Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing he noticed was nothing. Or rather, a lack of sensory input. He tried to think, but he couldn’t, rational thought staying just out of reach. Something innate told him this was horribly wrong, that he never had difficulty thinking, that he was usually pummeled with thoughts every moment of his life, but what could he do?

Time passed. Bits and pieces came back to him. Memories flashed behind his eyelids before settling into his mind palace like they never left. At this point, it was more of a hut, small and messy, but it would grow. He saw a not-quite-whole family (‘Caring is not an advantage,’ such cruel words for a child), acquaintances that were not-friends but somehow snuck their way into people-he-cares-for (although he'd never admit it), and a friend that inexplicably skipped the entire acquaintance-trial-period to barge into his life (he hadn’t even considered the idea that faking his death would hurt him so much).

At one point in time, in the space of a breath, something clicked and he - Sherlock - was whole again. He could remember everything, put names to faces, think properly once more. Finally.

The first thing he did was clean up his mind palace. Everything had been shoved back in without a care for order, and it was giving Sherlock a migraine. There wasn't much else he could do, with his physical body unresponsive and in an undetermined location. It took effort, but eventually, he closed the final door, and his mind started pondering the problem that was his current existence.

He should be dead. He should be dead. Sherlock Holmes distinctly remembered letting out a final breath and dying. Yet here he was.

Start simple. What could he deduce from his current state of being? After some experimentation, he concluded that his range of movement was severely diminished and that the proportions of his body were wrong. His arms and legs were far too short for the rest of his body. Conclusion? He wasn’t in his original body. It was probably the body of a child or a person with severely stunted limbs.

His train of thought was interrupted by an unexpected event. The body was moving. He was being pushed down some sort of tunnel and it took forever, but he was finally ejected. Eyes slowly opened, then squinted, unused to light. He looked up and saw a woman - Naturally Green Hair was noticed with slight confusion - before glancing down at his own body. Small. Pudgy. Bloodstained. A newborn. His mind shoved a possible conclusion at him. Reincarnation.

He frowned. It made no sense. The mind of a child in a womb should not be sufficiently advanced to house everything that makes up Sherlock. And how did he end up there in the first place? Yet his instincts were screaming at him that this was right, to look past the disbelief and see that it was the logical conclusion. So, he decided that, yes, he had been reborn and moved on.

During the standard barrage of tests for a newborn, he let out a couple of pitiful shrieks to reassure the worried doctors that there was nothing wrong with him and would they just hurry up with it already. Meanwhile, he contemplated whether he should act like someone with his intelligence or pretend to be a normal child. From what he could see, it appeared that he was in Japan, or in a location with a similar culture. By the time he was placed in his mother’s arms and named Midoriya Izuku, he had decided to act like a precocious child, a quick learner with an excessive amount of curiosity. After all, he was very good at fooling others - how difficult could it be?

As it turned out, much harder than he initially thought. He found himself bombarded with irrational desires to wail over the slightest pinprick of hunger, which he couldn’t always suppress; a strange sleep schedule, although ordinary for babies; and worst of all, emotions. It was all very irritating, but when he turned one year old, he found something to draw his interest.

The catalyst was a gift he got from his mother when he turned one year old, a plushie of a strange, blond-haired man in a flamboyant costume. After a couple of frustrating attempts to tell Midoriya Inko, his mother, what he wanted to know, she finally sat him down and gave him a simple rundown on Quirks and superheroes with basic words. Sherlock - he will always think of himself as such, although Midoriya Izuku was acceptable when referring to this life - easily understood the whole speech. Japanese was one of the many languages he’d learned when he had black hair and blue-green eyes, when he was the best and only consulting detective.

His initial reaction was disbelief because it sounded ridiculous. Special powers that people received when they were children that could be anything? A society where superheroes and villains were a normal phenomenon? Perhaps it was this world’s version of Santa. However, when he looked into her eyes, his mind whispered true with a surety to anchor his mind. A fleeting idea struck - perhaps this wasn’t reincarnation, but some strange Quirk - and he decided that he needed to find out more.

It was easy to manipulate Inko into letting him use the internet without supervision. He simply acquired a video of All Might’s first debut, spun a tale of wanting to be just like the pro hero in the video when he grew up, and she left the room, humming happily. Apparently, despite being an adult, she considered the video ‘scary’. Then again, that was why he selected that specific video. Once he heard her footsteps fade away, Sher- Izuku put the video on repeat, opened a new tab, and started typing.

After an hour of reading, Izuku was tempted to start utilizing his hacking skills to verify that this information was accurate. Where did these Quirks come from in the first place? The Quirk Factor reeked of befuddled scientists trying to invent some reasonable explanation and ending up with an elegant mess of nothing. At least there was one universally agreed on point: because Quirks were the “next stage of evolution for humans,” somehow, whether you had a Quirk or not depended on the number of joints in your pinky toe. It sounded good enough to fool normal citizens.

Unfortunately, Izuku was about as far as you can get from a normal citizen. He dug deeper. Despite the widespread claims, there was no evidence supporting it, other than some very dubious studies with obviously fudged results. Izuku concluded that humans are still, as a whole, idiots who couldn’t bother to use their brains in a useful manner. Before he could start a blog and post scathing comments about this whole fabricated problem - John had shown that blogs weren’t too bad for spreading information to the masses - Inko returned to take him away from the computer and feed him dinner. Pity.

After a couple of weeks, Izuku found himself accepting the existence of Quirks just so that he could do something more interesting - analysis. Quirks may have made no sense whatsoever, but they were fascinating . If only he could perform some experiments to verify the existence of the Quirk Factor.

Anyways, each Quirk had its own interesting points. A major example of this was All Might. Everyone knew who the number one hero was. No one knew what his Quirk was, and those who did know kept quiet. It was a smart idea - that way, people wouldn’t be able to counteract his Quirk. Not that it appeared possible. All Might’s Quirk looked like it reinforced his body, making him stronger, faster, and have an infinite amount of stamina. And it appeared to be constantly active. He was a tank, rolling over anyone that tried to oppose him. The main question was where all the power came from. Other people had similar Quirks, but they weren’t able to level entire buildings with one punch. It was ridiculously overpowered, and Izuku found himself a tad grateful that All Might hadn’t decided to be a villain, or this world would be a vastly different place. (It was all Watson’s fault. Before, he hadn’t really felt emotion, but then the numbskull had to go and care .)

