Chapter Text

Chapter 14:

The night before the U.A. Sports Festival, Izuku and Stain were roaming around Hosu's criminal district looking for trouble. Or rather, Stain was looking for corrupt heroes and trouble simply happened to follow Izuku wherever he went. Over the past two weeks, this had become something of a routine. During the day, Izuku researched hero agencies and tinkered with materials he found in the dumpster; at night, he met Stain in Hosu and followed him across rooftops, alleyways, and abandoned buildings while helping identify heroes who fit the Hero Killer's criteria. 

It was surprisingly fun. 

Not the murder part, well, mostly not the murder part — they did come across a hero who was turning a blind-eye to a trafficking job and Izuku took great pleasure in watching him die — but Izuku genuinely enjoyed the investigations. Every hero was a puzzle, every patrol route revealed habits and weaknesses. He liked gathering evidence, building profiles, and comparing his conclusions against reality. The fact that he got an adrenaline rush while doing it was an added bonus. 

"You know," Stain said suddenly, "you make absolutely no sense." 

Izuku looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of a warehouse roof. "Thanks." 

For the past week the Hero Killer had been trying to figure him out so much that it had become a personal mission. A few nights earlier they had encountered a group of older teenagers cornering a kid in an alley. Before Stain could even react, Izuku had dropped from the rooftop and scared them off with a smoke bomb and a few well-placed threats. Watching a kid get ganged up on reminded him too much of how his bullies would corner him and make him give them everything he had even when it meant Izuku would go hungry that night or be cold until he could sew a new jacket together. Unfortunately, Stain had witnessed the entire thing, and ever since then, the Hero Killer had become increasingly convinced that something about Izuku didn't fit. 

"You risk yourself for strangers," the man commented.

"They were picking on a kid,” Izuku replied. 

"So?" 

Izuku stared back at him with confusion on his face. "So?" 

"Why should you care?" Stain asked. 

"The kid needed help and the heroes weren’t doing a damn thing." 

"A villain wouldn’t care enough." 

“Well, I do,” Izuku stated angrily. “I’ll help anyone who deserves it.”

Stain had asked variations of this question almost every night. Why do you choose to help people who would choose to put you in prison? “And Shigaraki then?” the Hero Killer said, “you believe he deserves it?”

Izuku believed that Tomura had spent too long under Sensei’s command to see that Sensei did not have his best interests in mind. Tomura grew up lonely because Sensei denied him a friend; he didn’t know how to communicate with others or deal with being told no. Izuku wanted to see the world that Tomura was going to create, one where no one was mistreated because of their quirk or lack thereof, and he wanted to show Tomura that he didn’t have to be alone all the time. “I believe that you haven’t unlocked Tomura’s backstory yet,” he told the man, “and therefore I can only tell you that yes, I believe Tomura deserves to be saved, and I’m going to be the one to do it.”

Stain didn’t have anything to say to that. It was clear that while he liked Izuku, he still thought Tomura didn’t deserve to live in his vision of a perfect society. "Is it mental manipulation?" he finally asked. 

Izuku immediately laughed. "What?" 

"Your loyalty to Shigaraki." Oh, Stain picked up on that detail. He said loyalty to Tomura, not the League, of course the Hero Killer would notice Izuku’s allegiance. "You follow him despite disagreeing with him half the time." 

"That's normal." 

Stain did not look like he was going to let this go. "Most people don't trust anyone as blindly as you trust him." 

"Most people really need a friend then," Izuku replied. 

The Hero Killer stared at him. "You act like a hero," he said. “You saved a kid, beat up a few heroes, stopped a homeless man from losing his tent, and then watched as I slit a man’s throat.” 

Izuku shrugged. “Maybe I have multiple personalities.”

"You don't belong with villains." 

That statement brought up old wounds that had only recently scarred over. They reminded Izuku of a boy who analyzed heroes for fun and designed potential suits that could help him be a hero. It was a long time ago, back when Izuku had nothing, a time that he had no desire to go back to. Being a villain was better than being alone. “Maybe so, but you can’t belong in a place that doesn’t want you,” he finally said. “And I’d rather be a villain who has friends than a hero who's alone.”

