Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Can someone quirkless like me be a hero, too?”

Izuku had always wanted to be a hero. For years, he always believed he could be, despite what everyone said. But this was the moment of truth. This was the moment he had been waiting for. 

Izuku had the chance to ask the one person he wanted to hear from the most. He was his idol, his reason for chasing this impossible dream, the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace: All Might… who wasn't actually as buff as everyone thought. He had deflated like a balloon, looking like a plain, skinny civilian. That was probably a hereditary passive quirk All Might had, and Izuku was tempted to ask about it, but he had to remind himself that All MIght’s quirk is not the point right now. 

Izuku glanced up at All Might, anxiously awaiting his answer. The pro hero sighed and walked towards the door that led off the roof. “Young man, I am truly sorry. Hero work is dangerous, even with a quirk.” He turned to Izuku, who was still rooted in place, as he opened the door. He looked him straight in the eyes so he could plainly see his resoluteness. “You can’t become a hero.” The door shut behind him.

Izuku stared at the closed door for a moment, processing All Might’s words. 

“You can’t become a hero.”

So, wait, does that mean…

Oh, it does.

I guess everyone was right.

In his mind, his mom’s desperate sobs replayed, “I’m sorry, Izuku, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

Kacchan’s words echoed in his head, “If you want to be a hero so badly, there’s a quick way to do it. Believe you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof!”

"You can't become a hero."

Wait, was this all real? Izuku surveyed his surroundings blankly. Oh right. He had refused to let go of All Might’s leg after that sludge villain attack, so he had to stop at a random building. And, conveniently, Izuku was standing on the roof. There were no security cameras up here, and nothing anyone would come looking for, either.

Izuku stumbled towards his backpack, which had been discarded near the railing. He shuffled its contents around until he found a notebook, a pen, and a plastic bag from his last trip to the convenience store. Ah, his notebooks. Most of them had been destroyed and this one, Hero Analysis for the Future No. 13 , was no exception. Izuku flipped through the waterlogged pages, smiling fondly at his notes and sketches. At the end of his notes, he began to write a new entry for himself. 

When he finished, Izuku pulled out his phone. “Hello, police? I would like to report a suicide in Shizuoka Prefecture, Musutafu. Hm? Oh, no, he won’t be alive by the time you get here, that’s why I didn't call the ambulance. Who is the victim? This will sound a little odd, but it’s me.” He hung up and returned his phone in his bag.

The breeze ruffled his hair as he slipped his shoes off. The sun warmed his skin as he stepped over the railing. He took a deep breath, savoring the taste of the wind. Gripping his notebook, he smiled. And Midoriya Izuku dove.

Chapter Text

Tsukauchi was a detective, so it wasn't unusual for him to be called to the scene of a murder. But this time was different. An unusually calm boy had called the police instead of the ambulance for a suicide. The strangest part, though, was who he said the victim was before hanging up. Tsukauchi immediately alerted all pro heroes near Musutafu to be on the lookout for a young boy who may or may not have already committed suicide. The heroes were instructed to immediately call for backup if they found him.

As the minutes ticked by, Tsukauchi became more and more anxious. The caller was a young boy, probably in middle school. He had heard a slight breeze through the receiver, so he had instructed the heroes to focus on finding the boy outside somewhere. Still, Tsukauchi couldn’t help it. He was worried for the kid. Never before had he seen someone report their own suicide.

Lost in thought, Tsukauchi almost missed a call. Quickly answering the phone, he said, “Did you find him?”

A female voice spoke from the other end. “Yes,” said Miruko softly. “The kid was right. He can’t be saved.”

He immediately jumped up and grabbed his coat, speeding to Miruko’s location, sirens wailing. “Stay there and keep civilians away from him until the other pros and an ambulance get there. I’m on my way so don’t hang up.”

“Okay… God, Tsukauchi,” Miruko sounded like she was about to cry. “I can’t even see his face but I can tell. He’s so young.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Miruko. Just hold on a little longer. Eraserhead is closest to you. He should be there in two minutes.”

----------

Aizawa was used to dealing with the darker side of reality. Miruko, however, was not. When Tsukauchi had sent him a text with Miruko’s location, he knew she had found the kid, and he knew what he wanted him to go there for. As an underground hero and a licenced therapist, Aizawa was the only on-duty hero equipped to deal with the current situation. 

He arrived in a back alley near a tall, abandoned shopping center. Miruko stood nearby, hugging her knees and trying to hold back her sobs. It was rare to see such an outgoing, tough hero showing weakness like this. While trying to comfort her, Aizawa glanced at the body. Blood had splattered against the walls and all over the floor, pooling around the boy as it began to dry in the blazing sun. His head was split open like a pinata, having taken the most damage. His hair was a dark crimson color. The shoulders and chest seemed as if they were broken on impact. The remnants of a smile was still frozen on what was left of the boy’s face, and dried tear streaks stained his freckled cheeks.

Aizawa focused his attention back to Miruko.  After a few minutes, Tsukauchi and the police force arrived. They taped off the alleyway so that no civilians would be able to see the boy. An ambulance loaded the body onto a stretcher and carted him off to the emergency room in attempts to save him, although they all knew he was beyond help.

At some point, Miruko was taken away by paramedics, but Aizawa didn't pay much attention. When they had picked up the boy, something had fallen out of his arms. Aizawa picked it up carefully. A convenience store plastic bag, caked in warm blood, was tied tightly over some type of book. 

He locked eyes with Tsukauchi, silently asking for permission to look inside. With a sharp nod and an intense yet curious gaze, Aizawa untied the bag. It was a burned and wrinkly notebook labeled Hero Analysis for the Future No. 13 .

Tsukauchi peered over his shoulder. “We need to see if he left a note or student ID inside, since we don't know where his belongings are.”

“Good idea,” Aizawa muttered, flipping through the pages. This notebook was filled with entries of complex analyses of pro heroes’ costumes, quirks, and fighting styles. Detailed sketches accompanied each hero, and little markings pointed to different components of their costumes that were referred to in the analyses. 

Aizawa was pleasantly surprised. This kid was smart; his critical thinking and analysis skills were far above his grade level. Nedzu would love him. Aizawa could tell the boy loved heroes and analysis. If only his students at UA loved analysing as much as this kid does… did . Aizawa had to remind himself that this boy’s future was cut short. This notebook belonged to a dead person, who couldn't attend UA, or become a hero like those he obviously admired. What had driven such a bright boy to commit suicide?

His answer came from the very last entry in the boy’s notes. It was not about a hero, or even a vigilante. It was about the boy himself. 

Midoriya Izuku

Age 15

Quirk: Quirkless

He always dreamed of being a hero, but it was always impossible. Sometime in the afternoon of September the XX of the year 20XX, he took a swan dive off a roof, hoping for a quirk in his next life. 

Aizawa froze, connecting a few dots. Tsukauchi stifled a gasp. The kid was quirkless, which was always accompanied by severe bullying. And it seemed that suicide baiting was a part of the picutre, too. Judging from the way the kid had written that last bit, someone had told him to kill himself. There was no question about that. 

Aizawa studied the sketch next to the entry. With unusual detail compared to his other drawings, the boy had penned his hair, freckles, bright green eyes, and scars. Littered across his abdomen, arms, and legs, vaguely hand-shaped burns marred his skin. A few deep, straight cuts were drawn on the boy’s biceps and thighs. So, thought Aizawa grimly, not only was this kid verbally bullied, but he was also physically abused, which resulted in self-harm and depression.

With gross curiosity and the sobering feeling of responsibility, Aizawa continued to read.

As I fall, I will hold onto this with all my strength, so that the police can identify me. When that happens, I’m sure they’ll interview everyone I know about why I did this. I’m sure no one will have the right answer. And none of this was any of their faults, I promise. When you go to everyone to deliver the news, could you show these notes to the people they are addressed to? I have a few last words I would like them to read.

Aizawa closed the book gently. This was not for his eyes. 

Turning to Tsukauchi and holding out the notebook, he said, “Make sure you get this to the kid’s parents. Judging from the contents, he was abused and bullied. He self-harmed and probably had depression.”

Tsukauchi gingerly took the notebook. “Of course. But first we have to confirm his identity. If what you say turns out to be true, I may ask you to come with me to deliver the news.”

Wordlessly, Aizawa launched himself up to the rooftops with his capture weapon. The thought of a warm cup of tea and a hug from HIzashi pushed him through the rest of his patrol.

Chapter Text

The boy did not live. An hour after he was found, he had passed away in the emergency room. The police had found the boy’s belongings and shoes on the roof of a run-down shopping center. His student ID matched the information written in the notebook. Midoriya Izuku, a quirkless 15-year-old, attended Aldera Junior High. His mother, Midoriya Inko, lived at home with him, and his father, Midoriya Hisashi, was working abroad and hadn’t been back to Japan in 11 years. Beyond this basic information, Tsukauchi and Aizawa didn’t know much else about Izuku. 