That was just the tip of the iceberg. There was an almost infinite number of Quirks, and Izuku quickly filled up notebook after notebook on explanations and ideas, as well as various comments on the heroes themselves. It was all written in a code that Mycroft had invented, which should be sufficient protection. Occasionally, his mind wandered, and he wondered what Quirk he would get (If he did get one - after all, 20% of the world’s population was still Quirkless), but it was quickly shoved away. He had more interesting things to think about.

Of course, he discovered UA early on and concluded that it would be the best place to go to if he wanted to be a pro hero. It wasn’t a bad idea - pro heroes didn’t necessarily go around saving people. For example, Lunch Rush just made school meals for those attending UA. Izuku could become a pro hero who analyzed superheroes and villains alike. It would allow him to reform the system a bit - it was difficult to form a network of homeless contacts who committed minor crimes if they were all shoved under the category of evil villain. He did briefly toy with the idea of becoming this world’s version of Moriarty instead before discarding it. Without a proper rival, the game would quickly grow boring, and there were no pro heroes that would fit the role. On the other hand, Izuku had seen hints of a mastermind villain pulling the strings, although he had yet to find definite proof. He found his blood racing at the idea - at times like these, he almost didn’t regret his inability to use nicotine patches without irreversibly damaging his mind.

At the age of one and a half years old, Izuku pieced together enough information to discover All Might’s true form, Toshinori Yagi. If he hadn’t been forced to take extra precautions, he would have deduced it a month ago. Sherlock - Izuku was a single child - never thought that he would miss his utter prat of a brother, yet he couldn’t deny how useful it was having the British Government to cover his back when he invariably got in trouble. And their relationship - if it could be called that - had become less strained near the end. (He still blamed Watson.)

If it was anyone else, they likely would have panicked and waffled around in shock. Izuku mentally shrugged, decided not to delete the information - it would be useful for blackmail - and continued exploring the Internet as if he hadn’t found out one of the most tightly guarded secrets in the hero industry. Having already written comprehensive profiles on the top fifty heroes, Izuku decided to watch an actual video of a hero-villain fight.

Half an hour later, Izuku concluded that pro heroes were imbeciles. They had no sense of discretion, usually caused some property damage in the process of capturing cat burglars , and called out the name of their attacks before making the aforementioned attack . Sure, it looked cool to viewers, but if they went up against a reasonably smart opponent who had developed preventative measures against each attack, it would put them at a disadvantage. None of the villains bothered announcing their course of action because they had common sense and were usually too busy trying to escape. The so-called ‘underground heroes’ were more intelligent than most, but they made up a small minority.

Another point of annoyance was the civilians. When they saw a fight between two dangerous individuals, one who was cornered and panicked, did they evacuate the surrounding area? No. They stayed and watched like it was a show, like they weren’t putting their own lives at risk. Stupidity was contagious. (He felt mild horror when he started sympathizing with Mycroft’s view on commoners.)

Sherlock decided the best course of action was to do what he normally did - shove the truth in people’s faces and force them to listen. He could almost see John’s disbelieving look but buried it under the fact that it worked . (That mess with Moriarty didn’t count. Sherlock was intentionally making himself fail at the time.) People may not have liked him, but that didn’t matter as long as they listened, and Sherlock was always right. He spent another week hacking into various college computer systems and, hiding behind the guise of UA (Izuku can taste the irony), made his first post a dressing down of the current hero system, complete with multiple references and basic logic that even a caveman could follow. It was the equivalent of twenty pages long and took him three days to fully type out with his small hands. When Midoriya Izuku was exactly one year, six months, and fifteen days old, he published it under the handle ‘Deerstalker’, the title simply noted as ‘Part 1’.

In the beginning, responses were skeptical. Commentators attempted to reveal flaws in logic, only to be systematically defeated with twenty-paragraph-long elaborations on how it was perfectly reasonable, culminating on a side note that Yes, your employer is underpaying you, and your salary should be 5,820 yen higher than it is now. He uses the money to pay off gambling debts from betting on the number of villains All Might defeats every week. And you really should go to the doctor for a checkup - that persistent headache has a high likelihood of indicating a brain tumor. Sherlock had always enjoyed informing people about their issues, watching them follow his suggestions in an effort to prove him wrong, then pointedly ignore him when he was correct. (He wasn’t a drama queen - he just liked irritating people. John was wrong.)

Time passed. Izuku dealt with the skeptics and haters. He wasn't entirely sure how to reply to the positive comments about how brilliant he was - Sherlock had mainly dealt with the bipolar media and people telling him to “piss off,” so he felt justified in his confusion. In the end, he wrote awkward replies of thanks that barely reached a length of three sentences - he didn’t want to make observations, as it only seemed to annoy people, and Sherlock had never been one for small talk. Nevertheless, they seemed to be appreciated, so he left it at that and moved on.

On Izuku’s second birthday, Inko invited her friend’s son over in the mistaken belief that Izuku should start making friends. Bakugou Katsuki was a normal two-year-old boy, loud and obnoxious. It was a match made in hell. Izuku ignored Katsuki - the child was boring - in favor of locking the door, getting on his new computer, and setting up his standard defenses. At this point, he was utilizing a couple of hero agencies in addition to the schools. Say what you will about the heroes, but their security was top notch. It still didn’t stand a chance against Izuku. This was the main reason why he wanted a new computer. Putting up and taking down the alterations was time-consuming, making it difficult for him to get enough work in for the day.

[In another world, where Izuku was overflowing with kindness, he stayed to play and was able to calm Katsuki down, even inventing the nickname ‘Kacchan’. But then again, in another world, Izuku grew up alone and hated and abandoned for something he couldn’t control. Fate was a fickle thing.]