For once, Stain didn't have an immediate response. The Hero Killer studied him carefully, as though trying to determine whether Izuku was lying. Over the past two weeks, the man had become increasingly convinced that something about Izuku didn't add up. Villains weren't supposed to stop bullies from beating children. Villains weren't supposed to call the police after attacks so civilians could be rescued faster. Villains definitely weren't supposed to spend half their time analyzing heroes because they genuinely admired the profession. Yet Izuku did all of those things. And somehow still worked alongside the League of Villains. The answer clearly wasn't enough for Stain, who looked like he wanted to keep digging.

Fortunately — or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it — they had a more immediate problem. Footsteps echoed in the alleyway beneath them accompanied by a strange mechanical whirring sound that reminded Izuku of a car in reverse. Whatever was making it was walking too fast to be a civilian — plus it was too late to be going for a post-dinner walk — so it had to be a hero.

But what kind of hero sounded like an engine?

"Go," Stain mouthed to him.

Izuku wasted no time. He pulled up his respirator and pushed off the air-conditioning unit he had been sitting on, sprinting toward the edge of the rooftop. One leap and he'd be across the gap and gone before the hero ever reached them. Or at least that was the plan. The moment his boots touched the ledge, a figure exploded upward from the street below, the concrete cracking beneath armored boots. The newcomer landed directly in front of him. White and gray armor covered most of his body, reinforced with metal plating around the legs and chest. Gold engine-like exhaust pipes protruded from his elbows, releasing small bursts of steam. When the mask covering the lower half of his face retracted, it revealed dark hair and sharp dark eyes. 

Ingenium. 

For a brief second, Izuku almost felt bad. Two weeks ago he and Stain had discussed how Ingenium was one of the few heroes Stain considered worthy of the title, and now Stain was probably going to kill him.

Such a shame.

"Hero Killer Stain," Ingenium said calmly. Then his gaze shifted to Izuku. "And one of U.A.'s attackers." 

Izuku's eyes widened slightly. Now that was interesting. His identity hadn't been revealed which made absolutely no sense. Kacchan had seen his face, so had Kirishima, and they both heard Izuku confirm it. There was no way Kacchan hadn't told someone. 

"You're both coming with me,” the hero continued. 

Stain sighed. The sound carried the disappointment of a man whose favorite television show had just been interrupted. “If only you hadn’t found us,” he said, as he drew his sword.

Ingenium's engines roared to life as the hero crossed the distance between them in less than a second, one armored fist driving toward Stain's head with enough force to shatter concrete. The Hero Killer moved just as quickly. A knife flashed through the moonlight. Ingenium twisted; the blade sliced across the exposed portion of his forearm. A shallow cut, not enough to slow him down at first glance, but Izuku knew that it meant this fight was over just as it started, though Ingenium didn't realize it. The hero drove his knee upward, using the momentum from his engines to turn the strike into something resembling a battering ram. Stain blocked with the flat of his sword and slid backward several feet across the rooftop. Before the Hero Killer could fully regain his footing, Ingenium surged forward again, exhaust pipes screaming as he accelerated. Izuku found himself impressed despite the circumstances. Unfortunately for Ingenium, Stain had spent years hunting heroes. The Hero Killer never tried to overpower him — he didn't even seem particularly interested in winning quickly — instead, he watched. Every attack from Ingenium was met with the smallest possible movement necessary to avoid it. A shift of his shoulders. A step to the side. A duck beneath a punch. It was less like watching a fight and more like watching a predator circle prey.

The fight continued for several minutes. Ingenium landed a glancing blow against Stain's shoulder that should have sent most people sprawling, but the Hero Killer only stumbled before recovering immediately. At that point, Izuku knew that Stain decided he was finished. The Hero Killer caught one of his knives and slowly dragged his tongue across the blood coating the blade.

Ingenium froze, his whole body that was charging forward suddenly locked into place. “Oh,” he gasped, as his legs gave out and his body fell forward.

Izuku looked down. If he remembered correctly, then Ingenium’s blood type was A, giving him around four minutes before the paralysis effects wore off. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit of guilt for allowing Ingenium to die; he really was a good hero. 

Stain approached him slowly, shaking his head as if sad that Ingenium was about to die. "You are worthy," he said, his words sounding like a eulogy. "Which is why this disappoints me." The Hero Killer raised his blade. 

