Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Human evolution is a strange concept to understand for a young brain. Despite this, it remains, to this day, as Izuku’s favorite rambling topic. According to Darwin’s theory, evolution is essential for the survival of a species. Individuals with favorable traits will survive and thrive in the ecosystem. Meanwhile, the unfortunate ones who do not possess these traits will be less likely to survive, and eventually, they will be replaced. 

Survival of the fittest. It was an ironic truth for his reality. Being quirkless was an anomaly when it once had been the norm: when humankind focused on science and technology, when living would have been easier for him. To this day, Darwin’s Theory of Evolution remains unchallenged. In a society in which 80% of the population has a quirk, there is no room for the weak, and although the ecosystem is no longer a rainforest or a desert, natural selection always takes what it wants.

A child being diagnosed as quirkless is a disgrace to a family. A toe joint that was not supposed to be there is what broke Midoriya’s household apart, and sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from finding a hint of amusement at the fact. Many quirked people still had that extra, useless toe joint, but quirk regulations had always been unfair. Once the scan showed that abnormalcy in your body, you were medically diagnosed as quirkless. 

That day would be forever imprinted into the carvings of his personality. His father’s face, raged with distaste and impotence. His mother’s pacing across the hall, listening to her husband’s deranged whispers. They were the perfect family: a renowned scientist, a loving wife, and a brilliant child, who seemed to be following his father’s footsteps. 

His father left the next morning. He didn’t leave a note, or an explanation, it wasn’t necessary for them to understand the reason behind his departure. Darwin was right once again. It may have been hundreds of years since he formulated his theory, the ecosystems might have changed, and society may or may not have progressed. Still, in the end, everything was reduced to this: nature does not tolerate weakness. If the universe smells frailty, it will come after you. 

In hollow nights, as the world seemed to cave in, he wondered if Darwin’s theory did society any good. How couldn’t he question it? His ideas were the engine of his suffering, the logic behind his bloodied bedsheets. Discrimination was atemporal but at the same time, forgotten. It was the reason why families turned their backs on their children, just as his father and mother did. 

Despite this, Midoriya liked to remember his mother the way she was, and not what she had become – what evolution had shaped her into. He missed his mother’s comforting perfume, her goodnight kisses, and even small talk at breakfast, when the sun wasn’t up and everything was okay. Midoriya still had her, but she wasn’t his mother anymore. She was wholly a product of her circumstances.

The perfume was replaced by the neverending smell of burnt flesh, purple and blue kisses speckling his scarred skin, and small talk turned into taunts and the sound of his distraught cries. 

He used to daydream about alternative universes, in which society wasn’t so unfair and evolution hadn’t left him behind, but his dreams and smiles were pointless, just as his attempts to become something that he had been considered unworthy for. His compassion for others was the only thing on the path to surrender. It didn’t matter how much he desired to be a hero, he had accepted it years ago, and everyone kept reminding him so, in case he forgot that he was useless. 

But he had been so naive. So naive to think that Darwin was right, that having a quirk would fix all of his problems. The pity and the belittling he’d received for not having one would never be forgotten – society wouldn’t change, and people would continue to suffer. According to the scientist’s theory, evolution is a slow, gradual, and continuous process. The abrupt appearance of quirks broke everything they had believed as the truth about their existence. Darwin was wrong about that aspect of evolution. At the time he formulated his theory, there was barely any knowledge about DNA. He didn’t know how spontaneous genetic mutations were, or how fast things could change in a society with the birth of a glowing baby. As his father once said, theories are theories. They are not proven or disproved, and although they should be considered, there is no absolute truth in science.

It all started on a summer evening. 

Izuku’s dry lips tasted metallic. New bruises were blooming across his torso, and his scorched back felt tight and sticky against the building’s electric control box. This happened often: two times a week if he was lucky. This time, while he patiently received the blows directed at him by a group of classmates, something felt different. Looking back, this had been a warning: there was no pain – no matter how hard the bullies hit him, no matter how deep the cuts in his body were. 

He tilted his head up, glancing at the red and orange hues of the sky. The sun was setting down before his eyes, and exhaustion was plaguing his brain. The alleyway he was resting in was quiet, the pavement hot against his injured legs. The boy sighed, feeling eerily calm after getting beaten up by people who he should consider friends. He briefly remembered that day’s biology class as he stood up and stretched his limbs. Despite being used to similar situations, there was always a rush of adrenaline – which could be the reason behind his lack of pain. Flight or fight, was it? He picked up his backpack and decided to discard the theory. He should be feeling pain by now. Midoriya pressed a hand to his chest as if to ground himself, lifting his shirt with the other. His skin was red and angry, crimson bruises already forming along his torso. He staggered when he noticed a large gash on the left side of his ribs. These were not light injuries – not the worst he’s ever had, but if his logic was correct, he shouldn’t even be standing. 

He breathed in deeply, straightened his clothes, and made his way home. The walk back always seemed too short for his liking. It was the only moment he could allow himself to think, pitying himself in his self-soothing thoughts. He was only a kid when all of this happened. Eleven years in this world is a small time, but for the quirkless, it felt like an eternity. You only had to glance at the statistics to realize how broken society was: 16.5% of all suicide victims in the country were students. Out of those, 65% were quirkless. However, despite how many statistics showed the discrimination that they suffered, despite how many people died because of a genetic factor, society would just shrug it away after a good night’s sleep. Izuku was used to it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tired of suffering.

The boy played with his house keys as he reached his apartment complex. The sun had fully set by now, twinkling stars appearing on the horizon. A wave of relief flashed across his small face as he remembered his mother would not have arrived yet – she had a night shift at the bar. He climbed up the stairs of the gray building, craving the feeling of a bed under his body. 

Was having a quirk worth it? He’d asked, he’d begged the universe for a miracle every day of his life, knowing that everything he would receive back was silence. Izuku would stare at people with powerful quirks, wondering how someone could be so powerful and him so weak. It wasn’t jealousy, it was despair – he wanted a quirk so that he didn’t have to wake up every day covered in bruises. It didn’t have to be flashy or useful, just something to prove to society that his life had a purpose. He lay down in bed, closing his eyelids briefly. There wouldn’t be nightmares interrupting his sleep that night. 

Sometimes Midoriya resembled his father in revolting ways: he too wished that Darwin’s theories were wrong. 

Was it worth it? No, it wasn’t. 

But his prayers had been answered. 

He stared at the dead body of his mother laying on the hardwood floor of the apartment, her eyes glistening and devoid of life. The sun was barely up, and the metallic scent of her blood coated his small hands. 

He had been asleep, on his bed, a mere five minutes ago. Her screams had already died down, and the ambulance was on its way. Round, deep wounds traversed her clothing first, and her skin followed suit. She wasn’t bleeding anymore, as a touch from the child had stopped it. Just as it had started it. 

Did he get what he wanted in the end?

No. The universe didn’t give him a quirk.

It gave him a curse.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 1.

General Information:

Allows the user to manipulate blood body fluids? components from a human’s organism’s body at free will. The quirk is effective on the user as well.

Once the components are no longer in touch with the owner, the user is unable to manipulate them back into the owner but can stop more from coming out close the wound.

For some reason, the user does not experience pain, even when the quirk is not being used.

Highly dangerous. Proceed with caution when testing.

Testing:

Is pee affected? For some reason, urine is not affected. Maybe it has to do with it being outside the body?

The fluids components can cannot only be pulled from the organism or stopped from going out. I’ve done some testing and reached some mild coagulation in my test subject’s blood. I was able to immediately recover the blood to its initial state.

I’ve decided to name it biocide since I feel like it’s appropriate. I mean, there’s no way I’m going to a quirk counselor any time soon, so I named it myself. I’ve searched online and there’s no quirk identical to mine. There have been reported cases of people (Vlad King) being able to manipulate their blood, but I can control much more than blood. Plus, it seems like those users manipulated their blood to make, for example, swords wow but I am unable to control it once outside the body.

I have no idea why I stopped feeling pain, but it’s a pain in the ass. Figuratively. Really good for situations that need high pain tolerance, bad for when you’re bleeding out and don’t even bat an eye.

OKAY WHAT THE HELL what is happening.

I was messing a bit with what I could do with my blood, and gave myself a sugar-rush? honestly, no idea.

Turns out it wasn’t body fluids, but now we also have hormones in the mix. I’m going to say body components, although that’s probably not right. Having control over my endocrine system seems sketchy to me, I will have to do further testing on the matter.

Oh my god does that mean I can make myself taller? Turns out I don’t know how to control it yet (Might never be able to?) . I know what hormone I want to over-activate  and it’s a similar feeling to when I control blood out of someone. Before I activated the “resistance phase”, known to be common in over-training or stressful situations. That’s why I felt so alert suddenly? This is only a theory. I might have to find a way to test my theories.

Izuku watched his blood slide down his pale hand as he concentrated to stop the bleeding. He felt a soft tug in his chest, an indication that the wound was now closing. The boy took a tissue from the floor he was sitting on, already red from all of the “experiments” as he liked to call them. Midoriya knew that he couldn’t experiment on himself all day since death from blood loss wasn’t his objective, and although he sometimes used small animals to test it, he felt awful after doing it. He sometimes forgot that all organisms experience physical pain, and that he was just a simple exception. He wrote down his observations on this last test carefully, crossing out the parts that were previously wrong, and hid the notebook under his bed. He was able to take with him all of this analysis notebooks, and he got a new one solely dedicated to his quirk.

The green-head stood up from the cold tiled floor and checked the date. It had almost been eight months since he developed his ability.

Getting used to his new situation hadn’t been easy. After his mother's heart ceased beating he had taken the worst possible decision in that situation: he ran away. Midoriya was fully aware of the circumstances and considering that his father abandoned him years ago, he was an orphan. The paramedics had seen him, so there was no way they were letting him disappear. He was caught not long after. They took his escape as a panic reaction, but Izuku didn’t panic, it was a rational decision.

Of course, they didn’t have to know that.

Having no other close family, his custody was handed to the government, which meant that he was going to an orphanage.

That’s what he dreaded the most. His situation was so bizarre that he didn’t have any time to feel grief for the loss of his mother. It wasn't strange for him, though, as he rarely ever felt anything those days. 'Apathy' and 'emotional numbing' some paramedics had said. They explained to him that it was completely normal after a high-stress situation.

Midoriya’s life turned into a circuit of psychologists, doctors, and counselors. The detectives never discovered the reason for her death, apart from the obvious blood loss and the injuries that closed up mysteriously. Izuku wasn’t going to tell them. He decided to keep his quirkless status for his own sake, at least for now. The psychologists tried to talk about his feelings, on how he felt about losing his mother. The only noticeable thing is that he was clearly losing sleep, even more than before, his eye bags slowly turning into a faint purple tone. Izuku, however, never said anything.

He was shortly placed in a nice orphanage, far away from his old home. That meant he had to change school districts too, but he was relieved about that. Midoriya didn’t want to see his old classmates’ faces. He didn’t think he could bear that. He thought specifically about Bakugou, but he drowned that name in the back of his mind.

After the incident he turned eleven, so he was going to be 12 soon. The orphanage was very lenient, so having no rules whatsoever made Izuku somewhat reckless. Thanks to the insane amounts of hours he spent studying his quirk, he soon needed more detailed information about other topics to keep his brain occupied. So he started researching in computer science, mechanics, and medicine. Studying hard topics that were beyond his level was stimulating instead of frustrating, which was impressive for most adults who approached him in the library. After all, he had always been a very persistent child.

His life at the orphanage was peaceful. All of the kids were there for a reason, so there was no bullying, only children who had been in difficult situations. Sometimes people would come wanting to adopt a kid, and Izuku would make sure to be on his worst behavior those days. He knew he wasn't as cute as he was when he lived with his mother, but his green curls and big eyes frequently grabbed the attention of strangers, and getting adopted was not on his priority list.

The first day in the orphanage he was reading a book when a little girl approached him, completely eager to meet him. Her name was Sakane Mai, and she immediately insisted on being called by her first name. The kid was very active and looked remarkably young, although she was barely a year younger than him. Her hair was pitch black, and her eyes were big and green. Not like Midoriya’s eyes, his were forest green, while hers were citron green. They almost looked radioactive, which made sense, considering her quirk.

It was called shock-wave. At will, she could create a radioactive surrounding, without her being affected. Her parents abandoned her after it first manifested.

Midoriya soon discovered that the girl was an absolute goofball and that she didn’t take a no for an answer. Izuku brushed her off more than once, but the girl kept coming back to him. In the end, they became friends.

Izuku made sure to clean up all of the awfully vibrant red tissues and dump them in the toilet, flushing it quickly as he heard the overactive girl storm into the common room. He washed his hands, eliminating any remaining evidence, and stepped out of the toilet.

“Zuku!” The girl said enthusiastically. Once he said his name to Mai for the first time, she gasped loudly and baptized him as Zuku. Not like Midoriya was complaining.

He clicked his tongue, knowing that irritated the small girl a lot, and answered her.

“What do you want, Mai. I’m busy.”

She softly laughed. “Oh Zuku, I know you’re not busy, come with me! I want to show you something.” Sakane said as he grabbed the boy’s wrist and pulled him with her.

She took the older boy outside of the orphanage, and they crossed a few streets, Mai jumping from excitement. The orphanage wasn’t in a nice place. The crime rate there was really high, yet you could barely see any hero around. Despite being a complete hero fanboy, there was a part of Izuku’s heart that resented them. After learning martial arts for a few months the boy noticed aspects in fights that he wasn’t aware of before, like the fact that most fights were prolonged just for media attention. That’s why he had recently developed a love for underground heroes.

They arrived to a rundown place that looked abandoned.

“What are we doing here?” Izuku asked, completely clueless about what the little devil was planning.

The girl gave him a half-smile and answered. “You remember how you needed materials for your designs or whatever you were talking about the other day? I found the perfect place!” She said as she lifted her arms and pointed to the building.

Izuku could swear that the only person who talked more than he used to was her. He read the sign she was pointing at.

“Mai, you’re amazing,” The green-head said while grinning.

The little girl took him by the wrist once more, and they went inside the building. That place was a scrap yard, exactly what Izuku needed.

When he was diagnosed as quirkless, his father left, and his unsupportive mother was added to the mix, his dream to become a hero was crushed. Despite it all, it never left his mind. It was all he ever wanted to do, and now that he had a quirk, he was going to take the opportunity. A second chance.

It was also a bit out of spite.

“You pretend to be a hero with the same quirk that killed your mother.” A little voice said inside his head, but he pretended not to hear it. After all, that voice was wrong. It wasn't his quirk who killed his mother, it was him.

Midoriya knew his quirk was dangerous and lethal, but being a hero doesn’t mean you have to use your quirk all the time. Being the hero fanboy that he is, Izuku knew a bunch of heroes who relied on support items or pure abilities when their quirks weren’t effective. Midnight’s quirk was just sleeping gas. If the villain wore a gas mask, was she doomed? Of course not. Same thing with Eraserhead. Sure, he could erase quirks, but he was ineffective against mutation types. He fought quirkless too. Izuku not long ago realized that he could have been a hero without a quirk. But now he had one, and he was going to exploit it.

A part of Izuku knew that he would never have the right to become a hero, but you don’t have to be one to help.

Mai listened to his rants very often. She knew Izuku was very smart, scarily so, but she also thought he was absolutely rash and impetuous. She wanted to support him but didn’t want to lose him either, so if he was going to do crazy stuff, she at least wanted him to be protected. That’s why she found the scrap yard. His designs were good, and he was talented enough to pull them through. Although she didn’t know the full extent of his plans, the little girl knew that Izuku had been doing martial arts classes for a while now, and all of those dangerous gadgets were a huge red flag. When she first saw the boy come into the orphanage, and presenting himself to all of the other kids, he didn’t look sad. Sakane was used to seeing and comforting children who weren’t treated fairly by fate, yet Izuku didn’t seem like that. She could see in his eyes something different from the rest. Fiery determination. The green-head was shy and distant at first, but the girl had gotten him to open up a bit. She loved seeing him smile.

She had previously talked with the owner of the scrapyard, the prices were cheap and he seemed nice. They were both received by drill machine sounds and machinery in the background. The owner recognized Mai in a heartbeat and approached them both.

The girl dozed off while the two of them talked about stuff she didn’t understand. Izuku finished quickly and they were soon carrying four heavy bags of scrap back to the orphanage.

“Zuku... are you sure you need all of this? It’s a lot.” The girl asked, already tired from carrying two of the bags. The green-head noticed her struggle and took one bag from her.

“Everything is necessary, I think.” He said, not very sure of himself. “I can save the remaining stuff for later though.” A beautiful smile appeared on his face not long after.

The girl sighed. She wondered if she had done the right thing.

She didn’t know, but the boy’s smile made her think of it as a victory.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 2.

Notes:

Doing any tests now would be dangerous since I’m starting to lose too much blood, and having anemia will make me weak. I want the opposite, so for the time being, no more experiments. I will probably have to buy some iron-rich snacks.

I do have some theories that I would like test out once I get the equipment necessary to do it.

My quirk has been getting stronger. I can now use my quirk passively. I can see the inside of someone’s body, not literally like a picture, but there are visible paths of blood and hormones when I look at someone. Something similar to lights traveling through their bodies. I get a really bad headache afterwards though.

From what I’ve seen, blood is displayed as red lights, and hormones as yellow lights, but those lights disappear when they are outside the organism’s body. Maybe when there is light I’m able to control it, and when there is no light I’m not?

Let’s hope I can find a guinea-pig soon.

Izuku’s fifteenth birthday was just around the corner, but the kid wasn’t sure he would live to see it.

He was officially fucked.

The green-head stopped running and tapped the side of his face, where his microphone was located, activating it. He pressed himself against the brick wall, avoiding whatever was lurking in the shadows.

“Mai, who’s around the corner?” He whispered, breathing heavily. So many years of doing nothing made him have an absolute trash endurance.

“Uhmm...” The girl hummed, clearly eating something. Probably a lollipop again. “Zuku, there’s some kind of snake-man there. He has blades. If I were you, I would avoid him.” 

Bless Mai and the shitty security system of this place.

Of course, Izuku and his hero complex had to step out of his hiding spot and look directly at the man. Or whatever that was.

“Hey uh...” The young vigilante said, looking straight into his snake eyes. “Nice weather tonight.”

He cringed a little. That was the lamest thing he has ever said.

The reptilian gaped at him for a moment. “Dude, it’s rain-” That second of confusion was enough for Midoriya, he raced towards him and threw a punch aimed at his throat, intending to incapacitate the villain. He noticed the objective of the small child, hence he took a step backward, and grabbed the child’s fist. He flipped him over with brutal strength as the green-head yelped while his back hit the ground forcefully. The snake-man opened his mouth and lowered himself, prepared to bite Izuku.

His quirk. A bite and he was doomed.

The teenager strode backward, getting up and back into a fighting stance. The sudden movement took the villain by surprise, losing balance, his body heading right into the concrete floor.

The vigilante didn’t lose the opportunity and slammed the reptilian into the floor, blocking his arms and legs with his body. Midoriya looked at the villain’s strained face, gasping for air.

“K-Keres, please...I wasn’t trying to-” The snake-man would have continued if it wasn’t for the green-head banging his face into the pavement once again.

“If you listen closely, really closely...” The young vigilante started, almost wanting to laugh at the villain’s pleadings. “you can hear me not giving a fuck.”

“Here goes nothing,” he thought, activating his quirk. He deactivated it when he felt a weird sensation in his body, indicating that it was more than enough.

With one last movement, he incapacitated the villain. The green-head checked his pulse, making sure that the guy was still in fact alive. He stood up, muscles aching, throat tasting like iron and with a terrible headache. He grabbed one of the restraining cuffs he had on his belt and secured the snake-man. From one of his pant’s pockets, he took out his phone, old and rusty but untraceable, and quickly dialed a number he had committed to memory.

“Police department of Musutafu, what’s your emergency?” A somewhat robotic voice spoke.

“Hey yo! Keres speaking here, I have a snake dude restrained on the central plaza’s parking lot, you should come and check him out!” He chirped. He immediately hung up, not wanting to talk to the cop.

Before leaving, he took an ultra pink sticky note – courtesy of Mai – and scribbled the details of the crime. He pasted it on his forehead, adding an extra little text on the back.

Izuku half-smiled at the unconscious body of the villain, sighing.

He grabbed the weapons he had dropped during the fight and dashed through the emergency exit.

Tsukauchi Naomasa was so tired. He was barely thirty-six, yet he could feel his entire body aching in pain from countless hours of work.

His job wasn’t easy. Being a detective in a world where villains and heroes were a normal day-to-day thing was hard. The amount of paperwork the poor detective had to go through on a daily basis could kill someone. Yet people had to make his work even harder, for example, a child vigilante. Keres.

Every time one of Tsukauchi’s subordinates came running into his office without a warning, he knew what was about to come.

“Sir, Keres is on the phone.” 

The detective hated those words. Despised them. Because he was not only a child, but he was a sneaky one. The only information available they had on the increasingly popular vigilante was that he was male, plausibly a teenager. That wasn’t even classified information, everyone knew that. What irritated the detective even further was that the kid never used a quirk. Or if he did, the villains didn’t realize that he was using it.

Naomasa sighed loudly, not caring to hide his distress. Everyone knew about his relationship with Keres. 

“What do we have now?” 

“Uh, he said that there’s a snake-man restrained at central plaza’s parking lot. He didn’t give any more details. Sir, there’s probably a note explaining what happened. Should I send a patrol?”

Damn Keres and his sticky notes,  Tsukauchi thought. He nodded at his subordinate, who left closing the door carefully, trying to not irritate the detective even more.

Naomasa rested his head on his office chair and closed his eyes, trying to find a moment of peace.

Keres first appeared five months ago. He didn’t seem like a big deal. Stopped a couple of crimes, mostly without fighting and no apparent use of a quirk. Always left a sticky note signed by him, which was kind of funny at first. It was the police department’s duty to find him, but he wasn’t on any priority list. They discovered he was a teenager or a child when he once stayed at the location to meet the detective that so many times had answered his calls. He was short, too short to be an adult, and his underdeveloped voice was very noticeable. Keres didn’t seem to mind them knowing that information.

Five months forward and he was slowly climbing to the top of every single priority list. If the kid didn’t stop any time soon, he would probably turn into the most popular vigilante of Musutafu. That was another thing that deeply irritated him. How popular the kid was. Not only did this reckless child stop people twice as big as him with his ridiculous gadgets, but he also went to the low-income areas and helped people there, mainly stopping crimes, but also assisting the local people, like for example, helping lost children find their parents.

No wonder everyone loved the kid. Hell, even Tsukauchi appreciated his actions sometimes. But he was still breaking the law for who knows what reason. 

His name was something the detective had spent hours investigating, yet no one could bring any relationship with any real identities, which was something to expect, because the kid was clearly really smart so he wouldn’t use a mix of his name for his vigilante persona. A quick search gave him the meaning of Keres. In Greek mythology, Keres were female death-spirits, who craved human blood. The singular form of Keres was Ker, which was confusing at first since the vigilante could have named himself Ker instead of Keres. 

He’s a kid, he probably thought Keres looked cooler,  the detective first thought when investigating the denomination.

What also seemed confusing was that Keres were female death-spirits, and well, the vigilante was a boy. He referred himself with male pronouns when he talked in third person. Which was too often.

The etymology of the word didn’t ring any bells to him either. In Greek, Ker meant “death” or “doom”, but it was often attributed to diseases or plagues due to popular beliefs in Ancient Greek religion. Yet the vigilante never killed anyone or left any lasting harm to any criminal. 

Why would he choose a name like this, then?

Tsukauchi slowly opened his eyes, knowing he had to check the location Keres sent him. He stood up, grabbing his trench coat from the back of the chair and exited the police department.

“This boy is going to be the death of me.” He thought while arriving at the scene. It wasn't far away from the police station, thus he went walking, ignoring the cold droplets of water landing on his face. The detective arrived at the parking lot, showing his badge to the ticket clerk. He found the place already secured, and people were trying to search the space for any kind of DNA. The villain was still unconscious.

“Don’t waste your time combing the area. This is a parking lot, hundreds of people have been here today. Even if you find something, it probably won’t be from Keres.” He said loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. They all nodded silently, except for some 'Yes sir!' at the back.

“Detective.” A girly voice articulated behind him. He turned around, facing the woman. “We found this pasted on the forehead of the villain.”

Tsukauchi quickly dismissed the lady and focused his attention on the note:

“Hello, detective! Nice to see ya again.”  Tsukauchi clicked his tongue, already tired of reading the same opening sentence twenty times this week.

“I was walking around town when I found this dude trying to steal the purse of a poor old lady! Oh no, a tragedy! But don’t worry, Keres, your favorite vigilante was there to save the day! I restrained the guy, no biggie. I hope you take care of him nicely.

Lots of love, Keres.”

He turned around the note, he always did although he never found anything. The detective almost gasped in surprise when he found tiny handwriting on the border of the note, unreadable at plain sight. He took a magnifying glass from his pocket and put it over the text.

“Wait. You still look at the back of my notes? Damn, that’s dedication.”

I hate this child.

Izuku checked the time in his digital clock. 1:34 AM. He was way past curfew, and that only meant one thing: he had to sneak in. He tapped the side of his ear, activating the microphone.

“Mai, are you there? I’m going to need some help getting in.” Silence answered him. He cursed softly as he realized the girl had fallen asleep. 

Midoriya wandered through the silent streets of the city, taking his mask and placing it on his belt to not grab any unwanted attention. He took his hoodie off and wrapped it around his waist. The night was cold and rainy and the contact of the water against his bare arms made him shiver. He reached his destination, looked at the tall fence of the orphanage, and sighed while he started climbing it. He knew the place didn’t have any exterior cameras on this side. It wasn’t the first time he had to climb this fence, after all. Once he was over the fence, he jumped into the little balcony that led to the hallway of the second floor, just next to the boy’s rooms. You would normally share the room with other five boys of your age, but since most kids there were very young, Izuku didn’t have to share it with anybody. He quietly closed the door, trying to not alert any housemother. He jumped on his bed, grabbing the rest of his garments and sliding them under the bed.

His eyes were heavy, and he soon found himself asleep. 

The peace didn’t last much longer, because in what seemed like minutes Mai was already turning the light of his room on. The boy struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the strong yellowish light. He looked at her, and saw she was already dressed up and ready for the day.

The boy whined. “What time…?” He grunted, voice still raspy from the night before.

Mai sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s almost midday, dumb ass. Come on, you have to tell me what you did yesterday.” 

Izuku glared at Sakane. “Yeah, I have to tell you because you fell asleep. What if I had any problem getting in?”

She snickered. “Oh please Zuku, you can trespass into a place by yourself just fine. You just wanted to boast about how quickly the fight with that reptilian ended.”

Midoriya felt heat rise to his cheeks because that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

“Hey, I’m not trespassing, I live here.”

He shooed the girl away and dressed up carefully, avoiding all of the little bruises forming in his body. It wasn't like he could feel it – after all, he couldn't perceive pain from injuries – but old habits die hard.

He exited his room, and the girl was still waiting for him. They started walking down the hallway to steal some snacks from the kitchen so that Izuku wouldn’t die from exhaustion.

“Oh, by the way,” she gave him an eerie smile. “you’re on the news.”

“Really?” He said, voice unmistakably unimpressed. He didn’t usually appear on television, but he had seen a fair amount of articles about him online. As months passed he began more and more known, and his costume was now recognized very easily among villains and heroes. 

It was a fairly simple attire: a black face mask, covering his mouth. His hoodie was dark green, with clips attached on the top to avoid it from falling off while fighting. Military black pants with as many pockets he could possibly get, and on top of it a black utility belt with a ridiculous amount of tools. Thick black ankle-length boots, with metal plaques in the soles. He didn’t have to worry about villains seeing the color of his eyes since he only worked at night. When he helped the locals on the day he wore black contact lenses, that way he wouldn’t get recognized. And of course, all of his gadgets were part of the costume too. Izuku seemed pretty confident when he first started making them, but it took him months to make useful ones, and they still gave trouble from time to time.

“Turns out the villain you captured yesterday was on the priority list. There’s something interesting about the details revealed from the snake.” 

Well, that was new.

“What about it?” Izuku’s heart started beating a bit faster. He was very careful with revealing details about himself. It was fun playing a bit with the detective, but he wouldn’t have so much fun in prison.

Mai’s gaze turned serious. “Midoriya. You did it, right?” She used his last name. She was pissed.

The girl discovered he had a quirk not long after the vigilante work started, when he was carrying out one of his experiments. It was the only time Sakane had gotten mad at him, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” He tried to smile, knowing what she was about to reply.

“Absolutely not. I told you not to try it. What if you killed him, Midoriya? Did you consider that possibility?” 

She gave him her phone and checked the news. 

“Holy shit. It worked.”

Tsukauchi was about to pick up his things and head out home – thinking about how he didn’t get paid enough for this insane amount of extra hours he had to put into his damn job – when he heard a knock in his door.

“Come in.” He yelled, not looking at the person who entered his office.

“S-Sir, the villain...” The man said, panting. It looked like he came running, which alarmed the detective, making him focus his attention on him. “The villain woke up.”

Naomasa sighed. “And what’s so important about that? Just lock him up until we decide what to do with him.”

“No, sir...” The man insisted. “He says he doesn’t remember a thing about the incident. He lost his memory, sir.”

“What?"

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 3.

Notes:

I don’t like doing this, but I had to. I had to test my coagulation abilities. That sounds so weird. Turns out I can now coagulate a lot of blood at the same time, and restoring it to liquid in a few seconds. So, translated, I can create unadulterated pain and quickly stop it, shocking the enemy, but not leaving any permanent damage. Which is so fucking cool.

I have to be careful, though, because my power could accidentally maim someone easily if not controlled.

Controlling hormones is still really hard. The only thing I can somewhat control on myself is adrenaline, which is useful, but I still can’t control the hormones of other people.

If I strain my quirk I can see blue lights on people’s bodies. I only saw them once, and my nose started bleeding instantly. I have several theories on it. The blue lights that I saw went from the nose to the mouth, and deep into their chest. Might be air, and if it is, then I think it wouldn’t be considered body components anymore. It would be much more than that.

Putting my theories aside, blood manipulation inside an organism is incredibly easy now. 

I can cut off oxygen to a specific part of the subject’s body, and moderate the amount of blood that I’m pumping into each part of the body. Indirectly, I’m also moderating the amount of oxygen. If I suddenly cut off the bloodstream of the blood of the brain then I would probably kill the organism if I don’t restore the blood flow in a short amount of time. There could be permanent brain damage though. And I won’t do that. Ever. If I decrease the amount of blood flow, but I don’t totally cut it, then I could create minor problems, like dizziness, loss of coordination, and they could even faint.

Naomasa had seen this excuse before. Villains usually tried to act as they forgot about the crimes they committed, or say they were under the effects of any kind of drug or beverage. What the delinquents didn’t usually know was that they had a human lie detector in the office. So Tsukauchi, as always, had to go and interrogate the villain. 

At 3:42 AM. He would ask for a raise soon. 

The detective walked fast through the corridors of the bland office, his subordinate behind him trying to keep his pace. He arrived at one of the interrogation rooms, where the criminal was cuffed to the table, unable to move. Naomasa had always hated these rooms, they were cold and gray, but it was useful for intimidating the villains. He opened the metal door slowly, getting the attention of the reptilian.

“Hello. I am detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. I came here to ask you some questions.” He said as he sat down on the chair. He opened his file and stared at it for a moment.

“First, I’d like to ask you some simple routinary questions. Is your real name Iwakiri Kaoru?” The detective asked, reading the name on the paper.

“That’s my name” The snake-man muttered.

True.

“Are you twenty-nine years old?” The man asked, tapping his index finger lightly on the metallic table.

“No. I’m thirty-one.” He said as he shifted his position, a sign of discomfort.

True.

“So.” He made a pause. “It has come to my attention that you’re claiming you don’t remember anything about the incident. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is correct.” The villain said, staring directly into his eyes.

True.

“All right. Do you recall anything about the incident? Do you remember who captured you?” The detective insisted.

“No, I don’t remember anything. The last memory I have is getting out of a bar. Then I woke up surrounded by the police.”

True.

“What? How is that even possible? Did Keres hit him hard enough to cause amnesia? I doubt the kid has that much strength.”

“Does your head hurt?” Tsukauchi asked, praying it’s was just a heavy concussion.

“No, it doesn’t hurt at all. I felt a bit dizzy when I woke up, but now I feel fine.”

True.

Naomasa pinched his nose. “A doctor will see you in the morning.”

The detective stood up and left the villain cuffed to the table. He gave the file to one of the officers and nodded. Tsukauchi sighed as he entered his office once again and covered his face with his hands, completely in distress.

“What the fuck, Keres?”

Mai was furious. Izuku had been so irresponsible, she almost wanted to smack him for being such a dumbass. 

“Midoriya, you’re not a doctor. You don’t know to what extent can your quirk harm a person. What if he had fallen into an irreversible coma? Or had suffered permanent brain damage?”

She glared at the older teenager. When Izuku first told her about his quirk, she felt betrayed. Mai couldn’t understand why he had tried to hide such a big secret for months. But then she understood, he was exactly like her. He was scared of being called out for having a villain’s quirk. Sakane didn’t bother hiding her quirk anymore and ignored everyone’s mean stares behind her back, she had learned to live with it. But Izuku was a late bloomer and had lived the bullying of having no quirk. He was terrified of being bullied for now having one.

The boy breathed in deeply. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I think my quirk alerts me when I’m about to do something dangerous?” He spluttered, staring at his red shoes.

Sakane gaped at him. “That doesn’t make any sense. Elaborate.”

“When I was decreasing the amount of blood being pumped to the villain, my quirk felt normal. He fell unconscious almost instantly, and about thirty seconds had passed when I started feeling a pulling sensation on my chest, so I deactivated my quirk. I checked for his pulse, and he was alive and well, so I left.” He explained quickly, falling into his old habit of muttering. “I think that was my quirk alerting me that if I didn’t stop now, I would fall into the next stage. Possible brain damage, as you said.”

The girl didn’t anything for a moment, digesting everything he had said in fifteen seconds.

“Your quirk doesn’t make any sense.” She said, staring at him. “But what you did was absolutely ridiculous. You didn’t know about that aspect of your quirk before, right? Yet you still did it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, distressed.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “But everything turned alright, didn’t it? We discovered a new super useful part of my quirk…?” He stopped, under the furious gaze of his friend.

“Midoriya, your quirk breaks medicine. You can control the amount of damage you inflict on a person with the quantity of blood you transport, and even alerts you when you’re about to do something dumb? Well, at least your quirk is somewhat rational. Because you aren’t.” She turned around, not facing her best friend. The girl smiled, staring at the wall.

“He’s a complete idiot, but a lucky one.”

A soft alert sound came from Izuku’s pants. He took his phone out from one of his pockets, and he looked at the message.

insomniac666: care 2 explain why ur villain doesn’t remember shit?

Mai came near Izuku and stood up on tiptoes, trying to read the message. The vigilante pushed her to the side, grabbing the phone very close to his face, impeding her from seeing the screen.

“Don’t read my messages.” He sang. The girl whined, but turned around and continued stealing more snacks from the kitchen.

lovelykeres: you will probably sell my info to some villains and they will kill me, so no thx.

He answered instantly.

insomniac666: I’m hurt. you’re my best client I would never do that

lovelykeres: client?? I never use your services. Hell, I’m your information man. you’re so fake it almost makes me want to gag.

insomniac666: love you too bro. Are you seriously not going to tell me?

lovelykeres: nope

A reply came immediately.

insomniac666: fuck you

[ insomniac666 is offline ]

Izuku laughed out loud amused by his salty friend. Mai looked at him, confused.

“Who was that, Zuku?” Back to the nickname. She wasn’t mad anymore.

“Insomniac. I told you about him some months ago, didn’t I?” The girl nodded slowly.

Insomniac had appeared not long after Izuku had started doing some vigilante work. He was recognized as an informant more than a vigilante, but the boy was sure that he was doing very discreet vigilante work. Insomniac was primarily an informant for the police, although he also sent information out anonymously to heroes and vigilantes. Izuku had never seen him in person and never heard his voice. He knew nothing about him, only that he was male. Insomniac contacted him first through an email. How did he get his email? That’s a good question Izuku didn’t know the answer to. They exchanged phones, and after chatting for a while he discovered that they were both reckless idiots, and bonded almost instantly.

“Two peas in a pod,” Mai said when he talked about him.

They were walking back to the common room as they tried to not hit any toddlers running in the hallways. 

“Somebody once told me the world is gonna-” 

All Star started playing. Midoriya recognized the tune as his phone call tone and looked at the number on the screen.

Izuku went deathly pale. The police department was calling him, on his vigilante phone. It’s untraceable so he never bothered to hide his number from the police just in case something happened, but he had never expected to receive a call from them. Ever.

Under Mai’s concerned look, he shifted into his vigilante persona.

He picked up the call.

“Am I talking to Keres?” A manly voice asked him. He didn’t recognize it, it wasn’t the detective’s voice or any of his little disciples. 

“That’s me,” Izuku replied, not sure of what to say.

“Why can’t my brain think of replies when I need them the most, dammit.”

“You’re talking to Eraserhead. I’m collaborating with the police right now because of yesterday’s little incident. I am sure you’re aware of what happened.” 

Midoriya almost dropped his phone. Almost.

“I am talking with Eraserhead. Aizawa fucking Shouta. The underground hero.” Izuku thought, unable to process that information. His hands started to shake a bit and he tried to drown his inner fanboy.

He breathed, crying inside, and replied. “Eraserhead! Dude! Nice to meet you, I was wondering when was I going to have the pleasure of doing so.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Izuku grunted at the reply. The rumors of him being an asshole were true. “The police department has asked me to not contact you, yet here I am. You better give me something valuable, kid.”

The young vigilante snickered. “And why would I give you any information, Eraser?” He said playfully. “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t get anything from this.”

A beat.

“Oh, yes you do.” The hero snarked.

“What is it then?” Izuku chirped as he sat down on the floor and leaned on his legs. 

Eraserhead didn’t reply for a few seconds. Midoriya bit his nails nervously.

“If you don’t tell me something useful, I’ll hunt you down myself.” Aizawa bluntly replied, leaving the teen shocked.

He stared at the phone for a second. Silence.

Midoriya couldn’t stop himself and started giggling, with an uncontrollable laugh. “Really?” He managed to reply, wheezing. He made a pause, struggling to breathe properly. “Eraserhead.” He said trying not to snort.

“Bring it on then.” He hung up, not giving the opportunity of replying to the hero.

His laugh gradually ceased as the call ended and suddenly faced reality, comprehending the consequences of his words.

“Mai.” He said, processing the conversation as he looked at the ceiling.

“Huh?” She replied, turning around to face him. 

“I messed up big time now.” His mind started to become foggy.

“What do you mean? What was that call?” She whispered concerned.

Izuku opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it.

“I think Eraserhead is after me now.” He slurred. “I need a nap.” He announced as he headed into the common room and dropped himself into a couch, ignoring the girl’s questions. He closed his eyes, mind racing with possibilities.

Midoriya would miss that same day the announcement of a villain attack in Musutafu, Japan. A middle school student was involved in it and almost died due to suffocation, but was fortunately rescued by All Might. 

The middle school student was Bakugou Katsuki.

When Tsukauchi Naomasa first contacted Aizawa, he couldn’t believe what he was telling him. A child, probably a teen, was running wild fighting villains and running from cops. And no one was stopping it. If that’s not a ‘what the fuck’ moment then he didn’t know what it was. It had been months since he started breaking the law. He had started early this year, and it was already late autumn. 

He could not stress this enough. A child. Probably even younger than his first-year students.

Keres evaded the police, dealt with criminals, and had enough gadgets to stop an elephant. He didn’t know if the kid was an absolute genius or incredibly stupid. The police were absolutely oblivious too, hell, they didn’t even investigate where the kid got his gadgets from? Why did he know how to fight well enough to stop criminals from priority lists? But the police were only focused on getting his identity. If they had stopped and stared at those little details, maybe the case would have been solved long ago. Maybe he wouldn’t be here, trying to track Keres’ phone down. 

“Eraserhead, I have the medical reports on the villain that Keres captured yesterday. You should probably check them out.” The detective said as he handed him a couple of papers.

“...The patient is stable and his constants are normal. His blood pressure is low, which could have created the hypoxia after falling unconscious. […] Our team of doctors doesn’t believe this was the act of a quirk, but a medical problem that coincided with the capture.”

Aizawa plopped his head on the table.

“So the brat didn’t use a quirk. Or at least that’s what the doctors think.” He didn’t buy that. It’s too much of a coincidence, and if this job has taught him one thing is that in most cases coincidences don’t exist. 

Shouta had already decided. The child was very smart. 

Not only did he make his phone untraceable, but the phone wasn’t registered in any company, so that meant he bought it from somewhere sketchy. That freaked Aizawa out because a teen shouldn’t be involved in that type of business. Overall, the phone wasn’t useful. So he did the simplest thing he could have done at that moment. Call him.

But by the time the call is over, Shouta was enraged. He knew the sneaky vigilante had a reputation for being insufferable, but he thought he could handle it. After all, he taught a class of twenty troublesome teenagers every year, right? Well apparently, this boy was about to end his patience. The kid was treating it like a game. He sounded like he was having fun. 