Izuku was two years and three days old and he was being forced to go to daycare. Apparently, during his absence from the birthday party, Bakugou Mitsuki had a discussion with Inko about how Katsuki was already going to daycare and having a wonderful time there. When Inko admitted that she had been working from home for the past few years, helping her neighbors with their laundry and other similar tasks to supplement Hisashi’s paycheck, Mitsuki was shocked. Inko was quickly manipulated into enrolling Izuku at the same daycare that Katsuki attended, and Izuku was not pleased. Unfortunately, being only two years old, he didn’t have much of a choice. So, he was dropped off with a backpack filled with notebooks and a laptop, with the express promise that he will not damage it in any way. He still brought multiple flash drives as backup.

The people at the daycare weren’t sure what to do with Izuku. When they asked him to play with the other children, he looked at them with eyes colder than ice and stated that “Their intellectual level is negligible when compared to mine. Would you ask Nighteye to, as you put it, ‘Go play with the other kids. I’m sure you’ll love it!’ I think not.” When they continued to push, he noted that they were being paid to make children happy, and Izuku would be far happier typing on his computer than associating with (‘goldfish’ inexplicably appeared in his mind, and he pointedly ignored it) others. Eventually, they gave up. Izuku was relieved. Finally, he could start doing his actual work, not just playing childish, boring games..

A week later, Izuku revoked that statement. Now that the adults had left, the children had taken it as an invitation to get Izuku to play. He had managed to get rid of most of them, but one of them stuck around like a distasteful leech. Bakugou had taken Izuku’s actions as a challenge and was constantly trying to ‘beat’ him. The plan was bound to fail - Bakugou may not know it, but Izuku has decades of experience over him. Katsuki quickly found that he was no intellectual match for Izuku, so he tried in the only other way he can think: fighting. Izuku was, at this point, completely done with this nonsense and decided that the only way to get Bakugou off his back was to issue him a challenge to reach the highest level possible in a fighting style of his own choice. It would assist him if he chose to become a hero and would take years to complete. By that point, Izuku would hopefully have skipped school and regained his status as a consulting detective. With Quirks added into the mix, he couldn't wait to see what interesting cases came his way.

Izuku was bored. He wasn't quite sure how he had managed to stave off his usual mood for years, but that didn’t matter because he was bored . He’d already insulted Japan’s hero system in at least fifty different ways, all the Quirks were similar to ones he'd previously analyzed, and his fellow two-year-olds in daycare weren't remotely fascinating. Sherlock Holmes had thought that nothing could be more sleep-inducing than normal civilians. Midoriya Izuku discovered that yes, there was something worse than normal civilians: normal civilian toddlers. He was severely tempted to inform his mother about his superior intelligence to escape, but it would make him famous again, and Izuku detested popularity with every iota of his being. It made strangers try to draw him into a conversation, and it was difficult to keep a low profile when people were posting his current location on Twitter. The only reason why it happened last time was because of John, and Izuku was never going to get connected to Deerstalker. Not if he had anything to say about it. Besides, who would think that a two-year-old wrote those posts?

Inko was understandably worried about Izuku’s sudden listlessness. It wasn't like Izuku could tell her that this happened all the time - it hadn’t yet in this life. He wasn't going to explain about his past for reasons previously listed. So, he waited it out.

After a couple of days with her hovering - honestly, it was worse than Ms. Hudson's - he decides to make himself motivated again. Izuku was going supervillain hunting. He set up more defenses on his computer than the British Government when Mycroft was around and started searching. It took weeks, but Sherlock was a Holmes, and a Holmes never failed. (His generation, at least.) He ended up with three words: 'All for One', seemingly useless. But it was a name, and names had power. Especially this one, which was a very well hidden secret. Interestingly enough, with this new information, Izuku found hints going back centuries. It was almost as if the man was immortal - he wondered what Quirk caused it. Another recurring concept was that All for One had multiple Quirks. It was probably true, but the general populace was too close-minded to even consider it as a possibility.

And then he hit the jackpot. Apparently, the government actually knew something for once in their pitiful existence. They had no clue, though. To them, it was just a random selection of names across the years that mysteriously disappeared. To Izuku, it was a string of aliases invented and discarded once they fulfilled their purpose. All for One was good at covering up his tracks, but he had become more complacent over the years without a proper rival. It was the perfect time for Izuku to enter the scene. After deliberating on his next move, he decided to send a message. Sherlock was a man of action and impulse. Izuku was slightly different, tempered because of his vulnerability, but not enough to make a difference.

The message was short, simple. A list of aliases, starting with All for One and ending in a name that took Izuku an impressive amount of time to find. Hopefully, knowing that someone had discovered his birth name would be enough for “SH” to be taken seriously.

He smiled, excitement already coursing through his veins, and whispered to his computer. “ The game is on. ”

Extra:

All for One held the paper in one hand, reading it over and over again. Once it was engraved in his mind, he set it on fire with one of his Quirks, watching it crumble to ashes between his fingers before turning back to the computer. There was a new player in the game - perhaps SH was related to Shimura Nana? - and he needed to complete some side quests for information.

Chapter Text

For Izuku, the next few months flew by. He split his time between All for One and spreading Deerstalker’s influence. The latter was because people had been plagiarizing his posts. Honestly, Izuku could care less, but if he had to read another comment about how he stole such-and-such’s work when Izuku’s was published four months earlier, he was going to start looking for a skull to rant to. So, he tracked down people, reported them, and created a Deerstalker account on some new websites. If any previous accounts with the same name suddenly had a couple of numbers at the end, well, Izuku had no idea how that happened. (Besides, they were all copycats, and their accounts were going to be deleted anyway, so it's not like it mattered. Much.)

He had mixed feelings about the results. On one hand, those idiotic comments had stopped. On the other, people from the new websites hadn't experienced the taste of utter defeat, so Izuku had many, many more replies of justification to make. He made liberal use of copy and paste - people weren't very creative - but he occasionally found original 'loopholes’ that were given original replies, complete with addendums concerning their lives. At least it gave him something to do.

