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Chapter Text

...

The ringing of Naomasa's phone woke him from his light doze. A quick glance at the clock told him that he only slept a few hours. With a tired sigh, he reached for the infernal device.

"Tsukauchi," his voice was gravelly from sleep.

"Naomasa! I know that you have just gone to bed, but a kid was dropped off at the police station."

Naomasa blinked slowly. The police station wasn't usually a safe haven. Typically a mother giving up their baby would go to a firestation or other safe havens.

"Why was the kid dropped off at the station?" He asked sitting up and stretching his neck.

"Well sir," drew out his subordinate sounding nervous, "The kid was from the missing kids case. A mental quirk."

Missing kid, oh good. They could get the child back to... what did he just say?

"Come again?" His tone sharp.

"Sir, the boy was brought in by an unknown individual," answered his subordinate.

"I'm on my way," growled Naomasa.

Don't let it be a vigilante. Don't let it be a vigilante. Don't let it be a vigilante.

A vigilante lasting more than a few weeks in Musutafu was unheard of. Hell, the last known vigilante was in Musutafu was three years ago and he was called the Crawler. Who was now a sidekick in America.

Please don't be a vigilante.

Naomasa changed into a fresh uniform and left after grabbing his trenchcoat. The drive over was fast, thankfully it was late enough the traffic was non-existent. The precinct was silent when he arrived. The usual receptionist wasn't at her desk but he had the feeling she was comforting the child.

Naomasa found a short child maybe six or seven years old sitting on one of the desk chairs. Sansa stood next to her acting as a protector. The little girl had a short brown hair falling just past her chin and hazel eyes. A small cat plushie was hugged close to her chest. Which explained why Sansa was standing guard.

"Tsukauchi Naomasa," his introduction was greeted with a polite bow, "I'm a police detective. Can you tell me your name and what happened?"

"Hazekawa Haruka," whispered the obviously frightened girl, "Mr. Black helped me. He beat up bad men with a stick."

Naomasa blinked a moment, he was a bit lost. Bad men, he thought he read that there were multiple perps. Mr. Black. There were multiple heroes that could be. Most of them were apart of the Underground but they would have stayed amd given a report. Even the antisocial Eraserhead would do so.

"How did Mr. Black find you?" Naomasa asked gently.

"I dunno," Hazekawa sniffed, "It was scary."

"I understand. Did Mr. Black bring you here?"

Hazekawa nodded.

"Did you recognize his face?"

"N-no," stuttered the little girl, "I c-couldn't really see. He wore a mask."

She made as if pulling one up to under her nose. Edgeshot? No. He didn't wear all black. That would point to an underground hero or vigilante.

"Are any of these people, Mr. Black?" Asked Sansa.

He held up a few pictures of Underground heroes. To each one she shool her head and that confirmed it.

Not a hero. Great. Naomasa really hoped it was just a one time event. He really didn't have time for a vigilante right now.

"Hazekawa," started Naomasa, "You are safe here. We are going to find someone to take care of you. Okay?"

She nodded shyly. He nodded to Sansa before going to make a few calls. It was going to be a long night.

...

Cold emotionless green eyes stared at the crime scene below him. Law enforcement were trying to keep the public from seeing the body. A child's body.

It was one of the children who disappeared weeks before. Maybe they tried to escape when one was successfully rescued. Maybe the perpetrators were getting rid of witnesses and would try again later. He wasn't sure which it was yet. The next few days would decide that.

Izuku leaned against his cane taking his weight off his aching leg. He rubbed at the muscles above his knee. Somethings never changed.

With a quiet sigh, he took a deep breath before moving to start his patrol again. Rooftops were his safe place in this world. No one was looking for him.

Chapter Text

...

Naomasa looked at the pictures and witness statement in his hands. This was the fourth murder victim of the same M.O. A man or woman would abduct the victims and torture them. Then the killers would dump the bodies near a major road, or a location where it was certain that someone would discover the bodies quickly.

It was only one part of the problem. The second part being the vigilante they dubbed Ghost. Naomasa was pretty sure that Ghost, was also Mr. Black as the few rescued children called him. They all gave the same description. A short thin figure dressed in all black using either a cane or a staff to aid in walking and as a weapon. Ghost's voice was distorted by a voice changer so no one could give an approximate age.

