Archive of Our Own

As Izuku perched on top of the Act Tower, he realized that his quirk was much more suited for someone who was not afraid of heights.

"Okay, okay, okay. You got this." Izuku paced back and forth, trying to calm his racing heart. "It's only jumping off a seven-hundred-foot building, no biggie!"

Izuku ignored his intuition not to look down by, of course, looking down. And wow, that was a long drop.

After a moment's deliberation, he said, "Fuck it," and dove off the building.

The air rushing against his face would've felt nice if not for the impending doom of potentially splattering across the concrete. He took a deep breath, then whipped out his right arm. He pressed his ring and middle fingers down against his palm, activating the organic webs and aiming them to attach to the edge of another building, allowing him to swing forward with the momentum.

Izuku held onto the web with both hands, propelling himself forward and then letting go. "Whew!" he yelled joyously, flailing a bit in the air before repeating the motion until he kept up a steady rhythm.

He stayed far enough from the street to avoid hitting any pedestrians, street lights, or traffic lights. Though not so high as to fail to capture the public's attention.

It had been about a month since he was blessed—or cursed, depending on how you looked at it—with his quirk. His body had been altered to possess the characteristics of… spiders. Yeah.

It was not fun waking up and getting assaulted by the noises of the city, accidentally breaking doorknobs and cabinets, and shooting webs from his wrists. That had to be the most unnerving development.

Fourteen years without a quirk, and now he could crawl on walls and protrude webs from his body. Awesome.

He kept it a secret from his classmates. Pretending to still be quirkless didn't have, well, any upsides, but he didn't want the attention or to be treated like a museum exhibit, as Kacchan often was. If he was going to be regarded as an actual person because of a quirk, then he didn't want it.

So he took out his restlessness on the city. He hadn't exactly meant to become a "masked vigilante," as they called it, but if he needed to do what he set out for in the first place, he would deal with the title. As well as the police trying to arrest him.

Swinging to school in the mornings had become his usual routine. He made sure to get dressed where no one saw him, and to put his suit in a small duffel bag hidden behind a dumpster.

School went as usual; Kacchan's lackeys pushed him around, threw insults, and even vandalized his desk. Somehow, even though the teacher saw them do it, he got into trouble.

The only thing that had been different was Kacchan himself. For weeks, he hadn't said a word to Izuku. The closest thing to an interaction they had was when Kacchan would shove his shoulder into Izuku's and tell him to get out of his way.

He had a feeling as to why Kacchan was acting the way he was, but if the boy didn't want to confront it, then neither would Izuku.

"Deku."

Ah, he spoke too soon.

"I need to talk to you," the boy continued. His friends made a noise of interest.

"Bakugou, are you finally gonna beat his ass?" one of them asked. The other snickered.

Kacchan growled, "Scram, extras!"

His friends, neither flinching at the blond's tone nor the nickname "extras," deflated and left without a word.

Once they were alone, Kacchan pointedly looked away from Izuku. "I'm only doing this because the old hag is hounding me about it, okay?" he said, and Izuku nodded.

"She's worried about you. Where are you staying?"

Izuku had to school his expression. "Tell her I'm fine, alright? I don't need auntie worrying over me."

That got Kacchan to look at him. "But—!" he cut himself off, clenching his fists. "If you're not in a shelter or, or an adoption center, where the hell are you living?"

Izuku sighed. "Don't worry about it. Just tell her I'm in a shelter or something. Do the specifics matter?"

"Obv-fucking-iously! Are you on the streets?" Kacchan stepped closer, though his hands weren't popping with explosions, so Izuku didn't sense a threat. "It's been a month since—"

"I'm aware." Izuku's cold tone stopped the blond short. His face contorted into something Izuku couldn't quite grasp.

"Besides," Izuku continued, "I thought you didn't care."

"I don't," Kacchan countered swiftly. "My mom won't get off my back about it."

"Like I said, just tell her I'm staying at a shelter. Then you won't have to bother about it."

Again, Kacchan's countenance shifted, though he couldn't tell into what. Condescension, maybe. Certainly not concern. Or care.

"Are we done? I need to go," Izuku said after a few moments of silence. Kacchan grunted and, without another word, left.

Izuku released a breath. That could've gone better.

Again, after making sure no one was around, he changed into his vigilante outfit. It wasn't much—just a mask that had holes for the eyes and mouth, a dark green jumpsuit with multiple pockets and a belt to hold his support items, and black boots that fit a little too tightly. Unfortunately, he still had that pesky extra toe joint.

Izuku didn't normally patrol during the day, only when he was truly bored. It was the weekend now, so he had time to swing around and catch bad guys that the heroes were neglecting.

Because of the way he apprehended criminals (leaving them stuck to walls or the ground in webs, and sometimes even hanging them in a cocoon of them), the public had given him the name: Spider-Boy. He wasn't sure if he hated it, though he did hate the implication that it was apparently obvious he was a kid. Like, Spider-Man just sounded much cooler.

As night grew closer, Izuku made his way home—if you could call it that. He took his mask off and pushed his way into the abandoned building where he took shelter. The downside was that it was in the Red Light district, a much less safe neighbourhood than where he lived before.

Izuku changed into a sweatshirt and pyjama pants after refreshing in the bathroom. His eye caught on the corkboard filled with newspaper clippings, grainy photos of different people, and some pins with red string attached to them. And in the middle of the board: a picture of his mother, Inko Midoriya.

It was very crime/evidence-board esque that you would see on crime shows, though his was a lot messier and more obsessive. His mood soured every time he looked at it.

One month ago, his mother was murdered in a drug deal gone wrong. She happened to pass by an alleyway where the deal was going down, and she got caught in the crossfire when the man who was scammed shot a gun, missing the intended target and hitting his mom in the chest.

He still remembered the moment he found out.

There was a knock at their apartment door. Confused, Izuku got up from the dining table to see who it was.