Izuku's stomach dropped. "Wait!" he cried. He moved before he could think better of it, stepping directly between Stain and the paralyzed hero. Behind him, Ingenium made a strangled noise of surprise. 

Stain stopped. "What?" 

"He doesn't deserve to die for just doing his job," Izuku continued. "You attacked him. He tried to arrest us. That's literally what heroes are supposed to do." 

"You would protect him?" Stain sneered, his eyes narrowed.

"He's one of the good ones." Izuku nodded. "You said it yourself. He's not corrupt. He's not using heroics for fame. He's not pretending to care about people. He actually helps them." 

For a second, he thought he had succeeded. Stain's expression had shifted from murderous intent to something else that Izuku hoped was less violent. Then the Hero Killer sighed. "You've become troublesome." 

The katana spun in his hand, and before Izuku could react, Stain drove the blade downward. Ingenium screamed, the sound echoing across the rooftops. Izuku jumped backward as blood splattered across the concrete. Stain twisted the blade once before pulling it free. Immediately, Izuku's eyes tracked the wound. Lower spine. Not fatal, but not anything to cheer for. The placement was deliberate; if Ingenium survived — and he almost certainly would — the damage would change the rest of his life. His legs would never work again.

Stain looked almost satisfied with himself. "There,” he said, wiping the blood from his sword. "Now he'll live." 

Izuku stared at him. That was mercy?

“See you later, Deku.” The Hero Killer jumped away; one leap carried him to the next rooftop and another took him farther away. Within seconds, he had vanished entirely into the darkness. 

Silence settled over the rooftop. Izuku remained where he was. Ingenium lay on the concrete breathing heavily. The paralysis was already beginning to fade. His fingers twitched. His arms shifted weakly against the rooftop. His legs remained completely motionless. They always would. 

Slowly, Izuku walked over and crouched beside him. “I’m really sorry about this,” he told the hero. “The No. #39 Hero deserves a better ending.”

The hero stared at him. His expression was a mixture of pain, confusion, and disbelief. "Why?" he croaked. The question seemed to take more effort than anything else. As the paralysis wore off, movement gradually returned to his upper body. His lower half remained still; Izuku could practically see the realization dawning on him.

Izuku shrugged. Everyone seemed to be asking him that recently. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I like heroes, I really do, and I think that most of them want to help people. But until that most becomes all, we're not going to stop.” Ingenium’s face nodded slightly as if he understood. “Stain wants something similar, and as awful as it sounds, you’re collateral damage.”

He stood up as the hero’s eyes fell shut, from blood loss or just the urge to not see Izuku anymore, he wasn’t sure. But Izuku didn’t blame him. He pulled out his phone and anonymously reported an injured hero before giving the operator their location. Once he was sure help was coming, he ended the call and sent a quick message to Kurogiri to come get him.

The U.A. Sports Festival was even more exciting in person. Izuku's seat was pretty high up in the stadium, but he honestly didn't mind. Just being there was enough. Every year he had watched the festival through a television screen while sitting on the floor of his bedroom surrounded by notebooks. Now he could actually hear the crowd, feel the vibrations from thousands of cheering spectators, and watch the competitors with his own eyes. It was amazing. 

The temporary black hair dye itched slightly whenever he touched it, and the gray contact lenses felt strange underneath his usual glasses, but the disguise worked well enough. Combined with a loose hoodie and a baseball cap, he doubted anyone would look twice at him. In fact, when he caught his reflection in a window before entering the stadium, he barely recognized himself. Black hair, gray eyes, a face hidden beneath a cap; he looked nothing like Izuku Midoriya and all too much like a teenage copy of a boy who was supposed to touch the stars but was cursed to never touch again.

“ALL RIGHT!” Present Mic announced, starting the festival. “WELCOME TO THE U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!!! WHERE THE LITTLE ROOKIE HEROES AIM FOR EACH OTHER’S THROATS!” 

Izuku grinned as the lights of the stadium began flashing and the students began walking out to the field. He brought out the binoculars he had and used them to watch as Kacchan, accompanied by Kirishima and another blonde whose name he was certain was Kaminari, marched with determination.

“STARTING US OFF, WE HAVE THE HEROICS DEPARTMENT’S FAMOUS CLASS 1-A!”

