Chapter Text
Adults failed Izuku from the beginning. He’d learned to endure more than any children should at his age. His mother would scream, she would yell, sometimes she grabbed him but she didn’t hit him. Izuku knew it was wrong but it wasn’t as bad as other people had it. His mother would keep him inside, he was too weak to play with his friends and take a walk.
He cleaned the entire house and began to fear car rides. If he messed up she would explode. His mother manipulated him. “It’s your fault that I cut my hand cutting up the carrots, I wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t insist on having dinner.”
It was funny, Izuku thought that when she screamed that she would kill him, he wasn’t as scared or as desperate as when she said she’d kill herself. Because it was always his fault.
His father, Izuku always favored his father, in the beginning he just loved him because daddy didn’t yell at him like mommy did, daddy didn’t hurt him or make him cry. But he would make Izuku work without paying him, not caring if he cried or got hurt. “Stop crying. Now.”
But worst of all, Izuku watched as a small child, watched as his mother threw knives at daddy, screaming about divorce, slapping him, screaming at daddy. Izuku watched as he grew up, to the age of three and he watched as his mother’s sharp words and threats, her manipulation turned to him, a child. And he watched as his father did nothing, nothing at all to stop it.
And it hurt when daddy said it was his fault, that he shouldn’t have provoked her. Daddy didn’t scream, but daddy did other things, Izuku wanted to buy a doll or go to an amusement park, but even though daddy went to work every day from 7 am to 9 pm, there was no money, daddy refused to pay. Izuku often wondered where it all went if daddy was working that much and izuku wasn’t allowed to buy anything.
Adults failed him again when Izuku learned the phone number of CPS, he called and told them how his mommy yelled at him and daddy told him it was his fault. He saw how they didn’t believe him, and called his mother to “confirm” his claims, how they dropped the case and left Izuku to deal with the repercussions of the call.
Adults failed yet Izuku again when Kacchan blew him up with his quirk, watched, always watched as they turned their head or ruffled Kacchan's hair, watched as when he told they shifted the blame onto izuku. Izuku watched as they praised kacchan’s strong quirk and he basked under the attention. Izuku watched as they told him that a quirkless kid, no matter how smart, would never get into UA.
And Izuku watched, kept watching with those big green eyes as All Might declared to the cameras that he was there, now that he was there, they were safe, and he would save everyone. Izuku watched the window, waiting for the day All Might would save him.
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Now Izuku watched, his eyes watering as the sludge villain tried to take over his body. Nobody was coming. He took his years of watching, analysing villains, and heroes, along with his natural common smarts to take down the villain and stuff him into his thermos which once held his lunch.
He sat and watched as All Might popped out of the sewer ten minutes later, declaring that he was there, and not to fear. Izuku watched as All Might smiled as if nothing was wrong, as if Izuku wouldn’t be dead by the time he got there if he didn’t act as quickly as he had. Izuku saw the confusion in All Might’s eyes at the lack of reaction Izuku had to his appearance.
Izuku watched All Might’s eyes harden as he crushed Izuku’s dreams of being a hero without a second thought. Izuku watched as All Might readied himself to jump away with the villain Izuku caught to claim he had apprehended the villain himself.
And Izuku snapped.
“I can take that villain to the police station.” Izuku spat out at the number one hero.
“Young man I cannot let myself burden you with a villain like th-” All might started to declare
“If you go now then you’ll deflate mid air and the public will realise how much of a weakling their precious number one hero is.” Izuku snapped
“Young man I don’t underst-” Izuku watched the alert in All Might’s eyes with relish.
“It’s not that hard to tell honestly, why would the number one hero start to weaken so quickly? If he’s the number one hero, why are his shifts so short? Face it All Might your time is up, but be my guest, take it to the station in your gaunt civilian form.” Izuku rambled angrily.
“How do you know this? Who told y-” All Might questioned in a threatening tone.
Izuku scoffed at how amusing and ironic the situation was.
“What? Don’t believe a quirkless kid could find out your number one secret? Think again Toshinori, I’m not as dumb as I look.” Izuku said.
“I just-” All might began again.