"Did you forget your keys again, Mom? You gotta stop doing—"

The words died in his throat when he opened the door to two police officers. Each had a sympathetic expression.

"Sorry to interrupt your evening. Are you Midoriya Inko's son?" the one on the right asked.

"Um, y-yes. Why? Did something happen?"

The shared look between the two officers didn't help his rising dread.

"Do you know who this man is?" the one on the left asked that time, holding up a picture of said man. It was a bit hard to identify him because of the quality of the photo, but he knew instinctively that he didn't.

He looked to be in his 30s, with scruff on his face and a lean build. He had chin-length, blond, wavy hair and sunglasses on. He had a gun in his hand and what looked like a tattoo on his left wrist.

"No, I don't know who that is," Izuku said.

The right officer sighed. "We were afraid so…" Then he began to explain how his mother had been accidentally murdered by the man in the picture.

The officer's words were replaced with static. His words were muffled, and Izuku was staring straight past him. Murdered? What? This couldn't be real…

He almost wanted someone to pop out and yell, "Gotcha!" and this was all a prank in poor taste. At least then his mother would still be alive.

No such thing happened.

Before the officers could leave with their empty promises to catch whoever did it, Izuku stopped them.

"Wait," he said, then cleared his throat. They lingered in the hallway. "Can— Can I have that picture?"

"This? Oh, sure," the left officer said and handed him the picture of the murderer. "If you find out who he is, or have any leads, don't hesitate to call the station."

"Right." Yet Izuku had no intention of leaving this in the hands of the police.

The day after he got the news was when his quirk manifested. At first, he didn't know what to do with it. Then, after realizing he had developed quite a helpful set of skills, he decided to train himself so he could take down the man who killed his mother.

Unfortunately, those skills didn't extend to securing a job and obtaining a steady income to keep the apartment. Hence living in an abandoned building. It was much cheaper.

And the worst part of all of this? It was his fault.

Izuku was supposed to stop for groceries on his way home from school that day, but Kacchan and his friends decided to rough him up a bit after classes ended. He was so focused on patching himself up so his mom wouldn't worry about his injuries that he forgot to go to the store.

She needed the groceries to make dinner, so she reassured him that she could get the food. If he had insisted he could do it, or even gone with her…

Izuku shook the thought out of his head. It didn't matter now. She was dead, and he had to find the guy who did it.

No matter how far he dug, he couldn't find out the man's name. He did, however, find out what the drug deal was about. Izuku assumed a drug like cocaine, but it was something else entirely. Something called Trigger.

According to the police's records, Trigger was a powerful drug that enhanced the user's quirk temporarily while simultaneously weakening their rational reasoning. Apparently, it had been used to create "Instant Villains" in the past, and the police were actively trying to take it off the market.

Clearly, they weren't trying hard enough.

Izuku assumed this guy was caught up in the rumour of Trigger and wanted to try it for himself. As far as Izuku knew, he wasn't a part of any group that was trying to obtain the drug, or else he would've found him already. The only thing he was going off of was the man's star tattoo.

Whether it actually meant something or was just a personal sentiment, Izuku didn't know. But he would find him.

Just as Izuku was getting ready for bed, his burner phone chimed. Izuku groaned but picked it up, checking the notification. It was a police notice about a drug deal going on south of the district.

His hand clenched around the phone. It probably wasn't him. But what if it was…

Izuku changed and swung himself out of the building and towards the location of the drug deal. The darkness obscured him, which was definitely a positive for patrolling at night.

He landed on the railing of a fire escape on the side of an apartment building, just above where the deal was happening. Izuku immediately searched for blond hair, but no luck. However, a couple of them were wearing hoods, so it was still possible.

Izuku attached a web to the corner of the building, then flipped himself upside down, hanging onto it. He lowered until he was about two feet above them. They hadn't noticed him yet.

"Hey, you guys got any drugs I can buy?" Izuku asked facetiously, and it startled the group of men.

"Spider-Boy! This has nothing to do with you!" one of them angrily shouted.

"Hey, that's kinda rude." Izuku's feet let go of the web, and he dangled from it for a moment before dropping to the ground. The group took a unanimous step back. Izuku's eyes scanned for a sign of blond hair or a star tattoo. "I just wanna see what you have."

"None of your business," one of them retorted. His voice was a bit higher-pitched than the other's, so maybe a teenager or young adult.

He noticed a plastic bag in one of the guys' hands, and before any of them could react, he shot a web out and pulled it towards him. White powder, not Trigger.

"Aw, man. Not what I needed," Izuku said with a pout.

"Hey!" the man who he grabbed it from shouted, then ran at him. Izuku flexed his fingers before engaging in combat.

Minutes later, the perpetrators were webbed up, sleeves pushed down and hoods off their heads. No star tattoo or blond hair.

Disappointed, he propelled himself up onto the top of the apartment building. He took a moment to calm down, not wanting his anger and frustration to cloud his judgement.

His phone started to ring. Already knowing who it could be, he picked it up. "Yo, Tsukauchi! How's your night going?" Izuku greeted.

"Spider," the detective responded curtly. "You do realize you infiltrated a targeted police operation?"

"Hm. Not my problem."

"It quite literally is your problem. You could've gotten hurt or killed. These people are dangerous."

Izuku exhaled through his nose. "Couldn't be that dangerous if they went down so easily. I'm pretty sure one of them was a teenager, too. Relax."

"You're telling me to relax?" Tsukauchi scoffed, his voice rising at the end. Oh boy. "Spider, do you even realize how hard I've been trying to keep you out of trouble? The number of times I've had to remind the police that you're just a troubled kid so they'd leave you alone? Contrary to what you believe, I don't like putting kids in prison."

"Troubled? I'm wounded, Tsukauchi. I'll have you know that I have a perfectly normal home life!"

There was a pause, and Izuku could practically sense the detective pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You know what? This isn't even my problem anymore," Tsukauchi muttered. Izuku tensed slightly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll know it when you see him."

Him?

