Chapter Text
Izuku sat in front of his computer and sighed. Hero agencies and police databases truly did need better security. If a quirkless middle schooler could get into them, imagine what an actual villain could do! The data isn’t even encrypted, for heaven’s sake. It seemed to be a rather unfortunate pattern he had noticed. It was somewhat pathetic, honestly. Did pro heroes really underestimate villains that much? It was a miracle that they had survived this long.
Well, did that say more about the villains or the heroes? Honestly, Izuku couldn’t really tell— nor did he care.
He drafted an email as quickly as he could. No matter their security system, lives could be saved and Izuku wouldn’t be the one to prevent that.
Detective Tsukauchi,
Before you begin to worry, this email is encrypted! No data will be leaked! :)
Anyways. A little birdy told me that you’re currently working on a human trafficking ring! Well, do I have good news for you! I took the liberty of checking through the cams placed throughout the city, and noticed that the car you have marked as the last one seen with the latest victim appears quite often heading towards a building within the outer edge of the Mustafu precinct.
I, unfortunately, do not currently have the time to figure out the exact address to this building but it is on cam 7. There are also a few other cars found, so perhaps you can track those as well? To see if perhaps their range is much larger than originally predicted.
Side note - I’d suggest you update your security for your systems. If needed I can get in touch with your IT team, although I suppose you wouldn’t be too thrilled about that.
I hope this information helps your team one way or another.
A mere informant :)
The response was near instantaneous. A low chuckle escaped from Izuku’s lips. He didn’t know much about the head detective, although he hoped he was reliable. He had no way to guarantee that he wouldn’t simply just delete the email, much less trust the information. He opened the email, hoping that it wasn’t too bothersome.
Informant(?),
How did you get this email? Or this information? How would I know to trust you, when I know near to nothing about you. You didn’t even give me a name to call yourself. If this info is true, why go through the trouble of gaining access to my email, rather than filing an anonymous tip, where you could guarantee that we wouldn’t figure out who you were.
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi.
Izuku was growing exasperated. He knew the detective meant well, but the longer he waited to see whether the information was true or not—which it was—the more people that would end up hurt, or worse. He let out a sigh, trying to keep his response as pleasant (albeit snarky) as possible.
Detective Tsukauchi,
It hurts that you have so little faith in me, really! The information is entirely trustworthy, I sent clips of each time the van appeared within the cameras attached below, and of course you can check for yourself. Although, please do hurry, I personally would like to keep the carnage as minimal as possible, wouldn’t you? Either way, if you decide to ignore my perfectly helpful info, you’ll find that once you investigate that it’ll lead you to the exact place. Assuming you find this out before they change base, again.
Entirely your choice, of course.
And, the IT department? Are you going to bring it up with them or shall I?
He rubbed his eyes. He needed another cup of coffee to deal with this. Maybe two.... Or three.... Hell, he needed the whole pot at this point. He stood up from the chair at his desk, wincing as he heard his bones pop as he stretched. A warning he had been sitting for far too long.
Izuku stood at the door for a moment, listening for his mother. She was at work more often than not, but better safe than sorry. The house was silent, only his quiet breathing could be heard. Perfect. He walked down to the kitchen and prepared the coffee maker. He groaned as it started, not patient enough to wait.
A grumble escaped his lips as he noticed the time. He had his classes at the nearby dojo soon and as much as he enjoyed them, he wasn’t in the mood for another long sparring session. Izuku scrambled back upstairs as soon as he poured a mug, wanting to check his email once more before heading to the train station.
His inbox was empty. Nothing yet from the detective. He sincerely hoped that meant that he was checking his information, so that the ring could be apprehended. It was out of Izuku’s hands now, he couldn’t control the detective so he decided getting to his dojo on time would be the next thing he needed to focus on.
Let it be known, Izuku hated the train. It was loud and often crowded with nosy people. Not to mention, if anything happened, say a villain attack while the train was moving, there were few exits.
Now of course, the latter wouldn’t matter too much on a good day. But of course, with Izuku feeling restless on the train, it couldn’t be that easy. Naturally there had to be some random guy with a mutation quirk trying to mug everyone on the train.
Izuku was losing hope for a grain of common sense in their current society. Mugging. An entire train? How could anyone be that brainless.
One way or another, this guy was. “Money in the bag. All of you! I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” His voice was guttural and honestly Izuku would have thought that the mugger had some kind of plan on how the hell to make this work with how confident he was.
That was until he noticed just how bad his hands were shaking. Ah. So, maybe the confidence was a bluff. Makes sense.
Izuku rolled his eyes as the mugger made his way up to him. His mutation quirk wasn’t anything to be scared of, truthfully. Izuku had endured much worse via Bakugo’s explosions.