The students on the field gathered around a smaller stage where the hero Midnight was standing next to a microphone. “Hey kids!” she greeted them all. “Silence yourselves, will ya? Except for Katsuki Bakugou of Class 1-A, the players’ rep! We need you up here!”

Oh right, he forgot. The hero student who scored the highest in the entrance exam usually gave the opening speech at the Sports Festival. Most students used it to declare a fair game and promise that all students were going to do their best, but Izuku doubted Kacchan was going to do that. No, his bully was probably going to say something stupid and annoying and…

“Hmmm,” Kacchan said into the mic, his hand gleaming with something shiny. When did Kacchan start wearing jewelry? “I just want to say I’m going to win.”

Something exactly like that.

The guy sitting next to Izuku laughed. “What an interesting guy,” the man drawled. Something about this man's voice was familiar, though Izuku couldn’t quite place it. Like Izuku, the man was wearing a large hoodie and a hat like he didn’t want to be recognized, but he couldn’t possibly be here for the same reason Izuku was. The chances that two villain analysts were both at the Sports Festival sitting next to each other was very, very, very low. 

The crowd roared at Kacchan’s statement, some with laughter while others sounded angry at a teenager’s arrogance. But those people in the crowd who were calling Kacchan overconfident didn’t know him the way Izuku did. The boy he used to know would be shouting it from the rooftops, but this was different. What Kacchan did right now was challenge others to give their all against him.

“Yeah,” Izuku finally agreed. “He knows what he’s doing though.”

The man’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, are you rooting for Bakugou then?”

“Yes.”

The stronger Kacchan gets, the more fun it will be to beat him.

The first event was an obstacle race that allowed the students to show off how they could use their quirk to help them push forward and think on their feet. Immediately, Todoroki used his ice to shoot ahead of everyone else, much to the displeasure of Kacchan who roared in anger.

Izuku flipped open his notebook to the notes he took after the U.S.J. incident, Todoroki didn’t use his fire side there either. Why was he only using ice and putting himself at 50%? Did he not think the festival required his full power? A few competitors were able to get near Todoroki; Kacchan, Aoyama the spy, Yaoyorozu the creation girl, and Kirishima. One boy — the one with the purple balls on his head that Izuku’s notes had as Mineta — launched himself forward, but was thrown out of the way by a robot.

“THE VILLAIN BOTS FROM THE ENTRANCE EXAM MAKE ANOTHER APPEARANCE!” Present Mic’s voice yelled out as clarification. “THE OBSTACLES ARE COMING SO FAST… THE FIRST ONE: A ROBO INFERNO! THE 0 POINTER FROM THE EXAM COMES BACK!”

Woah, they had to fight those in the entrance exam? Izuku leaned forward in his seat as the giant robots lumbered across the arena. He had seen recordings of the practical exam before, but seeing the machines in person was something else entirely. The smallest one was nearly three times his height and the largest could probably flatten a house if it fell the wrong way. Yeah. He never would have survived that. 

The man beside him laughed. “They’re really upping their game,” he muttered, sounding amused rather than concerned. 

“What?” 

“Oh, nothing.”

Todoroki continued straight toward the massive robot blocking the center of the course. Most students were trying to avoid the machine entirely, but Todoroki never even slowed down. The giant robot shifted its weight forward and raised an arm to strike. Ice exploded across the arena. The machine froze solid in an instant. The crowd gasped. Todoroki calmly walked past it. A second later, the frozen robot lost its balance. 

"Oh." 

The enormous machine tipped sideways. Then crashed directly into the course. Metal screamed as several tons of steel slammed into the ground, creating a barrier that completely blocked the path behind him. 

Excellent battlefield awareness. Uses environment as weapon. Not just power—strategic use of power. No fire?

“INCREDIBLE!” Present Mic shouted. “CLASS 1-A’S TODOROKI HAS CREATED A MASSIVE LEAD!”

Kacchan, of course, did not handle the position of second place very well. A familiar explosion echoed through the stadium as he launched himself into the air. The crowd roared again. Rather than climbing over the wreckage like everyone else, he simply flew over it. Kacchan landed near Todoroki, immediately closing the distance between them. Neither boy looked happy about the other's presence.

