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Bitch, I’m Incognito

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     A few days after the Sludge Villain Attack, there was talk of a new vigilante running loose on the streets.

 

     What most people expected, when they heard the news, was another Puppeteer, a talented young vigilante of two years who relied heavily on his unknown Quirk, and popped up sporadically. Despite the time gaps, whenever Puppeteer showed up, those in the wrong automatically knew there was no way out.

 

      No one knew what his Quirk was, but he always managed to subdue the villains and criminals in record time, turning them in without a hassle.

 

     This new vigilante was not like Puppeteer.

       

     This vigilante was known for taking down small time criminals, to mob bosses, to super villains, tying them up with a nice bow, and leaving them on the police’s doorstep. This vigilante was quickly identified as the same vigilante that had gone MIA a few months ago, after a staged murder. They had gone by the name Spider. They now called themselves Machiavellian.

 

     ‘They’, because no one has actually seen them.

 

     There have been many people claiming they have seen Machiavellian, but every alleged ‘fact’ never helped the police find them in the slightest.

 

     Most of them were the same, “They were too quick for me to see.” Meaning exactly what you’re thinking. The police had absolutely no lead on who they were, and weren’t they happy about that? The only thing that let everyone know that Machiavellian’s vigilante work was theirs , was the symbol that was pressed into every turned in criminal’s shirt.

 

     It was a simple ‘M’, made out of a silver-colored substance that shines like a mirror, but wiped off like pancake batter on a spoon. No matter how many times they test it, the substance— they’re calling Machiavellians’ Mark, or M Mark for short— seems to dissolve and evaporate into thin air as soon as they touch it.   

 

     It only left those in on Their case more and more frustrated, because they had absolutely no lead on the vigilante that was swamping them in paperwork.

 

     If only they were ready for when Machiavellian actually decides to make an appearance

 

                  _________

 

     A figure clad in all black slipped into an abandoned building, unnoticed by all around them.

 

     The figure walked deeper into the building, stepping over  decaying tables and chairs, along with spray paint cans from some delinquent who decided to leave their mark on the building, before being way too creeped out at the shadows that seemed to claw at you.

 

     They stopped in what could have been a conference room, and lifted a well-oiled trap door that was hidden behind a decaying couch. The figure then began climbing down the steps, silently closing the trap door behind them.

 

     The person dropped down to the ground in a crouch, completely silent, ears straining to pick up any sound, before determining they weren’t being followed, and they stood back up and continued walking. As the figure walked down a seemingly endless corridor, with a million different tunnels on either side, it seemed to get brighter and brighter, as if they were walking towards a light. It was a fake, to throw off people who weren’t supposed to be there.

 

     They counted hallways, left arm outstretched to graze the walls, before suddenly turning a corner to continue their journey down a pitch black hallway. Near the end of the hallway, there was a barely visible ladder hanging from a hole that would take them back above ground.

 

     The figure climbed up the ladder, after a quick check around, because you could never be too paranoid, and came up into a small room the size of an apartment bedroom. Instead of taking the door that was right in front of them, they turned around to face the hole they just came out of, and pressed an almost camouflaged button above it.

 

     The wall slid silently to the right, leaving a barely noticeable crack between the two walls, big enough for a small person to squeeze through, but small enough to overlook it if you don’t know what it is.

 

     They slid through the crack, and pressed another button, making the wall slide back into place and shutting them in utter darkness. Only when the wall was securely shut, did another wall open up across from the figure, this one allowing almost-too-bright light to spill out, but the person didn’t flinch, seemingly used to the transition of utter darkness to light.

 

     The person walked into the light, and was greeted with the sight of a surprisingly clean warehouse-looking room, with mechanical objects strewn everywhere in an organized chaos kind of way. The sound of a monkey wrench being used was the only sound in the room. The person stepped over certain tools on the floor with ease, like a practiced dance that was so engrained into your muscles from so many failures.

 

       “Why are you being so quiet?” A sudden voice sounded, making the black-clad figure jump. They hadn’t realized the monkey wrench sound had stopped.

 

     A head popped up from behind a large shiny, white thing , her once pink hair dirty with soot from a failed project, along with grease stains smeared across her face, grey shirt, and cargo pants. She pulled the goggles around her eyes up to rest on her hair, allowing the person to see her assess him in suspicion.

 

     The sight of the girl with the opposite of raccoon eyes would’ve amused the figure, if she hadn’t figured out why he was trying to be stealthy.

 

     Her eyes narrowed dangerously, causing the figure to shift uneasily.

 

     “Midoriya Izuku, so fucking help me, if you lost one of my precious babies, I’m going to turn your ass in and expose you as Machiavellian.”

 

       “Meiiiiiiiii~,” the figure- Midoriya- whined. “Why do you have to be so mean?”

Her eyes glinted with malicious intent. “So you did lose one?”

   

       “No!” Midoriya cried, tossing his hands up as if he was trying to prevent his death, which he basically was. “I didn’t lose any of it, I swear!”

 

       “Why are you shaking?” She asked, deadly calm.

 

       “.....well. You see...”

 

       “What did you do, Zu-chan ?” The tone of her voice was enough to force him to answer.

 

       “I...

mayhavehadaruninwithanewbiecriminalandbrokethetaserknife.”

 

     Hatsume blinked. Then she hummed and pushed herself up and out from behind her latest project to stand in front of Midoriya. She silently held out her hand, and had to suppress a chuckle when the boy scrambled to grab said knife from his thigh scabbard. He handed it to her, before recoiling as if she was going to hit him.

 

     She looked down at her precious baby sitting on her palm, and giggled, reveling in the way this famous vigilante, strong, smart, cunning, and dangerous , seemed to shrink into himself at the sound.

 

       “Don’t sweat it Zu-chan. You didn’t break this baby. It just ran out of electricity. I might have to install some kind of solar panel that picks up moonlight instead of sunlight to make sure it never dies again-“ her mumbling was cut off at the sound of Midoriya slumping to the floor with a relieved cry.

 

       “I didn’t break it?! Why would it scare me like that?! I honestly thought my days on this earth were over !” Hatsume laughed, and they lapsed into comfortable silence. Well, as silent you could get with a salty boy muttering about babies.

 

     “Hey, Zu-chan,” she said, getting his attention before Midoriya could start complaining about babies out to get him, and he looked up at her from the floor. “You know you’re going to have to make an appearance soon, right?”

 

     Said boy dropped his head back to the floor with a defeated groan. “I knowww, but I don’t know how . I’m a quirkless nobody-“ she glared at him. “-and if they search quirkless kids around my height, they’ll find me I KNOW it, because there is no quirkless kid my height, and you know one of the police officers has a lie detection Quirk, so I’d never be able to lie to him if he outright asks me if I’m Machiavellian and oh god whatiftheyfindoutI’mmeandtheysendpeopleaftermeMeiwhatamIgoingtod-“

 

       “Zu-chan,” she said. “Breathe.”

 

     He sucked in a huge breath, and said, “Sorry. Getting worked up for no reason.”

 

       “It’s fine, just remember, that no one has seen you yet, and technically, you’re dead.” Midoriya hummed in agreement, and they both sat there for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, before a light bulb went up over the inventor’s head.

 

     She slammed her hand down on the table, ignoring Midoriya’s instant reflex to grab his knife, and cried, “I have an idea!” The vigilante looked at her and motioned for her to continue.

 

       “Alright,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “But you’ve gotta listen to me all the way, okay?” He nodded.

 

       “Okay, so your main reason of panic was because of your quirklessness, and the fact that you’re so gosh darn small.” She ignored the indignant, “Hey!”, and continued. “So, what if you dressed as a girl-“ he opened his moth to object, but Hatsume cut him off. “You said you would listen! So shut your mouth and listen!”

 

     She started pacing, tapping a finger to her lips. “We can finally create an actual uniform for you, but it would be modeled for a female. Obviously, you don’t have the bust to fill a female model, but that way we can fill the cups with a strong but light substance to protect you from any bullets to the heart, since it will have to come up to your collar bones for realism. You already have a slim waist, and and an even slimmer butt, so I’ll create pants that have more padding around that area, along with hardened parts for the hips, so if someone grabs you, again, realism. You have nicely toned legs and arms, so I won’t do anything there except for elbow and knee pads, because heaven knows you need them. And then maybe some sort of high platform shoes to add to your height and throw them off-“

 

       “Mei-chan! You’re a genius!” Midoriya cried, cutting her off mid ramble.

 

     Hatsume stared in shock, before she grinned. “I know I am! I didn’t think you would warm up to the idea so quickly!”

 

       “I didn’t at first!” Midoriya jumped up, and bounced up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her. “But it makes sense! They’ll be searching for a quirkless girl , and even then you could fake a Quirk because you’re so amazing, and then I’ll really be off the radar, because of the me  in the suit, and the me out of it and— oh my god Mei-chan, you’re so freaking smart.”

 

     Hatsume beamed. “I know I am. Now, I’m going to get started on your uniform and voice changer right now, so if I see your sorry ass in the next five seconds, you’re getting a monkey wrench to the head.”

 

       “W-wait! Shouldn’t you sleep or something?-“

 

       “4, 3-“

  

       “BYE MEI-CHAN, CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE!”

 

     The boy turned around and hauled ass to get back to the door, and when the wall slid shut behind him, Hatsume set off to start Midoriya’s voice changer and uniform. She smiled, and thought of the person he turned her into. She was much level headed now, and it allowed her to think through her babies, instead of powering through them and exploding the entire city. (Again). She shook her head to clear her mind before she got off track, and got to work.

 

     After all, quality products take time to perfect.

 

         ____________

 

 

    The walk back to his apartment was peaceful. He took his time getting back, taking in the way the plants, not at all affected by the incoming clouds, shone beautifully in the diminishing light, because he knew that no one was waiting for him when he got home.

 

     Well, technically, if he went home home, he would have his mother losing her shit and consciousness at the fact that her dead son just walked through the door. She would cry, make him explain everything, call the cops, hug him, and then he’d have the one and only Tsukauchi Naomasa sitting across from him, who had a lie detecting Quirk , and-

 

     Yeah, maybe not.

 

     There wasn’t a day that passed that he didn’t entertain the idea of him going home. Back to his mother’s smile and warm hugs, her delicious cooking and giggling laugh, their late nights spent throwing popcorn at each other instead of actually watching the movie, dancing in the kitchen when their favorite song comes on, sleeping in a pillow fort during a typhoon, making silly faces across the dinner table-

 

     Something wet dropped onto his face.

 

     He looked up, at the swirling grey clouds above him, casting a dark shadow over the entire city, the telltale of a storm, and couldn’t help but feel relieved at the distraction.

 

     He didn’t want to think about it, about how strong he was because his mother was so protective. It sounds counterproductive, but Midoriya went from having everything done for him, from having his hair washed and shoes being tied for him, to being nine, living on the streets and working his first job.

 

     He didn’t blame her. He didn’t blame the fact that that damned villain Zònghuǒ had decided that he was going to take his rage out on their old apartment complex, that Midoriya was going to get crushed in an alleyway a few streets down due to an explosion from Zònghuǒ‘s fire reaching a gas tank, that when he finally finds his mother’s hospital room, she’s crying with two hero’s trying to comfort her because, ‘They found her baby’s dead body, burnt beyond recognition , and his funereal is being held next week.’

 

  ....he really tried not to blame her.

 

     Because she had so readily believed Endeavor and the Water Hose in his death, he had to try and work his first job to buy some sort of hair dye to hide who he was, because he had seen his mother come to terms with his death, had seen her move on, and he really didn’t want to try and reconnect with Baku-

 

     He cut off again. That train of thought would only hurt him.

 

     Looking back to earth, he continued his slow pace back to his apartment, everyone utterly unaware of his seemingly meek presence as they scurried around him with their busy life. Unaware of the danger he possessed, that he could kill 30 people, maybe 40, before any of them could look up from their screens.

 

     He could smell the petrichor get stronger in a weak breeze, so he flipped his hood up in a weak attempt to protect his expensive, sound-canceling headphones.

 

     It started raining down hard in the next second, and people began complaining about not bringing an umbrella, rushing to get under something to protect their clothes, while Midoriya just stood there. His black hoodie was starting to stick to his skin uncomfortably, but he ignored it.  He stood, eyes closed, with his face tilted up to the sky, each raindrop falling on his skin effectively covering three of his tears.

 

     He took a deep breath, and began to squash those feelings back down. He would deal with them later, he told himself, but deep down, knew he was lying. Only when they were successfully bottled up with a pretty ribbon, did he open his eyes and enter his apartment complex.

 

     His years as a vigilante gave him Quirk like senses, which were a blessing and a curse in one. He could hear, smell, and see as well as someone with a heightened senses Quirk, which had many downsides, and his flexibility, speed, and agility were off the radar.

 

     It was one of the main reasons he had to wear his sound-canceling headphones. Even with them on, he could hear about as well as he guessed a normal person could. If he took them off, his eardrums would probably burst, even if he was sitting in a quiet room, let alone standing in the middle of the street. That’s how good his hearing was.

 

     His agility and flexibility were the only good parts. His agility had saved his butt when the all-amazing Eraserhead almost saw him, and allowed him to jump off a two storied building, ( No Mei, your shoes didn’t work, I still hit the ground hard), and twist himself through a super tiny space to wiggle away like some sort of karate worm.

 

     Hatsume had found a video of his said karate worm moment from a street camera, downloaded it, deleted it from the camera, and still laughed about it, five years later. He was going to find a way to delete that horrible blackmail materiel if it killed him.

 

     He could hear all the noise his neighbors were making while he was walking up the stairs, and once again wished he had money to buy a better place, preferably sound proofed.

 

     Anytime he begged Hatsume to soundproof his place, she would respond, “You’re just gonna move when you have the money, what’s the point in me putting in all the extra work?” She would then wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. “What kind of sounds do you need to keep your neighbors from hearing, Zu-chan?” To which he would shove her, she would squawk in indignation, and they would end up in a tickle fight. She would always win, the dirty cheater.

 

     He successfully evaded all of his annoying wonderful neighbors, but he could hear the old man across the hall walking to his door, and he did not want to hear another rant from his homophonic ass. He practically lunged at his door like a lion to a deer, and almost snapped his key three times before managing to pry open his door.

 

       “Akatani-“ Midoriya slammed the door shut on his nasty greasy face, and slid down until he was sitting on the ground, curled up into a ball. The man’s face was printed onto his eyes, his shocked face, and Midoriya was shaking, he couldn’t stop it, the feeling crawling up his chest, no matter how much he suppressed it, every time he saw Christophe, it just boiled in the pit of his stomach, and usually, he can suppress it, but it seemed that today, he couldn’t.

 

     He threw his head back, and it slammed into the door, making a loud thud sound, but he couldn’t hold it in any longer, so he let go. Christophe’s facial expression flashed against the back of his eyes.

  

     He laughed.

 

     He howled with laughter, letting it rip from his lungs, undeterred by the sound of Christophe getting increasingly pissed off, only cutting it off when he heard his heavy footsteps march closer to his door before his disgusting heavy hand knocked on his door.

 

     Maybe it was supposed to be knocking, but with all of Christophe’s thousand pound glory, it sounded like mini explosions to Midoriya. He shuddered at the thought of Christophe exploding, before a flash of red eyes passed his mind and he cut that line of thinking like it had burned him.

 

     But it did burn , a small part of him whispered, and he tried shutting it out before it got worse, and thankfully (or not, depending on his mood) Christophe was still outside his door.

 

       “Akatani! When’n elder’s shpeaking with’u, you ansher you brat!”

 

     Yeah, not thankfully.

 

     He schooled his expression into one of indifference, one that would later rival the love of his life’s, and opened the door.

 

     He immediately wished he hadn’t.

 

     With about three feet between them, Midoriya could smell the alcohol on Christophe’s breath like they were nose to nose, and it immediately made him nauseous. A Midoriya with his head spinning like a merry-go-round on an electrical high made for a very rude, sassy, idgaf ‘Akatani’. He was currently trying to push that part of him down, didn’t want to blow his cover this early in the game.

 

       “Can I help you, Christophe-san?”

 

     “Auh, you c’n getchur lazy ass outta m’a house and getta job.”

 

     Midoriya just stared at him, and couldn’t help but wonder why Hero’s do their job if this is the kind of people they’re saving. He pinched his nose when Christophe swayed on his feet.

 

     “Christophe-san, you’re drunk. I think it would be best if you-“

 

       “Don’ ‘ell me whadda do, ya ungrateful brat!”

 

     He reached his disgusting hand out, probably to try and grab Midoriya, but the boy was already up to his head in irritation. He jerked to the side and snatched the hand, pressing wrist downwards, as if he was trying to show off his nails, and twisted his arm until it made a sickening pop.

 

     Christophe cried out and dropped to the floor like the overweight sack of potatoes he was. Midoriya leaned over him as the pathetic sniveling man cradled his dislocated shoulder and wrist.

 

       “Even if you’re drunk Christophe-san, you should know to never touch me. Try that again, when I’m not levelheaded, and you won’t have time to regret it.”

 

     He turned away from the whimpering man and shut the door on his snotty face. Then he snickered.

 

     He would tell that one to Hatsume, she loved hearing stories about him messing with Christophe, before remembering her tiny little threat of him keeping away, and he sulked while taking his shoes off. He wouldn’t see her until she’s done with his costume and voice changer. At the thought of his costume, he felt giddiness swell up in his chest. He was going to crosssdresss and fool the entire police station on who he was.

 

     He took of his shoes, before quickly running into the kitchen and snatching a trash bag. He took off all of his sopping wet clothes, chucked them into the bag, tied it up, before tossing it with the rest of his dirty laundry. He looked at the pile with disdain. It looked like he’d be doing his laundry sooner than he thought.

 

     He shook his head, and made his way to his room to grab clothes for a shower. Looking at his two boxers, one pair of pants and a t-shirt, he concluded that he would be doing his laundry tomorrow. He grabbed them before making his way to the bathroom.

 

     As he turned the shower on and waited for the water to heat up, (curse you apartment complex water), he began putting together an act for when he was in costume. He never really had one before now, because no one ever saw him in action, but he decided he would keep his cocky, confident facade in costume, and confident but shy one out.

 

     He was lucky Christophe was so darn drunk, if he wasn’t, he would remember the dangerous aura that Midoriya was excluding, and that was a no-no if he wanted to stay under the radar. A part of him wondered if he should fake a stutter, like he one he had when he was younger, but he would be easily traceable then, and that’s bad for business.

 

     He sighed as he stepped into the still kind of cold water. If only he could remain incognito for the entirety of his career, (is it even? It’s kinda of considered illegal?), but he also wanted in on the rush of lying to everyone and no one suspecting him. The thrill of tangling people in his metaphorical spider web, lying to them, getting their trust, all the while slipping underneath their radar undetected... wow. That made him sound wonderful , didn’t it?

 

     Completing his shower, he continued the rest of his bedtime routine and collapsed onto his bed. He barely had enough time to slip under the covers before sleep pulled him under.

 

                 __________

 

     He knew that a uniform and a voice changer was a lot of work, but Hatsume had created a freaking teleportation device, so what was taking her so long? (Before she smashed it with a screw driver on accident. And no, it wasn’t Midoriya’s fault. What was he supposed, stand there and take the hit? No thank you, he rather likes his face how it is— screw driver dent free.)

 

     He knew he was being pushy, especially since it had only been three days since she sprouted the idea, but he was bored waiting for his laundry to dry, and he couldn’t help but think that he could be in his costume breaking the law to save people. (Hatsume built that device in two days but nooooo.)

 

     You read that right, three days since he had also said he was going to do his laundry. And here he was: sitting here in the laundromat sulking.

 

     The only good thing was the little boy sitting across from him. He looked super sour sitting on the bench, his spiked brown hair sticking out from underneath a red hat as he glared at the floor like it had just said that his waifu was trash. Every time the boy looked in his direction, Midoriya would make the most bizarre face he could, and at first, the kid had stared in shock before glaring, but after Midoriya persisted in his little game, the boy started smiling and giggling, sometimes making his own faces back.

 

     Eventually, he had to end his game, because the timer for his clothes went off, and he did not want to be here any longer. Screw folding clothes, what was a couple of wrinkles? It’s not like he had a reputation to uphold. (That anyone knows of.)

 

     After tossing all of his burning hot clothes into his little bag, he waved goodbye to the kid, and promised himself that he would buy a washer and dryer. Three steps away from his freedom, he felt something tug at his shirt. Looking down, he realized it was the little kid he was entertaining with his amazing facial features.

       “What’s up, little dude?” He asked, before he could realized that this child might not take well to being called little.

 

     He was wrong.

 

     The boy’s eyes instantly glinted mischievously. “I’m little alright. I’m small enough to fit through your windows and steal all of your snickers bars while you’re sleeping.”

 

     Midoriya gasped as if the boy had just asked if Pepsi was okay when he clearly asked  for Coca Cola.

 

       “You wouldn’t.” He whispered, dropping his laundry bag and crossing his arms, leaning towards the kid with a fake scowl to try and add to the playful intimidation act.

 

       “Come at me.” The boy smirked, and Midoriya busted out laughing, unable to hold his facade any longer. This little kid reminded him of himself way too much. The kid joined in, before a gasp cut them both off.

 

     A woman was standing across from them, with her hands pressed to her mouth as tears ran down her cheeks. She was wearing a simple turtleneck white shirt, with a red pencil skirt covering grey leggings. Her hair was cut into a bob, the same shade of brown as her eyes, and Midoriya recognized her in an instant.

 

     Sōsaki Shino, hero name: Mandalay. She was a part of the Wild Wild Pussycats, and— she was still crying.

 

     Midoriya instantly shoved back his fanboying, “Oh my gosh! Mandalay-san, are you okay? What happened? Why are you crying? Is there anything-“

 

       “Kota...” she said, cutting Midoriya off mid-ramble. “Were you... laughing?”

 

     The boy—Kota—looked up to the hero and nodded. “He made me laugh.”

 

     With the heroine’s attention on him, Midorya didn’t know what to do. When she quickly closed the space between them, he instantly tensed, thinking that she somehow found out he’s a vigilante, how he’s been breaking the law, and oh my gosh he didn’t even get to test Hatsume’s uniform he was goingtodieunhappyhewasreallylookingforwardstothat-

 

     Warm arms wrapped around him and his eyes widened when he realized she was hugging him. A hero was hugging him. Holy sh-

 

       “Thank you,” she whispered,  her mouth hovering over the part of the headphones covering his ears. Her voice was soft, the crack loud enough for only him to hear. “He hasn’t even smiled since his parents died.”

 

     Ah. Who needs a heart anyways? It’s so overrated. His not-heart clenched in pain and understanding. Even though his mother was still alive, if felt like she wasn’t, considering he was  dead and she was out of his reach. Those kind of emotions were hard for him to handle, and this kid was going through the same thing.

 

     A tear slipped down his eye.

 

     The hero pulled back, startled. “Oh I’m sorry,” she said, her voice still thick with tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

       “I lost my parents too.” He whispered. Mandalay paused, before looking at him in shock. He turned to Kota, who had a blank look on— and didn’t that hurt. Someone so young shouldn’t have to wear such a mask .

 

     He kneeled down in front of the little boy, and placed his hand on top of his head. Instead of seeing spiked brown hair and dark eyes, he saw curly green hair and sad green eyes. He said what he wished someone had said to him when he was Kota’s age.

 

       “You’ll get through this, I swear. At first, it will be hard, and it will hurt a lot. There will be times when you just want to lay in bed and cry, but eventually, you’ll find the strength to keep going, I promise you. Wounds like these just need time.” He whispered, placing his other hand on top of Kota’s hat. The little boy looked taken aback, searching his eyes for lies, but only finding understanding , before tears welled up in his eyes and he threw himself into Midoriya’s arms, wailing out all the pain and loss and misery that he let fester deep in his chest.

 

     He curled his arms around the tiny, fragile boy in his arms, and swore he would help him get through the misery that was running through his veins. Kota’s hands strangled the back of his shirt, as if he could pull Midoriya any closer than he already was. Midoriya just curled his body around him more, as if he could protect him from all the horrors in the world.

 

     Some of the people in the laundromat began to give them weird looks, so Midoriya glared at them until they turned away, uneasy. A kid shouldn’t be able to look like that, but unbeknownst to them, Midoriya was anything but a kid.

 

     When the little boy had let out all of his pain, it was almost half an hour later and Midoriya’s knees were aching from pressing into the concrete for so long. He picked up the drowsy boy and handed him to his teary-eyed aunt.

 

       “Let him cry it all out,” he said. “Don’t praise his parent’s deaths, but don’t apologize to him. Let him cope in his own time.” The heroin nodded, not realizing that he knew exactly who his parents were, and thanked him.

 

     As she turned to leave, a thought struck her.

 

       “What is your name? How can I get back into contact with you?”

 

     Midoriya’s heart stopped. A hero was asking for his name and a way to communicate. He really wanted to tell her, but he could be putting the two of them into a lot of danger just by talking to them. He could be the cause of their deaths one day because he failed in his hunting down of that damned villain who ‘killed’ him and then what is he going-

 

     Kota shifted in his sleep with a small whine.

 

       “My name is Akatani Midoriya.”

 

     ..... shit.

 

     The heroin smiled, “Thank you, Akatani-san.”

 

     She turned around and left after Midoriya gave her his number, leaving Midoriya to wonder why the fuck he  thought it was a good idea to give a hero his real surname. Before he could put all these bad scenarios through his head, he snatched all of his clothes, leftover soap and dryer sheets, (don’t think he didn’t see you eyeing them, Sujin-san) quickly leaving the place and running back home. He almost took out a grandma, (100 pts), two kids, (50 pts), and a dog, (1 pt). 151 points anyone?

 

     Honestly, he didn’t know why he was panicking so much. He should be fine. He normally went by ‘Midori’, but two letters could literally be the downfall of everything he’s worked for. ‘Midoriya’ wasn’t a common surname, and if Mandalay decided to run his name through the system, she would either not find anything, or she would find pictures of nine year old Midoriya Izuku and his mother Midoriya Inko.

 

     God that name hurt to think about.

 

     He dropped his stuff by the door, locked it, tossed his headphones somewhere behind him, and collapsed on his couch, letting sleep take him into her sweet embrace. He was not gonna deal with the stupid thing called ‘emotions’ today or ever, no thank you.

 

 

 

     An annoying beeping yanked him from his nice dream of being asphyxiated. He jerked up away from the couch, a nice Midoriya-was-drooling-here- imprint left in his wake, before stumbling towards the beeping sound. He traced it to his phone, and sleepily put it to his ear before registering the slickness against his cheek. With the most disgust a fifteen year old boy can manage, he wiped off all the drool and pressed the green button.

 

       “Hello?” He slurred groggily.

 

       “IZUKU YOU LITTLE SHIT. IVE BEEN CALLING YOU FOR THE PAST THREE MINUTES.

 

     He cringed away from the loud noise, darting into his room to find his smaller earbuds to block out her yelling. “Oh?” He said smartly once they were in.

 

       WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘OH?’ YOU STUPID, FLAT CHESTED CROSSDRESSING LITTLE-“

 

       “Mei-chan, I’m not a cross dresser.”

 

     There was a moment of silence from the girl. “Well, starting tonight, you are. Get your butt over here and check out my awesome work.”

 

     She hung up.

 

     Midoriya will never admit to the fact that he stood there for a good minute, staring at the phone in shock because it didn’t happen, you hear him? It didn’t happen, or that secret you’ve been hiding from your mom will be spilled in an instant.

 

     He didn’t even remember if he locked his house, because the next thing he knew he was impatiently waiting for the stupid, slow wall to open, hurry the fu-

 

     The wall opened.

 

       “Where is it?!” He cried, running into the workshop and almost killing himself on all of Hatsume’s unfinished babies. “Where is my unifor- HOLY CRAP-“

 

      He didn’t shriek like a girl, you’re hearing thing. HEARING THINGS. The threat, remember it well... or else your mom will know.......

 

     Said girl was standing proudly in front of three dress forms covered in a sheet. Her hair was disheveled, somehow even sootier than when he last saw her, to the point where she didn’t even look like she had pink hair. (Did she even shower?! Umm, hygiene?!) She had dark eye bags that looked like they would drown her at any moment, ( god Mei, those are worse than mine) but her eyes were shinning brightly.

 

       “Normally, I would scold you for not even greeting me, but I am too excited to even care ohmygoshZuchanyou’regonnahatemebutit’sokaybecauseyoucantchangeanything-“

 

      ...he wasn’t scared.

 

    She ripped the sheet off of the dress form in the middle with a flourish, not unlike a blondie Midoriya would meet later on, and he blanched when he saw the main piece.

 

     He was fucking scared.

 

     The form only had the chest piece, so Midoriya was safe to assume one of the other ones had his pants and maybe shoes and his voice changer? But the chest piece, my god Mei .

 

     It didn’t have shoulders and it cut off right between his ribs. Hatsume. Put. Him. In. A. Crop top . She was so dead.

 

     It was unnerving, seeing breasts in a shirt but not having it connected to anything, and listening in on Hatsume’s rambling, she had made it to look like skin, and it even had a small layer of red dye underneath it that was sensitive to temperature to make this ‘skin’ flush or pale in certain temperatures. That was besides the point.

 

     The actual tough but flexible material was a dark forest green, and it stopped just below his collarbones, before going out like an off the shoulder shirt but without the shoulder. There was a triangle cut out in the middle of his chest, showing where his ‘breasts’ would begin, the ‘Y’ looking far too real for Midoriya to be comfortable. The material then went down, following the fake curves like a second skin, before cutting off right in the middle of his ribs with a loose ‘v’, following the curve of the breasts and would further accent the tiny waist he had.

 

     Everything else, his very feminine-looking stomach, his shoulders, up his neck— was that a fucking choker?! What the actual hell, Hatsume?!— was covered in this black fishnet-looking material that Hatsume said was made of steel covered nitinol. Flexible, but strong.

 

       “So?” Hatsume said after a few minutes of Midorya gaping at the skimpy outfit he was going to be wearing on the streets kicking ass. Suddenly, the thought wasn’t as bad as it was earlier.

 

       “It’s gonna take some getting used too, but it’s absolutely gorgeous, Mei-chan. Thank you.”

 

     She beamed with pride, before ripping off the next sheet. “And now to your pants!”

 

     Again, she needs chill on the dramatics, she isn’t getting paid for this. Midoriya suddenly felt a not-really-but-kind-of-pit in his stomach. Hatsume wasn’t hacking his bank account, was she? Not that it would bother him, random jobs and under the table payments, along with the fact that he wasn’t paying to go to school meant that he could live pretty comfortably if he wanted to. That’s besides the point though, was she?...

 

     ...well, he wouldn’t put it passed her.

 

     The pants were also slim fitting, and—thankfully— had no skin showing. They were a darker, grenade color, but they had a strip of grey running down the side of his thighs, which then connected to a weird looking rectangle thing. He didn’t know what it was, but it looked awesome.

 

     While he was inspecting it, she had pulled the boots from the other dress form and Midoriya blanched.

 

       “Hatsume Mei.” He said, his calm voice not betraying the inner turmoil that was his emotions. You do realize that those are heels , right?”

 

     She shifted at the tone of his voice, before her excitement overran any of her previous doubt. “I said I would earlier, to throw the police off of your super tiny-ness.” She again, ignored his indignant cry.

 

     “Besides, you’re 5’5, and these are only three inch high heeled boots. They’re form fitting, and these silver bands right here will cinch the fabric like a second, tougher, layer of skin without any crinkles, guaranteed!”

 

     She handed them to him, and ran off to god-knows-where, and he took the time to feel the smoothness of the boots, like water resistant shirts, but harder and minus the discomfort. Gosh, he was so ready .

 

       “Zu-chan! I got your mask and voice changer!” Hatsume came running back with a white top mask in hand, and a green bottom mask in the other. She displayed both for him to see.

 

     The top mask was a shiny white, looking almost like porcelain but feeling more like plastic. It would cover his face like a basic Columbia mask, but on the left side, it had three sections coming up like curved claws. There was a black see-through sheet over the eyes, thin enough for him to see through, but thick enough to keep most things out.

 

     The bottom mask covered everything the top mask didn’t, and would protrude over his face for extra protection. It had an oval in the middle of it, and upon touch, felt like a speaker. The other two ovals on either side of the middle one were smaller, and Hatsume explained that one would take in and purify air, and the other would release the carbon dioxide.

 

       “Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s get you suited up!”

 

     His head snapped up, and he stared at his best friend in awe. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a condescending huff.

 

       “I know it’s amazing, but let’s hurry it up, yeah? I still have to straighten your hair. We don’t have all night.”

 

     Tears welled up in his eyes. “Mei-chan...”

 

     She shook her head and took the mask from him. “None of that Zu-chan. The best way to thank me is to wear it, and kick ass in it.”

 

     She turned around to grab the rest of his uniform, and Midoriya took that few seconds to wipe the tears from his eyes. He clenched his fists and stared determinedly at the mask. He was so freaking ready .

 

 

     He was not ready.

 

     First of all, if you’re a woman, and you have to live with the god awful things called breasts ,  Midoriya pities you. They were heavier than he was expecting, putting a weird weight on his lower back that he did NOT like, and they limited his movement .

 

     And the straightener?! SENT FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL ITSELF. That thing was hot , and Hatsume kept burning his ears , and the hair that Hatsume finished burned his skin

 

     He was so regretting this.

 

       “Hush your whining,” Hatsume shushed, fixing the top after she squeezed it over his head . It was a shirt for crying out loud. A crop top sure, but a SHIRT. It shouldn’t need to be squeezed over his head because god that is so freaking tight air where have you gone—?!

 

     She slipped the sleeves on with no problem, since there was no alteration to them, and the elbow pads went on without much complaint as well. The sleeves connected to the main piece by a strap, and were to provide extra padding if he were to fall on his shoulders. The elbow and knew pads had an ‘M’ on it, and they were lined with gold that would glow depending on how much light it was exposed to.

 

     The pants were easier to put on than the shirt, only because he wasn’t getting suffocated while putting it on. Well, a part of him was but it wasn’t deadly.

  

     ...Right?

 

     ..... right?

 

        “Quit your muttering. I swear you’re not gonna die. No woman has ever died from putting on skin-tight clothing.”

 

       “That you know of!” Midoriya cried, three seconds away from saying screw it and becoming a streaker vigilante.

 

     Suddenly, the pants become suffocating , and the padding keeping him safe to have children in the far future was suddenly feeling like he was never going to be able to have kids.

 

       “Mei-chan-“

 

       “Midoriya fucking Izuku if you don’t shut your goddamn mouth right now, I swear to god, I will stick a monkey wrench so far up your ass you will thank me when it comes out of your mouth.”

 

     ....remind him to never mess with a girl on her period.

 

     He wisely kept his mouth shut.

 

       “Good boy,” she cooed, and Midoriya was not scared. Nope not at all, what is fear? “Now, how does that feel?”

 

     She had finished getting the pants on, (because Midoriya couldn’t do that himself hell no), and was grabbing his boots to put on. He brushed the hair out of his face and hesitantly twisted a bit to the side, scared for any pain. He was surprised to find none, that he could move quite easily, the only downside was his breathlessness because, I don’t know, his lungs are being squished to a minuscule of their normal size?

 

       Its surprisingly easy to move in this.” He said in awe, twisting side to side just a bit quicker than before.

 

     Hatsume chuckled, coming back and kneeling down in front of him, motioning to put his leg in her lap. “Don’t sound so shocked. Women do this all the time.”

 

     Cue the awe. Women willingly did this? Granted they have the curves, so they don’t need the torture device Hatsume had called a waist-trainer , but still. The idea of doing that every day sounded horrible.

 

     Hatsume clicked the last boot shut with a, “There we go!”

 

     She stood up and patted down her clothes, dust and soot coming off of her like her own personal ash from a volcano. She grabbed a little container and showed it to him.

 

     “These are contacts.” No shit Sherlock. “The sclera is black and the iris is a luminescent blue that will glow like a light when you press this button.” Damn those look badass. She held up a tiny container that looked like a can of spray paint, but was small enough to fit in his hands without being detected. When she pressed the button, the contacts lit up like someone seeing the love of their life.

 

     Putting them in was a whole new different story.

 

     To save you the trouble, we’ll just say Hatsume had to pin Midoriya down like the little sub he was, and put them in herself, ignoring the thrashing and crying. They weren’t that bad, so hush Midoriya.

 

     Fast forwards the whole Contact Problem would see Midorya pouting on a table with his arms and legs crossed like a petulant child. His eyes were red rimmed from crying but otherwise there was no other indication.

 

     What once was bright green was now a dark blue iris with lighter luminescent blue flecks and black sclera covering the rest of his eye. He has yet to have seen it, and he better look good because those were a PAIN to put in. Literally and figuratively.

 

     “C’mere Zu-chan. Come into the white room and I’ll take a picture.”

 

     He turned to look at her in confusion, before seeing the monkey wrench in her hand and deciding that he was not going to question her.

 

     He flicked his hair out of his face and pushed himself off of the table before almost breaking his ankle when he hit the ground much quicker than he was expecting too. Hatsume bursted out laughing.

 

     “Har har,” he huffed, throwing his hands out and wobbling over to Hatsume like a newborn fawn. She apparently thought this was hilarious, as her laughter doubled back twice as hard, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach as she fell back against the wall.

 

       “Keep laughing, don’t worry, I don’t have feelings.” He muttered, before his ankle gave out and he fell to the right with a, “Fuck-“ as his shoulder connected with one of the tables Hatsume just had laying around. He clung to the table like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the real world, his face probably way too scared for someone wearing heels for the first time, as he tried to get his feet to stay underneath him.

 

     He turned to Hatsume, and busted out laughing at her face. She had slid all the way to the ground, still clutching her stomach as her silent laughter shook her body, her face turning redder and redder until it was borderline blue. Tears were streaming down her face as she tried to gain her bearings one again.

 

     His laughter ended up making him loose his very hardly worked for balance, as he tipped over and fell on his bottom, the cushion that made him look like he had hips making sure he didn’t feel anything, and his shock was very clear on his face.

 

       “T-Tim-timber!” Hatsume wheezed, before they locked eyes and a new round of laughter sent them both rolling on the ground like it could give them the air they needed.

 

 

     After the Laughing Incident TM, Hatsume had gotten Midoriya safely into the white room, (which was exactly what it was, a room with white walls), she told him the secret to waking in heels.

 

       “Trust the heel.” Which was very helpful, thank you very much. But he had gotten the hand of it, and no longer looked like a fawn. He looked like a little girl wearing her mother’s nine inch platform heels for the first time, according to Hatsume. But, who listens to Hatsume anyways. (Cue Midorya pouting.)

 

     She dimmed the lights in the room after handing him his mask, and Midoriya was half expecting to hear that old song ‘Lets Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye  to start playing from hidden speakers.

 

     Half to his disappointment, it didn’t happen.

 

       “Alright, press the top button and pose for me.” She said, putting the camera up to her eyes to take the picture.

 

     Midoriya did as she said, slipping on the mask as well, before he put one leg in front of the other, one arm behind him and stuck his other one out, twisted just enough to see the small canister thing that held the button for his contacts.

 

       “You’re so boring,” she sighed. A click signified her taking the picture.

 

     He excitedly bounded over, ignoring the fact that he did that without tripping, and stuck his face in Hatsume’s camera.

 

     “Lemme see!” He cried, and Hatsume laughed while she tried putting the camera above his head. A flawed plan, since naturally, Midoriya is three inches taller than her, and including the three inch boots she made him, six inches. He snatched the camera like candy from a baby.

 

     He was shocked.

 

     It didn’t even look like him! It didn’t even look like a him. He turned to Hatsume.

 

       “This is me?!” She nodded, and he looked down at the picture again. “This isn’t me! I’m a man!” He cried.

 

       “Not it that suit you’re not. You’re a female vigilante by the name of Machiavellian.” Hatsume snickered. “Who wears a skimpy outfit to distract the criminals.”

 

     He screeched indignantly, and began chasing her around the room, screaming about how it was her idea.

 

     After he had calmed down, Hatsume walked him to The Wall.

 

       “Are you ready?” She asked, her weird canister in hand. He nodded.

 

       “Alrighty. Remember, you’re supposed to be making an appearance, so if you can, when taking down a criminal, let yourself be seen by a camera.” She handed him the canister. “You already know what the top button does, and the bottom one will give you a distraction if you get caught by Eraserhead. The other end will give you the Mark, just proceed as usual, okay?”

 

     He nodded again. Hatsume laughed,

 

     “What’s a matter? Cat got your tongue?”

 

       “Mei-chan, I’m nervous.” He admitted. She tilted her head to the side.

 

       “About what? You’ve never been seen before, let alone caught. What are you worried about?”

 

       “...I honestly don’t know. Thank you for that, Mei-chan.”

 

     She beamed. “No problem. Now, get out there and make your mark.”

 

     He nodded. “Thanks Mei-chan!” He called as he slipped between the wall and disappeared into the tunnels that would lead him to his great debut.

 

       This is gonna be great.

 

 

 

  

      

Chapter Text

     

 

     He really needed to stop jinxing himself.

 

     It had started as a normal night. Well, as normal as a criminal filled society could get. A few attempted muggings here and there, but the majority of people on the streets looked to be adults stumbling home drunk off their butts.

 

     Hatsume had put his camera detector in the black part of the mask covering his left eye, letting him see the camera’s with a pulsating light changing colors, but otherwise it was a normal thermal heat detector, while his right eye saw what everyone else saw.

 

     He had had a camera in his sights, it was sitting under the roof of a building overlooking an alley, and the way he had been sitting had him perfectly out of view. He had surveyed his area, and noticed the shady people walking out of a door in the alley, all hush-hush and peeking around at their surroundings.

 

     As if it had been cued, a woman walked by the alley, completely unaware of the men until she was slammed against the wall, one of their grimy hands smothering her cries for help.

 

       “Let’s have some fun sweetheart, what do you say? I need to blow off some steam.”

 

     Without any hesitation, he had jumped off the building, landing silently on his feet, (Eraserhead would be so jealous), but his movement had caught their attention.

 

       “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said, almost flinching at the highly feminine voice coming from his mouth.

 

     The man holding the woman snorted. “The fuck are you gonna do about it, huh? Cry to mommy? Get lost stupid bitch.”

 

     The other men snickered, as if he had said anything amusing, and for a split second, he saw a young blonde standing with his cronies, as they laughed and laughed and laughed

 

       “Hey!” One of the men yelled. “Didn’t you hear him? Fuck off, whore!”

 

     Wow. Women went through this?!

 

     Midoriya wasn’t a female, but he was this close to ripping their faces off with his goddamned nails

 

       “I’m going to give you three seconds to unhand her before-“

 

       “Before what, huh? What are you gonna do about it?” As if to accent what he was saying, he pressed the women closer to the wall, ignoring her whimpering, and exhaled hot air across her cheek.

 

     Midoriya had about five seconds to think of a plan before they did something to that woman.

 

     Easy.

 

     There were three of them. The one holding the woman was obviously in charge, the other two glanced at him for reassurance in their actions. The one on the left was wearing tight leather jeans, not efficient for fighting in cooler weather, and his right hand was hidden behind his back, probably to conceal a quirk or weapon. His thermal detector couldn’t see anything passed his body heat, so it was probably a weapon.

 

     The one on the right was wearing jeans, but leaned more to his right, as if he had injured his left or favored his right side more. His quirk maybe?

 

     Nope, his throat was lighting up a bright yellow in his thermal eye, electricity?

 

     Dear god, please not fire.

 

     Whatever it was, he was going to use it, and in that second, Midoriya would jump onto Glowstick and push him into the Leather Jeans, and Boss would let go of the girl to help them. If he shoved Glowstick hard enough in the shoulder, his head will fling back from the force and smash into Leather Jeans’, hopefully knocking them both out. If the woman was smart, she would take the hint and run away, and he could deal with Boss without worrying about hurting anyone.

 

       “I’m done with this skimpy bitch, light her up!” ...thank every deity above, it was electricity.

 

     As soon as AA Battery opened his mouth, Midoriya ducked down and jumped at the wall of the alley, hearing the shocked cries from the men.

 

     Yeah, like he was just going to stand there and become a lighting rod, no thanks.

 

     He tucked his legs underneath him, so when he hit the wall, it was with his feet and he could push himself off of it quickly.

 

     As soon as he was airborne, he twisted through the second shot of electricity and smashed straight into AA Battery’s chest, sending him clean into Leather Jeans. He landed lightly in a crouch, looking up in time to see the woman punch the shocked man in the face, turning and bolting out of the alley.

 

     She’s going to call the cops. He realized, eyes going wide with the urge to run, before the big boss stood up, popped his jaw back into place, and stepped in front of Midoriya, blocking what the man thought was his only exit.

 

     Like, seriously. I could kick you in the balls and run.

 

       “Well,” the man said, wincing at the pain from his broken jaw. “You got rid of my men pretty easily. This is not the little girl’s first time, is it?” He chuckled, his low timbre voice making Midoriya shudder.

 

     Ah, now he understood the feeling that girls talk about, when they encounter someone iffy and they feel like covering up. He’s been doing this for about six years, and in front of this man, he felt like crawling under a cardboard box and screaming, ‘I’m invisible, you can’t see me!’

 

     The man swept his hands out.

 

       “You could take down a quirkless man and an electric user! Congrats! They were stupid though, they didn’t recognize you knew what you were doing, that they didn’t have a sliver of a chance against you, did they, pretty one? It’s okay, I’ll finish you off, I’ll take that pretty smile off your face and keep it for myself!”

 

     Midoriya blinked.

 

     The audacity of this man.

 

     He thinks he can act all high and mighty because Machiavellian was a girl? Thought he could scare the vigilante into submission? Ohhh, he was so on.

 

       “You can’t even see my face, so you wouldn’t know if I was smiling or not. I’ll tell you, I’m baring my teeth in disgust. Besides, what makes you think you have a chance against me?”

 

     He needed to finish this quickly. This was caught on camera, so someone would be over soon. Didn’t help that that women probably ran to the nearest police station.

 

     The man laughed. “I have a chance because I will take your quirk from you!” Midoriya blinked. Is this guy serious?

 

       “I’ll take that pretty Quirk from you, leave you a defenseless, useless, quirkless,”

 

     Deku.

 

       “Nobody. I’ll crush your head in while you beg for mercy, I might even take that pretty suit off of you and have my way-“ Midoriya jerked forwards and punched him in the face.

 

     The man’s body collapsed to the floor, out cold, a heavy thunk that made Midoriya snicker. He couldn’t believe people went through that. He couldn’t believe someone would stand there and ignore it.

 

     He shook his head, he didn’t want to think about how far Hero’s strayed from true heroism, how corrupt society became since the first kid was born with a quirk.  He didn’t want to think about how he could have been considered normal if he had just been born much earlier.

 

     He pulled all three men into the center of the alley and propped them up against each other, side to side like a triangle. He took some of the rope he had in his square pockets and tied all of them together by the wrists. He didn’t have to worry about them breaking out since the police would be there momentarily.

 

     Then he took out the canister Hatsume had given him and turned it upside down, pressing down on the button until the bottom lit up a dull red. He then pressed it to the first man’s shirt, held it there for three seconds, and moved to the next man, until a nice, shiny, silver ‘M’ sat nicely on all of their chests.

 

     Then his secondary ultimate move.

 

     He pulled out a green bow that usually went on birthday gifts, and placed it on the boss’ head. Then he took out two smaller ones, red and yellow, and placed it on the AA Battery guy and Leather Jeans, respectively.

 

     Red was for the most dangerous quirk, green was something you had to watch out for, and yellow just meant they were there for the ride.

 

     He stood up, brushing off imaginary dust and pulling down his bottom mask to spit in the direction of the criminals, before remembering that he was being recorded. He slid his changer back on and shrugged. Whoops.

 

     His shoulders tensed when he heard someone running, and he knew it wasn’t the police. He turned around and darted out of the camera’s line of sight, slipping into the shadows more than he thought he would be able to with his outfit.

 

     Hidden in the safety of the shadows, he ripped off the extra layer he had on his gloves, exposing a quiet but sticky substance that would help him climb vertical walls like an amphibian.

 

     It had a name, but he didn’t bother to listen when Hatsume went on a rant about it. All he heard was, “-Gecko-“ and immediately started picturing himself with the body of a gecko.

 

     Yeah, that was fun.

 

     He leaned down and did the same for the tips of his boots, and jumped onto the wall, sticking there like he had fallen against the floor, not a vertical wall.

 

     He felt so stupid like this, a human acting like a gecko, or a spider, or an ant, and neither of those comparisons made him feel any better.

 

     He began to quickly work his way up, but stilled when he heard someone drop to the floor behind him.

 

     He tilted his head to the side, cautious of any light that could reflect off his mask, and saw just who he didn’t want to see him while he was impersonating an animal.

 

       “About how long ago did she disappear?” Eraserhead asked, talking into his phone and apparently looking for someone.

 

     The tired hero walked around the three guys, his scarf shifting on his shoulders, checking for signs of life and making sure they were tied up tight. The hero tilted his head to the side as he listened to what the other person on the phone was saying.

 

      “Well if it was only a couple of seconds ago, she couldn’t have gotten far, could she?”

 

     Who were they talking about? The woman? Did she not make it to the police station? Midoriya leaned closer, still cautious of his mask, and looked around to see if he could spot any other police officers.

 

       “We are talking about a well-known vigilante here, but she still shouldn’t be able to disappear that quickly. Maybe it’s her quirk?”

 

     Holy crap.

 

     They were talking about him! Midoriya’s eyes widened with the realization, and Eraserhead began slowly surveying his surroundings, as if Midoriya was an amateur and he left something to track his trail.

 

     Midoriya jolted. He left himself. What an amateur, gosh. He moved as quickly as he could without jerking his movements and giving his spot away, slowly making his way to the roof of the building. He knew that as soon as he made it close enough to the top, he would have to bolt because the light would give his figure away.

 

     Once he could touch the edge with his fingers, he turned to look down to locate the hero, and bit back a squeak. The hero was staring directly into his eyes.

 

       “Yeah,” He said into his phone. “Found her.”

 

     ...well crud.

 

     Like a godsend, AA Battery chose that moment to jerk to life, and Eraserhead spun around at the sound.

 

       “What the-“ He started, before using his capture weapon to tie up the guy, ignoring his useless struggling and cursing, he erased his quirk, and knocked him back out cold. He whipped around to look at the last spot Machiavellian had been in, and cursed when he couldn’t spot her figure.

 

     He turned around and glared at the man who made him lose the vigilante. As if he could feel his glare, the man shifted in his unconsciousness and whined. Eraserhead sighed, and sent his location to Tsukauchi, for officers to pick up the the men, and to see if he could find anything Machiavellian left behind.

 

 

     Midoriya would love to say, that when Eraserhead turned around to recapture AA Battery, he pulled himself over the roof, ran a couple of buildings down, flipped off the side, and disappeared into the darkness like the anomaly he was, forever hidden from the corrupt society he called home. ....but that didn’t happen.

 

     Yes, he pulled himself over the edge of the building, and sprinted across, thankful that whatever Hatsume made his boots with, they were completely silent, but instead of flipping off the edge like a badass and disappearing, he’s shameful to say that he tripped.

 

       Off the side of the building.

 

     ...yeah.

 

       He didn’t shriek, because that’s super girly, and he wasn’t girly at all. It was a manly war cry, you hear him? A war cry as he fell jumped off of the building.

 

     He twisted himself to land on his feet, but he hit something surprisingly soft and he collapsed to the floor on top of... another person.

 

       “Shit- wait- crap!” He cried as he jumped off the person, his voice changer cracking as it struggled to make his voice higher as he squeaked.

 

       “Are you okay?!” The woman groaned, and shifted onto her side, before stilling with an exhale.

 

       “Oh god!” He shrieked, his voice changer making it sound like a voice crack as it shifted to his normal voice for a split second. “Did I kill you? Are you okay?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

 

     He leaned down and ripped one of his gloves off, pressing two fingers to the woman’s neck, and relaxing when he felt a pulse.

 

     A chuckle rang out from behind him.

 

     He shrieked made a very manly sound and jumped up, spinning around to see who was behind him. It was a boy. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie and black pants, reminding Midoriya of his outfit before he was Machiavellian. His black cat mask just gave him away.

 

       “Puppeteer!” He said, his voice practically grating on his own ears. “Umm... hi?”

 

     Puppeteer chuckled again, and it sent blood to his cheeks, unlike the way the other man had made him recoil in disgust. He gestured to the woman knocked out cold.

 

       “Seems as if you finished my work for me.” He said, and my god, he had a deep voice. It took a second for Midoriya to register what he said, mind still spinning from the velvety smoothness that caressed his ears.

 

       “Oh!” He said, turning to look at the girl. She had a noticeable bruise growing on her cheek, where Midoriya’s boots had dug into his face, and he was shocked to see that it wasn’t cut open or bleeding.

 

       “I’m sorry, I.... kinda fell.” There was that chuckle again.

 

       “I noticed.”

 

     There was a moment of silence, where neither of them knew what to say, before Puppeteer nodded to the girl.

 

       “My quirk won’t work on someone who is unconscious. You’re going to have to take the credit for this one.” Even though Midoriya couldn’t see it, he could’ve sworn the other vigilante smirked.

 

       “After all, you did swoop in at take him off my hands.”

 

     Midoriya groaned, pressing his gloved hand to his mask, as if he could erase the moment from his mind forever. “That moment is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

 

     Puppeteer laughed. Midoriya ignored the way shivers raced up his spine and turned toward the downed woman.

 

     He slipped his glove back on, pulled out the canister and flipped it over, before pressing the button and waiting until it heated a nice gold instead of red. He wanted this one to shine prettily.

 

     He leaned over and pressed it to the woman’s shirt, holding it for three seconds before pulling it back and flipping the off button, marveling in the way this M seemed to shimmer like a sparkling sea. He pulled out a small amount of rope after slipping the canister into his pocket, and tied the woman’s hands together.

 

     Searching the walls, he saw a camera hidden in a small shadow between the two buildings and heaved a sigh.

 

     Hatsume would find that video and she’d have more blackmail material.

 

       “Why so down?” Puppeteer asked, his voice much closer than Midoriya expected.

 

       “There’s a camera hidden in between those two buildings, but I’ll have my... friend... delete the footage if you want to stay under wraps.” He pointed in the general direction of the camera.

 

       “Now, what kind of quirk did this woman have?”

 

     Puppeteer was silent for a moment, “She could turn her fingers into blades.”

 

     Midoriya paused, a child’s face flitting across his memory, before he pulled out a green bow and began taking the wraps off to place it onto the man’s head.

 

       “Are you really Spider?”

 

     Midoriya stilled for a moment, before continuing his bow making skills. “Yes.”

 

     Puppeteer hummed. “Really? The last I remembered, Spider was a boy.” ...well shit.

 

       “You do know that taking credit for someone else’s work is the lowest a vigilante can sink, right? Who are you too-“ He cut Puppeteer off mid-rant, by pulling his voice changer around his neck and turning it off.

 

       “I know what work is mine, thank you very much.”

 

     Puppeteer stumbled back, probably not expecting Midoriya’s normal, deep voice. Well, deeper than the high-pitched female voice the changer made.

 

       “You... what—?”

 

       “I am Spider, but I changed my costume and name to— you know what, follow me, it’ll be easier to show you than to explain.” He turned on his heel, and walked towards the fire exit stairs, slipping his voice changer back over his mouth and turning it on.

 

       “You coming?” He asked, probably giving the poor vigilante whiplash on how quickly his voice changed. He heard footsteps starting behind him, and he continued walking.

 

     They made their way up the stairs silently, and Midoriya was able to survey the street lay out, quickly trying to figure out where Hatsume’s Base was located. He needed to be quick, he wasn’t that far from Eraserhead when he fell—

 

     As if it had been cued, a scarf wrapped around his foot and tugged him back. Midoriya fell forwards, slamming into the ground with the a loud bang, as the metal creaked under the unexpected weight.