His third birthday was met with trepidation. Inko and Mitsuki had been meeting often during the past two days, and quite a few invitations had been handed out to parents at the daycare. Hopefully, he would be able to escape during the party, but if not, there was one final resort - mingling with the adults. They were only slightly better than the children, but Izuku was desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures. He would have to figure out something for subsequent birthdays because he was not dealing with this mess every single year. And they would likely only get worse as time passes, like an infestation. He resisted a shudder at the thought.

The dreaded day arrived, and nothing went to plan, mainly because of the efforts of Bakugou Mitsuki. When he attempted to escape - keyword ‘attempted’ - she quickly caught up with him, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and told him in detail what she would do if he ditched the party that your lovely mother put so much effort into preparing for you, and how do you think she would feel if you just abandoned her like that?

Izuku made no more protests. During the car ride back home, he ruminated. In his last life, he was not particularly close to his parents. They were simply unable to match his intelligence, and any impromptu visits were met with mild horror. Inko's personality was strikingly similar, accepting of anything Izuku threw at her. So he had treated her in a similar fashion. Unfortunately, due to his regular deletion of useless information and knowledge, he didn’t remember his original parents well, and Inko had come to replace their location in his mind palace. Until this point, he had ignored it - it was of no consequence - but when Mitsuki started talking about Inko, Izuku's first reaction was to protect. Not amusement at the blatant attempt to emotionally manipulate him, not a cold analysis of why she used that as an argument, but the desire to protect.

Inexplicably, he had grown attached. (Again.)

After some deliberation, he decided to continue acting like normal. It wouldn’t have a large effect on his current life, although he might have to look into teaching her some self-defense and common sense - both are noticeably lacking in the general public, and getting outside protection would only attract attention. Perhaps he could get Mitsuki to help, once she proved herself worthy of trust. He might hold a minor grudge against the woman for forcing him to come to the party. Then again, it was for his mother's well-being, so Izuku supposed that he could let it slide just this once. (Sherlock reviewed that thought with dawning horror. All. Watson's. Fault.)

Considering his expectations, the party was… not that bad. Apparently, the invitations hadn't been for the children with parents tagging along, but for the parents with childcare added on. In addition, there were two sets of activities, one for the parents and one for the kids, so Izuku could choose which to do. Like there was any choice in the first place. Izuku joined the parents without hesitation. He had seen Bakugou, and that altercation would not have ended well.

At first, they treated Izuku like a child, with cries of how cute he looked and how mature he acted, like a little adult. That lasts until the activities start, which were all geared towards testing the mind. Needless to say, Izuku thoroughly defeated his opponents, and they started treating him more seriously. Finally. He spent the rest of the day discussing Deerstalker’s posts that he had ‘read’ with the adults. Apparently, his online persona was becoming well-known with the expansion into various platforms. After all, information traveled quickly on the internet. (Sherlock could still remember the #SherlockLives that started trending half an hour after he returned to Britain. Thirty minutes.)

The day drew to a close, and Izuku opened his only present, supposedly bought with the cooperation of all the attendees. After some careful unwrapping, he opened the small box and stared. It was a pair of tickets - one for him and one for Inko - for a tour of All Might’s hero agency. And there was even a Q&A session. Izuku would be able to ask professionals from All Might's hero agency anything and be promptly answered. A smirk spread across his face. They wouldn't know what hit them. He honestly appreciated the opportunity, - there are few gifts he would consider superior. (Stop thinking about impossibilities, Sherlock, you can't go back and it wouldn't matter anyway because John's already de-)

He gave a small bow to hide the flash of pain on his face before thanking them for the tickets. They smiled and commented on how well-behaved Izuku was. As the party died down, people departed with their children in tow. Eventually, the house was quiet once more, and he holed up in his room to work.

Izuku needed to figure out how to tour hero agencies more.

A small corner of his mind noted that the tour guide’s smile was becoming increasingly frozen, the expert that she called over to answer Izuku’s questions was looking at him with something akin to bewildered awe, and the rest of the group was just trying to process this whole debacle. That is, except for his mother, who was smiling at his enthusiasm. But none of that mattered because Izuku was in his personal version of heaven. He’d gotten new Quirks for his notebooks, an idea or two for Deerstalker, and best of all, face-to-face accounts about how the place worked. There was no need to wait for a comprehensive reply online, and he could make more observations with every glance around the room.

He really, really needed to do this more often.

Eventually, they ran out of time, and Izuku left with thoughts running through his head, new plans already gaining shape. He could help the police with their cases, albeit anonymously, to start building goodwill for his eventual career of consulting detective. Perhaps he could do it for a cost. Having an emergency stash of money wouldn't hurt, especially considering that tours of hero agencies were rather expensive. In addition, his classmates would probably start developing their Quirks soon, so he could start a new series of notebooks about possible careers and uses, a deviation from just focusing on applications to hero work. And, of course, he still had to maintain his old activities.

At least he wouldn't be bored. (Much.)

True to his predictions, his fellow classmates began manifesting their Quirks only two weeks after the tour. They were nothing he hadn’t seen before, and he quickly grew bored of the matter. Irritatingly, the other children didn’t seem to understand his disinterest. For the first time in months, Izuku found himself hounded by inquisitive kids at every step, blabbering on about what Quirks they’ll get and how they’re going to become amazing Pro Heroes. The issue had reached the point where he had to hide in the closets just to get a moment of peace to work. So, he attempted to dissuade them by pointing out the irrationality of their statements in terms that they should be able to understand. Hopefully. (Sherlock had grown up with Mycroft and Eurus, so his view of ‘ordinary children’ might have been a bit skewed.)

“The idea that all of you will grow up and become heroes makes no sense. What happens if your Quirk isn’t good for being a hero? Can you work hard enough to get in a course for heroes in high school? And if you do become a hero, can you catch enough villains to pay for basic needs, like food and water? It’s not as simple as you children think it is.”

It did not go as well as expected. Instead of being intimidated into avoidance, they kept asking him questions about what they should do instead, about how he figured that out, or if applicable, whether their Quirk was good for heroics.  He gave short, clipped answers to each question, only replying the first time it was asked. “Why ask me? It’s your life.” “I used my brain.” “Unless you get smarter, no. I honestly could care less about your Quirk.”

