Chapter Text
Kacchan was amazing.
He knew that, he had always known that, but sometimes Kacchan did things that would remind him all over again of just how amazing he was. They’ve been friends for nearly three years—two and a half!—and sometimes Izuku forgot that the amazing things Kacchan could do were, well, amazing! He had no problem saying his name, he could read before everyone else and when they went to skip rocks no one was better than Kacchan.
On top of being the smartest and bravest person Izuku knew, he was also the coolest. All the kids agreed; when Kacchan did something you wanted to follow because you just knew something cool would happen. He always had something to show off, whether it be his skill with a ball or how high he could count, but nothing, it turned out, was as awesome as his Quirk.
He hadn’t even been four for a whole month yet when he got it. Not a week after Children’s Day, Kacchan came to school oddly quiet, staring down at his hands with a pout. He didn’t answer any of the questions he was asked, didn’t even acknowledge anyone as he watched his hands until finally, around lunchtime, a pop could be heard. Kacchan watched his hands in wonder, and, with a series of pops, set off one tiny explosion after another, once more getting the attention of everyone in the room.
“Wow, Katsuki-chan! That’s some Quirk,” Ryuuji-sensei had said, “you can become quite the hero with that.”
Kacchan’s whole face had lit up, as had Izuku’s, proud on his friend’s behalf. Kacchan had always said he would be a great hero, and while Izuku never doubted him, hearing a teacher say it made it more real. As always, Kacchan’s success corralled those around him, leading them where they wanted to be. Watching the sparks go off in Kacchan’s hands, Izuku couldn’t wait for his own Quirk to materialize.
Izuku had many ideas, having learned all he could about his parents’ Quirks. Both his father’s fire-breathing and his mother’s telekinesis would be great for hero-ing, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility of a mutation or a combination of the two of them, like fire-kinesis or something!
“What kind of Quirk do you think I’ll get?”
Izuku had been dying to ask Kacchan what he thought his Quirk would be for a while now, but it felt silly to ask before he was old enough to get it. Today he was officially four though, meaning he could get his Quirk any time now!
“Doesn’t matter,” Kacchan said, “it won’t be as cool as mine!”
Izuku laughed. It was true—he didn’t think even fire-kinesis would be as cool as Kacchan’s—but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still talk about it. Izuku quickened his pace, closing the distance between them until he was just slightly in front of Kacchan.
“Do you think I’ll breathe fire like my dad? Or maybe I’ll get mom’s! I think dad’s would be cooler! I could just go ‘ rawr!’ and—”
His words were cut off as his foot caught a root and he fell. His knee scraped against the ground, and Izuku felt tears he refused to let fall prick at the back of his eyes. Behind him, Kacchan laughed but was quick to help him stand and brush the dirt off his clothes.
“Watch where you’re going, Deku,” he said. “You don’t know this area good.”
Izuku frowned at the nickname. Kacchan said it meant useless and he didn’t want to be useless. He wanted to be a hero, and heroes couldn’t be useless.
“Heroes don’t trip either,” Kacchan said. He must’ve said that aloud. “Now stop crying, Deku. We’re almost there!”
Not letting go of Izuku’s hand, Kacchan walked further into the brush, dragging Izuku behind him. Rubbing the tears out of his eyes with his free hand, he quickened his pace to no longer be dragged, though he remained half a step behind the other. Izuku had never been this far into the woods—his mom said he wasn’t allowed, and while Izuku felt bad for having lied when she gave him permission to go to the park, he couldn’t help it when Kacchan said he was going to finally share his secret base with him.
He’d been trying to get Kacchan to show him since he started bragging about it a month ago. He had found it while hiking with his father, and had been sneaking off on his own whenever they were allowed alone at the park. He spoke of a hole in the ground, large enough for his dad to walk in comfortably, which led to the underbelly of the large rocks. He brought up the pool they found, stretching out further than the eye could see and how cold it was as if the cave had air conditioning. With how hot this summer’s been, Izuku was looking forward to having a place to cool off.
More than that, he was looking forward to having a place that was just his and Kacchan’s. Kacchan was so cool and awesome that everyone wanted to spend time with him, and while Izuku could easily tell you who his best friend was, he wondered if Kacchan could do the same. Kacchan had to share his time with everyone. Izuku didn’t have anything against that—they were his friends too, even if they could be mean sometimes—but it was nice to feel special , to be reminded that despite the teasing nickname, Izuku was still Kacchan’s best friend.
Kacchan agreeing to share his base with him was his favourite gift, even better than the new All Might figurine his father got him.
“Watch your step, Deku.”
Letting go of his hand, Izuku watched as Kacchan climbed onto the trunk of a fallen tree and jumped off on the other side. Izuku followed shortly after, not landing as easily as Kacchan had and stumbling before regaining his balance.
“It’s just up ahead, just—”
“Fuck!”