 

     He groaned as he was dragged backwards, towards the pissed off underground hero.

 

       “Eraserhead! So nice of you to join us!” He said after the hero lifted him in his scarfs, his voice sounding more tired than the chipper tone he was going for.

 

     His eye twitched under his goggles, Midoriya would bet a hundred dollars on it.

 

       “What are you doing?” Puppeteer asked behind him. Eraserhead turned to the boy.

 

       “Puppeteer—“

 

       “Release Machiavellian, take the woman to the station, and forget what Puppeteer looks like. Understand, I really didn’t want to do this.”

 

     Amazingly, Eraserhead released Midoriya, the boy thumping to the ground on his padded behind, and turned around, walking towards where the female-looking vigilante tied the criminal up.

 

     Midoriya whipped around to look at Puppeteer, and saw the boy shift uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck, like he was expecting a backlash.

 

       “...that was so badass.” Puppeteer’s head jerked up, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction.

 

       “...what?”

 

     Midoriya stood up and brushed imaginary dust off of his suit, ignoring the irritation when his fake breasts got in the way. He walked over to the edge and continued looking for Hatsume’s base.

 

       “I said that’s badass. Knowing current society though, you were probably persecuted and bullied for something you couldn’t help but be.”

 

     Puppeteer was silent. “...and what am I?”

 

     Midoriya snorted. “Fucking badass.”

 

     He spotted the base, and turned towards the other vigilante, ready to state the news, before being startled to see him wiping his eyes.

 

       “Sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on his tears. “I’ve never had a good reaction to my quirk.”

 

       “Oh.” Freaking genius. “You’ll make an awesome hero.”

 

     Puppeteer seemed to curl into himself, shaking with suppressed sobs.

 

       “Oh, please don’t cry.” Midoriya said, starting to panic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, god I’m sorry—“ Puppeteer lurched forwards and pulled Midoriya into a hug.

 

     Midoriya tensed at first, before relaxing and wrapping his arms around the crying boy. He was irritated to say that even with his three inch boots, the boy was still taller than him. When he took off the boots, the boy would tower over him. After the vigilante had gotten all of his tears out of his system, Midoriya led him to Hatsume’s hidden warehouse.

 

     Standing outside the rickety old building, Puppeteer whistled.

 

       “If you wanted me alone in a dark building, you should’ve just asked.” Midoriya choked, before shoving him.

 

       “Shut up.” He said, thankful that the mask hid his practically glowing cheeks.

 

     Puppeteer chuckled, before following Midoriya as he walked around to the side of the building, thankful that it was dark and no one was out. He pulled back the window and slipped in, moving to the side so the taller boy go squeeze in too.

 

       “Creepy.” Puppeteer whispered, shuddering when his whisper echoed across the abandoned building. Midoriya nodded.

 

       “There is a device in here that makes it seem like the shadows are chasing you, but it’s just to scare off delinquents. If you come by often, which you probably will, I’ll add you to the system and you won’t be affected by it.” Puppeteer audibly gulped.

 

     He followed silently as Midoriya made his was to the trap door, flinching at the movement of it opening. He stared down into the hole.

 

       “Hell no.” He said, taking a step back. Midoriya sighed.

 

       “I’ll go in first, but you have to follow me. The shadows aren’t bad because I’m standing next to you, but as soon as I leave, you’ll piss your pants.”

 

       “The shadows aren’t bad?!” Puppeteer hissed, glancing around at his surroundings like he expected something to jump out at him. “I’m three seconds away from knocking you out, because I swear to god you’re going to murder me.”

 

     Midoriya groaned, before reaching out and yanking the taller boy into the hole. He went as quietly as a raging bull. Midoriya dropped down behind him, silently closing the trap door.

 

     When he turned, Puppeteer punched him in the arm. Hard.

 

       “Ow! What was that for?!” He whined, rubbing the spot that was going to bruise.

 

       “For scaring the shit out of me, that’s what!” Puppeteer hissed, seemingly still affected by Hatsume’s shadow device.

 

     Midoriya huffed. “Fine. Guess I deserved that. Follow me.”

 

     Ignoring Puppeteer’s, “What do you think I’m doing?” He walked down the hallway, and turned after his hand grazed the second wall, hearing the boy pause behind him, before following him down the dark corridor. Once they reached the ladder leading back up, Midoriya motioned the other boy towards it.

 

       “Once you get up there, don’t move.” The boy stared at him, making sure he wasn’t going to pull a gun or anything, before grabbing the ladder and making his way to the top.

 

     After a quick look around, straining his ears to hear, and only picking up on Puppeteers’ quickening heart beat, he climbed up the ladder and turned towards the button. He pressed it, feeling bad when Puppeteer jerked backwards at the movement. He gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him in.

 

       “The wall is going to shut.” He warned, clutching the boy’s wrist tighter when he tensed. True to his word, the wall slid shut and they were encased in darkness.

 

     Before he other boy’s breathing could pick up from panic, the wall across from them slid open, bringing blindingly bright light that had the boy in blue cringing away.

 

     Midoriya waited until he was somewhat used to the light, before dragging him into the warehouse.

 

     He let go of his wrist once he made it in, because he knew what it was like to see everything strewn about for the first time. It was more than shocking.

 

     He made his way towards the middle of the warehouse, where Hatsume had wrestled him into his suit a while ago, and waited for Hatsume to realize he was there.

 

     The door down the hallway across form him slammed open.

 

     He could practically see Puppeteer jump, even though the boy was somewhere behind him.

 

       “Zu-chan!” Hatsume cried, thankfully looking like she had showered. “You’re back!! How did my suit work—“ Midoriya saw the exact moment she saw the other vigilante.

 

     Her eyes widened as her smile slipped of her face. She opened her mouth and reached towards the table, probably to grab a monkey wrench or something else that would hurt, but Midoriya cut her off.

 

     “Hatsume,” she paused at the sound of her surname and glanced at him.

 

       “This is Puppeteer, he knew that Spider was a boy.” Her eyes widened.

 

     She had had access to all of the cameras, due to her vast understanding of technology, hacking came as a second way of breathing, and she still hadn’t known what gender Midoriya was.

 

       “So you admit that you’re not Spider?” Puppeteer’s voice rang out, and Hatsume shivered.

 

     Midoriya felt smug, a smirk growing on his face, thankfully hidden by his mask. She would go through the same thing he did.

 

       “What do you mean?” She asked, and Midoriya bit back the urge to snigger. She knew what he meant, she just wanted to hear him talk again.

 

       “I mean,” he started, coming to a stop beside Midoriya, his hood down, showing his wild dark hair. “That Machiavellian isn’t Spider. Spider was a boy.”

 

     Hatsume shivered again. This time, the boy seemed to notice it.

 

       “Are you cold?” He asked, so, so oblivious of what his voice was doing to the other people in the room.

 

       “No,” Midoriya said, deciding to let Hatsume catch her breath as he took off his mask.

 

       “Your voice is just pleasing to listen too.” The boy didn’t seem to know what to say at that, but he stared at Midoriya as he took of his voice changer as well.

 

       “Mei-chan, I need help getting out of this.” Ahh, the luxury of hearing his own voice was something he took for granted.

 

     Said girl jolted out of whatever funk she as in, and walked over to Midoriya, kneeling down to take off his boots as he sat on a table.

 

       “My voice is pleasing?” Puppeteer asked, as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around that fact.

 

       “Very.” Hatsume said, not bothering to look at him as she set the boots to the side, and began sliding Midoriya’s knee pads off.

 

     The tall boy looked at Midoriya, but the boy shrugged, he wasn’t going to deny it. Once he had taken off his elbow pads and sleeves, Midoriya slid off the table and sat down on the ground so Hatsume could pull his shirt over his head.

 

     As soon as she unhooked the bottom from his pants and began pulling it up, Puppeteer made a squeaking noice from the back of his throat and whirled around, covering his eyes.

 

       “A little warning next time!” He cried, flustered at the thought of seeing a woman topless.

 

     Hatsume bursted out laughing, knowing exactly where the boy’s mind had went, leaving Midoriya to sit in confusion.

 

       “What am I missing?” He asked, but was completely ignored.

 

     Once Hatsume had caught her breath a few seconds later, she continued pulling Midoriya’s shirt off his head, ignoring the strangled cat noises he was making.

 

       “My name is Hatsume Mei,” she said, tugging harder at the shirt that got caught over Midoriya’s head, still ignoring his dying cat sounds.

 

       “I’m an inventor, and I created this outfit so a boy could crossdress and slip under the radar as a girl.” The shirt came off and Midoriya clutched at the ground, his undershirt sticking to his muscles as he began sucking in huge gulps of breath as if she had been strangling him.

 

       “My name is Akatani Midori. I am a crossdressing vigilante. Oh my god, that sounds so bad.”

 

     Puppeteer slowly turned around, and relaxed once he saw that Midoriya was breast-free.

 

       “Hatsume-san called you ‘Zu-chan’. Where does the nickname come from?” The two best friends froze. He was smarter than he looked.

 

       Hatsume shifted uneasily. Midoriya’s backstory was not something to be taken lightly. She had cried so hard, and held the boy for a while when she first heard it. Midoriya sighed when Puppeteer tensed, seemingly picking up on the sudden tension in the room.

 

       “You haven’t unlocked Tragic Backstory yet, so please ignore it for now.” Puppeteer slowly nodded, and Midoriya motioned for Hatsume to help him with his pants.

 

     They were much easier to take off then they were to put on, but Midoriya made sure Hatsume knew all of his complaints.

 

     Puppeteer took off his mask.

 

     They turned to look at him, as he opened his mouth to speak.

 

       “My name is Shinsou Hitoshi. My quirk is called Brainwashing. If someone answers my question, I can do anything I want to them, including giving commands and implanting thoughts and feelings. My quirk is a freak mutation. My mother could control bubbles that came out of her sneezes, and my father could manipulate colors. Imagine their shock when their child got a villain’s quirk.” He chuckled, but it lacked the teasing warmth that had made the two best friends flush.

 

     Now, it just sounded empty, bitter.

 

       “I was put up for adoption at age four, and every orphanage they moved me too makes me wear a muzzle, so I don’t influence any of them to do my will.” So I don’t hurt anyone like the villain they think I am, went unsaid.

 

     It was silent for exactly three seconds.

 

       “You’d trust us this early in?” Hatsume whispered, and Shinsou let out a small smile.

 

       “If us vigilantes can’t stick together, who will have our backs when we fall?”

 

     Midoriya sighed. This boy had a point.

 

       “My name...” Shinsou looked at him, probably confused. He took a deep breath, and Hatsume put her hand on his shoulder.

 

       “My name is Midoriya Izuku.”

 

     Shinsou’s eye’s practically popped off his face.

 

       “I was declared quirkless at the age of four, useless at the age of five, dead at the age of nine. A villain attacked my mother’s apartment complex, as you know. His fire got to a gas tank and the explosion sent me to a far away alley, crushed under some rubble. I woke up a few days later after someone took me in. He still visits me, says that taking care of me was his payment for not being able to save his brother. He helped me find my mother’s hospital room, but when I looked through the window, she was crying while Endeavor told her that her son had been burned alive.”

 

     He took a shuddering breath, and ignored the tears pooling in Shinsou’s eyes.

 

       “The person who helped me find her comforted me, and helped me get a job to buy hair dye, so she could move on. I wasn’t in the right mind in that time. I was the useless, worthless, quirkless Deku, and I thought that if everyone believed I was dead, they would be happier. That’s when I became the vigilante Spider. My... my mother was being mugged, and people just walked past her, ignoring her screaming for help. I just... my legs moved before I could even stop to think about hiding who I was. I helped her, and ran away, but it felt so good, to be a hero. To be something that everyone said I couldn’t be. I was Spider for a long time, before the police staged a murder to try and capture me.”

 

     Shinsou’s tears spilled over his cheeks.

 

       “I knew they weren’t dead, I could hear their heartbeat, but I couldn’t help but find the situation amusing. I couldn’t even be mad. I was doing the same thing. Pretending to be dead, lying to the mass of people, and manipulating to get what I want. I ran away from the scene, and ran into another problem... A boy who was my worst tormenter when I was declared quirkless, he was the victim in the Sludge Villain Attack. I got him out, moved without thinking. Did you know All Might himself told me I couldn’t be a hero? And yet, I was the only one who helped, despite all the hero’s on the scene. I had a nickname for him, and it just slipped out, before I could stop it. I ran. I ran so fast, I didn’t want to see his face, the look when he realized that quirkless Deku was still alive.”

 

     A sob escaped Shinsou’s mouth, despite the two hands he had presse against it.

 

       “Mei-chan and I weren’t that close before then, I was the vigilante and she was the inventor. I was the test subject, she was the scientist. After that, she was the only person holding me up from sinking. She was my raft boat against my sea of fears and depression. She gave me a new name, Machiavellian, and today, she created my outfit. She is my everything, and now that you know my sad backstory, you’re going to join in and make her raft boat stronger than ever.” Shinsou was sobbing, and Midoriya felt guilty.

 

     The first time he told Hatsume his past, she cried just as hard. Shinsou lurched forwards and crushed the smaller boy against his chest, shaking as he tried to suppress the agony Midoriya was letting off in waves.

 

       “I’m s-so sorry.” Shinsou sobbed. “I’ll help you. We’re all stuck together now.”

 

     And that was that.

 

     Hatsume wasn’t a big touchy person, but she held the two of them for a good five minutes, before going off and putting Midoriya’s uniform away.

 

     After a bit, Shinsou’s shoulders stopped shaking and he was just holding Midoriya against his chest, enjoying the warmth the other boy provided.

 

       “I have an apartment.”

 

     Shinsou pulled back, and looked down at the smaller boy in confusion.

 

     Midoriya had a look of determination in his eyes, like he was working towards something he wanted, and wasn’t stopping anytime soon in his pursuit.

 

       “Um... congrats?” Shinsou was so confused.

 

     Apparently it was obvious, because Midoriya let out a chuckle, the vibrations from his chest making Shinsou jolt. It has been so long since he’s heard warm laughter for him.

 

     Midoriya had been bullied for being quirkless, and that was terrible, but Shinsou had been outright ignored.

 

     People walked around him, spoke over him when he was talking, ignored him when he spoke to them, and had no problem talking shit on him when he was in the room. He’s heard laughter, when he was sitting behind the door of his broom closet while the kids played around. Despite him being the ‘villain’, all of the kids had been too afraid to laugh at him, touch him, talk to him, anything. Scared he would force them to kill themselves or anything else a villain would do. He has never experienced good feelings since he was four, until today. He was emotional, don’t blame him.

 

       “I’m saying this, because you’re going to live with me.”

 

     ...What?

 

       “What?” He said, shocked.

 

       “We’re going to your orphanage, you’re getting your things, and you’re living with me. I don’t have a second bedroom, but I have a giant bed, and we can make it work.”

 

     Tears welled up in Shinsou’s eyes. He laughed, and wiped them away.

 

       “That eager to get me into your bed, huh?” Midoriya grinned.

 

       “You know it—“

 

       “Why are you willing to help me?”

 

       “You have gone through something similar to me. I want to help you get to where you want to be, wether that’s happiness or the number one hero.” More tears spilled out of Shinsou’s eyes.

 

       “You don’t have an ulterior motive?”

 

       “No.”

 

     He released the boy from his quirk, and he blinked in shock, before Shinsou grabbed his arms.

 

       “I’m sorry!” He cried. “I-I just needed to be sure! You understand right? P-people like me are s-so cynical. P-please forgive me!”

 

     Midoriya was silent, before Shinsou felt him reach up, and he flinched, fearing the worst, but the boy just brushed his tears away.

 

       “You’re lucky you weren’t planning to hurt me.”

 

     Shinsou sniffed. “Why?” Midoriya chucked.

 

       “Because Mei-chan is standing behind you with one of her tool boxes, three seconds away from killing you.”

 

     Shinsou instantly whipped around, and sure enough, Hatsume was standing a few steps away, her legs spread out, with a black tool box raised above her head, a few seconds away from coming down hard.

 

     She had the decency to look embarrassed.

 

       “In my defense, I came in and he had you under his quirk, what was I supposed to think?”

 

     Shinsou laughed, and he felt a shiver go down Midoriya’s body. He spared the boy a glance, and turned back to see Hatsume putting her tool box down on a table a few feet away, completely silent.

 

       “How are you so quiet?” He asked, legitimately confused.

 

       “She likes to try and sneak up on me,” Midoriya laughed. “My years living on the streets as a vigilante gave me killer senses, but she likes to try her hand every once in a while.”

 

       “Seriously,” Hatsume said. “Once, when we were younger and playing hide and seek, I hid in a cupboard in a backroom. This boy walks in, knocks on the cupboard and says, ‘I know you’re in there, you can’t hide from me’ and it was the creepiest thing ever.”

 

     Midoriya shrugged, “Not my fault your guy’s heartbeats are so loud.”

 

     Shinsou stared at the smaller boy. “That’s fucking creepy.”

 

       “Well,” Hatsume said, stretching her arms above her head, “My parents are coming home from their business trip in a few hours, so I better get back. I’ll text you guys when I can supervise your outing, okay?”

 

       “Okay! See you later Mei-chan!” Midoriya chirped.

 

       “Goodbye, Hatsume-san.” Shinsou said, before Hatsume waved her hand at him.  

 

       “Call me Mei, or come up with your own nickname. Goodnight guys!” She turned on her heel, and with one last wave, she slipped through the back door. The one Midoriya was forbidden to use, because it led to a female’s bathroom stall in the decaying building.

 

    Midoriya stood up. “C’mon. We gotta go to your orphanage to get your stuff.”

 

     Shinsou smiled. “Yeah.”

Chapter Text

 

     Midoriya Izuku was a vigilante.

 

     That means that he had something shitty happen to him and made him realize that heros are corrupt, but instead of that shitty thing making him hate heros, it made him want to be better than them.

 

     Right now, he knew why villains became villains.

 

     Shinsou had led him to his orphanage, about a twenty minute walk from base, and as soon as he walked into the living room, it went silent.

   

     Apparently, kids didn’t have a bedtime once they hit their teens, so there were quite a bit of teenagers laying around, talking and laughing.

 

     As soon as Shinsou pulled the door open, it was as if someone hit the mute button.

 

     Shinsou walked further into the orphanage, kids getting up to move out of his way, never looking at him or acknowledging that he was there besides shifting out of his way.

 

     Midoriya was three seconds from going Villain mode and murdering everyone in the building, but he did his best to ignore everyone.

 

     Until someone shoved him.

 

      Oh, fuck no.

 

     He whirled around, ready to go off on someone, and saw a red-headed girl standing there, looking relieved.

 

       “You can leave now,” she said, her voice melodic, as if she were singing a song. It was probably something to do with her quirk.

 

     He cocked his head to the side and squared his shoulders.

 

       “Excuse me?”

 

       “You’re not under the villain’s control anymore. You can leave.”

 

      Was this bitch serious?!

 

     Midoriya was going to fucking murder this hoe.

 

     Never let it be said that Midoriya Izuku wasn’t protective over his friends. After their bonding moment in base, Shinsou was added onto that list.

 

       “Mac— Akatani,” Shinsou said, and Midoriya practically hissed when everyone in the room flinched. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”

 

     Melodic bitch stepped forwards, and tried to put her hand on Midoriya’s arm. He jerked away, into Shinsou’s side.

 

     I think the fuck not.

 

     The entire room held their breath, as if they were waiting for Shinsou to snap and kill someone.

 

     They should be worrying about me. I have an alibi, two names, and a large shovel in the closet.

 

       “What makes you think he’s controlling me?” He asked, his voice calm, smooth, like the tone your guardians use when you’ve so massively fucked up they can’t even bring themselves to yell.

 

     The girl shifted uneasily, not liking the danger lurking in his voice, before flipping her hair over one shoulder and resting her hands on her hips.

 

       “Because that’s what villains do.”

 

       “You would know wouldn’t you?” Midoriya snarled, a high pitched, inhuman sound, and reveled in the way the girl stumbled back, terror written on her face. Thank you, Stendhal, for teaching me your ways of intimidation. “All you have to do is look in the mirror and you see one, don’t you?”

 

     The girl was trembling as Midoriya stalked up to her, the waves of his fury becoming almost tangible until the tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

 

     He came to a stop in front of her, glaring at her, before throwing his hand out to the side, like he was slicing something with his hand, and grinned when the girl screamed.

 

     Something sour assaulted his nose.

 

     He looked down, and sure enough, the girl had urine running down her trembling legs as it formed a puddle beneath her.

 

     He slowly looked back into her eyes, before pulling his lips back to bare his sharp canines at her, sucking air in through his teeth to make a high pitched hissing sound, something that sounded like it should come straight from the mouth of a snake, not a human.

 

     He should probably feel bad, intimidating all of Shinsou’s old orphanage peers-? People?- but the knowledge that Shinsou had went through this his entire life since he was four, was enough to piss him off and make him want to see them suffer.

 

     And this is why he’s a vigilante, not a hero. A hero would never revel in the fear they’ve caused, that’s something a villain would do. It’s a good thing a vigilante is the grey line between white and black.

 

     Shinsou gently grabbed Midoriya’s arm, and pulled him away.

 

     As Shinsou tugged him towards his room, he bared his teeth at everyone staring at him, and channeled his inner villain, “You can’t run from me.

 

     Everyone believed him.

 

     Shinsou pulled him into his room, and shut the door behind him. “Midoriya—“

 

       “It’s Izuku, or your own nickname.” He said, turning to survey Shinsou’s extremely empty, small room.

 

     He was trying extremely hard to put his emotions into check, to make sure he didn’t go back and show them exactly why people feared his name.

 

       “Sweetheart.” Midoriya choked on air, and whirled around in time to see Shinsou throw his head back and laugh, the baritone sound filling the room up with his joy.

 

     He could hear the kids in the living room quiet down, as if they couldn’t believe Shinsou could laugh.

 

       “It works for me,” Midoriya said, and it was his turn to laugh when Shinsou choked on his laughter. The taller boy smirked.

 

       “Alright then.” He walked over to his closet, opened it, and pulled out a backpack, slipping the straps over his shoulders, and nodding. “I’m ready.”

 

     Midoriya blinked, perplexed.

 

       “That’s it? You don’t need anything else?” Shinsou nodded.

 

       “Nothing else is mine. I’ve been ready to leave since I first got here.”

 

     Midoriya nodded, he understood that.

 

     When he was first separated from his mother, he had bought a similar yellow backpack, and made sure everything he owned could fit in it, so he could leave at a moments notice. He never liked settling in one place, because it felt like he was accepting the fact that he no longer felt the need for his mother. His caretaker had snatched his backpack, put everything inside into his apartment, and burned it.

 

     It seems harsh, but Midoriya had been in denial. He had refused to believe that Inko had given up on him, and his caretaker had seen that. He decided to get rid of the only think that kept Midoriya strung on empty hopes, which was his backpack. He had held the young boy as he cried, finally understanding that Inko had accepted his death and had moved on.

 

     He beamed at Shinsou. “Then let’s get you out of here.” He flung open the door with a flourish, reveling in the way the kids all fell silent.

 

     He swaggered into the living room, loving the way the kids tensed in fear.

 

     He jerked his thumb at Shinsou. “I’m taking him with me. No objections?”

 

     All of the kids stared at him, incredulous.

 

       “None.” Someone piped up from the huddle of boys sitting in the corner.

 

     Midoriya bared his teeth and hissed like a snake, everyone flinching at the sound.

 

       “Good. Because I wasn’t asking.”

 

     He turned around and held his hand out to Shinsou. The boy was fighting tears, Midoriya could tell but he still reached out and took his hand. Midoriya smiled.

 

       “Finally leaving, you monster?”

 

     Shinsou flinched.

 

     Midoriya turned to see melodic bitch standing in the way of the door, with brand new pants.

 

     Bitch, please, I could snap you in half and run.

 

       “No, because you’re still here. Do you have your big girl pants on now? Or do you still need diapers?” He taunted.

 

     He would feel bad about being so childish later, but right now, there was only anger. Some of the kids snickered. Her face flushed red, clashing horribly with her hair.

 

       “Why are you calling me the villain?!” She cried, and she may have a melodic voice, but it was grating against Midoriya’s ears, and he was getting increasingly irritated. “The brainwasher is standing behind you!”

 

     Midoriya was in front of her before anyone in the room could even blink.

 

      Control, control, she’s just a kid, just a kid, justakid

 

     He snatched her arm before she could stumble away, and leaned in, letting a pleasant smile slip onto his face.

 

       “You listen here and you listen good.” She opened her mouth to object, but he dug his fingernails into her arm and snarled at her. “Shinsou Hitoshi will be nothing short of an amazing hero. All of you will sit here and cry your fucking eyes out when he appears on TV at Yuuei, because you’ll have tormented a hero your entire pathetic lives. I hope all of you suck on his victory and fucking choke.”

 

     He stepped back, disgusted when all he could smell was urine, and bared his teeth at the kids in Shinsou’s old orphanage.

 

       “Have a pleasant fucking life.”

 

     He gently grabbed Shinsou’s hand, and began tugging him towards the entrance, baring his teeth at anyone who looked at them in the wrong way.

 

     The lady who worked there didn’t speak a word to him when he said he was taking Shinsou away. She just nodded, handed him his paperwork, and shredded anything that said he had lived there.

 

     Shinsou had his face buried in the crook of his elbow the entire time, but Midoriya couldn’t tell wether he was laughing or crying.

 

     He lifted his head once they were out of the building, and tears were streaming down his face, but he was grinning.

 

     Midoriya smiled back, and in that moment, he felt as if everything would be okay.

 

 

     Standing on the stairs of his apartment, he decided that everything was not going to be okay.

 

       “What’s wrong?” Shinsou asked, the tears having dried on his face quickly after leaving the orphanage.

 

     Midoriya shifted. “I have a neighbor who’s homophonic, and I hear him walking around his apartment. I think he’s waiting for me to show up.”

 

       “Oh.” He said. “Do you want me to go ba-“

 

       “Don’t finish that sentence,” Midoriya said, turning to face the other boy. “I offered you a place to stay, and I’m not backing down because my neighbor wants to be annoying. I just didn’t want you to deal with him right after dealing with the assholic orphans.” Shinsou nodded.

 

       “That makes sense.” His eyes narrowed. “Speaking of which, you had quite the mouth and intimidating aura on you. Want to explain that?” Midoriya shrugged, sheepish.

 

     He turned and began walking up the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

        “I don’t know, I just get super protective when my friends are being threatened, you know? I did the same thing for Hatsume, and I’ll keep doing it until the entire world knows you two cannot be touched.”

 

       “What if I want to be touched?” Shinsou asked, letting his voice drop down to his vigilante tone, knowing it would send shivers down the boy’s spine.

 

     He wasn’t disappointed.

 

       “Then I guess you’ll just have to make due with my hands.” Midoriya grinned as Shinsou flushed, still unaccustomed to someone having remarks to his flirty nature.

 

     They made it to Midoriya’s floor, and Midoriya paused, listening for his homophobic neighbor, before lunging at his door not unlike the way he did a few days ago, and threw it open.

 

     He shoved a chuckling Shinsou inside, and slammed the door shut, just as Christophe opened his own. The two boys looked at each other, one laying on the floor, and the other pressed up against the door to keep it shut.

 

     They started laughing.

 

     This motherfucker.

 

     Christophe pounded on Midoriya’s door. “Akatani! Getchur’ ass ou’ ‘ere! Now!”

 

       “Who are you to tell me what to do?” He asked through the door.

 

     There was a stunned silence, before the pounding became louder, angrier.

 

      “Akatani! Getchur’ fuckin’ ass out ‘ere ‘ight now!” Shinsou waved Midoriya to the side, and he opened the door.

 

     Christophe was looking even more oily than the last time Midoriya saw him, his yellow teeth disgusting as he bared them at Shinsou, as if he could intimidate him. “Who the fuck ‘re yo’?”

 

     Shinsou blinked innocently. “Who me? I’m Midori’s new flat mate—“

 

       “You’re a fuckin’ fag, arentcha?! Get the fuck outta my face an’ kill yourself, ya unnatural piece o’ shit! Where the fuck is Akatani?!”

 

     Shinsou leaned in close to Christophe’s face, and Midoriya had new respect for him, because Midoriya was standing behind Shinsou, and Christophe’s stench was still making his head spin.

 

       “Who’re you to judge if I like it up my ass?”

 

     Midoriya choked.

 

     Christophe’s face was turning an impressing amount of colors, grey, pink, red, blue, and finally purple. “You fuckin’—“

 

       “Forget you ever saw me, go home, take a shower, and tomorrow, you’re going to apologize to everyone on this floor for waking them up.”

 

     The man turned around, and began waddling his way back to his room, but Shinsou shut the door, not caring enough to see if he made it.

 

     Midoriya was staring at him in awe. He flushed a pink.

 

       “What?” He asked, embarrassed.

 

       “Anyone who said you weren’t a downright badass is a filthy liar.”

 

     Shinsou threw his head back and laughed.

 

     Midoriya gave him a tour of his—their, Midoriya kept saying— apartment, a living room, with the kitchen across from it, a bathroom by the kitchen, and the master bedroom. Or, only bedroom.

 

     The bedroom was large, larger than Shinsou was expecting, with a queen sized bed pressed against the wall beside the window, a desk sitting across from it, and a closet half filled with Midoriya’s clothes.

 

     Midoriya placed Shinsou’s backpack down on the bed.

 

       “Alright,” He said. “I sleep on the far left side because it’s pressed against the wall, and I can’t sleep unless something’s pressing against my back, but if you need to sleep there, you’ll become my personal pillow, okay?” Shinsou nodded.

 

     Call him whatever you want, but he was hella touch starved, and here was this boy who was just as touch starved, and was willing to have little to no boundaries when it came to cuddling.

 

     Midoriya motioned to the closet.

 

       “Tomorrow, we’ll go shopping for more clothes, and since you’re also a vigilante, I’m guessing you also have a pretty bank account?”

 

     Shinsou nodded again.

 

       “Sweet, now, I’ll let you settle in, I’m going to take a quick shower, and if you want one I’ll show you how to work the knobs, okay?”

 

       “Thank you,” Shinsou said, his voice thick with emotions. Midoriya beamed.

 

       “You’re welcome.”

 

     Shinsou walked around, looking around at all the pictures in the house, only a few of them up, enough to make it look lived in, but little enough to grab them all and leave in a moments notice.

 

     All of them were of him and Hatsume, one or two had a very, very young Midoriya and a teenage-looking boy with spiky black hair and terrifying purple burn scars.

 

     Midoriya’s pantry was stocked with rice, Maruchan, cereal, honey, sugar, a shitton of coffee, and sprinkles.

 

     That’s it.

 

     Shinsou concluded that they would go grocery shopping as well, because Midoriya obviously couldn’t cook, but Shinsou very well could.

 

     The fridge was just as sad.

 

     There was old sushi takeout, which Shinsou threw away, a carton of expired milk, also thrown away, expired milkshakes, smoothies, and Frappuccinos, all dumped down the drain.

 

     The rest of the fridge consisted of Shirley Temple’s, Mountain Dews, a carton Minute Maid Apple Juice, Coca Cola, and Raspberry Brisk, basically anything and everything sugary or sweet.

 

     He and this boy were literally the yin and yang.

 

     Midoriya obviously liked his sweets, if all of the sweet drinks in the fridge didn’t tip you off, while Shinsou enjoyed sour drinks, like grapefruit juice or lemonade and kool aid without the sugar. He loved coffee black, because he’s never had the luxury of sweetener, but he had no plans to start now.

 

       “What are you doing?”

 

     Shinsou jerked away from the fridge, looking like a deer caught in headlights, or, more realistically, a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

 

       “We’re going grocery shopping.” He said, more of a demand than a request.

 

     Midoriya raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

 

       “Because I can cook and you can’t.”

 

       “Damn!” Midoriya cried, falling back with a hand over his heart, hair somehow completely dry. He was wearing a black tank top, dark green leggings and a pair of headphones, for some reason. “Cold hearted!”

 

     Shinsou chuckled and closed the fridge door. “Can you, uh, show me how the shower works?”

 

       “Sure!” Midoriya chirped, twirling around and bouncing back to the bathroom, humming a random tune under his breath.

 

       “You’re in a good mood,” Shinsou pointed out dryly. “The apartment doesn’t feel that lonely now that I have someone else here.”

 

     Ugh. Shinsou was not ready for that heart blow.

 

     Midoriya thrusted a towel into his hands, and Shinsou marveled at it’s softness.

 

       “Alright, so, simple. Twist this to the right or left depending on your temperature preference, and when you’re sure it’s right for you, pull this circular thing and press the button down, because once it’s pulled and this is pressed, it will set your temperature and it won’t change, okay?”

 

     That did not sound simple, but Shinsou nodded anyways.

 

     Midoriya pointed out the shampoo, conditioner, (“Shut up, it’s to make sure my hair dye doesn’t fade too quickly.”), and body wash. They were all scented to apples, and for some reason, it amused Shinsou. Midoriya handed him a small towel for his body and let him be.

 

     It was the first warm shower Shinsou had taken since he was four.

 

     Once he was all finished five minutes later, (the orphanage had timed them all), he dressed in a well-loved Present Mic t-shirt, and black sweatpants. He had sewn ‘#1 Underground’ onto the thigh part when he was younger, and it didn’t look too bad.

 

     His socks were mismatched, but that was what made Shinsou Shinsou.

 

     He stepped out of the bathroom and saw Midoriya sitting upside down in a chair.

 

     He grinned, and put his folded dirty clothes besides his backpack, before standing in front of the upside-down boy who was focusing on balancing a pen on the bottom of his nose.

 

     The boy made a disappointed sound when the pen fell, but it was more exasperated, like it wasn’t the first time he had dropped it.

 

     Midoriya opened his mouth to say something, before his eyes snapped to something on Shinsou’s thigh. For a split second, his heart began racing.

 

     Was it a spider? He swears, if it’s a freaking spider he’s going to actually scream—

 

       “Liking the Present Mic, But number one underground?” Shinsou blinked, before flushing. “Eraserhead, really?”

 

       “Shut up,” he said, Midoriya laughing at his pink face.

 

     He turned around and dove onto the bed, somehow making it all the way under the covers without smashing his head against the wall.

 

      One point for the brainwasher, oh yeah.

 

       “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever had the luxury of laying on.” He said, his voice coming out muffled from underneath the blankets.

 

     Midoriya chucked from behind him. “And you’re going to lay on it every night until we have to buy a new mattress.”

 

       “You’re gonna have your way with me every night?” God, sometimes, Shinsou needs to bite back his flirty comments, because one day, someone’s gonna think he’s interested.

 

     He rolled over and somehow found himself in the middle of a blanket burrito. He squawked, and began twisting and thrashing, trying to find a way to escape his self-given imprisonment.

 

     There was a thunk behind him, before wheezing laughter, so it was safe to say that Midoriya had fallen over after losing balance.

 

     He was successful after a few more seconds of his thrashing, and his head emerged from the blankets with a triumph cry, his hair messed up from his thrashing, because that blanket was never ending, what the hell

 

     He sat up, and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

 

       “I apologize for my flirty nature. It is something I use in uniform to fluster my targets, because you know flustered people make more mistakes. I promise I am not interested in you in that way, so please bear with me?” Midoriya sat up from the floor, startled at the sudden change in atmosphere.

 

     He waved his hand in a shoo-shoo motion, before shaking his head. “Don’t sweat it. I wasn’t thinking like that. I wouldn’t be bothered if you did like me like that, but I’m glad we’re staying completely platonic.”

 

     Shinsou smiled. “Thank you.”

 

     Midoriya beamed. “You’re welcome.”

 

     Shinsou spotted a pair of small, Bluetooth earbud looking things on his desk, and then over to the headphones the boy was wearing.

 

     He motioned towards the earbuds. “What do you use those for?”

 

     Midoriya turned to see what he was gesturing too, and made a noice of understanding.

 

       “Due to my years living on the streets, I developed creepy accurate senses, like Mei-chan said, so when I’m out during the day, too much noise can give me a migrane and probably burst my eardrums.”

 

     He picked up the earbud-looking ones.

 

       “These are the ones I wear with my costume, small and unnoticeable. They’re less likely to fall off compared to my giant headphones.”

 

     Shinsou hummed in understanding.

 

       “Speaking of Hatsume, what do I call her?” Midoriya grinned cheekily.

 

      “You get to come up with your own nickname for her.”

 

     Their sleeping arrangements were established pretty quickly; Shinsou would sleep with his back to the wall, and Midoriya would sleep pressed against his chest, as if they were lovers instead of touch starved children.

 

     Midoriya asked him if Shinsou would kindly not blow out his eardrums, and he confusedly agreed, before the boy took his headphones off laid down.

 

     It wasn’t completely pitch black in the room, and for that, Shinsou was grateful.

 

     When he was younger, his mother had shoved him into the pantry for hours on end to keep him out of sight, before his father put his stuff in a backpack, put him in the car, and left him in the orphanage. He obviously wasn’t fond of the dark.

 

     With Midoriya though, the curtains were cracked open, letting some of the moonlight spill in, casting the floor in an unearthly glow. It was beautiful.

 

     Shinsou was shocked to find, that instead of staying up all night because of his insomnia, with the sliver of light, and the warmth of the smaller boy’s body heat, he slipped into dreams extremely quickly.

 

 

     When Shinsou woke up, he was on something extremely soft and warm. Which was confusing, because the orphanage beds don’t offer nice mattresses, or warm blankets, let alone for him, so why did he feel like never getting up?— The warmth he felt against his chest shifted, and Shinsou’s eyes flew open.

 

     There was a boy pressed against him, and for a second, Shinsou felt fear. Was this a new boy from the orphanage? Was this a prank?? Who the hell—

 

     Last night’s memories flooded through his head, and he relaxed immensely when he remembered that he wasn’t back at the orphanage, a giddy feeling running through him when he remembered that he would never have to go back.

 

     He looked down at the sleeping form of Midoriya, his hair even crazier that it was last night and couldn’t help but wrap his arms around the boy, squishing him against his chest.

 

     The boy moved pliantly, like a large, personal, human heater, and made a squeaking noise when Shinsou buried his cold nose in the crook of his warm neck.

 

     Only after Midoriya registered that oh, something was on his neck, and iT wAs CoLd, did he begin weakly squirming, trying to get away from the ice that was Shinsou Hitoshi’s nose.

 

       “Toshiiiiii,” the boy whined, squirming as much as he could with his arms pressed against his sides, and Shinsou was filled with a warm feeling at the nickname. “You’re coooollld.”

 

     He chuckled, his voice husky from sleep, and he reveled in the full-body shiver Midoriya had. He had had no clue his voice could do that to people.

 

       “C’mon sweetheart,” he said, drawling his words and adding as much of his vigilante tone as he could, remembering to stay as quiet as possible. “We have to go shopping, remember?”

 

       “You’re going to kill me,” Midoriya whined, his blush sinking down to the roots of his hair, and Shinsou laughed.

 

     He laid the boy back down, before slapping his butt twice and saying, “C’mon! Get up!” He left Midoriya groaning into his pillow, while he went to go brush his teeth.

 

     After his quick morning routine was complete, he chuckled to find Midoriya still laying face-down in the pillows. He had his headphones on, so Shinsou threw caution to the wind on being quiet.

 

     He walked over to the bed, and leaned down, scooping the boy into his arms and ignoring his squawk, he said, “Alright! If you’re ready, we’re leaving!”

 

       “Toshi, no!” Midoriya cried. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet!”

 

      “Who’s fault is that?” He asked cheekily, but let the boy down into the bathroom.

 

     He leaned against the door and watched Midoriya, the boy raising a brow at him.

 

       “You’re ‘hust going ‘ku wash me?” He asked, and Shinsou was amazed that he could speak with a toothbrush and toothpaste in his mouth.

 

       “What do you eat in the mornings? You had literally nothing in your fridge that was edible.” Shinsou said, changing the subject.

 

     Midoriya hummed, before spitting out his toothpaste, “Nothing actually. I usually drink a sugary drink and it gets me through the day.”

 

       “You live off of sugary drinks and still manage to kick ass?!” Shinsou cried, shocked at what this boy would be capable of if he just ate.

 

     Midoriya finished his bathroom routine. “Pretty much, yeah.”

 

     Shinsou shook his head. “That changes now, because I can cook.”

 

     Midoriya laughed. “I know.”

 

     As soon as Midoriya put his socks and shoes on, he refused to change out of his leggings and black T-shirt, someone knocked on the door. They both turned to it in unison.

 

       “Expecting someone?” Shinsou asked. Midoriya shook his head, and they approached the door with caution.

 

     Midoriya looked into the peephole, before throwing his head back and laughing.

 

       “What?” Shinsou asked. “Who is it?”

 

     Instead of answering, Midoriya pulled open the door to see a freshly showered, and clean shaven Christophe, the blank look in his eyes.

 

       “Oh my god.” Shinsou laughed, his amusement growing when Christophe rambled off apologies for waking them up last night, and promises to do better. Then he turned on his heel, and walked to the door next to them.

 

     Midoriya slipped on short shorts over his leggings, and pocketed his phone and wallet, before they both stepped outside.

 

     After locking the door, they both made their way to the nearest grocery store.

 

       “Alrighty Mr. Grocery Man, what do we need?” Midoriya asked, pushing the shopping cart while Shinsou walked beside him. His headphones pressed down on his hair, making the parts not underneath it stick up even more.

 

       “Literally everything.” Shinsou replied, before pulling Midoriya down the nearest aisle, and beginning to fill the cart with everything.

 

     Eggs, milk, all types of meat, butter, cheese, ham, ketchup, mayonnaise, lemons, bean sprouts, corn, green beans, bacon, mushrooms, you name it, and Shinsou tossed it into the cart. It was looking pretty full, and Midoriya stated such.

 

       “Oh, sweetheart,” Shinsou said, his voice going husky with his Puppeteer tone. “We haven’t even started.”

 

     He turned around and busted out laughing, the sight of Midoriya flushed a dark red and stuttering random things imprinted on his eyelids.

 

     He began walking away from the boy, but stopped when he caught sight of a shocked girl staring at them.

 

     She was standing across the aisle with pink skin and hair, one hand on a can of spam, her black and yellow eyes were trained on them, like she couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

 

     He raised an eyebrow at her, and motioned to the can of spam.

 

       “Are you going to take that?”

 

     She made a squeaking nose in the back of her throat. “Oh! Yeah! Sorry! You and your boyfriend just startled me.” It was Shinsou’s turn to flush as Midoriya laughed behind him.

 

       “We— he’s— it’s— no—platonic!” He managed to squeak, his face flaming the more he realized he couldn’t form proper words.

 

     Oh, the 180 he did when he was flustered, instead of the one doing the flustering.

 

    She blinked at them, before her eyes went wide.

 

       “Oh! I’m sorry!” She cried, waving her hand in front of her. “I didn’t know! You two would make a beautiful couple, though.”

 

     Shinsou sat down hard, steam practically bursting from his ears, as Midoriya laughed harder.

 

       “Thank you.” He giggled. “It was nice talking to you, but I better get some coffee into his system before he breaks completely.” The girl nodded, before waving goodbye to them, darting off to a boy with black hair and red eyes standing in the check out line.

 

     Midoriya smiled and waved at the two, before snatching the back of Shinsou’s collar and beginning to drag him to the coffee section.

 

     The entire way there, people laughed at Shinsou’s red face, as he stuttered intelligible things about dating and crazy girls, being dragged on the floor like a cat on a leash; unwilling to walk.

 

     Midoriya stopped his cart beside the coffee aisle, and put his normal brew in, before tugging Shinsou’s collar to get him up off the ground to grab his own.

 

     Shinsou playfully muttered about stupid girls thinking they know everything, getting up before tripping on his own goddamned shoelace.

 

     (MIDORIYA TOLD HIM TO TIE THEM BUT DOES HE LISTEN?! NOOO)

 

     He began falling backwards, before a boy with blonde hair and a lightning streak through it caught him, stumbling from the unexpected weight.

 

       “Whoa!” The boy said. “Are you okay?”

 

      “Fuck me, I’m gay.”

 

     Midoriya could not put into words how hard he laughed in that moment. All he knew, was he was sitting on the floor with his head between his legs trying to stop the swirling in his vision.

 

       “I mean!” Shinsou cried, pulling away and trying to save his reputation. “Fucking great! I’m okay! How are you? Oh my god! Im so sorry, ughhhh—“

 

     The blonde boy stared at Shinsou in shock, his face turning a dark pink as the black haired boy he was standing with laughed as hard as Midoriya, the two of them gasping for breath at their friends’ embarrassment.

 

     Midoriya stood up on shaky legs, and threw his arm around his suffering friend. “What he means to say, is; Hi, my name is Shinsou Hitoshi, and you’re fucking gorgeous, do you want to give me your numb—“

 

    Shinsou elbowed him in the gut. Hard. Midoriya heaved a breath and doubled over, his arms around his midsection.

 

     The blonde haired boy seemed to shake himself out of his embarrassment.

 

     He chuckled, and swiped his hair out of his face, tilting his head to the side and licking his lips.

 

       “Catch me later, pretty boy, and I might just think about it.” He grabbed his friend’s wrist, who had crazily large elbows, and walked around the two, swaying his hips as Shinsou’s face began to resemble the very blood running through his veins.

 

     Shinsou stood there, staring at the boy’s perfect backside, and Midoriya laughed.

 

       “Whipped.” He snickered, and Shinsou whirled around.

 

       “Nuh-uh!” He cried. “I don’t even know him!”

 

       “But you want to know him.”

 

       “That’s besides the point—“ he cut himself off, glaring at Midoriya.  

 

       “You’re a little traitor, aren’t you?” Midoriya shrugged.

 

       “At least I don’t go telling every cute guy I see to fuck me.”

 

       “Zuzuuuu,” Shinsou whined. “You’re so meannn.” Midoriya snickered.

 

     The rest of their shopping trip was long, and went on without much fanfare, the only mentionable thing was the cashier’s face when it was their turn to check out.

 

     He had a reptilian face, looking like an iguana, but it didn’t hide the shock when the two boys began unloading their shopping carts. Yes, carts, Shinsou was going to make Midoriya broke.

 

     Still, he didn’t say anything when he rang up the kids and told them their total was over sixty thousand yen.

 

     Everyone standing behind them was shocked, even more so when neither blinked at the price, and Midoriya pulled out his wallet to pay.

 

       “Probably a hero’s children.” Someone muttered, and there were several rounds of agreement. Shinsou had rolled his eyes, but hadn’t said anything.

 

     Even if they lived pretty close to that grocery store, about a five minutes walk, with the millions of bags they had to carry, Midoriya was going to absolutely murder Shinsou, because his arms were three seconds from falling off.

 

    Needless to say, as soon as they were safely inside their apartment, Midoriya socked Shinsou in the arm hard enough to shove him into the wall.

 

       “Ow!” He cried, rubbing his arm as he slowly slid down the wall. “What was that for?!”

 

       “For making me carry all of these unnecessary food bags.” He hissed back, and the downed boy popped right back up with an indignant glare.

 

       “None of these are unnecessary!” He said. “You’re just being salty because you actually had to carry something.” Midoriya stuck his tongue out at the taller boy, and turned to look at all the groceries.

 

       “Let’s put these away, yeah?” Luckily, Shinsou took the bait.

 

       “Yeah, hand me all the cold items and I’ll put them in the fridge.”

 

     As they worked on putting all of the cold items away, they chatted about anything and everything. Shinsou’s school life, Midoriya’s home schooling, their parents, old friends, Bakugou Katsuki, Yuuei, favorite hero’s, Halloween ideas, favorite music, literally everything.

 

     They played twenty questions while putting away the dry foods, and there was so much to talk about, when they were done, the sky was dark and they felt as if they had grown up together.

 

       “Now,” Shinsou said, opening the pantry up and smiling in satisfaction when he took in all the new foods inside, just waiting to be cooked and consumed. “What are you in the mood for?”

 

       “Hmm...” Midoriya tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully, and a deep sadness overtook his features.

 

     Before Shinsou could ask what was wrong, he asked, “Do you think... you could make Katsudon?”

 

     Shinsou snapped his mouth shut, understanding dawning his features, and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

 

     Midoriya smiled, but it looked painful, as if he was twisting his features to move against their will. “Thank you.”

 

     Shinsou stepperd forwards, and pulled the boy into his chest, immediately feeling the boy begin shaking as the front of his shirt became damp with tears.

 

       “It’s okay to cry, you know.” Shinsou whispered to the boy, and held him as he began sobbing.

 

       “It’s just— I could go back to her,” he cried, clutching the back of Shinsou’s shirt like he was trying to pull Shinsou closer, even though there was no space in between them.

 

       “I-I could go back, and I wouldn’t have t-to live like this, but what would she say?! Her d-dead son standing in f-front of her, is alive and the m-most wanted vigilante around. H-how would she react to that?!” Shinsou closed his eyes, and curled around the aching boy.

 

       “What’s keeping you from her?” Midoriya sniffed, trying to suppress his emotions, and wiped his face on Shinsou’s shirt. “She’s moved on, Toshi. Did you know it only t-took her two months to move on? Was I t-than insignificant?! That she would move on after fifty-eight days?! While I’ve b-been hurting for six years?”

 

       “I’m sure it still hurts her, sweetheart. She probably hides it, though, so she doesn’t worry the people around her. I mean, my parents lost their love for me in the three seconds it took them to find out my quirk. I’m sure your mom is different, but adults are very good at hiding things when they want too.”

 

     Midoriya nodded, and wiped his face on Shinsou’s shirt again.

 

       “I’m sure you’re right. Thank you.”

 

     Shinsou ran his fingers through the smaller boy’s hair, shifting his headphones out of the way to begin lightly scratching his nails against his scalp to calm him. Midoriya had said it was the most comforting thing his mother had done for him when he was younger.

 

       “Anytime, sweetheart.”

 

     They stood like that for a while, until Midoriya’s stomach demonstrated a whale’s mating call. Shinsou laughed while Midoriya turned the color of a strawberry.

 

       “I’ll make dinner, but you have to give me one of your shirts, since you’ve decided to wipe all of your snot on mine.” Midoriya instantly jumped backwards with a cry, stuttering apologies and fixing his headphones as Shinsou laughed.

 

     The black haired boy turned on his heel and darted into their room, coming back out with a grey sleeveless shirt. Shinsou pulled off his tear-and-snot-stained tank, ignoring Midoriya’s embarrassed squeak, and slipped on the grey top. He handed the damaged shirt over, the boy racing to get rid of it, and twisted in the grey top, approving of the way it hugged his decently-shaped form.

 

     He didn’t have raging muscles, but he had more than Midoriya, who was more built for speed and outwitting. Shinsou was wider, therefore all of his power was in his shoulders and arms, meaning strong punches and quick knockouts. He nodded in approval.

 

       “I like this shirt.”

 

       “You only like it because it outlines your muscles.” The thinner boy snarked, pulling his headphones off and placing them gently on the counter.

 

     Shinsou was still touched every time the boy blatantly showed him the trust he had in him.

 

     Shinsou smirked, while the light feeling deep down grew bigger. “Do you want to eat?”

 

     Instantly Midoriya pressed himself against Shinsou’s side with a whine. “Toshiiiii, I was just kiddinnnngg, please feed me.”

 

     The two of them stared at each other for a second, before bursting out into laughter.

 

       “We sound like a couple,” Shinsou snickered as he turned around and began prepping all of the ingredients for Katsudon.

 

    Midoriya nodded solemnly. “Soon, we’ll bicker like an old, married couple.”

 

       “Dear Mic,” Shinsou chuckled, starting the meat and rice. “Save us all.”

 

       “Did you just say, ‘Dear Mic’, instead of ‘Dear god’?” Midoriya chortled, finding the fact that Present Mic was like Shinsou’s god hilarious.

 

     Shinsou flushed. “Shut up.”

 

     As they sat in comfortable silence, Shinsou cooking dinner and Midoriya watching in awe, Shinsou’s phone went off with a text message. He put his utensil down, and leaned over to peer at his lit up screen. It was from Hatsume.

 

     Hatsume-san

RE: Zuzu Blackmail

    HEY YOUNG ONE. I have a video of Zu-chan acting like a karate worm on one of his patrols, and decided to let you in on the teasing. 

    Don’t worry, I’ve hacked the service you’re on, and changed it to the one Zu-chan and I use. It’s untraceable, I promise.

    Bring up the Karate Worm Moment, Zu-chan’s face is always worth it. I’ll see you later.

(*☻-☻*)

 

[Video]

 

     Intrigued, he clicked on the video, and was immediately shown a young, young, Midoriya in his Spider, outfit fall into the screen from above. It was dark, so the camera was in nighttime mode, but you could tell the figure was Spider.

 

     There were a few pipes in between the two dark buildings, and the camera angle gave the perfect view as the small boy pulled himself between the pipes in a haste, like he was running from someone.

 

     The way the boy twisted and squirmed to get through the pipes, immediately reminded Shinsou of the worms he used to hold in his hand when he was younger, how they would flick around and squirm like they were demonstrating fighting techniques, and Shinsou felt a grin grow on his face.

 

     Karate Worm. That name fit so well.

 

     And Shinsou could see why this is blackmail.

 

     Towards the end of the video, as if his worm imitation wasn’t enough, the boy’s pants get caught on the edge of the pipe, and the camera is shown a flash of dark green underwear, before the boy yanks his pants back up and sprints out of view.

 

     The video ends.

 

     Shinsou throws his head back and laughs. He doesn’t stop laughing until Midoriya’s concerned hands are hovering over his red, tear-streaked face.

 

     He wipes his eyes and stares at the concerned boy with a large grin.

 

       “You really did look like a karate worm.”

 

     Instantly, the boy lets out an outraged cry as he shoves the laughing boy away, his face turning a dark red as he crosses his arms, a look of utter betrayal in his eyes as he plops down on a chair.

 

       “I can’t believe you’ve joined Mei-chan’s side!” He cried, throwing a napkin in Shinsou’s direction as the boy laughed even harder, wheezing intelligible things about worms, black belts, and green underwear.

 

     The boy had slipped his headphones back on, and Shinsou felt guilty that his sudden laughter probably hurt the boy’s ears. 

 

     Midoriya sniffed. “Is something burning?” Shinsou whirls around with a shriek, and attempts to save his dinner.

 

     Thankfully, he managed to stop the burning before it even happened, because Midoriya could smell it beginning to burn, instead of when it’s black and unsalvageable.

 

       “Itadakimasu!” Midoriya practically shouts, before snatching his chopsticks and inhaling the still-steaming food.

 

       “Izuku!” Shinsou cries, tossing his hands out to try and stop the boy. “Stop! It’s still hot!” The boy looks up at him with tears streaming down his face.

 

      And wow, Shinsou thinks, blink and you miss it.

 

       “It tastes really good, Toshi. Just like Mom’s...” the boy trails off, and continues eating, waving off Shinsou’s concern with a smile. “Don’t worry, that’s a good thing.” Shinsou nods, says his thanks, and they finish eating in silence.

 

     Midoriya’s phone rings. He picks it up, checking the caller, before putting it on speaker. 

 

       “Hey Mei-chan—“

 

       “ZU-CHAN PUT ME ON SPEAKER.” Hatsume’s voice rang out, and Midoriya cringed at her loud voice.

 

       “You’re on speaker Mei-chan.” He barely got the words out before Hatsume was speaking again, and Midoriya rolled his eyes as if this was a normal occurrence.

 

      “OKAY! I CHANGED HITO-CHAN’S SPIDER WANNA-BE OUTFIT AND BURNED HIS ORIGINAL ONE—

 

     Shinsou lurched over the phone with an indignant cry.

 

       “What?! Why?!” He shrieked. “It was perfectly fine—“

 

       “BECAUSE I MADE YOU A NEW ONE. YOU’RE BOTH COMING TO BASE RIGHT NOW AND MAKING A PUBLIC APPEARANCE TOGETHER. OHMYGODIMSOEXCITED—

 

       “Mei-chan, please breathe.” Midoriya said, amusement coloring his tone.

