchi maybe, hopefully, he would be able to pull Yami out of whatever was happening. 

The door slammed open, a cat-like, police officer rushing in painting. Sansa. “Detective sir! Yami has been spotted-'' Aizawa was on his feet rushing out of the door shouting after himself. 

“Send me the coordinates I’m going,”

“Right!” This was his opportunity. 

Izuku stumbled across the rooftops still bleeding out but he was almost at the bar where he could hopefully slip through without gathering attention. He didn’t look his best to deal with some overgrown children trying to pick a fight, plus he did actually know the owner of the bar to be granted the ‘VIP’ pass. Which essentially meant he could break havoc without consequences. He’d been thrown out of too many bars for him to count because he was such a little shit, but with the right information and the right words, some bar owners didn’t mind him coming and going and doing whatever the fuck he wanted. 

He slid to the door listening in. It was definitely loud which meant it was crowded as shit. Good and bad. Good because he could slip through without gathering attention. Bad because going through with his stature and bleeding leg was going to be a challenge. 

He hoped Dabi would hurry his ass the fuck up. 

He cracked the door open pushing through the bodies. He gently or as gently as he could when someone was pushing their disgusting stomach into his face he showed the man away. The man let out a loud yell and there went the ‘not drawing attention to himself’ idea. He hissed, ducking his head when someone tried to reach him. He stumbled to the side, knocking his shoulder into a wall. 

He hated how small he was. 

“Watch where you're going,” Someone hissed at him and Izuku yelled out a sorry, bumping into another guy as he tried to get through the crowd. Why were there so many people here? Usually, they were more spread through the bar. As far as Izuku knew this bar had at least two other rooms. No way the rest of the rooms were all this crowded as well. 

He bumped into another guy who snarled at him and reached for his hoodie, pulled and Izuku was flying. He knew he was small and yeah he was down a leg but he didn’t think that a pull and flick from a guy two times his size would have him falling through a door he was sure was for private meetings. And to his luck, the room was occupied. 

This explained the bar's crowdedness but that’s beside the point. 

He landed hard, his back crashing and breaking a cheap stool. It may be cheap but wood hurts no matter what. 

Izuku coughed, looking back out the door to see the guys wanting to come in but stopping once they realised where they were. And yeah Izuku got that. Interrupting private meetings? Yeah no, no one did that. Including Izuku but here he was sprawled on the floor, bleeding out and looking up at the three occupants of the room. His stomach twisted. 

“Yami?” Giran? Oops. This was definitely where he shouldn't be. The other man, clearly in the middle of talking with Giran, looked at him with eyes lit with the fires of hell. Well fuck. 

“Hello,” Izuku laughed, getting up, and brushing off the dust that gathered on his clothes. He grimaced at his leg and decided to finally pull out the bar and clutch it in his other hand. He bit his lip getting the rod out clean just causing some more bleeding and black spots in Izuku's eyes. He giggled. Wow, this was new.  

“What the fuck happened?” Giran hissed out his eyes flicking between Izuku and the other guy. Izuku looked down at himself and grimaced, why was he laughing anyway? He had no idea. He wasn’t the most presentable. A bloody bat in one hand, a bloody copper rod in another. Bleeding out of his leg and covered in blood himself. Hair all over the place and the mask holding on for dear life. And he giggled some more staggering backwards, his sight fuzzy.

Must have hit his head. Yeah, that must be it. 

Izuku cleared his throat, wincing. He roamed his gaze around the room, noting that some bar occupants were peering into the room eyes filled with curiosity, some whispering- why was there a child bleeding out and laughing? Izuku turned his head waving at the people with his bat and turned back to Giran and the other guy with some small kid? A person- with him. 

They both had masks, bird-like ones that were commonly associated with plague- wait. He knew those masks. 

“Shie Hassaikai,” He noted the other man standing up and humming to himself, his gaze flicking all over Izuku. It made him very uncomfortable. He felt like he was being analysed and put on the spot. How much was he worth? What could he do? And so on. Izuku didn’t like being on the receiving end of eyes that starred in someone's soul. 

“You’re Yami?” The man finally growled out, his voice low and obscured by the mask but Izuku still heard him loud and clear. The disgust in his voice was evident. 

“Sure am,” Izuku bowed briefly, it wasn't out of respect, no it was pure spite and cockiness that he should one day knock out of himself, it never ended well. 

The people outside the room seemed to have heard his name this time as small gasps ran out and whispers intensified. No one still dared to enter the room. 

Izuku signed shifting on his legs, he really needed to lay down. 

“You’re a kid,” The man pointed out. As if he didn't know that. Geez. 

“Well, I'm sure you knew what you were getting into when sending Giran after me,” Izuku chuckled, tapping his bat against his good leg. 

“Overhaul, don’t be so quick to judge,” Giran spoke up after staying silent, his eyes flicking to Izuku. Overhaul huh? He tilted his head at Giran as a thank you. Information was given to him so easily. At least he wouldn’t have to dig for hours just for a name. 

“I didn’t expect a literal teenager obviously lacking manners.” His gaze snapped to Izuku’s bleeding leg which was staining the floor. He lifted it laughing. 

“Listen dude- Overhaul, whatever, we can easily break the deal off, but I kinda really need the money so you’ll have to deal with me,” He waved his bat. “Plus I did bow you know, my manners are excellent, I would extend my hand for a handshake but ah, I’m rather occupied,” He brought both of his hands up waving them around, small splatters of blood landing on the floor around him. Oops. 

Overhaul's eyes snapped to the mess he made and Izuku put his hands down quickly. 

Izuku didn’t wait for his reply and bowed again. 

“Now gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be,” Turning to the door he winked at them and left, leaving a trail of blood in his wake but at least people parted the path to the door seeing the bloodied bat and a rod in his hand. 

People whispered around him, watching him with careful eyes. Surely his name must have spread from the few guys that stood listening in on their conversation. And Overhaul said he didn’t have manners, obviously, he didn’t look at others.

Izuku successfully made his way through the crowd, thankful for not stumbling even once due to pain that was creeping up his leg and starting to hurt in his hip. Infection? Probably. Maybe even sepsis. Ugh. Those sure worked fast through his body. 

He neared the bar door, one guy not moving but staring him down with his brows furrowed. 

“Hey big guy, wanna move a little?” Izuku asked, trying to reach for the door but the guy didn’t move, only grunted and Izuku sighed. Must this always be this hard? Couldn’t he just have one day without being threatened or having difficulties getting somewhere? 

“You’re Yami? The famous informator who’s talking underground by storm?” The guy grunted instead, raising his eyebrow. And well okay he would love to chit chat but Izuku was sure Dabi would be here any minute and he needed to go home. 

“Would it change anything if I said yes? I’m sure the guys already spread what they heard in that room. I don't know why you’re making this more difficult than it should be.” Izuku tried for the door once again but another guy stood in front of him, normal size for one. Just tall and well-shirtless. 

“Didn’t know Yami was a small kid,” The other guy laughed earning a few chuckles from people around them and Izuku nodded to himself. Yeah, he got that. 

“This small guy,” He pointed to himself, “Just pulled a copper rod out of his leg because it was getting in the way, if you don’t let me walk out of this bar right now I will shove the same rod so far up your ass you’ll see how funny that is,” Izuku hissed. He wasn’t necessarily intimidating but pulling something out of yourself wasn’t exactly number one on people's list of entertainment. Everyone knew that once something was- it was hell to get it out and not bleed out.

Izuku knew pain and knew that it wasn't played around with. So he moved forward striking the rod against the smaller guy, making him bend forward clutching his stomach. Izuku leaned towards his ear tapping the rod against the man's shoulder. 

“If this hurt, imagine that going right through your stomach,” He turned around looking at the occupants of the room. 

“Remember, piss me off and the next thing you’ll see is a prison cell, I don’t get angry easily but I swear to god right now I’m not here to play games,” He bowed in mock respect and added. 

“And you know the rumour of me apparently coming back from the dead with Trigger? Well,” He paused. 

“It's not like I haven’t already,” The door was clear as Izuku staggered his way out. His smile slipped off his face as the metal door clicked shut behind him. His arms shook as he leaned against the brick wall. 

Izuku swayed on his feet. He was starting to really feel that blood loss, the whole walking and running around didn’t help the healing process as much either. He cursed under his breath waiting for Dabi to finally put speed behind his run and come get him otherwise he’d pass out in the alleyway. Maybe die from that infection that was burning his leg.

But hey? What else was new?

His gaze swayed and it was starting to get dark. Shit. It had been a while since he fainted wouldn’t be fun to collapse in some random alleyway beside a bar. Who knew maybe the occupants would want to pick a fight with him in a few minutes. He wouldn't be surprised. 

“Kid?” Izuku froze, oh no. No, it couldn’t be. He looked up at a very startled Aizawa looking at him, his eyes dancing between his leg, the bat and the stupid rod he still held onto. All covered in blood. 

“Hey,” Izuku lazily greeted the hero and took a step back, Aizawa didn’t need to know that he lost his balance there and almost fell.  

“Are you okay?” The hero's gaze stayed on his leg mostly which was starting to get numb, and pain starting to seep deeply into his hip. Of fuck. 

“Magnificent,” He smiled, not that anyone ever saw that he did but it added to the effect of his own stupidity that he thought was confidence 

“Let me help you,” Eraserhead tried to come close but Izuku jumped back, his legs tangling as he tripped and almost went down. 

“Didn’t I tell you to go away?” Izuku slurred out, ah fuck. He did tell Aizawa that but shit he was Yami now. He had to remember he was Yami now and telling something like this might just clue in the hero about his real identity and he didn’t need Eraserhead on his ass more than necessary. Every time he repeated that in his head like a mantra and yet each and every time he felt like he was failing at keeping himself away from the hero.

“Kid, let me bandage your leg,” Aizawa didn’t stop, didn’t even bat an eye at his comment or at least didn't show that he was surprised by what he said. 

“No, no it’s fine it’ll heal,” Izuku tried but he was barely standing as it was, which didn’t add to his reply at all. 

“You'll bleed out before that happens,” Eraserhead hissed, eyes meeting Izukus with such fierce emotions Izuku stopped briefly taking a deep breath. Wasn’t he angry at the hero? 

“Heh, would be funny,” He laughed with the breath he let out, which just sounded like he was choking on saliva. He would most likely bleed out soon, the bleeding hasn't stopped that much, just a little, crusting around the edges. Since when did injuries take this long to heal? Was the hero he hit bleeding like this out too? But their injuries were different, Izuku was bleeding out from a puncture and the guy just simply got hit - wait

“Shit I left him on the rooftop,” Izuku groaned. Damn it. 

“What are you talking about?” Eraserhead asked, reaching out for him and this time Izuku didn’t have the strength to jump back or really do anything. Aizawa held his arm as Izuku fought back the want to collapse in the hero's arms. He still was very much offended by what the hero had done about his civilian identity. That sort of thing didn’t get easily forgotten even if the anger had seeped out the very next moments as the hero left him that night. He didn’t know how to hold grudges against people he looked up to. Even if he hadn’t realized that. 

“Uh, a hero attacked me,” Eraserhead adjusted his grip on him to make Izuku lean not the hero regardless if he wanted to or not, Izuku really didn’t have the strength to complain.

”And I kinda bashed his skull with my bat and he started bleeding, I don't know if it’s because head wounds bleed so easily or I really fucked up there,” He sighed. He didn't entirely mean to knock the guy out, just stun him enough to get away. You know, hit-and-run tactic, or whatever. It worked obviously but maybe too well. Pain and adrenaline high had him wearing down his muscles more than needed. He wasn’t particularly too strong or ripped but he could pack a mean swing when he wanted. 

“I don't know which I’m more comfortable with,” He mumbled. 

“If he dies, know that I didn’t mean to,” Izuku lifted his head to stare at the hero who pressed his lips together, almost as if he had nothing to say and maybe he didn’t. Izuku dropped the rod he’d been carrying reaching for the wall and pushed at the hero to let him go. Aizawa complied, though his hands were hovering by his side nonetheless. The hero told him that he should sit down so he could bandage his leg finally but Izuku just shook his head. No. 

“Yami?” A shout reached his ears as he looked sideways, his whole body tipping forward as he slid down the wall. Fuck. Dabi rushed by his side catching him at the last moment, his breath ragged. 

“Damn it, Yami what the fuck,” Dabi pulled him up and Izuku chuckled. 

“Look who I met,” Izuku met the hero's eyes again and Dabi whispered a soft fuck adjusting his grip on Izuku. 

“Are you high?” Dabi asked instead, raising his eyebrow at his giggling even though he was halfway to la-la land by now. 

“I don't know but I’m like this close to passing out,” He showed his two fingers touching, “and I think I’m gonna cry so can you like get us somewhere where I can sit down before I have a whole ass breakdown in front of a hero I really kinda still respect you know,” Izuku mumbled before promptly passing out now that he knew he’d be fine. 

He may respect Aizawa and may feel safe with him but as Yami, he only trusted Dabi to black out completely. Eraserhead might mean good and whatnot but he didn’t know what his intentions were. Heroes were still heroes no matter who they were. And heroes didn’t treat criminals like him with patience and care, especially when word had been spread around and apparently he was being hunted down. Fun. 

“You okay there buddy?” Izuku groaned, rolling on the couch he had been put on. The scent of burn made it known that it was Dabi’s apartment. 

“Why do I feel like shit?” Izuku cracked his eyes open, reaching to gently scrub at them. His whole body ached, especially his leg but he didn’t feel as dizzy as the last time he was conscious. Izuku sat up slowly grimacing at the crusted blood all over him. How will he get all of this shit off? He had no idea.

“Because you healed a wound that made you pass out from blood loss and as far as I know you’ve been running on 4 hours of sleep in the past three days,” Dabi threw a bottle of water at him, Izuku fumbled catching it, the side of it hitting him in the face. He rubbed his cheek glaring daggers at Dabi who chuckled. 

Izuku took a deep swing of the water relishing in its cooler temperature, his poached throat very much thankful for the liquid. He squinted looking through the window, he remembered it being dark. 

“Shit what time is it,” His mind whirred as he became more aware of whatever life was.

“Sometime after midday,” Dabi shrugged his shoulders as Izuku realized that today was very much not the weekend and he was very much not in school right now. 

“Fuck school,” He mumbled standing up, his sight becoming dark for a brief second but he looked around for his stuff ignoring Dabis' gaze. He didn’t want to think about whatever had happened earlier and how he would explain himself to his friend right here. 

“Indeed fuck school,” Dabi hummed, not getting Izuku at all. 

“No, I missed school,” Izuku looked at Dabi finally. 

“I thought you didn’t care about school,” Dabi smiled a lazy smirk on his face. 

“I don’t but teachers have been on my ass lately can’t have them thinking I’m deliberately not showing up,” Izuku gave up and sat back down on the couch his fingers fumbling with the bottle, opening and closing it. His skin was dry and very much crusty and it should feel extremely gross but he couldn’t find it in himself to care right now. Hygiene be damned he had to process the last 24h or maybe more, he wasn’t sure how much information his mind struggled with. Days tended to blur together at some point. It was honestly a miracle he hadn’t passed out at school these recent weeks. Stuff was getting complicated and Izuku was very tired. 

“I see,” Dabi nodded and Izuku sighed. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as unwelcome images entered his mind. He groaned, feeling the burn of tears but suppressed it. 

“Fuck what happened yesterday,” He let out a wet chuckle, his gaze snapped all over the floor. Was he even sane at this point?

“You fought a hero-”

“Oh my god is he alive?” Izuku gasped. Right! He had. He wasn’t sure if the hero even lived, and it would totally suck if he didn’t. Now that he knew where they were after him because he had been found out or something, whatever that meant, killing a hero wasn’t ideal at all in his situation. 

“As far as I know, yes,” Dabi shifted in the chair he was sitting kicking his legs out on the small table between them. Izuku watched the man get comfy but he clearly saw how tense his shoulders were and Izuku felt awful. 

“Good,” Izuku nodded, looking up at his friend. 

“Sorry, continue,” He whispered, knowing that Dabi understood that he was saying sorry more than just for interrupting him. Izuku was never good with his words but Dabi knew him for his fair share of apologizing for whatever he had done even if he hadn’t really meant for those things to escalate. Really Izuku more often than not minded his own business but it just so happened other people couldn't and whenever Izuku got the brunt of it, Dabi was there to haul his ass back. Each and every time. 

“Right,” Dabi chuckled but it was dry and hollow. Izuku winced.

“Then you ran through a bar, and caused havoc, and half of the town's talking about Yami showing up bloody like he just murdered someone,” Dabi laughed with great amusement in his voice. It was funny to some degree. Izuku could vaguely remember threatening some guy to show a rod up his ass or something, that was eventful. 

“It gave you some wicked reputation,” Dabi grinned. 

“That’s nice I guess,” Izuku didn’t need more attention than he already had. It would just make things more complicated especially now that both sides were watching his every step. He’d probably have trouble even walking around at night knowing how many would want to have a ‘word’ with him which would either be up with some hero worship he didn’t need or he would be left beaten up in some random alley to call Dabi once again because he needed help. He really needed to stop making Dabi work twice as much. The man already had his own problems to deal with. 

“After that, you met Eraserhead, I don't know what you two talked about but when I came to get you. You literally passed out the next second,” Dabi continued to which Izuku hummed. 

Eraserhead? Yeah, he remembered meeting Aizawa again. Like a magnet drawn to each other, they met every other night, or whatever poetic ass stuff that was. Izuku rubbed his eyes again, took another swing of his bottle and sighed. He really should stop his dates with the hero and tell him I’m to fuck off. Oh wait, he already did but the hero didn’t listen, although the two different identities might be at fault here. He should work on his approach.

“How'd you get away from Eraserhead with me as dead weight,” Izuku raised his eyebrow at Dabi who simply shrugged, inspecting his nails like it was no biggie. 

“He let us go,” Izuku starred. What?

“What?”

“I'm just as surprised as you are, Eraserhead let out a long sigh and just turned away telling me to take care of you, whatever that meant,” Izuku snorted, very Eraserhead-like.

“The word care means being good to someone who requires help- “ Izuku explained in a nosy manner. 

“Ouch, ouch I get it,” He rubbed his shoulder, which had been a target of Dabi's own bottle of water. He took the bottle and hid it away behind himself. Now Dabi wouldn’t be getting his bottle back, served him right. 

“Do you remember anything you talked to him about?” Dabi asked instead of getting annoyed which startled Izuku a little. He liked the stupid banter, the non-serious talks with people. He was bad with being serious, especially with the people who knew more about him than he realistically wished.

“I think I started panicking I told him I hit that hero on the roof, and he tried to help me but I told him to fuck off, again,” He hadn’t exactly told him that but it was implied along with the conversation. At least Izuku thought that. He had a hard time remembering the conversation word for word, as he was there minutes before passing out his memory was hazy as fuck. 

“Again?”

“Yeah, uh, remember how I said he met my other identity?” Izuku rubbed his hands together, unsure if he should say this. 

“Yeah?”

“I've seen him a total of six times, three as Yami and three as real me and oh my god,” Izuku gasped rubbing his eyes again.

“What’s up,”

“My eyes hurt like shit,” He groaned. They really did and Izuku briefly thought about the fact that he still had his contacts in. 

“Yeah, I took out your contacts,” Or not. He opened his bleary eyes, tears gathered in their corners, at least his tears now could be counted for his irritated eyes, not the same nervous mental breakdown that he really should have had like two weeks ago by now. 

“You- what?” Izuku rasped out his mind, finally analyzing what Dabi had said. So he was sitting with his green eyes, no mask on his face and hair most likely fading from its spraying that he’d done a shit job with the previous night because he was rushing and all the fighting and dragging himself through people hadn’t helped. That he was sure of. 

“Sorry, but your eyes looked a bit red there so I took them out,” Izuku watched as Dabi shifted in his seat again even denser than previously. 

“Ah, it's fine,” Izuku sighed, “I think”

He was pretty much sitting as Izuku right in front of Dabi now, in front of a villain who could remember how he looked like a civilian and ruin him in mere minutes. Not that he thought Dabi would do that, he wasn’t like that at least as far as Izuku knew. But he could never trust anyone hundred per cent here. It was a game with death, a gamble more so where he always lost when he trusted. It was a slippery slope of trusting too much and not enough, currently, they were comfortably sitting in between those two worlds, but it seemed to be tipping. 

“I think I need to go home,” Izuku gulped down the ball of emotions in his throat and stood up, shaking off the numb feeling of his limbs. 

“Not liking my couch?” Dabi joked trying to cheer him up but Izuku's world simply swayed. Things he’d said and done coming back to him bit by bit and well it was too much. 

“It's nice, just need to reflect on my life a little,” He shook his head, catching the sight of his bat and taking it in a loose grip. Would people look at him as he went home? It was the middle of the day after all. He’d surely get enough weird stares even if he took the most discreet path home as he could. 

“You okay?” Dabi had stood up and was resting one of his hands on Izuku's shoulders, grounding him briefly. Izuku took a deep breath and shakily let it out. No, he wasn’t okay. 

“Honestly Dabi, I hate that I have this quirk,” He mumbled. Because he did because he didn’t want to deal with whatever shit he’d gotten himself into now. Usually, it was fun. Usually, he didn’t pass out from blood loss because he fucked up so bad there was a horde of heroes after him. Usually, his actions didn’t cause him to near a full-on breakdown later on because he had never been this stupid and acted like a total kid. 

“Yami-” Dabi slid off his hand but Izuku just laughed

“It’s okay I won’t do anything stupid,” He’d already done that as it was. What more stupid he could do? If he could die that would be debatable but when he couldn't, trying to strangle yourself felt like an unnecessary waste of time. He would pass out and wake up ten minutes later and then what? Clean up the mess he accidentally made because he fell on a table? No, Izuku didn't want to do that again. With how empty he had felt afterwards it was ridiculous how much work dying took. 

“You always say that and the next thing is I'm hauling your ass across the town,” Dabi sighed, going back to his chair, his voice sounded exhausted and Izuku winced. Right, what he had been saying. Dabi was always doing things for him as Izuku ran around rampant because he had no one to hold him on a leash. And he dared to say Kacchan was someone who didn’t know how to control himself and had a god complex. Izuku should just look at himself one day and reevaluate everything he had done and said to others because he was such a hypocrite. 

“I'm sorry,” He said and really meant it. Dabi stayed silent as Izuku escaped his apartment. What was he even doing this all for?

Izuku collapsed on his bed, forgoing the shower once again. It’s not like had actually done his laundry or washed anything so why did it matter? Tears welled up in his eyes and he laughed to himself. 

What the fuck was this? What was going on? What the hell was he doing? Making friends? Thinking Eraserhead was somewhat cool? Playing the hero with the police and villain with Giran next? Having a friend's tea party with Dabi when the guy would turn on Izuku any moment or vice versa and it would be no hard feelings because it was simply how the world worked?

Why was he doing any of this? For the money? Yeah, whatever that counted. And yet none of that felt quite okay. He sighed. Took a deep breath and wiped his tears away. He could question himself another day. Now he had a job to do or get ready for rather.

He met the man, Overhaul, the head of it all. He didn’t have his objective or anything but he itched to gather as much information as he could on the man. Be prepared to be thrown into a room with no way to escape and find his way out because he wasn’t going into this blind. He’d been neglecting this side of his job running around for fun or whatever. But he ended it and got back his head in the game or this would not end well. 

He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper grimacing all the blood. He didn’t know if he’d be able to get all of it out but those were his favourite pair of pants so he would try extra hard. His shoes laid in the tub had thrown them right away. They were soaked through with blood, as the boots were already red the damage could not be seen that much but he knew if he didn’t take care of those he would be barefoot soon enough. Vaguely he thought about the fact that he’d been wearing these shoes all the times he’d met Aizawa. Would that tip the hero off? They weren't uncommon, right? Maybe. 

He rubbed his hair as he pulled on a tangle that had hair ripping out of his skull. He needed to wash this out and maybe get a haircut. The locks were getting long he’d probably be able to tie his hair into a small bun soon not that he preferred it. Long hair was tedious especially when it was as thick and unruly as his. 

Izuku got into the shower, anyway, despite the initial want to rot away on his bed. Scrubbing all parts of himself wishing he had one of those better shampoos than his dirt-cheap 3 in 1 shampoo that did a piss poor job at taking the baked crust of blood and dirt off his skin. Maybe when Overhaul paid him he’d invest in something nicer if he kept going like that. The water ran pink for a while then mixed with brief grey and then started finally running clean, at that time it had gotten cold and Izuku was shivering under the spray. Nothing new but still unpleasant. 

Next were his clothes. He soaked them in cold water, going to his room to change into something reasonable. Finding the last pair of clean sweatpants, Izuku paused and looked at the shirts he had. One clean All Might shirt and one clean Kamui Wood’s shirt. 

Once upon a time, the All Might shirt used to be his favourite but times changed and he reached for Kamui Woods one, throwing the other shirt deeper into his closet. 

Once upon a time, his room had been filled with All Might merch but he’d gotten rid of it long before he even met the man and realized how wrong he was on him. Money had been tight and his collectionaire stuff went for a good price and then poof next thing he knew he was looking at his walls and slightly lighter in places where posters used to be. Shelves empty and barren only clothes reminiscent of his collection. Even then the All Might stuff met the trash after that day. 

Cleaning everything up felt somewhat euphoric. Getting rid of dirt and blood had him nearly bursting into tears. Sitting down at his computer stomach rumbling for food had him staring down the computer screen in wonder where he’d gone wrong these past weeks and how much more he could take. 

The conclusion was that; not much.

Chapter Text

The next time he met Shinsou was a few days later after the whole getting stabbed in the leg fiasco. It felt like it had been weeks since he last saw his friend- yeah friend that still sounded so weird to say. But nonetheless, he felt giddy. To meet him, or better yet beat the shit out of him they call training. 

It was fun. Throwing each other around in the middle of a trash mountain where no one could go and tell them not to do that. 

Sparring or teaching how to spar with Shinsou was fun. He was not an expert and probably fucked up at least seventy per cent of the moves he showed the other teen which would be dangerous and very irresponsible of him but he didn’t care. And as far as he knew Shinsou didn’t either. 

Fighting the correct way didn't always mean victory. Especially if Shinsou was going to work with his quirk, that would mean he had to rely on a shit ton of hand-to-hand fighting and fighting dirty to get somewhere. Not everyone would fall for his quirk despite how stupidly powerful and convenient it was. 

The world wasn’t fair and the distribution of insane meta powers wasn’t either. Izuku would know.

With that in mind, Izuku had set out of the house with one of his less full notebooks in hand, one that didn't hold his plans for the takeover of some random gang and made a note to finally ask Shinsou more about his quirk than just the basics. 

Of course, he didn't need that much to delve into his full analysis mode and write ten pages about Brainwash. And he’d done that already, theory after theory flying around until his hand cramped and his pen ran out of ink, betraying his trail of thoughts and having to reread everything he wrote in chicken scratch to find his way back. 

But he had the chance to ask Shinsou more about it, either denying or confirming his theories. And perhaps doing some experiments of his own. Izuku really wanted to ask Shinsou to brainwash him. It would be something. Maybe it would make his mind shut up for once. 

Their sparring proceeded as normal. Or as normal as it could be.  

Shinsou arrived tired and very much asleep on his feet. It amused Izuku to no end but he briefly wondered how it was to live a normal teenage life where getting up before 7 am on Sunday was considered the task of the devil himself. He didn’t know how it was to be a teenager or kid really, so these moments were a piece of what he didn’t have. 

Shinsou let him have those little moments of normality which was all fine and dandy but to some extent, Izuku was fearing that it was just momentary. A thing that would pass.  

As far as Izuku was concerned the moment Shinsou stepped into U.A. their relationship would break like nothing. 

U.A. was demanding and Shinsou would be occupied. Trying to be the best hero he could while Izuku would keep on running around playing his part as a villain until time ticked out and he was behind bars. Especially now that it seemed more likely than ever, with heroes actually paying attention to him. Who knew maybe as Shinsou became a sidekick to some hero he would be the one to arrest Izuku. 

Alas, Izuku enjoyed what they had while he had the chance.

He hadn't gone out at night since that day, mostly recovering from whatever was that night, catching up with school and sitting away his breakdown in the silence of his cold home. Perhaps he was afraid of stepping his foot outside. Fear struck him, not that he admitted to it. 

Twisting away from Shinsous approach to tackle him to the ground, Izuku took the back of Shinsou's hoodie and pulled him over his shoulder. Shinsou landed in a heap of limbs and loud grunts and yells of giving up. Being a teenager once in a while felt awesome. 

“You’re getting better,” Izuku smiled grunting as Shinsou clasped his hand to pull himself up, using his weight to pull Izuku off his balance.  

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Midoriya,” Shinsou only sniffled, brushing sand off his clothes and stumbling to a stray piece of a couch and settling down, throwing his head back. His loud groan conveyed how tired he was.  

“Done for today?” Izuku found the other half of the couch and plopped down in much the same manner, he pulled his legs up and crossed them tucking one foot under the other. 

“Please, the day I will not end up on my ass at least eighty per cent of the rounds we do is the day I enjoy fighting you Mido,” Shinsou grunted, throwing his arm over his eyes. Dramatic to the very last bone.

“Mido?” Izuku tilted his head. A nickname?

“Yeah I would say Midori, you know cuz you’re green but that just feels too long,” Shinsou shrugged, running his hand through his hand like he hadn’t just caused Izuku's stomach to flip upside down in unfamiliar feeling. 

“I see,” Izuku mumbled, leaning on his hand that rested on his thigh, unsure where to take it from here. Nicknames were nothing new to him. His whole villain agenda was based around a nickname shortened from Akatani Mikumo. But it’s not like he was given that by someone else. He, himself, decided it. Now it felt more like his name than a nickname anyway so maybe these cases weren’t as similar as he thought. 

Nickname given by a friend. Izuku pressed his lips together. That was new and welcomed. He hadn't figured out the twisting on his insides but he didn’t have time to dwell on it anyway. 

“Are we done for the day?” Shinsou had pulled him out of his mind, not at all bothered by Izuku's silence after the revelation of his new nickname. Perhaps for him, it was a fairly normal thing. For Izuku it should be too. 

Yami. Deku. Momentarily stunned, Izuku snorted to himself. How could he forget Deku? That was the first nickname he’d ever gotten and actually been given by someone he would consider his friend. Ex friend that is. Eventually, the nickname turned into an insult and yeah maybe it still was a different thing but Izuku sighed instead, pulling his gaze to look at Shinsou who was watching him with his eyebrow raised. 

“Mido?” Izuku's insides still twisted but he hummed instead. 

“I asked if we’re done for the day?” Shinsou rolled his shoulders. 

“Ah right, sorry, lost in my thoughts, if you want to then sure,” Izuku licked his lips, feeling the awkwardness creep up his insides. He wasn’t good with people if he wasn't threatening them. 

“I have the choice between going home and plopping onto my bed for well-deserved rest or continue getting beat up by some scrawny fourteen-year-old? Let me think, this one might be hard,” 

Izuku burst out laughing, throwing his head back, Shinsou’s own laughter following soon after. Maybe he wasn’t good with people but Shinsou wasn’t that much better either. But that was alright. If they could joke and Izuku could laugh to the point of losing his breath he pushed his awkwardness down. He pushed away every insecurity he had to enjoy these moments as much as he could. For a little while. 

They giggled until one of them fell down the couch, setting a cloud of sand into the air. Izuku had to clutch his stomach as he tried to breathe properly, bursting into more laughter as Shinsou grunted trying to stand up but his arms buckled, most likely from using them too much the last two hours and went down again. 

“If you don’t stop I’m gonna piss myself,” Izuku rasped out grabbing the couch as he laughed his left lung out. His throat ached and his eyes watered, he was very short on air but couldn’t stop giggling and chuckling to himself. Shinsou wasn’t far behind laying on the sand. 

“C’mon now Mido let’s not laugh about my lack of coordination,” Ugly snorts were tumbling out of Izuku. 

“You’re laughing too,” He tried to settle down but to no avail. Tears gathered in Izuku's eyes unsure if it was just laughter or weird emotions swaying in his body not knowing where to go or what to do. He’d never felt this free. And it startled him enough to calm down. Unfamiliarity was always a way for Izuku to startle back to his defences, that he’d so easily let go around the other boy. 

“Okay okay, I’m calm,” Izuku leaned on the armrest of the raggy couch and wiped his tears away, watching as Shinsou got back on his half of the couch taking deep breaths. 

Izuku felt his heart hump loudly, blood rushing in his ears as he exhaled, hiccuping briefly. He licked his lips as Shinsou gathered himself on the couch, fumbling with his phone. It was getting late, noon crawling slowly to their doorstep and yet Izuku didn’t want to let go. Wanted to bask in these moments of calm and zero worries where he didn’t have to play a role that either would have him behind bars or breaking down in tears and screams for help. 

“Say, Shinsou,” He gulped. He still had so much to do. 

“What’s up?” The other teen hummed completely oblivious to Izuku’s panic. Izuku envied that, the obliviousness of humanity. The more one knew the more miserable they felt. Izuku had read somewhere that the more realistic people's perseverance in life was, the more depressed and sadder they felt overall. He wasn’t surprised that he fell into that category.

“Before you go home, can I ask a few questions about your quirk?” Izuku bit his lip. He hoped Shinsou wouldn’t reject his proposal. The first time they had met Izuku already revealed more of his nerdy side, completely geeking out on Shinsou’s quirk in the middle of the street. He hoped that hadn’t made him wary of Izuku's excitement. Not that it would be the first time that it did. 

“Why?” He simply raised his eyebrow, putting his phone in his jacket and sitting up straight. Izuku jumped off the couch and smiled softly. 

“Here, let me,'' He rushed to his bag pulling out his notes and a pen, stumbling back to Shinsou slowly realizing how weird this really was. He extended his notes out to the other boy, explanations rushing out of him right away. 

“I do some hero analysing and of course, you’re not a hero yet but still I do uh, other people too and your quirk is pretty cool” Izuku mumbled along as Shinsou flipped through his notes, his eyebrows raising as he skipped every page, stopping a little longer with each one. 

Izuku gripped his own hand hard, worrying his lip between his teeth. What would
Shinsou say? No? Yes? That he didn’t want to be friends with Izuku anymore? That Izuku should stop his weird habit? 

“Wow,” He softly breathed out and Izuku gulped, twiddling his pen unsure what that reaction really meant. 

“Can I?” He cleared his throat looking at Shinsou who glanced up from Izuku’s notes. 

“Yeah sure, absolutely,” Izuku breathed out, his heart thumping in weird ways. He was excited. He could properly analyse Shinsou’s quirk. 

“Cool,” He wobbled back to his seat, hand shaking in excitement. It had been so long since he had the opportunity to ask someone directly. Especially with mind quirks, those were so rare that Izuku had only three others in all of his volumes of notes. This would be the fourth and probably the most exciting and throughout. 

“Honestly Mido,” Izuku flicked his gaze to Shinsou who flashed him a smile. 

“If you didn’t tell me you didn’t want to be a hero your dedication to learning how to fight and analysing heroes would’ve made me believe it a hundred per cent,” Izuku laughed awkwardly. Yeah. Izuku gripped his pen and pushed down the old ideas he had of being a hero, that awkwardly hung in his mind to this day. Hero analysis was the only drive to become a hero, not that it shifted, it was the only reminder of what Izuku couldn’t have. 

“Ah yeah, it’s a bit weird isn't it?” He mumbled. 

“No, not really, just- different,” Shinsou shrugged, getting up and stretching his back, coming to sit beside Izuku, his moves only slightly timid and unsure. Izuku felt at ease at the thought of Shinsou being just as awkward as him. 

“I bet you’d make a terrifying villain though,” At that Izukus' heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat, clutching his notes. 

“Why do you say so?” Was he that obvious? 

“Have you seen your analysis? That’s like top-tier stuff, in the wrong hands it could do so much damage,” Ah, right. In the wrong hands, his analysis could take down empires of the underground. He may not be able to do it on his own and he didn’t necessarily seek out that power to control the whole underground. And yet he knew he had enough information on people, on heroes to take them down instantly. 

“That’s true I guess”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to imply-” Shinsou started to apologise but Izuku beat him to it. 

“No no it’s fine,” He chuckled. It was fine. He wasn’t wrong. 

“Really,” Izuku bit his lips. He just hoped Shinsou would never find out about his other side. 

“Just an interesting perspective that’s all,” He hoped that the other teen wouldn’t have to see Izuku lose his mind on some random rooftop beating the shit out of a hero. Something that seemed to be crawling up Izuku’s skin if things continued the way they were. He was patient and didn’t seek out violence but lately, the world has been tilting just enough for his morals to go awry more than before. 

“Where do we start?” Shinsou broke the silence that had settled between them. 

“How about first-hand experience?” Izuku grinned and opened a fresh page in his notes. 

“Huh?” 

“Brainwash me for a second,” Izuku grinned. 

Izuku grimaced as he entered the bar he’d left in disarray not too long ago but a meeting was set and wandering around the warehouses had been far too dangerous lately so a more secluded space was needed. 

Unfortunatelly. 

Izuku knew that being wanted throughout the country would affect his movement but damn he didn’t expect it to change the way he operated. It was very annoying. 

Giran had called. 

How he got Izuku’s number he didn’t know and didn’t want to know. Izuku was sure Giran had some stuff on him just as much as Izuku had on the older man but it didn’t make it any more comforting. Letting anything slip about him was just plain unwanted on Izuku’s list. The familiarity of people surrounding him was getting on his nerves. 

Who knew what else was being said about him in regard to his identity, quirk and anything really? Giran had been clear that meeting at this bar would give him the desired confidence and the patrons wouldn’t bother him but Izuku still snuck a  glance at the people sitting around, all watching him. It both felt exhilarating and terrifying. Izuku wasn’t sure which one he liked more. 

But a meeting was a meeting, especially one that he’d been waiting for ages. 

Overhaul and his whole Shie Hassaikai gang were ready to pay him upfront and give him the task finally. Took them long enough but Izuku couldn’t complain; he rather enjoyed not having to think about the Yakuza while he had his own shit to deal with. He just wanted to get this over with.

Izuku quite frankly had been regretting his choice to even say yes every day. The more he'd dug up about the Yakuza the shittier he felt. He knew he did wrong but his ‘wrong’ had lines he didn't cross. Even if they seemed to start to blur lately. 

And yet Shie Hassaikai were toeing the line on the daily and Izuku was starting to very much try and find his way out of this whole mess without allowing the Yakuza to benefit from him. 

It was a plan in motion he had no safe answer to yet. He tried to go for the no-dying option but none of the ideas he’d gotten up with didn’t include him slicing his neck at least a few times within the next week. He wasn’t mentally prepared for that quite yet. 

Should he be in this situation a few months earlier, he'd do it, maybe. Now? Fat chance.  He was more inclined to be the one slicing someone else's neck than his own. 

Izuu shook his head, getting rid of the whole idea. He wasn’t sure what was going on but ever since that day of passing out and creating havoc something changed. He only had to figure out what. 

“Hey Giran,” Izuku had slipped onto a stool in a very familiar meeting room he’d not so accidentally broken into. The floor has been cleaned of his blood, the broken stool taken away and the door repaired. Despite that he’d seen the way the patrons watched him enter, their gaze snapping the very moment he set his foot into the bar. 

That guy he threatened was there too, shrinking just a bit as he moved past the table the guy sat at. Izuku paid him no mind, making his way to the meeting room perfectly aware of how the talking only resumed until he clicked the door shut and vanished away from their sight. He knew enough to know that the topic of all tables would be him till the moment he left the room. 

Yami didn't make his deal public so this was fairly new to others. As much as it was to himself. 

Izuku simply had no choice but to move cautiously and that exposed him to the underground world a bit more than he’d hoped in the long run. But if he had to take being captured by some lousy hero on a Tuesday night to being the topic of every thug in Musutafu he’d take the latter. 

Maybe some good would come out of it. He hoped. He really hoped that this whole thing wouldn’t backfire, he was thinking about taking a small vacation after the whole Yakuza thing. Just for a little while. 

“Yami, how’s your leg”

“Oh you know, as good as new, it didn't even hurt that much,” Giran quirked his eyebrow at him very well knowing that was a lie because it hurt like a bitch from start to finish and even ached a few days after that. Not fun, not recommended.

He’d rather not repeat it if he could. Really. If he wanted to hurt himself, in the near future, he would find other ways to do so. Less messy and less traumatising. On others or himself, that was yet to be decided. But that was beside the whole point as Giran barked out a laugh. 

“Heh, that was spectacular,” He grinned, patting Izuku’s back. Izuku frowned at his touch but let himself slip against the bar counter of the room. It used to be the old main portion of the bar. Izuku rather enjoyed the room despite being here only the second time. At least now he could actually look around and take in every detail without having to focus on the fact that he was very close to fainting. 

“What was?” Izuku asked, feigning innocence like he didn't know the shit he caused. Dabi was on his ass the past few days either laughing his lungs out at home at funny the whole shit was, at least from what he heard. Or acting like a mother hen because he was so fucking reckless.

Yes, Izuku knew it himself. They were close but Dabi’s actions seemed to confuse him lately. They were close. Almost brothers but something felt like building between them. Something dark and uncomfortable.

“When you broke into this room, I was not expecting you to give such a show,” Giran took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Izuku's direction. He joked as Izuku frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together and he waved his hand before him. He was glad he had a mask for this. 

“Well, I wasn't really expecting it either, you know,” Izuku sighed. It wasn’t on his list to do but apparently, he's done it. 

“Why’d you do that?” Giran asked as Izuku tapped the bar top. 

“Hmm?” He hummed watching as Giran flicked off the ash of his cigarette. 

“Imply that the rumours were true?” He glanced at Izuku, getting a little serious. Izuku clicked his tongue. Of course, he would bring this up. What should he say? Did he want to cause a ruckus? He’d already done that. Was totally not thinking about what he was saying? Yep. 

Izuku groaned, running his hand through his hair.

“That was not exactly planned. Blood loss really messed up with my logical thinking and I just said the first thing that came to my mind,” He shrugged. Grian hummed at his answer, licking his lips. Izuku cringed and turned away from the man. 

“But is it true?”

“Half of it yeah,” Izuku grinned, he knew this would be a widely discussed topic. The rumours were pretty widespread and for him to go do something like that. He was crazy. 

It definitely wasn’t the best idea. It simply made the target on his back so much bigger. Thugs and gangs getting curious to prove the rumour true. Others’s wary of him because of the implications. No one wanted to get on the bad side of someone who couldn’t die. 

“Which half you’re not going to tell me?” Giran raised his eyebrow as Izuku chuckled to himself. Of course, he wouldn’t. 

“Nope,” 

“You little shit,” 

“I do try,” 

“Anyway, here,” Giran pulled out a packet, putting it down before Izuku. “That’s half”

“That's half?” Izuku opened it, his heart lurching to his throat. That was so much money. More than he’d imagined. He thought the whole job would be around this, not just the half. What the fuck.  Shie Hassaikia didn’t play around and based on the money they didn’t want Izuku to play around either. 

“Not as much as you expected, kid?” No. It was definitely the other way around. 

“No- I just, no,” Izuku carefully put the packet back on the counter and licked his lips. What the fuck. 

“You’re not making much sense there kiddo,” 

“When do I ever,” Izuku shook his head, clearing his throat and turning to Giran turning his business mode on. “So what does Overhaul want?” 

“How to get a supply of Trigger to Miyazaki in Kyushu, as you’d know Yami there have been troubling instances of police seizing Trigger suppliers recently. No one knows when or how the information gets leaked, but it does. The majority of these shipments indirectly or directly affect Shie Hassaikai and as the lasting blooming Yakuza, they rely on those, they need a plan,” Giran licked his lips and Izuku closed his eyes briefly. 

“A plan,” He was fucked. So, so fucked. Because guess what, who was the one causing the whole Trigger dynasty to fall apart? Yami. Him. He was the one breaking the system. And fuck if that wasn’t terrifying because the moment people found out he’d be dead to a point even his quirk wouldn’t help him. 

“A plan for how to get Trigger across half of the country and not get detected,” Izuku mumbled. What did he get himself into? 

He has really done and fucked up Dabi would be laughing his ass the moment he heard of this if Izuku told him that is. Getting Trigger to the other side of the country? While police were twice as aware of the illegal shipments? When Yami was wanted? Nah, this was a receipt for a disaster and a big one at that. 

“Think you could get it done?”

“What amount of drugs are we talking about? Method of transportation? Involved parties other than Shie Hassaikai. Time limit? Preferred date of transportation?” Izuku dug out his notes, skipping the pages to a clear one, not giving Giran the satisfaction of looking into them. He wrote down the given information looking at Giran who nodded to himself pulling out his phone. 

“Now we’re talking,” Izuku was blown away by the sheer amount of danger and stupidity the whole thing insinuated. That was so much drug to carry in one drive. In a truck no less. Who was he kidding? Having a few packets in a bag could easily blow up in their face, not to mention a whole truck. Izuku wasn’t that familiar with moving inventory for the purposes of safety or whatever but even he knew this was very much unnecessary. 

“Why are they even moving all of this, with the police being alert? Making too much noise could really blow up in their faces,” He grumbled. 

“That’s the business world kiddo,” Well it was stupid. 

“Well, it’s stupid, taking unnecessary risks would land you in prison immediately,” One bad move, one badly advised move by Yami would have Shie Hassaikai kissing goodbye to freedom. Shit he was in deep here. They knew what they were doing by asking him to plan this, to figure out how to escape the clutches of the god. And essentially put him on the line if things went south. Damn it. 

“You’d know that wouldn’t you?” Giran grinned and Izuku scoffed in return. Of course he did but that wasn’t all. 

“I know enough that unnecessary risk and unplanned actions differ enough not to have my ass hauled to the nearest police station,” He didn’t actively seek out to dangle in front of the heroes. He just had a bad habit of being not in the right place and meeting Eraehead too many times to be comfortable. Or was that a curse?

“Now that all of musutafu is looking for you I’d relook that,” 

“Giran shut up,” Izuku snorted to himself. He knew that alright?

“Aye aye boss,” 

Izuku had to escape the bar an hour later filled to the brim with information he was itching to dive into right away. The plan he had to advise was complicated in many ways but in retrospect, this was far tamer than Izuku initially thought. 

Or maybe he was just trying to calm himself down because looking at it from another more objective side he was put in a spot he had no escape.  His skills would be put to the test with his freedom on the line. 

Especially when he was the one to disrupt the flow Trigger as of late. He wasn't sure if anyone knew about it. Giran was smart and if he did know he didn’t show. But then why would Shie Hassaiakai ask for him if they knew, especially when dealing with a whole truck full of the drug which was worth more money than Izuku could even imagine. It was a bit too complicated of a situation for Izuku to feel comfortable holding the wad of cash in his pocket that was just the half he asked for upfront. Half- but enough to make his life easy for the next two months even if he paid for the apartment himself and his dad didn’t support him at all. 

Pushing the panic away he let himself make plans to buy everything he needed lately. He could curse himself out for being stupid and impulsively accepting a job because he needed money not thinking about the consequences later. 

Making his way home across the rooftops was far more enjoyable when the night had set in and rain started pouring down. It meant fewer heros and more freedom to him even if jumping from roof to roof could result in a slip of his foot and tumble down meeting hard ground. The edges were very slippery but he didn’t let himself hesitate with every jump he made. If he fell then there was nothing he could do but just accept it. 

Izuku had slipped off his mask, tucking it away in his pocket with the cash. Idly he ran his hand through his hair and came back with a stained black hand. Right the colour was running now that rain was making its rounds across the city. He threw on his hoodie although it didn't help much from getting his bangs wet and his green curls shining through. It would be all well if not for one thing. A very prominent and familiar figure landed beside him softly on the roof as Izuku took a breather on to survey the surroundings. 

His heart jumped to his throat when the hero approached him with determination in his eyes. 

“Kid?” He said and Izuku didn’t know what to do. Be Yami or Izuku? He didn't have his mask and his hair colour was running but his contacts were still in, he had his bat for fucks sake. Izuku reached for his mask, not finding it in his pocket and cursed. Of course, it would fall out. Of course that would happen only to him. Of course, he would be caught by Eraserhead in a position where he’d expose himself if he said or did the wrong thing. 

Shit.

“Hey,” Izuku mumbled when the silence stretched a bit too long for the hero in question who stayed a few brief steps behind him. 

“What are you doing up here Yami?” Izuku bit his lip and tried to compose himself. Okay if he could just get his contacts out enough he could play this off as Izuku. Maybe he could leave his bat on the ground without drawing attention to it. It was dark enough for it not to be seen, he held it in front of him taking a shaky breath. Okay. He was fine. 

“Yami?” Izuku let it sound like a question. Like he didn't know the person Erasehead was talking about. Eraserhead hummed behind him and Izuku dug his fingers into his eyes, movements quick yet clumsy. It stung, like a bitch, but he got the contacts out in the few seconds the silence stretched between them once again. 

With watery eyes and hand squishing his contacts between his hands, most definitely running them he turned around to catch Eraserhead's gaze. His bat clattered softly behind him. Fuck, it slid out. 