A few streets away from Midoriya’s house, Aizawa found Tsukauchi waiting for him, staring blankly at his phone. Aizawa approached him, careful to be somewhat loud as he walked. Being an underground hero improved his stealth, but sometimes Aizawa found himself being too quiet when he moved, startling people when he approached. 

“Tsukauchi,” he called. 

The detective glanced up and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Hey, Eraser. You ready?”

They began walking towards Midoriya's house. Aizawa sighed, “I guess. How is Miruko holding up?”

“I think she’ll be okay. I asked her to seek out Hound Dog for a few therapy sessions to help her process this incident. She really blames herself for not finding him sooner.”

“Ah, I see,” Aizawa replied. “Make sure you take care of yourself, too, Detective.”

“Sure. Same to you, Eraser,” Tsukauchi responded. They fell into a comfortable silence as they rounded the last corner.

Tsukauchi fixed his police hat before knocking on the door. A short, plump woman with tired green eyes and green hair answered the door. “How may I help you two?” she asked.

Tsukauchi showed her his police badge, saying, “Good evening, Midoriya Inko-san. I’m Detective Tsukauchi Naomosa, and this--” He gestured to Aizawa, who pulled out his hero license. “-- is pro hero Eraserhead. May we come inside?”

“O-oh, of course,” she squeaked, showing them inside and motioning to the dining table. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Midoriya-san,” Aizawa replied politely, sitting down. 

He observed Inko as she prepared some tea for herself. She was timid and a little anxious, rushing about as to not keep her guests waiting. Aizawa assumed that her son had inherited her slightly nervous personality, resulting in a timid nature, an easy target for bullies.

“Alright, then.” Inko sat down with her tea, giving the two a curious glance. “May I ask why you're here? Has my son Izuku gotten into trouble?”

Tsukauchi sighed, “There is no easy way to say this, Midoriya-san. This afternoon at 15:17, September XX, 20XX, your son, Midoriya Izuku, committed suicide.”

Aizawa mentally cringed at Tsukauchi’s delivery. That was supposed to be his job, since that was mostly the reason he was here. But Aizawa said nothing, allowing Inki to stop and process Taukauchi’s words.

Inko stopped breathing, eyes wide. Her boy, her precious, innocent Izuku. Her child who always smiled and did well in school. The light of her life… killed himself? She stared at Tsukauchi and Aizawa, searching for a hint of deception in their expressions. But there was none. Tears welled up in her eyes. “What do you…” 

“We couldn’t save him,” Aizawa stood up and bowed deeply. “I’m so sorry. I was too late.”

“No no, you must be mistaken,” she denied. “My son is the happiest kid I’ve ever seen. If something bad was going on, he would tell me.”

Tsukauchi handed Inko Izuku’s notebook and backpack. “He was holding this. In the back, there is a note for you.”

With shaky hands and blurry vision, Inko took the notebook and backpack from him. Aizawa studied her as she read her son’s suicide note.Tears spilled from her eyes as she shook with silent sobs. 

Aizawa hated how broken her next words sounded. “So… he really is… gone?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m very sorry,” Aizawa whispered. Inko crumpled to the floor and sobbed into his arms, the reality of the situation hitting home. 

After almost an hour, Inko’s tears had dried up. She pulled away, straightened her dress out, and smiled sadly at Aizawa and Tsukauchi. “Thank you very much for delivering Izuku’s belongings to me. And thank you very much for trying to save my son,” she said with a bow. 

“Midoriya-san,” Tsukauchi said carefully, “we have reason to believe your son was aggressively bullied and physically abused. Would you be willing to answer a few questions about his home and school life?”

She stood up a little straighter, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Yes, I can do that. However, I ask that you please give me at least a day to mourn and inform his friends.”

“Of course, Midoriya-san,” Aizawa said softly. “Take as much time as you need. We will come back in a day to conduct an investigation.”

She accompanied them to the door and smiled sadly. Just as they were leaving, Inko called, “Oh, Tsukauchi-tantei, Eraserhead-san. I do have one question that should peak your interest as well. It’s about his final note.”

Aizawa and Tsukauchi turned to her. “Of course. What is it?”

“It sounds like he met All Might just before he passed. If it had been any time sooner, he definitely would have told me. Do you have any idea why Izuku ‘took’ All Might’s career advice?”

Aizawa managed to keep a straight face and a calm voice as he spoke, “I’m not sure, ma’am, but we can find out if you would like.” Oh, All Might was in big trouble now.

Chapter Text

Toshinori was enjoying his evening tea, delighted at this spare moment of rest. He glanced at his phone on the counter, surprised to see 17 missed calls from Tsukauchi. “What the--” His phone rang, again from Tsukauchi. Toshinori sighed and answered the call.

“Toshinori! You finally picked up, thank god,” Tsukauchi yelled.

“Tsukauchi, wh--”

“No time to explain,” he interrupted hurriedly. “Eraserhead is on his way to your house. He should be there any minute now!”

“And why is that a bad thing? He knows about my skinny form and time limit already.”

Tsukauchi sounded frantic. “He stole your civilian file to find your address without permission. Also, he said he was going to, and I quote, Beat the living shit out of him. I don’t give a damn that he’s the number one hero! ”

The blood drained from Toshinori’s face. Aizawa never swore or threatened to beat someone up lightly, especially if that someone was of a higher rank than he. Toshinori must have done something terrible to get this kind of reaction from the underground hero. But the thing is, he hadn’t done anything remotely bad lately. 

“All right,” he gulped, “I’ll be ready when he gets here.”

“Okay, great. I just wanted to warn you before you say something stupid and really do get beat up by Eraser. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an investigation case to rebuild because someone stole that, too.” Tsukauchi hung up, exasperated.

Just then, a window shattered and a figure dressed in dark clothing swung in. Aizawa activated his quirk, furious and annoyed. “Finally,” he groaned loudly. “Those assholes wouldn’t tell me how to contact you, so I did some investigating on my own. And it took me a whole fucking day to find you, All Might.”

Oh dear. Toshinori smiled nervously. “Aizawa, my friend. One day is very impressive. What brings you here?”

Aizawa frowned, brushing shattered glass off his shoulders. “Oh, no reason, really,” he muttered dryly. “Just that a boy died because of you.”

Now it was Toshinori’s turn to frown. “No one has died on my account. I always save everyone from villain attacks.”

“You idiot. People can die for other reasons.” Aizawa shoved a file into his hands. “Read it,” he said tersely.

Toshinori obeyed. There was a photo of a young boy with a smile as warm as sunshine. He had bright green hair and matching eyes. Freckles dotted his cheeks like stars. As Toshinori skimmed this boy’s profile, his eye caught on an unusual thing.

MIDORIYA Izuku

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: July 15, 20XX

Date of Death: 15:17, September XX, 20XX

Quirk: None

“A quirkless young man,” he noted aloud, much to Aizawa’s annoyance. “How sad.”

“There’s more,” Aizawa said impatiently. “Keep looking, dumbass.”

Toshinori sighed and began to flip through the papers. The last thing he was expecting to see was photographs of the boy’s broken form. His head was split open and his blood splattered everywhere. More photos of the autopsy revealed scars, previously covered up by his school uniform. Most of his scars were burns, and others large cuts covering his arms and thighs like sleeves. Stunned, Yagi kept staring at the photos. His mind raced, trying to figure out why a villain would do something like this.

“You missed the last bit,” Aizawa called, coming from the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hands. “The very last one’s for you, All Might .”

Cautiously, Toshinori pulled out the last bunch of photos kept together with a paperclip. It was labeled, “Suicide Note.”

“Wait… he killed himself?” he asked incredulously. “But, with those photos… what a brutal way to die.”

Aizawa said nothing, only sipping his tea and staring intently at Toshinori. He nodded slightly, urging him to continue.

Toshinori read the last document. 

SUICIDE NOTE: ALL MIGHT

“All Might, thank you for being my reason to continue dreaming. I will always be grateful for the knowledge and joy you have given me. Because of your thoughtfulness for my safety, I will take your career advice.”

Toshinori went silent. Take my career advice? he thought. But all he ever did was encourage people to be heroes. And Midoriya Izuku had committed suicide. Had… had the boy heard something different from him? And when?

He flipped back to the boy’s portrait and stared. After a long moment, it clicked. Toshinori had saved this boy from that sludge villain. The boy had grabbed onto him just as he left, so he had to stop on a rooftop and let him down. And Midoriya Izuku had asked him a question, eyes filled with anxiety, hope, and yearning.

“Can someone quirkless like me be a hero, too?”

“You can’t become a hero.”

Oh, right. Toshinori schooled his expression as he realized exactly what he had done. He had crushed Midoriya’s dream and left him all alone on the roof of a very, very tall building.

----------

Aizawa watched the number one hero process the information in Izuku’s file. Slowly, Toshinori’s face morphed from curiosity to shock and quickly back again as he schooled his expression. Aizawa had gotten the answer he was looking for. Time to end this man’s whole career. He stood up and set down his tea, silently creeping up to the number one hero.