 

     Hatsume took an audible breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’m good.

 

       “Good,” Midoriya giggled. “We’ll be there in five.”

 

     He hung up. He stood up, and began putting away the leftover food from Shinsou’s cooking, ignoring the way the boy was moaning over the loss of his old outfit.

 

       “Hush Toshi,” Midoriya said. “She didn’t burn it, she’s just being dramatic. She said the same thing with my Spider outfit, she just has it displayed somewhere in the Base.”

 

     Instantly Shinsou perked up. “Really?!”

 

     Midoriya chuckled. “Yes, really.”

 

     Suddenly ten times more chipper, Shinsou bounced behind Midoriya, rambling about how excited he was to try his new outfit.

 

     Midoriya switched his headphones for his smaller ear-bud looking ones, and together, the left the house, cautious of anyone watching.

 

     If any of Midoriya’s nosy neighbors saw Midoriya and Shinsou leave the apartment late at night, and an hour later there was an appearance of Puppeteer and Machiavellian, they’d probably get suspicious.

 

     Not that they’d be smart enough to piece it together, nosy ducks. Mind your own business.

 

     Sadly, Shinsou had been added to Hatsume’s shadow device, so he didn’t have a problem walking through the abandoned building.

 

     He still clutched the back of Midoriya’s shirt like a scared child to a mother when they were walking in the tunnels, and made Midoriya go up the ladder second, so, ‘If anything were chasing us, you’d get eaten first.’

 

     He seems to forget that if anything were chasing them, Midoriya would never lead them to the base, and he’d hear them from a mile away.

 

     He shook his head amusedly, and climbed up the latter.

 

     With Shinsou’s excited bouncing, the wall seemed to take an eternity to open, and Shinsou was out of sight before Midoriya could even open his eyes again.

 

      “Where is it?!” The boy cried, and Midoriya laughed.

 

     He had done the same thing when Hatsume had made his costume. Walking into the Base, he smiled at Hatsume, who was standing in front of two dress forms this time, and Midoriya shook his head with a chuckle.

 

     Here we go again.

 

       “Just like Zu-chan,” Hatsume shook her head, but she was practically thrumming with energy. “Not even gonna greet me, but whatever, greetingsaresooverrated—“

 

     She shook her head, and motioned to the dress form directly behind her.

 

       “I based both of the costumes on a color scheme that could be directly drawn from blue, and Shinsou got purple.”

 

     She ripped the sheet off,—god what a shows woman— and Midoriya was impressed by the outfit she had put up.

 

     The entire thing was there, minus a mask if Hatsume had made one, and it looked classy.

 

     The top looked like a normal muted purple waistcoat, with a darker purple undershirt, and it was form fitting, but it wouldn’t outline Shinsou’s muscles, meaning his opponents would underestimate him. His tie was a brighter purple, still dark, but brighter than everything else on the uniform. There was also a black choker and a purple bracelet. The elbow pads looked like they were slipped underneath the undershirt, and were pretty flat, so that meant Hatsume trusted that Shinsou wouldn’t go jumping off buildings.

 

      Stop it, it’s my signature move, Mei-chan. I’m never changing it.

 

     The pants were form fitting as well, and would outline Shinsou’s leg muscles very nicely. He had two straps over his right thigh, and they held a knife, the straps and holster being the same pale purple as the belt that seemed to hang off of the hips instead of doing its job. His boots stopped just underneath his knees, and they were a dark, dark purple, border lining black in the same way Midoriya’s did, and instead of Midoriya’s cinching things, he had buckles that wrapped around the top, keeping the slim look all throughout. He had another two straps on his left shin, holding another knife, and then it was the shock absorbers that Midoriya had as well. The bottom of his shoes were surprisingly a dull blue color, instead of the ongoing purple theme.

 

     Hatsume had disappeared, and Shinsou was staring at shock at the uniform that he was going to be wearing. He walked up to it in slowly, touching the collar gently.

 

       “This is mine?” He breathed, his voice showing the shock he felt. Midoriya nodded,

 

       “Yeah.” He understood the same feeling Shinsou was having, and decided to let him have a moment.

 

     He turned around to see Hatsume coming back with a contact case, another porcelain looking mask, and a purple bottom mask.

 

       “Hatsume, please tell me that isn’t a voice changer.” He pleaded, and the girl looked at him almost offended.

 

       “You think I would change Hito-chan’s beautiful vigilante voice?! You’re crazy. It’s just to maintain the tone, and if he were to talk normally, the changer would take hold and make him sound huskier.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and placed the things on the table, beside four very suspicious-looking vials of something.

 

       “Hito-chan, if you’re done, we have a ton of preparing to do.” The boy turned around and was fighting back tears.

 

       “Meimei...” He whispered, and Hatsume beamed at the nickname, but shook her head.

 

       “None of that, Hito-chan. C’mon, we have a lot to do.”

 

     She got Shinsou into his uniform first, because she claimed he would be quicker, and Midoriya knew he would be quicker, so he didn’t complain.

 

       “Okay, Hito-chan, I’m going to pierce your left ear now.”

 

       “Wait what?!” Shinsou cried, twisting away from Hatsume with a needle in her hand.

 

     She sighed, exasperated. “It’s to put an earring in, identical to the ones Zu-chan and I wear, so we can become a trio.”

 

     Midoriya hadn’t known about becoming a trio, but he nodded along like he understood, and Shinsou held his hand like a baby when Hatsume advanced with the needle.

 

     Midoriya would forever laugh at the shock on Shinsou’s face when he realized it didn’t hurt at all.

 

     Hatsume explained that Midoriya and her were going to be completely female, but Shinsou was going for a more androgynous look, hence his male waistcoat, and his hair Hatsume was going to straighten.

 

     Instead of using the hell device— I mean, the straightener, Hatsume handed Shinsou one of the suspicious-looking vials, and told him to drink it.

 

     As Midoriya was mentally saying goodbye to his new best friend, Shinsou chugged the vial and slammed it against the table like a shot, his features twisting in disgust. Almost immediately after he swallowed it, his wild, gravity-defying blue hair fell down to just above his shoulders, dark purple sliding down it like water, until he had a head of straight purple hair.

 

       “Where what that when you were putting me into my uniform?!” Midoriya cried, salty that Shinsou would not experience the hell device.

 

     Hatsume turned to him with glinting eyes.

 

       “Hito-chan’s was the one I made after yours, so yours is either going to work, or we’ll have to find a replacement Machiavellian.”

 

     Midoriya gulped, and kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t tell if that was a threat or a promise.

 

     Shinsou was quickly changed into his uniform, and his contacts were put in without much hassle— what the hell Toshi, those things hurt— and Hatsume gave him his top mask and surgical looking mask.

 

     She then took Shinsou into a room, different from the one Midoriya took his picture in, because it was literally black all around, and she told Shinsou to stand in the far corner and strike a pose.

 

     He pressed the button on his bracelet, and his contacts glew pink against his white mask, as he slipped his left hand into his pocket, showing off the bracelet, and turning the same way Midoriya had, covering his right arm. He then shifted his weight on one leg, tilted his head, and stilled.

 

     Hatsume took the picture.

 

     Naturally, Shinsou was shocked.

 

       “This is me?!” He pulled the picture closer, and then looked down at his outfit.

 

       “I look badass.”

 

     Midoriya and Hatsume laughed. Then she turned to Midoriya with a smirk.

 

       “Ready?” She smugly asked, and she was so lucky Midoriya didn’t hit girls.

 

     He defeatedly nodded, and she grinned, snatching his arm and dragging him out of the room, Shinsou walking slower behind them, still getting used to the uniform Hatsume made him.

 

     Midoriya’s uniform was easier to put on than last time, but he still sounded like a strangled cat while Shinsou laughed his ass off. Glad someone is enjoying themselves, Toshi you dirty, betraying turd

 

       “There,” Hatsume said, sounding out of breath. “All finished.”

 

     Midoriya was pouting next to Shinsou, and they looked so badass together that Hatsume squealed.

 

       “Okay,” she began, pacing in a similar way to the way she was when planning Midoriya’s uniform. “I was thinking that we could become a trio. Obviously, I wouldn’t be out there with you because I’d actually die,” both boys snickered.

 

     “I’d be like the mastermind behind all the patrols and infiltrations, only coming out when you two are in serious trouble or I feel like messing with the world. How does that sound?” She trailed off, probably losing confidence in her plan.

 

     Midoriya gave her a thumbs up, and they both shivered when Shinsou spoke. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

     He jumped at the sound of his own voice, which was a million times deeper than usual, with the husky sound like he had just woken up, and it was so nice.

 

       “Okay,” Hatsume said, regaining her confidence. “I’ll be Daedalus, because he built the Labyrinth, and it could signify my path to success, easy for me, the creator to understand, but harder for everyone else—“

 

       “You’ve certainly though about this.” Midoriya said, amusement making him smile underneath his mask.

 

     Hatsume flushed. “Shut up.”

 

     She turned around and walked over to the last dress form, the one that wasn’t shown, and almost shyly pulled the sheet off of it. She twisted her fingers together nervously, but the boys were staring at the uniform in shock.

 

       “I don’t normally show a lot of skin, because I don’t care for that, so I thought that Daedalus would be harder to track if she showed a lot of skin and had an almost playful superiority complex... it wouldn’t be too hard for me to act, because I’ll just act how I used to—“

 

       “Hatsume.” The boys said in unison. “It looks great.” She brightened in an instant.

 

       “You think so?” The dress form did have a lot of fabric showing, meaning Hatsume wasn’t lying when she said she was showing a lot of skin.

 

     The color scheme was blue, and the top was off the shoulders, folding over and cutting off right underneath her breasts, skin tight so it wouldn’t slip off. The sleeves went down to her elbows, and plain gloves covered her hands. The bottom was just a normal, cheer looking skirt, with leggings covering everything else. The boots were also form fitting, with a small heel, but none of the other gadgets the boys had.

 

     The mask was beautiful.

 

     It would cover her face exactly like a Columbia mask, except the left side curled close to her face and around her ear, like glasses, and the right side went out like a wing, complete with the feathers. The same black part that covered the eyes on the boys’ costume covered hers, and they were struck on how pretty she would look.

 

     And then Hatsume pulled out a wig.

 

     Not that it looked bad or anything, but the boys felt stupid when it didn’t cross their minds that Hatsume’s hair was a dead give away to who she was.

 

     It was a pale blue, and had a deep right part that sent long bangs curling over her mask and behind her head. It had a giant braid taking up the rest of her head, and the remaining hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back.

 

       “My contacts will glow red, and my color is blue because green and purple could be taken and turned into blue, and since I’m the brains of this I thought that would be fitting—“

 

       “You don’t need to explain it.” Shinsou said. “It looks great.”

 

       “Yeah,” Midoriya nodded, still not used to his female voice.

 

       “Thank you,” Hatsume whispered, and it was so out of character that both boys started, before she was waving them towards the wall, like a mother sending her children to go play outside.

 

       “Good luck!” She called before the wall slid shut, and the boys were sealed in darkness.

 

Chapter Text

     

 

     Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t stupid.

 

     Maybe, once upon a time, he had been. He had lived the easy life as an egotistical child with a quirk perfect for heroics. He had been seen as superior, because he could create explosions from his sweat. Everyone had put him on a pillar higher than everyone else, had worshiped the ground he walked on.

 

     Only Midoriya Izuku saw him as an equal.

 

     That thought used to piss him off. To think that the stupid quirkless Deku could ever be on his level. Hell, he could control explosions, and all Deku could do was mutter and ramble.

 

     A small part of him was thankful for the boy, the boy who could look past Bakugou’s quirk and befriend him for who he was— or had been. That small part of him was squashed down smaller and smaller until he forgot his original reason for befriending him, and began hating him.

 

     The stupid, stupid boy who stared at him with bright sparkling eyes, calling him Kacchan and  following behind him like a loyal puppy. The stupid, idiotic boy who had the audacity to ask him if he was okay when he clearly was, and it used to piss him off.

 

     To see that this quirkless boy was purer than he, had not a single bone that could do harm, because all he wished was for people to be good, to help them.

 

     He used to push the boy, scream at him, use his quirk on him, hit him, burn him , to get him to fight back. To show himself that this boy could fight back, that Midoriya Izuku was capable of hurting someone, and that he wasn’t this perfect, innocent boy who had the makings of a true hero.

 

     Not once, did Midoriya ever fight back.

 

     At the time, it made him hurt.

 

     To know that someone who was lesser than him in  terms of quirks and power, was better  him when it came to being a good person. That hurt had turned into rage very quickly, when he asked his mother what he was supposed to do to someone who was always hurting him.

 

     She told him you hurt them back, but worse.

 

     So that’s what he did. He hurt Midoriya, over and over and over, until he forgot that he was trying to get rid of the pain in his chest, and it became second nature. Using his quirk on him to make him cry, to show everyone else that Midoriya Izuku was less than him.

 

     And yet, the first time Bakugou Katsuki cried, it was because of Midoriya Izuku.

 

 

     After school, Midoriya had taken off, running like the wind and ignoring the teachers telling him to walk, to get away from Bakugou and his cronies. It was a normal occurrence, even five years after he first started putting him in his place, but he still gave chase. No matter how much he ran, sprinted, pushed himself, he could never, ever catch  up to him.

 

     It was like Midoriya was alway in front of him, and Bakugou was always staring at his back, never able to catch up. Like Bakugou was walking while Midoriya was sprinting, and all he could do was watch as the boy got further, and further away from him. 

 

     He gave up chasing the boy just as quickly as last time, watching as Midoriya’s horrid yellow backpack disappeared into the crowd. He scoffed and made his way home. They used to live decently close to the Bakugou’s, but ever since Auntie Inko’s deadbeat husband left her, they had to move to an apartment with a lower rent.

 

     He had put new burns on Deku’s back, ruining his new uniform, and he felt sadistic satisfaction at the fact that Deku would spend the rest of the week treating his burns.

 

    Sitting down at the table, the tv was on the news station, and a certain location had been burned to the ground. A villain had attacked Auntie Inko’s entire apartment complex. There were many casualties, and many injuries. 

 

     As the days passed, his mother was working herself into a frenzy, calling all of the hospitals and trying to find out which one her best friend and child had been sent too.

 

     Four days later, she found the one they needed, and told Katsuki to go get his shoes, because they were going to go visit the Midoriya’s. He told his mother that he didn’t want to see the useless Deku, and he hoped the boy had gained burn scars to learn his lesson.

 

     It was the first time Bakugou Mitsuki had ever hit her child.

 

     The drive to the hospital was silent, the revving and rumbling of the engine the only sound, with the GPS chiming in every few minutes. Mitsuki was checking said GPS every second to make sure that the location wasn’t changing, and Katsuki was sitting in the back with both hands over his cheek, staring into space in shock.

 

     Mitsuki almost sideswiped two cars, and t-boned another while looking for a parking.

 

     When she had legally found a parking spot, she almost ripped her and Katsuki’s seatbelts off, dragging Katsuki out of the side of the car. She yanked his hand away from his red, hand-marked cheek and began pulling him beside her as she made her way into the hospital.

 

     The receptionist looked up to them with a patient but tired smile, as if she had done this a million times, which she probably had.

 

      “Midoriya Inko and Midor—“

 

       “Room 157.”

 

       “Thank you.”

 

      Mitsuki didn’t question why the receptionist knew the Midoriya’s room number off the top of her head, in the same way the receptionist didn’t question why the blonde lady was asking for two Midoriya’s, when there was only one.

 

       “Hey, old hag, slow the fuck down—“

 

       “Shut up Katsuki.”

 

     Katsuki shut his mouth quick. He had never heard that tone from his mother, ever. It was somehow scarier with the lack of cuss words that his mother was so fond of.

 

     Mitsuki unceremoniously threw open the door to room 157, and stepped in.

 

       “Inko!” She cried in relief, rushing over to the bed which held the weary green haired lady. She looked over at her name, and smiled brokenly at her best friend.

 

       “Mitsuki. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

       “Nonsense,” Mitsuki said, pulling up a chair beside her best friends bed, before peering over at the other bed, her eyes widening when she realized it was empty. She whirled around to the other side, and saw no other beds in the room.

 

     She turned back to her friend slowly, with confusion written on her face, not registering the pain on Inko’s.

 

       “Where’s Izu-chan?”

 

     Tears welled up in Inko’s eyes, and both Bakugou’s, flinched both for different reasons. Katsuki had never seen Inko look so broken, while Mitsuki was suppressing her fear.

 

       “Inko, where is Izuku?”

 

     That broke the damn, and Inko was sobbing into her hands, Mitsuki’s chair falling down behind her as she towered over her best friend.

 

       “Inko, this isn’t fucking funny. Where the hell is Izuku?!”

 

       “He didn’t make it out!”

 

     Katsuki froze.

 

       “What do you mean he didn’t make it out?! He’s here, isn’t he? What room is he in?”

 

     Inko sobbed, clutching at the blonde-haired woman’s arms when she tried to walk away, and she shook her head.

 

       “Izuku d-didn’t make it out of the fire Mitsuki. En-deavor told me he f-found his ashes. Oh god, Mitsuki!” She cried, wailing into her best friend’s shoulder when Mitsuki leaned down and hugged her, face blank as she tried to deny it.

 

       “My baby boy! He’s gone ! Mitsuki, he was nine. He burned to death at  the age of nine ! My baby—“

 

     She wailed, screaming incoherent things into her best friend’s shoulder, as Katsuki looked to his mother. Deku wasn’t dead, right? This was just a lesson to teach him to leave the quirkless boy alone, wasn’t it? He tugged at his mother’s skirt.

 

       “M-mom, he-he’s not d-dead right?”

 

     When Mitsuki looked at her son, Katsuki saw her red eyes and nose, saw her shaking with suppressed tears as Inko wailed, tears staining her face and running down her hospital gown.

 

     In that moment, Katsuki knew, Midoriya Izuku was dead.

 

     He felt a horrible pain in his chest, something that he remembers feeling when Deku was his friend, and he immediately tried to squash it down, but every time he looked into his mother’s red eyes, the feeling grew stronger and stronger, until it broke through the wall Katsuki had put around his heart. The feeling spilled into his nose and eyes, clutching at his limbs until he was shaking, tears spilling out of his eyes in rapid succession.

 

       “I-izuku’s n-not d-dead.” He sobbed, both mother’s looking at him with a heart-crushing amount of pity. “Iz-izuku wa-was strong. He w-wouldn’t let f-fire kill him. He—“

 

       “Katsuki,” Inko whispered, and Katsuki looked into her sad green eyes. “I’m-i’m so sorry .”

 

     He froze, looking into Inko’s dull green eyes, before sadness scrunched his features and he was wailing, letting go of everything he had crushed down in hopes of it going away. His wail turned into a scream, and his legs gave out below him, clutching at his shirt as the air left his lungs and didn’t come back.

 

     He stared down at his hands, his screams increasing in sound, only seeing his explosions. His explosions that he used on his best friend , his only friend . He had burned Izuku, over and over again, and someone with Katsuki’s quirk had come along and finished the job.

 

     Fire ran through Katsuki’s veins, it was his fire that had hurt Izuku, had stolen all of the boy’s happiness, and it was fire that had stolen the boy’s life.

 

     He clawed at his face, not feeling the tears running down it, only feeling the smirk that he used to make when he left Izuku’s broken and burned form on the floor, and he could picture it. He could see the same way Izuku would cry and scream, his body twisting to get away from the harsh heat that was burning his skin, before the fire consumed him, screaming, and left nothing but ashes in his wake.

 

     Katsuki lost his lunch, and then doctors were running in, grabbing him as he screamed and thrashed, wondering if this was how Izuku felt every time Katsuki used his quirk on him, how he felt when the flames consumed him whole.

 

     In the next moment, he was standing in a burning apartment, the flames licking up the walls as smoke made Katsuki cough, doubling over, before remembering to stay close to the floor.

 

     He crawled over towards where he knew the door was, and just like before, there was a boy laying in front of it.

 

     The boy was mumbling, his curly green hair bushy as it covered his face, hiding the monstrosity that Katsuki’s mind had come up with.

 

       “It hurts, Kacchan.”

     He flinched. He knew what was going to happen, but no matter how much he tried to turn around and run away, his arms and legs felt like they were filling with lead, heavy and impossible to move.

 

       “Why does it hurt Kacchan?”

 

     The boy slowly pulled himself up, his hair falling to hide his face, and Katsuki jerked harder, begging his limbs to just move .

 

     They never did.

 

     Izuku looked into Katsuki’s eyes, and no matter how many times Katsuki see’s it, fear still turns his veins to ice.

 

     The right side of Izuku’s face was blackened, skin peeling off of his cheeks to show his bloody twitching muscles underneath, his upper lip disintegrated, showing white teeth and the inside of his charred mouth. His nose was misshapen, like candle wax that had been burned, if that candle wax bled blood and was on a human’s face. His right eye was scrunched shut and swollen, a horrible blackish purple color, but Katsuki knew the black socket would leak blood when opened.

 

     The boy jerked to his feet, and no matter how much Katsuki thrashed, he couldn’t move, his body was frozen in place like someone had turned off his control, and all he could do was watch.

 

     The boy stumbled over to Katsuki, an awkward, painful gait of someone who couldn’t get their right leg to work.

 

       “It burns Kacchan , it burns . Can’t you make it stop?” 

 

     Katsuki tried to scream as his childhood friend staggered closer, his eye spilling blood as it opened, skin tearing and showing a black, empty socket where a beautiful green eye once sat.

 

       WHY DOES IT BURN KACCHAN?!

 

     The monster jumped on him and pinned him to the ground, sharp talons tearing into his skin, shredding his eye and screaming, screaming, screaming

 

     Katsuki jerked up, his chest heaving as he clutched at his right eye, sweat dripping down his face as his left eye darted around frantically, slowing when he recognized his room.

 

     He ran a hand through his spiky hair and slumped over, staring at the ceiling with wine-colored irises, wondering if he had that nightmare on the night before Izuku’s death as a punishment, for tormenting the boy when he was alive.

 

     He pushed himself out of his bed, his sheets tangled and rumpled in an obvious show of his struggle, trying to pull himself from the nightmare. He ignored it and snatched some clothes, before making his way to the bathroom to shower.

 

     He stared at himself in the mirror as the water ran, staring and staring to reassure himself that his right eye was still there, that that monster hadn’t clawed it out, that he was in his home instead of Izuku’s—

 

    He dropped his head, glaring at the sink instead, clutching the counter as if it was his only lifeline. He took a deep breath and looked back into the fogging mirror, reassuring himself one more time that his eye was there, before stripping and jumping into the shower.

 

     Surprisingly, showers made his anxiety run through the roofs, so on the day of Izuku’s death, he always finished them in three to five minutes. You’d think if he has a nightmare about fire and burning, he would feel safe in water, but water just made him feel like he was laughing at Izuku, who had not had the ability to wake up and take a shower.

 

     When he was was done viciously drying his hair— he didn’t like the touch of water at all on Izuku’s death day— he dressed himself in a loose grey T-shirt and jeans. His baggy jeans that he had adored so, now made him feel like he couldn’t run away, so he had begged his mother for tighter jeans, so he could run if he needed to.

 

     She didn’t ask, both his parents knew what Izuku’s death had done to him, so anytime he did anything bizarre, like beg them to not go to the beach, or climb into their bed in between them, or ask them to change his wardrobe, they marked down the day, and realized that every time he did something weird, it was on the day Inko’s son had died.

 

     They had sat him down, and had a long talk, where he admitted to the nightmare, about how he was terrible to his best friend, and he had broken down, asking his parents if he could still be a hero, if he could help people in the same way Izuku had. He had begged them to tell him, if he could still be good, if he could change for Izuku.

 

     They told him he could be a hero, but he would have to do it for Izuku, not for himself. He would have to get to the top for Izuku, stand on the roof overlooking the world and scream in victory, so when he died, he could tell Izuku how it felt, to stand where Izuku should have stood, right beside him.

 

    From that day on, he promised himself that whatever he did, he would do it for Izuku. He would become the number one hero, so when he saw Izuku again, he could tell him how he felt, the exhilaration of standing on top. It was no longer for him, everything he did was for Izuku.

 

     Izuku was his inspiration, the reason he pushed passed all of his hardships. ‘ Do it for Izuku.’ , or do it because Izuku can’t , was something he used often.

 

     He walked downstairs after slipping a notebook into his back pocket, and nodded good morning to his parents.

 

       “Do you want to eat something...?” His mother asked, trailing off because she already knew the answer.

 

     Katsuki pulled on the best smile he could, and by his father’s wince, he didn’t pull it off well. “I’m okay mom, thank you.”

 

       Mitsuki nodded. “Don’t fall asleep.”

 

       “I’ll try not to.”

 

     Walking through the streets, with children chasing each other and laughing, he felt sad. Izuku should’ve been beside him. He would’ve been rambling about a hero’s quirk, his nose buried in his newest notebook, and he would’ve looked up at Katsuki with those bright green eyes, and Katsuki would’ve ruffled his hair and called him a nerd—

 

     No, bad Katsuki. No crying on Izuku’s death day.

 

     During the day, he never cried. He did fun things that Izuku should’ve been doing with him, and he would file it away for later so he could tell Izuku about it. Right now though, he had a new hero to tell Izuku about, and those debuts always came first.

 

     As he made his way through the streets, taking the bus and ignoring the world, he twisted a thick green bracelet around his wrist. It was about and inch and a half thick, made out of a braided green and black string, which was fraying badly. Izuku had bought it with his ‘own money’ when they were both four. He never took it off.

 

       He stopped by a store, and bought two drinks, one coffee and one tea. Izuku had loved coffee when they were younger, said he liked the taste after they had snuck Masaru’s under the table and consumed it, but Bakugou hated that shit. He likes his tea, thank you very much.

 

       “Hey, Izuku, you’ll never guess what happened.” He sat down beside the gravestone, placing the coffee cup beside him, and taking a sip from his own tea. He pulled out the notebook and opened it to the newest page. “A new hero debuted, her name is Mount Lady, and she has a gigantism quirk. She had her debut in the middle of a villain fight with Kamui Woods. She leaped in with a ‘Canyon Cannon’ right before Kamui Woods did his Lacquered Prison, and took his shot, but—“

 

     And that was how his day went. He left no secrets from his best friend, telling him about the fear he felt inside the Sludge Villain, how he almost gave up so he could see Izuku.

 

       “But I didn’t.” He said, leaning against the gravestone gently, placing the closed notebook on the ground. “I pushed through, because I knew it was something you would’ve done. You wouldn’t have given up, you would’ve been strong. I honestly thought I was going to die, before someone ran out from the crowd, and threw a library book at the villain.” He laughed. “A library book , Izuku. But it worked. The villain was distracted long enough for All Might to deliver the finishing blow. I didn’t get to thank the person who saved me though, because they ran off.” He shifted, and downed the rest of his tea, ignoring the slight sting from the hot liquid.

 

       “It was weird, because later, I ran into Spider, the vigilante I was telling you about, and Izuku, let me tell you, he was short . Anyways, he ran into me, and I helped him up, but he called me, ‘ Kacchan .” He paused, remembering the way the smaller boy had said it. “I didn’t think anyone else besides you called me Kacchan. It was weird, Kacchan is my nickname from you, and I didn’t like Spider using it.” He looked down into his lap, and began twisting the bracelet around his wrist, a habit he had gotten into.

 

       “Spider is apparently now Machiavellian, which is crazy, because I told you, Machiavellian is a girl and Spider is a boy. Do you think something happened to Spider and he was not able to continue his work, so he handed his name to Machiavellian? I honestly don’t know, but I know you would. Oh! There was a new place that sold katsudon—“

 

     He talked and talked, about anything and everything, until his words slowed down and his eyes got heavy, until his brain was sluggish and he relaxed, letting sleep take him into her sweet embrace. The only safe place for Katsuki to sleep was right beside his best friend.

 

 

     Midoriya honestly didn’t believe Hatsume when she said she had found his gravestone, but looking back on it now, it made sense. He was dead, it was only natural to have a funeral to bury a loved one’s remains.

 

     She had told him it was in the cemetery in his old city, and he had been confused, because his old city hadn’t had a cemetery, until she gave him a look and said his old city .

 

     The city he lived in with Bakugou Katsuki.

 

     Wow, that name still hurts to think about.

 

     Walking down the streets of his old city was like walking down memory lane, every small, seemingly insignificant thing holding some sort of memory for him.

 

     The most painful thing he had ever done, was walk past Bakugou Katsuki’s old house, no one inside even aware of his living status.

 

     Okay, so normally, people who have gone through what he had gone through normally felt hatred. They felt a burning rage deep down and begged Karma to stab the hell out of the people who wronged them, but he didn’t feel like that. He was only going to say this once, so listen up.

 

     He didn’t blame Bakugou Katsuki for everything he had done when they were kids.

 

     In a way, it was society. Gosh, what an angsty teenage thing to say. Society had made Bakugou see himself as an untouchable god, while Midoria was the dirt beneath his shoes. Maybe at first, he hated Bakugou. He wanted Bakugou to burn in the same way he had, to make him scream and revel in the power he had, before he realized what a villainous thing that was.

 

     Dabi had shown him how messed up society is, and told him that he needs to hate the hero’s, since they support the system that had segregated those with powerful quirks, and those without. He didn’t understand that. The hero’s only support the system because they came out of it, so that means they were made to not question it. He had told Dabi, that he needed to hate the system, not the Heros because they didn’t know any better.

 

     Dabi had stared at him for a long time after that, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, before his lips pulled into one of his rare smiles. He had ruffled his hair, and said, “You’re right, squirt.”

 

     He missed Dabi. A lot. Dabi had been the one to pull him out of his depression, had quickly filled the role of a caring older brother, making sure he wouldn’t die on the streets, but also making sure he didn’t get too comfortable, so he would always be grateful for what he had.

 

     One day, he had asked Dabi why he had even bothered to pick him up from underneath the rubble, and Dabi had fallen silent, the pretty blue flame in his hand dying out.

 

     Before Midoriya could backtrack, Dabi had looked at him, and the pain in his eyes had gouged a hole in Midoriya’s heart.

 

     Taking care of you is like my punishment for not being able to save my little brother.

 

     It was the first time Dabi had ever let Midoriya hug him, and pressed into the teenager’s chest, he didn’t mention the tears he felt falling into his hair.

 

     He heaved a sigh. Thinking about Dabi just made him feel sad, and not for the first time, he was wondering if the other teenager would contact him. Dabi had said that when he was old enough, he would tell him who he really was, and he was still waiting for that call—

 

     He froze dead in his tracks.

 

     Hatsume had given him direct instructions to his gravestone, and he had followed them lost in thought, but he never ever thought he would see this boy’s face again, let alone laying over his ‘grave’.

 

     Bakugou Katsuki was slumped over his gravestone, eyes closed and snoring softly, two paper cups and a notebook sitting beside him. After a few seconds of silently watching the boy, he determined that he was in a deep sleep, and he crept forwards.

 

     Standing in front of his old friend and tormentor, he couldn’t help but take him in. Puberty hit him hard, and Midoriya marveled at his new, sharper features. He was slim, but had that toning that said he was working for muscles.

 

     He looked over to the two cups, and the notebook, emotions creeping up his chest when he read the title. ‘Hero Analysis for the Future #13’. He shook his head, that was obviously a coincidence.

 

     He glanced at the cups, his interest piped as to what his old friend still drinks. One was laying on its side, obviously empty, but smelling strongly of tea. The other—

 

     Midoriya gulped down the emotions rising in his throat. The other smelled like coffee.

 

     He looked back at the boy, before something on his wrist caught his attention. It was a bracelet. Namely, the one Midoriya gave him when they were four. He frantically pushed the tears down, sitting back on his heels and pressing his hands to his face. It was obviously a coincidence.

 

     Meeting Bakugou Katsuki at his own grave, Bakugou having a notebook that looked like a long continuation of the ones he made as a child, the filled coffee cup, when Midoriya knows Bakugou hates coffee, and the bracelet Midoriya gave Bakugou when they were younger. It was all a coincidence. Bakugou didn’t care for him anymore.

 

    ...right?

 

     He heard Bakugou shift, and he lifted his head from his hands, staring into red colored irises like a deer caught in headlights.

 

     Bakugou blinked sleepily. “Izuku?”

 

     Midoriya flinched, fear filling his eyes, and the movement seemed to wake the other boy up. He jolted, his eyes becoming more awake as he stared at Midoriya.

 

       “I-I’m sorry,” He said, cursing himself for stuttering. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 

     Bakugou nodded, before staring at the ground. “It’s okay.”

 

     Midoriya blinked. That was it? No screaming at him for daring to disturb him? What the actual hell?

 

       “How long have I been out?” He asked, as if this was a normal occurrence.

 

     Midoriya shifted uneasily, waiting for Bakugou’s fuse to blow. “Umm, I don’t know. I just got here.”

 

       “Oh. My bad.”

 

     Midoriya nodded slowly in shock, pretending like he knew exactly what was going on.

 

     Bakugou looked at him. “You need something?”

 

       “What?”

 

     Bakugou shifted, and leaned against the gravestone. “I don’t usually leave until closing time.”

 

       “Oh.” Smart response Midoriya, awesome. “I’ll leave, I just need to see that gravestone, please.”

 

      Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, and Midoriya cringed away. If the boy noticed his reaction, he didn’t say anything  

 

       “Why do you need to see it?”

 

     Midoriya bit back a groan. “C’mon dude, it’s just a gravestone.”

 

     “No, it’s my best friend’s gravestone.”

 

      “Oh, so quirkless Deku is  your best friend now?!” He snarled, unable to suppress the sudden anger he felt.

 

     Bakugou’s eyes blew wide open in shock, hurt spilling into them, before narrowing in anger. “Excuse me?”

 

     Ah, shit. He just provoked his childhood bully. Should he say goodbye to the world now?

 

     Midorya stood up, fear shaking his core at the thought of Bakugou using his quirk, and ignored the boy grabbing for him.

 

       “I’m sorry for bothering you, I’m leaving.”

 

     He turned on his heel, hearing Bakugou get up behind him, and he sped up, desperate to get away from the other boy. He pressed his vigilante earbuds deeper into his ear, so it would be safe if he needed to run. He heard the other boy call out, and Midoriya took off, forgetting about the exit and just running away, like he could escape his past if he ran fast enough.

 

     For the first time ever, Bakugou caught him.

 

     Bakugou tackled the smaller boy to the grass, hidden from the other people by the bathrooms.

 

     They tumbled over each other from the speed that they collided into the ground with, Bakugou letting out a grunt when he hit the ground hard, Midoriya fighting the panic that was welling up.

 

     As soon as they stopped rolling, Midoriya was darting up, trying to get away, but Bakugou snatched his arm and yanked the boy back. Midoriya landed hard on his back as Bakugou caged him in.

 

       “Kacchan, please don’t—“

 

       “You’re Spider.” Shock colored his tone.

 

     Midoriya paused, looking back at Bakugou instead of searching for someone he could flag down for help.

 

       “What?”

 

    Bakugou sat back, straddling Midoriya’s small waist and pressing his entire weight against him, making sure he would not be able to buck him off and run away.

 

       “You’re Spider. Spider called me Kacchan after the Sludge Villain attack.”

 

     Midoriya choked on his breath. He forgot how smart Bakugou could be when he wanted to. “Uhh, oops?” 

 

       “I have two questions for you.”

 

     Midoriya’s shrugged. “I may or may not answer.”

 

    Bakugou nodded, knowing this might be the case. Midoriya was struck by the difference in current Bakugou, and the Bakugou he was friends with all those years ago.

 

       “It’s common knowledge that Spider is Machiavellian.” Midoriya nodded slowly, not liking where this is going. “You’re Spider, so who is Machiavellian? Why did you give her your title?”

 

       Midoriya chewed his lip. Answering this could literally end everything he has worked for.

 

     He shook his head, and Bakugou’s shoulders slumped slightly.

 

       “Thank you,” he said. “For saving me from the Sludge attack. I assume it was you.” 

 

      “You’re welcome, it was.”

 

       “Last question.” His eyes became steely in determination. 

 

     Midoriya chuckled nervously. “Cash them in, why don’t you?”

 

     Bakugou didn’t laugh.

 

       “Where did you hear the nickname Kacchan?”

 

     Panic spilled over Midoriya’s face, no matter how hard he tried to school his features. He needed to get a grip, or the next person would be his mother. Bakugou leaned down, startled by the sudden change in the boy’s mood.

 

       “Where the hell did you hear it?”

 

       “I-it’s what M-Midoriya called you.”

 

     That answer just seemed to anger the blonde. He pinned Midoriya’s wrists to his sides and bared his teeth.

 

       “Yes, that’s what Izuku called  me. He’s the only one who ever, ever fucking  called me Kacchan. Who the hell are you to—“

 

     He froze, and Midoriya paled.

 

       “Bakugou—“ He tried warning, but the boy shut him up with a look.

 

       “Only five people knew Izuku called me Kacchan. The two boys from when we were younger, Inko-san, and my parents.” Midoriya flinched at his mother’s name. “Unless...”

 

     He trailed off, and Midoriya saw the exact moment the truth came into his head. His eyes blew open wide, and his mouth opened in shock. He saw the way the boy tried to push it to the back of his brain, trying to deny it, and Midoriya would not be  there when he accepts it.

 

     He bucked his hips, taking Bakugou’s moment of shock as his cue to get the hell outta  there. He successfully threw the larger boy off of him, and took off sprinting like a man running away from his wife, right after she found out he had been cheating on her. Translation: like he was about to be brutally murdered and they’d never find his body.

 

       He glanced to the side, and missed the curb, stumbling across the street before his foot caught the sidewalk, and he went sprawling into the grass.

 

     Goddamnit. This day just filled with firsts, wasn’t it?

 

     He quickly pushed himself back to his feet, but was tackled again.

 

     Goddamnit, this boy needs to stop pinning him down in a cemetery . He will not be  held accountable for what he does.

 

     He thrashed under the taller boy, not enjoying the diet of a cow, before he was rolled over and pinned down effectively.

 

     Bakugou was crying.

 

     Midoriya’s eyes blew open wide, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Bakugou had buried his face into the crook of his neck.

 

      Hey now , a small part of him wanted to say. That’s Toshi’s spot.

 

       “Izuku, Izuku, please, if that’s you, please tell me,” he was crying, and Midoriya was shocked into silence. “I can’t fucking live like this, please, please—“

 

       “Kacchan,” He whispered, feeling the way the boy tensed above him. “It’s me.”

 

     Bakugou froze, as if he couldn’t believe his ears, and pulled away from Midoriya’s shoulder. He searched Midoriya’s eyes for any trace of a lie, before his eyes narrowed.

 

       “Prove it.”

 

     Midoriya rolled his eyes, pretending he didn’t have tears welling up either.

 

       “The last sleepover we had, you hit me with a pillow and yelled, ‘ Fucking suck on that !’. Mitsuki-san sat us both down and told us both that you can’t just say things like that, because it could be taken wrong without context.”

 

     Through his mini proof story, Bakugou’s eyes had gotten more and more watery, until tears were spilling down his cheeks and he was scrunching his eyes shut in a weak attempt to stop them. He shuddered out a sob, and released Midoriya’s wrists, instead pulling the boy into his chest and allowing himself to cry.

 

     His ‘no crying on Izuku’s death day’ rule was discarded, because Izuku was here, laying in his arms as they both cried.

 

       “I missed you— so fucking much,” he sobbed, burying his face into the curly hair, and if he closed his eyes, he could picture the green color, instead of the flat black he had.

 

     He allowed himself to cry for a long while, letting out everything that had been in his system. His yearning for the boy, his urge to apologize, everything, until his body wracking sobs fell to soft sniffles.

 

       “Did you permanently dye your hair?” He whispered, his brain a little slow.

 

       “Nah, it’s washable. No shit it’s permanent,” Midoriya chucked wetly, pulling away and wiping his eyes as Bakugou stared at him in shock. “What?”

 

       “Midoriya Izuku has a fucking mouth on him?!”

 

     Midoriya smirked, a mischievous glint making itself known in his eyes, and Bakugou was taken aback. “Midoriya Izuku’s mouth can do much more than make witty remarks.”

 

     Bakugou spluttered, face turning red at the realization that his best friend was alive, and was extremely flirty.

 

     Midoriya laughed, and Bakugou smiled at the sound. He forgot how much he loved hearing his laugh.

 

       “Nah, my best friend is the flirt. He needs it for his quirk.”

 

     For some reason, his chest twinged at the fact that Midoriya had a new best friend.

 

    Midoriya suddenly turned his bright green eyes up to Bakugou’s, “You should meet him! Oh, that would be great!”

 

     Bakugou thought about it, and nodded. Meeting the boy who took his place when he was gone. Sounds great.

 

     Midorya stood up and pulled out his phone, turning away as he dialed someone.

 

       “Toshi! Hey! Umm, where you at?” He listened to what the other boy was saying, before nodding, as if the boy could see him.

 

       “Yeah, I’m in the cemetery. Can you meet me here?.... Uh, remember Bakugou Katsuki? Yeah..... Hush. Anyways, I’ll see you?... Cool, bye bye!”

 

     Midoriya hung up and pocketed his phone, whirling around to Bakugou with a bright grin. “He’s on his way!”

 

     Bakugou smiled softly at his friend, before grabbing the boy’s hand and gently tugging him to sit next to him in front of the gravestone. Midoriya touched the bracelet on Bakugou’s wrist.

 

       “You kept this?”

 

     Bakugou smiled fondly at it. “Of course. My mother put it away after I... became an asshole, but after you died, I wanted it back. I confessed to everything that I had ever done to you, and begged to know if I could still be good. If I could be like you; a pure person only wishing the best for people.”

 

     He tilted his head back to stare at the sky.

 

       “My parents told me that I would only be able to be a hero if I stopped doing it for me, and started doing it for you.” He looked over at Midoriya, and smiled at the tears welling up in his eyes. He was always a crybaby. “So, everything I do, everything I did, was for you. Because you couldn’t.”

 

       “You’re so fucking sappy Kacchan.” Midoriya choked out wetly. “It’s like you’re trying to  make me cry.”

 

     Bakugou chuckled softly, before reaching behind them and handing Midoriya the coffee he had bought. It had been a while, so the coffee was pretty cool now, but Midoriya took it and inhaled it like he was trying it for the first time.

 

       “I can’t believe you know how I like my coffee.” He said, putting the empty cup beside Bakugou’s.

 

       “I don’t,” He deadpanned. “I just remembered that you liked my Dad’s shitty coffee, and he takes that shit like sugar is going extinct.”

 

     Midoriya laughed, and they say in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

 

        “It’s kind of weird.”

 

     Bakugou looked at the boy, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

 

       “What do you mean?”

 

     Midoriya nodded at the gravestone, his hair bouncing at the small movement. “Seeing my own gravestone, and knowing I’m not dead.”

 

     Bakugou nodded. “Oh yeah, that must be a weird feeling.”

 

     Midoriya chuckled softly. “It really is.”

 

       “What do you go by?”

 

     Midoriya looked over to the boy, locking eyes and understanding dawned him.

 

       “Oh. Akatani Midori.” Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “Shut up, I was nine, and I needed a new name. I wanted to be connected to my mother but not enough to raise suspicion.”

 

     He missed the flash of pain at the reminder that Midoriya was nine when they all thought he died.

 

       “Akatani is my mother’s maiden name, and Midori is a shortened version of Midoriya. It’s absolutely foul-proof.”

 

     Bakugou hummed. “That makes sense.” A thought occurred to him. “You should tell your mother.”

 

     Midoriya flinched away like Bakugou had burned him, and believe him, Bakugou knew what that looked like.

 

     He turned wide, fear-filled green eyes towards the explosion user. “No.”

 

     Bakugou cringed at the firm tone, shock seeping into his expression.

 

       “What do you mean, ‘ no’?”

 

        “I mean my mother can never find out I’m alive.”

 

     Bakugou turned his entire body towards the smaller boy, shock border lining anger.

 

       “What the fuck?! She’s your mother! She should’ve been the first person you told!”

 

     Midoriya’s eyes darkened in anger. “A mother who forgot her son after fifty-eight days.”

 

     Bakugou wheeled back. “What?”

 

       “Midoriya Inko moved on from her nine year old son’s death after fifty eight days of mourning. That’s less than two months. Does that sound right to you?”

 

     Bakugou blinked, his anger fading into confusion. “You want her to still be in mourning?”

 

     Midoriya scoffed. “Of course not. I just wish she would feel even a small amount of pain that I felt for six years.”

 

       “Then why the hell didn’t you come back?” Bakugou practically snarled, anger coming back full force.

 

     Midoriya glared at him from the corner of his eyes. “I was the worthless, quirkless Deku. Do you think I was in the right state of mind when I heard my mom readily accept my death? I figured she would be happier if quirkless Deku was dead, maybe she could have another child with her quirk, and she would never have to drag my worthless weight ever again—“

 

       “Stop!” Bakugou cried, throwing his hands over his ears. “Stop it! Shut up! She’s still your mother! You have to tell her these things!”

 

       “No.”

 

     Bakugou took a deep breath and lowered his hands. “Fine. I will.”

 

     Midoriya’s head whipped over to stare at Bakugou in fear, but the boy was already sliding the notebook into his pocket, picking up the empty tea cup and standing up.

 

       “No!” He cried, lurching to his feet after Bakugou. “You can’t! I won’t let you!”

 

       “You can’t stop me, Izuku. Your mother needs to know. It’s not fair to her.”

 

       “I can stop you.” A new voice spoke, deeper and raspier, making goosebumps run up Bakugou’s arms. He whirled around to see a blue haired boy, with dark eye bags in the process of fading.

 

     The boy was dressed in a dark green sweatshirt, black jeans fitting toned legs nicely, and Bakugou allowed himself a moment to feel jealous over the shape of the boy’s torso, before what he said came back to mind.

 

       “You’re going to stop me?”

 

       “What makes you think Midoriya Inko needs to know her son is alive?”

 

       “What the fuck kind of—“ He stilled, the tension leaking from his body as his eyes went blank.

 

       “What do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

 

     Midoriya walked around his childhood friend, and stared into his glazed red eyes. He took a deep breath, “Erase his memory.”

 

     Shinsou sucked in a startled breath beside him. “Are you sure?”

 

     Midoriya nodded. “He was extremely set on telling my mom I was still alive, but I’m not ready to go back to her. She’ll just treat me like porcelain, not like I’ve been fighting villains and criminals since I was nine.”

 

       “If I erase his memory, he’ll be extremely confused to find himself standing instead of whatever he was doing.”

 

     Midoriya rolled his eyes.

 

       “Tell him to forget about ever encountering me and you, and tell him that there’s no way I’m alive. Then send him to lay down in front of the gravestone, put the notebook back, send him to sleep, and then continue the rest of his day.”

 

     Shinsou whistled. “Sometimes, you’re way too thorough.”

 

     Midoriya scoffed playfully. “My thoroughness is the only reason you’re alive, isn’t it?”

 

       “Shush, sweetheart. Let me do my job.”

 

     Midoriya laughed.

 

       “Alright, Bakugou Katsuki. You’re going to forget about meeting Midoriya Izuku and me at this cemetery, and you’re going to feel like there’s no chance that he’s alive. Now, go lay down in front of the gravestone, and place the notebook beside you.” He waited for the brainwashed boy to comply, with Midoriya adjusting him to make it more realistic.

 

        “Mkay, now you’re going to go to sleep for five minutes, and when you wake up, your brain will sever the hold I have on you, okay?” Bakugou’s eyes closed, and his body relaxed.

 

      Shinsou crept forwards to make sure the boy was actually asleep, and not just faking it.

 

       “I feel like I should’ve told him that I’m Machiavellian.”

 

     Shinsou gave him a weird look. “Why? I was going to erase his memory either way, what does him knowing you’re Machiavellian for three seconds change?”

 

     Midoriya shrugged, rubbing his arm, before Shinsou ushered him away from the sleeping boy, and they sprinted to the nearest train station.

 

     Sitting on the train back to their city, Midoriya slumped over into Shinsou’s side, the two of them lucky enough to get seats. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

 

     Shinsou began running his fingers through the smaller boy’s hair. “It’ll come and go.”

 

     Midoriya laughed, and when they got back to the base, he confirmed that his gravestone was there, and after telling Hatsume about his encounter with his childhood friend, it was never spoken about again.

 

 

     Bakugou opened his eyes, finding himself slumped onto his side in front of Izuku’s headstone, and he sighed, shaking his head to rid of the fuzziness.

 

       “Fell asleep again.” He murmured, somehow not feeling all that tired as he pushed himself into an upright position. His legs were aching as if he ran without stretching, but he wrote it off as them not getting any circulation.

 

     He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, and pressed the red button. The phone stopped recording.

 

      Wow. I fell asleep for three hours. New record, anyone?

 

     He stretched his arms above his head after slipping his phone back into his pocket, more of a habit than anything, and turned to put his notebook in his back pocket. He grabbed his empty cup and Izuku’s coffee cup, before jolting when he realized it was empty.

 

      Must have spilled ... he thought, before looking at Midoriya’s gravestone.

 

       “Bye, Zuku. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

     He stood up, and made his way to the exit, recycling both empty cups in a nearby recycle-bin. He double checked that his phone and notebook were in his back pockets, before he began walking home, ignoring the world as he walked.

 

     He wouldn’t say he was lost in his own head, because he wasn’t thinking, it was more of a walking in a daze. He didn’t register what was happening around him, but he wasn’t focused on anything else.

 

       “I’m back.” He called into the house, and his mother peeked at him from the couch.

 

       “Already?” She turned and looked at the clock. “You’ve only been gone for five hours.”

 

     Katsuki shrugged while taking his shoes off, “Yeah, I fell asleep again.”

 

     Mitsuki hummed in understanding. “Well, send me the video when you’re done.”

 

     Bakugou nodded. “I will.”

 

     He made his way upstairs, knocking on his father’s door to let him know he was home, before slipping into his room and closing the door softly behind him.

 

     He shouldered his jeans off and replaced them with sweats, placing his phone on the desk while he grabbed his computer. He then hooked the phone up to his computer, plugged his headphones in, and played the four and a half hour long video.

 

     He didn’t know why he did this anymore, it was something he had down every since Mitsuki had first asked him to record the visits. He never lied to Izuku, told him about his week, his feelings, accomplishments, disappointments, everything.

 

     Mitsuki had found this out, and since Bakugou would never tell her to her face that something was bothering him, she had him record the meetings so she could find out if anything was bothering him.

 

     In case he told Izuku something he really didn’t want his mother to know, like him possibly liking boys, he would go into the video and crop it out. Mitsuki trusted that if he was cropping certain things out, it was to respect his privacy, and she didn’t want to push it. She was already asking for a lot.

 

     Bakugou rested his head on his arms as he listened to the sound of the animals in the cemetery. The birds chirping in the surrounding trees, the occasional squirrel, and cicada’s buzzing made for a peaceful susurration that played in his ears for a good hour.

 

     Then he heard grass crunching, and he mentally sighed. The new workers need to learn his face, because he always falls asleep with Izuku.

 

     He heard the person crouch down beside him, and his eyes opened when he heard himself shift. He had woken up?

 

       Izuku?”

 

     Instantly he bolted upright, his spine ramrod straight as he stared at his computer in shock. He didn’t remember that. 

 

       I-I’m sorry ,” someone stuttered, and he felt fear creeping up his spine. “ I didn’t mean to wake you.

 

     He heard himself speak, and his incredulousness grew. “ It’s okay.”

 

     There was a pause, before his voice rang out again.

 

       How long have I been out ?”

 

    Why didn’t he remember this? Did they have a memory quirk or some shit? Wasn’t using your quirk on others considered illegal?

 

       Umm, I don’t know. I just got here .”

 

       Oh. My bad .”

 

     He hit the pause button, and took a deep breath, his mind screaming,  What the actual fucking fuck?!

 

     He took a breath and steeled his nerves. He was going to listen to the rest without stopping it, and he would see how he felt when it was over.

 

     Two hours later, all of the water in his system, and one shirt later, Bakugou was sitting on the floor against his bed, hugging his knees to his chest as he tried to digest what he just learned.

 

      Midoriya Izuku was alive. Midoriya Izuku was fucking alive.

 

     That seemed to be the only thing he could think of. That, and, Man, fuck you best friend. Why the hell would you erase my memory?!’

 

     Oh yeah, how could he forget? Midoriya Izuku was also Machiavellian, the most wanted vigilante around.

 

     He duplicated the video and cropped the first one, sending it to his mother. It was obvious that Izuku held a grudge against his mother, and didn’t want her to know he was alive. He didn’t like that, but trying to tell Inko had been what had cost him his memory, so he wasn’t willing to risk it.

 

     He huffed a breath, and tilted his head back to hold the tears in. His stare turned determined as he glared at the ceiling.

 

      I will find you, Midoriya Izuku . Even if I have to track you down as Machiavellian.

 

 

Chapter Text

     Never let is be said that Midoriya Inko was a bad parent.

 

     Because she wasn’t, bad parents hit their children and called them names.

 

     She had never hit her baby, or called him any names, therefore she was not a bad parent.

 

     She loved her baby, even when her parents disowned her for getting pregnant, when Hisashi divorced her because he was quirkless, when he started coming home with injuries that hurt her bank account, when she couldn’t see her best friend anymore because their sons didn’t get along, everything, she had loved her baby through everything.

 

     She loved him so much, and she knew he would never be able to stand up for himself, never be able to fight back, because her baby was just a baby, and he didn’t need to know the horrors that the world held, so she hid them from him.

 

     She coddled him, gave him everything he ever wanted, did everything for him, made sure he was healthy, happy, and safe. If that meant he had to come home immediately after school and tell her everything, or go with her everywhere because her baby couldn’t be left alone, or hold her hand when they were walking to the mailbox because someone could snatch him away, then so be it. She loved her  son, and she would do anything for him.

 

     But as he got older, he started changing, he started questioning what she was doing, and Inko couldn’t let that happen.

 

     She was the parent and he was the baby, he should listen to her when she says something, should hang on her every word with those bright green eyes, and agree with everything. He should let her do the parenting, and not compare her to Mitsuki, because Mitsuki was different, and nobody parented the same way.

 

     Mitsuki was abusive, she called her son names, and Inko had never done that with her baby. Mitsuki had never hit Katsuki, but words will always hurt more when the person they’re coming from is someone you care about.

 

     Inko had never hurt her baby, but Mitsuki was not the same.

 

     She didn’t have a problem showing Katsuki what he would have to deal with in the real world, had no problem letting Katsuki discover things on his own, and that was irresponsible of her. She didn’t stop to think that if Katsuki discovers the wrong thing, he could be seriously hurt, and then he wouldn’t trust Mitsuki anymore. His faith that his mother could keep him safe forever would be ruined, and that was not something you did to your children.

 

     And with that child’s attitude, it was no wonder Mitsuki was always irritated. Inko’s baby didn’t have an attitude, because he knew that making his mother stressed like that was not something you do, not if you want to be a good baby. Her baby knew not to stress her out, because she was a single mother working three jobs to support them, and she could stress easily.

 

     Whenever her baby questioned something she did, she would ask him why he wanted to hurt her like that, ask him if he really thought she was a bad parent. He would always deny it, and she would beg to know why he would question her, if he said she wasn’t a bad parent. He would always cry, feeling guilty for hurting Inko, and she would make him katsudon to show him that she wasn’t angry.

 

     She knew why Hisashi left her once Izuku was proclaimed quirkless, knew she was nothing but a number under his belt, and after she fell pregnant he was overjoyed, knowing he would have an heir. When said heir was quirkless, he discarded her like the number she was, and she desperately told everyone they were still married, even after she had received divorce papers the next morning.

 

     But none of these things made her hate her baby, she loved him with her entire being. She would protect him forever, because he needed her forever. It was too dangerous for him out in the world by himself, so she would stand by his side forever, because a mother was supposed to protect her child from everything.