It wasn't even a month since the first child was dropped off and things were becoming a bit out of control.

Ghost would often lead the police and heroes to the children or would take down villains on their own. While helpful, Ghost had no right to be taking the law into their own hands.

A knock sounded and his door opened, "Detective, a word."

Kenji Tsuragamae stood in the doorway. He looked almost as tired as Naomasa did. The chief was a dog-headed man wearing a suit, which was wrinkled.

"Yes sir," he put the folder down.

Tsuragamae stepped inside closing the door. The silence between them was heavy and tense. It had been awhile since Tsuragamae had come to talk to him. With the mountain of cases Naoamsa took on there just wasn't time.

"The Vigilante," he started, "The one we've been calling, Ghost? The Hero Commission, wants him caught. They want you assigned full time to it until he's caught."

"Already?" Asked Naomasa, "Ghost has only been active for about two weeks. Why not assign one of the Undergrounders on this?"

"They don't want this to turn into another Crawler situation," admitted the other man, "They want Ghost caught as soon as possible."

Naomasa frowned.

"Is there anyone else that you could pass it on to?"

"No," answered the other.

"Okay," agreed Naomasa, "Anything else?"

"Be careful," advised the chief, "Ghost hasn't hurt anyone. So, hopefully they stay that way."

"Yeah," nodded the detective, "We don't need another Stain."

Another Stain or Crawler. Both would make them look incompetent. There was a right way and a wrong way of doing things. Taking the law into one's own hands was definitely the wrong way.

"You can use whatever resources you need," finished Tsuragamae, "Including the Undergrounders if it becomes necessary."

Well that was something at least. Naomasa would pay a visit to Heron and the Tavern to see if he had anything of use. If anyone had solid information on a newcomer to the scene it would be the Tavern information network.

...

Izuku sat at the bar waiting for Heron to meet him. The Tavern was a simple building almost like any other bar. It acted as a neutral ground for Heroes, vigilantes, and criminals alike to gather information. Age did not matter except for drinking. All werre welcoke as long as they could pay.

No one could attack anyone inside or with 10 meters of the building. To do so would mean being blacklisted by the Tavern. Owners and those who worked for the Tavern were marked by a tattoo on open skin. Outside of fighting on Tavern grounds the biggest offense a person could do was attack an owner.

Izuku's left hand flexed. Under his glove the black ink moved. His fingers traced over the lines. It wasn't needed. At least not yet. If he had his way not ever.

"So," a deep voice spoke up, "You must be my first appointment tonight, Izuku Midoriya."

Heron was a tall man in his late fifties. Most would think he didn't have any muscle on him but they would be unpleasantly surprised. While he might be out of the game for more than a few decades now he was still quite strong. Short brown hair with flecks of grey in it fell into hazel eyes. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black slacks, and polished dress shoes. The hazel eyes took in everything about Izuku.

Unlike when Izuku was patrolling, he wore a grey hoodie, green t-shirt, black cargo pants and combat boots. The hood was pulled up so the majority of his face was shadowed. His cane laid next to him and the emerald glowed.

"Heron," the man introduced himself, "If I knew you were a kid..."

"Doesn't change a thing," Izuku interrupted, his voice altered, "Taverns will work with for anyone who can pay. First appointment?"

"It is. What is the information you are looking for?"

"Everything you know about the murders and the kidnappings," calmly answered Izuku.

Heron considered him for a long moment. Izuku stared back with cold grey green eyes. He would go after them with or without the information. The information would just save him some time.

"You're going after them," he said flatly.

"If there is one thing I cannot stand," said Izuku in an equally flat tone, "Are those who go after children. I will stop them with or without your help. This will simply make it easier for me to bring them down sooner."

"You'll die," bluntly stated Heron as he leaned back on his heels, "I'm not going to send a kid off to die. You're what, 12? 13 at most? Go home, kid. Leave the hero work to the adults."