Izuku readjusted his grip on the phone. "Well, you'll be glad to be rid of me, then."

Tsukauchi sighed. "That's not what I meant, Spider."

"Then why'd you say it?"

"Look," Tsukauchi said, trying to gain back control of the conversation, "I did all I could. I told you to be careful for a reason, Spider, and now you've caught the attention of people higher up than me. If you get arrested, I won't be able to help you. Just tell me what you're looking for."

"How do you know I'm looking for anything?" Izuku shot back.

"You've primarily gone after drug deals and cases involving Trigger in one way or the other. Why are you looking into highly classified police records, Spider? Did something happen to you? Or… someone you care about?"

This was hitting way too close.

"I guess you don't need to ponder it any further, detective. Someone else will have to deal with me now."

"Spider—"

Izuku hung up the phone and shoved it into one of his pockets. He lifted his arm, about to swing himself home, when suddenly, there was a ringing in his ears and a tingle shot down his spine.

Without thinking, he dove to the side, landing in a roll and staying crouched low to the ground. Some type of gray scarf thing had been flung at him and had retreated back to the owner's hand when it missed its mark.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people," Izuku said as he got a look at whoever was standing near the edge of the building.

It was a man, tall, with long, black hair that was floating. He had on yellow goggles with slits, and Izuku could see that his eyes were glowing red. He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, black pants with a utility belt, and black boots. The only pop of colour was his goggles and the gray scarf.

Izuku had a feeling that was the "him" Tsukauchi had mentioned.

"And you shouldn't be out here past curfew," the man drawled. His voice was rough, like he had smoked a bit too much in his youth.

"But that's when all the fun is!"

The man's eyes narrowed, still glowing. "Go home."

"Nah."

Again, the man shot out his scarf, and Izuku blessed his heightened reflexes as he dodged to the side. "Hey, that's kind of my thing! Copycat!" Izuku yelled as he dove once more.

"Your thing— I've been a hero longer than you've been alive," the man gritted out.

"Okay, either you think I'm five, or you're, like, forty."

"I'm thirty. Now stop—" The hero tried one more time before Izuku had enough and shot a web, sticking his hand and scarf together so he couldn't use it.

The hero's eyes darted between him and his webbed-up hand. His eyes stopped glowing, and his hair stopped floating, too. Izuku looked down at himself, wondering if the man's quirk had affected him at all.

"What was that about?" Izuku asked, making eye contact with the hero again. "What does your quirk do?"

He almost expected himself to start floating, given how the man's hair acted when he activated his quirk. Though that didn't happen. However, a new kind of understanding flickered over the hero's eyes. Not good.

"I'm sure you can imagine why I don't tell criminals my quirk," the hero deadpanned.

"Ouch! I'm not a criminal!" Izuku protested. "I take down the criminals."

"Using a quirk without a license to obstruct police and hero work is unlawful, and it has a name: vigilantism."

Izuku shrugged. "Fine," he conceded, "I guess in the eyes of the law I am technically a criminal. But I'd beg to differ."

No way was he going to accept the same title as the man who murdered his mother.

The hero was silent, watching him with a calculating gaze. Izuku shifted uncomfortably at the silence.

"Sooo," Izuku remarked awkwardly into the quiet. "What's your hero name? Surely I can know that?"

He didn't answer right away, just stared, which was unnerving on its own. When Izuku began to think he wouldn't respond at all, the hero replied, "Eraserhead."

"Hmm. Nope, haven't heard of you," Izuku quipped.

Eraserhead closed his eyes briefly before saying, "That's the point."

"Oh, underground, right? Yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

Another bout of silence. Then, "Can you take this… stuff off?" Eraserhead asked, gesturing to his webbed hand.

"Yeah, no. They dissolve on their own. Eventually."

Eraserhead sighed long-sufferingly. "So I'm trapped here until it dissolves in an unknown amount of time?"

"Yup! Keep yourself busy!"

Izuku took a running start before diving off the building. He heard something like, "Kid, wait!" but he didn't turn back. He swung himself away, making sure to take a long way home in case the hero tried to follow him.

He ripped off his mask when he got back. Izuku immediately opened up his old laptop and searched the name "Eraserhead." After getting pretty much zero helpful results, he went down a few internet threads before he found something interesting.

From user purpleecat3, there was a low-quality video of Eraserhead in action. He used his scarf to catch a villain, his eyes once again red and glowing. The user wrote in the caption: Can you believe I caught this on camera?? The elusive Eraserhead, right outside my building! His quirk is so cool, erasing and levelling the playing field. I want to be a hero like him when I'm older.

Erasing? Like erasing quirks? It matched his hero name. Intriguing, since it hadn't seemed to work on Izuku. It clearly had a limit, but what?

This hero was trouble for Izuku. Tsukauchi at least let him do his thing and had the police clean up the rest. Now Eraserhead would be going after him directly, potentially getting in the way of his justice. He couldn't let that happen.

After the first instance, the tingly feeling happened to Izuku a lot more often. It always seemed to appear before something tried to cause him harm, like a danger sense, almost. He opted to call it the "Spidey Tingle" or "Spidey Sense."

Over the next few weeks, Izuku focused on finding out more information about the murderer and upgrading his suit/gadgets. He decided to lean into the whole spider thing, which involved a lot of YouTube tutorials on sewing.

Since he decided not to go out at night for a few days, he had to ignore any notifications about drug deals or related Trigger events. It hurt him to ignore them, but he needed to become better if he was going to try evading a whole hero along with the police.

Besides, he always checked arrest records after the fact to see if the man he was after was caught. So far, he hadn't been.

Tsukauchi had tried calling him a couple of times, and he didn't pick up. Maybe it was ridiculous to be hurt over the detective's words, but he had thought that they had a somewhat cordial relationship. However, he was a detective above all else, so Izuku supposed he was only doing his job.

School was no different. Kacchan still left him alone, though that didn't stop his friends from harassing Izuku. The spidey sense would go off constantly, and ignoring it had started to become uncomfortable. He dealt with it anyway.