 

     But soon, it became too much for her.

 

     Being at Izuku’s beck and call, listening to how ‘horrible’ his classmates were to him, how he was ‘bullied’ for being quirkless, everything. It all became too much for her, and she began to slowly... do less for him.

 

     She didn’t neglect him, she fed him, and clothed him, kept a roof over his head and made sure he was healthy, therefore she didn’t neglect him.

 

     No, his emotions were too much for her. He would come home sad, and maybe a while ago, she would’ve been all over her baby, asking what was wrong, what she could do, but now, she let him be sad.

 

     She had read somewhere that a child should be eased into the real world, but since she had kept it from him for so long, she decided to take a page out of Mitsuki’s book and let Izuku figure it out on his own.

 

     He no longer came to her when he had a problem, and that was good! Because he was learning to deal with his own problems, in the same way Katsuki did with his! She would correct him if he ever got the same attitude as Katsuki, but otherwise she thinks she was doing a pretty good job raising him.

 

     Until Hisashi came home. That’s when everything went to shit for Inko.

 

     He had come home, questioning her on why she hadn’t signed the divorce papers, and she had begged him not to leave her, because her son was way too young to be tossed into the world.

 

     Hisashi had gotten mad, because apparently nine year olds should be able to do way more that Izuku was capable of, and he had called her a despicable, abusive bitch.

 

     He threatened to take Izuku away, because he may not care for the child, but he would never sink  as low as child abuse.

 

     They had gotten into an argument, because she wasn’t abusive , she wasn’t a bad parent. Yeah, maybe she had coddled Izuku a little bit too much, but she had realized that nine year olds shouldn’t be that coddled, and she had let him cope with the real world on his own, just like Mitsuki.

 

     He had gone into Izuku’s room, because he was not going  to allow Inko to abuse his son, and started collecting his things, shoving them into Izuku’s old All Might backpack, and she had begged him not to do this. He said he wouldn’t let her hurt his son, and if that meant he had to take him away, then so be it.

 

     She had gotten mad, and she had threatened to call the police on him, tell them what he was.

 

 

 

       “I’ll call the fucking cops, Hisashi. I’ll tell them you’re Zònghuǒ , and then what’ll you do?!”

 

     Hisashi had slowly turned around, smoke seeping out of his lips at the threat, and Inko had stumbled back, fear shaking her body as he stalked towards her.

 

     Sometimes, it was easy for her to forget, that Hisashi was a villain. She would become another number to him, not under his belt, but to his body count.

 

       “Call the cops Inko. Fucking call them. I’ll tell them you’re a child abuser, and you’ll join me in jail.” He had snarled, and Inko felt the rage build deep in her stomach.

 

      She was not abusive. She was not a bad parent.

 

       “I have never abused our son. I am not a bad parent. I have never hit him, or ridiculed him.”

 

     Hisashi had been incredulous, and he had thrown his head back and laughed, more smoke seeping out of his lips.

 

       “Abuse isn’t just hitting a child, Inko. You may not have hit my son, but you’ve hurt him so much. I’m taking him away, my brother would love to have a son to cherish .”

 

     He had shoved passed her, and she had tackled him, snatching the backpack off of his back as she screamed at him. She would not let Hisashi take her innocent child, and send him to that villain. That villain was the worst of the worst. She called him a liar, a fake, a kidnapper, everything, and she had punched Hisashi in the stomach, using her quirk to toss him across the room.

 

     Hisashi had collided into the wall, cracks spidering from the force Inko had thrown him, before he collapsed onto the table, smashing his stomach on the edge before he slid off. At the collision to his stomach, he had coughed, and the fire he had been holding back spilled from his lips. It was a long stream that quickly ate up the furniture, licking up the walls and filling the room with the smell of burning wood.

 

     She had shrieked, and ran into her room, snatching up all of the pictures she had of her and Izuku, before she heard the door slam open.

 

      Mom! Mom, where are you?!”

 

     Oh, god . It was Izuku.

 

     She had whirled around to get at him to get out, but she heard a horrible cracking sound, and she jumped back as a section of the ceiling fell, smashing her exit to the door.

 

     She heard Izuku cry out, before going silent.

 

     Oh god her child .

 

     She paused. Hisashi was adamant on getting him back, so was he really her child? Hisashi never wanted something that wasn’t his, and if he wanted Izuku, was he really hers? Sure, she had birthed and raised him, but he was so needy .

 

     He needed everything done for him, couldn’t do the simplest things  that most children his age knew how to do. Maybe it had to do with his quirkless status? Was his quirkless state holding him back mentally, and he wasn’t able to pick up on things as fast as everyone else?

 

     No, what the fuck Inko, this is your son. You were in labor for twelve hours for him. You’re not leaving him because he’s a needy brat who can’t fend for himself. She had thought. 

 

     She had started making her way to the door, tripping on pieces of rubble before the smoke caught up to her, and she was suddenly on the floor, body convulsing as she coughed, trying to bring clean air into her lungs. She had pushed herself to her elbows, before she heard more of the roof falling, and she whirled around in time to see the bed from above fall into her apartment, and she threw her hands out, managing to shove it with her quirk just enough so it wouldn’t crush her.

 

     She felt heat against her shoulder, and she rolled over with a scream, slapping at her shirt to put out the flames that had begun burning her clothing.

 

       Oh my god! She had screamed, pulling herself to unsteady feet as she threw herself at the window. She began banging on it, but the fire had sealed it shut, melting the glass into the frame. I don’t want to die!

 

     She coughed when her lungs had filled with ashy smoke, and her legs gave out beneath her, leaving her curled up into a ball as she accepted her death.

 

     Then there had been banging on her door. “Is anyone in there?!”

 

     Inko had looked up at the female voice, and she had screamed. Yes! Yes! Please help me! I can’t get out!”

 

       Okay Miss, we’re going to break down the door, please stay back!”

 

     Inko had scrambled back, cutting her hands and legs on the broken metal beams that had held the other apartment up, but she ignored it, because in the next second, the door had been busted down, and she was staring at the one and only Water Hose.

 

       Oh, thank god! She had shrieked, and they began working on putting out the fire as Endeavor came into the room, and she began crying in happiness.

 

       Was there anyone else in the building ?” The female had asked, Inko never bothered to learn her name, and she paused.

 

      Midoriya Inko had shaken her head no. Endeavor had leaned down and grabbed her, before addressing the Water Hose.

 

        I’ll take her out, but this apartment is unsalvageable, we need to leave .”

 

       But there could be others—“

 

       I am the number two hero. Are you questioning me?”

 

     The Water Hose had simmered in silent resentment, but had shaken their heads. Endeavor picked Inko up, carrying her over all of the rubble, and she caught a glimpse of curly green hair, hidden underneath rubble, and immediately started bawling.

 

     She was really doing this. She was going to start all over again. With Hisashi in jail, and the quirkless boy... killed in a tragic accident, she could start over. She could give herself the life she had always wanted, without a needy child taking up every second of her life.

 

     As she clutched at Endeavor, she cried, and cried, sobbing about how scared she was, how much it had hurt .

 

     The burns, cuts, or the ache of leaving her child behind, she didn’t know, but all she knew was that it had hurt.

 

     As she did, she remembered, she had never hit her child, never called him any names.

 

      I am not a bad parent , she sobbed to herself, and Endeavor carried her away from the burning apartment, away from her only, quirkless child.

 

     The building exploded, a loud booming sound that made Inko cry out and cover her ears. The explosion sent burning rubble in every direction, people ducking under each other with fearful cries to try and protect themselves from the worst of it.

 

      I am not a bad parent.

 

 

Chapter Text

   

 

     Three months after that day, the Masked Trio was accepted wonderfully into the media.

 

     Almost too wonderfully.

 

     They were accepted as if they were heros, and that unsettled the two boys because they weren’t hero’s, they were illegal minors running around causing havoc, but if the media liked it, then they were all for it. Hatsume honestly couldn’t care less.

 

     It was worth it when Shinsou caught sight of a mini little him in the shop of a window, and he immediately bought it, crying about how people finally accept him.

 

     Although it only took three months for the Masked Trio to reach Endeavor popularity, it had been almost nine months that they’ve been publicly working together.

 

     And the police still had no leads.

 

     That was one of the main reasons the police and hero’s despised the Trio, because they had been a public team for nine months, and the hero’s were no closer to catching them then that had been at the start. The media took pleasure in ripping into the police force, a lot of claims on them not being able to do their jobs correctly, etc etc.

 

     Yeah, they didn’t like that.

 

       “Stupid, brats,” Tsukauchi Noamasa, detective of the police muttered. “Why haven’t we caught you yet?”

 

     Like magic, his phone pinged with a message.

 

     He glared at his phone with betrayal, already knowing who it was.

 

     Somehow, the girl going by Daedalus had hacked into his phone, and was always sending him messages, from hinting at a new mafia boss or villain, to telling him he was out of coffee or that villain they apprehended escaped, even if their capture wasn’t aired.

 

     Every time he checked, they had coffee, and the villain was still behind bars.

 

     She just liked messing with his paranoia.

 

     That stupid Machiavellian brat did the same thing, except she did it in person, like when he left to the break room for coffee, he would get a picture of her sitting at his desk with a certain classified file that only he had access too in her hand. Every time he rushed back to his office, she would be gone, and the classified file would be too, turning up on his desk a few days later seemingly untouched. She just liked doing that to show that she had no problem getting into the police station.

 

     They were getting extremely annoying.

 

     Puppeteer wasn’t too bad, he didn’t do anything to mess with Tsukauchi himself, but he was always messing with the females in the force. The most exhausting thing he had ever had to do, was calm down two women who were arguing about who Puppeteer adored more, so it went into his file that he could be a pervert.

 

     His phone pinged again.

 

     With the most irritation he could put into a sigh, he grabbed his phone and unlocked it, leaning back against his chair to read the message.

 

 

   

    Daedalus

 

RE: Imprisonment

 

     Because you’re not good enough.

 

 

    Daedalus

 

RE: none

 

    Stop slandering my teammates, I know you are.

 

   

     This girl could creep him out.

 

    

                                     You

 

   You don’t know my thoughts,  girl.

 

 

    Daedalus

 

   Bold of you to assume I don’t, Mr. Tsukauchi Naomasa. ( ⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎ )

 

 

     Goddamnit, those stupid faces really pissed him off. H e took a deep breath, and tried to relax. Cursing out someone so connected to the media could destroy his reputation and everything he’d worked for.

 

 

                                            You

 

    Why haven’t you turned yourself in? What are you aiming for?

 

 

    Daedalus

 

    Honestly, I’m just in it for the fucking ride. (^∇^)

 

    Ooh, duty calls, talk to you later, Masa-chan. ( ^ )

 

 

     He clenched his phone in his hand, shaking with suppressed anger at the blatant display of disrespect.

 

     He would catch them and throw them behind bars, even if it killed him.

 

     As soon as that thought passed through his head, he felt immediate guilt.

 

     It was common knowledge that Machiavellian was Spider, and when Spider was a few years old, he had gotten a message from them— her, and every time he read it, he felt so guilty for going after her so determinedly. It obviously wasn’t for him, because it seemed so private.

 

      Hey Mei-san, do you think the longing I feel for my mother is punishment for what I am?’

 

     He didn’t know someone could put so much pain and longing into a single sentence. A single sentence, that put so much more confusion into Tsukauchi’s mind.

 

     What I am? Does she have a volatile quirk? Longing for her mother? Is she orphaned? Mei-chan? She obviously is in touch with an older sibling, but the databases doesn’t anyone in the system with the name, ‘Mei’.

 

     He had done a data search, and found a few people, who he questioned them all, and the only person he didn’t question was a nine year old girl, the daughter of a mechanic and businesswoman. Honestly, she was only  nine . He was just so confused.

 

     Every time he felt guilty about trying harder in capturing her and her team, he would convince himself that it was to help them, to get them back to their families, or in Machiavellian’s case, in a family.

 

      His phone pinged with another text message, and he clicked on it.

 

      And then she went and did stupid shit like this and oh lord she was so lucky she was untouchable—

 

     It was Machiavellian, of course. She had sent a picture of herself sitting by Tsukauchi’s fridge as if she owned the place, all of his caffeinated drinks emptied beside her— did she really drink all of those?! How was she so skinny?! and since it was a wide shot, that means that someone else was  in his house with her

 

     His phone rung. He instantly slammed the answer button.

 

       What the hell do you want?!” He snarled, and there was a pause on the other end.

 

       “Is this a bad time?—“

 

       “Toshinori,” Tsukauchi said in relief, slumping over his desk to lay his forehead on his keyboard, ignoring the random letters showing up onto Machiavellian’s case file. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were Machiavellian—“

 

       “That vigilante calls you?”

 

     Tsukauchi paused. Had he not mentioned it to Yagi before?

 

       “Naomasa? Does Machiavellian call you?”

 

     He sighed. There was no point in lying to the man. He could be so, so dense at times, but when he was focused, he was razor sharp.

 

       “The females from the Masked Trio text me often, usually to mess with my paranoia, but I have yet to have received any sort of message from Puppeteer—“

 

     As if cued, his phone pinged. He pulled it back, dreading to see who it was, and blanched.

 

 

    Unknown Number

 

RE: Puppeteer

 

  You so thought, didn’t you, Mr. Lie Detector? I’m so sorry to disappoint, but I decided to make room for you in my schedule. Do tell Mr. All Might I said hello.

 

     

      What. The. Fuck.

 

       “Naomasa? Naomasa? What happened—“

 

       “Toshinori something is extremely wrong. Oh my god—“ His mind was racing.

 

     He was talking to Yagi Toshinori, not All Might, so that meant that all of the Masked Trio knew about All Might’s secret. If the Masked Trio knew about All Might’s secret, than that means they hold that secret over their heads, and they can demand anything—

 

       “Naomasa, talk to me, what happened?”

 

       “The Masked Trio know about your secret.” He said in a rush.

 

     There was a long pause from the man. “Naomasa, that’s not funny—“

 

     He didn’t hear what Yagi said because he got another text from Daedalus.

 

     

    Daedalus

 

RE: Yagi Toshinori

 

   We know All Might’s secret, as you’ve figured out, Masa-chan. Either we spill it to the world, or you meet us on the roof of the location down below next week. We would normally say, ‘Come alone,’ but we know you’re going to bring as many hero’s as possible, so please limit it to three. The decision’s yours.

 

   [Link]

 

 

       “Oh my fucking god...” Tsukauchi whispered in horror, cutting Toshinori’s ranting off.

 

       “What? I told you messing around like that isn’t funny—“

 

       “Yagi, I’m going to have to call you back.”

 

     The use of his last name made the man pause. “Naomasa—“

 

     He hung up, having no patience to feel guilty, and immediately dialed Hero Nezu’s personal number. It rang three times before picking up.

 

     “Detective Tsukauchi! What a pleasant surprise—“

 

       “Nezu-san,” Tsukauchi interrupted. “I just got a message from Daedalus scheduling a meet up for next week, or else they’re going to expose One For All to the world.”

 

       “Oh,” the principal said. “This is little cause for such worry. I was planning on letting them join the Hero Course on parole anyways.”

 

       “But Nezu-san— wait, what?”

 

       “Oh! I didn’t tell you! Yuuei has been cleared for rehabilitation for many years. There had just been no cause for it until now.”

 

       “Oh,” Tsukauchi said, dumbfounded. “Just like that?”

 

     The principal hummed. “They would be required to tell us their identities if they wish to graduate, but I was thinking of allowing them to participate and show the students what the pros deal with. Intimidation, of course, is a key part.”

 

       “You’re crazy,” Tsukauchi breathed, before realizing he said that out loud. “Oh! I’m sorry—“

 

       “No need for that, young man,” the principal chucked. “I know I am considered insane to human concepts, so there is no offense taken.”

 

       “Of course, Nezu, sir,” Tsukauchi said, still sweating buckets. “We are going to meet them, correct?”

 

       “But of course!” Nezu said joyfully. “I have not managed to crack Miss Machiavellian’s defenses in their system at all! It is quite a rush to meet someone equal on a mental level.”

 

     Tsukauchi paled. Machiavellian was on the same mental level as Nezu? That was fucking creepy. That’s how they managed to slip under their radar for so long— Something occurred to him.

 

       “Machiavellian? I thought Daedalus was their mastermind?”

 

     The principal chuckled. “She is, she created all their suits and gadgets, but Miss Machiavellian is the one who created the online defenses to turn away hackers. They just convince the world that Daedalus is the one to fear.”

 

       “Wow,” Tsukauchi breathed. “Wait. Wait a freaking moment. They want to attend Yuuei? They’re kids ?!”

 

       “Oh dear,” the principal said, and there was a clinking sound. Nezu was drinking tea right now?! “You didn’t know?”

 

       “No!” Tsukauchi cried. “How young are they?!”

 

       “I believe all of them are coming up to their fifteens. Why?”

 

       “Because,” Tsukauchi hissed, momentarily forgetting who he was talking too. “Spider is Machiavellian, and Spider has been around for six years— oh my god.  She’s been a vigilante since she was nine .”

 

       “Now you see why I am eager to get them into Yuuei? They obviously have talent, and if Machiavellian’s story comes out against us, instead of with us, it will make all hero’s look bad.”

 

     Tsukauchi nodded, before realizing that the hero couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I understand.”

 

       “Great! Tell them we will be glad to meet up, and you, myself, Eraserhead, and Present Mic will show up.”

 

       “Why those two, if I may ask? Why not All Might and Endeavor?”

 

     The Hero paused. “Because if Machiavellian is who I think she is, he is not fond of either.”

 

     Before Tsukauchi could ponder what the effing hell Nezu meant, the principal bade him a good day, and hung up.

 

     He sighed, and pulled his phone away from his face, staring down at his screen with a dejected look. He took a deep breath, and opened Daedalus’ message.

 

 

                                            You

 

              RE: You get your wish

 

  Eraserhead, Present Mic, and Principal Nezu will be accompanying me to the meetup next week.

 

 

    Daedalus

 

   Splendid! We will see you there, Masa-chan! ψ( ´)ψ

 

 

     After learning their ages, Tsukauchi couldn’t help but feel sad at the small face at the end of the message, instead of the usual irritation he immediately felt.

 

     Teenagers had  seen the corrupted way of society, and had put it upon their young shoulders to  try and fix it. What was the world coming too?

 

     He tensed when he got another text message, but relaxed immensely when he realized it was just Eraserhead.

 

 

  

Eraserhead

 

RE: The Little Shits

 

   Nezu’s really going to let them into the school on ‘parole’?!

 

                                            You

 

   Yep. You’re just about as overjoyed as I am.

 

 

   Eraserhead

 

   That’s great.

 

                                            You

 

   That’s it? No other reaction?

 

 

   Eraserhead

 

   I’m too tired for this bullshit. I deal with them on an almost daily basis. Anything to get them off my back.

 

 

                                           You

 

   Watch Nezu put them into your homeroom class.

 

 

    Eraserhead

 

   Don’t you dare jinx it, you broken lie detector.

 

 

                                           You

 

   Nezu did say something about the heroics course...

 

 

    Eraserhead

 

    I fucking hate you.

 

                                            You

 

   Ouch.

 

 

     Tsukauchi sighed and put his phone down, before turning to look at his computer, groaning when he saw the keyboard spam on Machiavellian’s file from when he was talking to Yagi.

 

     Speaking of which, he should probably call the man back, considering he scared he man, and then hung up without any explanation.

 

     Which made an even bigger question.

 

     How did The Masked Trio find out about One For All?

 

     ...This was going to be a lot of paperwork.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

     “Zu-chan, we’re meeting Principal Nezu, Present Mic, and Eraserhead next week. Since Principal Nezu’s coming, they already know what we want, but still, I’m so excited !”

 

       “Present Mic?!” Shinsou squeaked, leaning forwards to look at Hatsume from above Midoriya. She and Shinsou were sitting on the couch in front of the TV in Hatsume’s house, and Midoriya was sitting in-between Shinsou’s legs, using the couch as a backrest. “They’re bringing Present Mic?!”

 

     Hatsume hummed, before putting down her untraceable phone and picking up her controller. They were playing a bunch of old games and snacking on junk food, just chilling before Hatsume’s parents kicked the boys.

 

     It wasn’t as if Hatsume’s parents didn’t love the boys, they really did, they loved the way Hatsume smiled with them, brightening like when she had one of her amazing ideas, but they had just gotten back from another overseas trip, and they wanted to rest.

 

         “What’s so wrong about Present Mic?” She asked, and Midoriya was the one to answer.

 

       “Oh nothing,” he said, twisting his controller as if he could make the character on the screen turn their car quicker. “It’s just that he’s Shinsou’s absolute favorite hero, ever.”

 

       “Even more than Eraserhead?” She asked in awe, because there were times when Shinsou wouldn’t shut up about Eraserhead.

 

     Midoriya nodded, before plucking a Red Vine out of its packet and stuffing it in his mouth, before shrieking in outrage at Shinsou.

 

       “Blue shells are cheating, you asshole!”

 

       “Are they really?” Shinsou asked, in eleventh place and utterly confused.

 

     Hatsume shot a red shell at Midoriya immediately after the explosion, and he cried out about betrayal as she took first place.

 

       “They’re not,” Hatsume snickered. “Every player just gets super salty when someone uses a blue shell on them.”

 

       “Because they’re cheating!” Midoriya hissed, throwing three red shells at Hatsume and laughing maniacally when all three of them hit her.

 

     Midoriya took first place, Hatsume took third, and Shinsou took twelfth.

 

       “Cheater,” Hatsume muttered as she threw her controller on the ground, sticking her tongue out playfully at the pouting black haired boy.

 

       “What game are we going to play next?” Hatsume asked, because Shinsou was supposed to pick the next map, but she and Midoriya had seen him eyeing Rainbow Road, so they decided that that would be the last race.

 

     Shinsou picked up a random case. “What about this one?”

 

     Hatsume groaned as Midoriya grinned psychotically.

 

     Hatsume accepted her defeat, and inserted Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. She excelled at all of the Black Ops games, but Midoriya had managed to beat her every time they played MW2.

 

       “Oh, no,” Midoriya said, when Hatsume tried to pull a quick one and choose campaign. “We’re playing Multiplayer.”

 

     Hatsume felt like crying.

 

     An hour later, Midoriya had almost one hundred kills, Hatsume had twenty seven, and Shinsou had two.

 

     Both because Midoriya had jumped off the roof in Terminal and Shinsou had gotten a lucky shot in.

 

     Halfway into the hour, Hatsume had been sneaking around the library, (Shinsou was watching his killcam), and when she turned the corner, she got knifed in the stomach. The TV announced that Midoriya had an AGM missile online, and he had a killing spree.

 

       “Were you screen peaking?” Hatsume asked, a little shocked that Midoriya found her so quickly.

 

     The boy was silent.

 

       “IZUKU!” She cried, hitting him in the arm. “SCREEN PEAKING IS CHEATING!!!”

 

       “I wasn’t screen peaking!” Midoriya said, leaning away from Hatsume and fixing his headphones as if her loud yelling had shifted them. “I was just using my peripherals.”

 

       “THAT’S THE SAME THING!”

 

     The most memorable moment though, was when they had thirty seconds remaining on the clock, and Hatsume and Shinsou were standing back to back under the blue airplane wing, Hatsume watching the airplane, and Shinsou watching the building. They heard shattering glass, but neither saw anything on their screens, and their radars were based off of sound only. Hatsume desperately tried to peek onto Midoriya’s screen, because the boy had a dangerous grin on his face, but all she saw was a reddish color.

 

     As the ten seconds counted down, the two friends had hope that Midoriya would let them live, but suddenly, Midoriya stood up, and he popped up high on both of the underdogs’ screens, on top of the roof, and he pulled the trigger just as the time ran out.

 

     Hatsume actually watched the Killcam, since it was the last kill, and she saw Midoriya stand up, aim his sniper rifle at Shinsou, pull the trigger, and then watched in awe how the bullet soared through the air, going straight through Shinsou’s head and right into Hatsume’s. The game listed off a bunch of achievements at that, but she and Shinsou just stared at Midoriya in shock.

 

     The boy smugly set his controller down on the ground, before grabbing an orange starburst and popping it into his mouth, chewing it like the monster he was. He then tilted his head back to look at Shinsou, who was placed last with three kills.

 

       “You want to play again?”

 

     Shinsou smacked him with a pillow, and that was his declaration of war.

 

     There were no headshots whatsoever in any of their pillow fights, ever since they had one a while ago and knocked Midoriya’s headphones off. The outcome of that was not pretty. The three of them happily stuck to body blows, but the boys knew if they hit Hatsume in the chest too hard, she’d kick them where the spot doesn’t shine, so they were gentler when smacking her with the soft pillows.

 

       “Alright kids,” Hatsume’s father came into the room, clapping his hands together. “Party’s over, it’s time for you to go home.”

 

       “Yes Hatsume-san.” The boys said in unison, putting the pillows back into their proper places, and beginning to pick up all the trash they left in front of the screen, while Hatsume whined.

 

       “Daaaaaaaaad.”

 

       “No, Mei.” He sighed when she pouted. “Come on, we’re not banning them from coming back. It’s just time for them to go home. Your mother and I—“

 

     As if she had been summoned, Hatsume’s mother came into the room, and she practically beamed in delight when she saw Shinsou and Midoriya.

 

       “Midori! Hitoshi! It’s been a while since you came over!” She practically danced over to the two, and squeezed them into a hug, the two boys squirming with playful complaints. “You should really visit more often.”

 

       “Yeah, Dad ,” Hatsume said accusingly.

 

     Her father sighed in defeat, and threw his hands up, turning around to walk away, muttering about teenagers and manipulation.

 

       “I love you!” Hatsume called, and her father’s grumbling stopped.

 

     Hatsume’s mother looked at her husband’s disappearing form, then down at her daughter. “What did I miss?”

 

       “Dad was trying to kick Mido-chan and Hito-chan out.” Hatsume said, and her mother’s face twisted into one of guilt.

 

     She ran a hand through her straight pink hair, her white Zoom eyes darting to the side as she chewed on her lip. “Well...” She said. “I did want to turn in early...”

 

       “It’s okay Hatsume-san!” Midoriya assured. “Toshi and I have some shopping to do anyways.”

 

     At the reminder, Shinsou groaned and let his legs collapse beneath him, falling to the floor like a damsel in distress as Hatsume’s mother laughed.

 

       “Oh, silly boys.” She said, a wide smile on her face. “I promise you can come back, but if you would please?”

 

     Shinsou smiled softly. “No problem Hatsume-san. Thank you for having us.”

 

       “Thank you for coming.”

 

     Hatsume walked them to the door, her mother already making her way upstairs, and patted both of their heads.

 

       “I have a video of Shinsou falling onto the electricity boy and saying that very vulgar thing, if you want it, Zu-chan.” Was her farewell before she closed the door with a mischievous smile.

 

     Midoriya laughed hard , and teased Shinsou all the way to the mall.

 

       “Let’s get some coffee.” Shinsou said, and Midoriya readily agreed, ready for some sugar in his system.

 

     They both walked into a coffee shop that they went to often, waving at a few people they recognized from their frequent visits, and waited in the short line for their turn. They already knew what they were going to order, so Shinsou rested his entire weight against a groaning Midoriya, the few frequenters smiling at what was going to become their shenanigans.

 

     From the corner of his eye, Midoriya sees lightning boy and large elbows in one of the booths, because large elbows wasn’t so subtle in his pointing them out. When lightning boy turned around, Midoriya took a step forwards in the line, and Shinsou fell right over onto his side with a squawk. The girl standing behind them was a frequent customer, so she just laughed and stepped over the insomniac.

 

     After Midoriya payed for their drinks and was waiting for them to be made, he turned around and was shocked to find Shinsou still laying on the ground.

 

       “Toshi!” He hissed. “Get up!”

 

       “No.” Shinsou said. “You put me here, you’re going to have to get me out.”

 

     The costumers giggled, like the traitors they are.

 

     Midoriya stood up straight and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Toshi get up, this isn’t funny.”

 

       “The snickers from the customers say otherwise.”

 

       “I swear to god.” Midoriya muttered.

 

       “Swearing isn’t a good thing to do, sweetheart. ” 

 

     Midoriya leaned down and pulled at Shinsou’s arms, trying to get him to sit up, but Shinsou lolled his head back and went slack like a petulant child. 

 

     Midoriya huffed a breath, and grabbed him around the waist, hoisting him straight up, but Shinsou slumped forwards.  Midoriya yanked his shoulders up to make him stand up straight, and Shinsou’s head lolled to the side. As soon as he was standing up straight, Shinsou’s legs gave out underneath him, and Midoriya let him fall. All of the customers around them were laughing.

 

     Normal restaurants or shops would politely ask trouble makers like them to leave, but most people found the two best friends hilarious, amusing at least. Those people would tell their friends, and then the shop would gain more customers. Business.

 

       “Akatani? Shinsou?”

 

       “Sweet! Coffee!” Midoriya said, making sure to step on Shinsou’s chest as he walked by, the boy heaving at the heavy weight. Midoriya snatched his coffee up, and drank it like a dehydrated man getting his first sip of water. It was gone in no time.

 

     Shinsou stood up and walked over to the counter, making to grab his coffee.

 

       “Man, no wonder you’re so heavy—“

 

     Midoriya elbowed the boy in the side, and he doubled over with another heave.

 

     Everyone laughed.

 

     Kaminari couldn’t help but feel as if they were dating, and for some reason, that thought filled him with sadness.

 

 

       “So!” Midoriya said once Shinsou had finally finished his coffee. “Where do you want to go? A normal store, or a high class store?”

 

       “I don’t know.” Shinsou hummed, recycling his paper coffee cup. “We’ll just walk around until we find something, yea—“

 

       “Oh!” Midoriya said, excitement coloring his tone as he snatched Shinsou’s arm and began dragging him towards a store. “Let’s go into the hero store!!!”

 

     Shinsou groaned playfully, but allowed the smaller boy to drag him into the store.

 

     The cashier was a bored-looking teenager, with multiple piercings upon his eyebrows and lips, and he didn’t even bother looking up from his phone to greet them. Midoriya scrunched his nose when the smell of new clothing hit his nose, but the smell the teenager was letting off wasn’t any better.

 

     There were a few other people in the store, the majority parents who had been unwillingly dragged into the store by their hyperactive kids. Shinsou could relate. There was a group of four adults standing near the No. 13 area, but Shinsou’s eyes had zero‘d in onto a shirt that said, ‘Little Listener’ with a tiny, chibi Present Mic sitting in the corner yelling it.

       

       “Ohmy, ohmygod,” He said, tugging Midoriya towards the shirt, ignoring the blackette’s indignant squawk. The boy grabbed a nearby cart and pulled it beside them, because he knew they both were about to lose a lot of money. Shinsou snatched the shirt off the rack, and made a happy squeak when he noticed it was in his size.

 

       “Put it in the cart,” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, before smiling when he saw Shinsou’s bright beam.

 

     Shinsou gently placed the shirt into the cart like it was a precious child, and whirled around to keep looking.

 

       “Isn’t there a Present Mic section around here?” He asked, talking a few steps to check the other aisle, before an ‘ooh’ sound slipped out of his mouth, and he grabbed three more Present Mic shirts and laid them into the cart. He then leant over to peer down the other aisle, before a startled laugh came out of his mouth and he darted over to whatever he had seen.

 

     Midoriya sighed, and pulled the cart back to turn and follow the boy, trying to ignore the way the group of four adults had instantly stopped talking when Shinsou asked about a Present Mic section.

 

     Before he could take more than three steps, Shinsou came sliding from behind the aisle, his sneakers making a horrible squeaking noise, and his arms were thrown out like a starfish to keep his balance. What he was wearing made Midoriya throw his head back and laugh.

 

     Shinsou had found a loose, long sleeved black shirt, and had tucked it underneath a black and silver belt he had clipped around his waist. He had a woman’s grey scarf around his neck, and yellow swimming goggles over his eyes, but the affect was not lost.

 

     He slipped into a fighting stance, before ducking down and twirling through a few of Eraserhead’s signature moves. His scarf got caught around his shoe, and he squawked as he stumbled to the side, before having an intimate moment with the floor.

 

     Midoriya wasn’t the only one to laugh this time.

 

     He turned to see the group of four adults from earlier, and he actually looked at them, before his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped.

 

     It was three men and one woman. The woman had dark navy blue hair pulled into a ponytail behind her, but Midoriya would recognize those red glasses anywhere. Kayama Nemuri, hero name: Midnight, quirk: Somnambulist. It allowed her to put her targets to sleep by releasing an aroma—

 

     He noticed the other men, and blanched.

 

     Iida Tensei, hero name: Ingenium, quirk: Engine.

 

     Yamada Hizashi, hero name: Present Mic, quirk: Voice.

 

     ...and Aizawa Shouta, hero name: Eraserhead, quirk: Erasure.

 

     Two of which were hero’s they were going to meet next week.

 

       “You looked—“ Midnight panted, her hand on her hip as she tried to regain her breath. “Exactly like Shouta— when he first— used his capture weapon.”

 

       “He did—“ Ingenium gasped, having the same problem as Midnight. “He really did.”

 

     Shinsou’s head whipped up at the sound of the R-Rated Hero’s voice, and his jaw dropped when he realized he just impersonated a hero in front of him and his friends.

 

       “Shut up,” Eraserhead hissed.

 

       “You did good, little listener.” Present Mic said, flashing a thumbs up at Shinsou, and he made a sound that could only be described as a... fanboy getting pointed out by their favorite hero ever. 

 

     He jumped to his feet, his face red as he stuttered apologies, and the three aboveground hero’s laughed.

 

     “I didn’t even know people knew about the mysterious Aizawa Shota,” Nemuri laughed. “He claims he does so well in staying incognito.”

 

       “Obviously not well enough.” The man nodded at Shinsou. “How’d you learn to use my moves so well?”

 

     Shinsou wordlessly pointed to Midoriya, like the backstabbing traitor he was—

 

     Four pairs of eyes turned to him, and he squeaked.

 

       “Uhm... hi?” They had decided that if they ran into the hero’s before their scheduled meet up next week, and they were out of costume, Midoriya would barely be able to talk to them, because Machiavellian had no clue sassing tf out of them.

 

       “Oh. My. God.” The R-Rated Hero began squealing and Midoriya squeaked in mock fear.

 

       She lunged at him, ignoring the men calling her name, and Midoriya dove onto Shinsou, shrieking about his headphones being ripped off as he clutched at the taller boy.

 

     As Shinsou swung around to keep Nemuri away from the smaller boy, Midoriya pressed his head against Shinsou’s neck, and prayed to whatever deity would hear him that his headphones stayed on.

 

     Eventually, Iida and Aizawa managed to snatch Nemuri away, and began chastising her about why lunging at minor boys, or children in general, was wrong.

 

     The cashier ignored all of this, while everyone in the store gave them weird looks, but continued shopping, not noticing three well-known pro hero’s, and two wanted vigilantes.

 

       “Are you okay?” Yamada asked, approaching the two boys still pressed tightly together.

 

     Shinsou’s head shot up, as he made a squeaking sound and dropped Midoriya in his butt.

 

       “Ow!” He cried, kicking Shinsou behind the knee so his leg gave out. “Jerk!”

 

     With the two of them laying on the ground from different injuries, they couldn’t help but laugh.

 

       “Seriously, are you okay?” Yamada asked, and Shinsou made another squeaking sound, before trying to lurch to his feet, only to smash his head on the counter behind him. Midoriya was rolling on the ground choking on his laughter.

 

       “We’re okay, Present Mic-san.” He managed to wheeze. “Toshi’s just going to kill himself because you’re his favorite hero.”

 

     The man seemed shocked, and in awe. His friends were watching them from behind.

 

       “Really?” He breathed. “Even more than All Might?”

 

     Both boys flinched at the name, both for different reasons, but the action didn’t go unnoticed by the hero’s. Shinsou shifted his weight uneasily and glanced over at Midoriya, the boy’s black hair and headphones casing a shadow over his eyes.

 

     The boy stood up, and looked Present Mic in the face, before a smirk tugged at his lips. His eyes were still sad, something that the hero’s took notice of, and wondered why someone would not like to mention All Might.

 

       “He says, ‘ Dear Mic ,’ instead of, ‘ Dear God ’.”

 

       “Midori!” Shinsou screeched, slapping his hand over the boy’s mouth to keep him from spilling anything else. He turned his red face to look at Present Mic’s awed one, and flushed darker.

 

       “That’s adorable.”

 

     Both boys turned to see the other three approaching, Iida being the one who spoke. Nemuri stepped forward with an almost sheepish look.

 

       “Sorry about that.” She said, before her gaze turned seductive and she licked her lips. “Cute things just get me going .”

 

     Midoriya blinked in shock, his face turning pink, even more so when Shinsou suddenly slid one hand around his neck, and the other around his waist.

 

       “Hmm, but I won’t be going down without a fight for this one,” his voice became one of Puppeteer’s. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart ?”

 

     Midoriya gave out a full-bodied shiver as his face turned darker than the blood running through his veins, because Midnight was laughing hard , my god

 

       “I like you,” she said, her voice wheezy as she smiled at Shinsou. “How long have you two been dating?”

 

     Instantly, Shinsou released Midoriya as if he had been burned, waving his hands in front of him almost violently, as if he could shove all of the truth towards her without saying anything.

 

     Midoriya laughed at his misery, before turning to the R-Rated heroine. “We’re not dating, Midnight-san. We’re just extremely close.”

 

     Midnight blinked. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

 

       “Anyways,” Ingenium shoved in. “We heard you were looking for a Present Mic section.”

 

     Suddenly, Shinsou was listening. “There’s one here?!”

 

     He flushed a dark red when Present Mic pressed a hand to his chest and fell back into Eraserhead as if he had been shot.

 

     Iida laughed, before nodding. “Yep, but it’s in the back, reserved for Hero families only.”

 

     Shinsou slumped onto Midoriya as if he himself had been shot, and Midoriya squawked at the unexpected weight.

 

       “Whoa!” Ingenium said. “I want a picture with the two of you, and you can come in with me.”

 

      Instantly, Shinsou perked up, and Midoriya had to fix his headphones when the boy shifted them. Taking them off in the middle of a mall was not the ideal situation.

 

       “Really?!” Shinsou said, bouncing on the balls of his feel excitedly. Ingenium nodded.

 

       “You two are adorable, I’d love to be able to tease Erasermic on their fans.”

 

     Midoriya and Shinsou both paused. “Erasermic?”

 

     Instantly, all four hero’s paled, and Ingenium took a step back with dawning horror when he realized his slip up. Before any of the hero’s could deny anything, Midoriya whirled around to Shinsou with a triumph cry.

 

       “I told you so!” He shrieked, poking the boy, before holding his hand out. “Pay up!”

 

     Shinsou groaned in defeat, dropping his head and pulling his credit card out of his back pocket, before handing it to Midoriya, who snatched it and held it above him like it was a prized possession, cackling manically.

 

       “You’re not... weirded out?” Nemuri asked, a little shocked over the two boys’ reaction.

 

     Midoriya turned to her, slipping Shinsou’s credit card into his back pocket, and shook his head. “Why would I be weirded out? I knew it, but Shinsou said that Eraserhead was too emotionless to love someone, so we bet on it, and I won! His credit card is mine for the day.” He rubbed his hands together evilly, and cackled like a witch.

 

       “And if we weren’t dating?” Aizawa asked, a little miffed that someone he didn’t even know could figure out he was in a relationship.

 

       “Then I would’ve had his credit card for the day.” Shinsou said, as if it was obvious.

 

       “What do your parents think about you betting on your bank accounts?” Iida asked, a little worried that two boys could just toss around money like that.

 

     Both boys froze, and Midoriya curled into himself as Shinsou glared at the ground.

 

    Another part of the act. Meek, affection seeking orphans, when thought about, wasn’t really an act. The hero’s fought the urge to take a step back at the sudden mood change.

 

       “We’re orphans.” Midoriya whispered, the pain in his voice gauging a hole into the four adults, and Aizawa could relate.

 

     His parents kicked him out when he came out as gay, but Yamada’s parents had accepted him like he was one of their own. Which led to a slightly awkward conversation when he and Yamada came out as dating.

 

       “Oh,” Iida whispered. “I’m sorry.”

 

     An awkward silence fell over the group, before Shinsou looked up.

 

       “So, about that picture.”

 

     

 

       “Oh my GOD—“

 

     What the two boys were expecting when Ingenium said there would be a back room, was boxes, huge crates, and an overall unfinished feel to it.

 

     It was not like that at all.

 

     The entire room was larger than the front shop, and it was cleaner too, with perfectly polished floors, un-chipped paint, and a cashier that greeted them when they walked in, waving them in when the hero’s showed her their hero license. There was hero merchandise everywhere, from the least known hero’s, all the way up to All Might, which both boys avoided looking at.

 

     Clothing, to accessories, to Knick knacks, to costumes, to support items, you name it, it was there.

 

     The two boys were practically trembling with barely suppressed excitement, and Iida chuckled at the sight, such a different way from the way his little brother acted.

 

       “Try not to break anything, please.” He said, and they nodded vigorously. “Go ahead.”

 

     They were gone.

 

       “Wow.” Eraserhead muttered. “That was fast.”

 

       “Do you think they have speed quirks?” Nerumi asked, before the cashier politely asked them to supervise the two boys, since they were not of hero background. The only reason he let them in, was because he got a picture with Midnight, his favorite hero.

 

     They began walking to try and find the boys, and every time they were close, the boys would zip away in a blur of colors, and the hero’s would be off trying to find them again.

 

       “I don’t think so,” Yamada hummed. “The black haired one was wearing heavy-duty sound-canceling headphones, so maybe he has a hearing quirk?”

 

     Iida shrugged before taking a step forwards and a small figure crashed into him. He took a step back as said black haired boy fell on his bottom, adjusting his headphones before smiling up at the hero sheepishly.

 

       “Sorry,” He said, pushing himself to his feet. “I just ran into this super freaking cute boy, knocked him over, called him gorgeous, ran away, and now I’m so ready to die —“

 

     Midnight and Yamada began howling with laughter, while the boy turned around to continue shopping, before Eraserhead’s capture weapon shot out and wrapped the boy up around his torso.

 

     The boy squeaked, and began squirming in the weapon, but Eraserhead just brought him closer.

 

       “How are you so fast?” PThe underground hero asked, staring at the boy as if he could will an answer out of him. The boy didn’t even glance at him, instead marveling at the capture weapon as if it were for sale itself.

 

       “Years of running away from bullies.” He said distractedly, turning around when Shinsou darted between aisles, slowly becoming more and more stocked with clothing.

 

     That shut Midnight and the voice hero up quick, while Eraserhead dropped the boy in shock, and the boy darted away, not a clue of how his answer affected the heros.

 

       “Bullies?” Iida whispered in horror, shifting his weight and staring at the ground. “I thought schools were strictly no bully policy?”

 

       “I don’t know,” Eraserhead whispered back. “But it does explain their freakish speed. If they spent their whole life’s running away from harm, they would know exactly how fast to run to keep out of reach.”

 

     That thought depressed the best friends, but their moods were hidden quickly when they finally caught the two boys, and they just had to laugh.

 

     Instead of the blue haired boy dressing as Eraserhead, he was now dressed as Present Mic, the leather jacket and speaker looking right at place on his shoulders, gloves on hands as he pointed finger guns at the smaller boy, who was dressed as Eraserhead.

 

       “I’m buying this,” the Present Mic cosplayer said, and the other boy grinned cheekily.

 

       “With what money? I have your credit card.”

 

     The boy paused at that, before slumping onto the smaller boy with a loud whine.

 

       “Don’t do this to me Midori, my sweetie pie.”

 

       “Gross!” The younger boy shrieked, shoving the taller boy’s face away when he made a kissy face. “You’re paying for everything!”

 

      The taller boy instantly pulled away, grumbling under his breath about stupid boys making him broke.

 

     Before the pros could even begin to comprehend the boy’s friendship status, Endeavor’s youngest son walked passed their aisle. Upon seeing his dual-toned hair, Midoriya squeaked and shoved Shinsou in front of him, clutching at his shirt and cowering behind him like a dog getting scolded.

 

      “What was that?” Shinsou asked once the boy was out of ear-shot, turning to the smaller boy with a raised eyebrow.

 

       “That was the boy I fell onto and called gorgeous,” Midoriya whined, and Shinsou threw his head back and laughed, ignoring the way Midoriya tried to shove him to shut him up.

 

       “Todoroki?” Midnight asked, shock coloring her tone.

 

     Midoriya turned to the heroine. “Is that his name?”

 

      Midnight nodded. “Todoroki Shouto, son of Endeavor.”

 

     Instantly, Midoriya slumped over, and Shinsou had to catch him. “Why do all the hot guys have fire quirks?” He whined.

 

       “What’s wrong with fire quirks?” Eraserhead asked, legitimately confused.

 

     The boy was silent, before, “A fire quirk is the reason I’m orphaned.”

 

       “Oh,” the hero said, and that was all he could say.

 

       “Well! I’m ready to buy this store, so let’s see how bankrupt Toshi here will become!”

 

     The tall boy— Toshi?— groaned and began taking off the Present Mic costume he was wearing, laying it into a cart the four friends hadn’t seen earlier. It was pretty full, from Present Mic merchandise, to Ingenium, to Thirteen, to Snipe, to Ectoplasm, to Ms. Joke, but no All Might or Endeavor merchandise anywhere. The hero’s decided not to mention it.

 

       “What?!” Midnight cried. “Where’s my merch?!”

 

     The two boys looked like a deer caught in headlights. The taller boy shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck, pointedly avoiding eye contact as the smaller boy bit his lip, and spoke, eyes to the ground.

 

       “Midnight-san... your merchandise isn’t... made... for younger kids like myself and Hitoshi.”

 

     Before Nemuri could indignantly say anything, Iida slapped a hand over her mouth and nodded, “Fair enough.”

 

     A new girl was ringing up the two boys, but she blatantly flirted with Iida, twisting her blue hair on one finger as he shifted awkwardly, not knowing how to tell her he wasn’t interested without sounding rude.

 

     Shinsou snapped his fingers in front of the girl’s face, and she blinked back to reality, turning to look at the him instead of staring at Ingenium.

 

       “Ingenium-san is not looking for a one-night stand, or someone who only likes him for his money, Miss Cashier. If you would please stop scanning the same sweatshirt, that would be great.”

 

     The girl’s face flushed red, outlining her dark eye bags and the colors in her large eyes changing quickly, her blue hair starting to shine like... a bubble.

 

     Shinsou tensed, and slowly looked down to her name tag, dreading it, but already knowing it was true.

 

     ‘Hi, my name is Shinsou.’

 

     This girl looked to be around his age, but with her last name and Shinsou’s parents quirks, he knew she was a few years younger. It hurt, to think that his parents would replace him so quickly, to try and rid of his memory by having another child, this time with the perfect quirk.

 

     Midoriya realized it the same time he did, and clutched the back of his shirt while Shinsou’s younger sister continued ringing them up. Should she even be working right now? She’s a few years younger than him at least. Are interns allowed to be that young?!

 

     When the last of their clothing had been bagged, she dropped the bag onto the counter and glared at Shinsou.

 

       “I can see why Mommy and Daddy gave you up, you monster.”

 

     Shinsou violently flinched, and she glared at her older brother one last time, before turning around and walking away, into the back room for god knows what.

 

     Midoriya turned to him, the hero’s staring at the girl’s retreating back in shock. How could she say that to someone she didn’t even know—

 

       “Hitoshi...” he whispered, as Shinsou fought the tears wanting to claw up his throat.

 

       “Why am I so surprised?” His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “I knew they would replace me, but why does it hurt so much? —“

 

     Midoriya pulled the shaking boy into him, and looked at the adults that were now staring at Shinsou in shock.

 

       “I thought you were an orphan?” Midnight whispered.

 

    Shinsou sobbed. “I am. T-hey put me up for adoption when m-my quirk manifested—“ he cut himself off, shaking as he tried to stop the tears, because they didn’t deserve his pain.

 

     They didn’t deserve any of his emotions, but deep down, they were still his parents, and even if he didn’t want to, he still yearned to have their love.

 

     He thought he had gotten rid of any feelings for them, the parents who he couldn’t even remember, who had tossed him aside like trash because of something he couldn’t control. He thought he had successfully constructed the titanium walls around his heart, to make sure nothing would ever hurt him again, but Midoriya and Hatsume had weakened the defenses by a ton, and his parents replacing him sent an iron spear through his marshmallow walls.

 

       “Hitoshi’s quirk is a freak mutation.” Midoriya whispered, rubbing his hand comfortably up and down Shinsou’s back.  “His mother can control bubbles and his father can manipulate colors. When Hitoshi manifested his quirk, he was immediately tossed into an orphanage, where he—“

 

       “Don’t—“ Shinsou said, but Midoriya ignored him.

 

       “—was forced to wear a muzzle so he wouldn’t use his quirk.”

 

     Yamada flinched. He remembers wearing the muzzle. His parents hadn’t meant any harm by it, just until they could find a place for him to practice his quirk without making everyone deaf again, but that kind of trauma stays.

 

       “What is your quirk?” Yamada asked slowly.

 

     Shinsou pulled away from Midoriya with one last sniff, and wiped his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned to the hero’s with a broken smile.

 

       “Thank you so for bringing us back here, I’m extremely gratefull, but I think I need to go.”

 

     He turned and began walking away, wrapping his arms around himself as he stared at the ground, and tried to process that face that his parents replaced him as if he was nothing but a damaged, broken, toy—

 

     His vision became cloudy, and he wiped the tears away and continued walking, ignoring all of the concerned stares he was getting.

 

     He heard Midoriya thank the shocked heros profusely, and apologize for leaving so suddenly, before the smaller boy was right beside him, a gentle warmth that kept Shinsou from freezing over in hatred. Shinsou would later feel bad for making the smaller boy hold all of the bags.

 

       “Thank you,” He croaked, his throat scratchy from trying to hold all of his emotions back.

 

     Midoriya nodded. “Anytime, Toshi.”

 

 

     Watching them walk away, Yamada turned to his high school sweetheart.

 

       “Shota—“

 

       “You want to adopt them.”

 

     Yamada turned his biggest, pleading, puppy dog eyes on, the one his boyfriend was weak to, and heard him sigh.

 

       “We can look for their orphanage—“

 

     Yamada cried out in happiness, crushing his inch shorter boyfriend to his chest.

 

       “And then we can ask them  if they want to be adopted.”

 

     Yamada squealed, pecking his boyfriend on the cheek. “You won’t regret this!”

 

       “Shouldn’t you two get married before adopting children?” Iida asked, his mother’s strict parenting kicking in.

 

     Yamada turned to his best friend and stuck his tongue out, before looking back to the crowd to try and find where the boys had disappeared too.

 

     In that split second, they had disappeared into thin air.

 

 

 

       “Are you sure you're  ready for another patrol?”

 

     Shinsou nodded, putting his mask onto his face. He had laughed when Midoriya was being suited up, and that was a good thing, it meant he wasn’t that affected by meeting his younger sister anymore, but Midoriya didn’t want to risk him losing focus because his parents are assholes.

 

       “I promise you, I won’t lose focus, okay?” Shinsou smiled at Midoriya, before slipping his voice changer on.

 

     Midoriya nodded, and Hatsume sent them off.

 

    Three hours later, he was wishing he made the same promise.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     “Shitshitshitshit shit—“ Midoriya hissed, running as pain raced up his back every time he took a step. It felt like an iron whip being lashed across his back, white hot pain making his head spin as his warm blood made his back sticky.

 

     He had been patrolling as usual, talking to Shinsou on the new comms device in their ears, when he had run into a criminal, tied him up, before his downed friend who was not-so-downed shot him in the back. Twice .

 

     Goddamn, his back burned. He was suppressing his memories of burning fire, all around him, his legs, explosions on his shoulders, his back, burning burning burning

 

       “Izuku? What the hell happened? I heard two gunshots, and I have Eraserhead here.”

 

       “Shot— back— twice—“ He panted, trying to replenish his air supply as the bullet felt like it was sucking the air out of his lungs, and he coughed, choking on his blood.

 

     He stumbled and fell, slipping off the side of the building, and landing hard on a fire escape.

 

     Midoriya felt something snap in his chest, and white hot pain shot up to his shoulder. His mouth filled with the taste of iron, he had bitten through his lip to keep in his scream of pain.

 

     He heard the criminal climb to the top of the roof after him, and he peered around, desperate, before his eyes landed on an open window. Midoriya pulled himself onto the stairs, before throwing himself into the open window, praying it didn’t belong to a member of the police force.

 

     He landed on something soft.

 

     That soft thing shrieked and bucked up, tossing Midoriya onto his back on the floor.

 

     Pain made his vision go white, but he pushed through it and rolled onto his stomach, before his chest jabbed pain up to his shoulder and he collapsed, coughing up blood as he tried to look up at the person he landed on.

 

     He hoped this wouldn’t become a habit, because heterochromia eyes stared back into his.

 

     The door banged against the wall behind him, and he twisted to see a man with white hair and red flecks standing in the doorway with a baseball bat.

 

        “Shouto! What happene—“ he cut himself off when he caught sight of Midoriya laying on the floor like a dead fish.

 

       “Machiavellian? What are you doing here?”

 

     He pushed himself to his feet in one quick motion, biting back a loud cry of pain when his gun wound reminded him that it was still there.

 

     “You’re bleeding!” The boy with dual toned hair cried behind him.

 

     Midoriya waved him off, stepping forwards towards the door with sluggish movements. “Yes, yes, that’s usually what happens when you get shot.”

 

     The man’s eyes in front of him blew open wide, and he dropped the baseball bat with a loud clang .

 

      Oh fun. They were going to take him out with a metal bat. Manslaughter, anyone?

 

       “Here, we have a first aid kit, let me just,” the man scooped him up in his arms, and Midoriya couldn’t find it in himself to yell at him, his vision swirling as his back screamed at him.

 

      Hey hey, I’m still here, it shrieked , and bleeding quite a bit!

 

     Don’t forget about me, his ribs cried . You broke me!!!

 

     When his vision stopped swirling, he was on his stomach, laying on some pillows on the table, and there was a first aid kit beside him. He felt a cold hand remove itself from his bullet wound, and another hand grab the edge of his mesh, making to pull it off.

 

     That was good, remove the article of clothing without causing more damage, stop the bleeding, disinfect—

 

     He was in uniform. They would have to pull the fake skin up as well. That would expose him as a boy.

 

     He shrieked, and jerked his hips up, thrashing when the one warm hand and one cold hand tried holding him down. His chest felt like something was tearing into his skin, and his breathing became hard as liquid seeped up his throat.

 

     Suddenly, everything was loud, the men’s heartbeats, their frantic breaths, their steps that sounded like explosions—

 

       “Stop!” The man said, sounding like he was screaming. “We’re just trying to help you!”

 

       “Puppeteer!” Midoriya sobbed, his female voice scaring a cry out of him, before fruitlessly searching for Shinsou’s voice. “Puppet, it hurts!”

 

       “Machiavellian, where are you?” Hatsume’s altered voice usually came from the comm device in his ear, and from his canister, a way to ensure they’re always connected, but he couldn’t hear her from his ear.

 

       WheREArEtHEYpLeAsEiNeEdtHem—

 

     He heard one of them dart over to the canister, the noises sounding like explosions as he thrashed around, trying to find his sound cancelling earbuds that had fallen out. There was one cold hand pressing against his bullet wound, and a warm hand pressing his shoulders down to keep from bucking. The juxtaposition of the two sensations made for a small distraction from the pain.

 

       “Hello?! Hey! Machiavellian needs medical attention!” He heard the man cry, and Midoriya shrieked, not in the right state of mind to realize he wasn’t helping himself by making more noise. He cried, scrambling to find his earbuds.

 

       “Puppet, Puppet it hurts. ” He sobbed, his nails making bloody gouges in the table as the noise of the man talking to Daedalus screamed at his eardrums, throbbing in unison with the wounds on his back, his ribs, arms and legs. Everything throbbed, ached, pounded, and Midoriya just wanted someone to put him out of his misery.