Over time, they stopped bothering him, instead discussing among themselves much more realistic prospects for the future. And, yes, Izuku had seen the strange looks their parents have been giving him lately - he’d have to be blind to not notice. He just didn’t care about it. As far as Izuku was concerned, he gave the children an advantage over their peers by getting them to think logically about their future professions. At the very least, they’ll be better prepared for failure to become a pro hero.

Of course, as always, there was an exception to this conclusion. Only two weeks after Izuku got rid of the last curious toddlers, Bakugou got his Quirk: Explosions. The boy took it as a sign that he would be the best hero ever, surpassing even All Might. Now, normally, this wouldn’t even make it on Izuku’s radar. However, Bakugou had gotten inflated with self-confidence, which for some reason had caused him to start bullying the other children at daycare. Izuku was very, very glad that he wasn’t a normal child, and thus, would never be able to experience such convoluted thinking and consider it reasonable.

His main reason for intervening was simple: objectively speaking, Bakugou could be a great hero. He had the drive necessary, and his Quirk was suitably offensive. The only issue was his personality. If Bakugou started down the path of bullying, it would decrease his chances of becoming a hero, and even if he did, his emotions would get in the way of his job. A better choice would be stopping his bullying before it got worse. And that was why Izuku was standing in front of some kid, raising an eyebrow at Bakugou.

Bakugou was obviously confused by the green-haired boy standing in front of his next victim, but that didn’t last for long as hesitation gave way to anger. How disappointingly typical of him. “What are you doing, nerd? Shouldn’t you be hiding in the corner and typing on your fancy little computer?”

“Bakugou, you do want to become a Pro Hero, right?”

“Yeah, duh! Are you deaf?”

Izuku sighed. “And you want to go to UA, I presume?”

“I don’t just want to, I will!” Checkmate.

“Do you think that a school like UA will let a bully attend their elite hero classes?” If Bakugou couldn’t connect the dots at this point, Izuku would have to resort to more drastic measures going by the name of Bakugou Mitsuki. Luckily for both sides, the kid had a moment of insight and reluctantly backed off.

Bakugou didn’t attempt to bully others afterward, although his attitude was as caustic as always. Izuku wasn’t going to bother to change that. There were more important things in life to do, like stealing money from All for One and donating it to various hero agencies. It was almost too easy to rile the man up.

Extra:

Inko had always known that Izuku was not a normal child. He was too well-behaved, even when he was a baby, and his eyes were always sharp, curious. But what worried her the most was none of these. It was his happiness.

He never smiled.

Sometimes, she feared that he would never find a reason to. It remained unspoken but haunted her nonetheless.

Then, on his first birthday, everything changed. She saw interest in his eyes as she explained the concept of pro heroes. She had lived with him for his whole life, so she didn’t miss the flash of excitement across his face, the upward quirk to his lips. And for the first time, Inko could feel the shadow of fear fade away.

When he asked to use the computer despite his young age because he wanted to find out more about heroes, she didn’t object. When he started watching the video filled with fire and death and screaming, she smiled at his confident statement before leaving the room, silently closing the door behind her. When he asked for a laptop on his second birthday, she bought one of the most modern ones - Hisashi’s paycheck was enough to buy it five times over and have enough remaining to live comfortably for a year or two. As he fell asleep at night, she sang him a bedtime tune that her mother once sang to her. And in the mornings, she woke him up with a quiet call and ruffle of his hair.

Izuku was not a normal child, but he was Inko’s son, and she loved him all the more for it.

Chapter Text

Age: 3.5 years

People had been assuming that Izuku’s Quirk was his intelligence for years, although whether that was true remained uncertain. Sherlock’s reincarnation was either a result of his Quirk or another’s; all other possibilities, such as winning the reincarnation lottery, were astronomically unlikely. But none of that mattered in the end. He hadn’t shown signs of any other Quirk, and the only thing left to do with his Quirk was to iron out the specifics. After all, intelligence could be the result of a variety of Quirks, all with their own advantages and limitations. So, he needed to visit a Quirk doctor to finalize his Quirk before entering it into the government records. That is, once he found a decent doctor whose views he could relate with and wasn’t working for All for One. Eventually, he managed to narrow down the options down to one person and handed it to his mother, who by this point knew to listen to Izuku’s opinions. She smiled at him, ruffled his hair (“Thank you, Izuku.”), and went to schedule an appointment.

Due to Deerstalker’s influence over the years - both direct and indirect - Quirk doctors had begun to treat the extra toe joint with a bit more skepticism, opting to first see if the subject had any idea what their Quirk might be, testing to see if it was genuine, and looking at their parent’s Quirks if all else failed. So, when Izuku arrived for his appointment, the doctor didn’t bother x-raying his foot to check whether there was a toe joint or not. Instead, he was asked what his Quirk might be, tested for said Quirk - a high school level reading test may have sounded impressive, but Izuku was practically falling asleep halfway through - and brought to a room with his mother and the doctor for a debriefing about his Quirk.

“In conclusion, Izuku’s Quirk, Logic, increases his IQ to a level above that of even adults. Paired with a child’s ability to learn new concepts, it’s no surprise that he started using a computer when he was only one year old.” She looked down at the subject of her explanation. “You can go far in life if you try, Izuku, and I can’t wait to see how you’ll change this world.”

Izuku nodded to her in acknowledgment as he typed on his laptop, which he had pulled out the minute he sat on the stool. “By the way, can I start going to school? And if so, how many grades can I skip?” He had initially considered becoming a consultant detective again, but that idea was quickly scrapped. Best case scenario, he would be stuck in a police station, doing paperwork because crime scenes were no place for innocent, impressionable youth to be. Besides, it would go into police records, and there was no need to make it easy for All for One to figure out SH ’s true identity. Instead, a better choice would be to get through the required education as fast as possible to get it over with, especially the latter years. Why? Earlier grades may have annoying children, but high school had teenagers. Of course, this was all assuming he could skip through the whole thing.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. “If I could, I would, but it’s not possible. There’s no precedent for such an occurrence, and even if you managed to get approval, you would still have to find a suitable school. Compounded by the fact that you’re only three and a half years old, making you more fragile than other children attending primary school, and the whole situation becomes rather unlikely.”