“You know what, go turn that villain into the police station, maybe you’ll find a proper successor on the way. Or should i say, a proper vessel.” Izuku mused, lazily waving a goodbye as he walked back to his house.
Izuku wasn’t surprised when All Might followed him.
“That is hi-” All Might started.
“Highly confidential information young man.” Izuku interrupted in a mocking voice
“Oh, but now that I’ve found out you’re not a complete dumbass would you please be my successor.” The green haired boy continued in his parody of All Might’s voice.
“How-” Izuku cut off the smiling man again, wanting to continue his streak of interrupting the number one hero.
“Shouldn’t you be saving someone, All Might?” Izuku sneered as he said the hero’s name, “I hope we never meet again.” He finished walking away from the confused man.
Izuku wasn’t surprised when All Might didn’t follow him.
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Toshinori frowned as he watched the boy walk away. What was he so angry for? He’d only told him the truth. Furthermore, he was sure that the sludge victim had a quirk. Mind reading maybe? Boosted intelligence? Analysing?
But one thing was for sure, that boy was not normal.
The number one hero shrugged, the boy knew his secret, but who would listen? Who would believe him? It was his word against All Might’s.
He flipped the thermos in his hands and walked to the police station, completely disregarding and forgetting the boy he’d just spoken to.
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In all honesty, Izuku really didn’t want to go home, he wished he hadn’t met All Might so he could at least go around town without getting his dreams brutally crushed.
Last night was a bad night, Mommy had sent a threatening text to his father, it said. “I'm going to kill myself.” Now to the normal person it seemed like a cry for help, a sad plea or a serious text that would result in a suicide. Izuku knew better, it wouldn’t result in a tragic suicide of a “loved mother and wife” only a day of waiting on his mother and her yelling at him for not doing anything right.
Izuku always hated it when his mother got hurt. And again, an average person would think that it was sweet he worried about her handling kitchen knives, “What a good son.” They would proclaim.
But no, Izuku hated it because she would get irrationally angry that she had cut herself, and for the next week at minimum would have Izuku and his father waiting on her. The worst part was, she wouldn’t show them the cut, and even if it was on her finger, she would simply recline in a chair and demand water as if her legs had been cut off rather than a knick on her hand.
He knows it sounds bad but when his mother cried or hurt herself, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it or empathise with her. It always seemed so fake and she was always so high maintenance afterwards.
He fiddled with a lock of his green hair, staring at the cracks in the cement on his walk back to his house, deep in thought, not bothering to look where he was going.
God, I don’t want to be at the house, she’s gonna be so fucking annoying and I bet she’ll yell at me. Maybe if I stay in my room- no then she’ll call me a lazy shit and make me clean the house. I don’t really want to go anywhere else, I’m feeling bad and I don’t think I could deal with her without retaliating and god knows that only makes it wor-
Izuku’s thoughts stopped as his head rammed into something, he looked up, his face paling, not something, someone.
“Watch where you’re going Shitty Deku.” Kacchan sneered at him, palm raised threateningly.
Izuku winced and avoided eye contact with the taller, more violent boy.
“I-I’m sorry Kacchan.” Izuku stuttered, he’d stopped stuttering years ago but it always started back up when he was around Kacchan.
“Shut up quirkless nerd.” Kacchan pushed him to the ground, Izuku didn’t even wince as his elbow scraped the rough concrete. Kacchan ripped off Izuku’s backpack and pulled out his notebook.
“What the fuck is this? You still want to be a hero? When will you just fucking give up?” Kacchan berated.
“I-I-I…” Izuku stammered, unsure of his view of heroes now. HIs eyes watered, shit, not now.
“Awww, are you gonna cry?” Kacchan mocked.
“Listen Deku,” He spat the name out hatefully, “If you really want to be a hero that badly, why don’t you take a swan dive off the roof and hope you’re born with a quirk next life?” The red eyed boy held the notebook in his hands and threw it into a puddle on the street.
“Kacchan!” The ten year old cried out in horror.
“Don’t call me that dumbass name.” The other spat out, walking away with his hands in his pockets, back hunched, and a glare on his face.
Izuku simply sat in the middle of the sidewalk feeling completely alone. A heavy feeling settled deep inside of him as he cried, knees to his chest. It’s hard to describe what it feels like, crying in complete pain, crying for your life.