“Who’s Yami?” He tilted his head, letting a few tears roll down his cheeks because the wind blew attacking both his cheeks and irritated eyes. Yeah maybe not the best idea as Aizawa widened his eyes, his stance becoming more alert, well at least it drove the hero's attention away from his bat. So maybe the greatest idea he ever had. Izuku could almost cry for real. 

Izuku reached out to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie, pushing the contact into the back pocket of his pants, accepting the defeat. He would just go buy new ones. These were old and the colour faded too much for his liking. Dabi had commented on that when Izuku had retrieved them from his apartment this morning. Who knew Dabi had contact liquid in a proper case? Turns out the bastard was nearsighted as hell. At least he had money now to buy better ones. Pros and cons. 

“Shit,” Aizawa cursed and approached Izuku, only stopping one step away from him. Izuku sniffled, mucus filling up his nose. He hated how a few tears had him looking like he’d cried hours before that. As if he’d been breaking down unable to stop the flow of tears because something hurt so much tears shed all the boiling emotions. 

“Yeah I'm fine,” Izuku coughed into his hand and pulled this hoodie tighter around his head, hoping to hide his hair. Why must he always meet the hero when he’d just gotten out of his job as Yami? At least he didn’t choose some wild colour for a disguise otherwise hiding this shit would have been so god awful. 

The bat thought. He hoped he could make the hero go away. He wasn’t exactly keen on leaving it here tonight and having to go out of his way to retrieve it. He still had his small knife of course but the bat was more to his liking. He grew really attached to it. 

“Then why are you crying?” 

“Allergies?” Izuku tried. It was May after all. Cold May and because of that, as far as he knew, this year was tame on them and he didn’t really get those anyway; Izuku wasn’t prone to allergies. But Eraserhead had no way of knowing that. 

Aizawa only sighed, reached into his back pocket and gave a tissue which Izuku accepted. He didn’t want to go home with a snotty nose and poached cheeks from a few shed tears. 

“Why aren’t you a home problem child?” He reached into his pocket, getting other tissues out after Izuku rapidly went through the first one. Izuku had to simply accept the second one or he risked having a runny nose and embarrassing himself in front of the other hero besides everything else. 

Izuku shrugged when he remembered that he had to give an answer. But what could he say? 

“Are you mad at me?” Aizawa asked and Izuku hiccuped, feeling a swell of tears in his eyes, this time for real. He closed them briefly, taking a deep breath. He hated when people asked about emotions about stuff like that, he just burst into tears immediately. It was a reaction he couldn't control, not as Izuku at least. 

“I don't know Aizawa. If I stalked you, got your name, then searched up info from the official database and tried to use it against you, would you be?” Izuku wasn't mad though. Hurt? Yes. Mad? No. He didn't stay mad. Maybe a bit vengeful but that was something he only considered when dealing with villains. Aizawa- he, he wouldn't be someone Izuku could hold a grudge against. All might on the other hand? That was a different story. 

“I’m sorry kid, I overstepped my boundaries,” He did but he couldn't hold it against him no matter how much he tried. He wanted to distance himself and yet something always made him look at Eraserhead, the hero in front of him and hope for something that would pull him out. His emotions had been all over the place in the past weeks. 

“It's fine,” Izuku said, despite that not being true. They both knew it, but Izuku was used to his feelings being brushed off so he just let it be swept under the rug, it was easier that way. Although Aizawa disagreed. 

“No, it’s not, you don’t have to adjust to adults messing up because you're younger. You have the right to own us to our fucks up, I overstepped and I want to atone for that, so what can  I do Izuku to make it up to you?” 

“What?” Even if he knew that Aizawa was right, that Izuku shouldn’t take shit from adults like this. He didn’t let villains rule him around but that was villains who didn’t know but for him as a teenager going to middle school unsure of what he really wanted the concept was foreign. 

“I understand that this may be confusing and not something you’re familiar with but you can ask me whatever and if it's within my reach I will try to do that,” Aizawa crouched in front of Izuku giving him a warm smile. 

“So I got one wish or something?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“If you want to look at it that way, sure,” The hero chuckled and Izuku broke into a small smile of his own. 

“A wish from Eraserhead, I must have won the lottery,” He snorted, swaying on his feet. He felt lightheaded from this. No amount of information on Shie Hassaikai could have him feeling like the world was splitting apart and being healed simultaneously than having Aizawa say he had one wish from the hero. 

“Keep that up and I'll take that back,” Aizawa reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. The shuddering breath he took was enough for Aizawa to squeeze it tighter.

“No takebacks” He grinned.

“Aizawa?” Izuku heard the hero hum, listening to him. 

“What is it?” Izukulet out a slow breath. He had a question. A stupid question and vaguely familiar to one he already asked a hero once. 

Of course, it didn’t end well. With all the shit Izuku found out as well, sometimes he thought that day had been a fever dream altogether. Izuku was shattered in the end. He trusted All Might and he understood really but he just couldn’t accept. And maybe he was being very hypocritical only looking at this from his side, not viewing it objectively. But he had the right to feel that way, didn’t he? Just because All Might was the symbol of peace didn’t automatically make him a god did it? 

But what about Eraserhead before him? A famous underground hero Izuku had a whole page dedicated to? More like a whole notebook. Was Eraseheard similar? From his experience, he shouldn't ask. Should try to find out more about him. But his chest burned with the need to know. 

“What's it like being a hero?” He mumbled. There was a lot more he could ask but that was the first thing that slipped out. He wanted to know. Once wanted to be one, but knowing now would be enough for him. Yearning for something one once wished was hard to stop, accepting that the future's not what you thought it would be was harsh. 

“I mean- what’s it like, putting yourself in the line of others or you know having to choose between people who to save first- ah sorry it’s stupid,” Izuku mumbled along when he caught Aizawas stare, full of questions. 

“It’s not stupid Midoriya,” Izuku bit his lip realising that Aizawa stuck to his outburst to call him by his family name instead. Weirdly it made him feel worse. Izuku sighed looking at the hero before him who seemed to drown deep in his thoughts. 

“Being a hero is exhausting,” He finally said to Izuku’s surprise. 

“Exhausting?” He knew that hero work wasn’t all that fun. Smiling through pain and exhaustion while trying to help others was anything but fun. When he was younger he thought the opposite of that, thought that a hero was someone who could be so unbreakable. 

But he didn’t realize how wrong he was until he was faced with the reality of knowing that a smile was only a cover-up. Even for the current number one, a smile was only a mask to keep the world safe. A dazzling smile that cost him his life. Yet he didn’t expect Aizawa to admit to it 

“Yeah,” He just nodded, finally getting from his crouching position that he’d been stuck in front of Izuku for the longest while, gazing out to the city. 

“Sleepless nights, constant disasters, nightmares, kids hanging out on rooftops, PTSD you name it,” He glanced briefly at the kid's part and Izuku chuckled drily, yeah he was a problem.

“Then why-” Aizawa held up his hand. 

“I didn't finish,” 

“Sorry,” Izuku waved for him to continue. 

“I’m not going to sugar coat and say that being a hero was something I viewed as positive in my life, with my quirk I had to work extra hard to be able to stand on the same stage as many others,” Erasure was a good quirk but as much as Shinsou with his mind control they had to rely a lot on their own body and raw strength. 

Eraserhead wasn’t a great hero because he erased some quirks. He was a great hero because he worked for it, building his body and Izuku really understood that. Hence he was helping Shinsou who needed the same tactic just like Aizawa. Maybe if Shinsou got into the U.A. he would get some assistance in regards to that. 

“It's not fun, it’s not easy, especially as an underground hero and if I had the chance to travel back in time I think I’d do many things differently,” Aizawa sighed, looking down and then glancing towards Izuku. 

“But being a hero lets me have moments like these,”

“Like these?” Izuku raised his eyebrow unsure of what the hero was referring to.

“Yeah, look around Midoriya, what do you see?” He gestured to the side, over the rooftop. 

“A city?” 

“I see a quiet block of people sleeping peacefully because I’m out here and they trust me enough to take care of any danger coming their way, I'm not saying that I'm able to save everyone nor take down every villain I come across, I'm just a human and humans have limits,” Izuku’s breath hitched. 

“Being a hero is realising how bitter the world is and still trying to change it. If not change then stop from getting worse, it’s not about saving people and having to choose, it’s about trusting yourself to stand despite the choice,” Aizawa concluded and Izuku’s head swam. He knew how bitter the world was. And what did he do? Make it worse. 

“I don't think I really get it,” He laughed, his voice cracking. He didn’t get it, not as a hero he didn’t get it. He just knew destruction. Knew only the bitterness. 

“That's alright, it’s not something one can understand unless experienced themselves, I didn’t really get it until a  few years into my career, despite seeing someone die even before I got my pro license, despite failing many and saving just as much. It took me a while to really figure that out,” Izuku took a deep breath trying to compose himself. He licked his lips peering into the sky realising that the sky was clear, no grey clouds in sight, rain disappearing into the horizon. He breathed out. 

“And what if you knew about someone needing saving and doing nothing?” He gulped. What about a cry for help so silent but loud in front of the hero? Izuku didn’t mean to really seek it, but maybe he should consider. 

“It's a what-if because I'd never let that happen,” Izuku nodded, pushing away the thoughts lingering. He should forget it. He chose this himself. To be a villain, vigilante whatever. He shouldn’t hope for a choice in the matter. He knew the moment his lies got out he’d be behind bars in an instant. 

“Just like that?” He whispered.

“Just like that,” The hero nodded. Izuku let out a lone tear roll down his cheek. But maybe just one night he let himself hope. He was nothing but hopeful after all, a dreamer. A kid stuck in his own little fantasy. 

“Aizawa,” the hero grunted. Izuku collected the courage he needed, reminded himself to pick up the bat tomorrow and looked at Aizawa who was waiting patiently, holding another tissue out for Izuku to take. 

“My wish is, can we get that ramen at that place,” 

“Sure,” He smiled, grabbing the tissues. He promised himself to indulge just this time. And then let go. 

Chapter Text

“So you’re saying most of the quirks are actually not one type?” Shinsou staggered beside Izuku in the middle of the night, street lamps barely illuminating their faces. But both of them took no notice and continued to make their way through the city, unable to sleep for different reasons. 

“Yeah, like for example Endeavour,” Izuku nodded to himself as Shinsou curled up his eyebrow at Izuku's choice of hero. Both of them had established that out of all the heroes they disliked- Endeavour was number one for his personality alone. Even as a hero the man was decent and did get to his place in the ranking fair and square. 

“Even if he’s a douche he has a very powerful quirk, and he obviously emits fire right?” Izuku waved his hand around, licking his lip. They had started a heated discussion of quirks and how they work. Or rather Shinsou had made the mistake of asking more about what Izuku thought on the topic of quirks and Izuku, being the big nerd he was, took the initiative to ramble the past twenty minutes and Shinsou had no other choice than to try and follow Izuku’s thought process. The other teen didn’t seem to be bothered at all, nodding along and sometimes adding to the conversation himself. Which only fueled Izuku to talk more. 

“Obviously, he's an emitter type,” Shinsou hummed despite his sleep-deprived mulled brain lacking any coherent thoughts for the last fourteen years of his life. 

“Yes but no,” Izuku accidentally clicked his drinks against his jacket zipper making a loud clunk sound and making himself startle. Shinsou snorted, flicking Izuku’s forehead. 

“Yes but no,” He parroted, not impressed with Izuku's answer. Izuku sighed, rolling his eyes and a small smile on his face. 

“You know sometimes I wonder if you’re actually smart or just sleep-deprived to the point of not making any sense,” Shinsou added. Izuku snorted so loud he got his drink coming out of his nose as he choked on the rest. Shinsou was left laughing his ass off as Izuku wiped the energy drink off his face, cringing at how sticky everything got. 

He shot Shinsou an annoyed look and started walking ahead, not waiting for Shinsou to catch on that they were moving again. The taller teen had to sprint to catch up, almost tripping on a rock with the lack of street light. 

“I'm way beyond that point, but let me continue,”

“Go on professor,” 

“What I'm trying to say is,” Izuku took a deep breath, “That if he was just an emitter type as the society likes to classify all elemental users, meaning those who produce or emit, and manipulate any type of burning gas, or manipulate the surrounding that is of earthly ingredient-,” 

“Earthly ingredients” Shinsou interrupted with a laugh as Izuku snorted.

“I’m tired, I forget words, shush,” Izuku grinned, he knew right now he was barely making any sense not using the correct terms and butchering the whole theory but could he be blamed if he got barely eight hours of sleep in the past three days. He was surprised he managed to not fall asleep during class. At this point, sheer will was holding him awake.

“Right right, continue,” 

“Basically you get the gist, water, air and so on,” Any elemental quirks were immediately categorized into emitter, despite a good part of them being simple manipulations they didn’t emit their own fuel or just simply the end product. 

“Technically if they were all emitters then none of them should have any protection against their own quirk right? Among other things such as emitter classification based on its function which is a whole nother discourse, I will not be getting it right now,”

“Uh, I don't know,” Shinsou scratched his head unsure how to proceed. 

“It's more common in those who produce fire or water, by extension ice, because in terms of air and earth, there are only specific situations where they would need to have protection, but with ice, water too I guess and fire there are obvious reasons for built-in protection right?” Air and earth were a slippery slope in the emitter class of understanding whenever their quirk was inherently dangerous to the user because, with fire and water, it was self-explanatory why they would need protection whereas with the other two, it was a gamble between some who were just throwing rocks or producing magma and burning themselves with it.

“Burns right?” Shinsou rounded a corner pulling Izuku along who was anything but looking where they were going, going on and on about his theory. Izuku was glad the other teen hadn’t ditched him by this point. 

“Precisely,” Izuku grinned. He was glad Shinsou understood him, at least partially, more often than not the other teen just looked lost as hell. 

“So that begs the question if their body automatically has built-in protection against their quirk: are they really just an emitter type or a by extension have a secondary mutant type,”

“Or a blend of those two?” Shinsou smiled as Izuku cheered.

“Yep, so quirk singularity!” It wasn't perfectly related to the evolution of quirks in the sense of connecting two different types of classification but it still mattered as the only reason it happened was because of the quirk singularity as a whole.

“Quirk singularity?” Shinsou raised his eyebrow, confusion evident in his voice. Izuku knew it wasn’t that popular of a theory, just scientific speculations and since society never changed those were always viewed with skepticism until things started becoming the norm in regards to those. Which would be pretty soon in Izuku's opinion but people never really tended to think about the existence of quirks and just took them as they were. This was a big ass flaw in their system because the quirks allowed humanity to progress far faster in science and whatnot but the quirk regulation laws had them unable to use the quirks beyond the hero work. Which was the stupidest rule one could come up with, in Izuku's opinion. 

“Yep the evolution state of quirks, as new generations go the quirks become more complex and eventually will overrun the society because of how powerful they will become. Soon enough no kid will be able to control their own quirk, and that’s why the simple types mix. The classification system is flawed with the newest generations and doesn’t fit them right anymore. I believe it was flawed from the very start because pushing a quirk into a specific box could limit one's understanding of it so they wouldn’t reach the full potential of it-”

“Mido, chill,” Shinsou laughed, putting his hand on Izuku's shoulder, stopping his rant as Izuku took a deep breath, aware that he said that in one breath. He felt slightly dizzy and nodded. 

“Right sorry,” Shinsou squeezed his shoulder, not dropping his hand, shaking his head, even if izuku could barely see the other teen. 

“No I mean your drink is sloshing around and I don't want a hoodie that smells of monster,” Shinsou pointed with his other hand at the drink that Izuku was clutching and noticed that he had his hand tipped at a dangerous angle towards Shinsou who shifted beside him. Izuku did vaguely remember waving his hand around, he did that a lot when talking like trying to string his thoughts together with hand gestures otherwise he was lost in his own head. Not that he never understood what he meant, but others just didn’t pick up on his mumbling and running in circles. He had a hard time putting words together in coherent sentences that made sense to anyone but him. 

“Whoops,” He sheepishly laughed. 

“Whoops yourself Mido,” Shinsou bumped his shoulder after letting his hand go.

“You’re really into the whole quirk thing, huh?” He smiled slightly as Izuku nodded. Yeah. Yeah, he was. 

“I guess I mean, I mumble a lot, or used to,” He sighed, biting his lip. Why did he bring that up again? No idea but he felt like he had to explain himself to Shinsou for whatever reason. 

“Used to?” Izuku cringed. Yeah. Mumbling used to be a habit of his he’d never break out of until Kacchan made it clear he really disliked it. 

“Yeah I uh, did a lot of this when I was younger but then some stuff happened and I stopped,” He did stop, kind of. At least around his classmates and teachers and adults and everyone who threw him glances whenever he opened his mouth for too long. 

Even his mother seemed to be weirded out by it but never said anything. Neither did she when he stopped. He didn't blame her though. Couldn't blame anyone for thinking his mumbling was weird because he knew it was. Downright creepy in his opinion but that was a habit something he couldn't exactly always control so he slipped up here and there and made everyone uncomfortable and-

“You seemed quite fine right now,” Shinsou hummed startling Izuku out of his thoughts. 

“Probably because you’re one of my first friends in a while,” Izuku coughed into his hand awkwardly.

It was true, Shinsou was something new. A friend who never had and never dreamt of having. He could relax and feel himself. Could be dumb and young and not think about consequences. It was really something he enjoyed and sought out the other teen more and more each day especially when he felt like he’d been spiralling down a dark path. 

“I can get that, I don't really have friends either,” Shinsou bumped their shoulders again and Izuku pushed back, keeping their shoulders brushing each other as they leisurely strolled through the city, most likely getting lost. Izuku hadn't paid attention to where they were going the past thirty minutes. 

“Lone Wolf Club?” Izuku grinned. 

“Are you a furry or something?” Shinsou snorted.

“Hey with modern society-” Izuku tried to speak but a loud voice called over him, startling the both of them. Shinsou had tripped crashing into the wall of the building, a pained grunt escaping him. 

“Look out!” Izuku managed to drop his drink in the moment, as a familiar hero appeared chasing another guy down the street they were walking. Just to their luck. 

“Ah, shit!” Izuku cursed when all of his drink spilt. He looked at Shinsou who was rubbing his shoulder squinting his eyes behind them into the drakerns until his eyes widened and he gaped. 

“Eraserhead?” Izuku twirled around squeaking when a guy came barreling towards them Erasheard in hot pursuit. 

“Kids get out of here!” The hero called out as the other guy neared them a grin on his face. Izuku stilled when he realized it was the same guy he threatened at the bar. His luck was in the ass and fate was a bitch. Of course, life wouldn’t go easy on him and have people who knew both him as Yami or Izuku meeting him every two days and have him almost trip on his own truths and expose himself. At least Shinsou knew nothing of it. 

Erasehead shot out his capture weapon narrowly missing the guy as Izuku pulled Shinsou by his arm into the alleyway out of the way of the guy who skidded to a halt clapping his hands together five times as hard as he could, each slap of his hand sounding louder than the last one. Sound-based quirk? Raw strength, or was it impulse-based? Kinetic energy?

Izuku forced his gaze away from the guy's hands shutting his mind off, he couldn't be distracted in case the guy thought to attack them. Shinsou was pressed against his back, in a manner Izuku wasn’t sure whether to look intimidating behind his shoulder or hide behind Izuku. In any case, he was glad Shinsou wasn't getting in his way. Who knew maybe he’d need to fight? Not that Eraserhead would be overly overjoyed but what the fuck Izuku didn’t care, the guy was pissing him off. 

“Yeah, yeah go kids you wouldn't want to see your hero getting killed now wouldn’t you?” The thug grinned flashing his wicked smile at them as Eraserhead shot his weapon out again wrapping it against the guy's hand who grinned wider like he’d expected. Izuku felt his lips peel into a smirk. He really hated that guy. 

“You think you can take him?” Izuku grinned at the guy who gave him a side glance evading the hero's kick. They stumbled across the street as Eraserhead pulled his capture weapon making the thug stumble and crash to the ground. He rolled out of the way as Aizawa jumped on him, clicking his tongue. Izuku could see Eraserhead’s eyes glowing meaning whatever the guy did with his hands was useless now. 

“Mido? C'mon, let’s go,” Shinsou mumbled, holding his hand yeah they most likely should get away and let Aizawa handle this without needing to look out for them. Because Izuku knew the hero would be always keeping tabs on them and that could possibly hinder the hero's movement. But something kept Izuku standing there, maybe it was his lack of sleep or just because he knew the guy and wanted to see him get kicked by Aizawa. Or maybe it was the stupid drink still on the ground getting crushed by the said thug like nothing.

Whatever it was had him grinning like a manic into the dead of the night wishing he had his bat with him so he could help Eraserhead bash the guy's skull open. 

“Little brat, cocky much?” The guy turned to him, clapping his hands again, jumping back as Eraserhead kicked at his legs, making the guy stumble, a frown on his face as he snarled at Aizawa. 

“Let’s see how well you’d talk with a hole in your head,” He ignored Aizawa, tearing his gaze away from the hero and back to Izuku. The same confident smile, the same arrogant nature had Izuku seething. 

“Don't taunt him, kid,” Izuku heard Aizawa say something along these lines but he just shook his head, laughing to himself. 

“Sorry, sorry Eraserhead, it's just funny how this guy thinks he can win this fight.” Izuku snorted, briefly glancing at Shinso who hardened his hold on his arm. 

“You’re literally barely holding on to your legs, your clapping hands which probably enhances your quirks seems to do nothing as you can't land a solid punch on Eraser here as well as getting your quirk erased on the stop. But alright keep talking, the next thing you’ll know will be a ride to the prison,” Izuku laughed, tears gathering in his eyes. 

“Also you own me a drink now,” Izuku mumbled, his laughing ceasing. Aizawa sent him a glance but Izuku didn’t catch it long enough to decipher the emotions in the hero's eyes and just turned to Shinsou who was gaping at him, wonder in his eyes. 

“Sorry, let's go Shinsou,” He whispered, grabbing Shinsou by his shoulder and dragging him through the alley. The sounds of fighting ceased at some point, either because they went far enough or Aizawa apprehended the villain.

Izuku had to stop at some point to press the heels of his palms into his eyes trying to push away the tears that had gathered. He took a deep breath and gulped looking at Shinsou who offered him a small comforting smile. 

“You're a badass Mido,” Shinsou said and Izuku laughed slightly. Like hell he was, he was just weird, definitely going insane and not stable if immediately wanting to cy was any indication. He needed help as soon as possible. 

He really wanted his drink now, the guy better pay up. If he managed to escape he’d hunt him down as Yami, identity be damned and would force him to buy him drinks for the next four months. 

“No, I'm just not coherent enough to get the signals of fight or flight in my head,” Really thought, he didn’t know what came up to him he just kinda had a blank mind, no thoughts coming or going just silence in his head as his mouth ran wild. 

“Understandable,” Shinsou nodded, shifting in his spot, taking a few tentative steps to lean against the wall of a building by their side. 

“You think Eraserheads gonna be alright?” Shinsou didn’t seem to mind Izuku's weird tendencies and whatever the fuck was that back there which Izuku was really thankful for. He wouldn’t be able to take any questions now. But then there was Eraserhead as well.  

“You think I can't take him?”  Aizawa appeared behind them as Shinsou jumped into the air. Speak of the devil. 

“Fuck!” He choked on his saliva and Izuku cracked a small laugh. 

“No swearing,” The hero hid a smile behind his scarf but Izuku noticed anyway. He doesn’t think he'd ever seen the hero smile, or maybe he has but just never took notice to remember that part. Some things more often than not were far more important in situations he met the hero in that Aizawas smile. 

“Where’d you come out of?” Shinsou was gasping for breath looking at the hero and flicking his gaze around him trying to find a place where the hero could have hidden. 

“He was following us the moment we turned into the alleyway,” Izuku shrugged.

“You noticed?” Of course he did, he'd be long dead or as dead as he could be if not for training his skill to notice people around himself. A while back before he made a proper name he used to be an easy target and would get followed a lot, eventually he figured out how to spot the clues and lead people in circles before escaping without a trace. 

“He didn't even try to hide, by the way. Aren't you supposed to be waiting for the police or I don't know,” Izuku raised his eyebrow at the hero who raised one back.

“There's another hero on the scene,” He simply said. Izuku couldn’t get the hero, was he just not that chatty or was he in a bad mood that Izuku went ahead and taunted the guy despite the hero asking not to? He knew he had put himself and Shinsou in danger without thinking and hindered the hero's work but he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

“I see,” Izuku mumbled. Yeah no, Aizawa didn’t seem all that happy and Izuku felt guilty, maybe just a tiny bit. 

“You should have run the moment I told you so,” And there it was. He was glaring at both of them and Izuku could only roll his eyes. He knew but he didn’t. Whatever. They were fine. The thug had been caught, and no one got injured, besides Shinsou having two left feet and stumbling into a wall himself. Realistically he's done nothing wrong.

“Hey don't glare at me, I tried to get him to move his legs,” Shinsou mumbled from his side and Izuku rolled his eyes. If anything Izuku knew Shinsou wanted to hop in as much as he, use his quirk and whatnot but that was highly illegal and would land Shinsou in a shit ton of problems. And if the teen wanted to get into the U.A. violating the law was the last thing he needed to do. 

“I have no self-preservation instinct,” He flashed a smile to Eraserhead who shook his head a deep sigh escaping. The hero looked at him with a tired gaze that told him that he was done with Izuku's antics. And truthfully he hadn’t done much tonight. He could do so much worse but that included revealing that he was Yami and that wasn't an option. Never would be.

“I noticed,” He flicked Izuku’s forehead. “No rooftop climbing tonight?” Izuku frowned, why?

“Already done,” He said, wondering what Aizawa would do with that information. He had already climbed the stairs, stared down a few rooftops wondering if it was worth it to jump and strolled around until Shinsou called him to meet up. 

“You-” Aizawa rubbed his forehead.  “What will I do with you?” He asked himself and Izuku just grinned. He could leave them alone, Izuku wanted to say but bit his tongue. “Get home you two, it’s dangerous,” 

“We can take care of ourselves,” Shinsou agreed from his side and Izuku realized how very one-sided this conversation was. If Izuku was Shinsou he’d probably feel five times the awkwardness Izuku felt now, being told off by a hero he met only a few times and shared one dinner with. 

“I noticed,” 

“Now home,” Aizawa reached out to flick Izuku’s forehead again but Izuku batted his hand away, sticking out his tongue at the hero. Aizawa only shook his head and disappeared into the night, most likely going back to the scene to get an update on the thug. Izuku had a half mind to follow him wondering what they’d do to the guy, if it wasn’t for Shinsou he’d rush after Aizawa immediately. 

“Is he like your dad?” Shinsou broke the silence as they turned to walk out of the alleyway. 

“What? No!” Izuku raised his eyebrow. What the guy was getting at? Aizawa was more like an annoying teacher than anything. 

“Strong dad vibes,” Shinsou only mumbled to himself, his eyes glinting with strange emotions. Izuku couldn't speak. He had no idea what the guy was talking about. 

“I don't get what you mean,” Izuku clicked his tongue. 

“Because you never had a dad?” Izuku whipped around to stare at Shinsou in disbelief, did he just? Shinsouy grinned at him. 

“Shut up before I leave your ass in this dirty ass alley,” Izuku couldn’t hide his snort as he tried to be mad at his friend.

“Oh no scary,” Shinsou laughed, trying to sound scared but failing miserably. 

“Shut up,” Izuku hid his smile. 

“Name?” Tsukauchi settled into his seat, preparing for a long interrogation if he had to go by the guy's smile and whatnot. 

Eraserhead had brought in another villain in the middle of the night claiming to have caused a ruckus on the street and threatened civilians. Which wasn’t anything new in their job but the murderous look on his friend's face had him pausing and wondering what had the guy done to make Aizawa so mad.

“Naomi Shizuo,” Truth. He sighed. As far as he knew the guy had accidentally threatened a kid Aizawa had recently taken into his unofficial care if he had to go by Yamada complaining about his husband's habits of looking at their spare room and mumbling incoherent plans of adjusting the furniture for a teenage kid. 

“Quirk?” 

“Hard palm,” Truth. Of course as far as Tsukauchi heard the kid had taunted the villain and escalated the situation but also helped Aizawa in the long run to capture the guy. He was distracted by the kids talking and completely lost his focus on Eraserhead, letting him easily wrap the guy up like a burrito and give it to another hero on the scene who could make bubbles, isolating the guy the next instant. 

“What does it do?” He had the quirk of basic information right in front of him but he wanted to hear from the guy himself, energy-stocking enhancers were quite rare after all. 

“The more times I deliver any kind of kinetic energy to my hands the harder my palms get, after ten hits it can break through concrete,” Truth. The guy was surprisingly vigilant in answering his questions even if he looked beyond bored and wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. Tsukauchi couldn’t agree more. 

“Now Naomi Sinzuo, why do you think you’re here,” Besides loitering around, causing property damage and threatening civilians, Tsukauchi had nothing on the guy's official record. Thugs like him often had a lot of hidden crimes behind their names that never made a connection to them and went unnoticed by the police even after capture. 

Tsukauchi hummed to himself Yami was similar in a lot of ways. Had almost nothing to his name until a week ago. He had to wonder for a brief moment what would Aizawa do once they had the kid and he was proven guilty. Tsukauchi could see how much Aizawa was getting attached to Yami as much as Izuku. The man was a parent at heart if he had to go by how fast he got two boys settled in his heart and thinking about adopting them both even if he never outwardly said it. 

Tsukauchi, one who knew his friend well enough to see his small smile whenever he, so much as mentioned, any of them. 

“C’mon detective let’s not play games, it's kind of boring, just list off your accusations yada yada and tell me how bad I did and whatnot,” The villain rolled his shoulder, shifting in his seat. Tsukuachi flickered his gaze to the villain's bound hands checking that the quirk supresion locks were still on. He had no fear for his safety but once in a while villains got creative and got out of their seats expecting to make it back outside. 

“Being sarcastic or snippy will get you nowhere,” Tsukauchi flashed a smile at the villain who groaned jostling his hands and making the cuffs cling against the table. 

“Damn, I thought that’d work,” The villain mumbled and Tsukuachi had to raise his eyebrow. The guy didn’t seem that stupid but to think sarcasm and typical annoyance would get him back onto the streets? That wasn’t something Tsukauchi heard every day. 

“What makes you think so?”

“That Yami kid gets away being a sarcastic little shit quite fine,” Tsukauchi had to pause. What? Yami? He was sure Aizawa was getting ready to burst into the room so he cleared his throat and hoped the hero would have a half a mind to stay back for now. 

“You know Yami?” He asked cautiously, it was presumptuous to think that Yami wasn’t well known in the underground as well. It wouldn’t be surprising if Yami was a tale to scare some new villains in the making as well. 

“Who doesn’t, he's famous, especially as of late, heard he killed someone but not sure if it’s true,” Tsukauchi winced, right. 

“If you’re talking about the metal hero: Beam then- he’s alive,” Tsukauchi really hoped that it was just the metal hero and not someone else they hadn’t found yet. Although the recent findings have so far shown a clear record in that regard. But villains weren’t known to stick to their past habits. With the witch hunt as of late who knew maybe the kid would snap and actually kill someone? From what Eraserhead said he didn’t exactly seem the type but who knew? A child cornered, especially a child like Yami, was like a wild beast. They had to expect the unexpected. 

“What can you tell me about Yami?” Tsukauchi shifted gears, pulling out a blank piece of paper. Their conversation was being recorded but jotting down the villain's answer would still be useful. At any rate whenever they, so much as talked about Yami Tsukauchi felt the need to double-copy any information they had. If he didn’t know any better he’d think the kid was crazy enough to hack their computers. If he could do that, that is. 

“I thought this interview was about me?” Tsukauchi raised his eyebrow at the villain who scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “Fine, what do I get out of it,”

“This is an interrogation, not twenty-one questions,” Many villains forgot that the police didn’t work as the movies showed they did. No one was bargaining here to drop the chances of pulling the short end of the stick. Of course, any information given voluntarily or a confession is taken into account in punishing the said villains. But that didn’t mean they got an automatic pass just because they said a few sentences more than others. Justice didn’t work like that, even with its flawed sides. 

“But it can be, I bet Eraserheads listening right now too, heard he’s been running around to capture Yami,” Naomi grinned like he knew more than they and he wouldn’t put it past him to do so. Nothing gave more information than being at the centre of it all. 

“Come on now Eraserhead I know you want to ask questions too. Come in come in,” The villain taunted, looking at the mirror at the side of the room every thug knew was a double-sided glass. He frowned when no door was being opened and no hero entered the room. 

“Naomi Shizuo I ask you to settle down,” Naomi clicked his tongue and settled back in the chair, leaning his head back and staring at the light above them. 

“Fine, you’re no fun,” 

“Anyway,” Naomi sighed, his shoulders sinking down.

“I can't tell you much about Yami other than he’s crazy but hella smart, he’s been really stirring up the scene as of late especially with Trigger,” 

“Trigger?” Tuskauchi raised his eyebrow. Yami had already helped them apprehend a few gangs involving Trigger but was there more of that? Did the police force not know something of high importance that Yami did? It really didn’t help Yami’s case if he was withholding information although he was never obligated to give any in the first place. But once you committed, withdrawing raised questions. And a lot of them, especially so in Yami’s case. 

“Yeah, I heard he’s doing some deal with this big supplier, and actually confirmed some rumours about him taking Trigger recently to boost his quirk,” Well this certainly was very different from what Tsukauchi had in mind. Is Yami working with Trigger dealers instead of against them? 

From Eraserhead's report of their talk on the rooftop, the kid had been pretty against drug dealing in general, especially Trigger. What would be the cause for him to suddenly shift his stances? Was the kid in trouble or did the hero mobilization really drive him to come to drastic behaviours? Tsukauchi had to hope it wasn’t the latter. 

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“Nah I'm just a random thug,” Naomi shrugged in front of him and Tuskauchi detected no lie, unfortunately. Despite his status as a villain, it didn’t guarantee that he knew anything the police wouldn't. That was the case usually when working with villains who hid themselves from public view. One that worked in close quarters with information didn’t make it into the limelight for more than their name. He doubted a random thug would know of any important plans Yami had been stirring up lately. 

“I just happen to be at a bar when he caused a whole scene and overheard some stuff, then he came back a few days later,” Tsukauchi hummed, the bar, was the day Eraserhead came barreling to the police station saying Yami passed out from blood loss and looked like shit and that they needed to send out a search party otherwise the kid would die? Most definitely.

Tsukauchi knew Dabi got Yami but who said the villain had any means to help Yami? 

“He doesn't do his deal out in public and hides a lot, which is understandable, if I was a small scrawny kid I would too,” Tsukauchi nodded. That was very much understandable. In a world like theirs Yami didn't look like someone who fought that much and used his brain more so than anything, although knowing that metal hero incident and the fact that he had suffered mild damage to his brain said otherwise. 

“I see thank you for your input, anything else?” Naomi shook his head. 

“Well let's continue with your criminal offences,” Tsukauchi had to breathe out and take a minute with this. He wished they would have gotten more information out of this. This was their chance to finally understand the kid a little bit more, to understand how to help him but instead, they got more problems. Trigger. Drug dealing. Some rumours and a shit ton of worry in Tsukauchis's heart. 

“Oh wait,” Naomi hummed, making Tsukauchi raise his head. 

“What is it?”

“If you want to get to Yami you better do it fast, I heard that since he said he can't die or something some people want to see if it's true and have been forgiven groups to capture him but you didn’t hear that from me,” Can’t die? That was alarming. So the rumours were about this? Whoever spread this either wanted Yami to be dead or there was something none of them knew which was as plausible as the first option. 

“Everything you tell us here is confidential information and will not be revealed to the public under any circumstances,” Tsukauchi would make sure the man didn’t get too severely punished for helping them with the ongoing investigation. It was valuable information even if there wasn’t that much but this they could work with. 

“Sweet, can I like get prison time chipped off for giving information voluntarily?” Tsukauchi shook his head, a little laugh escaping his lips. 

“Hello Tsukauchi, long time no see,” Yagi shuffled into Tsukauchi's office with his smaller form, bones creaking, muscles aching. 

“Ah Yagi, come in, it’s been a while,” His old friend stood up, extending his hand for a brief handshake before shuffling back to his overfilled desk. Yagi raised his eyebrow. Wasn’t the modern technology letting them work easier having the files in digital format? Or perhaps the matter was of importance that a hacker could obtain so they had to be careful? Whatever it may be Yagi smiled at his friend wishing him the best. 

“How are things going?” He collapsed onto the couch not too far from Tsukauchi’s table, reaching out for a pastry offered on the coffee table. Indulging in the sweet, he caught Tsukauchi's tired gaze. 

“Slow as usual,” Yagi shook his head. It was never slow in the modern quirk-filled world. 

“Ah right my friend, what was it -Yami? Right? Running around stirring the underground,” Yagi watched Tsukauchi pop behind the mountain of papers looking at him like he grew two heads before mumbling something to himself that Yagui strained to hear. 

“Right everyone’s been debriefed,”

“I was surprised that a kid had the whole force on their toes,” Yagi was really surprised to get a call in the middle of the day telling him that there was a certain kid running around being a menace to society and that the HPSC was concerned that the kid would hurt himself and others in the long run. Whatever that meant. It kept Yagi on his toes and he shuffled to his friend's office the moment he was free enough. 

“Those were excessive measures,” Yagi could only mumble. He didn’t like this one bit. As All Might he said nothing to the HPSC but as Yagi Toshinori he wrote a long letter in regards to what they expected to do with the boy once they had him. But he hadn’t hit send yet. 

“I believe so too,” 

“How old is he?” He knew the boy was young. 

“Should be around 13-14,” Tsukauchi sounded tired. 

“Oh my, just a boy,” Barely a teen, just starting his life and yet being targeted by HPSC so early on. 

“Yeah, but skilful enough to take down empires and evade police for two years,”

“The young minds always work overtime,” Yagi hummed. He wasn’t surprised. Age didn’t matter once someone had their mind set towards a certain goal. Yagi wasn’t privy to Yami's goal and would probably never be but he knew that he could understand the kid from what he heard. He was vicious, smart, and invisible. All Might didn’t patrol through the night so he had no idea how to find the boy but if he ever did he would like to give him a hug. 

“Anything particular you came in for?”

“Not really,” Yagi shifted in his seat, his body had been wearing him down more day by day. Tsukauchi of course noticed it, pulling back from work. 

“How's been successor findings so far?” Well, that was a topic he’d rather not discuss. After the failure of the kid he found at the start of the school year nothing had come up for Yagi to consider. 

“Well, I met a kid but he said no,” He could only say that watching as Tsukauchi raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“No? Really?” He knew it was unexpected but Yikes did Tsukauchi make it sound worse than he initially thought it was. 

“I was surprised but he said he didn’t want to be a hero so I didn't push it,” The young man's speech, and accusations were like a slap to his face. He’d hung on to what the boy said for days and weeks and still wanted to apologize for coming on so strong. He was so to speak desperate but that shouldn't have excused him to just go for it. The boy made it clear he didn’t want to do anything with him. 

“I see,” 

“It’s the kid who rushed into the sludge villain accident weeks ago,” He had seen the lack of hesitation on the boy's part, how he rushed in and swung his bag, aimed perfectly at the villain's head. He’d seen it all, the perfect instincts of a hero, too bad that wasn’t the case. 

“Wait Izuku Midoriya?” Tsukauchi widened his eyes.  

“Yeah?”

“The world sure is small,” His friend laughed to himself briefly. Did the detective know the kid? Surely his name would come up with the full report of the incident but that shouldn't have raised any flags in the man's head. 

“How so?” Yagi decided to tread carefully. 

“Eraserhead had been chatting with him these past few weeks,” Aizawa? That was surprisingly unexpected, he didn’t take the hero for the soft kind. But they weren't particularly close so he couldn’t judge the man in that regard. But who knew Aizawa had a soft spot for kids? 

“I see,” He nodded, gulping down a ball of emotions that gathered in his throat. “Hows-, how is he?” He hoped the boy was alright, but remembering how their conversations progressed Yagi couldn’t be sure about the boy's positive outlook on life. 

“Truth to be told, Eraserheads worried,” He sighed. Of course, somehow he felt like he was one of the more negative encounters in the young man's life. Now he wished he could really apologize. 

“I guess people with healing quirks can be rather brash,” 

“Healing quirk?” Tsukauchi asked, voice hesitant. 

“Yes?”

“He’s written as quirkless in the database,” Yagi hummed. Was something not adding up here?

“A healing quirk you said? By any chance how strong is it?” Tsukauchi grew more panicked with each passing second and Yagi knew he had somehow fucked up. In one way or another, he did something bad just now. Shit.

“He mentioned it being minor but I think he might have been minimising his strength,” Yagi stood up walking over to Tsukauchi’s desk where he had pulled up both midoriya Izuku and the infamous villain Yami. 

“Everything alright Tsukauchi? He's not in trouble is he?” He was clutching the table. He really fucked up, didn’t he?

“I’m not sure,” Was Tsukauchi’s answer before he pulled out his phone dialing someone. 

“Oh dear god,” Yagi collapses into the chair by Tsukauchi's desk. 

“Hey, Aizawa? Yeah, it's about Yami or Midoriya as well, no you’re not going to like it if it's true, yes, I’ll see you later,” He watched his friend put down the phone and sight. A long tired sight like he’d just lost the lead of a very important case. 

“Thank you Yagi for your insight,” Tsukuachi mumbled and Yagi dumbly nodded, right. 

“Care to elaborate?” He whispered although he probably didn’t want to hear whatever his friend had to say. 

“I’m not sure I want to come to that conclusion,” Tsukauchi didn’t seem to be either. 

“Here,” Dabi stared at the tightly wrapped packet in front of him. 

“What’s this?” He frowned, not liking where this was going. 

He had been taking a stroll around the city when some thugs decided to call him saying they had some stuff he might want. He was tight on money so decided to check it out. But this so far didn't seem like anything he’d like. 

“Pay,” One of the men spoke up, grinning at him. Dabi wrinkled his nose. 

“For what?” This better be good or he was burning something down tonight. 

“If you help us capture Yami,” Dabi raised his eyebrow. Were they actually serious?

“Capture Yami? Do you know who I am” He growled. What the fuck. Did these thugs get more and more stupid as time went on? It was a well-known fact they worked together quite a bit. Who in their right mind would ask him to help capture the brat?

“Of course we know that’s why we’re asking if you’d help us catch the brat,” Dabi clicked his tongue. Right. Betrayal and whatnot. He sighed, better see through with this. What the deal was and all. 

“How much is there?” He kicked the packet with his foot, raising his eyebrow. 

“70k,” 

“70k for my partner?” He sighed, it was a lot. One full rent and months' worth of food. Enough for him to get by easily and relax for a while. Damn it. 

“Yami’s working alone though,” One of the thugs said and Dabi shifted his stance. Yeah, Yami has been working alone a lot recently. They hadn't gone out on their usual burning spree for over a month and all the times he’d seen the kid was getting his ass to safety or the kid just coming to pick up stuff he left at his apartment. Which wasn't that much, the former more so than the latter. 

“Why do you even want to capture him?” He raised his eyebrow. What good did they have captured him? It’s not like he was rich or anything, maybe they needed information that would work. But there were easier ways to do that, just ask Yami straight forward. He did most of his work pretty cheap and if it wasn’t anything drastic he always agreed. A bit reckless for Dabi but the kid could do whatever he wanted as long as he wasn't dragging Dabi into the mess. 

“He’s been causing a ruckus, heroes are more alert. It's hard to get by these weeks, he needs to go,” The leader sounded very much offended by Yami’s existence Dabi could only roll his eyes.

“I see,”

“So? Deal?” The leader stared at him and Dabi winced. Fuck. 

“Damn it, fine,” He took the packet and weighed it. Seemed about right. 

“Glad we could make a deal, you better bring your friend here two days from now on,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dabi shuffled home not knowing what to make of it. Yami would surely hate him for this.

Chapter Text

The cold of his apartment rattled Izuku to his bones the moment he stepped through the door. It was hard to miss the lack of light turned on despite no one being home, the clinking of pots and utensils in the kitchen or the running of the washer and scurrying steps of someone not Izuku around the house. It was hard not to miss all of that. But it wasn’t hard to miss it as well, especially when Izuku kept forgetting simple things that used to be, well, simple. Things that he’d never thought he would miss. 

Like the kettle being warm for him when he wanted to drink coffee even if he hadn’t put it up that day. 

Or the two toothbrushes in the bathroom. Or the lack of blankets on the couch because someone always kept forgetting to put them back. Or the shoes that were not his. Or the smell of breakfast on Saturday morning that wasn’t his own doing. 

Simple things that somehow made Izuku feel like he’d been beaten black and blue. And- right he was. 

With a heavy heart, Izuku set off to the living room. The couch felt too big, the TV too loud even if it wasn’t turned on. Everything felt unlike the way it should be. Not the way it used to be. 

Izuku usually dealt with the silence of his home well. He didn’t have time to sit and contemplate on what it lacked as he was always running and running and trying not to die too many times until he made his way to his bed. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he didn’t but he just didn’t have time to sit around and think about what he lacked or needed as a kid. He didn’t have the luxury to be a kid at these times. Didn’t have the time to think. 

Unfortunately for him, his mind didn't care that he didn’t have time. Ringing filling his ears and blacking out every other sound. He was far too used to the oncoming panic flooding his senses to be surprised but somehow he didn’t feel the need to crouch and clutch his head. Didn’t have the need to pull his hair until the pain droned out the ringing. Izuku just stared ahead at the blank TV, the ringing not stopping for a moment. 

By the time he’d gotten back tonight, or rather this morning the sun was almost up. Gentle sunlight streaming into his grey apartment. Reminding Izuku that the world didn’t stop for him. 

Maybe in all of that, it took a little to realize that the ringing wasn’t actually a panic attack creeping up his skin, crawling with its long nails digging into his skin. But actually, his alarm clock blaring in his bedroom. 

It was time to wake up for school. 

He stood up and looked down at his body, bloody, beaten and so apparent that something had happened. It didn’t really click in Izuku’s mind that he did- Izuku took a deep shaky breath, a laugh escaping his lips. 

His hands fell to his side after a weak attempt to try and tame his curls crusted with blood. He took another deep breath, a snort escaping his lips. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The last two days were shit. The last two days had him crawling through sewers cursing out Dabi. The last two days had him wishing he could ask for help. Or maybe it wouldn't. Because what good would the help bring? It was too risque to even consider that. Wasn’t he Yami? The most feared uprising villain of the underground? Wasn’t he a kid who spat police in the face and told Eraserhead to fuck off?

Yeah, he was! He was a villain. The villains didn’t ask for help. Villains choose this. So what good Izuku was doing thinking he was right to ask for help? 

No tears flowed down his cheeks and he just started laughing, a full-on belly laugh. That should have been his first warning sign. One of many. That he was bound to snap.

The last two days, started with the buzz of his phone or was it more, Izuku couldn’t remember.

An alert from Giran. The man wanted to talk. Which essentially wasn’t anything too bad in Izuku's opinion. Only a harmless meeting under the roof of some lousy restaurant drinking cheap coffee. Izuku had sat down expecting nothing more than information on Shie Hassaikai, maybe a demand from them to hurry the fuck up. Izuku had been neglecting his job a little. 

Okay, maybe a lot. He’d been far too preoccupied with other things. Like trying to make sense of his miserable life but not succeeding at all. Perhaps the conversation would have him going back to planning. Even if he was stressing out about the cheap foundation he got to cover his freckles when Giran mentioned grabbing coffee. 

Contrary to popular belief Giran had only smiled at him and said one thing. One ominous thing that Izuku hoped to never hear again. 

“Be careful Yami,” Which was not creepy at all. Like not at all but Izuku narrowed his eyes at the man who took a sip of his coffee. Izuku sighed. Must they do this every time?

“Of who?” He didn’t ask why. He didn’t wonder what the man meant because he always had to be careful whether he wanted or not, whenever he had any prior warning. But if Giran had gone out of his way to warn him he should listen. Best if he had the names of people who wanted to hurt him. He wouldn’t be surprised if there would be too many to list. 

But Girans' answer had Izuku wondering if he had made a mistake at one point in his villain career. Apparently, he had missed a major red warning flag, despite being a whole-ass miserable kid himself, somewhere. A waving flag thrust right into his face but somewhere along the line, he brushed it off. Stupid of him. 

But also very in character of him to just jump head first into danger and then think later. Even if he was supposed to be smart and calculate all possible outcomes. He may have made everyone believe that he did that. When in reality his lack of thinking when coming up with a decision on the spot had put him in many unwelcome situations. 

“Friends aren't always who they seem to be,” He gave another creepy smile of his. And Izuku had to wonder if the man was talking about himself. But they weren't friends. Just partners. 

Then the suspicions immediately settled on Dabi. They were friends. That was true. They were friends for almost two years and Izuku trusted Dabi. Kind of. A lot with his life. Maybe a little less with his plans. And even less with his identity. But trust was a vague thing. It spanned from ‘I’m going to kill you if you ever find something about me, but I can allow you to keep me close’ to ‘Everything that I am, I entrust to you and hope you don’t use it against me’ kind of thing. Izuku stood with Dabi somewhere between all of that. 