Izuku’s mouth thinned. As he had expected, there was no other option. So now, he was stuck in school for 12 years with a bunch of children. He could learn everything beforehand and not attend shadow school, but that didn't change the fact that he was still stuck in school for a large part of the day. What a waste of time. Perhaps he could bring his computer and type his extracurricular activities in code? Anyways, he wouldn’t be able to get anything of importance done at this appointment, so he should end the visit. “I understand. Mom, do you have any other questions?”

She smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, unperturbed by her previous exclusion from the conversation. “No, I’m fine, Izuku.”  

“Good. And doctor, thank you for your time.” He closed the computer and hopped off the stool. “ I only have three and a quarter years until primary school starts, so that should be plenty of time for me to make my way through the whole school curriculum in addition to my normal activities. I should also start some physical training to rebuild muscle me- ”

“Izuku, you're mumbling again.” He snapped out of his distracted state to smile apologetically at his mother. It had become a recent habit to verbalize his thoughts, likely because he was used to explaining his thought process. Plus, people would believe his deductions more if they saw a physical sign that he was thinking.

(And it was better than turning around to grin at an empty room. Better than calling out to someone that wasn't there. Better than an impossibility.)

Age: 3.75 years

Izuku crossed his arms and glared up at his mother. “Over my dead body.”

Inko sighed. “He went to yours, so you should go to his. It's polite. And Mitsuki said he personally asked for you to come.”

“He just wants me to be there so that he can bother me about how my Quirk isn’t as suited as his for heroics in front of everyone else. For some inexplicable reason, he seems to think that’s public humiliation. Besides, I can barely stand daycare, let alone intentionally going to a location with an influx of children.”

“Katsuki hasn’t ‘bothered you’, as you put it, for quite some time, or you would have mentioned it during dinner. Maybe he’s trying to turn over a new leaf. And if you’re able to make it through daycare almost every single day, getting through the party should be easy.” She smiled. “Please, Izuku?”

Stupid emotional manipulation. Stupid unconditional kindness. And stupid smiles that made Izuku want to give in because of their sheer brightness. No, Izuku was going to stick with his decision - acquiescing to make her happy now would only result in more torture afterward. Stay with the plan. “I am not going to Bakugou’s birthday party. I already go to the same daycare, and they’ll celebrate it there with cake and everything. What’s the point of doing it all over again? We both know that I won't enjoy it.”

Inko’s eyes brightened. “I could ask Mitsuki to come and convince you! She got you to go to your birthday last time, right?” And there was the blackmail. It was a warning sign for Izuku to finish the argument quickly.

“I am not going, and that’s final!”

Izuku resisted the urge to rub his forehead. “Despite popular belief, exceptional intelligence does not equal the ability to read minds.” Bakugou looked upset, but honestly, what had he expected to happen? Izuku had reluctantly arrived at the party five minutes ago because his mother managed to guilt trip him into coming. Thankfully, he only had to be there for an hour. His plan to stay out of sight was promptly destroyed when Bakugou grabbed his arm and dragged him into the guest bedroom to talk. Unfortunately, the child didn’t seem to have thought this through, since they proceeded to have a bit of a staring contest. That is, until now.

“You’re smart.” Judging by the scowl on Bakugou’s face, he hadn’t meant to say that, but he kept going. “You’re smart, and you’re not becoming a Pro Hero, so you’re not competition.” Technically, Izuku was still debating whether to become a Pro Hero or not, but interrupting Bakugou at this point would be counterproductive. “And with your quirk, it won’t be difficult for you to do. You’ve probably already done it anyway, so it’s not like you’d be using a lot of effort.” Ah. That’s what this was about.

“You want me to analyze your Quirk.” He had thought this was a possible action for Bakugou to take, but Izuku didn’t think it would happen this early. After all, Katsuki had issues with him, which became blatantly obvious every single time they interacted. He had underestimated the child’s determination. Of course, that didn’t mean that Izuku was just going to agree without further negotiation. As Deerstalker, even if Bakugou didn’t know about his online account, people were willing to pay hefty amounts of money for analyses of various things. (He’d refused any offers so far, but that was beside the point.) Izuku was hardly going to give out assessments to preschoolers because they asked politely. “And why should I do that?”

Bakugou stared at him, eyes wide in shock, but quickly schooled his expression. “I’ll keep our classmates from interacting with you in class. In return, I want regular discussions about how to improve my quirk. One analysis obviously won’t last me until I get into UA.”

So Bakugou could think things through if he tried hard enough. Izuku shrugged. “Sure.” It would take work, but with enough effort, perhaps he could improve the child’s logic and have a proper conversation with someone. (Not as a replacement for John - never - but instead, a distraction. Something else to keep his mind off Sherlock and on Izuku.) He forced those thoughts away and pulled the backpack off his shoulders to rifle through its contents.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Izuku paused to peer up at the irritated boy. “Getting the relevant notebook to show you my notes on your Quirk.”

Bakugou stared back at him, incredulous. “You want to start now? We’re at my birthday party!”

“So? It’s only the day you were born. You’ll have more. Unless you die, but that’s highly unlikely.”

“We go to the same daycare every day. I’m not missing my birthday party for this!” Bakugou stepped around him and stalked out of the room.

“Huh. Must be one of those normal childhood things John tried to explain to me.” Too bad he’d deleted it with the assumption that he was never going to need it. Izuku glanced around the room to make sure it was empty before pulling out his computer. Perfect. He could just spend the rest of the hour working. Considering the recent request, he grabbed a new notebook from his backpack and flipped it open to the first page. He might as well start drafting up a plan for Bakugou. Now, what was there in his mind palace about Explosion?

The following day, Bakugou stood up in daycare and announced that the next person who tried to talk to Midoriya would get a fist in their face. He then went to sit next to Izuku and requested a starting analysis. Izuku sighed and mentally added subtlety to the list of things they needed to work on before opening the corresponding notebook. “First off, since you’re trying to become a Pro Hero, there’s much more to work on besides just your Quirk. For example...”