To get his materials, he had been visiting the Dagobah Dump. It used to be a beach but was now a dumping ground for all sorts of trash. Occasionally cleaning it helped him gain muscle, but besides that, the place had a lot of useful trinkets and parts he could turn into support items.

The material he needed for the visor on his suit came from there. It wasn't the best thing ever, but he got it to connect to his phone so he could see the location of crimes going on through his scanner in the eyes of his suit. He could also answer calls through it.

His new mask covered his whole face that time, with large "eyes"—the visor—on it that he could see through. The material was breathable, so he wouldn't accidentally suffocate himself while wearing it.

His suit was black with green accents, an homage to his hair (and his mother's). It didn't glow in the dark, though. He was trying to be subtle. On the back was a design of a spider that was slightly lopsided from his stitching, but he loved it. It was his.

The suit and mask fit him almost perfectly—loose in some areas and tighter in others—and he was excited to test it out that night.

Once the sun went down and he was all suited up, Izuku didn't even wait for a crime notification to try out his new gear. Izuku flung himself into the air, enjoying the way his suit felt swinging from building to building.

Izuku realized he had company about five minutes into his swinging. Parallel to him was Eraserhead, also swinging from rooftop to rooftop. It was a bit hard to see him at first, since he expertly stuck to the shadows, but Izuku could see a blur of yellow out of the corner of his eye.

Pretending he didn't see the hero, Izuku dove downwards a bit longer in between swings, then maneuvered himself around a building and landed on the ground into a roll. If the hero wanted to talk to him, then he would do it on his own terms.

"Spider," Eraserhead said from behind him. His spidey sense didn't go off, so Izuku stayed relaxed. Izuku turned to face him.

"Hey, long time no see! Hope you got out of those webs okay," Izuku said, tone saccharine.

"You've changed your look," Eraserhead observed instead of answering him. "It almost makes me think you're taking this vigilante thing too far."

Izuku let out a closed-mouth chuckle. "I think I'm past that point, aren't I?"

His visor scanned Eraserhead, though nothing came up. Not enough in the database to get a good read on him. All he had was purpleecat3's video and comment, and that wasn't enough.

"My orders are to arrest you, Spider-Boy. Vigilantism at your age is way too dangerous. No one wants a dead kid because he was acting out recklessly. What would your parents think of this?" Eraserhead asked, taking one step closer.

Izuku had to stop himself from reacting outwardly to the comment. He gritted his teeth and forced a smile, even if the hero couldn't see it. "My parents approve of my nighttime activities, thank you very much. They even support me."

"That could fall under child endangerment," Eraserhead countered.

"Then arrest them and leave a child without a home. Not too heroic of you."

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed. His grip on his scarf tightened. "Tsukauchi told me you only respond to calls regarding drug and Trigger deals. Why?"

Izuku moved his head side to side, cracking his neck. "If I didn't tell him, why would I tell you?"

The hero sighed, rubbing his temple. "Tsukauchi wanted me to send you a message," he informed reluctantly, as if the contents of the message made him regret even saying anything. "He said he was sorry. He wouldn't tell me what for."

Izuku softened, if only a little. Maybe he should return the detective's calls.

"Was that supposed to make me tell you anything?" Izuku responded instead. "Because that was kind of a lame attempt."

Eraserhead took another step, and that time, Izuku took one back. Eraserhead stayed in place. "I don't want you getting hurt, kid. That's it. Why don't you tell the heroes what you're going after so we can handle it? Whatever it is is clearly burdening you, and a child shouldn't have to hold that kind of responsibility."

Izuku folded his arms over his chest, wondering if the hero would rather work with him than against him. Likely not.

"I get it, you're just doing your job, but this isn't something I trust with you or the police. Uh, no offence or anything. It's just— even if you managed to arrest me, I would find a way out. Even if you put me in Tartarus. This is my responsibility because it's my—" fault, he had been about to say, but didn't. Izuku swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried again. "I won't stop until I find him."

"Him?" Eraserhead latched onto the information. "Who?"

Izuku shook his head. Even if he did know who it was, he wouldn't tell him.

At his silence, Eraserhead let go of his scarf. "Fine. How about this? Clearly you won't give up on whatever you're after, but can you at least keep in touch so I know you're not getting into any other trouble? I meant it when I said no one wants a dead or severely injured kid. If you do this, I can make sure the police don't come after you, and I can keep an eye on you at the same time. Deal?"

No deal, Izuku almost blurted. He didn't need a babysitter. What if Izuku did find the man, and Eraserhead took away his chance at revenge justice? If it came down to it, Izuku would have to go dark and make sure the hero didn't have his location.

"Okay. Deal." If it surprised him how easily Izuku agreed, Eraserhead didn't show it. Instead, he just held out his phone. Izuku typed in his contact and handed the phone back.

"Another victim for my memes, perfect," Izuku muttered, smirking to himself when Eraserhead appeared to age another ten years.

"This is strictly business, Spider. Only for emergencies," Eraserhead reminded him, and Izuku waved it off.

"Sure, sure. Can I go now?"

At the hero's nod, Izuku didn't hesitate to use his webs to propel himself into the air and away from the conversation. He swung until he was sure he was far enough away, and he rested on a rooftop.

Logically, he knew it would make his life easier if he just told Eraserhead—and maybe Tsukauchi—about the man he was after. They had more resources than he did. But after the police gave up so quickly on the investigation of his mother's murder, he wasn't sure if he could trust the authorities anymore to handle it. And Izuku didn't want him to be simply arrested, either. No. He wanted to make the man pay for killing her.

So Izuku would keep all leads to himself until he finally found him.

He patrolled a bit more before deciding to go back home. His fridge was depressingly empty, so he grabbed a protein bar and ate that instead. Luckily (unluckily), his mother had left behind a good chunk of money for him to use. He was saving it, using it for the absolute necessities. If he could fill up on a protein bar, then he wouldn't have to use the money for groceries until he needed to.