A fine line as he once said.

Surprisingly the next suspect was Eraserhead. Once again they weren’t friends, not business partners, nothing. But he’d met the man enough to know more about him than some of his classmates he spent the last three years learning with. Izuku denied that having any relation to his obsessive habit of analysing heroes and that Eraserhead took up a lot in his notes. Even more so after he met the man a few times. 

But it wasn’t like Aizawa knew him the way Izuku did. The man had split opinions and images of him, because of his double identity. As for Izuku, he had just one man showcasing different sides of him to supposedly two different people. He just didn’t fit the category. Izuku hated that he was relieved. 

“What do you count as a ‘friend’,” Izuku narrowed his eyes. Giran was making him unsure about himself about the people he surrounded himself with. Izuku tried to avoid that whilst dealing with his job. 

It only lead to getting hurt. Or dying. Or anything that came after because yeah he couldn't-. 

At one point in time, Izuku had to stop reminding himself that he couldn’t die and just act like little ignorant shit. Maybe that would stop him from breaking a piece of himself away every time he committed.

“That’s for you to figure out yourself,” Giran finished his coffee calling the servant over to ask for another coffee, throwing a sweet smile at the servant. Izuku almost gagged at the girls giggling. 

“Listen Giran I appreciate your warning and all, but if you’re going to warn me or whatever stop being a cryptic dipshit,” He hissed, pulling on his mask after finishing his own cup.  

“Such language for such a young man, Yami,” Izuku rolled his eyes. Who was Giran to talk about corrupting such youth as him? Flirting in front of a kid no less, the man should take notes from what he says himself. 

“If you have something to say, say it,” Izuku didn’t want to play games. If Giran had nothing more to tell him, something of importance then Izuku was off. Out of here and out of sight. He didn’t miss the way some patrons were eyeing him. Especially the moment he took off his mask. That was risque but trying to keep it on at a restaurant that seemed to be more of a run-down bar than anything would draw unnecessary attention towards him. Also would alert people that he had something to hide with it. He did but oh well. Cheap foundation it was. 

“Nothing at all Yami,” Giran grinned as Izuku fished some money out of his pocket, gently placing it on the table. He never got why they always slammed it down in the movies. 

“Only that letting a particular hero know two sides of you might backfire,” Izuku stilled. His hand resting on the placed money, his eyes glistening under the soft light of the room. He took a deep breath glancing up at Giran. How?

“What do you mean,” He mumbled. How did the man find out? 

“I’m sure you know Yami, as I said be careful, we can’t have one of the best villains leaving the scene because you didn’t think about the consequences,” Izuku bit his lips. Right, right. Izuku doubted he cared about Izuku and his identities or whatever, he only needed him for business. Which was logical, the man relied on people needing information and providing it. 

“You’re saying this like half of the underground wouldn’t be happy if I was gone,” People wanted him dead for fucks sake. He was a menace. Both in a funny and serious way. People hated him and disliked him. Those who disliked only wished he didn’t meddle in their business, and those who hated, well, you know already. Many had personal agendas for whatever reason against him. He didn’t think that he’d done all that much in the end, but somehow acquiring enemies was so easy. Getting rid of them though? That was another story. 

“True, but the other half? They’d miss you,” Giran pointed to himself to insinuate that he was part of the other half as well. Izuku had to laugh. Sure. Whatever. But that didn’t change that people wanted him dead. Just because one half was good and the other didn’t change shit. 

“Getting attached is unnecessary,” He would know. He did know. 

“Wouldn’t you say that Yami,” Izuku ignored his comment getting up. 

“If you’re going to be a hypocrite at least don’t make it obvious,” Giran knew as well. Izuku wondered if he was that transparent or if was Giran just that smart. Whatever it may be, he didn't want to continue this conversation any longer. 

“I’m leaving,” He whispered, nodding to the servant who smiled at him making her way through the crowd to clean up his place at the table even if Giran was still silently sipping his other coffee that got brought over somewhere along the way. Izuku didn’t notice that, but it didn’t really matter. 

“I forget you’re still a kid Yami,” Giran leaned in his chair as Izuku stopped by his seat, not looking at the man. 

 “Sometimes I wonder, how did you even survive in this cruel world?” Izuku chuckled. 

“That’s the thing Giran, I didn't,” He mumbled and escaped the restaurant into the warm night air. The air felt suffocating. 

The following conversation would be on Izuku’s mind for a long time. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Giran knew. A lot. And it bothered Izuku. Giran knew a lot more than Izuku was comfortable with. He shouldn’t be surprised because he expected that. 

Unfortunately, it was the least of Izuku's worries. If he had to choose between whatever happened next and listening to Giran ridicule him for hours on end, he’d choose the latter. If he knew. Sometimes he wished he had a future-telling quirk. 

Dabi had called. Asked to meet up. Pretty normal. Pretty okay and whatnot. Izuku was used to the guy calling him whenever he asked to meet up because he wanted to cause chaos. More often than not Izuku was very down for doing some simple vandalism to burn excess energy off. 

And yet he’d been so tired these days that he had half a mind to refuse Dabi. Wanted to say no and just go home and lay in his bed for a bit. Remember to set an alarm for school and answer any texts Shinsou had sent him in the time span he was out as Yami. He never risked opening them whenever he went out, if someone was spying on his phone he pretty much would put his friend in danger. So he waited. 

But Dabi insisted on meeting up. Which should have rung some bells in Izuku’s mind. Because if they were meeting up it was usually Dabis' apartment to choose a random location to set out to. But this time Dabi said he already had an idea where they could go. Ding, ding, ding, warning number one. 

And Izuku was too tired to care. He was just tired because if Dabi already had an idea already where to go then fine by him. He wouldn't have to think too much, gods he needed a break. 

Merely five hours after talking to Dabi on the phone when the sky was starting to whiten, Izuku fucked up. Or well. He -twenty-four hours later-  he definitely knew he fucked up. Warning number too that it took a whole day to realise the shit he got himself into.  

It was no biggie. Dabi told him that he actually heard some guys talk about another potential job. Izuku tried to reason with himself that he didn’t need the job because he had so much money now he would be fine for a while. And yet. He was curious. He didn’t think like usual and set himself up. 

If only he knew. 

“Where did you hear,” He asked the moment they met up. No time to waste but he got as much information as he could before the potential meet-up. If it didn’t sound interesting enough he’d just take Dabi up for his original plan to burn something down. 

“Don’t remember, probably around two days ago,” Dabi shrugged, looking like he was bored out of his mind and Izuku hummed. Two days. Two days?

“I see,” Two days was a bit long on Dabi’s part. He was usually impatient and would tell Izuku immediately. Why would he wait? Izuku flicked his gaze at his friend who didn’t look at him since the moment they met not even once. 

 “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Just didn’t” He shrugged again and Izuku flicked his gaze around the alleyway they were walking through. He caught the name of the street. Wasn’t this a dead end?

“Okay,” He mumbled. “You seem nervous,” He tried, followed by a light chuckle but Dabi’s shoulder rose slightly before dropping back down. Was he paranoid? He could trust Dabi, right? Giran had only been messing with him, right? 

“I’m not,”

“Dabi,” Izuku tried again. He was just so damn tired. 

”Yeah?” Dabi stopped, finally turning to look at Izuku. 

“I can trust you right?” Izuku stared at him. Oh, how he wished he’d gotten his bat tonight. Just a small lousy knife in his pants pocket. One that had been enough before but seems so little now. 

“Dabi?” Izuku tried again when Dabi said nothing, opting to stay silent, his gaze flicking to somewhere behind Izuku. 

“I’m sorry Yami,” He gave a tight smile, his scars stretching in a somewhat unpleasant way. 

“For what?” 

“No hard feelings, you’ll be alright,” Dabi reassured him, putting his hand on Izuku’s shoulder briefly before slipping it away. For all his capability to notice people around him, he failed miserably here. 

“Dabi?”

He blacked out. 

Aizawa stumbled into Tsukauchis office in such a familiar manner, his legs almost tangle on each other. He had rushed here as fast as he could, as soon as he was free. Worry deep in his heart. 

Yami just couldn’t sit still. Hizashi followed closely behind him, opting to come along this time. His worry was far too great from the little information he had on the case and on the children. 

Aizawa couldn’t really say no when his husband had put his foot down and told him he wanted to help the kids even if he didn’t know them as much as Aizawa did. Hizashi had a point when he said he was a hero and if he knew someone was in trouble he would help regardless of personal interests. Aizawa did the same after all. 

Twelve hours later after Tsukauchi's call, both of them were at Tsukauchi’s office. The detective still looked like he slept here and the bag under his eyes could easily rival Aizawa's own. He flicked his gaze to another man sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, looking like death. Pale and skinny, he screamed a frail man. But his height was nothing to laugh at the moment he stood up as Aizawa closed the door behind him. 

“What’s the situation?” 

“So glad to see you Aizawa and Yamada too, sit down please this will not be a light topic to discuss,” Tsukauchi stood up to shake both of their hands gesturing to the chairs, his face pulled into a frown. 

“Also this is Yagi Toshinori. He's a friend of mine and has met Midoriya before, hence I called you,” He gestured to the tall man who greeted them with a soft smile. After another round of handshakes and brief introductions, Tsukauchi sat in his chair with a long sigh. 

“What’s the matter with the little listener?” 

“I have a theory to believe Yami and Izuku are the same person,”  Aizawa paused. Yami and Izuku. Yami and Midoriya are the same kid running around, getting injured and drinking energy drinks while hanging out on rooftops at midnight. The same kid who said to leave him alone the next day said he admired Aizawa. The same kid. 

“Come again?” Hizashi squeezed his arm but he barely felt it. 

“Midoroya Izuku and Akatani Mikumo are-”

“I heard you the first time,” Aizawa sighed. This was ridiculous. 

“Shota be nice,” 

“I’m sure we all are quite shocked about Tsukauchi's theory,” Yagi flashed them another smile which didn’t settle the swirl of nerves in Aizawa's stomach. It only made it worse over all. 

“On what basis it’s made,” They couldn’t blindly acuse Midoriya of being a villain with crimes of two-year length under his belt. It was ridiculous. What was Tsukauchi thinking? 

“Well Yagi had met Izuku before the whole fiasco with Yami started to go down, before you met Midoriya too,” Aizawa flicked his gaze to Yagi who sat with his shoulders hunched. His eyes forever shadowed in a way that showed the wear and tear of years on the man. 

“I don’t think the timeline is that relevant, Tsukauchi,” Yagi murmured a sigh escaping his lips that screamed tiredness and regret. As if the topic was heavy to him. Who exactly was he to Midoriya? 

“What the detective is trying to say is that I met Midoriya and had a conversation with him and his quirk came up at some point,” Wait. Wait. Quirk? Aizawa remembered searching up Midoriya and seeing another apparent lack of quirk in the kid. Just like Akatani. 

“His quirk? Isn’t he quirkless,” Hizashi raised a question. His husband only knew the basis but even then it should be obvious enough that something isn't adding up.

“That’s what everyone believed until Yagi told me he isn't,” 

“How does it tie into Yami?” Why did it matter? Did they have similar quirks? That was no basis to structure such an accusation against Midoriya. Many quirks could be mistaken as similar these days. With as many people on the Earth as there were, similar quirks weren’t uncommon. Take elemental quirks for example. 

“Well remembered the thug we captured not too long ago?” Naomi Shizuo. 

“What about him?”

“He mentioned Yamis quirk and his using Trigger to boost it, whenever it's true or not, the rumour states that Yami ‘can’t die’, which essentially are only rumours but that would insinuate a healing or regeneration quirk of sorts,” 

“And Izuku Midoriya happens to have a healing quirk,” Healing. A healing quirk. 

“Quirks can be repetitive,” Aizawa said. Because they were. But doubt seeped into his mind. But what if? What if Yami was Izuku? What if Izuku was a villain? What would Aizawa do?

“Detective may I ask what else you would push for this theory, I somehow don’t believe you’d cling to it just because of his quirk,” Hizashi made a point. Tsukauchi was smart and wouldn’t blindly follow these speculations even if he was more privately invested than usual. There was certain professionalism they all held onto no matter who the job was about.

“While initially I only got around the quirk I started to dig deeper into Midoriya's files and try to see a connection between him and Yami,” Right. Of course, he would. Of course, there would be more connections. Because life was cruel and would push a kid like Midoriya into becoming a villain and taking up the name of a dead child a year younger than him. Aizawa had to ask Izuku why. Somehow he knew Izuku-Yami would answer ‘why not’? 

“Obvious is that they’re both males, around the same height, Akatani Mikumo is dead so it would be a great cover-up for Izuku to use,” No matter how wrong that was. 

“Their voices are similar,” Aizawa sighed. They were. The voices. They were so similar. Aizawa didn’t know how he’d never think about it. It was so obvious now. Every interaction just gave him more clues each and every time but he chose to ignore them because he only focused on what Yami was doing. Never on why. 

“Aizawa-san?”

“The more I think about it I can see where you’re coming from, even if it sounds very far stretched,” In the end, it still was a theory, one that made too much sense. 

“Shota you can’t deny there’s something,” He wasn’t. At first yes but doubt overtook him too fast for him to think rationally. Because things just made sense. 

“I don’t want to believe it either, but it would explain a few things,” It would explain a lot more than that. God that day when he was bleeding out. Did he let himself do that because of his healing? Did the kid not care about his own life because he could always heal up from some broken bones and what not? But what about when he slipped up and died? What then? Aizawa tried not to think about the rumours of Trigger. Tried not to think of the many times he caught Midoriya on the edge of the roof peering down as if the ground would give him a hug. 

“The same sarcasm, similar voice or at least I thought it was similar, but might as well be the same,” They had the same jokes, the same charm. Or he for that matter. Not two different people anymore. Just one, just two identities.

“Their heights do match up, sometimes Izuku's hair seemed darker which would entail hair dye?” He most likely changed his appearance with simple things. Hair dye for hair obviously. Coloured contacts. Did he wear the mask to cover his freckles? That would be the most logical thing although very dangerous and easy to get rid of. Easy to expose him. And yet it took them two years to make a connection and they did it only by some sheer luck. Izuku knew how to hide. 

“I see,” Tsukauchi nodded. 

Silence struck the room. Hizashi was still clutching his hand in a death grip. He knew his husband was nervous and scared. He was too. Scared for what could happen to the kid. It’s not like he lost all of his skills the moment they found out, or at least speculated things. But it was nerve-wracking, knowing the kid and oh god Aizawa knew where he lived. Tsukauchi could easily look it up but Aizawa had been by his home the first he met Izuku. It took him almost two months to find out. But he can’t say he looked for it either. 

“Then what is our plan of action?” Yagi met eyes with everyone in the room, but no one had any answer besides something Aizawa really didn’t want to hear. 

“I’m afraid we can’t do much in regard to Izuku without a proper blood test, we have nothing more than speculations,”

“Then I’ll go find him, I’m on patrol anyway,” He stood up, startling Hizashi who took after him right after.

“Shota wait,” Hizashi gave him a small smile and Aizawa closed his eyes. Izuku would be fine. 

“What now?” Yagi stared at the open door. 

“We wait,” No one dared to say their worst fear of being too late to save the boy. 

Chapter Text

Blacking out was one of the least favourite things Izuku had to experience in his life. He hated the sensation of waking up in a different place than he last remembered or hurting all over not knowing why. Especially if he was previously hurt, then it took a question of how hard had he hurt himself to still feel the pain whatever hours later he woke up. 

Albeit this time he knew he hadn’t even one scratch on him when something hard met his head and he fell down the last thing seeing Dabi’s shoes. 

Wait -Dabi. Izuku gritted his teeth, a low groan meeting his ears, irritating them until he realized it was him and gritting his teeth pulled at the cuts on his lips. Fairly fresh from the lack of proper scabs over them. He licked his lips, almost gagging at the metallic taste on his tongue. What had the fucker gotten Izuku into? A job? Ridiculous. 

Izuku knew one day Dabi would lead him into a trap of sorts. Who knew it would come so soon or at all? 

But what had Dabi meant by all of that? No hard feelings? He would be alright? He was sorry? It confused Izuku but anger built up under his skin because he had no clue what to make of it. He had no information on how to receive whatever Dabi said and put it together whenever he was right now. 

Dabi would come help him right? Would get him out of this mess. Unless he knew this was coming, knew that someone would hit him in the head, drag him god knows where and beat him up to the point even with his healing the cuts were fresh as a newborn baby. Unless they were repeatedly applied which wouldn't surprise Izuku. 

A thug seeing someone they beat up heal over in minutes to hours would just anger them more and cause them to damage their prisoner even more. Izuku was glad he hadn't been awake before this at all. 

He forced his eyes open, closing them right back when light hit them. It was coming from above him, through the upper window of the large warehouse. So cliche. He smiled to himself. Could they be any more original? Taking a deep breath he opened them again, this time looking down at the floor. His mind tried to connect the distance to the ground when he realized he seemed taller than he should be. Not the familiar, barely 165 cm, height he was accustomed to. Albeit average in Japan but with the mutations and oncoming growth spurts it felt a little on the short side. Was on the short side. 

Izuku tried to keep his mind on track, not to delve into random thoughts he had no time for and looked around. His neck let out a few nast cracks at the movement. He’d be worried he snapped his neck or something but the pain didn’t heighten so he continued looking around. Something akin to chains jostled and Izuku hummed looking at his hand finally noticing why they were so sore. He was chained up, his hands halfway up in the air, his shoulders holding pretty much all of his weight.. 

They were positioned in a way that didn’t have his arms completely straight above his head but more to the side, putting more strain on his muscles and making it far more uncomfortable than it should be. He tried to flex his legs but all he felt was a twinge of pain trailing up. He wasn’t even touching the ground. Perhaps that was a good thing. He doubted the dull throb would lessen the moment he touched the ground. 

Black spots swan in his vision for a brief moment when he snapped his head back to the window, the only thing in this whole thing that was letting in any kind of light. 

It wasn’t that bright as the night was most likely only starting to lift if Izuku had to guess but it may as well be sunset, who knew.

Izuku really hoped he would get out of this predicament soon. He had school. He couldn’t miss it. One day was already enough for his teacher to put a pretty black mark on his record. Among many other violations, he supposedly had done. 

But then again where would he go? Maybe missing wouldn’t be too bad. But Shinsou. He was supposed to meet this friend today after school at the beach. If it was today, the day he was thinking about, who knew when he had decided to finally wake up?  

Shinsou would be worried if he didn’t show up. Would he be worried as much if Izuku showed up beaten up? Shinsou didn’t show it much, but he was similar to Izuku in the way that he showed his worry through silent gestures. His hand reached out, giving side glances to Izuku whenever he slipped into his mind staying silent for minutes longer than usual. It was those small things that they shared and Izuku greatly appreciated. But he shouldn't worry about his friend like that. Izuku should get out to-

The door of the warehouse snapped open. That was to his right and Izuku had to wonder if this whole thing was just one room of the warehouse as he focused more on his surroundings, realizing that it wasn’t as big as he initially imagined. His mind was really struggling to perceive the size. 

“How the mighty have fallen,” Someone said but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. His ears strained to pick up the sound of the guy who entered and where he was, how close he was to Izuku and whenever he possessed a threat. The last one was a gamble to think he didn’t. Anything and anyone around Izuku was an immediate threat if he wanted to survive this. Or at least get out reasonably early, without going insane. It wouldn't take much, especially when he was so close to snapping. Crying or screaming was the question though. 

“Come on now don’t pass out on me,” His hair was grabbed roughly to pull his head up. Izuku felt some droll slip past his chin as he focused his gaze on the man in front of him, his bulky form shielding the barely there light. 

“Disgusting,” The man sneered, a bald head but a beard on his face. Eyes shiny green, so familiar in a way Izuku’s mom flashed before his eyes for a brief moment. It felt like a whole ass joke. He blinked at the man who smiled a glint in his eyes that wasn’t familiar in a way his mother was. The illusion was broken soon enough. 

The man turned his head to the side, humming to himself as he ran his finger down Izuku’s cheek, a sting following right after. Izuku caught a glint of something shiny and blinked when the man retracted a metal blade from the tip of his fingers. Fascinating. 

“Who are you,” Izuku rasped out. Nothing came to mind of who the person was. He’d never heard of someone like him and if the dude took a part in torturing people with a quirk like his he should have come up on Izuku's radar at least once. But apparently either it was one of his first works, or one of his first victims, Izuku wouldn’t have caught him yet. 

Or the man hid himself well enough for Izuku to miss. He wasn’t sure which one he disliked more. Being some newbie playtoy or doing so bad at a job he got himself caught by someone unfamiliar. 

“Does the great knowledgeable Yami not know?” The man smirked, letting go of his hair as Izuku's head snapped back down, drawing a deep groan from the way tingles were sent down his spine. Fuck how fucked up he was? Everything hurt, no matter what. What had they done to him? Was his healing unable to properly push through the damage to his body or was there so much damage it only prioritized stopping deadly wounds and not dealing with any muscle pain or strain? 

“I don’t bother myself with scum like you,” He mumbled, although that was very stupid of him and he should at some point start looking up everyone on the street, so as not to end up in a position like this ever again. However, what exactly could he do knowing the man's name if he was abducted without him knowing and chained up for some torture for a reason he had no idea of? The information didn’t allow him to escape things like that. 

Knowing something beforehand didn’t always give me the opportunity to evade it. 

“You little bitch,” His head snapped back as a harsh slap met his cheek. The same one where the man had drawn a new cut. It stung like a bitch, the cut burned with such intensity he had to bite his lip, pushing another point of pain to concentrate on something else so his brain wouldn’t be able to filter through it all and send signals for him to scream in response. He was barely successful when a small grunt slipped through. 

Apparently, it was enough for the man to laugh to himself and send another hit to his stomach. He snapped forward, sight blurring for a few seconds as the man drew his food back for another kick. Damn it, hits into the stomach hurt the most. He wheezed as the man kicked him in the ribs. He was glad he was hanging in the air as the impact mostly sent him swinging back and not crushing his ribs and probably puncturing a lung. 

The door snapped open again, sparing him from a third hit as he breathed out a silent thanks to whoever decided to step in and stop the man from delivering another hit. Izuku doubted he would be able to stop a yelp coming if he went through it. 

“Calm down Yoshi, he’s rilling you up, can’t you see he’s enjoying it,” Izuku tried to focus his gaze on the man but his sight failed him and he squeezed his eyes shut. If this was him enjoying this then Izuku didn’t know how they would respond if he actually laughed. 

“Don’t concern yourself with him, after all, look at his pitiful state,” The man growled out nearing them. Izuku forced his eyes open when he started to slip into nothingness again. It would do no good to black out now. Who knew what they would do to him? He raised his head, trying to clear his gaze to look at the man properly. Izuku's mind gave a twinge of recognition, barely there and slipping right away when he tried to latch on it. 

“I would keep my mouth shut if I were you boy,” The man neared them with a snarl on his face. Izuku knew him. But nothing clicked in his head to remember from where. And that was a big mistake on his part as he opened his mouth without thinking. Like always. 

“But you’re not me, so-” A palm met his cheek. What’s with people slapping him? At least it wasn’t the cut cheek. But still, he should really start to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to come out of this sane. Or well sane enough. 

“Ow,” Izuku rasped remembering that the thugs couldn’t hear his stupid debacle in his mind. If Aizawa ever heard the shit he thought of the man would send him to therapy immediately. 

The man laughed. 

“The kid has a lot of spunk left in him, give him another round,” He simply said and Izuku bit his lip. No. He didn't know what exactly it meant but the burn of his chest, the sting of his cuts and general exhaustion told him enough that it wouldn't be anything he liked. His lips trembled as he tried to say something but all he got out was a shaky breath. 

“I think Yami deserves special treatment don't you think?” He didn’t. He deserved nothing of that sort. He wasn’t special enough for anything, not even torture. 

Izuku wanted to scream and tell them not to do anything. The first guy, Yoshi, his mind supplied came closer and Izuku tried to get back but hanging in the air didn’t really allow any stable movement. He only made the chains clink the sound making Izuku's ears throb. He made a small sound, kicking out his leg, hoping to catch the thug somewhere and bring him the same pain he was making Izuku feel. 

“Hold on tight boy, this one’s gonna hurt,” Izuku bit his lip. The man drew out a long blade from his finger and pushed it into Izuku's stomach.

Izuku gasped out as the blade sank deeper, his body involuntarily twitching. If this was special treatment Izuku didn’t want it. 

The man's other hand grabbed his mouth, forcing it open as he pushed another blade into Izuku’s mouth cutting along the inside of his cheeks. Blood pooled on his tongue immediately. He spat out the liquid trying after the man let go, trying to take a proper breath but nothing came through as he choked on his own blood. The man before him laughed at him, the sound starting to come from far away. 

Izuku shook his head. He couldn't - he- the blade pushed into his side this time and Izuku screamed, or gurgled anyway. Screaming with no air in his lungs was harder than one would think. He trashed, the chains clinging, his legs kicking out trying to find anything to push against, away from the blades. They hurt, his mouth hurt, the blood too much for him to swallow as his inside bleed out and caused his body to gag and send everything in his stomach up. Bile, blood and anything else there may be. It all mixed in his throat blocking any oxygen from coming through. He couldn’t breathe. 

Stupidly enough his mind supplied how this was far less cruel than he thought the whole thing would be. At least his body ached enough to tell him it could have been far much worse. His healing kicked in full force going for his mouth first and for the first time and at one point he could rasp through the blood to get a little bit of air in. It only caused him to violently cough, body spasming, spitting blood every time he did. 

His ears rang with such intensity he couldn't hear anything around him. The guy seemed to say something but Izuku closed his eyes once his gaze unfocused and the surroundings were just blurry figures. The ringing in his ears came to a full stop and nothing.

His chest clenched and Izuku’s head snapped down, limp. Seemingly blacking out but Izuku knew better. He didn’t. 

What felt like minutes later he snapped back up taking a deep breath, another violent coughing fit passing through. His stomach barely bleed anymore and his throat was mostly clear of the liquid, the taste of metal still ever so persistent in his mouth. He had to guess it was more than a few minutes if his healing did so much. Or the need to escape had it kicking far stronger than before.  

“How was it Yami?” Painful. It was painful. Terrifying. He hated choking. The memory of sludge running down his throat was a strong reminder of how helpless he felt whenever he couldn't breathe and nothing would help him. Because he wasn’t actually drowning and couldn't swim up to breathe. Nothing he could control.  

“What do you want from me?” He tried when his ears didn’t buzz like he was falling down from a building wind rushing past. His lips trembled at the words, having to gulp down air after the short question, mind dizzy from the sudden increase of it. He was surprised he didn’t get any brain damage from any of this, lack of oxygen could do a lot. 

“I’m sure you’d know by now,” The other man smiled, who apparently hadn't left the room at all in the time Izuku was fighting the blood in his mouth. He couldn't blame himself for not noticing. But he blamed himself for not remembering the guy. He knew him. A familiar snarl of the man's lips, the way he talked. The way he held himself from what Izuku saw in brief seconds he had the liberty to see the man without black spots clouding his vision. 

“Enlighten me,” He had an inkling of what they wanted. The rumours spreading around had him here. 

The men trying to see if he died or not. 

The aches all over probably proved the point to them already and yet he was not let go. But would when they had a prominent figure of the underworld in their hands, so weak and miserable? Izuku had to laugh to himself at the cruelty of his fate. Maybe that’s what Dabi meant by saying he'll be fine. Tortured to death but fine in the end right? Dead but alive. What a cruel fate. 

“We are trying to find out if Yami can be killed,” Yoshi had the liberty to run his finger blade over Izuku’s brow to prove his point although it had been proven long ago. Izuku pulled his head away, a small unsatisfied sound leaving him. If they could just get their hands off him, it would be so much better. 

“I’m not a scientist or anything but I’m pretty sure that anyone can be killed,” Izuku bit his lip when his other brow was cut torurously slowly. That was the idea though.

“Just like All for one?” The man smirked as Izuku quieted. He had a point. They were talking about a 200-year-old legend who was a man with quirks, yes quirks plural, able to let him live forever. Izuku knew only of him through rumours and deals here and there but he had every reason to believe the man was real. No rumours started without a basis and no rumours went on for 200 years. 

“That’s one man,” He whispered. 

“And you’re another,” They all knew better. 

“In any case, it’s not like it’ll be the first time, right Yami?” The headman or whatever walked up to Izuku gently patting his cheek. He frowned, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing away the blood and anything else that had made its way out of Izuku’s mouth in the past whatever time he’d been here. 

“You poor thing,” The man commented.

Izuku took all the saliva in his mouth and gathered it on the tip of his tongue before taking a deep breath and spitting on the man in front of him. It landed with a nasty sound on the man's cheek as he reached, with the dry end of his handkerchief, gently dabbing it away. 

Izuku felt a grin pull at his lip, satisfaction rushing through his blood, despite the lack of immediate emotional response. 

“Looks like you don’t want to be let go, huh,” The man cleared his throat, throwing the handkerchief away. 

“As if you’d let me go anyway, aren’t you trying to kill me?” Izuku raised his eyebrow despite the burn that followed. Perhaps that wasn’t his best choice. 

“If that’s how you want this to go fine,” The man snapped at him, gesturing to his partner, his voice snip and filled with so much hatred Izuku shivered. He definitely had made a mistake. 

“Brand him,” His brain screeched to a hard stop, panic flooding his senses. He didn’t do well with burns. He didn’t heal well from burns. His body held so many barely there scars from every time Kacchan had been too rough on him. His healing seemed to almost refuse to work when fire or any type of explosion was involved. Who knew how bad of a scar he’d get out of a branding tool being pressed into his skin? One thing he knew though that before the scar the pain would be all he would think about. And yet he didn't do well with burns. 

“What,” He laughed. They couldn't be serious though, right? 

Why would they need to brand him? Even if he healed badly from burns the brand wouldn’t be visible enough to be seen easily. It would only be a light scar, they didn’t need a barely recognisable seal. Especially when they weren't famous in the underground. What good did they gain showing that Yami was theirs? Not like anyone would believe it. 

“You’re crazy guys,” He snorted again when the brand tool was taken out, the head man raising his hand to heat up the metal. Izuku laughed at the sight. Of course, the man would have some type of fire quirk. Of course, of course. He would. Anyone who wanted to hurt him seemed to have something similar to that. Kacchan, his father, Dabi. Everyone.

“So, crazy,” The branding tool neared him and he tried to get away jostling his hands, trying to find any leverage. Yoshi gave the branding tool to the headman, boss guy, whatever, who smiled at him as the other guy pulled the chains to lower him to the ground. The moment his feet touched the ground he scrambled back, legs giving an uncomfortable twinge but he felt his wrist loosen slightly. Wait. He could just-

“No, we’re just experimenting,” The guy commented, drawing his collar down to expose his neck and collarbones. Oh god. 

“You’re torturing a child,” Izuku shifted his wrists, eyes glancing all around the room then back to the man. He snapped to the branding tool. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a circle shape with the letters H and C. What did it stand for? Izuku had no idea. 

“Aren’t you giving excuses, you're a child destroying the empire we’re trying so hard to uphold, do you not understand Yami? You're destroying everything,” He gradually raised his voice as he spoke, the branding tool being jostled around with his anger, coming close to his skin a few times. Izuku thrashed in the hold, his wrist jostling, chains clinking. He needed more time. 

“If you kill me you’ll be in deep shit,” He screamed back. Desperation started to crawl under his skin. He needed time. But when did he ever get what he wished for?

“Here's the thing, Yami, can you die?” The man stilled, his voice calm. 

“Of course, I can,” He could. They had to believe that he could. Of course, he could die. He was just a human after all. A human with a minor healing quirk nothing more. He laughed as the man grasped his shoulder, making him stand still. His hand travelled up towards his neck, fingers ghosting over his skin as Izuku shivered. 

“Last time I checked this one proves that you can't,” His hand ran over a scar on Izuku’s neck. He realized who stood in front of him. The very man he first proved to that he couldn't die. Villain Glaze. The villain whom Izuku dug a knife into his own neck for. He laughed. Glaze knew and still had his chained up, torturing him to no end. The man, who knew of his ‘power’, had made a deal once with Izuku, and he still wanted to see Izuku die. 

“Get your hands off me,” Izuku whispered, shifting his feet, his wrists loosening with a final snap. 

“It’s all right Yami it’ll only hurt a little,” Glaze hovered the branding tool over Izuku’s collarbones. He could feel the heat of it, already making his skin twinge in pain. 

“Go away,” With trembling hands he snapped off the chains from his wrist. They had loosened and untangled, in the time they talked. By some miracle, his wrist slipped through and didn’t break like Izuku expected. He jumped back, swaying on his feet. 

“Shit why didn't you check his binding,” Glaze hissed and Izuku smiled. This was his chance. He just had to plan it out. Think. 

“He’s a kid c'mon we can take him,” Yoshi said, smirking, and Izuku had to agree. They had a better chance of taking him down. He was exhausted, he couldn’t exactly feel his legs. He was sure that if he moved too fast he would black out but the urge to get out of here was far too great. 

“You fuckers, I hate you,” He hissed, tears brimming in his eyes. “I hate you so much,” His throat caught on something as he rasped the last part out, taking a step towards the guys who stood still. Glaze still held the branding tool. He huffed, throwing it to the ground, pulling up his fist steam rising from them. 

“How much did you pay Dabi huh?” Izuku whispered. He wouldn’t be here if not for his supposed friend. He wouldn't be here, almost crying, unable to properly stand or think. He wouldn’t be wishing for once that he didn’t take up on the double identity and become someone new. If not for Dabi.

He for once wanted to be at home, living his teenage life. Going to school, getting beaten up and going home. It would be different because he wouldn't have to worry about dying. Wouldn’t have to think how to move and grab the branding tool to beat the shit out of the guys who had him screaming minutes prior. Maybe more, his time perception was wonky. 

“We didn’t pay shit,” Yoshi said. 

“Quit lying!” He roared. They had to have paid him. No way Dabi did this for free. 

“70k” Glaze took a step towards Izuku. Fuck if they attacked first he would be down for sure. 

“This little? For me? And he took it?” Izuku staggered back. But then again why would they give more if they already knew? Why would they even give anything if they knew he could die? Was it just for the fun of torturing him? Of breaking him until he couldn't take it anymore. Izuku knew if he didn’t get out here now he wouldn't survive till the morning, when the sun finally rose. Even if his body did, his mind wouldn't take it. Already on the brink, Izuku ran a shaky hand through his hair, fingers getting caught in knots that he pulled not registering the pain. Shit. He was a mess. 

“You're not worth as much as you think, kid”

“Kid, right I'm just a kid,” Izuku laughed, running his hand over his eyes as well. He drew his brows together trying to suppress a giggle. He was just a kid, right? Just a kid. Who couldn’t die? Who died? Who would die again if he didn't get out of here? Who would most likely die over and over if he didn't render these guys useless? 

“See how much of a kid I am when I beat you up,” He took a step forward. The guys laughed but Izuku flung himself forward grasping the branding toll. He yelped when he caught the hot part of the rod but switched to his other hand, the weight reminding him of the rod he had in his long not so long ago. This was weirdly familiar. 

“Like you could do-” He swung the toll catching Yoshi in the mouth. The guy roared falling to the ground and clutching his mouth. Right, the thing was still hot, he literally burned himself with it.

“Shut your mouth,” He hissed as Glaze looked at him with anger in his eyes. He lunged at Izuku, his right hand extended out, steaming and ready to put a palm-shaped scar on Izuku. Fortunately, Izuku had enough experience with people who went with the right hook first to evade it without problem even if he stumbled and crashed into a wall that was far closer than he expected. 

“Fuck I’m dizzy,” He brought his hand to his head, blinking away black spots, noticing that the guy was charging at him again. Damn it. Why did they never give up? 

He pushed himself away from the wall, crouching slightly waiting till the last second to duck under the man's swing and hit with all his might the rod against the man's back. The heat probably did nothing to the guy as he had the ability to heat things up himself but the metal was still a thing so the man screamed, gritting his teeth and turning around swinging his fist at Izuku. He caught Izuku's side, the pain and heat pushing him to the ground briefly. 

Definitely not preferable and recommended. 2 out of 10 decision in his opinion. 

Fuck he was in no condition to fight. Obviously. Was he a genius or something making such smart remarks? 

 He swung the toll at the man, letting go watching the branding part whack the man in the face. Glaze screamed, hands coming to clutch his face. 

Huh, it seemed the guy wasn't as heat-resistant as Izuku thought. Reminiscing on his and Shinsou's conversation prior about mutant type mixing with emitter it seemed the villain was of older generation not possess the quirk singularity theory attributes. He would have to mention this to Shinsou. 

Izuku got up slowly only to be knocked down by the other guy who had gotten up from his crying, his lip bleeding and very obviously burned along with half of his cheeks. But Yoshi pushed his hands around Izuku’s neck, his blades expanding and piercing his skin. 

He could almost feel blood filling up his throat again and he screamed, catching his legs against the man's hips and pushing as hard as he could. The man was flung back only slightly to make him flat on his back, but the blades had drawn long slashes on the side of his neck with the momentum. 

Izuku screamed in pain or panic he didn’t know. He grabbed the rod that had fallen by their side and hit the guy with it. Again and again. Till the man stopped screaming and thrashing on the ground. He still hit it until his neck scabbed over and he couldn’t feel the disgusting feeling of liquid going down his back. Hit him until the only one screaming was him.

He breathed or tried to, eyes snapping to the other guy who looked at him with fear in his eyes. 

“Any last words?” Izuku grinned. He could almost feel himself thinking. Almost. 

“You’re not gonna kill us right?” Glaze said with a tremble in his words, his gaze snapping back and forth between his partner who lay limp on the ground and Izuku who was hunched over, bleeding from many wounds. Once again close to passing out like it wasn’t his usual state or whatever. He gulped, grimacing and spitting out the blood that had gathered on his tongue. He hated that. 

“If you want to talk about morals here, think about it before killing me,” Izuku whispered, blinking rapidly after he straightened out. Black spots, waoh, black spots were not fun. 

Izuku was pretty sure the first guy was dead already or close to dying. Izuku did not spare his strength when hitting the guy in the head. His skull was most likely cracked. He probably broke a few ribs as well, aiming for his chest to shut the guy up or because he couldn’t aim with his shaky hands. Who could ever accuse him of his lie here? 

Maybe before, like a few weeks before, he would have slowed down enough to at least let him live. Keyword, maybe. But now he didn’t care. He just wanted to desperately go home. And that meant being brutal and insane. Izuku had no idea what had his body moving right now but if it wasn’t all the energy drinks he had drank over the past week replacing his blood then he would be thoroughly disappointed. Ha, Eraserhead would give him a flick to his forehead for this one. Maybe two. 

“But you didn’t die,” The man growled. 

“I did,” Izuku said as a matter of fact because it was true. Suprise, suprise.

“Wha-”

“The thing is,” Izuku wiped away the blood that lingered on his lips, the taste bothered him.

 “You killed me only for a brief moment, just enough for my body to heal up fast enough to be considered still living but on the edge of death bed,” He pointed to his stomach, his neck and pretty much all over his body. There was no way the guys hadn’t noticed he died. No way. 

“Do you know how interesting it is to feel your heart stop for a few minutes as a grown man makes you choke on your own blood,” That surely was an experience? Izuku at the time was begging for it to stop but now he just laughed at it. What the fuck was that? Dying? Been there, done that. God, he needed to lay down. 

“You’re probably wondering how I'm even moving right?” Izuku pressed one of his hands over his eyes. He could not stand to look at anything right now. 

“Well I,” Izuku gestured to himself with the other hand that he still held onto the rod. “For sure know, that, I have bruised ribs,” They were most likely broken before and healed but, with Yoshi’s kicks, got jostled around once more. 

“ I don’t doubt you broke a few of my bones before I was conscious, because the ache is there,” And did it hurt. He’d feel it for at least a few days. “I don't doubt I died a few times before I woke up as well, the only reason I’m moving is because I really can’t stand-” Ha stand. He was barely standing, “To be here anymore and I want to go home, so you better fucking stay still,” He dropped his hand down from his eyes, his gaze hopefully burning a hole in Glaze’s head. 

“You’re crazy,”

“I told you the same but you didn't listen,” Izuku shrugged his shoulders. He did tell them, did they listen? No. Of course not. It wasn’t his fault that he ignored the same thing targeted at him as well. 

“We’re sorry we didn’t mean it man,” Izuku raised his eyebrow. Was he serious? Glaze, as far as Izuku knew, was an influential man in the underground or used to be if all he had was just one sidekick and the ability to lose to a kid with a lack of common self-preservation instinct. How the mighty have fallen if he had to cite a guy. 

“If you're sorry then kill me for real. If you’re sorry find a way to actually kill me,” Because he was tired of living. Because he was tired of waking up chest tingling in a familiar way that meant his heart stopped and started again. He hated that and wanted everything to stop. For the world to stop turning and his body to never move again. He wanted to stop thinking for once in his life and not worry about the repercussions of his death. They were never fun. And he could never feel the same after he died. The crazy part was, him right now? Wasn’t even the repercussion, just his own sanity ebbing away, little by little. 

Izuku swung at the guy, hitting the ground beside his head. He missed. Fuck. Izuku staggered trying to stand straight but he really couldn’t.

“I’m leaving, fuck you guys,” He threw away the rod he was holding and neared the wall where the door to freedom was. He leaned against it, listening to the guy left alive shuffling to his buddy, trying to wake him up. But Izuku didn’t care, staggering out of the building. 

“Shit,” It was almost morning. The sun was up and seemed to be for at least an hour. He had been with the thugs for the majority of the night. If only that was true. He blinked at the digital clock hanging outside a shop as he slowly exited the alley. He stopped, number 5 staring at him and flickering to today's date, right after. 

It was Monday. Today was Monday. He had been with the thugs for the whole twenty-four hours. Many hours more than he originally thought. How bad had they hit him for Izuku to black out for so long? Izuku grabbed his hair trying to subdue a cry, nothing more than a choked sob, as he leaned against the wall. 

“Eraserhead, where are you,” Izukuy whispered shuffling back home when silence in his mind hit and tears dried down. He had school. 

Chapter Text

By the time Izuku reached his home his wounds had barely healed. Focusing mostly on his neck he could at least wear something huge collared without drawing attention to himself. 

The rips had scabbed over and eventually faded to a harsh pink against his skin, but nothing was an open wound exposed to the world to bleed out, so there was that. There was the last of his healing kicking over before letting his body do its own natural thing and heal at snail's pace like it had done for twelve years of his life with no problem. Pretty jarring. Izuku had gotten used to being magically okay after getting hurt but guess all quirks have their own limits. 

Apparently, his had several deaths on it before it ran out of juice. Izuku had to wonder if this was permanent or was he done forever and the next time he died he would just not wake up.

If that wasn’t a fun thought. 

The alarm clock blaring had him shuffling to the shower, hissing at the hotness of the water as he scrubbed himself clean or tried to. For all that mattered the water turned clear eventually. The blood under his nails didn’t seem to want to come out and the dye in his hair was stubborn as ever giving heavier shadows than usual. The damage to the locks was bad enough to consider a haircut if it wasn’t for the annoying length already that had Izuku reaching out for scissors but one look at the time had him putting them down. 

Whatever, not like the natural shadows in his hair wouldn’t blend in with the dyed black. No one looked at him and his hair anyway. 

By the time Izuku got home he stopped caring, mind slipping into a familiar notion of not thinking at all. About anything. It happened whenever he died, more than once in a short span of time. It wasn’t a thing he experienced often but once his mind hit a limit he shut down. Emotionally he was like an empty box. Suddenly everything made no sense and he couldn't feel anything. Physically? That was a different sorry. Shaky hands, shaky everything. Numbness of it all and the tingles making all over his body. He felt everything and nothing at the same time. 

For what’s it worth he knew that it could be stopped for a little when he died again. And that plagued Izuku’s mind, a lot. 

He didn’t want to die again but the feeling of a wish and hope that after the next one, he wouldn't wake up was strong as ever. Pushing it off to the side he could only settle down in his numbness and wait for the tingles to stop before he threw himself off a bridge and made everything worse. 

With a heavy heart, he made his way to school, his uniform fitting him wrong. He probably messed up his shirt's buttons but the blazer covered up his lack of effort in looking presentable. But who cared really? Not him. 

He had almost forgotten his bag, but he doubted he had all the right books with him anyway. He hadn't touched the bag since Friday, hadn't checked what was inside of it, far too preoccupied with other things. Like staying alive or better yet- staying sane. Though he was rather uneventful. 

Staggering to school with the belief that he would learn something today but he knew he wouldn’t when his ears still rang even after taking his alarm clock and smashing it against the table. Or just bashing it truthfully.

He didn't have the strength to cause any serious damage to the thing and he still needed it. Smacking it against a wall to see it fall to pieces would only lift a small amount of weight off his shoulders so was it really worth the money to buy a new one? No. So he had let it sit on his night table turned upside down, a psychological manoeuvre to let his mind rest. He did something to it because it was annoying even if that something was very minimal and not damaging at all. 

If he could be this logical normally then he’d be a god, but oh well, life. 

He assumed the school was very much a zero out of ten. And he wasn’t surprised when he couldn't answer even one question the teachers asked even if he knew the answer his mouth just wouldn't work. It would fall open but no sound made its way through as he stared at the desk. His classmates would call him out for being stupid and he nodded along with no energy in his bones to look afraid or anything. The teacher silenced them and Izuku zoned out staring at his desk, trying to make his hand move to write at least something down. 

There was supposed to be a midterm exam. He would need the information. 

But what was it worth? Where would he go? 

High schools weren't as accepting of quirkless kids. Not that any junior high was any better but even if he rewrote his file for having a quirk what would it give him? 

Nothing. 

His grades were awful; he had no idea what he wanted to do. Was it worth even doing anything? Trying to be a decent human being in a society that out-sorted him, called him useless and wanted him dead for being slightly different from the rest? Not that it was true anymore or anything. But why did he have to make an effort to become something, a functioning part of the society that didn’t want him? What was the point, really?

Izuku would better just not go to any high school and disappear, become Yami 24/7 and live his life trying not to get caught like this ever again. Run, work, run again. He pretended to gain friends because the ones he had couldn't be trusted. Run once more and hope to die.

Would he try to lose Erasheead? Or let the hero in? No, it would be far too dangerous. With everyone hunting him, maybe his life on the streets wouldn't be as long as he thought.

He would finish junior high, not go to high school become Yami and get captured. Yeah sounded like a plan. It would seem far too exciting to try and run away all the time. 

Maybe the prisoners had better food than he was able to afford most of the time. Although the money given by Shie Hassakai was nice he couldn't get himself to spend that much of it. It would become obvious that he got money out of nowhere, for sure the local store owners would seem suspicious and tell their police buddies to look at him. Because a kid whose mom everyone knew died looking like shit and suddenly having money? Suspicious if you had to ask him, not that anyone ever did but still. He would be discovered and sent to foster care. 

There he would be beaten up for sure. There he would be an outcast again, either for a weird quirk he had to prove that it worked or because kids would assume he was quirkles and a liar. 

No, that wasn’t a plan. He couldn't spend shit. Couldn't do shit even if he tried. Izuku rubbed his head. He had no plan for anything. 

What was he doing? Why was he trying to achieve something when he had no goal in his mind? For pity points? To have a full-on resume at the prison that he did this stuff and all. Fuck his thing helping the police was already enough of a shit show of him trying to get attention like some deprived child. He was though. He was very much deprived of love and affection but would he admit it? Of course not. So yeah, no plan, no nothing. Just a shitshow and his forever confusion. 

“Hey Deku, come with us,” Izuku had to stop his spiralling thoughts, stop the tapping of his foot and lift his head from the desk it had been resting on the whole lunch period when his classmates decided to be assholes as always. Not that he was surprised or anything, it was a normal occurrence but during lunch? That was a bit early. They would usually hold off until the end of the school day so as not to trouble the teacher with Izuku's clumsiness and make him miss the class to get looked at by the nurse. 

She never did anything as he told her he would be fine, and proved to her when the next day he came pristine clean with no bruises or anything. 

The nurse's office more often than not was just him slumping in the chair waiting for the ten to fifteen minutes to pass and go back to the classroom. 

“Why,” He asked, clearing his throat when the word caught on his tongue, making it sound raspy and unclear. Some girls laughed but he ignored them looking into the eyes of his classmates that hovered over him, their thin frames not really doing much to look menacing or anything. Compared to the thugs that night they were nothing and Izuku would prefer if they left him alone, at least for today. 

“Don't question us useless and get up,” The one with the long finger quirk kicked his desk, moving it out of the place as Izuku's arms slid across jostling him in his seat. Izuku pressed his palms flat on the surface, staring at them before shifting his gaze back up at the bullies. 

