Chapter Text
"CATCH HIM GODDAMMIT!"
Every muscle in his body seized when he heard the order. The voice was too close, they'd find him any second now if he didn't move.
With a grunt he couldn't afford he grabbed the opening in the air duct and began lifting himself up. For a brief, terrifying, moment the blood that covered his hands made him lose his grip and he began sliding backwards. In that split second he was sure he was going to be captured again. He was never going to see his mom again. For the rest of her life she would never know what truly happened to him.
As his mom's face flashed through his mind he realized that he couldn't give up here. Not when he had endured so much. Not when he still needed to make them all pay for what they'd done to him.
He had to keep going. He couldn't stop now.
To stop meant to die.
Gritting his teeth he pulled himself the last few inches up into the air duct. He bit down the nausea that came with using 'that' and shrouded himself in shadows. The shadows covered him like a cold mist and his stomach rolled as he felt himself become immaterial.
He slapped a bloody hand over his mouth to silence his haggard breathing and to keep the nausea at bay. His other hand was pressing down on his side where a chunk of flesh was now missing.
The briefcase that represented all of his hope for his future was a few inches above his head. He'd prioritized the millions of yen and the information in that briefcase over his own life. Without that case he was nothing.
"FIND HIM! FIND HIM NOW!"
The voice was beneath him now. He squeezed his eyes shut and went completely still. He didn't dare make a noise. The shadows thickened and his head spun as he melted further into the immaterial world.
He was going to survive. He'd made it this far.
They weren't going to catch him again. Not now.
---- 🐺 ----
The news anchor sat alone at her desk. There was a somber air in the studio as she faced down the camera. She took a fortifying breath as the production assistant counted down from three.
As soon as the camera was on her face was being broadcast to millions.
“Today we are hosting a special segment in remembrance of Midoriya Izuku.” Images of Midoriya floated on the screens behind her. “Six months ago his kidnapping rocked the country. The young man was abducted on live television when he tried to help a classmate escape a villain attack.”
“Despite Pro Heroes best efforts the villain disappeared with young Midoriya. Searches for the boy began immediately. This case was of the utmost importance since Midoriya was only fifteen years old at the time of his abduction. And when it was revealed that he was a part of the 20% of quirkless people, pro heroes knew this was a time-sensitive case.”
The story was playing across the country as people paused their everyday lives to listen in. In offices it was playing on the break room TV, in pubs and restaurants it took up one of the screens, and one in five advertisement screens on the street had been taken over.
“After a month of searching, pro heroes discovered his remains in a dumpster outside of the kidnappers' suspected hideout. His identity was confirmed through DNA analysis. When pro heroes raided the building they found traces of the hardships young Midoriya endured, but the villains had already fled.”
“Following the discovery protests broke out across the country. His actions when trying to save his classmate endeared him to many people. Citizens used his name when demanding for more civil reforms for quirkless people. These protests have seen multiple new anti-bullying laws enacted and multiple hero training programs have been named in Midoriya’s honor.”
A young man stopped in front of one of the TV’s playing the segment on the street. The bottom half of his face was covered with a simple black cloth mask. A few dark curls peeked out from the hood covering his head.
“Midoriya was a selfless young man who loved pro heroes and what they represented. His idol, All Might, has shown support at multiple events where Midoriya Inko has spoken about her son—”
The young man scoffed and walked away from the TV. He pushed his way through the crowd and tried his best to ignore all of the whispers of those who were still watching the news segment.
When he reached the less residential streets fewer people had stopped to listen to the news segment. He pulled his hood further down over his face and made his way towards the hero agency nearby. Because it wasn’t an agency for a top twenty hero it held multiple offices for pro’s ranking in the mid thirties to low forties.
He waited for someone else to walk in before slipping in behind them. With practiced ease he joined the flow of people heading for the elevator and shuffled in with them. Everyone was too busy talking to notice as he melted into the shadows.
When they reached the fifth floor he slipped out of the elevator and disappeared down one of the halls. It was risky to be here in broad daylight like this but when he staked out the building last night he found that he couldn’t possibly avoid ten different security systems with ten different owners. So here he was, dipping into the shadows to make sure he wasn’t caught.
The hallway was dead silent as he made his way towards Death Arm’s office. The man himself was still under suspension following the kidnapping incident since he was one of the pro heroes on scene that day. But his offices were still open since everyone figured he would return eventually.
The boy slipped into the office with no trouble and sat at Death Arm’s computer. By the time anyone looking at the security cameras thought to check the empty offices he’d be long gone. With a hum he pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and stuck it in the computer. Within seconds the algorithm on the drive had bypassed the computer’s security and logged him into the available databases.
“Gotcha.” The boy grinned when he found the files he wanted. He downloaded copies of the files as quickly as the technology would allow him to. Some of the information was out of date due to Death Arm’s suspension but the majority of it was up to date thanks to how pro heroes shared information amongst themselves.
Just as the downloads finished he heard hushed voices from outside. Without a second thought he grabbed the drive and disappeared.
Moments later two heroes in training burst into the room.
“What the–” One of them said. “I swear I saw someone come this way!”
Their partner surveyed the room as they swore up and down they were sure someone had just been in here. Their eyes caught on the spinning office chair across the room and the illuminated computer. They grabbed their cursing partner and motioned to the desk with their head.
Silently they creeped over to the desk, making sure to cover each other. They rounded the corner of the desk from each side only to find a sticky note taped to the computer screen. They both stared at the scratched out message in shock.
“TOO SLOW”
---- 🐺 ----
Midoriya Izuku has been legally dead for five months. He’d had a funeral where more people than he’d ever known in life showed up and his remains had been laid to rest. His community mourned him, his mother was fighting to build his legacy.