 

       “Quietly and gently, check her ears, make sure she has her earbuds in.” It sounded like Daedalus was screaming, but Daedalus was always so smooth, calm—

 

     He felt someone gently slip his earbuds in, and he slumped over when everything went silent, sobbing, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears. As soon as the ringing died down, he heard Puppeteer’s soft, husky voice speaking to him, but all he could do was cry, and cry.

 

       “—etheart, Machiavellian, can you hear me?”

 

     He whimpered, but let out a scratchy, “Yes.”

 

      “That’s great, we’re coming your way. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

       “Hurts.” He sobbed. He knew those weren’t normal bullets. When the criminal flung his gun out to hit him, it sounded lighter than any gun he’d ever heard before, as if the gun wasn’t loaded, but he had been shot before he could figure it out. “Shot, back. Broken ribs. Shins throb. Hard breathing. Red blood. Bloodblood—“

 

       “Okay sweetheart, just talk to me. No more red okay? When we get you back, everything will be blue and purple.”

 

       “Like purple. Purple’s good.” Midoriya wheezed, coughing up more blood, painting the poor brothers’ white tile red with a stain they would never be able to get out.

 

       “Oh yeah? Why is purple good?”

 

     Midoriya was slowly relaxing, his mind getting taken off of his injuries, and zoning in on Puppeteer’s voice.

 

       “Because you’re purple.”

 

     Puppeteer chuckled, and Midoriya laid his head on the table, completely slack in relaxation.

 

     Until the cold hand shifted over his wound and white hot pain made itself known, the throbbing of everything else pounding his nerves with pain—

 

     He cried out, kicking the table to find a way to let out the blinding pain, feeling guilty when he heard a section of it snap off. That movement pressed his chest into the table, and he choked on more blood as his ribs screamed.

 

      JuSt MakE iT StOp pLeAse—

 

       “Don’t move her.” He heard Puppeteer say, and he was confused, because why would he tell him not to move himself? He jolted when he realized everything he and Puppeteer had said was not only being broadcasted into his ear, but out of his canister too.

 

      Wow. Awkward?

 

       “Puppet.” He whined. And he had just been shot twice, fallen off of a building, and was having difficulty breathing without inhaling blood, so please forgive him if he just wanted to lay down and cry. “Hurts, hurts, hurry, hurry—“

 

       “We’re outside, please let us in, Todoroki-san.”

 

     The man started, before turning and running towards the door, and Midoriya started crying tears of relief when all he saw was purple. Purple means safe, safe means no pain

 

       “Hey, sweetheart, it’s going to be okay, alright?” His voice was right beside his ear, and so, so calm, that Midoriya felt himself slowly go slack.

 

     He felt a hand run through his straightened hair, before the cold hand lifted from his back, and the boy sucked in a startled breath through his teeth.

 

       “Daedalus,” Shinsou spoke in alarm. “These bullets are poisoned.”

 

       “What?!” Hatsume said, Midoriya seeing her walk up to him with blurry vision, before her head disappeared over his back. Her voice became very scared. “Oh, shit.”

 

     That was the last thing Midoriya heard before his vision swirled and faded to black.

 

     He dreamt he was floating on a cloud in a sea of never ending blue. A soft, warm cloud that wrapped him up in love and took all of his pain away. He floated on that safe cloud for a while, before it began to float him towards a bunch of other clouds. He allowed it to float him away, away from—something.

 

     He was moving away from something, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He shifted uneasily, unable to remember what he was forgetting, before the cloud snuggled him closer, promising him that in a little, all of his fear would go away.

 

       “—eatheart, pleas—“

 

     He jolted. He knew that voice. He tried remembering, tried pulling himself out of the soft warmth of the cloud, but it felt like every time he tried to tug free, he was sinking deeper, away from that voice, away from what he was forgetting—

 

      “—uku, please don—“

 

     The voice sounded sad, like all of his joy had been sucked right out of him, and all that was left was his fear and pain. Everything that the cloud promised him would be gone if he just went with it, but if him going with the cloud promised him sanctuary, why did this voice sound so broken?

 

       “—zuku, please, please, don’t—“

 

     He was struggling against the cloud now, as it tried pulling him closer towards the others, frantically promising him everything he ever wanted would become so if he just let go—

 

       “Izuku, please don’t leave me—“

 

     Toshi.

 

     He thrashed against the cloud, and he slowly felt it’s grasp loosening.  He struggled harder, throwing caution to the wind as he flung his limbs out and thrashed like a man on fire, desperate to escape.

 

     The cloud let him go.

 

     And he surged up, coughing buckets of blood from his lungs, choking on the liquid as it seeped paused his lips and blocked his airway. He coughed and choked up blood for what seemed like forever, and once the blood finally ceased, he slumped back.

 

      He felt like he just ran a marathon with one hundred pound weights on his ankles.

 

     Someone threw themselves at him, and he coughed harder when the pressure squeeze more blood past his lips, and down the person’s back, paining it a dark red.

 

     The person was whispering into his ear.

 

       “Izuku, sweetheart, please, please don’t do that to me,” the person said, crying harder than Midoriya thought was safe, his body shuddering as his relief made his limbs jerk. “You scared me, don’t leave me, ever, you can’t, I won’t let you—“

 

       “I’m sorry,” he whispered, throat hoarse from all of the hot blood that scratched against his throat. “What happened?”

 

       “You passed out from the poison,” Ah, that was who was behind him. “And we ran you back to base, because I have a few babies who specialize in health care, and...” her voice trailed off, and Shinsou shook harder, pulling Midoriya closer until there was barely any space left. “You... drowned in your own blood.” She took a shaky breath, and continued.

 

       “Neither of us knew it until you stilled, and blood began seeping out of your mouth, and Izuku, my fucking god, we were so scared.”

 

      ... that was what the cloud was pulling him towards? Death?

 

     He felt sick. He had almost willingly gone with it. He had almost fallen for that faulty feeling of warmth the cloud had given him. He had almost given up on everything he had worked for, for a fake feeling of safety and security, when he had it right here. Here in Hatsume’s base, wrapped up in Shinsou’s arms, was his real warmth, his real feeling of safety, of love.

 

    Here, in Hatsume’s base and Shinsou’s arms, he allowed himself to break, just enough for his two best friends to put him back together. And when they did, he was all the more prettier than before.

 

 

 

      “You’re so fucking grounded.”

 

       “What?!” Midoriya squawked, twisting around to stare at Hatsume, his ribs screaming in protest at the sudden movement, and his bullet wounds making themselves known like the little shits they were.

 

     He hissed and twisted right back, allowing himself to breathe, and fixing his headphones that had shifted in the sudden movement.

 

     Hatsume sensed his problem, and walked around the little couch he was sitting on—something that was moved into the base for his recovery—and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

 

       “I said you’re grounded.”

 

       “Yes, I heard that.”

 

       “Then why’d you ask?”

 

     Midoriya dropped his head against the back of the couch, rolling his eyes skywards with a groan, and praying to any deity for patience.

 

     Hatsume’s voice was soft when she spoke again. “Because you almost died, that’s why.”

 

     They had all spoken about it, allowing themselves to realize that holy shit, Midoriya Izuku, aka Machiavellian, their best friend, a vigilante since he was nine, now fifteen, almost died . He almost lost his life   because he thought he  knocked out a criminal with poisoned bullets.

 

     Hatsume had pulled the bullets out immediately after Midoriya passed out, and they ran him to the base, where one of her babies had found the smallest amount of poison in Midoriya’s system. It was just under the amount to kill him, but she still panicked and began bleeding it out.

 

     Maybe bleeding out a poisonous substance from someone who was dying from blood loss wasn’t the best idea, but they had been panicking, and Midoriya’s heart hadn’t given out until today, three days after he was shot.

 

     His lung had been punctured,  thankfully and not, small enough to take three days to fill them up with blood. Thankfully because he hadn’t died from drowning in his own blood immediately, not because when Hatsume and Shinsou had seen the traces of poison, it was ignored in favor for the lethal substance.

 

     When they had bled out all of the poison, Hatsume had began giving Midoriya her blood, something that Shinsou feel like screaming at, because his blood type would not let him give to anyone but AB+.

 

     Anytime Hatsume had to stop and replenish her blood supply, Shinsou would sit by Midoriya’s side, worrying at the fact that Midoriya could die of exsanguination. If Midoriya’s heart gave out while Hatsume was replenishing her own blood supply, Shinsou didn’t know what he would do.

 

     Thankfully that didn’t happen, and Shinsou wasn’t planning on stressing over the what if’s ?’

 

     Before Midoriya had been shot, Shinsou had been having a lovely chat with Eraserhead, which mostly consisted of the adult questioning the teen on anything and everything, and the teen answering in quips and insults. Hatsume had been surveying the street cameras for any criminals, when they had both heard the two gunshots.

 

     Hatsume had begun searching the cameras for Midoriya, and Shinsou had whipped around towards the sound, because Midoriya was cussing his head off in their comm. He had asked Midoriya if he was okay, before Eraserhead butted in, and Shinsou took him under his quirk, and that was when Midoriya confirmed that it was him that had been shot twice.

 

     Shinsou had sent Eraserhead to continue his patrol, before he began frantically talking to Hatsume to try and figure out his location. That’s when they heard the entire commotion with the two brothers, which were confirmed as Endeavor’s sons by Midoriya, and they were both already on their way, their house the same lengths away from both of their positions.

 

     They heard the exact moment Midoriya’s earbuds came out, the way he screamed and cried, begging for Shinsou because it hurt so much. He had tried talking to him, but Hatsume had taken over and instructed the men to put his earbuds in, and only then did Shinsou get to talk to Midoriya. That was around the time they arrived at the apartment, and they cleared all the stairs as if they weren’t even there.

 

     Shinsou would’ve said that the man’s face was hilarious when he opened the door, but he instantly ran in, letting Hatsume explain the situation, and he had blanched when he saw Midoriya, still thankfully suited, but surrounded by so much blood. He looked at the boy who was obviously panicking, and recognized him as the boy from the store. Todoroki Shouto. He had comforted Midoriya, before waving the boy’s hand away, and feeling all the blood drain from face when he caught sight of the green-tinged bullets.

 

     He had called Hatsume over, because he recognized that they were poisoned, and she instantly pulled them out, her gloves quickly staining a dark red while Midoriya’s head hit the table hard. He had panicked, asking what was wrong and what he could do, the man standing behind him doing the same. Turns out, not all Todoroki’s are assholes.

 

     Hatsume had thanked the Todoroki boys profusely for not calling the cops, and told them they would pay for a new table and anything else Midoriya had damaged with his blood. The boys had waved her off, but she didn’t bother to argue, her mind was made and she was going through all of her babies, trying to remember which ones specialized in healing.

 

     Shinsou had grabbed Midoriya when Hatsume began rambling about her babies, and he nodded to the Todoroki brothers, before they both slipped out of the door and ran to the base like their best friend was going to die... wait.

 

     Shinsou had quickly stripped Midoriya of his costume while Hatsume got any and all healing babies, and they scanned the unconscious boy.

 

     It began telling them he had broken six ribs on his left side, and bruised eight on the other, his shins were fractured from losing the braces, and his lung had minuscule puncture, before it said that he had a small amount of lethal poison in his system, and they both threw cation to the wind as they scrambled to find a way to get that out. Shinsou didn’t know how much of said lethal poison could kill someone exactly, but he knew it could either be the size of a grain of salt or rice. Neither amounts were reassuring.

 

     Hatsume found a suction baby, and they had placed it over Midoriya’s bullet wound, and trained the suction onto anything that didn’t belong in his system. It had successfully drained all of the poison, but not without an excess amount of tainted blood. The scanning baby stated that Midoriya had lost three and a quarter liters of his blood, and they were both now losing their minds. Someone could die from exsanguination by losing two and a half to four liters of their blood. Midoriya’s blood loss was also NOT reassuring.

 

     He had been out cold for three days.

 

     They had been sitting by the mini bed he was laying on, talking to Midoriya about their day, and the Todoroki’s reaction to their filled bank accounts, before the scanner baby very calmly stated that in seven point three seconds, Midoriya would suffocate from blood in his lungs. They had enough time to think, wait, what? , before Midoriya began choking, blood seeping past his lips as his body convulsed, and they rolled him onto his side before googling what the fuck they were supposed to do, and following the instructions step by step.

 

     They elevated Midoriya, loosened the wraps on his back, and replaced the heavy blankets, before Midoriya opened his eyes and Shinsou threw himself at the boy, ignoring the fact that Midoriya shouldn’t have any unnecessary weight on his chest. Admittedly, Hatsume had felt the same way, but she didn’t want to rip Midoriya’s lung any further.

 

     That’s when Hatsume decided that he would be grounded.

 

       “I know, Mei-chan. I promise it won’t happen again.”

 

     Hatsume sniffed, and waved her wrench threateningly in his direction. “You bet it won’t. Because you’re not going patrolling until you’re fully healed.”

 

       “What?!” Midoriya cried. “But who knows how long that’s going to take?!”

 

     Hatsume turned around, and began walking back to the baby she was working on, she had mumbled something about changing the blood. Apparently, the Todoroki brothers hadn’t sent in any of Midoriya’s blood when it went public that Machiavellian was shot, and to be on the look out for any blood she might’ve left behind. The police weren’t expecting everyone to panic and wonder if she was okay, rather than look for any suspicious blood puddles laying around.

 

       “It’ll take six two eight weeks for a punctured lung to fully recover.”

 

       “What?!” Midoriya cried again. “But that’s like... I won’t be able to take the entrance exam!”

 

       “You wouldn’t take it anyways, you idiot.” Shinsou muttered, his shoulders sagging in relief when he reentered the room and saw that Midoriya was still awake, not drowning in his own body fluids.

 

     Midoriya groaned, because six to eight weeks was a long time .

 

     Hatsume ignored him, muttering under her breath about one thing or another, and Midoriya was touched by the amount of care they had for him. He honestly didn’t know what he would do without them.

 

     He struck by a sudden question.

 

       “When are we meeting the hero’s?”

 

     His two best friends froze, before slowly looking at each other.

 

       “Shit,” they said in unison.

 

     The next moments can only be described as a whirlwind of cuss words falling from the two teen’s lips.

 

       “...when are we meeting them?” He asked again, slower.

 

       “Tonight,” Hatsume said distractedly, sketching something into her clothing book.

 

     Midoriya blinked. “Already?”

 

       “You were unconscious, you’ve lost some time.” Shinsou said, lamenting over his own outfit since it was stained red.

 

       “Aha!” Hatsume cried. “We’ll just go in civilian clothes! We’ll have our masks and stuff, but if they question it, we’ll say it’s to hide our weapons if they try to harm Machiavellian, since it’s public knowledge that she was injured. Since it’s been three days since the Masked Trio was spotted, the media is in a frenzy.”

 

     Shinsou nodded. “That’ll work. But how will we get Zuzu’s female parts if he’s not in uniform?”

 

     Hatsume’s eyes glinted. “Fake breast and butt padding, along with a push-up bra.”

 

     The boys blanched. “Those things exist?!”

 

      “Oh, boys.” She said, shaking her head amusedly before telling them she was off to the store.

 

       “I wanna go home.” Shinsou’s head whipped over to the younger boy, leveling him with a glare. Midoriya didn’t back down.

 

       “No.” He said firmly.

 

       “Toshiii,” Midoriya whined.

 

       “No.”

 

       “But—“

 

        “No.”

     

        “You’re not even letting—“

 

       “No, Izuku. It’s too dangerous walking with high alert civilians on the lookout for you.”

 

       “Technically they’re looking for Machiavellian, not me.” He muttered, waving away Shinsou’s glare.

 

       “Fine, Fine, you party pooper. We’ll stay here and wait for Mei-chan to get back.”

 

     Shinsou nodded, and Midoriya must’ve fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again, Hatsume was standing at the table, displaying everything she bought for the three of them.

 

     He slowly pushed himself up, wary of any pain he could cause himself. When he was successfully standing, Shinsou noticed him and gently led him over to the table.

 

     He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. “Why are you showing me these?”

 

     Hatsume laughed. “Because you’re wearing it, not me.”

 

     His eyes flung open, before remembering their conversation and looking back down at the products.

 

     The bra looked like it already had breasts in it, and there was a hard wire underneath it, confusing Midoriya because his other ones didn’t have a wire. It was a dark purple, with a pretty blue flower design going up the side. Beside it, were weird skin colored things that must’ve been more padding, because upon touch, they were squishy.

 

     The black pants were slim fitting, and they also had a weird padding inside of it, not unlike the ones his uniform had. He had a loose dark green hoodie that he would wear, so he didn’t hurt his lungs any further.

 

     Hatsume originally decided that Midoriya would wear his bulky headphones, before the boys told her that Eraserhead and Present Mic had both seen Akatani Midori wearing them, and she scratched the plan. Midoriya would just wear his normal earbuds, and they were thankful that they hadn’t broken.

 

     Shinsou would be wearing normal skin tight jeans with his signature knife holsters, and a looser but fitting black sweatshirt, which Hatsume would equip with her babies meant to stun, blind, and paralyze in small amounts. He would wear normal sneakers and gloves, his mask and under mask, contacts and bracelet.

 

     Hatsume would be going in a dark blue sweatshirt, which had a picture of a lighter blue bird flying up her back, with her signature skirt and leggings, except with normal shoes as well. She would wear different gloves, her upper and lower mask, contacts and her wig. She also would hide more babies in her sweater, to insure that she and Shinsou would be able to fight back if they tried to hurt Midoriya.

 

     Midoriya whistled. “Sweet, we’ll be undercover.”

 

     Hatsume laughed. “Pretty much. The trip took longer than I though, because I couldn’t buy all of this in one store, that would’ve looked suspicious. I just wish I didn’t have to go into that adult store for breast padding.” She shuddered, and the boys winced in understanding.

 

     Shinsou looked at the clock. “Well, we have enough time to get ready and make our way over there, better to be early than late.”

 

     Hatsume nodded, handing him his stuff, and telling him to dress in the ‘relic’ room, as she would take the white room to dress Midoriya.

 

     The ‘relic’ room, was just a room with the old Spider and Puppeteer outfits, displayed like superhero suits, with Hatsume’s blueprints on creating their newer costumes. It was pretty cool to walk in there and look at how far they’ve become, but if you moved anything out of place, your head would have a nice screwdriver dent from Hatsume’s love.

 

       “All right,” she said, opening the door to the white room. “Let’s get you dressed.”

 

     Honestly, the clip on bra was so much easier to put on than the sports bra. He had asked Hatsume, since he had never experienced the weird wire pressing against his skin, and she had winced. She told him that if it started hurting, to tell her immediately, and he wondered why the hell something a female was required to wear would hurt her.

 

     She was extra careful putting the padding into the bra, and Midoriya marveled at how he now looked like he had boobs, even just in the bra. He was impressed. Hatsume turned around while he put on briefs, not used to the difference from his usual boxers. When Hatsume pulled the tight, padded jeans on, he was so glad he had showered, because the way the jeans clung to his skin could become very uncomfortable very quickly. He respected Shinsou for wearing something like this every time he went out on patrols.

 

      Hatsume laughed, and said leggings were different from jeans. Pppft, he knew that, stop laughing Hatsume.

 

       “There,” Hatsume said, finishing straightening his hair. He begged to just drink the vial she usually gave them, but she said she didn’t want to risk it with his injuries. So, he had suffered the hell device. She had slipped his contacts in earlier, so he wouldn’t mess up his hair with all his thrashing.

 

     Yes, more than half a year later, and he still likes giving Hatsume a hard time with the contacts. It doesn’t hurt, he just likes messing with her.

 

     Hatsume turned him towards a long mirror, and he nodded in approval. Even though his hoodie was loose, he still looked like a girl. His choker successfully hid his Adam’s apple, and just made him look like he had a longer neck. It was weird, but cool.

 

     She handed him his masks, and shoed him out, and he made his way to the main room, before gaping at Shinsou who was sitting on the couch.

 

     He. Looked. Good .

 

     He didn’t know if that was normal, for someone to look so good in a sweatshirt and jeans, but Shinsou made it look normal. The slimness of the sweatshirt accented his jealous-worthy V shaped torso, and the jeans, his nice leg muscles.

 

     Midoriya whistled, and Shinsou’s pink and black eyes snapped up.

 

       “You look great.” Midoriya nodded, making his way over to the couch, and trying not to feel jealous over the way Shinsou could put his contacts in himself.

 

     Shinsou smirked. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

 

     Holy crud. Midoriya didn’t have the hots for his best friend, but damn he  felt it for Shinsou’s future boyfriend.

 

     He sunk onto the couch, and slumped over into Shinsou’s side, wary of his lung injury. Shinsou slipped his arm over the smaller boy’s shoulders, and rested his head over his.

 

     As soon as he made himself comfortable, Hatsume stepped out of the room, completely dressed.

 

       “What?!” Midoriya cried. “How are you already done?!”

 

     Hatsume laughed as she walked over to the table and placed her stuff down. “Because I’ve been dressing like this since I was born, and you have a lung injury.”

 

     Mdioriya pouted when he felt Shinsou shaking with suppressed laughter. “You two suck.”

 

       “I just realized something,” Shinsou said as they were leaving the base. “I can’t call Midoriya sweetheart because I called him that in front of the hero’s.”

 

     Hatsume breathed lightly through her nose. “Well, damn. Call him... babe or something.”

 

     Midoriya laughed at Shinsou’s flaming face.

 

       “You seriously chose to meet on the roof of a Round 1?!”

 

     Hatsume nodded, and they sat in the shadows of a neighboring building. “Yes, because it’s high in the sky and no one can see us from down below.”

 

       “What if we need to run?” Shinsou said, before jerking a thumb at Midoriya. “This asshole can’t.”

 

     Hatsume paused. “I forgot about that.”

 

     Shinsou groaned, and slumped onto his back, glaring at the sky. Midoriya touched the both of them gently, his signal that he could hear people approaching, and they fell silent.

 

     Across the roof, they saw four figures step into the light, and Shinsou had to bite back a squeal at the sight of his two favorite hero’s.

 

       “Are you sure this is where they want to meet?” Eraserhead asked as they made their way to the center of the building.

 

     Tsukauchi sighed as if this was a common question. “Yes, it was in the link.”

 

       “Then why aren’t they here?” Present Mic asked, softer than his boyfriend had.

 

     Nezu popped out of Eraserhead’s scarf.

 

       “Machiavellian was shot a few days ago, their caution is understood if she can’t run. To be injured and meeting three hero’s and a detective, anyone would be wary.”

 

       “They’re the ones who scheduled the meeting.” Eraserhead muttered. “What time is it?”

 

     Tsukauchi looked at his watch. “About time—“

 

       “For us to show up?”

 

     The four adults whipped around to see Hatsume and Shinsou in the light, standing protectively in front of Midoriya,  who was still sitting on the ground. Midoriya’s contacts were glowing, illuminating his form in the shadows. Hatsume and Shinsou’s contacts weren’t glowing yet, they decided only to activate them as a warning, like if Midoriya was threatened.

 

       “The Masked Trio,” Tsukauchi nodded at them. “How are you guys doing?”

 

     He always asked that question. It was a starter, to see if the people he was questioning would lie to him straight off the bat, or if they would be truthful.

 

       “We’re managing,” Shinsou said, his deep voice making Present Mic’s eyes blow wide. Truth. “With one of us down, please excuse our caution.”

 

     Nezu waved him off. “It is understood. How is Miss Machiavellian doing in her injured state?”

 

       “I’m doing pretty good for someone who drowned.” Truth. Midoriya’s voice sounded tired, scratchy.

 

     The changer had been ruined a little with all of his screaming, and Hatsume had been worried that it wouldn’t change his voice, but all it did was make it scratchy, as if he had an extremely dry throat.

 

     The men all looked to Tsukauchi, who was staring at the female sitting on the ground in shock.

 

       “You drowned?”

 

       “In my own blood.” Truth .

 

     Damn, I know that was a serious situation, but that feels so badass to say .

 

       “You didn’t go to a hospital?!” Tsukauchi said, anger seeping into his voice. These children had witnessed their friend drown in her own blood , and they didn’t get any professionals.

 

       “Do you really think the would’ve helped us?” Shinsou asked, his voice darkening with his own anger, border lining a growl as he activated his contacts for intimidation. The pink glow made the detective take a step back. “With you guys telling the world that Machiavellian was shot, if a girl was entered into the hospital because she was shot, do you think they would’ve helped her, or put her in custody?”

 

     The men shifted guiltily, unable to believe the fact that they couldn’t help their friend because of their own meddling.

 

         “I apologize.” Tsukauchi whispered. “I didn’t even think about that.”

 

       “It’s in the past now,” Hatsume said, putting her hand on Shinsou’s shoulder to calm his angry shaking. Her voice was smooth like silk, something that Midoriya could listen to everyday. “We’re here because we want something from you, and in return, we won’t spill the secret you guys are protecting with your lives.”

 

       “You three are entered into Yuuei on rehabilitation. It is your parole.” Nezu said, sliding off of Aizawa’s shoulders and onto the ground.

 

       “We want— wait, what?” Shock colored Hatsume’s tone.

 

       “Do understand,” Nezu said, smiling like he was talking about the weather. “This was decided before you threatened the police.”

 

      The vigilante’s were shocked into silence. They were staring at the men with wide eyes, their black colored contacts shining in the light.

 

       “Really?” Midoriya breathed. Nezu nodded.

 

       “You would just need to tell us who you are.”

 

     At that, Midoriya sucked in a startled breath, and his lung twinged painfully, sending him into a coughing fit.

 

     Immediately, Shinsou whirled around and dropped to his knees, putting his hand on Midoriya’s shoulder and began gently rubbing his back.

 

     As soon as Midoriya had doubled over, the men had all taken a step forward in unison, but Hatsume had instantly pressed the button on her glove to make her contacts glow, bathing her in a bright red light as she whipped out one of her babies.

 

     She was most proud of this baby, mainly beause it was fashioned to look like a stereotypical black detective gun.

 

     She had eight rounds, and the first bullet was made of plastic, more for sound than to hit anyone, like a warning. The second and third bullet was a stunner, it would send a small amount of electricity into the person’s system, paralyzing them long enough for the body to drop to the ground. The fourth, fifth, and sixth bullets were blinders, if she shot the ground, it would release a bright light that would blind her enemies. Her seventh and eight bullets were real, and she hoped she would never have to use them.

 

     The men froze at the sight of the gun, and Nezu’s eyes narrowed, like he didn’t believe she would be able to pull the trigger. That was good, he thought it was a real gun. She had had Midoriya test it out, making sure it looked like a real gun, looked heavy enough. She clicked the safety off, and cocked it, reveling in the way Nezu’s eyes blew wide. Good, he knew she was for real.

 

       “I can’t—“ Midoriya’s voice changer cracked, dropping to his normal tone for a split second. “I can’t do that. I can’t. I won’t, Iwon’tIwon’tIwon’t—“

 

       “Breathe, sweethea—“ Shinsou cut himself off, and Hatsume paled when Eraserhead’s eyes narrowed. Damn that man, he was too smart for his own good. “Breathe, okay? No one’s forcing you.”

 

       “What’s the matter?” Tsukauchi asked, confusion and worry written in his ton and on his face.

 

       “I can’t tell you who I am. It’s too dangerous for her.” Truth.

 

       “For who?”

 

     The boy froze, as if realizing his slip up, before coughing, red staining his green mask a horrible brown color.

 

       “Please,” He coughed. “Don’t make me—“ he froze.

 

       Tsukauchi had a lie detecting quirk. A lie was only detected when the person asked knew they were lying. If they believed what they were saying though, it would not be a lie.

 

     He went by Akatani Midori. Akatani was his mother’s maiden name, and Midori was a shortened version of Midoriya. If Akatani was his mother’s maiden name, than that means it was his name too, if he wanted it to be. Midori was a nickname, meaning it was still his name.

 

       “Machiavellian?” Shinsou asked.

 

     He looked up into his pink eyes, and was amazed to see his concern through the contacts. “I can do that.”

 

       “What?!” Hatsume hissed, turning her head to look at the boy sitting in the shadows.

 

     He stood up slowly, Shinsou adjusting himself to carry his weight. What a worrywart.

 

       “My name is Akatani Midori.”

 

                 T r l u i t e h.

 

     Tsukauchi was majorly confused by his quirk, because he had never had that kind of reaction before, but he filed it away for later. He nodded.

 

       “Nice to meet you, Akatani.”

 

     Hatsume took notice of the way Eraserhead and Present Mic had gone stiff, and Nezu’s eyes were glazed, as if he was off in another land. She really hoped he hadn’t figured out their secret already.

 

     Shinsou sighed in defeat. “Shinsou Hitoshi.” Truth.

 

     Hatsume shifted, and lowered her gun. “You actually cannot tell my parents.”

 

     Tsukauchi opened his mouth to argue, but Nezu cut him off.

 

       “That can be arranged.”

 

     Hatsume nodded in relief.

       “Hatsume Mei.” Truth.

 

     Nezu clapped his hands together. “It’s nice to meet you, young ones! It has been quite a thrill to have someone match me in mentality, and I am quite sad to end your vigilantism, but from now on, you’ll be hero students attending Yuuei.”

 

       “We have to give up our titles?” Shinsou’s asked, three seconds away from brainwashing them. He had all of them, from different times they answered, in body language or words.

 

     Nezu shook his head. “Of course not! You’ll be attending Yuuei in your costume—“

 

       “Uniform.” Hatsume growled.

 

       “In your uniforms, excuse me, and you will show the students exactly what the pros have to deal with!”

 

     Midoriya nodded. “That’ll work for me.”

 

     Shinsou nodded. “Me too.”

 

       “I don’t want to be in Heroics.” Hatsume warned.

 

       “You will not be placed into Heroics, do not fret. You will be placed into the Support Course.”

 

       “Then it works for me. Thank you.” She said, her shoulders sagging from relief.

 

     Tsukauchi nodded. “I do want to see where you keep everything.” The men nodded behind them.

 

     Hatsume froze. The reaction raised eyebrows, before Midoriya paled. If they saw the base, they would know he was a boy— well shit, he already told them his name, and by Erasermic’s reaction, they were trying to deny it.

 

       “That’s fine,” He said, placing his hand on Hatsume’s shoulder. “Just know, that you will question a lot of things you will see.” Truth.

 

      Tsukauchi cocked his head to the side. “Like what?”

 

       “I’m a cross dresser.” Truth .

 

     Absolute. Dead. Fucking. Silence.

 

     Shinsou busted out laughing, doubling over and clutching his stomach as Hatsume joined him. They laughed for a long time, long enough for tears to begin steaming down their cheeks as they wheezed for breath.

 

       “You— you should’ve— seen your— faces—“ Shinsou wheezed, wiping his eyes as Hatsume panted, nodding her head in agreement.

 

       “So you are—“ Yamada began  

 

     Midoriya cut him off by pulling his voice changer off of his face, the adults wincing at the sight of blood caking his lips. “The boys you met at the store, yes.”

 

     Shinsou instantly stood up, tense, as he placed his hand on Midoriya’s lower back, just blow his wounds.

 

       “I apologize for lying to you.”

 

     Yamada nodded slowly, as if he was still trying to process it, before Nezu spoke.

 

       “So, are we going to see where you keep your things?”

 

     The adults winced at the way the three teenagers manically grinned, because these men weren’t added to the system.

 

 

     Walking back to the base was silent, the three having taken off their masks a while ago, and handing them to Nezu when he got curious as to what they were made of. They had paused for a moment when the stairs strained Midoriya’s lungs, and he had to sit down hard and breathe between his legs. The adults looked guilty at this, knowing that he still hasn’t had professional medical attention because of them.

 

     Standing in front of the abandoned building, the hero’s had shock and fear filling their systems.

 

       “This is where you guys work?” Tsukauchi breathed, his voice spelling out exactly how he felt on the matter.

 

       “Yep!” Midoriya said cheerfully, his voice changer still sitting against his chest. “Come along!”

 

     The adults followed the teenagers albeit cautiously, as if they were waiting for the best friends to whirl around and cry, “Just kidding!”

 

     That moment never came.

 

     The teenagers grinned while walking through the building, reveling in the way the adults seemed to stick rather close to them, shaking even though they denied it. When they came to the hatch, Hatsume was the first one down, and she and Shinsou helped the adults down, hesitance written even on Eraserhead’s face.

 

     Only when the hero’s were down did Midoriya begin making his way down, slowly, and closing the hatch as he went. Shinsou had his hands on his hips as he lowered him to the ground, and they began walking towards the rest of the group, ignoring the way Yamada seemed to stare at them.

 

     It was the same way getting up the latter, only Hatsume paused and shushed the adults, and Midoriya removed his earbuds, flinching when the sound of frantic heartbeats and stifled breathing filled his ears, but no one was following them. When he put them back in, Hatsume was up first, followed by Tsukauchi, Aizawa, Nezu, Yamada, and Midoriya and Shinsou, Hatsume helping the former.

 

     Hatsume stared at Tsukauchi when he walked forwards and opened the door, raising an eyebrow when he let out a squeak at the large drop below him.

 

       “You done?” She asked, and he looked at her with shock, as if she was the crazy one. “Close the door.”

 

     When the door was shut, the hero’s tensed, as if they felt like they were about to be murdered.

 

       “Now,” Hatsume said, clapping her hands together. “We’re going to enter, and you are going to stay quiet, else you’ll blow dear Midori’s ears out.”

 

     She turned around and pressed the button, feeling the shock the adults had when the wall silently slid to the right, and a smug smirk came onto her face.

 

     She walked into the opening, the adults very slowly following, before Shinsou and Midoriya made it in, and the wall slid shut.

 

     Midoriya felt Eraserhead tense beside him, and couldn’t help but feel like this man could use a freaking break.

 

     When the other wall slid open, the men flinched at the bright light, but the teenagers just walked forwards, not at all fazed by the sudden lighting change. As soon as they were inside their base, Hatsume stood behind, instantly instructing the shocked adults where to walk and not to break anything, or else she’ll stab them with a screw driver. From the way Tsukauchi flinched, she was telling the truth, and he warned his comrades of such.

 

     They all paused by Midoriya’s  recovery bed, and the teenagers pretended like they didn’t notice, because they didn’t have time to clean up the blood Midoriya coughed up and lost. With the bullets sitting in a cup beside the bed, and Midoriya’s torn, bloodied uniform tossed into a bin, it looked like they had murdered someone.

 

       “Midori,” Hatsume called, opening the door to the white room. “Let’s get you changed back, yeah?” He nodded and walked over to the room, before turning back to the adults.

 

       “Don’t touch anything, Hatsume will kill you.” Truth.

 

     Changing back was, of course, quicker than getting changed, and Midoriya was thankful to have his soft leggings back on, with normal basketball shorts over it. His contacts were a pain to get out, but he did his best to stay still. Hatsume still had him wearing crop tops, one, so he could get used to the feeling of having his midriff exposed, and two, so they could see the bandages and change them if blood seeps through.

 

     He was so glad not all crop tops were skin tight, or short sleeved, otherwise he probably would’ve died.

 

     Hatsume changed just as quickly when he was putting his causal clothing away, and when she had put her stuff beside his, Shinsou entered after knocking, and put his stuff away. His hair was back to defying gravity, and Midoriya was jealous.

 

     Since Hatsume had straightened his hair, it would stay that way for another good hour before going back to it’s original state.

 

     Together, they walked out of the room, and met the men standing in different areas of the room, inspecting Hatsume’s outfit, which was the least harmed except for her gloves, and Shinsou’s outfit, which was sitting in a sink, soaking to get all of the blood out, Hatsume’s babies and Midoriya’s sketches. He continued his notebooks, writing down his analyzations, but he didn’t do it so often, since he could keep what he was writing in his head like a book.

 

       “Do you want to see Spider and Puppeteer’s old outfits?” Hatsume asked, and Midoriya slumped into a groaning Shinsou’s side.

 

     The hero’s whirled around, probably not used to the way they were so silent— Shinsou had joined Hatsume in her game of trying to sneak up on Midoriya— and blinked.

 

       “You have their original costumes?” Nezu asked, sounding delighted.

 

     Hatsume nodded vigorously. “Of course! You’ll be shocked by how similar they are.”

 

     With the men’s interest on the costumes, Midoriya slowly trudged over to the couch and Shinsou darted over to a cabinet to grab painkillers. He made his way back to the boy, and handed them to him, who swallowed them dry.

 

       “That’s disgusting.” Shinsou crinkled his nose.

 

       “You’re just jealous I can swallow dry.”

 

     Yamada tripped over his own feet and they snickered.

 

     Shinsou nodded at the room. “Want to see their reactions?”

 

     Midoriya groaned again, but allowed Shinsou to gently tug him up and towards the room.

 

     Seeing the ‘relic’ room calls for enough shock as it is, seeing the room and never seeing its contents before then adds for an amusing amount of shock.

 

     The men were standing in the doorway, only Nezu was by Hatsume who was pointing out the best friend’s old costumes, and they shifted embarrassedly when it got through the pros head’s that these boys had been using sweatshirts and leggings to take down mob bosses and super villains.

 

     They whirled around and stared at the two boys in shocked awe.

 

       “That’s what you used?” Yamada breathed, and the boys nodded.

 

       “Hatsume made me a new outfit after the staged murder,” Midoriya said, and Tsukauchi flinched. He had been so ashamed to say he was a policeman when that story came out. “I... ran into someone from my—“ he paused, realizing he actually couldn’t say anything else. “Never mind.”

 

       “There’s something you’re not telling us,” Nezu said matter-of-factly, still staring at the blueprints for Midoriya’s voice changer.

 

     Midoriya cringed, curling into himself. “Please...” he whispered brokenly. “Don’t make me talk about it.”

 

       “From your past?” Yamada asked, remembering the way the boy had said a fire quirk had orphaned him.

 

     He nodded.

 

       “Well,” Hatsume said. “I should probably head home, my parents think Midori got sick and I was helping him back to health, but I said I would be back today.” She turned to the hero’s. “My parents never find  out.”

 

     They nodded. Hatsume hummed in approval, before saying goodbye to the boys, and making her way out.

 

     An awkward silence fell upon the group, Nezu oblivious to it all.

 

       “So, Akatani-kun, is that what you’re calling yourself?”

 

     Midoriya tensed, and Shinsou put his hand on the gun baby Hatsume had given him, he still hadn’t taken it off.

 

     Nezu stood up straight and turned towards the boys, his beady eyes scanning them for weaknesses. “I know that is not your name.”

 

     Midoriya took a step back, fear flooding his face, making him shake, and Shinsou pulled out the baby, keeping his finger on the trigger but aiming the barrel at the ground. The men tensed at the sight, but Nezu held a paw out.

 

       “I’m not going to make you tell us who you really are, because I do not think it is an issue. I will speak to you on the matter later, but for now, I think we’re more concerned about your living state. Where are your parents?”

 

       “They’re orphaned.” Aizawa spoke, staring at the two boys his boyfriend still wanted  to adopt... okay, maybe he did too... shut up.

 

     Nezu hummed, before turning to the two hero’s. “Well?”

 

     Yamada instantly brightened. He turned to the two wary boys with a bright grin. “We want to adopt you!”

 

     Both boys jolted, shock making their jaws drop and eyes blow wide. Tsukauchi mirrored their expression.

 

     Aizawa instantly whirled around to his boyfriend. “You can’t just drop the bomb like that! You have to ease into these things!”

 

       “I’m sorry,” Yamada said hotly. “We’ve been looking for them for how long?! You want me to be calm?!”

 

       “Yes! You can’t—“

 

       “Are you serious?”

 

     The couple turned to see Shinsou fighting back tears, Midoriya shaking with his head dropped beside him.

 

       “You really want to adopt us?” He whispered, his nose turning red with the effort of keeping his tears in.

 

       “Yes,” Aizawa said softly. “Hizashi has wanted to adopt you since we first met you guys at the store.”

 

     Shinsou’s tears spilled over his cheeks. “Even thought we’re illegal vigilantes?”

 

       “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re children without parents.”

 

     Shinsou sobbed, dropping the baby and pressing his hands against his mouth in effort to stifle them. Yamada smiled softly, and opened his arms, Shinsou’s eyes widening at the familiar, but not, gesture.

 

       “C’mon, bring it in.”

 

     In the next moment, Yamada was stumbling back with the force of Shinsou’s hug, the boy a blur as he crossed the room. He allowed himself to cry, not on his favorite hero, but on a man who wanted to be his father.

 

       “Akatani?” Aizawa said, the boy still shaking and doubled over, his hands covering his face.

 

     Midoriya felt guilty. He wanted parents, so, so bad, but he had one . He had a mother, who was sitting at home, unaware that her son was still alive. How could be betray her like that? How could he just abandon her, when she’s always been there for him—

 

     Fifty eight days. Fifty eight days . That’s how quickly she moved on. She had mourned him long enough to show that she cared, before she was moving on, and he was glad she was happy, but when he compared her recovery time to everyone else, hers was minuscule. She moved on from him like he was the pebble Bakugou said he was. Six years. That’s how long he hurt, every day, for six years.

 

     It was time for him to move on.

 

     He stood up, and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. There was a collective inhale from the hero’s, as if they just saw the wrappings around Midoriya, bruising peeking out from underneath. He looked up at the underground hero, and got a soft smile. Surprisingly, he held open his arms for his own hug.

 

     Midoriya’s eyes blew open, and he quickly found himself gently wrapped up in the arms, the feeling different from his mother’s hugs, better. He felt safe in the hero’s arms, like the man would protect him from everything, where in his mother’s, he had just felt comfort, as if she was always apologizing for his quirkless state.

 

     This hero held him like a precious gem, not easily breakable like porcelain, but something to be cherished.

 

     In that moment, he knew why Shinsou cried. He had never felt such a loving embrace from an adult.

 

    

Chapter Text

 

 

       “This is where you live?” Aizawa said, staring up at the normal, bleak apartment in front of them with disgust.

 

       “Yeah, pretty plain, right?” Midoriya said, running his fingers over the wraps on his chest.

 

       “I don’t know why I was expecting a penthouse.” Yamada said, following the boy as they made their way in.

 

     Shinsou scoffed. “Like we’d waste our money on that. Midori would get lost and die from starvation.”

 

     Midoriya whirled around, lightly shoving the taller boy with an offended gasp. “Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean you say it out loud!”

 

     Shinsou held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, his snickering ruining his image of innocence.

 

     Watching the two best friends bicker was nice for the two adults. It wasn’t an irritating bickering, like the one you had to get up and separate, because they were three seconds from tearing into each other, but more of a fond one, like they bickered just for the fun of it, no malice or heat behind it.

 

     Aizawa knew he and his boyfriend were quick to latch onto these boys. Their history was so much like their own, it was hard not to find common ground and understanding, where others would just offer pity and empty condolences. They wanted to take these orphaned boys, offer them a home and a loving family, show them how real parents are supposed to look.

 

     Shinsou’s parents were downright assholes. Yamada had put the name into the system on warning, alerting the family that they were walking a fine line for child abuse. They had been confused, because their daughter was the picture perfect of a spoiled brat, but Yamada had left them to figure it out themselves.

 

     For Akatani, even though he was orphaned, when he spoke about his parents it was with a level of pain and contempt, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to hate them, even if they were gone. He obviously knew his parents could’ve done better in raising him, or showing affection, but he didn’t know what the norm was for a loving family, so he couldn’t bring himself to hate them.

 

     Aizawa and Yamada had promised themselves that they would show these boys a loving family.

 

     They watched the boy’s snark each other fondly, as if they were already the parents to these two best friends.

 

    Tsukauchi and Nezu had left already, Nezu to put them into the system and warn the teachers about them, and Tsukauchi to get the adoption papers started on the two boys, and to update the Masked Trio folders.

 

       “Kayama is going to be so happy to finally have nephews.”

 

     Aizawa groaned.

 

     There was nothing wrong with Nemuri, but with the way she reacted to seeing Akatani in the mall, he was dreading how she would react when she found out that he was her nephew. She would probably suffocate the poor boy, before showering the two best friends with love and affection, something neither men were opposed too, but one could only take so much of Nemuri Kayama’s love.

 

       “When will we tell her and the gang?”

 

     Aizawa snorted. “They can find out later, so the boys have time to adjust.”

 

       “Who will find out later?” Akatani was walking backwards, smiling at the hero’s like he wasn’t worrying the three other males about smacking into a wall.

 

       “Our two best friends, you met them at the shop. They would be like your aunt and uncle.”

 

     Shinsou whirled around, a bright look on his face. “Really?!” He said excitedly, bouncing on the soles of his feel while also walking backwards.

 

     Yamada nodded slowly, like he didn’t understand why they would be so excited about that.

 

       “You better heed my warning,” Aizawa said. “They will suffocate you with their love, and probably spoil you to death.”

 

     The two boys laughed, spinning around with a beam that they hero’s could see, even from behind them.

 

     Yamada looked over to his boyfriend in confusion.

 

       They’ve never had a loving family before, he signed, and Yamada’s eyes blew wide in understanding.

 

     He looked softly at the best friends, and they arrived at their door in silence.

 

       “Christophe’s not awake?” Shinsou asked, whispering as he handed the key to Midoriya.

 

       “He’s sleeping by his door, probably wondering why we didn’t come home for the past few days.” He unlocked the door, and pushed it open silently, waving the hero’s in and peering at the door across from them.

 

       “Who’s Christophe?” Yamada asked, surveying the small apartment, immediately walking over to the few picture hanging on the wall.

 

       “A homophonic asshole who lives next door. Midori broke his wrist and shoulder when I first met him.”

 

     The couple stared at the small boy as he cried out, “Toshi! Don’t go exposing me like that!”

 

       “That’s, um, that’s assault.” Yamada said, shock coloring his tone.

 

     Midoriya crossed his arms over his chest, staring Yamada down despite the eight inch difference in height.

 

       “He called Toshi a worthless faggot who should kill himself.” Aizawa stilled. “So yes, I broke his wrist and shoulder. It’s not the first time I’ve done it, he has a healing quirk, so it’s not like it pains him.”

 

     Aizawa shook his head, and peered at one of the pictures with Dabi in it. “Who’s this?”

 

     It was silent, and he turned to look at the smaller boy as he shuffled guiltily. “That’s the boy who helped me find—“ he broke off, eyes widening.

 

       “He’s the one who helped me after I was orphaned.”

 

     Aizawa nodded slowly, filing away his slip up for later.

 

     Yamada suddenly threw his arms around the best friends, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

       “I only saw one bed in the room.”

 

     The boys flushed as Yamada laughed.

 

       “It’s not like that!” Shinsou cried, his voice higher than normal. “We’re completely platonic—“

 

       “I didn’t say you weren't platonic, I just said there was one bed in the room.” He raised an eyebrow as Shinsou slumped to the ground, groaning about hero’s out to get him.

 

       “It’s hard for either of us to sleep without the other,” Midoriya said slowly, minding his words so it didn’t come out wrong. “Toshi needs the body heat, and I need a pillow, so it works out.”

 

       “Makes sense,” Aizawa nodded, cutting off whatever his boyfriend was going to say. “We don’t need to buy an extra bed now, because you two can share.”

 

       “Shota! Two hormonal teenagers can’t share a bed—“

 

       “We shared a bed.”

 

     Yamada stopped his disapproval with a flushed face, as he turned around and muttered incoherent nothings under his breath.

 

     Aizawa turned to the two best friends, Shinsou’s face still not recovered from his flustered blushing from earlier.

 

       “We can help you guys pack, and you can move in tomorrow. The guest room is not quite a guest room yet, we still have to clean it up, so we’ll show up tomorrow and move everything over. Tsukauchi is pulling strings to have the adoption done tomorrow, so you’ll be our kids.”

 

     When the two boys beamed from happiness, the couple just had to smile back.

 

     After their apartment was packed up, Yamada magically making boxes appear every time they needed one, the hero’s said their goodbyes, and the two best friends were left laying on the bed, freshly showered and Midoriya’s bandages changed.

 

       “We’re actually being adopted.” Shinsou breathed. “By our favorite hero’s too.”

 

     Midoriya shifted on his pillow, is upper body elevated so he looked down a bit on Shinsou.

 

       “We’re going to have family, Toshi. We’ll be brothers.”

 

     Shinsou beamed, and Midoriya couldn’t help but grin back.

 

       “Wait,” Shinsou said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “What about your mother?”

 

     Midoriya was expecting this, and he had an answer.

 

       “She’ll always be my mother, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have parents. She gave up on me, granted she didn’t have any knowledge that I was alive, but Endeavor is known for leaving civilians behind.” His voice cracked. “If she really cared, she would have told him. She would have told the pro hero that her son was still in there, instead of latching onto the him and crying, sobbing about how scared she was, and how thankful she was to get out of there. I watched her walk away from  me, Toshi. I watched her abandon me , so I think it’s okay for me to move on, and have parents who will actually love me.”

 

     Shinsou reached over and gently wiped the tears from his face, and Midoriya promised himself, right then and there, that he would never cry for a woman who didn’t love him. He wouldn’t cry for anyone who didn’t care for him, he was done crying over lost causes. From now on, he would smile and laugh, with his best friend and soon to be parents, he would allow himself to be happy, because he deserved it.

 

       “I’m going to be happy, Toshi. I’m going to be so happy .” He whispered, and Shinsou grinned.

 

       “You be the happiest son Erasermic can have, and I’ll always be by your side.” Shinsou leaned over and pressed a kiss to Midoriya’s forehead. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

 

     Even with his injuries, the way his lungs burned and ribs ached, his shins throbbing and his head aching, he fell into the most fitful sleep he had ever had.

 

 

 

     When he woke up, it was to gentle knocking on the door.

 

     Well, with his earbuds out, it sounded like someone was pounding on his bedroom door, and for a second he thought it was Christophe.

 

     He rolled over and nudged Shinsou’s shoulder, shaking him as the boy opened his eyes with a yawn. 

 

       “I think Christophe’s at the door,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and glaring down at the bandages on his chest.

 

       “I’ll go scare him away,” Shinsou said blearily, before stumbling out of the bed, forgetting a shirt and making his way to the door in his pj shorts.

 

     Midoriya heard the door open, and then laughter. He shrieked at the loud noise and pressed his hands to his ears, suddenly much more awake than he was before. He leaned over and snatched his large headphones, sliding them into his ears and slipping into the peaceful silence.

 

     He slowly pushed himself from the bed, and made his way to the door, hearing people whispering as the front door shut.

 

     Oh. Whoops. He forgot Erasermic was going to show up.

 

       “It’s so early,” he whined, and the hero’s whirled around, cringing at the sight of his bandages and the bruising.

 

       “That’s what I said,” Aizawa muttered, glaring at the blonde man who was obviously a morning person.

 

     Said blonde man clapped his hands together excitedly, his hair slipping out of his bun. “Its only nine! Let’s get started! I’m so excited!” He looked at Midoriya with an apology on his face.

 

       “I forgot about your hearing, I’m sorry.” Midoriya waved him off, and all four males began grabbing the boxes and taking them to Erasermic’s car, which was conveniently made for five people, meaning the trunk was spacious.

 

      Well, Midoriya mostly carried the blankets, whining about how his muscles would waste away if he didn’t use them. He was ignored.

 

     Ten boxes, and a full trunk later, the boys  made their way to the lobby to turn in the key. They were not excited to see Christophe there, and Shinsou had half the mind to send Midoriya back out to the car, but one look at his face told him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

     They walked up the the receptionist, who looked dead on her feet, and handed in the key, along with that month’s rent. She nodded to them, and put the key away, thanking them for choosing to live with them.

 

     Before the boys could walk away, Midoriya’s arm was snatched and violently yanked, sending an arc of pain racing up his back, his ribs screaming in protest to the sudden movement. He gasped in pain, and felt the telltale sign of blood sliding up his throat.

 

       “Where the hell d’ya think yur’ goin’, fag? Wearin’ ladies shirts and paradin’ around with men, fuckin’ kill yur’ self, you waste of space!”

 

     He could barely register what Christophe was saying, and he felt Shinsou grab him, making to pull him away. In the next second, Shinsou was on the ground, clutching his face as blood ran from his broken nose.

 

     He forgot himself in that instant, as rage spilled his system. All he saw was a red tinge over his vision, and he was moving before he registered it. He was swinging his arms, feeling them collide with sickening crunches, and when his arms could no longer reach, it was his legs, breaking and bruising with each angry swing. He was hissing, the same sound he made at Shinsou’s orphanage, a perfect sound for intimidation.

 

     He felt arms gently pull him away, and he snarled at Christophe’s broken form, before the door flung open behind them, and Aizawa was by them, asking what was wrong.

 

     As soon as he caught sight of Midoriya’s angry panting and Shinsou’s broken nose, he linked it with the groaning man on the floor, and his eyes flared red, his hair lifting as his quirk activated.

 

     He gently ushered the boy’s to the car, and quickly explained the situation to his boyfriend, before calling Tsukauchi to place that man in prison, his paternal instincts making him want to go in there and beat the man himself, but knowing it wasn’t worth it.

 

       “Call Chiyo,” Yamada said, staring the car and pulling out of the driveway after making sure the boys had their seatbelts on.

 

      He felt anger rush through him when he saw Shinsou still clutching his nose, but was replaced by fondness at the boy gently rubbing Midoriya’s back as the smaller boy panted, clutching at his ribs and making a choking sound, like he was holding back his coughs.

 

     Aizawa was already dialing her number, and she answered with an, Aizawa? What happened now? —“

 

       “Chiyo,” he rushed. “I’m sorry to bother you but where are you right now?”

 

     She paused at the suddenness of the question. I’m at Yuuei, why? I swear, if this if for one of your injuries —“

 

       “It’s not for me, it’s for my children, please help them.”

 

     There was a long pause from her end, before a loud screech tore at his eardrums, and he yanked the phone away from his ears. It sounded like Nemuri was in the room.

 

       Children?! Children?! When the hell did this happen?! Why wasn’t I informed of this?! Shota, I will fucking murder you —“

 

     The phone was snatched out of the indignant woman’s hand, and Chiyo was speaking again.

 

       Bring them in, I am quite excited to meet my grandchildren.”  She hung up.

 

       “Grandchildren?”

 

     Aizawa looked into the rearview mirror, and met Shinsou’s eyes. He was still clutching his nose, and Aizawa was pained to see it was more to stop the blood than to stop the pain.

 

     He nodded. “Chiyo Shuzenji—“

 

       “Recovery Girl,” Midoriya gasped, before clasping his hand over his mouth, making more of the choking noises.

 

     Aizawa lurched forwards and grabbed one of the bags they kept store in the car for instances like this. It was more common than you think, when it comes to hero’s.

 

     He handed the bag to Midoriya. “Cough all of it up. We’ll have Chiyo heal you when you get there, but for now, get all of the blood out of your lungs.”

 

     Midoriya nodded, and the coughing made Yamada cringe in sympathy. It sounded like he was choking on a metal knife lodged in his throat.

 

     Yamada would never admit it, and Aizawa would never tell, but they broke so many traffic laws getting their children to Yuuei.

 

     Their children.

 

     That made Aizawa smile, and Yamada glanced at his boyfriend from the corner of his eyes.

 

       ‘Our children,’  he signed, and Yamada grinned. They had always wanted children, and considered adopting many times, they just couldn’t find a kid who wasn’t stuck up or hated everyone. When they met the two boys, they instantly liked them, and hope soared in their chests when they said they were orphaned.

 

     More than half a year later, they finally adopted them, but they couldn’t complain. They had been worried about not being able to raise a child due to their schedules, but knowing their two sons were vigilantes soothed them a bit, knowing they weren’t completely defenseless.

 

     It also helped that he had been seeing said vigilantes almost every night, and he held a grudging respect for them, which quickly turned into fatherly love when they were linked to the orphans.

 

       “What are you two smiling about?” Shinsou asked suspiciously, but not rudely.

 

     Aizawa grinned at him. “You’re our children.”