“If he wants a game, I’ll give him a game in which the loser gets a penalty.”

And Shouta wasn’t going to lose.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 4.

Notes:

It’s confirmed. I can control the amount of damage I inflict can be moderated safely. Which is fantastic. After hours of crying insisting Mai to let me try my quirk on her, I could conclude that the “feeling” wasn’t a coincidence. My quirk lets me know when to stop. 

Something interesting that I noticed was that the villain fell unconscious almost instantly, but Mai was able to hold it for around ten seconds. The “feeling” came much later than when it did with the villain too. That means everyone has a limit that my quirk fortunately detects. I don’t want to know what happens if I push over that limit.

By the way, I suspect that my quirk’s main potential is based on blood. Sure, I can do some things with hormones, but for some reason, they’re always basic hormones, and for myself. It’s like a passive advantage, which is cool, but not doable in battle since it requires a lot of concentration.

I have tried straining my quirk as much as I could to find the blue lights again, but I had no luck. I’ve been moving a lot these past weeks which is, apart from physically exhausting, mentally exhausting too. My quirk has always had physical consequences, like nose bleeding or heavy headaches, but mental exhaustion also has an impact on how powerful my quirk is since it requires concentration. In theory, at least.

Months had gone by since the call and entrance exams were just around the corner, yet he hadn't seen Eraserhead, not even once, which was kind of disappointing in his opinion.

Midoriya jumped from the surrounding fence of the building as delicately as he could to not cause any unnecessary injuries. The worst thing about not feeling any pain was not being able to tell if something was wrong. 

“But I still get tired of running. So I don’t feel pain from injuries, but I do feel the rest.” He thought to himself while he landed on the next building, a bit taller than the one before. “I will have to write that in my notebook later.”

He struggled internally for weeks, pondering if he should take U.A's hero entrance exam. He finally decided against it due to some information that was leaked online. The test would be fighting against robots, and Izuku was not going to fight robots. He couldn’t. Gadgets were not allowed in the entrance exam, and his quirk only worked on, you know, living things .

“The funny thing about this.” He thought, grabbing the edge of a building to stop himself from falling. “Is that I have fought more villains than any applicant, yet I would still fail the exam.” The vigilante wondered if the school did this on purpose, and if they did, it was an unfair system. “Favoring kids with flashy quirks, huh? What a joke.” The only thing that made him apply to that school was the vast opportunities of internships that U.A offered. He also knew Eraserhead taught there, and well, that would be so much fun. 

He pushed on the concrete border, giving an impulse to land gracefully on the building. He sprinted to the other side of the building, jumping the row of little squared roofs.

He would get in through general education with no difficulties because the exam was mainly written and only had a small physical test. The vigilante knew he would get the top score in the written part, so his position would be secured. If he got the opportunity he would get into the hero course after the sports festival, but it didn’t matter as much anymore. With helping people, he was content, which was exactly what Izuku was doing as a vigilante.

The young vigilante smiled as he landed on one of his favorite buildings to watch the city from. He sat down on the floor and rested against the electricity panel box, making sure he was placing his head on a non-shockable area.

The entrance exam was only a month away, but Midoriya decided he wouldn't need any special preparation for it. He knew the education level of the school was pretty high, probably top 5 of the region, however, he felt pretty confident in his algebra, and memorizing data wouldn’t take more than a weekend studying, so he decided he would enjoy his last moments of pure liberty. Once the year started he would have to cut off a lot of his vigilante work. His middle school was pretty mediocre, there were no advanced classes and sometimes students didn't even bother to show up. The teachers didn’t care about them, so Midoriya came on exam days and presented himself, that was enough for them. Which was ridiculous , but Izuku was fine with it.

He gently closed his eyes and rolled up his sleeves to feel the breeze of the late evening on his bare arms.

“Peace, for once.” He muttered.

His peace was quickly interrupted by a sudden movement behind him. His reflexes acted for him, getting up, alarmed. He stopped, trying to hear where the sound was coming from, however, he could only hear the leaves from the trees below moving with the wind, and the voices of kids playing in the park. Izuku started to walk backward, facing the electricity panel he was using to rest his head. He took out an electrical knife from his belt, designed by Mai. Not lethal, but useful when you want to get rid of someone quickly. A cut and you’re out.

Turns out the knife was useless because the moment he took it out he felt scarves wrap around his body tightly, restraining his movement completely. Exalted, he dropped the knife to the floor.

Scarves.

“Ah, shit.” Izuku gasped out.

“Watch your fucking language, kid,” Aizawa said in a monotone tone behind him. He tightened the hold on the vigilante, and pulled the edge of his scar, turning him around. The hero was using his quirk, eyes red and hair floating.

Izuku tried to rival Eraserhead’s poker face. Not that he could see much of it anyway. He was wearing his black contacts, so he could consider himself lucky. Very lucky.

The silence was disturbing, hence Midoriya decided to break it.

“So...what now? You’re gonna call the police on me or something like that?” The boy said, holding back a snort. Aizawa glared at him. “Hey, don’t stare at me. Makes me a bit uncomfy.” The vigilante snarled.

“Shut up.” The pro-hero suddenly mouthed. “I am deciding what to do with you.” 

“Huh?” Izuku was surprised this time. What to do with him? Eraserhead was a pro-hero, not a villain. His obligation was to arrest him and send him to a police station, where he would be interrogated and forced to reveal his identity. It didn't sound like an exciting plan for him.

He looked at the hero, too shocked to say anything.

“Brat, you like games right? Let’s play a game then.” He paused. “I ask you three questions. If you answer them honestly, I will let you go scot-free.” 

“Don’t you have like...don’t know...the duty to capture me?” The boy asked sarcastically, not buying his promise. He simply wanted to dig information out of him before performing the arrest.

“I do. But I know nothing about you and that irritates me.” The pro-hero replied. “Capturing you isn’t exactly difficult, so I’d rather find information about you first so that when I decide to put you in juvie I can have enough data to back it up.” 

Izuku growled at the comment. 

“I don't believe you, but I hardly have another choice.” Midoriya sighed.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them, Aizawa pondering on what his first question was going to be.

“How old are you?” He innocently asked.

Izuku blinked at him a few times before replying. “You have the opportunity to ask me any question, and you ask me this?”

“Well, no one knows your real age, so it’s good to know for your file.”

The teen gasped loudly. “I have a file? Oh my god, that’s so cool.” He chirped, unable to contain himself. “I turned fourteen a couple of months ago.” He felt the scarves loosen up a bit around his body, making it easier to breathe. He had started his night job around the age of thirteen. Designing gadgets and perfecting his skills took most of his time, so at first, he rarely did anything significant. As he gathered more experience and skills he started to go out more, the public eventually getting to know his alter-ego: Keres. 

Eraserhead nodded and asked the next question.

“What’s your quirk?”

Izuku paused.

“Bold of you to assume I had one from the beginning.” He declared.

He saw the pro-hero’s eyebrow twitch. “I think you’re not aware of how my quirk works. Try it again.”

Midoriya clicked his tongue in exasperation, not having realized that Aizawa's quirk let him detect quirk factors.

“Fine.” He looked to the side, unable to hold Eraserhead’s gaze any longer. “You’re going to be disappointed. It’s an intelligence boosting quirk. Nothing fancy, just makes me two times smarter than you.” He said, a grin playing on his lips.

Aizawa didn’t believe him. His quirk didn't allow him to know if someone had a quirk or not, but instead of getting his real ability, he got a fake one. It was a good claim, and there’s no way he can refute it. At least he now knew that Keres wasn't quirkless, which had been a possibility before. 

“Your quirk is pretty mediocre then. Although it explains all of your absurd gadgets.” The teacher tried to taunt him, but to no avail, as he got no reaction from the boy.

He freed the kid from his scarves.

“Whoa, brave move there. What makes you think I won’t run away now?” The vigilante said, touching his arms in discomfort from the pressure of the scarfs.

“Nothing. But I know you’ll answer the last question anyway.” The pro-hero retorted. “Do your parents know about your vigilante work?”

Aizawa didn’t miss how the kid paled for a second behind the mask. 

“They don’t. It’s not like they could, anyways.” Izuku said, copying Shouta’s monotone voice.

The pro-hero looked at him with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean by that?” Aizawa quietly asked.

“Well...” The kid said, starting to walk backward, towards the edge. He turned around, not facing Shouta, and leaped onto the next building. He stared at the vigilante, waiting for an answer. 

“I thought you were smarter than this.” He smiled, turning around to face the hero. Behind that smile, a lot of emotions cross his face. Rage, sadness, guilt. "They're obviously dead, Eraser."

“You could have asked me for my real name, for the address of my house...” Izuku stopped. “But you’re like me, aren’t you?” He asked, not waiting for an answer. “You don’t stop until you solve the mystery. But the amazing Eraserhead needed a clue, so you decided to come for me, just like with that call a few months ago.” He tilted his head and gave him one last smile. “There you have it. Go and solve my mystery, Aizawa Shouta.” 

In a blink, the kid was gone.

Shouta arrived at his apartment after patrolling for five hours nonstop.

His eyelids felt heavy, and he wondered if he could finally get some rest tonight. That thought vanished after an image of Keres’ face appeared in his head. 

Aizawa remembered the faint guilt and anger in the kid’s face, raw emotions trying to keep hidden by a smile. He had heard the vigilante gasp out his last phrase, his appearance tired and battered, yet smiling in a desperate attempt to hold up his act.

When he started the three questions game, he didn’t mean to get any useful information. The kid was smart and would probably lie about every single one, but he wanted to play around a bit to see his reactions and his general ability to adapt to the situation. Although Shouta was certain that the vigilante was a reckless idiot with no sense of self-preservation, he had learned to respect him, in some way. The brat was clever and knew how to get his way, and despite being so irresponsible and annoying, he couldn’t help but smile at his dumb sticky notes. 

“Problem child.” The pro-hero muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

If one thing was clear, is that he had completely misinterpreted the teen. There were some off-putting details about him from the beginning, but he didn’t expect this.

Keres, the sneaky and irritating vigilante was just a broken child, waiting to be saved.

And for some reason, Aizawa felt the need to be his hero.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 5.

Notes:

I don’t talk about this. In real life or this notebook. But I’ll try to put little to no detail.

When my quirk first manifested, it created some wounds. Some wounds that I never got to create again. My cuts are long, shaped like a short knife. But those wounds were different, they were round and profound. I wonder if I can adjust the shape of the injuries. I don’t want to try it out yet. I also promised Mai that I wouldn’t injure myself for experiments, so that’s something I will have to test out in the future. I’ve also noticed that I can close open wounds, no matter the type, but I can’t repair a broken leg. I can control the injury as long as it’s bleeding which makes me think, if a person is bleeding internally, would I be able to see it and fix it?

Update on the blue lights: they’re back and it wasn’t my imagination. They hurt a lot when I try to control them. But I can see them now without fainting after, so that’s nice progress. I’m still fixated on the theory that it indicates oxygen or air. If that’s the case then I wouldn’t have to rely on blood to incapacitate someone, and instead, I could pull the oxygen from their bodies, just like I can do with blood. Reducing the blood pressure is far more complicated in mid-battle than pulling blood out, so if my theories are correct, pulling out air would be really easy and a huge advantage. I wouldn’t need so much concentration to bring down a villain fast, and I could probably not end up with nosebleeds every single time. 

As much as I’ve been trying, hormones are only meant to be controlled in my body. It’s maybe a side effect of my quirk, like not feeling any pain from injuries. And they are meant to be controlled, not produced, like everything in my quirk. So I can’t ask my body to produce more adrenaline just because I want to, just as I can’t ask my body to produce more blood. I can control it to reduce or augment it on a specific moment, but based on the adrenaline that I have already. That’s why I can’t grow just because I feel like it. Which is sad by the way.

I think I’m finally figuring my quirk out.

The entrance exams were just in a few days when Izuku woke up in the middle of the night and remembered something.

He was legally quirkless.

What he told Eraserhead about his quirk was for him to be able to enter U.A with no risk of showing his ability and being immediately busted by the pro-hero. That meant he had to register it, so the next morning he woke up and got ready to fill out his quirk form. As the government didn’t have a specific location for registrations in the area, there was usually a small department in each police station dedicated to quirk problems or registrations. Midoriya woke up fairly early that day, so he was for once able to eat breakfast in the dining hall with the rest of the kids. 

“Mai.” He spoke, mouth full of cereal. The girl looked at him and said nothing, but she was paying attention so he continued. “I’m gonna register my quirk today,” Izuku said, loudly enough for one of the housemothers to hear him. The woman turned whipped her head, gawking at him. 

“What do you mean register your quirk?” The old lady said. “Midoriya, you don’t have a quirk.” 

He tried to put his most surprised and resented face. “Oh! I completely forgot to tell you. The other day I accidentally cut myself with a piece of glass and the injury closed instantly. I played around a bit with it and I realized I got my quirk!” He chirped. “It’s some kind of healing ability related to blood.” That was the fakest and quickest bad lie he had ever created, but he knows the lady is an idiot, she’ll buy it.

Her face suddenly lit up and Izuku felt a pang of guilty about it. Mai glared at him across the table. 

“Oh, Midoriya that’s wonderful!” She said. “If you’re going to register it you’ll need a paper signed by one of your tutors, I can do it if you’d like.”

“That would be fantastic Amagawa-san.” The vigilante said, rolling his eyes once she went away. The woman was back in a few minutes with a paper signed by her, authorizing Izuku to fill out his quirk form.

He was preparing to leave when Sakane approached him.

“You’re a dirty liar.” She said as she crossed her arms in disapproval. 

“It’s all for the greater good Mai.” He said as he opened the door. “All for the greater good.” He winked and closed it, leaving an upset Mai in the orphanage.

Izuku arrived at the police station after a long twenty-minute walk. Being in such a poor and run-down area, the closest police station was fifteen minutes from the orphanage, but he went to one a bit further away, to try and see his favorite detective.

The kid opened the door of the police station and was faced with a relatively peaceful environment, but no signs of Tsukauchi.

“Oh, hello. What are you here for?” A police officer with electric blue eyes said, capturing his attention. “Are you lost?”

Izuku flushed.

“I know I look young, but really?” He thought to himself. “Uh, no. I’m here to register my quirk. My tutor couldn’t come with me but I have a paper signed by her. Is that enough?” He knew it was enough, but he asked anyway.

“A late bloomer?” The officer chuckled. Izuku wanted to punch the guy, but he contained himself. “But yes, kid, it’s more than enough. I will call my colleague, she is in charge of that department. Be good, okay?” The officer left, giving Midoriya time to investigate a bit.

Big mistake.

The vigilante looked to his sides. Two possible entrances, one from the main street, and another one from the place the blue-eyed man had just left. It was Saturday, early in the morning. The officer in charge of the quirks department would be having breakfast, and she would finish it before attending him, an insignificant teenager trying to register his quirk. He was with no grown-ups, so that meant they didn’t have to deal with angry parents. He looked around once more, searching for cameras. None.

He rolled his eyes. This was what quirks had done to people. They thought that their abilities would take care of everything, and that nothing would go wrong because people were scared of authority figures. Unfortunately for them, trouble came in all shapes and sizes. 

Izuku sighed. Five minutes. He would give himself five minutes.

He approached the computer and entered the police’s database. A screen popped-up, asking him for the password. He bit his lip, looking around the desk. He found nothing useful so he took a pen-drive from his pocket. He inserted it on the USB port and opened the software. He had bought this magic trick from a sketchy dude who was in contact with Insomniac. It was an application that sent a sophisticated brute force attack, cracking the possible passwords and inputting them automatically into the log-in of the database until one was the correct key. Izuku's programming skills were alright, but he didn't know how to hack, which was more up Insomniac's alley. It was a useful skill that he would have to learn at some point, though. 

In a matter of seconds, he had access to the police database. He paused and listened for possible conversations or steps. Nothing. He searched for his file with shaky hands and copied it in his pen-drive. The boy also searched for Insomniac, finding a file on him too. He heard steps approaching as he closed the database and launched the second software, eliminating any trace of him being on the computer. He ejected the pen-drive and got back into position.

Midoriya gulped loudly as the two officers opened the door.

The woman approached him.

“She smells like coffee.” He turned around and looked at her silvery eyes, faking a smile. “Hello! I’m Midoriya Izuku.” The vigilante said as loud and brightly as possible. 

“I’m officer Katagiri. Nice to meet you Midoriya.” She replied as her co-worker left the room. “How about we go to a vacant room so you can describe your quirk properly?”

She guided him through the second door, into one of the separate rooms. Izuku looked around, trying to find any sign of the detective, but he didn’t see anything. She closed the door of the warm wooden space. 

The officer smiled at him. “So, could you tell me the name of your quirk?” 

“It’s called Biocide.” He replied in a beat.

The woman looked at him. “Biocide, huh? That’s an interesting name. Could you describe your quirk for me?”

Midoriya took in some air and started explaining her. “I can control blood in someone’s body. For example, I can close wounds, using platelets. Or move blood inside the organism.” He gently omitted to be able to render someone useless moving blood, or creating wounds at free will. “However, it doesn’t allow me to produce blood or more platelets. I’m just using what that organism has.”

The officer nodded. “That’s a very interesting quirk you have there Midoriya. Does your quirk have any side effects from overuse?”

“Yes.” He acknowledged. “If I use my quirk for too long I get a headache and my nose starts bleeding.” 

The lady nodded again. “Okay. Lastly, does this quirk give you any particular physical ability?”

“Oh. Yes, it does.” He muttered. “I don’t feel any pain from injuries. I do feel pain from a stomach ache, but I don’t feel anything if I’m tearing a muscle. Physical exercise doesn’t affect me a lot either.

“So you have high-pain tolerance?” She questioned, confused. 

“No, I don’t feel pain. It’s more like someone brushing a feather against my leg.” He looked at her astonished face. “It can’t be that weird, it’s a hassle but I’ll deal with it.”

The officer tilted her face, unconvinced. “Midoriya, be careful with your quirk. It’s certainly a really impressive one, but it can get you in a lot of trouble.” She replied as she placed her pen on the table.

“I will, thank you.” The vigilante said as he stood up, recognizing the dismissal. He lightly bowed and the officer escorted him to the exit. He looked around for Tsukauchi and saw his favorite detective getting a snack from the vending machine. Izuku didn’t bat an eye, and neither did Naomasa, completely ignoring him.

“If he knew.” Izuku thought cheekily, biting his tongue to hold back a snort.

“It was nice meeting you Midoriya. Be careful, okay?”

The kid nodded enthusiastically and waved at her. He closed the door carefully and left.

“That’s one lucky child. He’ll have to be careful with his quirk, but he seems smart.” She thought to herself, opening the door to the office.

“Who was that? Seems a bit too old to be getting his quirk.” The detective asked, taking a bite of his cereal bar.

She looked at the door. “Oh, that? His name is Midoriya Izuku. A late bloomer.”

Tsukauchi’s eyes broadened as he took another bite. “I remember him, the kid lost his mother due to an odd incident some years ago. I was in charge of the case.”

The officer stared at him. “Strange incident?”

The detective threw the plastic into the trash. “Yeah. When he woke up from a nap his mother was in a pool of blood and had some injuries across her body. She died from blood loss. We never knew who was the culprit.” He said, leaving Katagiri unsatisfied. “Sorry, I can’t tell you more. The details are classified, but Midoriya had to go through an extensive amount of therapy.”

She sighed. “It’s okay, I understand. At least he has a quirk now, so they can’t bully the poor child for that.” The detective nodded in agreement.

“So, what’s his quirk? I’m interested.” He said as he leaned on one of the desks.

The woman smiled. “It’s name is Biocide.”

Shinsou was studying when his phone’s screen lit up, showing a message from Keres.

“Ugh, Keres.” He thought as he rolled his eyes. “Where was that dude? I thought he was dead or something.”

He didn’t think the irritating vigilante was dead. If he was, he would have been notified even before the police, so the teen was fine, he was probably getting himself in trouble.

The usual.

He opened the app and entered into his chat with Keres.

lovelykeres: care 2 explain why the police know more about u than I do?

“Is he mocking my text from the other day? Asshole.”

insomniac66: oh pleaase the police know nothing about me. Exactly like you, no special treatments

lovelykeres: are you sure about that, you purple-haired brat?

Hitoshi’s breathing stopped. 

Insomniac66: what the fuck keres?

lovelykeres: newsflash!! you’re not that invisible. I may or may not have hacked into the police database and stole both of our files. I will send it to you later buddy

lovelykeres: nothing relevant apart from that, so don’t worry. But be more careful next time oki?

He gaped at his phone.

“Did he say he hacked into the police’s database?”  

insomniac66: wait. YOU HACKED INTO THE POLICE’S DATABASE?

lovelykeres: YEAH DUDE IT WAS ABSOLUTELY INSANE I FELT LIKE A SPY

Hitoshi’s jaw hit the floor. The boy had told him long ago that he didn’t know how to hack, and only investigated on how to get into security cameras, which was already really useful. He had bought a pen-drive from one of his informants’ businesses, as well as the phones, but Shinsou’s work was more about staying inside. On the other hand, Keres didn’t care where or when did he have to do something and was always impeccable in his work. Keres would use the pen drive more than him.

lovelykeres: that being said, I am never doing it again. I had to go to the police station today anyways and decided to get a souvenir if u know what im saying

Shinsou snorted.

insomniac66: you’re ridiculous, you know that right?

The reply, as always, came in a second.

lovelykeres: of course I know, it’s one of my best traits. I’ll send u the file later, gotta go cram.

insomniac66: all right, good luck

[ lovelykeres is offline ]

Shinsou threw his phone onto his bed. Keres’ last message came to his mind. The teen was studying, so that meant he was probably going to present himself to an entrance exam as well, probably a difficult one if the idiot was actually trying.

A vague idea crossed his mind, laughing at the possibility of both of them applying to the same school. 

With that last thought in mind, he continued studying, and so did Izuku.

After all, the entrance exams were in two days.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 6.

Notes:

I managed to control the blue lights! Of course, I got a nosebleed after controlling them, but it’s a step. The lights turn more and more colorful every time I use my quirk.

I’ve noticed something weird. When looking at a person with my quirk activated, I sometimes see accumulations of lights. Sometimes it’s around the heart, sometimes around the brain. It doesn’t happen always, and mostly when I’m fighting villains. And they’re usually hormone accumulations, but sometimes there can be blood accumulations too. It means something, but I’m clueless about what it is.

I’ve been passively training my quirk a lot these past few days. I hope it’s useful eventually.

Midoriya gaped at the immense gates of U.A high school. He saw other students getting inside, not surprised by the architecture of the place. After all, this was his first time seeing the school in person whereas most of the students here probably went to the exam simulation a couple of months ago, and the rest, like him, stared at the door a couple of seconds before entering the area. General education and hero entrance exams were held the same day but at different times. In the morning, hero entrances were held, and in the afternoon it was the turn of general education exams. The reason behind this was that hero-course applicants could take the other exam too just in case. Izuku, of course, knew that this was because the exam was completely unfair, and most people were doomed to fail. 

He was bitter about it, so he didn’t take the hero course test. Instead, he was going to general education, which he was already late for. He opened U.A’s website, looking for the room he was supposed to go. The vigilante arrived at yet another gigantic door, accompanied by some students who were running late too. He tried finding his seat as quickly as he could, and found an exam already in his desk, turned around. 

He wasn’t allowed to bring anything with him, but he took his jacket because April wasn’t exactly a warm month. He placed it on the wardrobe at the entrance and swiftly got back to his seat. He scanned the room and only saw panicking teenagers, their terrified looks fixated on the big red led sign in front of them that spelled 'please wait'. He huffed and rested his back on the chair, closing his eyes. 

Midoriya wasn’t sure what the physical exam was about. The leaks online weren’t descriptive, but it didn’t seem like you needed a quirk to pass it. There were some theories on battles by teams, but Izuku didn’t believe those. A loud voice alarmed him, opening his eyes. Present Mic with his cheerful personality announced that they could start their exams.

He flipped his exam and briefly looked at all of the questions. Izuku smiled.

The exam was three hours long, but the vigilante was out in half the time. Present Mic showed some concern, encouraging the student to at least double-check, but he had checked three times, so he thanked the pro-hero and left the room. He had some time to kill, so he waited in the lounge area and bought a snack from a vending machine.

He was munching his chocolate bar when the door opened.

“Someone finished already? It’s been five minutes since I’ve left.”

But it wasn’t a student.

“Should you be here, kid? Aren’t you supposed to be doing an exam?” Aizawa challenged, his impassive eyes digging into the boy. 

Izuku gulped his chocolate bar, almost choking.

“I’ve already finished the exam, sir.” He returned taking another bite, trying to sound polite as his head raced with snarky comments.

The teen sat on the brown couch on the side of the room to stop his legs from shaking . He placed his juice on the coffee table next to him.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “The general education exam? The three-hour-long one?”

The vigilante tilted his head. “It’s the only one being held right now, so your question is unnecessary. Why did you come here?” His comment came come off as bratty, but Eraserhead accepted it.

“I ask the questions here.” He stated as he approached the couch. “Do you have an intelligence quirk? Finishing the exam in half of the time is quite the feat.” If he wasn’t behind that ugly black jumpsuit, he would have seen the man smirk.

Midoriya’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to control his reaction. Did he recognize his voice? That comment was certainly not a coincidence, Midoriya dully noted. He was trying to link him to his alter-ego.

“Nope. It’s just how my brain works.” He beamed while he rubbed his sweaty palms against the sofa, but the pro-hero didn’t notice.

Shouta sighed deeply. “I came here for a nap, but now I have to deal with a brat. Lucky me.” He spoke into the air, abruptly. 

“So, why general education?” He proceeded. “Did you try out the hero exam and didn’t work out for you?” The older man sits on the couch in front of him.

He was trying to establish a conversation, which only meant that he was trying to get information out of him. Izuku couldn't help but feel anxious at the thought.

“Nope, this is the only exam I’m taking.” The teen answered, briefly closing his eyes and resting his head against the couch, trying to relax his rigid posture.

“Not interested in becoming a hero?” The man retorted with a cold voice, fixating his eyes on the kid in front of him.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I want to help people.” Midoriya said as he copied Shouta’s tone. He couldn't lie right now, not if the chances of him becoming his teacher in the future were high. If he told Aizawa that he had no interest in becoming a hero the teacher would only be suspicious of him when he applied to the hero-course after the sports festival.

Eraserhead furrowed his brows.

“And you didn’t present yourself to the hero course exam?”

“The exam is unfair.” He rumbled. “Robots. If your quirk only works on living things, what are you supposed to do? Bring down the rest of the examinees so they don’t get any points?” He ranted sarcastically.

The pro-hero looked to his side, at the door. Midoriya stared at him, trying to find something that would indicate what he was thinking about.

“You’re not wrong, kid.” He lamented. “But how did you know the exam was fighting robots?”

Izuku grinned. “Oh please, it’s hardly a state secret.” He barked out, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

Aizawa looked at him for a few seconds, silence filling the room. He narrowed his eyes once again and stood up.

“I’m going to see if there’s any place in which I can nap comfortably. I want you to know something, Midoriya.” He turned around and looked at him. 

He hadn't told him his name.

“I will be watching the physical test. Do not disappoint me.” Aizawa started walking towards the door as he yawned, and exited the room, leaving a somewhat perplexed Izuku behind.

Aizawa knew his name, so he had checked his file. It was obvious that the pro-hero was trying to find all of the teenagers in the area that would fit Keres' description: short, curly hair, dark eyes and hair, parents not in the picture, intelligent and physically capable of handling themselves in a fight. It was obvious that he fit in perfectly with it, and that he was now going to be the main suspect of the investigation. The physical test would give Aizawa the next clue, as he was certainly capable of defeating a teenager with no previous experience in combat.

He threw the 'intelligence quirk' comment to get a reaction out of him. A normal kid would have been flattered at the remark, but Keres would have acted nervous, sweaty palms and sarcastic comments. And that was exactly what Midoriya had done.

He wanted to punch himself for being so dense. It was obvious that the conversation had been a discrete interrogation, that would now put him in Aizawa's mental list of children who could potentially be the vigilante.

Students were already coming in, so he stopped drowning himself and drank his juice angrily. 

The police didn't know how Keres fought, he had seen his file. However, he needed to be careful from now on. It was too early for him to be identified. He wouldn't fight dirty in front of any teacher, he would simply stick to his combination of martial arts. He would pass as an intelligent student who just happened to fight very well, or at least he would try. He'd considered the option of fighting terribly in this exam, but that would only handicap him in the future, and it was hard to fake inadequate movements. 

Izuku’s conversation with Eraserhead must have lasted more than he thought because in less than 30 minutes he and another kid were called into a room across the hallway. They entered finding an area full of judo mattresses and a fighting zone, delimited by blue tape. There were two pro-heroes, Eraserhead and Midnight. 

“Hello, examinees!” The woman chirped, putting a hand on her hip. “Welcome to your physical exam. I’ll briefly explain what you’ll be tested on.” 

“First of all, you’ll have a basic physical test. We want to know in what state your body is, no quirks allowed. Then, you’ll show us how your quirk works, and you’ll use it on us if applicable. If not, we have several options available.” She winked. Izuku knew he had a bewildered face at that moment because, although he respected Midnight sometimes he couldn't read her. He thought it was part of her charm too. “Lastly, you’ll fight each other quirkless to see your general fight abilities. This is general education, so don’t worry if you’re not a martial arts master. However, if you do want to enter the hero course eventually, winning the fight will be positive for your future.” He felt the boy next to him composing himself. Izuku felt a pang of pity for him.

“Ready? Midoriya, you’ll be tested by Eraserhead. I’ll be in charge of you.” She pointed at the blond-haired teen with a smirk.

He probably even asked to test him himself, he bitterly thought as he peeled a hangnail that was hurting his finger. 

The teen approached the pro-hero with a dry face, mimicking him.

“First, you’re going to do the physical part, only a few of them since we have a lot more people to attend. You’ll start with the 50 meter-dash. Get in position.”

Izuku did as he was told. When he heard the beep of Shouta’s stopwatch he ran as fast as he could. It wasn't time to hold back. A few seconds later he heard a second beep. 

“6.32 seconds.” He heard Aizawa mutter. Midoriya knew his score was notably good. He was always top of his class in all of the physical apprehension tests, which wasn’t a shock due to his vigilante work. 

Eraserhead gave him a hand-grip dynamometer for the weight test. He told him to grip it with the right hand, and a few moments later he got his results. Aizawa took it.

“60kg. I bet you don’t even weigh that much.” The pro-hero sighed and Midoriya chuckled, covering his smile with a hand.

He guided him to the next one, standing long jump. Fortunately, jumping buildings made this test easy. Aizawa measured the distance with a troubled frown. The vigilante couldn’t see the result of this one, blocked by Eraser’s shoulder, but he would bet it was a delightful result.

“Lastly, the ball throw. You know the rules.” He gave him an odd heavy ball, with some kind of software to estimate the distance. He threw it as far as he could. 

Aizawa looked at his phone. “94 meters.” Midoriya felt reasonably content with those numbers. They were higher than the ones he used to get at middle school.

“Okay kid, come with me.” He followed the pro-hero to a set of mattresses. “Your quirk is related to blood. I want to see it in action.”

Izuku pondered for a moment about what he should do. Next to him, there was a table full of weapons and materials. He took a sharp knife. “Sure, but this will be messy."

“Don’t care, just show me as long as you don’t hurt yourself.” The pro-hero said as he sat on a chair.

“I won’t hurt myself, but you will freak out anyways.” The boy said as the pro-hero threw a confused gaze at him.

Izuku took the knife carefully and touched the edge. He pressed it in his arm, and cut across his skin, making a vertical incision from the beginning of his wrist to his elbow, vibrant red blood pouring from his arm and falling to the ground in small droplets. He didn’t want to bleed to death so he activated his quirk, slowly closing the wound and leaving no trace of it ever being there.

He looked up and saw a disturbed Eraserhead. Midnight had also stopped assessing the other kid.

She approached him with light steps. “Midoriya, are you okay? You didn’t have to make that big of a cut! That was completely unnecessary.” She reprimanded.

“Huh? I’m okay, really. I don’t feel any pain.” He replied doing calming motions with his hands, trying to reassure the two pro-heroes.

Aizawa stood up. “You don’t feel pain?”

Midoriya stared at him. “Yeah, didn’t you read my quirk notes?”

The teacher sighed. “No, in the document only appears the name of your quirk and the general powers.” Shouta turned to his co-worker. “He’s okay Nemuri. Let me deal with him.” She sent a concerned look to Izuku as she went to resume the other boy's assessment.

“So.” He looked at the kid. “Care to explain?”

The vigilante tried to hold back a snort, amused by the strain of his future teacher. He didn't know why he was so concerned about him. He'd already told him that he hadn't felt anything.

“I don’t feel pain from injuries. It’s a side effect of my quirk and I can close any open wound, so it’s fine.” He babbled. “I told you it would be messy.” The boy muttered.

“I’m just going to forget this happened for a minute, kid. There’s another part of your quirk, moving blood inside someone? That’s not particularly precise.”

“It’s exactly how it sounds. I can alter the state of blood and move it at free will.” He returned in a beat.

“Use it on me.” The pro-hero stated.

Midoriya shook his head instantly, trying not to display any of the anxiety accumulating in his chest due to the request. “No.”

Aizawa stared at the kid for a few seconds and looked at the green-head’s scars, littered all over his freckled face. “Midoriya, I don’t care if it hurts. If you can fix it later, then use it on me.”

Izuku closed his eyes for a second. “Okay. But you will be on the floor in seconds, so please sit down.” The pro-hero arched an eyebrow at the comment but did it anyway.

Coagulation was the most logical choice in this situation. Moving his blood would make him drop unconscious, and he had many people to assess. He didn't want to do it, though. Coagulation was something he seldom used in his patrols, only for the most critical criminals, the ones who were trying to hurt people. Cutting blood flow was less messy and better in the long run, but it was challenging to do in battle. It ended the fight, and the crime was stopped. Coagulation just caused pain, but it was easier to do. It was almost laughable, how his ability urged him to harm.

“Sorry.” He whispered as he activated his quirk. Aizawa’s lights inundated his eyes. He watched as the state of blood in his arm gradually curdled, barely doing any effort himself. He also saw the pro-hero's face, shifting from curiosity to confusion, from confusion, to agony. He saw him grabbing his arm, unsure of what was happening, and knew the exact moment in which the blood had fully clotted the area. It burned and grabbed his insides, like a knife cutting through his skin, or so he was told. He had tried it on himself, but he had never felt any discomfort.

A grunt of pain escaped the lips of his teacher as Midoriya put his blood to its original state. He kept his quirk activated, watching his teacher's red lights traveling safely across his frame. It tried to serve as a reassurance that he had done nothing wrong, but the image of his teacher's face, straining from the pain that he had caused, was already engraved in his brain. He was supposed to be better, yet he had harmed someone that didn't need to be hurt. It wasn't like the excuses he used when fighting villains. It was different.

Disappointing would be the word. Years desiring a quirk to do good, yet he could only harm with it. He was an entertainment for fate. 

Midoriya hadn't noticed his breath quickening, palms sweating as scarce droplets of blood made their way to his lips. The lights of the room were too bright, the noises of his teacher recovering too loud on his ears. His vision was disfigured, black patches clouding his eyes.

He was no longer in U.A. He was with his mother, and he was six again. The poisonous words that she once told him came to his mind. 

“You’ve ruined the family. I was wondering what quirk you would get, and I hoped it was mine because all your father does is destroy and harm .” She sat down, not looking at her six-year-old son, and laughed maliciously. “But you didn’t even get a quirk. You’re truly a disappointment .” The woman glared at the child, only causing him to cry even harder.

“Izuku, stop crying.” She sighed. “Just accept it my darling .” 

“You’re useless.”

Izuku snapped back to reality, small tears coming out from his dull green eyes. He could feel his chest going up and down, his lungs quickly trying to gather the oxygen that he was depriving them of. He could no longer sense his fingers, only his nails digging into the palm of his hands, making small wounds that didn't even burn. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry–" Midoriya stammered. His apology was cut short by two strong hands being placed on his shoulders. He tried not to flinch as he stared at his teacher, eyes devoid of emotion. 

Shouta sighed, mostly out of guilt. “That’s a great quirk. It's my fault for making you do something that you were uncomfortable with.” He paused and looked to the side, making sure his colleague wasn't looking. “Besides, it didn’t hurt too much.” He joked, receiving a small trembling smile from the teenager. “Get ahold of yourself, you have a fight to win now.” He patted Midoriya’s back and stepped away, leaving the kid a moment to recompose himself. "Do you need any water?"

The vigilante looked at him, shaking his head, spirit momentarily repaired. He wiped at his face, blood and tears mixing in together. The teacher snorted, giving him a towel to clean himself up. "It's okay to freak out, Midoriya. It's a powerful quirk. One that can harm, yes," He glanced at his future student. "but that can also do so much good. Let yourself be the one who defines your quirk, kid."

Izuku logically knew that the teacher's advice would only have so much effect on him. He'd probably go through today just fine, the words still fresh inside his brain. Then, he would start overthinking. He would remember the pain he caused and his mother would come back to scream at him once again.  

He took a bite of the chocolate bar the teacher had offered him at some point, hands still shaking. The other boy hadn't finished his examination yet, so the two of them patiently waited, allowing Midoriya to recover. His body was weak from panicking, but he had to fight. 

The teen slowly walked towards the sparring field. He softly cracked his neck to the sides and started stretching out. He wasn't worried about this fight. After all, sparring was his best weapon. 

“The rules are simple.” Eraserhead started when the other teen arrived to the area. “If you get out of the blue line, you’re out. If one of you can no longer move, the fight is over, and you’re out.”

He stared for a second at Izuku. He stared back, drowning his thoughts at the back of his mind.

“You may start now.”

The blond kid made the first move, inexperienced. The moment his opponent tried to throw the initial punch he stepped back and grabbed his fist, striding forward with brute force, making the blond fall into the ground. He blocked his arms and legs, and the teen was out. The fight doesn’t last more than 10 seconds.

It was somewhat ironic, because it was the same technique a villain used against him months ago. The same villain that started all of this.

He guessed he could be good for something, then. He learned from his mistakes. 

“Midoriya wins. That’s the end of the test, thank you for coming!” Midnight chirped, ending everything quickly. The mentioned boy let out a shaky sigh as he helped the kid get back up. 

The other examinee had already left and he was about to leave too when an arm blocked his path. 

“Actually, Nemuri. I would like to keep the kid.” Eraserhead announced, bored.

Izuku panicked. What was he thinking?

“Why?” She inquired as she took a sip of her iced tea.

“He was paired up against an opponent who doesn’t know how to fight, so we can’t evaluate him properly. Midoriya told me that he would be interested in moving to the hero course eventually, so I want him here fighting whoever wins of the pairs until he loses. He has technique, so it would be absurd to not see his full potential.” He explained, deadpanning. 

“What?” Izuku finally lets out. He didn't have the strength for what, another twenty fights?

Aizawa looked at him, half-smirking. “What, got anywhere to be at?” 

The vigilante clenched his jaw and tried to smile. “No, of course not. I would be delighted to fight some more.” He retorted sarcastically.

“Wonderful.” Shouta replied. "You'll have plenty of time to recover between each fight and you can get snacks from the vending machine, so don't worry about that ."

The teen understood the reference, gently nodding at the teacher. He presumably wanted to keep an eye on him and make sure that he was well before sending him home. That, and the fact that he wanted to gather more evidence. Izuku was inclined to believe the second one. 

“Nemuri, bring in another pair please.” He exclaimed, looking at the woman.

Aizawa turned to the boy. “Midoriya, sit there, I will call you when I need you. If you want to come around and watch the other apprehension tests you can, but don’t be a nuisance.”

Izuku frowned. “You’re the one who’s forcing me to say here, so from now on I’m the actual pest."

Eraserhead huffed and ignored the vigilante as two more participants came in.

By the time the day was over, Izuku had fought over twenty contestants and hadn't lost a single fight. There were people who had technique, and he could have lost on purpose, but he was sure Aizawa would have called him out for it. He was also a bit petulant at Eraserhead for making him fight everyone, so he decided to win every single battle out of spite.

Nemuri looked at him. “Midoriya, you’re amazing, but aren’t you tired?” She asked, a concerned smile on her lips.

“Yeah, I am.” He panted. “I could drop dead right here.” The woman laughed at the comment as the other pro-hero approached them. 

“Midoriya, you can go now. It’s late, so be careful.” He said condescendingly. 

The kid scoffed at that, and waved them goodbye, too tired to say anything. When the door closed, Midnight whipped her head towards her colleague, raising an eyebrow. 

“Playing favorites? It’s the first time I’ve seen you do that.” She laughed. “Midoriya is a nice kid, don’t corrupt him.”

He frowned at that comment. “I am not playing favorites. The kid was useful in the end.”

“Yeah sure. Just don’t make it too obvious when the school year starts.” The hero waved goodbye at him, the man nodding in return.

“This kid is surely something.”

He remembered the teen’s fake smile as he left the school.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 7.

Notes:

I still feel guilty about what happened with Eraserhead. Maybe U.A won’t accept me for having a dangerous quirk, and I would understand it. I wouldn’t accept myself either.  

I wish I didn’t have to use my quirk that early. From now on, I’ll use it passively, to heal injuries. No more causing pain to anyone. 