“You met this boy,” Aizawa said slowly. “You met him and did something awful to him. That's what he meant by ‘career advice.’ And as a result, he killed himself.” 

When Toshinori didn’t respond, Aizawa was livid, activating his quirk. “What ‘career advice’ did you give him that he would be willing to take his life like this?!”

“He asked if he could be a hero,” Toshinori said nonchalantly. “He was quirkless, and hero work is dangerous, even with a quirk. So I told him no.”

Aizawa took a step back, deactivating his quirk and steadying himself on a nearby table. Insults swirled through his mind. His next words were wrapped with wrath, disappointment, and disgust. “ You , the great All Might, crushed the only dream of a depressed, suicidal boy.”

Aizawa swiveled, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Again, his rage was met with silence. He studied Toshinori’s face as he spoke, looking for any hint of regret or sorrow, but the Symbol of Peace had schooled his expression once again. 

“Miruko and I found him, you know.” Aizawa continued, recalling his meetings with Midoriya Inko and all her stories and photo albums about her son. “Tsukauchi-san and I had to deliver the news to his mom. He was so intelligent. His Hero Analysis notebooks were so detailed, even Nezu would be impressed. He could analyze quirks better than any analyst at the Hero Commission. And above all, he admired you more than anything. His room was decorated with posters and figurines of you.” 

Aizawa refocused on the task at hand: making this asshole realize just how badly he had fucked up. “His mom also told us that his dream was to attend UA and become a hero, just like All Might, who saves thousands of hopeless people like him without even realizing it,” he spat.

He glared at Toshinori again, who remained impassive.

“You should have seen how broken his mom is,” Aizawa chuckled humorlessly, trying to contain his grief. “She'll never get to see her kid’s eyes light up when he mentioned you. She’ll never get to hear his excited voice when he talks about heroes. She’ll never get to see his big smile when he mentioned his dream to be a hero.”

Finally, Toshinori spoke. And Aizawa wished he had a silencing quirk instead of an erasure quirk because the words from Toshinori’s mouth made his blood boil.

“Yes, it is tragic that a student like Young Midoriya-kun committed suicide. I understand his mother must be devastated. But aren’t you overreacting a little, Aizawa-kun? I spoke the truth and nothing more.”

“He's dead because of you, All Might !” Aizawa roared, face morphing into fury as he shoved Toshinori against a wall. He felt his quirk activate reflexively, but ignored it. “Words carry far more power than your muscles ever could, you bastard. Izuku’s only reason for living was to hear you say ‘yes, you can be a hero.’”

Toshinori said nothing more. Aizawa realized he wouldn’t be able to get anything else from him today.

“This conversation is over for now,” Aizawa drew back. As he climbed out the window, he pulled out a voice recorder and his phone. Toshinori blanched when he saw the name on the screen. “Tsukauchi-san, Midoriya-san, and the police department will need you to come in for an investigation.”

A malicious grin spread across Aizawa’s face. “And you can’t hide from this, All Might. The media will be able to find you in a heartbeat, you know.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki was sitting on the couch, munching on some spicy ramen and watching anime. He pretended to be bored, but he was actually intently watching the TV. This anime was a romance about a star student and her crush on a delinquent boy. Definitely Katsuki’s cup of tea, but he wouldn't admit it. A sudden announcement popped up on screen, catching Katsuki off guard.

“We interrupt your usual programing to bring you breaking news,” said newscaster Daikaku urgently. “All Might, has been found guilty of provoking the death of a young boy.”

An image flashed on screen behind the reporter. Katsuki choked on his noodles. It was a picture of Deku, smiling brightly, eyes full of hope and ambition.

The newscaster continued, nervously rubbing the horn on his head. “The boy was Midoriya Izuku, age 15, quirk: undisclosed. After being saved from a villian by All Might on September XX, 20XX, the boy’s dream of being a hero was crushed by the very person who had inspired it.”

An audio recording began to play, subtitles appearing as words were spoken. Kasuki listened closely. A calm, gruff voice spoke first.

Eraserhead: “You met this boy. You met him and said something awful to him. That's what he meant by ‘career advice.’ And as a result, he killed himself.” 

There was a moment of silence before Eraserhead spoke again, angry this time.

Eraserhead: “What ‘career advice’ did you give him that he would be willing to take his life like this?!”

All Might: “He asked if he could be a hero […] and hero work is dangerous [...] So I told him no.”

Even from a recording, Katsuki could hear the rage and disgust laced through Eraserhead’s next words.

Eraserhead: " You , the great All Might, crushed the only dream of a depressed, suicidal boy.”

The audio recording and subtitles faded back to the distraught-looking newscaster. “You just heard a recording of the conversation between underground hero Eraserhead and Number One hero All Might. Eraserhead confronted All Might about Midoriya Izuku’s death and recorded the conversation as evidence for the police investigation.”

Katsuki’s jaw dropped. He heard his parents gasp. Auntie Inko, who had been staying over at the Bakugou household since she received the news, began to cry. They all stared at the TV, speechless, as the broadcast continued.

“Because of his carelessness, All Might will be banned from any and all teaching positions, including internships, and will be fired from his job at UA. His hero license has been immediately suspended. As we speak, the Hero Public Safety Commision is discussing his further consequences and voting on whether or not All Might’s hero license will be permanently revoked. A mob has gathered outside the Commission in response to this revelation. Let’s take a look at what Miyagi is up to on the scene.”

The screen changed to show a female reporter standing in front of a mob outside of the Hero Commission. The clamor of the mob was deafening. Some screamed for All Might to prove the news report wrong. Others yelled for him to explain himself. A few minor heroes Deku would have recognized attempted to disperse and control the crowd, but their efforts were in vain. The mob just ramped it up. 

“Thank you, Daikaku. I am outside the Hero Commission, reporting live,” said the reporter, almost yelling into her microphone to be heard over the ruckus. “A mob has quickly gathered here, demanding for All Might to make an appearance. We have tried to interview some of the people gathered, but things quickly got violent. So let’s try to get a word from a hero, instead.”

Miyagi looked around and spotted Hawks, making her way over to him as he struggled to hold back the mob. She stuck the microphone out to him, saying, “Excuse me, Hawks-san! What do you have to say to those watching this unravel from home?”

Despite his obvious struggle, Hawks managed a strained smile. “During this time of mass distress,” he said calmly, “we urge civilians to stay indoors to minimize damages. Please be patient as the Hero Commission discusses the matter. We will update you all when a decision has been made.”

“Thank you, Hawks-san,” she said, pulling away from the roaring crowd. “Daikaku, back to you.”

“Stay safe out there, Miyagi,” Daikaku said as the screen changed to show the news station. “We will give live updates as we receive them, so stay tuned for the latest news. Until next time, I've been your host, Daikaku, from News 7.” The TV flicked back to the romance anime

----------

The sobs finally stopped three hours later. Mitsuki managed to guide Inko to the guest room before she passed out from exhaustion. Mitsuki sighed, returning to the living room where her husband and son waited for her. At least, she thought, I have this much. Poor Inko never had much of a husband to rely on in the first place. Now that her only son was dead, she had no one left anymore. 

Three days ago, Inko had shown up on the Bakugou’s doorstep late at night with barely enough energy to stand. After at least an hour, Inko finally managed to tell them what had happened. Izuku had committed suicide. That was all she was able to say before weeping into Mitsuki’s arms. Since then, Mitsuki refused to let Inko go home by herself. She wanted Inko to know that she, Masaru, and Katsuki were still here for her.

A big warm embrace snapped Mitsuki from her thoughts. She consciously reminded herself not to lash out, since only Masaru and Katsuki were present. She glanced down to see Katsuki burying his face in her shoulder. It was rare for him to initiate physical touch, especially from her. Maybe it was because their brash personalities clashed so often, but he usually responded better to Masaru’s touch. 

Mitsuki hugged Katsuki back, running her fingers through his rough blond hair. She said nothing, waiting until Katsuki was ready to speak. Ever since Inko had shown them Izuku’s suicide notes addressed to them, Katsuki began to acting a little differently. He had been very jittery lately. He slightly flinched away from physical affection, retaliating with harsh words. He hated talking about school or Izuku, and subtly struggled to hold back his quirk when he got angry. He started spending more time locked in his room. Mitsuki noticed these small changes, but wouldn't press Katsuki for answers if he didn't want to talk about it. Because they fight so often and test each other’s limits, she liked to think she knew her son’s boundaries well. 

But that didn't mean she always knew how to deal with him. His teachers and peers messed up his view of the world. It wasn’t Katsuki’s fault he was a major ass (well, mostly). It was the society that taught him this behavior was okay solely because he had a great quirk, and therefore great heroic potential. Mitsuki tried her best to teach her son to be kinder, but her angry and harsh personality didn't help much.

