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The room was such that it could only be described as chilly. It wasn’t freezing, or even cold, simply chilly. The cool air was strong enough to bite through the sleeves of his UA blazer, but not enough to make him shiver.
Izuku was sat alone in such discomfort in a dull, grey box of a room. He was seated in a stiff metal chair across the table from another chair just like it. He was facing a mirror the span of the wall that he knew wasn’t, in fact, a mirror, but instead a window he was not allowed to see through.
There was a navy blue door on the wall to Izuku’s left. It was a heavy one, he knew, because the officer that had escorted him to this place had had to put forth a great deal of effort to open it.
There wasn’t a clock in the room, and in the absence of its ticking, the noise filling the room was the low hum of the cheap overhead fluorescent light that, rather than illuminate the room, seemed to drain it of color, further strengthening the dullness and the greyness of the room. The effect extended to Izuku, as well, who felt as washed out as the room he was sat in.
He had been there for a long time, and while he had been nervous upon his first entering this place, he was terrified now and hoped Detective Tsukauchi would be able to tell him why he was here and let him go.
After only God knows how long, the door was opened by a big, burly man with brown eyes and black hair as he let in a skinnier man that was a full head taller than the first, skinny as a pencil, and holding a manilla file. The door closed with a heavy thud as the larger man stepped in after the other, taking up a post in the far corner of the room in front of Izuku and looking overall intimidating.
The smaller man took the chair across from Izuku, which made a loud screech as he pulled it out. He set the file down in the middle of the table and clasped his hands in front of him as he regarded Izuku. Izuku gulped.
There was a moment of silence before he asked, “Do you know why you’re here?”
“N-no, sir,” Izuku replied.
The officer continued to stare at him. “Hm. I am Detective Suzuki,” he said before gesturing to who Izuku presumed to be his partner, “and this is Officer Nakamura.”
Izuku nodded to the man in the corner. He didn’t nod back, electing instead to glare at Izuku. It did not make Izuku feel any less nervous.
“Now, let’s begin. Where were you in the week leading up to the USJ Incident?” Suzuki asked.
Izuku blinked. “I-I’m sorry?”
Detective Suzuki’s face didn’t change. “I asked where you were leading up to the USJ Incident.”
Izuku huffed a nervous laugh before saying, “O-oh. I-I see. I thought that I… that I misheard you. Uhm, I was, uh, that was the first week of sch-school, so uh, for the first few days I pretty much stayed home all day. You know—Oh, except for my runs. I went on long runs every morning with my mentor. Uhm. Then school started, so I… went to school after my morning runs. Then I went h-home. I… that’s pretty much it, heh.”
Izuku tried to keep smiling so that he wouldn’t be suspicious. He was beginning to think that Detective Tsukauchi would not, in fact, step in, and that he may be in trouble. He was often in trouble with adults, so that was the only explanation he could think of.
“I see,” Detective Suzuki said, “and the day before?”
“The day before?”
“The USJ Incident,” Detective Suzuki clarified, “Where were you the day before the USJ Incident?”
“Oh, uh… I was. Same thing I guess. I went on a morning run, then school, then home.” Izuku was beginning to find the room a bit colder as he curled in on himself a bit.
“What about once the alarm went off?”
“The alarm? Oh! When-When the media broke, uh, broke in. Everyone went cr-crazy and I, uh, I got swept into the crowd. I was smushed up against the-the window? And, uh, I saw that it was just the media, so I told Iida, and he got Uraraka to use her quirk so that he could get above everyone and calm them down.” Izuku smiled fondly at the memory. “That’s, er, that’s actually why I gave him the position of class president.”
Detective Suzuki’s face remained a cool neutral. “Can anyone verify that?”
Izuku’s smile dropped and brows knit. “I-I… Iida. He’s the one I told. Like I said. O-or maybe Uraraka. She was there too.”
Detective Suzuki gave a low, short hum. “I see. Any… less biased people?”
Izuku balked. “I-I-I… What?”