Gut wrenching sobs left his body as he convulsed slightly in pain, his lungs hurt. He couldn’t breathe, tears were streaming down his face as sharp aches stabbed his chest. Izuku doesn’t know how long he cried for, only that the sun was shining west and the air was colder than when he met Kacchan. He wiped the tears off from under his chin and tilted his head back to stop the new ones trying to force themselves from his eyes. His sleeve grew dark and wet as he wiped his cheeks with the rough fabric, not caring if it grew red.
Izuku picked his throbbing body off the cement, indents of the ground bright pink on his arm. He shook the small pieces of loose concrete off of his body and walked over to his wrinkled, damp notebook. He’d have to rewrite it later tonight.
The preteen mopped the snot that was trickling out of his nose with the hem of his shirt and restarted his walk to his house. However, when he reached the door he hesitated, the sun was beginning to set and that meant he’d been crying for nearly four hours now.
That wasn’t why he hesitated though. No, Izuku knew his face wouldn’t be puffy or red, he knew his eyes wouldn’t be bloodshot or watery, his nose wouldn’t sniffle and even if he didn’t smile to try and cover up evidence of his earlier breakdown, nobody would be able to tell.
His mother made sure of that.
Izuku walked away from the door and to the polluted beach. He was bringing up bad memories and that would only leave him more raw and sensitive to whatever happened when he entered his house.
The boy recalled the times she would scream at him and cry and yell and shake in rage as she drove the car. Izuku remembered how she would make him cry and beg her to stop, how she would grab his arm and make him bleed, only to later deny that and say it was simply a hangnail. His face remained impassive as he thought about the multiple times she would scream and scream and threaten him in the car driving top speed, even pulling over to push him out of the car without a phone or any means of communication at times.
The many memories of her training him pushed their way through. They all started the same. The child would say the wrong thing and as his father said, she would “blow up” because his father refused to admit it wasn’t Izuku’s fault. And then his mother would make sure Izuku was crying for a minimum of fifteen minutes before parking in front of a grocery store, her own tears suddenly gone (this was when Izuku began to doubt the reality of her suffering), and a still sniffling and upset Izuku in tow, her cold hand wrapped around his wrist as she pulled him into the store.
It was the worst, he’d be forced to stop crying as soon as the car door clicked open, he’d wipe his face with his sleeve before she pulled him in, and after that he was on his own. He couldn’t look like he was crying, so he trained like that, his face’s puffiness going down in record time. He suspects that it was a survival instinct in his body. After five years of this, nobody could tell he had cried, no matter how violent, or how long. Nobody ever noticed. The consequence of them noticing was worse than bottling up his anger and sadness. The pure dread that sliced through him as he grew paranoid of whispers. What if they had noticed?
Izuku shook his head, they wouldn’t notice. They never did. The greenette looked up at the sky, which had grown to become a light purple, the first stars twinkling brightly at him. Not a cloud in the sky. The boy knew that weather wouldn’t always match how horrid his day was. If it did then he was sure it would most always be raining.
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Izuku slowly walked upstairs, groggy from working to complete his mother’s demands to a satisfactory degree (spoiler, he didn’t), enduring the tense atmosphere as she questioned him in that tone that rang danger bells in his head, meeting all might, fighting a villain, kacchan, and- Izuku shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t like thinking about it, much less talking about it. Plus training didn’t stop him from being a crybaby, and he truly hated crying. But even acknowledging it left an ugly feeling in his stomach, made him want to writhe around in borderline disgust.
So the quirkless boy dug his face into the pillow and tried to forget, taking a deep breath much later as he started to suffocate himself. That sick feeling was here again, it made him scared, made it hard to breathe, made him want to curl up and cry, made him wonder if his brain was right, made him want to beg whatever god was out there to stop it. The feeling of wanting to die.
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Izuku accepted the graduation diploma with little fanfare, it wasn’t like he was expecting the praise Kacchan had gotten. While the blonde received pats on the back and smalltalk about vacation, Izuku received nothing but a piece of paper and the feeling that he’d achieved nothing.