Izuku continued his search for the next month. He had been convinced a few times that the man simply didn't exist anymore and he'd lose hope. Then, he would look at the picture of his mother in the middle of his corkboard, and his conviction would be renewed tenfold. How could he let his mother's death be in vain?

Eraserhead kept his promise, not interfering with his goal and observing from afar. Izuku got used to his presence eventually, since he was very stubborn.

He had returned Tsukauchi's calls, accepting his apology. The detective admitted that he would miss his shenanigans, and no, Izuku did not cry. They talked more regularly (meaning Izuku sent him memes and the man would ask what they meant almost every time).

Speaking of, Eraserhead pretty much ignored all attempts at text conversation that had nothing to do with patrol. However, the one meme that got a reaction out of the hero involved a cat, so now Izuku basically knew the man's weakness.

During one of his outings, he had spotted a suspicious man with a hood up and sunglasses. It was like his heart stopped. He was around the same height, but it was hard to tell. He was dodging into alleyways, so Izuku followed above him on the rooftops.

The man hid behind a convenience store building, taking something out of the bag he was wearing on his shoulder. A gun. Izuku didn't hesitate to jump off the building and land just a few feet away. He stayed in a crouch and webbed the man's hand holding the gun to the wall.

"Armed robbery is a serious violent crime, ya know," Izuku said before standing to his full height. "Maybe take a moment to consider—"

The rest of his sentence trailed off when a burst of fire erupted from the criminal's webbed hand, destroying said web. The gun clattered to the concrete.

"Well. That's new."

The fight went on for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Every time Izuku tried to stick him to the walls, he burned the webs away like it was nothing. So he had to resort to regular combat.

Izuku evaded the man's fire as best he could. When he had the chance, he jumped, shooting a web to allow himself to perform a swing kick into the man's sternum.

The criminal groaned, curling on his side when he fell onto the ground. "You piece of shit!" he yelled.

Izuku webbed him again, but this time sticking his arms to the ground so his hands wouldn't be able to reach the webbing. After the man stopped complaining, Izuku checked the man's left wrist. No tattoo.

"Goddamnit!" Izuku cursed, turning away from the man and letting out a frustrated breath. He ran a hand over his mouth, unsure of what to do.

Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to calm down. He took his phone out to send a message to Eraserhead so he could take care of the criminal.

As he sent the message, he felt a sudden surge of heat, and then an explosion blasted him through the brick wall ahead of him. The pain was so abrupt that he blacked out for a second.

Izuku gasped for breath, rolling from under the debris. He wheezed, curling into a fetal position.

"Spider? Spider!" a distant voice called, and Izuku tried to stay awake. It sounded like Eraserhead.

Izuku blinked and saw the hero crouched over him. He looked concerned, which was weird.

"Spider, can you hear me? We need to get you to a hospital."

Before the man could even finish his sentence, Izuku was shaking his head. "N-no. No hospital," he managed to say.

"Stubborn brat," Eraserhead grumbled. Izuku wanted to retort that he was the stubborn one, but he only coughed up blood instead. Not ideal.

"This is gonna hurt," Eraserhead warned. He pulled Izuku up as gently as he could, but it still felt like his body was being torn apart. Izuku whimpered.

Eraserhead shushed him comfortingly. "I know, I know. Just hold on."

Again, Izuku blacked out for a bit until he eventually passed out altogether.

When Izuku woke up next, it was to a world of pain. Moving shot a stinging ache down his back, so he stayed where he was. A sudden meow brought his attention to the mass sitting on his stomach. How did he miss that?

The sound came from a small, black cat, its eyes a piercing green. They stared each other down before Izuku slowly raised his hand to pet the cat. It let him, even purring when Izuku continued for a while longer.

"Oh, you're awake!"

The unfamiliar voice made him tense, and he scrambled to a seated position. The cat meowed in displeasure at the sudden movement and jumped off him, running off somewhere. Distracted by the cat, Izuku didn't stop to think he was somewhere completely unknown to him.

Moving so abruptly made the pain worse, and Izuku had to clench down hard on his jaw to stop himself from crying out in front of the stranger. He had bright yellow hair slicked back into a bun or ponytail—Izuku couldn't tell yet—green, swirly eyes with glasses on top, and headphones sitting around his neck.

"Wh-where am I?" Izuku stuttered, his eyes darting around the room. He was in a house, but whose, he did not know.

"This is Shou— Ah, Eraserhead's house!" the stranger clarified.

"Eraserhead?"

Izuku shot a hand to his face and relaxed when he realized his mask was still on. So was his suit. "Who are you?" Izuku asked.

"Yamada! Eraserhead's husband," the man, Yamada, said proudly.

Wow. Opposites attract, Izuku supposed.

"Where is he?"

As if on cue, the hero came around the corner, stopping short when he saw Yamada and Izuku conversing. "I told you to come get me if he was awake," the hero grumbled.

"I was about to! But the little guy was freakin' out, so I had to help!"

"I was not freaking out," Izuku rejected indignantly.

Eraserhead ignored them both and walked over to where Izuku was sitting. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Izuku lied. "Why am I here?"

"You were injured and didn't want a hospital, so I brought you to a friend. She healed you as best she could, but with you already being knocked out, she couldn't do much. She applied burn cream to your back and wrapped it. Don't worry, none of us saw your face. Here, she gave me painkillers to give to you."

Eraserhead handed out a pill, then pushed forward a glass of water that had already been sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. Izuku turned away so he could lift his mask and took it, hoping the pill's effects would work fast.

"Thanks," Izuku begrudgingly muttered. "Can I go now?"

"Spider," Eraserhead sighed. "You almost died."

"I think that's a bit of a stretch."

Eraserhead gave him a deadpan stare. "Do you have anywhere to go? Is there anyone who would be worried you're not home right now?"

"I told you, my parents support what I do," Izuku said weakly, and he knew no one was buying it.