Everything my quirk does is hurtful. Maybe all of the pain I don’t feel is in my quirk, to damage others.

I really wish I could feel pain sometimes.

Izuku had not slept for three days after the entrance exam. When he arrived to the orphanage the little speech that Aizawa said had vanished, and he was left blank, having to deal with his self-hatred thoughts.

He broke down in his room, alone. Midoriya wasn’t used to crying, although he used to do it a lot when he was younger. Bullies usually took advantage of that, calling him a crybaby, so he stopped crying too. He thought that maybe, if he didn’t cry, bullies would leave him alone but it didn’t work out. Izuku turned into their puppet, tossed and thrown whenever they wanted. He still felt like that sometimes. Keres wasn’t invincible, he was a human too, and if he was in the middle of a fight and had to retreat from exhaustion, or from sustaining too many injuries, he would feel useless. Beaten up, like a puppet again.

Midoriya hated that. The vigilante was supposed to be his stronger self, yet he would still sometimes lose. His ‘best’ wasn’t enough.

“Izuku, did someone hit you again?” His mother asked, no concern in her voice when his son arrived home with his arms full of bruises and cuts in his legs.

“Serves you right .” The woman said as she took a puff from her cigarette. Izuku hadn’t noticed when her addiction began, but she never stopped smoking. “You only cause trouble.” The seven-year old boy stomped to his room.

He eventually started crying quietly in his room, stifling his sobs with a pillow to not upset her.

Izuku spent the following days trying to hide his mental state. Mai tried talking to him about it, but he quickly brushed her off, insisting on saying he was totally fine . She left him alone, knowing that the acceptance letter was the only thing that would help Midoriya. Sakane wasn’t used to seeing her friend like this. She knew he had some issues, by the way he always hid in his vigilante persona, his witty jokes and fake smiles, but the boy had deeper problems that Mai couldn’t understand. 

On the fourth day, the letter came. The girl was the first to see it as she was in change of getting the mail that day. She was unsure of how to handle it because of her friend’s fragile state. Sakane approached the boy’s room, and knocked.

The door opened a few seconds later, and she realized he was probably sitting against it. The first thing she girl saw Izuku’s pale skin.

“Did you eat anything today?” She said softly, hiding the letter behind her back. “I brought you some snacks, If you want them.” She places them on his bedside table. 

He looked at her eyes for a moment, and then at her hands. Midoriya cleared his voice. “The letter. 

Sakane sighed. “Of course he has seen it.” She handed it to him, and waited. The older teen looked at her for a moment, deciding if he should kick her out or not. He finally decided against it, as she was going to find out eventually anyways.

He opened the letter carefully, and read it.

“...We are pleased to inform you that U.A will be willing to offer you a position as a general education student in this upcoming year. You ended up with the highest mark of your group and from the general department as well. 

We’ve assigned you class 1-C, for more details on the confirmation, uniforms and timetables please look at the docum-”

Izuku stopped reading the paper as tears formed in his eyes, blinding his vision. Mai looked over the paper and read the first sentence as she beamed. She squeezed the boy, hard enough for him to start to cough. She giggled into his shoulder.

“That’s right, Zuku. You’re going to become a hero.” She whispered.

Midoriya hugged the girl back tightly, and tears began to fall from his eyes silently.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“Hey, you! The one with purple hair!” Shinsou turned around, trying to look for the overly cheerful voice that was calling for him. A green-haired kid was running in his direction. 

“Isn’t running on the hallways prohibited?”

“Hello!” He panted, grabbing his knees from exhaustion. “Do you happen to know where class 1-C is?”

“So he’s my classmate?” He stared at his green eyes. “Doesn’t seem like much to me.”

“Why would I know? I’m a first year too.” He retorted with a bored voice, frowning.

The teen clicked his tongue. “Ah, right. At least we can find it together? I’m Midoriya Izuku!” He chirped as he offered his hand.

“This boy is going to give me a headache.”

“Sure.” He replied. “Shinsou Hitoshi.” He took his cold palm and shook it.

“Ah, nice to meet you Shinsou.” He replied with a more neutral tone. “I guess fighting robots isn’t your forte then.” The kid blurted out completely randomly.

The purple-head looked at his classmate surprised.

“Why’re you assuming I took the hero entrance exam? Maybe I only wanted to be a general education student.” He crossed his arms defensively.

“It’s an educated guess.” His classmates replied, looking at the class signs. “Besides, almost no one wants to enter general education. What’s the purpose of it? Hold the students who were okay but not good enough for the hero course?” Midoriya explained. 

Shinsou furrowed his brows. “I can assume you’re not very efficient against robots either.”

The green-head laughed. “No, not really. But I didn’t take the entrance exam.” He paused. “Oh, there’s our class!”

Hitoshi freezed. “How did he know what the entrance exam was about then…?” He shook his head. “It was probably leaked somehow. Maybe I should have checked it too.”

He felt a hand pull of his uniform sleeve. They both entered their class and found out they were one of the lasts to arrive, as they tried to find some seats. Two at the back were unoccupied, next to the window and in the middle. They both looked at eachother and Izuku smirked, running to the seat next to the glass panel. Hitoshi sighed as he took the one in the middle, staring at his classmate. 

“I was expecting him to be a social butterfly, but he just arrived and he’s already writing in his notebook. I didn’t see him at the entrance exam, maybe he was just in another group.” He thought, eyeing the boy’s blue book. “His scars are very intriguing .”

“So, Shinsou-kun.” His classmate’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Why do you want to become a hero?” 

That question throws him off for a moment. People usually asked ‘what’s your quirk?’ or ‘where are you from?’ as the first question they ask when meeting someone new, but he never received that one. 

He sighed. “I’ve always wanted to be a hero, yet no one believed in me for my quirk. It could be considered as villainous.” Something flashed in his big emerald eyes. “I’m proving them wrong.”

Midoriya smiled, clicking his pen and placing it on the table. “I think I like you, Shinsou.”

Their conversation was cut off by an overly loud voice coming from the hallways, resounding on the walls.

“Midoriya, I also have an educated guess on who our homeroom teacher might be.” That got a laugh out of the smaller boy, and Hitoshi contained a snort.

“HELLO LITTLE LISTENERS!” The hero said with his quirk activated, as all of his pupils covered their ears. 

“Welcome to general education! I’ll be your host, Present Mic.” He smiled and tilted his bizarre sunglasses. 

Shinsou saw Izuku beam with the corner of his eyes. “A Present Mic fan?” He thought. “Maybe he’s just excited that our homeroom teacher is not Midnight.” 

At that same moment, on the other side of the school, Aizawa was waiting for his pupils to change into their gym clothes. He looked at his watch, bored and remembered how Keres had been awfully quiet these past few days, sighing deeply.

“I can’t say Midoriya is Keres. It’s just too far fetched.” He thought as the first students came into the field. “I will have to ask him how and why he knows how to fight that well. He could probably beat a third year student with that ability. Keres or not, that kid has a problem with his quirk.” He sighed once again. All of the students were there, waiting for him to say something. 

This year the hero course had established that the entrance mark would be at least 40 points, and they would increase it if there was a higher demand. The demand was high, yes, but a lot of the participants didn’t have quirks suited to fight robots, so the hero course didn’t have enough students. Nedzu – of course – refused changing the minimum entrance mark, so each class was supposed to be of twenty pupils, yet class 1-A only received 19.

He looked at the file in his hands. They were Midoriya’s results on the physical general education test. Having in mind he didn’t use a quirk, he would establish those scores as perfection. 

Aizawa wasn’t an asshole, he knew when a kid couldn’t do anything useful with his quirk in a test, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t achieve great scores without it. He had used the logical ruse to squeeze his student’s brains as much as he could. He had to expel a student that day, he showed no potential and disrespected his female classmates more than once during the day, receiving two formal complaints. Shouta wasn’t going to bother teaching him. 

His phone started to vibrate slightly and saw an unknown number on the screen. Shouta looked at it confused, and picked up the call.

“Hello? Who is this?” He asked in a monotone voice.

“Yo, Eraserhead! Keres speaking.” The teen’s irritating voice came through the speakers.

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

Shouta sighed. “Brat, shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I am! I take my education extremely seriously.” The pro-hero sincerely doubted that.

“Why did you call me? I have work to do.” He said annoyed. 

“Oh, you know, just wanted to check up on you. How’s my investigation going?” The kid chirped.

“Ah, there’s the real reason.”

“It’s confidential.” He retorted, but Shouta suddenly lights up, running into the main building.

“Yeah sure. Don’t make me hack into my file again please.” Keres laughed. 

“Again?” Aizawa thought.

“To be honest, I have a suspect and he should be right now at U.A’s entrance ceremony. If he’s not here by the time I arrive, then he’s doomed. And you’re doomed too.” He strode through the halls.

“It’s fun.” Keres said suddenly, holding back a giggle.

The pro-hero sighed. “What’s fun?” He arrived to the entrance speech, Nedzu giving one of his never ending speeches. By the look of the students, they had been here for more than an hour.

“Seeing you struggle.” He cut the call, leaving Aizawa hanging. He spotted Midoriya in the crowd. He’s was not paying attention to Nedzu, but having a conversation with a purple-haired boy on his right. Something in his eyes flickered and looked at Eraserhead. He waved discreetly but returned to his classmate, back into their conversation. He left the area disappointed.

“By the way, Midoriya.” The purple-head said once the boy stopped panting. “Who did you have to call so urgently? 

“My tutor. I wanted to tell her that I will be arriving late tonight.” He looked at the taller teen. “Did I miss anything?” He saw a dark figure in a jumpsuit and he almost wanted to laugh. He waved at the pro-hero and the aforenamed left with a crestfallen look on his face.

“Perfect timing.”

“Why do you know Eraserhead?” Hitoshi asked, eyebrows lifted at the little exchange.

“Oh, he was my examiner. He kept me for a while helping.” His green eyes returned to Nedzu’s speech, almost over by now.

“You’re smooth, Midoriya.” Shinsou thought, as he mimicked the green-head. “A really smooth liar.”

The day was almost over and Midoriya didn’t know anybody in his class yet except for Shinsou, who was nice. He really didn’t care about making more friends – at least not now – but he also didn’t want to seem intimidating to other students. 

Instead of presenting himself to his classmates, he was spending his lunch in the toilet. Izuku wasn’t really expecting his childhood friend to be part of class 1-A’s welcome bandwagon. Of course, his fight-or-flight reaction acted upon him when he heard those little explosions that he would never forget coming down the hallway, and rushed to the bathroom feeling extremely sick.

So now he was hiding there, like a coward. Better that than seeing Bakugou.

He slowly wetted his hands in the sink and touched his face, covering it with cold water. The teen looked at the mirror, his reflection staring right back at him. His hair was once longer and styled beautifully, but the housemothers didn’t really know how to cut hair apart from simple styles, so he eventually refused getting his hair styled by them and started doing it himself. He tried shaving his sides once, and needless to say it was a disaster. The result of both haircuts was a now denser central part – with wild curls – but his sides were a bit shorter – he had more or less grown them out – yet he was satisfied with this style. 

The eye bags he collected as a kid became more prominent as the years passed and sleep decreased. His eyes were emerald green, yet they weren’t very impressive to look at. They became duller due to the purplish colour under them, making him seem constantly bored if serious. The cheerful act helped, making people too overwhelmed by his personality to notice his unexpressive eyes. 

He had worked as a vigilante for some years now and that only meant scars accumulating in his body. Izuku didn’t have anything major thanks to the healing ability of his quirk, just little scars littered around his body. He had a few on his face, one on the corner of his right eyebrow, and another one dividing the left side of his lip. This last one wasn’t very prominent, but you could definitely see it if you were analyzing his face. He had a very uncanny diagonal one on his right cheekbone that was pretty profound but small, covering a minor but clear section on it. His freckles were still there, and came from his cheeks to the point of his nose, a few landing on the start of his forehead too, next to his eyebrows. Most of them were extremely faint, and mixed with the scars it wasn’t the main focus of his face.

He sighed as he walked back to his classroom, accompanied by the sound of the bell. General education students didn’t have hero training class, but they had physical education, as any other high school. Izuku wasn’t looking forward to that.

The teen entered his classroom, only to find no one there yet. He sat on his desk, resting his head on the table, and closed his eyelids.

“Midoriya.” A male voiced called for him. 

He rubbed his eyes and saw Eraserhead in front of him, arms crossed. He pouted.

“What are you doing here?” He whined, head still pressed to his work surface. “Go away.” The vigilante muttered as he closed his eyes again.

“Kid, I’m your gym teacher. I literally have to teach you right now.” The pro-hero snarled.

“I don’t care. Older students say you always arrive in the last second to class, why are you here already?” The green-head said, eyelids still closed. 

Shouta sighed. “I wanted to talk to you.” He paused, and the child doesn’t answer. “Where did you learn to fight that well?” 

“Dojo.” He muttered sleepily.

“No.” Aizawa retorted. “You have developed your own fighting style, dojos only teach you a martial art.”

“Dojo taught me lots of martial arts.” He replied robotically.

“Sure, kid, sure.” The pro-hero finally said, unwilling to hear Midoriya’s lame excuses any longer. “Today you’re going to fight against me in class.”

Izuku straightened up immediately, gaping at his teacher. “What? Why?”

“It’s a tradition. The first place of general education gets beaten up by his teacher to show everyone how much they have to learn.” He saw Aizawa’s eyebrow twitch.

“You’re lying, it’s not a tradition.” He replied. 

“Gotcha, Eraserhead. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie.” He thought, remembering when the hero told him his quirk lets him see if the person has an ability. “Asshole, you won that day.”

“From now on, it’s a tradition.” 

The little vigilante started whining as more students came into the room. Shouta turned around, hiding his half-smile under the scarves. “No holding back now, Midoriya.” The pro-hero had noticed the teen was not giving his all when fighting the other examinees, so he wanted to see the full spectrum of his talent.

“I want you all changed and in gym number two in 6 minutes.” He tried to keep his voice controlled.

Everyone left sprinting, Midoriya giving him a glare before he exited the classroom accompanied by the purple-head.

He reached the gym, problem child arriving not long after.

“Did the brat come here sprinting?” He wondered. He’s brought with him his little companion.

After breathing deeply a few times, Izuku started warming up with stupid moves. That took a laugh out of Shinsou, who began imitating him. They both did a complex choreography of movements while Eraserhead just stared at them, eyebrows lifted.

They ended up on the floor exhausted as the other students who were beginning to arrive threw confused glances at them.

“Midoriya, come here.” He called once all of the students were there. The boy freezed for a second and robotically went up to this teacher.

“Oh please. You’ve been a pest since day one, don’t act so shy now.” He thought clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Midoriya ended up first of all classes in the general education exam. While this doesn’t bring any special rewards, I have made the tradition of the top student fighting against me, to show how much you can and will improve in the following years.”

Shinsou looked around and saw horrified faces. He turned to see his friend’s unbothered expression, glaring at Aizawa.

“That little shit already knew and said nothing about it.” Hitoshi had only known the green-head for half a day yet they had already bonded in a weird way. It was nice, for once, not being judged for his quirk. Midoriya didn’t ask for it so Hitoshi was going to hide it for as long as he possibly could.

That being said, he had no chance against Eraserhead. “Rest in peace, Midoriya, it’s been great knowing you.” He thought amused, sticking his tongue out slightly.

“The fight will be in the last twenty minutes of class. I will pull Midoriya out a few minutes earlier so he can rest.”

“Okie-doke, Aizawa-sensei.” The vigilante mockingly said his teacher’s honorifics. The pro-hero growls, and sent them all to run around the field a couple of times.

 “Until I feel like it” He had said.

Shinsou patiently waited for Izuku and they both began running, keeping the same pace.

“Dude.” The purple-head panted. “You’re dead meat.”

Izuku laughed. “I’ll do my best. I bet you an ice cream that I will last more than three minutes against him.”

“Midoriya, faster.” His teacher growled once they got over the first lap. The kid gaped and pointed at his classmate, Aizawa blatantly ignoring his protests.

Hitoshi looked at him. “Deal.” The green-head smiled and sped up, Shinsou soon losing track of the teen.

After a few minutes Eraserhead whistled. He sent them to do a couple of exercises more as Izuku saw the rest of his classmates struggling to breathe and panting, yet he was completely unfazed by it.

“I was once like you guys. Once I realized sometimes the only option was to run for your life, that changed.” He remembered fondly.

Not long after his teacher pulled him out of the game, rolling his eyes seeing that the brat wasn’t even tired, yet still looked a bit pale. He saw Midoriya sitting behind him.

“I don’t know what are you trying to achieve by keeping a facade up, Midoriya.” He said, not looking at the kid. “But I will discover it.”

The boy laughed. “Why are you so obsessed with me, Eraserhead?”

“It’s Aizawa-sensei from now on, brat.” He snarled. “And I’m not obsessed with you. If any of my students are involved in stuff they’re not supposed to, It’s my duty to find out and punish them for it.” He turned around, facing the kid.

“What are you implying?” Midoriya glared, eyes cold and calculating.

He could almost imagine them black like charcoal. “Their gaze is identical.”

“Nothing.” He glared back.

“Aizawa-sensei.” The kid said, standing up. “I live in an orphanage, although you already know that. I understand that you might think not having parents gives me more freedom and makes me more childish, but that does not give you the right to imply that I’m a criminal.” He breathed in deeply and walked up to him, standing by his side. “I don’t care what you’re trying to prove or find out about me. I admire you as a hero and as my teacher, and I’m grateful for your support the other day, but you’re not my therapist.” The boy paused, trying to control his emotions. “Please , don’t open closed wounds.” He whispered.

Aizawa didn’t reply, he simply called over the other students. When they were all there, he began speaking.

“In real life, there are no boundaries. No limits. You should play with your environment every time you fight, making it an advantage for yourself.” He looked at Izuku with the corner of his eye. “The only rule of this fight is no quirks. As he doesn’t have gear available, I won’t use my capture weapon.” 

Izuku sighed as he bent over and held his knees, lightly stretching. 

“Shall we start?” Eraserhead placed his goggles on and Midoriya smirked, pushing his previous conversation to the back of his mind.

“I’ve never fought against someone on his level. This will be a good learning experience.”

The teen didn’t have time to ponder on his first move because Aizawa came in strong with double air kicks. He blocked them with his forearms, and the pro-hero followed it up with a punch that he dodges lowering his body. They pause for a moment, staring and each other.

“Showing off, huh?” He mouthed. The hero grins.

Midoriya approached him with a side kick that Aizawa blocked and the vigilante did a back handspring, putting off the pro-hero.

“If you do that again I expel you.” He growled and the kid giggled because of the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Shouta aimed a punch to his kidneys, Izuku trying to dodge it by lowering himself to the floor getting hit on the nose instead, the strength of the punch making him fly backwards. He recovered quickly with a backwards roll, getting on his feet not long after. He felt a sticky liquid touch his upper lip, smudging it with his forehand. His teacher didn’t hesitate and tried to kick his student on the stomach, but the vigilante saw it coming and grabbed his leg before it can impact, throwing a kick aimed at his shoulder. Midoriya concentrated and lowered his adrenaline trying to stop his body from shaking too much.

The hero fell to the ground, but rolled over and slid his leg under Midoriya’s feet, throwing him to the floor making the boy hit his head. The short moment of confusion due to the slight concussion is an opening to Aizawa, but as he tried to block the teen’s arms he received a kick on his side, making him lose the hold. Midoriya was about to stand up and punch back when he realized his body wasn’t reacting properly.

 “Fuck.” He muttered placing an arm over his eyes, irritated by the afternoon light. “Fine. I give up, I’m starting to feel sick.”

“I’m stupid.” He thought, closing his eyes. “I was already tired, adrenaline was the only thing that kept me going. Turning the hormone down was a mistake.”

The hero tried to hide his panting as he offered Midoriya a hand. He moved his finger sideways, indicating he couldn’t even get up. Aizawa sighed and bent down, helping the kid sit up.

For the first time in a few minutes he payed attention to his class, all of them gaping at their classmate.

“Kid I’m sorry, but you’re going to be the talk of the town from now on.” He thought fondly. 

“As you could see,” He started, ending his students’ trance. “Midoriya has experience in fighting. I’m sure most of you won’t reach this level for a while if you’re beginners.” He looked at the kid with the corner of his eyes. 

“God, does he even sleep?” He stared at his dark eyevbags. “He passed from exhaustion, that’s why he was so pale.”

“I want the ones who would like to become heroes here to reflect on that, which is the vast majority. A villain won’t back down if he sees you bleeding, or because you’re young and inexperienced.” He said with a fierce voice and proceeded to cough, aching from the punch on his side. “Don’t worry about him, he’s just exhausted. You’re all dismissed.” The hero added, calming down the purple-head.

Once he was alone, he let the kid’s back rest on his lap. He touched his forehead, wincing at the kid’s warm temperature. Aizawa held Izuku and carried him to recovery girl as fast as his physical state allowed him to.

The school was already empty and the corridors were silent. He strode to the nursery, finding Recovery Girl picking her things up already. She turned around and saw the bloodied kid on Shouta’s arms, glaring at the teacher like she actually wanted to strangle him.

He winced at the sight. The old lady said nothing as she silently asked him to place the kid on the white stretcher. Aizawa did as he was told, too afraid to talk at this point.

“Care to explain what happened?” She asked, voice oddly calm. 

The pro-hero sighed, placing his hand on his face. “We had a fight.”

She blinked a couple of times. “Excuse me, you had a what ?”

“Everything was controlled, I promise. The kid isn’t even injured, he just fell from exhaustion.”

“I know, Shouta. I’m the doctor here.” That made him look away from the old lady’s eyes. She sighed. “I’ve run some quick tests on him. He’s not eating properly or getting any sleep for the past few days. Judging by his eyebags it’s probably the latter.” 

Aizawa looked at the sleeping child, pinching his nose.

“I have to do something about this kid too.”

It was late at night, but the bar was empty. The sound of glasses being cleaned and stored filled the room, and a man was playing a video game on his portable console with his volume turned off. He had shaggy light blue hair, and his skin was dry and flaky. The individual scratched his neck nervously. 

The peaceful silence ended with the sound of static invading his ears. Someone talked.

“Is everything ready?” The muffled voice asked.

“Almost, Sensei. We still have a piece of the puzzle missing. His resentment for heroes will be the key for us to succeed.” The blue-haired man replied, pausing the game. 

“Oh?” The voice replied interested.

“He’s been slowly gaining reputation, and could be really important in our operation. If we are able to get him affiliated with the league his influence would be shocking to the media, giving us attention. He could help us in getting rid of the little nuisances too.” That last words were spit with disgust. 

“And the name?”

“His name is Keres, Sensei.”

Chapter Text

 Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 8.

Notes:

I was wondering, If I had severe injuries and fell unconscious, would my quirk activate as a defense mechanism?

To what point can my quirk reach?

Why can I create injuries? How am I doing that, what’s the science behind it? Am I suddenly deteriorating skin? Controlling blood inside out? Does it have to do with platelets?

Why can I control blood, oxygen and hormones? What relationship do they have? What more will I eventually control?

Who thought it was a good idea to give me the power to kill people with the snap of my fingers? How can such a strange mutation occur?

Everything was cold and dark. The boy couldn’t see his own body in the blackness of the room as he rested his head on the wooden floor, breathing heavily. He was tightly grabbing the edge of his shirt into his mouth, muffling his already quiet sobs. His throat was dry from the lack of water, and his stomach ached in pain. The sad child desperately wanted to leave the room but he couldn’t.

His eyelids finally closed from exhaustion.

Keres pasted his lemon-green sticky note on the villain’s forehead. He had called the police beforehand – telling all of the details to the detective – so the only thing written on the paper was a big fighting emoji that had to search online to copy. He hoped the detective would appreciate his art.

“He definitely won’t.” He said to himself as he climbed down the tree. The area was strangely calm, so the teen was bored. Whenever he captured a villain Midoriya tried to place them in the most bizarre position he could ever imagine, and took a picture to later post it on the hero forums, where he had a subtopic reserved for him. This time one of the villain’s ankles was attached with a rope to a tree, his body hanging loosely. 

He left the crime scene with a grin forming on his face as he found the nearest emergency ladder and climbed up to the top of a building. He watched the neighbourhood’s flashing lights and silent streets. The night sky was clear and little stars sparkled in the black yonder. The teen breathed in deeply, trying to process everything that had happened that day. He was really mad at Aizawa, and although his teacher had been right about his suspicions, he had been very insistent on Izuku. He was constantly toying with him, waiting for Midoriya to slip and reveal himself and that was pretty nerve-racking. The pro-hero had made him the center of attention so he absolutely dreaded going to school tomorrow.

He sighed. Shinsou would probably back him up for a while, but he’d want answers eventually too. The teen cussed softly. Knowing how high schools worked, the incident would have already reached all of the classes, which meant that Bakugou would have probably discovered about him too. 

“Maybe I can get away with ignoring him.” He smiled, sitting on the edge of the building.

“Sure, Izuku. News spread about you fighting Eraserhead and Bakugou is going to let you escape.” He thought to himself, rolling his black eyes.

He had to be careful from now on. No more attention to himself until the sports festival. He would get into the hero course, getting a brief moment of glory. The teen would hopefully get his provisional license, and would abandon vigilantism. That was the plan, at least.

His night was interrupted by a deep voice creeping behind his back. “Keres.” They paused. “You’re not easy to find.”

The teen turned his head, looking at the subject. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He said standing up from the edge. “What do you want? I’m not in the mood for fights.”

The person was dressed up in a suit, yet he didn’t seem to have a physical body. In the place where his head should be there was a purple mist with two elongated yellowish eyes, his hands also replaced by that dark haze.

“My name is Kurogiri, and I’ve come on behalf of the League of Villains.” The man was very educated when addressing him. “My boss would like to have a chat with you.”

Izuku tried to appear completely unfazed. “I want nothing to do with villains.”

Midoriya had heard about the League of Villains before in the underground forums and they were becoming increasingly powerful. Although they haven’t done anything remarkable yet, more and more people were joining them, and their boss was said to be a powerful man. He didn’t like that kind of organization taking interest on Keres.

The mist-man nodded and continued. “My boss also thought you’d say this. He wanted me to tell you that this would benefit both parties equally.” 

The young vigilante sighed. He was aware of the risk that he was taking, but if he could get any valuable information on the league it was worth it. “Sure, I’ll have a chat with him. If I see myself in danger at any moment the deal is over.”

Kurogiri can’t smile, but he seemed pleased as he explained him a bit of his quirk. “My quirk won’t hurt you, but it will be uncomfortable. Please stand straight, I’ll teleport you to our base.”

Black surrounded him, dizziness kicking in instantly, and in just a few seconds he was standing in the middle of an empty bar. He tried to keep his body balanced as best as he physically could but Midoriya still had to lean on the unpolluted counter. The only person in the bar was a young man with bushy and untidy light blue hair. Izuku would say he was young because of his body language, as he couldn’t see his face, being blocked by a hand. The vigilante didn’t know if it was real and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He was placing his real hands on the counter, with a pinky lifted up. 

“Does that have something to do with his quirk?”

“Ah, Keres.” He said, closing the game console. “I was waiting for you.” 

The teenager narrowed his eyes. “Get to the point.” He snarled, tired of beating around the bush.

The boss seemed pretty displeased after the comment, but continued. “First, formalities. I’m Shigaraki Tomura, the leader.” He paused for a moment. “The reason why I brought you here is for you to take part in my plan, the downfall of the Symbol of Peace.”

Izuku blinked a couple of times, astonished. “Excuse me, did you just say downfall? Of All Might?” He turned to Kurogiri and pointed at the blue-haired man. “Is he okay?” The mist-man shrugged lightly, getting a laugh out of the teen.

“This is not a joke.” The leader said angrily, stomping his fist on the table. “We have everything prepared to attack All Might when he least expects it. There are weapons in our arsenal that no one has ever had before. We’re going to kill him.”

Keres sighed, storing the information for later. “Sure, let’s assume all of that is true. Why would I want to join you?” He retorted.

“For a peace treaty.” He paused, Midoriya starting to pay attention. “The League of Villains won’t meddle into your business and will owe you a favor. Once you’re there, you only need to distract, so there will be no blood on your hands.” He explains satisfied.

The teen’s brain raced with possibilities, outcomes. “What do you gain from it? And when’s the attack going to take place?” Izuku hoped he could get a bit more of information out of this.

“Impact. You’re really popular in the media, and if a previously lawful teenager suddenly sided with the villains, wouldn’t it be interesting?” He replied licking his dry lips. “The attack is in two days. You can make the decision the day of the strike, I don’t mind.” The man childishly said. “You are not really fond of All Might either, are you?”

“No. I don’t particularly like him.” He sincerely replied.

Midoriya had been obsessed with him as a kid, but as he grew up he realised that heroes weren’t what they seemed to appear as. They were also scared and had families, things to live for, and his brain couldn’t understand how the number one hero was able to put a fake smile on his face on every occasion. Wasn’t he scared, too? Heroes weren’t invincible. Heroes didn’t save everyone.

“But that doesn’t mean I want him dead, Shigaraki.” He retorted, looking at the villain. “I know you’ll pull the plan with or without me, so I’ll think about it.” 

He turned around. “Kurogiri, would you mind returning me to where I was at?” He politely asked.

“Before you go.” Tomura said as he handed him a note with two fingers. “Here’s Kurogiri’s contact information. If you decide to come, call him.”

He nodded and mist surrounded him once again. 

Midoriya was especially cautious when returning to the orphanage.

When pro-hero Hizashi Yamada arrived to class he was expecting it to be empty, as it was really early in the morning. He didn’t expect to see a sleeping kid in the back row of the classroom. That kid was none other than Midoriya Izuku, the one Shouta had made him fight the day before.

All of the teachers were informed of the situation last night via their group chat. When his colleague told him what he had done to the poor kid, he wanted to scream next to him until his ears bled. “YOU CAN’T JUST PUT THE KID THROUGH THAT AMOUNT OF STRESS! Fighting his teacher in front of the class, I would have passed away.” He screamed into his phone with his quirk activated, leaving a voice message. The other teachers agreed with Hizashi too, and Aizawa finally admitted that maybe he had been a bit tough on the kid. 

He sighed as he placed his things on the teacher’s table. The pro-hero would let the teen rest until his classmates started to come, he would question him then. Hizashi was sure that the event had been spread through all of the general education classes and probably the hero ones too. He looked at the seemingly skinny kid, and shook his head. Midoriya was strong, and he had no idea why or how did he learn to fight well enough to hold up against a pro-hero, and get a good few hits on him. Judging by the picture he sent him privately, Aizawa’s whole side was bruised and a little bit swelled up too.

Izuku yawned very softly and incorporated himself from the table. He pouted as he rubbed his eyes, like a baby. “Midoriya needs to be protected.” Hizashi thought as he saw he green-head wake up in the cutest way ever. His eye bags were more prominent than yesterday and that worried Yamada a lot.

“Oh, hello Present Mic. I’m sorry.” Izuku said struggling to open his eyes. “What time is it?”

He frowned. “There’s still 30 minutes left for classes to start little listener.” Hizashi said softer than usual. 

The teen growled and resumed his sleep, but other students started to come in. When they saw Midoriya they stopped, freezed in place. Their eyes widened and if they were coming with someone else, they whispered comments to each other. The classroom started to become busy – yet Izuku kept sleeping – or at least looked like he was asleep. Yamada doubted it, thinking he was just avoiding the situation for as long as he possibly could.

Shinsou entered the class groggily, his hair visibly not brushed. He sighed in relief when he saw he wasn’t late, and went to sit in his place. He blinked a couple of times to his left, where the green-head was. He snorted, starting to shake Midoriya. The vigilante groaned as he sat up, looking at his friend. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He stopped, looking at his eye bags. “You might beat me one day if you keep pulling all nighters.”

The shorter teen glared at him. “It wasn’t an all nighter.” He paused for a second, moving his head softly to crack his neck. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

Hitoshi sighed. “I feel you, buddy. Did anyone say anything about yesterday?” He asked.

Midoriya shook his head. 

“Good. If they start being a pest just call me.” He said, taking stuff out of his backpack.

His friend snorted. “I think I can deal with a bunch of kids myself, thank you.” 

“Yeah sure.” He stared at him. “I might be wrong, but I have the feeling that you get overwhelmed easily.” 

Izuku clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t say it like that. I don’t like crowds.”

“That’s a pretty common fear.” He replied, not knowing what else to say.

The class president is elected, and a pretty white-haired girl is chosen. Classes started, and Izuku was so bored. 

“History of quirks? Why is this a subject?” He asked to himself. This isn’t like his middle school so he technically couldn’t skip classes. Midoriya grunted as he ignored the teacher and went far deep into the book, looking at the contents. When he was a kid he had this bizarre fascination with quirks, probably because he didn’t have one. That made him stop in the town’s library all afternoons and read everything he could find on strange abilities, starting from the first quirk ever. So history of quirks was like returning to elementary school.

“Midoriya, could you please tell the class where the first quirk appeared and why?” Snipe said loudly. Izuku realised that he was mad at him for not paying attention.

He stood up. “The first quirk appeared in Qing Qing City, China. It was a newborn baby who had the ability to emanate light from their body. It is unknown why was that baby or that city. After that incident, many people around the world began to manifest different kinds of special abilities. While the cause of the quirk phenomenon is unknown, it has been theorized that the spread of a virus carried by mice had brought about their development.” He mouthed, spitting information out. The teen sat down once again, leaving Snipe startled. The pro-hero thanked him and continued his class as Midoriya dozed off once again.

It felt like an eternity had gone by for Izuku, but lunchtime eventually came. The green-head exited the classroom running, heading off to the cafeteria.

“The only thing that can give me energy to survive through today is Lunch-Rush’s food.” He thought, running in the hallways.

He reached the cafeteria after a few reprimands from the teachers, and he saw he was the first one to arrive. Izuku did a little triumph dance as he chose his food, making the pro-hero put a thumbs up in approval of his choice. The second student to arrive was Hitoshi, who clearly came running as well. 

“You little shit!” He exclaimed, panting. The green-head shrugged, too tired to fight at this point. They both sat in the furthest away table from the entrance to not get mobbed by the students coming. 

“So.” Shinsou started, mouth full of food. “What’s up with your awesome battle skills?”

Izuku munched his meal before replying. “I’ve been fighting since I was eleven. I had a lot of free time and my day was just fighting, fighting and more fighting until I could get into another martial art.” 

“Dude.” The purple-head said, biting his apple. “You don’t get that good in what, three years?” He retorted. “Hell, you’ve been able to fight Eraserhead and hold up for a while.”

Midoriya laughed and shook his head. “Shinsou, do you really think Aizawa-sensei was serious when fighting me? He was holding back.”

Hitoshi lifted up an eyebrow but said nothing. They ate in a comfortable silence as people muttered and pointed at Izuku. The last-mentioned sighed, the situation making him feel uneasy.

“Deku, you fuck!” Someone screamed at the distance. 

Shinsou tried to look at the source of the voice, and saw an angry explosive blonde kid from the hero course coming to their way. He looked at his friend and he was completely freezed.

“What? Midoriya, who’s Deku?” He asked in an alarmed voice as the blond strided towards their table. The vigilante breathed in and out a couple of times before standing up and turning around, facing the explosive kid. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Bakugou. I see you reached your goal, first place in the entrance exam. That’s impressive.” He calmly said, lifting up an eyebrow. Shinsou gaped at his friend’s snarky tone.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Deku? Your parents are dead.” He exclaimed, some people around gasping at the blunt comment.

The shorter teen laughed, crossing his arms. “I’m aware of it, Kacchan.” He condescendingly said. “I don’t see how that affects me being here though.”

Shinsou looked at the green-head’s shaky hands being covered with his arms. “Fuck, he is scared of him.” His attitude showed quite the opposite, making Hitoshi wonder how good of a liar his friend really was.

“Why would they accept a useless fuck like you? You’re quirkless!” He remarked. “And now you pick up fights with teachers. Who the fuck do you think you are, Deku?”

Izuku licked his lips and watched his surroundings. All eyes were on him. 

He smirked.

“Quirkless? I’ve got great news for you, Bakugou. I have a quirk! Isn’t that absolutely amazing?” He sarcastically replied with a smile. 

“Deku, you fuck-” He grabbed Midoriya’s collar, pulling him closer. The green-head activated his quirk and pushed adrenaline up, in a desperate attempt to not break down at his contact.

He glared at his childhood friend. “What, are you going to hit me? Missing your puppet after all those years?” He whispered so that only the blonde teen could hear it. 

Something in his red eyes flickered, letting go of the hold. Midoriya gulped as the explosive kid left stomping. 

He turned around and sat down while conversations started flowing again. His hands didn’t stop shaking. 

Hitoshi slid his hand across the table and grabbed his friend’s wrist in an attempt to stop the movement. The nervous boy winced at the contact, slowly retrieving his hand and placing it under the table, where no one could see his compulsive shaking. 

“Midoriya, are you oka-” His phrase was cut short by a loud alarm.

“Security level 3 has been breached. Please evacuate the area in an organized manner. This is not a simulation. This is not a simulation.”

The two startled teens glanced at each other as other students start to scream and run out of the cafeteria. Midoriya calmly looked at the window and saw the press breaking through the door.  

He sighed, finishing his meal. “It’s the press. Don’t run or you’ll be caught in the stampede.” Izuku ordered.  

The green-head silently looked at the disintegrated door. “This wasn’t the press. Someone’s trying to infiltrate UA.” He thought, his eyes widening in realisation. “No, it can’t be.”  

Both of them stood up when the majority of the students calmed down.

“Shinsou.” He said as they walked down the stairs. “All Might teaches here, right?” 

The teen threw a confused look at him. “Yes, I think he started this year in the hero course. Why?” 

Izuku smiled at him. “Nothing, I was just wondering.”

“The league is going to attack U.A tomorrow.” He thought, biting his nails. “And I can’t do anything to stop it.”

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 9.

Notes:

Who has the disintegration ability? Their leader. He was lifting up a pinky the other day, probably to not destroy the counter. I assume that if he places all five fingers, you’re out. With what velocity can he liquidate objects? And humans?

[Blank]

Izuku left school the day before of the attack faking to be sick, lowering his blood pressure so Recovery Girl could see it and send him home, which worked perfectly fine. He had to pull an all nighter arranging his gadgets and calling Insomniac’s contacts so he could buy some new weapons. The next morning he faked being sick again, his sleepless face helping to pull off the act. The housemothers were busy persons with toddlers to care for so they usually didn’t check on the older ones, and if they did it would usually be at lunch time. If the attack was in the morning Izuku would have enough time to return home.

Hopefully.

The teen opened the drawer from his bedside table, taking a crumpled piece of paper from the bottom of it. He slowly dialed the numbers.

“Hello?” The man’s voice answered from his phone.

“Kurogiri, this is Keres. I’m in.” The vigilante said, biting his nails. Izuku didn’t have to take such a big risk, but he wasn’t aware that there were other options, like calling the police. The boy was distrustful of them, and once he discovered that Yuuei was involved in the attack any trace of his logical thinking completely vanished.

“Wonderful. The attack will be in three hours. I will send you a location where I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes, we will tell you the details once we are in the base.”

“Cool. See ya.” He hung up, eyeing his new weapons with the corner of his eyes, and pulled up his mask. 

The jaw part of it was squared and made from hard grey metal, leaving gas filters on the sides, meanwhile the front part was rectangular and prominent, yet it slightly sloped on the eyes and nose zone so it could adapt to his facial structure. He would wear his signature hoodie and cargo pants accompanied by some black combat boots with steel on the soles. He watched his hair and sighed, noticing his sides weren’t growing at the same pace as the crown hair, which was really curly and long. He let his bangs rest on his forehead and covered his green hair with his hoodie, adjusting the pins so that it wouldn’t fall off while fighting.

“Let the show begin.” He thought as he touched the profound scar on his cheek.

Izuku licked his lips under the mask, listening to the instructions. He was in the same bar he had been at a few days ago, but that day it was packed with villains. He tapped a button on the side of his utility belt – Midoriya had welded a little camera on it – and started recording. 

“...The attack will be at Unforeseen Simulation Joint, or U.S.J for short.” Kurogiri explained, stopping to breathe. “Our team has already deactivated U.A’s sensors, I will open a portal in the middle of the central plaza and in the different zones. We will distribute according to plan.” Izuku looked at Shigaraki who was clearly not paying attention. “Keres, Shigaraki and I will enter and announce ourselves first.” The teen wanted to scoff at that.

“I’m not part of the league, dammit.”   

“The Noumu will follow us shortly.” Midoriya arched an eyebrow at that comment, as he had no idea what a Noumu was. When he had asked about that ‘ultimate weapon’ he hadn’t gotten an answer. 

“We’re expecting Eraserhead, Thirteen and All Might to be there according to the timetable.” Kurogiri continued. “Class 1-A will also be there. You have the authorisation to eradicate them if necessary.” 

Izuku’s blood turned cold. He looked sideways, looking at the villains, and none of them seemed very surprised at the mention of killing children.

He heard Shigaraki growl. “It’s time. All Might, you’re done for.” His voice seemed oddly cheerful, and although he was wearing a hand to cover his face, Midoriya would bet he was smiling.

“Their leader acts like an arrogant child. He’s impatient and irritable.” The teen thought. “What a handful.” 

“Keres.” Shigaraki called annoyed. “You’re here to cause an impression, do it.” He snarled.

Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Of course. May I have a word when we arrive then?”

Tomura pondered about it for a moment. “Yes, but keep it short. It’s my moment.”

The teen held back a snort. “Sure, leader.” He whispered mocking the man-child.

Izuku tried to look around the bar, but everything was closed off. He could see some stairs leading up to the second floor, but they were completely blocked out by a metal fence and he couldn’t see any windows. Midoriya had no idea of where he was, and neither did the rest of the pawns , as the boy liked to call them. You could tell just by the look of the other villains that they were new, and only had a strong desire to fight or murder. If everything went according to plan, they would be in jail by the end of the day.

Kurogiri called them all. “We’re about to enter. Keres, Shigaraki, at the front.” 

Midoriya touched his new weapons nervously. His camera was not visible from the exterior, he made sure of that. The quality of the video was dreadful but it was better than nothing.

A purple misty portal opened in front on him. Izuku closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

He smirked as the darkness swallowed him. 

The vigilante opened his eyes being hit my a sudden light, and looked at his surroundings. Shigaraki was by his side, as well as Kurogiri. He saw the students and teachers in the entrance. Aizawa was gaping at him. 

“Engrave this moment in your brain, Izuku.” He thought, biting his tongue. “It’s probably the only reaction you’ll ever get from him.”

The teen could see the entirety of class 1-A, quickly recognising their faces. They were all in their hero suits, and Midoriya had the urge to roll his eyes. Those costumes must have cost a fortune.

“Huh, All Might is not here.” The leader said, touching Midoriya’s shoulder with three fingers, marking his stellar moment.

He breathed in deeply and began his monologue.

“Students and teachers, it’s a pleasure being here today!” He strode forward and began to walk towards the entrance, approaching them slowly. “In case you don’t know me, I’m Keres, and i’m accompanying the League of Villains today.” He bowed lightly for a dramatic effect as the teen heard a voice, robotic and emotionless that cut through the silence like a knife.
“

Oh, that’s my voice.”

“What’s with that look on your faces?” He snarled, looking at the nervous gazes of the students. “I’m personally thrilled. I get to meet future heroes! Must be really hard for you guys right? Being born with a silver spoon on your mouth?” He barked at them and rubbed the back of his neck, looking to his sides. His eyes became bored when they set on Aizawa. “Eraserhead? Didn’t expect me to be here?” Izuku laughed, it was short and fake – like a little giggle – but the teen wasn’t aware of how terrifying it sounded.

“Heroes believe everyone needs to be saved, that everyone has the right to be saved.” He stopped, frowning. “That’s why I hate you.” The vigilante stared at the pro-hero. “Some people are too far to reach. Sometimes, Eraserhead, people don’t have the right to be saved. Some people are cursed .” His voice appeared wicked and crude, accompanied by exaggerated hand movements. “I hope we can have a lovely morning together!” He chirped looking at the students with open arms.

“And please, I came here to have a good time.” Izuku turned around – facing Shigaraki – and rotated his head towards the students.

“Don’t make me destroy you.”

“Aizawa-sensei…” Uraraka’s voice made him go back into his senses. The pro-hero slid his goggles on. 

“We’re under a villain attack.” He said, trying to fight back his emotions. “Every one of you has to evacuate immediately.” Shouta turned to his colleague. “Thirteen, please protect the students.” The man said as he threw himself into the horde of villains in central plaza. 

As he was slowly but consistently knocked down villains he saw Keres next to Shigaraki. Shouta tried to not feel betrayed, but he couldn’t stop that feeling from invading his chest.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he also felt guilty. Sad, even. “How could a child end up in a villain alliance? Does he hate heroes that much?” He thought, kicking a villain in his stomach. “No. That’s not the Keres I know, there’s have to be a logical explanation.”

“Where’s the warp guy…?” He thought as he took a moment to look backwards. The pro-hero saw the villain warping his students away, as Thirteen got seriously injured. He didn’t have time to see if the other hero was okay as a short but quick vigilante launched himself into him with some extendable metal rods.

“And now someone gave the kid good weapons.”  

“Keres, why are you doing this?” He muttered and dodged a long but fine blade aiming at his leg. The teen winked and lowered his guard, shorting the distance with Aizawa. 

“Listen closely, Eraserhead. I won’t repeat this twice.” The child’s robotic voice filled his ears as he threw a punch which was instantly dodged by him. “I don’t know if you heard Shigaraki’s little egocentric speech after my stupid monologue, but they’re here to kill All Might.” The boy panted and took a shorter blade from his pocket, darting it at Shouta’s capture weapon.  

“What?” Aizawa gasped out, completely confused. The man’s eyes widened in realisation. “Kid, please don’t tell me you managed to infiltrate in the league.”

“The man with the shaggy blue hair? He has a disintegration quirk, and you annoy him a lot . Five fingers on and you’re done for.” The vigilante said ignoring the hero and pushed his metal rods into the floor, launching himself into the air to avoid Aizawa’s attack. He was breathing heavily so Eraserhead decided to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

“This must have been mentally exhausting for him. Sometimes I forget that he’s a child.” He thought as he dodged a blade. “And physically too. He must be running on adrenaline right now.”

“They’re going to bring the thing soon. I don’t know what it is, but they’re very sure that it’s capable of killing All Might.” The teen retroceded as he received a kick in his stomach. “I don’t think Shigaraki Tomura is their top leader, there’s definitely someone much more powerful pulling the strings.” He gasped out as he took his long blade once again, using the rods to fly over Shouta, aiming his sword at the heart. He shifted his position swiftly to dodge the katana as the boy landed on the ground. His attacks were quick and unpredictable thanks to his metal rods, but the vigilante made them easy to dodge. The thought that Keres wasn’t using his full force against him made his hairs stand on end.

“He is childish and has an obsession with All Might. Kurogiri, the one with the warp quirk might seem a bit more sane but he won’t show remorse in killing your students.” Keres double kicked the hero but he recovered rapidly, throwing his scarves once again at the vigilante. “He has teleported them into different locations, they’re surrounded by low-tier villains so don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” The teen said as he used his sticks to avoid the capture weapon. “Even a toddler could beat those guys up.” 

“The thing is called a Noumu. Brainless.” The boy blurted out as he started to retreat. “Don’t let that thing get you. Shigaraki has total or partial control of it, that’s all I know.” He used his poles to launch himself once again, trying to win time as Aizawa threw his capture gear into the air as well. “If it gets you,” He stopped narrowing his eyes. “I will throw hands.” He laughed, adrenaline rapidly pumping through his body.

“We’ll talk after this is over.” Aizawa gasped out although he really doubted it and retrieved his weapon. “But thank you.” The boy’s eyes wrinkled up, smiling, and Eraserhead turned his attention to the other low-tier villains once again.

As he was knocking down a criminal he heard the vigilante chirp out some words which almost made him want to smack the teen.

“No problem, Sho-chan.” 

Midoriya felt exhausted as he ran up to Shigaraki.

“Too strong.” He activated his quirk, pushing adrenaline down. “He’s tired though.”

The leader growled and pointed at the flood zone. “Go and check that area out. You have permission to kill the brats if you feel like it, maybe if some of them die All Might will show up.” Looking at his side, Izuku could see a grin forming on the man’s face. 

“I’ll pass.” The teen muttered and pushed his poles into the ground, launching himself into the flood zone. 

The area was a large pond of water surrounded by a mesmerizing green landscape full of plants. There was a big rocky mountain in the side of the lake, holding up a gigantic water slide. In the middle of the body of water there was a sinking ship surrounded by low-tier villains.

Izuku deeply sighed. “The students are probably on the boat, and judging by the sinking speed rate of it they have about two minutes before it’s game over.” 

“My metal rods won’t impulse me enough to reach the boat.” He had bought those poles the day before and he loved them, but they were useless in this situation. They had a button on the top surface which extended them forcefully into the floor, making the propulsion happen. This could only be used if you had strong arms because if you didn’t then your body would be left behind. It worked for Izuku when trying them but it didn’t work for other people, so the weapon was somewhat special. They could also be used to attack or block knifes and were also heat resistant.

He touched a light grenade in his utility belt. “Heat-resistant? Hope they are explosion-resistant too.” His heart thumped loudly in his chest while he thought about the reckless plan. 

Izuku placed two explosives on the floor and started the countdown. He stuck his metal rods on the edge of the bombs, and when he heard it clicking off he extended his poles. The radius of the explosive wasn’t large, but big enough to hit Izuku’s arms, breaking his hoodie and damaging his arms in the process. He bit his bottom lip as he flew towards the boat, landing atrociously on the stern of it. His mouth tasted like copper.

Midoriya clicked his tongue loudly while he closed his injuries, with not enough stomach to see the total damage done by the grenade. He turned his arm trying to see the remaining harm that his quirk couldn’t fix, and found a second degree burn covering the entire back surface of both his arms, from his shoulder to the elbow. The hoodie was completely burned up in that zone and his skin was red and irritated, most of it peeled off and surrounding the injury. The flow of blood had stopped thanks to his quirk, but the vibrant liquid was still present in the deepest edges of the burn. The teen touched his destroyed skin and found it hot and sticky.

He stood up from the floor and went to the side of the boat, finding a student he had seen before. 

“Heyo!” He waved at her. “Seems like you’re in trouble.” The frog-girl looked at him, startled, probably too shocked and unused to this situation to react properly.

“I came here to help you.” He lowered his mask and pouted, putting it back up a second later. “If I really was on the bad guy’s side you would already be dead. You’re unlucky, being teleported alone and all.” 

She stared at him. “You came with the villains.” Asui said, approaching him slowly. Her voice was cautious, and the girl looked like she was about to attack him. 

“Actually.” He began speaking. “Let me introduce myself again. I’m Keres, your local friendly vigilante. I was contacted by the villains to join the attack but they played themselves.” He chirped quickly. “Now that formalities are over, Asui Tsuyu, let’s get out of here. I know you don’t trust me but i’m really just your only option.”

“How do you know my name?” She curiously asked. Tsuyu didn’t fully understand the situation, but Keres was right, she had no way of escaping. Her quirk worked best in aquatic surroundings, but her situation was terrible. There were dozens of villains in the water, and even if she jumped out of the boat, the other criminals had water-based quirks too. She needed a distraction, and quick.

“I’ve done my homework.” Midoriya laughed.

The vigilante cracked his neck loudly and grabbed a heavy grenade from his sack, spherical with a little chain that could be pulled off from the top. This one’s radio was slightly bigger than the other one but much more deadly. He threw one to the girl, she noting the disturbing burns on his arms.

“Grab me and throw this into the water. The damage will be enough of a distraction for the villains as we leave, they probably won’t come back after this.” The look Tsuyu gave him made him acknowledge what his words could be taken as. “Don’t think like that!” He waved his hands nervously. “It won’t kill them if we throw it in the water, but it can harm them enough to not be able to fight back. They will be forced to back out.” The teen explained as the boat quickly sank.

Tsuyu grabbed the boy with one of her arms, picking up the big grenade with her tongue, pulling from the chain. The girl jumped from the boat with an incredible leap and dumped the bomb into the water, creating a massive explosion in the lake. 

Izuku laughed as they landed in the grass and dashed across the zone, reaching central plaza. They both peeked at what was happening.

“The Noumu arrived.” Midoriya muttered, gaping at the creature, Asui completely freezed in place. The monster was of a really deep blue colour, almost black. His brain was completely exposed, his eyes protruding from it. His teeth were sharp and big, and his body was three times bigger than what a normal human being should look like. The vigilante turned his passive ability on, watching the red lights flow in strange ways. His body had a heart and a nervous system, but this last one was inactive . Blood was flowing to its brain, yet never reached it fully. There was no brain function in the creature. 

What irked Izuku wasn’t that, but how similar his lights looked and moved compared to a normal human being. 

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw Eraserhead fighting against Shigaraki, the first one careful to not be touched. Their blows were brutal and strong, completely different of Midoriya’s fight against Eraserhead. You could see how the villain’s aim wasn’t to win, but to maim. 

“Fuck, I told you to not irritate him.” Izuku thought to himself.

“Eraserhead is tired, he launched himself at a hundred villains in central plaza earlier. He won’t hold up much longer.” He muttered, trying to think as Asui listened to him attentively. 

Shigaraki moved carefully around Aizawa, and Izuku understood the villain’s intention. He was searching for an opening in his teacher’s defense. The teen’s eyes widened as Tomura successfully pinned him down on the floor, placing his five fingers on the pro-hero’s elbow. Midoriya gulped as the fabric of his costume began to turn grey, crumbling down to the floor as it revealed his skin. Tomura pressed his whole hand on it, breaking his skin to pieces.

Tsuyu gasped and Izuku placed a hand over her mouth, praying that the leader hadn’t heard it. Midoriya jumped out of his hiding spot as he pushed the girl’s head downwards, but didn’t intervene when the pro-hero tried to punch the villain on his chest, successfully getting off his hold. Three middle-tier villains went up against him once again, but Shouta was tired and Keres could see it. 

“Eraserhead, your specialty is surprise attacks.” He stated, looking at the hero. “Yet you still jumped into the fight... Was it for your students?” Shigaraki softly muttered as he stood up from the floor. “You’re incredible!” The villain said in awe. “Truly incredible…” 

The next seconds happened too fast. The Noumu dashed behind Aizawa, him being too tired to fully respond to it. Shigaraki pronounced some words, the teen too shocked to process them.

The next thing he saw was Aizawa’s body on the floor, unmoving, head covered in red sticky liquid. His characteristic yellow goggles were on the floor, full of blood. The Noumu was holding his body into the floor with brute force while Shigaraki laughed. The hero tried to move but the creature broke his arm with a light movement, making him scream in pain. Shouta moved once again but the Noumu broke his other arm too and crashed his head against the cement pavement.

The vigilante felt pain for the first time in years.

Izuku didn’t think as he stepped out to Shigaraki. Rage consumed his body, adrenaline pumping at full speed. The hero was still half-conscious as he saw the teen walk up to the leader.

“Oh, Shigaraki. That’s the Noumu?” His voice seemed so bored, but Midoriya was internally boiling up, mind becoming foggy. His quirk activated passively, watching the slow connections and lights of the leader. He was calm, too calm for what he had just done. Hormones were being transported non-stop throughout his brain, and although his quirk didn’t show him which one was it, Izuku knew exactly what was being created at such a fast rate.

Serotonin, the hormone of happiness and satisfaction. 

Tomura answered joyfully. “Yes, our ultimate weapon. The Anti-Symbol of Peace. Isn’t it beautiful, Keres?”

“Absolutely.” The teen said, smiling with his eyes. “And only you can control it?"

He saw Shigaraki’s red eyes across the hand on his face and they were shining with satisfaction.

“Yes, it’s my own personal toy. Maybe if you decide to join us I could get you one.” He brightly said. Izuku stared at him for a few seconds.  

“Shigaraki, have you ever felt what death tastes like?” The vigilante said as he tilted his head inquisitively.  

The villain looked at him for a second, totally blank. “Death has a taste?” He asked, fatigued. Shigaraki saw the vigilante’s black eyes light up, noticing a light green ring around his pupil.

He smiled with his eyes as he took out his right glove and softly placed it on the floor, lifting up his bare pale hand. 

The boy closed it into a fist, his nails digging into the palm of his hand, making red vivid blood flow out of his body.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Tomura’s body was filled with pain .

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 10.

Notes:

[Blank]

Izuku was the embodiment of rage. 

The teen activated his quirk on the villain, slowly ripping off the air out of his lungs. He felt every atom of oxygen being released into the air as blood poured from his nose at an alarming rate. Shigaraki’s blood started clotting around his hands and arms, creating insufferable pain while Midoriya felt claustrophobic, his respiration intensifying as the villain struggled to breathe. His quirk couldn’t control air properly and he knew it, yet deep inside he felt like that was what could make him suffer the most. 

The feeling of inevitable death.

Shigaraki fell to the ground, limbs not getting enough oxygen as Kurogiri arrived to the scene. His body started trembling and an oppressive feeling began growing on his chest as he began suffocating the mist-man. His eyes narrowed, ignoring the two men who were falling unconscious, their bodies slowly giving up. An image of his teacher being crushed into the ground repeated in his brain, hissing as he strained his quirk, letting out a strangled scream. Midoriya could only think about the pain. It was slowly ripping off his insides, consuming his energy and thoughts. His heart was thumping loudly, blood clotting his ears.

The particles stopped making sense to Izuku, the colours of the lights in their bodies mixing in together to form a deep black . He was being controlled by anger and pure survival instincts which were completely primitive, his brain screaming to keep going because the threat wasn’t over. The tug in his torso became stronger, making him gasp. His quirk didn’t talk to him, but he realised what he was doing.

“I’m killing them.” He thought, biting his lip behind the mask. His brain bitterly thought that it wouldn’t be the first time. Did it really matter, if he already was a murderer? They were people who threatened laws and society, so it wouldn’t be as bad as last time. He wouldn’t feel as guilty, he reasoned. Maybe he could even live with it.

Midoriya was suddenly hit by a somewhat nostalgic cold emptiness in his chest, one he had felt for almost eleven years. He tossed his head at the responsible of that feeling.

Aizawa was glaring at him, flaming red eyes digging into the teen while he was still being held into the ground by the Noumu. His face was covered in blood and sweat, black strands of hair damped in the sticky liquid. He opened his mouth, coughing. “That’s enough Keres.” The hero said with a strained voice, gasping for air as he blinked, filling in the missing space on the boy’s body.

The teen stared at him. He looked at his teacher, he looked at the hero he had in a pedestal since he was a child, destroyed in the ground in a struggle for air, demanding him to stop . Midoriya’s eyes recovered their characteristic vibrancy, his mask being slowly damped by crystal clear teardrops. This wasn’t Keres – the annoying and unbeatable vigilante – this was Izuku, the weak boy who desperately wanted to be a hero despite his past and quirk. A fragile person who wanted to save everyone but didn’t know how . He couldn’t hide behind an unrealistic mask, covering up the truth about him. Not anymore, and much less in this situation, when there were lives in the line that weren’t his.

Today, he couldn’t be Keres, the vigilante. He had to be Izuku, the hero.

He ripped off his mask and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie, smudging his entire face with blood. He turned to Shigaraki, who was recovering fast enough to gasp out some words.

“Noumu.” The man said with a shaky breath. The world paused for the teen, eyes widening in shock and brain working at a dazzling speed. The creature was fast, too fast to be evaded or dodged. Not even Iida with his engines could beat the Noumu at a running contest, and All Might would be challenged by it. But Midoriya did know something that he could beat the Noumu at.

Blood. That liquid is one of the essential things for almost every complex organism’s existence, and luckily for the green-headed boy, that red vibrant fluid also controlled the creature. So when Izuku didn’t hesitate as he stopped the blood flow that had just started to appear in the Noumu’s brain, he knew exactly what the outcome would be.

Silence. Not even a slight movement was performed by the creature, who was completely freezed to the floor. The Noumu seemed to have lost the ferocity that had when a command was inflicted on its brain, and was standing in the middle of the arena, unmoving. 

“I figured as much.” Izuku gasped out, his entire body shaking. The villain turned his head to the vigilante, who had a wide grin in his face despite the pain. “Noumu means brainless, but the thing has one. That means all the brain damage is done right?” He looked at Shigaraki with a cold gaze, watching the villain gape at his creature. “If you want your toy back then you’ll have to play harder, Tomura.” He snarled, preparing to fight back. 

Before the leader could react, an explosion hit U.S.J, marking Izuku’s time to flee. He sprinted towards Aizawa and grabbed his half-unconscious body from the ground, racing towards the entrance as he fought back the urge to vomit. Midoriya saw All Might enter the arena. Izuku’s quirk could have easily resolved the issue, blocking the creature’s brain completely until the authorities arrived, but the vigilante was feeling pain and that only meant bad news. 

“All Might!” He shouted, hiding his face against the hoodie. The pro-hero heard the alarmed voice. “The creature is a Noumu. It’s really strong.” The boy felt blood sliding down to his cold lips. “I’m holding it back for as long as I can.” The man looked at the source of the voice, a bloodied figure with a hoodie on. “Go, now.” The Symbol of Peace looked at the skinny teen for an instant before rushing into the main zone. All Might had to focus on the bigger threat, Midoriya thought. He wouldn’t attack him, much less now that he had warned him about the Noumu.

He let go of his quirk and was hit by absolute agonizing pain in his chest – sharp but constant strikes, torturing him – but the boy pumped his adrenaline back up to camouflage the suffering for just a few precious minutes. Izuku activated his singularity once more, blocking the Noumu’s blood flow every few seconds. He placed his hands on Shouta’s now pale body, closing the injuries that the hero’s physical state allowed him to repair. His healing abilities had always been a mystery to him – he neither knew how or in what manner it worked, he always assumed it was the platelets – but when he saw the man’s destroyed elbow slowly heal, even if it was just a bit, he had never been more grateful for his ability. He pushed his quirk and concentrated on his head and eyes, thinking about his teacher’s hero career. With luck, he would be able to get back into his night-time patrols in a week. 

Midoriya was panting, his entire body aching. He frowned as he looked at Eraserhead, heart sinking. 

“You’re safe now.” He whispered to his teacher, knowing he was still conscious even if his eyes were closed. “I will care for myself, so don’t worry.” Silent tears fell into the cement floor as he let out a sad laugh. “I know you will, anyways. You are just like that, aren’t you?” He gently placed the hero’s head on the ground, leaving his characteristic yellow goggles next to him. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” He stopped, silently muffling his sobs with his wrecked hoodie. “I don’t hate you.” The teen slowly reached his utility belt and took a vibrant pink sticky note, scribbling something onto it. He pasted it on the man’s healed chest. “But everything else I said–” He stood up of the cold floor. “–everything else I said came from the bottom of my heart, Eraser.” He wiped his swollen eyes with the long broken sleeves of his hoodie. 

His gag reflex kicked in instantly as he stopped healing the hero, his world beginning to turn around. He caught a glimpse of All Might defeating the Noumu. Other students started to group up in the main zone – Todoroki, Kirishima and Bakugou – and he let go of his quirk once more. The teen didn’t have his mask on so he placed it in his bloodied face, rushing into the fight.

“Am I interrupting something?” The boy snarled once he reached the conflict, making everyone turn around. “Shiggy, If I were you I’d leave. You know the chivalry is coming.” His now robotic voice filled the pavilion. Glares digged into Izuku’s body, making him uncomfortable. The students were freezed in place, unable to recognise him as an ally or an enemy. Midoriya saw All Might with the corner of his eyes. Blood was pouring from his lip’s commissures and steam covered the zone. 

“The rumours were true then, he’s losing power. The Symbol of Peace can’t move.” He thought, taking a step forward. “Here comes Izuku, trying to save the day.”

“I think our little chat was interrupted earlier.” He crossed his arms, his face wearing an apathetic expression. “Would you like to continue ?” The boy tilted his head playfully, the villain completely buying his bluff. If Midoriya used his quirk once more, he would not have the energy to escape successfully.

A deafening and terrifying noise filled the room, a bullet punching its way through Shigaraki’s leg, blood rapidly gushing out of the hole. 

“I was right, they’re here!” He happily turned around, seeing a horde of pro-heroes coming to the rescue. “It was a pleasure doing business with ya, Tomura!” He chirped as he raced towards the entrance, leaving U.S.J unnoticed when the chaos began.

Shouta blinked twice with only one eye, adapting to his surroundings. He touched the uncomfortable cloth under him and placed his free hand on his face, praying that his other eye was still in place. Instead of flesh he found bandages and sighed in relief. The hero looked up and found one of his arms broken and being held upwards, while the other was only lightly bandaged. He carefully touched his head – wincing in pain due to his sudden arm movement – but found his skull completely intact. 

“My injuries were far more extensive than this, so how?” He muttered to himself with a groan. His voice sounded rough and lost, probably due to all of the screaming and stress in the day of the attack. The pro-hero punched with his fist the button next to his stretcher to call the nurse.

When she arrived he told her that he immediately wanted to see Recovery Girl and Nedzu, but the woman looked at him confused. Shouta slowly realised that he wasn’t at the hospital next to U.A, where everyone already knew him and his demands. He sighed and asked her for his phone and the girl reluctantly gave it to him while she looked for the doctor.

“Nedzu speaking.” A calm voice came from the other side of the phone. Eraserhead never knew what to think of the principal. He was a smart animal , way more smarter than any human he had ever met. The hero sometimes wondered what would happen if Midoriya was tutored by Nedzu. The bear-mouse would probably be delighted with that idea, but Shouta didn’t know if he was comfortable with that, knowing the principal’s personality. It would help the boy become snarkier and probably smarter. It wasn’t good for his case.

“This is Aizawa, I’m awake. I have an important matter to discuss with you, could you come? It’s urgent.” He gasped out, aching from the bruises. Shouta remembered the Noumu, smashing his skull against the ground. He was a pro-hero and was used to traumatic events and situations, but that had certainly been something he wasn’t accustomed to.

“I’m already there.” The animal said, his voice revealing a hint of amusement. 

The door from his room strode open revealing the small principal and closed it behind him. “Of course he’s already here. He must have calculated it or someth–”  

“Is this about the vigilante, Keres?” Nedzu asked while he approached Shouta. The last mentioned tried to sit up, pushing a button next to his bed. He wasn’t surprised that the principal hadn’t asked for his well-being, not because he was heartless, but for quite the opposite. The animal had probably read his medical files every time he had the chance to, so he knew how Aizawa was feeling. 

“It is. But first, how are the students? And Thirteen?” He asked. “How long have I been unconscious?” He had been desperate to know the fight ended. Well, not exactly– the hero already knew All Might defeated the Noumu, and that Keres had carried him to a safe location while he was half-unconscious. He didn’t know if his students had been injured, or worse . 

“All of your students are fine, none of them had to be admitted to the hospital. Thirteen had some extensive injury in his head but they will eventually recover. You have been unconscious for less than a day.” The principal stopped, walking across the room. “Now, back to your vigilante, I’ll tell you the details once you recover.” He quickly answered, wanting to get back to the important topic.

The hero sighed in relief. “I wouldn’t discard the possibility of him being a U.A student.” Aizawa finally dropped the bomb. He technically didn’t have to involve the school yet, as he didn’t have any actual proof of him being the vigilante. He had the feeling he wouldn’t for a long time, so he at least decided to tell Nedzu, the smartest creature in this planet.

The rodent didn’t look very surprised, but asked the following question anyways. “What makes you think that?” He sat on a cheap chair next to the stretcher, placing his paws on his lap.

“Midoriya Izuku. In the general entrance exam he showed an incredible fighting ability and beat fifty other participants in one afternoon. I made him fight myself one of the first days of class, and he held up really well. I was going at almost full force at him yet we went back and forth for a few minutes, that’s pretty much the level of a third year. He is extremely smart and unchallenged by school from what Hizashi tells me. And lastly, his quirk.” He stopped to breathe.

“His quirk?” Nedzu inquired. 

“Yes, it’s blood related. He can close off injuries and create a lot of pain from what I’ve been able to see.” The hero stopped and looked at his boss.

“Which explains why most of your wounds were closed off when you arrived here.” He finished off for him. “Some students saw you getting hurt in the fight against Shigaraki but when the doctor evaluated the damage, those injuries were gone.” He breathed in. “Keres unfortunately escaped right in front of our eyes, he’s pretty clever.” Something in the animal’s tone made him think that he purposely allowed the boy to disappear, but perhaps he was just over-analyzing him. 

“Why would Nedzu even permit it?” The hero sighed. “No, of course he would.” 

They both stopped talking, the only sound being the slow but constant ticking of the clock hands. The teen would be in legal trouble, as well as the school. Considering he hadn’t killed anyone he would be charged with vigilantism. He broke several quirk laws, but he had never started a fight. If the hero’s calculations were right, Izuku wouldn’t leave juvie for a long time, ruining his chances of becoming a hero.  

Despite that, he continued explaining his theory. “Midoriya doesn’t experience any pain either, which justifies how Keres had second degree burns and was still fighting with all of his strength.” Nedzu lifted up a paw, stopping him to digest this new information. “I’m sure some students have seen his fight against Shigaraki.”

Nedzu nodded slowly. “The ones questioned by the police said he was choking on thin air, and Keres seemed severely in pain.” He explained. “We should assume it’s part of his quirk too.”

“Midoriya never revealed that ability to me.” He said as he shook his head. “But he could be lying about it too.” He breathed out. “After I told him to stop, he completely blocked Shigaraki’s command to the Noumu. I have no idea what he was doing, but it worked.” Shouta hadn’t forgotten about the boy’s painful glare when he erased his quirk. He had seen him place his right pale hand – full of blood and scratches – on his heart, touching the invisible missing space. At first he seemed enraged but his eyes slowly softened, leaving the hero completely flabbergasted. The kid looked happy without his singularity.

“Some of your more honest students said Keres was terrifying.” Nedzu commented. Aizawa’s trance ended abruptly, turning his head at the principal. “Asui Tsuyu was helped by him when she was surrounded by villains, she’s had direct contact with the vigilante and was the only one who said he was kind and helpful, although a bit too reckless.” The principal explained. “She wasn’t able to give any valuable information about him.”

“I’m not surprised by that, the brat can be pretty charismatic when he wants.” He closed his eyes.

Aizawa softly remembered the last words he whispered to him before leaving. 

“Did Midoriya go to school yesterday?” He asked, leaving those thoughts on the back of his mind.

Nedzu stared at him for a moment.

“No, he didn’t. From what Recovery Girl told me he left the day before with severe exhaustion and his vitals were all over the place. We can call his residence to see how he’s doing.”

The pro-hero grinned. “Of course problem child has an alibi.” He muttered as he closed his eyes once again.

“Eraserhead. Keres also left a sticky note next to you.” Nedzu handed him a bloodied pink paper. 

“I told you to not irritate the fucking man child, you suck.” Shouta snorted at the shaky handwriting and sighed as he made the paper into a ball, pressing it against his chest.

“I hope you’re okay, kid. Whoever you are.” He thought as he fell asleep.

Izuku exited U.S.J panting, and when he was far enough for his signal to work he took his phone out and looked at the time, praying Mai would already be out of school. He dialed her number with shaky fingers. The beeps seemed eternal.

“Zuku, I was worried. Where are you?” The girl asked the second she picked up the phone. The older teen wasn’t surprised by the fact that she was worried as he was supposed to be sick, at the orphanage. 

Midoriya’s breath hitched before responding. “I overused my quirk, I can’t move properly.” He gasped out. “Are the housemothers suspicious of something?”

“No.” The younger teen answered irritated, but with a hint of worry in her voice. “They think I’m taking care of you. Send me your location, I’ll pick you up.” Izuku was in a zone he didn’t recognise, the pavement was worn out and the buildings surrounding it had the same tattered style. Fortunately for him, if he was in the run-down area of the city it meant the orphanage wasn’t far. 

The girl arrived in less than ten minutes and lightly cursed when she saw her friend. Sakane managed to push the half-unconscious boy to walk until they close to the orphanage, and bought him a juice which he proceeded to vomit. The streets were completely deserted, most people still working or at school. Children and teenagers tried to stay all afternoon in class, since their lives at home weren’t ideal. It was sad and shocking realising how many people still suffered in modern society. Izuku had seen it all, from abusive parents to homeless children living on the streets, the local government doing nothing about it. Theft and murder in alleyways, corpses never being found, leaving families shattered and heartbroken. It was almost dystopian. 

“Midoriya, you have to enter through the window yourself. I can’t carry you. Can you close your injuries yet?” Her eyebrows frowned in worry. Her quick reaction was due to the fact that this wasn’t the first time she had to pick up Izuku from combat, but it was by far the worst she had ever had to deal with.

The boy quickly shook his head but stood up from the floor. He was in a bad state, his arm had a large cut and were deeply burnt, whereas his shaky legs were apparently fine over his pants. The vigilante’s face was covered in blood and his eyes were practically unresponsive, and although the girl hadn’t seen his torso she could imagine how it would be. She didn’t want to stare much at his injuries anyways.

“You’re lucky the ladies are completely oblivious.” She tells him. Midoriya often wondered if the housemothers were unaware of everything or they just didn’t care. It was probably the second one.

Sakane watched his friend climb up the fence breathing heavily, struggling to drag his body all the way up to the balcony. She sprinted to the second floor and helped Izuku, finally arriving to his room completely unnoticed. The boy plopped into his bed and briefly closed his eyes, resting. He waved his hand at Mai, telling her to leave, and she reluctantly did so. 

Midoriya began removing the bandages from his face without looking at himself, and took his hoodie off, throwing everything to the floor. The boy cracked his neck loudly, realising it had become a really bad habit. He disposed of his pants and mask, sitting down on the floor to take off his boots. He stared at the pile of bloodied clothes on the floor and changed into a plain black long sleeved sweater to cover up his burn marks and wounds, and some matching pants to not grab a attention while he went to the boy’s bathroom. Before stepping out of his room he placed a white medical mask on his face, covering up all the blood, and found Mai waiting for him outside. 

“I’ll escort you to the bathroom. Then we’ll talk.” She said under her breath. They both arrived to the boy’s restroom and she waited outside. 

Izuku decided to take a shower to rub the blood off because he was too tired to take a proper bath. He undressed himself but didn’t dare to look at the extended damage until he was sure all the blood had been scraped off. His torso was all the way from the collarbone to his stomach full of bruised patches and angry red flesh. His right forearm had a large cut “When did I get it…?” that was in the process of healing but he was sure it would leave some kind of scar, even if he closed it with his quirk. The back of his arms had second degree burns that would surely scar, and his legs were for the most part intact apart from some scorching on the surface of his soles.

He looked at his face and found dull green eyes staring at him.

“When did my contacts fall off…?” He thought as he examined his profile, feeling pleased when the only injury he found was a small bruise on the edge of his forehead that could be easily hidden with his now slightly larger bangs.  

The teen sighed as he left the restroom, putting his clothes back on. His friend escorted him back to his bedroom, and barricaded the door behind them. 

“Spit it out. Every detail, Midoriya.” She said as Izuku laid on his bed and took a deep breath in.  

“It’s a long story.” He muttered, placing an arm over his eyes.

“We have all day.” The girl retorted, sitting next to him.

[...]

“Eraserhead is going to know it’s you, Midoriya. It’s too obvious.” She sighed once the story was over. “You didn’t go to school today, you have a similar fighting ability to Keres and let’s not talk about your quirk.”

“But Izuku was sick all day. Believe me, the school will call the housemothers sooner or later, and as I’ve been here all day…” He let a big breath out.

“They’re not that stupid, they will know you faked it and escaped somehow .”

“Do they have any proof?”  

“Your injuries, Izuku, your injuries.” She replied exasperated.

He blinked a couple of times and looked at her. “Maybe I’m fucked.” 

“Oh, you definitely are.” She laughed.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 11.

Notes:

When injured, although I don’t feel the pain I do feel the stiffness. If my quirk is overused, my nose bleeds, my head hurts and dizziness starts. I eventually pass out.  

I am unable to close my injuries if I am severely exhausted. My body starts to tremble and shake uncontrollably. When I stop using my quirk after overusing it I actually feel pain. I don’t remember how pain felt like before getting my quirk, but I do remember burns weren’t that painful. Maybe not feeling pain for years made me extremely sensible to it? 

Izuku arrived to class with his entire body bandaged under his uniform due to Mai’s request. He was immune to the pain of his slashes and burns but cuts could get easily infected, so he allowed the girl to cover him up. He received some texts over the weekend from Insomniac, the informant asking every detail of the attack and praising him for his intervention. Midoriya smiled while he repeatedly read through those texts, remembering that what he did was for something, to save everyone.

Like a hero.

He was early to class, but this time Present Mic was the first one to be there. The teacher noticed the tired kid instantly, stopping him from going any further. Other students were cheerfully chatting in their desks, getting ready for their day.

“Midoriya, could you come here for a second?” The hero asked, voice extrangely low. Izuku approached him with slow steps, looking at the floor.

“Seriously, kid.” He said when the boy was close enough. “You have to sleep properly.” He bent down to Midoriya’s height, trying to look at his purple bruised eyes. The comment didn’t help a lot, Izuku thought. He was aware resting is necessary, but his internal mechanisms didn’t seem to be very concerned about it. 

“I know you didn’t come to class because your health was affecting your performance, Recovery Girl told me it was due to exhaustion. But did you sleep at all tonight?” His homeroom teacher asked, concerned and using his indoor voice to not upset his student. He was considerate enough to not let the whole class know about his terrible sleeping habits.

“Not really…” The boy muttered, looking at his right shoe and moving it nervously, making Hizashi sigh. “I promise I’m better now!” He exclaimed, looking at Present Mic’s glasses. The teacher couldn’t help but doubt his student when he saw his tired and shadowed eyes. 

The hero replied, his tone increasing as he pronounced the words. “Well, you better be prepared though! I have a big announcement!” He now shouted using his quirk, making the kid in front of him clap his hands against his ears instinctively. Midoriya returned to his desk with light steps and looked around, noticing the whole class was there already. 

“As you all know, a big event is coming in a few weeks.” The teacher stood up from his seat and beamed. “The U.A Sports Festival!" 

Izuku paled as other students cheered. “Fuck, I completely forgot about it.” He turned to Shinsou and found a bored expression on his face, but a light shimmer in his eyes. “He’s excited too.” He shook his head. “Of course, everyone is. I should be excited about it too, dammit.”

He lifted up his sleeve, twitching with the bandages that covered the scar on his right forearm. “I can’t use my quirk on the sports festival, not with Eraserhead and Nedzu on my tail.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “God, they even called the orphanage.”

The day after the U.S.J attack occurred the orphanage received a very cordial call from the school, asking how Izuku was doing. Fortunately, his tutors were completely oblivious and told the teacher the boy was resting all day and ready for monday. Midoriya, on the other hand, had a heart attack when they told him the one who called was the principal, Nedzu. It was clear that Aizawa had told the animal about his suspicions, why would he receive a call from the principal if it wasn’t for that reason? They could have had his homeroom teacher make the call, but no. Midoriya theorised that, for some reason, they also wanted him to know that he was now the main suspect.

Shinsou was completely thrilled by the news of the sports festival coming soon. He would finally be able to move up into the hero course, it was his chance. He turned to Izuku, knowing he would be excited about it too, but he only found anxiety on his classmate’s face.

Hitoshi stared at him, more specifically, his arm. He saw a tiny white bandage popping out from his pulled up sleeve. 

“Huh.”

It was lunch time, and Midoriya was not having it. His body felt like it was about to collapse, but he pushed himself to finish the school day, as going to Recovery Girl would mean game over. The boy slowly took a tray and Shinsou followed him closely, inspecting his friend’s behaviour. After choosing their meals they sat on a table, far-away from the entrance.

“Did you hear what happened at U.S.J?” Shinsou said, taking his chopsticks. “Class 1-A must feel like absolute prodigies now.” He snarled, taking an angry bite from his food.  

Izuku sighed, thinking about it. Fortunately Keres’ intervention was being kept under wraps, the media hadn’t said anything about a vigilante being at the attack. They all praised the class of aspiring heroes, and Midoriya had mixed feelings about it. Most of the damage-control was done by Keres, yet no one was ever going to praise him for that. Of course, the teen already knew the basis of his night job and he wasn’t going to complain. For him, seeing his classmates and teachers healthy was enough. 

He still felt a little bit jealous. Just a tiny bit.

“Hey, I think the event was pretty traumatic. Don’t do anything stupid.” The boy answered, half-smiling. 

“Yeah, I’m glad they had that reckless vigilante with them. Surely caused a scene.”

A beat of silence.

Midoriya choked on his drink, face rapidly losing colour after processing the sentence.  

“Excuse me what?” He gasped out, coughing.

The other boy frowned. “Haven’t you heard the rumours? Keres was there, you know, the vigilante. Apparently he air-choked the leaders or something like that.” He said, trying to resist the grin forming in his face. “I would have payed to see it.” 

“Oh.” Midoriya sipped from his drink. “He sounds neat.” He replied, unable to think of a less incriminating comment.

“You know what’s the worst part? Keres is a teenager, like us.” He stopped, looking at the boy in front of him, frowning. “He reminds me of you.” Izuku narrowed his eyes, focusing on his food. “He’s good at fighting too, but no one’s sure of his quirk. It’s probably air-related?” He whispered that last part. 

Izuku pouted. “Don’t compare me to a vigilante! I would never break the law.”

Shinsou arched an eyebrow. “Yes, sure.” His tone was sarcastic enough for Midoriya to notice.

“So,” The green-head began – trying to change the topic of the conversation – and took a sip of his soda. “what’s your quirk?” He stared at the purple-head with curious green vibrant eyes. Hitoshi glared back with a bored look, pronouncing his eye bags. He clicked his tongue as he scanned his friend.

“He thinks he’s smart, putting all that cheerful innocent vibe on. Everyone can tell you are intimidating.” He thought, placing a hand on his face, resting on it. “Accept it.”

“We’re enemies from now on, Midoriya.” He paused, taking a bite of his food. “I don’t gain anything from it.” The smaller boy had a sense of deja vú at that comment.

Izuku pouted. “Yes you do. I tell you mine.” He said with his mouth full of food. “Plus, I already have an idea of what your quirk is.”

The taller teen lifted up his eyebrow. “Really?” He paused, placing his chopsticks on the table and crossing his arms. “What is it then, genius?”