The quirkless ten year old mopped the floors of his classroom at the end of the day and said goodbye to his teachers, sliding closed the doors and walking out of the school for the last time. It was much less dramatic than Izuku expected
Izuku’s walk home from his last day of elementary school was nowhere near as eventful as the day before. He watched clouds roll by lazily in the blue sky, walked through the cherry blossoms trees as petals fluttered down onto his hair. The sunlight danced around buildings and glared off of the glass windows.
Although it was spring, the weather was still fairly chilly so he stopped to retrieve his coat from his backpack and-
A scream.
He looked around him, people were flocking into a crowd where a cloud of smoke steadily rose. The old Izuku would’ve gone running, notebook in hand as he watched the fight with his eyes shining hopefully. And Izuku hesitated. As long as it wasn’t All Might it would be fine, right? He shrugged on his jacket and pulled out his notebook, sprinting towards the fight and analysing the hero and villain.
After the fight ended Izuku pondered his position on heroes. All MIght himself had said Izuku could never be one. But maybe Izuku could prove him wrong.
“Take a swan dive off the roof and hope you’ll be born with a quirk next life.” His run in with Kacchan flashed in his head.
Izuku wilted, they were right. He really couldn’t be a hero.
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Today had been a good day, Bakugou hadn’t chased after him or attacked him. His mother was in a good mood and Izuku had been extra careful with his words, rewarding him with a peaceful night.
He’d been on his way to put trash in the dumpster when he heard it.
“Are you sure this is the one?” A deep voice asked.
“Yep, fits the description perfectly.” A squeaky voice replied.
Izuku felt two sets of eyes burning into his back. He heard the shifting of one and the rustle of cloth. The boy knew from years of experience this was going to be a surprise attack.
Izuku spun around and blocked the villain’s attack. The quirkless boy wasn’t dumb, he didn’t know this man’s quirk and was definetly at a disadvantage here, Izuku’s years of physical training would help him, but now was not the time to take chances. He saw a flash of ivory skin and a trail of long black hair out of the corner of his eye.
Right as the villain recovered he charged at Izuku with an enraged look on his face. The younger immediately went into analysis mode.
Most villains either have a quirk that’s nearly useless in combat terms or have a quirk which would scare others. Izuku never made the mistake of underestimating his opponent so he did the thing he was best at. He ran.
Izuku sprinted away from the dumpster, his brain searching for a quick way out of the situation as the villain’s footsteps grew louder and a crackle of electricity sounded in his ears. He’d just about come to terms with his early death when a bored drawl came out.
“Chasing after kids now?” A white capture weapon shot out and wrapped around the villain, rendering him helpless.
Izuku was shocked when he came face to face with EraserHead. Internally, he was screaming, but externally he held a blank face. He was still on tentative terms with heroism.
“Hey kid, you okay?” Eraser Head asked, “Where are your parents?”
Izuku stayed quiet for a moment of shock before simply saying, “You’re EraserHead.”
The pro hero’s eyes widened and he looked surprised that the kid recognised him so quickly, especially since he was an underground hero for a reason. He quickly schooled his expression back to his signature apathetic look.
“Do you want to come with me to turn this villain in and I can walk you back home?” Eraser Head asked, needing a statement from him and not feeling comfortable leaving the kid alone right after a villain attack.
“Ok, thank you EraserHead.” Izuku bowed.
“My name’s Aiza-” Aizawa started.
“Aizawa Shouta, I know.” Izuku interrupted tensely.
The hero looked at the child in shock. He was an underground hero wasn’t he? How the hell did this kid know his name?
Meanwhile Izuku purposefully made distance between him and Aizawa. He didn’t trust him. Adults always failed him, why was this any different?
Aizawa noticed the kid’s nervousness and sighed.
“Come on let’s get going….?” He paused to prompt Izuku to give him his name.
“Why do you need to know that?” Izuku asked defensively. In the back of his mind, he knew it was a common gesture, but his instincts rang danger bells in his head.
Aizawa sighed, walking in silence, if the child didn’t want to tell him he didn’t have to.
I did just save his life, Aizawa reasoned to himself.
The villain struggled against Aizawa’s capture weapon, but without his quirk he was useless.