The intrusion of the new voice had both Izuku and Kacchan freezing up, Kacchan stepping just slightly to the right to stand in front of Izuku. That was an adult’s voice, an adult who sounded angry. Up ahead, right where Kacchan had said the base was, Izuku could just make out the form of something pacing through the leaves.
“Where the fuck is that kid? We’ve been here for a fucking week already, what happened to ‘regularly visits’?”
“Hyata, be quiet.”
The new voice that cut in was smoother, quieter than the first, and the form he had seen moving stopped abruptly. He had no way of knowing whether it was true, but Izuku felt eyes on him and he imagined the man looking his way. Kacchan’s shoulders tensed up, likely feeling the same.
“He here?” The anger from the first voice seemed to melt away, replaced with palpable excitement.
Izuku’s grip on Kacchan’s shoulder tightened, but it seemed to be the only thing he could move. He felt them watching him and some part of him just knew they needed to get away, but despite his mental protests, his feet refused to move.
“Eleven o’clock.”
“Gotcha.”
A sickening squelch was heard and Izuku watched in horror as some thing with rows of teeth launched towards them. Kacchan moved first, pulling Izuku to the ground with him just in time to avoid whatever shot their way. The thing latched itself onto the fallen trunk behind them with its monstrous mouth, crushing it with a snap of its jaws.
“Oops, I missed.”
The voice recaptured Izuku’s attention as the loud man emerged from behind the leaves. He was tall, taller than his dad, and dressed in all black. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses, but most striking was his elongated left arm, which appeared to be the very thing that attacked them.
“We need him alive, Hyata.”
“Fuck off, Kon. I know what I’m doing.” Unhinging itself from the trunk, his arm snapped back like an elastic, returning so quickly the man’s whole body jolted. His eyes swept over the area before staring directly at him, a wicked smile crossing his lips. “We need boom boy here, but did they mention anything about the other kid?”
“Nothing.” The quieter man didn’t show himself, but Izuku heard what sounded like him getting up. “Do what you want.”
Hyata’s smile widened. “I’m going to have fun with this,” he said as his hands morphed into those monstrous mouths. “Teach them to keep me waiting for a week.”
Still, on the ground, they were unable to dodge the next attack, and the teeth dug into Izuku’s shoulder as he tried to stand. An intense pain coursed through his body as the mouth bit down, but a loud boom by his ear accompanied by a flash of heat and he was released. The man called Hyata cursed, but Kacchan didn’t stay to watch, grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along as they ran off.
Kacchan pulled them into a full out sprint, physically dragging Izuku behind him a few short steps after he lost his footing. The hand around his wrist was so tight, Izuku could barely feel his fingers. Behind them, the man followed at a leisurely pace, as though he was unconcerned that they would manage to get away.
They ran until the loud man was out of sight and then ran a bit more before they finally stopped to catch their breaths. It was the most running Izuku’s ever done, even more so than their racing games.
“Deku,” Kacchan said, having caught his breath first, “you need to leave.”
“What? But, Kacchan—”
“We need a hero,” Kacchan said, and yes, Izuku could agree with that, but he didn't see why that meant they had to separate. “I'll distract them!”
“Kacchan!” Izuku called after him as Kacchan ran off, hesitating for a minute before chasing after him.
It was just like their games of tag: Kacchan was faster and he only got further and further away no matter how hard Izuku tried to catch up. Long out of sight, he followed after the noise of explosions and name-calling as he cried Kacchan’s name. He never answered, and Izuku’s lungs began to cry, but Izuku refused to stop. He ran despite the strain in his legs, and when the explosions stopped, he ran faster. Without the explosions to mark the way, Izuku was blind but he picked a direction and ran, screaming for Kacchan all the while. He kept going even as the sun set and he lost his way, continued when his legs gave out by dragging himself through the mud.
It was long after the sun had set when he was found by heroes sent by his and Kacchan’s parents. Though the wound on his shoulder had stopped bleeding, he was covered in blood and dirt and scrapes. His mom cried when she saw him and she cradled him in her arms as they brought him to the hospital, but he was the only one they found.
After three days of searching, Kacchan was declared missing and never heard from again.
The early January air carried a chill that could be felt down to the bones. It was one of the coldest days in recent memory and activity on both sides of the law was quiet; no one wanted to brave the cold if they needn't have to. More concerned with staying warm, defences were down, and people were happier to complain than look over their shoulders. Not eight hours ago, Shouta was amongst them.
Tsuragamae had other plans. The police officer had knocked on his door, case file in hand, much to Shouta’s bewilderment, which only grew upon reading it. Shouta hadn’t made much of a name for himself yet, not that he wanted to, but even as an underground hero, he was relatively unknown, mostly getting his assignments from his UA connections or those he had worked with previously. Tsuragamae fell under neither of those categories.
“Tsuragamae Kenji,” he introduced himself, though he needn’t. The officer was known amongst the heroes as most likely to succeed the current chief of police when he retired. “I have need of some stealth specialists and Edgeshot told me you were good for it.”