“You guys, I'm really tired. If you want to beat me up, can we do it sometime later?” He tapped his finger hoping to be really left alone today. He didn’t have the capability to deal with them and pretend to be hurt. If he lost his weak appearance in front of them that would cause more problems. His mistake of blowing up on Kacchan swimming at the back of his mind. He clearly shouldn’t have talked to him and revealed his lack of enthusiasm at being beaten up. At least Kacchan had left him mostly alone, opting to just accidentally kick the desk whenever he passed by.

“What the fuck,” The other bully frowned.

“Hey, Deku-” The long fingers tried but Izuku didn’t want to act today. He had enough of acting for tonight, today whatever. Time was confusing, his last sleep was blacking out and dying.

“Please leave me alone, I don't have the energy for you guys,” He dropped his gaze back on the desk in front of him, stopping his tapping when his hand started to shake a little bit too much for his liking. He could almost feel the rod in his hand again as he beat the guy dead over and over again. He wondered how the guys in front of him would respond if he ran at them screaming with a rod in his hand threatening to kill them. Would they be scared? 

“You think you’re better than us, nerd?” Yeah. In a way he was. 

“Please how could I ever, I am a Deku after all,” But did they need to know? No. It would just bring more problems and if he wanted them to leave him then he should stick to his persona or whatever. His third one if he had to think about it. He really was living on a pile of lies huh? 

“That's right, you’re useless so quit spewing shit and get up,” The fingers guy kicked his desk again sending it far enough forward that Izuku's hands slid off. At this point the whole class had stood silent watching and waiting for what would happen. Izuku was pretty sure he saw the teacher slip out a minute ago not wanting to deal with kids just being kids and bullying the quirkless kid because that was normal. 

“Just hit me already, why wait,” Izuku mumbled, staring down at the floor in his seat, the whole class looking at him like he grew two heads. 

“What-”

“What's the point of trying to go behind the school or something, just hit me here. Everyone knows you do this, why hide it?” It wasn't a secret to anyone that he got beat up. The whole school knew who he was, the only quirkless kid in the school. It was hard not to be known by such a name that gave him the fame and the glory of wearing a new bruise every day. 

“What's up with you fucker,” 

“I said I'm tired,” If they weren’t going to hit him he should speed this up. The lunch break was bound to end soon. 

“And if you're not gonna hit me I can do it for you guys, it’s easy,” Izuku stood up a small smile gracing his face. It wasn't that hard. The thugs did it easily enough, that Izuku could show his class. 

“See, you swing back,” Izuku lifted up his hand, “And boom!” He punched his own cheek. The pain blooming on his cheek was similar enough to the cut he’d gotten then that he had to squeeze his eye shut to push back the oncoming rush of images. He staggered back and hit the back of his knees against his chair. 

“What the fuck,” Someone had whispered but Izuku shook his head, opening his eyes and looking around not really seeing the shocked faces of his classmates. 

“What, didn't you get it?” Why?  He had done such a great punch too, didn’t they get it? How easy was it? To just swing back, aim, and punch. Punch him till he bled out behind some random dumpster or whatever, unaware that Izuku had healed anything that was overstepping the usual boundaries of school bullying and keeping his classmates off the black record. 

“You take your fist right here, like this and hit me,” He punched himself again, landing a hit on the same cheek, same spot and all.

“Boom!” He muttered as the images rushed in such an onslaught Izuku thought he might pass out. He raised his hand again ready to show once more, because why couldn't they get it? Why couldn't they see how easy it was? Other days they had no trouble dragging him behind the school and beating the shit out of it. Other days they had no trouble pushing him down the stairs in the pretense of an accident. Other days Izuku didn’t have to do anything to get kicked.

Why today thought? Why today he have to hit himself to show how easy it was? The thugs didn’t need that initiative, they knew how to do this. Why couldn't they just hit him?

“H-hey, Deku stop,” The fingers guy grabbed his hand pulling it back but Izuku wrestled it out of his hold, swaying on his feet, face splitting into a grin. Why, why were they stopping him? Didn’t they want this?

“What, don't you like it? I thought you enjoyed hurting me, what’s wrong?” He questioned, his lip wobbly. He’d thought he would cry but he just felt ecstatic. Empty, numb but so, so weirdly free. 

“Hey Bakugou do something,” He snapped his gaze to Kacchan who sat at his desk eyes wide and flickering all over Izuku. Izuku didn’t like the look on him. Kacchan should be always angry at him, not confused or shocked, Izuku wasn't worth any of those emotions. 

“Deku, calm the fuck down,” Kacchan snapped at him, his face still lacking the usual frown and that set Izuku off. Why was everyone so weird today? 

“Why Kacchan, because you said so? Because you’re better than me?” Izuku hissed, the grin falling off his lips. Why couldn’t they just hit him and shut him up? Why was it so hard? He showed him that he was very punchable. 

“No, because you’re crazy fucking hell,” 

“Oh sorry I thought this is what you wanted but guess not, I'll take my leave then,” Whatever. He grabbed his bag and staggered to the door. If they couldn't be mean to him he would go be mean to himself and hit his head against a wall or something. Maybe that would shut up the ringing in his ears for once. 

“Deku-”

“Have a nice day everyone, hope you enjoyed your usual ‘let’s beat Deku up’, performed by Deku,” Izuku slammed the door close behind him, taking a deep breath, ears straining to hear what the class had to say. 

“He’s crazy,” He couldn't agree more. Izuku ran his hand down his face laughing slightly. He wanted to jump. 

“Hey, Mido, that’s a nasty bruise,” If Shinsou had been anyone else Izuku would have turned around and left but Shinsou was his actual friend he could laugh about stupid shit and not wonder when would be the last time he’d see him. 

“Yeah I hit myself accidentally,” He shrugged. It wasn’t exactly accidental but he did hit himself so it wasn't entirely a lie either, just another piece to the pile he was already standing on. Shinsou could only stare at him as they walked down to the beach. A few hours after school should have ended, but Izuku just ended up wandering around the city instead of doing anything productive. 

“How do you- actually nevermind,” He clapped his hand on Izuku's shoulder making Izuku flinch. Izuku gave Shinsou a glance hoping he wouldn't ask and he didn't, which he was very, very thankful for. After school, he didn't know how much he could just talk before feeling like it would be too much and shut down completely or just burst into tears.

But anyway, they were here to pick up training like usual even if everything ached. Izuku couldn't decline Shinsou who really wanted to get into the U.A. Someone who deserved to be in that school. Izuku could help and he would. No matter what. 

“Let’s just do it,” He put down his bag, and shrugged down his blazer, thinking whenever he should have gone home and dressed in something more fitting for fighting but Shinsou was also in his school uniform so it didn’t matter that much. 

“Okay,” Shinsou got into a stance and Izuku zoned out. He didn’t remember much just moving on autopilot. Evading. Attacking, telling some pointers like any other day because it felt familiar enough to get lost in his empty mind. Thoughts forming but never really reaching the forefront to analyse them and think. He just did what he had to do but eventually of course he would slip. 

And of course, eventually, he would hurt someone he really cared about. It had been Izuku rushing at Shinsou who evaded him pretty well, making Izuku trip briefly, his lack of coordination today was just a bit too much for him to handle. Panic had set in and he grabbed Shinsou, throwing him, or more like pushing in a desperate attempt to push his opponent down so they would be on the same level, both figuratively and literally. For his mind to stop the panic and allow him to think of a plan to get out of the possible danger. He just didn’t account for a stray piece of glass lying in Shinsou’s path and his hand getting cut. 

“Damn it,” Shinsou groaned as Izuku tried to desperately stop the black spots in his eyes and get his breathing under control looking at his friend who was covering his hand. 

“Shit are you okay?” Izuku got up rushing to Shinsou as the boy got up nodding. 

“Yeah, just a scratch,” He showed his hand, a big slash on his palm. Just a scratch, my ass, that almost needed stitches. 

“Damn it sorry, I'm not really feeling it today,” Izuku rubbed his eyes when Shinsou went for a tissue to attempt to stop the blood. Izuku felt guilt bubbling up deep inside of him. What was he thinking about fighting after being so exhausted and clearly needing rest? But the point was he wasn’t thinking, so actions had consequences and his were always bad for the people around him. 

“Hey Mido don’t worry, we have our bad days. You look exhausted let's stop for now,” Shinsou brushed him off so easily Izuku almost broke down right there but he took a deep breath and neared the boy, lips twitching as he tried to apply pressure to the gash but the blood would just keep seeping out. Not in dangerous amounts but still enough to probably make him slightly dizzy, especially with a rapid heartbeat after fighting that would make his blood flow faster. 

“Right yeah,” Izuku bit his lip.  “Let’s go to my house, it's closer, I have bandages, that looks like it might get infected if you don't treat it,” His home was five minutes away from here. If they hurried, he could easily wrap Shinsou’s hand and disinfect it. He doubted the glass in a big trash dump would be the cleanest and safest, they couldn't have him getting an infection or anything. It would entirely be Izuku's fault and he doubted he’d be very pleased with himself.

“Nah it’s fine I’ll be alright,” Shinsou threw him a smile but it only made the guilt in his stomach rise. 

“I insist,”

“No it's fine Mido don't worry,” Shinsou tried again accidentally dropping his tissues. He cursed briefly as Izuku took another one from the packet he laid by his bag. Shinsou stayed quiet as Izuku applied pressure gently. 

“Shinsou please, let me bandage this for you,” He wiped away the blood wishing he could heal others and not just himself. “Please,”

“Alright, lead the way,” Shinsosu sighed and Izuku nodded as they gathered their stuff and set out. 

Maybe it should have hit Izuku sooner than later but it only did when they entered his house, that his home was, well, a mess. A big ass mess with clothes thrown all around the place. His analysing notebooks spread all over the living room table. His bat was in a pretty much visible place with some splotches of blood. Dishes not cleaned. At least he didn't have blood anywhere, besides his trusty weapon. That was only pure luck and his last cleaning spree came in clutch. He’d have to do another one if he wanted to have Shinosu over ever again. The way the guy's face twisted the moment they walked in said enough. 

He gently gestured for Shinsou to sit in the living room as Izuku quickly gathered his notes and stray papers from the table, putting them in a pile by the table and rushed for the first aid kit. He was back in less than a minute but Shinsou had managed to scan half of the house with his gaze. Izuku had to curse the open planning for Shinsosu's worried glance sent at him as Izuku set down the aid kit and set to work, slipping on his knees to the floor by Shinsou's side.

“Mido?” Izuku hummed, applying densification liquid to Shinsou’s wound which had stopped bleeding mostly by the time they got here. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku didn’t let his hands shake as he worked but he stilled for a brief moment looking at Shinsou out of the corner of his eye. 

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Izuku hoped he would but Shinsou was perspective and if anything he knew Izuku like the back of his hand no matter how much Izuku tried to hide. Somehow the boy seemed to read him like an open book. 

“Not really,” Shinsou shrugged jostling his hand briefly. Izuku huffed, applying ointment on the wound that would speed up the healing. He used to use that a lot when Kacchan got too rough or anyone else thought they’d beat the living day out of them. Ever since his faithful dive he hadn't opened it. 

“Then I'm not going to say anything,”

“You look like shit,” Shinsosu snorted as Izuku nodded. 

“Thanks,” He smiled. Yeah, he knew. It would be a big ass surprise if he didn’t. Really. The eighth wonder of the world if Izuku Midoriya looked presentable at least one day of his life. Never happening. 

“I mean it- has- is everything alright lately?” No. Of course not. Everything had been shit never stopping. If he could just breathe for one moment he would be very happy. But alas, he couldn’t. He looked at Shinsou, sighed and put down the bandages leaning against the table, averting his gaze. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Shinsou slid off the couch to sit beside him, wrapping his hands around his knees as Izuku crossed his legs, tapping his ankle with his fingers. 

“Of course, I don't know how much I'll help but lay it on me,” Shinsou bumped his shoulder and Izuku bumped him back unsure where to start or what to say. He couldn't say anything about Yami. It was a promise he made himself. He wouldn't do that to Shinsou. Because he knew his friend would try to help him and that could ruin him. It already did that to him and he just didn’t want to see other people losing themselves. Not like him away when he had the chance to stop it. 

“To be honest, I want to die, I- I just want to die, I can't do this anymore,” He whispered in one go, getting caught on words, shaky breath following his confession wondering if Shinsou would get up and leave. Because this was weird. It was hella weird telling someone that he wanted to die. Like who did that? Who just went on and said they wanted to die? Apparently him. 

“Sorry,” He couldn't even look at Shinsou. 

“Midoriya,”

“But like I can’t you know, I can’t so I’m stuck and I don't know what to do,”  His mind shut off and he started to ramble to get any understanding of his emotions so it would make sense why he would want to die. No one really just wanted to die out of the blue. Or maybe they did but Izuku hasn't reached that part of his life yet. Who knew maybe he’d be dying every day a few times in a row because he wanted to do it?

“Izuku,”

“I hate that I have to wake up every day and think that I'll have to do this tomorrow again and I just can't escape,” And yet he just had to give a reason otherwise nothing was valid and he couldn’t jump off the nearest building for kicks. 

“Hey, look at me,” Shinsou grabbed his shaky hands that he hadn't realized he had dug into his legs and pulled Izuku by his shoulder to look at Shinsou. Izuku stared at the teen who watched him with a gaze full of warmth. It tore something inside Izuku so hard he thought his heart stopped. 

“You'll be fine,” He simply said and Izuku gulped down everything that he wanted to say and focused on those words, wishing that one day they would be true. 

“Promise?” He whispered as Shisnosu nodded. He could only believe it. 

“Promise,” Izuku finished bandaging Shinsou’s hand even if they both knew how false that promise was, it helped Izuku hold on just a bit longer. 

“Are you angry?” Dabi had asked the moment Izuku stepped into the man's apartment after trying to bust his door down from the onslaught of his knocking. 

“It’s a silly question to ask, Dabi,” Was he angry? Of fucking course he was. But he was so tired none of that anger appeared. He was just very disappointed that someone like Dabi would betray him like this, but then again someone like Dabi would be the first person to do so. He was still angry. 

“So are you?” Dabi had the audacity to act as if nothing happened and Izuku was very much irritated by the fact because what the fuck? The guy sends him to straight death for some cash and asked if Izuku was okay. Like shit of course he was. 

The same guy who seemed to worry whenever Izuku was spiralling down a path of dark thoughts and would stop him before he tried to throw himself off the bridge. Izuku couldn’t understand how Dabi was okay with letting him go through this if the guy knew firsthand how fucked up he felt after dying. 

“I just don’t get it, why,” Izuku could only mumble, staring at the cracked floor of Dabi’s apartment that he didn’t dare to walk into further than to close the door and lean against it. What’s the point if he intended to leave anyway? 

“I thought, well assumed like some stupid newbie that you cared or whatever,” Izuku could only let a small laugh at that. Assuming things were stupid but he did stupid so often it shouldn’t have surprised him it would backfire. He just kind of hoped it would be later and maybe never. But wishful thinking never got him far. 

“Were villains Yami we don't care,” Dabi said. Of course, he would. Dabi was a person full of nonchalance and zero care for the world besides his own personal trauma that he wore like a shiny badge on his skin, quite literally and drove himself insane with it. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't something Izuku didn’t know how it felt but it also hurt Izuku because Dabi thought he could do anything because he went through trauma. Whatever. Villains were villains and yet. Izuku was hurt.

“We are friends Dabi or we used to be,” Yeah they were. Broken, beaten. Traumatised in many ways. Hurting each other here and there but they were friends. They went to do stupid shit together. Got out of even stupider shit every now and then. Just did stuff together like friends. 

“But I'm just a kid you know,” Who blindly trusted a villain. He couldn't blame himself, almost fourteen, wanting someone to latch onto. He didn't have the right judgment to think and when he had it was too late to even assume anything of that sort. Thought it would be forever. But he should have known better. 

“And kids, kids get attached,” It was a stupid thing to do and he did it anyway. And he was doing the same thing to someone else and he knew it would backfire eventually but did he try to fix it? No. Because he wanted something to be attached to feel alive. 

“Kids get attached so badly they would die for someone,” That was true. 

“And I did” Dabi cleared his throat, Izuku knew the guy was uncomfortable but fuck it. If he was angry at the guy he would speak his mind. 

He didn't dare to raise his voice either from the lack of trying or just feeling so empty no anger rushed out. He knew he was angry but trying to show it? Nah, not happening when his hands still shook in his pocket like he’d downed three energy drinks in the last hour. 

“It just so happened that you didn't take into consideration how hard it is to die knowing you'll wake up a few minutes later, again and again,” And if he was going to make Dabi uncomfortable and regret what he was doing he was going to do it to the fullest. If the guy wanted to show him the red carpet to his death a few times over a night he would be glad to tell him how it went. And how fun it was.

“I wanna die but I don't wanna wake up Dabi, because that’s not a thing for me,” He clicked his tongue, meeting Dabi's eyes for the first time.

“I know you understand,” 

“I know you care,” He laughed. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a game for Dabi to get money off Izuku as much as he could and discard him somewhere where the police could pick him up later. 

“But if this is how it's going to be,” 

“I can't be that kid who forgives,” Not this time at least. Never for something like this. 

“Because to me, this all wasn't worth it, dying without actually dying isn’t worth it,” Waking up each and every time was something that Izuku couldn’t accept as normal. Even if it was to him. Doing this for some cash that wasn't even his? No, he wouldn’t do this again. Only that he would and-

“Yami-” Izuku did not let his thoughts run off and interrupted Dabi. He didn’t want to hear him try to make it make sense and have Izuku feel guilty for feeling the way he felt. He knew he was valid and his response was valid but damn it, every time someone opened their mouth all Izuku could think of was how he was the one at fault. 

“If you feel guilty you'll leave me alone,” Just like Kacchan. 

“I don't care if you did this for money because I understand, I hate that I do, and can't blame you for doing this,” He did. Stupidly enough He didn't want to understand, but understanding didn't excuse the worth of it all. 

“But that doesn't mean it was right, although who am I kidding right or wrong doesn’t exist here,” Right or wrong was a stupid thing anyway. The moment someone stopped to think about it was the moment they died. With Izuku’s record, he’d been thinking about it far too much lately. 

“I hope you forget everything you know about me that isn't already out on the street and I hope you remember then if you get in my way- well you know” He smiled this time. If Dabi did try to get at him back though, for knowing more than he should Izuku would make him pay. 

“I may be a kid Dabi, but I’m still a villain and I know how to kill,” He didn’t intend to do anything to his former friend because he still cared about him but if he fucked up, Izuku had no qualms about picking his trusty bat and using it. 

“You don't kill,” Dabi snorted and Izuku snorted in return. Things change. 

“Happy to announce that is false, you might be just my second,” 

“Have a good night,” Izuku turned around grabbing the doorknob, pausing. 

“I had fun,”

“You’re dramatic,” Dabi said before Izuku could try to leave because some guys always had to have the last word. “As usual,” Izuku huffed. 

“Heh, what else did you expect,” Izuku turned back at Dabi who dropped on a chair near the kitchen looking at him like this was a shitty-done drama performance but a glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

“Maybe more flair?” He shrugged. 

“When I don't go to school after dying several times maybe I’ll give you flair,” Dabi clicked his tongue. 

“I bought a new couch for the money,” He said instead. A couch. Izuku had to laugh. A couch. 

“Glad to know my death was as valuable as a new couch,” Izuku didn’t know how to feel. He was amused. Maybe. His lips wobled. 

“You know you can come here any time,”

“When I don't feel like ripping your head off I'll think about it,” He gulped down tears that threatened to spill over. Shit, was he finally losing it? 

“Bye-bye dear friend, ah whatever, I hope you choke,” He slammed the door and set off to a familiar place. Rooftop, tears starting to slowly slide down his cheeks. He had to fly. 

Chapter Text

It’s miraculous how Izuku made it to the top of the building. It’s a miracle all together how he was barely crying, mind empty, just wobbly lips trying to come up with words to fill the silence. Only raspy breath and choked sobs make an appearance. His mind searched for answers in the emptiness that it drowned in. But found nothing but pleas for death. 

It was the building where he first stood to jump. The building that drove him to the life he had or well showed what he could have had. The paradise so to speak. Who was to say it was a better life but it was different and it was his. Izuku couldn't complain, it was fun. He could use his intelligence and help people as well as destroy them all the same. He had the power to change things, something he never had before. 

But then he hated all of this. The idea of being the way he was. Existing. It made his heart clench in unpleasant ways. It made his arms tremble and hoped to hold on one more day before crumbling to ashes for the wind to take him away.

What was the point? He had asked himself this so many times over the last few days. What was the point? Trying to act as something or rather someone important. Why couldn't he just give up and stop pretending to search for an answer for everything? He knew he couldn’t find one anyway. He knew he would fail if he turned his back here and went down the stairs because knowing him he would be back here in a week looking down and wondering once more. 

That’s why he had to do it now. Jump. Now or never.

Izuku hoped this would be it. This would be the last time. 

Judging from how his body was still barely healed by his quirk, it had been fully emptied. He was running on fumes, probably the crazy emotions a sign of his quirk exhaustion. But that presented a chance.

Maybe he wouldn't need more than two times to die? To overrun his quirk so he could finally pass on? Who knew maybe his quirk wouldn't be able to keep his heart beating anymore? And if Izuku failed to get back on the roof to jump again he wouldn’t stop. There were walls around him down in the alleyway.  Walls he could ram into. Break his bones. Tears his skin. Do anything that would leave him dead. To stop the buzz all around him. To stop him. 

The world would be better without him anyway. Maybe. Or maybe not. He had things to do still. Things he wanted to achieve but he couldn't. When he felt disgusting standing there feeling all the way his skin shifted, the way his joints popped. Why couldn’t the thugs finish the work for him? Why did they have to be careless enough for Izuku to escape? Why did he try to escape when he knew he’d try to kill himself after that anyway? 

Maybe he had hoped that this time it would be different. That he would be stronger and more resilient to dying. But fuck no. Of course not, he was a weakling afraid of himself and his own mind trying to fuck him up whenever he went. 

He was a weakling who went to the roof and jumped whenever something inconvenienced him and he wanted a reset. To his emotions. His mind and perception. Because every time he just fucked himself up worse and worse but he felt alive. And then he didn’t. And then it was too much and he was jumping again and again to find that freedom only to find his own hell. 

Dying was a fickle thing. 

Once it was confusing. Twice it tickled. Thrice it was frustrating. The fourth time was laughable. Fifth he slipped. Sixt- he fell. And seventh he never got up. Eight was misery. Ninth was- Izuku took a raspy breath. 

He didn't want to do this. Didn’t want to wake up and try again. He was tired of trying. He was done trying to be something or nothing. He was tired of trying to stay alive or die. Why couldn't he just exist without trying? Why was it so easy to waste away and yet he couldn't die? Always swaying between the dead and the living, always falling on one side and being thrown to the other.  

But who was he to choose his own fate when all the people around him always pushed him around and told him yes or no to certain things? Who was he to decide his own fate?

Izuku stepped over the low railing, keeping people away from doing what he was about to do. His feet barely fit on the thin ledge but he held onto the railing with his hands, gripping the steel with all of his strength, why? He didn’t know. He wanted to fall, wanted to break all of his bones on the ground below but he was afraid of doing that. Afraid that it would be the biggest mistake in his life. 

The first time had been in this position he stood at the same spot, gripping the railing very much the same. Afraid and crying and wondering if he should turn back. But then he didn’t run back and he did not have someone landing on the roof making a sound that sounded like a gentle grunt. 

“Yami?” Izuku stilled. He knew who that was. How could he not? The hero had always been around when Izuku needed him the most, except that one night. Except many many times before that. So maybe he wasn’t always around and Izuku was just clutching at those few moments that he was, getting attached the very same way he’d done to Dabi. Only to get so easily backstabbed. But Eraserhead was a hero, right? He wouldn't do that to him.  

Then again. Izuku wanted to die just here so why was he so worried about certain things like trust? Trust was a fragile thing that shattered and never got repaired and Izuku was pretty sure all the shards he tried to keep together were far thrown into the wind. Why was he bothering with trust when he was burning to let himself be carried by the same wind soon enough? 

He just had to get the hero to walk away. He didn't want him to see Izuku plummet and not get up. He couldn't do that to Aizawa. 

Izuku gulped down the sobs that threatened to spill, emotions a mess inside his mind and heart. 

Izuku had to turn around not letting go of the railing he held onto, hoping that Aizawa would leave soon enough because Izuku knew if he didn’t jump now he would come down and try to sleep off whatever this was. Hoping to feel a little better in the morning. But he had the chance now to just end it all. 

Aizawa took a weary step towards him, his hand outstretched. Izuku’s eyes snapped to the hand, heart stuttering at the tremble so apparent even in the dead of the night. 

Izuku couldn't take it, he wouldn’t take it. He shook his head, a small sob pushing out as he finally let the tears that had been gathering for weeks burst out. He shook his head again, reaching with one of his hands to wipe the tears away. Irritating his skin near the eyes, catching snot on his fingers and generally making a mess of his face. He still tried to wipe the tears away, not that it did much. 

“Come here,” Aizawa whispered, so soft and gentle, his hand outstretched for Izuku to grab. Not overbearing, not demanding, but still close enough for Izuku to reach out and grab it. He shook his head once more, unable to speak, shifting on his feet, feeling a little bit of cement crumbling down into the alleyway below his feet.

He looked at the hero hoping he would understand with just his gaze alone to leave him be. To let him plummet to the ground with no witness. Izuku stared at the hand that still trembled opening his mouth, not like this. 

“I want to die, I can't do this anymore, I can’t. I want to die,” He burst out, surprising himself and the hero in front of him who shook his head, a small curse under his breath. His lips trembled. Tongue heavy in his mouth wishing to say so much more. To let Aizawa know why.

“Yami please come here,” Aizawa stressed as Izuku panicked. No. He wouldn’t. He trembled all over, his hands clammy and slippery on the railing as he looked at Aizawa panic in his eyes. He didn't want to live. 

“No, I can't, I can't I-” He didn’t want to live. He wanted to rest. He was tired. So, so tired and he hoped the hero would understand. 

“Midoriya please,” Aizawa reached out once more and Izuku briefly wanted to grab his hand. Grasp it and pull himself out of this mess he’d created. Just for a short minute that the touch would last. He lifted his hand unsure. Would it change anything though? Would it be worth it?

“I, I-,”  He tried to speak but his foot slipped and he was falling. 

“Yami!” Aizawa’s scream echoed in his ear and he let go of the railing. He could have held onto it, he could have. But he didn't. Didn't fight for himself like Kacchan said. He was a weakling for never standing up for himself and never thinking about his own worth. 

Izuku got one second of satisfaction when he was jostled by Aizawa's capture weapon wrapping around his middle, making him hang over the side. He screamed. Screamed so loud one would think the captured weapon burned his skin. Screaming so hard his throat hurt and ached immediately. 

“No, No! Please, drop me,” He had to fall. He had to meet the ground. He couldn't be saved. Shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve that at all. 

“Please let go I have to die, please let me die,” He sobbed, screaming his throat constricting around the swell in his throat from the onslaught of tears. He screamed, thrashing in the hold as Aizawa pulled him up and back on the roof. He rolled on the ground still bound, still crying. Still screaming like he was burnt alive. 

“No, no, please just stop. Please let me die,” He sobbed as Aizawa pulled him up, sitting. Izuku couldn’t see the hero's face as his eyesight was blurred by all the tears in his eyes. He hiccuped wailing asking to be dropped back down. He couldn't stay up here. He almost had it. He almost could have been finally free. But like always something else had to keep him alive in this cruel world that didn't want him. 

“Yami,” Aizawa squeezed his shoulders as he tried to keep him still. Izuku was sobbing, crying out all the emotions, finally bursting free. Incoherent words escaped him as he sniffled and sobbed and was all gross about it. He couldn't stop. It wasn't fair how he was still alive. He should be dead by now. Should be pain-free. It couldn’t stop.

“Listen to me,” Aizawa's hands were on his face now, keeping him still and looking straight at the hero. Who wiped away the pouring tears from his cheeks, not that it helped much. They just kept falling down, more and more. But the hero tried, wiping away every new tear that fell down. 

“Kid,” Izuku shook his head trying to get out of the hero's grasp and back to the edge, back to plummeting down. The wind rushed so fast by his ears that it was silent, peaceful. But no Aizawa held him still. 

“No, I can’t,” Not anymore. “I can’t,” He bit his lips, new tears spilling from his eyes. He just wanted to breathe. 

“Problem child c’mon-” Aizawa pulled him into a hug, pressing Izuku’s face into his shoulder, arms tight around his shoulder, yet the gentle hold made Izuku’s world spin. He didn’t deserve any of this. 

“Izuku,” Aizawa whispered and Izuku’s heart stuttered. He knew. Izuku just sobbed harder. He knew and still held him. Izuku didn't have the strength to try and pretend it wasn’t him. 

“You don't have to die,” He brushed Izuku’s locks with his hand, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. Like a parent cradling their child after a bad nightmare. And this was Izuku’s nightmare and maybe he was a child being cradled even if that seemed to be so surreal. Izuku could only cry, pressing his forehead into Aizawa's shoulder. Hoping that the hero would scare away the monsters that lurked in Izuku’s mind. 

“Yami, Izuku, you'll be fine,” He wouldn't. There was no way he would be, not after everything he’d done and gotten himself into. 

“You'll be alright,” He won’t be alright. Because there was so much shit happening to him he would never get out of it without consequences. He wouldn't be able to live a full life, a normal life. Not him. He didn’t deserve any of that and no one would give him that. He was Yami, a murdered, bad person. And he was Izuku, a useless nerd who should have died a long time ago. 

“You can live,” What did it mean to live? Izuku was barely surviving. 

Aizawa gripped his shoulders, hugging him tighter when Izuky let out a heavy sob at what he said. He was getting snot and tears all over Aizawa's costume but the hero didn’t seem to care at all just holding him tighter. Izuku pulled his arms out of the captured weapon that loosely hung around him and wrapped his hands hesitantly around the hero's torso. His hesitation disappeared and he gripped as hard as he could when Aizawa pulled him close, swaying them gently. He dug his fingers into Aizawa’s back. 

“You can trust me,” He whispered and for once Izuku could believe just a little bit. Just a tiny bit before it got overwhelmed by all the doubt once more. 

“You're safe with me,” Izuku nodded. Or tried to. 

“I can’t,” Izuku shook his head instead, his chin rubbing against Aizawa's shoulder. He reached to wipe his tears away with his hand. His hand so shaky he just let it rest on Aizawa’s shoulder, fingers gripping the fabric as hard as he could. To stop the shaking. 

“You can,”

“I don’t know what to do,” He whispered, his voice cracking as he sniffled. He had no idea what to do. Where to go now? He still had his order for Shie Hassaikai that he barely laid out, and barely did anything. He still had people after him. He still had to finish school. Evade heros. Come out of this sane. Or somewhat sane. 

“That's alright,” Aizawa squeezed his shoulder gently. 

“We'll figure it out,” Izuku gulped and nodded. 

“You don’t have to die,” He bit his lip. Could he really?

“I’m sorry,” Izuku could only whisper. No doubt he knew he’d given Eraserhead another trauma to remember. A kid yelling to be dropped as they hung from a rooftop. Insanity. 

“It’s okay,” It wasn’t at all. 

“You'll be alright,”

“You're fine,”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku couldn't say anything else. 

“I’m sorry as well,” Aizawa replied and Izuku understood. 

“How’s he?” Aizawa watched Tsukauchi take off his shoes and rush to the living room with panic in his eyes. He’d be the same if he got a call that Tuskauchi had Yami or, well, Izuku sleeping in his apartment. A very unexpected development. He hadn't expected to find the boy. And even if he had the state he was in? That was shocking. His pleas. His cries. Aizawa didn’t know what had happened but nothing good and nothing that could be easily fixed. 

“He’s sleeping in the spare room,” Hizashi emerged from the kitchen holding a cup of tea that he passed to Aizawa who accepted it silently, his hand shaking the cup before he grasped it with the other. He was glad no one said anything about it.

Tsukauchi motioned for them to lead the way. Aizawa slowly put his tea down as they made their way to Izuku. 

“It’s been two hours he’s still asleep,” Hizashi continued as they neared the room to check up on him. The door creaked slightly as they piled into the room only letting the light from the hallway illuminate the room, the light barely touching the foot of the bed, where Izuku lay. His soft breaths were the only sign he was alive. 

“I think the rumours about his quirk aren’t really true,” Aizawa settled onto the chair near the desk as Tsukuchi wrote some stuff down in his notes. How the man was capable of doing any work right now, Aizawa had no idea. 

“How so?” He turned to him, his eyes bloodshot and eye bags apparent even in the dark. Right at this point the detective was running on fumes. 

“When I changed him into another hoodie to keep him from getting sick I saw bruises all over his body,” It hadn’t been a pretty sight.

“Some are very faint, some a bit more swollen. Also, there were deep marks on his neck that looked healed enough not to bleed anymore. Assuming his quirk is strong enough to bring him back from the dead this healing would either have to be very recent or his quirk was far weaker than that,” The scars he’s seen on the skin that peeked through as he'd taken off Izuku’s old hoodie had shaken him to the core. They weren't exactly gruesome but knowing that some of them looked like self-harm scars had Aizawa feeling angry at whoever drove Izuku to that point. 

Even then if the scars were light the fact that the kid possessed a quirk that could heal him no matter what the strength of it was. Meaning that the injuries formerly were severe enough for his healing not to be able to go through right away leaving a scar behind. 

“And you think it’s which one?” 

“The latter,” Though if Izuku had a quirk strong enough to keep him from dying then the things he had said on the roof troubled Aizawa even more. For now, he settled to believe what he saw and knew, not what troubled him. 

“There weren't any blood stains on the hoodie from his neck to have gotten those wounds tonight and the bruises were closely healed, so most likely his quirk is relatively slow at healing. He had a faint bruise on his cheek but now it’s gone,” Aizawa pointed to Izuku’s cheek. It had been a pretty small bruise, a giant orange-brown colour meaning it was in the last stages of healing. By the time he’d gotten home, the bruise disappeared. 

“I see,” Tsukauchi nodded, humming to himself. 

“So you confirmed it’s Izuku and Yami all the same?”

“Technically,” Aizawa sighed. He hadn’t gotten a proper response from him to say he had, but the lack of objection was telling if he had to go by that.

“Technically?” Tsukauchi raised his eyebrow at him, eyes flickering to Hizashi who stood by the door. 

“He didn’t deny it but didn’t confirm either,” But who was he to say that Izuku was in his right mind to say anything coherent or even pay attention to the name change? The kid had been sobbing in his arms begging to be let go so he could fall to the ground below. Who was he to judge what the kid said or didn’t when Izuku was barely keeping himself together on that rooftop? 

“What Shota is trying to say is that we don’t know,” Hizashi slid his arm around Aizawa's shoulder, his soft step the only sound as he walked over to them. Easing the tension that had risen. He relaxed into his husband's hold, glancing at him briefly and a small smile greeting him. He smiled back or tried to, mind far too plagued by the happenings of the last few hours. He knew he’d find the kid at some point but this wasn’t how he imagined it at all. Traumatic was one way to say it.

Tsukauchi sighed, shaking his head. Aizawa could see the small tremble in the man's hands. He couldn't be mad at the detective who was only doing his job. They were all worried. 

“We will have to ask when he wakes up,” 

“Right,” He really hoped they’d know what to do by the time the kid woke up. Having a criminal in your house was a questionable decision. But Aizawa couldn't have left him back on the rooftop. Not when the kid had fallen asleep so easily after crying his heart out. 

“Come on guys, let's get out of here, I'm sure we’re gonna wake him up if you two get any louder,” Hizashi pulled the three of them out of the room, closing the door to the bedroom silently. 

“What are we going to do with him?” They settled down on the couch in the living room, silence overcoming them slowly. 

What could they do? The kid was a loose cannon operating in ways they had no understanding of. He was unpredictable both as Izuku and Yami, if it was him, but the room for doubt was very minimal so Aizawa didn't dwell on the lack of confirmation. They had far bigger issues to attend to. How would they save the kid from the world-destroying himself? 

“Find a loophole,” 

“Aizawa?”

“He can't go to jail,” Aizawa wouldn't let him. Izuku was too unstable for that, too broken to be able to make it through prison for God knows how long he would be put in there to come out sane. The time there would just destroy the kid more than he already was breaking apart. And even if he wasn’t sentenced, any connection to the past would have him unable to live a fulfilling life the way he should be. 

“Aizawa as much as I understand your personal feelings and I do not wish jail time for this boy, the government is-”

“He screamed at me to let him fall off a building when I caught him,” Aizawa hissed, stunning everyone into silence. 

“He's in no state to be anywhere but in a safe environment,” Selfishly Aizawa wanted to say to him and with Hizashi. If that was possible he would take care of the boy and pull him out of whatever hole he’d fallen into, because he cared for Izuku his heart ached not to do anything and let him wither away. Hizashi had expressed the same concern, believing that they could be good for the kid. And they could be something with the little license they have gotten a few years back just in case. 

“And that is?” Tsukauchi raised his eyebrow. Aizawa wanted to tell me that my words got stuck in his throat. Hizashi squeezed his hand. 

“Aizawa,” Tsukauchi could only rub his brow and Aizawa saw the way he was giving up on arguing. He may be a detective but he cared about Izuku just as much as they did. He was one the head of research for Yami after all. And finding all the information out even if he’d seen the boy only a few times in these two years he had gotten just as attached to the boy as Aizawa had. 

And on the other hand, all of them were far too exhausted to argue about anything. They knew there were too many details with this situation they’d been put in, to carefully decide anything tonight. And it’s not like the detective could operate behind his boss's back. Not like they could keep quiet about this. They would have to hurry up if they wanted things to work out in their favour. 

“Fine, I'll try to see what we can do,”

“We?”

“Yes, Yagi is helping me with the research,” Ah, Toshinori Yagi, the scrawny man at Tsukachis office. His supposed friend. Aizawa didn’t fully trust him but he had gotten them to make a connection that led to finding out that Yami and Izuku were the same kid. So he had to trust his opinion and knowledge.

“That's good to hear that you’ve got a helping hand,” Hizashi noded by his side and he was right even if Aizawa didn’t trust Yagi, not one bit Tsuakuchi had been running ragged the past few weeks he would need someone to assist him. 

“Indeed Yamada, this kid, gives me too much paperwork,” A small laugh passed between them when a loud crashing sound resonated through the room. They quickly jumped to their feet, ears straining for anything else. 

“What is that?” Hizahsi hissed and his eyes narrowed. 

“Sounded like a crash,” Tsukauchi mumbled when Aizawa heard another smaller crash and sped off to the room Izuku was sleeping in

“It came from the room he’s sleeping-” Hizashi trailed off after he ran off. 

“Shota wait,” He hissed but Aizawa was already ripping the door open only to see an empty bed, a nightstand on the ground along a vase, a piece of broken from the fall. The window was open, and the wind blew in, catching the curtains with it. 

“He's gone,” He sagged against the door, unsure if he was really seeing this. Izuku had escaped. Izuku had left and that worried Aizawa. 

“What?”

“He's gone, the window,” He mumbled as Hizashi gasped. 

“We're on the third floor,” Aizawa nodded. There was no fire escape by their window, not even remotely close to jump to. He neared the window peeking out, no sign of the kid, no sign of anything happening outside. Just silent as the city slept and a kid ran home. 

“It'll be alright shota, we'll find him,” Hizahsi pressed to his side, Aizawa nodded, a lone tear running down his cheek. If that wasn’t the last thing they’d do. 

Izuku shuffled into his apartment dragging his broken leg from a bad landing, He felt bad for running away, but he couldn't stay. Not like this. 

He sniffled, hands clenched around the hoodie that Aizawa had given him hoping the remnants of its warmth would pull him through the night. Hoping that Aizawa had meant everything he said on the roof. 

Chapter Text

It was well over a week when Izuku made his way to the familiar rooftop, wind howling in his ears as he sat down on the same spot he’d been so desperately clinging to the last time he was here. 

It was hard to be there. Hard to acknowledge the fact that he had tried to end his life with the knowledge that it would be probably his last try to be free. Or think he could be free because what was freedom? What it meant to be free and young and void of any responsibilities. At what point he would have to succumb to madness to taste freedom? He had no clue. And that sat heavy on his heart. 

With every movement, with every shift of his body, his mind and body ached. His mind ran wild with the thoughts of what could have been if not for him . For Eraserhead -the hero who pulled him back and told him no when so many people didn’t even care to look. 

It had been a hard week and some to get back to his normal if he could call it that realistically, mindset. He was not okay by all means. Never could be if he continued the way he did for the past months. Who knew when he’d snap again like this? Who knew if Aizawa would be there then too? Who knew anything at this point? 

But the point was that his hands didn’t shake as much anymore, and he didn’t feel the need to show his classmates how to punch himself. They already took the opportunity to remind him why he shouldn’t show them up like that. But it was fine. It didn't bother him then and now as he sat there, feet swinging over the edge. It didn’t bother him that much anymore. Maybe it should have been another red flag he missed but at this point, he would take anything that resembled sanity.

For once he had a clear enough mind to breathe out and not feel the tremor of his shoulders or the swell of emotions so tight in his throat he couldn’t breathe. There was no panic, just weird peace that took hold of him and didn’t let go.  

And perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe he was healing. Having slept away the two days right after bailing on Eraserhead and the company he had in his house based on the voices. Izuku didn't have the time to put two and two together to recognize. Having gone to school right after his impromptu ‘break’ and just taking a breather from being a vigilante, a villain, a different person that wasn't really him, Izuku maybe, just that little maybe, was healing. Or just pushing everything aside till the next break. Whichever it was. 

It was better than nothing, though. Better than his own screams echoing in his dreams, better than anything he’d felt over the last week.  

He could at least look at himself in the mirror and see himself actually, not some different person who he didn't recognize. He could be himself to some point and that he was forever grateful for. 

Which is why he decided to come back here.

For two reasons.

One to understand himself in whatever way he could in whatever way the night would allow him, bundled up in the hoodie that he had adored since Aizawa put it on him. A moment he did not remember but that was fine. 

The second reason is one that he tried to hate. He wanted to see Aizawa again. Wanted to see the hero and thank him. Was thanking him an option or should he be saying sorry for breaking down like he did? He had really been out of it, forgetting major bits of that night. Of, well, the weeks before that as well, running on autopilot and hoping he would land home. He did in the end. So there was that. 

But he waited for Aizawa because he knew his patrol schedule and route by heart. And maybe then, even if it was the spot he first tried to hurl himself off, maybe he would be there to save him. To catch him. 

It was a bit, a lot, selfish of him to put such a burden on someone. To hope they would be there for him whenever. Especially if Izuku could barely trust the hero. Could barely sit there and not want to go back to his own apartment and hide. Forgetting that Aizawa knew where he lived and would eventually visit in hopes of trying to see if Izuu was alive. Despite all the progress he still didn’t exactly want to be alive. It was a slow process and who knew if he’d even complete it. 

So it’s really a game of how much Izuku could take and how much he would hear before snapping, as the hero arrived gently landing on the roof. 

“What are you doing here?” And as he thought it didn't take long for the man himself to appear. His voice gruff but holding that gentleness and worry that Izuku wouldn’t have associated with the hero ever before but people show a lot of themselves in situations like those. When Izuku desperately wanted to close his eyes and never open them again. 

“I was under the impression that you’d want to be sure I’m not dead or something after I, uh- ran away,” Izuku could only chuckle, turning his gaze to look at the hero, catching his eyes and the way it flickered all over Izuku and to the edge Izuku so easily sat on. 

He pulled his feet up and scooted away from it. He disliked the way the man had to worry about that once again. Izuku wasn’t like that anymore. For now at least. Who knew what would happen with his luck? At this point, if he’d end up here in another week he wouldn’t be surprised. But he was here and now and not in another week, here and now and worrying Aizawa would be stupid. 

“What do I do with you,” Aizawa shook his head, walking over and settling down by Izuku's side, their shoulders pressed close, giving that sense of comfort Izuku realized over the past few days he desperately needed and missed. 

“Realistically, as I see it, leave me alone, but-” He had to pause because realistically he wanted to do nothing with the hero. Wanted to be Yami and be done with it. Give Shie Hassaikai information, lose Giran and just continue to scramble around the underground in hopes of never getting caught. But- but he, he just couldn't. After getting a taste of comfort, of that warmth of being held, he just couldn’t. 

It may be weird in many ways. Got damn it, Aizawa was a hero. He had the duty to help people and maybe Izuku was getting attached in all the wrong ways possible but if he had something to attach himself to, then Aizawa couldn't exactly push him away. At least that Izuku was certain about. What he tricked his mind into believing. 

“But?” And it seems like the man knew it. Understood it, him , right away. Could read Izuku like an open book. Something that shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. Especially when people saw the real him and still stayed around. It was a surprise like no other. He had to wonder if Shinsou would ever be put into that position, and if would he stay. But that was hours of thinking and coming up with the worst scenarios for another night. 

“I don’t really want that,” Izuku had to bite his lip to keep the tears away when Aizawa wrapped his arm around Izuku’s shoulder. It was warm. 

“How are you, kid?” Izuku couldn’t hide the wince. He was okay. Really great if he had to compare but the scale was well below the ground that he had to wince.  

“That’s such a great question after what I tried to do,” He laughed earning a sigh from the hero. Alright justified, he deserved that. He deserved the look Aizawa gave him that was full of ‘what the hell kid’ energy, that only a man used to dealing with kids like him could give. 

“I forgot you got the sass to fuel the whole city,” Izuku smiled. Of course, he was a teenager with no supervision, nothing else could be expected of him. Surviving in this world without sarcasm, sass and jokes was like trying to eat ice cream in hell. Impossible. Or maybe possible but it didn’t last long. The ice cream would melt fast, meaning someone who went stone-faced and with no humour under their belt would be dead the next day. Unless they had the money and influence which was entirely another story.  

“You’re right, you’re right,” Izuku snorted, feeling Aizawa squeeze his shoulder. Izuku leaned into the hero in return, closing his eyes briefly. Burrowing his face into the hoodie, that was too big for him and the hero most likely noticed it was his as he took a deep breath. 

“I’m feeling better by the way, or I think I am,” He was healing. That was that. He was better than then and that was enough. 

“And ‘better’ is?” Izuku opened his eyes. Better? Better was an interesting concept. 

“I don’t want to hurl myself off a building?” And there he went being the little shit he was. Not the best choice of words but really if he could explain it better he would. Not being able to properly remember the past few weeks did a lot to him and in a sense being able to even go out and not think of a hundred ways to off him was a success in itself. Not that he completely shut down those thoughts. That was a long way to go and who knew if Izuku would ever get rid of those whispers, but it was better. Even if the better sounded like one step forward three steps back. Any direction he went in was unpredictable anyway. 

“Izuku,” He hoped the hero would understand that part of him as well. 

“Now don’t give me that judgmental tone and better answer my question. How did you know?” Deciding to jump away from the whole ‘how was he feeling’ thing and change the subject. Izuku stood up, wandering around the rooftop. Perhaps to clear his mind or let the rhythmic footsteps drive away the voices that never left his mind.  

He flicked his gaze to the hero. “How did you find out I’m Yami, or Izuku whichever way it was,” That was something Izuku wanted to talk about. 

It was obvious Aizawa knew he was Yami, Yami was Izuku. It was something that struck him deep down that he knew and still proceeded to save him. He didn’t really deserve any of that, especially after what he had done. Especially when he was a wanted criminal and for sure Aizawa was piling up a big ass case against him. 

He didn’t really get why the hero was helping him here or interacting with him at all. Like okay, he was a kid but he was still a criminal, a murderer if you will. He shouldn’t be saved.  

Izuku looked at the hero with countless questions in his eyes. He wanted to know but was afraid to ask. His mind betrayed him by making up answers of Aizawa just getting closer to him to get him faster in the prison. Which could be a big possibility but Izuku pushed those thoughts down and tried to trust the hero. Tried not to choke up on his muddled thoughts that made Aizawa nothing but an enemy in his mind. 

“Accidental connection,” He has to wonder if he ever slipped up so much that the hero made a connection in a span of seconds. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did because Izuku wasn't paying attention to all of that much when other things were occupying his mind at all times. Honestly, Eraserhead being exposed to both sides of Izuku was something he pushed in the second place of his worries. Which he shouldn’t have but he did and now he had a price to pay with consequences he wasn’t sure of yet. 

“Did I out myself or-?” The hero stood up shaking his head. 

“No, just accidental connection,”

“I see,” He nodded. Whatever the connections it was enough to give him away. Whatever the connection was, Izuku wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He knew that would come up eventually but maybe he wanted to differentiate those two sides for a little while longer. Wanted to be just Izuku in the hero's eyes, just a kid wandering around the rooftops and drinking energy drinks at god knows what hour. It felt like a dream. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled, finally stopping in the middle of the roof, toeing a small hole in the cement he stared at the ground below. 

He didn’t deserve any of this. Didn’t deserve to stand here and not be dragged right to the police station like the shitty villain he was. He couldn't understand, why was Aizawa letting him go Scott free when he’d done so much bad. When he’d endangered so many people's lives. When he’d killed someone. When he’d caused chaos and broken so many laws and rules and even if he didn't outright break the quirk law he was still held accountable for things he couldn’t be excused for despite his age. 

