Chapter Text
Izuku didn't start out wanting to be a vigilante.
He loved Heroes, with all his heart, and wanted to be one growing up. Even when he was diagnosed as Quirkless, he still didn't give up on his dream. You didn't need a quirk to help someone with their groceries, get cats out of trees, or help keep the community clean. And so, even as he was constantly ridiculed by his classmates and teachers, he still continued to dream, working his way there, one analysis at a time.
Until the hostage situation. The hostage situation was the start of everything.
0o0-0o0-0o0
Aldera had signed off on a field trip for Izuku's class to go to a new conservatory in Musutafu to see the displays of non-native plants. It was an interesting enough field trip, in Izuku’s opinion and, more importantly, got him away from his bullies, both teachers and students. This was because, so long as the students stayed inside the conservatory and returned to the meeting spot by 3:30 pm, they didn't need a chaperone to look around. It helped, of course, that this new conservatory was not only affiliated with U.A., but was also nearby U.A. as well, as the school always had a few students who had great quirks for gardening and botany. Izuku could see students in U.A. uniforms tending to the plants as they were dismissed to do their field trip assessment (drawing and labeling images of non-native flora and fauna).
And so, Izuku spent most of the day hiding in the trees, appreciating the peaceful atmosphere of the conservatory as he drew, able to stay far away from his bullies. Izuku even had a few U.A. students come talk to him, and Izuku was more than thrilled to talk with them, and even more delighted when they allowed him to ask all of his questions, more amused than anything at his nerdy love of quirk analysis. It was, by far, one of the best days he'd had at school in years.
When Yurui-sensei, their science teacher and head of the field trip, made the announcement for all Aldera students to return to the main entrance, Izuku sadly made his goodbyes to the kind U.A. students. He packed up his notes and sketchbook before flipping off the branch and lightly touching down. Izuku grinned a little at the "holy shit, kid" from one student and the unintentionally slipped "what the fuck " from the other student, smiling cheerfully and giving a little wave as he made his way back to the front of the conservatory.
Izuku was standing at the back, slightly apart from the rest of his class; it wasn't enough for him to be singled out as causing trouble, but it was far enough away that he wouldn't have to deal with his classmates leering at him and mocking him. In hindsight, Izuku would rather have put up with his classmates than what happened.
Izuku heard a shik from behind him, and that was all the warning he got before his backpack was ripped from him and he was violently hoisted against the chest of someone a lot taller than him, if Izuku’s dangling feet were any indication. The man, Izuku assumed, because of the hard chest he was thrust against, was covered in some sort of hard plastic and made Izuku's back ache from the impact. The man's brutal grip left Izuku wheezing, but it was the cold metal pressed against his forehead that really took Izuku's breath away.
"Nobody move or the kid gets it!" The man bellowed, and Izuku heard the shocked cries and gasps of the other conservatory visitors. Even his class was startled at the situation, though Izuku thought that was more due to the surprise at the suddenness of the situation instead of actually being afraid for Izuku's life. Still, Izuku made sure to not really move; volatile criminal or not, being shot would absolutely ruin any plans he had for the future.
"Now," the man said, and Izuku winced as the man squeezed him tighter, "if you don't want to see this kid's brain smeared on the ground, you better get the police here quick."
The muttering of the crowd began, and Izuku saw someone in uniform, probably one of the conservatory workers, lift what looked to be a walkie talkie to his face, and started talking rapidly, his face pale as he constantly shifted his eyes from Izuku, around the conservatory, and back to Izuku again. He supposed it made sense; most people would've been worried to see any kid in such a situation.
It didn't take long for the whirring of sirens to announce the presence of the police. Izuku was glad, as being held hostage against whoever this man was had left Izuku squashed and starting to lose feeling in his arms. That, and the bruise Kacchan had made when kicking his chest earlier that morning was being rubbed against, and that hurt . Glancing around, Izuku saw that most of his classmates were whispering to each other, quietly making fun of Izuku's situation; while to many it looked like they were whispering in concern and shock, Izuku knew better. The malice hidden in the corners of their faces and the cruel amusement lining their smiles was clear to anyone who knew his classmates well enough. And Izuku knew his classmates very, very well. Most of them, that is. Izuku's roaming gaze met intense red ones, and Izuku blinked.
‘Kacchan?’ Izuku wondered. He looked around to see if his classmates were talking to Kacchan, saying something that would make him focus on Izuku. And Kacchan did have someone talking to him; Tsubasa was talking to him, trying to get his opinion on something. But it appeared he was being ignored, as Izuku's main bully kept on staring at him.
'Yes, because staring at me is absolutely going to make him let me go.' Izuku thought, tilting his head to the left before he remembered that he was being held at gunpoint, and that moving away from the gun might be a bad idea.