Midoriya’s aura shifted completely, his bright persona fading as he studied his friend. For a moment, Shinsou felt like a prey, being examined by a predator. The boy’s previously light green eyes turned dull, cold, calculating .

“What…?”

“Your quirk is mental-related.” He paused. “And it’s considered a villainous quirk, right?” His aggressive energy faded away as he sipped from his soda once again. “You told me the first day, no one believed in you because of your ability.”

The purple-head stared at him – about to say something – as Midoriya started to ramble once again.

“And when I say it’s mental-related, I mean it has to do with your brain. Possibly other people’s brain too, if it’s considered a bad quirk. Implant false memories on someone, maybe?” He stopped and stared at Shinsou, looking for a reaction. There was none.

“Maybe it’s brainwashing.” He smirked, resuming his food as he left his friend astonished.

“How?” He gasped, gaping at the boy. 

Midoriya frowned. “I told you, I’m a genius. Too smart for this world.” He smiled, and although it was directed as a joke, Hitoshi believed it.

Izuku was smart, but unable to down-right guess a quirk perfectly just based on looking at someone who seems like a normal human being, but the purple-head was his friend, so he knew details about him. 

Hitoshi was skinny and not that strong, which meant his quirk didn’t force him to stay fit or to have any kind of endurance in general. He couldn’t fight against robots, so it was non-physical, possibly a mental one if it only worked with organisms. He remembered his first conversation with the boy, and bingo . Mental quirk, non-physical and villainous. There were only a few possibilities, and Izuku gambled with them. 

It was also a bit of luck.

“It’s brainwashing, voice controlled. If they answer my voice I can make anyone my puppet.” Shinsou said, resuming his meal after the initial shock was gone. “Horrible, right?” He let out a sad laugh. 

“Horrible? That’s actually amazing.” Midoriya said, arching an eyebrow. “People are dickheads , Shinsou, your quirk is really useful in heroics.” He stopped and began to ramble. “Imagine all of the possibilities! Rescue mission, theft, kidnapping, anything really! All of that without fighting? That’s amazing. If you had to fight you could get some gadgets, capture weapons like Eraserhead! Oh my god, you should totally get a voice modulator too. Imagine being a villain and hearing your accomplice, you would answer it! Everyone would!” The boy started muttering, and Hitoshi found himself dumbfounded. 

“What’s your quirk then?” Shinsou abruptly cut him off. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy someone praising his quirk for the first time, but the green-head was sometimes suffocating . He would rejoice about those compliments later.

Izuku stopped muttering and quickly gulped down his food. He sighed, playing with the cutlery.

“It’s called Biocide. Allows me to close injuries and control the state and movement of blood inside an organism.” He practically whispered. “Not very useful, you see. Causing unadulterated pain doesn’t really scream hero.”

Shinsou frowned at that. “Midoriya, you can close injuries, that’s cool. I don’t understand the pain part.” He admitted. 

“Oh, yeah. By changing the state of blood I mean coagulation. I can create them in a second, and from what I’ve seen they don’t leave any damage to the body as long as I dissolve them quickly.” 

Hitoshi laughed. “You’re telling me you can stop a villain from moving in a fight, Midoriya. Sure, causes pain. Who cares? Snipe’s quirk is shooting , and that leaves lasting damage. Apart from that, you can close your own injuries, so people with knives are a joke to you.” He stopped, considering it. “Well, not really. You can still feel it.”

Izuku blinked. “I can’t. It’s a side effect of my quirk, I don’t feel pain.” 

Shinsou gaped at him and stood up, elevating his voice. “That’s amazing! You’re almost invincible!” He looked sideways and sat down, making sure no one saw his sudden emotional outburst. 

Midoriya started laughing, and this time was very genuine. “You’d be surprised to see how my quirk completely destroys me after over-using it. I have to learn to control it properly.”

The purple-head half-smiled. “Okay, sure. That’s why we’re here, right?” He paused, starting to clean up his tray. “To learn.” Izuku stared at him, nodding slowly as he threw away the remaining of his meal.

They both heard the bell and prepared themselves to go to class, but as they were trying to reach their room they found a crowd forming around other students blocking the side of the hall.

He freezed when he saw part of 1-A surrounded by a small crowd – Bakugou making a scandal about them beating everyone – and quickly stopped Shinshou from going any further, knowing exactly what the teenager was planning. 

“Don’t you dare.” He gasped out, grabbing the boy’s uniform.

The purple-head smirked, getting out of Izuku’s hold. “Shut up. Let me have this moment.” He walked into the crowd. 

“So, this is the infamous class 1-A? I was expecting you guys to be a bit more impressive.” He stared at Bakugou who was still throwing a fit. “Can someone please test him for rabies?” He sighed, no visible emotion on his face. “Seriously, is everyone this delusional in the hero course?” He snarled, staring at the boy. “I am pretty sure you know it, but people in the general department are coming for your places. Don’t start to think you’re special because you survived the attack.” He looked sideways. “You can consider us enemies from now on.” 

Izuku blinked a couple of times, speechless. “Did Shinsou…?” The green-head heard Uraraka and Iida whisper-scream at Katsuki, mad at him for making everyone hate their class.

“They don’t matter.” Bakugou loudly retorted. “All that matters is me beating them all.” 

Midoriya stepped into the crowd. It was an unconscious movement, droved by pain and resentment. He felt the need to stand up for himself.

“Keres in, Izuku out.” He thought, letting out a deep breath. Midoriya would breakdown at the thought of confronting Katsuki, but Keres would deal with him just fine.

“You sound like a broken record, Bakugou. Beating low-tier villains must have felt really good, right? Sounds like a nice boost to your already big enough ego.” He took slow steps and crossed his arms. “Were you upset about not getting all of the glory? Seems like another teenager was there to handle most of the attack. What was his name…?” He was close, facing Bakugou with cold eyes. “Right, Keres.” He ironically pouted. “What a pity, he took your moment. That’s all you care for anyways, right?” A grin began to grow on his face.

And for the first time in years, Izuku placed a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Go ahead and win the Sports Festival, your majesty. We will all cheer for you.” He lifted up his palm and Shinsou started following him, leaving the crowd. The silence was deafening and his voice resonated around the halls when he pronounced his last words.

“Victory can be bittersweet.” He said, leaving. “You will learn that one day.” 

Bakugou didn’t reply back.

The two boys left in silence until they were sure no one was hearing them. They ran into their classroom while no one was inside and they freaked-out internally while they stared at each other, too shocked to say anything.

“My heart is about to come right out of my chest.” The purple-head muttered as he closed the classroom’s door, leaning on a desk. “That was incredible.” He gaped at his friend, smiling.

“You were the one who started!” Midoriya pointed at the purple-head. “We’re so screwed, Present Mic is going to kill us.” He started to nervously laugh, although he didn’t find the situation comical. 

Hitoshi began giggling because it was hilarious. They both wheezed on their sits until the door was opened, revealing a visibly mad Eraserhead.

“Oh, Eraserhead!” The green-head said cheerfully – a hint of amusement still in his voice – and stood up. “I got told what happened at U.S.J, i’m glad you’re okay.” He gasped out sincerely. The hero looked better than what he expected, which drastically lightened up Midoriya’s mood. The arm that was half-disintegrated was plastered and one of his eyes was covered by bandages, but the hero didn’t look like a walking mummy, so he felt really good about that.

“Midoriya, Shinsou, with me.” He muttered, ignoring the boy’s comment. They both reluctantly walked up to the exit. “And it’s Aizawa-sensei, Midoriya. Don’t make me repeat myself one more time.”

The boy pouted but followed his teacher in silence to his office, his friend by his side.

The hero closed the door behind them.

“I’ve been told you’ve made a scandal in the middle of the hallway with my class and I would like to address it.” He stared at the purple-head while he sat down on his chair.

“Shinsou, you can’t imply that a classmate has rabies.” Izuku snorted, receiving a glare from his teacher.

“I’m sorry.” He laughed, placing a hand over his mouth. “But that was the best part.” 

Shouta hid his smile under the scarves. “You can’t declare a conflict between classes. That will be detrimental for your future relationships if you get into the hero course.” The hero turned, looking at Izuku.

“Midoriya, you shouldn’t spread the rumours even further, and you can’t antagonize your classmate.” He said, bored. “You two will be staying with me after class, doing extra work. And I am not open to negotiations.” He added, seeing the green-head was about to reply back. “That’s all. Shinsou, I have to talk to Midoriya, but you can return to class.” The boy didn’t even think about it and stepped out of the room, closing the door.

“Traitor.”

The hero sighed and sat a bit more comfortably on his seat. “Midoriya, can you explain me what is going on with Bakugou? You try to control yourself overall and your teachers don’t have any complaints about you, but when it comes to him you jump out immediately.” 

He let out a breath, nervously looking at his nails. “We know each other from a long time ago. Are you aware of what happened in the cafeteria the other day?” He waited, and his teacher nodded. “Yeah, of course you know.” Izuku shook his head, trying to focus.

“He knows me since I was born, so he met my parents. My father left us when I was diagnosed as quirkless.” Shouta raised his eyebrows at the new information. 

“I don’t remember much about the man, he was always busy and my mother didn’t really like him.” He explained. “Bakugou didn’t treat me well when we were kids because of my lack of quirk. I am not particularly fond of him, but we were kids, so I thought that maybe he changed.” He grabbed the sleeves of his jacket, crossing his arms.

“It seems like I was wrong.” He stopped to breathe. “He told the whole school about it, so sorry if I seemed petty but I just can’t handle him.” The boy gasped out, trying to hide his shaking. “I have feelings too.” 

His teacher looked at his dark tired eyes. “I understand. It wasn’t very grave, right? How he treated you.” He asked, not expecting an honest answer.

“No, it wasn’t. We just didn’t get along.” Izuku lied.

Midoriya’s words were apparently sincere, but his body said the complete opposite. Aizawa noticed it.

The teacher sighed. “Fine. Are you feeling any better?” He asked, and the boy nodded. Another lie.

“I should be asking that. Are you okay? Is it going to affect your hero work?” The boy said. 

“I’m fine. The doctors said I will make a full recovery.” Shouta muttered.

Midoriya gulped, joyfully realising how he was missing History of Quirks’ class. “Are the rumours about Keres true?” He whispered.

That comment made the pro-hero a bit surprised. “I am not allowed to disclose confidential information.”  

The kid smiled, narrowing his eyes. “So he was in the attack then? Nice.”

Aizawa sighed. “That kid saved a lot of people the other day.” Izuku tried not to beam at the compliment. “Are you a fan?”

Midoriya slowly nodded. “More or less. I admire his work, but I think he could stop breaking the law and wait to get a hero license. He must have his reasons though.”

“Reasons?” Eraserhead inquired.

“Maybe he’s tired of waiting for heroes to do something. He acts on areas that are not that wealthy and as someone who lives in that zone I am nothing but grateful towards him. Heroes don’t even step those places.” He explained.

“No.” The teacher said, making Izuku blink in confusion several times. “I know him personally, he’s doing it for another reason.” The hero retorted, making the teen feel uneasy.

“You know Keres personally?” He asked, eyebrows lifted.

“Unfortunately, yes. His personality is as bratty as yours.” The man muttered, hiding his face on his scarves. The green-head contained a squeak.

“Is that a compliment?” He tilted his head, smiling.

“No.” Eraserhead replied, annoyed. “You’re just extending this conversation because you’re bored in class.” Midoriya winced at the comment. “I’ve been a teacher for a long time, Midoriya. I know all of the tricks.” He stood up, Izuku copying him. “If you keep finding the content easy the school will make you do a test to enroll in the advanced program.” 

The vigilante clicked his tongue. “No advanced programs.”

Shouta frowned. “If you don’t like that option, ask the teacher for extra work in class. Don’t complain too much and don’t be snarky to your teachers.” He sighed.

“Why doesn’t he want to use his full potential?” He thought, analysing his student’s behaviour. “It’s not logical.”

“Thank you, Aizawa-sensei.” Midoriya sincerely replied, looking at the pro-hero. 

“You’re welcome. And don’t get in trouble again.” Eraserhead snarled, leaving his office.

When his teacher was out of sight he let a big breath out, his body slowly relaxing.

“I am so screwed.” Izuku thought as he went back to class, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Midoriya didn’t know everything was going to go downhill that night.

Chapter Text

The night was cold and rainy, quick footsteps splashing water on the puddles that were being formed in the sidewalk. A malnourished kid rushed to his house, covering himself with his school backpack in an attempt to not get yelled at when he arrived home, but it was already too late as he was soaking wet. He watched his own reflection on the glass storefronts as he stayed close to the buildings, trying to cover himself from the wet weather.

He was hungry, but his meal was in the trash, dumped in mud and sand. He knew he wouldn’t have another food until hopefully next morning, if his mother was sober enough to remember she had a son. The dejected boy didn’t blame her though, his heart too big for his unfortunate situation. The burns on his ribs where unpleasant, but they didn’t hurt. His bruised legs wanted a rest, but the boy kept going. 

He always did.

The kid saw other families through the glass panels of the restaurants, having dinner, sharing memories, and he wondered why didn’t he get to do those things with his mother too. Was it because dad didn’t love him anymore? After all, the boy knew it was his fault. He was useless, a broken creation. No one would want a worthless child. 

His socks felt heavy and wet. He would probably catch a cold soon. 

He silently opened the front door of their apartment, taking his damped shoes off. The place he used to call home was cold. The kitchen counter was packed with bottles of liquids he didn’t recognise. The kid had poured one of the crystal clear drinks into a glass one time but the flavour was dreadful, like cheap perfume. The after-burn sensation in his throat made him feel sick for hours, so he never touched the bottles again. Ashes covered the coffee table in the living room, the ashtray being too small for the amount of cigarettes being lit a day. Not all of them were his mother’s doing, but her friends too. Cans of beers adorned the old sofa. He knew the house wouldn’t stay like this for a long time. His mother would clean it in the morning, making the space visually pleasing one more time. The walls were decorated with pictures of his parents, no sign of a small child living in the house. It might seem difficult at first, but neglecting someone’s existence isn’t hard. The boy knew it well. 

He swiftly moved to the bathroom, careful to not make any loud sounds. The small child looked at the oval-shaped mirror, not recognising his own face. His eyes were injected in blood and stared directly at him, puffy and purplish from not getting enough sleep. His trembling lips were white, and even though he had been exposed to the rain, they were cracked and dry. He lifted up his quivering pale hands, his knuckles red and bloody from his sensitive skin. It wasn’t from fighting back the bullies. He stopped fighting back a long time ago.

A sound alerted him, his mother entering the bathroom. The woman looked peaceful as she stepped closer to her son. The boy’s eyes were wide with fear as she placed a hand on his shaky shoulder, stopping the shuddering. She stared at his son’s reflection in the mirror with pleased eyes as his arm turned into a dead grey colour and fell to the floor, crumbling into a pile of dust while blood poured out of his missing limb. His body started to slowly fall apart, muscles and bones dropping and disappearing in the blink of an eye. The kid wanted to scream and cry for help, but his voice was missing. His previously vibrant eyes were the last thing that disintegrated, everything becoming black.

He wasn’t scared now.

The child was used to being alone in the dark.

Tsukauchi softly sighed as he looked at the sky, dark clouds covering the stars. He took a sip of his warm black coffee, wondering if this would be a long night. 

The detective stood up from his burgundy office chair. He had been recently promoted, which meant a bigger room for himself, and even though it was still a small space he appreciated having it. Sometimes his colleagues were too loud and noisy, even when he stayed at work till late. 

But hearing two knocks on his window made him smile.

The detective wasn’t expecting Keres to appear that night, but he knew he would do it eventually. The vigilante didn’t respect the authorities or the law, sometimes not even pro-heroes, but Naomasa knew the teen at least trusted him. It was hard for him, because technically, the boy was a delinquent. He constantly broke the law, and didn’t seem like he was going to stop any time soon. The detective should be cautious around him, but at the end of the day, Keres was a child. A child with problems, yes, but he was a still a kid. 

He quietly opened the window, and signed Keres to sit down. The vigilante jumped from the ground with a side leap leaving the floor full of mud, making the detective growl.

“Keres, where have you been?” Tsukauchi muttered, handing him some baby wipes to clean his shoes. The teen took them carefully with his gloved hands, sitting on the window stool to rub the dirt off. Naomasa noticed he was wearing a soft black medical mask, not his metal one.

“I’ve been busy.” The vigilante said, accommodating himself on the frame. “You’re buddies with All Might right? Then you surely have heard of U.S.J.” He chirped, looking at the man with wide black eyes.

Keres knew about their relationship from that one time he was going to leave a note on Naomasa’s office, but found him and Toshinori’s powered up form – thank god – talking, and after he obviously eavesdropped the conversation, he popped up out of nowhere, slightly opened the window and quickly slid the paper across it. After that day he constantly mocked the detective for being his friend in his sticky notes.

“Yes, I’ve heard. It’s been in the news nationally, you’d have to live under a rock to not know about it.” He sighed, sitting on his chair again. “So, why do I have the pleasure of receiving you tonight?” He asked, although he already knew the answer to the question. Keres had infiltrated in the League of Villains, so he probably had some confidential data about them. 

That got a laugh out of the kid. “Oh, you know.” He stopped, rolling his eyes as he stood up. “I happened to be part of the complete operation, so I have classified information.” Keres said as he took a lemon-green notepad out of his utility belt, sliding it across the table. “This is all the information I’ve been able to gather from our meetings and my own investigation. I also have a recording of their base if you want it.” He winked, placing a USB on the table. 

“Keres.” His tone got severe, and he felt like he was punishing the kid. “You could have contacted the police about it. You could’ve told me . Did that idea even cross your mind?” He replied exasperated as the teen lightly shook his head.

“Now that you mention it. I didn’t even think about that possibility.” He said, making the man sigh.

“You can’t do that!” Naomasa exclaimed. “I know you don’t respect the police, but you could have told me. The school would have brought in more pro-heroes, and stop the attack altogether. What you did was absolutely unnecessary, Keres.” The kid’s eyebrows furrowed at the harsh words of the detective.  

“Sorry, but I can’t trust you either.” He explained, sadness dripping off his words. The detective felt a pang of guilt in his chest.  “I can’t trust anyone anymore, Tsukauchi. You have to try and understand me. I didn’t even know where the attack would be.” He stopped, nervously looking at the window. “I’m not black nor white. Not a villain, and not a hero. I’m in between, I’m grey.” He sighed. “And apparently, no one likes that colour.” Keres muttered, stopping to breathe one more time. “I can’t trust you because I know that in the end of the day, you’re after me. I can’t trust heroes either.” He let out a short laugh. “Hell, hanging out with villains is probably safer than with you guys.”

“Keres, what are you implying?” The man asked, concerned about the lack of cheerfulness in the boy’s tone.

“Nothing. I was ranting, that’s all.” He answered. “Everything I did was with my best intentions. I’m sorry if that inconvenienced you.” He quickly bowed, apologizing.

“No kid, look–” The detective began, feeling guilty. Yes, his decision might not have been the best, but the vigilante only wanted to help. He had been severely injured in the process too. If he was true neutral, like he said, he would have let the situation continue – it wasn’t the kid’s problem – but he went there and selflessly saved lifes and helped the heroes. That didn’t look like grey to Naomasa. 

What’s even worse, he had made the child feel bad about his actions, when his intentions were pure. He was still young, too young to be involved in these kinds of high-risk situations. There’s no course preparing you to know how to react when villains deal you an offer, yet this kid had played with them and successfully managed to get everyone alive out of the attack, getting useful information in the process. The last thing the detective wanted was to is antagonize him, yet that’s exactly what he had just done. The boy hinting that he felt safer around villains than heroes sent him chills down the spine. What kind of sick game did he have to go through every day, to be uncomfortable around heroes? Naomasa the realised. Behind his funny personality and rude comments, the kid was afraid.

He was so afraid. 

“I wanted to give you this information as quick as possible, before it was too late.” He cut him off, his eyes wrinkled up in a smile this time. “Gotta go, you know. Crimes to stop, laws to break.” He laughed, putting his feet out the window.

The detective frowned at the first sentence. He knew the kid enough to know that his words were always twisted in some way. If he told the detective that he was giving him the information now ‘before it was too late’ meant something much more serious was about to happen. “Keres, are you in danger?” He stood up, trying to stop the kid from jumping away, but the vigilante had already left. 

Tsukauchi gave himself a second to think. “Before it was too late...? Late? About what?” He gulped loudly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. 

“The league–” He whispered, closing the window. Naomasa rubbed his eyes, placing his cold hands against his face. His breath hitched, realising the implications of it. “No– I swear, you stubborn child. You could have asked for help.” He sat on his desk one more time, dialing a number on his phone. 

“Yes?” The man’s voice resonated against his ear. He sounded tired and sleepy. The detective’s call probably woke him up.

“We have a problem.” Tsukauchi said.

“What now?” Eraserhead sighed. “It’s late. I hope it’s important.”

Tsukauchi softly placed his fingers on a yellow folder on his desk. A name was written in bold letters.

“Midoriya Izuku”

“Keres is in immediate danger.” His tone got deeper as he pronounced those words. He heard rustling against his ear, like the teacher was already moving. “I want a team of pro-heroes scouting the area around my police station. I’ll give the alert here too. Don’t tell them it’s about safety reasons, the police doesn’t have to protect a vigilante. You have the order to capture him alive, Eraserhead.”

“Understood.” He hung up. 

“Please, Aizawa.” He pinched his nose, thinking out loud. 

“Capture him before the league does.”

Shouta wouldn’t consider himself as someone who is controlled by his emotions. For the pro-hero, managing his thoughts and worries was a big part of his job, and was absolutely essential for high-stress situations, like fights or disasters. Aizawa was used to this, as he had been part of the industry for almost a decade now. He also had to deal with twenty students every year and most of them were disasters, or villain magnets, so neither of his positions were unchallenging. To put it simple, making him anxious or stressed wasn’t an easy job.

But the detective’s call had put him on edge. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze for him. He knew what that phrase meant. The child had played with the League of Villains, and they wanted to play too. 

Almost without wanting to, Keres had began a game of chess, in which his only piece was the king. The other player still had his king, a tower and the queen. 

In a few turns, it would checkmate. And Shouta dreaded that idea.

He contacted almost every teacher at U.A, as being an underground hero didn’t allow him to establish any other relationships. He told them the basics. Their duty was to capture Keres, a high priority vigilante. The pro-heroes didn’t ask for an explanation – they never did if the order came from the police department – but he knew they would eventually ask what was so important about him. He hoped his brain could come up with an explanation when the time came.

The pro-hero strode across the residential area, leaping from building to building. The only thing the man wanted in that moment was to restrain that child and put him in police custody, where he would be safe. He could escape all he wanted in the morning, Aizawa thought, but he didn’t want to find his corpse in an alleyway. The mental image wouldn’t go away, making his heart beat loudly on his chest, a knot growing in his throat. The child’s body, spread on the floor, limbs disintegrated like pro-hero’s skin was once. Bruises and cuts covering his body, a puddle of red liquid beneath him. Aizawa could almost smell the faint scent of blood. When the forensics cleaned up the corpse, who would they find? A random boy who Shouta never met? Would it be his student, Midoriya?

He really didn’t want to know. Not that way.

Izuku ran across the park, levitating himself with his metal rods. He arrived to a set of buildings that were very close together and he closed his poles, placing them on his belt. The vigilante set his gloves hands on the edge of the nearest window, lifting his body up with his hands, and repeated this process, jumping across the buildings until he reached the top of the structure.

“How do I get home without getting killed, that’s the question.” He sighed, looking backwards. Earlier today the teen had noticed a strange figure following around, so he had changed his usual routine and visited the detective. He couldn’t stay put in one place if he didn’t want to get captured, so Izuku silently cursed as he jumped onto the next building, trying to get rid of that cold sensation in his nape. His ribs and arms were stiff, but making sure his wounds wouldn’t open again wasn’t a priority for the boy.

Midoriya dashed across the buildings, fear starting to grow in is stomach as he saw creeping shadows in the dark. He arrived to a closed set of buildings, with a park in front of him. His breathing started to get faster and his feet started to fail. Izuku was expecting to be chased by the league, he knew his actions had consequences, but he didn’t think it would be this soon. 

“I need to get down.” He thought, looking for an exit. His eyes grew heavy, the accumulated exhaustion hitting him instantly as adrenaline disappeared from his body. He looked at the green zone and noticed the dead silence of the city as a small purple spiral started forming in his back, widening rapidly. The teen saw the mist from the corner of his eye and gulped, foggy thoughts blocking his mind.

“Kurogiri.” He gasped out, limbs getting heavier. “Your boss is not very happy with me, is he?” The vigilante said as he turned around. Dizziness started to overtake the boy’s brain, slowly losing consciousness.

“This is game over.” He thought before his body gave up.

The dark swallowed him without a word.

Chapter Text

“Keres.” A cold, breathy voice whispered into his ear. Midoriya’s eyes kept shut, unable to open them up. He could feel the cold damp air of the room surrounding him, the unpleasant smell of mold contaminating his nose. His fingers felt stiff, and the rough material that was binding his hands together was slowly tearing down his skin, revealing irritated flesh. The tight pressure on his chest was caused by a rope, holding his arms and torso against the chair. Breathing became more and more difficult as his anxiety increased, making him open his eyes. The room around him didn’t have any windows and only had an opened door on the right, that being the only source of light. The walls were old and rusty and the wooden floor had a couple of lifted up planks, with lost nails around the room.

An old, half broken-down stool was placed in front of him, barely a couple centimeters from his own position. It was close enough to feel Tomura’s cold respiration, his scarred face not even a palm away from his own. His skin was dry, flaky like the rest of his body. Crimson glimmering eyes were digging into his skull, a grin growing in the man’s face.

“Ah, Shigaraki. Missed me already?” He said drily, voice rough. “You had the courtesy of taking your mask off too? You really could have asked me first thou–” His phrase was cut by a strong impact on his left cheek, sending sparks of pain through his whole body. The boy recoiled backwards, his reflexes trying to avoid the punch. He stared at Shigaraki’s bloodied knuckles, heart thumping loud in his ears. His quirk was missing.

“You ruined everything .” The man snarled, grabbing Izuku’s chin with two fingers and forcing him to look into his eyes. Midoriya moved his head, trying to get out of his hold, but the villain only increased the pressure, grabbing his entire jaw.

The boy stared at his shaggy blue hair. “Your plan was absolute shit anyways. Your little toy could be beaten by a stupid vigilante, and you wanted to kill the symbol of fucking peace?” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re delusional, Tomura.” 

The villain’s fist collided once more with Izuku’s neck, air rapidly leaving his lungs. The boy coughed loudly, a line of carmine blood spraying onto the cement floor. He licked his cracked and red-tinted lips, metallic flavour inundating his taste buds. 

“I’ll come back soon to have a bit of fun with you.” Shigaraki growled once he was next to the door frame as Midoriya breathed in heavily, pain overwhelming his body. “Don’t worry, you’re not dying any time soon. Not until i’m satisfied.” 

The door slowly closed, any trace of light leaving the room.

And the child was once again alone, in the dark.

Aizawa’s heart dropped to his stomach as he received Tsukauchi’s last update.

“A police officer that was scouting the area has spotted Keres getting sucked into a purple portal. The description matches with the one that appeared in U.S.J.” Shouta’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry, Eraserhead. The league has him.”

Aizawa growled into his microphone. “What do you mean you’re sorry ?” His breathing got faster. “A child just got kidnapped, start the procedures.” He climbed down the building, an incessant throb in his heart slowly suffocating his insides.

The man sighed. “We can’t say a child has been kidnapped by the League of Villains, Eraserhead. We could say that a criminal has been taken by them, but it wouldn’t change his situation. It wouldn’t be treated as a kidnapping case.”

“And what should we do? Leave that kid to die?” His tone got harsher as he ran towards the police station, steps getting even lighter.

“No, of course not. We will move Keres to the extremely dangerous list, and tell all heroes that he was last seen being taken by the league.” He breathed. “Of course, it’s not all shine and rainbows. That would mean high ranked heroes going after him and–”

“And any possible damage wouldn’t be a negligence, right?” He finished off for him.

“Right. Even if we say that he should be captured alive, we can’t grant his safety.” The detective clarified. “Eraserhead, I’m worried that your performance will be affected because of your relationship with him. I think you should let other heroes manage this case.” He almost whispered the last part, waiting for the reaction. 

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Shouta snarled, astonished.

“No, I’m not. I don’t want you to make any reckless decision.” Naomasa calmly replied.

“You’re telling me to sit this one out when that kid is being tortured right now. They’re torturing a fifteen year-old child, Tsukauchi.” He stomped into the police office, throwing his microphone to the floor as he entered the detective’s office. “He could be dead right now, and you’re telling me to rest ?” He said as he closed the door with a loud bang. 

“You’re not in your senses right now. Can’t you see yourself, Eraserhead? You’re worried. You’re sick worried for that child and I know you would stay up all day and night searching for him but you can’t.” Naomasa sighed. “It’s past midnight. Go home, rest.” He stopped, looking out the window. “Tell me if Midoriya Izuku goes to school tomorrow if we haven’t captured Keres by then so we can discard him as a suspect.”

“No, we can’t. Maybe the kid escapes on his own.” The pro-hero retorted.

“What are the probabilities of that?” Tsukauchi asked. “Escaping alone from the League of Villains when he’s still injured? I doubt it.”Shouta didn’t reply.

“Did you reopen his mother’s investigation?” He quickly changed topics, eyeing the file once he was calm enough. 

“No, I just checked all of it again.” The man said, sitting down on his chair. “If Midoriya has a blood-related quirk, his father could have killed his mother. After all, he has his father’s quirk, or at least that’s what I’m assuming. His mother had some kind of weak telekinesis.”

The pro-hero frowned. “His father? That man walked out of Midoriya’s life when he was a toddler. He has never seen him again.”

The detective sighed. “You can never be sure in these kinds of cases. Maybe she owed him money, or was resentful, who knows.” Naomasa pressed his hands against his eyes, rubbing them. “When this situation is over I’ll start investigating it in depth.” He stopped, closing the file and placing it on a metallic shelf next to him. “Just go home, Aizawa.”

“Okay.” The hero weakly muttered. “I’ll go home.”

Izuku’s eyes opened, startled by the sudden coldness being thrown at him. He stared at his cold shivering hands, cold ice cubes entering his clothes, slowly sliding down his injured skin.

“Morning, princess.” Tomura snarled. “Not really morning though. I was bored, so I came to talk to you for a little.”

The boy’s eyes closed again, uncomfortable by how close Shigaraki was. He knew it was an intimidation tactic, and it worked perfectly. He didn’t want that man close to him.

“Who said you could close your eyes?” He said, pressing one finger against Izuku’s right eye. The boy opened them instantly, still feeling inexplicably dizzy. The child-man maniacally laughed at the vigilante’s reaction. “You know, I wanted to talk about my plans. And about All Might.” Izuku gulped, breathing in and out with difficulties.

“Okay.” Midoriya finally whispered. He knew irritating the man wouldn’t lead to anything. He had to be empathetic, compassionate. Izuku knew that it wouldn’t help in his situation, but he was sure the man would not touch him if he kept the conversation going. Shigaraki loved being in the spotlight, and that was exactly what Midoriya was going to offer him. “Why do you hate All Might?” He child asked.

“I hate the ideal of heroes.” The man corrected, his voice slow and patient. “Justice is fragile, the system is broken. And for that same reason, I hate All Might.” Tomura whispered his name with disgust. “The symbol of peace, of justice. They treat him like he’s pure, ideal.” His hands moved, distancing the distance from the boy. “They create a false expectation.”

“False expectation…?” Izuku asked.

“The false expectation you’re feeling right now.” The man’s crimson eyes glimmered in the darkness. “The expectation of a hero coming to rescue you. But the world is cruel, Keres.” Shigaraki stopped, looking at the shivering boy. “No hero can save everyone. Not even All Might.”

Midoriya’s eyes widened. “You’re wrong.” His breath hitched. “I lost my faith in heroes a long time ago.” The boy whispered, making the man tilt his head, interested. “The false sense of security heroes create is what you dislike, right? Especially All Might. How he can keep a smile, even when lives are in danger. Even after lives are lost, just to keep the system running.” He stopped, his lungs still aching from the punch. 

“You hate All Might because he’s the pillar of the system.”

“Are you saying that you agree with me?” The man asked. Midoriya pondered for a moment, staring at his blood-curdling red eyes. 

He opened his mouth, letting out a big breath. 

“Yes. I agree with you, Shigaraki.” 

His words were sincere.

“Deku!” Someone screamed into the ear of the sleeping child. Midoriya slowly opened his eyelids, still heavy from not getting enough rest. This had become a recurring thing, not sleeping at night. The creeping shadows approaching him, figures being formed in the dark. He would never sleep until he stopped seeing those creatures, he thought.

“What do you want Kaccha––” His phrase got cut due to a loud sound, a hand slapping the desk in front of him. The green-head flinched instinctively, pushing his body against the chair’s backrest.

“You know what I want!” He exclaimed. “All you do in class is write in your stupid notebook and sleep, who the fuck do you think you’re?” Izuku sighed, not understanding what the explosive child meant. Was this an excuse to beat him up? Why did he even care? “Do you really believe you can be a hero, you useless fuck? You can’t even get good grades now.” Katsuki laughed. Midoriya’s grades had dropped, but that wasn’t new. The kid’s brain was a rollercoaster, sometimes leaving the exam sheets completely blank, and others getting perfect scores. His teachers had expressed concern at first, but they slowly deemed him as a failure. “He cheated.” They said when he suddenly got an A+ after a streak of five zeroes. Naturally, this wasn’t a lazy student who sometimes cheated on tests, but Midoriya’s brain was always foggy, so he believed them. After all, he was pathetic. 

Izuku hummed, standing up of his seat. “No, I don’t believe I can be a hero. Would you drop that already, Kacchan?” He complained. It was a lie, of course. Deep in his heart, the boy desperately believed he could be a hero. Would All Might think the same, though? “Do you really need an excuse to hit me? Does that help you sleep at night?” He knew his comment had been excessive the moment he received a punch on his already bruised up stomach, the strength of it sending him against the empty classroom's wall. Izuku had been a quiet and timid child, at some point. He thought that being quiet would make the bullies go away, but they took his silence as him being too weak to come up with an answer. His next strategy was to be polite and nice, but his stuttering made them angrier, hitting him harder. Now, he hid against snarky comments, even if he received a punch or too. He could at least keep his dignity this way.

“Shut the fuck up, Deku!” Katsuki screamed, vibrant explosions popping into the air. They were beautiful, Izuku bitterly thought. They would be even prettier if they were used for a noble cause. Midoriya had learned the simple but hurtful feeling of burns over the years. The tingling sensation of the skin being scorched, the sweet scent of nitroglycerine in the hot summer air, the sticky feeling that would leave in his burnt body.

So when that familiar experience came, he closed his eyes, already knowing what to expect.

Izuku recovered consciousness not long after, remembering his situation. “Fuck.” He muttered as he eyed the closed door, the room too dark to see anything other than his cuffed hands. The boy was still wearing all of his clothes except his gloves and his hoodie was in place. The dim light of the room didn’t allow the villains to look properly at his features, he thought. 

He rustled with the thick rope that was holding his hands together, trying to make the hold looser. Tears fell down his dull eyes, wetting the soft material of his hoodie. Midoriya tried standing up but his body was tied up to the chair, this one being too heavy to be lifted up in his current state. He licked the salty drops that were falling on his lips, his body shivering from the cold air of the night. The vigilante remembered the sweet words his teacher had told him in the entrance exam, holding back a sad and bitter smile.

“Get ahold of yourself, you have a fight to win now.”

“I feel sleepy, more than usual, so I’m past my patrol hours. It’s four in the morning?” He whispered, trying to ignore his stuttering voice. “I can’t ask Mai for help, she’s asleep. I don’t know if my microphone–” The boy straightened up, noticing how the sounds were muffled in his right ear. His eyes glimmered of relief in the dark room. 

The vigilante looked at his hands and started to frantically move them around, loosing it up. He bit his hoodie, sliding his left hand down the rope, skin being ripped off as he got out of the hold. He threw the rope across the room and touched his left hand with his right, hissing at the superficial damage. The boy shook his hand, cooling the irritated skin down, and grabbed the rope holding him together with the chair. It wasn’t as thick as the other one, but it was tight enough to not be able to move. He bent, pushing his aching body down to lift up his pant, revealing a small knife under his socks. After a few minutes of cutting he sliced the ropes and he was able to move. He tried activating his quirk, but as he expected, nothing was there. The veins in his arm hurt, which meant someone unqualified injected him quirk suppressants.

He pressed the communicator button in his earphone. “Call Insomniac.” He muttered, hoping the informant would be awake. The boy touched his cheekbone, hissing. A bruise was forming there and it wouldn’t be easy to cover. 

“Hmm?” A robotic voice softly said into his ear. “Can’t sleep?”

“Well, yeah. I got kidnapped by the league.” He said, pressing his palms against the wooden door. “Could use some help.” He whispered.

“YOU GOT KIDNAPPED BY THE WHAT?” The other teen yelled into his right ear. 

“Why are you so surprised?” He winced at the loud voice. “I will send you my location, but this is not their base. It must be an abandoned building, somewhere to keep me while Shigaraki tortures me or something.” His pale fingers found the doorknob, heart beating loudly on his chest.

He dashed through the rotten hallway and heard voices far away, cold fear entering his system. He quickly got into the next room, closing the door being him. This one had a window that directly lead to the street. The area seemed poor, but he recognised it. Midoriya scanned the room, finding his utility belt on the ground next to a pile of trash. 

“Don’t come for me though. I think I know where I am.” He whispered, placing the belt back on. He heard feet stomping into the second floor. “Fuck, I have to go now.” Tomura slammed the door to his room, running up to him with arm and fingers completely stretched out. Midoriya opened the window, Shigaraki dashing to his side. Izuku jumped.

Pain. 

The boy drowned a strangled scream, his side rib slowly disappearing when the villain touched his thorax – next to his left lung – before leaving with his entire palm, disintegrating his flesh. He felt blood covering his costume as he ran through alleyways, muffling his sobs with his right arm.

“Keres, what happened?” His voice sounded alarmed.

The boy sat down in the side of a building, in a closed off street. He rested his back on the concrete floor while he tried to regulate his breathing, excruciating pain clouding his brain. 

“I’m kinda bleeding out now.” He mouthed, covering his injury. “Disintegrated next to my left lung.” He gasped out, his body twisting in absolute agony. 

“I’m picking you up. Send the exact location.” The taller teenager said with no hesitation and hung up, Izuku sending his position through a text with shaky red fingers, leaving his screen full of blood. 

Midoriya carefully lifted up his hoodie, seeing how severe the injury is. “Shigaraki’s quirk must be time-based, because this isn’t as bad as Eraserhead’s wound.” Was the only coherent thought he could elaborate. His flesh was a mess of blood and pumping muscles, but there were fortunately no visible bones. His skin was cracked on the sides, like the soil when there’s a severe drought. Izuku tried to turn his quirk on, smiling as he found that part of it was recovered. He was satisfied when it seemed like the injury could heal on its own, looking like a large slash of a katana having split his skin apart. It would need stitches, but it wasn’t as bad as it was before. The wound didn’t stop bleeding and his quirk was at his max healing point, so he firmly pressed his hoodie against his open injury in an attempt to stop the red liquid from coming out.

Not long after Izuku’s world became dark, losing consciousness.

Shinsou watched as his green-headed friend profoundly apologizing to Ectoplasm for arriving late to math class as he promptly sat on his seat, getting his books and pens out. The taller teen placed a hand in his mouth – covering up a smile – and continued paying attention to class. Eraserhead opened the classroom’s door, the students too focused on the lecture to notice. He scanned the room before leaving quietly, his eyes lingering on Midoriya for a while.

Hitoshi did notice his friend’s bruised and burned up wrists when his sleeve slightly lifted as he wrote in his blue notebook, as well as he bandaged left hand. He also saw the remainings of dry blood on his collarbone when he loosened up his tie, eventually putting it on his backpack.

Lunch came over without any incidents and both of them opted to have their meals outside of the cafeteria. 

“Midoriya, I think our conversation with 1-A must have sparked up our popularity.” He said with a faint smile on his lips. “Maybe we should avoid contact with other students for the time being.” The teen took a sip of his milkshake, looking at his friend.

The awfully quiet boy nodded, buying a quick snack from the vending machine. They walked along through the halls silently as they reached a little tree on the back of the school. The two students sat down, opening their meals.

“What’s up with you today?” He asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Nervous because of the sports festival?” 

“No, it’s not that.” The green-head muttered, his voice raspy and distant. “I’ve just had a rough night, sorry.” He said as he dreamily stared at a flower.

“Hum.” Hitoshi said with his mouth full of food. “Are you sure you’re okay though?” He asked frowning.

“Yup!” The boy exclaimed with his green orbs lighting up a bit. “Don’t worry about me Shinsou, one night is not going to kill me. Plus, you’re not the one to talk.” He stared his friend’s eye bags, which are even worse than his.

“Right.” The purple-head stood up, throwing away his plastic container.

“No, a sleepless night won’t kill you. But getting yourself kidnapped and severely injured in just one night might take its toll on, Keres.” He thought before returning to his friend with a grin on his face.