He didn't understand what he was doing there standing so free and mighty when he should have been six feet underground long ago. 

“Are you hungry?” Aizawa asked, unaware of the turmoil deep inside Izuku’s mind. And right as he believed that hero was doing nothing to apprehend him. Nothing to make it obvious Izuku fucked up at some point. 

Izuku looked up at the hero who had leaned against the door that led down inside the building watching him with tired eyes. Just watching him. Izuku had to tear his gaze away. He was hungry. And yet. Did he deserve any of this? He had no answer for that. 

“If I say no-” Aizawa was quick to silence him with a click of his tongue. 

“No, get down, we're getting food in you,” The hero gestured for him to get through the door he had apparently opened, staring him down like a disappointed parent. Izuku cracked a brief smile. This was a weird image. Aizawa as a parent. The hero didn't fit the idea but who knew?

“Okay okay, I feel like a child,” He felt like he’d been scolded by his parents for being home late or something. Dealing with bad grades or maybe just simply not doing his chores. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Despite his mother being here not even 2 years ago she’d never make it obvious that he’d done something wrong. Maybe it’s because Izuku went out of his way to hide his faults as much as he could. Maybe she just didn’t care or try to make it a big deal. Whichever it was, it still made it unfamiliar for Izuku. 

“You are one,” Izuku had to pause on the stairs, Aizawa stopping behind him. 

“Huh, I guess I am,” He mumbled. He was a kid. Sometimes Izuku forgot about it in relation to what he felt, his emotions and the situation he was in. 

“Izuku,” Aizawa placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“Yeah?” If he could feel something for the rest of his life it would be that. Aizawa’s gentle hand and his voice reminded him that there was someone by his side after all. That he was not alone in this. 

“Whatever is going on, know that I’m behind your back ready to help,” Alas. The world was cruel and Izuku had to step a stair down to escape Aizawa’s hold and turn around a small smile on his life. 

“I wish it was that easy,” If he could just explain what was happening in his life. If he could just tell Aizawa what troubled him. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t when he had no idea if he could really trust the hero or if it was a ploy. And even then if he had the chance to talk who was he to say that the hero could do anything in his situation? There was no way he would get out of this without a few years in prison. 

And if the police investigated depered they would find more and more crimes under his name. Heck, the Shie Hassaikai deal could get him in prison for fifteen years minimum. Maybe worse. Maybe Tartarus. 

“Because honestly by now I thought I'd be dead, and I'm running on fumes and if you asked me what was the problem I wouldn't be able to tell you much,” It was hard to admit but that was the truth. He doubted the hero could do anything. Aizawa still slipped his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He was there regardless. 

The plan was set in motion or first mentioned, a few days after Aizawa had let Izuku go home on his own. The eyes lingered on the boy and how he swayed with the wind so frail and ready to break into pieces. It had been a rough night and Aizawa was not scared to admit tears gathered up in his eyes and his heart dropped the moment he got back home. 

He didn’t really have a plan to help Izuku when the kid was still so reluctant to speak, so reluctant to ask for help. His smiles were so broken, so wistful but full of fear. He didn’t really have any idea how to get to him until Tsukauchi let out another large sigh as Aizawa filled in his daily report of the villains had apprehended that night. 

“Aizawa, could you pass the coffee,” The man had dropped his pen, eyes closing shut. The stacks of paperwork on his desk never really ceased in the last weeks or perhaps months. Aizawa felt bad for the man. 

“What’s giving you a headache this time,” He dropped a full cup of coffee, gathering one for himself, feeling the hint of tiredness crawl through his body. He had too much stuff to do to allow himself a nap, for now. 

“Trigger,” Aizawa raised his eyebrow. He had been fully expected to hear Izuku’s name. The kid caused trouble as much as he could. Who knew if it was intentional but if Tsukauchi didn’t get at least a few sightings of Yami a week it was an uneventful one. In his humble opinion that was. 

“Surprising,” Aizawa mumbled into his cup. 

“There has been a rise in the production and a lot of it,” Aizawa nodded. He had to agree. When he wasn’t chasing after Izuku trying to understand the kid he had noticed the sudden rise of talk among the thugs he captured on the daily. It wasn’t anything new that came out of their mouths but maybe the sheer amount. 

“More sightings of the drug in the last two weeks than in the previous three months, alarmingly lot, something big is brewing,” Tsukauchi passed a sheet of paper to Aizawa that he briefly skimmed over. The numbers were astounding. The rise of the drug had been very much apparent in Hosu among other places that screamed red flags. He frowned. Trigger was an addictive drug especially among youth, calling back to what Izuku mentioned about quirk evolution it shouldn't be surprising that the number of drug usage had risen. If the effects were poor the demand would rise. If the demand was not met a war would break out. 

“Any information?” He pushed the sheet back to Tsukauchi who attached it to another stack filled with numbers on numbers. 

“Nothing, zero idea what the fuck is happening,” He leaned in his chair, the seat creaking with age and usage.

“Great,” Of course they wouldn't know anything about it. Trigger and drug dealing was a fickle thing with normal circumstances. But when something big was seemingly brewing every little detail mattered but of course, they would be in that position where they would have nothing. Aizawa shouldn’t have been surprised about any of that but somehow he thought that at least with this they would have more luck. Aizawa wasn't one for specific detective work but he came to help whenever he could. 

“Insiders say the underground has no idea what is going on either, just that there’s a weird shift in regard to information ergo Yami, among other suppliers,” Tsukauchi winced at the look Aizawa gave him. 

“Wherever we look he’s always there,” The kid could not stay away from trouble or any danger it seemed. 

“He’s a well-known figure, we all know this, the kid has far more influence than I think he realizes,” Was the kid aware? Of course. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t have survived for so long. No one naive or oblivious would or could for that matter. 

“No I think he knows it, whenever he uses it to his advantage is another question,” Izuku was well aware of his capabilities but whenever he used them to his fullest was something Aizawa didn’t know. He hadn’t exactly seen the kid in action besides that one time on the roof he analysed the gang like nothing. He hadn’t had a chance to observe Izuku's work, which now he realized was something he wanted to see. Without any danger involved, that is. If that was possible at all. 

“If he wanted he could easily destroy the whole underground. Surprised he hasn’t already,” Tsukauchi chuckled and Aizawa shook his head at the idea. Izuku could if he wanted to. He was smart enough for that, which in a way was frightening. The kid needed guidance if not, who knew what the world would turn into? Either he’d go down with a legacy to be talked about for years and years to come or there would be no world to remember him. 

“If we think back to it when he still tipped the police about Trigger supplies he was on his way to,” If what he talked about was anything to go by the kid had big plans but things probably got in the way. And not the nicest things. Whether that was for better or worse was yet to be determined. 

“Trigger,” Tsukauchi paused, Aizawa lifted his head to look at the detective who widened his eyes as if he figured something out. “Aizawa- Trigger,” He snapped his eyes to him. 

“Yami used to tip us about Trigger for the police to comprehend the gangs recently pushed into the business, what changed for him to drop it?” He rushed out. 

“A breakdown?” Aizawa raised his eyebrow not liking where Tsukauchi was going with this. 

“No,” The detective shook his head. Aizawa knew he was wrong but he hoped that what Tuskauchi had figured out wasn’t the same thing Aizawa imagined. He didn’t want to put an even bigger burden on the kid. His shoulders hung far too low for a kid his age as it was. 

“He knows something we don’t,” Aizawa sighed. Izuku knew a lot, that was certain. Figuring out what he knew that they didn’t? That was something hard to truly know. 

“Exactly,” And thus a plan was set in motion, a plan Aizawa wasn’t keen on. He didn’t want to go the route they chose. It was like trying to walk on a rope. Unstable. They could fall any moment and break Izuku’s trust, which was already barely there. Trust Aizawa only just managed to start building. The weeks prior couldn’t be counted when they weren’t true to each other to find a foundation to build. 

“It’s possible he figured something out or gained information he shouldn’t have and now tipping the police about Trigger would be too risky because of the position he was in,” That Aizawa could agree on. If his way of talking and behaviour was to be analysed it was obvious that something was very much wrong. Something Izuku didn’t know how to deal with.

“I don't know Tsukauchi,” In the end that’s all Aizawa could say. He didn’t know Izuku enough to really have a say in this. He had no idea of his life besides what they knew of in regard to his criminal activity. Sure he had met his friend Shinsou two times. He’d seen the teen be just himself, Izuku wandering the city at night and living the life. But that gave him nothing. Nothing to latch onto to figure out how to help him. And maybe that was his push to accept Tsukaushi's idea in the end. 

“He has to know something, and if he gives information it will benefit him greatly,”

“What are you hinting at?” Aizawa raised his eyebrow at the detective. Did he have something in mind? Something that could help Izuku? If so, Aizawa was all ears. 

“Reduced sentence if anything,” Tsukauchi gave a forced smile. “I've been digging up the laws recently and he’s not in that bad of a position for now,” Tsukauchi tapped his pen on the table. 

”For now,” Aizawa deadpanned. 

“I’m afraid his unpredictability may land him in the worst spot possible,” Izuku’s lack of coherent movement across the underground was a thing to note in the sense that he could potentially make his situation all that worse in no time. If it wasn’t that bad already, despite what Tsukauchi said he somehow couldn’t believe Izuku was in the best position possible currently. 

“Meaning it’s prison hundred per cent,” Meaning that he would fail the kid. Meaning the silent promises he had given to Izuku would be broken in an instant. 

“It’s the hands of HPSC,” Even worse. 

“Damn it,” Aizawa hoped that whatever they came up with, whatever Tsukauchi dug up would help enough to spare him from the greedy humans sitting atop the food chain and controlling the world at this point.  “And if his quirk can be boosted god knows what they’d do to him,” 

“Exactly,” Aizawa preferred not to think about the implications. Preferred not to think about the sheer idea of Izuku being unable to die with his mental state as of now. He’d be broken. Even more than he already was. Aizawa could not fail the boy. He was far too attached to even think about failure. 

“It has come to my attention that you were rather unsuccessful in your mission,” The man was pushed to the ground, his knees digging into the tiled floor. 

“Please you have to understand he is crazy,” The man lifted his head, pleading. 

“I don’t care about the details, your funding will be cut off as you failed with a simple task of killing a kid,” The man's eyes widened as he shook his head, tears gathering up in the corner of his eyes. 

“He can’t die okay! He can’t die, we killed him multiple times but he just can’t die,” The man- more known as Glaze wailed. The kid just didn’t die. 

“Can’t die you say, so the rumours are true after all,” He nodded as the woman in front of him hummed to herself and sat on her chair in front of a big table. 

“We told you from the start that the idea was stupid it would do no good,” Glaze said but regretted it the moment the woman's eyes narrowed as he motioned for the guards by his side to pull him up. 

“Are you calling us idiots?” She growled and Glaze palled. He had fucked up.

“I- no, just, if you want to get your hands on him why just not arrest him?” Glaze tried. If they could just arrest him they wouldn’t have to go through the whole mess of trying to kill a kid. A kid who could not die for that matter and if pushed far enough would kill himself. 

“Police are incompetent in that regard, plus that annoying hero and his detective buddy have their eyes set on the boy,” The woman sighed leaning into her chair. 

“But you’re-” Glaze tried but the woman flicked her wrist and Glaze was shut up instantly. 

“Don't question our methods, get out of here we have no use for you,” The guards started to drag him out of the room and he knew that would be the end of him so he shouted the first thing he could think of. He would not let Yami destroy him twice. 

“What about the Trigger deals?” The woman stared at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Those don’t concern you,”

“You do know Yami is invested in the drug dealing world,” He whispered. He had recently found out that Yami had taken a big deal. A possibility if you will. For others, not him. “If you bait him properly he will come prancing himself,” They could easily lure the villain in their own hands. No need for the cruel ways of trying to kill the kid. Although Glaze wasn’t above that. 

The woman smirked to herself motioning for the guard to drop him back on the tiled floor. 

“Tell me Glaze what do you know about Shie Hassaikai?” Glaze gulped. Perhaps he had fucked up here. 

Chapter Text

Izuku had wondered why he had even tried to get into encrypted files when he knew his skills weren’t on par with the countless firewalls. But he still had a small hope that he’d bypass them somehow - alas that didn’t seem to be the case. 

This is why he had spent the last three days studying hacking and coding, in general, to get his skill up a notch, in false hope of success. It's not like it’d do much to help him because no matter how hard he learned no one suddenly got better in three days, especially not him. He spent half of those days at school trying to keep his normal civilian appearance normal. The other half was spent learning;  of course, worrying about everything in the back of his head didn’t fall back into the background. In the end stunning his ability to absorb the information as he usually would. Backfiring on his progress but what did he expect?  

Hence the three days didn’t do much for him to get past those encryptions. 

Sure he got deeper, pushed his nose into stuff he totally shouldn't have but oh well he was Izuku Midoriya- Yami-  and he did what he wanted. Period. 

If that thing was trying to unlock some police files no one had the right to judge him. Usually, he had no trouble with them but as of late getting any kind of information from scripted files or even simple online forums had been hard. Almost like someone had been blocking his access to anything. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. And yet he had no idea who it was. It wouldn’t have been a problem for so long if he had a name behind these endeavours. 

He didn’t think it was Eraserhead, his mind jumping to all the possibilities immediately, as soon as the first, seemingly simple firewall, showed error and his computer shut down on its own. 

Eraserhead was the only person who knew where he lived though. Highly beneficial to the hero but alarming to Izuku if he cared about his safety. He knew if the man wanted to stop him from doing his ‘vigilante slash villain thing’ the man would’ve shoved up at his door and dragged him out by his thirteen hoodie. He had many chances before to do so but hadn't so Izuku had to trust the man to some extent. Besides all the emotional baggage they seemed to share. 

Eraserhead was crossed off the list as soon as he got in there. But that did not cross him from the imaginary list of things Izuku should eventually deal with. First place and written multiple times Eraserhead's name sounded off in Izuku’s head multiple times a day reminding him that he should probably do something about the six-foot man following him. Stalking? Would that be appropriate?

Eraserhead was weird, to be honest. 

The man, Aizawa, had so many chances to get Izuku to spill his secrets to get Izuku to talk. Drag him to the station if he so wished. Probably did at least before Izuku decided to have a whole ass breakdown in man’s arms.  So, so many chances that he never took even if they were glaringly obvious to both of them. Which led him to a point of not knowing what to do with that list just getting longer each day as another reminder about Aizawa appeared.  

Perhaps that was Aizawa's way of showing that Izuku could trust him. Maybe it was his way out and if he didn't want something it wouldn't happen. Aizawa was giving him a choice. A foreign concept to Izuku and it only freaked him out more.  

Izuku had to wonder if he told the man to leave him alone fully would he? Would Aizawa leave a broken kid to deal with his stuff himself? That wasn’t an answer Izuku wanted to know because honestly dealing with emotions and all the baggage that came with them was not in Izuku’s plans any time soon. 

Yes, he pointedly ignored his list every day. No, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Yes, it would backfire eventually. No, he didn’t look forward to it. Izuku didn’t care about it enough to go through his problems right now with the intention of pushing through all of them and not breaking down somewhere in the middle. 

Eraserhead seeing him cry and scream like that was enough of an opening-up experience for his taste. 

Especially with someone notorious for being a ‘blank face of no emotions, please stop crying child’ person. So, yeah, no, it was not happening any time soon or ever. The little slip-ups if he could call them that was enough to drive him insane as it was. He didn’t want to acknowledge the need for a lifelong commitment to Sunday therapy.  

All in all, they had too much stuff, or well he , especially so, had too much to sort through. He had no qualms about leaving it all alone and doing stuff that just added to those problems. 

But that didn’t bother Izuku or he made it seem like it didn’t. Because he was a pro at pushing everything to the back of his mind and pretending it wasn’t a thing until he was literally begging to die and jumping off roofs. A hard yikes and even harder he needs therapy. If that wasn’t established by now. 

Self-consciousness about your own problems was the worst thing and Izuku preferred to assume he wasn’t aware that jumping off a roof at any minor inconvenience wasn’t a sign of some serious mental health problems.  

For now, when Izuku got a third error in the last five minutes of rebooting his computer he was clearly not succeeding in even opening up the files anymore. 

His skills lacked obviously and it showed that he was still young and self-taught stuff even if he was somewhat smart. Somewhat being the keyword here. Being just plain insane and reckless didn’t account for his logical thinking that was the only reason he really even passed the school. 

But he liked it, hacking, coding and so on and believed he was smart enough for some random numbers on the screen and stuff but apparently it wasn't enough. Hacking was a skill one could learn to a certain degree until you’re literally stuck with questions you have no answer to. And it’s not like he could Google how to open a super secret file with four different types of protection. Just to do even more illegal things openly and not have someone checking your IP address to send a truck full of police guys. No matter what movies showed Google didn't in fact have all the answers nor were people as chill. A shame really. 

But here’s the thing. Google didn’t have all the answers. But people did. Real people are not just fake names on forums of disguised twelve-year-olds playing some game. Not that Izuku was any better but that was entirely besides the fucking point. 

People on the streets shunned for simply trying to live, had all the craziest skills. 

And if Izuku didn’t know a person who could help then he wouldn't call himself an informator. Not that he went around yapping about his great knowledge or anything but it was still an earned title to uphold. Hence he had set out after another thirty minutes of failed hacking and one very hot computer left to cool down, Yami was out. The door shut tight, key was checked in case Eraserhead showed up for some reason. 

Thought he should have relooked his idea of going out before midnight. When the heroes hadn’t finished their patrols yet, Izuku was a big red target, quite literally, for them to grab left and right. 

His Red Riot hoodie not helping much either, a purchase from the overhauls money after a bad day and the need to recharge with some hero merch. He may have different views of heros nowadays but nothing beats a good quality hoodie. 

He should have probably left his Thirteen hoodie on thought. It was less noticeable and maybe would have saved him from having another breakdown. Was it Karma for tripping one of his classmates yesterday? That would check out. 

Not that he went out of his way to appear in the hero's patrol line but reality messed up people. Death messed up people. Made them careless, forgetful and a mountain of other things. And Izuku wasn’t an exception. 

It was apparent that he was very much influenced by the latest development of his life to the point his carelessness and lack of planning had gone up a notch. A very big notch if he let himself be almost caught and dragged to Tsukuachi’s personal desk.  

Even if he had been more alert than usual, even if he snapped his eyes to every small shadow he saw. Every sound. Apparently, that hadn't been enough, no tonight that is. 

Honestly, he had never accounted for his yet another traumatic experience to have more lasting effects than occasional outbursts of emotions as well as a complete lack of them. He didn’t consider his skill would just disappear one night and have him scaringly close to being done for. A mental block of sorts that had him unable to perform the best he could.  

A stupid setback to get over once again that put him in unnecessary danger and at risk of being caught. Though he wasn’t sure if would be too mad if he was in the long run. But tonight- tonight wasn’t for that. 

Izuku really should have checked the time and noticed the obvious lack of complete darkness gracing the sky as the sun hadn’t fully set beyond the horizon. His being a teenager wandering the streets after kids' bedtime was very obvious to the heroes. He was at that age when kids tended to do some shit after night set in and they wanted to have some taste of freedom. Only Izuku was a wanted criminal and the usual hero duty wasn’t to his taste.  

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to him when a hero had approached him. He should have played it off better but he was a kid and a weird one at that so he didn't plan this one through at all. When he had ever planned anything though, could he really blame himself for this one? Yeah, yeah he could and he would because he’s just like that and mistakes were his own. Consequences on the other hand? That’s something Izuku would discuss.  

“Hey, kid,” A voice called to Izuku right as he was turning a corner to disappear into an alleyway. Izuku raised his head, his eyes wide and looked around when he met the gaze of a hero staring at him, smiling. Izuku to his surprise didn’t recognise the hero. Very usual as they were still pretty much in the heart of Musutafu.  

“Yeah?” Izuku asked unsure if he was in trouble. He had the luck of a- he didn’t know what but it was so bad he was surprised he hadn’t been stopped sooner. Yet he hoped the hero would just give him a warning to get home and not loiter around.  

“What are you doing out so late? Do your parents know? C’mon let me escort you back home, it’s dangerous out here,” He ran his mouth, never letting his smile slip but it only made Izuku back a step away from the hero. His hand reached out to pull his hood on further. He didn’t like the way the hero was watching him, seeming to be searching for his face. Izuku didn’t have anything to cover his face with right now. 

He should have taken the other path, it would have been longer but it had been the safer choice in the long run. A spot pro heroes, at least the limelight ones didn’t prefer to patrol in. It was almost a dead zone to them. 

“My mom’s dead,” He had blurted out quickly hoping it would make the hero go away but he should have known it would have made the hero more curious. Foster systems were interesting in their day of age and kids without parents weren’t that uncommon, but if you were wandering the streets this late then something definitely was up. Which was a big mistake to say and the hero quickly latched on to his slip-up. 

His smile was still there. 

“I’m sorry kid, do you have a place to stay? We can go down to the police station and arrange something? Or are you in foster care?” Izuku cleared his throat, watching the man reach out for his hand. Izuku took another step away, building behind him meeting his back. 

What should he say? Should have lied from the beginning that he was just going home or something, just going to grab a snack. There were so many things he could have said but of course, he didn’t. At this point, he was surprised no one had caught him for his lies on the street if he did so badly with one hero. 

“Uh, I’m- I- fine,” Izuku gave the hero a tight smile, hoping it would be enough to escape, trying to slip into the alley to his right but with minimal success as the hero followed his movements.

“Speak up I can't hear you,” Apparently it wasn’t

“I said I’m fine hero you have nothing to worry about,” Izuku tried to slip into the alley once again but the hero grabbed his hand. It sounded alarm bells in Izuku’s head that something was definitely not fine but he tried to keep calm and not alert the hero that he was panicking. It would only make the situation worse. Though it was absolutely disastrous anyway. 

“I am a hero, I worry about everything and every one especially kids, c'mon let’s go,” The hero smiled at him but the smile was so fake Izuku forced himself not to roll his eyes and make the hero know he was seeing right through his acts. 

Kids like him shouldn't be able to understand when a hero was acting for the sake of keeping up an appearance that would sell. Although the hero was awfully nice for someone who patrolled in an area that did have many people wandering around and had even fewer big fights that would attract attention. But if he was taken to the police station then of course he would be getting some higher credit than usual. 

A calculated plan from the hero to get his cash. Izuku shouldn't be surprised. And yet he wondered how many heroes actually fought for the better of society, how many of them wanted to be out here risking their lives because it meant something to them. Not because they had a great quirk, big egos and thought it was a good way of making money. Izuku believed in heroes to some degree but that belief went down with every hero he met. And to his childhood dream that was the biggest disappointment of it all. 

“Seriously I’m fine,” He shook off the hero's hold but it only tightened on his wrist feeling the heat the man had. Did the guy have some fire quirk? Those seemed to be weirdly common. Or at least Izuku just knew too many people with fire quirks for his own good. He had to swear to himself that he’d never date someone with a fire quirk. 

“Is that blood on your clothes? That doesn't seem fine,” The hero looked at the bottom of Izuku’s hoodie. Red Riot hoodie for being so fucking red barely hid the blood stain he’d gotten on it accidentally after cutting his fingers. Despite the story not being anything exciting or dangerous he still lied. Where his brain cells went during this he wasn’t sure. But his chances of escape were not growing at all. The hero's gaze only made it so much apparent that Izuku was in deep shit. Once again with no one to help.

“No, no it’s just uh- paint, yeah paint,” Izuku laughed to himself. He was not fooling anyone. Shit. 

“Doesn't seem convincing,” 

“Please just leave me alone,” Izuku ducked his gaze away from the hero, pulling at his hoodie briefly to cover up half of his face more. He didn’t need the hero memorizing his face and making unnecessary connections. One was enough to have gathered annoying stalkers. Or three. Or how many more Aizawa had on his case. 

“My duty is to take care of society, I cannot let a kid who clearly needs help go,” If Izuku had to hear the hero's words about being a hero and having to take care of society he would go insane. What was with the guy and his conviction? He sounded like Stain. From what Izuku heard the man liked to give his speeches before injuring or ending heroes. All about heroes and whatnot. Izuku should hook them up; they'd be great friends. 

“Honestly, hero, you need to piss off, I said I’m fine,” Izuku said, glancing at the hero who didn’t smile anymore. His eyes glinted in the night. He had to get out of there. 

“Is that so? Why don’t you come with me to the police station so we can make sure everything’s okay?” The hero reached for the bat that he had taken with him but absently forgot that he even had it. Only when it slipped out of his hand did Izuku panic. 

“We don’t need to do that,” Izku grabbed the bat and pulled it back, winding as he hit himself in the chest with it. The hero watched him taking a fighting stance. What? What was the guy doing? 

“I see, I’m sorry kid but I’ll need to use force,” The hero apologized, steam rising from his fists. Someone so familiar flashed before Izuku’s eyes. Someone who hurt him to the point of insanity. 

“What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Izuku couldn't hold off the tremble in his voice. He'd never been scared of fighting, with the quirk he had, fear was a subject he never touched upon. But it seemed the feeling came back stronger than ever as he was afraid. Terrified. Seemed like death, and a lot of it did that to people. 

“It seems so, but your bat is all too familiar,” 

“Wha-,” Izuku gulped, no way would the hero know. “What?”

“You’re Yami, aren’t you? Oh, I knew there’d be a day I'd run into you, didn’t think it would be so soon. Who knew you were just a kid with a dead mother, stuttering through your teeth,” 

“Shut the fuck up,”

“Oh- I’m so scared, now shut up yourself kid, you’re coming with me,” The hero mocked and Izuku made the stupid decision to swing his bat. 

“No, the fuck I’m not,” The hero caught the bat leaving a large handprint on the wood and threw it away. 

“Are you sure about that?” He grinned and Izuku saw stars as the hero moved. Izuku was on his back, his gaze still littered with stars and black spots, rope digging into his wrist as the hero tied him up. He’d fallen so low. 

“Shit!”

“If you think it’d be that easy to escape then you’re very much wrong,”

“I should have known that the underground hero was talking ass when they said Yami was hard to capture,” The hero pulled him to the roof, not even bothering to stand him up or carry Izuku. Just let the uneven ground dig into Izuku’s exposed skin. “Look at you, bound and writhing on the floor, can’t even move, this is too easy,” 

“Let me go fucker,” Izuku glared at the hero beneath his hood. 

“Such a request for a villain like you,”

“I said let me go,” Was this really it? He’d fucked up so hard he was so easily caught and now was being dragged to the police station he’d been evading what two years now? Damn. If Erasrhead was here he’d probably be so disappointed in him. 

“Or what? No one’s going to save you,” Izuku wanted to tell him, that there would be. Aizawa would come for him and pull him out of this mess. Hold him close again. Tell him that everything would be alright even if Izuku didn’t really believe that. But he would come for him. 

“You’ll regret this one asshat,”

“Can you afford to run your mouth when you’re bound and have no way of escaping?”

“Who says I have no way of doing that,”

“You’re stupid then,” The hero chuckled and Izuku had a sense of Deja Vu. Back when he started this school year he just wanted a sandwich and got caught up with Erasrhead. A certain guy had come, blue fire blazing and letting Izuku escape and disappear. It was all too familiar now. The only thing was different; they weren’t friends anymore. 

“Fuck,” The hero screamed fire lapping at his skin, searing between Izuku and the hero. The rope burned, it was a chance to run. 

“Who's there?” The hero shouted into the darkness, squinting his eyes as Izuku pushed the rope off himself and stood up, feeling a hand grip pull him up. 

“Show yourself!”

“Need help?” Izuku whirled around punching the guy who helped him, feeling no remorse at the familiar burnt face. 

“No, fuck off,” Izuku hissed, flicking his gaze to the hero who smiled at both of them, though his smile was far more nervous. It was clear that the hero knew he wouldn't be able to take both of them. Not that he would have to. Izuku was out of here and now. 

“Noted,” Dabi mumbled by his side. 

“You really are a pathetic little kid Yami, can’t even escape without your little friend coming in for help,”

“We’re not friends,” Izuku rolled his eyes and let Dabi deal with the guy content that neither followed him as he slipped into the dark of the alley, where Dabi had come from. 

Izuku escaped to the roof taking a deep breath as his hands shook from the adrenaline and fear rushing through his system. It would be a while until he could breathe without his heart seizing up and sending signals to his brain that he should run or something. The fight or flight instinct flicked on and off with every breath. 

It was weird. Unfamiliar. When had been the last time he’d felt like this? Unable to do anything? Unable to come up with a plan for an escape? Maybe the first few months when he started out as a vigilante. When he hadn't known the harsh truth of being someone not a hero. 

Two months into his vigilante work he’d been caught up in robbery and police had mistaken him for the robber when he’d only wanted to listen in on some info. Badly chosen hiding spot and too bring of a hoodie on him had him being hauled by his hair to the police car. He had gotten lucky then when another villain had shown up causing a scene and he had managed to slip away. Broken arm and all. 

Those were the times. Forgotten and buried times when he’d really been just a kid playing pretend thinking he could do something but all he did was stir trouble and get paid by running away and breaking his leg or ankle every time he jumped from roof to roof because apparently there’s a proper landing technique and all. He really should have looked stuff up before he went to the streets. 

But that wasn’t the case here. Tonight he really had let his fears go. Let himself be hauled so easily. 

Had he really been so out of touch that he needed Dabi to help him? Dabi whom he wasn’t friends with anymore. Dabi had no obligation to save his ass but he did it anyway and didn’t seem bothered by Izuku’s attitude towards him. Just giving him that stupid signature smirk that screamed apathy to the max. But then again why was he there? 

Did he follow Izuku around? Did he feel guilty or something? That couldn't be it. Not really. Dabi wasn’t one for guilt. He just did his own thing, not caring about anyone else really. Izuku didn't get him and this time it was the same. He had no idea why Dabi did that but Izuku had no time to dwell on it when his legs wobbled and he slid down on the rooftop feeling his knees dig into the concrete. For sure bruises blooming on his skin if his shaky hands and pounding heart were to go by his quirk wasn’t working that much either. 

Mental block? He had once thought of that being possible as quirks were mental abilities as well. He had never really experienced the phenomenon of his quirk- always working until the last weeks when he had been really used to that point of breaking. Who knew that besides his mental issues, the whole ordeal had his quirk going wonky? Or maybe he was just assuming things when his breath was short and unstable, mind racing and oxygen depleting in his lungs. 

He was apparently hyperventilating. Oh fun. Izuku was very much aware of that fact. He hated that he was. It was always hard to snap out of it then. When he knew he had to calm down he knew he had to try and take deeper breaths but his mind was resisting any idea of that so he just started breathing harshed. Sight growing fuzzy because yeah lack of oxygen was a serious thing and if he was going to faint it wouldn't be too fun. 

Truthfully. He didn't know what his luck was. When one moment it had him almost dying and then next being saved by the most random people he should have expected Aizawa to show up like the stalker he was, fast steps approaching Izuku with careful hands that pull his hands apart. He had started scratching at his skin at some point. 

His luck was a weird thing but he didn’t care about any of that when Aizwa pulled him out of his panic that didn’t seem to want to leave for the longest time. But it did. And then he was pulled into a hug by the hero. He should be proud of himself. He managed to snatch two hugs of the well-known hero to have zero emotions and an aversion for physical touch - Eraserhead. If only the circumstances were different but that was his wishful mind thinking weirdly. Lack of oxygen had him coming up with weird things and wishes. 

Chapter Text

“Here you go,” The sandwich and a strawberry can of soda appeared in his lap. The comforting weight of the food and a solid hand on his shoulder slipped away as the hero took a step away. Izuku fought the urge to tell him to place it back. 

“Thanks,” He mumbled, gripping the given products tight in his hands unsure if he wanted to eat them now or later.  But the stare Aizawa gave him kicked Izuku in his butt as he gently ripped open the package for the sandwich and took a bite, realizing how hungry he was. Damn it, it was his favourite one too. 

Reminiscent of one of their first meetings seemingly so long ago now. The world was surely round, wasn’t it?

Izuku sneaked another glance at the hero who gently tapped away at his phone, his eyes shifting towards Izuku most likely to have felt his gaze. Izuku turned away, chewing slowly trying to subdue the fear that ripped deep in his guts at the idea that the hero might be calling for backup to apprehend him. Eraserhead wouldn’t do that. Or Izuku had to trust him not to. 

“You’ll be alright?” Izuku glanced at Aizawa, chewing slowly despite the anxiety making the food taste like nothing but cement. 

The hero put his phone away returning to his side, his gaze sweeping all over Izuku’s body. Searching for injuries. One that Izuku knew the hero would never find. Even if he had any they were long healed. Long gone for the hero to worry about. which was unfortunate in some ways. 

Izuku shrugged at Aizawa’s question. Not sure what he was asking about. His crippling depression, suicidal daily thoughts or just the general day-to-day life. Or maybe the fact that he’d just gotten over a panic attack on the roof. 

It was really embarrassing if Izuku had to say anything. Aizawa had approached him, talked him out of it and calmed him down in a matter of minutes. Amazing. 

If Izuku had the hero every time he fell into a spiral of his own mind telling him to die and his hands shaking so much he was unable to hold anything, life would be so much easier. But of course, he didn’t have that luxury so he just settled for shrugging again, gulping down the large bite he’d taken and looking the hero in the eyes, starting on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yeah uh- don’t worry, not for the first time,” He waved Aizawa off. Hoped that the hero would just accept it and move on. As much as he liked the idea of having a support system whenever he just went down it wasn't plausible, not to him. He didn't live the life to be granted things that would make living easier. That would make existing worth it. Honestly, it was a dream he’d never achieve but couldn't let go. Like something else, he so desperately tried to forget. 

“That’s what worries me,” Aizawa said and Izuku couldn’t help but sigh. Of course, the hero wouldn’t just let it go. Any sane person wouldn't let this slip by like nothing happened and Izuku was fine and dandy and this was just one time thing. He told Aizawa it wasn’t but he still hoped that Eraserhead would just let it go for his sake. But when something ever happened the way Izuku wished for? 

Maybe he should just say bye to the hero for tonight and wallow in self-pity in the closure of his own home. No need for this mushy ‘I am worried about you kid’ thing Eraserhead had going on for him? Which didn’t make much sense to Izuku at all. Why would Aizawa choose someone like him to help? He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth the effort of other people when he knew that in the end, he’d waste it by dying. 

“Izuku,” Aizawa placed his hand on Izuku’s shoulder again, grounding him. Izuku hadn't realized his breathing had picked up again. Was he really about to have a second panic attack in front of the hero? Apparently. 

Izuku crinkled the package in his hand, looking at the half-eaten sandwich. He placed it on the edge to his left and cracked the soda open. He was full for tonight. 

“What’s up,” Izuku breathed out, taking a sip of the soda. It was tasty. He smiled, feeling the squeeze of Aizawa's hand who shifted next to him pulling out his phone again. Izuku tried not to look at the screen, respecting his privacy. He could peek into people's private lives some other time. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“If it’s a request to stop then I'll break your dreams right here and now and say no,” He had no interest in stopping, not when he was so deep in the villain world backing away was dangerous. Which was a bit funny when more often than not he wished for death after all. 

“While that is a concern of mine I simply wish to know what is your end goal”

“My end goal?” Izuku bit his lip. What was his end goal? He wasn't so sure himself. At some point lines blurred and his motivation if he ever had one just disappeared. It became simply the lifestyle that he lived. And perhaps that was his downfall in the long run. 

“What are you doing this all for? Why are you a vigilante?” Izuku wanted to point out that he was far removed from being a vigilante. He was a villain. A criminal. Someone who did things that influenced society in negative ways. He couldn't be considered a vigilante even if he deliberately tried to. Far too many cases of straight-up villains to his name to ever clear it. 

He used not to mind it. But at some point living a life with different expectations from people made it so much harder to figure out himself. 

“Can some things be done without a cause?” Aizawa raised his eyebrow and Izuku felt ashamed. He knew he didn’t fit the standards of a normal kid in a long time. Maybe even since birth, the obvious lack of quirks for years is an indicator as any. But even then being downright suicidal and just being a villain for the kicks of it was not something someone his age would do. Kids didn’t turn into villains as a joke at least not as long as him or to the point being a villain felt more natural than living his life as a normal teenager trying to finish school. 

“Probably but putting yourself in harm's way of helping others isn't something that can be done without a cause, at least I can’t see it that way,” Aizawa had other ideas apparently. Ideas that didn’t align with what Izuku believed at all. Putting himself in harm's way for other people? Did he do that? He couldn't remember the last time he’d done anything for other people. He never did things for other people; he was a selfish kid after all. If his quirk was anything to go by. Unable to help anyone but himself. 

“In retrospect, I'm not really just a vigilante. I've done just as much bad as good and trying to put me into a certain category seems pointless,” His ‘good’ doing was very far and in between. Maybe at first, he tried to do some good. Help people here and there. He still did it. beat some thugs who tried to steal an old lady's purse or rape someone. But it was just common sense. Logic. Those who did that were simply scumbags. So he didn’t count it. At least not in a way that mattered. 

“But does that change the question?” Aizwa insisted still. 

“Guess no,” 

“So why? What drives you? Revenge? Money? Boredom?” Izuku didn't know. He had no idea. Okay? He had no idea but that one persistent thought still bubbled over. And Izuku squeezed his eyes shut trying to forget it. It didn’t matter now. What good would it do to remember his broken dreams and wishes? He was done with that life. He'd never have it; he knew it. He wasn't good enough for it. Everyone always reminded him of that. What was the point of trying to be someone he couldn't ever achieve? 

“I wanted to be a hero once,” And yet. Izuku tasted bile on his tongue. 

“Sorry?”

“Before- two years ago, it’s probably more than that- well when I realized I wasn't quirkless I wanted to be a hero, like any kid right now,” He wanted to be a hero so badly. Talked about it every day. Even to people who told him no all the time. Even if he was beaten and broken and repeatedly shut down for dreaming of something that everyone wished for. A dream that was very much the standard and yet Izuku still believed until his life shifted upside down. And the dream became just that: a dream. Never to be fulfilled or ever brought up again. 

“What changed?” Izuku bit his tongue, hanging his head down. What changed? everything alright? Izuku choked back on the tears that threatened to spill. He disliked talking about his past because every time he did he cried. He should be past crying. Kacchan told him as much already. 

“I don't know,” Izuku whispered. He knew but at the same time, he couldn’t say there was a certain moment that made him snap and jump.  

“I don't think I ever stopped wanting that I just got realistic,” If rising from death wasn’t a wake-up call then Izuku didn’t know what needed to happen for him to drop his dreams and shut up for once. He used to be so annoying now that he looked back on it. No wonder people hated him. He’d hate himself. So naive. So easily swayed. 

“At first I became a vigilante, I did well you know, like the usual stuff people without a license do, stopped a robbery, tipped the police, helped some random kid and so on,” At first it was like a dream. Not something he wished for but quite literally a dream. like he went to bed and hadn't woken up for a few months. Floating in existence and tearing the underground bit by bit not knowing he’d become someone so big and influential there would be no way back. Until he woke up one day. When reality shattered once more. 

“Something happened didn’t it?” He wished he could have reversed that time. Apply his quirk to someone else who wants him. 

“I was stupid you know, thinking I could be something, no training, no money, barely reasonable ideas in my head and then next thing I knew I was alone and it was all my fault. Eventually, it turned me desperate and desperate people are capable of many things,” He knew he’d eventually make mistakes. Had already made quite a few. But none of them cost as much as that one did. None of them cost his only light in the world. His mother. That’s when he realized that his dream the one he thought he had left behind but intentionally had clung to anyway was really nothing more than the stupid wishes of a twelve-year-old. 

After that incident, he changed. A lot. learned how to survive, not live. It was quite different and Izuku hadn’t lived since then. 

“Are you desperate now? Is there a difference between then and now that you continue living this life?”

“There are certain things that I never got back from that time and it’s a lifestyle I got used to, being the villain I am is something that will forever stay with me, I don't think you can go do something for two years, stop doing it and expect thinking that it’ll be forgotten,”

“Do you have plans on stopping?” Izuku glanced at the hero, surprised to see sadness so evident in the hero's eyes. 

“My plans end the moment I'm behind bars or dead but one’s more possible than the other by the cruelty of life,” Izuku hated how Aizawa’s face twisted. Izuku hated how he seemed to really care about him. Izuku had been fine without people caring for him. Dabi didn’t count for the record. That was a different story entirely. 

“And for the record- I am more desperate than I ever was Aizawa-san,” Izuku whispered, tearing his eyes away from his face and looking at the city. He couldn't bear to look at Aizawa any more. Guilt squeezing his insides. He should have kept his mouth shut. Or escaped when he could. 

“There’s a lot of things I wanted when I was a kid,” He continued talking. Because that’s what he did. Talk and talk and talk all the time until someone shuts him up.

There had been many unique and creative ways of how that was done. Izuku wondered if Aizawa would come up with one himself. Surely the hero didn’t want to hear him ramble all the time as well. Just had more patience for Izuku’s rambles. Some people did but eventually, everyone snapped. Eventually, Izuku couldn't talk because it hurt too much to do so. 

His mouth still ached from those two thugs. Maybe they didn’t exactly do that to shut him up but the implication was there anyway. No one bothered to cut the inside of someone's mouth when it was so messy without the idea of silencing that person. 

“You’re still a kid and you’re allowed to want things,” Izuku shook his head. That luxury wasn’t for him. “You’re allowed second chances,” If his second chances were never dying then he didn’t want it. 

“Why does it sound like you’re trying to tell me that I should just drop everything now to go to the station and hope Tsukauchi says that I'm free to go or something,” Izuku blurted out his throat sore from gulping away any sob that threatened to come up. 

“If that was possible,” Aizawa murmured in a tone that indicated that it was. It sounded ridiculous. 

“But it's not and I don't appreciate you trying to sugarcoat the fact that I've done stuff kid or not,” Izuku didn’t want the hero's pity. He didn’t want to watch Aizawa look at him like he needed help. He didn’t want to fall into the false sense of security that was Aizawa and his husband and that one cat he knew the hero had only for it all to be ripped away the moment he slipped and was shipped to the prison right away. It didn’t matter if he let himself trust Aizawa when any moment he could be gone. And Izuku knew the hero didn’t have that much influence to save him from the hell that awaited him. no matter how much Aizawa seemed to believe that. 

“I'm biased I'll admit,”

“But why, why are you biased? You barely know me, I'm Yami and I'm Izuku, one and the same. We’ve met properly like seven times now? But what does it change? Why are you so forgiving?” Why was Aizawa looking at him like he’d done nothing bad? 

The hero knew all the stuff Izuku had gotten up to in all of his villain career. Surely he couldn't be so okay with all of that. Even if he was a kid that was a bit too biased. A bit too unrealistic. 

Izuku took the silence as a cue to leave so he stood up or tried to, swaying on his feet. Aizawa was quick to stabilize him. Izuku sighed, rubbing his hair. Aizawa pulled him back down to sit, hands lingering just a tad bit longer than necessary. It was obvious he didn’t want to let go. 

“Because I see myself in you,” 

“What?” Izuku choked. He probably heard wrong. 

“When I was a little bit older than you, still learning to be a hero there were a lot of things I thought of myself and a lot of things that I wanted to do because society stripped me of opportunities and experience any kid should have,” Izuku could almost hear him saying ‘the same as you’. 

“And?”

“And I see myself in you, I see a hero, I see my best friend, someone so bright and strong, and I’m afraid you’ll be the same fate as he did,” 

“Is he-?” Izuku kneaded his thigh. Aizawa nodded, turning away, most likely opening a painful wound to talk about. 

“Dead? Yeah, he was a hero through and through. You may have taken a different path but I see so much of him in you I'm afraid,” Izuku could hardly believe what he was hearing. Aizawa being afraid for him? For his safety? Should he mention he couldn't die? To ease the heroes' worry? Or would that only make it worse? No doubt Aizawa would look at him quite differently after finding that out. No one thought a person who couldn't die and easily used that fact was sane. No one looked at him the same way after knowing that information. It was hard to do so. Izuku himself perceived himself differently the moment he woke up bloody and not dead as he thought he’d be.

“Didn’t know you could be afraid,” That was all he managed. None of that noise about not being able to die he didn't want to scare the hero away just yet. 

“I think heroes are people who fear being alive the most,” Aizawa mumbled and Izuku looked at his eyes wide. He knew heroes fearing things, it was something very human but to openly admit they feared the world the most? That was- that was something Izuku didn’t expect. 

Heroes were pillars. No matter how Izuku disliked many of them, how they had shattered his dreams, how they had abandoned him when he needed it the most, they still were pillars of society and no matter how much he tried to deny it, that was the truth. All Might is a very obvious one. But he had to guess even the number one was afraid. At some point everyone was.

“Might be the guilt of being alive while someone you couldn't save is dead or the idea that you’re only preparing for a crueller death for yourself. I don’t know but the fear is still there,” That made sense. being afraid of something they couldn't control. Something that others may judge them for. 

“Death is-” Izuku gulped. Death was familiar. And yet he understood what Aizawa meant so well. “It’s scary, but I think surviving is the hard part,” He may have died and every time it hurt a lot, every time it sent him into panic and dismay. But the part when he woke up feeling all of that pain, confused and wondering if one more would come was much worse. 

“Izuku, can I ask you to do a job for the police?” Aizawa broke the silence that had once settled between them. Izuku looked up at the man in surprise. A job? For him? So outwardly asking?

“You should ask Yami,” He smiled gently. Izuku didn’t do jobs for the police. But Yami did. And it was familiar. Izuku let himself slip into the familiar notion of being a villain and took a deep breath. He could do this. 

Somehow Izuku had surrounded himself with people who lived to make Izuku think about all the things he didn’t want. Besides Aizawa, Shinsou was the next person who just brought all the emotions out of Izuku with a few words of his own. Not that he minded much but after spilling his deepest secrets the night before Izuku was just a bit too tired to think about anything remotely close to emotions and his own self-worth. 

“Dude you're totally wrecked,” Izuku rolled his eyes, making his way through the trash pile catching Shinsou on the very familiar couch lounging around. His feet kicked up on the armrest, scrolling through his phone, a small smile on his face. 

“Thanks, Shinsou for your wonderful input on my good looks,” Izuku grinned, dropping by his side, shifting around and making Shinsou grumble as the seat was barely wide enough for both of them to fit comfortably. Shinsou moved his legs around, planting his head in Izuku’s lap. Izuku sighed looking at Shinsou who put his phone down, looking back at him. 

“You alright?” Izuku shrugged, jostling both of them, looking away from Shinsou’s curious eyes, knowing that the teen would figure him out in an instant. He both loved and hated that quality Shinsou had.

“Peachy,” Izuku rubbed the back of his head. 

“I haven’t slept,” After talking to Eraserhead he still pulled an all-nighter worried about future plans what to do with the Aizawa proposal, and what to do with anything else in his life. His eyelids were sticking together every time he blinked. Even if he downed an energy drink to stay awake for a few hours more he barely felt it. He only felt sleepier after drinking it. A weird reverse effect. 

“Mood,” Shinsou mumbled, always sporting eyebags of his own. Most likely in a similar predicament as him. Though probably didn’t have to hold the emotional baggage of being a country-wide wanted criminal among many other things that is. But indeed mood. 

“Though we shouldn't spar today, you look like you might fall any moment,” Izuku flicked his gaze back to the teen sprawled on his lap, eyebrows raised in the air. 

Why not? 

He was perfectly capable of holding his own thank you very much. Did shinsou think he’d be easily beaten because of his lack of sleep? No. Shinsou wasn’t that arrogant. His quirk may have him talking shit half of the time he wanted to get a rise out of someone but it didn’t mean he actually thought like that. It was only a means to bypass other people's arrogance, not showcase the lack of one's own. Though he was a snarky little shit when he wanted to be. Not that izuku was any better but still. 

“It’s best if we do it now, who knows if I'll show up next time,” Izuku said absentmindedly. It was true tho. He had no idea if the next day he’d be free anymore and not on his way to Tsukauhci’s office. He wondered if the man had a coffee machine there. Maybe he should pitch in for a really good one. As a thanks to the man for putting up with his shit. As far as he knew from some files he looked up the man was mostly working on trying to bring Yami down. Which wasn’t an easy feat if Izuku was still out and running around. He broke down enough for the police to pick him up at some random corner. 

“Omnious as fuck and also very worrying,” Shinsou sighed, sitting up. Izuku hummed as he shifted his legs, missing the warmth on his lap. Was that human touch deprivation? Izuku tried not to think about that part of his fucked up nature. 

“Sorry,” Izuku shrugged. He wasn’t that sorry, to be honest. It was the truth and it best if Shinsou knew. He didn’t want his friend to completely figure him out but at some point, he feared that he would. and Izuku preferred if he figured it out now and not when Izuku’s face was broadcasted all over the country finally being caught. That would be a disaster. 

“Mido,” Shinsou pushed his shoulder gently gaining his attention. Izuku flicked his gaze to Shinsou’s bored expression which he knew was anything but bored. To others, it may not look worried or concerned at all but Izuku knew his friend was very much worried. Izuku shifted his eyes to the ground in front of him. The same with Aizawa he hated looking at his friend when he was so obviously worried for Izuku. 