“AS EXPECTED, MOST OF THE KIDS WHO RAN PAST WERE FROM CLASS 1-A!”

Izuku wasn't surprised. If anything, he thought it was inevitable. The U.S.J. attack had changed them. The students probably didn't realize it yet, but surviving a real villain attack altered the way people thought. Once you experienced genuine danger, training exercises stopped feeling important. Fear sharpened instincts. It forced people to adapt faster. The other classes had clearly trained — that much was obvious — but there was a difference between practicing for danger and experiencing it.

Yaoyorozu created a cannon without hesitation. Kirishima charged through falling debris instead of avoiding it. Tokoyami and his shadow utilized everything in their path that created a shadow to jump ahead. Meanwhile students from the other classes paused to activate support items or debated the safest route forward.

The second stage of the obstacle course consisted of a massive canyon stretching across the stadium. Thick ropes connected one side to the other, forcing competitors to either carefully balance their way across or find another solution. Unless, apparently, you were Kacchan. The blonde barely slowed down before blasting himself into the air and flying over the entire obstacle. Explosions erupted behind him every few seconds as he propelled himself from one side of the canyon to the other without ever touching a rope.

Yet, while Kacchan ignored the obstacle entirely, other students were forced to actually deal with it. One of the girls from Class 1-A, Asui Tsuyu, showcased her quirk perfectly. The frog-like student dropped onto all fours and crawled across the ropes with surprising speed. While other competitors struggled to maintain their balance, Asui moved as naturally as if she were crossing solid ground. 

Excellent balance. Strong body control. Makes full use of her mutation quirk, Izuku noted. 

A different competitor caught his attention moments later. The pink-haired girl from the Support Course. Instead of relying on balance or mobility quirks, she had equipped herself with enough gadgets to make Izuku slightly jealous. Small bursts of propulsion launched her from stump to stump while mechanical arms extended from her backpack to stabilize her landings. Every movement seemed chaotic and poorly planned right up until she landed exactly where she intended. The girl overshot one platform, bounced off a support beam, activated another piece of equipment, and somehow used the mistake to gain even more distance.

She wasn’t a hero, but her items would be very useful.

The final part of the obstacle course was a massive field littered with hidden landmines. Small warning signs dotted the area, but they did little to help when the mines were buried beneath the dirt and impossible to see until someone stepped on one. The moment the first explosion went off, the crowd erupted. Students were launched into the air, knocked off balance, or sent scrambling to avoid chain reactions caused by nearby blasts. What had begun as a race suddenly looked more like a battlefield. 

Neither Todoroki nor Kacchan seemed particularly concerned. The two remained far ahead of everyone else, completely focused on beating each other rather than avoiding the mines. Todoroki created sheets of ice beneath his feet, allowing him to glide over the field while avoiding most of the danger entirely. Meanwhile, Kacchan continued using his explosions to propel himself through the air, refusing to let the other boy pull ahead. 

Even from the stands, Izuku could see how furious Kacchan was becoming. Every time Todoroki gained even a few meters, another explosion would follow. As the race came down to the final stretch, Todoroki launched one last wave of ice across the ground while Kacchan blasted himself forward with enough force to crack the concrete beneath his feet. For a moment they were completely even. Then Todoroki crossed the finish line. The difference couldn't have been more than a fraction of a second. 

The stadium exploded into cheers. “AND THE WINNER OF THE OBSTACLE COURSE IS SHOTO TODOROKI!” 

Kacchan looked like he was ready to murder.

“Hey, you must really love taking notes, huh?” the man beside him asked once the rankings were finished. “You haven’t stopped writing in that book since the race started.”

Izuku stiffened. He had spent the entire day trying not to draw attention to himself. The black hair dye and gray contacts would keep people from recognizing him as Midoriya, but they wouldn't protect him if he accidentally said something stupid. Heroes loved asking questions, and heroes were trained to notice things. 

“I like quirks,” he replied. 

“An analyst.” The man smiled. “That’s pretty cool.”

Izuku shrugged and looked back toward the field, hoping the conversation would end there. 

It didn't. “So what do you think of Todoroki?”

“Todoroki?” Izuku repeated. 

“Yeah.” 

He considered it for a moment. “Strong quirk. Really strong quirk. But he relies too heavily on large-scale attacks.” He tapped his notebook. “Most of his solutions involve overwhelming force. It works because he's powerful enough to make it work.”