In an instant Izuku was in front of the Tavern his bottom of his staff tapping the man under the chin. The man blinked at the youth in shock. Then the staff was pulled away and Izuku leaned forward onto it catching the hazel gaze.

"My age is irrelevant," he repeated darkly, "I am not to be underestimated. Now I will be going after them regardless of what you give me. Your information will simply allow me to get there quicker and save more lives. Now will we be doing business, Heron?"

"Everything okay here?" Asked an unfamiliar male voice.

Izuku glanced over to the newcomer. Another adult. He was shorter than Heron, had black hair and dark eyes. He wore a trenchcoat. A badge could be seen glinting from his hip.

"Who's asking," asked Heron.

"Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa," replied the officer.

"Ah," the tension eased from Heron, "He's just leaving."

Izuku raised an eyebrow, but Heron caught his gaze and nodded. He would give Izuku the information. Just not in front of the detective. Good.

Izuku stepped back from the two men. The detective looked as if he wanted to say something. Then he thought better of it. Neutral grounds. It worked in Izuku's favor, at least in this night.

Happy Hunting, detective. Happy Hunting.

Chapter Text

...

Izuku leaned against his cane as he watched the traffickers below. There were four outside and at least five more on the inside. He could easily add three or four more to that. 

Over the last week he spent all of his free time when not on patrol, reviewing the files. Heron was worth his price and deserved his reputation. Memorizing their quirks was easy.

There was movement at the entrance of the district. Izuku turned his head to see a police car approaching. Surely a detective wasn't going to try and take the warehouse alone? They wouldn't be that stupid. Right? 

He wasn't going to hold his breath.

Sure enough, Detective Tsukauchi stepped out and there were several other stepping out. Unfortunately there weren't enough. Only one hero definitely wasn't enough even if it was Eraserhead. Izuku hackked into their comms easily. 

"Eraser, are you sure?" Quietly asked the Detective into the comms, "If they aren't there, or the kids are..."

"This is the best intel we've had," whispered Eraserhead.

So Tsukauchi got similar information as Izuku. Izuku was tempted to leave and let them deal with it. If he did though they'd likely end up dead. Or the kids would. 

Choices. Choices. 

Tsukauchi sighed, "I won't leave the kids. This is supposed to be a recon mission but I won't leave them. What about you?"

The other officers nodded if reluctantly.

"If there are no objections then," the Detective nodded.

"Detective, I've had your back before," answered Eraser, "I have it again. I trust your instincts."

"Thank you," answered Tsukauchi, "Okay, everyone move into positions. Keep the channel clear."

To stay or go? He didn't have an emotional investment on this. No, his job was just to clean up the streets and keep his home safe. These people would have died later, he reminded himself.

He was tired of caring. The only reason he was still alive was because he knew it wouldn't do any good. While others died, he never stayed dead. Just moved worlds. 

That's what he told himself. He wouldn't save them. Why would he? What good would it do?

Nothing would change. What was the point of living anymore?

"Move in," came the quiet command.

With a soft sigh, he decided. If they were going to fight. If they were going to risk their lives and the lives of the kids. He wouldn't leave, this time. If they needed a hand he would step in. 

His left hand flexed over the green gem of his cane. 

...

Shouta had a deep gash to the side of his head. His vision was pretty much double as blood dropped from his temple. One of the villains got a good hit on him. Naomasa was handcuffed to his left with a bullet wound to his shoulder. 

Four officers were down and not moving. That was not a good sign. They were in a large room that could have been a conference room. A dozen kids were sitting huddled in a corner. Some of the smaller kids were crying and others were shaking in terror.

A dozen villains stood surrounding them. They were talking about escaping from the warehouse. Escaping but killing the hero and the kids. Shouta could feel his heart racing and his breath coming fast.

He could still hear Naomasa and the officers groaning in pain. Shouta tried to stand and failed. With his hands bound he was stuck on his knees.

"What a fucking mess," said the leader, a woman in her twenties with long blond hair, "We didn't ask for a raid, ya know. You should have left well enough alone. But no. You fucking heroes decided to stick your noses where they don't belong. I expected this of that new vigilante. But you! You should know better."

