Chapter Text
[img.jpeg: A blurry photo of a small crowd of reporters surrounding several heroes. Endeavor's flames are visible, though all the faces are further blurred for privacy. The caption beneath it reads 'I would pay someone to deck him for me'.]
Outside the first image, the rest of the account's pictures are clear enough to see the various pro heroes smiling at the camera. Each are labeled with the heroes' names and an emoji, ranging from smiley faces to hands to various animals. None of the heroes seem to repeat and there aren't any other images of Endeavor in any state. The last photo before the questionable one is of the recently debuted Kamui Woods giving the photographer an awkward-looking victory sign.
It's fairly obvious the account has been running for years, given the sheer number of pictures on it, and it's a shame to have a civilian's fan collection taken down with no way to recover it.
Yori sighs, running a hand through his hair and scraping it down against the scruff on his jaw. When he first joined the agency, grateful to his uncle and more than a little starstruck to be working for a pro hero, he hadn't expected anything more than coffee runs and maybe making sure all the sidekicks were accounted for. And now, after three years of outlasting all the other interns, he's expected to shut down any sort of criticism he finds scrolling through the various social media accounts the agency keeps for appearances.
It also doesn't help that the post has been steadily rising in popularity. He'll just report the picture instead of the account and leave it at that. Best to get rid of it before his boss sees and throws a fit.
Yori doesn't think his desk can withstand another one so soon.
---
Izuku scowls at his phone before tossing it aside.
Okay, so he probably shouldn't have posted that last photo but, in his defense, Endeavor had almost skinned him an hour before the impromptu press conference. And, sure, it's getting a little bit of attention from his followers. But that's no reason to get it taken down and have his account suspended for a week!
It's enough to put a damper on his already trashed mood, huddled up under his blankets and not really listening to the sound of rain hitting the roof and his mother humming in the kitchen. He's freezing despite being curled around a hot water bottle and under several layers, nor does the ache in his ribs help him not hate himself when he's trying to cough out a lung or two.
The week just seems to get worse the longer it goes on.
"Izuku, sweetheart, I'm heading out in a minute." Inko calls, oblivious to the misery he's stewing in, her keys jingling merrily and making his head throb. She peeks into his room, a worried look in her eyes as she sets a glass of water beside the bottle of pain medication on his nightstand. "There's miso on the stove and rice in the fridge. Try to eat something today, okay?"
"I will." His voice is hoarse when he answers as loud as he dares, throat raw and his breathing too loud in his ears. She runs a hand through his sweaty hair for a moment, giving him a soft smile.
"I'll be back before you know it." Inko says before bustling out to get to work. The front door closes after a few moments and Izuku's alone with his bad decisions once more. Like usual.
Maybe he shouldn't have taken the other shortcut home.
Then again, that kid would've had a hell of a time getting away from the villain if he hadn't and he can't bring himself to feel bad about helping someone out. Still, he doesn't really appreciate being tossed in the river afterward or the mad scramble to avoid being roasted alive.
Slowly, Izuku pushes himself up on shaking arms, swallowing down the itch in his throat and trying his best to not spill the water on his pillow. It's blissfully cool going down and he's grateful there's no nausea this time, else his poor bed would have so much more gross stuff on it. He can't reach the nightstand again, however, and leaves the glass on the floor where it won't get knocked over.
Izuku really hopes this passes before he has to go back to school on monday. He probably isn't going to be that lucky.
Blindly groping for his phone, it takes more tries than he'll ever admit to get his password right, squinting against the unexpected light until he could turn the brightness down. There isn't anything new since the last time he checked on his regular news sites, nor is there anything in the tags he normally frequented. Maybe one of his friends has messaged him?
Oh, someone mentioned him in one of his servers - no, wait, they're talking to everyone.
He has to admit, it's kind of weird seeing his own post being regurgitated as a screenshot. But Izuku scrolls through the messages under it only half paying attention, nearly dropping his phone after a coughing fit that leaves him clutching the hot water bottle against his throat and swallowing hard.
Literally 10.000 Wasps Yesterday at 11:37 PM
dyou guys think someones stupid enough to actually do it tho???
Goosespeed Young Padawan Yesterday at 11:37 PM
who knows, they shut down that account pretty fast because of it.
that picture looks kind of familiar, though. wasn't it in the news a couple days ago?
Fourth Kind Did Nothing Wrong Yesterday at 11:42 PM
I think so, yeah. Maybe they were in the crowd?
At least they were considerate enough to protect people's identities.
Unlike some people I could name.
.xXx.KingEdgeLord.xXx. Today at 1:12 AM
you get excited about seeing a real live vigilante one time, i swear
Pull The Trigger Snipe Today at 4:49 AM
bro your never gonna live tht down
anyway did u see the rest of the account? dude loves heros
gotta wonder what endeavor did to piss them off
Well, at least they put it in the right channel this time. Izuku would laugh if he didn't already know it'd hurt.
He doesn't bother responding, tapping over to the only other server he's managed to shove down his anxiety about joining, looking through the much more sedate conversations and hero-spotting pictures with a quiet sigh. Someone has added a photo to the "teaching heroes about memes" channel, surprisingly, but considering it's Present Mic on what looks like U.A.'s campus, he's inclined to believe the hero is humoring the girl dabbing with him.
Izuku coughs again, typing out a one-handed message in the general chat after a few minutes of deliberation. It doesn't take long for someone to respond either, which eases a little bit of the ever-present hesitation about human interaction.
Smile! You're On Camera Today at 9:13 AM
Guess who got sick and can't go out today
There's supposed to be a meet and greet in Arisugawa park too
Cold In Here Today at 9:14 AM
Please recover swiftly.
Are you looking for any specific photographs from the event?