Detective Suzuki gave him a small smile. Izuku doubted it was genuine. “Iida and Uraraka are, according to Aizawa-San, your closest friends. They would probably lie for you, right? I mean, you said yourself. It was a crazy crowd. They wouldn’t mean to lie for you, I’m sure, but it would be pretty easy to convince themselves you were there, even if you weren’t.”
Before Izuku could protest, say that his friends wouldn’t do that, Detective Suzuki continued. “Now. Moving on.”
Izuku sat back, pouting. It was quite clear he wasn’t here as a witness. He was a suspect. He just wasn’t sure of what. Until then, arguing with the man would just get him into even bigger trouble than he was already in.
Detective Suzuki opened the file, still sitting in the middle of the table, which Izuku noticed was decently thick and abused, as if it had been opened and closed many times, and pulled out his thirteenth hero analysis notebook, the one he had lost a week ago and hadn’t been able to find. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.
He had gone into his room to put away his fourteenth notebook, now completed, and found the old one missing. Someone had come into his room and taken it. Izuku asked all of his classmates if they had seen it, and they all said no, some less convincingly than others.
When he took the issue to Aizawa-Sensei, he promised to help find it, and that was when Izuku got stonewalled because Aizawa-Sensei didn't even try.
Izuku paled at the sight of it. “You didn’t— you didn’t read that, did you?” That was personal. Everyone thought they were creepy, so Deku hid them, and for good reason. Showing then to others never led to anything good.
Detective Suzuki sniffed. “Why wouldn't I?” He asked. “Are you afraid I figured out your little secret? There's some interesting stuff in here. So many pros are analyzed, so many teachers, so many of your former classmates.” He started flipping through the notebook disinterestedly.
“I-I-I—That’s private!” Izuku cried. And he did cry, he could feel tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, but he didn't let them.
Officer Nakamura, who had remained in the corner, growled at Izuku, becoming more animalistic as he bared his teeth at him. He must have had some kind of subtle mutation quirk like Miruko’s, where he didn't just take on the appearance of a creature, he took on their attributes.
Ignoring them, Detective Suzuki went on, “But that’s not even the most interesting part, no. The most interesting part is the stuff about UA staff and students for the last half of the notebook.”
Izuku was on the verge of sobbing, but he didn't let himself. He couldn't cry here.
“There's some gruesome stuff in here, kid. More than there was for any of the previous entries. Cut off young Uraraka-Chan’s fingers and her hero career is over. Alternatively, you could kidnap her parents and hold them hostage to make her do whatever you wanted her to.”
“I would never do that! I was just trying—” Izuku yelled, but he was cut off by Detective Suzuki, still slowly skimming the notebook.
“And poor young Iida-Kun. All you’d have to do is get one good rock shoved up one of his engines, and you’d effectively put him out of commission long enough for you to escape easily.”
“I told you, I would never do that— ”
Detective Suzuki cut off Izuku again. “The question is, did you give this information to the League of Villains?”
Izuku stilled. That couldn't be why he was here. They thought he was a traitor? But-but… what had he done wrong? He had always, always written those entries with the intent of preventing those exact things from happening to the first friends he had ever had in years. He would never betray them, and they knew that.
“Because, see,” said Detective Suzuki, “I think you did. I also think you snuck into the teacher's lounge during the chaos of the alarm going off the day before the USJ Incident and stole All Might’s schedule and gave that to them too. I think you somehow told them where the training camp was, I think you are the UA traitor everyone's been running around like headless chickens trying to find. When you were right here, hiding behind that sweet little smile of yours.”
Izuku was openly sobbing now, the officer in the corner glaring at him intensely. “I-I didn't …!”
Detective Suzuki shook his head and Officer Nakamura growled again. Izuku began to shiver from the cold, though the detectives mistook it as him trembling from crying so much.
Detective Suzuki groaned in disgust before getting up and leaving, Officer Nakamura following behind him, leaving Izuku all alone in the cold room.
-o-
Izuku had long since calmed down, or at least stopped crying, and Detective Suzuki and Officer Nakamura had yet to return. His mother was probably worried about him by now.
Just as he had the thought, Detective Suzuki opened the door and sat down in front of Izuku again, a woman with royal purple hair in a bun and a dainty face trailing behind him.