"Spider," Eraserhead said softly, "c'mon."

Izuku clenched his fists, tired. "Fine. I have no one to go home to. Are you happy now?" he snapped, though it was half-hearted.

"Of course not." Eraserhead sat across from him. Yamada had retreated somewhere else into the house. "Are you safe?"

Izuku nodded. "I have a place to stay."

"With a roof over your head, I hope?"

"Yes," Izuku said with a small huff. "Nothing as extravagant as this, though."

Eraserhead scoffed. "This is hardly extravagant."

To Izuku, it was. But he didn't say that.

"So. I guess I'll see you tonight?" Izuku asked when the moment stretched on a bit too long.

Eraserhead's demeanour shifted. "You can't be serious."

"What? Why not?"

"Spider. You almost died. Do you not understand that? Your recklessness has gone on for too long. I won't always be there to save you."

Izuku stilled. "I don't need you to save me. And I'm not reckless. I know what I'm doing."

Eraserhead shook his head. "Kids don't know what they're doing. Especially vigilante ones."

"Be any more condescending, will you?"

Izuku stood up, stumbling a bit at the pain still present in his back. Eraserhead mirrored him, blocking his exit to the door. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Yeah, well, I don't want it."

He stepped forward, but Eraserhead didn't budge. "If I see you out there tonight, or any other night, I will arrest you."

Izuku glared at him behind his mask. "Back to this? I thought we had a deal." His voice was shaking.

"That was until you almost got yourself killed. The man you were fighting said you were looking for something on his wrist. Who are you looking for, Spider? Let me help you," Eraserhead demanded, almost desperately.

For a moment, Izuku considered his offer. Maybe he should let him help. As he thought before, the police would have a lot more resources than he did to find the murderer. If Eraserhead or Tsukauchi found him, then he would just have to get there before they did. Yeah. He could do that.

With a sigh, Izuku fell back against the couch. Eraserhead eased up, sitting next to him. He waited patiently for Izuku to talk.

"I don't… know," Izuku started sheepishly.

"You don't know?" Eraserhead echoed monotonously.

"I mean, I know what he looks like. Kind of. But I don't know his name or anything else about him. All I know is that he was looking for Trigger."

Eraserhead hummed. "And that's why you've been going after calls about drug or Trigger deals?"

Izuku nodded in confirmation. "It's been ineffective so far, as you could tell."

There was a pause before Eraserhead asked, "What did he do to you?"

"He took something from me," was all Izuku felt comfortable sharing.

Eraserhead agreed to look into it once Izuku gave him the picture of the man. In return, he would call Izuku if he found out who he was or where he was hiding/staying. Eraserhead made him promise that he wouldn't go after the man himself and to wait for backup. Izuku did, though he was crossing his fingers behind his back.

One thing he did promise, though, was to stay off patrol until he was healed well enough. His back hurt like crazy, and with the harassment he was already facing at school, he wouldn't be in his best shape to be fighting criminals.

Naturally, that promise also had to be broken when a fight broke out in the middle of the street near Aldera. A sludge-like villain was holding someone hostage in its slime, and that hostage was Kacchan. The worst part was that there were already heroes at the scene, and none of them were doing anything.

Luckily, Izuku had left one of his suits in a duffel bag nearby. It wasn't his new one, but that was fine. It would do.

Quickly changing, he made sure he was secure before using his webs to pull himself onto a building close by. He got a vantage point and tried looking for the villain's weakness. He had to hurry; it appeared that it was trying to drown Kacchan.

Finding something, Izuku swiftly slung himself forward towards the sludge villain. Without giving it a chance to see him, he shot multiple webs into the thing's eye, blinding it.

"Agh! What the hell!" the thing screamed, loosening its hold on Kacchan. Izuku swung out of sight, hoping the heroes wouldn't take their focus off saving his friend.

Izuku watched as Kacchan finally exploded himself out of its hold, freeing himself. Then, out of nowhere, All Might jumped in, incapacitating the villain with one punch. So cool.

He didn't bother going back to the crime scene. If he did, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from berating the heroes who stood by and did nothing.

Once the coast was clear, Izuku hopped down from where he was perched. Instead of landing silently, though, his boots made a scuff against the pavement. Man, he already missed wearing his new suit.

"You, Spider-Fuck!" Kacchan shouted from behind him. Izuku whirled around to face him.

"So vulgar!" Izuku scoffed. "It's Spider-Boy, for your information."

Whatever rant Kacchan was about to go on was stopped short. His eyes were wide in recognition. "Deku?"

Izuku coughed and nervously looked off to the side. He made his voice deeper as he said, "Haha, I don't know who you're talking about. Glad you're okay, young citizen!"

"Cut the bullshit, asshole. Take off that damn mask," Kacchan growled, undeterred.

Sighing, Izuku took it off and let his hand drop to his side. He still wouldn't meet Kacchan's eyes.

"You're Spider-Boy?" Kacchan scoffed in disbelief. "You've been keeping this from me? Your— Your quirk?!"

"No, Kacchan. I was quirkless up until—" Izuku choked up, still finding it hard to speak of what happened. "Up until Mom died. Then, the next morning, my body was… changed. I dunno. Maybe it was the stress of everything. That has happened before—people getting their quirks later on because of some outside factor causing it to manifest."

Kacchan crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, right. You expect me to believe you got all of that overnight? I'm not a fucking idiot."

Izuku was losing his patience. "Did you think I pretended to be quirkless my whole life instead? What kind of advantage do you think that gives me? Unless you think being relentlessly bullied and assaulted for something out of my control is somehow a good thing."

He could tell he hit a nerve. Kacchan clenched his jaw and looked away. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why would I?" Izuku countered. "So you could all treat me like a human being? It shouldn't have taken my mom dying for you to gain empathy."

Kacchan winced. "I-I know that. That's why I've left you alone."

"Right, because letting your friends do the work for you is so much better."

"They're not my friends!" Kacchan grumbled. "They just follow me around like useless puppies."

