Chapter Text
The night was quiet and peaceful. So far. Clouds filled the sky, so neither moon nor stars were visible, but the city’s lights made sure one could walk around without losing their way. Except in this part of city. Garbage-filled backstreets, dirty sidewalks, cracked roads... Part of the city usually neglected by pro heroes. At least, publically known pro heroes.
As an underground hero, this was perfect territory for Eraserhead. And it was his job to ensure that night remained peaceful. Luckily, streets were empty tonight. Not even delinquent children vandalizing walls. Only occasional figure of someone returning home from late shift at work. Perhaps tonight will actually be simple, thought the hero.
Nothing could be simple for Eraserhead. As he jumped a few rooftops, he spotted something. A sight that’s grown familiar by now. A sight that meant headache and frustration for him.
Tied down to a lamppost, were two men, struggling to break their binds by wriggling against it. To no avail. As Eraserhead approached the two, it took some time for them to even notice him.
“Stop pulling so hard! I can almost reach the knot!”
“I’m not pulling! You’re twisting my hands when you do that!”
“Well, stop being a baby and just bear with it! We gotta get away before cops get here!”
“And why would two adult men in an unfortunate situation be afraid of police?”, Eraserhead asked dryly as he made his presence know.
“Shit! Oh, wait, it’s just a hobo! Listen, man, it’s a wacky story! Believe me!”
“Yeah! Bonkers stuff!”
“So, we were just walking along, minding our personal business...”
“Completely lawfully, might I add!”
“When this weird guy in a white mask shows up! And he straight up says he’ll kill us if we don’t lay down with our arms behind our back!”
“Villain! Totally a villain!”
“Of course, we, law-abiding citizens, simply followed rules of hostage situation and complied!”
“And so he tied us to a freaking pole!”
Eraserhead already knew exactly what happened, but remained professional.
“I see. And, out of curiosity... Just why were you so sure the villain wasn’t bluffing?”
“Man! You had to have been there. The way he said it, I knew he wasn’t! Plus, I’m almost sure I saw smoke come out of his mouth!”
“Yeah, yeah! A bona-fide killer that one was! I think I saw him on the news!”
“The guy you told me about? White Mask?”
“Yeah! It totally looked like him!”
“No way man... He was way too scary and dangerous...”
“Anyway, hobo dude, can you just, y’know, help honest working men out?”
Eraserhead ignored their pleas, instead looking around. Close by, there was a dark alley, going between the buildings. Taking one peek inside he saw what he expected to see. A backdoor into a bookstore, wide open. A crowbar and a pair of balaclavas, discarded on the ground. Eraserhead sighed and returned to the bumbling would-be-burglars.
“I am legally obliged to inform you that I am a pro hero, and I am placing you two under arrest.”, he informed the two as their eyes widened.
They launched into panicked tirade about how heroes shouldn’t be allowed to disguise as hobos that quickly turned into them arguing with one another. Eraserhead simply chose to ignore them as he sent a message out to the police with his location and request for a detainment vehicle. To no surprise of his, he was told that a vehicle was already on the way due to an anonymous tip-off.
“Fire breathing this time, huh...”, Eraserhead muttered to himself.
It was eleventh different quirk reported to have been used by the White Mask Vigilante.
Eraserhead let out a heavy sigh. This night was not peaceful for him anymore.
***
This part of the city was more populated. Streets were clean, buildings were visibly stable and more people could be seen walking about their nightly business. And none of them bothered to pay attention to a young teenage boy, fast-walking somewhere. His destination was a simple apartment building, which he quickly entered. He adjusted the duffle bag he was carrying at his side and ruffled his green hair a little. And then he turned the keys to enter his apartment.
The moment door was even a little bit ajar, boy froze. Light. There was light inside. Why was there—
“Midoriya Izuku! Come inside immediately!”
Izuku sighed. It was bound to happen again, eventually. He was ready for this possibility. Theoretically. Emotionally, he was struggling to keep his heart from jumping out immediately.
He entered and saw his mother sitting in a chair, facing the door directly. Her look was stern, but it couldn’t hide her watery eyes.
Izuku quickly closed the door behind him, but remained in place, awaiting his judgement.
“You’re lucky I was only about to call the police and start the search!”
Damn. That means she woke up no longer than 30 minutes ago. If he sprinted back home, then maybe—
“I wake up at two in the morning to get some water, and check up on you as you sleep only to find your All Might body pillow instead of you!”