“Look at me,” Shinsou shook his shoulder once more. 

“I am,” Izuku mumbled, 

“That’s sand,”

“It’s very dashing,”

“C’mon Mido,”

“What are you? My dad?” Izuku sighed, flicking his gaze to Shinsou, finally a small smile pulling at his lips when Shinsou rolled his eyes. 

“Not that’s Eraserhead,”

Izuku shook his head. Shinsou should stop with the joke he had going on. He didn’t really see why his friend was making that connection between them. They weren't anything alike and even if Eraserhead was worried for him that didn’t mean anything he was a hero after all. 

“Stop with that, he’s just doing his hero work, he might know my favourite convenience store sandwich and kicks my butt to go home and sleep but that doesn't mean-” 

“He knows your favourite sandwich?” Shinsou gasped, shocked, scandalized and very much betrayed. 

“-He’s my dad. “ 

“Yeah he treated me a few times, always buys a soda with it,” Izuku shrugged. He didn’t think much about it because obviously, Aizawa would note information like that after a few times he had bought that specific item from Izuku. It’s nothing weird to remember right? 

“Dude we’re friends but I have no fucking idea what your favourite colour even is,” Izuku laughed. He didn’t even have a favourite colour, so it didn’t count. “He’s definitely your dad,” 

“He's just a hero doing his work,” Izuku bumped Shinsou's shoulder to shut him up, not that it did anything. 

“And you’re a kid who needs help,”

“See nothing but business,” 

“What I meant is that he’s adopting you,” Shinsou grinned at him as Izuku groaned, shielding his eyes with his hand thinking that’d spare him from this bullshit. Eraserhead wasn’t his dad. 

“Shinsou I love you but please if you wanted to distract me from sparring then you could have chosen a different topic,”

“Like your depleting mental stability or the fact that there's blood on your clothes?” Izuku looked down at his shirt, an obvious red stain glaring at both of them. Izuku sighed. Well, that was great. 

“Shit,” He tried to rub the stain away like it would do anything when the blood had dried long ago and nothing would budge it right now. He should do a better job at cleaning his clothes. Half of them were stained with blood and the other half were just dirty in general. He needs a cleaning day. Again.

Maybe he should invite Shinsou to help him or something.  “Also why are you so blunt, I thought friends are supposed to be sensitive and caring,” Izukus stopped rubbing at the spot and turned to Shinsou who shrugged taking his eyes away from the spot as well. 

“I am caring, you’re just you,” 

“Says the pro insomniac,” 

“Hey I never said I don't have a few screws loose,” They both shared a brief laugh at the irony of that. Yeah, they both needed help. One more than the other but who was comparing? 

“Honestly if we had to talk you would be more likely to get adopted by Aizawa, you even look alike when he uses his quirk,” Izuku noted. 

They both were chronically sleep-deprived and had those bloodshot eyes and whatnot. And when Aizawa used his quirk his hair went swoosh up much like Shinsous, hair that defied gravity like nothing. Izuku still didn’t have the courage to ask how or why. Was it natural or did Shinsou like to use hair gel and fuck up his hair for style? Which was cool and all but Izuku wouldn't have the motivation to continue it. Dying his hair was already the worst thing ever every time it crusted and he had to wash it out and it wouldn't budge he was ready to cry. At this point, his hair was more black than green anyway. 

“Oh no sorry that spot is taken by you and I have a somewhat stable family,” Shinsou jabbed into his side. Izuku hissed, throwing a light punch back into his shoulder. 

“Blut as fuck,”

“Be happy cuz no one else is gonna tolerate you, little gremlin,” Shinsou grinned standing up, pulling at Izuku’s hand to get him. Izuku groaned and pulled himself to his feet. He quite liked being down there, thank you very much. 

“Me gremlin?” Izuku gasped. “Never,” He put a hand on his heart. 

“Mido,” 

“What,”

“Frown for me,” Izuku raised his eyebrow but did it anyway, pulling his face into a  frown. Shinsou quickly pulled his phone out, snapping a picture. Izuku winced at the flash, not really sure what Shinsou was doing here. 

“Spitting Aizawa, the next time we run into him, I'm showing him the picture unless you have his number and can send a pic,” Izuku bit his lip at that. He actually had Aizawa's number. Never used it though but he did have it. 

“You’re shitting me,” Shinsou stared at him in disbelief, realizing what his silence meant. Sometimes his friend was far too perspective for his own good. 

“He forced me to have it, I never actually put it in my phone thought,”

“Eraserhead gave you his number,” Shinsou still gaped at him, twiddling his phone in his hands. Izuku sighed. It wasn't that strange right? To have a hero's number because the hero cared, right? 

“What did you do?” Izuku winced. What hadn’t he done? 

“I uh- cried?” It had been that time he almost busted his ass as Yami but showed his fingers into his eyes making himself cry unintentionally. As it turned out he still cried by the end of the night like the crybaby that he was. 

“You cried and Eraser gave you his number,” Shinsou dropped back on the couch that Izuku had sat on as Shisnou tried to gather words to say anything after the revelation. Their shoulders bumped as usual and Izuku rubbed his hands together.

It shouldn't be something that made his spiral down but it added to the whole thing of Aizawa caring for him which wasn’t the best thing to think about if he didn't want to cause himself to panic and try to tear his hair out. Aizawa was a sensitive topic. Especially when he was alone and let his thoughts wander. It was dangerous to let himself believe some of those stupid fantasies. 

“In short yes,”

“Why did you never text him or something?” Izuku had never. He never saw a chance to nor the need to. It was only an unnecessary attachment. But should he? That time he died? Another time he died. All the times that he died. If he had Aizwa’s number before he jumped the first time would his life be any different? 

“And tell what? That I’m a suicidal kid who has no sense of self-preservation- come here to babysit me?” Izuku couldn't call him now though. He already knew where Izuku lived and it was welcomed at all, to be honest.

“Izuku I might not know what’s going on because I'm sure you’re not telling me much but he’s clearly trying to reach out to you so I don't get it why aren't you letting him,”

“It’s not that simple,” Izuku tried not to get angry at his friend who wished him well. Obviously, he couldn't get angry at someone who didn’t know the full situation but emotions were a weird thing. 

“Why?”

“I can't tell you,”

“You can't or won't?” Shinsou pressed where it hurt and he knew what he was doing by the determined look on his face. Izuku was far too sleep-deprived to have this conversation. Honestly, at any time, he wouldn't be ready to have this talk. He didn’t want to have this talk. 

“Listen I'm not holding it against you, I don't want to know all your secrets that shit is invasive and just puts more stress on you, but I'm your friend and I want to help you,” Shinsou kept talking and Izuku listened. Like he had any other choice. 

“But this isn’t about me, this is about you. Think about it, if he’s genuinely trying to do something good for you, don't be an ass and at least try to accept it.”

“If it doesn't work out, you'll think about it then okay?” Izuku nodded. He knew Shinsou was right in the long run. Either way, if he let Aizawa in or not it was gonna end the same way. Why let himself be deprived of that little happiness for a few brief moments? 

Maybe it would hurt so much more. Maybe because the people he cared about could get hurt? There were many things to factor in but at the same time, it could be worth it. He wouldn't mind getting more of those sandwiches from Aizawa. Maybe he could meet Present Mic again. And their cat. He heard Aizawa calling it ‘Bastard’ whether that was its actual name or just a term of endearment. Izuku would love to pet it. He never had the chance to have pets with his mom as they were expensive to take care of. 

“Why are you so smart?”Izuku grinned as Shinsou snorted. All that emotional talk for Izuku to joke around. 

“You’re rubbing off on me, hours of listening to your analysis has made my IQ rise,” 

“What will you do without me and my rambles during high school Shinsou,” 

“Well if go to U.A. that problem could be easily solved-”

“Shinsou I said-” 

“I know. I'm not saying heroe courses, there's literally gen ed and stuff, but your smarts would probably work for a support course as well. You don’t have to be a hero if you don’t want to, but you’d do a lot of good in the support industry,” Izuku was too stunned to speak. Was Shinsou serious right now? Him in the U.A.? Even if it was a support course or general education or even the business course he wouldn’t be able to. Not with how the future was playing out for him so far. 

“I don't know, I don't have time to think about high school,” Izuku mumbled. The school and the teachers were talking about high school and correct choices since the start of the year but Izuku let those talks go over his head. They didn’t matter to him anyway. Not when he had no plans on going anywhere right now. 

“And it's not like I never thought about it, it's just that am at that point of life where thinking about anything beyond this summer a blank image comes up in my mind like I don't see myself alive by then,” If he survived by then he didn’t want to continue living in the rotten society pretending to be someone he was not. Not even for Shinsou, it would hurt too much. 

“It'll be alright, and if it isn't, let's make the most of it now,” Shinsou was too supportive for his damn good. Izuku chuckled to himself, voice cracking making it sound a little too close to a sob for his liking. Whatever. He should follow Shinsou's advice. 

“Are you still up for sparring?” Izuku raised his eyebrow standing. 

“Like the day I was born,” Shinsou stood up stretching. 

“Maybe by the time of the U.A. entrance exam you’d be able to beat me at least once,” Izuku escaped the swipe on Shinsou’s hand and laughed. 

“Acting like I've never knocked you down,” 

“Lucky ruses,”

“Har-har,” Shinsou got into position, motioning for Izuku to come at him. That was fun. 

Chapter Text

“Hi, Tsukauchi,” The boy that had been giving Tsukauchi constant headaches grinned at him. Though the grin was anything but welcoming, the coldness in his eyes said otherwise despite his seemingly happy demeanour. In front of him was not fourteen-year-old Midoriya Izuku but rather a criminal with 2 years of vigilantism and villainy under his belt. A kid -more dangerous than a man. 

“Hello Izuku, Yami, it’s nice to finally meet you, properly,” Tsukauchi brought a hand to his hat, tipping in a leu of greeting and Izuku just waved at him, slouching on the crate he had been sitting on. The boy stuck his hands in his pockets and watched Tsukauchi without blinking. 

Truthfully he had seen many youngsters like him try and play the villain, try and be intimidating but nothing ever felt like this. A chill ran down his spine at the sharpness of his eyes. No doubt Yami was analyzing every movement, every twitch of his fingers and eyes. Soaking up information around them. Every escape, every opening in case Tsukauchi went against their word of this rooftop being a neutral ground. 

“Aizawa said you had a job for me? Didn’t think you’d come so straightforward, was me disappearing with my tips a hit to the effectiveness of the police force?” Tsukauchi had to bite back a sigh, knowing damn well the kid was right in his assumptions. 

The smirk the kid gave him told Tsukauchi the kid knew his disappearance really affected the workload of the police station. Especially Tsukauchi but he wouldn’t burden the kid with that knowledge just yet. Wouldn't make it obvious the police force had been working more efficiently after a kid helped them. It would be a blow to their already poor reputation. No need to boost the kid's ego, although Tsukuachi thought the kid would just take it as something to be concerned about.

Try to help them when Yami should be simply living the life of a teenager. Do not gather information from dangerous villains. 

“In a way yes but that’s not the reason why we’re meeting,” He smiled at Izuku who swung his legs back and forth, humming to himself. 

“I’m sure you’re more than familiar with the drug Trigger Yami,” The swinging stopped briefly before it picked up again. 

“Is this about the rumours?” Of course, that would be his first assumption. As it was one of the most widespread rumours about Yami and his quirk. 

Trigger is the sole reason Yami was still kicking, at least said by some. No one really knew whether that was true or not, especially Tsukauchi when he couldn't confirm the rumours without outright asking Izuku right here. But the kid's quirk was not the basis of this meeting at all and he didn’t want to scare him away by toying around the main subject of their discussion. There was no need to make Izuku more anxious 

Despite the ache to know if Yami was alright his healing quirk was not something that activated a reckless streak in him. 

“Nothing of that sort don’t worry, we don’t depend on our work on rumours that are as baseless as this,” He knew he was lying here and no doubt the kid in front of him knew as well. The raise of his eyebrow was clear as a day. 

“And yet you know I’m Izuku,”

“But as far as I know you have no physical proof of that,” Yami laughed to himself.

How did Aizawa deal with him when all Tsukauchi felt was snarkiness accompanied by high intelligence? He’d go insane with the kid even if looked like a sweetheart who could do nothing wrong. Come upon him on the street he’d never think that the kid was a criminal almost running the underground. 

“You have me there,” Tsukauchi chuckled, a real laugh this time and if he had to go by Izuku’s smile he was amused as well. Which should have warned him before the boy opened his mouth and reminded Tsukauhci who he was dealing with. 

“It’s okay detective, though you might have to check your database records sometime later, can't have you knowing more than you should,” Tsukauchi cleared his throat. 

“You like to cause trouble don’t you,” Tsukauchi made a note in his mind to look through the database and review the file security. He didn’t know how well-versed Izuku was on hacking or any of that computer stuff. Tsukauchi never really understood himself so he didn’t know if their firewalls were simply weak enough for a teenager to get through or if Izuku was simply a smart kid with nothing else to do. He leaned towards the latter. 

“That’s my whole personality,” Tsukauchi had to give Aizawa more credit, no wonder the hero was sighing more often than not these days. Tsukauchi was privy to know that Aizawa absolutely adored kids even if he didn’t show it but it seemed that Izuku was a handful even for the hero who adopted kids yearly, depending on how many he left in his class that is. That was a round zero this year, so no wonder he was so attached to Izuku. Tsukauchi thought would never mention that to the hero for the fear of being left coffeeless. The man's spite was magnificent once cornered with blackmail. 

“Anyway, we’re very much off track and I have homework you know,”

“Right, back to Trigger,” The sooner he would get this over with, the better. The idea was risque and Aizawa still didn’t agree to it fully. Tuskauchi himself wasn’t exactly happy to be bringing the kid into this but this could potentially kill two birds with one stone, hopefully in their favour. 

They didn’t need Yami falling into the wrong hands and being exploited for his smarts in a glass prison. Hawks was one hero too many in the system. If Tsukauchi had the right suspicions about what the Hero Commission was doing with putting Yami as their number one priority, that was. He couldn't be sure but the higher-up's movement was suspicious if anything. 

“It’s no secret you’re good at analysis and gathering information,” 

“Obviously,”

“What I share right now is private so any information leaked will just land you in prison faster,” Despite wishing not to send a kid there if it was possible he needed full cooperation and trust between them for this to work. 

“Noted. What’s up detective,” Izuku nodded his head, getting off the crate he’d been sitting on and his face falling into a more serious expression. 

“There has been information on the largest shipment of Trigger yet, but we have no idea who or how,” Tsukuachi watched the kid tense. Interesting. 

“And you want me to find that out?” He raised his eyebrow shifting in his place. 

Had they stumbled upon something that kid knew about more than he should have? Or was this purely a coincidence that the kid seemed to change his whole behaviour after hearing this?

Tsukauchi hoped that it was the latter but in situations like these it never was and to his experience, it also didn’t mean there would be an entirely positive outcome from the conclusion. He only had to hope the kid would be cooperative and would let them know if he knew something that could potentially endanger them or himself for that matter. But based on what Aizawa had told him the kid had no regard for his own safety more often than, which was a lot, too much to be healthy. Especially when the healthy number was zero and the kid was spiking well above a hundred for endangering himself. 

Tsukauchi knew the heached would be permanent for the next few weeks. Much more than it already was. He only hoped there would be a breakthrough either with Trigger or Izuku. Something that would ease his mind at least a little bit. 

“Yes,” Tuskuahci nodded, watching Izuku pull out a small notebook pen in hand and scribble something down before closing it shut and putting it away from sight as fast as it appeared. Whatever he had written down wasn’t for Tsukauchi to know or have the inkling to ask about. 

“Seems easy enough,” The kid shrugged, flicking his gaze to the side. 

“Anything you can give us right now?” 

“No,” Tsukauchi wished he hadn't used his quirk as the answer registered as a lie. 

“Are you sure Izuku?” He tried again. Shouldn't have, in hindsight. 

“Detective, if you’re going to use your quirk at least don’t make it obvious,” Izuku said in annoyance. So easily catching him in his act. 

“I see you can’t be easily fooled,” The kid could easily read between the lines. He truly was smart and quick-witted. It was sad that the kid had gone down the darker path of life. 

“I may be a kid but I'm still a villain, though somehow it doesn't make sense to me how am I better than a trained professional to figure this out. Information is available to everyone if they know where to search” That was true. It was highly unprofessional to use criminals for their own benefit, no less a kid sending him back to the place they were trying hard to get him out of for personal benefit. It could easily backfire in their faces and Tsukauchi knew it was more likely than not, nothing really went smoothly in the years he worked as a police officer and eventually a detective. Nothing at all. 

“I have a feeling you’re not telling me something Tsukuachi and for the record, I don't like liars,” 

“Likewise,” Was all Tsukauchi said with a smile on his face, jabbing right back at Yami who smiled too. 

“Then I guess we have no reason to talk anymore, I really do have homework,” The kid walked to the edge of the roof, giving Tsukauchi a heart attack right then and there as he jumped. Turned out there was a fire escape. Tsukauchi kicked his own ass for not being logical that the majority of the cities had those, a broken one but one nonetheless. 

“Have a nice night Tsukauchi I'll get back to you with information within a week,” That was far too soon for the kid to even rest. 

“I'll look forward to hearing from you, Yami,” Tsukauchi nodded, watching as the kid started climbing down but stopped. 

“Say hi to Eraserhead,” He grinned and disappeared into the night. 

“Will do,” After a minute, Tsukauchi sighed. 

“He doesn't trust me,” Eraserhead landed by his side, silent, startling Tsukauchi. 

“I expected that,” He took off his hat, passing it between his hands. 

“He knows what he’s doing,” Or maybe he was in the ‘industry’ so to speak long enough to make a face that he knew when in reality he was just acting. Which he couldn't rule out but that was less plausible. 

“If he didn’t he wouldn't be there,” 

“He’d make a great investigator or maybe the ‘bad cop’,” He could imagine the kid talking down a criminal. He could see himself working alongside him. He was smart. He was logical. He was a lot of things but free was none of those and it hurt Tsukauchi to put the kid in this position. He only hoped that the Trigger trade was really nothing more than a rumour. One that the kid would surprise with during their next meeting and that they could set the plan in motion to get the kid to safety. A deal they’ve been working on for some time. Tsukauchi just hoped his idea would work.

“I'll be sure to tell him,”

“He said hi by the way,”

“Brat couldn’t circle the building,” Tsukauchi laughed at Erasehead's tired sigh, not missing his soft smile either. 

“I worry that this will blow in our faces and if you tell me you told me so I will put my coffee maker into a safe,” Tsukauchi grinned as the hero waved him off. The knot in his throat was tight despite the lightness of the night. He could only hope for his safety. 

“How's the investigation going on?” Yagi entered his office with tired steps and a stack of papers in his hands which was never a good sign if Tsukauchi had to base it on his experience. It simply meant more work. He loved his job of course but at some point, he just wanted to crash into his bed and not think about an almost fifteen-year-old kid causing chaos every other night. 

“Oh you know like any other day,” Tsukauchi mumbled, checking that yes it was almost his time to go home but something told him he’d be stuck overtime tonight, like he had been for the past month. 

“You look dead on your feet,” Yagi chuckled, settling down on the chair before the table briefly wincing. Tsukuachi extended a napkin when Yagi tried to wipe away the trail of blood on the corner of his mouth. 

“Are you here to make fun of me or do you have something nice to say?” 

“I think Aizawa-san needs to be here for this,” Tsukuachi raised his eyebrow. Eraserhead? Why would Yagi need Aizawa? As far as the underground hero knew Yagi was just a good friend of Tsukauchis, accidentally having met Izuku before, not that he was All Might. Did Yagi have more information on Izuku? 

“He should be swinging by any minute,” Aizawa usually stopped by around the time Tsukuahci got off his shift. 

“Speak of the devil,” The door swung open, Aizawa raising his eyebrow at Yagi smiling at him. The hero was far beyond amused and flicked his gaze to Tsukauchi in question. He could only shrug hoping that Yagi would explain why he was here and why there was a U.A. sigil on the papers he had brought. 

“Aizawa-san nice to meet you again,” Yagi stood up, extending his hand for a handshake that Aizawa only eyed, nodding to him briefly.

“Yagi,” 

“Aizawa-san have you heard anything from Nezu?” Tsukauchi raised his eyebrows. Nezu? Why would Yagi bring up Nezu? Now the papers with the U.A. sigil seemed much more unsettling. Nezu was smart but also very creepy. 

“What is the rat planning,” Aizawa narrowed his eyes as Yagi sighed. 

“I'm not sure how to address this, Nezu has made it quite clear that he knows what is going on with the investigation and has come up with a proposal,” Tsukauchi pinched the bridge of his nose, this was not good. Whatever Nezu planned was obviously in the favour of the U.A. and would most likely put them in a tight spot. Unless the principal knew something they didn't, which was highly likely as the mammal had a quirk that heightened his IQ. In any case, whatever was his proposal Tsukauchi knew they would have no choice but to agree to it. 

“And why the heck he’d speak to you about it first over me when he should know I'm more involved in this matter,” Aizawa growled out, his eyes flashing briefly. Yagi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile at the hero but the smile came off lopsided. 

“Perhaps of your biases young Aizawa,” Tsukauchi could hear the pin drop. 

“My biases-”

“Calm down, Aizawa, let’s hear what Toshinori has to say,” Tsukauchi stood, effectively stopping the daggers that Aizawa was throwing at Yagi with his glare. He knew Eraserhead wasn’t exactly fond of Yagi but he could at least be professional about it. Though Tsukuachi never saw the man as unnecessarily nice to those he disliked. As he once said there was no use acting nice to people and wasting energy. 

“Thank you Tsukauchi,”

“But first I believe we all should sit down, I'm not sure how much you’d like his suggestion,” Yagi passed papers to Aizawa who quickly skimmed through them his frown depending on every page. Tsukauchi wandered off to his side trying to catch what was it about his heart jumping. Nezu clearly knew something they didn’t. 

“I'll be sure to speak to him on Monday,” Aizawa muttered, stopping at the last page before snapping the papers and handing them to Tsukuachi. 

“Oh dear, maybe I should accept his proposal,” Tsukauchi ran his fingers through his hair. Why did he work as a detective? Who told him to work as a detective? Never-ending headache was enough to consider resigning. 

" He's on the move, " Voice filtered through the earpiece. 

"Noted,"

" Don't forget Glaze -" He sighed, this woman was getting on his nerves. 

"Yeah, yeah I know, not like he'd die anyway,” Yami was one tough cookie. It would be easy to grab the kid and go, kill him if he struggled too much. 

"No need to traumatize the kid more than necessary, " Glaze snorted. 

"When had the government ever thought about someone's well-being" 

" Hero commission is all about having our employees in their best condition and that will extend to our dear Yami as well ," He hummed. The Hero Commision really wanted Yami under their wing. It would destroy the underground but if it brought back what Yami had stolen from Glaze he wouldn’t mind building up on the ruins. The current system and the current leaders were simple sacrifices for Galze’s glory. His stolen glory. Too bad he couldn't make Yami pay for that. 

"Employees? Don't make me laugh,"

" Do you have a critique you wish to inform us about ?" 

"No, no, it's not worth it," No need to anger them more than they already were. Who knew one kid would have them on their toes? 

" Then keep your mouth shut or you'll end up like your partner ," Glaze clicked his tongue, shutting off the com and watching Yami wander into a bar. Wasn’t that the one he beat the guy up at? Whatever. He just had to catch the kid. 

Chapter Text

When Izuku had entered the bar with the intention to come out unnoticed but filled to the brim with information he had no want to cause a scene. 

Really he was just entering to listen to some people talking and hopefully gather more information about any other large shipment happening in the underground. Because he was very much afraid that the shipment the detective was talking about was direct talk about Overhaul and their deal. Which unfortunately was his biggest suspicion. 

He had an inkling the man knew along with Aizawa and that Izuku had fucked up majorly. Somewhere, somehow he had slipped up so badly now he was paying the consequences of his tardiness by playing both sides on the same case. 

Which was to be expected sooner or later but he hoped that it would later. Much later. 

In any case, he needed the information, badly. And even if he didn’t catch anything about another shipment going on it still would be useful to listen to gossip, chatter, whatever he could call it. It had been quite a while since he’d done this, far too preoccupied with trying not to go insane and accept the fact that he saw Eraserhead as some sort of parental figure, to really pay attention to what was essentially the core of his job. 

It would be a lot easier if the thought of Aizawa being something more than a hero wasn’t a load of bull crap his mind threw at him at the slightest minor inconvenience that any kid his age would need their parents for. He didn’t like to dwell on the idea much even if the man bought his sandwiches at any given time. Even if Izuku could, to a certain level see where Shinsou was coming from. But only a tiny bit. 

Focusing on reality, to a certain degree, enough to focus on what he came there to do, Izuku called off for some whiskey. 

The bartender raised his eyebrow at Izuku knowing damn well he was a kid, a minor asking for alcohol in such early hours of the night. But these bars had no policy about underage drinking, so no one could actually say anything about him drinking. Seriously, they did not care as they literally hosted criminals and villains. It would be a bit hypocritical to kick him out because he wanted some alcohol not because he killed a man some weeks before. 

See how weird that sounded, right? The villain world sometimes made no sense to Izuku but he was not one to complain when essentially he was sure that in the next few weeks, he’d be off the streets anyway. Not by his own will that is, but he had a feeling something was bound to happen. He wasn’t lucky enough to magically drop the attention of the best detective in their area nor was Aizawa ever going to leave him alone to fend for himself. He was pretty much adopted by the guy. 

Though for now he rather enjoyed where he was, it was better to indulge in some of his more destructive habits before he was ridden of everything that kept him somewhat funny and filled to the brim with his special sparkle that was nothing more than mentally ill mindset and energy drinks. 

It had been a while since Izuku indulged in alcohol though. It was not his favourite thing, he liked energy drinks far better. They were far better tasting, sweet and sparkly inside his mouth and actually gave him energy and did not make the world fuzzy and mind woozy. But having a quirk that literally ran everything through his system with the speed of light alcohol was a nice way to get his blood warm though. It may not be something that he was enjoying a lot but it was nice. And if he could afford it before adults told him no then why not? 

Izuku leaned on his hand, cheek squished beneath his mask, sloshing the drink around in his glass. Eyes flicking to the side of the counter he was sitting at, the long table of the bar empty. 

No one had sat down near him which was to be expected after getting recognised. He was sure that at least ninety per cent of people in this bar knew who the fuck was he. One of the reasons a specific conversation caught his attention. It shouldn't have surprised him but something about the way they talked had Izuku gritting his teeth and setting his drink down. 

“Hey, isn't that Yami?” Sure as hell was. Black hair, black mask and toxic red eyes. A straight-up tell if anything especially if the posters about him being wanted are still hung around the streets no matter how many times Izuku ripped those off the time he came upon them. They should have at least tried with the picture. He looked ugly as hell in those. But it was fairly obvious to anyone who knew how he looked. Even in their time of age when barely humanoid creatures walked the earth and were the norm, if a face circulated around long enough almost everyone would have it memorised.  

“That kid? Isn’t he someone random?” Izuku shifted on his seat, his bat tipping slightly in his lap. Yeah, definitely a random kid with a bat in his hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. If Izuku wasn't a seasoned villain he'd run at seeing someone like that. 

He hadn’t gone for a terrifying image when he started but eventually, he kinda acquired one. It was probably more because the amount of information he had was trying to some not because he walked around with a bat permanently stained with blood in its creases. Now a palm scorched on the side of it to boot. 

“No I’m pretty sure that’s Yami, I heard some nasty rumours about him, but he's good at his job so no one really says anything,” Izuku could appreciate the honesty in the guy's words.

He knew he had enough of a reputation to make people stay away because otherwise, he’d be dead meat before stepping outside his apartment multiple times. 

People liked to get rid of pests like him fast but when that pest information could easily destroy their lives in mere seconds they stayed away. It was like bug repellant. Just know the name, where they lived and how to get rid of them with a swipe of his hand and he was set. Most of the time.

Although more often than not he just bluffed his way through shit like that. He could never know everything no matter how much he tried. Half of the time he was just analyzing on the go and guessing. It was not his fault the people were predictable and easy to fool. 

“What did you hear?” Izuku licked his lip. What did they hear? He was intrigued in case something new came up. Gossip was interesting but gossip about yourself? That was entirely another case of ‘give me more’. 

“Apparently he killed someone, beat to death or something,” Oh well, old news. Izuku’s interest went down immediately. He would have left the guys alone if not for the immediate offence to his stature. 

“With twig arms like that? No way,” Izuku scoffed. 

He didn't have twig arms thank you very much, he may have worn a big ass hoodie that made him look smaller but that was an aesthetic choice to make opponents underestimate him. He had enough muscle packed underneath all that to hold his own for a few minutes.

Despite his quirk actually stunning his ability to buff up -something he wanted to look through at some point but that would have to wait till that time when he was a free teenager only occupied by school and demanding parents and their chores, which would be effectively never- he was fairly decently filled out with muscle. Would be much more if not many other factors in his life. 

“Yes, I’m telling you, he killed someone, plus he’s working with the yakuza, so better not mess with him,” Izuku gritted his teeth. Okay, that was far too much for them to know, for anyone not included to know. 

Izuku grumbled under his breath looking at the guys, one small guy and one big guy so obviously whispering that half of the bar was looking at them. More heads rose at the mention of yakuza. 

Fucking fantastic. 

“If you want to talk gossip please shut the fuck up so I don’t hear you,” Or anyone else in this goddamn bar. Izuku hissed, drawing attention to himself. 

“Hey kid, c'mon take it easy,” The smaller guy laughed. “We’re just talking rumours,” Izuku rolled his eyes. 

“Rumors or not, if you wanted to get the ‘beat the shit out of a guy’ special could’ve just asked, I'm trying to work here,” Izuku waved his hand around, settling on the bat in his lap. The bartender cleared his throat, plucking the almost empty glass Izuku left behind as he stood up. He was done with that anyway. The guy behind the bar was throwing him a glance not to destroy anything. Yeah, yeah whatever. 

“Bars’ a free space, a kid like you shouldn't be even here,” The bigger guy said, making some other people agree. Izuku sighed of course bars were mostly a neutral space but this one in fact wasn’t. Unless someone rented those back rooms Izuku once crashed into. A bad memory honestly. If he wanted to beat the shit out of the guy he could, which was a good idea, to be honest. Obviously, the guy knew something, a tattoo on his arm signifying him being a part of a high-end gang of sorts. Actually, if Izuku looked a little bit longer he would recognise the tattoo but he didn’t until later. 

And two he was just plain annoying and reminding people that he was capable of gathering information in many ways would be nice. His reputation had been wacky as of late. 

“Really now, I didn’t know villains had manners to check IDs for bars,” 

“You’re getting on my nerves,” The bigger guy rose from his seat, towering over Izuku easily.  

“Hey man, calm down, you don’t want to anger him,” The smaller guy who seemed to be the smarter of the two tried to stop the thug nearing Izuku but to no avail. Which was stupid. If they heard the rumours the guy should have at least hesitated before attacking Izuku but of course, he didn’t, just went straight for Izuku's head like it was worth nothing.  

“Whatever he’s just a scrawny twelve-year-old,” The bigger laughed, earning a hefty chuckle from the other patrons of the bar. Izuku was sure he heard the bartender sigh and mumble something about the previous time Izuku had been here bleeding out. It seems the bartender was the only one who remembered that time. Also a case of his causing havoc inside the bar. It wasn't intentional that time, really he was running more on an adrenaline rush and dropping blood levels. This time though? Every move and hit had been deliberate.  

“Seriously, if you don't shut up I will have to apologize to the bartender for causing a scene,” Izuku gripped his bat smiling under his mask. the sides of his crinkled enough for the smaller guy to gulp and try to stop his friend, but the guy brushed him off anyway.  

“Think you can take me?”

“I know I can,” Okay Izuku wasn’t sure if he could, bluffing as usual. The guy most likely had a quirk that he could be confident in enough to take care of a kid like him. Which either meant he was a douche who didn’t care that he’d hit a kid or he was just weak enough to not be able to take a grown man comfortably. Which wasn’t entirely the best outcome either way because Izuku would have to plan around it. He didn’t know the guy's quirk, though, for that to be done quickly enough. He could only hope the guy was an idiot and would do those long-ass preparations before actually hitting him. 

“Wanna bet on it?” Izuku heard people shifting in their steps whispering among themselves. Why not make this fight a little bit more like a show, right? If he was winning he was winning with flair. Or if he was going down at least he could humiliate the thug by saying he beat up a scrawny kid that was many times smaller than him. Though he didn’t want to lose here. 

“Sure what do you want, not that you'll get it,” The thug grinned at him, eyes flashing with so much confidence Izuku wanted to gag. The guy seriously thought the fight would be easy. 

“Information, simple,” 

“Heh fine, for the record I want all the money you have, I bet the yakuza pay a lot,” Izuku hummed. That was reasonable. Maybe the thug wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. 

“Fine by me,”

“This will be easy, sorry kid, but this one will hurt,” The man swung back his fist going red. 

“Oh dear me,” Izuku jumped back landing on his hand and springing back to his feet as the thug hit the ground with his fist leaving a sizable dent in the floor. As he thought, something akin to strength enchantment. Although the colour of his fist was worrying. It hadn’t been heat as the wooden floor wasn't impacted in a way fire would. Maybe he was strengthening his muscles? Hence the colour, like swelling them. He knew another guy who could do it but much more impressively. This was nothing but a child's play compared to that guy's quirk.  

“Stay still,” The thug growled and ran at him. Izuku sidestepped the punch and swung his bat hitting the guy in his rear making him stumble. 

“No thank you,” Izuku grinned as the guy lunged for him. Izuku sucked in a breath as he slid across the floor under a table, rolling out when the guy smashed into it. Izuku took a stool he’d been sitting on and chucked it at the guy who growled, throwing it away.

Izuku licked his lips watching the guy seething and charging up, was that a charge up or a simple showcasing of power, his fist. Izuku narrowed his eyes as he suddenly stepped forward, reaching out for Izuku with no intention to hit but rather snag him. Izuku pushed with his bat to the side hissing when the guy grazed his side. Apparently, even if he wasn’t hitting his fist still held some power. 

“Hey don't tear my hoodie, I won't be responsible for my actions if you happen to put a hole in it,” Izuku pushed himself against the wall, swinging his bat catching the thug in his leg and making him trip enough for Izuku to get on top of another table. 

“Shut up and fight,” The thug stared at him down, even if Izuku was on a table he was still shorter than the guy. Curse his genes. He hoped puberty would hit him well at some point. 

“What do you mean I am, didn’t you know dodging and evading are the basic skills of fighting or the big brute brain of yours can't comprehend such things?” 

“Little shit,” 

The man lunged for him. Izuku jumped in the air watching with satisfaction as the guy crashed into the table, staying on the ground this time. There was only so much a person's body could take before it needed a few seconds to recharge before getting up. Izuku would know. He used that information to step on the guy's hand, crushing it beneath his almost pathetic weight, raising his arms high with the bat in them. 

“Sorry, but I need my information,” Izuku hit his bat against the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him. At least the guy would stay down long enough for Izuku to make a point. 

“And'” Next hit followed his knee that cracked under the pressure. Izuku was surprised he had enough strength to do so. His body felt weird. 

“You’re” The Next one went to his other knee which sadly didn’t crack. 

“Gonna,” His stomach.

“Give,” Jaw. 

“It,” Ribs. 

“To,” Then, the cracked knee again. 

“Me,” Izuku hit the man's ribs again. Taking a deep breath his arms aching from the sudden activity, trembling very much present as he stepped off the guy's hand. 

“Okay that was one chair too many broken,” Izuku winced at the stool he had been sitting on previously broken in pieces on the other end of the bar and two tables. He’d have to tip the bartender.  

“I didn't really count the hits properly, I hope you can still talk because we’re going to have a long chat,” Izuku wiped his forehead. 

“Fucker,” The thug growled out trying to get up but Izuku jabbed his bat onto the man's bad knee earning a loud yelp from him. He stepped on the man's ribs kneeling, looking straight into the guy's eyes.

“My pleasure,” Izuku chuckled as the man heaved, gritting his teeth 

“Now listen closely. You’re gonna tell me all you know about that shipment of Trigger you have recently received. Leave a single word out and this will feel like child's play,” Izuku tapped the man's knee again, finger flicking against the symbol on the man's bicep. He knew where he recognised that one. It was the gang he’d talked to Aizawa about. One that had been apprehended recently but it seemed that not all of them had been captured. 

He had no clue if the guys were even dealing with Trigger anymore and if any shipments were happening but it was worth a shot. Who knew maybe the guy would have something to tell. Maybe something about Overhaul that he had no idea about.  

Izuku stood up flicking his gaze to the people staring at him

“What are you all looking at? Want the same dish?” He growled out, wiping the blood from his bat onto his pants. He didn’t touch the hoodie. It was Eraserhead’s after all. The thug had come too close to ripping it as it was. 

“Damn it, that hurt,” Izuku rubbed his side with a pout forming on his lips and sat down with the thug sitting down near him albeit he could barely sit. Well, at least the guy had the decency to accept the fact that he lost and not act like some douchebags he’d beaten up in alleys before who didn’t know anything about the code of honour. 

He just hoped this beating would get something useful for him. 

“Nezu,” Aizawa stormed into the office and met with the principal who was smiling at him, most likely expecting Aizawa to come by. 

“Aizawa, how nice to see you this early in the morning,” The rat nodded at him, raising a cup with the question if he wanted tea. Aizawa grumbled, saying that he didn’t want any goddamn tea. He wanted answers instead. And he wouldn't leave unless he got them.  

“What is the meaning of this,” Aizawa slapped the papers Yagi had brought in front of Nezu who hummed to himself. 

“I see Yagi-san has informed you about my proposal,” Aizawa rolled his eyes. He disliked how almost aloof Nezu could be. The rat was smart, his intelligence even without his quirk well above average. And yet he liked to play stupid like others had the upper hand whenever they were talking to the principal. Aizawa wasn’t one of them though He knew Nezu and Nezu was well aware that these ‘games’ didn’t work on Aizawa. And yet why would the principal insist on playing them each and every time Aizawa had no idea. 

“Are you insane? He's not gonna accept it,” Aizawa growled out. 

“I assure you Aizawa he will,” Nezu took a sip of his tea with a smile on his lips. As if it was that easy. Izuku wouldn't think so and maybe that’s what Nezu didn’t account for in his plans. Izuku was stubborn and always had things his way if the recent development had anything to go by. The kid wouldn't put himself in a spot where he would have no chance to escape from. He wasn’t stupid enough to do so. 

“What makes you think so,” 

“He doesn't need to know all of the terms,” He knew it. Of course, Nezu would leave out bits and pieces of information to trick the kid. Of course, of course, what else did he expect here?  

“I'm not lying to him,” He didn’t want to lead the kid around. Especially if he’s put so tightly into the equation. It would break the kids' already fragile trust into pieces never to be recovered. Who knew maybe that would send him over the edge for the last time. He didn’t want to see the sight ever again. The utter despair and agony. His screams tended to echo in Aizawa's ears every time he went to bed to this day. It would be a long time before he could go to sleep without trembling and Hizashi having to hold him.  

“That’s why I brought up this with Yagi first instead of you,” Aizawa raised his eyebrow. What would the skeleton of a man have to do with the kid besides that one time they met? Which was still a huge red mark in Aizawa's mind. He needed to find out more about it. Perhaps he could ask Izuku about it, hoping that it was nothing traumatic. 

“What does Yagi have to do with anything here, he barely knows the kid,” And yet Nezu brought this up with him rather than with Aizawa. This was another red flag because how the hell did Yagi know Nezu in the first place, and be close enough for the rat to talk to him first instead of Aizawa? Who in Nezu’s own equation was the damn key. 

“Guilt,” 

“I still don't agree with this,” Fuck Yagi's feelings, in the grand scheme of things they had to consider no one but Izuku. Yet it felt like a game. Pass the torch and see when it goes out. Only the torch was an unstable teenager with a chronic want to jump off a roof. What had he gotten himself into? 

“As much as I understand your worries Aizawa, I believe we don't really have much of a choice here, he is in no position to choose,”  He simply wasn’t given the choice in the first place. 

“I'll let him know it was your idea when he finds out,” Nezu’s face twisted for the briefest of moments and Aizawa had the inkling that Nezu wasn’t telling everything to them. He never was when it came to his plans and ideas but then he simply cackled in his office. To have a look of guilt was so unfamiliar on his face. Aizawa closed his eyes for a brief second, this probably was far bigger than just the investigation or Nezu. 

“Don't be so mean Aizawa-san, I'm sure he’ll be more than happy to cause chaos here rather than on the streets,” The look of guilt gone, Nezu smiled at him finishing his cup of tea and pouring another one. 

“You’re underestimating him,” Izuku knew how to cause chaos and maybe he knew how to do it a little too well. The industry wouldn't stand him. If he didn’t destroy it first with his own hands. 

“Am I?”

“I haven't slept enough to play your games,” Aizawa turned around reaching for the door when Nezu chuckled. 

“What game are you talking about Aizawa-san, the board is only being set,”

“Cryptic rat,” He slammed the door shut, a tight feeling settling in his chest. 

“Hey Shinsou, I can't meet up tonight,” Izuku spoke the moment Shinsou picked up his phone. 

“Are you getting your deserved hours of sleep or fucking around?” Izuku snorted. When was he ever catching up on sleep, unless he absolutely had to as his body was giving out? 

“I'm in Hosu right now don’t know if I'll make it to our meeting spot in twenty minutes,” Shinsou was probably close to hearing out which made Izuku wince. He should have called earlier so his friend wouldn't have to go through trouble getting ready. But it wasn’t the first or the last time he bailed out of their meetings for whatever reason. More often than not associated with Yami or a breakdown here and there. Not that Shinsou never called him saying he wasn't feeling like getting out of his bed when he was surrounded by the army of cats his household seemed to own. Which was a valid as fuck reason in his mind so he didn’t complain. Shinsou never seemed to mind either. Understanding as always but always a worry rat that Izuku would get himself hurt or something. Ha. 

“What are you doing in Hosu ?” The worry slipped into his voice as usual. It was adorable and really nice of Shinosu but he didn’t know what sit Izuku tended to get up to almost daily so it was a bit misplaced not that he knew. Izuku hoped to keep his vigilantism, could he call it that anymore, to himself? Unless he was being sent to the prison then at least he would want to snap a picture for Shinsou to laugh at. 

“Let's not talk about details,” He heard a low groan from Shinsou that screamed that Izuu needed to stop once in his life with his bullshit. Right back at his friend's thought. 

“ You know what I don't want to know, ” The teen mumbled and Izuku laughed on the rooftop he was perched upon. Wind blowing in his face. Who knew Hosu was far windier than Musutafu? Or maybe it was just the weather. It seemed that it would rain soon. 

“That might be the best choice,”

“ Be safe, ” Shinsou clicked his tone when Izuku laughed again. 

“Thanks, Dad,”

“ Shut up and tell that to Eraserhead, ” Not with this again 

“Bo-hoo never,”

“ Not even denying that you'd call him dad ,” Izuku rolled his eyes. Whatever. 

“Ah-stop messing with my head,”

“ Sorry Mido best friend duties, ” Best friend duties indeed. He would need to buy Shinsou an unlimited amount of coffee for putting up with his bullshit. 

“My best friend duties prepare me to hang up on you,”

“ Understandable. Have a good night ,”

“You too, please go to sleep, we don't need two sleep-deprived idiots,” They both knew that was impossible but Shinsou still laughed right into his phone, loud and gross but Izuku smiled. 

“ Too late my guy ,” Izuku put his phone away, listening to the blaring sirens somewhere on the other side of the city and sighed. If he wanted information tonight and got home by morning he would have to move fast. He just hoped that he would have lucked out this time and not end up bleeding out on the roof a few hours later. but luck was never on his side. 

Chapter Text

In conclusion, Izuku really needed to be more careful and plan his actions in a way that didn’t send him to a near grave every time. Sure he’s all about dying and leaving the chaos that is the living world but he has things he wants to accomplish. And dying was not really a way to do anything right. Well maybe it was but definitely not now, an hour from his home by a train bleeding out on a rooftop. Weirdly enough that was becoming a normal occurrence for him. Both bleeding out and the rooftop part. 

Eraserhead would have a heart attack if he saw him there. And maybe well, maybe he eventually called him because slipping in and out of consciousness wasn’t ideal at all. He could almost hear Dabi laughing at him, reminding him that he didn’t have his ‘picking up kid from almost dying’ friend anymore. Which sucked. Big time.  

But this was a consequence of his own stupid actions. Actions that, to be honest, weren’t that stupid he simply had the worst luck as stated many times before. 

Somehow he had managed to stumble upon a hero, a chief of the police and a villain all in one night. Even worse was that the said villain saved him from the first two. Although saved was a vague word. Companionship and all that only if the villain wasn’t the hero killer Stain with distaste for kids. Sure the man didn’t kill him but he was damn close. 

But Izuku wasn’t there for him, or a hero or a shit stain of a police chief with a mug of an actual dog and hate towards Izuku like no other. For reasons but c’mon. Honestly, what did he do to that guy, dog, whatever? In any case, he had at least stumbled upon a crowd of thugs, before all the fiasco and heard some interesting things about his mission. 

Mission Tsukauchi gave him most likely with the idea in mind that Izuku would slip up and do something that would have him caught. Sure the man worked with Aizawa, a guy who genuinely wanted to help Izuku but he was a paranoid almost fifteen-year-old whose finals were coming up. So he couldn't exactly trust Tsukauchi especially when it came to stuff like this. 

Investigation and so on was his thing. Tsukauchi knew that. He obviously used it to his advantage to gain both needed information for whatever Trigger supply some guys were shipping somewhere and potentially catch the currently most wanted villain slash criminal. Although he wasn’t sure he could correlate those two adjectives towards himself in a way that made sense. Since he didn't actively use his quirk in a way that harmed others which was the essential part of being a villain. And he was far more involved to be a simple criminal. It was hard to classify him.  

Little had he known how much that would help him in the future. 

Besides that. 

Izuku had managed to gather enough information to release how deep of a hole he’d gotten himself into. Probably dug it out himself with the shit he pulled here and there. But acknowledging the fact that the shipment Tsukauchi was talking about and the shipment Overhaul wanted to do, next week, were the same. 

Essentially putting Izuku in a position that posed a threat from both sides of the law. If he fucked up he’d be either dead or behind bars and at this point, he wasn’t sure which one he preferred better. Neither was ideal and neither lessened any sort of hatred he managed to develop towards himself in the last few weeks. 

He really hated what he was doing right now. Drug dealing wasn’t his thing from the start and it was obvious why he had helped the police force to take down small gangs. But no, of course, he had to help Overhaul, the stupid yakuza leader and put himself in a position he had no idea how to get out of. Typical Izuku behaviour. 

And Izuku assumed Tsukauchi knew as much. That’s why he asked. Izuku had to give props to the man for pushing Izuku into a corner. 

And in the end, he wasn't sure what to report to Tsukauchi in regards to the shipment. He had a lot of information that would help them take it down but Overhaul still waited for Izuku to finalize the plan he had given earlier. One he had managed to write in three hours before the meeting because he might have totally forgotten about it in all of the mumbo jumbo of depression and suicidal episodes. 

But that’s totally not something he didn’t expect from himself. At least Overhaul seemed okay with the plans. Only asking, more like threatening, for additional safety measures, the patrol routes of the surrounding heroes. Even possible weather complications. Did the fucking bird man not know how to look up the news or something? Izuku really disliked working for him but oh god the money. He still had to wait for the other half. And if he didn’t finish the deal they would want money back and Izuku would have to disappoint them in not having an already sizable chunk of it. 

Living was expensive.  

Back to being attacked by a hero and all. Izuku hadn't really paid much attention when he was walking around the alleyways of Hosu. He was occupied by trying to think how to both overthrow Overhaul and get out of the police clutches when some thug ran into him effectively knocking him over. 

Fun, right? Wrong. 

Very much wrong when a man two times his size, what was with people being so fucking big, fell on top of him. Izuku couldn't breathe from being crushed by the guy so he tried to shimmy his way out from underneath him. Turned out the guy had knocked himself out by tripping and pretty much cracking his skull against the pavement if the blood had anything to go by. Total idiot. 

Izuku sighed, pulling his leg. It was fucking stuck and if his ears didn’t deceive him there were very familiar police sirens in the background, approaching fast and loud. Izuku didn’t want to deal with this. It would be fine and dandy if he wasn't in his fucking Yami gear and his face hadn’t been plastered all over the city weeks prior courtesy of the government standing as far as he knew. 

What the fuck did they even want with him huh?