Smile! You're On Camera Today at 9:17 AM
Only the usual ones, doubt he's going to be there
Thanks though
Turning off his phone with a groan, Izuku lets it drop back onto the bed and buries his face in his arms. His eyes hurt less now that they're closed but his head's still spnning and he feels grosser than he did last night. He has to get up and shower eventually, make sure the cut on his ribs isn't going to get infected, and try to choke down something to eat before his mom gets home.
But he can just do all that later, after a nap. It's not like he can stop anyone in his current state and he really, really needs to catch up on his sleep anyway.
---
[img.gif: Pro Hero Death Arms knocks aside a large piece of debris before subduing an indistinct villain. The angle is low and there are clearly police lights in the background that throw most of the clip into shadow.]
Monday is definitely worse than the previous day.
Izuku feels marginally better, true, but his voice is gone and Inko's already called the school to let them know he won't be attending so he's stuck in his room picking apart .gifs to try and stave off the boredom. It's a losing battle, going over the same five seconds of Death Arms' latest fight until he starts to see things in the indistinct pixels behind the hero.
He rubs his eyes, ignoring the harsh prickle of buildup, and pushes the laptop away.
There still hasn't been much in the way of local hero news and he's already read all the new topics on his favorite forums. Logically, Izuku knows he should sleep but that doesn't stop him from scrolling through his HeroTube feed on his phone and picking a random one for background noise. It's clickbait, like most of the videos on the site, but the narrator's voice is something mechanical and doesn't make him want to throw something at it like one of the more popular 'Tubers.
That and the explanation behind Backdraft's quirk is so wrong it's almost laughable.
Sighing, he pulls the laptop back, clicking out of the CCTV footage he'd had playing in the background and going back to trawling the web for something to do. One of the odder message boards has a new theory on whether or not Edgeshot is really an alien sent to keep the rest of the pro heroes in line with their hidden overlord's ideals that's getting pretty heated, from what he can tell. But it comes with all sorts of interesting video clips and stills that make his fingers itch for a pencil.
Izuku gets more than a little engrossed in it, reaching for his notebook after barely glancing at the first paragraph. He doesn't really believe it - if people with quirks suited for it couldn't find evidence of alien life, then why should be believe some internet forum over science? But the hero's competence with his quirk is fascinating and the videos barely capture what he's doing half the time.
It's a rabbit hole of information about the No. 5 hero and by the time he blinks out of it, there's a flashing alert in the bottom right corner of his screen and it's almost time for mom to get home.
Clicking the news link, Izuku readies a new page of his notebook while the stream buffers.
The location is more run-down than usual for a film crew, almost within touching distance of one of his own patrol routes, and he's honestly surprised to see Endeavor there. Especially considering the hero's rumored to live on the clear other side of Musutafu. He leans closer to the screen, squinting.
Yeah, that's the bakery that makes handmade mochi in weird flavors. Izuku really hopes he doesn't torch the place.
The camera hops a few times, covering different angles until the viewers can see who Endeavor's fighting. No one big, it looks like, since he doesn't recognize the costume or hear a name being bandied around by the reporters. Just some guy with either a noncombat quirk or someone who didn't want to use it.
Which doesn't make sense?
It looks like he's panicking, swinging wildly and probably tearing the stitching on his limbs if they extend past his face. Which meant he hadn't expected to fight someone during whatever crime he's in the process of committing or that he hadn't expected to fight Endeavor. But he also isn't getting hit, barely sliding out of the hero's range in time and that is clearly frustrating him if the state of his flames are anything to go by.
Izuku briefly toys with the villain having some sort of enhancement or weird emitter quirk, unless the scarring is part of a mutation or something similar, before discarding the theory. He has a good sense of the space around him and distance between the fighters, ducking under the hero's fists and using the buildings to redirect himself away from the jets of fire.
Until, of course, Endeavor gets a lucky shot and fries the guy's leg, leaving behind flaming fabric and a half-melted shoe while only just managing to not set more than the bakery's cheery little awning alight.
He almost turns off the feed then, bored of watching Endeavor monologue while pulling out handcuffs and sort of pitying the villain for being caught like that. Burns hurt, he knows all too well. Izuku turns back to his phone, queuing up another video by the same channel, when the roar of a crowd brings his gaze back up to the other screen.
Endeavor looks pissed, hand clamped tight on the villain's shoulder and handing him off to police outside the camera's view with very little of his usual fanfare. Mindlessly taking a screenshot, Izuku frowns. The guy's grinning like he just won the lottery or something. And he's pretty sure the hero's scowl is marred with what looks like blood.
Huh.
Clearly he missed something.
He leans back, the end of his pencil tapping against his mouth as reporters start to swarm around the hero for questions now that the situation's dealt with. Did he headbutt Endeavor or something? Scrubbing the footage back enough, his eyes brighten, a self-satisfied smile curling to life on his lips.
No, the villain swung after he'd been put in cuffs, catching the hero off-guard and nearly knocking out a tooth or two if he's guessing the amount of force correctly. He absently pastes the shot into paint, taking a moment to study the villain's face. It's distinctive enough that life's going to be difficult after he gets out of jail, the scarring held onto his skin with what seems to be staples instead of stitching.
Quirk related? Possibly, though more likely to be backlash against using it than markings. They remind him of old burn scars, if burn scars could even be that color. Izuku really doesn't want to risk his stomach looking it up, either.
But he supposes he owes the guy for his good deed. After all, he did say he'd pay whoever punched Endeavor. Bail would work for that part, right? Right.
Shutting down the feed and stretching his arms over his head, Izuku doesn't bother hiding the grin on his face as he starts extrapolating the possible places he can be held at, adding mental points for closeness and friendly cops and immediately crossing out the ones where the hero's PR team has run into problems before.
Time to get to work.