“W-Why did you check under the sheet...?”
“Because I thought my son was being such a good boy and deserved a little kiss to sleep better!”, Inko almost blew up, before she simply sunk back into the chair, wiping her forehead with a little rag. “Izuku... Why were you outside in the middle of the night again?”
“Exercise.”
He answered too quickly. It didn’t matter.
“Exercise?! In the middle of the night? Izuku...”
“I just... Need to get stronger. I thought a good way would be to go somewhere nobody would see me and train myself.”
“Izuku... Oh, Izuku...”, started his mother before sobbing overtook her. It made Izuku feel rotten inside. He probably deserved this.
Of course, Midoriya Inko couldn’t keep up the stern mother act for long. In a few seconds she rushed over, hugging her son tightly and clutching him.
“Izuku, I know how important your dream of being a hero is to you... But you can’t... Can’t worry me like that... What if something happened to you? What if you were attacked by a villain?”, she sobbed into his shoulder. Izuku felt tears welling up. Midoriya tears were infectious like that.
“I’m... I’m sorry, mom...”, he really was, “I just... it’s really important for me...”, it really was, “And... and I—”
“I’ll buy you a gym membership—Wait, no, you just... Sorry, Izuku, if you don’t want to feel watched, I could... See if we can find an inexpensive private instructor and—”
“No!”
That came out wrong. Way too panicky. No lies prepared for this. Improvisation go!
“I mean... I... I want to train myself. I can do it, mom, really!”
“But why at night?! Why sneak out?! Why not tell me anything?!”
“I just... don’t have much time during the day? Schoolwork takes most of time and, I didn’t want to wake you up... So, I, uh... Just thought it’d be best to find some park or beach?”
“Izukuuuu....”, his mom wailed into his shoulder. Izuku’s own tears were making it hard to see. He felt guilty, deceiving his mother like that.
“Mom, I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to make you worry.”, it felt good to say that. Say something truthful. He doesn’t get to do that much.
“Izuku... Once I get my next paycheck, I’ll buy some equipment. You can exercise at home. Even at night! Don’t worry about me, just please... Don’t sneak out like that again, alright?”, Inko pulled back from the hug the two were sharing and looked her son in the eyes.
“I... I promise.”, he responded. The pang of guilt over this one was too much. He couldn’t hold his tears back anymore. “I’m sorry, mooooom...”, he wailed as he clutched her back into the hug.
“Izukuuuu...”, responded his mother in kind.
Thankfully, their neighbours were acquainted enough with occasional Midoriya family conflicts, that the ghastly wails and mild flooding were not a shock. Though the timing at which this one occurred was unusually late, nobody cared enough to come down and tell them to stop.
***
It was eight in the morning. Eraserhead’s patrol usually ends at seven. He was frustrated.
The two thugs made the interrogation as difficult as possible, desperately trying to claim innocence in progressively more ridiculous ways. But a detective arrived who quickly made the two crack, and now this Detective Tsukauchi wanted to have a talk with the hero who was most experienced in dealing with the White Mask Vigilante.
This could have been a written report. This could have been an email. This could have been a bunch of text messages back and forth. But no, detective insisted that Eraserhead’s debrief would be conducted in person. Finally, the man entered the room. Technically, interrogation room, but Eraserhead knew that they weren’t being watched through the one-way mirror anymore. He saw the officers leave the booth before entering it himself.
Detective Tsukauchi had surprisingly plain appearance for someone who made the two weasels crack so easily. And unsurprisingly plain for someone who insisted on unnecessary protocol.
“Greetings. My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa, and I am a detective. While the White Mask Vigilante case is not assigned to me, it may be related to another case, so when I heard that hero who had multiple encounters with the vigilante was present, I rushed here.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“Hm? What do you mean, mister...?”, detective raised an eyebrow.
“Aizawa Shouta. And what I mean is, I have not had a single encounter with the vigilante himself. Only with aftermath of his work.”
“Ah... the tied up criminals left out on the street, with police notified through an anonymous tip or victim’s report. That is his M.O., yes?”
“Pretty much. I happened to run in on two previous cases of that before police did. Never saw the White Mask himself.”, responded Aizawa. All of this could have been part of a written report. What a waste of time.