The blonde's blue eyes were crazed. Shouta was trying to activate his quirk. He could barely focus, the blood loss was getting to him.

A mess was right. They should have waited to ensure they had more people. Or not gone in until they knew how many villains there were.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it. Then we can finish what we started," smirked the villain.

Then she looked behind the heroes.

"Now, Mr. Eraserhead, you have been a thorn in my side for years," taunted the blonde as she stalked towards them, "I have a score to settle with you."

Before she could take more than a step, the light suddenly went out. There were flashes of green and gold. Then there were screams of pain from the villains and the sound of bodies hitting the concrete. 

"Where are you?!" Cried the villian leader.

There was the sound of metal striking bone and a crack. More lights were flashed. When the light came back on there were a dozen or so unconscious or dead villains scattered on the ground.

A cane was being lowered and a familiar figure in a dark grey hoodie and a black mask was standing there. Shouta couldn't really tell the gender or age of the vigilante. 

It was Ghost. The vigilante no one but the villains and their victims had seen so far.

Ghost had his staff pressed against the side of the blonde's neck. The woman was pale and trembling. Her legs gave out and she slid down the wall. Scattered on the ground under the villain and vigilante was a gold shimmering dust. 

"Y-you!" She sputtered, her fear and hate clear.

"Yes," agreed the distorted voice.

"Who the fuck are you?" she snarled. 

"Depends on who you ask," replied the vigilante, "Children call me, Mr. Black. But the heroes and villains call me, Ghost."

The blonde glared hatefully, "Well, what's the plan now? Going to turn me in, or kill me."

Ghost shrugged before kicking her in the side of the head. Then he rubbed his right leg as if it pained him. He glanced at the heroes before moving towards the kids.

Shouta realized how badly the vigilante favored that leg. It was a wonder he could put any weight on it at all. How could he fight if he was that injured?

Ghost was a few steps away when one of the villains regained consciousness. Shouta wasn't sure which one.

"Ghost," Barked Shouta, "Behind you!"

What happened next, he was unsure about. One moment the vigilante was approaching the kids. The next there was a flash of green and gold. The villain collapsed and Ghost was next to the kids. 

What the fuck was that? It was unlike any quirk he'd ever seen. Was that the vigilantes power?

"Everyone alright?" calmly asked the vigilante.

The children shied away and huddled closer. They were obviously frightened and had been abused. Ghost was unbothered by their behavior and continued checking them for injuries. Then he cut away the the binds one by one. 

Once the kids were free and coldly checked on the officers. Even without saying anything, Shouta knew what he found. They were all dead. When he got to Naoamsa, Ghost pulled out some bandages and hit the emergency button in the detective's belt.

"You're safe now," Ghost spoke softly.

Shouta couldn't see his face. There were no hints about who was under the mask. All Shouta could hear was a slightly distorted voice.

"Who are you?" asked Naomasa quietly.

"Mr. Black, Ghost, I answer to both," he said with a shrug, "We aren't friendly enough for anymore of an explanation. Hold this and apply pressure."

The detective did as ordered and the vigilante moved on. He stopped beside Shouta. He knelt so that he could get a better look at Shouta's head wound. Shouta got the distinct impression that he was frowning. A penlight came out and was shown into Shouta's eyes. 

"You have a concussion," muttered Ghost as he cut the binds, "Your backup should be coming soon. This isnt the main group. Next time don't raid with such a small group."

Thus guy was different. Vigilantes didn't normally act like this. Shouta wasn't sure how to take it.

"They killed those officers," muttered Shouta.

"Everyone dies at some point, hero," dully replied the vigilante. 

What kind of logic was that? Sure everyone dies but they didn't have to die!

Sirens sounded in the distance. Ghost sighed heavily. He turned his head to look at the doorway. Then the vigilante stood and made his way out the door.

"Wait!" called Shouta.

"Next time wait until you are properly prepared," advised the vigilante.

...

In the hospital Naoamsa waited for the doctor to finish his stitches. Thankfully, he had gotten his arm patched up. It wasn't life threatening. Things would have been so much worse if Ghost hadn't shown up.