 

     Purple eyes blew wide open, and tears sprang into them. Midoriya sat up and grinned, the action not lost, even with the red staining his teeth.

 

       “Who’s who?”

 

     Aizawa cocked his head to the side in confusion.

 

       “Let’s not rush into names unless you’re comfortable with it.” Yamada said, but his eyes were alight with excitement.

 

       “Wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t okay,” Midoriya said, before clearing his throat, and nudging Shinsou in his unbroken ribs, the little shit. Shinsou nodded.

 

      “Oh.” Yamada said, before he was practically buzzing in his seat.

 

       “I’m Papa!” Yamada called cheerfully, and the two boys grinned happily. Aizawa stared at his boyfriend in shock, and got a cheeky smirk in return.

 

     That’s what he meant by names?!

 

       “Guess I’m Dad.” He said, turning to look out of the window into his flushed cheeks.

 

     Yamada laughed at him the entire way to Yuuei.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     The boys stared at the giant building in front of them, marveling at just how ginormous  it was.

 

       “Wow,” Midoriya whispered, before doubling over and choking on the knife again. Yamada winced, and parked the car.

 

       “Does it hurt bad?” He asked, gently guiding the boy out of the car, and handing him a new bag, as the old was was overfilling with his blood. He handed the filled bag to Aizawa, who glared at it in disdain.

 

       “A lot,” Midoriya whispered, smiling gratefully at Shinsou who rubbed his back. They began walking into the building, their car cleared by Nezu himself to get into the gates. “But I’m used to it, and it doesn’t make me want to die anymore, so don’t worry... papa.”

 

     Yamada’s worry melted away as a warm feeling filled his chest, a bright beam making it way into his face as he ruffled his son’s hair.

 

     Shinsou shook his head. “Disgusting,” he teased, and squawked when Midoriya tripped him.

 

     The boys marveled at the building when they were walking in, the hero’s having half a mind to give them a tour, before Midoriya began emptying his lungs, and Aizawa settled for snatching the boy up and dashing to Recovery Girl’s office. Shinsou ran behind with Yamada, because the man could not keep up with underground speed.

 

     Upon arriving at Chiyo’s office, he unceremoniously flung the door open, the women in there starting at the loud noise, and he apologized. He placed Midoriya on his feet, and the boy got out a, “Hello!”, before he began coughing, the horrible, horrible choking sound that made the two women in the room cringe.

 

     Chiyo immediately got up, and snatched the boy, pushing him over to a sink so he could empty his lungs and she could assess him.

 

       “Recovery Girl—“ coughing. “Thank you—“ more coughing. “For helping me and Toshi.”

 

     She shushed him, and hissed at the sight of the blood leaking through the bandages. She cut them off, and froze at what she saw underneath. She slowly turned towards Aizawa, a question on her lips.

 

       “You can’t tell anyone,” he pleaded. “We’ll tell the staff when we’re ready.”

 

       “Tell us what?” He winced when Nemuri came into his line of sight, her hands on her hips and a disapproving frown on her face. She was—thankfully— in civilian clothing, her signature glasses on her face and her hair pulled back into a pony tail.

 

       “That his son is a vigilante,” Chiyo tutted, before determining that she could use her quirk on Midoriya, to fix his bullet wounds, shins and lungs, but the bruising would have to stay. She didn’t want to risk it.

 

     Nemuri choked on her spit at that reveal, and Yamada walked into the room with Shinsou in that moment, paling when he noticed the R-Rated heroine.

 

       “Kayama!” He said, clasping his hands together nervously, eyes darting towards Shinsou. Chiyo had somehow made her way from Midoriya and over to Shinsou in record time, pressing a kiss to his star struck forehead and walking back to Midoriya as his nose set back into place.

 

     As soon as he was sure Shinsou’s nose had completely healed, he gently shoved the boy towards the woman, not at all above sacrificing his son. “Meet one of your nephews, Shinsou Hitoshi.”

 

     Shinsou shot him a betrayed look, and like a lioness to a gazelle, Nemuri snatched the boy up, not at all fazed that he was taller than her, and smushed him into her chest, twirling around and squealing like a little girl would to a doll.

 

     Midoriya began laughing, before Chiyo shushed him so she could work her magic. At his laughter, Nemuri zero’d onto him like a target locked missile, and he smiled at her. “Hi, Auntie.”

 

     She pressed her hand to her face, chest welling up with happiness as a wide grin made its way onto her face. The only thing stopping her from running over to the smaller boy was Recovery Girl’s glare, which could and would make even All Might sweat in fear.

 

       “Wait a minute,” Nemuri said, pulling Shinsou’s face from her chest, the boy’s face flushed the darkest red Yamada had ever seen it. “Oh! You boys are the ones from the store!” He nodded as well as he could with her hands smushing his cheeks together.

 

       “Oh! Oh! Call me Oneechan! Or Nemi-chan! Or—“

 

       “Just choose one,” Aizawa chuckled, and his best friend stuck her tongue out at him.

 

       “I’ll call you Oneechan.” Midoriya nodded in agreement, sagging against the counter as Recovery Girl’s quirk began healing his lungs, the bullet wounds healed over, but in danger of ripping open again. She prioritized his lungs over everything, he could live with not moving swiftly for a bit.

 

     Nemuri pouted. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

 

       “Okay,” Recovery Girl said, guiding Midoriya to a bed and gently laying him down. She wrapped his torso back up and explained that it was healed, it could just rip easily, as she focused on his lungs. She then grabbed some gummies and handed them to the tired boy. “Take a nap, please, replenish your strength so I can fix the cracked shins. Your lungs took much more than I thought.”

 

     Midoriya ate the gummies, before pausing, and scooting over on the bed, Shinsou sliding onto it without being prompted. As soon as his arms were wrapped around his best friend, the boy was out like a light, his snores filling the silent room.

 

     Shinsou looked up at the silent adults and flushed.

 

       “You two are absolutely adorable.” Recovery Girl said, smiling over at the boy. “You can call me Obasan, or whatever’s on the line.”

 

     Shinsou shifted, and Midoriya curled closer, Nemuri silently cooing at the sight. “Can... I call you baa-baa?”

 

     Chiyo beamed, the smile making her wrinkled face appear many years younger. “Of course, dear.”

 

     Tears welled up in Shinsou’s eyes, and he began crying softly into Midoriya’s hair. Nemuri stepped forwards, but Aizawa waved her off.

 

       “Do you want to take a nap?” He asked, and Shinsou nodded softly. Nemuri took the hint, and used her quirk on the boy’s, both of them falling into a deep sleep.

 

       “Why did he react like that?” Recovery Girl whispered, staring at her self-dubbed grandchildren.

 

     Aizawa sat down on the bed by his children,—god that felt amazing to say—Yamada doing the same, and he began to explain.

 

       “Hitoshi was put into an orphanage when his quirk manifested, because it was a freak mutation compared to his parents’. As far as I can tell, he can control people to do his bidding, something he used to become Puppeteer,” Nemuri opened her mouth, and he silenced her with a glare. “When we were looking for his orphanage, we found that every single one has had him, they just tossed him around because of his ‘villainous’ quirk, and every single one forced him to wear a muzzle. He has not experienced a loving family, since both his parents became abusing when he turned four, and that is much too young to remember anything.” He took a deep breath, and continued.

 

       “Midori was orphaned at the age of nine, we don’t know much except for the fact that a fire quirk orphaned him, and that’s why he fears fire. He has some sort of grudge against his parents, like they did something to him that made him angry, but it wasn’t enough for him to despise them. It’s not exactly hatred, but it’s not exactly love. He grew up on the streets, where a teenager named ‘Dabi’ took him in and taught him the ropes of the hard life. It was then that he became the vigilante Spider, now Machiavellian—“

 

       “Wait, wait a minute,” Nemuri cut him off, ignoring the deadly glare Aizawa shot her. “Both of your children are vigilantes that you’ve been complaining about for how long?”

 

       “Them being vigilantes doesn’t change the fact that they’re both hurting orphans who yearn for a family.” Yamada said softly, brushing the tears off of Shinsou’s face. “You should see the way they act, Kayama. They’re so touch and affection starved. No one should have to crave love that much, it should just be given.”

 

       “Poor dears,” Chiyo said, her mother instinct kicking in strong. “That won’t happen, the entire staff will love and cherish them, and if not, they can take their complaints to their new job.”

 

     Yamada chuckled wetly, “Thanks, Chiyo.”

 

       “It’s no problem,” she waved him off. “The small one, Midori, kept apologizing for being a burden as he coughed blood out of his lungs. He was so shocked when I said he had no reason to apologize, and I would treat him a million times over if it meant I got to see him smile.”

 

       “Yeah,” Aizawa said. “He hasn’t had a good relationship with any adults before, I just arrested a man who had been assaulting them for a while, and I’m making sure he’s staying in jail for a long time.”

 

     Nemuri’s jaw dropped. “Shota losing his cool?!”

 

     He directed his gaze towards her. “He’s the reason Midori was spitting up blood and Hitoshi had a broken nose. Hell if I’m going to let some asshole hurt my children without suffering.”

 

       “They’re already your children?”

 

     Yamada smiled softly. “They were our children as soon as they said they were orphaned.”

 

     It was silent except for the two brother’s snores, before Nemuri popped out a question that made the newly parents groan.

 

       “Do your parents know?”

 

       “Maybe I should call them,” Yamada mumbled, and Aizawa groaned, slumping down onto the bed and throwing a hand over his eyes like a damsel.

 

       “Go on without me,” He said dramatically, and Nemuri laughed at his suffering as Yamada yanked him up and dragged him outside, Aizawa praying to any deity who would hear him.

 

       “Where’sh ‘ad? ‘Nd papa?”

 

     The two women turned around at the sound of a sleepy voice, and saw Midori rubbing his eyes and blinking them, trying to gain his bearings.

 

       “Who?” Nemuri asked, her chest welling at what she was one hundred percent sure he had called her best friends.

 

     The boy blinked at her, his small nap still allowing red lines to show on his cheek where it was resting against his best friend’s arms. “Dad ‘nd Papa.”

 

     Nemuri squealed, pressing her hands to her cheeks and throwing herself at the smaller boy. He screamed and threw himself out of the bed, adjusting his headphones as he ran for his life, throwing the door open and ignoring Recovery Girl’s angry screeching.

 

     He ran through the halls at top speed, looking for his parents, before turning a corner and colliding with another person, the force of his sprinting sending the both of the tumbling backwards, Midoriya clenching his headphones to his ears like his life depended on it.

 

     When they had stilled, Midoriya pushed himself up and leaned over the other person—a boy, and groaned.

 

     Dual-colored eyes stared back into his.

 

       “This cannot become a habit.”

 

     Midoriya’s eyes blew open wide. He had a pleasing voice . It was soft and smooth, in the way someone who could sing was, like they were about to break out into melody.

 

       “I’m so sorry!” He said, hauling Todoroki back up with a fluid movement, accidentally adding too much strength and pulling the taller boy into him, knocking his headphones off.

 

     He shrieked, but couldn’t hear that much, and he was thankful that the building seemed to be pretty empty except for a man below them muttering about finding a ‘Shouto’.

 

     Shoot it’s Endeavor. Scram!

 

     He quietly kneeled, hissing when Todoroki moved to help him, and he froze at the sound, allowing Midoriya to slip the headphones on without any other pains.

 

     Todoroki opened his mouth to say something, but Midoriya shushed him, and began dragging him away from where he heard Endeavor walking.

 

       “Where are you taking me?”

 

     Midoriya looked back at him as they walked. “Do you want to go back to Endeavor? Because he was looking for you.”

 

     Todoroki instantly dug his heels into the ground, and Midoriya stopped walking, even though he could probably drag the boy wherever he wanted, kicking and screaming.

 

       “You’re taking me to Endeavor?”

 

       Don’t sound so betrayed, you’ll hurt yourself.

 

       “Of course not, pretty boy. That flaming shitbag is the other way— I mean... uh... sorry?”

 

     What was he saying sorry for? Calling Todoroki Shouto pretty boy, or calling his father a shitbag? Because he was sorry for neither.

 

     A small smile turned up the boy’s lips.

 

       OH MY GOD HELP THAT IS SO UGH AKSLDJ—

 

       “I apologize,” he said, and Midoriya would do anything to keep him talking. “I should probably head back, but I didn’t see you at the test, so why are you here?”

 

       “Oh! Well, you see, I got—“ shot and was bleeding out on your table . “Uhh...” he trailed off and the boy raised an eyebrow.

 

       “You got?” He prompted, but Midoriya shifted his weight and bit his lip.

 

       “I should thank you,” he blurted out, like the blab mouth he was goddamnit Midoriya keep your mouth shut

 

       “Thank me?” Todoroki sounded confused.

 

      Of course he was confused, you weren’t bleeding out on his table, Machiavellian was.

 

       “You... and your brother.”

 

     Realization dawned in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut, like he wanted to hear Midoriya say it.

 

       “For not calling the cops on m-Machiavellian when she was bleeding out.”

 

     Todoroki nodded slowly. “She seemed really out of it.”

 

     Midoriya huffed a breath that held no amusement. “The bullets were lined with a lethal poison, so yeah.”

 

     The boy sucked in a shocked breath, his eyes wide in fear. “She’s okay, right?”

 

       “Oh! Yeah, yeah, she’s doing fine! We brought her here for her punctured lung—“

 

       “She had a punctured lung?!”

 

     Midoriya huffed an irritated breath. “Yes, and she drowned in her own blood before we were able to bring her to Recovery Girl. Anything else you want to cut me off with?”

 

     Todoroki was staring at him with wide eyes, before an emotion he couldn’t place took over his features.

 

       “You’re Puppeteer, right? You’re much smaller than I remember.”

 

      “What?!” Midoriya coughed, inhaling his spit by accident. “No! I’m not Puppeteer, I’m—“

 

     He cut himself off. He could not finish  that sentence.

 

       “You’re?” Todoroki asked, his interest piqued.

 

     Midoriya stuttered, trying to find a way to climb out of the hole he dug himself. When the taller boy took a step forwards, he scrambled back, trying to put distance between himself and the cute boy.

 

      “Who. Are. You?” He repeated, his voice laced with irritation, and Midoriya knew it was more from not knowing than at him.

 

       “Shouto. There you are.”

 

     They both tensed at Endeavor’s booming voice, and Todoroki slowly turned around to face his father.

 

     The man looked over to Midoriya, but fear was creeping up his throat, closing it and limiting how much oxygen got into his lungs.

 

       “You didn’t take the recommendation exam.”

 

     He didn’t even register what Endeavor said for a good few seconds, pushing down the trauma that was creeping up his spine. He clenched his hands to hide the shaking, but it did nothing to his voice, which was unstable as he averted his eyes to somewhere above Endeavor’s Hellflame.

 

       “I-I’m not here on recommendation, I-I’m a hero’s child... a-and I have a meeting with Nezu.” Not exactly a lie, Nezu did want to speak with him about his past, he had just wanted to push it as far away as he could.

 

     He was hoping the man would take his stutter as a sign of weakness and leave in disgust, because Midoriya was three seconds away from screaming and running.

 

     The man’s flaming eyebrow raised, and Midoriya cringed. “Meeting with Nezu? Whatever for?”

 

     Midoriya cursed himself, pushing down the tears that were threatening to fall. His legs were glued into place.

 

     It’s okay, he said to himself. As long as he doesn’t come towards me and burn me— the burningburning feeling of flames—

 

     He shook his head and cleared his throat, subtly taking a step back, his shaking making it’s way to his shoulders. “That’s c-confidential, forgive me, Endeavor-san.”

 

     The man’s eyes gleamed with greedy intent, before dropping down at his second step back. His lip curled in disgust.

 

         “You need to change your bandages, you’re bleeding.”

 

     He instantly whipped around, grateful to look away from the flames, and groaned. Sure enough, blood was staining his bandages red. Recovery Girl was actually going  to kill him.

 

       “Akatani?”

 

     Oh, bless Nezu and his obsession with tea. He turned around, forcing the led out of his legs to see the small principal standing behind them, and he waved at the group.

 

     Midoriya missed the way the younger Todoroki’s eyes zero’d in on the way the blood was coming from his back, the exact place he had pressed his hands to stop Machiavellian’s bleeding. His eyes narrowed, before blowing wide.

 

     But Midoriya didn’t see it.

 

       “Oh! Todoroki! Do forgive me, but I need to take Akatani-san away from you, he has information that Yuuei needs.”

 

      “Oh?” Endeavor’s eyes got that greedy gleam again. “What kind of information?”

 

       “Oh, nothing serious, he just knows the secret to All Might’s end, so we need to take precautions.”

 

     That dirty bastard. Screw him and his tea obsession.

 

       “The secret to All Might’s end?” Both Todoroki’s breathed, and Nezu nodded.

 

       “Yes, so please allow me to steal him from you.”

 

     He didn’t let either answer, before waving Midoriya to follow him and walking away, back to where Midoriya hoped his parents were.

 

     He forced his legs to move, looking very robotic at first, but the further and further he got from Endeavor was quelling his fight or flight instinct, until he was relaxed walking beside Nezu.

 

     He slid his headphone off on one ear, so he could hear what the father and son were saying.

 

       That right there, Shouto, is someone you need to look out for. He had a look in his eyes, the same one I’ve seen in many villains.”

 

     He heard Todoroki make a questioning noise.

 

       The cold determination to get exactly what he wants, no matter the costs. That right there, is someone you want to take down early, so that they don’t stab you in the back when you look away.

 

     He heard Endeavor turn and walk away, so he slipped his headphones back on.

 

       “You are most lucky,” Nezu said. “If I did not happen to see you and the pretty boy on  the cameras, I would not have known to come and help you.”

 

     Midoriya groaned loudly, dropping his face into his hands.

     

       “That is besides the point. I see you ruined your back again, and Shuzenji is not going to pleased. I do not think she will kill you, though.”

 

       “This is the end for me,” He groaned.

 

     Shuzenji is not going to be pleased , Nezu said, I do not think she will kill you’ Nezu said.

 

     Standing in front of the shaking old lady wielding her cane, he couldn’t help but feel as if Nezu was a dirty liar.

 

       “Why did you run?” She asked, her voice calm, not betraying the rage he knew she was feeling.

 

       “Umm, when my headphones are taken off, I can hear everything at a much louder level, and when people jump at me, I can’t help but worry they’re going to take them off.” He shifted his weight uneasily. “I’m sorry.”

 

       “Is it your quirk?” He curled into himself, and wished for Shinsou.

 

       “No... I’m... quirkless.”

 

       “My dear boy,” Midoriya looked at the old lady. “That doesn’t make you less of a human.”

 

     Sometimes, Midoriya scares himself on how much he can cry.

 

       Recovery Girl kissed him again, but this time, he tapped into his vigilante energy, and was awake like nothing had happened. He ignored the shocked look from Recovery Girl.

 

       “Where’s Toshi?”

 

       “Toshi? Oh! He went looking for... you...” Nemuri seemed to sag over, and Nezu chuckled.

 

       “I’ll look for him on the cameras, and I’ll guide you to him.” She nodded reluctantly, but at that moment, the door slid open and Shinsou walked in.

 

       “I just did something I don’t regret but I probably should.”

 

     Dread crept up Midoriya’s stomach and Nezu’s face. “What did you do?”

 

     Shinsou collapsed onto the bed they had napped on earlier, and said, “I, uh, may have made Endeavor believe his name is Chicken Nugget?” 

 

     Both heroines stared at the boy in horror, but Midoriya doubled over, laughing his ass off at the thought of the Number 2 hero screaming that his name was Chicken Nugget, not Endeavor. Nezu just looked at the boy like he had never seen him before.

 

       “He’s— actually— going—to—kill you,” he wheezed, laughing harder at the thought of when the media catches up with it, until he’s rolling on the floor, clutching the ground like it was his only lifeline.

 

     He didn’t hear the door open, but he did hear Aizawa say, “I was gone for ten minutes?”

 

       “Your son made Endeavor believe his name was Chicken Nugget.” Nezu said calmly.

 

     Instantly, Aizawa whipped around to stare at his not-so-guilty son. “Hitoshi! You can’t do that!... Unless it’s on video.”

 

     Chiyo, who had been nodding along with what Aizawa was saying, did a double take. “Wait, what?”

 

     Shinsou sat up with a mischievous grin. “You want the video?”

 

       “Send it to me, and I’ll convince Hizashi to make it a family heirloom.”

 

       “Shota!” Nemuri cried, and Yamada walked in.

 

     He looked at Midoriya laying on the ground, Nemuri and Chiyo glaring at Aizawa, who was leaned over Shinsou’s phone, and finally over at Nezu, who had the most done face he could make.

 

       “Umm, what did I miss?”

 

     After recounting the entire story, including Midoriya’s talk with Endeavor, the entire room was caught up and Midoriya’s lungs, shins, and cracked ribs were healed, but for some reason, her quirk wouldn’t work on the bullet wounds, so she still recommended minimal movement and wrappings. She also refused to heal the rib bruising, saying it was what he got for being such a reckless boy.

 

       “Now, I need to discuss something with Akatani, so I need to borrow him.”

 

     Midoriya stood up, ready to leave, but Shinsou caught his arm.

 

       “Sweetheart, I think you should bring everyone.”

 

     Midoriya whipped around with fear-filled eyes. Shinsou raised a hand.

 

       “They trust us, it’s our turn to show trust. And in the end, if it doesn’t work out, we can always run.” Midoriya nodded, ignoring all the adult’s slight fear and confusion.

 

     He turned to Nezu. “Can I... actually bring everyone?”

 

     Nezu’s eyes glinted. “Do you want them to know who you are? There is a possibility they will send you back.”

 

     Midoriya took a sharp breath, taking a step back, and began shaking his head, ready to say never mind, before Aizawa placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

     He slowly looked into the hero’s eyes, searching for any trace of lies or deception. He only saw fatherly love and determination.

 

       “We won’t send you back, wherever it is that you don’t want to go.”

 

     Midoriya’s breath hitched, and he lurched forwards, clutching at the man’s dark shirt.

 

       “Promise me,” He whispered, shaking the hero slightly. “ Promise me you won’t send me back.”

 

     The man seemed stunned, but he nodded, “I promise.”

 

     Midoriya let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, and turned, nodding to Nezu. “Everyone’s going.”

 

       “Splendid. Let’s take this to my office.”

 

     The walk to Nezu’s office was in tense silence, Shinsou having a gentle hand on his lower back, and Nemuri walking with Chiyo, just as confused as the new parents.

 

      Once the seating was arranged, with Midoriya and Shinsou sitting right in front of Nezu’s desk, and the two woman sitting behind but to the right of them, the men to the left, the tea was passed out. The arrangement was so Midoriya wouldn’t have to see their faces when they realized he still had family out there.

 

       “Will you stop me, if I run?” He asked, completely serious, and ignored Yamada’s sharp intake.

 

     Nezu clasped his hands together in front of him, right behind his tea cup. “I will not stop you if you run.”

 

     Midoriya took a deep breath, and nodded.

 

         “Now, Midoriya Izuku, lets get this started, shall we?”

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     After Midoriya’s explanation, Nezu refilled his tea cup and took a sip from it, his mind running a mile a minute to digest what he just learned. Midoriya had emphasized that Midoriya Inko had cared for him, but had border lined a helicopter parent. How she never let him do anything for himself, and living with Dabi was a harsh slap to the face from reality.

 

       “...you have a mother...”

 

     Instantly, Midoriya was out of his seat, his chest constricting with fear as he whirled around to stare at Aizawa in shock.

 

       “You promise me,” he cried. “ You promised me! ” His eyes were wide as his breathing started picking up. He couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t go back.

 

     Now that his eyes were clear, no longer shadowed by the pain of missing her, he could see that how she was raising him would’ve stripped him of his confidence, of his very own independence. He would’ve depended on her more than on himself, because that was how he was raised, he wouldn’t have known any different.

 

       “I didn’t say we were giving you back!” The man said, eyes wide when he realized why Midoriya was afraid. “I just think we should tell her—“

 

       “Not you too!” He cried, burying his hands into his hair, curling into himself as his ribs groaned in protest to his harsh breathing. The cracks may be gone, but the bruising sure wasn’t.

 

       “No, no, you don’t understand. If you tell her I’m alive, she’ll want me back, not because I’m her son, but because it’ll be her charity case. I don’t want to be treated like glass when I’ve fought super villains. I’ve fought the mafia, villains, criminals, I can handle myself. She won’t let me do anything. ANYTHING. YOU’RE NOT SENDING ME BACK !

 

     Shinsou’s arms were suddenly around him, and he was sobbing, clutching at his best friend, a silent plea to never leave him.

 

       “Midoriya—“

 

       “No!” He screamed. “Don’t call me that! I’m my own person! Don’t tie me to her! I want to be my... own... person...” he whispered, before slumping over, Shinsou’s arms holding his weight as Nemuri’s quirk wafted through the air. The only reason Shinsou didn’t go under was because he was holding his breath.

 

         “That could’ve gone much better,” Nezu mused, his teacup making a clinking sound as he set it back down.

 

     Yamada stood up, and took a step towards the two boys, but Shinsou snarled at him. He couldn’t quite get the same high-pitched inhuman sound that Midoriya could, but it was still dangerous, still elicited fear, the sound of a cornered animal.

 

       “We’re not going to hurt him,” he whispered, taking another step forwards, pausing when Shinsou sunk low to the ground, hunched protectively over his best friend.

 

       “You already did,” he growled. “When you promised him a home and took it away.”

 

       “We’re not sending him back. I just think it would be wise for her to know her son if alive.” Aizawa spoke, moving to stand by his boyfriend.

 

       “Why do you think that?” Shinsou cried, his voice cracking.

 

       “It’s her right as his—“ Nemuri froze, eyes going blank as her body went slack.

 

       “Kayama?—“ Yamada started, before Aizawa whirled around to stare at Shinsou, not quite a glare, yet not quite lacking heat.

 

       “Stop it, right now.” He said, his tone hard. “You need to calm down.”

 

     Shinsou’s head was bowed, his hair shadowing his face. “It’s funny, that you adults think I won’t do everything in my power to keep him safe,” he paused, and the hero’s could hear the guilt creeping up on his voice. “Even if it means I have to turn you on each other, one by one.”

 

     Nemuri moved then, she shouldered her way in front of the couple, and pushed them away, the same blank look in her eyes. When they moved to go around her, she held her hands out, her quirk swirling around her fingers in warning. Only once the hero’s were out of range, unable to move due to Nemuri’s quirk, did Shinsou stand.

 

     Tears were streaming down his face, a look of pain twisted onto his features, but he made his way to the door, and as promised, Nezu wasn’t making any move to stop him.

 

       “Young man, why do you run?”

 

     Shinsou paused, and turned his face towards Recovery Girl, who was standing by Nezu’s desk.

 

       “Izuku is all I have left,” he choked out, more tears leaking from his eyes. “And you want to take him from me?”

 

       “No one is threatening to take him away.” Yamada spoke, and Shinsou felt guiltier when he also took control of him. Just as Yamada’s eyes went blank, his body slack, did Aizawa’s eyes turn red and his hair raise, and Shinsou cried out when he felt his connection violently sever.

 

     His legs gave beneath him and he collapsed, panting heavily and pressing his head against Midoriya’s chest to quell the migrane pounding against his skull. Controlling two people was nothing, he could control up to twenty-nine, but controlling people without speaking his commands puts a major strain on his brain. Even if it didn’t seem like it, he made Nemuri do a lot.

 

       “Oh my god Shota, what did you do?!” Was the last thing he heard before the migrane violently stabbed his brain, and his vision turned black.

 

    

       When he opened his eyes, he was in the infirmary.

 

     He shifted onto his side, wary of the injured boy pressed to his side, and surveyed the room. It was empty, but there was a slip of paper sitting by the edge of the bed.

 

     He shifted to look at Midoriya, and saw him peacefully sleeping, no trace of the fear or distress that was on his face earlier.

 

     As gently as he could, he slipped between the boy’s arms, sliding his body down the bed like a water slide, before grabbing the folded piece of paper. It had their names on it.

 

     He glanced at the still sleeping Midoriya, and crossed his legs underneath him, unfolding the paper to meet neat but hurried handwriting.

 

      Boys,

 

    If you’re reading this, it’s because we had to go to the conference room to watch the recommendation students, to choose the ones who would be entered. One, we sincerely apologize for not being there when you wake, but I promise you we will be back. Two, I am so sorry you felt as if you needed to brainwash us to stay safe, Hitoshi. It was never our intention to scare you guys, and even if we still think Midoriya Inko should be told, we will not tell her until you two are ready. Do not think, for one second, that either of you our leaving us, we’ve already signed the adoption papers, so you’re stuck with us now. ‘Zashi is cackling like a villain in the background, but we’ll discuss the last name business when we get back. Please do not panic, or run, because honestly, Chiyo is scary. We will see you both when we’re done.

 

      Your Parents

 

 

     Shinsou closed his eyes, letting a few tears slip loose. They still wanted him. Even after he brainwashed Yamada and Nemuri, they still wanted him.

 

     He felt the hope in his chest blossom into joy, because now he was certain. He was certain that this family would love and cherish him, even with what everyone would call a villainous quirk. He chuckled, his joy eating his tears away as he began laughing, relief spilling into his being and finally allowing him to relax, because it was okay. He was safe here.

 

       “Toshi?”

 

     He looked over into bright green eyes, and smiled. He waved the mini letter in front of Midoriya’s face, his eyes darting across it in vain to try and read it.

 

       “It’s okay, Izuku,” he whispered. “They’re not giving us up.”

 

     Midoriya’s eyes went wide, and he snatched the letter to read it himself, as if he couldn’t believe someone would still want him after his outburst. His eyes became more and more misty the closer he got to finishing it, the happiness wafting off of him in waves.

 

     He huffed a relieved breath, before wrapping his arms around his best friend, his brother , reveling in the newfound family they both had, before Shinsou’s phone rang, ultimately ruining the moment.

 

     He hissed in annoyance, before reaching over into the nightstand, and plucking his phone out from underneath Midoriya’s, something the smaller boy does as a habit.

 

     He brought it to his ear. “Hello?”

 

       HITO-CHAN YOU BETTER PUT ME ON SPEAKER, ‘CUZ I KNOW ZU-CHAN’S THERE WITH YOU!”

 

     He cringed away from her loud shouting, but put the phone on speaker, ignoring Midoriya’s pleading eyes.

 

       “Hey, Mei-chan,” he said meekly. “How was your day?”

 

       How was my day? HOW WAS MY DAY?! I WAKE UP, HAVE A NORMAL MORNING, BEFORE SEEING THE BOTH OF YOUR PHONE’S AT YUUEI. WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?! IZUKU WASN’T ANSWERING HIS PHONE, AND THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME IVE TRIED CALLING YOU—“

 

       “Meimei,” Shinsou said, cutting of her rant. Even if she sounded mad, he could hear the underlying tone of relief, as if she expected them to be on their way to execution. “We just... fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

 

       You guys always answer your phone, even if you’re in the middle of taking a nap.”

 

     Shinsou chuckled nervously. “This was a quirk induced nap.”

 

       ...Midnight?”

 

       “In her defense!” Midoriya cried, not wanted Hatsume to get a biased opinion on the matter. “We both panicked and went ballistic, so... yeah.”

 

       Why did you panic?”

 

     Oh god, please stop speaking in monotone, you’re scary.

 

       “Well,” Shinsou said, rubbing the back of his neck and sucking air through this teeth. “They want to tell Midoriya Inko that Zuzu’s ali—“

 

       AFTER YOU TRUSTED THEM WITH THAT INFORMATION?!”  There was a loud bang from her side, not the sound of something exploding, but the sound of something very heavy smashing against metal. I’m going to murder them—

 

       “It’s okay, Mei-chan,” Midoriya said. “It was a giant misunderstanding, and... they want to adopt us.”

 

     Hatsume’s angry muttering ceased. What?”

 

       “Aizawa and Yamada. They adopted us. We have parents, Mei-chan.”

 

       Are you sure they—“

 

       “They’re saying this even after I brainwashed Yamada and Nemuri. They still want us.” Shinsou put all of his emotions into those two sentences. He wanted to make sure Hatsume knew they were in good hands.

 

       Wow.... I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU TWO!! OH MY GOD!!! I want to meet your parents, I have to approve of them. Have to make sure they’re right to raise my baby brothers—“

 

     Both boys cried out indignantly, but she ignored them, cooing about parents like they were babies.

 

     Midoriya thumped back onto the mattress with a grumble, crossing his arms and rolling onto his side as Hatsume spoke about when he was but a young babe, fresh into the life of a vigilante and already drinking alcohol—

 

       “That was one time!” Midoriya screeched, launching himself at Shinsou’s phone, pushing the both of them off the bed with a war cry.

 

     Shinsou shrieked when his bare back touched the cold floor, the blankets tangled around his legs to slow his decent. He was unable to move, because Midoriya was laying on his chest, holding the phone over Shinsou’s head, his back bent in a perfect ‘c’ as he scorpion’d off the bed.

 

       “That was because your dad put sake in the cup that I usually use when I go over! HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WASN’T WATER?!” He was yelling, before the door was opened, and they both looked up unison.

 

       “What are you two doing?” Chiyo asked, amusement coloring her tone.

 

       “Baa-baa!” Shinsou cried, wiggling from underneath Midoriya. “The floor is cold!! Get this gremlin off me!”

 

       “Gremlin?! Gremlin?! Midoriya jerked up and snatched a pillow from the bed, before smashing it into Shinsou’s stomach like it was a gravity hammer, a war cry spilling from his lips as Chiyo laughed.

 

     Chiyo leaned down and picked up the phone, the girl on the other line apologizing, saying she had to leave, but she would meet her soon. Chiyo set the phone down, and sat at her desk, watching her self-appointed grandchildren.

 

     Midoriya had jumped onto the other bed, snatching up the other pillows and making a quick mini fort as Shinsou recovered from the pillow attack.

 

     As soon as he had recovered, he was running towards the smaller boy, a pillow raised over his head and another pressed to his chest. He launched one at the smaller boy, who had to slip off the bed to escape, and was getting ready to throw the other, but Midoriya sprang up from behind the bed, snatching the blanket and tossing it over Shinsou’s head, before jumping on him and clinging like a monkey.

 

       “Gettim’ off! Gettim’ off!” Shinsou screeched, stumbling to the side from the weight of his friend, before falling onto the bed with a screech.

 

       “Aaah!” Midoriya shrieked, shoving at the blanketed boy as he rolled onto the smaller boy, pinning his legs into place.

 

       “What are you two doing?”

 

     Chiyo turned to look at Aizawa standing in the door way, and she smiled. “Boys being boys.”

 

       “Help me!” Midoriya shrieked playfully. “I’m gonna suffocate!”

 

       “Oh? What’s in it for me?” Aizawa said, surprising Chiyo as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, a small smile on his face.

 

       “I’ll be your best friend!”

 

     Aizawa chuckled, and shook his head. He looked over at Chiyo, and raised an eyebrow at her expression.

 

     It had been a long time since she had seen Aizawa Shota this relaxed. When she usually saw him, it was right after his classes, and that was when he was most exhausted. The most rested she’d ever seen him was when he started dating Yamada, or when he expelled his entire class, leaving him with nothing to do but sleep.

 

       “My children!” A voice shrieked.

 

     They both turned in time to see Yamada run into the room, throwing himself onto the bed beside Shinsou and Midoriya, the boys laughing when he smushed them both into a hug, whining about how tired he was.

 

        “So, who’s getting in?” Midoriya asked, wiggling under Shinsou’s weight, who had given up ever escaping the sheet and was laying against Yamada like a dead fish.

 

       “Probably Endeavor’s son and a girl who can create anything.”

 

     Midoriya sat up quick, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Anything? Inorganic or organic matter? Created from what, her energy levels, lipids, or can she make anything with everything around her? Is it limited to what materials she uses, or can she change the chemical compound to create a new—“

 

       “Zuzu, air is vital to human survival.” The sheet ghost Shinsou spoke, and Midoriya sucked in a large breath at the reminder.

 

       “Is this normal, little listener?” Shinsou nodded, shifting his weight to explain more, but Midoriya cut him off.

 

       “My legs!” He shrieked. “They’re going numb!”

 

       “Alright you too,” Aizawa chuckled fondly, nodding towards the door. “We need to get home.”

 

       “Toshi,” Midoriya whined. “You’re going to have to carry me.”

 

     Sheet Shinsou slid to the floor, and began wiggling away like a worm, screeching as if a giant bird was chasing him with a machete. “Freedom!”

 

       “Never!” Midoriya cried, jumping onto Shinsou’s back as the boy vainly tried to escape, and Chiyo felt her heart swell with love.

 

     Aizawa walked further into the room and snatched Midoriya up, the boy kicking his legs and squirming, before letting out a triumph cry when he fell towards the floor, only to whine when Aizawa just carried him to the door hanging upside down. He reached up to his headphones and tightened the strap, so he could drag his hands against the ground like a petulant child.

 

         “Mind his injuries!” Recovery Girl called as Aizawa walked out of the room, and Midoriya snickered.

 

       “Bye Baa-baa!” He called, and heard Yamada and Shinsou get up, Shinsou complaining about Midoriya making half of the mess as he put all of the pillows and blankets back on the bed.

 

     He realized Aizawa hadn’t stopped walking, and he was still hanging like a fowl on sale.

 

       “Daaaaaaaad,” he whined, feeling the man stumble a bit at the name. “Don’t you dare drop  me. You’ll ruin my pretty face, and then you won’t have grandchildren.”

 

       “Better not get any grandchildren until you’re thirty.” The man grumbled, tossing Midoriya up to adjust his grip, ignoring the boy’s screech.

 

       “Neither of us will be giving either of you grandchildren early, don’t worry. Although, I think Zuzu’s got his eyes on a son-in-law for you two.”

 

     Midoriya squirmed in Aizawa’s grip, and saw Shinsou and Yamada walking beside them, both with shit-eating-grins.

 

       “Oh? Son in law?”

 

       “Yep!” Shinsou chirped, sending Midoriya an evil grin. “The Todoroki boy, remember him? Every time Zuzu has his dramatic fall, he always conveniently lands on top of him, and they have a lovely heart-to-heart chat.”

 

     Yamada made an ‘oooh’ sound, and they all teased the flustered boy as they made their way to their car.

 

       “Oh yeah!” Midoriya cried as Aizawa set him down by the car. “Toshi’s already told a boy to—“

 

     Shinsou jumped on him, pressing his hands over his mouth and hissing threats under his breath as the couple shook their heads and got into the car.

 

     The car ride was spent in comfortable silence, before Yamada asked the question that ruined them all.

 

       “What should we eat?”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     Midoriya was hiding in the vents, his small body barely having enough room to turn over in the narrow space, but that was besides the point.

 

     It was the day of the entrance exams, and he had ducked into said vents to escape Nemuri’s ‘inescapable’ grasp, totally not ditching Shinsou to fend for himself. No, not at all, shush.

 

     Anwyays, Lightning boy was here, along with big elbows and pinky. He had jumped into the vents right as Iida Tensei’s younger brother began calling him out for dress code or something, and he hoped that no one had seen his face.

 

       “—aminari, there are a million other boys out there—“

 

     Midoriya snickered.

 

     From the sound of it, Lightning boy’s name was Kaminari, and he hadn’t gotten over the way, ‘ that sexy guy from the store ’ had ordered him fuck him. Large elbows was Sero, and he was absolutely done with Kaminari’s whining over a guy they’ll never see again.

 

     It was extremely amusing to listen to.

 

     He began sliding through the vent, towards the opening in the wall that he would attract a TON of attention getting out of, but he couldn’t hear Ingenium’s little brother, so hopefully he was in the clear.

 

     As soon as he was behind the vent, he realized that it was actually really close to the ground, beside chairs where Kaminari and Sero were sitting. Huh, no wonder he could hear footsteps so well.

 

   He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began unscrewing the screws, grabbing the vent and putting it on the floor to the side so he wouldn’t step on it. Hatsume said you could never go wrong with a screw driver.

 

     He heard Kaminari stop talking, so he assumed the boy was confused as to why the vent was on the floor instead of screwed on.

 

   He put his hands on the opening and pulled himself out, having to twist upside down in order to properly get his shoulders out, but the rest was a smooth transition. He wondered if he would be able to do that in uniform, because that would be a ride.

 

   Midoriya sat up once he was completely out of the vent and blew his fringe out of his face, before placing the vent back into place. He wasn’t going to screw it in yet, it could be a good escape route.

 

     Standing up, he brushed all of the imaginary and literal dust off of his black crop top and basketball jeans, seeing an incredulous blonde haired boy. He shot finger guns at the blue-eyed boy, and turned around, locking eyes with Kaminari.

 

     He narrowed his eyes, like he was thinking, before darting up to them when they blinked, suppressing a giggle when they both flinched.

 

      “Oh!” He said, allowing his eyes to shine with excitement. “I know you! You’re the boy my brother told to fuck him! How are you doing?”

 

     The boy spluttered, staring at Midoriya with wide eyes, his brain probably not computing after seeing the boy crawl out of the vents in Yuuei.

 

       “Brother?” Midoriya  turned to look at Sero, and nodded slowly, like he was confused, before widening his eyes.

 

      “Oh! Yeah, we don’t look alike, huh? We’re both adopted, so we get that a lot, don’t worry!” He beamed, before plopping down in front of them criss cross. “You guys are aiming for heroics, right?”

 

      “He was your brother?” Kaminari whispered, and Midoriya inwardly snickered.

 

     Outwardly, he cocked his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Yeah, Toshi’s my brother. I thought I said that?”

 

       “Oh! Yeah you did, don’t worry,” Sero waved his hands, trying to save Kaminari’s pride. “He’s just a little shocked from... using his quirk.”

 

     Midoriya decided he was going to mess with them a little more. He blinked innocently, before scrunching his features in a way Shinsou always said was adorable.

 

       “I thought electricity users couldn’t get shocked? Is your skin not resistant to the electricity you generate? Do you use an outside electricity, and therefore your body is not used to the way it runs through your veins? Or do you generate your own electricity? If it was your own electricity, why are you being shocked by it?—“

 

      “I was kidding!” Sero cried, probably eager to stop Midoriya on his rant, because a normal person would’ve passed out from lack of air. “He thought the two of you were dating.”

 

    Midoriya paused, mentally adding another tally, before blinking rapidly, making a low humming in his throat.

 

       “Oh.” He said, before turning to the two. “You should probably eat, you have thirty minutes before you are to be taken to a locker room to change, and given your ground to test on.”

 

       “You’re not taking the test?” Sero asked, and Midoriya shook his head.

 

       “Then why are you here?” Kaminari asked, confused.

 

     Midoriya bared his teeth, and the boys flinched. “My spot was guaranteed a while ago.”

 

     He stood up and adjusted his headphones, shifting to make sure they could see the bandages around his torso.

 

    He decided he was going to mess with everyone out of suit, see who was smart enough to piece it together, and if they tried to tell anyone, he’d just have Shinsou erase their memory and he’d start over again.

 

     ... holy crap he needs new hobbies.    

 

       “Well,” He said, kneeling down beside the air vent. “Good luck on your test, and remember, this is a hero school. Do what you think is right.”

 

     He slid into the vent, not even bothering to close it behind him, and crawled away, the path he memorized to get back into the control room.

     

     Aizawa wasn’t lying when he said the staff wasn’t going to let them breathe, and he had jumped onto the air vent in the wall when Nemuri had ran his way. His weight had pulled the cover off, and he yanked his way in, ditching Shinsou to fend for himself.

 

     As he was crawling away, he barely lifted his headphone off his ear, and the muted sound of talking had brushed against his ears. He then heard Kaminari and Sero talking, and decided he wanted them in the hero class, and that’s why he said, This is a hero school. Do what you think is right’ . Hopefully, one of them would get the hint and they’d help someone.

 

     As soon as he dropped down to the floor, he was wrapped up in a capture weapon.

 

       “Where did you go?” Aizawa asked, his hair floating as his eyes shone red in his irritation.

 

     Midoriya wiggled in the weapon, before stilling with a grin. “I was talking to Toshi’s future boyfriend.”

 

     Aizawa’s eyes went wide, setting him down on his feet, before there was a shriek behind him.

 

     Shinsou tackled Midoriya to the ground, twisting so Midoriya would land on his chest instead of the floor, before turning and pinning the boy to the ground.

 

       “The bro code!” He shrieked. “You’re not supposed to tell my parents who I have my eyes on!”

 

     Midoriya stuck his tongue out. “You told them who I had my eyes on.”

 

     Shinsou grinned. “So you are checking  out Todoroki?”

 

     Midoriya paused, before crying out in indignation, shoving the boy off of him as he pouted.

 

       “I even went through all the trouble of getting his name, his quirk, and assuring him that we weren’t dating. Just to be stabbed in the back like this? Wow, brotherhood is truly amazing.”

 

       “You got his name?!” Shinsou said, sounding just as excited as when Hatsume had made him his uniform.

 

     Midoriya nodded haughtily, loving how he could dangle the boy’s name like leverage.  “Yeah, I did. But we have to go watch the exams, so let’s make our way to the viewing room.”

 

     Aizawa chuckled at the way Shinsou slumped his shoulders and dragged his feet as they walked towards the room. He would find out the boy’s name from Midoriya, and then he could carefully watch his exam, see if he was worthy to date his son.

 

     As soon as they entered the viewing room, Midoriya was crowded by everyone, and his eyes were wide as all of the heroes crowded around him.

 

     When they first met, the heroes were all over Shinsou and him, asking questions about their childhoods, their costumes, support items, injuries, everything. They wanted to know how the children of the emotionless Aizawa Shota acted, how they fit into the family dynamic.

 

      “All right,” Nezu said, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “The exams will begin in five minutes, please take a seat and leave poor Akatani alone.”

 

     There was quiet grumbling as they all shuffled to their seats, pulling out clipboards to write down the names of the children who catches their attention them the most.

 

     Midoriya walked over to where Aizawa was sitting while Nemuri was squishing Shinsou’s cheeks, and leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Kaminari, electricity quirk.”

 

     Aizawa’s eyebrows raised in amusement when he pulled the boy’s file out. “Another... loud blonde. Fun.”

 

     Midoriya snickered when suddenly Yamada was listening. He had to leave in a little, but he still crouched down beside Aizawa.

 

       “What was that?” He asked, and Aizawa shook his head amusedly, showing his boyfriend the boy’s picture.

 

       “Hitoshi’s love interest.”

 

     Yamada narrowed his eyes. “He’s too young to be dating.”

 

     Aizawa leaned close to his boyfriend, and Yamada’s face flushed pink. “You and I started dating as first years.” He whispered, and Midorya groaned when Yamada shivered.

 

       “I’m leaving!” He called to them, practically sprinting away when the couple laughed. Yamada said his goodbye and made his way to the tower where he would overlook the examinee’s test.

 

     If that’s how they felt when Toshi and I messing around, I’m going to seriously apologize .

 

       “Onee-chan!” Midoriya called when he saw Nemuri, who was now rocking Shinsou from side to side, her arms curled around his head. He locked eyes with Shinsou, and the brainwashed looked like a traumatized kitten had just gone through six different kids petting him in different levels of aggression. His eyes pleaded for help.

 

        “The exams will start, and I don’t want you to get into trouble for not sitting down!” He puffed his cheeks out, something that Hatsume’s mother said was absolutely adorable, and it seemed like it was true.

 

     Nemuri released her clutches on his brother, the boy slumping to the ground as if he had been shot. She placed her hands on her cheeks, chest swelling up from her emotions. “You’re so kind, my little sweet pea.”

 

     He puffed his cheeks out in indignation. “Sweet pea?! Sweet pea?!”

 

     Nemuri just seemed to find that all the more adorable, as she made a squealing sound before squeezing him to her chest, and making her way to her seat.

 

     Midoriya leaned over where Shinsou was laying, a snicker in his tone. “You’re welcome. I just saved your life.”

 

     All he got back was a groan.

 

     Suddenly, the lights turned off and the screens lit up, illuminating the heros in a dull green as the cameras turned on. The screens were showing multiple areas that cameras were placed, names above the screen to keep track of the students scores.

 

     He darted to his Dad’s seat, and squished himself onto the edge, Aizawa huffing and relinquishing half of his seat to his son.

 

     Aizawa leaned over. “If you see someone with potential, let me know. You two will be required to help the students, so it would be best to look for people who can be molded and shaped.”

 

     Midoriya made a face at the thought of trying to teach teenagers, but he nodded and he heard Yamada yell, “Start!”

 

     He involuntarily jerked, as if he was the one taking the test, and leaned in when he realized none of the teenagers had moved.

 

       “Why—“

 

       What are you doing?! There’s no count down in real life! Go! Go! Go!”

 

    Aizawa grinned. Let’s hope this year’s class won’t have zero potential.

 

 

 

 

 

     Okay, honestly, Kaminari thought he was doing okay. Ignoring the fact that doing ‘okay’ in a life or death situation was not ideal, he had done his best.

 

     He had studied hard, and still felt like he could’ve done better on the written test, but there’s no going back now. He had met up with Sero for lunch, because they had been placed in different testing areas, and complained about the hot boy in the store, to try and relax before the physical test began.

 

     I mean, how the hell do you let such a hot piece of ass get away like that?!

 

     He knew Sero was up to his eyes in exasperation, because it had been such a while ago, but that boy was hot as fuck, and he didn’t even take the boy’s number!

 

     If there was a list of things Kaminari Denki regretted, that would make the number one with a gold star, hands down.

 

     Then, the boy who was with said hottie crawls out of a vent , and calmly says that Hottie is his brother, they’re both adopted, and their spots in Yuuei’s Heroics course is guaranteed. Recommendations then?

 

     The boy had then stood up and adjusted the headphones he always seemed to wear, and Kaminari had seen the bandages around his torso. Why does a fifteen year old boy need his torso to be bandaged? Is it his quirk? What kind of—

 

       START!!!”

 

     Kaminari jolted, and looked up at where Present Mic was standing.

 

       WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THERE’S NO COUNTDOWN IN REAL LIFE!! GO! GO! GO!”

 

     He turned and bolted towards the entrance. It was a shame he and Sero had been separated, because they could’ve had each other’s backs.

 

     Too bad, he’d have to make due on his own.

 

     He quickly broke away from the groups, taking a major risk as he tried to skirt around the edges to find robots, as opposed to running to the middle, where everyone else was going. If he didn’t find any robots than he would go to the middle and pray there were robots left for him. Robots were mechanical, made meaning they’re made with electricity, and would be easy to take down with electricity.

 

     ...if said robots did not have lasers .

 

     He shrieked and ducked underneath the laser beam as it tried to take his head off, before launching himself at the robot as if he was going to hug it, and sending electricity into it until it broke.

 

     He stepped out from underneath it and blinked in shock, noticing that if he brought the robot’s attention to him, all he had to do was dodge and shock one of them, and the electricity would run through all of them.

 

      Okay he thought. You can do this. Stick to the plan.

 

     When Present Mic was saying how much time they had left, it was lost on his ears due to the giant zero pointer that  had just appeared, a loud booming noise alerting him of it’s entrance by destroying a ton of buildings. Everyone ducked down and covered their ears with cries, shielding their heads from the worst of the rubble, and all Kaminari could do was stare at it in shock.

 

     The sound it made when it stepped was a horribly loud explosion noise that made Kaminari feel like the sound was shaking his entire being, and left him feeling dizzy.

 

     As soon as it took its second step, he forced the ice out of his legs and turned to run away, before he tripped like a fucking damsel over  some stupid rub

 

     That was not rubble, that was a human. A human boy.

 

     Kaminari instantly snatched the boy’s collar, yanking him up and trying to run, but the boy’s legs gave out, and they both fell back to the ground.

 

       “Hey! Come on! We have to go!” He yelled, shaking the boy’s shirt, but his red eyes were frozen on the giant robot in front of him, and Kaminari yanked the boy to face him, his eyes still dazed.

 

      Please forgive me.

 

     Kaminari pulled his hand back and brought it down hard on the redhead’s cheek, the force sending the boy’s head to the side. The sound was covered by the crashing sound of cement smashing into the ground behind them.

 

       “We have to go!” He yelled again, and the boy looked at him in shock, before they both heard someone cry out behind him.

 

     He whirled around, and spotted a girl laying on the floor, legs crushed by some rubble. Her face was twisted in pain as she shifted, another cry falling from her lips when she realized she couldn’t move. The robot took another booming sound, and she looked up at it in horror, like had had accepted the fact that she couldn’t escape.

 

     He knew that look. The look of utter acceptance, she knew she wasn’t getting out, and she accepted the fact. Hell if  he let another person feel that way.

 

     He instantly snatched the back of the redhead‘s shirt, and yanked him around.

 

     The boy’s eyes were wide with fear, “What are you doing?!”

  

       “What’s your quirk?” He asked, frantic. That girl didn’t have much time.

 

        “What?!”

 

        “Goddamnit, just tell me your quirk!”

 

       “I-I can harden any part of my body.”

 

     Kaminari nodded, and began tugging the reluctant boy towards the girl.

 

       “There’s a girl trapped underneath that rubble, and we’re going to get her out before that robot crushes her.”

 

     The boy looked shocked, before respect shone on his face. “That’s so manly...”

 

       “What?! C’mon! We need to hurry!”

 

     They ran over to the girl, and she looked up with wide shocked eyes when they crouched beside her.

 

       “Are you okay?” Kaminari asked, shaking as he shot a look at the advancing zero-pointer.

 

       “Y-Yeah, but I can’t feel my ankle.” She said, before her eyes went wide. “What are you doing?! Run! You’ll lose points because of me!”

 

      ‘This is a hero school. Do what you think is right.’  He remembered the boy saying.  Right now, saving this girl seemed right.

 

       “Screw the points, I’m not leaving  you here. That’s not what heroes do.” He said, panic turning his thoughts frantic as the robot took another booming step.

 

     He heard the other boy whisper, “So manly.”, before he was sliding his hands underneath the rubble, and his arms turned to what looked like rock.

 

       “I’m going to lift this, and you’re going to pull her out.” He said, all traces of fear gone, and Kaminari nodded, gently grabbing the girl around the waist to yank her free.

 

     As soon as the boy pulled the rubble off of her, with much strain, Kaminari pulled her out and the boy dropped the rubble.

 

     They tried grabbing each of her arms, but the robot took another large step and was suddenly three seconds away from squashing them like bugs. Kaminari gently grabbed the girl and tossed her over his shoulder and took off, the boy running right beside him to make sure no rubble fell on the girl.

 

       AAAAAAAND TIME’S UP!”

 

     Instantly, the robot ceased movement, and Kaminari and the boy slowed, before he dropped to his knees in relief, his heart still racing in his chest from the adrenaline. The redhead slumped to the ground beside him, completely exhausted, and groaned. The girl squeaked when Kaminari gently pulled her off of his shoulders, and immediately began spouting apologies.

 

       “Oh my gosh!” She cried. “I’m so sorry ! You guys probably lost so many points because  of me! You didn’t have to—“

 

       “‘ This is a hero school. ” He recited, and the other two looked at him. “‘ Do what you think is right. Someone said that to me before I took the test, and in that second, nothing else mattered but making sure you didn’t get crushed by that robot.”

 

     The girl looked shocked, and the boy muttered another, “So manly...”

 

     They sat there and caught their breaths, waiting for their hearts to stop trying to jump out of their chests, before they heard an old lady ask if anyone had any injuries.

 

       “Oh. Over here!” He called, waving his hand and gaining everyone’s attention.

 

       “Oh deary me,” the lady said once she saw the girl’s ankle. “What happened?”

 

       “I was crushed under some rubble, and these two got me out from underneath it.” The girl said, and the old lady nodded, before planting a giant kiss on the girl’s forehead.

 

     Immediately, the girl’s ankle glowed a light teal as the ugly purple color began receding, and it gently twisted back to the normal angle.

 

       “Wow,” the three teens breathed in unison.