The hero pretended not to notice the bright green eyes burning holes in the back of his head.
Izuku watched Aizawa. He muttered notes to himself, analysing the older man.
They continued in near silence, the only sounds being Izuku’s quiet muttering and the faint honking of cars from the nearby highway. When they had stopped at the crosswalk on the way to the station, Izuku pulled out his phone, typing furiously and tapping at something before quickly putting it away and crossing the street.
Aizawa stopped suddenly as he reached the police station. He turned to the short boy and prepared himself for a tough conversation.
“I would like you to come in with me to the police station.” He started holding up his hand when Izuku opened his mouth to object or question his motives. “You are a witness and a victim of a villain attack. They’ll need a statement from you so the villain can be arrested and I won’t be.”
“Why would you be arrested?” Izuku questioned, didn’t they have hero licenses for a reason?
“Even if I am a hero, technically I could use my quirk to hurt people without a true cause. It’s a dumb law, but having you as a witness would save me loads of paperwork and you’d have to be interrogated anyways.” Aizawa finished. He studied the boy’s face. Now Aizawa prided himself in being able to read people but for some reason this kid was like a blank piece of paper. He showed no emotion other than hostility.
“..Ok.” Izuku bit his lip, a little bit worried about being gone for so long. His parents would never let him out after this. Oh god, he’d ruined it all. It was such a good day too. His mom hadn’t yelled or used that tone that sent shivers up his spine. He clenched his jaw. What a waste.
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Izuku walked up to open the door for the underground hero who nodded his head in thanks before dragging in the villain. He stepped into the cold station. Immediately the boy made himself aware of his surroundings. Eight security cameras that he was aware of, and more that were definitely beyond his view. Three outside in front, one facing the entrance, one in the hall, one at the front desk, one hidden in the flowerpot to Aizawa’s right, and one in the vent at the top right corner of the room, giving it a full view of the lobby.
He made eye contact with each of them briefly before noting all other items in his view. A coffee machine, three years old, cheap, probably from Costco, one cup of coffee, judging from the lack of steam coming from it, an officer with a late shift had subconsciously prepared it and then left it there. There were three metal chairs with rubber cushions behind him, a fake plant on each side. The front desk had three computers on it and Izuku was sure there was a gun in the drawer.
The receptionist was a man with a mutant quirk. He was yellow and had eyes all over his body. Izuku thought it was overkill, eight cameras and a man with eyes all over his body? He had a belt on with handcuffs that clinked happily as he shifted around on his office chair.
Aizawa noticed the boy relax his shoulders after glancing around the station for about half a minute. He’d finished signing the initial paperwork so he handed the clipboard back to the receptionist who gestured for Aizawa to follow him. The hero sighed and looked down at the boy he’d brought in. He was wary of the policemen and looked up at Aizawa as if to confirm it was safe.
He nodded and they silently followed the man with the mutant quirk to the back doors. Izuku listened as the man punched in the code to enter the office. Each touch of the keypad making a beep.
68349, Izuku thinks to himself as he walks into the office. It’s relatively quiet but there are around six officers there. Two are working in cubicles, typing away at their desktop computers. One is watching another interrogate a man with glowing blue hair through a one way mirror. Another is simply standing guard, and the last one is speaking with Aizawa.
“EraserHead! Who do we have today?” The officer greets in a friendly tone. Izuku backs up slightly, watching the man closely. He knew that appearances and tones could be deceiving.
“A lowlife villain, attacked this kid” Aizawa gestured to Izuku, “for some reason. Came across him chasing the kid around and trying to hit him with a lightning quirk. But I brought him to you because he’s got the mark.”
The officer narrowed his eyes. Izuku kept watching the man. He wasn’t an officer, Izuku realised. No, this man was a detective. He looked at the villain’s wrist and saw a brand in the shape of a sun. He studied it for a second, it was done by someone inexperienced. Either the leader of whatever organisation this is or done by a person new to the art.
From what Izuku had seen, the villain’s quirk wasn’t that strong but the situation was confusing. Electric type quirks were valuable and had many opportunities for employment as they could be so useful. Even if he had villainous intent he would be more successful working for a normal job and getting paid a lot and then just blowing the place up. Either they’ve got dirt on him or the pay’s good.
