Chapter Text
Zashi is going to kill me.
Sounds dramatic?
Well, try being in Aizawa Shouta’s shoes at that moment. It has only been two years since he graduated from UA and started his career as an Underground Hero. Well, he has already survived his first year, which already puts him ahead of 40% of the Underground heroes.
Statistically speaking, 65% of Underground heroes leave the scene before their second year. 40% die during their first year of service. 15% suffer career-ending injuries before their second year. And 10% of them decide the danger is not worth it and retire.
The numbers are frightening, but the 35% who survive the first 2 years rarely retire for any reason other than old age. This is because these people are usually the ones who are well prepared to deal with the dangers of the job and have the determination to keep going even despite the risks.
Shouta is one of those. Every time he leaves his home, he promises his husband he’ll go back alive to him. He always promises to be careful. And he usually is.
So how is Shouta supposed to explain the bone poking out of his leg to his husband? How is he supposed to explain that this isn’t the result of a fight but of his tripping and landing badly while he was doing parkour?
So, sorry if he sounds dramatic, but he’s not lying. Zashi is totally going to kill him.
Which is why Shouta is sitting there on the fire stairs of a building at 3 AM, trying to gather the courage to call his husband and ask for a lift home.
“Zashi is going to kill me.” He mutters aloud as he pokes the bone on his leg. It hurts like hell, but he had worse before.
“Well, you should probably stop poking it.” A high-pitched voice calls from behind him. “An infection will only make everything worse.”
Looking behind him, he sees a toddler looking at him from the open window of the building.
“Kid, it’s 3 AM. Why the fu- Why are you awake?” Shouta asks.
“As surprising as it sounds, you are not the first hero to appear bleeding outside my window.” The kid replies with a shrug as he climbs out into the fire stairs with a small first aid kit in hand. “I know every Underground hero who patrols this area. It’s nice to meet you, Eraserhead.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, kid.” Shouta replies. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
The kid shrugs again and extends his right arm, showing Shouta, the back of his hand.
“Salazar?” The kid says, and Shouta looks around. But there’s no one else here. “Good. Mending a broken leg is easy, but I’ll need to set it back in place first.”
Shouta is about to reply but gasps when the kid sets a hand on the hem of his pants and carefully looks at his wounded leg.
“I’ll need to cut it, okay?” Shouta nods, and the kid grabs a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and makes quick work of cutting a hole in the hem of his pants.
The boy doesn’t even blink at the gruesome sight of an open fracture. He deftly places his hands on Shouta’s leg, and with one precise movement, he puts the bone back in place.
Shouta has to hold back a scream of pain, but the kid sends him a smile, half apologetic, half reassuring. It’s surprising how good the boy is at this.
With the bone back in place, the kid sets his right hand over the wound, and Shouta sees something moving along the arm and settling on the kid’s hand, but he can’t see what it is because of the lack of light.
The kid puts all five fingers on Shouta’s leg, not quite touching the wound, but very close to it, and a green glow emanates, illuminating the kid’s face for the first time and letting Shouta have a good look at him.
In the light, he can see that the curly hair he first assumed was black is actually green, as well as the kid’s round eyes. A face rounded by baby fat. Under each eye, he has a set of freckles forming a diamond pattern.
Looking back at his leg, Shouta notices the wound rapidly closing up. The boy maintains a focused expression, slightly sticking his tongue out his mouth. The wound takes about 15 seconds to close completely, but the kid keeps the hand on his leg for a few more seconds. Then the kid’s hand stops glowing, and he pulls it back.
“All set.” The kid says. “Do you feel any pain?”
Shouta moves his leg a bit but doesn’t feel any pain. Then he gets up, testing it. To his surprise, there’s no pain and not even a scar on the place where the wound was. The only remaining evidence of the wound is the cut on his bloodstained pants.
Shouta’s relief is palpable. A cut on the hem of his pants is much easier to explain than an open fracture.
“Thank you, kid.” Shouta says. “You’re my hero.”
The kid beams at him and reaches for his first aid box, pulling out a cereal bar and giving it to Shouta.
“I didn’t take any of your energy, but this should help anyway.” The kid says. “Take care, Eraserhead.”
“I say the same, kid.” Shouta replies. “Go to sleep. It’s late.”
“Okay. Bye, Eraserhead.” The kid replies and climbs back through his window.
As Shouta leaves, he glances once more at the building and sees the kid at the window waving at him, and despite himself, he waves back before jumping away.
As he goes back home, Shouta thinks back to the kid. He has a pretty powerful healing quirk, that’s for sure. But apparently, the HPSC doesn’t know about him yet. Shouta didn’t ask his name, but that’s for the better. Healers are rare, and to be able to heal a broken bone like that? Practically unheard of. The only other known person with a powerful healing quirk is Recovery Girl, and her quirk uses the person’s stamina to heal. Shouta feels no more tired than he already was when the kid healed him.
He’s not sure what is the kid’s limit, but one thing he knows. In the future, this kid might become the most searched healer in Japan, if not the world. If Shouta can do anything to protect him for now, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. So it’s probably best if he keeps an eye on the kid from afar. He knows where he lives. It shouldn’t be a hard thing to do.