Ghost... what was with that man? Naoamsa didn't know what to make of him. He got the distinct impression that Ghost wasn't really seeing them. That he was acting on some strange impulse that only he understood. 

This vigilante was unlike anyone he had ever come across before.

"Done," stated the doctor, "You will have to rest for a while, or at least light duty. The stitches will have to come out in two weeks."

Truth. 

Naoamas bowed, "Thank you."

The doctor waved him off and Naoamsa slowly made his way towards the exit. A moment later, Chief Tsuragamae entered with Nezu on his heels. Both men had worried looks on their faces.

"How are you feeling?" asked the Chief.

"Sore," admitted the detective, "Concussed. But nothing too serious. It's mostly waiting to heal."

Tsuragamae's shoulders eased as he sighed, "That's good. I was informed by the paramedics that your team was ambushed. No one would say who died. Is there a list?"

Truth. 

"Unfortunately," answered Naoamasa.

Regret filled his stomach. They should have waited. But the thought of the missing children being killed and the police unable to do anything.

Tsuragamae gave him a pat on his good shoulder and said, "I know. But sometimes no matter how careful you are, things just don't go as planned. Is it true that Ghost was there?"

"Yeah," Naoamasa nodded, "But I can't give you much."

"No," sighed the Chief, "Not that I expect anything else."

Truth. 

Nezu hummed, his eyes studying the detective. Naomasa shifted nervously under the stare. There was something odd about the Principal. As if he was thinking hard on something.

"Shouta gave me a description," said Nezu after a moment, "A short man with green eyes. He has a bad right leg and carries a cane. His quirk produces this dust."

Truth.

Nezu held up a vial of a golden dust that he hadn't seen before. It was finer than anything Naomasa had seen before. It shown in the light of the hospital room. 

"It's finer than sand or any dust that I've seen before," continued Naomasa after a moment, "I'm going to run some tests on it. If that's okay with you, detective?"

Truth. 

"Of course, Nezu," he quickly replied, "We welcome any help and advice you can give."

Nezu smiled brightly.

Chapter Text

...

Naomasa's first stop was his desk. There were folders and notes scattered on the desk and a whiteboard was hanging from the wall. There were pictures, newspaper clippings and notes tacked onto the board. It was the case involving Ghost.

While Tsukauchi would be happy if Ghost never showed up again. He knew that wouldn't happen. Vigilantes didn't just disappear. They either died in the line of duty or were caught.

With a sigh, he took the files and the information Nezu sent over. So far thr sand wasn't showing up as any known material. They were doing more tests but it wasn't organic from what they could tell. The main issue though was that it was disappearing and fast. Already 3/4s of it was gone. There was barely enough to do a few more tests. 

When he opened his desk Naomasa was shocked to find a phone in it. The phone wasn't one of his or any of his colleagues. He didn't know how it got there. 

Before he touched it, Naomass accessed the security footage. Which much to his annoyance it showed nothing. No one entering or leaving his office until he arrived. With a frown he used a handkerchief to pick it up. It had a note stuck to it.

Detective Tsukauchi,

Use this to contact me if you need me. The chat is already there. 

Ghost

Ghost was opening a dialog with him? Why? Naomasa frowned at the note. While it was helpful, it wasn't much. He had the feeling the note was written quickly and then added the information.

He had the sinking feeling the Ghost didn't know him or trust him. That the vigilante was taking a risk.

The phone was simple. The chat program was already loaded. It had three users in it. Himself, Eraserhead, and Ghost. This vigilante was the oddest person he ever met.

Naomasa stared at the screen and decided to open the program. The conversation was simple and straight to the point.

Detective: I am Detective Tsukauchi. Thank you for helping us.

Ghost: You are welcome.

Eraser: What the fuck, Ghost?

Ghost: We have the same goals. Figured this would make things easier.

Eraser: How did you get my number?

Ghost: Heron isn't the only one who can gather information. You don't have to use the chat. I don't care what you do either way. 

Detective: We will take your help. At least until we catch you. 

Ghost: Good luck with that Detective. So far the only time you've seen me, is when I've let you. Good night. 

With that the vigilante logged off. Ghost was going to give him a migraine. 