The gang must’ve been rich, Izuku muses. He remembers his attacker having a brand new rolex on his left wrist. He must’ve hidden it when EraserHead showed up. The villain’s gear was also made of good material, high quality insulating material made for winter. And it was armored. When Izuku blocked his punch he could see the metal woven into the fabric.
However the punch was badly thrown and he had horrible reflexes and truly didn’t know how to fight. Maybe they don’t train them? Or maybe, they send all their low level thugs first and if their victim somehow gets away they increase the difficulty.
Izuku kept his thoughts to himself and continued watching his surroundings.
The detective shared a silent conversation with Aizawa before gesturing towards the officer standing guard.
“Take him to an interrogation room please.” The detective ordered. Izuku felt his gaze shift off of the villain and onto him. He met his eyes and did what he always did. Izuku watched. He watched the detective’s schooled expression and found the cracks in his mask. He wasn’t an immediate threat, but he was curious. Izuku’s guard lowered slightly but he stayed suspicious of the detective.
Said detective crouched down to Izuku’s height and the ten year old boy felt a spike of irritation at being treated like a child.
“Hi there buddy, my name’s Detective Tsukauchi, in a minute I’m going to be asking you some questions. What’s your name?” He said in a quiet, kind voice that one would use with a toddler.
Izuku made a face and kept his mouth clamped shut, staring at the detective with eyes that just screamed, “shut the fuck up”.
Detective Tsukauchi’s eyes widened in surprise at both the boy’s lack of cooperation and the intense anger radiation from him.
Aizawa groaned and took matters into his own hands.
“Tsukauchi, he’s not a baby,” EraserHead bowed slightly in apology to the boy, “sorry about him, would you be okay answering some questions?” He asked hopefully. The kid would be saving him tons of paperwork and be giving Tsukauchi valuable information about an up and coming gang.
Izuku stayed quiet for a bit longer weighing the pros and cons. He was wary of the detective, he didn’t know his quirk, and based off of his line of work it probably wasn’t physical. The ten year old replied with a carefully phrased answer.
“Do I have to answer all of them?”
Both of the adults looked surprised for a moment but quickly assured the kid that he only had to answer what he was comfortable with.
Izuku followed them warily as they led him towards an interrogation room. Aizawa stood in front of the two way mirror outside of the room as Tsukauchi led the boy in and gestured to the empty seat at the far side of the table.
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Aizawa yawned and then shivered with the unmistakable feeling of being watched. He saw the boy was making direct eye contact with him despite the mirror, his gaze giving Aizawa the feeling that he was responsible for this kid and his safety.
Tsukauchi was quiet for a moment. He started off by thanking the kid for speaking with him. Izuku nodded in response.
“Ok so let’s start off with basic information. What’s your name?” He asked what seemed like a harmless question.
“Why do you need to know?” Izuku gave the same answer he gave Aizawa. He never took his eyes off of the place where Aizawa was standing.
“You realise we could just run your face, right?” Tsukauchi retorted, realising this kid would be a difficult interview.
The boy snorted, “No you couldn’t.” Izuku knew his parents hadn’t registered him. He wondered if it was to keep the government off of their back for their blatant mistreatment.
“Why do you say that?” Tsukauchi asked in a shocked voice. His quirk had registered the boy’s words as true.
“I don’t see what this has to do with the investigation.” Izuku replied.
“That’s a lie.” Tsukauchi said as his quirk registered the words.
“Oh? So that’s what it is.” Izuku simply replied, he hated quirks like these.
“We need this information because the villain targeting you is part of a gang and they’ve been kidnapping people. We are trying to find a connection.” Tsukauchi said in an urgent voice.
“I know.”
The detective’s eyes widened as his quirk registered truth. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit.
“If you don’t cooperate then we will have to arrest you for using your quirk in public.”
“Oh so you’re resorting to blackmail now, guess the police aren’t as honourable as they say. What makes you say I used my quirk?” Izuku snorted.
Tsukauchi dug his nails into his palms, leaving his knuckles white as he tried to keep his voice steady.