Chapter Text

The warmth of the bar was suffocating. A man sitting on an old red stool played with the short glass in front of him, filled with good-quality gin. His appearance didn’t fit in with the surroundings, his hair pushed back with gel, an expensive suit framing his well-toned body. With his free hand he firmly held a travelling suitcase, worried that someone would take it when he wasn’t looking.

Strangely, though, he didn’t feel out of place.

The bar was quiet for a friday evening. Other customers sat far away from him, his aura of intimidation pushing them away. The bartender’s misty eyes scanned him from time to time, trying to guess what a man of his status could want from a bar like this.

The man’s bored dark eyes stared at the mixologist, straightening up his back in the process.

“I’ve come to talk to you know who.”

Ah, so that was it. The bartender thought. He should have guessed it earlier, judging by his luggage and attire. He nodded, guiding him to a closed section of the bar, where a younger man was waiting, expectant. 

“You’re back earlier than what I expected.” He muttered, his face covered by a hand. “Missed your family already?”

The man barked out a deep fake laugh, and smiled. “You could say that. I was wondering how my boy was doing.”

The other man hummed. “You have business with Sensei?”

“All For One.” He smiled. “Yes, I do indeed have business with him. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to him.” He stopped, his face turning more serious. “Privately.”

Silence filled the air.

“Sure.” The younger one finally said. “Kurogiri, take him to Sensei.”

Shouta had never run so fast in his life. The moment Ectoplasm sent a message to the teacher’s group chat mentioning that Midoriya had arrived late to class the underground hero felt his heart stop. That fucking kid, he thought. When Izuku hadn’t been seen in homeroom by Yamada, he was already packing up his things to find the kid himself. Hell, find the vigilante himself. Because that was clear. Midoriya wasn’t there, Keres was missing. That plus all of the little hints and proof that he had been accumulating made him arrive to a clear, solid conclusion:

Midoriya was Keres. 

But then the kid showed up. His excuse was that he had fallen asleep. As simple as that.   

Of course, Eraserhead didn’t buy it. So he ran towards his math class, abruptly opened the door, stared at the dead looking boy for a minute, and then closed the door.  

Yes, everyone was going to have lots of questions for him, but he didn’t give a single fuck in that moment. He released a deep breath.

He didn’t know where to start. Keres had been kidnapped, possibly tortured and injured in one night. No time to sleep, eat, do homework or prepare the literature exam today. But of course, that didn’t matter, because Izuku would ace it anyways.

Dammit. 

The kid had looked absolutely destroyed, but that was general Midoriya behaviour, so he couldn’t really get anything out of that. So Shouta arrived to his second important decision: he would have to follow Izuku all day until gym class. 

And so he did. 

Midoriya dreaded gym class.

It was possibly the riskiest class of them all considering his physical state, and now that Shinsou was suspicious of him too for some reason, he had to be especially careful. His stamina had been affected due to all of the injuries sustained in the past three days, too much for the average person to handle. Luckily the vigilante didn’t have to worry about painkillers overdose, but instead had to always check his injury because they could possibly rip apart in any moment without any alert.

He yawned as he slowly walked through the hallways, getting to the locker room. Like per usual Izuku wasn’t going to change in the middle of the room, where everyone could see him, and more importantly his wounds and scars. He had woken up in an abandoned building, his body patched up by someone who clearly didn’t know how to treat injuries correctly. A sticky note was pasted on his forehead, explaining how Insomniac had picked him up but had to leave due to real life issues. After that, he went to the orphanage, changed and ran towards school.

What an exciting morning.

He strode to one of the toilet stalls, locking himself. He breathed deeply, pressing his back against the metal wall. 

Izuku slowly took his blazer and shirt off, revealing his broken body. His entire abdomen was cleanly bandaged with purple bruises spreading throughout his frame and his arms were still scarring from the burns, with his right forearm injury still not completely healed either. His neck was starting to bruise on the lower zone so he was lucky on that part, although he could always use some foundation to cover it up. His cheek was bruised under the mismatched makeup. He had never been hit on his legs and the only visible injuries he had were a couple of bruises which would go away in a few days if he was lucky.

The boy threw his gym uniform on, with his jacket too. The bandages covering his cut were visible with short sleeves, and you could see the beginning of his burn scars too, so Midoriya would have to stick with the jacket for as long as possible. He didn’t wait for Hitoshi, too on edge at that moment to think about his friend.

The vigilante’s brain was fuzzy, filled with emotions and anxiety from the previous night. He had to be constantly worried about his own safety, at the same time keeping several secrets without completely breaking down in front of Eraserhead, who he also had to be aware of. His performance couldn’t drop physically or academically, as that would be a huge alarm for his homeroom teacher too, who probably got told what to expect of Midoriya.

So this class was going to be fun .

Izuku felt his head burn as he arrived to the training area, an indoor space filled with a large running track and hard judo mattresses. This zone was separated from the main building, in a industrial shed shaped building, but much more modern and sophisticated.

The boy cursed softly when he noticed the afternoon was pretty warm and that none of the students were wearing their sports jacket. He calmly started to warm up as the rest of his classmates arrived. All of them were silent as they prepared themselves, Aizawa staring intensely, so Izuku mimicked them without thinking it twice.

“You didn’t wait for me.” His purple-headed friend muttered behind his back, starting to stretch too.

“Sorry.” He said clenching his jaw. “Forgot.”

Shouta coughed a couple of times, calling for their attention. “I want all of you to run eight laps.” He said, crossing his arms. “Then you’ll play a game.” He paused. “And no, you don’t decide the game.” Their teacher said, looking at one brave student who was giving him puppy eyes.

Izuku gaped at the circuit with the rest of his classmates. A lap could be the equivalent of a complete football stadium. 

“And if I see you slacking out, I’ll add a lap more.” He glared at his students one by one, staying what seemed like too much time on the green-head. He activated his quirk, pushing adrenaline up to keep him going for the whole class.

The entire class of 1-C started running, each at their own pace. Midoriya started jogging next to his friend, soon losing him after a couple of sprints he had to do because of Aizawa’s angry stares. 

“Thank god I still have decent stamina.” He thought, starting to pant after his fifth lap. “I might collapse after this, who knows. Goodbye world.” The boy sighed, careful to not push his quirk. The impact of the suppressants had disappeared hours ago, but Midoriya didn’t have time to check what were the possible side effects of these drugs.

After his seventh lap Izuku started to feel sick. His ankles were lightly buzzing, which wasn’t at all a good sign. Dizziness hit him like a bullet, sweat covering his forehead but feeling extremely cold. He finished his last lap with a quick sprint, covering the entire field in a matter of seconds. He was the first one to finish and with a great advantage over the rest.

He didn’t look at his teacher as he sat down behind him, on one of the gym’s benches. 

“Midoriya, you should probably take off that jacket.” He muttered as he wrote Izuku’s scores on his notepad.

“No.” The boy gasped out, making the pro-hero turn around, concerned by his tone. 

“What is going on with the kid?” Shouta thought, approaching him slowly. “Last day he wasn’t even a bit tired, and now he’s a mess because I upped the level by two laps?” 

Even if people weren’t aware of it, Eraserhead was a really good teacher. He knew how to recognise the talents and weaknesses of students, easily exploiting their abilities while correcting their flaws. Aizawa took pride in his work, and when he saw his most troublesome student – and that’s a lot, because he’s the homeroom teacher of 1-A – as pale as a snowflake and shuddering like crazy, his instincts sent alarms violently.

The pro-hero bent down, looking at the kid in front of him. “You look pale, Midoriya.” He said, looking at his hands. “Did you get any sleep last night?” He muttered, worried.

“I don’t like being interrogated.” The teen growled, pushing his head back. His gym shirt slid down, revealing a purplish tone on his collarbone. The hero furrowed his eyebrows, analysing the kid even further. He noticed the difference of colour between his nose and cheek. The teacher contained a deep breath.

“Please, don’t tell me…” He thought, quickly sliding a finger across the kid’s cheek. A spot of makeup stained his hand.

“Midoriya.” He called. The boy didn’t reply.

The pro-hero sighed once more, sitting next to him on the bench as most of the students finished their fifth lap. He eyed his student with the corner of his eye, not surprised to see him fidgeting his hands and feet. 

He slapped his hand on the bench, calling for his attention. The kid whipped his head, flinching.

“Kid, you look like you’re about to pass out. Can you at least tell me what happened last night? Or why you’re acting so off today?”

“It’s confidential.” Izuku whispered, forcing Aizawa to hold back a smile. 

“Okay, can you tell me why you feel sick then?” He asked, focusing his attention on his student. “That can’t be confidential.”

“Eeh.” The kid gasped out. “I have a theory, and that’s confidential.”

Shouta wanted to cry. “Oh come on.” He stops, trying to think of a private thing that could make him feel sick. “Did you do drugs?” He asked. And he really wanted to know the answer to that question. Of course, the kid wouldn’t tell him the truth, but if he was really kidnapped Aizawa wanted to know if they had used any drugs on him. They could potentially harm his health. 

The kid looked to his side, breaking eye contact. “I don’t really have the money for that.” 

“Makes sense.” The pro-hero stopped, searching for visible injuries. “Are you really not going to take the jacket off?” The pro-hero said looking at his stopwatch, and saw the child shake his head. “These kids are slow.” He muttered out-loud.

“Did the hero course do these exercises as well?” He asks curiously.

“Yes.”

“So?” The boy pouted.

“So what?” The hero asked with a smug look on his face.

“Oh come on. How did they do, compared to us.” His student insisted.

Aizawa really didn’t want to tell him he was the fastest of them all, even if he wasn’t in his prime condition.

“I can’t tell you, the sports festival is coming soon and that would put your classmates in disadvantage.” He muttered, clicking his pen against the notepad. 

“I’m not going to win the sports festival.” Midoriya whispered suddenly. Aizawa turned his head at him with widened eyes.

“Why do you say that?” 

“At best, I end up second.” The kid continued, ignoring his question. “Depends on who I’m paired up against in the third round. Can I still get into the hero course if I end up second?”

His teacher hummed. “You have to do your best.” 

“And I will. But unfortunately my best is second place.”

“Who do you think will end up being the winner then?” The man asked, interested.

“Bakugou.” 

His teacher narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know all of the classes though. There’s Todoroki, for example.” 

The boy shook his head. “I know everyone , Aizawa-sensei.” He explained, his voice getting deeper. “I’ve been doing my research. Todoroki refuses to use his fire, so beating him until exhaustion would be everyone’s best bet. Uraraka would probably put up a good fight against Bakugou if he’s paired against him, but his quirk will be too powerful. Yaoyorozu’s quirk is incredible, but will be eliminated quickly because of the set up.”

His teacher looked at him, making Izuku continue. “If you gave me all of the match-ups now, I would predict the winner, but all of the possibilities come up to one. And that’s where I lose.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” The pro-hero asked, shaking his head. “Everything you say has a reason behind it. You care a lot about your words.” He stood up, seeing that most of the students had already finished. “What’s the reason behind this information, then?”

The kid looked at him with a tired expression. “I’m sure the teachers place bets, not with money but with school-related stuff. If I were you, I’d vote for Bakugou.”

“You aren’t being honest.”

That took a laugh out of the kid. “Oh, Eraserhead.” He said, smiling at him with bright eyes “Was I ever honest?”

His smile was fake.

Chapter Text

Class was ending and as everyone was leaving Aizawa held Midoriya from his jacket, not allowing him to run away. Once all of the students were out of the pavilion he sat the kid down on a bench, giving him a bottle of water. No words were exchanged as the vigilante slowly recovered from the class, his limbs almost unresponsive from exhaustion. 

Shouta took the remaining water in the bottle and poured it in a towel, handing it to him. The boy sighed as he delicately rubbed the makeup off his face. He wasn’t surprised to see his cheekbone covered in a dark purple tint, hints of blues surrounding the bruise and growing towards his temple.

“Are we going to talk about who did that to you?” The hero quietly asked, staring at his green eyes. Somehow, the injuries and his weak state made him look like a small child.

The small child he’s supposed to be, Aizawa remembered.

The kid shook his head. “I got into a fight.” He stopped, breathing in deeply. “A girl was… in danger. I had to step in. But I was stupid. They were too many.” Izuku sighed. “I won’t get in trouble for this, right? I just couldn’t stay there and watch it all happen!”

The hero’s lips twitched. “Midoriya, you’re a good liar, but you know I can’t believe you right now.”

The teen raised his eyebrows. “Then what happened? Did I hit myself or something?” 

The teacher shook his head, placing the palm of his hand on his forehead. He was burning up. “I know you’re injured under that jacket. Let me treat your wounds and I won’t make you go to recovery girl.”

The kid’s eyes drifted towards the exit once more. “I’m fine.”

“They could get infected.” The hero muttered against his scarfs.

“I have a healing quirk. I’m fine.” The kid’s eyes widened. “Wait, If I stepped into that fight, does that mean I’m a vigilante now?”

Shouta wanted to slap the problem child in that moment. He was playing logical ruses with him, and that was his job.

“You are. Come on, I’ll arrest you.” The teacher said, standing up. Izuku laughed, his body shaking as he mimicked the pro-hero.

“Uh, uh. I didn’t use my quirk so no crime committed.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “You know how vigilantism laws work then?” He stopped. Oh, let’s play his game. “Let’s say you are a vigilante.”

Midoriya widened his eyes. “Okay.” He laughed. 

“If you were…” The pro-hero stopped, carefully choosing his words. “taken by some villains.”

“What, like kidnapped?” He interrupted. 

Shouta sighed. “Yes, kidnapped. Who would you ask for help, if you had the chance?”

“Well, if I had a family I would totally call them first. Because, that’s what families do, right?” The kid explained. Aizawa tried to not feel his heart break into a million pieces. He doesn’t know or remember what a family is like. “But since I don’t have a family I would call another vigilante. Or someone who I deeply trust, since they would probably see me…” Midoriya’s face paled. “Oh shit.”

“What’s wrong?” The teacher asked, amused from seeing him break his facade. 

“Nothing!” He screamed. “Absolutely nothing. Anyways, that’s what I would do!” The boy said, wiping his sweaty hands against his gym uniform. His smile was nervous now, and the teacher was very confused.

“Alright…” Eraserhead muttered. “You wouldn’t call the heroes?”

“Are you out of your mind?” He huffed. A “ping” sound interrupted him, coming from Aizawa’s back pocket. 

He reluctantly unlocked his phone.

Nedzu: I want to have a little chat with Midoriya Izuku. I think it’s about time.

Eraserhead: Absolutely not.

Aizawa replied quickly, but he knew that the animal wouldn’t care about his wishes.

Nedzu: Just tell him to stop by my office before he leaves. 

Ah, of course.

“Midoriya.” The hero called. “Principal Nedzu wants to see you.”

Nedzu stared at his clock. 

Tick.

Tick. 

Tick.

He calmly took a sip from his tea. It was still warm, but not too warm for it to be unbearable. The cup was clean, the porcelain painted with pale pink roses. 

Why do most teacups have roses painted over them? The principal thought. He suddenly wanted a new tea set with no roses. But not plain ones either. No. I want something new, something fresh. He continued to drink his tea.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

He stood up from his chair, too big for him. He still insisted on having a huge place to sit, even if he didn’t need it. The mouse-bear took his tea set carefully, placing it on a little coffee table (or what he would always call, tea table – why would I call it coffee table if I only ever place teacups on it? ) and he sat down on his overly big sofa. It was brown, leathery, but not real leather. For obvious reasons. 

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Nedzu smiled as he prepared to receive his guest. Any second now.

Tick.

Tick

Tick.

Three knocks were heard on the door. Even if people didn’t realise it, how you knock on someone’s door says a lot about you. Or so thought the principal. Midoriya’s knocks were firm, they had a certain rhythm to them and something that he absolutely loved: they were equal. Perfectly separated by the right amount of time, all of them being applied with the same amount of force. Simply fantastic.

Izuku quietly opened the door, muttering a very low ‘excuse me’.

“Ah, Midoriya Izuku. I was waiting for you. Take a seat, drink some tea.” The principal offered. The kid approached the sofa slowly, sitting right in front of Nedzu.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Izuku broke the silence. “Sir, I think you wanted to see me…?”

“Ah, yes, of course.” He replied, taking a sip of his cup. “Do you want some sugar?”

“What?”

“On your tea. Sugar?”

The boy was speechless. “Sure…”

Nedzu took the little spoon on the left side of the table. Always left first . He took some sugar from a little porcelain container.

“Is that enough?” 

“It is, thanks.” Midoriya said, taking a sip of his teacup. “Woah, this tea is fantastic.”

The principal smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” Nedzu noticed how the boy’s shoelaces were untied.  

He doesn’t seem like someone who would purposely do that. He was in a hurry then? Of course. He was coming from gym class, with Aizawa. I already messaged him a little late but he replied quickly. That means he was with one of his students, who I will assume is Midoriya. He was still in his gym uniform then. Therefore, he must have been in a rush while changing to meet me.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“Sir, I am here for…?” The boy awkwardly asked.

“I’ve been receiving comments from your teachers, Midoriya. They’re very content with your work.” The mouse-bear began. Midoriya looked quite surprised, but calm enough for Nedzu to think he was expecting something like this. He’s smart then. Doesn’t jump into a social situation before thinking about the possible outcomes, he thought.

“Oh, I’m flattered.” Izuku said. He didn’t look flattered. That might be because he is aware of his intelligence, or because he has already been told about this. The animal poured some milk into his teacup. I’ll go with the second option.

“Yes, yes. But they actually find you… quite bored.” 

“Bored?” The vigilante asked. Nedzu glanced at him. You do waste words though. It’s something that can be fixed.

The principal didn’t bother answering. “If I’m correct, Aizawa has offered you some advanced coursework before, hasn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

“Yet you rejected it.”

“Sir, if I have to be honest, I don’t like attention.” Midoriya quietly admitted. “And being in an advanced programme or something like that would just make me stand out more.”

Nedzu took a sip from his tea again. That is false. He concluded. There are some deeper reasons.

“I understand. But, as teachers, you have to understand that our duty is to make our students reach their full potential.”

“Of course.”

“So, instead of asking teachers for extra work, you’ll come here every week on fridays so I can teach you things that you will find valuable to learn.” The mouse-bear stated.

Midoriya stared at him.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“What… things?”

The mouse-bear placed an unopened box on the tea table. It looked like some sort of game.

Izuku quickly realised what it was.

“Do you have time for a game of chess, Midoriya?”

“Seriously, where’s Powerloader?” The green-head asked exasperated.

Shinsou and Midoriya quickly walked through the halls trying to find the teacher’s lab.

“Do we really have to talk to him?” The taller boy muttered, sighing. 

“You know, my chat with Nedzu was eye-opening. That animal surely knows what he’s talking about.” Izuku smiled. “Sometimes, you just have to bend the rules, Shinsou.” 

“It was a game of chess, Midoriya! Chess! There are no rules to bend there.” That made the vigilante laugh.

“You’d be surprised.” He replied.

“I’m not sure if I’m happy or terrified that the principal, a super genius, is teaching you of all people. You’re going to become unstoppable.”

“Oh, I can almost hear Aizawa-sensei complaining from here. I’m having the time of my life.”

Shinsou crossed his arms. “Do you really need gadgets? Why do I have to come with you anyways?” 

“For emotional support?” The boy clenched his jaw. “How am I supposed to beat everyone then? Healing their injuries?”

“You could always make them-” Hitoshi started arguing, only to get cut off by the green-head.

“No. I refuse making them feel pain.” Izuku winced.

Shinsou was not satisfied. “That doesn’t matter, Midoriya. It’s an aspect of your quirk, you have the right to use it.”

He pouted. “No. If the occasion requires it I will use a ultra-mega-secret ability that I have to end the fight.” He cheerfully exclaimed.

“Secret ability? What is it?” He asked frowning.

“If I told you it would no longer be a secret.” He whispered, reaching the lab area. The doors were big and of a resistant dark metal, clashing with the decoration of the school.

Both of them gulped and as Izuku was going to knock of the door it suddenly opened, revealing a pink-haired student.

“Powerloader-sensei, I’m going-” The girl exclaimed, but stopped when she saw the two boys in front of her.

“Oh! There’s people here!” He cheerfully shouted. “Hi!” She waved at them. “I’m Hatsume Mei, from the support department! Why are you two here?” She asked.

“We’re Midoriya and Shinsou, Powerloader is here right?” 

“Right you are!” She smiled. “I gotta go now to find some of my missing babies, but I hope I can see you both soon!” The girl didn’t wait for an answer as she ran across the hall, screaming unintelligible words.

The two boys looked at each other as they entered the room, finding the teacher surrounded by tools, working loudly.

“Powerloader-sensei?” Izuku shouted over the loud drilling sound. 

The teacher looked sideways, stopping the machine. “Oh, what do you need?” He didn’t bother to ask for their names.

“I’m Midoriya Izuku, from 1-C. I was wondering if you could give a provisional license for some of my gadgets.” He mouthed quickly. 

“Your gadgets? You make them?” He asked. “Why do you need a provisional license anyway?”

“To use them in the sports festival.”

The teacher smiled. “So someone finally cracked Nedzu’s rule.”

The green-head smiled back. “No unlicensed gadgets are allowed in the sports festival with the exception of the support course.” He remembered. “If I get a provisional license it would be okay, right?”

The teacher dropped his tools, taking a fill-out form from his drawer. “Yes, you’re right. You’d have to bring the gadgets here though, so I can inspect them.”

Midoriya smiled as he took his heavy backpack out of his shoulders, dropping it carefully on the table. He unzipped it, revealing the content inside.

Hitoshi came closer and gaped. “So that’s why your backpack was so heavy.” 

Powerloader hummed, holding one of the artifacts. “You’re certainly not a beginner. This will take some time, but I’m sure they will all pass the basic safety measures.” 

“Hatsume. Is she good?” He asked, looking around the workshop. A pile of gadgets accumulated in one corner.

The hero sighed. “Extremely talented, but erratic. She’s some kind of tech genius.”

A grin spread across Midoriya’s face.

“Perfect.”

Chapter Text

The damp atmosphere of the school’s bathroom was suffocating. Izuku’s heart thumped loudly as blood obstructed his eardrums.

The little boy hated the room. He never wanted to go back, but when dad came to visit mom would always make him go there.

Panic inundated his mind and he kept his legs together, crying harder but silently. Bile rose to his throat. His vision became foggy and unfocused. The feeling of being drowned become greater and Midoriya couldn’t do anything but cry. 

There had been a power shutdown in the school due to the storm outside.

He often wondered why she did that, and why would she hide him from his dad. His naive mind thought that he returned because he loved him. But poor little boy, he was so mistaken. The room was always cold and dark. He could never move or ask for help. Mom always told him that if he shouted, monsters would come after him. 

Izuku had to run to the bathroom as his heart dropped to his stomach, his face rapidly losing its color. 

Sometimes lights would flicker in the room, making him tremble.

The little boy didn’t like monsters, so he kept quiet. He always did.

The lights from the bathroom flickered once more, making the teen sob harder. 

He was alone.

He always was.

Midoriya was stretching in the preparation room for general education classes. The air was heavy and you could see the faces of determination in most pupils. Shinsou was next to him, following Izuku’s moves.

“Nervous?” The purple-head inquired.

“No.” Midoriya answered in a beat. He had endured much more threatening and dangerous situations. This was going to be child’s play compared to U.S.J. A shiver went down his spine.

The taller teen hummed. “I know I’m not winning.” He murmured. “But you have to, Midoriya.”

The green-head swirled his head at him and narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He grumbled, stopping the stretch routine. “I can’t promise anything.” 

Hitoshi paused, glaring at him. “You’re the strongest first year, even if we count in the hero course.” Izuku rolled his eyes at the comment. “It’s true! You can’t deny it.” 

“Sure, Shinsou. Maybe I’m the strongest.” He agreed, taking a sip from his canteen. “That doesn’t grant me an instant victory.” 

The purple-head’s bored eyes stared at him. You’re a fucking vigilante, you’ve fought villains three times stronger than these kids, and you’re telling me you can’t win? He thought, groaning. Shinsou had discovered his identity a few days ago and still hadn’t digested it completely, but it all made so much sense now. His quirk, the martial arts, his aura. After picking up the vigilante on that alleyway he had carried him to an abandoned building to check his injuries and patch him up as well as he could despite having little background in caring for severe wounds. The green-head’s mask was on his face and the taller teen just couldn’t stop himself. It had been wrong, he had betrayed his friend’s trust, so Hitoshi wouldn’t pressure him into revealing his secret identity. At least now that Shinsou knew he could cover Midoriya up whenever he needed it.

“Well,” He began. “let’s at least try to entertain the fans.” The tired boy muttered, trying to ease the tense environment.

“Sure.” The smaller teen replied, smirking. “Let’s destroy some hero course kids.” They fist-bumped.

A dark shadow appeared in the doorframe.

“Midoriya, come with me.” Eraserhead spoke, silently enough for no one to notice except the two friends. Izuku’s eyes widened as his friend snickered, giving him a soundless good luck. Midoriya sighed and accompanied the hero to an empty room.

“So?” The teen said once the door was closed, a hint of sass present in his tone. “The festival is about to start, I shouldn’t be here.” 

The teacher stared at him with bored eyes. “Kid, I came here to talk about your quirk.” The man scanned the kid, searching for new injuries. Nope, just a very tired child, he thought. “It's not the best time to have a chat about it, but–”

“It definitely isn't, Eraser.” The kid replied instantly, cutting him off.

"You should use your quirk on the festival." He ignored his comment. "You're willingly handicapping yourself here, Midoriya. It's illogical."

The student didn't say a word for a few seconds, annoyed eyes staring right into his soul. "No."

The man opened his mouth to explain himself, but he wasn't allowed to.

“No.” He replied one more time. “Aizawa-sensei, it’s my quirk, and therefore I should be the one who decides to use it or not. Besides, there is a student in your class who doesn’t use part of their quirk and I don’t see you pestering him.” Midoriya retorted. “If that’s everything, I’m leaving.”

The teen stomped out of the room, leaving a confused Shouta behind. “Was my comment that bad…?” He mumbled. These last few days he had seen the kid on edge. Although Midoriya usually gave off an intimidating ‘don’t touch me’ aura he had to learn to read him like a book. His facial expressions didn’t give off much since he was a remarkably good liar, but his body language was always sincere. The boy was unstable, he was nervous. He had seen him recoil more than once when his classmates approached him with math questions in break time, or when a thick book fell to the ground. Everything set him off.

That’s because he’s Keres. His logical reasoning screamed at him. He’s been through too much these past days. Hell, he's been through too much all of his life.

The possibility of Midoriya being chased by the league made his hair stand on end. He had seen the punch on his neck, the exhaustion. The only thing the teacher needed to complete his theory was grave injuries that could link him with the vigilante, such as the scars that Keres probably had due to U.S.J. The kid was sneaky, he changed in the bathroom stalls according to his classmates, always had his jacket on. He had been touching his wrists compulsively lately, and Shouta wondered why was that. He didn’t want to assume the worst, but it all fit perfectly.

The jumps, the wounds, everything. Yet he couldn't do a damn thing about it, because the law worked in irrational ways.

Izuku had been very distant with him as well. He always avoided contact with the teachers and other adults in general, like he didn’t trust them. Shouta never liked having a strong relationship with his students (that’s what he calls expelling an entire class) but he somehow ended up liking 1-A. Midoriya had been a very odd exception from the beginning. His glares never affected him and usually smiled when he received one. The kid never revealed too much or too little about himself, like he knew exactly what so say to ease the teacher’s suspicions. His personality seemed rehearsed and artificial.

He was certainly a puzzle with missing pieces.

Midoriya was blinded by the light of the morning sun. The arena was packed with family members, journalists, pro-heroes and fans. His class was happily presented by Present Mic and a light ‘hum’ from Eraserhead. Once all of the classes were set, Midnight appeared, causing a general roar in the public. 

“Representing the first years, we have…” She stopped, placing a hand on her hip. “Bakugou Katsuki, from class 1-A!” The audience applauded as the explosive teen nonchalantly went up to the microphone.

“Yeah, from the hero course.” Izuku heard some muttering behind him. “Midoriya Izuku, from my class? Got a perfect score on both physical and written. He should be the one making the speech.” Some people gasped at the comment, 1-B staring at him.

Shinsou placed a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch. “I’m glad you’re not the one giving the speech.” He whispered, making the boy frown. “You’d probably die from embarrassment.”

That made the teen snort.

“I promise…” Katsuki began. Midoriya rolled his eyes, guessing what was coming next. “I promise I will be number one.” 

Izuku let out an exasperated cry as people commenced with the screams. The short teen didn’t blame them, Bakugou was the cause of everyone's animosity towards the hero course. When Katsuki’s little outburst happened, Shinsou, as the little snake he is, started spreading the conversation around.

He also spread the fact that Midoriya got U.A’s highest scores ever, but the vigilante didn’t know that.

Iida instantly stepped out, calling Bakugou out for saying ‘such an inappropriate comment’ and the fiery teen replied with a snarky remark, infuriating everyone even more. 

Once the public had calmed down the pro-hero announced the first game. A panel appeared behind her, seemingly randomizing the contest.

“It’s obvious that they’re doing this for the dramatic effect.” He laughed, looking at his friend.

"U.A is just this extra, Midoriya. Aren't you already used to this?" The purple-head continued the banter. 

“Obstacle race!” Midnight chirped as the panel behind her changed to explain the activity. “Eleven classes will participate in the event. The race will be the circumference of this stadium, around four kilometers. As long as you follow the path, it doesn’t matter what you do!” She exclaimed. The audience loudly cheered as they all get into position, three lights on the entrance of the race to mark the start of it.

“Midoriya.” Shinsou muttered next to him. He didn't answer. “Don’t wait for me. This is not the event in which I can stand out.” He looked at his friend. “Make the general education course proud.”

Izuku smiled, and the first light turned off. Midoriya’s jacket perfectly hid the inside of it which was filled with all kinds of weapons. Faux grenades, bo staffs, guns, grappling hooks, knives. It was all around his body in an organized manner, as well as a blue utility belt made especially for this occasion. 

The second light turned off and the vigilante touched the back part of his shoes. Propulsors which created a similar effect to his metal poles.

The third light faded. “Start!”

Izuku didn't waste a second and activated the mechanism on his shoes, avoiding the initial stampede. He felt the light wind crashing against his face as he took the first place in two seconds, seeing Todoroki freeze the entrance with the corner of his eyes.

“WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT? MIDORIYA IZUKU FROM THE GENERAL COURSE HAS AVOIDED THE STAMPEDE PROPULSING HIMSELF WITH HIS SHOES? IS THAT ALLOWED?” The loud pro-hero chirped, the camera focusing on the vigilante. He directed a peace sign at them, making the viewers laugh. 

“It is,” Eraserhead began. “he probably licensed his hand-made weapons. That’s always been allowed, but it’s the first time we have seen it happen, normally only the support course uses them. Midoriya is bending the rules, that’s all.”

Izuku laughed when he was confronted with giant robots and waited for Todoroki to arrive with crossed arms. The eye of the robot focused on him, delivering a missile that was dodged by the teen.

“IT SEEMS LIKE THEY HAVE REACHED THE FIRST BARRIER! ROBOTS!” Yamada screamed happily. 

“Woah, Todoroki, you’re slow!” He screamed, turning to see the cold teen sliding through the ice, freezing the other contestants. He dodged another bullet as he took a flamethrower from his jacket.

“Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He smiled, turning the powerful machine on. Although it looked like a common flamethrower, the flame that could be created with it was twice as tall as a normal human. He quickly placed it back on his jacket because after all, it’s just a strategy. Endeavor’s son now knew that stopping Izuku’s feet with his ice is useless, so he focused his attention on the robots, completely freezing them. Midoriya stared at him with an arched eyebrow. 

“TODOROKI IS COMPLETELY FREEZING THE ROBOTS!” Present Mic screams. “IT LOOKS LIKE THEY’RE GOING TO FALL OVER!”

Izuku grinned as he strode through the cold floor. Damn, it’s cold. He thought, leaving everyone behind quickly. He was on Todoroki’s tail, and as long as Izuku was behind him he wouldn’t have any problem with the robot phase. The teen took a glimpse back, seeing the majority of class 1-A reaching his position. His eyes narrowed one he saw his purple-headed friend being carried by other people at a light pace. 

He laughed as Katsuki entered in his peripheral vision, taking his second place. 

Izuku continued evading robots as he lost the advantage over the other students, arriving at the second barrier. 

“THE FALL!” Hizashi announced. Midoriya smirked, looking at his side. 

“Ah, Hatsume. Isn’t this a perfect environment to test your babies?” He looked at the pink-haired girl who was dying of excitement. 

“Right you are! This is my opportunity!” She screamed, waving her hands into the sky. “Watch this everyone, I present you with…” Hatsume jumped into the void, using one of her complex machines to propel herself, as she screamed the name of her inventions. “Don’t take my moment, Midoriya!” 

He smirked. “Can’t promise that!” The girl was erratic and an absolute genius, she had gained Izuku’s respect, however, the green-head considered himself a bit more conservative with his gadgets. The flashiest, the worse. 

That being said, Midoriya was a bit of a hypocrite.

He activated his soles once again, but a different button. He then placed a seemingly light metal plate from his jacket onto the ground and stepped on it, making the base much thicker. 

He liked to call it wings. 

“MIDORIYA IZUKU IS DIRECTLY FLYING TOWARDS THE END OF PHASE TWO! IS THIS BOY INSANE?” The teen winked, knowing cameras were on him. 

This part of the sole activated a small platform on his shoes and activated kerosene. Aviation fuel was usually this with other ingredients, so why not try to make a flying board? He technically got the idea from a guy in France who tried to fly from one country to another a few centuries ago – not that he was able to do it on the first try, but in Izuku's defense, he was roughly trying to get across 600 meters when the man was doing much more than that. And hey, kerosene is expensive. His version of the hoverboard was much slower than the original, but it was still enough for him to cross over faster than most contestants. He flew across the heads of everyone rather uncomfortably but it did the job. He slowly reduced his speed by tip-toeing on the platform. 

Izuku landed on the floor, taking first place once again. “Ah, Hatsume. That was amazing!” She pouted at that.

“I also helped him make those shoes!” She screamed, grabbing the attention to herself once again. "And the platform! And pretty much everything he has!"

"Right she is! All courtesy of Hatsume Mei, inventor extraordinaire!" The boy shouted to the camera as he let out a laugh, dashing to the following zone.

“AND NOW, WE REACH THE FINAL TEST!” Present Mic chirped. “MINEFIELD!”

Izuku sighed as Todoroki and Bakugou reached him, immediately racing across the field. Midoriya the same metal plaque he used before out of his utility belt, patiently crossing part of the area infested with mines.

“You can tell what kids have been against villains already! Their reaction times are way faster than the rest!” The pro-hero said a bit less enthusiastically. Midoriya gaped at the comment, offended.

“No, that’s not it.” Eraserhead muttered, almost making Izuku giggle.

“Coming to my rescue, dad?” He humorously muttered as he started to dig the ground, placing the mines uniformly on the soil.

“Although fighting villains does help…” He coughed, Izuku getting the hint. “My advice is simple when it comes to dealing with Midoriya: don't underestimate him.” 

Izuku stepped back as the majority of the contestants were reaching his position, completely losing track of his place. He extended the metal square, revealing the new true nature of it. 

A shield. 

Izuku didn’t think twice as he pressed his body against it, throwing himself into several mines. 

Pink smoke filled the arena, shocked faces rising to see where the explosion was coming from. The previously fighting number one and two turned back when they heard the loud noises.

Midoriya was flying into first place, and no one could stop him.

Eraserhead had to drown the urge to get down into the arena and smack the child in the head. He was playing with mines. Bombs. Explosives.

Who educated this child? He sighed, a hint of a smile on his commissures.

Izuku had won the first stage of the sports festival, which was far more than enough to get into the hero course. The uproar in the audience was incredible, everyone falling for the stupidly charismatic child. He knew how to win the public, Eraserhead had seen it throughout the race. How he exactly knew when the cameras were on him, winking and smiling at them – even throwing a peace sign now and then – and joking around with other contestants, encouraging them to keep going.

The child had a heart of gold, and everyone had seen it. He had become one of the favorites online, his name trending over the rest.

Midoriya Izuku, from the general course, was the public’s darling. 

And he hadn’t used his quirk, not even once.

“You never fail to surprise me, problem child.”

Chapter Text

Shinsou was concerned. After the first round had finished on a high note, with Izuku winning the round and Hitoshi classifying with a decent position, the green-head disappeared without a trace. There was a short ten-minute rest so the contestants could drink water and such – but Midoriya was missing and there were only a couple of minutes left. The creative side of his brain couldn’t help but think that something serious had happened, yet that seemed unlikely. The place was packed with pro-heroes and reporters, so the boy doubted the league had pulled another ‘let’s kidnap this vigilante with an awfully high pain tolerance’. The other option was that Midoriya was wandering around the building, escaping the crowds. Which seemed a much, much more normal option.

Let’s just say that Shinsou’s creative side was in charge of his actions that morning. So if anyone gave him a weird look for running around the building in a very sweaty and panicked state, he would just tell them to mind their own business. His vigilante villain-magnet friend, being in danger? Not on his watch.

His search was cut short by a firm, cold hand on his shoulder.

“Shinsou, why are you running around like a maniac?” The man sighed. 

“Regardless of that, I wanted to schedule a chat with you and your parents. I think it’s due.”

The tall boy turned around to find some very familiar scarfs in front of him.

“By the way, good work on the first round.”

Ah, shit.

Midnight waved at the crowd as she entered the arena once again. “Is everyone ready for round two?” She exclaimed. The audience clapped and cheered. “Now, let’s discover the next game for our first-year students!” 

Silence consumed the stage for a few seconds. Midoriya thought about it. It will definitely be teamwork-based since the last phase didn’t involve working with others and the third one will surely be one-on-one battles. So, a fight between teams then? No, that’s too simple for U.A. It must be a complex game, something that we can all play, but that it’s not too complicated to handle.

“Let’s see…” She took a card from her back pocket, revealing it to everyone. “Tag!” The pro-hero said, waving the paper around. “Of course, this is not your casual playground game of tag. Students are free to use any and every advantage that they posess. They will be divided into groups of three and one should be the team leader. If they tag the leader, the entire team is out. If you touch any of the other members, only the member is out. But!” She smiled. “If the leader is alive by the end of the five minutes, the entire team will continue to the next round! The identity of the captain is secret, so only the referee and your team will know who it is.”

Izuku sighed. That was one complicated game.

“You now have 5 minutes to make your teams! Hurry up and good luck!”

He looked around as people were already searching for their friends. Shinsou entered in his peripheral vision.

“Hello, dude. Good job on the first stage, your new fans are kind of annoying though.” The taller teen joked, looking at the group of people behind Midoriya. He didn’t show how worried was about his friend disappearing for ten minutes. “Where were you, by the way?”

“Oh, running away from everyone who wanted to congratulate me.” The green-head snorted. “In what position did you end up?”

“10th, I think. I kind of controlled everyone in front of me to make them stop. People are really easy to trick these days.” Hitoshi looked around too. “We need one more.”

Izuku saw a dash of pink running towards them.

“Nope, we're complete.” He smiled.

“One last thing!” Midnight exclaimed with a phone placed next to her ear. “I’ve just been informed that the classification of groups will be by points. Even if your leader is still standing, that doesn’t mean your team will pass.” The students started to whisper. “If you tag someone, they will be eliminated, but their points will be passed to your group, dividing them equally between all of your members. The points per person will be decided depending on your position of the previous event, so the 42nd position will be worth 10 points, increasing fifty points per position. But there’s a catch!”

“The person who placed first is worth ten million points. Isn’t that exciting?” Midnight said almost too happily.

Everyone's faces turned around to face Midoriya, who was standing on the back. 

Oh, hell no.

“Jetpack?”

“Ready!”

“Smoke grenades?”

“Yup!”

“Parachute?”

“We don’t need that! I said that my babies are absolutely safe!” 

“Alright. Ready to fly, guys?”

Two loud cheers followed. Midoriya laughed, his quirk pumping his body with adrenaline. 

“You can now begin!” Midnight exclaimed. 

The moment she said those words, the arena, that was modified to make it look like a small village, was filled with a misty gray substance. A loud engine sound vibrated against the walls. 

“WHAT’S THIS?” Present Mic exclaimed. “EVERYTHING IS COVERED WITH SMOKE AND… WAIT. Is that Midoriya and his team?”

Three bodies elevated from the ground with spectacular speed.

“HOLY FUCK!” Shinsou exclaimed as they escaped the smoke. Midoriya laughed hysterically while Hatsune exclaimed something about sponsors noticing her “babies”. 

“It seems like they have opted for an initial distraction tactic. The loud sounds and the lack of visibility is enough to disorientate someone, that must have been their plan. Flying out of the way gives them a great advantage too.” Aizawa’s voice was loud and clear for the first time that day.

“Number one, we only have 30 seconds left of power. How’s the smoke dissipating?” She exclaimed over the loud sound of the jetpack.

Midoriya, who was the only one in the jetpack who had any type of visibility due to the bizarre position the team was in to fit into the machine, saw the smoke slowly clear up.

“We’re good, Hatsune!” Midoriya shouted. “Let’s wait 20 seconds!”

A large block of ice appeared on the horizon. 