Izuku sighed exasperatedly. "And you let them."

Kacchan growled in frustration, then stepped back. "I'll make them stop."

It wouldn't make up for years of abuse, but it was a starting point, he supposed.

After a moment of tense silence, Kacchan broke it. "So, what, you're a vigilante now?"

Izuku let out a small laugh. "Kind of?"

"And Spider-Boy? Really?"

"Hey, I didn't make up the name!"

Kacchan scoffed, but a barely-there smile appeared on his face. "Whatever, nerd. See you in class tomorrow."

Izuku left the interaction feeling… calmer. Probably the most at peace he had been in a long time.

When he got home, his back hurt like hell, so he took another painkiller. Now he could keep his promise to stay off patrol.

It was only a few days later when Izuku got the call.

He was sitting on his couch, tinkering with his suit. Staying in had gotten boring—until his phone lit up with Eraserhead's contact.

Izuku grabbed it and answered the call, pressing it to his ear. "Hey, Eraser. What's up? Miss me?"

Eraserhead ignored his greeting. "We found out who the man is you're looking for. Minato Ishida."

Izuku straightened, his heart pounding out of his chest. It felt similar to when he had gotten the news of his mother's death. Minato Ishida.

Eraserhead's voice interrupted his thoughts. "He robbed a bank, and we believe he's going to use that money to buy Trigger. We just don't know where yet. I'll keep you updated."

Say something.

Izuku swallowed before answering, "Oh, okay. Let me know if you catch him." He hoped he sounded normal enough.

"Will do."

Eraserhead ended the call, and Izuku sat there for only a second before he rushed to put his suit on. He ignored the pain in his back and quickly set out to find Ishida.

Izuku stayed in the shadows, not swinging from building to building to stay off Eraserhead's radar. He didn't focus only on the Red Light District, since that wasn't where Ishida did the first drug deal.

He felt like he was running out of time. He needed to find him.

After a few minutes of not finding him, he had an idea. Izuku redirected himself to where it all started: the place where his mother was murdered.

Izuku perched on the edge of the rooftop and looked down. There. A tall man with a hood over his head and sunglasses was pacing back and forth. It might not be him, but…

Without realizing it, Izuku had been clutching a part of the parapet in his hand, and the brick crumbled from how hard he was gripping it. The debris fell just a foot away from (possibly) Ishida, and he glanced up.

He and Izuku made eye contact. Chin-length, wavy blond hair, a scruffy beard that had grown out a bit, and the edges of ink peeked out from his left sleeve.

With a cry, Izuku jumped and pulled himself down using his webs. He hit Ishida in the face, knocking him to the ground. Izuku didn't let up, though. He used his enhanced strength to his advantage, punching Ishida, kicking him, and pushing him away. Ishida didn't have a chance to defend himself.

After a couple of minutes of this, Izuku finally webbed Ishida to the wall, leaving no leverage for him to escape. The man spat blood on the pavement, breathing heavily. "What the fuck is your problem?" he heaved, groaning between words.

Izuku shook out his hands, barely feeling a sting. He stalked forward, getting face to face with him. "You killed someone, almost three months ago. A woman."

The response was immediate: "I don't know what you're talking about."

A sardonic laugh escaped Izuku's lips, and he punched the wall next to Ishida's head. The man flinched. "Don't lie to me!" he yelled.

"Look, kid, you clearly got me, alright? Just let the police arrest me for Christ's sake."

Izuku shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You won't get the mercy of an arrest."

He pulled out a knife, one he kept in his belt for emergencies. He never had to use it, but he was glad he kept it on him. Izuku pressed it close to the man's neck, not quite touching just yet. The man's eyes widened at the sudden severity of the situation, and he leaned his head back as far as he was able.

"L-look, let's talk about this! No need to get hasty. A kid like you, murdering someone?"

"You don't know what I'm capable of," Izuku hissed, pressing the knife closer. It drew blood.

Ishida let out a trembling breath. "Okay, okay. Y-you said I killed someone, right? Who?"

As Izuku stood there, knife to his mother's murderer's neck, he could only feel rage encompassing him. This man didn't even remember. Either he killed more people than Izuku thought, or his mother was truly just a footnote in this man's life. Insignificant.

"You… really don't remember?" Izuku whispered.

Ishida sniffed. "People die every day, kid. Maybe you got it wrong. Maybe it wasn't me."

Izuku clenched his jaw and snapped, "It was you! I have the footage of you shooting my mother in the chest. Your picture. That damn star tattoo haunts my dreams."

Still, Ishida seemed confused. Impulsively, Izuku ripped off his mask, watching him with a hateful glare. "Do you remember now?"

Ishida's eyes widened in recognition. Izuku knew what he was seeing: the same green hair and eyes, the freckles, and the round, pudgy face. Almost identical to the woman he murdered.

His eyes darted around Izuku's face, and he said, "Yes… Yes, I remember now. She was… she was walking with bags in her hands. I was angry because the man I was buying from wasn't giving me what he promised. So I took my gun out to shoot him, but he dove out of the way, and it hit…"

Ishida suddenly got desperate. "I-it was a mistake! Honest! I didn't want to shoot her, I… She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" he blubbered.

"Is that how you justify it?" Izuku sneered, moving his head closer. "'Wrong place, wrong time'? You killed her!"

"I… I…" Ishida had no more excuses.

Before Izuku could continue, the sound of sirens took his focus away. Cop cars were parking in front of the alleyway, and some of them were getting out. They stayed at the mouth of the alley.

"Spider-Boy," one of them announced, using a megaphone. "Put your hands up and step away from the suspect. Now."

Izuku tilted his head down and to the side, seeing the cars and the police out of the corner of his eye, but not letting them see his face. "If you step any closer," Izuku shouted, "I will kill him."

"No, you won't."

It wasn't one of the officers who said it. Izuku didn't have to turn to know it was Eraserhead.