...

Izuku was leaning against his cane. In front of him was the remains of a fire. There was no evidence left except the bodies and the building.

He was lucky he had the chance to save part of t he family. Most would not have gotten the opportunity. The fire had consumed everything.

The parents were burnt beyond recognition. Luckily he saved the two and four year old. They currently clung to his jacket crying for their parents. 

Neighbors began to leave their houses just as the fire department arrived. Most people mistook him for being an Underground Hero. As soon as he extricated himself from the children he was able to leave. Which for him meant he went to the rooftops to watch. 

The fire wasn't normal. The smell of oil was thick. Something was definitely wrong here. He was fairly certain the fire had been deliberately set.

He'd wait for the firefighters to put it out before starting his work. For now, his job was done. 

...

Izuku leaned against his cane as he entered the building husk. He had his hood and mask down. The air was heavy with ash and smoke. His shoes crunched on the ground as he stepped on glass and debris.

Carefully bending down he checked the ash. There wasn't much to see but the texture was off. A hum escaped him. It didn't seem to be oil. Not really.

It could be a new quirk. Something like an emitter or mutation type. Maybe an elemental quirk? Or it could just be the remnants of the accelerant.

His left hand clenched the top of his cane. His eyes scanned the room. The walls had the tell tale signs of acceleratant. A trail from the floor led towards the bodies.

The feeling of being watched made Izuku pull his hood and mask up. Time to go. He'd hack the computer to get the reports. 

Chapter Text

...

Izuku was standing on the roof of a warehouse. He had the hood and mask in place. His eyes were focused on the scene below. A local small time hero was fighting a group of villains.

The hero was getting beaten back and was bleeding badly. The fight was turning into a losing battle. A deep sigh left him. It was better to step in now, rather than wait. He called up his cane and jumped from the rooftop.

Before he hit the ground he tapped the cane against the wall. Time slowed and green and gold dust floated around him. The second his feet touched the ground he spun. The sound of metal hitting flesh and bone was satisfying.

Then he tapped his cane against the ground and each of the villains dropped unconscious. The dust settled and his leg flared with pain. Gritting his teeth, he forced the pain away. He'd have to rest his leg after this was done.

"Ghost," greeted Eraserhead.

"Eraserhead," returned Izuku coolly eyeing the hero.

Eraserhead was a tall man wearing a black trenchcoat over his uniform and a pale yellow binding cloth. A grey capture weapon was wrapped around his neck. The signature goggles were resting on his forehead. Dark circles rested under dark brown eyes.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Eraserhead.

"Doing my patrols," answered Izuku with a shrug.

The hero looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead his mouth snapped shut. His shoulders were tense and the silence was heavy. Izuku was tempted to ask if the hero was alright. That wouldn't have ended well as Izuku was a vigilante.

Izuku pulled out his phone and sent a message off to Tsukauchi. Then his gaze turned to the villain's. They were still knocked out. Nothing too serious. Maybe a broken bone or a concussion. He didn't think it would be anything that a medic couldn't handle. As long as they were treated soon, at least.

"Vigilantes," muttered the hero in a disgusted tone.

"I've had worse jobs," agreed Izuku, his eyes not moving from the perps.

"Jobs," snorted the hero, "This isn't a job. You don't get paid."

Izuku shrugged. Money wasn't that important in the grand scheme of things. Besides, no one would hire a Quirkless kid, so he didn't have a legal source of income.

Eraserhead stepped closer to Izuku. In response Izuku tightened his grip on his cane. Izuku had to wonder what the hero was planning. Did he want a fight? Was the hero going to try and arrest him?

"You shouldn't be out here," said Eraserhead.

"What do you think I should be doing then?" He returned darkly.

Izuku knew he was being an ass but be didn't care. Eraserhead opened his mouth to argue or order him to put down his staff. He didn't get the chance. One of the villains lunged to at the hero likely hoping to take him by surprise.

Unfortunately the villain didn't expect the vigilante to jump in the middle of the attack. Metal struck the arm where it met the wrist shoving it away from Eraserhead. Then tapped his cane against the ground. Green and gold dust scattered around him as time stopped. He flipped the villain over his shoulder slamming him into the ground. He twisted both arms behind the villain's back and handcuffed them.