“Stop, villain!” A voice called out and Izuku groaned. A hero. Just great. If he had to deal with some random police officers he could maybe get away because he doubted all of them remembered the face of some kid but if a hero approached then he was fucked. A kid with some big cash to his name was well remembered. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Izuku grunted out loud. Stealth be damned, he dug his bat into the meat of the man's shoulder and pushed with all his might, which wasn’t that much but the thug moved and Izuku could feel blood returning to his leg. He was finally getting out. Though it wasn't fast enough for him to make a safe retreat. 

“Put down your weapon villain,”

“Oh for the love of-,” Izuku wanted to scream. He glanced at the hero. Manual. He wasn't anyone big but he had a solid agency and had been around for years and was almost a veteran in the hero industry. It didn’t take much to be one with how many heroes died young in the line of duty. A big flaw in the system as their deaths were glorified each and every time. 

“I'm not a villain,” Izuku hissed, you know like a liar, finally pulling his leg out. He could feel it tingling with blood getting back into his limb. He knew that if he tried to stand up right now he would be either hella wobbly or would go back down. He hated the numb feeling. 

Izuku watched Manual’s eyes shift from the thug on the ground bleeding out then back to Izuku who was sitting on the ground, his legs extended out in a manner that made him look way younger than he was. He knew he was small but damn it knowing the hero thought he was twelve or something hurt. 

It didn’t look as bad as it looked. Head injuries bleed a lot and the thug may have knocked himself against something sharp that he bleed a lot. Izuku would worry but he didn’t know the guy and he had no compassion towards those who wanted to crush him with their body at midnight. He wasn't a fan of being crushed. At all. No, thank you. Violent hugs were not his thing. 

“Kid, sorry but this is a very obvious crime scene,” Izuku grumbled under his breath. He had to give credit to Manual for not being entirely stupid and dismissive but also when did heroes blame kids right from the start? He was the victim here, thank you very much. 

“The thug ran into me and knocked himself out, for the record he almost crushed me here, do you see my twig arms? How could I do anything to him?” Izuku waved his arms around and then pointed to the thug as if trying to prove his very obvious point here. Sure he could actually knock the guy out. It wouldn’t take that much, one good swing with his bat and bye-bye to the guy. But the hero didn’t need to know that. 

“He ran into you?”

“Yeah, straight on, no hesitation. Trampled me over like a bug,” Manual pulled a face. 

“Are you okay then kid?” He raised his eyebrow and Izuku shrugged. When was he ever alright? He licked his lips wondering what he should say here. He had an inkling that the hero would make him go give a statement and so far Manual hasn't recognised him which was a blessing. But if he had to give a statement sure one of the police force members would recognise him and if he had to take off his mask he would expose himself. Not ideal. 

“I'm fine, just a numb leg but it’s fine, I have to go though,” Izuku picked himself up, standing, glad that his legs didn’t shake at all. The blood was back into his limb feeling as good as new. 

“Hey wait, we should get you checked out by,” 

“Sorry no can do, gotta go do stupid teenager stuff and all,” Izuku winced at his own tone, too rushed to not seem suspicious. The hero raised his eyebrow and then furrowed it back down. 

“I’m sorry kid but according to the protocol I need to have you checked out, even if you’re not injured,” Izuku sighed. He wished the hero would do this like All Might did, just check that he’s awake and then he goes away. Not following the protocol at all. Which wasn’t right at all and Izuku still felt heated about it because what the fuck but right now he didn’t want to go through this. 

“I’m fine really, I know there’s protocol but it’s like midnight and mom will be mad if I stay out or get a call from the police that her kid got into an accident or something,” Izuku lied through his teeth but maybe the hero would bite and leave him to go. Unfortunately, this seemed to backfire. Hard. 

Instead of the hero nodding understanding he only grew more worried, eyes rocking all over Izuku for signs of something. Something he wasn't sure about but had a small inkling based on his response. He fucked up, didn’t he? He needed to learn how to talk to the police so as not to get caught or something. This was the second time already and he doubted Dabi travelled to Hosu tonight to save his ass again. 

“Is everything right at home kid? Why would your mother be mad at that?”

“Just you know she worries a lot and it’s a school night and I'm not even supposed to be out but I wanted to play with my friend so I snuck out. I would rather not wake her up right now,”

“I see, still, we can not call your mother but I would need to escort you home,” Shit. Izuku sighed, hearing multiple footsteps approaching. The police would eventually arrive and that time was right now. Izuku glanced at the thug with his feet still bleeding out. Didn’t the hero want to check up on the thug or did he not care at all?

“I’m sure the guy needs more medical attention than me,” Izuku kicked the thug in his shoulder, jostling his body slightly. Manual shifted his gaze to the man on the floor, eyes widening as if he just remembered this. Nevermind what he said about this hero and protocols he was still an idiot. 

“Manual!” Izuku was startled at a gruff voice coming from behind the hero. A mass of medics rushed towards the thug. Izuku took a few steps away from the crowd wondering how he could slip away unnoticed. Some of the medics glanced at him but since he had no injuries they dismissed him immediately. 

“Chief Tsuragamae!” Manual called back and Izuku choked on his own spit. It was a dog. A fucking dog who was the chief of the police. Izuku shouldn't be surprised at all. Musutafu did have Sansa the cat officer after all. But somehow the dog form was far more jarring. Perhaps it was the gruff voice of the man, dog, or woof that followed after acknowledgement. Izuku really needed to get out of here. 

“Everything alright, woof?” Izuku felt like he was dreaming. The guy really did say woof after almost every line. What was his life? 

“Yes chief, thought he-,” Izuku startled, pressing himself to the wall as Manual turned towards him along with the chief who narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t hear the rest of it as Izuku tried to take small steps away from there. If he ran they would chase him. He needed to be smart about it. 

“Who is this kid,” 

“I-uhm,” Izuku mumbled, “Just a random kid who uh- got run over by the villain, I’m fine though so I'll go,” Izuku was quick to assure the man when he seemed to open his mouth. The chief snapped his mouth shut taking big steps towards Izuku. Fuck. He had deliberately hidden in the shadows hoping the guy would let him go but it was the fucking chief he would recognise Izuku right away. 

“What’s your name, young man,” A mocking ‘woof’ followed and Izuku wanted to die. 

“Wouldn't that be Yami? By any chance,” The chief took a step closer lowering his voice, gaze hard. Izuku sighed. Right. Of course. 

“And if it was,” Izuku met his gaze. “By chance,” The man growled briefly. “Then what?” 

“I would love to have a chat with you,” The man said and immediately sent ten guys on him. Izuku ran. No idea where to or if he could outrun the guys but he ran. He heard Manual’s confused yell as the chief barker, quite literally, ordered to capture him. This was not his day. 

He stumbled through alleyways, turning left and right and hoping so that one of those turns wouldn’t lead him to a dead end. But of course. He was Izuku. If he wanted things to go his way he would have to sacrifice everything he owned and even then it was a fifty-fifty chance that something would not go as he wished. 

Unfortunately for him, he had taken a left turn and that was a dead end. He panted looking around the place frantically hoping to find a fire escape or something but to no avail. Only a small balcony that was far too up in the air. He heard voices coming from behind him about to turn into the alleyway. Fuck. 

Izuku turned around grabbing his bat tight. He had no other choice but to fight. He wasn’t a fighter though. He didn’t have any elements around him that he could use to come out a winner here. Sure he could take a few officers here and there but he had no idea what their quirks were. And the guys more often than not had tasers on them and if he knew anything about police officers they didn’t hesitate to use them on big-time criminals and villains. And Izuku was exactly that. So in the end he was fucking fucked. Like hard. Against a brick wall. Fuck this. 

An officer came at him and Izuku screamed, swimming his weapon hoping it would hit. It didn’t but the guy at least stumbled startled by his scream and missed with his taser. He knew they guys would bring those out. 

“Stop right there Yami, you are under arrest,”

“Why?!” Izuku screamed again, kicking his leg out and catching the one brave officer in the stomach, making him stumble back. Izuku winced at the crack his leg gave out. Was that a quirk? That was a quirk damn it.

“Not so fast Yami or you’ll break your leg,” The officer chuckled, rubbing his stomach. Izuku hummed, ignoring the pain that he felt through his leg, the one that had gone numb earlier and shifted his weight to the side preparing to dodge at any given moment. He was obvious as fuck but at this point, he had no idea what else to do. If he was going down he was going down fighting. At least it seems no one could tie him up like last time. That was interestingly enough traumatising and Izuku had enough of being restrained. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Izuku laughed, jumping back his leg giving an uncomfortable twinge at the moment. Two other officers joined the one in the front, one bringing up his fist and the other getting out the baton. It was old-fashioned but still effective. 

“C'mon, kid nice and easy. We don’t have to bring you any unnecessary harm,”

“Should have started with that but oh no let’s bring out a taser against a helpless kid instead,” Izuku rolled his eyes, licking his lips. Good, they should keep talking. The less fighting they were doing the more ideas Izuku could come up with to escape. 

“Helpless? Sorry kiddo but you’re far from helpless,” One of the officers with the baton snorted and Izuku smirked. He got that right. 

“Sorry, I guess you’re right,” Izuku laughed, shifting. The chief finally arrived at the scene, a gun in his hands. Fucking great. Izuku started to see that he had no idea how to get out of this. Was he really about to get arrested because a guy ran him over? Fantastic. Eraserhead would have a kick out of this. Who knew all it took to bring down the most wanted criminal was some random guy falling on top of the said criminal? Definitely not Izuku. 

“You’re cornered,” The chief called out, drawing attention to himself as Izuku shifted his eyes to the dog. Izuku wasn’t the biggest fan of dogs, preferring cats over anything but damn after this, he would have a huge aversion to them. 

“I’m not cornered, I’m Yami,” Izuku called, stunning the police into silence. His dumb humour was bound to get him shot based on the way the chief's finger twitched on his gun. If Izuku didn’t know any better he would have gotten offended with the lack of reaction. Aizawa would have at least sighed giving him a look that told him to shut up in the kindest way possible. The man was a softie. Tsukauchi probably would have laughed. 

“You are no fun chief,”

“Sorry Yami, I’m no Eraserhead or Tsukauchi who seem to have been blinded by your age,” Izuku scoffed. Sure those two were far softer to him than anyone else. And it was kind of unprofessional from their side, ok maybe more than unprofessional but it’s not like they didn't actively try to capture him either. They had the very intention to put him behind bars as far as he knows. 

“Don’t talk about things you have no idea about,” 

“I could say the same to you Yami, what are you going around snooping about Trigger? Isn’t that way out of your league?” Izuku narrowed his eyes. Why does the guy know so fucking much? Did he have a mole among the bad guys who supplied him with every little detail, every little move Izuku made? He had barely made any appearance in the city but the chief was already on him as it was. If he got out of this he would need to be far more careful. If. Because it didn’t seem plausible anymore. 

“Get out of my business mutt,” Izuku clicked his tongue regretting it the moment he said as the man growled and the officers moved. Well, fuck it. Izuku ducked under the officer's arm, cracking his bat against his ribs, earning a pained yelp. He felt a tug on his hoodie as another officer grabbed a hold of him. Izuku slipped out of the garment very much glad that it was one of his least favourite ones. He almost got caught in the neckline, but these were desperate measures. He slid out rolling out of the way and blocking an incoming hit. 

The fights with Shinsou were paying off. Repetitive movements of throwing one over the shoulder and blocking hits seemed to feel like second nature to him now. But he couldn't keep this up at all. After all, he wasn't a trained fighter, these were just instincts more or less and eventually, those ran out. 

A knife zipped past, cutting Izuku’s cheek and the time seemed to still. The knife lodged deep into the officer's stomach making him pause before crumbling to the ground. Izuku paled looking at the office wide-eyed crouched ready to do a lousy handstand thingie hoping to catch the officer with his feet but it seemed that wasn’t needed at all. 

Another knife flew, digging into the taser officer's shoulder blade. Izuku jumped back not wishing to get caught between that. He looked up seeing another glint of a knife yelping as it headed for him. Oh, so he was a target too. Great. 

“Get back,” Someone roared and Izuku slipped, rolling away as another knife fell where he stood. Izuku glanced back up, eyes widening. Stain. Fucking Stain of all people. What Izuku had done to anger him he wasn’t sure but the man sure was trying to dig one of his many knives into Izuku’s head. 

Izuku cursed as the last non-injured police officer lunged for him trying to seize the opportunity but Izuku pulled the big knife that was more like a sword from the ground near his feet and used it as a weapon instead. Fuck his bat this was better. He dropped the bat and swung his knife, sword? He had zero technique but the weapon was light and flexible enough for it to do its work. The police officer stumbled as Izuku caught his chest with the tip of it. Fortunately for him, his vest shielded him but Izuku didn’t hesitate to lunge forward driving the knife into the man’s chest. 

He hasn't really gone here to kill anyone but desperate times call for desperate measures and well, he hadn't aimed for anything that would kill the man right away. If the guy got to the hospital in time he would live. Izuku tried not to think about how this wasn’t his first kill. 

Izuku ignored the turmoil of emotions took the knife and tried to scale the wall. He grabbed his bat along the way holding it between his legs and hoping his arms would be strong enough to hold his own weight. The brick walls of the building surrounding the alleyway were very uneven meaning Izuku maybe had enough leverage to grab against something.

He ignored the shouts of people underneath him and made his way to the rooftop. At one point he slipped, falling down but he had managed to get to a small balcony, landing with his stomach on the metal railing. It hurt a lot but he held on, tears pricking his eyes. 

His head swam as he rolled onto the rooftop painting, his hands shaking as he held the sword, the bat falling to the ground beside him. The wind was apparent on the roof as he shuddered regretting letting the hoodie go. But a snarl brought him back to reality. He had scaled the same building Stain was on. Great. 

The man lunged. Izuku dodged. 

Izuku couldn't breathe. His heart was pounding in his chest, blood rushing so fast he thought his eardrums might pop. He couldn't feel his body, or most of it that is, as if he was paralysed. Blood dripped down his brow into his eyes and Izuku wanted to wipe it away but couldn't, fingers barely twitching.  

“I expected more of a fight from you, Yami,” Stain growled over him, his knives and swords glinting in the night. The man’s sneer was disgusting and Izuku wanted to vomit.  

“And I expected that self-respecting villains knew how to brush their teeth,” Izuku scrunched his nose at the protruding smell wafting from Stain’s mouth who chucked at him as if this thing was one big joke. And sure maybe it was but Izuku didn’t find it funny. Didn’t find this at all funny when panic seemed to settle deep inside his gut. Something about the man was so- so unsettling Izuku needed to get away from him as soon as possible. 

“Humor will get you nowhere kid,” Wrong, humour got him here after all. Didn’t matter that he was close to his death beat but it was an achievement nonetheless. Humor took people to a lot of places good or bad but places. 

“I thought you were against killing kids, Stain,” Izuku mumbled, his leg jerking briefly. The hero killer didn’t seem to notice and Izuku didn’t try that again. The numbness once again flowed through and yeah he hated that feeling a whole lot. But the paralysis was wearing off, far too soon if Izuku counted his minutes right. He could be wrong because his head pounded like crazy, being slammed into the roof might do that to you. 

“It seems that you have your information wrong, Yami,” The man sneered at him and Izuku’s brow twitched. Yeah okay, the smell was really gonna have him throwing up. 

“No, no I’m pretty sure vigilante Stendhal, more recently known as Stain,” Izuku took a deep breath chuckling at the man’s brief flash of surprise.

“-by the name of Chizome Akaguro. With a quirk named Bloodcurdle; that activated when you are ingesting your victim's blood paralyzing them for a specific amount of time based on their blood type- though brief differences in the time could be based on the amount as well or perhaps the freshness of the blood. That’s something I've been wondering-” Izuku cut off. No need to tell him and give him ideas in case the man had less of a perfect understanding of his quirk. Which was highly unlikely but one would never know.  

“Whose values are based on the idea that heroes are worthy of their title only based on their own beliefs of what it means to be a hero. On the basis that one value is better than another seems downright stupid. A villain who ideologies All Might of all people. A villain who had explicitly never killed a kid despite having multiple encounters with them would kill me, Yami, a teenager” Izuku ranted, meeting Stain’s eyes, smiling under his mask. If the man wanted a fight he would give him one, just verbal it was his forte anyway.  

“Did I miss anything?” Izuku raised his eyebrow. 

“I doubt you're one to ignore your own beliefs as that would be hypocritical of you.”

“Of course, the society knows almost nothing about you right now as you have only two deaths officially reported under your name. Which does not warrant that much attention with how many villains appear and disappear nowadays. You haven't spread your ideology yet, which by the way is very questionable and I would love to have a long debacle about it, but that’s for some time later. By killing me right here, if it was reported officially and probably would be as Yami had been a wanted figure for quite a while and it’s bringing the public into a sense of unease. Something like my death would be reported, meaning you can't kill me because one- it would push you into the spotlight as a child killer and two that would just make all of your ideology useless, in an instant,” Izuku took a deep breath. 

He hadn't meant to go off tangent but if the guy wanted to kill him then Izuku would have to point out all the way why it wasn't wanted and needed or warranted. No matter the fact that Izuku would live through the ordeal. Looking at the man's knives Izuku didn't want another scar in his body. He had too many of those already. 

“Do you ever shut up, kid?” 

“Never,” Izuku grinned and tightened his core, swinging his legs into the air and nailing the hero killer in the face. Izuku rolled to his feet rushing to a random side of the rooftop as far as he could from the man. Stain growled, licking his busted lip. Izuku hummed, could the guy paralyse himself?

“That wore off fast,”

“I know right?” Izuku grinned. He had the least compatible blood for Stain to fight against. He could easily wait it out although this was far too fast, and his body hadn't been fully paralysed he could twitch his fingers even after Stain had gotten his blood right there. Maybe it had to do something with his quirk.? If it was healing, or regeneration in some cases did that mean his blood cells were made and died far quicker than of the average human? Would that make him more or less immune to certain blood type quirks? Neat and freaky.  

“I don’t know what you want from me, Stain but I suggest that we part our ways and never speak of this again. I have no intention of fighting you, you’re not on my radar, sorry,” Izuku sighed, feeling all of his injuries. One side-effect to note the paralysis seemed to affect his quirk because none of the pain, inflicted by the countless injuries that night, was disappearing with the same strength and speed as usual. It felt almost like then back on the rooftop when his body was as that as before he found out his quirk. Normal, or rather not normal at all. Quirkless. He hadn't realized how achingly empty that felt until he could forget about it. 

“You’re one of the fakes,” Stain growled, bringing Izuku out of his mental dilemma. 

“Fakes? Me?” Izuku raised his eyebrow, uncertain what Stain meant by that. Or rather how exactly could that relate to Yami?  

“You stand in the grey area, not a hero, not a villain either. Playing some game until someone snapped and drove a knife into your throat,” The man raised his knife and Izuku shuddered. 

“I’m sorry to break it to you Stain but I’m not trying to be a hero- vigilante, whatever,” Izuku laughed in disbelief. Did the guy really think Izuku was trying to do the whole vigilante thing? First, yeah. Right now definitely not. He didn’t have the right qualities, or courtesy by society to ever dream of it.  

“I'm not a hero, Stain,” Izuku lowered his voice. He was far from it.  

“It seems like you’re confused on your path,” The hero killer narrowed his eyes. 

“What path? Straight to the prison? Maybe yeah, I wasn't really aiming for that but I don’t think anything else is left for me here,” Izuku couldn’t understand what Stain meant by any of this. His path? His path was fucked. He never had a clear one and never would. Whatever Stain had going on here clearly was very different from reality.  

“You wouldn’t know of true values would you,” He sneered with disgust as if Izuku’s entire existence disgusted him, it probably did and Izuku was lucky to be even standing. Although barely, he was sure his leg, the one that had weirdly cracked before, was going to give out soon. 

“And you would? How can you say one thing is better than another, how can you say that living a life, and being a hero a certain way proves that you’re above everyone else? That sounds like a load of bullshit to me.” Almost the same way quirkists felt towards those who didn’t have the ‘special’ ability. As if their existence was above those who didn’t fit into the new standards that hadn't been around for more than a hundred years. 

“You do not understand me, child. All Might is the only true hero-”

“All Might might as well be the worst of them all, I’m sorry Stain but the man you believe to be your hero is no more than a man with the belief that he can't save everyone. A man who says ‘I am here’ and then acts like he can choose who to save,”' Maybe his wording wasn’t right, maybe he was letting emotions get to him but Izuku felt tears threatening to spill. He shouldn’t be crying in front of the hero killer who wanted him dead but he had a shit night and he wanted to go home. 

So if Stain wanted to spew some bullshit about All Might, whom he knew nothing about, then Izuku would not tolerate that. Sure that man was a hero, number one for many reasons but if his values lay in a belief that some people were more likely to get saved then Izuku couldn't believe in him. Izuku might have a quirk now but living the majority of his life without one and still pretending half of the time that he was quirkless and useless left a scar. He didn’t want to hear from someone who used to be his comfort hero that Izuku was just unlucky.  

After all, All Might wouldn’t save someone like him, anyway. Maybe it wasn’t his right to be angry at one person for not saving everyone when he was just that one person but who was to say his feelings weren't valid? 

“You dare call All Might a fake-,”

“Yes, I fucking do, because he’s a big Buffon and I’m astonished how he hasn’t made things for the worst.” And yet All Might had other flaws Izuku never realized a hero of his calibre could have. 

“He doesn’t even follow the standard protocol after a villain attacks a victim,” Izuku could still sometimes feel the sludge as he hacked it up in the silence of his own home. “When he blindly wished to push a huge responsibility on a teenager,” He was yet to get over the fact that All Might wanted to give him a quirk. A quirk for fucks sake, trying to take pity on him. 

“When he tried to reason that some people were less worthy to be saved.” Izuku should shut up. He was telling things he shouldn't be telling. Things he promised to keep quiet about. He may dislike All Might but he promised not to reveal his secrets. But anger got to him. And fast. And guilt followed drowning him. 

“Ah fuck,” Izuku gasped as he fell down on one knee. He wasn’t feeling his best at all. If he was dense and all he wouldn’t have realized that oncoming darkness was his mind telling him to shut up. But he was far too familiar with that feeling. Panic settled deep inside of him. 

He was about to black out in front of Stain. 

Izuku fell to the ground, groaning. Whatever the man did during this period of time Izuku wished to never know. His eyes closed. Opened and he was alone, a knife lodged into the rooftop by Izuku’s hand. 

“ Who is this ,” Izuku bit his lip. 

“Eraser?” He had called Aizawa. He had actually called Aizawa. He could hear Shinsou laughing in his mind at him giving in. 

“ Izuku? ”

“Hey,”

“ Is everything alright? ” Aizawa's voice grew worried and Izuku couldn't blame the guy. 

“Uhm-,”

“ Actually where are you? I'm coming to pick you up, ” He interrupted Izuku and said that he was glad because he didn’t want to try and tell everything that happened. Too much to talk about and not break down. Panic still had settled deep inside his guts. 

“Hosu?” He mumbled looking around. He could only see the sky and it looked like Hosu. Maybe. 

“ Hosu? ”

“I think. I hit my head, blacked out or-” Yeah understatement of the year. “I don’t remember much,” But he did. He wished he didn’t though. 

“ Shit, send me your coordinates, ” Izuku fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it. 

“Alright,” He pressed the button hoping this would work while still on the call.

“ Stay with me on the line alright ,” Izuku nodded, then remembered that Aizwa couldn’t see. Damn it, he hated talking. 

“Kay, hey Aizawa,” Izuku took a deep breath. 

“ What is it? ”

“Can you grab that strawberry soda you bought last time?” The man was most likely hours away from Izuku but he didn’t care.

“ Sure kid, ” Izuku let out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He’d be fine  

“Thanks dad,” If Aizawa heard he said nothing and if he didn’t, Izuku didn't mean it any less than what it stood for. 

Chapter Text

Aizawa wasn’t sure what to think of the situation he was put in. After the call he had rushed to the train station, hoping that the kid wouldn’t disappear in over the less than two hours he needed to get to Hosu. Whatever the kid was doing in Hosu anyway. 

But he stayed with him on the phone call. Just listening to him breathe, letting out a little pained groan every now and then. Aizawa could only hope Izuku wasn’t badly harmed. He would have preferred that there was no harm done to the boy ever, but it was a futile thought. After seeing all the bruises on the kid when he had taken him home after that fateful night he wasn’t sure the kid ever went without them. 

It was no surprise that on the way back Izuku passed out on his shoulder, clutching the drink he’d gotten him at his request. It had been a long night and by the time they got back, it was nearing morning. The kid didn’t stir even as he carried him upstairs, getting him suited in the same room as previously. 

This time though the window was latched close and secured with a lock. He wasn’t having any chances of Izuku escaping again. If he wished to leave Aizawa would let him but not down three stories once more. Who knew how bad the damage had been the previous time?

Aizawa stared at him lying in the bed peacefully sleeping. His clothes were stained with blood. Face crusted in some blood too. But there was no sign of injury at least one that Aizawa didn’t see. He didn’t wish to invade the kid's privacy more than he had and left the bloodied shirt on him. But took one of his own hoodies and put it on the chair on the table for the kid to take. Along with a shirt and pair of pants that were bound to be too big on the boy. 

With a sigh, Aizawa stumbled to the living room and met with his husband Hizashi getting his coffee ready. What a blessed man he was. 

“How is the little listener?” He questioned not turning back as Aizawa collapsed onto the couch. 

“Sleeping,” He mumbled unsure how to proceed. What should one do when they had a wanted criminal in their guest bedroom who was also a kid with a lot of issues and in need of help? There wasn't really a protocol for all of this so Aizawa felt conflicted. 

Well, at least for now Izuku was sleeping. Couldn’t do anything to get himself hurt even more or worse get arrested and hauled straight to the doorsteps of Hero Comission. Who was far too keen on having him. It bothered him. He knew that they would use Izuku in any way they could for their benefit, making him nothing more than a puppet. And Aizawa also knew that Izuku would be the last person to fall to their paws if they could. 

But then again who was he to say anything when another set of paws was making his own solution to the problem they had? Putting Izuku in yet another situation where he had no other choice but to accept and obey. And Aizawa would be the one to oversee it. 

Somehow that pained him. But there was simply no other way. 

“He’ll be fine Shouta. You need to trust yourself and you need to trust Izuku, okay?” Hizashi appeared with a mug of coffee in his hands passing it to him. Aizawa could only nod leaning against the couch. 

He didn’t have any choice in this matter other than to trust himself that this was for the best. 

With a decisive sigh, he pulled out his phone and punched the contacts. It would be for the best to notify Tsukauchi of the little situation he’d gotten himself into. Last time Izuku had run away right away but perhaps they could talk now? When they weren’t stranded on a rooftop. Far away from the low edges of it. 

“ Aizawa, ” Tsukauchi's tired voice rumbled from the other end. It sounded like the detective had been asleep. Aizawa felt a little sorry for waking him up but this was important. 

“Yami is sleeping in my apartament,” 

“ Again? ” Tsukauchi chuckled but he could hear shuffling on his end. Most likely he got up to rush to his apartment as fast as he could. Aizawa would have done the same in his stead. 

“He called me in the middle of the night and said was in Hosu. Brought him home, fell asleep on me on the way back,” 

“ Is he-?” Tsukauchis's worried tone was heard even over the phone. 

“He’s alright, as alright as he can be, though there’s blood on his clothes,” Aizawa sighed. That kid seemed to worry him more than any other kid he’d met in his life. It was truly incredible how he managed to do that. 

“ I’m coming over ,”

“Don’t rush, it seems like he’ll be knocked out for quite a while,”

“ With all due respect Aizawa, but last time I barely saw him and he was already out through the window ,” Aizawa hummed. It was true. And he’d do the same in his place as well. If he found out that Izuku was crashing over at Tsukauchi’s place he’d drop everything to come right over.

“Coffee will be ready when you arrive,” With that Aizawa dropped the phone on the couch meeting eyes with Hizashi who gave him a tight smile. 

It hadn’t been that long since Izuku was in his apartment the first time. When he thought that he could sort things out with the boy for the best, in the end, it turned out to be a week of silence and not knowing if the boy was alive. It had stressed him out greatly. And now he was unsure what to do. How to proceed. 

Despite all his worries by the time Tsukauchi arrived Izuku hadn’t stirred at all. Instead, he just turned around in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. Not that Aizawa was checking on him all the time or anything. He was simply worrying and perhaps making a hole in the floor beside his door. Hizashi had to pull him back to the couch, sit him down and put their cat in his lap so he had no choice but to stay. 

He grumbled at Hizashi that using their cat, Bastard, was cheating but Hizashi only gave him a look and started on breakfast. Hizashi had always been the wiser man between them despite his almost aloof, energetic appearance. 

The doorbell had run only moments later. Tsukauchi tumbled into their apartment looking more dishevelled than he’d ever seen the man. Which was saying a lot as he’d seen the man in pretty drastic states of disarray whenever working on really complicated cases. Most of which connect to their resident trouble maker Yami. One that was sleeping in his guest bedroom and drolling on his pillow. 

It humanized the kid even more. He wasn’t just a villain who strayed off his path, but a kid who was suffering. A kid who had too much on his plate for his age and had taken up more than he could handle. Aizawa knew that many kids were like that, many were lost to the rotten society they lived in. He wasn’t about to let one more be robbed of a good life. 

“Is he-

“Still sleeping,” Aizawa gruffed out, pointing Tsukauchi to the kitchen where he was gracefully met with Hizashi who pushed a plate of scrambled eggs right under his nose. Followed by coffee. It was clear that at least one of them had to keep calm in this situation.

Hizashi had expressed his wish to help the boy despite being so far removed from it. Juggling three jobs was hard to do and Hizashi didn’t patrol at night anyway, a limelight hero who couldn’t work in very closed spaces either because of his quirk. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re eating too,” Hizashi pulled Aizawa off the couch, depositing him at the kitchen table. Another plate of scrambled eggs being put down. Aizawa was sure that once Izuku woke up, if he was civil, he’d get the same treatment. 

Perhaps if everything worked out they could have that. A breakfast for three of them, or any meal that they managed to gather together for. 

It didn't take much time for them to end up back on the couch, quietly mussing together what to do. What was their plan of action? They couldn’t just swoop in and kidnap the kid and force him out of the villain's path. Not until his name was cleared, if they could even do that. And even then they couldn’t know what Izuku wanted to do. It’s not like they could force him.

But Izuku didn’t have as much choice as Yami. A tight situation he had gotten himself into, maybe unknowingly, maybe for a reason. Sometimes Aizawa wondered if the kid even saw a future for himself. At the back of his mind a clear no whispering to him. Not with the way he tried to fling himself off the roof that day. 

Maybe it had been a fluke. A ruse. But Aizawa was anything but naive. Ruses like those didn’t exist. 

“Do you think we could work this out with zero punishment or prison time for the kid?” One of them had asked but silence followed. They weren’t sure at all. They’d be lucky to let Izuku walk around with no sentence to his head. 

“Some kind of miracle has to happen,” Aizawa mumbled. He didn’t believe in miracles. There was only logic. And based on the situation they were in deep. And god knows what would it take for Izuku to come out of this scott-free.

“We can’t give up on the boy-”

“No one’s giving up ‘Zashi,” Aizawa looked at Hizashi who sighed and nodded. He bumped their shoulders together. Aizawa would be the last person to give in this case. 

“There’s too many circumstances to take into account Yamada, I’m sure you’re aware of this. We’re all impatient, but we must keep calm to do what’s best for him,” Tsukauchi gently said. There was no chance of rushing things along it would only backfire on them in the worst-case scenario. They had to be careful even if it put them in a position that forced them to let go of Izuku for a little while. 

As they spoke Aizawa heard a door open and light steps come from behind them. 

“Uhm-” A voice spoke up as they all quickly turned around and met with Izuku, clad in his shirt and hoodie if the too-big fabric drawing his frame was anything to go by. 

“Oh, you’re already up?” Hizashi spoke, endearment in his voice at how Aizawa’s clothes fit the boy. 

“You were speaking quite loudly,” Izuku snorted. 

“Sorry,” Tsukauchi laughed lightly. 

The boy fidgeted in his spot unsure what to do. It was anything unlike Yami and Izuku that he knew. So opposite of his usual confident and sass, just a fourteen-year-old boy. Barely a teenager. 

It had been barely more than three hours since he’d gotten back. But the boy looked better. There was no blood on his face anymore either. Just tired eyes, bags under his face and too thin of a frame even for a boy at his age. He looked painfully young. Just a boy beaten down by the world. 

“Not trying to jump out of a window this time?” Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him as Izuku cracked a laugh, relaxing. 

“No, don’t worry Eraser, not like I could if I tried. Locking the window, seriously? Have so little fate in me?” Aizawa rolled his eyes, it was a safety precaution he needed to take. He wasn’t risking anything, not right now.

“Yes,” Izuku huffed watching as Hizashi moved from the couch. 

“Come here little listener I have some breakfast ready, do you like scrambled eggs? I can make something else if you want to,” Izuku seemed to seize up unsure what to do. He shifted in his spot.

“I-uh- it’s alright, I wouldn’t want to impose- uh,” He shifted in a way that made him so small, unlike anything he’d ever been. Always standing in such a way that it seemed like he was largen that life. Aizawa knew it was just a facade he kept. Otherwise, he’d been long gone from the villain world. 

“Nonsense, you’re not imposing at all. Come on, I can offer you tea as well. Or maybe flavoured milk? Did you know Shouta here likes strawberry-flavoured milk?” Izuku’s eyes widened snapping to Aizawa who just huffed, muttering to himself not to reveal all his secrets. 

“I mean- isn’t it weird?” Izuku cocked his head, looking adorably confused. 

“What is, kid?” Aizawa stood up, standing beside the couch. Unsure if he wanted to approach the kid, Izuku, when he seemed so jumpy as if he’d dart out the minute it became unsafe. 

“Me? Here? Shouldn’t I be shipped straight to prison, now that you have me in your hands?” Aizawa felt something disgusting curl in his gut. A kid like him shouldn’t think like this. Shouldn’t have expectations to be sent straight to prison. Shouldn’t be so calmy associated with the idea that he’d end up there one day. 

“Despite being wanted across the country there is actually no official paperwork that would put you into prison right away, you’d have to go through trial and deep investigation for that,” Aizawa flicked his eyes to Tsuakauchi. While he wasn’t wrong it wasn’t entirely the truth either. Yami would be shipped right to prison. It was only a matter of figuring out which one. And whenever the Hero Commission wanted something from him. Which could put him in the system working for them instead. Which wasn’t better by any means. 

Izuku gave Tsukauchi one long look, the gears shifting in his head as he cracked a small laugh. “Detective, I’d assume with the way your quirk works you’d be more inclined to know how to lie.” Tsukauchi sighed. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Well while I’m not entirely sure what record police has on me, there’s only so much I can check from my own computer, but I’m pretty sure there is enough to forgo the questioning and investigation. I’m sure today would just add to it.” Izuku seemed to slum in on himself as if he knew that there was nothing to be done to benefit the situation in his favour. The kid seemed to have completely given up on himself.

“Explain,”

“Oh- don’t worry Eraser, I’m sure Tsukauchi will get a call soon enough. That damn mutt was strongly insistent on arresting me. I didn’t even do anything,” Izuku huffed not making much sense. But he looked irritated, almost pouting. 

“Anyway. You still haven't answered my question. Why are you letting me stand in your living room and not arresting me?” Aizawa sighed, there was nothing that would slip by him. 

It almost seemed like Izuku was afraid of not being in the known. As if every piece of information would keep him safe. But information only puts people in danger. Information was dangerous. It could get one killed. 

“The truth is-”

“We don’t want to arrest you, little listener,” Hizashi broke in before Aizawa could say much more. And maybe it was for the better. He wasn’t sure how to explain this situation to him. 

“Wait. Now I’m confused. Is it about the deal we have? Are you just waiting for that? I could give you the information you need right now and then you’d have no other reason to let me be,” Izuku tilted his head. Confusion was visible on his face like he believed that there was nothing more to this than the mission. That he was there only for the information. 

“It’s not that. Midoriya, we want to help you,” Tsukauchi said. 

“Help me? How? Why?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” 

“Well I sure am, that’s what I do. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” He said the last part in almost a whisper. And Aizawa couldn’t help but wince. As he mentioned. Information was dangerous and it seemed like Izuku knew all about it. 

“Let’s make another deal, you eat and we’ll answer you,” Izuku gave him a long look until his stomach growled. Izuku flushed up to his roots and grumbled under his breath, cautiously shuffling to the table where Hizashi had put food down. 

Izuku sat down, poking at the plate, then turned to them with an annoyed look. 

“At least let me eat in peace, it’s kind of creepy to have three grown men stare me down,” Hizashi laughed, nodding along. 

They left him be. Aizawa glanced up every now and then as Izuku kept poking at his food, putting some into his mouth every now and then. He only managed to finish half of his plate, before turning to them, with a box of strawberry milk in his hand. 

“Now talk,”

“We’re trying to work out a way to ensure your freedom,” 

“My freedom? Why would you let a nationwide criminal run free? Isn’t that counterproductive?” Izuku sighed, playing with the box in his hands unsure if he wanted to indulge or not. In the end, he put it back on the table. 

“Your freedom not as Yami but as Midoriya Izuku,” It snapped Izuku’s mouth shut, a frown crossing over. He leaned against the back of the chair, facing them sideways. 

“And you think that’s smart?” 

“It’s the right thing to do,” Izuku groaned. 

“Right,” Izuku scoffed, followed by a small laugh. “I forgot you’re heroes for a moment there,” 

“Look,” He turned to them, running his hand through his hair. “Whatever you’re trying to do, stop it. I don’t need your help or whatever you’re trying to do that is,” He stood up, wincing slightly. 

“I’ve fucked up enough to know that to pull me out of all this mess, I have two options. Either I die, or the Hero Commission decides I’m worthy of their time and close their eyes while I work for them,” Aizawa stared at the kid, for a moment forgetting that he was smart. Smart enough to know his options in a dire situation like this. To know that there wasn’t much one could do to keep his record clean when so many things seemed to fall into place against him. 

“We have a plan,” Aizawa said, stopping the kid in his tracks as Izuku tried to slowly start and slip away. 

“Enlighten me Aizawa, what could be your brilliant plant then?” He almost sneered, eyes narrowing. 

“I cannot disclose any information for the sake of it working,” He wished he could tell him about it. How they intended to keep him safe. How they worked to ensure his record was clean enough for his past to not haunt him as he moved on. How he could live the life he deserved. Aizawa didn't wish for many things, but he, oh so desperately, wished to be able to tell the kid everything he needed to know. To appease his worries, to gain his trust. To keep the kid safe.

“Right,” 

“We want to help you, Izuku. You deserve a better life than this,”

“Right. Sure. Whatever.” He grumbled sitting back down on the chair, looking down at his lap. Energy seemed to seep out of Izuku as he tangled one of his hands in his hair, the other shakingly clutching his pants. 

His shoulders seemed to tremble, one foot bounding up and down rapidly. He took a deep breath, shuddering it out. And looked at them. His eyes were red, shining with unshed tears. He looked so broken. 

“You think you can really help me?” It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t filled with distrust or any of his previous malice. Instead, it was broken, a sob suppressed at the end of the sentence. Voice seeming to break. 

“We will do everything in our power to do so, to pull you out Izuku, we promise,” Aizawa moved unable to stop himself. Kneeling in front of Izuku who looked at him. Silent tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“We assure you, there is a plan. Just- cooperate with us, yeah? We want to do what’s best for you,” Izuku nodded shakily, opening his mouth but closing it right after.

“I’m tired-” He shuddered out. “I wish I could just not exist anymore, I just- I just want to die,” He broke down. A sob following his confession. Aizawa’s heart ached. He was sure the sharp inhales behind him told him as much that others felt the plunge too. 

Hearing someone admit to wishing to die was never easy. Aizawa would lie that he’d never felt the same, didn’t know the deep pain of one's self when death seemed to be the only option, the only answer to troubles in their life. 

Hearing it from a kid, barely a teenager, felt even more painful. 

“I’ll be there to catch you again, Izuku, I promise.” Izuku laughed at that. A wet laugh.

“Like last time?

“Like last time,” Izuku nodded but didn’t look convinced. If anything he looked even more pained at the idea. 

“Can I hug you, little listener?” Hizashi approached them, kneeling right beside Aizawa. 

Izuku laughed again. “Wow, I must be lucky. Sure,” He whispered as Hizashi didn’t hesitate to pull the boy into a bone-crushing hug. He tucked Izuku’s head under his chin, which seemed to break the boy even more as he sobbed. Cluchitng at Hizashis shirt. It was painful. The sobs wrecked Izuku’s body, as he trembled in his arms. 

It took a while for Izuku to calm down. But no one was rushing him. If anything they were all on stand-by to give him any comfort and reassurance he needed. Anything the boy asked for they’d deliver. 

Izuku gathered himself wiping away at his tears and apologizing for ruining Hizashi's shirt, putting some sort of a mask on his face as he turned to Tsukauchi. 

“You know I can still give you the information you need,” Izuku shifted in his seat. 

“It hasn’t been a week-”

“I knew about the shipment quite a while ago- it’s actually- well, I’ve met the head of the Yakuza,” Izuku fidgeted in his spot, not meeting their eyes. “He asked me to work for him,”

They all stared at him as Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “You’re working with them?” 

“It’s not really with them, more like for them. One gig and then we don’t know each other kind of thing. I- well, I didn’t want to do it, but- he offered quite a bit of money and well I was out my dad-uhm, he’s overseas and well-” Izuku fumbled with his words, either unsure or cautious what to say. 

“He sends me money- or used to- ever since mom passed away he’s taken full custody of me but I well, I live alone. And he paid for the apartment and any other necessities and sent money for food- until well, he decided not to. And yeah- I uh- I didn’t have much choice to get the job, I haven’t checked but I’m pretty sure dad he- uh- didn’t send money for this month's apartment payment either,” Izuku laughed as if it was just a silly joke but dread overtook Aizawa. He hadn’t thought about the living conditions. And it felt like a punch in the gut knowing that Izuku was struggling a lot even just as a civilian. 

Put in a spot with no money to take care of himself. Aizawa wanted to find his dad and punch him in the face. Hard. Twice and maybe more times. Hizashi seethed the same by his side as Tsukauchi decided to write something down. 

“While I want to know more about the situation- for now, tell me about the deal,” Tsukauchi opened a blank page. 

“Right, right. What do you want to know? In what order- cause there’s a lot-”

“Just start with the preposition the Yakuza came to you with,” Tsukauchi gave Izuku a reassuring smile. 

Izuku nodded slipping into a more serious expression. One that Aizawa knew resembled his Yami getup. When he was working, he gathered information and analysed everything he had and didn’t have. 

“The Yakuza decided to transport Trigger in a large shipment from Nagoya to Osaka, which is pretty stupid of them not gonna lie, but that’s beside the point,” Aizawa snorted at Izuku’s bluntness which he could understand. 

“They are transporting around 7 boxes of trigger vials, broken into 10ml, each box consists of 150 vials.” That was a lot of Trigger. Way more than usual. Whatever the need for such huge amounts of Trigger was for was worrying. 

“That’s a lot of Trigger,”

“Yeah that’s why I think the whole idea is stupid, but they’re desperate right now, because of the disruption of Trigger's business,” Izuku hummed. 

“Do they not know that you’ve been tipping the police off for a few months?” Izuku shook his head, scratching behind his head almost sheepish. 

“They are unaware yes, otherwise they wouldn’t have asked. I’m still not sure why they wanted me to do this, but then again if I got caught it would be to their benefit, as to many others. It’s a high-risk mission,” It was too risque. The yakuza had put Izuku in a tight spot. 

“Anyway they are moving by a truck disguised as a local supermarket joint that is situated in only those two cities and the towns between them- pretty convenient. I’ve been tasked to come up with the plan of the safest route, taking into account everything I can, even the weather,”

“Trigger is known to be less effective in cold weather,” 

“It’s summer Tsukauchi, but I get what you mean. They want everything working perfectly,” Izuku sighed, adding the details of the shipment move. Which was only in less than three days' time, nearly not enough time to get the police force and heroes ready for a takedown. They thought they had more time but it seemed not. 

“I was actually the one to set the date. Because on that day there is a huge Hero gathering in Tokyo, a lot of heroes would be more alert in Tokyo for any commotion. I’m sure a lot of villains and criminals will use that opportunity to cause chaos, so the move if found out could not be easily apprehended.”

Aizawa listened carefully to Izuku as Tsukauchi jotted notes down. It was impressive how much information the kid had, even on things he shouldn’t have known as it was outside of his task from the yakuza. But he had to remember that the kid had been on the streets for a long while and had been working with the police for quite a while too. He had a keen intelligence and a knack for analysis. 

“That’s all I have I guess,”

“It’s impressive, this is enough information to form a raid, for apprehension in their desired location of arrival,” Something shifted on Izuku’s face as he nodded. 

“I’m sure Yakuza will be more than happy to know that information was leaked,”

“Kid-” Aizawa winced. 

“It’s fine- I well, I expected to be collateral damage for the Yakuza, that’s probably why they hired me in the first place. A two in one. I might be well known in the villain world but I’m not well-liked, I know too much,” Izuku shifted in his seat, tucking his hands under his thighs. 

“Izuku-” Aizawa started. “You will not be hurt by them. As soon as the raid is over, we’re going to put our plan into motion,” 

“Whatver you say Eraser,” Izuku blinked at him. 

“Alright, thank you so much Midoriya, you’d make a great analyst.”

“I’ve been told,”

“It’s true. You have a bright mind,”

Izuku shrugged. 

Aizawa wished to say something, to assure the boy that he would be alright. But it wasn’t something he could promise with certainty even if he wanted to. Instead, he sighed. 

“You can stay here you know?” Aizawa said, meeting Izuku’s eyes. He could see the disbelief in them right away. 

“What?” 

“We’re not kicking you out, it would be for the best if you stayed here under our protection until we figure everything out,” Was it that hard to believe that they would want to ensure his safety? That he mattered to them? Aizawa knew that Izuku had issues and perhaps trust was one of them. He just wished the kid could see that they were giving him a safety net to fall back on. 

“And then what? You clear up my name and send me to foster care? You do know that my official quirk status still says quirkless? Do you know what they do to kids who don’t have a quirk nowadays? There’s a reason why the suicide statistic is so high. Don’t promise me things you can’t assure are going to stay true a day after, and anyway, I can protect myself just fine.” 

The conversation was interrupted by a doorbell. Aizawa squinted as Tsukauchi jumped to his feet rushing to the door. 

“Who’s that,” Izuku hissed, immediately flicking the hood of the hoodie over his hair and curling in on himself. Making him small and hiding his face behind his drawn-up knees. 

A tall body shuffled into the apartment followed by Tsukauchi. “I called him while Midoriya slept I thought it would be for the best that he also knew-”

“You!” Izuku suddenly jumped and spat out, anger in his eyes. 

“Young Midoriya,” Yagi was standing awkwardly in the living room. 

“Are you kidding me?” Izuku seethed. “What are you doing here? What do you mean it would be for the best-?” 

“Calm down-” Aizawa stood up approaching Izuku who just took a step back. 

“What do you mean calm down!”

“I’m sorry young Midorya, but I’ve been involved in your case for quite a while,” Yagi spoke up but jumped at Izuku’s accusatory tone. 

“Why,” Izuku took another step back. 

“Yagi here was actually the one who sparked a clear connection between your civilian and villain identity,” Tsukauchi said from the back, walking over to Yagi, and putting a hand on his shoulder. Aizawa thought that was probably the wrong thing to say. 

“You can’t be serious,” Izuku mumbled. “You were the one who fucked this up?! How can- I- argh,” Izuku shouted, trembling in anger. 

“Izuku what is going on?” 

“What is going on? Do you want to know what is going on? You’re putting one of the most incompetent heroes on a case like me? Sicking him like a dog because he felt a little bit of guilt for what he did- to get what? A sorry apology so I could say ‘it’s fine, it happens’ for kicks and giggles?” Izuku shouted, voice cracking. 

“Young Midoriay I am sorry-”

“Shut it- I don’t want to hear it-” Izuku snapped tumbling over his own feet and rushing to the guest room, slamming the door. The sound echoed through the room. 

“He is quite temperamental-” Yagi sighed as Aizawa snapped his eyes to the man. What the fuck was going on?

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t really know what to think. He hadn’t expected All Might to suddenly appear and say such things. 

As he slammed the guest bedroom door he felt bad but then again he was seething with rage. All Might had made the connection between his identities. Or at least said some things that revealed him to the others? All this time he had tried to protect himself from Eraserhead only to be found out so easily. He had thought he slipped up. Thought that Eraserhead was just that smart putting two and two together. 

But no. It had ended up being All Might. Maybe he wasn’t fair, not knowing the full situation. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so angry and shouted at the hero. But he was- angry. He felt betrayed. 

What a fool he was to believe that there was someone who he could trust. Someone he could rely on when his darkest moments came. In the end, it turned out to be false. He had let himself slip. Attach himself to people who would eventually turn their back on him. Ridiculous. How naive of him. 

He gathered his things with deft hands. Not bothering to change his clothes. It wouldn’t matter. And maybe he just wanted another Eraserhead hoodie. That little voice in his head betrayed him that if he couldn’t have the comfort of people he could have another hoodie to hide within. 