- --- / - .... . / --. .-. . . -.
Izuku lies on his bed with a smile on his face as he thinks about the hero’s words.
“Thank you, kid. You’re my hero.”
Midoriya Izuku has always loved heroes, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to be one, at least not in the usual sense of the word. It’s normal to want to be like the people you admire, but while Izuku admired heroes, there was one person he always admired even more. His Mom.
Midoriya Inko one of the best - if not the best - surgeon Japan has ever known. With a success rate of over 99% in her surgeries, only once in her life has she lost a patient. Since he was little - yes, he knows he’s only 5 - Inko has been Izuku’s hero, and he wants to be just like her. A hero for the heroes.
“Izuku?” A knock on his door. “3 AM, you know the drill.”
Izuku smiles and calls back.
“Okay. Mom. I’ll go to sleep now.” He replies and lies down on his bed.
Izuku knows he’s not the easiest kid. He used to stay awake the whole night observing his window and stepping out to heal any hurt hero he saw. But after a while, his Mom caught him. Izuku didn’t want to stop, so she made a compromise. He can only stay awake until 3 AM, and only as long as he keeps his grades.
Since he’s homeschooled, that’s not hard to do. He doesn’t need to wake up early to go to school, so he can study at his own pace.
“You did well.” He hears a voice in his ear and smiles.
He raises his right arm and looks at the back of his right hand. He feels like something is slithering through his body until something that looks like a snake tattoo climbs through his arm, setting his head on the back of his hand.
“Thank you, Salazar.” Izuku replies. “It was hard, though. That’s the first time I set an open fracture.”
The snake opens his red eyes, looking straight at Izuku’s.
“I still think you shouldn’t be healing anyone like this.” Salazar says. “There’s a reason your mom didn’t register your quirk yet, despite you having it for more than a year.”
“It’s okay.” Izuku replies. “And she said she’ll have to register it next year, anyway. We can’t hide my quirk forever.”
“But we can protect you for as long as possible.” Salazar says. “God knows you won’t do it yourself.”
Izuku giggles and lowers his arm. Salazar worries too much. He’ll be fine.
It’s funny how genetics work. Izuku always expected he would have some kind of telekinesis or fire quirk. Maybe even both if he was lucky. Imagine his surprise when on his fourth birthday, he started hearing a voice in his head. Then next, a snake tattoo appeared on his right arm. And the tattoo could move too!
That day was a shock, but his Mom helped Izuku to understand his quirk.
Snake of Asclepius. That’s what Izuku wants to call his quirk when he finally registers it.
The snake tattoo on his arm is sentient and can move through his arm. Izuku called him Salazar after a character from one of his Mom’s books, something with wizards. He quickly learned that Salazar could see and heal wounds. But he’s only half of Izuku’s quirk.
The other half, Izuku is sure it came straight from his Mom. Inko can pull small objects toward her. She uses this skill masterfully during her surgeries. Izuku can also pull things. When he touches someone with his left hand, he can pull energy from them. The energy goes straight to Salazar, and the more energy he has, the more vivid Salazar becomes.
As long as Izuku sets his right hand on someone, Salazar can heal this person’s wounds. He can also heal Izuku’s own wounds, though Izuku doesn’t have any say on that front. Salazar absolutely hates seeing Izuku hurt, so even a paper cut is quickly healed by the snake quirk. Izuku often compares him to an overprotective older brother, but Salazar never seems to mind.
Despite not liking how much Izuku is exposing himself, Salazar never refuses to help Izuku heal heroes, as long as they aren’t rude to Izuku. The quirk is also extremely petty, and can hold a grudge like no one Izuku ever knew except maybe Kacchan.
The only hero who was ever rude to Izuku was someone called Kobra. After that, Salazar absolutely refused to ever heal him until the day he appeared in front of his window, bleeding profoundly from a stab. Even so, Salazar only agreed to heal him when the hero bowed to Izuku and begged for his forgiveness. After that, the hero was never rude to Izuku again. But Salazar still refuses to heal him unless it’s an emergency. And by emergency, he means “he’s going to die if he’s not healed RIGHT NOW.” If he can get to a hospital alive, no dice.
Most of the time, the problem is the opposite. Most heroes feel like they are taking advantage of Izuku by using his quirk to heal. Izuku can understand why. Healers are rare, and most of them are either part of big hero agencies or directly under the HPSC. But regardless, the only way to have access to one is usually by paying them. And healers, especially the ones who know their value, are expensive.
Izuku never asked for anything in exchange for his healing. He thinks the heroes are already doing enough for him. After all, by doing that, they let Izuku train his quirk. But most of them insist on bringing gifts whenever they see Izuku, even when they aren’t there to be healed.
Izuku is actually pretty happy with how cooperative Eraserhead was just now. Most of the time, he would need at least 20 minutes just to convince a new hero to let him heal them. Maybe he finally found a hero that won’t give him a headache and try to hide wounds. That would be great.
Despite his excitement, it doesn’t take long for Izuku to fall asleep. And the next day, he finds a Present Mic plush in front of his window, along with a note.
Thanks again, kid.
Grinning, Izuku puts the plush on his bed with his All Might, Gang Orca, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist plushes.