As he stood he tapped his cane against the ground again. Time resumed and the other villains cried in pain. Their leader was on the ground. With a quiet sigh, Izuku rubbed at his aching leg. Eraserhead looked between him and the villain contemplatively. Then he looked down at Izuku's left hand.

"Are you going to try and stop me from leaving?" Asked Izuku as he leaned against the cane.

Eraserhead shook his head and said, "Not tonight."

"Just tonight," asked Izuku, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"Until I have a reason to turn on you," gruffly answered the pro.

"That's fair," nodded Izuku, "Get your head looked at hero. You probably have a concussion."

Eraserhead nodded and Izuku used the fire escapes to escape to the rooftops.

...

Shouta didn't chase the vigilante. He was pretty certain that Ghost had a point. His head was throbbing and his vision was beginning to blur. Concussion was a possibility, especially given that last blow to the side of the head.

Instead, he knelt to cuff the remaining villains. It was odd to see the vigilante willing to help. Normally they were more interested in fighting and showing off their quirks. While he used his quirk it was in an efficient way.

A good hit, and then knocking the villains out. Shouta had to give him credit. It was the best way to keep the villain from causing more damage or trying to escape. It was something a lot of young Pro Heroes forgot to do.

Shouta thought back to the vigilante's body language. The ease in his posture. The calmness in his eyes and the confidence in his stance. This was an older person not a teenager playing at Hero. Not an inexperienced fighter or someone who was just learning to control his quirk. No, this was an adult who was comfortable using his quirk. An adult who was used to fighting for their life without any hesitation to protect those around him.

Just how old was the vigilante? Why had he not become a hero?

He couldn't imagine anyone not wanting to be a hero. To have a chance to help people and save them. What kept the vigilante from becoming a hero?

"Hey, Eraser," spoke a familiar voice, "Are you okay?"

"Tsukauchi," greeted Shouta, "Yeah, I have a nasty concussion. Got blindsided by the villains. I got a little help though."

"Help," repeated the detective, his voice was suspicious, "Ghost was here, wasn't he?"

Tsukauchi glanced around the alley. The green and gold dust was beginning to fade already. There was nothing left of the vigilante. If it wasn't for the evidence, and Shouta's memory, he'd think the vigilante was a ghost story. Just another piece of urban lore.

"Yeah," agreed the Underground Hero, "He saved me."

"Damn," muttered Tsukauchi.

Chapter Text

...

Nezu hummed as he finally recovered some of the videos of Ghost. Unfortunately the video was grainy and the audio had a hard time picking up the altered voice. Still, Nezu had the perfect opportunity to study the newest Vigilante. So far, this man was quite the mystery.

He was short for an adult and seemed to have a bad leg. From what he saw on the screen the vigilante was a very skilled fighter. He fought in a manner that was different from the average martial artist or self taught fighters. Nezu would have to look further into his fighting style.

The next interesting thing was his abilities. Green and gold dust appeared to be floating around the Vigilante. Even with the video he wasn't tye attack itself. All the cameras managed to catch was a flash of light. Was that the activation of his quirk?

Nezu frowned and took a sip of tea. This wasn't adding up to him. Dust didn't appear in the air and float like that. Nor did it last very long. Naomasa and Shouta tried to bring him samples. By the time they made it to the station, most of it was gone. Only a few traces of the dust had remained in the vial.

So, either the vigilante had an accomplice, or his quirk was not an emitter type. Which didn't make a whole lot of sense to Nezu. If the Vigilante didn't have an emitter type, what was the source of the dust and the light?

Nezu rewound the video and replayed it. Slowly, the principal went frame by frame. There, the vigilante's hand was gripping the green stone tightly. He tapped it on the ground right before the dust activated.

Was that the trigger? Was the cane a part of the quirk or a tool to access the power? Or was that his weapon of choice and the quirk was an invisible one?

Nezu sighed heavily. He ran a paw down his face and leaned back in his chair. This vigilante was a puzzle. A fascinating and intriguing one but a puzzle all the same. What were his motives, his goals. Why not be a hero or a police officer?