But it was only two weeks ago that he escaped certain death.
He knew about the discovery of his ‘body’, he’d been forced to watch the breaking news as his captors celebrated around him. To pull off the con they’d used a quirk to create a carbon copy of him. The only thing it lacked was his DNA. To introduce the cells to the decoy they’d cut off a large patch of skin from his back. The skin had given the decoy just enough of his genetics to pass testing before they charred the body.
Midoriya knew nobody was coming to save him after they discovered the body, just like his captors wanted.
He endured four and a half more months of torture before he found a way to escape. But his escape hadn’t been perfect. For one he hadn’t managed to kill any of his captors. So they were all still out there, searching for him. And he hadn’t managed to escape quick enough. Now that he was legally dead he couldn’t just turn up on his mom’s doorstep. It would draw far too much attention.
So, he’d adopted a fake name and rented a crappy apartment in a part of town where the average population was simply too old to care about the sketchy kid that never showed his face.
He spent the first week nursing himself back to relative health. His escape had left him severely injured and he was too scared to appear in public in case he was found again.
By the second week, when all of his injuries had scabbed over and he could walk without a limp he knew he needed a plan. He didn’t have the luxury of being able to hide out forever. Eventually people would start questioning how he was paying for the apartment. He needed a job so he could clean his stolen money. But to get a job he couldn’t be nearly as suspicious as he was now.
He needed to heal himself, and fast.
Which is what led to him breaking into Death Arm’s office. There was only one way to heal quickly, and that was through quirks. He needed a black market healer. And as long as healers didn’t do anything too outrageous, pro heroes left them to their own devices. The pros only keep occasional tabs on them so arrests can be made if need be.
Thanks to those tabs, Midoriya was able to find a healer within a day of stealing the information. He put on his best mask and stuffed a couple hundred yen into his pockets. He had no idea what the current rate for healing was so he hoped that he'd just be able to convince the healer to help if he hadn’t brought enough cash.
He took the late night trains across the city to the healer’s last known address. When he arrived he was greeted by a large man dressed in black with an oni mask covering his face. The oni’s face was curled in a menacing snarl. Its red skin was painted to look like it was glowing with rage.
“Can I help you?” The man asked, filling in the doorway so Midoriya couldn’t slip past.
“I’m here to see Yajima-san.” Midoriya planted his feet and looked up at the oni mask without fear. If he was turned away now he would just find less safe ways to close his wounds. Either way he wasn’t going to be intimidated by a bodyguard after everything he’d gone through.
“Purpose of the visit?” The bodyguard continued to stare him down. Wordlessly Midoriya lifted his shirt to show the dent in his side where a chunk of his body had been removed. The scab was large and ugly and its edges were so bruised that his skin was black. He’d removed the bandage on the way here in hopes that the sight of his injury would be enough to convince the healer he needed serious help.
“You better not be bringing that trouble here.” The bodyguard threatened after a moment of silence.
“I wouldn’t be standing here if the trouble had found me since this injury.” Midoriya shrugged and let his shirt fall back down. After another tense beat of silence the bodyguard stepped to the side.
“Two rooms to the left. Yajima-san will see you in a few minutes.”
Midoriya ducked his head in thanks as he passed. He found the room with little trouble and took a seat on the examination table. The room was sparsely decorated besides the shelves filled with herbs and ointments lining the walls.
He was mindlessly reading the labels when the door opened and Yajima-san finally joined him. The first thing Midoriya noticed was how tall she was. She easily towered over him even with the extra height given to him by the examination bed. The next thing he noticed was that she was wearing an oni mask similar to the bodyguard’s. Except hers had an expression of near peace, it was still intimidating but it was clear that she wasn’t trying to frighten her patients.
“It’s not often my doorman directs someone to this room.” She remarked lightly as she made her way towards him. “You must have something seriously wrong with you kid.”
Figuring it would be better to just get on with it, Midoriya discarded his shirt so she could see the extent of his injuries. He watched blankly as she froze and took in the sight of him.
“Jesus. What trouble have you been getting into?” She hissed as she stepped closer to examine his side.
“People don’t seem to like me very much.” Midoriya shrugged, “Can you fix me?”
“I can attempt to reconstruct some of the lost tissue on your side.” She declared after prodding at the wound with gentle hands. “Luckliy it seems whoever did this to you managed to avoid your bones and organs so that’s not an issue.”
Midoriya could practically feel her gaze travel down to his hands.
“Can you make a fist for me?” She asked as she grabbed his wrist.
He winced as he weakly curled his hand into a loose fist. When he tried to make it any tighter his hand seized and he had to release the weak attempt.
“It seems you have deep tendon damage. I’m not sure I can do anything about that since the injury is old.” Her hand ghosted over the healing welts that circled his wrist. “I can repair the skin here but it’ll leave a nasty scar. Same goes for your side and your neck.”
“Please, just do what you can.”
Yajima-san nodded and motioned for him to lay down. She stepped away and filled a rolling cart with different jars. She also grabbed the empty trash can from the corner of the room and placed it on the floor near his head.
“My quirk converts plants to become tissue grafts for humans. It can be extremely painful and your body will try to reject the graft until most of the plant becomes a replica of your tissue. The pain may cause vomiting so feel free to use the trash can whenever you need to.” She explained as she put on some gloves and opened one of the jars. Midoriya closed his eyes when he saw her pull out a handful of moss.
“Your blood vessels will recover in time as the plant continues to convert but nerve damage will be permanent.” She informed him as she began to cover the welts on his wrist with moss. “Please try to bear the pain to the best of your ability, I cannot work on an unconscious patient.”
That was the last thing Midoriya remembered before he was consumed by blinding pain.