Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya collapsed onto his cell's cold, hard floor and immediately curled into a fetal position. His injuries pulsed painfully on his skin, and he vaguely heard the cell door shut behind him. Izuku shuffled to the corner, body shaking from the pain and the brisk air of the room. His session with Sensei went on longer than normal, and it was a lot rougher this time around. Usually, he would write down the most recent developments for his own peace of mind, but he couldn’t even manage to sit up on his own. He tried to think about anything else to distract himself, but he couldn’t stop feeling the hurt. He gave up, instead trying to fall asleep.
He woke up to a sudden bang overhead. Izuku blearily blinked his eyes open, not being able to tell how long he had been out for. He carefully pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the wall as he did so. Izuku whimpered quietly as he adjusted, looking up to see if what he heard was real or a part of his dreams. As he strained his hearing, he could tell there was some sort of fight going on upstairs. It was too muffled for him to make sense of what was going on, and the pounding headache wasn’t helping, either.
Izuku must have nodded off again because he startled awake to the sounds of shouting right outside his door. Izuku flinched and pulled his legs to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Next, he heard grunts of pain or frustration, he couldn’t tell, and then it went silent. A moment later, some shuffling feet were coming towards his cell, and he could make out a shadow beneath the door. Izuku curled tighter against the wall, scared to see what – or who – would be coming inside. As Izuku held his breath in anticipation, the door opened with a soft click.
Shouta Aizawa knocked out another villain, his capture weapon carrying him over to the pile of two other men he had disarmed. Shouta tightened the zip-ties on his wrist and sent a signal to Detective Tsukauchi on his phone, letting him know he needed backup to take them to the station later for questioning. Tsukauchi received a tip that this building was being used as a villain hideout for a quirk trafficking operation, and he asked Shouta to investigate since it fell within his patrol route. It was a relatively small building that used to be a bar by the looks of the interior.
With no other villains making an immediate appearance at the moment, Shouta cautiously made his way forward. He stayed alert as he walked towards the back of the room towards a door leading to who knows what. Capture weapon ready for attack, he opened it, only to find no one there. Instead, a set of stairs greeted him, leading to the building’s basement. He crept down the stairs, taking in his surroundings as he got to the bottom. The last step led to a small hallway that only opened up to the left. Shouta peeked around the corner, and it was definitely bigger than the upstairs. The hallway spanned down at least 25-30 metres, with two doors on the right side and one on the left.
Just as he was about to investigate further, the door on the left swung open and two figures emerged. Shouta hid himself on the stairs, only slightly peeking around the corner so he could assess the situation. The taller of the two had strong, built muscles, black, curly hair, and sported a simple grey t-shirt and black pants. The other was… interesting. The villain wore a formal suit and tie, but where skin should be showing, there was black mist. He had glowing yellow eyes and a metal collar wrapping around the whole neck. They were making their way towards the closest door on the right.
“Get the brat,” the one with black hair hissed out, “or we’re both in trouble.”
Shouta frowned, eyebrows furrowed as the mist villain raised a hand(?) towards a red, glowing panel just next to the door. It blinked green. Shouta could not let them get to whoever was inside, so he leapt forward, quirk activated, and his capture weapon shot towards them. It would have wrapped around the mist villain’s arm, but he was surprisingly quick and jumped out of the way on the other side of the hallway.
“Shit. We don’t have time! Go!” The black-haired man shouted, and he turned to face Shouta. His mouth opened, and Shouta could see his throat lighting up, but he turned his quirked gaze onto him, and it promptly stopped whatever quirk – most likely fire breathing – from activating. The man faltered, and Shouta used that distraction for granted and landed a punch right on his face. Before he could recover, Shouta kicked the man in the stomach in quick succession, which caused him to fall backwards onto the floor, and he landed just behind the mist villain.
Shouta could hear police sirens in the distance, which resulted in the panicked looks on the villain’s faces. Shouta shot his capture weapon out again quickly, aiming to restrain them before the police arrived, but the black mist suddenly transformed into a sort of warped portal. The other villain scrambled through, and as it shut, both disappeared.