Why be a Vigilante?

There wasn't an obvious answer. Nezu was fairly certain the only way to find out was to get the vigilante to trust him or capture him. Either would take a great deal of effort and luck.

Nezu allowed a small smile to cross his face. Challenges were something that he enjoyed. They kept his mind active and his instincts sharp. Yes, he would enjoy this. The mousebear was looking forward to seeing the vigilante's next move. And maybe he would enter the field for the first time in years.

...

Izuku leaned against the edge of the rooftop watching his target. The arsonist was younger than he expected. Early twenties at the oldest. Short brown hair and muddy brown eyes. He was thin and almost emaciated. Likely a combination of drugs and lack of proper nutrients.

His fingers flexed on his cane, the runes on his left hand itching. He was going to bring the guy down tonight. No more arson. No more victims of his fires. Especially the families.

It had taken a week to track him down. Hacking the cameras was easy. Figuring out the path and the pattern of the arsonist was the hardest. But Izuku finally found him. He was waiting to see where the man's bolt hole was.

The man started walking down the street and ducked into the next alley. Quickly, Izuku jumped to the next roof and followed the man. They were headed towards the warehouse district.

Eventually the man entered a large building. Izuku waited on the roof a moment before he messaged Tsukauchi and Eraserhead his location. Then he dropped down from the rooftop. He rolled to cushion his fall and quickly made his way to the door. The second the vigilante entered the building the stench of gasoline and smoke assaulted him. He coughed and raised his sleeve to cover his mouth and nose.

Mentally he made a note to make a mask that could filter out gasses. That would come in handy in the future. His eyes scanned the room. Empty bottles of alcohol were scattered on the floor. Some were shattered, others were half full. There was a stained and torn sleeping bag in the corner. It was surrounded by piles of newspapers and cardboard boxes.

So this wasn't another target for the arsonist. This was in fact the man's hideout. Good. Now, where had he gone? Just as the thought hit him, Izuku felt the air shift. He spun and his staff blocked the incoming blow. A metal baseball bat was caught between his cane and the concrete wall.

The owner of the bat was the arsonist himself. Brown eyes met green. Both pairs glared. Flames licked up the man's arm. Fire creation quirk?

Fire wouldn't do much against his cane. Though that wasn't the case for Izuku's own body. Getting burned was not on his to-do list. Too painful and too much of a risk. Izuku knocked the wrist away. He tried to bring his cane down to tap it against the floor when was rushed from the shadows.

Just in time he brought his cane up into a guard. Metal clanged and sparks flew. The newcomer's knife slid off his cane. Then the assailant stepped back. Izuku's breath froze at the sight of her. She was 15-16 at most. She had long black hair and grey eyes. Her skin was pale.

Izuku didn't recognize her from his previous lives but that wasn't uncommon. Sometimes the people were the same, sometimes not. He flexed his hand a little over the gem of his cane.

"I'm only here for the arsonist," he said after a moment.

She didn't lower her blade. Instead she shifted her stance. He sighed heavily and lowered his cane. As soon as the tip touched the ground, the girl lunged. Gold and green dust filled the air and as he grabbed her arm. Before she could react, he flipped her onto her back. Then cuffed her arms behind her back. Time restarted and the teen grunted in pain. He winced as his knee twitched in pain.

As he stood, his gaze turned to the arsonist. The man's eyes were narrowed and his lips pulled into a snarl. He was about to lunge when a blur of black slammed the villain into the nearest wall. Eraserhead had arrived.

"About time, hero," muttered Izuku, rubbing his aching knee, "Here I thought I was the only one patrolling tonight."

"Don't be a smart ass," grumbled Eraserhead his eyes flashing red with his quirk, "I got here as soon as I could. Don't move, Ghost. We need to talk."

Izuku snorted. Yeah, like that was going to happen. He had no interest in talking to the heroes. His powers weren't quirk related and thus Eraserhead's quirk wouldn't work on him.

With that in mind, he tapped his cane against the floor. Everything stopped. When the world resumed, Izuku was long gone.