Chapter Text
Case #18957213 [Shizuoka Prefecture.] update v1.3
Name: Cipher - Civilian name Unknown
Age: Teenager[edit: November 20th 2173]
Description: Average height (leaning towards the shorter side), bright red shoes[1], black mask with golden lines, black kevlar pants[2] and a hoodie.
1. red shoes are cipher's signature brand
2. where did they gain access to kevlar?
Quirk: Unkown. Uses Akikdo[edit: November 20th 2173]
Lead Hero(s): EraserHead | Aizawa Shouta (HID: 229124),
Assisting Hero(s): Ms. Joke | Fukukado Emi (HID: 230091), Sir NightEye | Sasaki Mirai (HID: 238172), Dabi | Todoroki Touya (HID: 331234),
Lead Detective(s): Tsukauchi Naomasa (PID: 213987), Tamakawa Sansa (PID: 291132)
Situation: Cipher is a vigilante that has been around since 2172. Cipher normally scouts out crimes and reports/leads heroes to them. However, recently Cipher has been known to ambush criminals from an aerial vantage point, blinding them with some sort of cloth and fleeing after subduing the criminal and alerting a pro of their presence.
Status: In Progress (Order: Capture when sighted, Lethal force prohibited)
Katsuki clicked off his phone, the article fading into a black screen.
Three months.
He had spent three months looking for this vigilante. He didn't know wether it was the years-old guilt gnawing away at his heart or plain old curiosity clawing at his brain. The vigilante seemingly never used a quirk, and the too-bright red shoes were ones Katsuki could never forget. Not after what he said.
"Take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a quirk in your next-life." That was the last think Katsuki ever said to Deku.
It had happened just before summer break. So 2 months later when school started up again, Katsuki had come to school only to see Deku's empty seat and the teacher telling them with poor attempts at covering his joy about how Deku would no longer be a student here.
Overwhelming guilt welled up inside him. Horrifying thoughts and images of Deku's death plaguing in his mind.
The next day he'd made his way to the Midoriya household, climbing his way up nostalgic stairs and knocking at an all too-familiar door. But he was met with an empty house, wearily he had stepped inside, careful of the broken glass that was shattered across the floor and the furniture strewn across the room.
With tentative steps he walked to his childhood best friends room. (Did he even have a right to call himself that anymore? After what he did?) His heart dropped at the bare walls and the torn posters he spotted in the corner of the room.
Heavy feet had dragged him back home and to his mothers room, collapsing into her with wet eyes and jack-ribitting pain in his heart as he asked her what had happened to them. He'd hoping for something good, something normal. Maybe they'd moved away, or the nerds Dead-Beat dad had finally shown up and taken them home.
He wasn't prepared to find out that they'd been caught in a villain attack 3 months ago. Wasn't prepared to find out that someone that was like his brother was now lying in a grave that nobody visited.
Katsuki checked himself into therapy a month later. He knew he needed change, he needed to better. So that no one would have to end up like Deku did ever again.
6 months of therapy and anger management classes paired with the volunteering work he'd done was what it took to finally knock into Katsuki's brain that what he said was wrong, and that it was villainous.
Katsuki didn't visit Izuku's grave, not once. He gave flowers and trinkets that were Izuku's to his mother when she visited the graves each month but he never went himself. He didn't think he deserved to pay his condolences.
4 Months after he had finished therapy was when he first heard of the vigilante. It was foolish of him, but some hopeful part of him believed that the vigilante knew what happened to Izuku. A quick look into his uncle's computer had told him that the Cipher appeared first after that villain attack, and had been the one to capture the villain.
And then the vigilante had gone and saved Katsuki as he was shopping for his mother. That drive to save reminded Katsuki of the green-haired boy he failed, and the shoes that bled red clashed with memories of a bright smile and emerald eyes.
Two weeks after that, Katsuki found himself visiting the empty grave. He dropped to his knees in front of the grave and for the first time in forever, Katsuki cried.
MIDORIYA IZUKU
15/7/2160 - 23/5/2172
a loving son, brother and friend.
Izuku glared at what supposed to be his headstone. A part of him knew, that the world thinking he was dead was his fault, that he had run after seeing his mothers dead body, that he had left.
But seeing the dull grave stone had ignited white, hot anger within him that he didn't know he had. This was the first time he was visiting the grave.
1 year and 6 months after his supposed death.
1 year and 6 months since his life had been flipped upside down.
1 year and 6 months as a vigilante.
Izuku jumped as footsteps approached, he slipped away from in front of the grave, climbing up the tree that shadowed over it and choosing to observe from there. He didn't think anyone would want to come to his grave, it's not like he mattered all that much.
To his shock, it was Bakugou Katsuki that had gone and collapsed infant of grave, sobbing his eyes out.
Izuku felt like he was frozen, his heart aching to go comfort the familiar figure of his childhood friend —basically his brother— while his brain ran circles trying to figure out why Kacchan was crying at his grave.
His heart stopped as the gravelly voice that reminded him all to much of home. And as apologies spilled from his brothers mouth, Izuku moved without thinking, he dropped to the ground with light feet and crouched next to the fallen figure of his friend, tears welling up in his eyes.
Thinking back on it, Izuku guesses it was a force of nature that moved him towards Kacchan.
They were brothers after all, the only place they ever belonged was by the others side.
Though in hindsight, dropping by your own grave to comfort your friend who most definitely believes that you've been dead for almost two years is not the greatest idea.