Izuku chuckled hollowly, his eyes snapping back to Ishida's. "Should've known you'd come here, Eraser."

"Put the knife down, Spider. You don't have to do this," Eraserhead tried to reason.

"Yes, I do!" Izuku shoved it closer, the knife now drawing a steady line of blood. Ishida released a pained breath.

Footsteps were coming closer, but Izuku didn't move. His spidey senses weren't going off, so he knew Eraserhead wasn't going to arrest him. Yet.

"Spider," Eraser said, more quietly. "There's no going back from this if you go through with it."

"I don't care!" Izuku cried. "He took everything from me! If I do this, at least then she will be avenged."

"Who?" Eraserhead asked, his voice closer now. "Who did he take from you?"

Izuku could feel the tears rolling down his face now. His breath was shuddering, jaw still clenched. He never took his eyes off Ishida. "My m-mom," he sobbed, voice broken. "He killed her. He killed her! Over some stupid fucking drug! Was it worth it? Huh? Was it?!"

Izuku directed his last question at Ishida, who said nothing. He was shaking with the intensity of his anger.

"My life is over because of him," Izuku continued, his face scrunched up. "I have no one."

"That's not true," Eraserhead instantly denied. "You have me. You have Tsukauchi. You have that boy you saved from the sludge villain attack."

Izuku sniffled, his grip on the knife loosening. "You saw that?" he questioned softly.

"Of course I did, kid. I knew you wouldn't follow my orders, which is also why I figured you'd be here."

"Am I that transparent?"

Eraserhead hummed. "Yes."

Izuku huffed and shook his head. He kept the knife at Ishida's neck.

"How am I supposed to deal with it?" Izuku whispered after a few seconds of silence. "That he gets to live while she's dead? How is that fair?"

"It's not," Eraserhead conceded. "I understand what you're going through."

Izuku glanced off to the side. He could see Eraserhead's boots. "You've lost someone?"

Eraserhead made a noise of confirmation. "During my second year at UA, I lost a very close friend of mine during a work-study mission. He crumbled underneath a fallen building and died from a hit to the head by debris. I blamed myself for years, thinking that if I were faster, if I had been there, he would still be alive.

"But it wasn't my fault. It took years of my partner, my friends, and my therapist reassuring me and telling me that. So I get it. I know right now, it's hard to believe, but it wasn't your fault, Izuku."

Izuku wanted to be surprised that Eraserhead knew who he was, but he wasn't. He had gathered it was a possibility after giving the man the photo of Ishida, and he would figure out that he killed a woman named Midoriya Inko and that she had a son named Midoriya Izuku.

When Izuku didn't say anything, Eraserhead insisted, "I know you're better than this, kid. You're not a killer. Even if he deserves it."

"How do you know what I am?" Izuku asked, the words frail.

"Because I've seen you these past few weeks. Despite your skewed ambitions, you care about people. You've saved more than you've hurt, regardless of your vigilante status. I think you have real potential, kid. You could put that energy into something good.

"But if you go down this path, if you kill him, I can't help you."

After a long, tense moment, Izuku stepped back with a frustrated breath and threw the knife off to the side. His shoulders shook with sobs.

Ishida sighed in relief. "Wow, thanks, dude, I—"

The man's words were cut off by a swift punch to the face from Eraserhead, effectively knocking him out.

"Oh, so you can resort to violence, but I can't," Izuku grumbled through tears.

"I'm a hero, kid. It's kind of in the job description to punch criminals in the face."

They stared at each other, Izuku's face in full view of the hero for the first time. Eraserhead took in his tears, his red-rimmed eyes, and said, "C'mere."

Izuku practically gravitated to Eraserhead's chest, wrapping his arms around the man's torso. Eraserhead hugged him back, one hand coming up to rest on the back of his head. Izuku cried and clutched at the back of his clothes. He let out full, heaving sobs. Eraserhead didn't pull away or tell him to stop.

When the police took Ishida away, Izuku still felt bitter resentment. And he knew those feelings would take a long time to fade. Let alone the grief from his mother's death. It would become a part of him.

But it would also become easier to carry with the support of others. Eraserhead, who he learned was named Aizawa, and his partner Yamada (who he also learned was Present Mic) basically adopted him. They wouldn't let him live in an old, abandoned building anymore.

Kacchan kept his promise and fought anyone who bullied Izuku. Their dwindling friendship had been reborn, and Izuku had to endure Auntie Mitsuki's worried lecture about him staying in the aforementioned abandoned building and not confiding in her. She relented after almost an hour, making Izuku promise he would come over occasionally for dinner.

A month after almost killing Ishida, Izuku finally gathered the courage to visit his mother's grave. He felt guilty for not going sooner, and Aizawa rationalized it for him.

"Maybe you subconsciously felt like you couldn't until you finished the job. Like you weren't worthy of seeing her unless you, in your words, avenged her."

Yamada chided him for his harsh wording, but to Izuku, it made sense. He could barely face her picture on his corkboard.

Izuku had a good cry when he visited her, then told her everything that happened and how he was now in a better place.

"I love you, Mom. I hope I can become someone you'd be proud of."

As he walked off with Aizawa and Yamada, he felt lighter. He would always miss his Mom; no one could replace her, and he wouldn't forget what happened. But he also couldn't live with that kind of hatred overshadowing his life.

It was hard, but he eventually came to peace with his mother's murderer. Izuku didn't know what happened to him after he was sentenced to life in prison, and he didn't want to find out.

Instead, he focused on the good memories he had with his mom. He wouldn't give Ishida the satisfaction of making him the sole focus of his mother's life. Izuku allowed himself to enjoy his life and his milestones, like getting into UA. It was difficult not to share that victory with her—it had been his dream, and she knew that.

However, he still didn't have to share it alone. Kacchan also got into UA (he never doubted that), and Aizawa and Yamada celebrated him. He still had a family. Contrary to his initial belief, that wasn't something Ishida had taken from him.

Izuku wasn't alone anymore, and he was reminded of it every day.