At some point, Masaru had joined them in a gentle family hug. Katsuki seemed to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, he spoke after a long moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Mitsuki asked, trying to keep confusion and surprise out of her voice. Katsuki rarely apologized for anything, let alone owned up to mistakes.

Katsuki continued hesitantly, sometimes pausing as he thought of the words he wanted to use, “That day, when he died, I was -- angry..? I think, -- that Deku was applying to UA, too. I said something… unheroic to him. His note… he remembered what I said before...” Katsuki trailed off, frustrated and afraid. Afraid of what? Mitsuki had no clue. But she knew Katsuki wanted to be approved of by everyone.

“Baby,” she murmured, “we won’t be mad at you. You clearly regret what you said, so just apologize to Inko. She won't be mad at you, either. Promise.”

“How can you promise something you don't know, hag? How can she forgive me if I can’t fucking forgive myself? I‘m the reason he’s dead! I bullied him for years, even after I told you I stopped.” Katsuki’s sharp tone returned as he pulled away to stare Mitsuki down. His hands popped with small explosions, and he grimaced a little when he noticed, balling up his fists up to stop his quirk.

Katsuki stared at his feet, words razor sharp but quiet. “I genuinely thought Deku was a useless, quirkless loser. I believed I was better than him in every way, that he could never amount to more than a pebble on my road to greatness... And I told him that. Every day. I hurt him. I tore up his confidence. I made him feel like shit. I made him feel worthless . And now he’s fucking dead beacause he believed it, too. He’s gone and it’s my fault.”

“Katsuki,” Masaru began, “I’m sure Inko understands how you feel and is willing to forgive. She loves you like we do”

“Yeah right, old man,” Katsuki growled, clenching his fists, attempting to quell the explosions from his palms once again. “You don’t know shit.”

“Now, Katsuki--” Mitsuki began.

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki yelled, tears welling up in his eyes and panic in his chest. Larger, louder explosions crackled. “Nobody knows a damn thing! Do you seriously think Auntie Inko would just forgive me for killing Deku? Like hell she will!” 

Mitsuki frowned. Katsuki never got emotional like this. How was she supposed to deal with a panicking kid? Inko would surely know, since Izuku struggled with anxiety and panic attacks. But this was Katsuki. This was her son. Inko couldn’t help. 

Before she could attempt to call him down, Katsuki had already worked himself into a frenzy. His smirk wavered, revealing his fragility. He clutched his chest, breath ragged as he began to panic. His hands trembled, nitroglycerin-like sweat exploding. His self-confidence, in all its high and mighty glory, reared its ugly head in agony as it was crushed by the weight of everything Katsuki just said and his past actions. Katsuki’s expression practically begged for him to be forgiven or punished. 

How had Mitsuki not noticed before? Her son was suffering just as much, if not more, as she and Masaru were. He just hid it well. But he had reached his breaking point. All the regret, self-hatred, and responsibility violently bubbled over.

“Katsuki,” Masaru tried, taking a step toward him. Katsuki took a huge step back, shaking his head vigorously.

“It’s my fault. Apologies are useless,”  Katsuki muttered, voice tight with the strain of too little air in his burning lungs.

“It’s not,” Mitsuki admonished. “I know Inko will forgive you. And Izuku would want you two to get along.”

Katsuki laughed, heartily and fully, as if she had just told the funniest joke in the world. Swiping the tears from his eyes, he said. “Sure, sure.”

“ I’m so sorry, Auntie Inko.” he said sarcastically, “I told Deku to take a swan dive off the roof and hope for a quirk in his next life. Please forgive me for causing your son’s suicide! ”

A glass shattered as it hit the floor. Katsuki whipped around to see Inko staring at him, eyes wide and unbelieving, glass scattered around her feet. Before anyone could stop her, Inko fled the Bakugou house, not even stopping to grab her shoes.

Mitsuki turned to confront Katsuki, but he was no longer there, having retreated to his room. She wanted to cry. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Chapter Text

Katsuki couldn’t believe he said that. And Auntie Inko heard him. There was no way to recover from this. He lied about bullying Deku for years. So did Deku, and the teachers, too. They lied because he was the best candidate to be a hero from Aldera Junior High. If they hadn’t, his violent behavior would stain his record and ruin his chances of becoming a hero. And Katuski thought it was fine. All this time he thought it was fine. Nothing he did was that bad. None of his explosions had actually hurt Deku, right? Otherwise, Deku would have shown it… right?

Oh how he was wrong. Over the past few days, he learned what really resulted from his bullying from eavesdropping on the hag and Auntie Inko. He listened near the doorway as Auntie Inko described the few times Deku had asked his mother for help. He wouldn't let his mother touch him, asking only for her to bring him burn cream or bandages, or to run a cold bath for him. Other than that, Deku smiled. He talked about the latest hero fights he observed. He laughed at his mother’s funny stories. He never mentioned the bullying or the injuries.

But her reality all came crashing down. Now Auntie Inko knew the reason Deku hated so many things, like changing in front of people, swimming, tank tops, sudden movements, loud noises, and being touched. It was because he had been burned so badly at school. To top it off, her son was dead. And it was all Katsuki’s doing. Inko didn’t know it was Katsuki’s fault, though. Until now.

Katsuki sighed, flopping down on his bed. Suddenly, he remembered the news. Curious about the Commission’s consequences for that asshole, he turned on his computer. He found the live stream of the news broadcast and started watching. 

The mob in front of the Hero Public Safety Commission was still enraged, pro heroes struggling to hold them back as the Commission leaders discussed All Might’s consequences. Frankly, Katsuki would like to beat the living shit out of the guy, even if he was the Number One Pro Hero. Although, Katsuki thought, I don’t have the right to. I said the same thing to Deku, after all.

A few minutes passed with no developments, but then something interesting began to happen.

“EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE!”

The crowd immediately stilled. The camera panned over to the top of the Hero Public Safety Commission. All Might stood on the roof, smiling as if nothing was wrong. The wind whipped his hair around and his hands sat on his hips. He had the confidence of someone whose world was not currently falling apart

All Might addressed the mob with his booming voice. “Hello, everyone! I am here to answer your questions until the Hero Commission President can come out to speak with you all.”

“Excuse me, All Might!” yelled Miyagi, the female reporter who had been on the scene the entire time this had been happening. “Was that recording on the news true?”

“Unfortunately, yes, it was. However, I have already made amends with Young Midoriya-kun’s family and friends. Next question?”

Liar, Katsuki scoffed. You're just saying that to save your own skin. We didn’t even know you were involved until now. Fucking police...

“All Might, All Might,” someone from the crowd called. The camera turned to focus on a boy with disheveled purple hair and giant eye bags, who looked about Katsuki’s age. A mischievous grin appeared on his face. “Can I be a hero, too? Or should I become a villain instead, since we’ve all seen what a hero can do?” he mocked.

All Might’s hero persona never wavered, but he hesitated for a short moment. It went unnoticed by the mob. “Of course, young man. You can be a hero, too!”

“Well then,” the kid shot back, “why couldn’t Midoriya Izuku?”

This time, All Might’s hero persona wavered. His smile faltered as he struggled to keep his confident, calm attitude. “He-- That is classified, young man. I cannot give you that information unless the family permits.”

“So what you’re saying is your quirkist?” he retaliated.

“No, what I’m saying is--”

All Might suddenly went blank. His smiling face, now devoid of emotion, looked uncanny land vacant like a doll’s. The gathered crowd panicked as All Might slumped a little. That’s weird, what happened to him?

----------

Shinso smirked. He knew this wasn’t the best idea he's ever had, but it was now or never. Underground hero Eraserhead was nowhere to be seen, so that meant no one could immediately erase the effects of his brainwashing once he activated it. And the police and other heroes couldn't do anything about it either. To get him to release his quirk, they would have to physically harm Shinso, and he knew they weren't about to do that in the middle of an enraged mob.

Shinso smirked as he watched All Might go blank, falling under the effects of his quirk. But Shinso didn’t care. Quickly, he climbed on top of one of the news vans and snatched a megaphone from a protester. 

“Let’s hear the truth, All Might,” he shouted. “Did you really apologize and make amends with Midoriya Izuku’s friends and family?”

“No,” All Might replied robotically. The crowd went eerily silent.

“How did you meet Midoriya? Where did you last see him?”

“I saved him from a sludge villain. I left him on the roof of a random building after he grabbed my leg as I was leaving the scene.”

Shinso was vaguely aware of the police demanding that he release his quirk and free All Might. A few pro heroes scrambled to get to him, and some tried to contact Eraserhead. 

Shino sharply addressed the police. “Stop where you are. The only way to get me to release my quirk is to physically harm me. And I know you’re not about to do that, especially now when the subject of interest is a kid my age.” The police and heroes froze, unsure what to do now.

He turned back to All Might. “What did you tell Midoriya when he asked if he could be a hero?”

“He could not be a hero.”

“Why couldn’t Midoriya be a hero?”

The world held its breath.

“It is dangerous, and he was quirkless. The quirkless cannot do anything.”