The man hummed thoughtfully. “And Bakugou?” 

“He's adaptable when he needs to be. Todoroki starts with the strongest option available, but Bakugou starts with whatever option wins.” 

The man barked out a laugh. “That's actually a really good observation.” 

He froze again, was this man suspecting him? Why would he compliment the analysis if he didn’t think it was too good?

“Well,” the man continued, leaning back in his seat, “if you can figure all that out from a single race, you've got a pretty good eye.” 

“Thanks,” Izuku said, still trying to place the man. 

He too was dressed like he didn’t want to be noticed, but also like he wasn’t stopping anyone from figuring out who he was. Blonde hair and yellow eyes… Who had that? Which hero was as laid back and casual as this one? Who…

“Hawks!”

The hero winced. “That’s me,” he replied. “

This was so cool! Izuku had never been so close to such a high ranking hero — aside from that time on the rooftop — but Hawks was so young and chill with everyone. The youngest hero ever to reach the Top Ten. The hero who solved incidents faster than almost anyone else in the country. The hero whose quirk allowed him to control individual feathers. The hero who— 

Oh no. He'd been sitting next to a Pro Hero this entire time. A very famous Pro Hero. A very observant Pro Hero. A Pro Hero who definitely would've noticed if Izuku accidentally started talking about the League. Suddenly every word he'd said over the past twenty minutes replayed through his head. Had he mentioned Tomura? No. The bar? No. Stain? Definitely not. Sensei? Absolutely not. Okay. Good. He wasn't completely doomed. 

“Relax, kid,” Hawks laughed. “You look like you're about to pass out.” 

“I wasn't expecting to be sitting next to a celebrity,” Izuku said.

“Celebrity?” Hawks groaned. “Gross.” 

Izuku ignored him. “Why aren't you with the other heroes?” 

All the pros had reserved seating sections closer to the field. Even Eraserhead was down there with the teachers.

Hawks shrugged. “Too many of them.” 

“What?” 

“They never stop talking.” 

Izuku blinked. “You’re a hero.” 

“Exactly. I know firsthand how annoying they are.” Against his will, Izuku laughed. Hawks grinned. “See? You get it.” 

For the next several minutes, the two watched the stadium prepare for the next event. Occasionally Hawks would point out something about a student or explain how certain agencies evaluated Sports Festival performances. Izuku wrote down everything. Not because he was gathering intelligence. Not this time. He was genuinely interested. Apparently agencies looked at decision-making more than raw power. Heroes valued consistency over flashy victories. Rescue potential could matter more than combat strength. Students who showed leadership often received more internship offers. Every new piece of information found its way into his notebook. 

By the time Hawks noticed, half a page was covered in notes. “You really are an analyst,” he noticed.

Izuku looked up. “What?” 

“You write down everything.” 

“That's how I learn.” 

Hawks laughed. “Fair enough.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Hawks glanced at the notebook one last time. “You know,” he said casually, “if you keep this up, you'd probably make a pretty good sidekick someday.” 

Izuku nearly choked. “A sidekick?” 

“Sure.” The hero pointed toward the field. “Most heroes can fight. Not many can think about quirks the way you do.” 

The idea was ridiculous. Impossible. If Hawks knew who he really was, he wouldn't be offering internships. He'd be trying to arrest him. And yet... some small part of him still felt proud. “Thanks,” he muttered. 

“No problem, kid.”

Next came the cavalry battle. Since Todoroki won, he started off with 10 million points. His team consisted of himself, Tenya Iida — who had to be the younger brother of the hero Izuku watched be paralyzed the previous night, Yaoyorozu, and Kaminari. They seemed to work well together; Todoroki’s ice made it easier for Iida to glide while Yaoyorozu was creating tools for them to use and Kaminari was using electricity to move them forward.

Kacchan was with Kirishima, a boy with tape coming out of his arms named Sero, and a girl named Ashido who could shoot acid. All three of them seemed content to let Kacchan run the show, but Izuku presumed that was because they all knew Kacchan had the best chance of winning against Todoroki if it came down to that. But when it did, Kacchan lost and came in second once more, ending the second part of the first years’ Sports Festival.