"WHAT THE FUCK-"
Red eyes glared at him as he was pushed to the floor. "WHO THE F- Izuku?" Said boy groaned at the knee that was pining him to the ground. "Yeah- Its me, do you mind getting off me now, you're kind of suffocating me."
A bewildered expression took over Kacchan's face and Izuku had to repress a snicker. "What the- How are you- WHATS WRONG WITH YOUR HAIR- The FUCK?"
Izuku pinned him with a bored expression. "Faking a death isn't as hard as people think it is Kacchan." The blonde glared at him, crimson eyes flashing with more emotions Izuku had seen on the boy than ever.
"After the villain attack.. after mom died. I left." Izuku continued, eyeing the blonde to see if he was listening. "I couldn't do it, couldn't stay. They would've thrown me to the foster system, I didn't want to be bounced home after because nobody wanted a quirkless, worthless-"
Kacchan smacked him over the head, interrupting the degrading line of thought. "You're not- You're not worthless or useless. You- You never were, okay? I was wrong. We all were."
And as tears welled up in Izuku's eyes at the words, Kacchan groaned. "Seriously, still a crybaby?" A reluctant arm pulled him into a hug and Izuku continued his tale of woe.
"Mom dying.. that really- it really did it for me. I had no one other than my mom, she- she was my lifeline. Everytime I started thinking about how life was too much or how I just wanted it to end, I would always remind myself 'Stay for Mom' reminding myself that just like me she had no one either, I had to be there for her."
Izuku winced at the widening eyes and the guilt flashing across Kacchan's face as he pulled away to face him properly. "So I left, I ran the minute I realized the police were on the way, I ran to my room grabbed whatever I thought I needed and then pocketed whatever money I could find in the house and I caught the nearest train to Tokyo."
"Tokyo? What- How'd you get here then?" Izuku shushed the blonde, slight irritation coating his words. "Let me speak you knock off dynamite. I roamed the streets for a while, after I used up the money I had I started scouring dumpsters and being grateful for the occasional change someone spared me."
"Then a month after it had happened, I met another vigilante, they- they helped, a lot, they set me up with a name-change, new identification and a job here in Musutafu, they trained me too, in everything really, fighting styles, weapons, take down techniques." Izuku allowed smugness to lace his words as he listed the different things he was taught.
"So I bleached my hair and took the first train back here. Later I found out the person that helped me, died, a cross fire between villain and hero. They died simply for trying to rescue people."
Green eyes met red, full of deep sorrow and regret that shouldn't be there in a 13 year olds eyes.
"I wanted to do something. Anything I could to honour their memory. So I decided to take up their 'hobby' and well, now we're here."
Kacchan's face scrunched up as if he was in deep thought, calculating eyes seemed to be scanning Izuku for something.
"Out of the colours though did you have to dye your hair blue? Like seriously come on? Blue?"
Izuku's mouth dropped open. "I just told you the shit show my life has been for the past year and a half, and your first response is to criticize my hair colour!?"
And just like the spell was broken and they burst into laughter.
Katsuki was a jumble of emotions right now, shock and glee being the most prominent but the trace of guilt still lay underneath them.
Izuku was alive. He'd been alive this whole time.
"You're coming home." He said with a finality that left no room for Izuku to argue, doesn't mean the blue-haired menace didn't try. "I- I can't! Kacchan!" Katsuki pushed down the happiness that swelled in his chest at the sound of his best friend calling him Kacchan, he never thought he'd hear it again.
He schooled his expression and glared at the boy. "You're coming home, and you're explaining everything to my mom and then we're fixing that mess on your head."
Izuku sputtered, an embarrassed flush crawling up his face. "Again with the hair!?" Katsuki simply chuckled, pulling the boy to his feet as he started walking out of the cemetery.
"I know you said you didn't have anyone when Auntie died, but, Izuku you did, you still do. I know I never showed it and maybe that's because back then I didn't realize how much you meant to me, but we're brothers aren't we? You'll always have me, and even if I wasn't there, i'm like 99% the old hag would scoop you up anyways."
Izuku furrowed his brows in confusion. "I- I can't give up what i've done so far Kacchan. Thank you for offering your home and I- I know auntie wouldn't say anything but, I can't- I won't give up my vigilante career."
"Who said you have to? 'sides with all the practice you've had I bet you could train us both well for the U.A entrance exam in 5 months."
Katsuki stopped near the exit of the cemetery and held a hand out for his friend. "So, what d'ya say nerd? ready to come home?"
"I- I'm not sure —not yet— I don't think I can live with you all yet b-but I can visit you all every now and then." Izuku smiled tentatively.
Katsuki frowned but agreed, he'd rather have some time with his friend rather than none at all. "I'm still dying your hair back green though."
"KACCHAN!"
MYSTERIOUS VIGILANTE STRIKES AGAIN Uploaded by ShizuokaNow, 17/12/2174 at 3:47pm.
Musutafu's very own vigilante has been up and about again all over Musutafu in the past few weeks. After an unexpected break in the last week of December, the vigilante seem's to be well and back on their feet.
Our very own Hyakuzawa Kaito managed to snag a few seconds with the Vigilante themselves two days ago.
"N-Name..? I don't- I don't.. uhm.. most p-people call- most people call me Cipher?" The vigilante said in a recorded interview conducted by Hyakuzawa Kaito on 15/12/2173.
After a short search by one of our top researchers, the name 'CIPHER' is an english word that seems to mean 'zero'. The cause for Cipher choosing this name is still unknown, however many of our social scientists believe that . . .