The world exhaled all at once. Rage-filled screams filled the air, betrayal and disbelief flowing through the crowd like an electric shock. Quirks activated over the mob’s strong emotions. Even the heroes could no longer control them. 

Just then, Shinso felt his quirk disappear, and All Might’s consciousness slipped from his grasp, and the pro hero stumbled. He whirled around. Eraserhead stood next to the police near the news van Shinso was on, glaring at him.

“Kid,” Eraserhead said tiredly, “come with us. You're under arrest for illegal quirk usage and releasing classified information to the public.”

----------

Katsuki couldn’t believe it. All Might was a liar, and on top of that, quirkist. Well, not that Katsuki could say anything about that.

But what really blew Katsuki’s mind was that kid. He used his quirk on All Might of all people. Katsuki couldn’t figure out what his quirk was, although Deku might have been able to figure it out. Honestly, he admired that purple-haired kid for his bravery. Surely he must have known that he would get arrested for using his quirk unauthorized. And on a pero hero, no less.

Soon enough, Eraserhead arrived to help arrest the kid. But it was already too late. That kid made All Might reveal the entire truth, and the mob reacted with hatred, wrath, and raging quirks. 

Man, what a mess.

Chapter Text

Aizawa stood in the corner of the interrogation room. Although he had better places to be,— like calming the raging quirks still running rampant throughout the city,— the police had called him in. He was to erase the kid’s quirk if he used it, since he is now a “danger” because he managed to slip past the former Number One hero’s defenses. More dangerous than the out-of-control quirks rampaging throughout the country, apparently. Aizawa had to wonder, though, what this boy’s quirk was if the Hero Commission had him here rather than out there helping the public.

As he waited for the interrogation to begin, Aizawa busied himself with observing the kid in the chair. He couldn't move his wrists, since they were cuffed to the table, so he had settled for idly tapping his fingers on the table. His violet hair stuck up and out at weird angles, as if he hadn’t bothered to fix his beadhead. Dark eyebags held his dark purple eyes, a clear enough sign of insomnia. He sat hunched over with his legs close together, suggesting that he was rather timid. Aizawa wondered where the guts to use his quirk on a pro hero came from. Other than that, this kid was quite unremarkable. But somehow, he reminded Aizawa of his younger self.

Aizawa realized he’d been staring too long when he noticed the kid wordlessly staring back, evaluating him with a timid glare. Before he could break the awkward silence, Tsukauchi entered the interrogation room.

He smiled at the boy as he sat down. “Hello,” he started. “I am Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. My quirk, Lie Detector, allows me to confirm if you're telling the truth based on what you believe. It only works with verbal responses, so you need to answer every question out loud. I will be recording this discussion for police records, so it might be a little awkward at first, but I will have to confirm or deny your answers aloud. Let’s get started, then. What is your name and age?”

“Shinso Hitoshi, 15.”

“True. Can you tell us about your quirk?”

He hesitated a little, frowning. Aizawa could see Shinso struggling to make himself speak, debating between two unseen options. Tsukauchi just waited patiently for him to respond, making no move to prompt Shinso. 

Aizawa hesitated to speak because he hates being recorded, but after a few moments he spoke up. “Kid, it’s okay to answer. We won’t judge you for your quirk.”

It took him a bit to work up his courage to speak. “Even if it’s a villain’s quirk?”

“There’s no such thing as a villain’s quirk, kid,” Aizawa replied. “Quirks, or lack thereof, are a part of the person, not the definition.” 

Shinso was still tentative, so Aizawa continued, trying to show him there was no judgement in this room. “People called my quirk villainous back when I was your age, you know. I mean, I can erase quirks just by looking at people. They were afraid of me, so they bullied me for something I had no say in. But I trained hard and I use my quirk for good now. The ‘villainous’ quirks are best suited for underground work after all. So listen, kid, I understand that you are reluctant to tell us your quirk, especially since you’re being bullied like I was.”

Shinso stared for a moment as he absorbed Aizawa’s words, weighing his knowledge of typical adults and the truthfulness in his favorite hero’s story.“How did you know I get bullied?” he whispered, eyes wide in awe and surprise.

“I’m a licensed therapist and an underground hero. Reading people’s body language is second nature at this point. Besides, reading you was pretty easy because I used to be like you.”

Shinso stilled as his gaze traveled to his wrists cuffed to the table, thinking deeply. Finally, he mumbled, “It’s called Brainwashing. I can control people when they verbally respond to me. I can't make them do something they physically can't do, or make them say something they don't know. Also, external shock to me or them can release it.”

“Damn, kid,” Aizawa whistled, hiding a small grin in his capture weapon. “That’s a cool quirk. Do you think you can brainwash All Might for me later? I’ve got to punch him.”

Shinso grinned, the confidence that let him stand up to a pro hero returning. “Sure thing. He definitely deserves it.”

Tsukauchi sighed. “My quirk registers that as true, but Eraser! You can’t punch the Symbol of Peace! Even if he deserves it.”

“I said it before, didn't I?” Aizawa crossed his arms, glaring at Tsukauchi but face as impassive as ever. “ I’ll beat the living shit out of him. I don’t give a damn that he’s the number one hero.”  

“Still…” Tsukauchi huffed. Making a quick note, he turned to Shinso. “So, back to business. Why did you brainwash All Might?”

“Everyone was skirting around the main issue,” Shinso said nonchalantly. “Tons of kids worldwide commit suicide all the time. But Midoriya’s case is only a big issue because who was involved: Japan’s best hero and a junior high kid, supposedly with a weak quirk. All Might only had one viable option to explain himself to the public, and I had to get him to admit it himself, or else he’d drive more kids like Midoriya to their deaths with his quirkist ideas. And that shit hurts when it comes from someone you look up to. I figured All Might was quirkist even if I had no evidence, but my suspicions were confirmed after the media didn't disclose Midoriya’s quirk. Now everyone knows All Might’s an ass. He just reaped what he sowed.”

“True. You turned out to be correct in your assumption that All Might was quirkist. But Midoriya Izuku faced severe bullying because of his quirklessness, so his family didn’t want people knowing about his quirk status in fear of the public’s reaction,” Tsukauchi said with a slight frown.

Shinso bowed as best he could while still cuffed to the table in front of him. “I’m sorry for going against the family’s wishes and revealing his quirk status to the public. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, kiddo,” Aizawa said. “His mother is a very forgiving person.”

“Alright, now about your punishment,” Tsukauchi said. “You technically became a one-time vigilante by using your quirk against someone without authorization. And for directly causing thousands of citizens’ quirks to go berserk. Here’s what will happen…”

----------

The Hero Public Safety Commission wasn't happy. All Might turned out to be quirkist and directly caused the death of a quirkless young man. That didn’t look good for UA or the Commission, especially since the public’s safety was in danger. But they both needed the Symbol of Peace. Ever since he had taken up that position, All Might’s mere presence decreased crime rates, and his existence encouraged more and more students to aspire to heroism.

They had just worked out a solution and were about to present it to the public, when a kid had messed it all up. His quirk did something to All Might, who unwillingly revealed his true nature. It took a thorough investigation and two days to come to a new conclusion. UA and the Commission were forced into a corner with only one way out: demote and criticize All Might.

Ayumi sighed. Being president of the Hero Commission had its perks, sure, but it also had its downsides. She lost count of how many times she had to cover up for pro heroes and defectors. This time, however, there was no way to cover this up. All Might was falling, and no one could catch him.

Ayumi straightened her suit jacket before stepping onto the stage. Camera clicked and flashed at rapid speeds. The media reporters roared like a storm, their thousands of questions causing a constant and never-ending ruckus, like raindrops on the windows.

Someone introduced her and the others who had come to speak at the urgent press conference. “Please welcome President of the Hero Public Safety Commission, Sakamoto Ayumi, UA Principal Nezu, and the lead investigator of this incident,  Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa of the Musutafu Police Department.”

“We humbly apologize for All Might’s words and actions over the course of this tragedy,” Ayumi said with a bow. Tsukauchi and Nezu bowed as well, cameras documenting their every move.

She straightened up after a moment. “We ask that you refrain from asking questions until we have finished our statements.” She took a deep breath, careful not to let the scrutinizing eyes and lenses catch her movements. “All Might will be stripped of his hero license and is hereby banned from heroism in Japan.”

Nezu picked up after her with a solemn tone, which was unusual for the typically chipper maniac rat. “He is also banned from all teaching positions as a former hero and a civilian. This also includes other jobs that require him to handle children and teenagers. UA will do everything in its power to carry these restrictions into other countries. As principal of the world’s leading hero school, I work with heroes and educators around the world to make sure nothing like this will occur again.”

“After evaluating him and interrogating All Might at the police station,” Tsukauchi said, “we have confirmed that everything that has been released about All Might’s involvement is indeed true. For at least one month, the police department will require escorts to accompany All Might to ensure a tragedy such as this will not happen a second time.”