With remorse, he noticed that his bat wasn’t with him. He would have to go to Hosu to get it. If Eraserhead didn’t have it. It would be a shame to lose it. It was a good weapon to fall back to. Had saved his ass more than once. But then again nothing could last. If he lost it he’d just have to get another one. Maybe something different. Something that wasn’t covered in burn marks and cracks filled with blood so deeply it couldn’t be washed off no matter how hard he tried. 

He grabbed his things. Slid into his shoes and was out of the room in a wind whirl. It would be for the best to leave as quickly as he could. 

Once again met with everyone, their faces with mixed emotions. He wasn’t sure but it looked like concern from Eraserhead, same with Present Mic.  A little bit of confusion on Tsukauchi’s part. And yet there was guilt on All Might’s. How pathetic. How pathetic of him to think that was directed at him. That All Might felt even the tiniest bit of remorse for him, for what he’d done. Trying to apologize to him of all things. 

It was silly. Unbelievable. Why did he even try? 

“Kid-”

“Shut it,” Izuku hissed uncaring the hurt that flashed over Eraserhead's face. Not now. He couldn’t believe it again. Knowing what was to come. They promised him many things but he knew they were all false. A way to gain his trust.  An easier way to get him behind bars. A plan? Who was he kidding? He knew all about heroes and their ways. He knew that they didn’t want anything more than to get a kid off the streets so he wouldn’t cause a ruckus. When had anyone ever cared what happened to him? Why would someone suddenly care?

“Young Midoriya-”

“You out all people should shut up,” Izuku seethed. More anger bubbling under his skin. He grits his teeth. “Why would you even be here? Why would you care when you didn’t care all that much before?”

“I was wrong. I admit I may have said the wrong things,”

“Wrong things? You broke me!” Izuku roared. Who was All Might to say such things? Just because he was the number one hero, who was he to try and apologize? To apologize one more time? As if he could make it right with mere words alone.

“I am sorry young Midoriay, I was merely stating the truth, back then. I wish I could save everyone but-”

“But what? Can’t you just lie? Can’t you just tell some hopeful kid that yes everyone can be saved? That there is some hope in the world for each and every one of us? I wasn’t expecting you to swoop in and take me away from the hell I’m living in! But instead, you just came and crushed it! You just said that I’m not the one whose life plays into your stupid favour of being chosen to be saved,” He had hoped then that maybe it would be alright eventually. That maybe there was some hope for him. Instead, he was faced with the harsh truth head-on. 

“Izuku-”

“Am I lesser? Am I not worth being saved?” He teared up. Was he undeserving of all this? 

“I gave you a choice-” All Might tried to fight back but all Izuku could do was laugh. Tears flowing down his cheeks he laughed. 

“You were ready to send me to another type of hell. You gave me a choice to become you, to put the burden of the whole country on my shoulders because I just had enough bravery to save my stupid classmate?” What was All Might thinking? If he had agreed to the quirk he knew that in the end the target would be shifted on him. He knew that- that kind of power would put him at the front of the hero world. The burden of the next symbol of peace heavy on his shoulders. One that he couldn’t escape.  

“You have a heart of a hero,”

“No, All Might- I don’t. You just see what you want to see. You just wanted to use me for your own benefit.” Izuku staggered back, his back hitting a wall. He took a deep breath and wiped his tears. 

“I’m out of here,” He whispered rushing to the door, ready to fight if anyone stood in his path. But no one did and he was out of the apartment, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know where to go now. Didn’t know what to do. But all he knew was that his heart cried out wishing to stay there. Wishing that some of this was true. Even a little bit. But he knew it wasn’t. When he was undeserving of it all.

He was tired of being lied to. 

“This is a very sudden meeting Yami,” Overhaul growled out behind his mask, his eyes narrowing on him. Izuku raised his eyebrow at him. 

“I’m sure it’ll be worthwhile Overhaul,” He said pulling out a stack of papers. He placed them on the table pushing closer to Overhaul. 

“Here’s the finalised plan, every detail you need. I know I gave you the majority of this earlier, but looking through more hero patrols I noted down places where you shouldn’t show your face in any case. Despite the hero day, this country doesn’t lack active heroes patrolling out and about,” He had the plan ready for a day or two already. He had intended to hand it off just yesterday but it had proved to be impossible as he had ended up in Eraserhead’s apartment playing house instead.

Overhaul glanced at the papers, snapping to the man beside him who took the stack and tucked it away. They weren’t even going to look at it? 

“Not going to look at that?” He voiced his light confusion. 

“I’m sure it's adequate based on your previous report,” Izuku had to suppress a snort. They sure were confident that he did a great job. And he did. He had. He’d taken this seriously. Despite telling Tsukauchi about this, half-assing the actual plan to Overhaul would just end up blowing up in his face. More than it probably will anyway. Better at the right moment rather than now when he was yet to prepare everything. 

He had his own plans for the move. One that neither the police nor Overhaul had to know about. 

“Well my work is done then,” He leaned back in his chair staring down Overhaul behind his own mask. His eyes itching from the fresh contacts he purchased on his way here. He was sure his eyes were red. 

“May I ask you a question Yami?” 

“Go ahead,” Izuku hoped it wasn’t another deal. It would be hard to refuse when yakuza paid so well. The other half of his payment sitting on the table mocking him. When he knew that he’d have no need for it. Not when his plan was sure to land him in prison. Or worse. 

“I’ve heard a rumour-” Oh no. “-that your quirk allows you to avoid death.” Izuku hummed. This wasn’t good. Not at all. From the extensive digging he’d done on Shie Hassaikai he had discovered some concerning things. There was nothing coherent enough to make a conclusion but he knew that the yakuza was working on something. Something that involved quirks. Normally someone asking him about his quirk wouldn’t have red flags blaring but this time it did. He had to be cautious about it. 

“That would be one strong quirk, no?” He rocked in his chair feigning innocence. 

“Answer my question boy,” Overhaul hissed at his as Izuku pursed his lips. The man was sure to fall quickly to anger. 

“And what if I don’t?” His question was met with the sound of a gun cocking. He lifted his gaze to the other guy that was with Overhaul who had pulled out a gun and had aimed it at him. How interesting. How amusing. 

“Want to kill me? It would do you no good to do so, Overhaul,” Izuku didn’t mention how a lot of people would be happy to have him dead. Since he knew that Overhaul most likely was aware of it himself. If he knew the man then he was sure Overhaul would not care if a kid like him died or not. 

“Answer my question,”

Izuku sighed. “The rumours are false,” He stated. Blinking he looked at the other guy. It wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not at all. Had he been forced? He squinted at the guy realizing it was Nemoto Shin, one of the eight bullets of Shie Hassaikai wielding a quirk that forcefully made a person answer truhtfully after he’d asked them a question. Had he whispered it? Along with overhaul to force him to answer? Unfortunately for them, the rumours were based on his using Trigger. Which was one of the false parts of the rumours that he could deny. 

“I see,” Overhaul stood up. “We’re leaving. Do not get in my way Yami,” He hissed before leaving the warehouse they’d met in. It was Girans. A place he’d used many times to meet up with people despite not having met the man until recently. 

“Aye aye,” He called out after them, clicking his tongue. This was turning out to be a bit more difficult. 

He of course could step back. He’d done his part of the deal. Had told Tsukauchi everything he knew. Or at least the information that would be useful to them now. He could just rest for a little while. With all the money he had he didn’t need to continue for a few months at least. But he was Izuku. He was Yami and he didn’t rest and leave things hanging. It was a matter of pride. Or rather foolishness. He hated drug dealing and he felt shitty helping yakuza with this. There was a way to atone. Pretend that he was doing good to write another good line on his record. Perhaps that would take a year or two off his sentence. But who was he kidding? It didn’t matter in the end anyway. 

The police wouldn’t let him go either way. If there was any of ‘him’ left when this was all over anyway. 

A while later Giran showed up smoking his usual cigarette. Izuku stared off into space until Giran spoke up. 

“Done already Yami?” Izuku rolled his eyes at the man. He took the cash he’d gotten and pushed it towards Giran. “Can you get me high-grade explosives tomorrow?” 

“Making some serious demands here Yami,” Giran checked the cash, puffing out smoke at him. Izuku waved in front of his face. The smoke burned his eyes.

“How much do you need?” Izuku watched the money that Giran pushed back towards him. 

“Enough to blow up a warehouse the same size as this one,” Giran pulled a face at him, clearly onto him. 

“Are you thinking of blowing up the yakuza shipment?” Izuku shrugged. 

“And if I am?” Giran looked at him. Just an empty look so full of questions Izuku couldn’t look back. It didn’t matter really what Giran thought of him at this moment. It never mattered anyway. There was not going to be Yami left after this. His last work. Last fall. 

“Heh,” Giran shrugged his shoulders a smile pulling back onto his face. It creeped Izuku out. Always had. 

“Everyone has their own motives, consider the explosives delivered,” Giran walked off leaving Izuku alone with the money and his thoughts. He nodded to himself, standing up. 

Checking time he smiled. It was just after midnight. His birthday. The day of the raid. And the hero day. A twist of fate. 

Izuku found himself on a rooftop once more. He wasn’t there for any purpose really. Just there to be, to feel the wind in his hair. To breathe fresh air and to clear his head. 

He had everything ready, only waiting for the explosives from Giran. He knew where to go. How to sneak in undetected. How to avoid certain people and such. 

Was this the right thing to do? Perhaps not. But maybe it would have been something he’d done if he was a hero. If things had turned out to be different. What if he never had found out about his quirk? Or actually didn’t have one? What would had he done when meeting All Might? Perhaps he would have asked if he could be a hero. Perhaps he would have taken his preposition and ran with it hoping to do good. Perhaps failing along the way. 

Instead, he was planning to explode the warehouse where the yakuza would have the biggest shipment of Trigger Izuku had ever heard about. 

It would put a dent in their business. Would stall whatever they were doing. Whatever Izuku had accidentally dug up, unsure of what it was but something big that was for certain. It would disrupt their progress. Put them on a map as well. Sooner or later heroes there to stop them. 

He was a hero in his own right. Like this. He didn’t want to be. But somehow ended up doing good even if it was backwards and sideways. And yet who was he kidding? He wasn’t cut out from the hero cloth. Not in the same way others were. Even Kacchan for all his explosive anger abided by the rules, and kept his record clean to ensure he would be a hero. Izuku ran head-first into danger instead. He wasn’t a hero. He was an idiot. 

Izuku swung his legs back and forth looking at the city from his vantage point. Was it right to be so carefree right now? To be at peace knowing what will most undoubtedly happen tomorrow? Or well today as it was past midnight.

He wondered if he should call Eraserhead-Aizawa. Talk to him. Explain what he intended to do, not to be caught in the crossfire. But he felt- betrayed. Well maybe that was too strong of a word because he didn’t hate Aizawa, nor was he angry. The only person he felt real anger towards was All Might. But then again it would not make him go out of his way to harm the man- no, never. He just felt lost and hurt and needed someone to hug him. 

He wasn’t angry at the man when deep down Izuku knew he was simply speaking the truth. But as he had said before he didn’t want to hear the truth. And yet he didn’t want empty promises either. He knew it was too much to ask. That world didn’t work like that. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him away from his thoughts. He knew that it could only be two people, Shinsou, to whom he should apologise for disappearing and the second one was Aizawa. 

He knew who it would be and yet he picked up the phone anyway. 

“Hey,” He murmured quiet and oddly content. 

“ Kid? Please tell me you’re safe ,” Aizawa’s panicked voice came through. 

“I am,” 

“ Izuku- ” And Izuku knew what would the hero want to say now. Knew that it wasn’t right. 

“Don’t- Eraserhead- it's not your fault,” It was never Aizawa’s fault. Never had been for all the instances that Izuku felt hurt by the hero. He was after all the first adult in Izuku’s life to try and care for him. To reach out despite the many ways Izuku pushed him away. He persisted and still was trying to make sure he was alright. Not screaming at him that he did wrong yelling at the number one hero. Not telling him that he was being dramatic and that nothing the number one hero did was unjustified. 

He saw Izuku for who he was. If only Izuku could tell him that. If only he could cry his heart out and tell him what had been plaguing his mind for so long. But he didn’t. It wouldn’t matter soon anyway. 

“Aizawa,” 

“ What is it? ”

“Thank you,” He sighed and smiled.  If he could plummet to the ground and not get up he would. But he had the last thing to do. One last thing and he’d be free. 

“ What for? ”

“Everything I think- I don’t- I never- well,” He chortled. “I never had anyone care about me this way, besides my mom, but she’s well- she’s gone and now- I just- thank you,” It was easier than he imagined. To say that. To express gratitude in such a way. He wished he could say that to Aizawa’s face. To perhaps hug him but he was also afraid he’d be pulled away from what he had set his mind to. And he didn’t want that. He wanted to take control of his life. Even if it meant losing everything he gained in the last month or so. 

“ Kid- ”

“It’s okay- I’m just, I’m happy,” He whispered the last part. And he was true. The happiest he’d ever been. Content. Free. 

Silence stretched between them. Izuku knew that Aizawa was thinking, about what to say. Most likely wondering if he could search for him again. 

“ Where are you? ” He was right. Aizawa never wasted a moment. 

“Does it matter?” 

“ It does to me ,” Izuku sucked in a deep breath. It didn’t. It didn’t. It was easier to think that it didn’t. 

“Well- if I tell what are you going to do?”

“C ome for you, ” Izuku laughed. Empty and perhaps a little bit sad. 

“I don’t think that’s wise,” 

“ Why not? ” 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping and getting ready for the raid tomorrow?” Izuku knew he was changing subject and so did Aizawa. But the man didn’t press. 

“ I’m more worried about you ,” He shouldn’t be, no one should. No one had. Until now. And Izuku didn’t know how to deal with that. How should he respond to that? He knew that it wasn’t something he could tell the hero to stop, it would only worry him more. The same with Shinsou. The teen was constantly worried about him but also didn’t press. 

“ Izuku? ” 

“Yeah-”

“ Happy birthday ,” Izuku gasped. 

“You- you know?” Of course, he knew. He looked at Izuku’s file after all. Of course, there would be his birth date mentioned. But the fact that he remembered. The fact that he said it to him. 

“ Hizashi also sends you his regard s,” Aizawa’s voice was light and yet it carried deep within Izuku. If only- he shook his head. 

“Thank you,” He mumbled, happy tears pricking at his eyes. It had been a rough day. 

He wished he could stay like that, just talking to Aizawa forgetting all about his worries. But the night was moving along and he had to get ready and so did Aizawa. Sooner or later they had to cut their call short. 

Putting his phone back in his pocket Izuku ignored the trembling in his hands and got up. There was no time to linger, no time to overthink. Just time to take action and go through this with no way back. He wasn’t about to give up. 

He went home. Slept for a bit. And was out once again to get to the location. It took him less than three hours to get there. Contacts and hair spray with him to touch up his appearance. It was risky to be out and about as the morning neared. He was still wanted across the whole country. As it showed in Hosu heroes did recognize him and it would do no good to get caught before he could execute his plan. 

Giran had messaged him that his package would be on someone whom he’d have to find only an hour before the shipment came in. Izuku grit his teeth- it made it more difficult to set everything up. As well as the idea that someone Giran sent would try and trick him- get the package for himself. 

Well, Izuku knew that if needed he could threaten the person. 

Unfortunately. As his luck would go. He was bound to run into someone he oh so desperately didn’t want to. It was a sign of having a very bad day. He should have taken it and left it, left the police to deal with the raid but nope. 

Walking to the destination to pick up his package, with only half an hour to spare Izuku was pulled into an alleyway. As he was in an unfamiliar city he had no idea of the ins and outs of the said city. It was big. He had no idea which parts of it were safer than others. Sure he had the hero patrols and general idea of the villains here. 

But nothing he could actually look up to help him immediately recognise the threat until he was face to face with it. Or him.

“Finally I have you,” A voice breathed right into Izuku’s ear and he repressed a shudder, whirling around trying to jump back but he was held by the scuff of his hoodie. God damn it why did this always happen to him? 

“Let me go, asshole!” Izuku slammed his elbow behind him hoping to get whoever had him. 

“Shut up brat,” The man threw him to the ground quick to stomp his foot on his back as Izuku wheezed having the wind knocked out. He looked back trying to catch the face of the guy. 

“I let you go last time but I’m not gonna make the same mistake twice,” 

Izuku was thrown on his back, and once again a foot pressed on his chest to keep him down. This way he could see the guy. 

Glaze. 

A chill ran down his spine as memories flashed of that horrid day. When he’d died so many times and lost any bit of sanity he had. When he had been so close to freedom only a day later. 

His body trembled under the man's grip. This was not good, not good at all. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He still asked, trying to push the foot off his chest. It hurt as hell. 

“Me? I want you dead,” Izuku grunted as the foot pressed harder over him. Of course, Glaze wanted him dead. After what he did to his buddy. It was no wonder. 

“But some other people want you in their clutches, and I’m tasked with bringing you to them,” Izuku cursed as Glaze leaned down bringing his hot palm close to his face. He could smell burning flesh trying to evade the palm but there was nowhere to go. Fuck. 

Glaze’s hand stopped right in front of his face, making him sweat. The heat prickled at his skin reminding him of the many times Kacchan had pressed his palms over him sparking his explosions just enough to feel the heat but not burn. It made him want to hurl.

“Oh how I wish I could burn your face right off, but the hero commission would not be happy with that. They need you in pristine condition. Can’t hurt their little toy now can I?” Hero commission? They wanted him? Fuck. That was bad. That was disastrous. He had been only through the idea out earlier when talking about his ways to escape. He hadn’t actually thought that was a possibility. 

Of course, they’d want him. He couldn’t die. Heck, he was basically immortal until old age claimed him if that was even possible. 

“Hero commission can go fuck themselves,” Izuku hissed, kicking his leg up and catching Glaze on his side who swayed under the kick. Izuku used the momentum to push the foot of his chest, screaming as Glaze’s hand caught the side of his cheek. 

He rolled away quickly to stand up ignoring the pulsing pain from the light burn. 

“What are you doing working for them anyway? Aren’t you a villain?” He needed to stall. Needed to figure a way out. He didn’t have anything on him to fight off Glaze. 

“That does not concern you Yami,” Izuku slammed himself into the alley wall as Glaze launched at him. He toppled to the ground narrowly escaping as Glaze roared clearly frustrated. Izuku had to run. But could he outrun Glaze? In an unfamiliar city? But he had to. There was no choice. He wasn’t winning this fight. No one-to-one. 

He got to his feet and ran off back into the street. It was bright outside but there was no one around. Maybe he could get to a more populated area with a hero around? Maybe then Glaze would fuck off? But that risked him being seen and picked up by said hero. But shit. He didn’t have his mask on he could pass just as a civilian. 

He ran heart thundering in his ears, his cheek burning. He didn’t look back- it would slow him down. But he knew that Glaze was just behind him, curses and shouts making it apparent. 

They would cause a scene sooner or later.

To his luck, he saw a mall at the end of the block. It was too early for it to be open but there would be security around it. If he could just manage to get their attention on Glaze maybe they would call for a hero. 

He rushed ahead his feed aching from hitting so hard against the pavement.

“Help!” He called out, feeling his heartbeat pick up as the two guards stood taller looking at them. Izuku ducked beside the mall, hiding behind a pillar. 

He looked back trying to catch his breath thankful as one of the guards had a phone to their ear. Glaze faltered just off his right. 

Everything happened too fast. Izuku was just about relaxed for a brief moment, to gather himself, when Glaze lunged at him, catching him off guard. His palm met Izuku’s neck in searing fire as he screamed trying to push the man off. He felt something bubbling under his skin as he pushed Glaze away. The man stumbled away toppling to the ground. 

He didn’t have time to process the whole thing as a hero arrived on the scene. Izuku fled. Once again running away as fast as he could not looking back. He weaved through streets, pulling up his hoodie ignoring the irritating pain on his neck and cheek from the wind hitting the wounds. He needed to get away. 

Perhaps by some stroke of luck, he ended up in an underground parking lot breathing harshly. But there was no one pursuing him. No one was coming after him. 

He looked down at his trembling hands, which felt weird. As if they were burning up. The energy pulsing under his skin. How did he push Glaze off? There was no way he was strong enough to push off a man twice his size. Was he going insane?

There wasn’t enough time to think about it. He was almost late to the meeting. 

With the last of his strength, he pushed off from the wall he had leaned against and set off. It took him ten minutes to locate the man who had his package. The man was leaning against a wall, twirling something in his hands. It looked like a rock. 

Izuku pulled up his mask, thankful that it hid the burns he’d gotten. Slow to heal as any other. Approaching the man he clicked his tongue gaining the man's attention and ducked into an alleyway away from the prying eyes of a waking-up city. The man followed narrowing his eyes. 

“Yami?” He raised his eyebrow at him as Izuku nodded. 

“Got what I need?” 

“Sure do kid,” The man pulled out a bag full to the brim with explosives. Perfect. As Izuku was reaching out to get the bag the man took a step back. “Ah but- I’m sure Giran doesn’t need to know if you got it now, does he?” 

Izuku raised his eyebrow. He was tired of this bullshit. 

“Give me the bag, you don’t want to make me angry,” Izuku hissed. He would need to write a complaint to Giran about bad business. 

“Or what?” The man smirked at him, taking the rock he was twirling in his hand and reshaping it into a sharp piece. Oh. A rock-shaping quirk? Something that allowed him to manipulate rocks or any type of mineral? Interesting. 

“Don’t you know what happens to people who cross Yami’s bad side?” Izuku hissed. The man faltered. Izuku couldn’t actually do anything now. If the man was smart he could actually just jab a rock into his chest leave him lying on the ground and just go on his merry way. But people were in general stupid and quick to fall back onto fear once threatened. 

“Should I remind you?” Izuku approached the man glaring him down. He was sure that his latest escapades gave him some sort of immunity. That people are fearful of making him angry, and getting on his bad side. 

“Give me the bag,” He hissed. He didn’t want to play games. He was dead tired. Had run around so much. Still unsure of what happened back then. But he wasn’t about to test luck again and go on another goose chase to get what he wanted. 

“Fine whatever” The man threw the bag at him as Izuku caught it. And yet the sharp rock shard followed, finding its way into his leg. Izuku grunted, hissing under his breath. He looked at his leg and the rock in his thigh. He pulled it out with a grunt splash of blood landing on the ground. 

“This yours?” He held up the rock to the guy who stared at him both in wonder and fear. “Do you need help getting that deep inside your guts? I’ve been told to have a good aim,” Izuku watched the man pale and rush away. It seemed he was more talk than bite. 

As soon as the guy left his sight Izuku nearly crumbled to the ground. Shit that hurt. He trembled keeping tears in check. His quirk was working in full swing. Why did he always end up hurt? 

He threw the rock to the ground, opening up the bag instead. Thankfully the explosives were there. It would have sucked if the man had changed them for rocks or something. 

Now he just needed to get to the warehouse. Needed to plant the explosives and wait. Just a bit more and it would all end. Just a bit more and he’d rest. 

Chapter Text

Had Tsukauchi known how things would turn out he would have made different choices. Had he known he would have. But he didn’t have a quirk that could tell him the future, just lies and truths of the current instance. 

And despite that, it felt like he was powerless even now. When the tension was all high and questions were raised. 

“What are we going to do about the kid?” Tsukauchi lifted his gaze from his table, where he had been staring at the raid information as it would give him answers to the many questions that clouded his mind. 

“Aizawa-”

“Tsukauchi you know he will be there,” Tsukauchi could only sigh. Of course, of course, he knew. Yami was unknown force to them for the most part but one thing was certain he would be there. Tomorrow he would be taking on the world by himself because it seemed like he needed to no matter what. 

“I do not want to sound ignorant but what makes you think so Aizawa?” Yagi spoke up, seated across from Tsukauchi, too tall for the chair but unwilling to sit on the small couch with Aizawa. It was for the better. 

Aizawa’s pointed glare made Tsukauchi flinch even though it wasn’t directed at him. Yagi shrunk in his seat despite being the tallest man in their group. 

“Yagi- Yami is prone to appearing in places with high risk of danger. As the one who set the plan in motion for the villain group, he will surely be there,” They were almost sure that Yami would appear. Yami was against Trigger, his doing the work for the yakuza was an act of desperation. It would only sound reasonable if he decided that he wanted to ‘fix’ his work. Despite knowing that it would backfire greatly. 

Research showed that Shie Hassaikai didn’t like it when they were taken advantage of. Their group had been quiet for a while until the last few years with spottings of their inner members. Though there was no illegal activity to their name as of late- the Trigger shipment would be a huge strike on their record. That going wrong would put a damper on any plans they had. But at the same time, it would target any accomplices to said disruption. 

Tsukauchi didn’t know how well the yakuza knew Yami, or how much information they had on the boy. But he was worried that whatever happened tomorrow it would put a huge red target on the kid's back. They had to act fast and ensure his safety. And yet their last talk broke any sort of trust they had with him. 

When he called Yagi he assumed that the man would be more tactful with his words. But he should have known. He wasn’t privy to the details of their prior meeting. Yaigi had been cagey about it. He should have known that it would be about One for All. He should have known that Yagi wanted Yami to be his successor. He understood that. Seeing the kid for who he was even in those little meetings they had. Yami was a hero in his own right. Strayed off the path and yet a hero nonetheless. 

Despite the criminal record, the boy had it all that could be bunched up to self-defence and some misinformation against Yami. Heck, the plan they worked out would fully take him off the criminal record and clear his name. Perhaps it wasn’t right in the eye of society. But he knew Yami wasn’t a bad person. Never meant to be in the position that he was in currently. It was a failure on their part. Especially had known the boy for over two years now. 

“Aizawa-”

“Do not- I am angry at you,” Tsukauchi sighed. It was not the time for creating issues between them especially when a raid was only a day away. But he couldn’t blame Aizawa. Had gotten so attached to the boy. He was worried. They all were. But Aizawa especially. 

When Yami stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Aizawa had seethed and went after him. But the boy had slipped away, disappearing into the early morning. No matter how much Aizawa had looked he had not seen the boy anywhere. He even went to his home but nothing. Calling him went to voicemail that seemed to never go through. 

It was as if the kid completely disappeared. Gone to the world. And that worried them greatly. Aizawa more than anyone else as he had been close to the kid. 

“Is everything finalized?” Aizawa spoke getting up from the uncomfortable couch. Yamada getting up right behind, had been silent the whole time. His brows were pinched together clearly in a flurry of emotions. 

“Yes,” Tsukauchi nodded and that was enough for Aizawa to excuse himself and head out. Yamada was hot on his feet, giving them more of a goodbye than the underground hero could muster. Tsukauchi didn’t blame them. Couldn't. Shouldn’t. And didn’t. 

Later when everything settled there was only relief. 

Izuku had taken the safest route into the warehouse from the roof. It was flat full of ventilation pathways. Thankfully for a building this big they were just the right size to squeeze through, though at some point it felt like he was suffocating on all the dust inside. He would not do this again if he could help it. 

But waltzing into the warehouse was a no-go. Not when there were multiple people surrounding it and most likely filled full with thugs inside as well. He couldn’t go inside and pretend he was there to check that everything was going according to plan. His work with yakuza was done. There was no reason for him to linger. 

He had to plant the explosives before the shipment arrived. There was only so much time left. 

His cheek and neck still burned, tingling as it slowly healed. He tried not to linger on the thought of Hero Comission, but his thoughts kept coming back to the idea that they wanted him. He knew that if his plan went awry then they very well could catch him. 

He had no intention of coming out of this alive or free. There was just no chance of that happening. Slipping away as if nothing happened. He knew the moment he took a foot outside after today the yakuza would have him dead in a ditch somewhere. If they managed. Otherwise, he'd be shipped to the nearest station for the police to deal with and now with the hero commission, they would pull him out immediately. Right into their clutches and have their merry way with him. He dreaded the idea. 

But one over the other he didn’t know which he’d prefer. Perhaps death. He was familiar with it. 

As Izuku had sat down to think. He realized that there was a few ways he could legitimately die. It would need either a super destructive quirk that would wreck his body before it could heal. Or well he’d need his limbs ripped off enough so that they would be fatal. 

He had never lost a finger or an arm or anything else. He didn’t know if his body could regenerate in such ways. But with how fast he healed he doubted it would be possible. If his head was blown off he’d be dead on the spot. 

Taking out the Trigger shipment and himself in one go seemed like a good plan. If only it worked so smoothly. 

He knew that the police were setting up a raid. He had given Tsukauchi all the information needed after all. He knew that. He’d seen the gathering of undercover police outside. Some heroes that shouldn’t be here at this time as well. 

He had planned for it. That’s why he wanted to set up the explosives before the shipment arrived. So he could blow the place up and not injure any of the police force and the heroes that were on the scene. 

And yet. The possibility of something going wrong was too high. He was sure that something would eventually. But he was naive and decided to proceed with the plan anyway. Decided that he could do this without a hitch. Stupid of him really. When the consequences ended far greater than he anticipated. 

He snuck into the warehouse, the bag of explosives heavy. He crouched behind some crates out of sight and sighed. He could do this. He wasn’t usually one for stealth missions like this. He opted to stay out of the fighting unless the people came right for him. He wasn’t good with staying hidden either, his body moving on his own more often than not when he knew that he could help someone in need. 

It had put him into a lot of unfavourable situations, many of which left him injured or running away from the police. Until he stopped being that someone to help people around, it was too big of a target on his back. He hated that part of himself that gave up. Hated that despite being unable to die he let others get hurt in his stead when he could help. 

But it didn't matter now. He should focus on the fact that he would be saving so many potential lives down the line with the stunt he wanted to pull. 

If everything went well he’d have no regrets. At least that’s what he wanted to believe. There would be many. More than he could count. He knew he would disappoint many people, especially Aizawa. He knew that. But he still went with it. It wouldn’t matter in the end. There would be no him to face those regrets. 

Izuku tensed hearing the men inside the warehouse move around, narrowing on his position. Had they discovered him? He had made no indication of being there, careful with keeping quiet. But he also knew himself that he had the shitties luck in the world and no matter how many precautions he took it would all blow up in his face in the end. No pun intended. 

But as it turned out the men neared the crates only to turn back. It seemed that they were pacing. Was something amiss? He strained himself peeking from the crates catching the sight of all the nine men now gathered in the middle of the warehouse, chatting with someone over a phone. 

He strained his ears trying to hear what they were speaking about but to no avail. He bit his lip unsure what to do. He could slip away and plant the explosives, especially when the men were distracted. It was the perfect opportunity. But then again missing any vital information about the location of the shipment could cost him. 

With a determined huff, he crept closer to the men. Hoping his steps were as silent as he imagined. Ducking behind more crates and nearing the position of the men. He was merely a few meters away, hidden behind a barrel. It was just big enough to hide his form, but if one of the men took a few steps to either left or right he’d be discovered. It was dangerous as hell. But he took the gamble and listened. 

“-many? Are you sure, that was not in the plan,” What sounded like the head of the little gang of the people, hissed into the phone. He was obviously dissatisfied with whatever was relayed to him. 

“That fucking kid-” He hissed and Izuku tensed. They couldn’t be talking about him, could they? But then again what other kid was twisted in all of this? No one but him. Any kid with at least a little bit of brains would steer away from the situation at hand. Izuku was not one of those people. He jumped into danger head first and hoped for a safe landing. 

“And the heroes? I understand.” The man sighed. “Late? Unfortunate. You’ll be paying us double for the trouble,” Izuku frowned. Late? Shipment was late? That shouldn’t be the case. That was not supposed to happen at all. He had made sure that despite any hijacks along the way the shipment would make it on time. He gave all the possible detour routes just in case. Had he underestimated the possible issue along the way? 

Or was there something else that was coming into play along with it? What didn’t he account for? What did he miss? 

Izuku couldn’t dwell on it for too long and leaned forward, and squatted low to the ground. He was a few steps away from larger crates where he could duck behind them and position himself to figure out a way to put the explosives in place. It was important to spread them out as much as possible. To ensure that the whole warehouse was going down. 

Ideally to deal with Trigger would be to freeze it. The chemical reaction within the drug would leave it ineffective. But he didn’t have anything that could deal with it. Any sort of ice quirks was rare and the technology to dispense ice in any shape or form was expensive as hell. And he couldn’t make the whole warehouse into a freezer either. So explosives it was. 

If Giran had done his job right the whole warehouse would go down, taking the truck with Tirgger along with it. No matter how resistant Trigger was, it wouldn't matter if the whole place blew up and burned. The liquid would simply vaporise. And in any case, the glass vials would just explode and there wasn’t much one could do to collect the drug from the ground. Even with liquid manipulating quirks the loss would be too great. Trigger would be in need of cleansing, as small particles of dust would reside within the liquid. And it couldn’t be injected into the bloodstream without side effects that could lead to a potential death. 

Izuku took a deep breath, listening to the men still talking and crawled forward. He couldn't stand up- his upper half of the body would be revealed immediately. It wasn’t dark in the warehouse. Awfully sunny as it was positioned with the windows catching the morning sunlight. Crawling forward made him slower but ultimately kept him safe. Well as safe as he could be when the men suddenly started laughing, loud and explosive making Izuku jerk his knee and hit the explosives in the bag. Which made a sound. 

Shit. He shouldn’t be flinching. Knew that he stopped somewhere a few months into starting his vigilante work. But trauma was a bitch and he started jerking and starling more in recent weeks. He kept it at bay most of the time but he was unprepared, far too focused on crawling forward to keep his instincts from flaring up. 

He could only hope that their laughing was loud enough to drown out the metal clink that came from the explosives hitting against each other in the bag. 

He stilled, heart beating so loudly he feared it would be heard. The laughing stilled. Izuku hoped that for once in his life he would be sparred. 

“Heard that?” One of the men muttered, footsteps nearing his position. It was dark-ish where he was. His clothes blending in. But no one could miss the body of someone crouched on the floor unless they were completely blind. 

“Relax man- no one’s here,” Some other guy said as the footsteps stopped a sigh following. 

“You’re right, doubt the police or any of the heroes would be ignorant enough to try and sneak in,” The men laughed again, snorting to themselves believing that the police had no actual idea of the location. That they were safe. 

Izuku felt blessed by their ignorance and managed to get behind the crates just fine. Thankfully it was one of the first positions where he wanted to plant the explosives. Sure the blast would be obscured mainly by the crates but it was the closest position to the centre of the warehouse where he could safely put the explosive and not have it discovered. 

The explosives Giran gave him were of high quality. They were insanely resistant and were unlike to accidentally detonate. Controlled by one button to all- it felt cliche but it worked. He pressed the explosive between two crates making sure that it wouldn't glint in the sunlight from the other side and looked around. 

The men had spread out back into their position, but it was okay. Izuku had more time than he initially had. With the shipment being late he could take a more cautious route to do his thing. It would be bad to rush this. He would do the right thing for once in his life. 

Aizawa knew that the order to do a sweep of the warehouse stemmed mostly from the need to ensure that Yami wasn’t in the warehouse or somewhere around the premises. The planned raid would be so much harder to execute if they had the kid around. But at the same time, the chances of Yami not being here were slim, almost zero. 

Aizawa didn’t rely on chance and he had to make sure that Izuku wasn’t there. 

From the start, the police team noticed that something was amiss. They had deployed the teams into the positions with fifteen minutes to spare until the shipment was to be delivered but there was no sign of the truck along the road. It seemed that something had come up to delay it. Which was not ideal but not something they couldn’t work around.

It made everyone restless. Aizawa had heard some officers mention the possibility of Yami delivering false information. But Aizawa knew that Izuku wouldn’t do that. There was no reason for that. It would do no good for him to lie and Tsukauchi hadn’t picked up any lies from him either. 

It had struck Aizawa to the core when Tsukauchi confessed to detecting no lie when Izuku mentioned the wish to die. Aizawa knew of Izuku’s wish to end his life- had been there to catch him falling off a building after all. But confirmation always struck more later. He hoped that he had instilled at least a little amount of trust in Izuku. 

In any case, Aizawa had to focus on keeping the kid away as much as he could if he was here. 

He had initially gone around the block, keeping to the shadows hoping to catch Izuku but there was no trace of him. Until he had Tsukauchi mutter into his com that a few blocks near a mall the guards picked up on a kid running away from a villain who got apprehended by a hero. But the said kid had disappeared right away. The sighting noted the kid exuded a strength enchanting quirk so it couldn’t have been Izuku. 

Aizawa still worried. The surrounding area had been evacuated quietly. They had been wary that it would raise suspicion of the villains tied to the drug shipment but it was early enough that something like that wouldn’t be noted right away. 

If Izuku was around then he was most likely inside the warehouse or hiding somewhere in surrounding buildings. 

Aizawa bit the bullet and ventured closer to the warehouse. He approached it from the back, keeping it low. There were some men going in and out every few minutes, most likely doing a sweep of the surrounding area. 

The initial plan of the raid was to capture the villains before the shipment arrived and apprehend the shipment as it arrived. But it posed a serious threat of the villains warning whoever was delivering Trigger to bail. It wouldn’t surprise Aizawa if Izuku had worked out a plan for yakuza in that case as well. Even though he hadn’t mentioned it. 

That’s wait they decided to wait until after the shipment had arrived to storm the place. This is why he slipped into the warehouse, managing to find a staircase that led to the rafters which were complex enough to move around unnoticed. He stayed in a corner sweeping across the place. He counted nine men moving around. His eyes flew around the place trying to catch any sign of Izuku. 

He heard Tsukauchi in his com mention that the first team had spotted the truck heading along the route. It should be at the warehouse in ten minutes tops. He had to act fast. 

Aizawa moved along the rafters coming closer to the center. He was high enough to still be in shadows but low enough that if he needed he wouldn't hurt himself if he had to get down with his capture weapon. 

He narrowed his eyes as something glinted behind one of the crates in the far right corner. Was it a trick of the light? No. He couldn’t dismiss it. Looking around he noted that there was another glint of something metallic attached to the staircase that led to the second floor which was nothing more than a few meters of platform not leading anywhere. 

He couldn’t see well enough but it looked like something was wrapped around the metal piece. Two small wires sticking out. Were those-?

He brought hadn to his com. “Tsukauchi- there are bombs planted in the warehouse,”

“ What- Eraser get out of there! ” Aizawa moved back to the corner he’d been initially positioned at, heart stopping when he finally saw him. Yami. Izuku. Perched on one of the further rafters, sitting with his feet dangling over the metal beam. Staring right at Eraserhead. Izuku pulled down his mask and shot him a small smile. Aizawa sucked in a sharp breath at the burn mark on his cheek. 

“I found Yami,” He mumbed into the com. He had clear orders to get out. To get back. but Izuku was right there. He couldn’t leave him there, not when he was so close to grasping him. 

“ Eraser I said get ou- ” Aizawa cut off the com. He knew he had to get out damn it. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he was a potential liability if he stayed and the bombs- explosives- whatever went off and he was high up in the rafters. But Izuku was right there. 

Perhaps he would have made a different choice if not for the talk the previous night. When Izuku thanked him, it set a heavy stone of worry in Aizawa’s gut. Heavier than the previous one. He knew that Izuku was not well, that he was ready to fling himself into the arms of death if the situation called. Leaving him behind right now would only end up in undeniable loss. 

Had he known the end result of the raid perhaps he would have backed out. Found a safer way to get the kid out of there. But he hadn’t. He fell back onto his mistakes made so, so long ago when he cared too much and ended up forgetting himself. 

Aizawa crept along the rafters, still keeping an eye on the men below but he quickly pulled himself on the beam opposite of Izuku. Izuku who hadn’t moved at all, only pulled the mask back on his face. Izuku's deep red eyes and hair fully black. Izuku who was Yami right. 

“Kid-” He choked out, noting more than a whisper but there was so much behind his words, lodged deep in his throat. He could only hope Izuku heard it all. 

“Hey Eraser, fancy seeing you here,” Aizawa looked at the boy in front of him, his shoulders hunched, body leaning forward as if a small push would have him sliding off the beam he was perched upon. 

“You should get out, you know, I don’t want you to get caught up in a blast,” Izuku murmured keeping quiet. Aizawa stilled. 

“You planted the explosives?” Izuku simply nodded, pulling out a small device from his pocket with a button in the middle. The detonator. 

“Shie Hassaikai would do no good with all the Trigger,” Aizawa was unsure how to proceed. His top priority was to get out with Izuku, to make sure both of them would be safe. He understood Izuku’s plan. But it was risky. It held up on loose strings that everyone would go according to plan. But in situations like these, it never did. Aizawa had worked long enough and participated in many raids to know it wouldn’t go according to plan. 

“We should get out,” Izuku flicked his gaze at him. His eyes were filled with so many emotions Aizawa wasn’t sure which ones to tackle first. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he remembered that it was Izuku’s birthday. That he was turning fifteen. Barely a teen- taking such huge responsibility on his shoulder. Throwing his life away along the way. 

“Izuku- come with me,” Izuku shook his head. 

“I can’t- this,” He shook the detonator in his hand. “Works only with limited radius, if I go- it won’t work.” Aizawa pressed his lips together. 

“You don’t have to do this, it’s not your responsibility,” A kid like him shouldn’t be sitting in the rafters of a warehouse he was intending to blow up. He wasn’t supposed to hold the burden of dealing with underground drug dealing. He shouldn’t be on the streets running around saving people when heroes were there when he was there. 

“But it is- I caused this mess, I should clean it up,” 

“Izuku-”

“Can you tell Shinsou I’m sorry as well?” Izuku wasn’t listening to him at all. He was set to do what he wanted to do. As if this was his last chance as if there was no future for him. Aizawa felt his heart tug. They didn’t have time. 

Aizawa flicked his comeback on. “Tsukauchi-” He muttered, hearing a response right away. 

“ ETA 2 minutes- get out of there!” Tsukauchi demanded. Aizawa cursed and leapt to the beam Izuku was on. If Izuku wasn’t listening to him then he had no choice but to move the kid with force. It wasn’t ideal. But there was simply no other way. 

“You’re coming with me,” He hissed, wrapping an arm around Izuku’s waist and hauling him up. Izuku struggled in his grip. It was dangerous so high up. They would be spotted sooner or later from the noise they were causing. But Aizawa didn’t have the luxury of being quiet when the drop was around fifteen meters. Landing wrong would kill. At best it would leave someone paralysed. 

“Stop- Eraser- Aizawa,” Izuku struggled slipping just so out of Aizawa's grip. Enough to tip and fall. He caught himself on the beam, but it was enough to alert the men below. 

“Who’s there!” One of them shouted. And yet at the very same time a vehicle- the truck- rolled into the warehouse. It happened fast. Too fast. But at the same time, it felt like it was in slow motion. 

Aizawa tried to grab Izuku but he slid off the beam falling down. Aizawa heard Tsukauchi shouting into the com but he couldn’t hear a word he said. His capture weapon flew to catch Izuku, himself flinging down on the other end to act as a counterweight. It ended up barreling them both straight to the ground as his capture weapon was long enough. They weren’t falling but it was near that. 

Following the truck, the raid started. Heroes barreling into the warehouse, followed by officers ready to apprehend the men. Izuku tried to get out of the capture weapon, sliding out just as he landed on the ground, Aizawa soon followed quickly to pull his capture weapon from the beam. But the time it took to get it back landed Izuku in the arms of one of the men who grabbed Izuku by his neck, bringing a sharp knife to his throat. 

Time stilled. Everyone stopped. 

“Drop your weapons and leave or the kid dies,” The man shouted rendering the warehouse silent. No one moved. No one said anything. The only sound was the truck. And Izuku snorting. 

“You think this is fucking funny Yami?” 

“It’s amusing how you’re holding a villain hostage in front of heroes,” Izuku simply said unbothered by the knife at his throat. 

“I don’t fucking care, I’m sure the heroes don't want a dead kid on their hands,” He pressed the knife harder drawing blood. It was enough to make the heroes back off. But not Aizawa, he stood still. He could pull Izuku with his capture weapon but he didn’t know if he would have enough time to do so without the knife cutting Izuku’s neck open. 

“You too Eraser-” Aizawa clenched his fist, catching Izuku’s gaze who stared at him, almost pleading. He hated to do this. Hated that he had to back off. Hated that he was unable to help and save him. 

This wasn’t a quirk he could erase. Wasn’t something he could fight without putting Izuku at risk. So he backed off, steps slow. 

“ Everyone is outside as soon as the man lets Yami go we proceed,” Aizawa muttered in affirmation. The moment Izuku was free they could act. They could take this down without an issue. 

As Aizawa stopped only a few steps from the door a resounding boom met his ears. He saw it before he heard it. The way the whole warehouse lit up, multiple explosives going off. 

The roof caved in, and crates flew in the air. People screamed and Aizawa got caught up in the blast flung against a wall, hitting his head. He blacked out just as he saw Izuku reaching for him. 

Izuku knew that it was a gamble. Knew that the moment the knife was pressed against his throat this was his chance. Surprisingly the thug ordered the heroes to retreat. It only worked out in his favour. Now he could detonate the explosives easily. He didn’t care about the thugs enough to wonder if they’d survive the blast. He didn’t care about anything other than getting Aziawa and the other heroes and the police out before he pressed the button, tucked in his pocket along with his hand. 

When he saw Aizawa just a few steps away from the door he pressed the button. It was inevitable that Aizawa would get caught up in the blast. But it wouldn’t kill him. He had less explosives at the entrance, only one on the roof. 

Izuku pressed the button and the blast went off sending everything into the air. He was let go, the knife slashing his neck more than he expected as he gurgled on his own blood, fire searing his body from the explosion. He was thrown halfway across the warehouse when the roof started to fall. 

It collapsed over everything, sweeping away all the thugs along with him. His body moved. Energy thrumming under his skin. The roof at the front just above him and Aizawa was collapsing last. 

It was probably nothing more than a few seconds but he saw Aizawa just under the metal beams that were falling and he flung himself forward. Hands connected to Aizwas's chest as he pushed, hands bursting into pain. The beams fell. Izuku was just under them as the fire roared around him. He blacked out Aizawa’s name just on the tip of his tongue. 

Aizawa came too slowly. His skin buzzed in pain. There was a fire just on his right as he rolled away from it, groaning when his hand flared up. It was dark, despite the fire. Dust and ash in the air. Everything was blocked around him by the rubble, metal and concrete. 

He looked around trying to locate Izuku, desperate to know that he was alright. That he was just fine. 

And yet- and yet he saw him. He was lying under metal beams, under pieces of rubble, bleeding out, fire lapping at his skin. It was all too reminiscent of back then, so many years ago. A friend ripped away from him so easily. 

He couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Kid!” Aizawa pulled Izuku from under the rubble and the beams, heart stuttering as he saw all the blood. His hands ached, hurt and twinged in pain but he pulled.  This was not good. This was not good at all. He grunted and pushed a stray piece of a boulder with his shoulder, getting the kid's arm from underneath it. Sick to his stomach he ignored the urge to hurl at the mangled arm. The skin was almost gone, and bone jutted out from a break. 

He coughed, making sure that he didn’t move the kid. Only pulling him into his lap as much as he could. 

He was bleeding from his head. There were burn marks on his cheek and neck, albeit scabbed over. His arm was broken beyond repair. There was something jagged into his side, almost completely through him. More burn marks littering his body.

He was so light in his hold. And yet Aizawa collapsed to his knees unable to support himself anymore. He pulled the boy close, pressing down on his side to stop any stray bleeding. His other arm going to run through Izuku’s curls, matted in dirt and blood. 

“Izuku-” He weakly called out, tears flowing from his eyes. He couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not when he was so close to pulling him out. 

He pressed harder into the wound, the blood just not stopping. Izuku made a weak protest in his arms most likely from the pain. 

“A-aizawa-” 

“Izuku-” He cried out bringing the boy closer. 

“I’m sorry-” Izuku coughed, blood dripping from his mouth, the cut on his neck was deeper than before. No. No. There was nothing to be sorry for. 

“Don’t talk- we’ll get you to help, it’s alright- just- just hold on okay, kid?” He would get him out. Would get him to safety and bring him home. To Hizashi, to their cat. To their home. Aizawa tapped at his com hoping that Tsukauchi’s voice would come through, but all he got was static. Shit. 

“It’s okay-” Izuku rasped out, relaxing in his arms. A small smile pulled on his face. “It’s okay Dad,” He coughed weakly. He was burning up. It was no good. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” He shushed Izuku who just shook his head. His eyes slipped shut. Izuku took a deep breath, slowly lifting his arm to press over Aizawa’s. His hold was weak, but Aizaw grasped his hand back, smearing blood all over it. Izuku smiled wider. “It’s okay Dad, really-” Izuku coughed his whole body jostling along with it. Blood on his lips. “-just, it’s okay-” He whispered his arm going slack. 

“Izuku- stay with me- Izuku!” He screamed as the boy went slack in his arms. No. It couldn’t be. He brought his shaking hand to his neck. Trying to find a pulse. Anything that would indicate that the boy was still alive. But nothing. 

He wasn’t breathing. There was nothing. He was still as the morning air. 

Nestled in Aizawa’s arms. Izuku died.