 

     The nurse reached into her pocket and handed all three of them gummies, “Alrighty dears, make your way back to the locker rooms please.”

 

     Kaminari got back to his feet, feeling much more energetic, and he helped the girl up.

 

       “Thank you so much,” she said again as they began walking towards the exit. “To the both of you. Is there any way I can repay you?”

 

     Kaminari hummed. “I’m gay, but you can buy me coffee.”

 

     The girl threw her head back and laughed, while the other boy nodded in agreement.

 

       “Alright,” she said once she had stopped laughing. “I’m Uraraka Ochako, who are you guys?”

 

       “Kaminari Denki, at your service.” He playfully bowed and pressed a kiss above Uraraka’s hand, the girl giggling at his action

 

       “I’m Kirishima Eijirou, nice to meet you two.”

 

     The three of them walked back to the locker rooms, talking about anything and everything as they got to know each other better, and promised to meet outside the gates to exchange numbers.

 

       “So, how do you think you did?” Kirishima said once they were in the male locker rooms.

 

     He was shocked to find that Kirishima’s locker was right beside his, and when he checked Sero’s, he was disappointed to find it empty. He probably already left.

 

       “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I think I passed, and if I didn’t, I’ll just apply for general studies, y’know?”

 

       “Oh me too,” the red head agreed. “I was kind of—“

 

     Kaminari pulled his backpack out of the locker and turned to look at the boy who had gone silent, only to find him staring at something behind him.

 

     He turned around and followed Kirishima’s gaze, landing on a boy with spiky blonde hair, his muscles tensing under his black T-shirt as he opened his locker to grab his change of clothes.

 

     Ah! He had seen this boy. When they were walking to the testing grounds, he had been making little pops in his hand, which looked like mini firecrackers. He didn’t know how the boy would be able to get into with tiny little explosions like that, especially since Kaminiari himself can use a lot of electricity, and he still had a hard time.

 

   He turned back to Kirishima when blonde boy walked to the bathrooms to change, but Kirishima was still staring at him, watching the boy walk away like he’d never see him again.

 

     And Kaminari understood that look.

 

     He clapped a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder, and the boy jerked, whirling around to stare at him in confusion as Kaminari shook his head.

 

       “My dude,” he said dramatically. “Staring isn’t going to get you a man. You gotta go over there and take him yourself.”

 

     Kirishima’s face flushed, and he opened his mouth to deny it, but Kirishima just shushed him, shaking his head.

 

       “Go get your mans,” he said, before shoving Kirishima, who stumbled back and knocked into someone’s chest.

 

     Kirishima whirled around to apologize, and met red eyes.

 

     Kaminari bolted after that, and even if he really wanted to see how that played out, he didn’t want pop-pop boy to get mad at him.

 

     He didn’t double back on himself six times because he didn’t get lost, okay? He knew where he was going, and he knew the shortcut he took was actually... the long cut, so stop shaking your head at him.

 

     When he finally arrived at the gates, he took a second to do a victory dance, shaking all of his limbs and bobbing his head to his own song as he mentally cheered. He finally made it out!

 

     Ignoring all of the weird looks he was getting, he scanned the students standing by the entrance, and caught sight of a brown bob sitting on a bench.

 

     He instantly dashed over to Uraraka, and flushed when he saw that Kirishima was sitting beside her.

 

     The red haired boy raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms and Kaminari sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, got lost?”

 

       “There were signs,” Kirishima deadpanned, and Kaminari cringed.

 

       “Shush, are we exchanging numbers or not?” He said, waving his hands in their faces when they both laughed at the sudden change of subject.

 

     All three of them swapped phones, and inputted their numbers, before squeezing onto the bench to wait for their bus to show up.

 

       “So,” Uraraka said conversationally. “See any cute guys during the exams?”

 

     Instantly, Kaminari’s brain flashed to the boy who had crawled out of the vent, the boy who said Hottie was his brother, and slumped back onto his seat with a groan.

 

       “I saw the brother of  someone I thought was super cute, but I never saw him .” He whined, and Uraraka hissed in sympathy.

 

       “I... saw someone,” Kirishima said hesitantly, like he wasn’t used to speaking his thoughts.

 

       “Really?” Uraraka shuffled closer, wiggling her eyebrows. “What did they look like?”

 

     Kirishima looked to the side and twisted his fingers together, eyes glazing over as he mentally pictured the boy. “Uhh, spiky blonde hair, tall, red eyes, holy shit he’s behind you—“

 

     Both Kaminari and Uraraka whirled around to scan all of the students lingering around, ignoring Kirishima gasping about being inconspicuous. When Kaminari caught sight of spiky blonde hair, he immediately pointed pop-pop boy out.

 

     Uraraka whistled, her head going up and down as she scanned the boy. “My bisexual ass approves . Better hurry and claim him, Kirishima, or I might just do it for you.”

 

     As Kirishima stuttered excuses as to why he couldn’t do that, his face rivaling his hair color, and Uraraka saying of course he could, Kaminari laughed.

 

     They chatted and laughed, told jokes and made each other cringe with horrible past fails, before one by one, they got onto their respective busses to head back home.

 

     Sitting on the bus, with two new contacts in his phone, and plans to meet up again, he felt as if everything was going to be okay.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     Shinsou jolted awake at the sound of someone squealing, his eyes wide as he looked around, before relaxing when no villain or criminal blew his door down. He shook his head, running a hand through his blue hair before he collapsed back onto the bed, tossing a pillow over his head to try and get more sleep.

 

     But it seems life isn’t kind.

 

     The door slammed open, and someone jumped onto his legs. By the incoherent, exited rambling, it was Izuku, and he was pumped to the brim with caffeine.

 

       “Can I help you?” He asked, voice scratchy and low, and the boy paused, before shimmying into the spot by Shinsou’s chest, Midoriya’s head popping underneath the pillow.

 

     He peeled open an eye to glare playfully at the boy, and was assaulted by his extremely large beam.

 

     He was right, Midoriya’s breath smelled of extremely sweet caffeine, and he crinkled his nose at the scent.

 

       “Guess what?” Midoriya whispered, his eyes twinkling with his excitement.

 

     Shinsou closed his eyes with a hum, the vibrations running through his chest and into Midoriya’s. “You finally became a Todoroki?”

 

     There was a pause, before Midoriya was shrieking. He shoved Shinsou away and out from underneath the pillow, Shinsou’s chuckles turning into a whine when the bright light assaulted his sleepy eyes.

 

       “Sweetheart,” He whined, before rolling over and gathering the smaller boy into his arms, ignoring the pout on his face. “I‘m trying my best to fall back asleep, but I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

 

     Instantly, blood flushed into Midoriya’s face, and he shoved Shinsou’s amused face away. “You can’t say that!” He cried. “I’m your brother now!”

 

     Shinsou paused, as if the thought just occurred to him. “Oh, well, incest is how far I’ll fall for you.”

 

       “Oh my god, Toshi, shut up!” Midoriya squealed, his face flushing darker as he squirmed in his arms, and Shinsou reluctantly relinquished his hold on the boy.

 

       “Anyways! As I was saying,” he shot a glare at his brother, who just grinned, unapologetic. “School starts tomorrow! I’m so excited! And your boyfriend is  in our class~”

 

     His voice was sing-song in a teasing way, and Shinsou was lurching out of the bed at the tone, Midoriya running out of the room with a shriek.

 

       “Papa! Save me!” He cried, and Yamada whirled around with a spatula in hand like it was a knife, a startled look on his face as he was shoved towards Shinsou. Midoriya took the man’s moment of shock to steal a bacon and run.

 

        “What?!” Shinsou shrieked, pointing at Midoriya like he stole humanities prize. “He stole a bacon!”

 

     Yamada turned around to stare at his other son, but the boy had both of his hands up in surrender. Yamada would’ve believed him if his cheeks weren’t puffed out, the evidence of the stolen bacon.

 

     A fond smile grew on his lips and he shook his head, before plucking another slice of bacon and tossing it to Shinsou, who stumbled back to catch it like a dog to a ball.

 

       “Tattle tail,” Midoriya muttered, but Shinsou just stuck his tongue out, before they were dancing around each other, trying to jab the sensitive part of their sides.

 

       “What’s all the commotion?” Aizawa asked, coming out of their bedroom in his usual attire.

 

       “Dad, I have a question.” Midoriya said in a rush, bouncing up to him as Aizawa raised an eyebrow and sat down, accepting a coffee cup from Yamada with a nod. “What am I going to do about schooling? Class starts tomorrow, and I haven’t been to an actual school since I was nine.”

 

     Aizawa hummed, furrowing his eyebrows like he was in deep thought, before shrugging.

 

     Midoriya just stared at him. “That’s it? You, you don’t know?”

 

       “I guess we’ll just wing it, and hope for the best.” He said nonchalantly, taking another sip of his coffee, and Yamada shook his head with a chuckle, taking a seat at the table.

 

     Midoriya sat frozen for a good five seconds, before slumping over onto the ground like a log, making Shinsou shriek about his injuries.

 

       “I’m going to die,” Midoriya moaned. “I’m going to be the dumbest person there, and I’m actually going  to die.”

 

       “I’m just kidding, Nezu wants to test you, see where you are school wise, because you’re on the same mental level as him.”

 

     Midoriya sat up quick at that. “I’m not on the same mental level as Nezu.”

 

     Aizawa paused, looking down at him. “He said you were, because you were the one keeping the online hackers away.”

 

     Shinsou threw his head back and began howling with laughter, while Midoriya just incredulously stared at him.

 

       “Uhh, no. Hacking comes as a second to breathing to Mei-chan, so if Nezu thinks I’m the one doing it, he never got past the first line of defense.”

 

     Yamada stared at the boys in shock, his food forgotten as he tried to understand what Midoriya meant.

 

       “Hatsume...”

 

       “Is smarter than Nezu.” Shinsou gasped, sliding to the ground with a red face, finding the whole situation to be gold .

 

       “Well,” Midoriya said placatingly, “In terms of hacking, yes. She.... is better than Nezu at hacking.”

 

       “Holy shit .”

 

       “What happened to no cussing at the table, ‘Zashi?”

 

 

 

       “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

 

     Midoriya was three seconds away from banging his head against Nezu’s precious China tea set.

 

     “I mean,” he said slowly, trying not to snap at the male who could actually ruin  him. “That Hatsume was the one who programmed to keep hackers away. She made it look like me as the first defense, Hitoshi as the second, and then she programmed a total memory wipe as the third.”

 

     Nezu just stared at him, his tea cool from where it’d been sitting for the past thirty minutes. He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Someone had outwitted him .

 

       “I’m saying this,” Midoriya said, “because you wanted to test my IQ or something, and I’m not a genius. I run on street smarts, insults, caffeine,mand analysis, not book smarts.”

 

     Nezu nodded slowly, taking a sip of his cold tea, before leaning over and sliding his desk drawer open.

 

       “I would still like to see where you are, so I know how much to expect from you in the classroom.”

 

     He pulled out a thick packet of papers, and Midoriya was waiting for him to slip one to him, but Nezu nodded to the entire thing.

 

       “Wait,” he said, pulling the entire packed towards him. “You want me to answer all of  these?”

 

     Nezu’s eyes glinted, and he took another sip of his tea. “You have two hours.”

 

     Two hours later, and he was stomping to the teacher’s lounge, muttering incoherent threats under his breath as he clenched his hands.

 

     That test was over a two hundred questions long. That may not be a lot for normal students, but the last time Midoriya went to school was when he was nine. So yes, two hundred fucking questions was a lot.

 

     And Nezu just stared at  him, watching his pencil scratch against the paper as Midoriya got increasingly frustrated.

 

     History was terrible, he couldn’t remember the names of the important people, and the dates kept slipping his grasp, leaving him writing down the dates of all of his old favorite movie releases.

 

     Math was okay, the numbers always made sense if you looked at it a different way than another brain expects you too, and he did that a lot when he was patrolling, trying to find an escape route that won’t won’t end up with him becoming a bloody splatter on the floor.

 

     Science was the same, he needed to know what body parts he could smash with a pipe and not kill someone, where he could land from a high drop without killing himself , and how much the body could take from a certain element before it shut down.

 

     Fuck chemistry, it could die in a fucking hole for all he cared.

 

     Japanese was a pain, because he couldn’t remember how to spell words that the real world doesn’t use, or where to place a comma, because villains aren’t going to ask you to correct their grammar.

 

     English, piece of cake. He picked it up on the streets as a way of communicating so the villains are more confused as to what you’re planning.

 

     Ha, how ironic. He was doing worse in his native tongue than he was doing in his second language.

 

     When he finally arrived at the teacher’s lounge, he went to open the large sliding door, but his phone rang in his back pocket.

 

     He slipped away from the lounge and pulled his phone out, a smile making its’s way onto his face when he saw it ID.

 

       “Hello?” He said.

 

     Phone calls made him feel stupid, because with his headphones, he pressed his phone against it like it was against his ear, and it looked extremely counterproductive.

 

       “ZU-NII YOU SCARED ME!”  Kota’s voice rang out, and Midoriya winced when he heard the boy begin crying.

 

       “Izumi, Izumi, hey, I’m sorry, I’m okay I promise.” He cooed, walking away from the lounge, but the boy kept crying.

 

       “A-auntie said M-Machiavellian was s-shot a-and you didn’t answer y-your phone, I w-was so scared,” the boy sobbed, and Midoriya sat down in front of the large window walls, staring out onto the property with a soft smile.

 

     He and Kota have been keeping in touch, the little boy calling whenever his aunt let him have the phone, and they grew a brotherly bond. Kota was the third person he told he was Machiavellian, after he made the boy swear he couldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t have any of the Wild Wild Pussycats busting down his door, so the little boy had kept his promise.

 

       “Izumi,” Midoriya cooed, and the boy sniffed. “I promise you I’m okay. I’m sorry that I scared you.”

 

       “D-did you really g-get shot?”  The boy sounded so scared, and Midoriya felt like an ass, because he had gone and disappeared off the face of the earth for a week after publicly getting injured, and Kota was probably worried sick that he had lost another family member.

 

       “I did, twice,” the boy’s breath hiccuped, and Midoriya rushed to comfort him. “But! It was nothing but a scratch! A measly bullet can’t take the great Machiavellian down!” He threw his hand up like Kota could see him, and he heard the little boy giggle.

 

       “Pinky promise me you’re okay?”  God this boy was so adorable.

 

       “Pinky promise,” he took a breath and blew air into the microphone, hearing Kota screech and yank the phone away from his ear, before laughing. “There, did you feel that? That was me sending my promise over to you, okay?”

 

     The boy giggled again, Okay Zu-nii, but when I see you again I want the biggest,  BIGGEST hug ever!”

 

     Midoriya gasped and jumped to his feet, putting on hand on his waist and leaning over, as if he was towering over the boy in person. “Do you think you can handle my biggest, biggest hug ever?”

 

       “I can! I super, super can!”  The boy sounded excited, and Midoriya could hear a slight rush of air, as if the boy was bouncing on his feet in excitement.

 

     Midoriya pretended to think, humming to let Kota know that he hadn’t made up his mind. The boy whined, and Midoriya turned when he heard someone walk behind him.

 

       “Alright little bro,” he said, cocking his head at Aizawa, who was leaning against the wall. “You’ll get my biggest hug ever, pinky promise.”

 

     He blew air into the microphone again, and Kota shrieked, before they said their goodbyes, and Midoriya hung up the phone.

 

       “Who was that?” Aizawa asked, ruffling his hair as they began making their way back to the lounge.

 

       “Kota Izumi,” He said, and Aizawa stumbled, before pulling the door open.

 

       “You're the  big sister he won’t shut up about?!”

 

     Midoriya scoffed. “Don’t sound so surprised .”

 

     They both entered, and Midoriya squealed as he was suddenly crushed against Nemuri’s side.

 

       “Nooooooo,” he moaned, squirming in her grasp, and Shinsou just smirked at him. “After I saved you too, Toshi. Betrayal. Absolute betrayal.”

 

     Shinsou just stuck his tongue out at the boy, and watched him squirm in the woman’s grasp, before the heroes finished the classing.

 

       “Well, we’re done with the organizing, so, everyone’s dismissed.”

 

     Midoriya pouted when all of the heroes in the room ran over to him, laughing at his misery, cooing and pinching his cheek as if he was a child.

 

       “I’m not a baby!” He screeched, but the image was ruined by him crossing his arms and being carried by Nemuri.

 

       “Oh, who’s this?”

 

     Midoriya froze at the voice, and Nemuri set him down at his sudden tenseness, where he slowly turned around to meet the owner of the voice.

 

     Blue eyes, blonde hair, gangly limbs, and a sunken in face.

 

     It was fucking All Might.

 

     The man paled, and took a step back when he got a proper look at Midoriya’s face. All of the heroes standing around them froze at his reaction, the tension between hero and hero’s child palpable to everyone.

 

       “Oh...” All Might said, shifting uneasily, his eyes darting past all the heroes. “I didn’t know... you were a hero’s child.”

 

       “Would it have stopped you from saying what you did?” Midoriya’s voice was cold, harsh in a way none of the heroes have ever heard, and they turned to look at him in shock.

 

     The man’s head dropped, his blonde hair shadowing his usually bright eyes, but they held no regret. “...no.”

 

     Midoriya sucked in a breath, and he turned around, ignoring the concerned heroes as he covered his face with his elbow, trying to keep the tears in.

 

     No matter how many times it’s said to him, it still hurts to be told he couldn’t be a hero. Living with his mother, he had had people telling him he couldn’t do it all the time, and he had forgotten what that horrible feeling felt like, since vigilantism was his escape from everything. It didn’t help that this was All Might, the number One hero, the Symbol Of Peace, and he didn’t believe Midoriya could do it.

 

     But he told himself he wouldn’t cry over lost causes.

 

     He put his arm down and blinked the tears away, shoving them deep into his chest as he turned to face the hero, the man flinching back when he saw the boy’s cold glare.

 

       “Good thing you can’t fucking stop me, huh?” His voice was strong, even as it broke on the first word.

 

     Yamada was tense, he had looked up when everything had suddenly gone quiet, and had paled when he saw his son talking the one person he really didn’t like. He had reached out and grabbed Aizawa, tugging him around to look at who Midoriya was talking too, and he was on his feet in an instant, the other heroes taking notice of the boy’s tense parents.

 

       “Wait, what’s happening?” Snipe asked, confusion coloring his tone, and the other heroes nodded in agreement, looking between All Might and Midoriya, then to Aizawa, Yamada, and Shinsou’s tense forms.

 

       “Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Midoriya said, his voice still cold and unrelenting.

 

     All Might shifted, rubbing his arms as he tried to escape the boy’s glare. “My boy—“

 

       “Don’t call me that!” He screamed, and Shinsou snatched him around the waist when he lunged at the gangly man, rage building up in his chest at the man’s audacity . “You can’t call me that! You told me I could never be  a hero! I hate you!  I HATE YOU!”

 

     Shinsou managed to pull him out of the room despite all of his angry thrashing, and once the doors were closed, leaving All Might to deal with all of the incredulously pissed heroes, he collapsed, shaking as he tried not to cry into Shinsou’s chest. Shinsou sunk to his knees with him, cradling his fall and holding the boy close.

 

       “Sweetheart,” Shinsou murmured softly, and Midoriya clenched his shirt, dropping his head as he hiccuped.

 

       “I-I promised I wouldn’t cry over l-lost causes a-and—“ he sucked in a huge breath, and slumped into Shinsou, the boy curling around him like his own personal shield.

 

        “Izuku, we talked about this,” he whispered, and pressed his head against Midoriya’s curly black hair. “It’s okay to cry. I’ll always be here for you.”

 

     And so cry he did, because Shinsou would always be there to put his broken pieces back together.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

       “I can’t do this.”

 

     Shinsou heaved an exasperated sigh. “Izuku, for the last time, come out. Meimei is going to kill you if you don’t show her how her new uniform looks on you.”

 

       “I’M LITERALLY IN A BRA.”

 

       “And you literally don’t have breasts. Hurry up.”

 

     The door clicked open, and Midoriya stepped out with crossed arms, a pout on his face.

 

     Shinsou whistled. “10/10.”

 

     Since Midoriya was still on a fine line for his back to rip back open, Recovery Girl had told Hatsume to make sure Midoriya’s uniform had more protection and padding to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

 

     When Hatsume first submitted the uniform, Aizawa was against it, just because it showed so much skin, but Hatsume said they were trying to sell Midoriya as a girl, and the more skin he showed, the more it showed that he was confident in his body. A boy cross-dressing would not show that much skin, because he would be worried about being found out, therefore they wouldn’t automatically think, ‘that’s a boy ’ if there was a bunch of skin showing, and the figure was female.

 

     He was reluctant, but Aizawa gave in, and Hatsume had quickly began making it. His padded leggings would stay the same, it would just have more weapons hiding so the students would underestimate them.

 

     His arms would be covered in his usual dark green material, except silver bands would stop it at his wrists and the beginning of his bicep, right under the shoulder. They had thick elbow pads, thicker than the ones he had on his original outfit, like Hatsume was expecting him to jump off of high areas to freak the students out.

 

     ...which means he wasn’t being very sneaky when he was planning that out.

 

     The top... resembled a sports bra, with thick straps and no wire. It was padded, and upon touch, was the same fabric that covered his genitals. There was a strip of fabric that covered the ‘Y’ part of his chest, it connected to black mesh that covered the rest of his chest as it went up, connecting to the choker that would wrap around his throat. On the bottom of the bra, a small circular brooch sat, and Hatsume said it had a tracker installed.

 

     Hatsume had also created wrappings that would wrap around his bullet wounds, and they were thick and strong, flexible like Aizawa’s capture weapon, but softer so as to not irritate the wounds. She had changed his boots just a little bit, they had thicker soles, because she said if he clicked his heels together, a knife would slide out of the heel and he could... yeah, he could do that.

 

     With the knifes out, it added to about an inch to the normal three inches, and that put him at Shinsou’s height.

 

     He crossed his arms with a smug smile, eyeing the top of Shinsou’s head. “I’m catching up to you.”

 

     Shinsou scoffed, before snatching Midoriya’s arms to drag him over to where Hatsume was standing, outside of the boy’s bathroom. “Take off those heels and then we’ll talk.”

 

       “Careful,” Midoriya warned. “One misfortunate accident will land you on the wrong side of these heels.”

 

     Hatsume sprang to her feet when she heard the door open, and she instantly darted over, spinning Midoriya around like it was his birthday to scan everything and make sure it was functioning properly. She made him sit down and click his heels together, muttering to herself as she pulled him to his feet and spun him around.

 

       “I wish your dad didn’t take so long to approve on the base,” she muttered, and speak of the devil, Aizawa knocked on the door and let himself in.

 

       “That... doesn’t look like my son anymore,” he said, stumbling back when Hatsume whirled around with a glare, before relaxing a bit when she realized who it was.

 

       “Duh,” Hatsume deadpanned, before crossing her arms. “If you hadn’t taken so long to  approve on the uniform, we would’ve had more time to test out the authenticity, and make sure he wouldn’t have a clothing mishap in the middle of a battle.”

 

     Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “I approved on that design last week.”

 

       “Exactly!” She screeched. “A week ago! A week ! I had to make Hito-chan’s and my uniforms as well, along with the broken babies, and you gave me a WEEK to do so! What if one of the shock absorbers malfunctions and Zu-chan breaks an ankle because he decided to jump off the roof? What if his earbuds break? What if their voice changers break? YOU DIDN’T THINK OF ANY OF  THIS DID YOU—“

 

       “Meimei,” Shinsou said, placing a hand on the girl’s heaving shoulder as Aizawa held his hands up, a shocked expression on his face. “It’ll be okay. You can fix it while the week passes.”

 

       “School starts in two hours , and you think everything will be okay?! UGH! I’m gonna MURDER YOU—“

 

     “Mei-chan,” Midoriya said, and the girl whipped her angry gaze his way. “It’ll be okay, I promise. We won’t be doing anything too strict, it’s just the first day.”

 

     Aizawa coughed, and shifted uneasily, as if he had a secret to hide. Hatsume slowly turned around, anger coming off of her in waves, ready to murder someone, but Shinsou grabbed her arms with a nervous laugh before she could orphan him again.

 

       “My uniform! Tell me you fixed it!”

 

     She turned to him with an offended scoff, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and Aizawa got to live another day. “Of course I fixed it! Come on, let’s go get it. Zu-chan put your contacts in!”

 

     She tugged Shinsou back to where she had their uniforms displayed, and Midoriya mocked her command in a scary accurate imitation of her voice.

 

     Still, one would have to be suicidal to defy the words of Hatsume Mei.

 

     He snatched the contact case and glared at the abominations they held, before looking up when Aizawa sagged to the floor.

 

       “What?” He asked, and the man turned to him with eyes that have seen everything.

 

       “Is she... always like that?” Midoriya nodded, and opened the case, memory telling him he didn’t need a mirror as he pulled out the large contacts.

 

       “She only gets like that when someone messes with her babies, or when Toshi and I are in danger.” He cursed loudly when he finally got the contact in, blinking rapidly to set it into place before moving to the next eye.

 

      “Could you really have a clothing mishap?”

 

     Midoriya hummed, working on the other eye. “Yeah, the first time I tested the original uniform was for mishaps as well, but it was dark outside, so it wouldn’t have mattered if something happened, I could always just slip away. She’s worried that I’ll have a mishap in the middle of class or a training exercise.”

 

       “I... didn’t think about that.” He muttered, and Midoriya chuckled, hissing once the contact was in.

 

      “And that’s why she was three seconds from killing you.” He blinked his eyes, before putting his hands up to shadow them, and he pressed the brooch that had a tracker in it. Instantly, his contacts began glowing, and he hummed in awe when he saw they were brighter than his original ones. He pressed the brooch again, and the glow faded, leaving traces left.

 

       “Oh yeah,” he said, stretching his arms above his head, and twisting to the side gently, nodding his head when he didn’t feel his wounds irritate. “Since I’m Machiavellian, and you’re my homeroom teacher, I’m going to have to sass the hell out of you, like before you adopted me.” He began going through some basic defense moves, slowly moving quicker and quicker when he realized it wasn’t going to hurt, until he was a blur of green, twisting and twirling around the room while Aizawa lamented over his son’s uniform ego.

 

     The door was thrown open, and Shinsou walked in, fully attired in his signature purple uniform, twisting his bracelet around his skin and making his contacts glow. He looked up and nodded at Midoriya’s wrappings.

 

       “Doesn’t irritate anything?” He said, stepping forwards with his hands out when Midoriya did a twirl.

 

       “Nope!” He chirped, and Shinsou grinned.

 

       “Good. Ready to mess with some kids?”

 

     Midoriya bared his teeth. “Born ready.”

 

 

 

     They had actually planned to scare the students, like drop down from the ceiling and land on a desk, or pop out of the vent like a mole, but Aizawa had made them wait in one of the grounds that was used for the upperclassmen training.

 

     Apparently, he was going to put them through a small test to see how well they could do in staying alive for an hour. He called Midoriya and Shinsou ‘Taggers’, and they were intrigued.

 

     Aizawa had shown them the white fabric that the students would be wearing wherever they pleased, and were easily removable if you grabbed it and yanked, much like a capture the flag belt. The students would be sent into the grounds after Midoriya and Shinsou, although the students didn’t know that.

 

     All they knew, was that they needed to protect their ‘Life’ no matter the cost, because once it was taken off of them by one of the ‘Taggers’, they would automatically fail. They could protect themselves of any means, but once their flag was removed, they were out.

 

       “How long does a normal physical exam take?” Midoriya whined into the comm in his ear, his female voice still weirding him out, and he heard Shinsou’s Puppeteer chuckle, deep and husky, like he had just woken up.

 

       Depends ,” he hummed, and Midoriya huffed.

 

       “On what?”

 

       “The teacher and the school.”

 

       “Fun,” Midoriya sighed, leaning back to sit on his padded bottom to let his bent legs get circulation back. The last thing you need is dead legs on the run.

 

     Like the asshole he was, Aizawa took that moment to come over the intercoms.

 

       Taggers into place?

 

     Midoriya stood up and leaned off the side of the building, flashing a thumbs up at one of the cameras he had spotted earlier. He guessed Shinsou did the same thing, because he had to duck back down to the roof quickly when the doors opened.

 

       Students, you have one hour to stay alive. Start.”

 

     Midoriya shook his body out, getting the blood going as he gently pulled out his earbud, and was immediately hearing everyone’s pounding footsteps, their stifled breathing and clothing flapping in the air.

 

     He scoffed. The last thing you need is breezy clothes on a hero’s job. If you had to chose between flashy and thorough, you always go with the latter.

 

     After all, Pride means nothing to a corpse.

 

     He turned, hearing someone come up the stairs, and he quickly scanned his surroundings, making sure there were no other students in sight, before he ran to the edge, sliding off of it but catching the rim below it, effectively leaving him hanging off the side without being seen from above.

 

     He heard the person panting heavily, and by the light footsteps and slight shifting, it was either a female, or a boy with long hair. He couldn’t hear clothing though, so maybe a skin tight suit?

 

     He heard them walk to the edge and sink low, on the other side of where he was hanging, and he stifled his breathing, before calling upon his mighty bicep muscles as he pulled himself to the top.

 

     He completely abandoned his feet, because using them would’ve shoved his lower half away from the wall, therefore making him stand out from below, and making him noisier as he got up.

 

     He got himself onto the roof silently, and was more than a little startled to see nothing but a white belt floating in air, but still low to the floor, like they were still trying to stay out of sight, despite their invisible status.

 

     As he crept closer, when he was at least five feet away, a high pitched scream rang out from the other side of the grounds, and the person instantly stood, as if they were trying to see what had happened.

 

       Satou Rikido, fail.”

 

     Damn. Shinsou got to the first person before he did. He pouted, but still made his way to the person, who was muttering to themselves, and he yanked the belt off, the person whirling around with a gasp.

 

       “Scream,” He said, and the girl sucked in a startled breath and she screamed .

 

       Hagakure Toru, fail.”

 

     He bowed down at the panting girl, feeling a little guilty for scaring her. “My apologies, Hagakure-san, but you should make your way to the screening room.”

 

       “Machiavellian? Your costume...”

 

     He felt an instant irritation at the word costume, but he repeated that she should go to the screening room, and he gave her back her rope. She wasn’t allowed to put it back on, she had to carry it, to let everyone know she had failed.

 

     He sniffed disdainfully. “Costume.” Before he pulled his earbud out just a bit. He heard two people breathing heavily from a couple of floors down, almost covered by Hagakure’s footsteps.

 

     He grinned, because this was actually pretty fun. As he was quietly making his way down the floors, another scream rang out, echoing in the large indoor ground, and Midoriya knew Shinsou was making them scream to intimidate the surviving students.

 

       Jirou Kyoka, fail.”

 

       “Oh my god,” he ducked behind the wall when he heard the male voice speak. It somehow sounded familiar. “You don’t think the Taggers are killing people do you?”

 

       “Don’t be stupid Denki,” another boy spoke, and Midoriya tilted his head. He knew that name. “This is a hero school, no one should be dying.”

 

     Midoriya peeked around the corner, before silently siding around it, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as he pressed the silent brooch, his contacts lighting up and illuminating his entire form.

 

       “Ignorance is a bliss,” he said, and the two boys whirled around, before screeching when they saw his glowing form.

 

       “Oh my god!” One of the boys shrieked, while the other said, “Holy shit!”

 

     Holy shit is correct. This was large elbows and lightning boy. Kaminari Denki and Sero... something.

 

       “You guys are awfully loud,” He cooed, his female voice sounding seductive and god he wanted to smash his head in—

 

       “Ma-Machiavellian?” Sero stuttered, and Midoriya hummed, sliding closer to the trembling friends. “What are you doing here?”

 

       “There should’ve been two letters on the list of your physical exam scores,” he said slowly, a dangerous but innocent tone. “One was M, and the other was P. You didn’t see them?”

 

       “Machiavellian... and... Puppeteer?”

 

       “Bingo!” He giggled, splaying his fingers on his cheeks, promising to bathe bleach when this was done, and never tell Shinsou he was messing with a future Aizawa. “Now, I’m here to kill you, so scream nice and pretty, okay?”

 

      What the actual fuck Izuku?! This is a simulation, not a slaughter house. Get it together!

 

     Kaminari listened quite well, he screamed and scrambled back, but he wasn’t quick for someone who has been running for their entire lives.

 

     He clicked his contact’s glow off, startling the boy’s for a split second at the sudden darkness, and he took the opportunity to spring forwards and snatch both of their white belts. He then twirled around to dart back to the wall he had been leaning against.

 

     Kaminari was on the floor, and Sero was standing, but both were frozen, staring at Midoriya in shock.

 

       “Kaminari Denki, fail. Sero Hanta, fail.”

 

     Midoriya giggled, because he was now ahead of Shinsou, and handed the shocked boys their belts back. “Please make your way to the screening room!”

 

     He skipped out of their line of sight, before dashing into one of the alleyways, ducking under the pipes and jumping over trash cans, before he heard metal bang ahead and a soft curse. No one would’ve heard it over the loud scream that rang out again, but Midoriya did.

 

     He picked up his speed and came around the corner face to face with a... crow’s head.

 

       “Kirishima Eijirou, fail.”

 

     In the time it took for Crow’s eyes to go wide in shock, Midoriya had scanned his entire body hidden underneath his cloak, and noticed a slight rumple on his left arm. He reached his hand out and caught the edge of it just as a shadow burst from the boy’s chest, but he ducked underneath it and slid away in a crouch. The boy whirled around, his shadow forming a... larger crow, before Aizawa’s voice rang over he intercom again.

 

       “Tokoyami Fumikage, fail.”

 

       “Whoa!” Midoriya chuckled, standing up and holding the boy’s belt out. “You almost had me! Please make your way to the screening room!”

 

     He turned and dashed away before the boy could say anything else, and that’s how the rest of the testing went.

 

     He would sneak up on the students, take their belt before they could realize it, and added another tally to his name. The only thing mentionable was that Shinsou had gotten to Todoroki, making him pout, and that had gotten him slammed into the wall by tail boy, which his back did not like. He had still gotten the boy’s belt, and ran off, because the boy wouldn’t stop apologizing.

 

       “All students fail. Taggers, please make your way to the screening room.”

 

     Midoriya whistled as he stood, because there was still thirty  minutes on he clock, and they had gotten all eighteen students.

 

       “Toshi,” He said into the comm, and the boy hummed. “How many did you get?”

 

       I don’t know ,” the boy replied. “ But I’ll race you to the room.”

 

       “1, 2, 3, go!” Midoriya yelled in a rapid breath, ignoring Shinsou’s cry of outrage, and they both began running towards the stairs across the room.

 

     Midoriya came onto the last building’s roof by the stairs, and wondered if Hatsume’s shoes would work for seven stories.

 

      There’s only one way to find out.

 

       Izuku, NO !” He heard Shinsou shout, but he had already thrown himself off of the building, and it was a rush.

 

     He knew when most people were falling off of a building, their thought were usually a jumble of holy fucking shit no I’m gonna die fuck I never even kissed Todoroki—

 

     His thoughts were not like that. (Except for maybe the last part) He felt free when he was falling, no social standers telling him he’s worthless, no haters telling him he’s a skimpy bitch, no gravity to hold him down, nothing. He could just fall, and enjoy the feeling.

 

     But eventually, falling usually meant you were going to hit the ground. (Unless he was falling in space. That’s an idea—)

 

     He bent his knees as the ground approached, and as soon as they were touching the ground, he sprang forwards, launching himself diagonally across the ground where he could duck and roll to expel the seven stories of adrenaline. No pain in his legs, or sound from the fall, sweet. Hatsume’s babies work magic.

 

     As soon as his rolling speed was normal, he pushed himself to his feet and sprinted to the door. He heard Shinsou right on his heels, so he pushed himself faster, opening the door was what slowed him down the most.

 

     Once he got it open, he got one look at all of the stunned students before Shinsou tackled him, and he fell to the floor with a female screech.

 

       “Hey!” He cried, before snatching Shinsou’s leg when the boy got back up, sending him tumbling to the floor as he rocketed to his feet and jumped onto the wall, the tips of his shoes the same sticky substance as last time from when he tore them off from his fall.

 

       “Cheater.” Shinsou hissed, and Midoriya stuck his tongue out at him, although he action was lost behind his voice changer.

 

       “Are you two done?” Aizawa asked in his most done tone ever, and before Midoriya could laugh, he remembered to stay in uniform.

 

       “Are you asking me to stop or continue, Eraser?” He said sassily, crossing his arms as his feet stuck to the wall, and the man took a deep breath.

 

       “If you don’t listen to me, I ’ll expel you. You’re only here to—“

 

       “Keep talking,” Midoriya said, waving his hand dismissively, praying to everyone above that he would still have parents after this. “I yawn when I’m extremely interested.”

 

     Ingenium’s little brother gasped as if he had just cursed his grandmother in seven different languages. “You should never speak to a staff member like that! Apologize immediately!”

 

     Midoriya took a big breath, because Machiavellian was a shit to heroes, not children. He leaned back and kicked his feet off of the wall, using his hands to push himself away from it as he fell. Just because he wanted to, he did a tight back flip, landing in a completely silent crouch that made Aizawa’s eye twitch.

 

     He stood up and bowed down in front of Ingenium’s little brother. “I apologize for my rudeness, Iida-kun. I was not raised with adults, and I understand that I am uncultured. I hope you will find it in yourself to forgive me.”

 

     Midoriya only stood up straight once the boy had stammered out an acceptance, and he was back to his cheery self. “Alright! We’re watching the screening right?”

 

       “Yes,” Aizawa said simply, turning to the giant screen behind him.

 

      He turned on the monitor, and immediately ran through everyone’s fail, pointing out what they could’ve done better, and Midoriya cringed when Ojiro’s came on, the way he snatched the belt and ducked to the side, forgetting that the boy had a tail. The boy had whirled around, shocked, and his tail had smashed Midoriya into the wall, where he had collapsed to the floor, the wind knocked out of him.

 

     Instantly, Shinsou whirled around to him. “Are you okay?! Did you open your wounds again?! Is the bruising okay?! Did you rip your lungs again?! Is that why you didn’t get up?! Why didn’t you say anything?!” As he continued his momma bear rant, he had snatched Midoriya by the shoulders and was examining his stomach and back, spinning the exasperated boy in a slow circle.

 

       “T—Puppet I’m okay,” he said, sighing when he was completely ignored. He grabbed Shinsou’s head and shoved it into his side, ignoring the way the mask pressed against his stomach uncomfortably. “You can continue.” He said to Aizawa, who slowly turned back to the monitor to ask what Ojiro did wrong.

 

     Midoriya nodded his head along with whatever Aizawa was saying, and released Shinsou, because he really wasn’t paying attention. He could feel two pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head, one was curious, and the other was angry.

 

     He tilted his head and peeked out of his mask from he corner of his eyes. He scanned the students until he met red eyes.

 

     They were angry, simmering but not overly so, like Midoriya had wronged them, so it was justified. Bakugou Katsuki shouldn’t have that look, Machiavellian didn’t do anything to him. Bakugou shouldn’t stare at Machiavellian like he couldn’t believe she was there, like he was upset about something she did, like he knew something she didn—

 

     He froze, dread creeping up his stomach and twisting it into a dark chasm that made him cold sweat. A small smirk grew on Bakugou’s lips.

 

      Holy shit, please no. Fucking hell, no, no, no—

 

      “Machiavellian? What’s wrong?” Shinsou whispered, and Midoriya stiffly turned to face Aizawa wrapping up the lesson and dismissing them.

 

       “Bakugou knows.” He whispered, and Shinsou made a soft strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Bakugou knows.”

 

     When the entire class was making their way to the door to change back, Bakugou brushed right past Midoriya, his shoulder touching his, and he whispered,

 

       “Whenever you’re ready, Izuku, I’ll be waiting.”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

       “.....I think.... you should talk to him.”

 

       “I can’t do that!” Midoriya cried, lifting his head from his hands as he stared incredulously at Hatsume. “What would I say?!”

 

       “Well,” she said slowly, polishing her favorite monkey wrench. “You could start by saying ‘sorry’.”

 

       “Sorry,” He deadpanned. “Sorry.”

 

       “Well, yeah,” she tilted her wrench in the light, furrowing her eyebrows when she caught another smudge. “Y’know, for erasing his memory, and messing with his emotions.”

 

     Midoriya dropped his head onto the table, and groaned. “He could be the same, Mei-chan. What if he still wants to tell my mother?”

 

       “If he wanted to tell her, he would’ve,” she smiled at her wrench, before setting it back into her toolbox, a new one Shinsou had bought for her birthday. “He has known long enough to come to terms with your living, and vigilante status, along with accepting the fact that you altered his memories. If he wanted to tell your mother, he would’ve.”

 

     He felt her ruffle his hair, and he huffed. “I hate it when you’re smarter than me.”

 

     He heard her gasp. “So, you always hate me?!”

 

       “Mei-chan!” He cried, sitting up with a pout as the pinkette laughed. “You’re so mean!”

 

       “Don’t hate me because I’m right, Zu-chan.” She cooed, picking her box up and making her way to the new shelf in the base to put it away. “Now, you’ve been moping for... exactly six hours, so you can either man up and talk to him, or you can wuss out and hide here.”

 

     He stuck his tongue out at her, but she wiggled her fingers in his direction and slipped out of the back exit.

 

     Midoriya had shown up to the base because he had missed Hatsume when they were leaving, due to him and Shinsou being adopted. He had been freaking out after what Bakugou had said to him, and he needed to know what she thought he should do, before he could make up his mind.

 

     Shinsou had been extremely helpful. Midoriya had asked him what he thought he should do, and all he got was, “Kaminari... Denki....”

 

     Super helpful.

 

     Midoriya sighed again, before pushing himself out of the chair, his mind made up. It was late at night, so he would swing by Bakugou’s room and pray that he was sleeping.

 

     ...why did that sound creepy when Midoriya repeated it in his mind?

 

     He slipped his headphones over his ears and snatched his old uniform boots. They were dull and well worn, but the stickiness that kept him stuck to vertical walls worked just fine. He slid them on under his jeans and stood up, slipping into his civilian sweatshirt, thankful Hatsume had allowed him to start wearing normal clothing.

 

     He got out of the base and ran down to the train station, and when buying a ticket, he steeled his nerves, because he was really going to do this. He had already done it before, but he had banished it to the back of his mind to forget, forget that he had wiped his best friend’s memory.

 

     He got plenty of weird looks on the train, because it was late at night and he was short, young-looking, and sitting on the train with sound-canceling headphones. He ignored them all as he wondered what he was going to even say.

 

     How do you start a conversation with someone who’s bitter about you brainwashing them? How do you apologize to someone for wiping their memory clean? How do you talk to your old best friend who you had a falling out with? How do you even look at them?

 

     These thoughts were not helping him, but before he could lament over his misery, the train stopped at his station, and he was forced to get out of his seat and slip out of the doors.

 

     He took a deep breath, and looked around, at everything he had left behind at the age of nine. The nostalgia was hitting him just as hard as it did last time he was here, and he exhaled as he began walking, away from the train station and towards where he knew Bakugou  lived.

 

     Standing in front of the house, Midoriya really didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to knock on the door? Introduce himself as Bakugou’s friend? Aizawa Midori, or Midoriya Izuku?

 

     This should not be so hard.

 

     He felt his phone vibrate, and he pulled it out. It was a text from Hatsume, with an unknown number on the bottom.

 

     Or he could do that.

 

     He silenced his phone and slipped his phone into his pocket, making his way to the side of the house. When he was well into the shadows, he pulled the lining covering boots off, along with the gloves he had snatched.

 

     Once he was sure they would work, he darted to the side of the house, and jumped onto the building, his hands and feet sticking perfectly, and he let out a breath of relief. They still worked.

 

    Before he could jinx them, he crawled up the wall as quickly as he could, where he grabbed the roof and pulled himself all the way up, collapsing onto his back as he stared up at all the stars that were twinkling in the sky.

 

       “Here we go,” he muttered, and he pulled out his phone, not even bothering to sit up, and unlocked it, staring at the unknown number Hatsume sent him.

 

     With a deep breath, he pressed it, and it began ringing. He pressed it to his headphone ear as a phone below him began ringing.

 

       “Hello?” Bakugou said, a little hesitant, the sound of someone answering an unknown number.

 

       “...hey...” Midoriya practically whispered. Bakugou sucked in a breath, and exhaled it slowly.

 

       “You... are ready to talk?”

 

       “Not in the slightest, but here I am. I think you should open your window to let me in.”

 

     There was a silent pause, before he heard the boy get out of a chair, set the phone down, and then he was sliding the window open.

 

       “It’s open. When will you get here?”

 

       “Step aside.” He hung up, and waiting until he heard Bakugou step away from the window, and only when he did, did he secure his phone in his pocket and slip off the edge, swinging himself clean through the window.

 

     He heard Bakugou make a tiny squeaking sound, and he pushed himself to his feet, wiping off imaginary dust as he turned back to close the window.

 

       “I want to be mad at you,” Midoriya faltered, but succeeded in closing the window. When he turned around, Bakugou was staring into space, a broken expression on his face.

 

       “You made everyone believe you were dead. You made me believe  you were dead. Do you know... how painful it was to learn you never died? You just... ran away?”

 

       “That didn’t happen,” he snarled, and Bakugou flinched back when Midoriya advanced.

 

     He grabbed the taller boy’s arm and tossed him onto the bed, the startled look turning into one of confusion. Midoriya sat down heavily on the chair and adjusted his headphones, trying to calm himself.

 

       “...why do you wear those?”

 

     Midoriya sighed and dropped his hand, leaning his head back against the chair. “My eardrums will burst if I don’t.”

 

       “Oh....” Bakugou trailed off, awkwardness seeping into his form as Midoriya organized his thoughts.

 

       “What did... my mother,” he said slowly. “Say about me?”

 

       “Well,” Bakugou twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “She... said you didn’t make it out of the building, that Endeavor told her he found your ashes.”

 

       “That bitch!” Midoriya  snarled, before he slapped a hand against his mouth. He closed his eyes and prayed to every deity above that Bakugou’s parents didn’t hear that.

 

     He was in the clear.

 

     He removed his hand and looked into Bakugou’s shocked eyes.

 

       “She left me there, Bakugou. She walked away from me, she knew I  was there—“

 

       “No she didn’t!” Bakugou cried, and Midoriya felt his eye twitch in irritation. “She was so upset  when she found out—“

 

       “Bakugou,” he flinched. “Who was there? Me or you?”

 

       “...you.” Bakugou whispered, sinking back onto the bed.

 

     Midoriya nodded. “Don’t interrupt me.” At Bakugou’s nod, he continued.

 

       “She walked away. I watched my mother leave me for dead, Bakugou. If she really did love me, she would’ve told Endeavor that I was there, that I had ran in there to find her. She had shaken her head when Endeavor asked her if anyone else was in the building.” He looked up into Bakugou’s teary eyes.

 

       “She mourned me for fifty eight days, where you still cried at my grave six years later. How does that sound right? You, my childhood bully, mourned me longer than my own flesh and blood.” Bakugou cringed at the reminder, and Midoriya took a moment to realize just how much the boy had changed.

 

     He wasn’t brash or loud anymore, it almost seemed as if he had curled into himself, and needed more reassuring that he could be good. He wasn’t confident in himself, he seemed almost... meek? Midoriya wanted to laugh. It seemed like the almost switched personalities.

 

       “...I see why you... reacted the way you did.” He twisted his fingers into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I... won’t tell your mother.”

 

     Midoriya sagged with relief, not knowing he was so tensed up. “Thank you. How did you know who I was?”

 

     Bakugou was silent, before slowly shaking his head. “If you decide to erase my memory again, I’ll have that reminder to let me know that you’re still alive. If I give it to you, there’s no saying you won’t get rid of it along with my memory.”

 

     Midoriya felt grudging respect for the boy. Bakugou was smarter than he looked, and that was something he often forgot.

 

       “Smart.” He said, and Bakugou shifted, dropping his eyes to the floor. “What?”

 

       “Can.... can we....” Bakugou’s words kept trailing off, like he couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. They were soft, hesitant, and Midoriya couldn’t help but swell with hope.

 

       “Can we?”

 

       “...be friends?” Midoriya smiled softly, because this boy sitting in front of him was so different from the one he grew up with.

 

       “Yeah. We can be friends.”

 

     Midoriya knew he cried a lot, and if this was how Hatsume felt every time she had to comfort him, he promised himself he wouldn’t cry that often.

 

     He seriously didn’t know what to do. Shinsou usually just held him and let him cry, whispering words of comfort, but that was because they were best friends. Hell, they shared a bed because the trust was so strong. With Bakugou, he didn’t know what to do.

 

     He said to hell with it and he wrapped his arms around the boy, a little stiff due to his lack of knowledge.

 

     Bakugou sunk into his side as if he was a soft blanket, curling his arms around his waist and burying his face into Midoriya’s shoulder. To say Midoriya was shocked would be an understatement.

 

     It really sunk in. Bakugou had changed.

 

     There was a knock on the door, and Midoriya had a second to think shit, before the door was opening and Bakugou Masaru was sticking his head into the room.

 

       “Katsuki—“ the man cut himself off when he met Midoriya’s eyes, his eyebrows furrowing as he stepped further into the room. “Who are you?”

 

       “Uhh.... hi?” Ignoring the panic icing his veins and turning his stomach into a black pit, he was doing okay.

 

     What the hell is he supposed to say? He sure as hell wasn’t going to introduce himself as their best friend’s dead child, so he was just going to sit there awkwardly.

 

       “Katsuki,” Masaru said, and the boy sat up, wiping his eyes.

 

       “Sorry,” He whispered, and Masaru shifted at the boy’s tear-clogged voice. “He’s just comforting me.”

 

     Masaru glanced at Midoriya’s frozen figure, then back at his son. “About what?”

 

       “I’m gay.”

 

     Midoriya really couldn’t say he was shocked. He had seen a few people eyeing up Bakugou’s form during the review, but the boy only had eyes for a fellow red-eyed boy. He just wasn’t expecting the boy to come out in order to save his butt.

 

     Masaru blinked, before furrowing his eyebrows. “And?”

 

     Bakugou looked taken aback. “...and?”

 

       “That’s what you’re worried about?” Masaru smiled softly. “It’s okay. Just be yourself.”

 

     Midoriya was pissed. He was fucking pissed. He felt like punching through the wall and screaming off the top of his lungs, or setting Shinsou’s most hated song on repeat.

 

     Bakugou was a fucking pretty cryer. He still looked beautiful, what the fuck?! When Midoriya cried he looked hideous . He had snot running down his nose as his face turned red, but not Bakugou. What the actual hell. How was that fair?!

 

     Masaru walked into the room, and sat down by his pretty cryer of a son. Midoriya stood up, and awkwardly excused himself, feeling like he was intruding on an extremely personal matter.

 

       “You’ll c-come back right?”

 

     Midoriya paused by the door at Bakugou’s voice, and he sighed, before nodding. “I’ll see you around.”

 

     He closed the door behind him, and turned to stand face-to-face with Bakugou Mitsuki.

 

       “Who are you?”

 

        “...Bakugou’s friend. I have to go, I’m sorry for intruding.” He bowed at her shocked face and inwardly cried.

 

     He was running down the stairs and in the house with his outside shoes on. That went against everything he  had ever been taught.

 

     When he made it to the door, he slipped through it silently, and dashed away from what had almost been his utter doom.

 

     He was running for a bit, just trying to rid himself of the paranoia in his chest that said Bakugou would tell the world who he was, and slowed to a stop in a park.

 

     The park he and Bakugou used to play on as kids.

 

     Nostalgia slapped him hard in the face, and he smiled softly as he walked up to the playground, looking much smaller than he remembered it. He ran his fingers against the slide and tunnels, remembering all the games of Heroes and Villains, running around with Bakugou like nothing else mattered.

 

     If tears slid down Midoriya’s face, he ignored it. He pulled out his phone, and saw multiple missed calls from his parents, before one text message from Shinsou saying to hurry up, because Aizawa was three seconds from tracking him down.

 

     He chuckled, and wiped his eyes, telling himself it was just sweat.

 

     His phone lit up again, and he saw a new message on his screen. It was an unknown number. A little curious, because Hatsume made sure to check all of the unknown numbers for hackers and viruses, he clicked on it.

 

 

    Unknown Number

 

RE: Me

 

    The beginning of you.

 

 

     Midoriya’s heart stopped.

 

     Before he knew it, he was running, his phone clenched tightly in his hand as he sprinted away from the playground, tears making his vision blurry.

 

     He almost got his by three cars, but he ignored all of their honking and angry screaming as he dashed away. None of them had crashed, so he wasn’t worried.

 

     As he was running, he didn’t even need to wipe his eyes, his speed made the wind rid of the tears as they fell, like a windshield wiper.

 

     His chest was tightening, from his sprinting or lack of breathing, he didn’t know. It was a tight, cold feeling that gripped his chest and told him he was seconds away from passing out if he didnt breathe. He ignored it, the feeling in his chest making his head spin as tears and his lack of air swirled his vision around the corners, but he arrived at his destination.

 

     As he stumbled to a stop, he slipped on a puddle of what he prayed wasn’t blood, colliding with the ground and skinning his hands and cheeks, shredding his jeans.

 

     He shakily pushed himself to his hands and knees, and stared into the alleyway, feelings welling up in his chest as he gritted his teeth in an attempt to push them back.

 

       “This, right now, is the beginning of you. The new you.”

 

     Midoriya sobbed as he grabbed the wall and yanked himself to his feet, everything aching from his fall and sprinting. He was shaking as he wrapped his hands around his body, stumbling further into the alley as his nose stung and tears choked his throat.

 

       “When you’re older Squirt, I’ll tell you who I am.”

 

     He was sobbing hard as he walked further into the alley. His body was shaking from the adrenaline fading and the pain kicking in, but he ignored it as he cried, the air he was getting smelling like trash and stale blood. He was choking on said air and tears when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes.

 

     He whirled around, his eyes crinkling as a new wave of tears spilled from his eyes, his ears burning and nose red as the man stepped into the light.

 

     A barely-suppressed wail spilled from his mouth as the man opened his arms, and he was colliding with his chest in the nest second, curling his fingers into the black coat, burying his face into the white shirt. The smell of a campfire burning wafted up to his nose, and sent another broken wail clawing out of his throat.

 

       “Miss me, Squirt?”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

    Todoroki Touya. Todoroki Touya .

 

     Dabi had held Midoriya for a while as the younger boy’s body was wracked with sobs, his comforting presence just as he remembered it when he was younger.

 

     He had waited so long  for Dabi to contact him, every day was spent with a hopeful feeling only to be crushed when nothing happened. He had yearned for Dabi to contact him more than he had yearned to see his mother, and that was only apparent to him once his eyes were clear.

 

     Once Midoriya had been able to breathe properly, Dabi had picked him up like he used to when he was a child, and it sent him into another wave of tears. He had carried him to an apartment, Dabi’s apartment, and set him down on the bed, before leaving to get a first aid kid.

 

     Midoriya had curled into a ball on the bed, breathing in the scent of someone he had seen as an older brother, someone he had yearned to see again for almost six years.

 

     Dabi had always said that once Midoriya was ready, once he could handle himself, he would leave him to his own devices. At the ripe age of ten, Midoriya had told Dabi he could handle himself.

 

     If he knew it meant Dabi would completely disappear from his life, he would’ve never said he was ready. He would’ve stayed with Dabi and pretended it took him longer to understand things due to his quirkless state. He would’ve begged to stay with the boy, begged him to not leave him.

 

     But he didn’t. He had told Dabi he was old enough, and the boy had hugged him, said he’d tell Midoriya who he was when he was older, and he had left. Midoriya had spent so long trying to find him, but every time he was even close, Dabi would disappear of the radar, and Midoriya would be left to regret.

 

     Dabi had come back with the kit and began patching together Midoriya’s injuries with the same gentleness that nostalgia sent tears spilling onto his freshly bandaged cheeks. He had gotten Midoriya’s favorite sweatshirt, the one that was originally Dabi’s, and Midoriya had slipped into it, promising himself he wouldn’t give it back.