This time, instead of a file, he had a boring cardboard box with cutout handles. He set it down in the middle of the table as he sat.
“Where's my mom? Does she know I’m here?” Izuku asked.
Detective Suzuki ignored him. “How young were you when you started teaching yourself to analyze pro heroes? Judging by the hiragana you used in your first notebook, I’d wager you were at least six.”
Izuku was stiff and still as he replied, “I was… I was four. You have my first notebook?”
“Four? Wow,” Detective Suzuki said in fake amazement. “And, for your information kid, I don't just have your first notebook, I have all of them.”
Izuku blanched. “W-what?”
Detective Suzuki continued, “They were on school property, and Aizawa-San was happy to hand them over.”
“Th-They were in my dorm room! They— those were p-private!”
The tears were back already. Once more, they threatened to spill over.
The woman with purple hair leveled him with a look, and Izuku lurched forward with nausea. He lay there with his forehead on the table until his pounding headache went away. When he sat back up, his tears were gone as if they had never been there, his eyes completely dry.
When he could see straight again, he noticed that the box had been opened, revealing his entire notebook collection inside.
Detective Suzuki was silent the whole time, only now he held his first, seventh, and fourteenth notebook out in front of him. “How did you tell the League where the training camp was?” he asked.
Izuku shook his head. “I-I didn't. I didn't.”
Officer took a deep breath before he asked another question. “How much of the information in these notebooks does the League know?”
“I-I don't know! Anyone besides me could have seen any of the stuff in that notebook! I’m not the only person with eyes! Anything I could have figured out, they could have too, thanks to the Sports Festival! I… I was trying to prepare for that!” Izuku was sure he should be sobbing right now. But instead of the nervousness and fear and tension he had felt before he only felt anger and indignation.
Izuku was very good at not getting angry. He just… didn't. He didn't know why, but he was much more likely to get sad that someone had been mean to him than mad any day. That's not to say that he had never been mad before. He had always had days, once or twice a year, where the abuse he received at school became too much to stomach, and the only thing he could do was go to Dagobah Beach and scream until the raging inferno inside of him died down, back before he met All Might.
Still, he found it difficult to believe that his anger at this situation was in fact his own. He eyed the purple-haired woman leaning against the window. Detective Tsukauchi had permission to use his quirk in interrogations, why couldn't she? Perhaps she had some kind of emotional manipulation quirk…
The woman's already pale face turned white as a sheet. “How did you…? No one told you what my quirk was. ”
Izuku blinked. He must have been muttering again. The woman was edging towards the door, her hand blindly reaching for its handle, her wide eyes never leaving him.
“Watanabe, it's fine. He's not going anywhere, it’s not like he can tell the League anything anymore. We’ve got him,” Detective Suzuki stated.
She turned to look at him. She looked back at Izuku. She went to the corner closest to the door and leaned against it, making herself look smaller than before. It made Izuku sad.
“Do you get a kick out of scaring people, kid? Out of creeping them out with your muttering?” Detective Suzuki asked. He looked angry, his eyes darker than before as he pinned Izuku down with a glare.
Izuku's gaze snapped back to him. “W-what? No-no!”
“When did you join the League of Villains?”
“I didn't! The first time I had ever even heard of them was at the USJ where they tried to kill me! Ask Tsu! She was right there when the nomu was about to crush me. Please, you have to believe me!” Izuku's anger was back in force. He was so frustrated with being kept here and they didn't believe him why didn't they—
“It could’ve been an act. Perhaps it was some kind of plan to hurt All Might. You're gonna have to do better than that, kid.”
The room was freezing, and Izuku was beginning to find it difficult to breathe. “I-I-I don't know what you w-want from me. I didn't do it .” The tears were back, threatening him again, and again, Izuku was hit by a massive headache and he crumpled in his seat as his eyes dried themselves. He was panting now.
“I’m not a villain, you idiot!” Izuku shouted as he stood up. And just like that, the anger was gone, replaced with a mind-numbing terror. What had he just done?