It definitely was a bad move, as the man—criminal at this point, at the least, as he hadn't used his quirk yet—squeezed Izuku further, ramming the barrel against Izuku’s temple. Izuku sighed, because that was definitely going to bruise, and his mom was no doubt already going to be freaking out when she heard he'd been held hostage.
"Don't move, brat!" The man yelled, and Izuku couldn’t help it, he really couldn't.
"What are you gonna do, shoot me?" Izuku quipped sassily, and the crowd went quiet.
"W-well, obviously," the man replied, clearly thrown by Izuku’s attitude. Izuku rolled his eyes.
"Ahh, yes, that'll turn out well for you, shooting your only hostage." Izuku snarked, and Izuku could feel the man twitch, though whether it was in anger or in uncertainty, Izuku wasn't too sure. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the police slowly surrounding him and his hostage-taker, and decided to keep the man talking.
"You're awfully mouthy for a brat in your position," the man said, and Izuku snorted. This set the man off more. Wonderful.
"Haaah?!" The man yelled, squeezing and shaking Izuku violently, and wasn't that a familiar routine for Izuku. "You think I won't do anything to you? You think you're going to leave here unharmed?"
"Like I haven't heard that before," Izuku sniped, and Izuku didn't show the sliver of satisfaction he had at seeing Kacchan flinch at his words. Good.
"You think you're so tough, huh?" The man snarled, and Izuku rolled his eyes.
"I don't need to be tough to not be scared, you're not exactly frightening," Izuku said. "My bullies at school are scarier than you." And wasn't that the truth. It was hard to be scared of a gun when you had live bombs shoved in your face every day.
Murmurs came from the crowd at that, and even the man holding Izuku hostage wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that.
"...you good, kid?" The man asked, and Izuku balked a little. What, the man was worried now , disregarding the fact that he had a gun to Izuku's head? What kind of bullshit was that? Izuku was about to rip into his hostage-taker, but fortunately for the man, someone did so before Izuku could destroy the man. Or more specifically, a gun did.
Izuku felt the impact of the bullet into the hostage-taker's right foot before he even heard the pistol shoot. He didn't have time to process where the bullet had come from before he was suddenly jerked away from the man and into a fairly sturdy chest. Izuku tensed—did the man end up having an accomplice after all?—and the arms around him tightened, though not harshly.
"Don't worry kid," a gruff voice said, and Izuku looked up to see red eyes and floating hair. Eraserhead?! "I've got you." And Izuku felt his shoulders droop at the sureness in the man's voice, allowing his body to relax. The steady thump-thump, thump-thump he heard from the crouched Hero's chest echoed softly into his left ear, relaxing him further. Izuku paused, eyes furrowing at the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. Was this what it felt like to be safe?
The arms tightened around Izuku, and he looked back up to see red eyes narrowed in concern. Oh, had he said that out loud?
"Yeah, you did, kid," Eraserhead said. Izuku's eyes widened. Oops?
That clearly wasn't the right answer, Izuku knew, but before the Underground Pro could further question him about it, someone walked up to them.
"Ya alright there, kiddo?"
Izuku's head whipped to the right, his eyes wide. Eraserhead easily stood from his crouch, and Izuku saw out of the corner of his eye that his captor was being led away in quirk-suppressing cuffs. But that wasn't important at the moment.
"Eraserhead and Snipe came?" Izuku whispered, desperately trying to contain his Hero fanboy tendencies. Snipe cocked a hip, placing a hand over one of his pistols, the man's body language showing he was relaxed and, curiously enough, amused.
"Looks like ya got a fan there Eraser," Snipe teased, the grin evident in his voice, and Eraserhead scoffed, turning his gaze towards Izuku.
"How'd you know about me, kid? I don't exactly make myself identifiable." Eraserhead asked, and Izuku looked away. Wasn't that right? Izuku had done thorough research, having even hacked into restricted forums to get more information on one of his favorite Heroes. Of course, he couldn't exactly admit that he was hacking private servers.
"Lots of research," Izuku decided would be his answer, and he did his best to ignore the burning gaze blazing into the top of his curls. Snipe snorted, and Izuku looked back up to him, also deciding that a change in topic was a good idea.
"So, why were you here?" Izuku asked, backtracking at how rude that sounded. "N-not that I'm not grateful, because I am! Very grateful, that is." Izuku curled into himself, blushing in mortification. Curse his inopportune stuttering, the last thing he needed was for these pros to be bothered by him. Izuku amended his thoughts almost immediately, however, seeing how Snipe ruffled his curls with a warm, kind hand, and Izuku couldn’t help but relax again. He was beginning to sense a pattern here.