“I see. Well, I’ll be frank with you, I am more curious about the man’s quirk. According to my files, almost every time the White Mask Vigilante has been encountered, his...”, detective paused, picking the right word, “...’victims’ testified to a completely different quirk being used.”, he pulled out a stack of files, quickly referencing them, “Earthquake, once. Bloodbending, once. Telekinesis, twice. Super Strength, once... The list goes on. Don’t you find it concerning?”
Aizawa snorted.
“Somewhat.”
Detective’s brow twitched. Aizawa squinted. He felt like he was missing something here. Detective’s brow rose higher. Tsukauchi was expecting a concrete answer, making Aizawa sigh.
“No. I do not.”
The cursed eyebrow relaxed.
“I see. And why is that?”
“Because it’s impossible. And because of what we know of the vigilante.”
“And what is it of what we know that makes you so unconcerned?”, the detective pressed.
Aizawa reached out and grabbed the stack of files out of detective’s hands, quickly searching for the right page before leaving it open in front of Tsukauchi.
“While quirk has been changing, one thing remained consistent between testimonies of criminals he delivered. His appearance. Short. Young voice. Male. Middle schooler, high schooler at most.”
Detective looked at the file, confirming Aizawa’s assessment, but then looked back up at the hero, expectantly.
“Whatever his quirk is, it’s clearly some kid, way over his head, playing at being hero. People he captures are completely unhurt, except case number seven.”, and before Tsukauchi can find the case in the stack, Aizawa elaborates, “Robber. Hit his head on a corner of a nearby trash container trying to get free of the ropes. Second one I discovered before police did.”
“I see... You do have experience working with children, correct, Mr. Aizawa?”
“...I do.”
“And what is your input?”
“My input is this. Why am I being forced to sit through interrogation about information you already have spelled out for you in these files, from a detective not even assigned to the case, about a D-level threat Vigilante, while being questioned on my non-hero work?”
“...I am afraid I can’t tell you. But if my suspicions are correct...”, detective’s look becomes firm and serious, “This might be a SSS-level threat.”
Before Aizawa could question him in return, detective stands up, collecting the files.
“My apologies for holding you up, Eraserhead. Your insight is appreciated. You can go now.”
Finally free from the clutches of protocol, Aizawa stood up and left the interrogation room. Once he was gone, Tsukauchi Naomasa took out his phone and dialed a number. After a few moments, a voice on the other end greeted him.
“Toshinori? Yes, it’s me. Yes, I know, it’s late, just listen... I may have found something big.”
***
“DEKU!!!”
A slam of a familiar hand against the desk snapped Izuku out of his daydream.
“The fuck is wrong with you?! You asleep or somethin’?!”, asked a very angry childhood friend, glaring down at Midoriya.
“A-Ah! Kacchan! Well, I j-just—”
“Shut the hell up, Deku! Start packing.”, yelled the friend again, raising his hand up in frustration, small pops forming above it.
“Aww, looks like the quirkless kid didn’t get any sleep!”, teased some classmate.
“I’m not—”, started Izuku, but then interruption came.
“He’s not fuckin’ quirkless, you useless extras!”, yelled the blonde.
“Yeah-yeah, toe-joints, sleeper quirks, special conditions, yadda-yadda. We heard all that a ton, doesn’t mean that he’s not as good as quirkless. I don’t get why you insist on hanging with him all the time, Bakugo.”
“It’s none of your fuckin’ business, that’s why! Deku, pack your damn bag already.”, ordered Bakugo as the other students simply shrugged and left the two alone.
Fifteen minutes later, the two would be sitting on a solitary bench in nearby park. Blonde boy sprawled his legs and rested his arms on the bench’s back, as he shot his friend a glare. Izuku nervously took out a notebook out of his bag, as well as a pen. This notebook, unlike all other ones he owned, had no labeling or title. He opened it, intentionally making sure Bakugo could see it, pen ready to write.
“So, Deku. Care to explain why the fuck you look like you didn’t sleep?”, he asks.
Instead of answering normally, Izuku quickly scribbles an answer in his notebook.
[Because I didn’t.]
“That doesn’t answer shit! What the fuck are you doing at night?! Doing rituals at your All Might shrine?”
Izuku was already scribbling an answer.
[No. I go out to watch heroes fight. And it’s not a shrine.]
“It is. Tch...”, Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance, “You and your fuckin’ herowatching. You’ll get in trouble one day, you get it, Deku?”