Detective Suzuki sneered. “Well,” he said, “you sure sound like one. Why don't you sit down?”
Izuku plopped down, his expression blank. He had just yelled at a detective. They were going to send him to jail, he was going to end up in Tartarus —
“Detective Tsukauchi,” Izuku said, a new spark entering his eyes. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? If he could convince the to have Detective Tsukauchi conduct the interrogation, then he would be cleared easily. “I can tell him, and he can confirm I’m telling the truth. Just-just bring him here.”
Detective Suzuki’s expression darkened, and Izuku knew he had made a mistake. “I assure you that I am perfectly capable of handling my own interrogations. Not every department has a lie-detecting quirk. What, do you think we all sit here twiddling our thumbs until some bigshot with a perfect quirk for our job shows up?”
Izuku shook his head. He had made an awful mistake.
“I don’t need his quirk to tell me you’re guilty, I already know, and guess what, kid. When they throw you in jail, it's gonna be a quirkless man who put you in there.”
Izuku startled. “You-you're… you’re Q-Q-Quirk-Quirkless?” His mouth struggled to form the word. He hadn’t heard it in a long while. After he officially inherited One for All, no one saw fit to talk about his previous quirkless status.
Detective Suzuki smiled before standing up, grabbing the cardboard box and leaving, Officer Watanabe following closely behind.
-o-
Izuku sat in the numb, frozen greyness for a long time, definitely longer than the two times before, and he felt sure he had stayed overnight. Unfortunately, he hadn't managed to get any sleep, too wired to lay his head down.
He had gotten up and thoroughly searched the room for anything useful. He could now safely say there was no tunnel leading him out of this hell.
All the while, a little white camera hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room, its red light blinking to indicate that it was on. Izuku wasn't sure if someone was actively watching the feed or if it was just on to scare him, but it was enough to keep Izuku on edge.
When Detective Suzuki came back in, he was sitting back in the metal chair facing the one-way glass. Detective Suzuki looked extraordinarily pleased with himself. Unlike the other times, he came alone.
He sat down across from Izuku and sighed contentedly before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Do you know why today is a good day, kid?”
Izuku shook his head, slowly.
Detective Suzuki looked positively delighted as he said, “Because today I get to put a terrible villain behind bars.”
Izuku flinched. He didn't want to go to jail, he hadn't done anything wrong.
Detective Suzuki laughed as he sat back in his chair. “Now,” he said, “We both know you're guilty, so why not just answer my questions honestly, and then we can make the incarceration process quick and painless, hm?”
Izuku didn't move, too tired and hopeless to react. He absently wondered if All Might knew about this. Probably, he was a teacher at UA, he had to have at least noticed his absence. Aizawa-Sensei knew, obviously, and didn't that betrayal sting? His mom… she must be worried sick if she didn't. Actually, she was probably worried sick either way.
He thought of his friends, the ones who had lied about not having seen his notebook. He wondered if they believed he belonged here.
He had had a lot of time to think about the situation, what with the long periods they had left him alone in this box-shaped room. There was obviously nothing he could do about this situation. Detective Suzuki was completely convinced it was him. And why? Because Izuku wrote in his notebooks about things he was terrified would happen to his friends.
Detective Suzuki cleared his throat. “Hello? You still with me, kid?”
Izuku jumped, his focus landing back on Detective Suzuki, who smirked.
“I asked why you started writing these notebooks for villains.”
Izuku stared blankly at him. He didn't want to answer.
Detective Suzuki’s smirk faded. “There's no point not telling me.”
Izuku let him stew a little more before he replied, “I was a late bloomer. My quirk, it was volatile, you probably saw it at the Sports Festival. If it had manifested any earlier, I might not have limbs right now.” His voice was flat and monotone.
“So?” Detective Suzuki tilted his head in apparent boredom.
“Everyone thought I was quirkless. That's why they called me Deku. I was worthless without a quirk.” Detective Suzuki’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. “Those notebooks… I wanted to be a hero, but I guess, after a while, it was my way to get back at them for…” Izuku trailed off, no longer looking at Detective Suzuki but instead at the table.