“As leaders of our respective organizations, we would like to formally apologize to Midoriya Izuku’s family and friends, and offer to assist in any way we can.” Ayumi, Nezu, and Tsukauchi bowed again, camera’s snapping.

“We will now be taking questions,” Ayumi stated. Almost every hand in the room went up. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Toshinori groaned and blinked at the sun-painted walls of his room. With a tired yawn, he stumbled out of bed to make himself coffee. The morning was quiet, and the birds chirped softly outside his window. The sky was a beautiful blue, not a cloud to be seen. Toshinori smiled, thankful for another beautiful, unassuming day. He returned to the task at hand, pouring himself some cereal. He went to grab the milk out of the fridge, but realized he was out. He threw on a plain-looking civilian outfit —a white shirt and baggy cargo pants — and put on his shoes before stepping out of his apartment.

On this fine morning, Toshinori was greeted by a tomato to the face. The laughter of dozens assaulted his ears, but quickly returned to throwing insults and rotten fruit his way. Toshinori pulled the tomato off his face, cautiously aware of those monitoring his every move, facial expression, and word. He gingerly shut his door, faced his back to the crowd, and hurriedly locked his door. His heart pounded in his chest as he began his walk to the store. The gathered mob followed him every step of the way, screaming and cursing.

“Fuck you, All Might!”

“Repent and die!”

“Quirkist bastard!”

“How dare you show your face!”

Toshinori suppressed the urge to yell back. Honestly, he was surprised they had managed to get this far. His civilian identity was discovered not too long after the Hero Commission had made their announcement, and since then, civilians had been hard at work trying to figure out his address. Many fans had tried to find his personal info before, since he’s the Symbol of Peace. But no one could figure it out. Until now. I guess, Toshinori thought, entering the store, people can do anything when they put their minds together.

The crowd stayed outside out of respect for the other customers and employees, but Toshinori knew the chaos would start up again as soon as he left. With a sigh, he strolled around the store, meandering as long as he could. Other customers noticed him, eyeing him with hatred and frowning in disdain, so Toshinori grabbed the milk and went over to the register. 

The employee at the register didn't try to hide his disgust, but rang him up anyway. 

“That will be ¥1000,” the employee said curtly.

Toshinori stayed silent. That wasn’t the price, and both of them knew it. This had happened to him more times than he could count since that day. But last time Toshinori had spoken up, he had been refused service. He wasn’t about to do that again, since he just wanted to get home and enjoy his breakfast.

So he just paid and hurried home, ignoring the constant protests of the mob. Toshinori finally, finally, sat down to enjoy his cereal. The voices of the crowd outside his home faded into the background as he got lost in thought.

The Hero Commission and the police assisted Toshinori when this all began. They made sure he was able to buy things from stores and go out in public with relative safety as a civilian. For a while, Toshinori still felt safe, as if none of this had ever happened. About a week after the Hero Commission revoked his hero license and he lost his standing, Toshinori visited the Bakugou household, where Midoriya Izuku’s only relative had been staying. 

----- Flashback to 10 months ago ----

A young boy answered the door. He looked to be about 15, the same age as Midoriya-kun, with wild blond hair and red eyes. He didn't recognize Toshinori at first, since he was in his civilian form so as to not draw unwanted attention.

“Who the fuck are you, old man?” the boy growled.

“A-ahem. I am Toshinori Yagi,” he said with a smile, slightly thrown off by this boy’s blatant disrespect and crassnness.

“You could be a pile of shit for all I care. Leave before I make you.” A small explosion erupted from his palm.

“Well, I’m here on official business, so I can leave just yet. I am here to speak with Midoriya Inko.”

“Like hell you are. Get lost.”

Toshinori sighed. The boy obviously didn't know who he was. “Young man, I cannot leave. I must speak to Midoriya-san.”

Just as the boy was about to speak again, a voice called in from the house. “Katsuki! Let the damn guy in. He’s the guest we’ve been waiting for, dimwit!”

Finally, a name, thought Toshinori. So he is Midoriya Izuku’s friend I heard about.

“What the fuck, old man. You’re that asshole All Might?”

If looks could kill, Toshinori would be dead on the spot. Katsuki's red eyes pierced the space between them like a knife. His gaze swept over Toshinori as if examining him for the most convenient place to stab him. He said nothing as he led him inside, refusing to meet Toshinori’s eyes in favor of staring at his abdomen where he assumed Katsuki found to be the best place to sheathe a knife. Coincidentally, it was the spot of his old wound.

Toshinori nodded, and Katsuki moved aside to let him enter the house. In the living room, Kastuki’s parents were waiting. They were silent as well, protectively standing over Midoriya Inko. Katsuki’s mother stared at him with the same ferociousness as her son, while his father looked on with concern.

Toshinori had been briefed by the police on who he would be meeting today and a little about their backgrounds. Inko was nothing like that joyful and upbeat lady Toshinori had seen in her photograph. Her back was arched in exhaustion. Sorrow hung in the air like Axe Body Spray in a boys’ locker room. Her unkempt green hair fell into her eyes, shielding her expression from her visitor.

Toshinori immediately fell to the ground, pressing his forehead to the floor. “Midoriya Inko-san,” he had said, “I am very sorry about the loss of your son. My actions as a hero contradicted my words to him, and drove the young man to his death. I apologize from the bottom of my heart.”

He was met with silence. Katsuki glowered like he was ready to explode, but his mother quieted him with a hand on his shoulder. A deafening silence ensued. After a long moment, Inko spoke in an even voice, just barely above a whisper, and the pen dropped in the silence.

“...Is that all?”

Confused, Toshinori looked up. “Ma’am?” 

Inko rose. She sauntered over slowly, quiet footsteps pat pat pat on the wooden floor. She towered over him, despite her shorter stature. She did not yell. She did not walk loudly. She did not use violence. She did not cry. Instead, laced with an emotion Toshinori couldn't recognize, she said, “If you have truly come to repent for his death, rot in Tartarus. You belong with all the others.” 

Toshinori froze, alarms sounding in his head. No one had ever talked to him like that. Her pure hatred was something the Number One hero had only dealt once, and that was from All For One. Worst of all, according to Inko, he belonged in Tartarus, “with all the others.” With all the other villains. 

Toshinori stood up, drawing himself to his full height and speaking with the authority of his hero status. “Midoriya-san, that is excessive. I am a hero, not a villain.”

As if sensing an imminent fight, Katsuki’s mother launched herself forward, positioning herself between Toshinori and Inko. Despite being two feet shorter, Mitsuki glared down her nose at the man, ready to tear him apart at a moment’s notice. “You killed Izuku whether you realize it or not,” she snarled. “You're no better than those fuckers in Tartarus, even if you were still a pro hero. They will never change, and neither will you.”

Toshinori scoffed. “I beg to differ, Bakugou-san. I-”

“No. Shut the hell up and listen before you kill someone else,” she interrupted, red eyes burning holes into Toshinori’s skin. “Villains are violent and refuse to change their ways, which is why they get locked up. You haven’t changed, nor have you made any promises to change. And you killed an innocent boy. See the similarities, dipshit? Yeah, thought not. I will report a villain breakin to the police if you’re not out of here in the next 15 seconds.” 

Realizing he wouldn’t win against this stubborn family, Toshinori left without another word. He had lost the battle, but not the war. Nothing anyone said could make Toshinori believe he was in the wrong like a villian.

As he exited, he saw Aizawa approaching with a purple-haired kid by his side.

“Ah, Aizawa-kun. Good to see you,” Toshinori called.

“All Might,” Aizawa replied with a quick nod. “How did your meeting with Midoriya-san and the Bakugous go?”

“Well, it could have been worse. The better question is, who is this with you?”

The boy stepped out from behind Aizawa, where he had been quietly hiding since the interaction began. “Shinso Hitoshi.”

Toshinori could have sworn he had heard that voice before. But there were so many instances they could have spoken before. Had Toshinori saved him from a villain incident, and recognized his voice when the boy had thanked him?

Bringing himself back to the present, Toshinori crouched a little to look the boy in his tired eyes. “Might I ask why you are with Aizawa?”

“Why do you care?”

Toshinori fought the urge to groan. What was with all the sassy kids today? Instead, he said, “That’s not very poli-”

Shinso smirked. Toshinori’s body froze as something took control. Suddenly, Toshinori remembered where he had heard Shinso's voice before: that day at the Hero Commission. 

“Okay, Eraserhead,” Shinso said, turning to Aizawa. “He’s under my control. Make sure you hit him hard enough the first time to knock him out. If you don’t, I’m not sure how we’re gonna run away from him.”

Damn you, Aizawa, Toshinori cursed, trying to fight off Shinso’s control. He attempted to think loud, aggressive, and generally disruptive thoughts. He mentally pictured himself fighting off a villain. It must have worked at least a little, because Shinso’s nose scrunched up in concentration. 

“He’s starting to fight. Better make this quick,” Shinso warned.