[I know. Mom caught me coming back last night.]
“Seriously? Again?”
[Yes. I had to lie to her to not get grounded again.]
“You lied? To your mom? Deku, you fucker! Don’t you dare do Auntie Inko like that!”
[It wasn’t a big lie. I just told her I was working out at night.]
Before he could realize anything, Izuku felt a hand smack against back of his head. Ow. He deserved it. Still, ow.
“That’s a shitty fuckin’ lie, Deku.”
[I know. But I really didn’t want to get grounded again.]
“As if Auntie Inko can ground. I am surprised she did that last time you got caught.”
[She can if it’s about my safety.]
“And she’s right, you idiot!”, Bakugo slaps back of his head again. That one was also called for. “You can’t become my fuckin’ sidekick if you get killed by some villain fight in the middle of the night!”
“Kacchan...”, Izuku started, but Bakugo simply clicked his tongue again before continuing.
“Why the fuck are you so obsessed with these ‘underground heroes’ anyway?! They are all lame from what you told me.”
“They aren’t—“, Izuku started before interrupting himself and starting to write again.
[They aren’t lame, they all have very cool quirks. For example, Eraser—]
A hand smacked the notebook, interrupting the writing.
“If you start your mumbling in written form, I’ll blow your hands off.”, threatened the blonde boy.
To that, Izuku simply chuckled with apologetic look, before returning to his writing.
[Plus, I have done research and if I want to be a real hero, I will almost certainly have to at least learn from underground heroes. And likely become one myself.]
“Because of your stupid quirk, right?”, Bakugo asked bluntly.
“Yeah...”, was simple response Midoriya gave out loud.
[I need to keep it hidden, like underground heroes do with theirs], he added on the paper.
“How the hell did a shitty Deku like you even wind up with such a stupid quirk anyway?”, Katsuki asked, with slight exasperation in his voice
“Kacchan, don’t be mean...”, whined Izuku in response.
“Well, stop being a stupid Deku. You already got hurt on your shitty nightly outings once, remember?”, Bakugo reminded, looking at Izuku with accusation.
To that, the green-haired boy could only give a muted nod.
“That shitty bandage made you look like you’re a fuckin’ amnesiac.”
“Just because it was wrapped around my head like that doesn’t mean—”
“Deku...!”, Katsuki growled.
Izuku sighed and returned to his notebook.
[It doesn’t mean I was one. It’s just how they always make them look in comics and movies.]
“Well, I don’t give a fuck. You have to stop. Because if you get in trouble for this, or get yourself killed, I’ll fuckin’ kill you! Got it, Deku?!”, Katsuki asked, leaning in closer to Izuku, expression seemingly full of anger.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to make you or mom worry, Kacchan...”, he responded, closing the notebook and smiling back at his friend.
“Tch. Come on. Can’t have your mom worry about you more than twice in a single day.”, said Bakugo, simply standing up, picking his bag up and starting to walk off.
“W-Wait up, Kacchan!”, scrambled Midoriya, as he started stuffing his notebook back into his schoolbag, before rushing to catch up with his friend.
The two boys walked away from the park. As Izuku trailed just slightly behind Katsuki, he felt the familiar pangs of guilt. Lying to Kacchan was not as hard as lying to his mom, emotionally at least. But it was harder to actually get away with it. For now, though, he was safe.
***
Three days later, the night was not quiet and peaceful. Despite sky being clear, the light of the city made sure that no stars could be seen in the sky, only moon looking down onto the streets below. And in a darker, worse-lit part of town, in a thin alleyway between two houses, a terrible thing was occurring.
“P-Please, just let me go...”, pleaded the young woman, backing away, deeper into the dark alley.
“Now, now... Don’t be shy, I just want to have a bit of fun with you, little princess...”, said the creepy man with a large shiv, approaching her. He was huge, over seven feet tall, and had some mutation quirk that gave him owl-like features.
“Please... Don’t do this...”
Her pleas were ignored. The man was advancing and at the end of the alley was a dead end. And as shadow of the big man was looming over her, as if ready to swallow her up...
“Stop, now.”
A commanding voice could be heard from the alleyway’s entrance. The villain turned around to face the source... Without turning his actual body. The freaky villain simply spun his head, as appropriate of an owl. And source in question was... a short boy. Not man, it couldn’t have been a man, a boy. He was wearing some sort of a raincoat, with hood not even up; a pair of dark gloves and a big white mask covering most of his face, except for the mouth, and had dark hair, fluttering a bit in the light breeze of the night. The new arrival had a neutral expression, if visible mouth was any indication.