“I bet it made you feel pretty powerful then, huh kid?”
Izuku shook his head. “Not really. I never used any of the information. It just… comforted me, I guess. To know.” He didn’t stutter. He didn’t know why for sure, he just didn’t. He supposed it was because he had finally accepted that nothing he could say would change the fact that he would be going to jail.
Detective Suzuki nodded slowly. “And when did you get tied up with the League and start giving them the information in the notebooks?”
“I didn't. And I never will. They’ve tried to kill me and the first real friends I’ve had since I was four repeatedly.” Izuku still didn't look at Detective Suzuki. He didn't want to see the anger on his face at Izuku's refusal to confess.
Before Detective Suzuki could respond, there was the sound of footsteps outside, which hadn’t been there any of the times before Detective Suzuki came in. After a few seconds of the two blankly staring at the door, it burst open, and in stormed Tsukauchi with Aizawa-Sensei following closely behind.
Detective Suzuki stood up while Izuku stared wide-eyed as Tsukauchi took in the scene. “Suzuki,” he growled, “why are you interrogating Midoriya when the UA traitor is my case?”
Detective Suzuki sputtered. “Your case? Look, I took it up with the chief and he said…”
Izuku stopped listening when he started to raise his voice. Aizawa-Sensei crouched in front of him so that he was at the same level as Izuku. Silent tears started streaming down his face as he leaned away from the teacher that had sold him out.
Aizawa-Sensei was speaking quietly to him. “Problem Child, I’m so sorry. It was Tsukauchi who was supposed to talk to you then he would exonerate you. I’m so sorry Midoriya. He was supposed to clear you of suspicion, I never thought — Midoriya, I need you to look at me, can you do that?” Izuku was watching Tsukauchi grab Suzuki by the arm and drag him out of the room, presumably to take him to the police chief.
Aizawa-Sensei just kept murmuring to him. It was comforting, though what he was saying didn’t quite register with him. No matter what he was saying, Izuku was willing to forgive him, he didn’t want to be at odds with the first teacher that hadn’t treated him differently because of his quirk or lack thereof. He had put his hands around Izuku's and Izuku let him calm him down, sobs starting to escape him as he broke down in front of his teacher.
Izuku didn't know how long had passed like that, Aizawa-Sensei apologizing and saying he thought Tsukauchi would be able to take care of it, saying that Izuku would be alright and would see his mom soon, and saying other soft things that made Izuku feel better.
Eventually, when Izuku stopped crying, Detective Tsukauchi escorted him to his desk, asking simple questions and marking down that he was telling the truth for each answer he gave.
“Do you write in those notebooks with the intent to harm others?”
“No.”
“Are you in any way affiliated with the League of Villains?”
“They’ve tried to kill me a few times but otherwise no.”
“Have you given any information about your classmates or teachers to any villains, regardless of whether or not they were in the League?”
“I would never.”
It continued like this for a few minutes while Tsukauchi finished his interview, which only lasted a few minutes, Aizawa-Sensei took him to a car outside the station where he would be driven to UA.
Izuku had to stop outside the door for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight. It was warm outside today, and Izuku's fingers started prickling at the dramatic change in temperature.
There was a sleek black car with tinted waiting in the street out front and Aizawa-Sensei let go of Izuku to step ahead and open the car door for him.
That was when Izuku realized he wouldn't be going to jail. That he was fine, that it was over.
But at the same time, a thought niggled at the back of his head. He wasn't done, not really. There had been people who genuinely thought that Izuku was guilty. There was a trust that had been broken. They might not believe that he was innocent despite how he had spent the past day.
He had a few options. He could go back and pretend nothing had happened and hope his classmates did the same. He could become angry at them like Kacchan would, yell at them and interrogate them the way he had been interrogated. He could cut them out of his life and believe he was better off without them. He didn’t know what he should do. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. All because he wrote his notes in a notebook, notes that weren’t even that good.
There was a sick feeling in his stomach when he thought about possibly having to dispose of his notebooks. He wasn’t sure he was capable of it.
No, this wasn't over, and Izuku doubted it would be for a very long time yet.