The man had a verbal tic, seeming to finish all his sentences with a soft bark, but the tic wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep him from hearing that last bit. Edgeshot had recommended him? He had only worked with the quickly rising hero once before and hadn’t thought he had left much of an impression having worked mostly behind the scenes; though, maybe, that was a good impression in itself.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the increased amount of explosives being used to terrorize the public this last year,” Tsuragamae said as Shouta read over the case. “We believe to have finally found the source; however, it’s not the only thing we found.”
“The missing children.” The last couple of years had seen an increase in kidnappings, and police had reason to believe it was part of a child smuggling ring. Looked like now they had proof.
“Correct, and the rescue of the children comes first obviously. However, I am reluctant to let them get away with their source of explosives if they decide to cut their losses. That’s where the stealth comes in: prior to the operation, you, Shadowstone and Edgeshot will sneak in to uncover the source if possible. I can’t give you much time, only five minutes. Will you do it?”
Of course, Shouta hadn’t refused, and that’s how he found himself here, holding his breath as he waited for the guards to pass. He waited until he heard them turn the corner and then waited a bit longer before he let himself drop down from the ceiling, cushioning his fall so as to not make a sound. Taking a quick scan of the warehouse, he stuck to the shadows as he headed further into the building.
“Are you in, Eraserhead?” Tsuragamae’s voice whispered into his ear. The comm was unlikely to be heard even if he were to shout, but Shouta couldn't blame him for wanting to be as quiet as possible.
This was likely Tsuragamae’s biggest assignment yet, as it was Shouta’s. Eight pro-heroes had been called upon, and Shouta was still surprised to find that he was amongst their numbers. Were their source to be believed, this group was responsible for the sudden increase in explosives terrorizing the public.
Not to mention, Tsuragamae’s investigation led them to believe they were responsible for the disappearance of at least fifteen of the children missing in the last four years. If all went according to plan, the operation would be the headlines of all major newspapers. If they failed, they would likely still make headlines, though for much more dismal news.
“I am,” he said, just as quiet. Were his mic located anywhere but the inside of his mouth, he might’ve worried he wasn't heard.
“Alright, the operation starts now,” Tsuragamae said. “Good luck.”
Muffling his steps, he picked up the pace as he ran, keeping an eye out for guards and anything of interest. With Edgeshot taking the west end, the east end was divided up between him and Shadowstone. They had five minutes to locate the source of explosives and the mastermind before those on standby raided the building and all stealth was thrown out the window. Were they to fail, chances were both would be lost, but they couldn't afford to put the rescue off much further: the lives of the children undoubtedly came first.
Luckily, there were four locations they had already marked as likely candidates. Picturing the layout of the building in his mind’s eye, Shouta headed towards the one closest to him.
The meandering hallways gave the building a labyrinthine feel, but Shouta had spent hours memorizing every line. The southeastern wing reminded him of a dormitory, with the endless rooms one right next to the other. The doors were closed, and he had no time to check each and every room, so he continued on without confirming his suspicions. The guard was weak here, the patrols nonexistent. It made sneaking around easier, but it didn't bode well for what he would find at the end.
Finally, he arrived at his destination, a locked door being the only thing standing between him and his goal. Keeping his ears open for any sound of an approach, Shouta set to pick it open, satisfied to discover it was quite complex. Whatever they had behind the door was likely of some value, though why they left the halls empty if that were the case was a mystery.
“Time’s up,” Tsuragamae's voice rang in his ear just as he finished picking the lock, though he needn't bother. The loud explosion from the other side of the building was telling enough.
Rather than heading over to help, Shouta stepped into the room, certain he would be of more use here.
The room he entered was large and spacious, with no source of light other than what came from the hall. It smelled sweet, like burnt caramel. It was also filled floor to ceiling with crates of explosives.
“Tsuragamae, I found the—”
A noise. He cut off his report and turned towards the source. He couldn't see anyone, but he could hear them now that he strained his ears: breathing, erratic and laboured. Someone was in the room with him.
Securing his goggles over his eyes, he loosened his capture weapon and waited. The other occupant was just as still and, for a brief moment, Shouta relaxed his stance.
Boom.
A light and a body hurtled towards him. Cursing, Shouta dodged out of the way, all while sending his capture weapon to wrap around the body-turned-projectile and drag it to the floor.
It was over in an instant. As it should have been, for as his opponent struggled against the bounds on his cloth, only serving to contort it more tightly around him, he was greeted with the sight of a boy.
Not possibly older than five, the boy was of small stature and nearly feral as he tried everything to escape. As his hands alighted with explosions one after another, Shouta activated his Quirk and, as gently as he could, subdued the boy.
“Eraserhead, are you there?” Tsugaramae’s voice parroted in his ear. He must've been repeating himself since he cut himself off, but Shouta was only just registering it now.
“Yes,” he said.
“What happened?”
“I think I just found the source of the explosives,” he said, as he stared into the brightest pair of green eyes he had ever seen.