“EraserHead reports you were able to run from a villain with a lightning qui-” Tsukauchi stopped. The kid was right, he could’ve just been a fast runner. There was no evidence of a quirk.
“How about this, can I ask you a question and you ask me one? One veto each.” Izuku’s eyes twinkled. He really wanted to know more about this guy’s quirk.
Tsukauchi nodded his head, now wary of the young boy sitting before him.
“I’ll go first!” A smile graced the boy’s lips and Tsukauchi couldn’t help thinking it didn’t suit him.
“Does you quirk work even if you're not the one asking questions?” Izuku asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Uh, yes it does.” Tsukauchi says, taken aback by the innocent question.
The detective pondered his question for a bit, he would only be able to ask as many questions about the mysterious boy as he had about his quirk. Tsukauchi had to make them count.
“How did you meet the villain?” He asked, phrasing the question so the boy would have to give him information about the case.
Izuku smirked, knowing he could get out of answering the way he wanted without setting off the lie detector. However, Izuku knew he favoured underground heroes and even if he wasn’t on board with heroes in general, he liked Aizawa, Aizawa felt safe. He shakes his head, no, Aizawa’s an adult. Izuku doesn’t trust adults.
However much Izuku has come to terms with disliking heroes and adults, he’s pissed off that the villains came after him.
“I was going to the dumpster to throw out the trash and I heard two people discussing something about “being sure he’s the one” and then that dude attacked me.” Izuku answers the question with an adequate amount of detail.
“What do they mean he’s the one? Did they say anything else? What’s the criteria for being kidnapped? Did you see the other perso-” Tsukauchi starts rapid firing questions at Izuku, standing up in the intensity of it all.
“Hold on, I thought it was my turn to ask a question” Izuku interrupts. Tsukauchi sits back down.
“Do you have to activate your quirk or is it always on?” The boy asks, excited once again about the detective’s quirk.
“It’s always on.” The detective answers quickly, wanting to move on with the interrogation.
“Ah interesting. That must be a pain.” Izuku muses.
“Wh-” Tsukauchi wants to ask what the boy means but he refrains himself.
“I’m getting kinda bored, can we speed it up?” Izuku groans.
“Can you describe the other person at the scene?” Tsukauchi hopes the boy doesn’t answer ‘yes’ and then move on.
“Not really, I’m gonna help you out here. Their voice was squeaky, might’ve been a girl based on what I saw but who am I to assume someone’s pronouns? I think they had white skin, like really really white, and long black hair. But that’s all I know.” Izuku answered easily.
“I want to ask EraserHead a question.” Izuku stared at the spot where the man in question was.
“Why should I let you?” Tsukauchi challenges.
“It’s not your turn to ask a question, detective.” Izuku raises his eyebrow.
“If we let EraserHead in so you can ask him a question then he has to be able to ask you one.” Tsukauchi attempts to make a deal.
Izuku thinks it over for a minute and nods his head. A buzzer can be heard as Aizawa enters the room.
“Your quirk deactivates when you blink your eyes, but when you look away and keep your eyes open does the effect end on that person or does it continue until you blink no matter where you are?” The dark haired boy asks, seeming twice as excited about Aizawa’s quirk than Tsukauchi’s.
“My quirk affects whoever I’m focusing on until I blink.” Aizawa answers in a monotone voice.
“Wow, that’s so cool.” Izuku melts in adoration and the two men widen their eyes at such a large display of emotion.
“Ok then, what’s your name?” Aizawa asks. He really can’t keep referring to him as ‘that kid’ to himself.
“Veto” Izuku says, staring the man straight in the eyes.
“Different question then. What were your thoughts on the villain?” Aizawa’s eyes sparkle. THis kid was intelligent. He wanted to see what he had to say about the case.
“Oh, um, I think the gang’s either got dirt on him or they pay him a shit load. They didn’t train him though. And the gang is rich, really rich. I actually think they might be located in the hotel two blocks away. The man who attacked me had this key card in his pocket.” Izuku holds the card up between two fingers with an innocent look on his face.
Aizawa explodes into a shit eating grin.
“There you go Tsukauchi.” He stands up to leave.
“Wait.” He stops right before the door, hearing the kid’s voice.
“I still have one more question.”