Age: 5.375 years

Sometimes, it felt like a higher being was laughing at his misfortune. Izuku stared at the kimono he was wearing with blatant distrust - there were golden dragons and flowers on the damned thing - before flattening his mouth in annoyance. “Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

Beside him, an equally disgusted Bakugou twitched, dressed in a kimono of his own. “Because if you make me go through this alone, I will murder you. And also let our classmates loose on you for a week.”

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” Why exactly was Izuku wearing a kimono in the first place? Simple. Japan’s celebrations were evil and deserved to freeze in the seventh layer of hell. Shichi-Go-San was celebrated after a boy’s 5th birthday on November 15th, where they were dragged to a temple and forced to pray. And all of this had to be done while wearing a glorified dress - sorry, kimono.

“Are you sure I can’t just burn down the temple with my Quirk?”

“No, Bakugou, you can’t.” He paused and reconsidered. “Maybe.”

(They do not burn down the temple. Regardless, that night, Izuku dreams of bonfires and screaming. Who needs nightmares when they have memories?)

Age: 7.25 years

Sherlock is was homeschooled. He never had to deal with classes about how addition worked. Never had to stuff useless information into his brain with the prospect of it remaining for years. Never had to deal with condescending teachers banning him from using a laptop in class because it’s against the rules and what if he breaks it?

Izuku took a bite of his lunch, irritated. Okay, so he might be a little jealous of his past self. Sue him. It’s only been six months into his first year, and he's already internally dying from the sheer idiocy in this hellhole. There's only one thing here that makes the whole ordeal bearable: the deal with Bakugou. If Izuku had been forced to interact with other children in addition to everything, the results would have been unpleasant. Speaking of which, the child was coming for another meeting.

“Any changes to the plan, Deku?”

“Not really. Things are progressing as expected, and-” Izuku paused as his mind finished processing the rest of the question. “What did you just call me?”

“Some idiot in class tried to call you Deku. I think he was trying to insult you. Don’t worry, I dealt with him.”

Izuku raised an eyebrow. “So you decided that this was the solution to the name issue.” Interesting.

“I’m not calling you by your last name because that’s too formal for friends, and you won’t let me use your first name for no reason. This works.” Bakugou was still rather defensive on occasion, but at least he wasn’t blowing up at Izuku after every other sentence for some perceived slight. Not verbally, that was - Izuku could sometimes see resentment in the child’s eyes, but it was always quickly covered by the usual anger.

“Of course I have a reason. If you call me by my first name, our parents are eventually going to find out and start thinking we’re friends.”

“But we are friends!” Bakugou frowned. “Is this one of those things where you try to make me figure something out that you think is obvious but really isn’t?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?” A bite. “Your quirk’s acting up again, by the way.”

“Shut up and let me think!” The small explosions stopped, and Bakugou’s eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. “Playdates?”

“Of course not. We could just practice quirk analysis or do any of our other normal activities.”

“My mom?”

The edge of Izuku's mouth tilted up. “Closer. Why?”

“Well, you try to avoid her when possible, so maybe you're afraid of what she'll do when she finds out?”

“Amazing deduction. That statement made perfect sense.”

“Really?”

“No.” Izuku leaned forward. “When making deductions, you must always consider the people involved, or you will fail. That statement might have been correct with one of your other classmates, but not me. Why?”

Bakugou glared at him. “Because you're an a-”

“Language. The number one hero doesn't curse.”

“-annoying jerk who won't admit that his real Quirk is mind reading. Just being smart doesn’t explain some of the things I've seen you do. You figured out how a kid's Quirk worked after looking at him for two seconds!”

“It was basic deduction.”

“It was an emitter type Quirk!”

Izuku snorted. “Exactly. Basic and boring. And your stalling isn't bad, although you should try doing it from a stranger's point of view. Most villains don't advertise their hobbies or random childhood stories unless they're stupid, and even then, they’re more liable to just make random taunts. And I don't avoid people out of fear. That would mean that I’m afraid of the other children at school. I avoid people because they're annoying and stupid.” The only times he ever felt fear was for others, and those situations usually ended in him facing his enemies head-on.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed menacingly, but Izuku could tell the child was just disappointed that Izuku had noticed his plan so easily. “Fine.” Another period of silence ensued before Bakugou opened his mouth again. “Your birthdays?”

Finally. “Yes. Elaborate.”

“Well, after you agreed to work with me on my fourth birthday, my mom assumed we were friends and threw a huge party for your fourth birthday, right? I remember you standing there with an obviously fake smile on your face. You hated it. They’ve gotten better since then, but if I start calling you by your first name, maybe she’ll start up again. That right?”

Izuku grinned. “I suppose you have progressed in your deductive skills. Infinitesimally so, but still better.”

Bakugou scowled. “I’m better than everyone else in this goddamn school besides you, and you know it. And stop using such fancy words. ‘A Pro Hero should appeal to audiences of all ages with his or her language,’ right?”

“I’m not going to become a Pro Hero, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”

Age: 9.5 years

Izuku closed his eyes, pensive. The last couple of years had been boring, almost mind-numbingly so. His physical age gave him a limited amount of actions he could take. Venturing into the more disreputable parts of town to make contacts would be akin to suicide, and the word of a nine year old wasn’t very credible, even with his ‘Quirk.’ In addition, he was forced to spend a large part of his time at school, which meant that he couldn't do certain activities without a crowd of curious children looking over his shoulder. If he hadn't gotten special permission to use his computer in class because of his Quirk, he probably would have died from sheer boredom. They were still learning how to speak Japanese in class, for heaven’s sake. Outside of school, he usually spent his time on either speed training or Deerstalker. His training mainly involved running around the neighborhood, as he was too young to undergo serious physical training without repercussions. And as for Deerstalker, the online alias had gained enough credibility to start giving the police some recommendations about their cases, although he couldn’t do much more without signing a contract in person, and Izuku wasn't going to reveal his true identity this early. Not when he was still weak and vulnerable, with his mother and Bakugou unprotected. And now, because of these restrictions, something had happened and he hadn’t known until it was too late.