He raised an eyebrow at the man. Izuku just wanted to get to his station. This is not what he signed up for this morning. There was no way he was giving this random, idiotic man his money.
“Did you not hear me, kid? Money in the bag. Unless you want the alternative, of course,” The mugger’s voice shook as he spoke. How was anyone following his directions? He was clearly getting antsy and he had no control over the situation. Izuku bet he could probably disarm the man in a heartbeat.
So he did. He quickly grabbed the man's arm, knocking the gun out of his hand. Fortunately the safety was still on.
Did this idiot even know the basics on how to fire a gun?
The entire train car stood in silent shock for a moment. I mean, watching a small, unassuming, plain kid knock a gun out of a fully grown man’s hand wasn’t something that happened every day, was it?
Whoops. That surely brought unwanted attention onto himself, huh?
Some deity seemed to be smiling upon the green-haired kid today, as he noticed that he had, finally, gotten to his stop. With a small, nervous, smile, he removed himself from the awkward situation and left the train car.
He hurried off, not looking back. Izuku wanted the ground to swallow him whole. The dojo was still a good five to ten minute walk, and he knew how much his instructor valued punctuality. It was one of the main premises they were taught. He heard murmurs of gossip from other students of those who had been denied because of them being late one too many times.
Besides, his instructor put valuable time into training the group for no cost. It was the least they could all do, honestly. It was a basic form of respect.
The class seemed to pass by at a snail’s pace. His head was not in the place it needed to be, he realized as his back forcefully hit the mat, again.
“Midoriya…? Are you okay? Normally I can barely get on the offensive, much less knock you into the mat,” Ojiro, a kind boy who had been going to the class as long as Izuku could remember, spoke to him.
“Yeah, my mind is elsewhere… Sorry, I must not be the greatest sparring partner at the moment, huh?” He admitted apologetically. He wasn’t one to half-ass something, but he could not get himself to focus right now, his thoughts clearly set on coming up with a variety of responses in which he could receive from the detective.
“No worries! Do you want to take a break? Try and sort your thoughts out a bit, it’s not good to do this if you’re not entirely here.” Izuku truly believed that the boy in front of him was a godsend.
“Yeah, Ojiro, that’d be great. Thank you so much,” he responded before he walked over to the restroom, splashing some water on his face. A groan slipped from his mouth as the pain hit from being slammed into the ground. His muscles ached.
Perhaps it’d be best if he switched his attention. At least it’d lead to less injury.
Once he felt that he was ready enough, he headed back out. “Thank you Ojiro, it really is appreciated,” a small grin escaped onto his face. He truly was grateful for the blond, he was the first true friend he had in a while and didn’t seem to treat him differently despite his quirklessness.
He didn’t treat him as if he would break upon contact. Izuku was observant enough to notice how the others in the dojo would go easy on him after hearing his quirk status. It irritated him, despite him not mentioning it to the others. It was nice that Ojiro didn’t treat him like he was fragile, because if there is one word that shouldn’t (couldn’t?) be used to describe him, it was fragile. Or perhaps patient, but that wasn’t the point.
“I think that’s enough for today though. We’re almost out of time, you should go check on what’s bothering you,” the blonde gave him a gentle smile. If it was anyone else, Izuku probably would’ve felt patronized.
“Fine. But next time, you’re going down. I’ll see you later,” Izuku said, before leaving.
As he got onto the train, he couldn’t be more grateful that it was silent, with no sign of an idiotic mugger. A slightly relieved sigh escaped him.
The first thing he did upon getting home was check his email.
Informant,
Firstly, your information has been helpful, no matter how you got it. As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t believe we overlooked it. We are one step closer to bringing this thing down, thanks to you.
Secondly, the IT department has noted your… escapades. I hope that they keep you out, as this information isn’t for the general public.
While I hope that this is a one time thing, I can already tell that this is likely going to occur again, as much as I hate to admit it.
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi
Izuku had a grin on his face. So many unanswered emails to hero agencies, other precincts’ police departments, could you blame him if he was glad to finally be able to help someone? Although he couldn’t blame the others Who would trust an anonymous email, who had obviously hacked into their systems and gave advice to heroes about their quirks or information on cases that weren’t entirely disclosed to the public, Izuku could (and would) say himself that he wouldn’t trust him in their shoes.
Oh well, their loss.
Take that , All Might. Telling children that they couldn’t be heroes without quirks. How was that heroic? He was going to save people. He’d make sure of it, even if it was the last thing he’d do.
Because, unfortunately for the Number One Pro Hero, Midoriya Izuku ran off pure spite. And attempting to prohibit one's ambitions, is a very good way to make someone feel spiteful.