“Sure thing, kid.” A grin as big and joyful as the sun spread across Aizawa’s usually impassive face as he sauntered over to the former Number One hero, slipping on some brass knuckles. 

Aizawa drew his right fist back, winding up like he was going to punch one of those strength-measuring games at an arcade. His right foot stomped the ground. His body twisted, adding painful momentum to the upcoming punch. The tension in his form released like a taut rubber band set free. Toshinori could do nothing as Aizawa’s fist connected. Sharp pain erupted from his left eye, warm wet bood immediately dripping from underneath it. Toshinori crumpled, forcibly released from Shinso’s brainwashing. He cradled his eye, desperately trying not to whimper. 

Aizawa frowned. “Fuck, I didn’t knock him out.” 

“That’s okay,” Shinso said, eyeing Toshinori smugly. “You hit him pretty good. I don’t think he has the energy to chase us down now.”

Aizawa studied Toshinori in his civilian form, skinny, fragile, and very unheroic. He burst out laughing, a triumphant smirk painted on his face. 

Toshinori scowled up at Aizawa as best he could, about to retaliate when Aizawa cut him off with a stare. A stern iciness returned to his eyes as he addressed Toshinori. “Don’t give me that pathetic look. You had it coming. And much worse if I had it my way. I wish I’d broken a bone,” he mused, the afterthought appearing to be just as funny as the action beforehand.

Toshinori growled in frustration and pain. His eye throbbed. He could feel the area around his eye bruising and swelling. Blood ran down his cheek and neck, staining his shirt.

A light flashed with a snap, and Toshinori swerved to look at the source. Shinso had his phone out, pointed at the Symbol of Peace. 

“Damn pathetic, dude.” he snickered, showing the photo to Aizawa, who smiled.  

“Oh oh, I have the perfect caption,” Shinso said, turning away. ‘Ass Might decked by Eraserhead.’”

“No way, kid,” Aizawa admonished, ruffling Shinso’s hair. “I don’t want the publicity.”

They walked away, giddy with laughter and satisfaction. And the Number One hero in Japan was left in the dust with a wounded eye and ego.

----- End of Flashback -----

Toshinori recoiled at the memory. His eye throbbed in phantom pain. It had taken a whole month for his eye to heal. Since that day, people pretended he didn't exist everywhere he went. The police and Hero Commission forgot about him, too. Every time he was ignored, he cursed the two insomniacs, vexed by their attitudes. What had he done to deserve such brutality? Why did they laugh like his suffering was the best joke of the century? Why had his life become a living hell?

Toshinori pondered these questions as he washed his breakfast dishes. Aizawa punched him solely because of that boy. What was his name again? Well, it didn't really matter to Toshinori. What did matter, however, was the results of that boy. He lost his status as the Symbol of Peace, now dubbed the Symbol of Prejudice. The once mighty Number One hero of Japan, All Might, reduced to Ass Might. Articles upon articles online bashed himHis money had been all but spent in the legal proceedings. The boy’s mother -- oh right, his surname was Midoriya -- sued him for causing emotional distress, not providing medical care to the victim of a villian attack, advising suicide, and second degree involuntary murder. He managed to pay off some of these accusations and avoid going to jail. But that only served to worsen his dwindling good standing in the public eye.

Toshinori wished he had never met Midoriya Izuku. His reputation was tarnished, his name was stained, and his life was ruined. And it was all that selfish brat’s fault.

Chapter Text

Pro Hero Endeavor became the Number One Hero like he had always dreamed. Through his hard work and dedication, he surpassed All Might…. As if. He wished that was the case. All Might had been shoved off his pedestal and plummeted down to hell in only a day. A day 10 months ago, when Enji achieved his dream by default. A very unsatisfying victory. 

Enji patrolled the city alone. It was a cloudless day, which left the turquoise blue sky unobscured. A light breeze snaked through the skyscrapers, ruffling coats and tussling hair as people went about their business. Passerbys called to him and showered him with praise for his bravery and heroism. Enji waved back in acknowledgment, but his mind wandered to the past.

When he had first inherited the title of Number One Hero, Enji was furiously bitter. With no other outlet for his emotions, he took it out on Shouto. Training became more gruelling and intense. Enji tried to force his masterpiece to use his fire through different means, his favorite being manipulation by beating those failures. Shouto was so close to giving in when Natauo trembled at his fingertips. Tears nipped at Shouto’s eyes when Fuyumi cried and begged her father to stop, sounding so much like Rei when she was still sane. Rage and fear paralyzed Shouto when Enji threatened to give them all matching scars. But no matter what he did, Enji couldn’t get Shouto to cave. He couldn’t get Shouto to obey.

Enji’s actions had consequences he had not intended, yet didn’t oppose. Fuyumi flinched whenever he was nearby. She became more docile and cooperative, never letting her opinions be known like before. She was meek, just like Rei should have been. Natsuo fled to his room every time he saw him. He never brought up the past or Touya like he used to, in favor of locking himself away. However, Shouto had grown stronger in his adamance. Instead of using his fire to appease Enji and stop his siblings’ suffering, Shouto refused to come to training. Enji had to drag Shouto to the training room, fighting like a wild animal the entire way. Sometimes, he’d give extra beatings or threaten to beat his eldest children to get his son to semi-cooperate. 

Every now and again, Enji’s thoughts wandered when creating training strategies for Shouto. He often found himself wondering what he would have done if he was in All Might's position that fateful day in September. He definitely would tell the quirkless kid the same thing as All Might, that he couldn’t be a hero. However, there would be two major differences. 

The first: Enji would tell that kid he was useless to his face. He already knew he couldn’t be a hero yet pathetically held on to an impractical dream. He could never be more than a quirkless burden. So why even pretend he could be equal to those with quirks? Why pretend he could do anything he set his mind to, despite being less than humans? That kid didn’t have a quirk, akin to the common animal in smarts and usefulness.

Secondly, Enji wouldn't simply walk away. Unlike All Might, he knew that his words and actions had an impact, evidenced in his family life. If that kid placed enough hope in heroes to determine his life or death, then he would definitely uphold a promise to secrecy from a pro hero. Enji would have made that kid swear never to reveal he was involved. They never met. And the kid would not be allowed to act, in any way, on the promise. That would include suicide. If he died in the crossfire of a villain attack just minutes later? Oh well, an unfortunate accident. But not anything related to Enji or suicide baiting.

A scream pulled Enji from his thoughts. Blazing through the winding alleys with the power of his quirk, Enji arrived at the source. A man with brown hair and a common face held a bloody knife, looming over the victim. His tiger-quirked accomplice pulled the victim up by their red hair. Enji didn't slow down and promptly knocked out the perpetrators. With a suppressed sigh, he began tying up the two criminals. 

“Th-thank you, Endeavor-san,” said a tiny voice behind him. He turned to see the speaker. It was the victim, standing on unsteady feet. A young boy — maybe about Shouto’s age — had black hair that hung down in his face. He smiled at his savior, red eyes crinkling and shark-like teeth shining. Sweat dripped down his face; his body shook. Clearly in pain, the boy clutched his stomach in an attempt to hide his bleeding wound.

Enji nodded in acknowledgement as he hastily finished securing the villains. “Sit down,” he said, pulling out his phone to call the paramedics. “You are injured.”

“Oh. So I am, haha.” He tried to laugh it off, grimacing as pain shot through his body. He slid down the alley wall to sit on the ground, breathing heavily. His eyes began to droop, the blood loss taking its toll.

“Do not go to sleep,” Enji warned. He couldn’t let this kid die on his watch. That would ruin his reputation. 

Mentally, Enji cursed his inability to carry first aid materials with him due to his fire quirk. Looking around, he saw the boy’s discarded school blazer on the ground nearby. Although it was dirty and had a few tears in it, it would have to do. Enji fetched the jacket and began to tie it around the boy’s wound as best he could. 

In an attempt to keep him awake, Enji asked, “Who are you?”

“Kirishima Eijiro,” answered the boy in a small voice. “I go to Mustafa Private Middle School.”

“Mm,” Enji replied. “What is your quirk?”

“I call it Hardening. I can harden and sharpen any part of my body.”

What a useless quirk, thought Enji. He didn't say it though, not wanting unspilled blood staining his status. The wails of sirens in the distance were closing in.

“Do you want to be a hero?” Enji continued, his efforts rather weak and uncaring.

“Yeah…” Kirishima trailed off, beginning to relax, as if the concrete were a luxurious feather bed. “Sorry, Endeavor-san,” he mumbled. “As much as I’d love to keep this chat going, I’m just too tired.”

“Kirishima-kun, stay awake. Help is on the way.” Enji slightly jostled Kirishima. For the first time, he really saw how fragile this boy was. His skin was sickly and clammy, a little too cold for comfort under Enji’s hand. His red eyes were glazed over, unseeing and unfocused. If Enji wasn’t careful in these last few moments, this frail child would die on his watch and tear down his carefully crafted reputation of heroic fame and glory.