“Hah. Since when did Junior High start giving out hero licenses? Go home, kid. Cosplaying is for the conventions.”, sneered the villain.
The boy in the white mask stepped closer.
“You will let the woman go, or I will kill you.”, simply said the boy, putting emphasis on the word.
The poor woman shuddered as she realized she has gotten involved in something even worse than she expected... But her meek shudder was nothing before shaking of the large owl villain.
“Wait, shit, I know you! They talked about vigilante in a white mask!”, he exclaims, turning rest of his body around properly, focusing attention entirely on the boy.
“Miss. You should leave while you can.”, said the vigilante, addressing the woman.
He was right. The boy was right. She should run... And run she did, running out of the alleyway, past the young vigilante, and towards the closest police station, hoping to maybe run into a patrolman on the way.
That left two in the alley.
“Listen, kid, we don’t gotta do this all violent-like.”, tried to reason the villain.
“You’re right. We don’t. Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your back.”, responded the masked boy.
“What? You think I’ll just do that? I ain’t going down that easy!”, he said, raising his shiv.
Boy took a few seconds looking at the shiv. He placed a hand on something poking out at the belt under his raincoat. Looked like a large knife, but was hard to tell under the material.
“My quirk is called Viper. All I need to do is spit on you. Even a single drop of my poison can cause death within minutes if untreated.”, the boy starts explaining, making steps closer towards the villain.
Owl guy can’t help himself but take a step back.
“C-Come on! You... You don’t have the guts to—”
“I do. And I will, if you don’t do as I say. Lie down, put your hands behind your back and don’t resist. Or we will see how good you are at dodging spits.”, unhidden mouth on the masked face smiled, “even smallest touch will be enough for me. And I don’t care how you go down... To police. Or to morgue.”
The villain’s knees were shaking. He kept backing off from approaching vigilante until he hit the wall. And then...
“Please don’t kill me!”, he begged as he fell down, arms raised up in front of him in praying motion.
“Behind your back.”
“Y-Yes, anything you want, just, please, don’t spit on me!”, villain kept pleading as he corrected his position.
“Good. Now I don’t have to.”, simply said the vigilante as he approached and took something else from underneath his coat. A length of sturdy, reinforced rope.
A few moments later, one end would be firmly holding the villain’s hands together, while the other was tied to a drainage pipe of an adjacent house. With that done, the vigilante simply departed the alleyway, leaving the sobbing owl villain to wait for the police.
Masked boy took a few turns, until he entered portion of the street where he knew CCTV was not present. In a few moments, he transformed. The raincoat, gloves and mask disappeared, leaving only fluffy dark-green hair as commonality between him and White Mask. All the items quickly went into a sports duffle bag the boy was carrying under his coat before. And just in time as the moment boy was about to turn the next corner, a rushing adult in police uniform almost slammed into him.
“Ah! Young boy, have you seen a man in a white mask around?”, asked the woman, frantically looking around.
“White Mask? Like the vigilante? I didn’t see anyone in a mask, ma’am.”, responded Izuku, simply.
“Shit. I mean, uh, don’t tell your parents I said that. Wait a second, what the heck are you doing outside this late, alone?”, the policewoman squinted down at him.
“Uh, I was just staying over at friend’s house and we stayed up a bit too much before I realized I need to be home. So I’m going home!”, Izuku quickly lied on the spot.
“I see. You better get moving, and fast, kid. It’s unsafe around here at this hour.”
“Okay, I will! Thank you, ma’am!”, Izuku nodded and rushed off with a brisk pace, turning around to wave as police officer went right to where Izuku came from.
He decided not to linger any longer than necessary. He didn’t want to be up too late in case his mom decides to check up on him again. Or Kacchan notices how sleepy he is in class again.
But he felt good, and proud of himself.
Tonight, White Mask has apprehended his twenty first criminal in fifteenth successful confrontation. Fifteen was a round number, right? Well, multiples of five were not actually round, but technically considered rounder numbers when applied to multiples of ten than other multiples of ten, so that means—
***
Somewhere else in the district, a pro hero with bags under his eyes shuddered. His instincts tingled, and not in a good way. This is likely to be another non-peaceful night...