“OH, WHAT’S THIS? TODOROKI SHOUTO, STUDENT OF CLASS 1-A JUST CREATED A HUGE ICEBERG, AND HIS TEAM IS ON TOP OF IT!”

“Ah fuck,” Midoriya muttered. “they’re making us go down! Let’s drop on top of the house!”

“FOUR MINUTES REMAINING.” Mic’s voice could barely be heard over Shinsou’s laugh and screams as the jetpack began to lose power.

They landed on top of a roof safely and with their hearts beating loudly on their chests. The group could start to see people approaching the building. 

“Alright guys, let’s start with plan yeet,” Midoriya whispered under his breath. His teammates, now composed and serious, ran away from him in opposite directions. 

“It seems like Midoriya’s team decided to separate. It’s logical, considering his worth.” The tired pro-hero commented. It might not be obvious for someone who didn’t know him, but Aizawa was very into this game. His voice was even a bit excited.

Izuku looked at the mass of people coming to him. His options were limited, if he used his ‘passive’ quirk mode he would pass out instantly. So many lights together indicating blood, oxygen and hormones would be catastrophic for his eyes and a headache was guaranteed. He didn’t want to cause any pain or hurt anyone and making 30 people suddenly faint was not an option, since it would be tiring and more importantly, the police knew that Keres could make people faint. The boy was pretty sure his teacher knew about his secret identity, but that didn’t mean he had to scream ‘Hey, I’m Keres, the vigilante!’ on national television. 

He did the easiest thing available: he ran away. Years of jumping from building to building paid off and these houses looked like they wanted to be jumped on. They were all close together, but not enough for the average person to leap, and the roofs were slightly tilted, enough for him to gain some momentum. Fortunately, Izuku wasn’t the average person, much less with his adrenaline turned on at maximum. 

So when Izuku started jumping around chaos ensued. 

“How the fuck–˝

“He looks like a damn FROG HOW CAN HE DO THAT?”

“Wait, that’s Midoriya? You’re kidding.”

“DEKU COME BACK YOU ASS–˝

“THREE MINUTES REMAINING.”

Despite being fast and jumping quite high, there were other students whose quirks allowed them to do that as well. He wasn’t surprised to see Katsuki on his tail. Meanwhile, Present Mic started to announce the people who were being eliminated, teams who were disqualified and commenting on interesting plays of other students. 

An eerie smile appeared on Midoriya’s smile as he slowed down his movements, turning around to see his childhood friend. The two boys were now alone, most of the students being occupied with other groups or too slow to follow. 

The teachers thought that the plan ‘yeet’ was just Midoriya’s team dividing. The students thought that as well. Including Bakugou.

As usual, they were wrong.

Midoriya jumped down the house, staring at his enemy. “Alright, guys, time to pop in.”

His two teammates appeared from what seemed out of nowhere. Of course, their plan wasn’t just to scatter, but to make it look like they had done that. It made Izuku seem like an easy prey and the focus of attention which was good, as Hitoshi was the captain. They had agreed on selecting him just in case Izuku was eliminated. They would still have the chance of moving to the next stage if they tagged some students, as they had both ended up in good enough positions to have the opportunity.

 His two friends had run through parallel streets to his, and when the sound of his metal soles had stopped, they both entered the houses through the back door and exited through the front one, getting to his street.

“Shitty Deku,” Katsuki muttered under his breath as he approached the group, climbing down the building. Midoriya frowned. The other boy seemed oddly calm, and the ‘Kacchan’ he knew would always be violent and ferocious. They didn’t know who would fall into their trap, but if it was him, they were prepared for brute force.

“TWO MINUTES REMAINING.”

That wasn’t the case.

“Hey, pomeranian. Who’s that Deku you keep talkin’ about?” Shinsou laughed. “Also, don’t curse, you’re on live TV.”

That seemed to set him off. “Look, you stupid ass, I do whatever the fuck I wan–˝

“Come here, slowly, and don’t move for twenty seconds,” Shinsou said, proudly. The blonde seemed to follow his orders, until–

A flash of blue appeared, pushing Katsuki out of the way and claiming the points for themselves. 

Iida. 

This exercise had put Midoriya at a disadvantage. His forte was one-on-one fights, with punches and kicks included. This game, however, required either stealth or a suitable quirk and was centered on being able to deal with lots of people at the same time, at least in Izuku’s case for being number one. The boy, unfortunately, had none of these abilities. Some people had a clear advantage in this game, but he guessed it was fair enough. After all, there’s always a person who is going to have an upper hand in battle due to the circumstances.

“BAKUGOU KATSUKI HAS BEEN TAGGED.” An automated voice rang through the buildings. He wasn’t the leader.

Midoriya instantly panicked, activating ‘passive’ mode. Hagakure was part of Iida’s team and he was not letting her catch anyone–

“HATSUNE MEI HAS BEEN TAGGED.” He whipped his head towards his friend, catching a glimpse of Toru's circulatory system. Izuku saw the pink-haired girl give him a thumbs up. He gave her a sad smile, his eyes never leaving the colorful lights.

His revenge was quick. Midoriya took the taser gun out of his belt, aiming at the invisible figure with blue, red and golden lights circling different paths in what appeared to be nothing. “Gotcha, Hagakure.” A strangled scream was heard to his right as the electricity hit her body, and he placed a hand on the invisible figure.

“HAGAKURE TORU HAS BEEN TAGGED.” 

He noticed a liquid touching the upper part of his lips, but wasn't surprised when it was blood. He tried to wipe it with the palm of his hand in an attempt to clean it, but he only smudged it across his face even more.

“Midoriya, how did you know–˝ Shinsou started.

“No time for that, I’ll explain later. We gotta get out of here, I’m sure the other member of Iida’s team are near.” He spat out his words. Without realizing, he had grabbed his friend’s hand and started running away from that street as fast as possible, crossing rows of houses.

“Todoroki is there, somewhere. I haven’t heard anything about his team.” The purple-head gasped out, tired from running. 

A block of ice appeared in the middle of the street, towering over them. On top of it, there was Shouto, alone. 

“ONE MINUTE REMAINING.”

“Shinsou, haven’t you learned anything about summoning people by their names already?” The smaller teen gritted out. “I want you to go away. Only a few seconds are remaining and we can’t risk losing you.”

Hitoshi turned away from his friend, preparing to run. “Only because I trust you.” He let go of his warm hand, instantly feeling the change of temperature in his palm.

“THIRTY SECONDS.”

Todoroki was in front of him, already charging with ice on his right. Hitoshi was already nowhere to be seen.

Midoriya was prepared, too, the edge of the flamethrower brushing the tips of his fingers.

And then, it happened.

Fire. 

Izuku felt crushed by someone. He was laying on the floor, the upper part of his body straightened up, but another body was wrapped around his. Smoke from one of his bombs that had accidentally set off filled the small place in which the two had fought, so he couldn’t see what was happening.

God. I lost, haven’t I? I didn’t expect that fire, really, but I believed that my shoe impact would be enough to–

“Number one! You did it, you actually did it!” A feminine voice came from on top of him.

Oh.

Another heavier weight joined the crush, making Izuku grunt over the already-forming bruises on his abdomen. He let himself fully rest on the sandy ground.

“Dude! You should have seen yourself– it was amazing! It was all covered in ice and then a loud noise and you were FLYING and Todoroki used his fire–˝ Shinsou started rambling, too excited for his normally chill nature. “You didn’t tag him, but holy hell, Midoriya. The impact of the shoes with the fire made some kind of explosion– they might be broken? That’s how you didn’t touch each other.”

Wait, we did it?

His best friend's voice was muffled by the cheers of the audience, chanting and screaming.

“THAT CONCLUDES THE SECOND ROUND!” The blond teacher screamed into the microphone. “IN FIRST PLACE, WE HAVE… TEAM SHINSOU!”

Izuku didn’t hear the rest of the positions, he truly didn’t care. The boy tightened the grip on both of his friends, resting his face in the crook of Hitoshi's neck. He was there, with his friends, in a surprisingly nice bone-crushing hug, and honestly? 

Midoriya wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. He let out a choked laugh that was soon joined by his teammates. 

To some people, it might seem sad how Izuku forgot how comforting hugs were. How nice it felt when people cared about you. How it felt to have real friends who value you, despite knowing all of your flaws. Instead, Midoriya had a moment of realization. He had recovered something that lost years ago.

For some reason, his mother’s words popped into his head: his first memory ever. “Izuku, whatever happens, remember that true friends will always be there. To celebrate your victories and to cry about your failures. Ups and downs. Day and night.” She whispered to him, carefully playing with his tiny green curls. “Baby, friends are your chosen family.”

And if his friends saw his red, teary eyes after they separated from the embrace, they said nothing.

Chapter Text

Izuku had to stop by Recovery Girl’s office despite his insistence on being completely fine – Shinsou had brainwashed him to go – so there he was, desperately trying to hide his injured body. Thankfully he had bandaged everything tightly, including the scars in his arms just for good measure, so she wouldn’t directly see the wounds. It was clear that something was up with his left arm due to the confrontation with Todoroki, so if it was dislocated it wouldn’t affect him on the one-on-one battles thanks to the nurse.

“I don’t have to take off my jacket for this, Recovery Girl, I’m completely fine–˝ 

“Child, how am I supposed to see your arm if it’s covered by fabric?” She asked, clearly exasperated. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

The boy sighed as he took his jacket off. The lady’s eyes widened slightly when she saw both of his arms, from shoulder to elbow, covered in bandages. The shirt he was wearing hid part of it, yet it was obvious that it was a large injury. She didn’t say anything, but Izuku knew that she would report it to his homeroom teacher, and then Present Mic would report it to–

“Problem child, already here?” A man entered the room. Midoriya didn’t have to look up from his lap to know who it was.

Well.

Eraserhead approached the stretcher with narrowed eyes, painfully glaring at his bandaged biceps. Izuku gulped loudly as he chewed on some gummy bears. 

“Hey, teacher.” He waved his left hand, receiving a very angry shout from the nurse. “The grand finale was a bit anticlimactic, wasn’t it? It feels like a big blur in my mind, I can’t really remember what happened so I might have a concussion or something? But my head doesn’t hurt, so it just doesn’t make a lot of sense–” His rambling was cut by a handful of gummy bears being stuffed into his mouth by a very irritated Recovery Girl. 

“You did good, kid.” The man said, eyeing other students in the infirmary. “Is his arm going to be okay for the next round?” He asked, now addressing the woman. 

“Midoriya is stubborn, he’ll be fine. His quirk also helps with the injury.” She said as she went to attend other students. Izuku didn’t bother to correct the pro-hero – his quirk only healed blood-related wounds, not a dislocated shoulder. At least not yet.

They were now alone. 

Izuku gripped the paper cover of the rough bed. 

“You know we have to have a chat about those bandages, right?” The hero said, pointing at his arms. “And the rest.” He added, hinting that he knew there were more injuries. 

“Right.” He replied, finding his fingernails very fascinating all of the sudden.

“Though not today.” This made the green-head look up from his hands, making eye contact with the hero. “You have a lot of pressure on and I don’t want to interfere in your results.” A hint of sadness covered his words. Midoriya didn’t know why.

“Thank you.” Izuku quietly muttered, feeling the weight of the world crushing onto his shoulders. 

The man said nothing as he left the room. 

“Midoriya.” A deep voice called behind him.

“What do you want–” He growled as he turned around. He was having quite the day – first thing in the morning Aizawa comes to pester him about his quirk, then a bunch of random people start following him around, and now the same pro-hero had seen his injuries, which just confirmed his theory about his double-identity. Midoriya closed his mouth and looked at the dual-colored eyes in front of him.

He didn’t predict that happening. 

“Todoroki.” He whispered, frowning. 

“Were you expecting someone?” The taller boy questioned with no shadow of emotion.

“No, not exactly. There’s just a lot of people following me today...” He said, his voice progressively getting quieter as he spoke. “So, you wanted to talk?” Izuku asked, a bit more confidently this time. 

Even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud ever, he found the youngest Todoroki quite intimidating. His deep voice and rigid facial expressions were off-putting for the smaller boy, who often relied on analyzing others to move swiftly around social situations. He guessed Shouto would be a bit like Aizawa – difficult to decipher at first, but he would eventually get used to him. Everyone had a trick after all. 

Midoriya allowed his body to rest against the wall. He then cracked his neck sideways, making sounds that no fifteen-year-old neck should make. 

“Yes. Last round–” The other boy started.

“Oh, about that. Nothing personal, just really wanted to win. Besides, all of that pressure and shit that was going on was exhausting– I didn’t hurt you, right?” He cut off, not allowing Todoroki to explain himself.

“It’s not that.” Shouto seemed unsure of his words, probably because Midoriya was being too direct for his liking. “You made me use my fire.”

Midoriya blinked a few times. “And? Isn’t that… your quirk?” He said, incredulous. Izuku was aware that the taller boy didn’t use his fire, but he never knew the reason behind it. 

Todoroki opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of how to start this. “You don’t understand. I can’t use my fire. My father–”

“Well, you certainly can. You just used it against me.” Midoriya rudely argued. There was a hint of aggressiveness in his voice that Shouto didn’t feel comfortable with. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions about the boy since probably the stress of the sports festival was taking a toll on him. 

“Not like that. I didn’t want to use it, yet for some reason you…” Todoroki’s expression twitched. He knew he had to tell him because he wasn’t understanding his situation. Not like he expected him to understand it even after this. “Midoriya, have you ever heard about quirk marriages?”

With years of experience of hearing sad stories in the orphanage, Midoriya thought he was completely immune to the pain. Despite that, he wasn’t prepared for Todoroki’s story. Their childhoods had almost nothing in common. The taller boy was born into a family of wealth and fame. It had been an arranged marriage, and he was the youngest of several siblings. He soon got a quirk – an amazing and powerful one. Izuku, however, was born in a middle-class family who lived comfortably. He was a single child, and his parents were in love, or so he was told. He didn’t get a quirk when he was supposed to.

Their lives seemed to be placed in completely different worlds, but the moment they turned four their stories became equal. 

There was no point in comparing their childhoods because Izuku already understood his pain as if it had been his own.

“That’s why I have to beat you, Midoriya. I have to win without my father’s quirk to prove him wrong.”

Todoroki seemed to be ready to leave at any moment, already turning his head at the other side of the tunnel they were standing in. 

“I can’t say I know what you went through,” Midoriya admitted, making the other boy freeze in place. “I will never understand how being born gifted feels like, and I will probably never know how you felt throughout your childhood. However, I do know what it feels like to be betrayed by the people that should care about you the most.” He took a deep breath in, taking a step forward. “I’ve never received any support from anyone. I have been at the bottom of the ladder all of my life until now, I suppose. And if I’m here it’s not because I was lucky or unlucky, it’s not because of my quirk or my smarts. It’s about my effort, Todoroki. And I, like many others in the general course, am planning to give my best and beyond. The only thing I expect you to do in return is to give it all as well.” Shouto turned his face to look at Izuku.

“That’s why I’m going to beat you , Todoroki. I’m going to beat you with my quirk and with every bit of strength that I have. To prove that I’ve gained my place.”

He stared at his blue and grey eyes and gave him a real smile.

“See you in round two. I have a fight to win.”

“Monoma? That guy from 1-B is the one I’m fighting?”

“Apparently, yes,” Shinsou answered, staring at the arena in front of him. “There’s like, a minute left, are you prepared? I told you already, his quirk is–”

“Copycat, yeah, I got it,” Izuku said as he rolled his shoulders. “I can’t let him copy my quirk or this fight can turn into a bloodbath in a matter of seconds.” He laughed, trying to ease his friend’s worried face.

“Not funny at all, Midoriya. Eraserhead is in the corner of the arena prepared to act if anything happens.” The purple boy stated with confidence. Izuku frowned deeply, confused about how he knew that information. “I overheard Midnight when you were in the infirmary. They’re really concerned about your quirk, dude. It’s that… dangerous?”

“It is in the wrong hands. If you don’t know how to control it… it can be lethal.” Midoriya sighed as he wiped some sweat off his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore, as there was no point in doing so, but the sun was high up and the day was humid. Bad combo.

Shinsou had a moment of realization. “Wait.” The green-head turned around as he arched his eyebrows. “How… how did you get your quirk?”

Midoriya stared at him blankly as the characteristic music of the festival started to play again. “Like everyone does: suddenly.” Hitoshi sighed, knowing he was going to evade the question.

“AND NOW… ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE A HERO COURSE STUDENT WHO HAS SILENTLY ADVANCED AND GAINED A PLACE ON THE FINALS… MONOMA NEITO!” Cheers of the audience could be heard from inside the building when Present Mic announced his rival.

“Rock and roll, baby,” Midoriya muttered as he stepped into the field, a smirk on his face.

“AND ON THE LEFT, THE GENERAL COURSE STUDENT WHO HAS AMAZED EVERYONE BY MAINTAINING FIRST PLACE THROUGHOUT ALL OF THE EVENTS… MIDORIYA IZUKU!” The boy in question was momentarily blinded by the change of lighting. A sudden warmth hit his face as he approached the field limits.

“Heya.” Izuku waved his hand at his opponent.

The other boy huffed.

“START!”

Midoriya stared at him with his lips pressed tightly as he saw the boy slowly approach him. He could see, in the corner of the field, a very unamused Eraserhead glaring at Monoma. If he wasn’t currently under so much stress, it would almost be funny. Almost.

“I’m sorry, Aizawa-sensei.” He muttered as he charged against the blond. Izuku knew that with this movement Monoma already had his quirk, and honestly, he didn’t know how this would go. He threw a punch at Neito, his reflexes not being quick enough to dodge the impact.

Strategies were running around Midoriya’s head. I don’t know how many quirks he copied, he could literally have anything. He’s a member of 1-B, though, so I can safely assume that he has one of their quirks.

As if asked for, a metal leg impacted with his stomach, sending him a few steps back. “Not gonna use your quirk, freckles?” Izuku frowned at this. Although he did have some freckles he found much more noticeable the few scars that he had on his face. 

“Not in my priority list, no.” He answered as Monoma tried to attack him, throwing a very unsuccessful punch that was easily dodged. Midoriya took this opportunity to punch him in the stomach, the blonde making a very faint strangled noise as he stumbled back.

“I’m tired of playing games. Let’s see what your quirk can do–”

Izuku didn’t have time to stop him and was preparing for the worst.

That didn’t matter, though, because in a few seconds the student was unconscious, on the ground.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Izuku had some idea of what just happened. When his quirk first manifested, he could only control blood without having extremely painful migraines. This was due to him being a very late bloomer. Quirks are, in some way, like learning a language. Babies and toddlers are sponges – learning languages at that age is incredibly easy, just like quirks. However, suddenly gaining a quirk later in your life can be extremely traumatizing and painful. That’s why Midoriya’s quirk required adaptation. Biocide’s abilities were there since the very beginning, but Midoriya could only use a section of its power. He had time to experiment and know his limits, slowly pushing forward as he discovered new abilities.

Monoma, however, did not have this process of adaptation. So when he tried to activate his passive feature at full power, his brain was filled with thousands and thousands of lights. His senses were probably overloaded with information, which caused him to faint instantly. That meant that Monoma’s quirk had a very big weakness: he shouldn’t (because he technically could) copy quirks that required accumulating power. 

Or at least that was his theory. And if Izuku was correct, then he had seen and experimented Biocide’s full power. 

How many colors had Neito seen?

“UH…” Present Mic’s voice was heard through the speakers. “MONOMA IS UNCONSCIOUS, MIDORIYA ADVANCES TO THE NEXT ROUND!” The audience gave some unenthusiastic cheers at this, probably expecting more action.

Izuku whipped his head to see Aizawa on the corner, staring at him. He slowly walked towards him as he watched Neito being carried on a stretcher to Recovery Girl’s office.

“Em. I did not use my quirk.” He instantly denied it when he was in the hearing range of the hero.

“Yeah, I know. I know.” The teacher sighed. “I told Monoma to be careful about using your quirk, or any quirk that he doesn’t know how it works, really. He’s definitely getting a lecture on quirk safety later.”

The boy pouted. “Yeah, at least it’s something to learn from. I’m sure he won’t do that again in battle.”

“Kid, your quirk… you have to have a lot of mental strength if you’re able to use a quirk that instantly sends Monoma down.” The teacher arched his eyebrow, clearly prying for information.

He decided to humor him because it wasn't risky. “Oh, that’s because he used the quirk’s full power. I don’t do that. I get a headache if I do!” He chirped, a bit too cheerfully. Shouta noticed that he was talking to a different Midoriya. His two personalities were the two sides of a coin – one was overconfident, funny and snarky. He was very cunning and closed-off, as well as incredibly intelligent. He used his other personality rarely. This one was nervous, jittery and happy. He never said anything unrespectful, but his quick responses were still there, funny on some occasions. It was the one most of his classmates saw in him – a quiet and nice boy who desperately wanted to become a hero.

Aizawa was sure that this last one was just a facade, something he put on daily situations, a coping mechanism. If that was the case, then it was something to be concerned about. That was called trauma. 

The pro-hero nodded, ignoring the sudden change of tone. “How much power do you think you’re using right now?”

Midoriya stopped, not knowing what to answer. “I really don’t know. I know there’s still a lot of room for improvement. When I use my quirk something… something tugs at my chest, you know? Telling me that I could go further, that I could do more–” Midoriya shut himself up, shaking his head. “But I don’t want to. I can’t do that.” The boy stared at his palms, suddenly remembering the round, bloody wounds in a corpse he remembered too well. “So I try to develop my quirk in other ways, passively. And it’s working.”

“It’s good that you’re trying to break your barriers, Midoriya. But remember that you will have a lot of time to do so, alright? So don’t go around doing anything reckless.”

“Who would I be if I didn’t go around causing trouble?”

“Probably not the problem child I know.” The hero said, thoughtfully. “Hurry up and grab a seat, problem child number two is about to fight.”

Izuku nodded as he ran towards the building. “Thank you, sensei!”

Shouta sighed. No problem, kid.

Chapter Text

Beginner’s Guide to Biocide:

By: Midoriya Izuku

Page 12.

This journal has turned into my personal diary and I don’t like that. If someone read this I would be in so much trouble. 

I wanted to report the progress I’ve made with my quirk since my last entry. The answer is none. Absolutely zero. 

I found myself not wanting to explore my quirk at all these past few weeks. I don’t want to push my limits, I don’t want to try out new things or investigate other ideas. This is one mess of a quirk and I just want it gone. I don’t know what even is my quirk, dammit. 

I have to go now. Duty calls.

Shinsou’s fight ended in a blink of an eye. He was fighting against a boy of 1-B, he didn’t arrive early enough to hear the name – but Midoriya did catch Hitoshi’s words at the student. His friend was awfully observant, just like him, but he had to admit that Shinsou was quicker in his responses. He knew what to say and do in each and every moment, which was extremely useful for this event. Hitoshi must have noticed how the other student was anxiously looking at the audience, searching for someone. So Shinsou, as the good rival he is, asked if someone was watching.

The hero student was out of bounds within seconds. Midoriya shouted a very loud ‘BADASS’ from the seats as the audience went completely wild. Unless you were very sharp-eyed you wouldn’t know that his quirk was voiced-activated, hence that gave Hitoshi an advantage: no one knew how his quirk worked.

The two had had a conversation the day before the sports festival, in which Hitoshi confessed a lot of things. Midoriya didn’t know what made him admit everything about his life, quirk, and family, especially out loud – but it was horrifying. Not Hitoshi, of course, he was an angel , but what his friend, who almost considered a brother had gone through.

Physical and psychological abuse, child neglect, bullying.

It was so wrong. They were stupidly wrong to think that Shinsou would even have an ounce of villainy in him. 

He high-fived his classmate as he stepped out of the arena, a grin on his face. “Dude, you looked so cool out there.” 

“Yeah, I know.” The taller boy replied, shaking the sweat off his shirt. “You weren’t exactly subtle with all the screaming.”

Midoriya snickered as they both walked to the stands of the stadium.

Aizawa was unnerved about the following fight. It involved, undoubtedly, two powerhouses that had no self-control whatsoever. God, blame him if he was nervous, he didn’t care. But the fact that Midoriya and Todoroki were fighting against each other activated his fight-or-flight response too effortlessly.

Teenagers. They would make him go grey by the time they graduated. 

“Midoriya Izuku.” A deep voice resonated against the walls of the small hallway. Shouta jumped from the sofa he was taking a nap on and peeked through the door, only to see Endeavour, the number two hero, talking to his problem child.

The boy looked extremely small compared to the man. Izuku himself wasn’t very tall – Shota had the slight suspicion that it was due to not eating properly, but not the point right now – and the hero’s broad figure was imposing. He glanced at the teenager quickly, the pro-hero wouldn’t waste a second in rescuing him out of there if Midoriya felt intimidated.

Instead, he saw something different. There was a look in his eyes that Aizawa had seen so many times in battles – by villains, heroes, and vigilantes. The emerald in his irises turned dull and emotionless. His hands were at his sides, relaxed but alert. 

There was something in Endeavour that screamed danger to the boy, and Shouta only knew one thing. He wasn’t intimidated or scared by the number two hero, no. 

Izuku was violent. At that moment, it wasn’t the man who intimidated the child.

It was the complete opposite.

The kid turned around, giving the hero a wide, fake smile. “Oh, you. What do you want? I kind of have a fight right now, I can’t stay for long.” Midoriya stared at his flaming shoes, confused by the engineering behind it. “Wait, are your shoes designed to be on fire? I know someone who would love to know the specifications of it.”

Shouta almost laughed. His way of addressing the adult, much less the number two pro-hero was ridiculously disrespectful (and funny). Izuku, in Aizawa’s opinion, had the ability to irradiate charisma at all moments, but in situations like this, situations that potentially involve danger – that’s when he took the spotlight.

The man pointed at Izuku with his index finger, disregarding the comment about the shoes. “I watched your fight against the copycat student. When he copied your quirk and used it, he passed out.” The teacher thought he heard the boy mutter something along the words of ‘impressive for someone with two brain cells’. 

“Your power must be quite impressive then. Shouto also used his fire against you, which the foolish boy had refused to do.”

Aizawa could see Midoriya’s face heating up. He was ready to step in any moment now.

“And what about it?” The kid childishly replied, looking at Endeavour straight into his eyes. 

“Do not hold back against Shouto. This will be a good test run to see how prepared he is against a powerful enemy, so he can one day surpass All Might. Do not disgrace yourself or him in this fight.” The stiff hero replied.

Enemy. Those words stung, and he wasn’t even the one they were directed to.

“Enemy, huh?” The green-head smiled, letting out a short huff. “Endeavour, I am definitely not like All Might. In fact, nowhere close.”

The pro-hero solemnly nodded as he watched the kid walk towards the exit. “Same goes for Todoroki. He’s never going to become anything like you.”

“I will make sure he doesn’t.”

The fight was about to start. Crowds and crowds of people in the public were chanting Todoroki’s and Midoriya’s names – they’ve seen them both fight before and it was exciting for them, so now they just wanted more.

Shouta was sitting on his seat, unable to make any comments about the upcoming fight as Yamada announced Midoriya’s entrance. After listening to the conversation between Endeavour and Izuku, his nerves skyrocketed. The worst part is that they were already pretty high up. 

He didn’t know how Midoriya would win without using his quirk. The teacher was aware that problem child had bombs and more weapons than he should, yet he couldn’t help but feel a freezing sensation on his back, telling him that something was about to go wrong.

Aizawa saw the kid’s green eyes on the big screen panels. He had an open smile plastered on his face, so radiant it could make him forget all of the scars on his face and body. The pro-hero’s lip twitched. He could understand body scars after years of vigilantism, but face ones? He touched his own scar instinctively.

His eyes moved to the other side of the field – Todoroki, ever so serious, was walking towards the center. His confidence in Izuku faltered. Would he be able to defeat that without using his quirk? 

Shouta held his breath as the fight started. The dual user used the same opening strategy that he had used last fight, which Izuku dodged. The teacher wasn’t surprised – Midoriya had much more battle experience than the other student – but it was a bit impressive to see that he knew exactly where he would direct the ice. Hizashi also found this cool, because he was screaming his lungs out about it through the microphone.

He saw both of his students dance around ice, bombs, and punches for about a minute. For the audience, it wasn’t much time, but he knew how those kids were feeling right now. Every second was eternal in a battle. Every move, position, and strategy could cost you your life. He wasn’t sure if Todoroki was playing that game, but he knew Midoriya was. After you play the alive or dead game a few times, you can never go back to child’s play.

Shouta knew that Izuku could end this fight in seconds. He had seen it before: Keres making villains fall unconscious just by looking into their eyes, others begging him to kill them because the pain of their blood clotting around his system was too much for them. He had only seen the latter once, on one of his patrols at night. He remembered the alleyway too vividly – the sound of the mice squeaking, the boots of people splashing the small water puddles on the ground. The screams of a girl, begging for help. Keres appeared in a matter of seconds. 

Aizawa thought that he could never let go of that image. To this day, he still hasn’t. It was one of those things that made the teacher think about his state – was he comfortable with all of the things he had to do to save people? The villains were always unharmed, the boy always made sure he didn’t leave any lasting damage, but wouldn’t it be mentally destructive to make others feel pain, even though your only intention is to do good?

One thing was clear: the kid didn’t regret that night.

He focused his attention back to the fight. 

“You’re shaking, Todoroki.” Midoriya said, lips quivering. His right leg was partially encased in ice and his shoulder as well. The adrenaline of the fight was enough to brush the feeling of coldness away, but when they stopped moving it returned. It wasn’t pleasant. 

“There’s a physical limit to your quirk.” The green-head stated with a shaky smile on his lips. It was obvious now. It was basic quirk theory, after all – every quirk had a disadvantage. In Shouto’s case, it was maintaining the equilibrium. Not too cold, not too hot. 

“You’ll get frostbite if you don’t stop yourself and honestly, I don’t recommend it.” He shouted while dodging a line of ice coming in his direction. “I’m talking from experience!”

“What are you planning, Midoriya?” The hero-course student asked, blocking a grenade with a mountain of ice. 

“Look, I for once would love to explore your limits.” He bit his lower lip while jumping, a thick red liquid flowing out of it moments after. “But there’s an easy way to stop the frostbite. You won’t beat me with your right side only.” Midoriya wiped the blood with his arm. 

The green-head saw Shouto approach, but he was considerably slower than before. His eyebrows twitched in disappointment as he took a taser gun from his pocket, lowering it so that the other boy couldn’t see it. 

He aimed at his torso when he was close enough for the taser barb to penetrate his skin. “I wouldn’t play the close game if I were you.” Todoroki took a step back, knowing he was too weak to pull a big ice attack at that moment. 

“I don’t know you, Todoroki. I don’t know if you genuinely want to become a hero or not, but I know one thing.” He saw the other boy step back. “You won’t be a hero if you don’t give your all in each and every fight.”

“I don’t see you using your quirk either.” Shouto snapped, making a mountain of ice beneath him.

Midoriya laughed, adrenaline taking control of the situation. “You want me to use my quirk? Right, let’s fucking go, Todoroki.” He took a bomb out of his vest, destroying the mountain of ice with it. “Let’s stop playing games, then.”

He smiled, raising a hand towards the dual user. “After all, they're our powers, aren't them?”

Izuku saw something in Shouto’s eyes change. In some way, he understood his pain. He understood what it felt like to have a quirk you didn’t want, a quirk that only causes harm and destruction. 

With time you learn that even the worst quirks can do great things when presented with the right occasion. 

Beautiful red and golden flames covered Todoroki’s left side, the ice from the starting frostbite melting in seconds. Izuku glanced at them for a second, enjoying the warm feeling in his chest.

“Helping the enemy… you don’t have much experience in this, do you?” His opponent muttered.

Midoriya laughed at the irony of it. “Possibly more than you imagine.” He whispered. 

“I also want to be a hero.” Shouto stated, confidence coating his words. Izuku couldn’t help but smile. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?” Golden flames framed his left side. “Don’t blame me for what is about to happen.”

“I could say the same thing.” Midoriya replied without missing a beat. “I promised you something too.” 

Shouto pushed his feet downwards, covering the floor with ice. Izuku stepped forward a few meters.

“I’m so sorry, Todoroki.”

Shouto frowned as he charged against his opponent. Midoriya did the same, grabbing two grenades from his pockets.

The crowd held their breaths as they ran towards each other. Their bodies would collide in a matter of seconds. Izuku saw the audience, their figures full of bright lights circling inside them. Time seemed to freeze as he pulled the lock from the grenades, throwing them to the floor.

Shouto saw a pair of golden eyes.

A loud sound covered the stadium.

And everything went black.

Chapter Text

The strong scent of antiseptic was the first thing that Midoriya noticed as he woke up, his closed eyes squinting in discomfort. He could hear a masculine voice whispering, and the smooth scratching sound of pens against papers. He moved his right hand towards his face, becoming aware of the bandages covering part of it. 

Izuku sighed in discontentment, opening his eyes. The room was white and small, full of stretchers. A boy rested on the bed next to him, pristine blankets covering his body tightly. He recognized his hair, dual-colored. 

“He’ll be fine.” The voice stated.

Izuku whipped his head at the man. Aizawa stared at him with a frown, shifting his gaze towards Todoroki every few seconds. He was sitting in a stool that seemed uncomfortable, with a stack of papers in his lap. The boy tried to peek at them, only to receive a mean glare from his teacher. It looked like legal paperwork, though. 

“Hizashi wanted to come and visit you, but he’s too occupied entertaining the public while Cementoss fixes the stadium.” He mumbled, signing one of the pages. 

Midoriya was puzzled for a moment. Then he remembered the grenades, his quirk, and Todoroki's fire.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” The teacher mocked him. “What you did was absolutely ridiculous.”

There was no following comment about the matter. Izuku admitted that what he did had been fatuous, and that he had completely disregarded his safety. Using grenades to cover the use of his quirk had been technically unnecessary and had only put him at risk, using them near his side so that the explosion wouldn't hurt Todoroki. 

“I would do it again.” He croaked, his voice still rough from the match. 

The pro-hero nodded. “I know you would.” He grumbled, leaving his papers on a nearby counter. 

He pursed his lips as he recounted the list of injuries. “Lacerations on your left leg, along with some burns that your quirk wasn’t able to fix. Todoroki’s fire burnt the upper side of your face. Fortunately, it didn’t reach your eye, but you’ll still have a nice scar to remind you what happens when you play with fire.” 

It was clear that Aizawa disapproved of what he had done. One of his students had purposely jeopardized themselves for the benefit of another person, who so happened to be competing against him. It defeated the purpose of the sports festival. After all, it was created to show who the strongest student is, their talent, and their capabilities. 

But Shouta wasn't a hypocrite. Strength and talent aren't all there is to becoming a hero. A real hero showed compassion, responsibility, and most importantly, the need and want to help others. 

Midoriya had shown heroic abilities in this battle, and that was something to be acknowledged by pro-heroes and scouting agencies. All minus the responsibility part, of course.

Izuku broke eye contact. “And him?” He said, pointing at his classmate. 

The teacher focused his gaze on Shouto. “Low blood pressure and a severe concussion. Minor injuries, most of them from the actual fighting, not the explosion.” He sighed, staring at the kid. "We'll talk about your self-destructive tendencies later."

They had a lot to talk about 'later' anyway. 

The boy coughed. “So that means I’m out, right? Todoroki won?” He asked, a glint of desperation in his eyes. 

The man's eyebrows furrowed as he huffed, shaking his head. “In my opinion, neither of you should continue. The medical team disagrees. Todoroki is overall okay, but he’s going to be weak for a few days. His concussion is grave, so even if he woke up right now, he wouldn’t be able to fight.” 

“You, on the other hand, have superficial damage, and your quirk has taken care of significant damage. Recovery Girl healed all of your burns. Your muscles might be a bit stiff, but you’ll do okay.” He sighed, watching the boy’s face. "According to them, at least."

Izuku looked at his lap, playing with his fingers. “Aizawa-sensei, I don’t think you understand." He breathed, his arms shaking enough for the teacher to notice.

"My quirk works in a similar way to Recovery Girl’s." He continued. "I am using my body’s platelets to close injuries, I do not generate them.” He let out a weak laugh. “My limbs are shaking from quirk overuse. I won’t be able to use it for the rest of the competition.”

"I'm just really tired." Izuku whispered, alarming the man. 

Shouta was sure that the battle had been very tiring, and that the events preceding it had also taken a toll on the kid. This wasn't about that, though. Midoriya wasn't physically tired, it was mental exhaustion. 

Oh, kid.

“Midoriya, you can always leave the competition.” The teacher offered, trying to create an easy escape for him. “No one is going to judge you if you do.”

He knew that it wouldn't be enough. Izuku had fought for so long and so hard, the word surrender wasn't in his vocabulary anymore. That's why he was so anxious about the medics allowing him to continue – he didn't have an excuse to stop. 

As if he had read his thoughts, Midoriya rolled his eyes. “Can I take my bandages off?” 

Aizawa stood up from the little stool he was sitting on as he nodded, watching the child as he took the woven material off of his face. He delicately touched his new scar, which covered his forehead and stopped on top of his eyebrow. The burn dropped to the side of his face, almost reaching his ear. 

“One more to the collection.” He sighed, trying to joke it off. 

He now sat on his stretcher and rolled his legs, trying to fix the cramping of his legs. The teacher sighed, reluctant to switch the topic. 

“You better stop collecting those if you want to graduate, kid.” Aizawa retorted. “Now, there’s one more thing. In the explosion, when you used your quirk–”

“I don’t want to talk about my quirk–” The boy tried to cut him off, mostly in vain. 

Aizawa knew he shouldn't have continued. He should have just shut up, and let the kid have the remainings of his sanity left intact.

But he didn't. 

And this is the exact moment in which the butterfly effect began.

“–your eyes. They were golden, Midoriya.” The hero finished with hesitance. 

Izuku gulped, focusing on the white wall in front of him.

“I’ve only seen your quirk active one time, aside from this one. Your eyes weren’t golden.” The man pried.

“My eyes– my eyes have never been golden.” He replied, refusing to make eye contact with his teacher. Gold was a color Izuku didn’t remember, or at least tried not to. 

Aizawa saw his student's body freeze in place. His eyes were unfocused, lost.

“And I believe you, Midoriya.” The teacher whispered, now aware of the boy’s distress. “Perhaps you… remember something? Did one of your parents have a quirk that made their eyes golden?” He paused, realizing he had gone in too deep. Unfortunately, it was too late now.

“No.” The boy shook his face vigorously, his knuckles turning white. He stared at his teacher with impassive eyes. “No one in my family had golden eyes.”

He had lost faculties, the teacher quickly realized as he entered the radio booth, where Present Mic was preparing for the next fight. A few years ago, Shouta would have been able to tell if a kid was lying over anything. Now, he wasn’t so sure. 

He would have to fact-check himself. He quickly dialed a number. No more than two tones played before the call was picked up.

“Hello, Eraserhead. Aren’t you in the middle of the sports festival right now?” The detective asked, a hint of worry in his voice. No small talk was done between the two – they had worked together too many years for pleasantries. 

“Yes, but this is regarding Keres’ case.” He whispered, making sure that Hizashi wouldn’t hear the conversation. “I need you to tell me if either of Midoriya’s parents had golden eyes, or had a quirk that changed their eye colors.”

The teacher heard some shuffling behind the line, plausibly rummaging for the papers that showed that type of information. “According to his family history, his mother had some type of telekinesis quirk. A pretty weak one. Doesn’t correlate with Midoriya’s quirk.”

He hummed. “And his father?”

“There’s no listing for his quirk.” The detective muttered with a hint of perplexity in his voice.

Shouta’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, essentially.” Tsukauchi sighed. “If the father had been quirkless his file would have said so, but it’s empty. We have no information on Midoriya Hisashi.”

“Fuck.” Aizawa cursed, closing his eyes. “It’s all dead ends with this kid, isn’t it?”

“In a way, it’s not.” The man realized, pleased with his discovery. “From this, we can safely assume something from the father. He was trying to hide his quirk from the system.”

“The same way Midoriya is trying to do with us.” Shouta connected.

A sound of agreement came from the phone. “Yes, but Midoriya did put his quirk into the system. His father did not. There’s a great difference there.”

“I don't know if I like what you’re implying.”

“Eraserhead… this might turn into a proper investigation sooner than we thought.” 

“You lost against Bakugou?” Midoriya asked, examining Shinsou, who was sitting on one of the stretchers. 

Hitoshi nodded. “Yeah. And you won against Iida.”

“Yeah.”

The fight hadn’t been long. Iida was fast, but he was mainly a short-distance attacker. That meant that Midoriya could use his short-distance weapons too, which he dominated. When the hero-course student got close enough Midoriya shot an electrical current with his knife towards his engines, making him fall to the ground. It was game over from there.

Shinsou, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. He had already used his quirk on Bakugou before. Katsuki might seem like a very impulsive person, but it was quite the opposite. In battle, all of his moves were calculated, and if winning a fight meant no talking, we would do just that.

“It’s the final round, Midoriya. You can do it.” The purple-head muttered, placing one of his hands on his friend’s shoulder.

Izuku let out a sad laugh, looking to the side. “It sounds easy if you say it like that.”

“I’m not saying he’s going to be an easy opponent. Especially without your quirk,” Shinsou admitted, trying to get his friend to make eye contact with him. “what are you going to do?”