Shouta cursed and brought his capture weapon back to his neck, taking a moment to breathe. He scanned his surroundings once more and made sure no one else was present. After he confirmed he was alone, he made his way to the door the two villains were trying to get through, and promptly pushed it open.
The first thing he noticed was how dark it was inside, the only light coming through the hallway behind him. It illuminated a small room of concrete walls, floors, and ceiling, with nothing present except a few stacks of what looked like several notebooks and writing utensils. Shouta heard a small gasp from the far corner, and he turned to see a child. He couldn’t see much, but from what he did see, the boy was small. He had long, matted, green curly hair and clothing not appropriate for such a cold room. He wore a tattered white t-shirt, pants that ended just above the ankle, and a light grey, singular cuff around his left wrist. If Shouta had to guess, he would think it was a quirk-suppressor.
Shouta opened the door further so more light could flit into the room and he could clearly see the boy in front of him. Once he did, he inhaled sharply through his nose. He was covered in scars and bruises that looked fresh. When Shouta stepped further into the room, slowly, the boy pushed further back into the wall behind him. Shouta stopped and crouched instead, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.
“Hey, kid,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m a pro hero. I want to help you get out of here, okay?” Though he tried to calm him down, it did not seem to be working. The kid was still trembling and staring at him in fear and disbelief. Man, he was terrible with kids. He wished Hizashi were here to help.
Izuku stared at the figure in front of him, hesitant to believe he was who he said he was. He didn’t look like any of the villains that frequented the place, but he couldn’t be too sure. Plus, Sensei did not have any reason to stage a rescue. With all the fighting he heard earlier, maybe this man was a hero. Izuku just had a hard time believing that, after all this time, he was potentially being saved. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, though. Sensei could still be around, and he didn’t want this man in front of him to get hurt.
Izuku slowly uncurled from the wall, eyes roaming over the supposed hero. Long black hair, yellow goggles resting on his head, a light-grey scarf around his neck, black clothing, and a utility belt. He didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t automatically mean he wasn’t a hero. After the prolonged silence, Izuku almost expected the man to get irritated at the lack of response, but he only sat there patiently. Izuku bit his lip and decided to warn him instead.
“Y-you should… should leave. He will hurt you,” he whispered, his throat hurting from disuse. His eyes darted between the hero and the very open door behind him, leaving them both exposed for anyone to see.
The hero didn’t seem worried, though. With a shake of his head, he answered, “No one else is here. They all left or are being taken to the police station. You’re safe.” Izuku frowned. Safe? Left? Sensei had just left him there? Izuku doubted he had been captured, and the fact that he was still talking to the hero proved that Sensei was not here. He was confused, but relieved.
Was he allowed to feel that way?
Not having an answer, the hero spoke up again. “My name’s Eraserhead. What’s yours, kid?”
Izuku wrung his hands together and glanced at him with uncertainty. Just as he was about to respond, he could hear more footsteps coming down the stairs and a muffled, “Eraserhead?” called out from the hallway. Izuku froze and shrank back against the wall again.
Eraserhead muttered something under his breath that Izuku couldn’t hear and slowly rose to stand. “Don’t worry, they’re here to help,” he assured, but Izuku didn’t feel any less scared. Eraserhead turned, and he seemed to be talking to whoever called him in the hallway, though it was too low for Izuku to make out. Eraserhead ended the conversation with a nod, and he turned back to face Izuku, his expression softening. He kneeled on the floor this time, but still kept his distance.
“There’s a team of medics on their way, they will be able to help clean up your injuries. They won’t do anything to hurt you, I promise,” Eraserhead offered, keeping his voice low and stance open. Izuku relaxed a bit from where he was sitting; his body was exhausted from the stress he had endured over the past few hours. His head still hurt, too. Could he really trust this?
Izuku nodded hesitantly in lieu of a response, and Eraserhead nodded back. “Can you stand?” Izuku shook his head, and the hero hummed.
“That’s alright. Is it okay if I carry you?”
Izuku paused. He wasn’t used to this – being asked if he was okay with something. He almost didn’t know how to respond. If the hero wanted to hurt him, he would have done so already. After a few more seconds of deliberation, Izuku nodded. Eraserhead seemed relieved, but it was only for a moment before he neutralized his expression and stood.
“Alright, kid, let’s get you out of here.”