The ambulance arrived, the police not even a minute behind. Enji backed away towards the police cars, allowing room for the paramedics. They clamored about, loaded Kirishima onto a stretcher, and sped to the hospital. Meanwhile, the police shoved the unconscious criminals into the back of their cars. One officer collected a statement from Enji. Soon, they were on their way back to the station.

And Enji went back to patrolling, already forgetting about the injured boy. Incidents like that happen all the time, after all. It was a part of the routine for pro heroes. Patrol, stop a crime, call emergency services, and patrol again. No need to be involved more than necessary, no need to remember what happened. The media and witnesses will do that. Just another day in the life of Number One Pro Hero Endeavor.

Chapter Text

Months passed, and many things changed for the Bakugous. After All Might showed the world he was an ass, Katsuki refused to go back to school, spouting nonsense about his “shit” teachers. Mitsutu and Masaru were confused by their son’s absolute refusal to go back to Aldera Junior High. When they inquired for more details, he struggled to put his experiences and opinions into words. All he said was “They’re all shit. They were shit to Izuku and the other weaklings.” 

Somewhat satisfied with his answer, Mitsuki and Masaru allowed Katsuki to leave Aldera and homeschool for his last year of junior high. Not long after, the detective responsible for All Might’s downfall and investigation brought down Aldera Junior High with terrifying allegations: teachers manipulated students’ grades, ignored bullying, and the harassing of students with weak or “villainous” quirks. The pro hero who was involved in Izuku’s case — and Katsuki’s new favorite, Eraserhead, — gathered evidence, and he and the detective successfully shut down Aldera.

Oh, another thing while on the topic of school. Katsuki had entirely stopped calling Izuku by his childhood nickname around the time he began to protest going back to Aldera. He refused to explain to his parents why, which just made Mitsuki more curious. She also noticed that Katsuki hung out with his friends from Aldera less because they had bullied Izuku at Katsuki’s urging. But that didn’t mean Katsuki had no one to hang out with anymore. 

In fact, after no small amount of investigating online, he befriended that kid from the news, Shinso Hitoshi. Their sassy attitudes clashed often but in a good way, manifesting as childish banter. Somehow, their personalities couldn’t be any different. Katsuki’s insecurities were masked by his crass attitude and brash words, while Shinso hid his insecurities with snarky words and a timid attitude. They were an interesting duo, to say the least. But Mitsuki was glad her son had someone his age to confide in.

Katsuki was not the only one to change since Japan’s trust faltered. Inko made significant progress, too. Inko was much better now. Well, as “better” as someone who lost their only son could be. She learned healthy coping mechanisms and stayed in contact with the Bakugous. She was able to go home without crying until she passed out. Best of all, she could talk to Katsuki without breaking down now, even though she hadn’t quite forgiven him yet. Nevertheless, Mitsuki was grateful for Inko’s slow yet steady progress and thankful for her therapist Inui Ryo.

That’s one down, and one to go, thought Mitsuki. She glanced at the passenger seat to see Katsuki just staring out the window. He was unusually silent, displeased by being dragged out of the house. But it had to be done.

Katsuki refused to go to therapy for a while, saying he was fine like always, but that argument crumbled. He no longer had the confidence he used to have, this arrogant attitude frequently faltering. He may have never said a word about how he felt, but Mitsuki knew. It pained her to see her son hate his current self and his past self. She and Masaru hesitated to approach him about the topic, since he was a lot moodier and angry than before. But having Shinso around helped Katsuki come to a decision.

Three weeks ago, Inko had tried to talk to him for the first time in months after she overheard Katsuki admit to suicide baiting Izuku. She didn't get far before getting so upset she had to leave the room. A few days later, Katsuki approached his parents. He admitted that therapy would be a good idea, but after that, he never wanted to go visit therapists. It took almost two entire weeks and a hesitant yet serious lecture from Shinso to get Katsuki off his ass. Just yesterday, Mitsuki had given Katsuki two options: either go with her and Masaru to pick a therapist, or he could stay home and let them pick for him. That did the job.

They had visited three today, but hadn't decided on who yet. Fukukado Emi threw Katsuki off by her nonchalant attitude and tendency to use humor to smooth things over. Inui Ryo would be a good choice, since he would already be informed about the situation. But Katsuki didn’t seem to like that idea. 

Mitsuki didn’t really know what to think of the last therapist they visited. He introduced himself as Aizawa Shouta, whose quirk allowed him to cancel out other quirks. He looked unkempt and homeless, and he had a sleeping bag haphazardly stuffed behind his desk. He seemed like he wouldn’t actually listen, but he was surprisingly attentive. Aizawa clung to every word when she, Masaru, or Katsuki spoke to him, and in return asked insightful questions no one had thought about before.

When Katsuki mentioned his goal to be a hero, Aizawa didn’t frown or disapprove. The other two therapists had, remarking that his attitude wasn't very heroic, and that anger management and behavior correction counseling would look bad on his hero records. But Aizawa didn’t. Instead, he supported Katsuki’s dream. He didn’t think counseling would look bad on Katsuki’s record. In fact, he said it would look good because Katsuki caught his mistakes early on and took the initiative to correct his wrongdoings.

His words reassured the Bakugous. Mitsuki was especially glad that Aizawa could use his erasure quirk to help Katsuki control his explosions if he got out of control, too. 

Even though he kept quiet, Katsuki definitely took a liking to Aizawa Shouta. So Mitsuki and Masaru booked the earliest appointment with him. Today, Mitsuki got to drop her son off for his first session. 

She tried to get Katsuki to talk with her on the car ride there, but he only gave one-word answers. Soon enough, she gave up. They rode in silence except for the quiet murmur of the radio. The latest big thing on the news was Endeavor’s latest act of heroism: saving a middle school boy from murderers. Stuff like that happened all the time unfortunately, but the media was still hyper-focused on middle school students’ interactions with heroes, even if it had been months. 

Mitsuki refocused on the present. Katsuki’s unusual silence worried her a little, but he had become quieter in the last few months. Soon enough, they arrived at the office.

“We’re here,” Mitsuki said as Katsuki hopped out of the car. “Call me when you’re finished. It should be about an hour, right? I’ll be at that cafe around the corner if you need me.”

“Sure, Mom,” Katsuki mumbled. He must have seen the worry hidden in her eyes because he tried his best to console her. Smiling just a little, he said softly, “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Mitsuki forced herself to exhale and forced a grin. Katsuki nodded sharply and headed inside. She let her smile drop, driving towards the cafe.

Eventually, her son would be happy with himself again. Eventually, everything would be okay, even if it takes years or if it leaves scars. But in the end, no one regretted knowing Midoriya Izuku, in life or in death.

----------

Of course, the story doesn’t end here. Healing takes time, and it is never complete. Although a life was lost, new relationships are formed as they all strive to understand a fraction of the beautiful life that was Midoriya Izuku. 

Inko, the Bakugous, Aizawa, and Shinso will never be the same. Their lives continue on with Izuku close to their hearts as they endeavor to be the kind of people Izuku would approve of: worthy heroes entrusted with the future, compassionate to all despite their quirks, and kind to those who may not deserve it.

----- Izuku’s Suicide Note -----

Midoriya Izuku

Age 15

Quirk: Quirkless

He always dreamed of being a hero, but it was always impossible. Sometime in the afternoon of September the XX of the year 20XX, he took a swan dive off a roof, hoping for a quirk in his next life.

As I fall, I will hold onto this with all my strength, so that the police can identify me. When that happens, I’m sure they’ll interview everyone I know about why I did this. I’m sure no one will have the right answer. And none of this was any of their faults, I promise. When you go to everyone to deliver the news, could you show these notes to the people they are addressed to? I have a few last words I would like them to read.

Mom, none of this is your fault, not even the fact that I was born quirkless. Even if it takes a million lifetimes, I want to be your son again when I’m reborn. You’re the best mom I could ever wish for. Please don’t cry for me, and don’t mourn my loss. I’ll come back for you, I promise. I’m sorry I never told you what was really going on. I just didn't want you to worry. Thank you for taking care of me for so long. I’m sure it wasn't easy to care for a quirkless kid like me. I love you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son for you.

Kacchan, I couldn’t become a hero. But hopefully, I will be in the next life. Thank you for being my friend.

Auntie Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru, thank you for being Kacchan’s parents. He will surely get into UA. He has a strong quirk and an even stronger personality. If he lays off the swearing a bit, I’m sure he’ll be the best hero the world has seen.

All Might, thank you for being my reason to continue dreaming. I will always be grateful for the knowledge and joy you have given me. Because of your thoughtfulness for my safety, I will take your career advice.

(Tears stained the area near the last paragraph, smudging the ink a bit. The handwriting became progressively neater as the writer neared the end of his life.)

…I wish I could have gone to UA. I wish I could have gotten more autographs, especially from the underground heroes. There were never many videos of them, so I never got to add them to my notebooks. But that’s okay. I guess I can do all that in my next life. 

Until next time,

Midoriya Izuku