Hitoshi could tell something was going on in Midoriya’s brain. At first, he’d thought it was stress – vigilante stuff, school, or him being kidnapped  – but this was something different. He’d seen him masking his own emotions before with sarcastic jokes, fake smiles, and the occasional rude remark, but it was never this dull. He was the embodiment of apathy. It was as if he truly didn’t care what happened next. It hadn't been a sudden change, he had seen him slowly turn more and more closed off since USJ, but this had been the final stroke. 

He didn't know if anything he did would help.

The boy in question shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Okay,” Hitoshi replied, trying to conceal the fear in his voice. “Just know that any decision you make I’ll be okay with, alright? Everyone’s proud of you already.”

Izuku gave him a small smile, somewhat amused. “What’s up with you, mother hen?” Hitoshi could see him touching his wrists, rolling his fingers around them. “For the record, you were amazing too. Third place? That’s impressive.”

“Okay, Mr. First or Second place.”

“Mr. Second place, I think.”

Hitoshi sighed. “Either way, It’ll be okay.” He offered him a small smile.

Needless to say, it wasn’t returned.

The darkroom was oddly warm. The boy sat on a table, silently staring at the bright light that was placed in front of him, shrinking his pupils to two small black dots in his irises. His breathing was ragged, his chest hastily going up and down, trying to fill his lungs with the oxygen that they were being deprived of. A figure stared at him from the corner, their dull eyes fixing on the little hands that desperately gripped onto the table. 

The figure could see the boy’s blue lights, gathering once again at the bottom of his small lungs, waiting for their extraction. The figure chuckled humorlessly, unruffled by the defiance of the child. After all, that’s what they needed for it to work. They tucked at their gloved hands, the green latex making his skin sweat. 

The boy saw the figure approach him. He didn’t whine this time. He closed his eyes, not before seeing two golden sparks observing him, waiting for the agony to appear on his face.

Chapter Text

He never really liked the smell of beer. The bar was full of it that afternoon, villains gathering around a small and old television, most of them wearing tattered clothes and low-grade weapons. He was mildly disgusted by them, their inexperience clearly reflected on their attires. It was none of his business, he quickly decided. If the league thought having such a rabble in their rooster would be beneficial for them, then so be it. 

With a glance, he saw the emblematic logo of the top hero school on the screen. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of interest. The man wasn’t there to watch U.A’s sports festival, but he was indeed curious about the results. Only because it concerned his research, of course.

Turning around, he gave a quick nod towards the misty figure behind the counter. Kurogiri left his position, creating a portal for him to go through. It had been a common occurrence for those past few weeks, so no questions were asked. He hated having to go through such a transport method, but he did appreciate the quirk behind it. 

The man was teleported to a remote location. He hadn’t been able to discover the address, to his dismay. He respected the villains for having created a remarkably secure hideout, but he guessed it was the work of the leader. He was the only one with enough intellect to design it.

The leader insisted on being called Sensei. His real name was also a mystery for the man, but it wasn’t as troublesome as not knowing his location. He hated having to go through some pawns first to make an appointment with him. It was degrading. 

“Doctor. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” The man said. He was sitting on a rather expensive looking chair, covered in velvet, golden swirls decorating the dark wood. 

The doctor thought he was a very tasteful individual, always dressed in classic and expensive suits. His choices in furniture and clothing contrasted with his face, which was utterly destroyed. Cables were wrapped around his neck, connected into him in all ways possible. Perhaps the most noticeable part was his lack of eyes, replacing them with scarred tissue all along the area.

“Likewise. I see your health is improving.” He replied, not taking a seat. The discussion wouldn't be long. 

The leader’s laugh boomed across the room, creating a small echo that followed his next words. “It is indeed. Partially thanks to you.”

“I wouldn't say that. I just made a few recommendations to your medical advisor.” He admitted. Being humble wasn't one of his fortes per se, but it worked beautifully on Sensei. It was one of the factors that made communication with him easy: they both said what the other wanted to hear. That way both parties were satisfied.

“Of course. And to why do I owe this sudden visit?”

It was partly his fault for not having controlled his experiments effectively. It had been an hour since he realized something had changed, and half an hour since he arranged a meeting with Kurogiri. 

“It concerns my study. I thought this new development would interest you.”

“Continue.” The other returned, drawn to the topic. 

“It seems that my first test subject developed the abilities we were looking for.” The doctor revealed, passion audible in his voice.

“That’s quite interesting. After all these years?” If the man was impressed, he didn’t show it.

“It seems so. I would have to take a deeper look at the results, but unfortunately, that specimen is no longer in my possession.”

Sensei hummed. “And you’re asking me to get it for you.”

The doctor hummed, pleased with the other man’s intuition.

“It would be simple.” He explained. “If everything goes accordingly, your league would only have to make a few modifications to the plan of the event. That would be the perfect time to pick it up.”

There were a few moments of silence, the leader considering his request. He didn’t ask how he knew about their plans, and he didn’t seem displeased at the fact that he had figured it out.

“If it is as easy as you say it will be, then I’m sure we can get it for you.” He paused. “I’m glad to see your investigations are finally bearing fruit, doctor." The man finally agreed, ending the conversation.

The doctor smiled, turning around. “So am I.”

Shouta never realized the possible complications that Midoriya’s fight against Bakugou could produce. Conversations were easy to forget, and more were the details in them. 

He didn’t recall Izuku’s twitching as he told him about his childhood months ago, how he gripped his arms as he explained how Katsuki constantly teased him. Aizawa only remembered how the conversation ended, with Izuku giving him a reassuring smile, saying that it was all in the past. That it didn’t affect him anymore. Shouta prided himself in his ability to detect lies — especially from his students. Why didn’t he pry more into that relationship? Was he so blinded about the possibility of Midoriya being Keres that he had forgotten about the most important thing? The well-being of his student?

Aizawa sighed, massaging his temples. There was no point in stopping this now, not when both boys were already waiting on the sidelines, preparing themselves for battle.

In hero training, students were taught about mental health. It was an itchy subject in the country, but it was something that was necessary to talk about in the hero industry. They were the heroes of tomorrow. They would be the ones to put themselves out there, fighting unimaginable pain to save people. That, in the end, always brought consequences.

He remembered the first time he was introduced to the topic, big bold words written on an old chalkboard: 

Who are you going to save, if you’re the one who needs saving?

In Shouta’s opinion, it was a flawed question. Heroes weren’t invincible, and even the symbol of peace had needed help at some point of his life too. Nevertheless, he understood the message that it tried to send. Students needed to know that it was okay to feel guilty, depressed, and burdened by the things they would have to live with.

Izuku hadn’t had this training, and even if he had, there was no guarantee that it would fix anything, not when he had already gone through more trauma than any person could have prepared themselves for.

Because that was a reality for Midoriya. He was a ticking bomb that would be detonated with even the smallest trigger — a person, a comment, an image, or a memory — and could Shouta do something to prevent it?

Not now. It was too late for that.

Perhaps, if he had noticed the signs earlier, he could have gotten him the care he needed. Maybe he could have solved his case sooner, making a deal with the police or even keeping his secret identity under wraps for his own sake. Maybe the kid would be in the process of getting better.

This fight shouldn’t have happened. Not because of the injuries sustained in his fight with Todoroki. Not because of the quirk exhaustion. Even if those were already good enough reasons for the kid to drop out of the festival, one took precedence. One that was ignored by all doctors who went to check on Midoriya.

U.S.J came to his mind as he saw Izuku enter the stadium, seconds away from the start of the fight. He remembered Keres, the vigilante who he had thought to be cooperating with villains. His shock when he heard the boy’s speech, the absolute hatred that carried his words.

Keres said that heroes believe everyone has the right to be saved. He said that sometimes some people were too far to reach, too cursed to be helped. 

Aizawa wondered if he was talking about himself. 

“Fight back, you useless fuck!”

Midoriya said nothing, stepping aside to dodge another explosion. Bakugou’s movements were getting repetitive, easy to predict. The raw power of his attacks was enough to do some superficial damage to his skin, but not enough to stop him from quickly evading his attacks. He could feel the soles of his shoes warm, but the sweat on his face was cold, sticking to him.

Maybe Katsuki was right. He wasn’t fighting back, just like when they were kids. He hadn’t changed at all – he was the same scared kid, trying to dodge the punches being aimed at his face. The worst part was that, even after years of experience and training, Bakugou could still inflict some damage on him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell Midoriya one thing: it wasn’t enough. He felt the knot forming in his throat muting him, intrusive thoughts pushing through his brain. Was all of what he did for nothing, then? All of he did to change his mistakes, to become better… was all of it a futile attempt to become good? Was he just playing hero, breaking the law to appease his guilt?

Izuku gasped for air as he dodged another explosion, his lungs feeling smaller with every step.

“You think you’re better than me, huh? Evading all of the attacks like a scared nerd?”

Katsuki formed part of the worst years of his life. He was the only living reminder of what happened. They were all right, in the end. He would never become a hero, because even if he saved a million people – even if he saved the entire world – nothing would change what he did. Nothing would erase his past and his mistakes, and nothing would change the fact that he was trained to become what he really is. 

And what he is, is not a hero. 

“I don’t blame your father for doing what he did.”

Cold sweat covered Izuku’s hairline as he ran backward, too weak now to counterattack. He could feel his body tense with every movement, his brain fuzzier with every jump. Bakugou’s taunts and insults were fading in the static sound that flooded his insides. The explosions, – too bright, too similar to flashing lights – blinded him, dark spots blocking his vision.

Katsuki’s screams started mixing with his thoughts, the line between the present and the past dissolving into one. 

Gold eyes staring at him while he cried, holes in his arms and legs. His mother laying on the floor, blood rushing out of her wounds. His ribs slowly being disintegrated, flesh, and bones on top of his damaged lungs. The police, questioning him for hours. The silence in the therapist’s room, the clock ticking unceasingly as a woman stared at him, worry on her face.

Midoriya knew he could have ended it quickly. Katsuki, despite being a prodigy, hadn’t had the years of experience and intensive training. He had never had to fight for his life, or run from the police, or survive a kidnapping situation.

But perhaps, all of those experiences were what made Izuku weak. 

“I would have left too.”

Izuku knew how to fight better than any first-year student.

“You’re useless.”

He knew how to work around bigger and stronger people than him.

“Fucking trash.”

He knew how to survive.

“Just die already.”

And despite all of that, Midoriya found himself lifting both of his quivering arms, releasing a strangled breath. 

“I forfeit.”

The bar was almost empty now. The villains that were previously sitting on the chairs next to the television were scattered around the bar, sitting on high stools. The doctor was on one of those seats, downing an expensive liquor down his throat. 

He squinted his eyes as he eyed the awards ceremony. The second-place position was vacant, the gap filled by quick apologies from a pro-hero. 

Indisposed. That was the excuse.

Despite everything, you are still weak.

How ironic.

The doctor smiled as he exited the bar.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you can’t find Midoriya Izuku?” Aizawa snapped over the phone as he ran down the building’s halls.

The fight, as predicted, was a catastrophe. When Shouta saw how Izuku entered the stage, pale, exhaustion framing the corner of his eyes – he knew everything was going to come crashing down. The kid had been on defense since the battle started, and that was another big red flag. Midoriya’s fighting style was based on being quick and witty, distracting the enemy with harsh but planned movements to win the fight, yet he hadn’t even dared to glance towards his utility belt. His movements felt lazy, mechanical, and almost out of instinct, simply getting out of the way when an explosion was aimed at him.

And then, Midoriya surrendered.

Shouta had seen the fight. He had seen Midoriya’s weird sluggish movements, he had seen the paleness of his skin, his deadpan expression as he fought the other boy, seeming to be in another world – eyes completely lost in his thoughts. He had seen how his movements slowed down, scorching his body. And finally, he had seen the weak voice in which Midoriya uttered his last words before fainting, his body collapsing on the ground with a loud thud. That was the moment Shouta knew that he had failed Midoriya. He had failed Midoriya as his teacher, and even as an adult – probably the only stable one in his life, he remembered, wincing at the thought. He hadn’t been there when he screamed for help with his eyes, or when he practically begged to be taken out of the sports festival.

Not only that, but the kid was missing.

What a fucking mess.

A voice coughed through the line. “Well, we were checking his vitals and he suddenly woke up–” The nurse on the line stopped talking, voices shouting in the background. “He ripped all of the cables out of him and ran out of the room.”

“He panicked,” Aizawa muttered. Of course he did. He just had a mental breakdown on live television – not that anyone could tell except Shouta. The kid was too good at hiding his emotions. Another concerning thing to add to the list, he bitterly thought. Finding himself covered in cables and disoriented after fainting wouldn’t be particularly pleasing to anyone, especially for the kid, whose fight-or-flight instinct was incredibly alert.

The nurse seemed to agree with his words, letting out a small hum. “We have sent a psychologist and a doctor to search for him, Eraserhead. The situation is under control.” She exclaimed, trying to be reassuring. The woman hadn’t been expecting a call from a pro-hero. After all, it was just protocol – a student fainted at the sports festival, it happens constantly. His homeroom teacher would be informed of the situation so that the kid could be picked up by his tutors. It was rare to see a pro-hero calling the infirmary to ask after the conditions of said student. Yet no kid had ever escaped the infirmary either.

Aizawa, on the other hand, had to stop himself from shouting. This was the problem. This was what made Midoriya so hesitant to trust adults and pro-heroes: their inability to recognize when someone was suffering on the inside . How many times had he been let down like this by one of them? How many times had he asked for help directly, and gotten rejected or brushed off because of who he was? Maybe, Shouta thought, a knot in his throat forming slowly, that’s why Midoriya tends to not voice his pain. Because thinks it is useless.

A waste of energy, even.

“Under control?” He growled into the phone, mocking her words. “You just let a mentally unstable 14-year-old child ran out of your fucking infirmary, where he was supposed to be kept in until I arrived. Do you think he’s going to willingly go with your little rescue team when they find him?”

“Well, per protocol–” She quickly tried to defend herself.

He cut her off immediately, anger coating his words. “With all due respect, protocols have never worked with this kid. In his state, he could hurt someone or himself if he finds the situation dangerous. So, no unknown people around the kid. Tell them to stay back, I’ll handle the situation.” He passive-aggressively said, hanging up the phone.

The teacher sighed as he paced the empty corridors, glancing at every room he passed by. This was due to happen at some point. The incompetence of the people around him combined with his ongoing hero complex is what made this situation occur. He shouldn’t have let Midoriya participate in that final round, he should have seen the quiet begging in his eyes, the pain, the accumulated trauma. He had been so focused on the vigilante that he didn’t analyze the person behind that facade.

That had been his first and biggest mistake. Keres, in all rights, was a criminal. But Izuku was just a child.

The vigilante shouldn’t have been his priority. The hero mentality was to blame: slowly, your way of thinking starts shifting. Villains aren’t people anymore, but evil beings who deserve to be punished. Victims are just pawns in this sick world-wide game that society decided to start playing when quirks first appeared. Vigilantes turn into poltergeists, figures who help and destroy at the same time. Unconsciously, your brain accepts these definitions, and you dissociate from the truth. Villains, victims, and vigilantes are all people, humans with families, aspirations, and worth.

He stopped pacing, thoughts flashing through his brain. Whether he was to blame or not, he had the duty to fix this. Find the kid, comfort him, and do better. Get him into some type of counseling and find a stable environment for him.

Shouta reached the end of the long hallway. There stood a small inconspicuous door, which Shouta knew led to the stairs to the basement. The door had been unlocked for the commodity – all the materials related to the event were stored there. The teacher gripped the cold handle, closing his eyes before opening it softly.

“Kid. It’s me.” The man whispered into the darkness of the stairs. There was no answer, which made him follow the path towards the basement. The light was turned off, only the brightness from the hallway giving him some vision into the place. The place was crowded with decorations and machines, and the silence was deafening. If the pro-hero hadn't looked everywhere else, he would have thought no one was there. No breathing sounds, no ruffling, nothing. “Can I get closer?”

And then, a sharp breath intake.

There, between two large U.A banners, was a small figure, knees pressed against its chest, head in between them. Next to the props and figurines, he looked younger, as if the breakdown had taken years from his body as well, leaving him defenseless. He was shaking, an aftereffect from the shock. Crying, maybe. The teacher couldn’t tell by the sound, as he was silent, but from his hands, which were shiny against the little light the room offered.

Aizawa didn’t want to push it – not now that he had found him – so he sat down away from him, next to the staircase. He let out a low sigh as he assessed the situation. What could he say, when Midoriya had probably heard everything by now, and nothing had worked? Instead, he resigned himself to wait, resting his head against the concrete wall.

“I’m sorry.” A weak voice muttered, slowly. Shouta straightened up and frowned at the apology. It was strange for it to be the first thing he said to him, but it was enough. He just had to follow the kid’s train of thought.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, a concerned tone coming out of his mouth before he could stop it. The kid needed to trust him. He needed to be able to understand that he would be there for him, even if Izuku didn’t want to say anything. Getting a reply to this question wasn’t really important. What was important was implied in the simple act of asking.

There was a beat of silence, the boy’s silence ceasing with a few quiet sniffles. Maybe he was searching for a reason behind his apology, trying to understand why he said sorry.

Aizawa could hear him opening his mouth, breathing in through it before speaking. “For letting you down.” The kid replied, voice quiet. The last part of the sentence broke in his throat, a sob releasing in its place.

The instant he uttered those words, an immense amount of guilt and pity dropped to his stomach. It was clear that it had been mentally draining for him to admit that, even if he hadn’t said much – because Shouta was probably the only person in his life that had acknowledged his abilities. He had believed in him. Still does. Wasn’t it natural that, in the end, Midoriya wanted to make him proud?

This kid. He was going to be the end of him someday.

“Take back your apology, Midoriya.” The man whispered, his tone impossibly soft. “You didn’t let me down.” And oh, did he mean that. He just wished this kid would understand that nothing he could ever do would let him down.

That’s what itched Shouta the most when it came to Izuku. It was clear that he had developed some type of weakness for this kid. He couldn’t scold him in class when he did something stupid without feeling guilty afterward. He couldn’t help but fret about his math grades when they dropped, or when he came to class with a black eye. At some point, he even bribed Hizashi into buying the poor kid snacks because he could see how hungry he was after patrolling.

“But–” the boy choked on a sob, scattering Aizawa’s thoughts. “I should have won. You wanted me to win.”

That was true, the teacher admitted. How could he not want him to win? Midoriya had everything a student needed to win this competition: passion, dedication, and skill. It was only right for him to win. If they weren’t in that situation, Aizawa realized, he would have had to stifle a laugh. One of the things he prided himself on was his ability to not have favorites. He would never hint any kind of partiality towards a student, yet he had overlooked every rule in his personal handbook when it came to Izuku. The worst part was that said student was aware of this favoritism.

“Yes,” He admitted, considering his next words. There was no point in denying it when he had been so adamant about it. “because you deserved to win. That doesn’t mean you have let me down.”

There was a silence in between his words. “You did what you could, and I understand that.” Aizawa continued. “I’m proud of you for it.”

Izuku didn’t reply, but his silent tears weren’t silent anymore, his quiet sobs louder against the walls of the wide room. Shouta didn’t think an answer was necessary, not right now at least. There were certain things that they would have to discuss, like why was he prioritizing his teacher’s opinion about him rather than his well-being (in a way, Shouta already knew the answer – he just wasn’t ready to accept it), but that could be addressed in another occasion. After all, time is all he had in his favor.

“It isn’t– it isn’t fair.”

Aizawa breathed in, standing up from his uncomfortable seat. “No, it isn’t.” He said as he walked towards the kid’s hiding spot. The man stopped when he was three steps away from him, sitting down on one of the props laying on the floor.

He gauged his reaction, pausing before saying his next words. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” Shouta didn’t know what the kid was referring to. It might have been the sports festival, his past, or maybe the whole situation he was going through. Regardless of what it was, he didn’t deserve any of it. No one deserves it.

Izuku didn’t talk for a while. He stared at the wall in front of him, searching for something he couldn’t find. His eyes seemed unfocused in the subtle lighting of the room. The teacher took this moment of silence as an opportunity to assess his condition – his arms and legs, full of small blisters from his lazy dodges. His face, littered with bruises from punches he couldn’t escape. Aizawa couldn’t help but stare at the scars on his arms, scars that linked him to Keres. This kid would be permanently marked, is permanently marked at such a young age. Those are reminders of what he lived. The trauma would be forever imprinted into his skin.

“Why is it always me?” An air of resignation hung around his words – too tired and weak as if he already knew exactly why it was always him. The teacher didn’t like how rhetorical the question was framed, yet he didn’t dare to ask.

“Life tends to make good people suffer,” Shouta argued.

Midoriya quickly shook his head, letting out a sad laugh. “No,” He mumbled, stroking his hands in small circles along his exhausted face. “it’s the other way around.”

The implications startled Shouta. He knew that Izuku’s self-worth wasn’t great from previous interactions, but he had never thought that he considered himself a bad person. This kid constantly went out of his way to help people, to make them feel safe. If anything could be said about Midoriya, it is that he was undoubtedly a good person.

“You have been through horrible things.” The man started, looking at the boy with sad eyes. “That doesn’t mean– it doesn’t make you evil, Midoriya.”

Midoriya glanced at his teacher, his body shaking before opening his mouth. “And what if I did the horrible things?” His voice was a little louder this time, as if he wanted to make sure his teacher heard the question.

A warning and a plea, Aizawa realized. He was trying to push him away, a confession of something major. At the same time, he was begging for validation. He was begging for someone to tell him that what he did wasn’t as bad as he thought, that he wasn’t the villain he believed himself to be.

Shouta opened his mouth to reply, but not a single word came out of it. The boy’s words disturbed him. Was this survivor guilt, or a real revelation? He didn’t want to dwell on the second option. Izuku, who rescued cats from trees at day and beat up pretty criminals at night – the one who helped old ladies carry their groceries before school, the one who helped his classmates with their English exercises – he couldn’t imagine him doing anything that warranted the word horrible.

“Doing bad things doesn’t make you inherently bad either.” The man explained, staring at Midoriya. He was no longer looking at him, his eyes focusing on his shoes. “Maybe it was an accident– or maybe you were forced to make a bad decision. Maybe you did it out of fear, or out of pain.” He continued. “In hero work, you will find a lot of situations, Midoriya. Not only when fighting villains, but also in small crimes.”

“Parents who committed crimes to feed their children, sick people that possess drugs to ease their pain, abuse victims who murdered their abuser out of fear or in an attempt to escape.” The man stopped, taking a deep breath in. “Would you consider them horrible people?”

He waited for a reply, not feeling surprised when he didn’t receive one. It was a difficult question to answer, more so for a child. Despite this, the pro-hero could see that Midoriya was more alert now, carefully considering his words.

“The law says they are criminals, but ethics i s what dictates what we think is correct or not.” The man concluded. The underlying message was clear. Just like some bad people don’t commit crimes, some good people commit them. Hence, Midoriya could still be a good person – is a good person – regardless of his criminal background, which, if Shouta was correct, was an extensive one.

However, something told him that he wasn’t talking about the things he already knew. It wasn’t about his vigilante activities, it wasn’t the illegal quirk use, it wasn’t hacking into police databases. It wasn’t any of that because Midoriya didn’t believe that those acts were horrible. This was something that went against Izuku’s moral code.

The man cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you did, Midoriya, and I don’t think you’ll tell me. At least not for now.”

“But what I can say is that I don’t believe you’re a bad person.”

And neither should you.

After a while, Midoriya’s tears stopped flowing. He refrained from talking about the other important issue – Keres, and what they were going to do with his alter ego. It was a conversation they would have to have at some point. Despite this, he wanted Izuku to know that he would have to lay low for a while – because of the events that occurred at U.S.J, but more importantly, his health.

Aizawa carefully chose his words. He didn’t want to sound condescending, nor he was punishing the kid. His words could fall on empty ears, as he couldn’t stop the boy from patrolling, but he wanted him to know his wishes. “I think it would be better if you didn’t go out at night, for now, kid.” He watched how Izuku shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not very amused by the idea. “Do us both a favor and don’t go out until you’re completely recovered.”

A few seconds went by before Midoriya nodded, slowly. “Okay.” He whispered, his voice sleepy. It was no surprise that he was exhausted after today. It had been physically and emotionally draining. “I promise.”

The promise made Shouta’s lips turn upwards. He hadn’t even asked for one. Shouta tilted his head, turning to watch the boy. “Do you want to get out of here, kid?”

The ceremony was probably already over by now. The medals would have been offered to the winners by All Might, and Midoriya’s prize would be waiting in the hands of his homeroom teacher. He should have been on that podium, but nothing goes according to plan when it comes to this kid – Aizawa remembered, slightly amused.

Izuku glanced at him, blinking, trying to discern his figure from the rest of the dark basement. “Can we stay for a bit longer?” He almost whispered, his voice smaller than it should have.

The kid was tired, and staying here would only lure him to sleep, which would be counterproductive – yet Shouta found himself tentatively placing a hand on one of his shoulders as he nodded. The boy flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but the man insisted, his firm but gentle hand grounding him to reality. Backing up would be of no use.

A flash of confusion went across Izuku’s face, his still panicked state evaluating if the touch was a threat or not. In a normal situation, he wouldn’t have acted like this, but now, vulnerable and weak, the hand felt like a knife, a dagger that was about to slice his neck open. The reaction hurt the man more than he would have thought. It reminded him of all he didn’t know about Midoriya. The mystery behind his childhood, his quirk, his alter ego. As Shouta got closer to the truth, the hallway just seemed to get longer and longer.

To what extent was Midoriya hiding his pain? It would take a while to know.

The boy’s body finally relaxed, awkwardly leaning in on the touch. Aizawa had to hide a smile in between his scarves, his heart warm.

How could he not wait a little longer?

He would wait a lifetime if that’s what the kid needed.

Chapter Text

The sound of paper sliding through the wooden floor awoke him from his daydreaming state. There, just beside the right leg of his table, laid a neon yellow sticky note. The boy smiled, remembering a distant event in the past, before glancing up to Shinsou. He pursed his lips and twisted his eyebrows in an attempt to communicate non-verbally, futilely, as the other just shrugged and pointed at the piece of paper on the floor.

The secretiveness was due to the fact that they were in math class – taught by Ectoplasm, who was known to not take any bullshit from his students – so writing notes was the easiest way to talk without getting reprimanded. Midoriya stared at the note, wincing at the mere thought of tilting his body to get it. The sports festival had happened a few days prior, and although the experience hadn’t left him any lasting damage, burns were the thing that his now working quirk couldn’t quite fix because there was no blood involved. He remembered writing this in his diary at some point, so he’d have to check later. The point was that his body, despite not being able to feel any pain, felt awfully rigid and stiff.

Izuku shut his eyelids tightly before robotically bending his body, cringing at the sound of the paper being lifted off the ground. Thankfully, the pro-hero was too immersed in his lecture about limits, so there wasn’t any trouble, at least not then. The boy opened the note, which was sealed with a cat sticker – that almost made him laugh – and read it:

Dear Midoriya,

Will you kindly lend me a pencil?

Yours truly, Shinsou Hitoshi.

PS: When will you ever tell me what happened after the sports festival? Don’t ignore this.

The green-head placed a hand on top of his lips to stop himself from snickering, shaking his head as he read the contrast between the posh start and the straight-forward end. He turned the paper over, pasting the cat sticker on one of his notebooks, and he wrote, in the same manner, a letter back.

Dear Shinsou,

I will promptly offer you a pencil, but you shall return it before the end of the class. You won’t be making use of any writing materials regardless, as tea time is our next scheduled event.

Cordially, Midoriya Izuku.

PS: My ego is fragile. Maybe I’ll tell you later. Do you wanna eat lunch outside?

Before sliding back the note to his friend he attached the pencil with some decorative tape to it – which was certainly unnecessary, but funny in Midoriya’s opinion. He watched as Hitoshi read his message, huffed, and started writing a letter back. In a matter of seconds, Izuku had another paper on his hands, this time of a neon pink color. No cat sticker.

Dear Midoriya,

I would be honored to have lunch with your highness on school grounds. Your pencil will be returned in immaculate condition.

Fond regards, Shinsou Hitoshi.

PS: I don’t give a shit about your ego, I’m here for the drama. Also, give me back my cat sticker you thief.

The correspondence continued until they were both called out by Ectoplasm, who confiscated the notes and all of the cat stickers, which were the main cause of the conflict. Midoriya spent the rest of the class ignoring Shinsou’s murderous glares and skimming through the mathematics book that the teacher had given him at the beginning of the class. This was Nedzu’s doing, apparently: since he wasn’t going to cooperate regarding the advanced coursework route, they would just give him a shit ton of work to do – aside from the weekly lessons with him. Needless to say, it was working as planned. He had an excuse to not pay attention in class, but it was also annoying to have a number of math exercises that could compare to the size of the textbook – which was for the entire year. Izuku wondered if they really expected him to do that amount before the trimester ended, and if they did, they were severely overestimating his capabilities.

He reluctantly started solving the equations of the first page when the sound of liberty rang off: it was the end of the class. He was almost tasting that chocolate bar that sat on the bottom of his backpack when he saw a small figure in the doorframe of the class.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning, students. Ectoplasm.” Nedzu cheerfully said. “May I have a word with Midoriya and Shinsou?”

He almost jumped out of his seat when his and Hitoshi’s surnames were called. They instinctively looked at each other as the rest of the class stared at them, possibly wondering what on earth had they done to deserve this.

The pro-hero blinked before nodding, also startled by the abrupt entrance. “It’s already lunchtime anyway. You aren’t interrupting.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The principal exclaimed as if he hadn’t prepared the time of the intervention beforehand. Suddenly, the notes they had been sending in class seemed to gain even more comedic value, as the principal talked as if medieval times were still a thing. “Follow me then, we’ll go to my office.” He said as he looked at the boys sitting at the end of the classroom. The mouse-bear then turned around and started walking away, leaving two very confused students behind.

Izuku sighed as he got up from his seat, pitifully looking at his snack. He could feel a pool of anxiety rapidly forming in his stomach, but he had dealt with the principal too many times to feel uncomfortable. Shinsou, on the other hand, looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Well,” the shorter one started playfully, a smile on his face. “I guess we’ll have real tea time.”

They followed the principal with light steps, only breathing when they were finally sitting down on those big sofas that Izuku knew well. A cup of tea was instantly offered to them, as usual – although Hitoshi wasn’t used to this, and he was, disconcerted, to say the least. The shorter boy pressed his lips together in an attempt to hide the amusement from his face, something he had already done a few times today. He didn’t pity Shinsou, but it was funny to see someone go through the same experience he had a few weeks back.

The office was just as he remembered: elegant, a scent of tea covering the area and a chess set on the corner, right where they played the last game. Without Nedzu, he probably wouldn’t have figured out how to work around the sports festival's rules, but he didn’t know if that had been good or bad. His feelings about the event were complicated. On one hand, he demonstrated that you can achieve a good result without necessarily using your quirk. On the other hand, he had chickened out when it came to fighting Katsuki. He didn’t blame himself – he knew this would happen, after all – but he regretted not trying. It was as if his brain clouded itself when it came to his childhood friend, and he hated having that weakness. He hated knowing that someone had that kind of power over him.

Another person more, he counted. There were fortunately only two on the list.

“Earl Grey or Assam, Midoriya?” The principal asked, making the boy stare at him before receiving a rehearsed smile.

He was referring to tea types. Not that he could really tell the difference. “Earl Grey, please.”

“Ah, a fine choice. I’m expecting you’ll also be drinking the same as him, Shinsou?” Nedzu kindly asked, giving Hitoshi an easy escape.

The other boy nodded furiously as the dark-colored tea was poured into their cups. They both chose their amount of milk and sugar – Hitoshi suspiciously mimicking what Izuku chose – and Nedzu didn’t start talking before taking a sip of his drink.

“You are both probably wondering why you’re here. It’s nothing unfortunate, that I can offer. I wanted to discuss with you your performance at the sports festival.”

Midoriya would have been lying if he said he hadn’t expected this conversation. He had ended up second, and Shinsou, third or fourth, the point count had been re-done after his swoon, so he hadn't had the opportunity to ask yet. It was obvious that they were going to receive some type of congratulatory pat on the back, and perhaps a promotion to the hero course. It had been his main goal from the beginning, but for some reason, it felt bittersweet.

“You both demonstrated capabilities worthy of what we recognize, in this institution, as heroic. I was informed by your homeroom teacher that you wish to transfer to the hero course.”

At this, Izuku couldn’t help but turn his head towards his friend, who looked at him with a faint sparkle in his eyes. The greenhead grinned, giving Hitoshi a quick high-five as Nedzu stopped to drink his tea.

“You are both in luck,” The principal said, entertained by the boys’ enthusiasm. “Due to unfortunate circumstances, there are two vacant spots on class 1-A, which you will recognize to be the class that survived the villain attack at U.S.J,” He remarked, widening his eyes at Midoriya in a knowing manner. “and whose homeroom teacher is Aizawa.”

The boy wasn’t surprised that Nedzu was aware of his secret identity. Eraserhead knew, so it was natural that the smartest creature on earth was also aware of this. It seemed like the principal was thanking him for his participation in the fight, so he returned the gesture, lifting the commissures of his lips.

Hitoshi moved his head sideways, trying to seem oblivious of the little exchange. It wasn’t something that he was supposed to understand.

Nedzu nodded before continuing. “That being said, because of the events that transpired in the festival, I can’t help but wonder if you’re comfortable with this transfer, Midoriya.” The principal looked at the aforementioned with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

That startled the boy. He hadn’t been expecting a safety-check by the principal. “You’re saying it because of what happened with Bakugou?”

“Precisely.” The other one replied.

In hindsight, it wasn’t a tough decision. What happened at the festival, Izuku decided, would not be repeated. It was an anomaly, an error in the code – which would have to be fixed by brute force. Exposing himself to someone that made him freeze would only make him stronger, or at least that was the logic he followed. He couldn’t abandon Shinsou in class 1-A after what happened either. Midoriya knew his friend had difficulties getting to know people, and he was afraid that his quirk and serious nature would push people off, just like he was pushed off at first. Lastly, even though Eraserhead would be their homeroom teacher, he wasn’t as alert as he used to be around him. He wouldn’t dare to admit it, but it was because of the conversation they had. Now that Keres’ affairs had been stabilized, he could focus on other things and be rest assured that Aizawa wouldn’t actively try to incriminate him. The situation would turn rocky once the vigilante finished his little hiatus, but he was willing to take that risk – a risk in exchange for comfort, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that quite yet.

“Yes.” He finally exclaimed, after a few seconds of pondering. “I’m comfortable with the transfer.”

Shinsou stopped drinking his tea to stare at his friend. “Are you sure?” There was worry in his tone. He had been with him when the lunch incident happened – Hitoshi had seen the fear in his friend’s eyes.

Midoriya laughed, trying to ease his friend’s concern. “Yes, don’t worry. Besides, do you think I would survive without you? I’m okay with putting up with that angry pomeranian if we can stay in the same class.”

“Fine.” The purple-head turned his head, trying to hide a smile. He was relieved that he wouldn’t have to transfer to 1-A alone, but he also felt uneasy by Midoriya’s act. Bakugou seemed to be a bigger problem for him than what he tried to convince himself of.

The principal analyzed this before replying. “I respect your decision, Midoriya. However, I want to reassure you that U.A has a strict policy regarding bullying.” He received an alarmed frown from the vigilante. “It won’t happen again.”

Izuku gulped his tea down. “Thank you.”

Nedzu plastered a smile on his small face. “Well, before you leave, I have to discuss with you the details of transferring to the hero course.” He suddenly jumped out of his seat, placing two stacks of documents on the table. “You’ll have to sign these, but of course, you can discuss this with your legal tutors before.”

“Yeah, no. Do you have a pen?” Shinsou asked nonchalantly.

Midoriya nodded. “I’m going to need one too.”

The principal blinked a few times before taking two pens from a cabinet. “I encourage you to discuss this with an adult, but if you’re so adamant about it, I’ll walk you through the document.”

“I’ve done this before, don’t worry,” Hitoshi reassured him. “And I bet Midoriya has too.”

Izuku snorted before turning a page of the document. “There’s no problem if we sign it, right?”

Nedzu shook his head. “No, of course not. It regards your rights and obligations in this course, so your sign is required. Another document will be sent to your addresses, that one does need to be signed by your tutors.”

Both boys finished reading and signing the documents. It was very basic, but they understood the implications of it: you can’t use what we teach you to do evil, you can opt-out anytime, and the likes. It was mainly to cover U.A’s back legally in case something backfired.

“For bureaucratic reasons, the transfer won’t be completed until the end of May, which means you’re not allowed to receive official internship petitions from pro-heroes.” At this, both boys groaned. “Despite this, quite a few of them have shown interest in taking the two of you in. I would like to congratulate you on this.”

“So that's it? We can’t have internships?” The taller student asked, alarmed.   

Nedzu grinned as he poured himself more tea, perturbing Izuku’s calmness. He had said they weren’t allowed to receive official petitions – what about unofficial ones, then? Or if someone made a petition not as their pro-hero persona, but as their regular self?

“He didn’t say that,” Midoriya replied, frowning. What was Nedzu thinking about?

The principal hummed. “You may leave now. I hope I didn’t take too much time from your lunch.” He said, as if he didn’t know break time would be over in five minutes.

Naomasa sighed as he looked at the stack of papers in front of him. It wasn’t his intention to reopen this case – the theories surrounding it were too far fetched, there were no clues, the autopsy revealed nothing useful – yet it was the only anomaly in the suspect’s life.

Using the word suspect pained him.

He touched the folder containing information about Keres, opening it carefully. In moments like this, late at night, coffee in hand, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Keres, regardless of his identity, was a child. A traumatized child who had done nothing but good for society. The detective was too close to this case – and the pro-hero involved as well. They were aware that their assessments weren’t cold and logical, but hesitant and sympathetic.

Unfortunately for him, there were no more excuses available. He quickly dialed a number on his phone. He knew the person would be up, torturing himself over the same topic.

He didn’t have to wait long before the call was picked up. “Tsukauchi,” Aizawa grumbled, saluting him. The sound of wind and cars honking could be heard on the other side of the line.

“Eraserhead.” The man replied. “I suspect I didn’t wake you up?”

“No, I’m on duty right now. Is this about a case?” The pro-hero sounded a bit out of breath.

“It’s about Midoriya’s mother.” The detective muttered, glancing at the documents of the autopsy. “I want to reopen the case.” The investigator stated quickly, as if he was ripping up a bandaid.

The other end of the line went silent. Shouta’s position was difficult, after all – he had closer contact with the suspect, and therefore knew more about him than the detective did. Unknown to Naomasa, Aizawa’s situation was more complex than what it looked like. He had just started to get the kid to trust him, which was good for the investigation and Midoriya’s wellbeing. On one hand, he knew the case was important, but on the other, that kid was his student. It was illogical to break his trust completely by divulging his issues to the police.

The man sighed. “I understand there was no information on his father?”

“Not enough to draw any conclusions. He was a scientist – a good one, at that. Worked for the government for a few years... and then he disappeared. Close friends of the family claim he ran away shortly after Midoriya was diagnosed as quirkless. He was probably...” The detective didn’t finish the sentence, ashamed to say it out loud.

“...embarrassed. I’ve seen it happen before.” Aizawa finished for him, exhaustion coating his words. The vibrations on his side of the line became more violent. “I can’t stay for long, but–”

“Don’t open the case.”

Naomasa was startled by the order. “I believe it’s the best course of action, Eraserhead. It’ll be easier to catch him doing something incriminating if he’s not clear-headed.”

“Tsukauchi,” Aizawa started. “he is not stable. Reopening this case would be the equivalent of opening Pandora’s box.”

“Keres hasn’t been active in weeks. We need something to lure him in.”

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.” The other man muttered. “We’re talking about an individual who can kill you in seconds. If said individual isn’t active now, there might be a reason behind it. Who knows what he could do if the police start digging into his past. Whose side do you want this child on, detective?”

Naomasa was lost for words. Keres’ moral compass was too strong for him to do anything beyond illegal quirk use and physical assault, but under enough stress and pain – who knows what could happen to that child. Even the greatest heroes have committed atrocities.

“Eraserhead, do you know something I don’t?”

“Yes, but those are matters regarding my student, not Keres. What I can tell you is that you better not reopen this case. For our sake.” The man’s tone became defensive. It was obvious that something had happened with their suspect, something grave enough to make Shouta apprehensive over opening this case.

He decided not to press on the matter. “Alright. I won’t do it – for now. You’re lucky I'm the one in charge.” He released a huff of air through his mouth, staring at the files on his desk. He’d have to put them back in place.

“Good. Don’t call me for the rest of the week.” The pro-hero announced curtly.

That took a laugh out of him. “Is there a reason, or are you just tired of listening to me?”

“Both. I have to babysit a couple of problem children. Don’t want them hearing onto the details of the case.”

The investigator nodded despite the other not being able to see him. “Fine. Have a good night, Eraserhead.”

“Good night.”

The static coming out of his phone stopped, leaving him alone in his silent office. He glanced at the documents on his table once again, just as he had done a few moments back. Tsukauchi took the large brown box from his desk and slid his finger against the numbers imprinted on top of it: 81-3378. 

“Not today, I guess.” He said to himself as he walked towards the file room, pushing the crate against one of the shelves. “Not today.”

The detective had the feeling that he would have to open this box again one day.