His eyes snapped back open and focused back on the computer. 'All Might Returns!’ was written large across the screen, an image of the Pro Hero plastered behind it. The first sign he’d gotten that something was wrong was when All for One suddenly disappeared. The second had been All Might’s sudden disappearance at around the same time. His agency had claimed he was taking a short and deserved break, which Izuku filtered through his mental interpreter to mean that the man was out of commission and his agency was panicking like headless chickens. And now, All Might was back, but only a few days after his return, Izuku could already tell that something was wrong. Sightings of him were only centered in one area instead of across multiple cities, he wasn’t appearing as often as before, and he didn’t bother to stay after a fight anymore, almost as if he was on a tight schedule or limited amount of time. The final nail in the coffin was Toshinori Yagi. He had suddenly become emaciated, looking like a strong wind could knock him over, and he was randomly coughing up blood every day.

He must have gotten severely injured, but how? It was most likely because of a battle, considering his overpowered Quirk, and the only person Izuku knew of who could match All Might in a fight was All for One. The man could stockpile multiple Quirks, possibly even multiplying their effect, to stand on the same ground as the Pro Hero. It made sense. (It was all Izuku’s fault. His taunts had caused All for One to be cautious enough to sneak under the radar, and Izuku had failed.)

Now then, what conclusions could he make? First off, All for One was probably severely injured, if not already dead, or All Might wouldn’t still be alive. Secondly, if All for One was alive, Izuku would have to hunt the man down again. Izuku needed a better underground network now. And finally, All Might’s days were numbered. Whatever All for One had done to him would have probably put any other Pro Hero out of commission, judging by how it had affected All Might. Even with his Quirk, All Might wouldn’t be able to continue on like this forever. And when he did fall, the consequences would be severe. After all, the downside of making oneself a legend was the shock and despair that followed the inevitable downfall. (Sherlock knew this better than most.  Moriarty’s death created a mess that took two years to clean up - an empty spot in the position of power in the criminal world was disastrous. And, of course, along with the incident came Sherlock’s own faked death, which had its own set of issues.)

Izuku separated his hands from their previously steepled position, settled them on the keyboard, and began typing. He had work to do and a limited amount of time to do it. "Step one," he murmured, "information."

Extra:

When Katsuki was in preschool, he believed everything adults told him. So when they explained that his quirk made him the perfect hero, he didn’t think twice about it. Instead, he started pushing the other kids around, showing off his quirk at every opportunity, and generally acting like an entitled brat. After all, his quirk made him better than everyone else, right?

But everything changed when Izuku entered the scene, getting him to stand down with a couple of words. At first, Katsuki was pissed. How dare that shitty side character act superior to him? He spent weeks fuming about the event, which eventually culminated in him complaining about the whole situation to his mother. He thought she would agree with him, so her response was unexpected.

“He sounds lonely.” Izuku, lonely? Ridiculous. Midoriya wasn’t lonely, or he wouldn’t be sitting in that corner all the time, typing on his computer like a grown-up. He’d be talking with all the other kids, trying to make friends or something. Only an idiot would choose to keep being lonely, and Izuku wasn’t stupid. Katsuki decided to ignore what his mom had said.

Irritatingly, his mind didn’t seem to understand, and now he was stuck with obviously wrong ideas every time he saw Midoriya. He tried riling Izuku up at school to show that the nerd wasn’t lonely, but his brain kept making stupid excuses. ‘He just wants to talk with someone who can keep up with him.’ ‘The other kids are probably just super annoying.’ ‘He never looks happy.’

And then they changed into something more personal. ‘I’m the smartest kid beside him in the class.’ ‘He tolerates my questions more than anyone else’s.’ ‘He smirked the other day while we were arguing.’

[Bakugou’s resolve was strong, but even mountains eventually erode away.]

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that this thing, whatever it was, wouldn’t just go away by itself. That wasn’t how ideas worked. The more he tried to ignore it, the more he’d think about it. So, he decided to just confront Izuku with a ridiculous excuse to try to get to know the nerd better. Katsuki would make an offer, Midoriya would refuse, and that would be the end. He’d do it on his birthday so he could show his mom how he had obviously tried, but it hadn’t worked. Problem solved. (So what if Katsuki spent days coming up with a really good reason? That just meant he could say he tried his best. He didn’t actually want to become friends spend time with the nerd.)

And then the day arrived. Katsuki asked and Midoriya…

Midoriya agreed to consider the idea.

He agreed.

Katsuki had been wrong .

He quickly shut his mouth and kept negotiating the friendship deal, dragging a scowl back on his face. There was no way in hell that he was going to let Midoriya slip away, not when Katsuki could get professional quirk advice for basically nothing in return. He finished the agreement and returned to his birthday party, thoughts whirling around his head about what to do next. Midoriya was willing to help him become the number one Pro Hero in exchange for some protection from children? Katsuki was going to be the best goddamn bodyguard there was. (Midoriya was lonely? Katsuki would help.)

At first, it was awkward, even if he didn’t understand exactly what he was feeling at the time. Katsuki didn’t know what to talk about, and Midoriya only spoke when necessary. But as time passed, conditions slowly improved, short talks lengthening into conversations and discussions. And Katsuki slowly realized that Midoriya didn’t look down on him. “If I were forced into a physical fight with you right now, I would lose. If you tried to play chess with me right now, you would lose. Just because my Quirk is different doesn’t mean that it’s superior, merely a natural advantage in a different area.” (‘He’s just telling you that to make you feel better,’ a voice whispered in the back of his head. ‘In reality, you’re just weak.’ Katsuki ignored it.)

When Katsuki was in preschool, he had believed everything adults told him. But now, he knew that adults weren’t always right, that adults were as human as him and could make mistakes. They looked at his temper and thought he was stupid, ignoring how he was in the top of every class, how he poured time and effort into learning. After all, he had an amazing Quirk, and that was all that mattered. They looked at Midoriya and thought he was shy and weak, assuming that avoidance and need for protection meant fear of others. They didn’t understand what his Quirk truly meant, not when it wasn’t as blatant as Katsuki’s. Adults were stupid, and if Katsuki wanted to know something, he would have to ask Izuku who was always better than him, no matter how hard he tried because Katsuki wasn’t good enough.