"Well, kiddo," Snipe started, very amused, "we ended up coming here when one of my third years called me in a panic, saying that 'a green gremlin baby was being held hostage at gunpoint.' Nedzu decided it would be best if some of us came down, and sent Eraser and I down."
Izuku did not pout at his designation by the U.A. students he talked to earlier, he didn’t. It wasn't his fault that his mom was short, and that he inherited the short end of the stick when it came to height. Izuku felt Eraserhead snort in laughter and he pouted frowned even more.
"I'll say, though," Snipe continued, "you certainly earned the title of gremlin, ya got a right mouth on ya."
"That was pretty dangerous, kid," Eraserhead said, and Izuku avoided eye contact with either pro. He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at the pain he felt coming from his sternum. That bruise had seen some action today, and it throbbed in time with his heartbeat. ‘I might have to bandage that later.’ He thought, before deciding to answer the two pros.
"Well I wasn't feeling particularly kind at the moment," Izuku muttered, tightening his arms and wincing at the pain. "My chest was hurting a lot, and I was beginning to lose feeling in my arms."
"You're hurt?" Eraserhead's voice was sharp, and Izuku flinched. The Underground Pro must have noticed it, because his body language calmed down, loosening to be less threatening.
"Why didn't ya tell us, kiddo?" Snipe asked, not unkindly, and Izuku shrugged.
"It doesn't really matter," Izuku said, missing the shared look between the two pros. Eraserhead huffed before gently readjusting Izuku in his arms so that Izuku was more supported. This caused Izuku's head to slip into the junction between Eraserhead's head and shoulder, right against the man's neck. Izuku did not like how secure he felt in the Underground Pro’s arms.
"Why don't ya take a nap kiddo?" Snipe suggested, giving him a once-over, evident from the tilt of the Hero's head. "We're gonna head down to the station where you can give your statement to the Detective. We'll get Recovery Girl to swing by, heal any pains ya still got. Sound good?"
Izuku, who had tensed and began trying to sit up (he always had to keep an eye out for his bullies, he never knew when they were going to try sneaking up on him, after all), paused at the mention of the Youthful Heroine.
"Recovery Girl?" He asked, his mind whirring. Recovery Girl's quirk was Heal, which sped up the healing process of any patient she kissed. However, by doing so, it took the patient's own energy to fuel the healing, causing fatigue that correlated to how much healing the patient needed. Izuku was, admittedly, feeling a little tired after this inconvenient hostage situation, and if Recovery Girl was gonna heal him, he'd need as much energy as possible so that he could be aware enough to give his statement to the police.
A snort broke Izuku's thoughts and he blinked, looking up to see an amused tilt to Eraserhead's eyes. Snipe wasn't as quiet, chuckling openly, though not unkindly, at Izuku.
"Ya sure got a good head on ya, kiddo," Snipe praised, and Izuku's face flushed as he ducked his head. It looks like both pros had heard his creepy muttering again. A hand on his head made Izuku look up, and he saw Snipe looking at him (or at least his mask was looking at him).
"It ain't creepy, kid," Snipe said. "It's pretty damn impressive if ya ask me."
"Don't swear in front of the kid," Eraserhead snapped quietly, and Snipe responded with a "yeah, yeah" that made Izuku giggle, before making him yawn. Huh, maybe he was more tired than he thought. Eraserhead must have noticed this, as he began to slowly walk, and the gentle rocking motion made Izuku settle against the Hero's neck again.
"Get some rest, kid," Eraserhead said, holding him firmly. "I've got you." And, surprisingly, Izuku believed him. It had been sudden, but the Underground Pro's actions had shown that Izuku could give the man a modicum of trust. At the very least, if something did happen, there were witnesses around to back him up if needed.
So Izuku nodded, tucking his head a little more into the Hero's neck to make himself a little more comfortable, finding the Erasure Hero's binding scarf lifted so that it encompassed Izuku's head like a warm blanket. With the added cushioning, Izuku squirmed a little more before sighing, content. He was just about to surrender to sleep when he heard the two Heroes have an interesting line of conversation.
"Man," Snipe said, "I'm sure not lookin' forward to this paperwork."
"You did shoot him," Eraserhead pointed out, and Izuku heard Snipe sigh.
"And I don't regret that, the varmint deserved it." Snipe said firmly. "But I am not lookin' forward to the paperwork. One for the Office, one for the Detective, and then another for Nedzu, 'cause he’s the one who sent us out."
Izuku heard the grimace in Eraserhead's voice.
"Three copies? That's illogical."
And as the two men continued to talk, Izuku couldn't help but wonder as he fell asleep: what was wrong with doing paperwork?