 

     Then he had sat down beside the sniffling boy, and said, “Todoroki Touya.”

 

    And that’s where they were now.

 

       “Todoroki?” Midoriya whispered, and Dabi hummed, laying down and crossing his arms behind his head.

 

       “Shocked?”

 

     Midoriya snuggled into the sweatshirt and inhaled deeply, cherishing the scent of a campfire. “A little... Your little brother—“

 

       “Shouto,” Dabi breathed, and Midoriya could hear the yearning pain in his voice. “He was so young, I don’t think he remembers me.”

 

       “...I could always ask him.”

 

     Dabi shot up and whipped around. “What?”

 

     Midoriya hummed softly. “We go to the same school. We’re in the same class.”

 

       “You... go to Yuuei?”

 

     Midoriya looked up to Dabi at the tone, and tilted his head. “Yeah? Why?”

 

     Dabi exhaled and sagged back down onto the bed. “I’ve... done some bad shit, squirt. Really bad shit.”

 

     Midoriya was up, alert in an instant. “Dabi, you’re not on drugs are you?!”

 

     Dabi choked on his breath, before it turned into a humorless laugh. “No, no. Much worse.”

 

     Midoriya paused, and thought, what would Dabi do to piss off his father? Dabi always had a major hatred for him, and only today did he learn that his father was the shitbag Endeavor. So, what would piss off Endeavor the mos—

 

     Midoriya sucked in a breath. “Dabi.... no.”

 

    Dabi’s face twisted. “I’m so sorry.”

 

       “No!” He cried, bolting up and turning to the older boy, dread pooling in his stomach. “Please, you’re lying!”

 

   Dabi’s eyes were sad, regretful, but they held no lies.

 

       “Why?” Tears were pooling in his eyes just like the dread in his stomach, and his heart was clenching in pain.

 

     Dabi, the only one who was there for him at his lowest, was a villain.

 

       “Izuku,” Dabi sighed, and reached out, but Midoriya stumbled back.

 

      He didn’t want to believe it, first his mother and now Dabi?  His heart wouldn’t be able to take it any longer. Pain flashed in the older boy’s eyes, but he dropped his hand.

 

       “I was so angry . I had fallen in deep, was drowning before I even realized what I was doing. There’s no way out for me anymore, I’m stuck. Stuck with people who enjoy what they’re doing.” He sighed, but looked up at Midoriya, his eyes holding no deceit, only the truth. “I promise you, I promise you , I will never hurt  you.”

 

     Midoriya felt a weird emotion drain everything else he had been feeling, and the urge to cry came crashing upon his chest like tidal waves, coming and going but always getting stronger.

 

     Fighting against a tide desperate to drag you under and drown you was useless.

 

     He was in Dabi’s arms again, tears spilling from his eyes and into his mouth, so he could taste his own sorrow, his own heartbreak. His mentor, someone he had trusted with his entire life was a villain.

 

     It hurt, it hurt so much more than his mother could’ve ever hurt him. It was a stinging pain that snatched his heart and wrapped it in metal wire, clenching and drawing blood every time his heart beat, letting him know that he would always be in pain.

 

       “I’ll never hurt you, ever , I swear on my life.” Dabi whispered again, and the wire clenched harder, tightening and squeezing more tears out. Dabi may be a villain, but what villain promises someone to never hurt them? Is he really a terrible villain, if he vows to never hurt Midoriya?

 

     Would he break that vow?

 

       “D-dabi,” Midoriya sniffed, and the boy hummed softly. Midoriya took comfort in the rumbling, it told him that Dabi was really here, in front of him. “Y’know, I think I like y-your brother.”

 

     Dabi choked, and began laughing, squeezing the smaller boy closer to his chest. “Okay squirt, I’ll show you how to woo the fuck outta’ a Todoroki.”

 

     Midoriya listened to Dabi talk, his voice riveting as it swirled around Midoriya’s ears, comforting in a way only someone you trusted could get. The rumbling in his chest soothing the pain in Midoriya’s heart as he relaxed, slowly going slack in the older boy’s arms.

 

     No matter how much he may trust everyone in his new family, no matter how safe he felt with them, nothing could  get him in Dabi’s arms.

 

 

 

       “Squirt. Hey, squirt, wake up, your phone is beeping.”

 

     Someone was shaking Midoriya, and he heard a familiar heartbeat pattern. For a split second, his brain thought he was nine and sleeping in a box beside that heartbeat.

 

       “Dabi~” He whined, before bolting upwards, awake. “Dabi?”

 

     The black haired boy smiled fondly, and slipped his headphones back over his ears. “Come on, your phone has been blowing up.”

 

     Midoriya gasped at the reminder, and snatched his phone, before paling.

 

     He had fifty four missed calls and twenty six missed text messages.

 

       “Oh gosh,” he whispered, and Dabi snickered.

 

       “I answered one, and the moment they heard my voice, they were threatening me for kidnapping you. I hung up, and that was almost an hour ago.”

 

       “Dabi!” He cried, before cursing and calling Yamada, hopefully the lesser of three evils.

 

       “Izuku?!”

 

     He inwardly cursed again. He did not mean to scare them.

 

       “Uh, yeah? Sorry.”

 

       “Oh my god! Where have you been?! Do you know how worried we’ve been?! Shota almost called the cops, Hitoshi thought the worst, we didn’t know what to do—“

 

       “I’m sorry.” He said meekly, sticking his tongue out at Dabi’s snickering. “I found someone... important to me.”

 

     Yamada paused, and Dabi turned away, his shoulders shaking from suppressed emotions.

 

       “If you’re dating someone, just tell us. Someone answered your phone earlier, is that your—“

 

       “No!” He cried, before gagging at the thought.

 

     He screeched when Dabi smacked him with a pillow. “Don’t hit me! I’ll dump hair remover in your hair dye!—“

 

       “I’ll burn your fuckin’ katsudon,” Dabi said back, and Midoriya muttered threats underneath his breath.

 

       “Izuku?”

 

       “I’m here! Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it won’t happen again.”

 

       “Who... was that?”

 

       “Remember Dabi?” Dabi whirled around to stare at him in shock. “Yes I told them about you, they need to know who I hold dear to me.”

 

     Dabi blinked, and that expression seemed to stay in place.

 

     Midoriya stuck his tongue out. “I’m with him. I, uh, fell asleep—“

 

       “On my chest like a fuckin’ cat.”

 

       “Shut up!” He screeched, and launched himself at the taller boy, both of them falling off of the bed with cries. “Stop snitching on me!”

 

       “You’re so heavy,” Dabi heaved, and Midoriya slapped him with a pillow.

 

       “Shut up. Suffocate on the pillow.”

 

       “What is happening?!”

 

       “I’m suffocating Dabi with a pillow!” Midoriya chirped, voice way too bright for someone admitting to murder.

 

       “I’m being suffocated with a pillow,” Dabi said sadly, as if he had no control over the situation.

 

       “I’m going to call your father, call your brother, he’s worried. I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

     He hung up the phone, and Midoriya sagged over onto Dabi’s chest. “I’m dead.”

 

     Dabi hummed thoughtfully. “That sounded like an adult. Why’s your brother scarier?”

 

       “Oh, ignorance is a bliss.” Midoriya whispered, before pulling up Shinsou’s contact.

 

       “...Izuku?”  His voice was soft, sounding like a child when they’re lost in a large mall, realizing that the cart they were following wasn’t their mother’s. The fear creeping up and tears right around the corner.

 

       “Yeah,” He whispered, and Shinsou broke down.

 

     It wasn’t often that Shinsou cried, but when he did it was usually a few quick tears, and he was done. It was never sobs, broken and choking, struggling to breathe.

 

       “You scared me!”  He cried, and Midoriya winced. “Y-you said you’re going t-to talk to Bakugou, t-the boy who wanted t-to tell your mother y-you’re alive, a-and then you j-just fucking disappear! What the fuck Izuku?!”

 

     Midoriya sat up, and rolled off of Dabi, the boy sitting up himself and removing the pillow from his face. He crossed his arms over his knees and tilted his head, watching the emotions flit over Midoriya’s face.

 

       “I’m sorry Hitoshi,” He whispered, and the boy sobbed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I fell asleep, my phone was muted. I’m so sorry.”

 

        “I hate you so much,”  the boy cried, and Midoriya winced. “Don’t do that  to me.”

 

       “I won’t, I’m sorry.” Midoriya said placatingly, and the boy told him to hurry up before hanging up.

 

     Dabi whistled. “I can see why you’re more scared of him. He’s fuckin’ deadly.”

 

       “Told you.” Midoriya muttered, before realizing the sweatshirt Dabi put on him was gone. He whipped around to scan the room, not spotting it. He turned back to Dabi. “Where’s the sweatshirt?”

 

     Dabi blinked. “Oh. I washed it.”

 

       “What?!” Midoriya cried, launching himself to his feet as Dabi held his hands up in surrender. “Why?!”

 

     Dabi looked confused. “Because it smelled?”

 

       “It smelled good! Dabi!” He whined, and Dabi stood to walk to the washer, where it pinged like a cue. He opened it and pulled out the wet sweatshirt.

 

    Midoriya felt his heart clench when he realized it would no longer smell like Dabi. That was one of the main reasons he kept stealing it from the boy when he was younger, he loved the way it smelled. It smelled like Dabi, and that always brought him comfort.

 

     Dabi rolled his eyes at Midoriya, and he jolted. He didn’t realized his emotions were so connected to his face. He pinned the hoodie up on a line and set his hand on fire, holding it around the sweatshirt so it would dry and smell like his flames.

 

     That was weird about Midoriya. He hated fire. Hated the way it looked and consumed, burning everything around it until the beautiful colors were blackened, charred beyond help.

 

     Dabi’s flame, although it was fire, never bothered him. It was a pretty, pretty blue color that smelled homey. It was a campfire smell, different from the smell of burning houses and flesh, burned corpses and bloody bodies, the screaming pain , screeching screaming burning bleeding fire—

 

       His face was pressed into Dabi’s side, and he blinked away the tears he didn’t realize were pooling in his eyes.

 

       “Don’t force it,” Dabi said, and the smell of his beautiful fire filled the room. “You’re traumatized Izuku, don’t force yourself to get over it. It’ll happen in your own time.”

 

       “But I love your flame,” Midoriya whispered, and felt Dabi ruffle his hair behind his headphone strap.

 

       “That doesn’t mean your brain is healed from what you went through. Give yourself time. Forcing it will only hurt you more.”

 

     Midoriya sighed, forgetting that Dabi could be such a mother hen sometimes, meaning he was almost always right. “Okay.”

 

       “There,” Dabi released his head and Midoriya shimmied his way between Dabi’s arms and his body, ignoring Dabi’s chuckle.

 

     He squealed happily and snatched the hoodie from the taller boy, hugging it to his chest as he relished the warm feeling and Dabi’s scent.

 

       “Thank you,” he said, his voice muffled from the sweatshirt. Dabi ruffled his hair, and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a small black box with intricate carvings.

 

       “I took this from you,” Dabi admitted. “It pains me every time I see it, so I’m giving it back to you.” He opened it, and Midoriya felt his heart clench.

 

     It was a necklace. Namely, the necklace Dabi had given him when he was nine.

 

     It had been Dabi’s mother’s, Rei’s necklace, and he had taken it before he ran away, leaving his mother with the promise that when she saw the necklace again, he would be right around the corner.

 

     Dabi hurt every time he had seen it, so he had given it to Midoriya. It was a quarter-sized white snowflake, diamonds encrusted into it to make it shine prettily. It hung on a slim gold chain, so it would never fall off.

 

     Midoriya reached out and grabbed it, pulling it out of the box and slipping it over his head.

 

     He had to be careful wearing this. All of the Todoroki’s knew about this necklace, because Rei had told them that if they ever saw that necklace, they had hope of getting away from Endeavor. If any of them saw it on Machiavellian, he didn’t even want to think about what would happen.

 

       “Anything else you took you wanna give back?” Midoriya chuckled wetly, and Dabi smiled fondly.

 

       “Don’t know how to give your happiness back, sorry.”

 

     Midoriya tapped his phone.

 

       “Keep in touch.”

 

     Dabi looked taken aback, and then conflicted, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed his coat and ruffled Midoriya’s hair.

 

       “Come on, I’ll walk you to the station.”

 

     In Dabi’s warm hoodie, his campfire scent wafting up to Midoriya’s nose, his necklace sitting on Midoriya’s chest, and Dabi himself walking by his side, Midoriya was happy.

 

     It didn’t matter that this man was a villain, that he had done some shady shit, because Midoriya was going to be a hero, and heroes saved people.

 

     Todoroki Touya was number one on his list.

 

 

Chapter Text

    

 

     Midoriya was grounded.

 

     He really didn’t mean to scare any of them, but they didn’t listen when he tried to say so. Something about why would they get him a phone if he wasn’t even going to use is properly. Even though HE bought the phone.

 

     Shinsou had even pitched in and given him an extra week to Aizawa’s two weeks and Yamada’s month. Like a little traitor! All he did was mute his phone and fall asleep! Why do they have to go and—

 

     Something slapped him upside the head.

 

       “Hey!” He whispered furiously, rubbing his head as he rolled over to face Shinsou. “What was that for?!”

 

       “You’re moping,” Shinsou muttered, burying his arm back into the blanket. “Like you don’t deserve your punishment.”

 

     Midoriya pouted, and rolled over, curling back into a ball.

 

     He had tried arguing his case, saying that it really wasn’t his fault, but it was lost on all ears. He had sat on the couch with a pout while everyone had agreed on a month and a half of grounding, like he wasn’t in the room. There was no getting out of it.

 

     He didn’t know how his grounding was supposed to work, considering they weren’t going to take his phone away, and he was still allowed to leave the house. Well, maybe not the last part, but if he snuck out by replacing himself with a warm water filled pillow by Shinsou when he was asleep, no one needed to know.

 

     Which was what he was currently waiting for. Shinsou needed to hurry up and fall asleep, because he was craving katsudon, and his parents had banned him from eating it, as a part of his punishment. Yes, sneaky Midoriya sneaking out to eat katsudon.

 

     After a good five minutes of laying still, Shinsou’s breathing evened out, and his heartbeat slowed down to the pace of someone in deep sleep. Midoriya shifted closer to the edge, and the boy didn’t react.

 

     He slowly began reaching down, under the bed, and prayed to every deity above that nothing would snatch his arm and drag him underneath. When he felt the warm pillow, he quickly yanked his arm back, because those monsters wait for nothing.

 

     He had filled it with hot water in the five minute gap that Aizawa and Yamada were away from home, and Shinsou was in the shower, and stashed it under the bed, cooling down to a body heat in time for him to replace himself with it.

 

     He swiftly rolled over and placed the pillow against Shinsou’s chest, before rolling off the bed and laying still, praying that Shinsou stayed asleep.

 

     He did.

 

     Midoriya let out a small breath, before he quietly snatched his sound canceling headphones and slipped them over his ears, pulling on Dabi’s sweatshirt and the necklace along with it, just because he didn’t want to part with them, now that he had them back.

 

     Aizawa and Yamada haven’t added locks to the windows, and that means they don’t believe that Midoriya would jump out of a three storied building to escape his prison.

 

     They obviously underestimated him. I mean, Machiavellian’s signature move is jumping off of buildings and disappearing.

 

     He had his old pair of Machiavellian boots, and he slipped them on over his leggings, securing them before silently sliding the window open. A gush of cool air came into the room, and Shinsou shifted, but didn’t wake.

 

     He slowly climbed out of the window, keeping his body close to the wall, and he and closed the window behind him, leaving a crack just big enough for his fingers to slip through when he came back.

 

     He turned, holding the sill, and looked down to the floor, but he no longer felt fear facing long falls. He scanned the area to make sure no one was out, before he let go of the sill and he dropped three stories.

 

     He jumped out of his own skin when his landing made a low thud sound , and his heart began racing. He stilled with a hand over his heart, making sure no one else had heard it. Apparently the sound absorbing heels malfunction with time and use.

 

     He stood and brushed imaginary dust off of his sweatshirt, casting one more look at the window, before dashing off towards the nearest fast food court, hoping at least one of them sold katsudon.

 

     Five minutes later, he found one, but it was thirty minutes from closing time, so he had to beg for it to be ordered to go. As soon as he was done paying, he snatched his food, said his thanks and made his way outside, where he sat at one of the empty tables and dug in.

 

     Ahh, how he had missed katsudon. This was probably cheating in his grounding, or whatever it’s called when you do something you’re not supposed to, but no one told him the rules, so he was just abusing his lack of knowledge.

 

     When he was done inhaling his food, he chugged the water and stood, collecting his trash and throwing it away. He looked around like the paranoid child he was, before he flipped up his hood and began his way back home. The sky was dark, and anytime someone wanted to approach him, for whatever shady reason adults approach minors at night, he would glare at them, or bare his teeth, and they would run away.

 

     He was almost halfway to his apartment, when someone’s footsteps matched his and he was alert. Those footsteps sped up, and just before he was getting ready to run, his sweatshirt was snatched, and a man said,

 

       “Touya?”

 

     Fucking shit.

 

     This must be the brother, the one Midoriya kinda-not-really met when he got shot, but in his second of panic, the name slipped his mind.

 

     He lowered himself to the ground, before jolting, spinning to lose the man’s grip, and he took off, sprinting as fast as he could in his malfunctioning boots. He heard the man start, before giving chase.

 

       “Touya?! Why are you running?!”

 

      Because I’m not Touya hahaha, fuck, please go away .

 

     He slid into one of the alleyways and scanned everything in it, before jumping onto one of the trashcans, swiftly climbing onto the fire exit and running up the stairs until he was on the roof, where he crouched low and stifled his heavy breathing. Running after eating was a big no-no, he would have to remember.

 

     Midoriya heard the man stumble into the alleyway, before he loudly cursed, obviously irritated in himself for losing who he thought was his brother.

 

     Midoriya winced, and realized he probably shouldn’t wear Dabi’s sweatshirt so often, especially since it seemed Dabi wore it with his siblings, often enough that they would recognize it on sight.

 

     He shook his head and stood when he was sure the man was gone, turning around and running away, jumping roof to roof as he came back to his apartment.

 

     He was so, so lucky  as he slipped back into the window, because Shinsou was still sleeping, meaning the pillow worked like a charm. Score one for the cross-dresser.

 

     He put his old boots back under the bed and slipped his headphones off, before taking Dabi’s sweatshirt off, folding it and placing it back from where he took it.

 

     When they were still deciding on his punishment, Aizawa had made to take it away, but Midoriya had snatched it back, saying Aizawa could take anything but the sweatshirt. Aizawa had said the punishments take away what you cherish most, as a way to make you regret what you did, and he had cried, thrashed against Shinsou, screaming that he’d hate all of them if they took it away, that he’d never forgive them, and Aizawa had slowly given it back, where he had curled around it and cried.

 

     He had just got  Dabi’s sweatshirt back, just got back something that was taken from him when he was young. Now that he had it back, it was his reminder, that Dabi was still alive and in need of saving.

 

     Midoriya was glad they promised to never take it, because that means he could wear it and be reminding of Dabi, but it seemed he needed to be more careful whenever he put it on. Now that he was calm, he could remember that the brother’s name was Natsuo, and he recognized the sweatshirt on sight. Would that mean the sister, Fuyumi, and Shouto would remember it?

 

     He decided to deal with it when the problem arose.

 

     Midoriya slipped back into the bed, and removed the water pillow and chucking it underneath the bed, before snuggling into his brother’s arms as he fell asleep, comforted by his heartbeat and the faint smell of Dabi’s flame.

 

 

 

     The next day, Hatsume felt a little bad about getting him in trouble, before he showed her his necklace, and she was squealing.

 

     He had told Hatsume about the necklace, back when they were younger and fresh into vigilantism, and had begged her to be on the lookout for it. She had promised, but all throughout these years, Dabi stayed under the radar.

 

     But now that it was sitting on his chest, in it’s rightful place, he felt nothing but joy. Joy that something he had cherished was back in his hands, his to love and care for.

 

     He also felt a challenge. He had to keep Todoroki from seeing it, all Todoroki’s, else they track Midoriya down and demand for answers. At least, until he and Dabi have enough evidence to take Endeavor down.

 

     Midoriya looked up, his straightened hair slipping into his eyes as he blinked at the door. He had been staring off into space, but had become alert when he heard someone walking towards the door. He normally couldn’t hear Aizawa with his earbuds in, because the man was silent on his feet, so who was coming?

 

       “Machiavellian?” Someone said. “What’s wrong?”

 

     He hissed when the footsteps got louder, already knowing who it was, and the entire class turned to look at the door when it was flung open.

 

       “I am... coming through the door like a normal person!” All Might shouted, and the entire class was suddenly on their feet, shouting at each other in shock and awe as the number one hero took his place in front of the class.

 

     All Might went on about something or another, but Midoriya was staring into space, in his own world while Shinsou had his hand on his seat, leaning over his desk as casually as he could.

 

     Midoriya wanted to laugh.

 

     All Might had said he didn’t think Midoirya could be a hero, and repeated it when he found out Midoriya was a hero’s child, as if being quirkless was his demise, something he could never go past. And yet, here he was, sitting in All Might’s class, one of the most talented students, and the man doesn’t even know it.

 

     Machiavellian meant cunning, scheming, and unscrupulous, especially in advancing in one’s career. Honestly, right now, sliding underneath All Might’s radar, he felt like that was pretty freaking on point.

 

     Suddenly, small compartments holding the student’s costumes slid out of the wall, jerking Midoriya back to the real world as all of the students began clambering over each other in order to get there first.

 

       “Oh yeah! Machiavellian, Puppeteer, you can either help the students with their gear or follow me!”

 

    Midoriya cringed at his loudness, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and turned to Shinsou. “You follow him, and when the students are done dressing, I’ll lead them to the grounds, that way no one’s late.”

 

     Shinsou paused, uneasiness written in his black and pink eyes, before he shook his head. “No.”

 

      Midoriya reached over and placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, looking into eyes that almost matched his. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll see me once they finish dressing, okay? I’m not going to disappear.”

 

     Shinsou stared into his eyes, before slowly nodding, and he pushed himself out of his seat. “Don’t leave.”

 

     At Midoriya’s nod, Shinsou walked towards the door and left the room, Ashido turning around to watch him go with a lovesick look.

 

       “He’s so dreamy ,” she sighed, falling into the invisible girl with a sigh, clutching her case to her chest as the girl giggled.

 

       “All he did was walk,” Satou said, sounding confused, and Ashido was on her feet pointing at him in an instant.

 

       “Exactly! And you could see the grace in his movements! He’s so beautiful .”

 

     Midoriya giggled, and the class turned to him when he pushed himself up and made his way to the door. “He’s also hella gay. Good luck with that one, Ashido-san.”

 

     He glanced at the class’s shocked expression and laughed, before motioning towards himself. “Come on! I need to take you to the locker rooms so you can change.”

 

      He was so lucky  he could fit through the vents, because he could hear both of the locker room’s conversations at the same time, and monitor the rumors going around. Not in a creepy or perverted way, but he couldn’t help either of them if they needed help.

 

     The men would freak if he came into the lockers, and he would  freak if the girls dragged him into their lockers, so hiding in the vents seemed ideal to him.

 

     He told them to wait outside of the lockers when they were done, and he was most interested in Bakugou’s conversation with... Kirishima. He needed to get these names down, he couldn’t just call all of them by nicknames... or could he?

 

     When the last person finally exited the locker room, almost ten minutes later, he shimmied his way out of the vent, and listened to them tittering in confusion, not seeing him anywhere.

 

     He had crawled into the vent backwards, so he pushed the opening out with his hands, and the entire class jumped when the metal lid clattered to the floor.

 

       “Oops,” he giggled, before sliding smoothly out of the vent like a snake, high above the student’s heads, and their confused shock amused him.

 

     Hatsume had added the sticky substance if he pressed his brooch twice, it would slide out of his shoe like a hidden compartment and come forwards to help him stick.

 

     So, he climbed down the wall slowly and jerkily, like something out of a horror movie. Did he do that on purpose? Yes, yes he did.

 

     Once his feet were on the floor, after he crawled his way out, he stood and he pressed his brooch twice before turning to the students.

 

       “Ready?” He asked, and all of them opened their mouths to bombard him with questions, but he wasn’t in the mood, so he turned on his heel and dashed away.

 

     That, and Todoroki Shouto’s eyes had been drawn to something shiny sitting on his chest. It seems as though he was always on the lookout for Rei’s necklace, and Midoriya felt joy when he realized this would be a real challenge for him.

 

     He already had proof on Endeavor’s child abuse, and he knew he could get Touya and Rei to stand up against him, the rest would follow suit. He would have to speak with Tsukauchi soon, to start a case on the number two hero, so they could get out of his abusive clutches.

 

       As soon as he came out of the tunnel, he was tacked to the ground by Shinsou, and he squawked when he was picked up and tossed over a shoulder.

 

        “There’s no way they’re not dating.” Someone whispered from the mass of students behind him, and there were several rounds of agreement.

 

     All Might went on to tell them about the exercise and teams and yadda yadda, but Midoriya had only one question.

 

       “How long do you have to be tied up in order to be out?”

 

     All Might shifted. “Uh, five seconds?”

 

     All of the students began whining about how that was such a short amount of time, but Midoriya bared his teeth, although no one could see it. Five seconds was all he  needed.

 

     They started the exercise, and everyone stood in the viewing room to see everyone’s strategies in the making, instead of just wether they fail or not.

 

     Midoriya couldn’t bring himself to watch, so he was standing towards the wall with his back facing the screen. Shinsou was beside him, facing the same problem, and they comforted each other.

 

     The students, yeah they were young, but they made so many mistakes, mistakes that would get you killed in the real world.

 

     He couldn’t watch Jirou close her eyes whenever she listened for her opponents, or the way Yaoyorozu put trap after trap up instead of working against her opponent’s quirks, the way Ashido and Aoyama freely use their quirks without thought of hurting possible civilians, the way everyone came through the front door, as if they didn’t think that villains wouldn’t drop a bomb on them as soon as they step through, everything.

 

     All of them spoke loudly, arguing as they searched the buildings, and they split up when they needed to stick together, and stayed together when they needed to split up.

 

     Midoriya realized now why Nezu wanted them to attend in uniform. These innocent students have not yet been introduced to the horrors that laid in the profession they wanted to learn, and it was up to Shinsou and him to show them the ropes.

 

     It was painful, to be reminded that that was how he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be carefree and mistake prone, he wasn’t supposed to know how to survive on the streets, or how to pickpocket in order to survive, how much someone can bleed from a certain spot before death, or how much—

 

     He was up. Thank god he was partnered with Shinsou.

 

     Except their opponents were Bakugou and Todoroki.

 

     Fun .

 

       “What’s your plan?” Shinsou asked when they were standing outside the building, the floor plan already memorized. Midoriya had been pacing, and Shinsou was staring at the building, trying to see if he could play the layout in his head.

 

       “I don’t know,” Midoriya said, burying his hands in his hair. “They both have fire quirks— so I’ll just— I don’t know, To— Puppet what am I supposed to do? I can’t just— I mean I could— since Dabi— but then what— his is red, red like blood— bleeding, choking—“

 

     Shinsou was suddenly in front of him, his forehead pressed to his as he took a deep breath, and Midoriya instinctively copied him.

 

       “How about this,” he said softly, breathing syncing with Midoriya’s. “You’ll go in from above and find the bomb, and I’ll go in and deal with them?”

 

     Midoriya took a deep breath. “I can handle Todoroki. He won’t use his flames. You’re going to have to take Bakugou.”

 

     Shinsou stared into his eyes, and the horn blowed behind them, telling them the exercise had started, but they both ignored it. It was best to give the students a bit of time, before they swooped in and won. “Are you sure?”

 

     Midoriya nodded, and Shinsou exhaled. “Okay, try not to be Machiavellian too much, otherwise you’ll kill them.”

 

     Midoriya nodded again, and they both took off towards the building, Midoriya slowing a bit so when he jumped on the wall, it wouldn’t shock him so much.

 

     Midoriya pressed his brooch twice and jumped onto the wall, while Shinsou ran straight into the building, his footseps silent. He and Shinsou could run extremely fast, so he didn’t even know how many floors the boy had cleared while Midoriya only got up one.

 

       “I’m not moving. Tell me what you hear.”  Puppeteer said over their comm, who knows how many floors up, and Midoriya crinkled his nose at the quality. Hatsume’s sounded like the person was right beside you, not that they were three feet away talking through a phone.

 

     He would bow down at Daedalus’s feet and praise her for her excellent quality when he got back, because he really took her technology for granted.

 

     He reached up and pulled his earbud out, and suddenly he could hear one person running on the fifth floor, another person breathing lightly but not moving, and the other person standing still, but the sound of—

 

       “Someone’s running through the halls, heavy footsteps so heavy gear? I think that’s Bakugou, but Todoroki is guarding the bomb and it sounds like he’s getting ready to freeze the building. Get ready to jump over it.”

 

       “Alright.”

 

     Midoriya put his earbud back in and quickly scaled the building in record time, shoving himself up into the air as ice quickly froze over the place he had been crawling up.

 

     He landed in a silent crouch and felt the adrenaline rush through his system, because he was only thinking of getting the bomb. He took a deep breath, because this was a simulation and he was against children, not trained villains.

 

     Despite his calming down, he was hyperaware of everything around him, and could see the camera in the corner of the roof, pulsating colors like a rainbow vomiting. Midoriya bared his teeth as the adrenaline made him feel alive, and he pressed his hands to the concrete, where small vibrations traveled through the ice. Someone was right below him.

 

     He grinned and stood, pressing his comm. “I’m jumping in, three when you’re in place.”

 

       “Three.”

 

     Midoriya put himself in a runner’s start position, and said, “Two.”

 

       One !” They shouted together, and Midoriya took off towards the edge, and he slid last moment, snatching the edge of the building and using his momentum to throw himself towards the window, where he clicked his heels together and braced himself for impact.

 

     He shattered through the window, sending ice flying everywhere, and making the two ‘villains’ in the room duck to cover their heads. He landed in a loud crouch, thank you knifes, before throwing himself at the bomb.

 

     As soon as his hand touched it, All Might’s voice rang over the speakers, “Hero Team Wins!”

 

       “Whoo!” Midoriya said, standing up straight before squeaking as his heel got caught in the metal, and he crashed down to the floor.

 

       “Ha!” Shinsou cried, and Bakugou shook his head, looking majorly confused. “Sorry buddy, controlled you for a second there.”

 

       “It’s... over?” He asked slowly, and Midoriya cringed. Bakugou might not take lightly to being under Shinsou’s control again. Thankfully, the boy seemed more out of it than angry.

 

       “Yeah,” Midoriya said, clicking his heels together and the knifes retracted into his shoes. “Sorry about that, we didn’t want to swoop in a kill you, so we have you a bit of time to formate a plan.”

 

     That was a lie, they kind of just winged it, which could’ve been their downfall if they were too cocky, but it seemed like it worked out to Midoriya. They did win, after all.

 

     Todoroki’s hands were clenched, and he slowly turned to face Midoriya, anger in his features. “That wasn’t time, you came in and beat us.”

 

     Midoriya shifted, turning to face Shinsou’s guilty face. “Oops.”

 

       “Please come back to the room, we need to continue the exercise.”

 

     Midoriya got the strongest urge to flip off the camera that was sitting in the corner of the room, but then his dad would be disappointed in him, flipping off the number one hero on camera ? Nope, you gotta do that where there’s no evidence.

 

       “Alright, we’re coming.” He deadpanned, waving the camera in a shoo-shoo motion.

 

     He turned and skipped his way to Shinsou, ignoring the two students behind him, before grabbing his arm and he leaning in close.

 

       “Race you.” He took off immediately after that, ignoring Shinsou’s indignant screech, and he laughed.

 

     He made it this close to being first, but he tripped on the heel and met the ground hard, his ankle twisting in a very painful way. Shinsou was the first one into the room, but he turned around to come back for Midoriya.

 

       “I’m injured,” he moaned, placing the back of his hand on his forehead like a damsel, and Shinsou scoffed, ignoring the student’s incredulous stares.

 

       “You’ll live.” He said flippantly, and placed Midoriya on the ground, where he kneeled and pressed his fingers to Midoriya’s ankle.

 

       “Ow!” Midoriya jerked his leg out of Shinsou’s touch, and the boy rolled his eyes, standing up.

 

       “You probably just sprained it, you’ll be fine.”

 

     Midoriya sighed heavily, and leaned back, crossing his hands over his chest as he closed his eyes. “This is it for Machiavellian, vigilante of six years, she shall be missed.”

 

     Shinsou snorted and sat down, putting his ankle in his lap as he slowly began taking his boot off. Shinsou hissed at Midoriya’s darkening ankle and waved Todoroki over.

 

       “C’mere Fullbuster, I need your ice.”

 

    Midoriya snorted, and Todoroki confusedly walked over, holding his right hand out as he created an icicle.

 

       “Fullbuster?”

 

     Shinsou shook his head, but amusement was coming off of him in waves.

 

       “If we may continue with the exercise.” All Might coughed into his hand, and Midoriya rolled his head to the side to face him with much difficulty, due to his mask.

 

       “Everyone’s done. What could possibly be left?”

 

     All Might shifted and pointed to the monitor. “What you did wrong.”

 

       “Tell me what I did wrong.” Midoriya cooed, and the class shifted uneasily, his tone not matching the words he was saying.

 

       “Well, for one, you broke the window—“

 

       “Aoyama and Ashido destroyed the pillars and building with their quirks, and you’re going to lecture me on a window?”

 

     All Might paused, like he didn’t understand why Midoriya would just sit there and listen like  the rest of the students.

 

       “You sent ice shards everywhere, and it could’ve hurt the villains and host—“

 

       “If we were up against real villains, I would’ve just gone in there and knocked them out without being flashy. I wouldn’t have worried about hurting them, or damaging property.” Midoriya tilted his head to the side. “I could hear into the room, and I didn’t hear any hostages or robots pretending to be hostages.”

 

     All Might seemed to be getting more and more irritated, his smile becoming strained. “You can’t—“

 

       “Go ahead!” Midoriya yelled, trying to get to his feet again, and the entire class stepped away. “Tell me I can’t be a hero! Say it! You had no problem—“

 

    Shinsou slapped a hand on his voice changer and switched it off, forcing Midoriya to stop his rant. “That’s enough.”

 

     He picked the shaking boy up and turned away. “I’m taking h-her to Recovery Girl, continue your lesson.”

 

     Shinsou carried Midoriya away from all of the shocked occupants in the room, and the door slammed shut behind them.

 

       “Well,” Kirishima said uneasily. “Something major just went over our heads.”

 

    All of the students agreed, but All Might was staring at the floor in stunned silence. He had only told one person they couldn’t be a hero, and that was the Aizawa boy, the son of Eraserhead. Why would Machiavellian—

 

     Voice changer, voice. Heels, height. Mask, face. Wrappings, gun wounds. Contacts, eyes. Earbuds, sound.

 

     Machiavellian was Eraserhead’s child. Eraserhead had a vigilante for a child. The only question was, what gender was Machiavellian?

 

       “I think she had a really pretty necklace, kero,”  Tsuyu said, pressing her finger against her chin. “It looked expensive.”

 

       “She had a necklace?” Hagakure asked, her gloves saying she was bouncing up and down in excitement. “Do you think it turns into a really cool weapon?”

 

       “That’s a good question,” Uraraka hummed. “I’m didn’t actually get to see what it was.”

 

       “Oh!” Yaoyorozu chimed in. “It looked like a snowflake!”

 

     Todoroki tensed, and stared at the girls from the corner of his eyes.

 

       “Really?” Ashido asked, leaning into their small circle. “How can a snowflake look expensive?”

 

       “It sparkled like a diamond.” Tsuyu croaked. “So, it must’ve been expensive, kero.”

 

       “Oooo,” Uraraka said singsongy. “Do you think Puppeteer gave it to her?”

 

       “No!” Ashido cried, falling back into Jirou. “He can’t! Not my Puppeteer!”

 

       “You’re so weird ,” Jirou said, gently pushing the girl off of her.

 

     As the girls continued making guesses on who have Machiavellian the necklace, Todoroki stared down at the ground like he could burn through it with his eyes.

 

     He had seen a necklace on Machiavellian, but she had moved away before he could get a good look at it. He knew what his mother’s necklace looks like, because Natsuo had showed him a picture of it, and told him to be on guard for it. He didn’t know why it was so important to his siblings and mother, but they said if it’s seen, they had hope.

 

     If Machiavellian had his mother’s necklace, the one she was waiting for, how was that supposed to help them? What was it supposed to do?

 

     He shook his head. It’s probably not even her necklace. Snowflake necklaces aren’t that rare, so he doesn’t know why he’s overthinking it.

 

     Still, a small part of Todoroki said he needed to be sure, be sure that Machiavellian’s necklace wasn’t his mother’s.

 

 

Chapter Text

  

 

       “You don’t suppose something bad is going to happen?” Hatsume asked, sliding Midoriya’s boots off as the boy sighed heavily.

 

     He had maybe-sorta snuck out again, but it was completely justified this time. He had had energy rushing through his system, the kind that you usually get when you chug coffee and energy drinks, so he had to get rid of it somehow.

 

     He decided for a normal patrol, and he had found nothing. No criminal activity, no villains rampaging around, drug trafficking, nothing.

 

     This would be even a little suspicious if it happened just one day, but he had been seeing nothing for the past week. The streets had been silent, even the normal drunks hadn’t showed up to their usual bars.

 

     Did that mean Midoriya had been sneaking out for an entire week? Yes, yes it did. What, you gonna snitch on him? (Actually please don’t, Yamada would have his head served on a silver platter)

 

       “I’m really hoping not, really, really hoping not. Especially because of that field trip coming up, the one All Might’s supposed to go to? You don’t think Kiki’s up to no good, do you?”

 

 

     Hatsume chuckled, before shaking her head. “No, Shigaraki hasn’t had any appearances since you kicked his ass a few years back. Why would he act now?”

 

     Midoriya crossed his arms, before slumping to the floor for Hatsume to get him out of the top. “I don’t know, it’s just kinda weird, don’t you think? He claims he’s the hot stuff, but if he was, why would he disappear off the radar?”

 

     Hatsume hummed as she tugged the top off, and Midoriya hissed until it was off of his head. “Pride? You handed him his ass, anyone would run away with their tails between their legs.”

 

     Midoriya shrugged, and stood to pull his pants off, “I guess you’re right. I just think it’s kind of weird. Kiki did say he would be back.”

 

     Hatsume snorted as she put his boots and gloves back on the stand, the top and mask already in place. “Stop calling him Kiki, it’s weird.”

 

     Midoriya gasped, and slipped on his normal basketball on. “Never! It works! Shigara-ki. Kiki. It’s perfect.”

 

     Hatsume shook her head amusedly, and finished putting his uniform on it’s stand as he pulled his contacts out, demonstrating just how vast his colorful language was.

 

     After he had put the case in Hatsume’s hand, he bade her goodbye, and slipped out of the base, swiftly making his way back to the apartment.

 

    He had to stand by the wall before he could scale it, because stupid passerby’s would probably call the cops for illegal quirk usage, even though he’s quirkless.

 

     As soon as they were gone, and he was sure they were gone, he turned and climbed up the wall like the gecko Hatsume said he was.

 

      God, I need to be something other than a gecko. Gecko-Man to the rescue? Hell no. If only Spider-Man wasn’t taken.

 

     He pulled open the window and slid through, closing it behind him. He then kneeled down to put the covering over the sticky substance, but the light switched on and he looked up in shock, the perfect example of a deer in headlights.

 

     Aizawa crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. “Sneaking out?”

 

     Midoriya rocketed to his feet, and Shinsou jerked out of the bed, looking just as startled as Midoriya.

 

       “Whas’ happenin’?” He slurred, voice scratchy with sleep as he stood slowly and wiped his eyes with a yawn.

 

     Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Your brother snuck out.”

 

     Shinsou hummed, before slumping over onto Midoriya, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder, his body still warm from sleep. “Sneakin’ out when you’re grounded is a no-no, sweetheart. Itssa’ big rule.”

 

       “Really?” Midoriya asked, promising himself that he would treat Shinsou to coffee for a whole week because he’s playing along. “Why?”

 

       “Leavin’ issa’ privilege,” Shinsou hummed, sounding like he was closer and closer to falling asleep standing.

 

       “Wait,” Aizawa said incredulously, uncrossing his arms as he stared at his son. “You don’t know how grounding works?”

 

       “Uhh, no? You said I was grounded and that I couldn’t eat katsudon? I didn’t know there were other rules.”

 

      White lies are okay, Midoriya told himself on a repeated mantra, only when it’s saving your skin .

 

     Aizawa shook his head and pitched the bridge of his nose, and Midoriya could almost hear him praying for patience.

 

       “Never mind, we’ll discuss it more tomorrow. Goodnight boys.”

 

     He turned and switched the light off, closing the door behind him and leaving the two boys standing in the middle of their room.

 

       “You owe me big time,” Shinsou whispered, and Midoriya nodded.

 

       “Thank you for saving me.” Midoriya whispered back, and muffled a squeak when Shinsou fell back onto the bed.

 

        “You’re buying me coffee at that expensive café until you’ve repaid your debt.”

 

     Midoriya chuckled and kicked off his boots, setting his headphones on the nightstand before slipping under the blankets, Shinsou’s chest acting like a personal heater. He was asleep in no time.

 

 

 

       “You wanna tell me where you were last night?” Shinsou asked as they walked back to the classroom with their food.

 

       “Normal patrolling.” He held up a hand at Shinsou’s hiss. “The weird thing is, there was no activity. No villains, criminals, even drunkards. It was completely silent, for a whole week.” He pulled open the door and slid in, Shinsou darting in after him in shock.

 

       “You snuck out for a whole week?—“

 

     Midoriya shushed him and sat down in his seat, turning it around to place his food and an extra serving on Shinsou’s table. “Yes. And there’s nothing. I think Kiki’s back at it.”

 

     Shinsou scoffed, sitting in his own chair with katsudon, and they swapped plates. Shinsou only got katsudon to switch with Midoriya, and they didn’t say anything to their parents, especially since Midoriya was bribing Shinsou every day with expensive coffee and free kitten cuddles. Well, free for Shinsou, everything came from Midoriya’s pocket.

 

     Shinsou removed his changer with another scoff, his voice back to it’s normal pitch.

 

       “Shigaraki was a lowlife villain who just so happened to be friends with someone who had a Warp Quirk. Why would he come back?”

 

     Midoriya shook his head, pulling his own changer off. “I’m telling you, Kiki was more than  a lowlife nobody.”

 

     Shinsou snorted into his orange juice. “You sound like a girl whining about a break up.”

 

     Midoriya stuck his tongue out, before the door was slammed open, and they both whirled around on high alert, relaxing when they both recognized Hatsume’s uniform.

 

       “I am dead on my feet,” she whined, snatching a random chair and rolling it up to their table, before collapsing onto it.

 

     Midoriya pushed the extra serving he had toward her, and she accepted it with a grateful nod, pulling her voice changer off and setting it beside the other two.

 

       “Are you not allowed to sit down during class?” Shinsou asked, Midoriya scarfing down his Katsudon.

 

     Hatsume hummed and snapped her chopsticks in half. “We can, but everyone needs help with everything, they just won’t admit it.  It’s super irritating.”

 

       “Sounds like someone I know,” Midoriya playfully murmured into his food, laughing when Hatsume reached out and slapped his arm.

 

       “Jerk,” she hissed, and Midoriya stuck his tongue out at her.

 

       “Be nice,” Shinsou chuckled, before an alarm rang out, making all three of them cringe at the blaring noise.

 

       “Security Breach Three. All students please exit the facility calmly and in orderly fashion.”

 

     All three of them were out of their seats in an instant, incredulously staring at each other before they ran out into the halls, dashing towards the lunch area where all of the students were.

 

     They came into the hallway, and were immediately smashed into the horde of students scrambling to leave the premises, separating the three of them.

 

       “Machiavellian!”

 

     Midoriya whirled around, which was a struggle amidst the mass of students, and met Uraraka’s bewildered eyes.

 

       “What the hell is going on?!” He cried, voice loud to carry towards her, and she looked startled. “What?!”

 

       “Your voice...”

 

     Midoriya slapped a hand over his mouth with wide eyes. That’s right. He took his changer off to eat before the school alarm went off.

 

     He felt his ankle give out, and he shrieked, because in the next second he was on the floor, covering his head with one arm and his organs with the other, curling into a ball as he was trampled.

 

     The pain was there, jabbing and hot, but he could easily push it away, ignore it. The students weren’t really moving, so they were mostly just standing on him, stepping occasionally, the loud clamor more distracting as he shifted his head to make sure no one stepped on it.

 

     Buried underneath all of these students, his panic started as a small burning discomfort in his chest, welling up bigger and bigger until the urge to cry was pounding against his scull. He curled smaller, and muffled his cry as someone stepped on his ankle, twisting it painfully.

 

     His instincts to get away was screaming at him, telling him to run or else he’d die, and frustration was welling up along with it, because he couldn’t move. His brain was screaming, his body shaking as adrenaline and fear turned his veins to burning stone. His lungs were heavy, struggling to get oxygen as everyone closed in, and the air was hot and thick with the smell of fear.

 

     Tears welled up in his eyes as his straightened hair was stepped on, sending jolts it burning pain to his head, and it throbbed in synchronization with the rest of his body. The burning hot pain clashed with the freezing cold floor, but it did nothing to soothe him.

 

     Someone stepped painfully on his stomach, three times, and he convulsed, spitting blood from his clenched teeth as tears fell into blood, and made his mask slick. He cried as he curled further into himself, breathing heavily and praying that everything would just stop—

 

     Suddenly, the students stopped moving, and someone was shouting, shouting loudly and there was gasping, before the mass of grey that was suffocating him opened, and he could breathe. He coughed hard as the air cleared from the putrid smell of pandemonium, more blood seeping through his lips.

 

     He slowly unfurled from his ball as someone dropped to their knees beside him, everything throbbing and the fading bruises on his ribs reminding him that they never fully healed.

 

     Someone was speaking to him, their words muffled to his ears as he was slowly pulled to a sitting position, and he dizzily made out purple in the mass of the grey blob.

 

       “Puppet,” He wheezed, his voice not fully working, and he wondered if someone had stepped on his throat.

 

     He couldn’t hear what purple was saying, but soon a blue blob was beside him as well, and the two colors gently hefted him to his feet, where he swayed slightly, unable to gain his bearings.

 

     His body throbbed, and it was a different pain from when he got shot. That pain was concentrated on one spot, and his earbuds falling out had made him delirious with agony, while this was spread all over his body, throbbing with the sharp pain that promised bruises. It made his head spin, pain everywhere jabbing irons through his body as he was dragged away from his blood.

 

      The gray blob shifted to the side as his head lolled, his neck not responding to what he was telling it to do. He could move his legs, but they were slow to respond, every movement sending the stabbing pain up a level.

 

     The purple blob was angry, Midoriya could hear it even if his fuzzy brain couldn’t pick out the words that were being spoken, and the blue blob’s words were becoming more and more worried, like it was expecting something to happen, and nothing did.

 

     They began moving quicker, and they broke from the gray blob as Midoriya felt his body go numb, numb from the throbbing pain and the fuzziness, numb from the fear and adrenaline, numb from everything. He was unconscious before he even realized he closed his eyes.

 

 

 

     He was warm when he finally came back to consciousness and stayed there. Someone was pressed against his back, and by the low humming and familiar beating of a heart, it was Shinsou. He slowly peeled open his reluctant eyes, and met the white walls of Recovery Girl’s office.

 

     He made to move his arm, but a sharp pain from his ribs made him jerk, and that movement sent pain up his throat, and he cried out as every movement made everything hurt, and for a second he was on that table, bleeding and screaming, thrashing in someone’s hold, because he needed to find something—

 

     His headphones were slipped over his head and he coughed, tears spilling down his face as his body stung, large zings of pain telling him not to move.

 

       “Izuku? Are you okay?”

 

       “Hurts—“ He croaked, before coughing from the dry feeling in his throat.

 

     The warmth left his back and Shinsou was in his vision, a white cup in hand as he kneeled down. He placed the straw into Midoriya’s mouth, who took a grateful gulp as the cold substance ran down his aching throat and into his stomach.

 

     He turned his head to the side when it was too much water, and Shinsou placed the cup back on the stand he didn’t see earlier. Shinsou rested his head on his arms, crossed on top of the bed beside Midoriya’s shoulders.

 

       “Guess who broke their ribs again?”

 

     Midoriya groaned, and coughed when that small sound sent a spiky sea urchin down his throat.

 

       “Don’t speak. We had to heal your ribs again, and then your broken ankle . You were also suffering from lack of oxygen, so those injuries came first. Your bruising hasn’t been healed yet, and that’s why everything hurts.” Shinsou’s eyes welled up with tears as his voice broke. “You scared me .”

 

     Midoriya felt his face twist in guilt, but his throat told him he was swallowing sand paper, and his body said it had been an elephant’s trampoline while he was gone.

 

       “You weren’t responding to anything Meimei said, and the blood coming from your mouth just—“ his voice broke, and he buried his face into his hands. “All I could see was you bleeding out, choking on  your blood as you suffocated , and I just—“

 

       “Toshi,” Midoriya wheezed, and the boy sucked in a deep, shaky breath.

 

       “I said a lot of things,” Shinsou chuckled wetly, wiping his eyes as he sniffed and met Midoriya’s eyes. “A lot of  things that Dad and Papa would’ve washed my mouth out with soap if they heard. I basically threatened to massacre everyone there, and one stupid boy  had the audacity to  ask why you had even been hurt, since 1-A is supposed to be so much better—“

 

     Shinsou huffed, before a sheepish look appeared on his face. “I took hold of him and made him punch himself in the face. He broke his nose, and that got him out of my quirk, but I almost feel bad for it.” Shinsou suddenly sat up straight, and excited look on his face.

 

       “Which reminds me, I didn’t ask him a question! I just looked at him and wanted him to punch himself so badly, and he did! I think that’s a new part of my quirk!” Shinsou did a little happy wiggle, and Midoriya grinned. “I’m excited to test it out!”

 

     Midoriya gave him a thumbs up, because even whispering sent an inflated pufferfish scratching through his throat. Shinsou’s eyes suddenly went wide.

 

       “Oh yeah! Let me go get Meimei, I think she’s playing darts with the students.”

 

     Midoriya felt horror creep up his stomach, but Shinsou just smiled placatingly at him as he stood to leave the room. Midoriya would’ve believed that smile if it wasn’t sadistic, like Hatsume was playing  darts with the students, just not in the way that was normal, or sane.

 

     In the five minutes it took Shinsou to come back, Midoriya had barely managed to look down at his torso, and it was already bruising horribly, a span of colors covering his chest and arms, and probably his legs as well. Certain parts of his torso and arms were bandaged, and he felt like a mummy. The door was flung open, and he was greeted with the sound of Hatsume’s yelling.

 

       “—don’t think I can hit you like this?! I have eyes behind my head, motherfucker!” There was a loud clang , and someone cried out, before the door was violently slammed shut, and Hatsume’s angry muttering ceased.

 

       “You’re lucky that one was made of metal,” Shinsou muttered, before Midoriya guessed he waved towards the bed, because Hatsume inhaled sharply.

 

       “Izuku!” She cried, coming around the bed and into his vision. She was still in uniform, masks and all, where Shinsou had only his top mask, and he had only put it on when he left. “You’re so lucky you're  injured, otherwise I’d have put a wrench through  your  head!”

 

     Midoriya smiled softly, because despite Hatsume saying she would murder him if he wasn’t okay, her relief was palpable, and it touched him. He looked over to the cup, and Hatsume grabbed the cup, allowing him a couple of sips before she had to refill it.

 

     Midoriya looked back over at the table Shinsou sat down at, and noticed his uniform was laying beside it, folded nicely in the way that said Shinsou didn’t touch it. He frowned as he tried shifting closer, and hissed slightly when that made his throbbing stronger.

 

     He looked down to his chest, and his panic began welling up. He shifted again, biting back a cry as his everything doubled in pain.

 

       “Sweetheart, what are you looking for?”

 

     Midoriya looked down to his chest again, the action making his constricting pain throb, and looked back to Shinsou.

 

     The brainwasher’s eyes widened in horror, and Shinsou jerked out of the seat as he lunged at Midoriya’s costume, tossing it every which way, even though he knew they  didn’t take it off of him.

 

     Dread gripped Midoriya’s stomach as Hatsume came over, whispering with Shinsou about the necklace and panic took Midoriya over.

 

     His veins turned to ice as his body burned, tears welling up in his eyes as his throat clogged up with bloody tears, all thoughts of his throat hurting banished as his brain rapidly repeated no, nononono please oh gosh no—

 

     His throat clamped up as his dilated eyes wildly darted around the room, his heart racing as Hatsume shook her head at Shinsou, and it felt like a cluster of bombs went off in Midoriya’s brain, turning everything to mush as panic overwhelmed his very being, because that was Dabi’s, it was Dabi’s necklace, and if it was gone than so was Dabi, but he didn’t want Dabi to leave, Dabi promised to come back, Dabi promised him he’d always come back—

 

    He vaguely heard Shinsou say he would go check the hallway and Hatsume told Midoriya to stay in bed, before she too took off.

 

      They want you to stay. They want you to stay. They want you to—

 

      Dabi’s necklace is gone.

 

     Midoriya jerked up and out of the bed before unleashing a scream at the pain that brought him, the zinging, burning, aching, throbbing pain that reminded him that he had just been trampled by a horde of panicked students. He panted on the floor, trying to regain his bearings before his brain reminded him that Dabi’s necklace was gone, and he agonizingly pushed himself to his feet.

 

     Pain was wracking his very being at every movement, but he could push it away, he told himself that he’s been through worse, he can handle a bit of bruising. He jerked to his feet, biting his lip to keep the cry of pain lodged in his bleeding throat.

 

     He stumbled to the door, everything tilting on it’s axis as his vision swirled, and colors he didn’t even know existed splashed into his vision. He pushed past it, sliding the door open as he was suddenly very close to the floor, but he grabbed the wall and began quickly sliding across it, his vision looking like something straight out of a hallucination.

 

     He knew where his Dad was, he knew where to find him, because the sky was darker outside, even if it was a  reddish tinge, so he just had to trudge his way to homeroom.

 

     With his drugged up vision, and the pain jabbing through his body, he felt a sharp pain in his lip, and looked down to his chest, where blue liquid dribbled down.

 

     Fun, he had bit through his lip. Was human skin supposed to be teal? Was he human? What was—

 

     Dabi. Necklace.

 

     His urge to get to his Dad was renewed, and he was pushing past his hazy brain, where he finally arrived at the door to 1-A, who knows how long later.

 

     Decades or minutes? Who keeps track of those things?

 

     The door was size of a space shuttle, and then a small kitten, but he slid it open, and locked eyes with incredulous students.

 

     Oh yeah huh. He’s not in uniform. Shit.

 

     He woozily looked around the room, stumbling inside as his Dad was suddenly by his side, wary hands drifting over his body but not touching. He was saying something, but everything was a mush of sounds to Midoriya.

 

     He lurched backwards as the floor came up to greet him, and clutched onto his Dad’s sleeves, before shaking his head, and that didn’t help. His brain played Merry Go Round with his vision, and he swayed against his Dad, who was still saying something.

 

       “—eathe, you need to breathe—“

 

     Midoriya tried sucking air into his lungs, but they were stone in his chest, not responding to him. His eyes went wide as he clutched a hand to his chest, doubling over as the colors swirled faster, before dissipating as he sucked in a scratchy, halting breath.

 

     He looked up into his Dad’s worried face, and clutched his chest. “Necklace.” He wheezed, and Aizawa’s eyes blew open wide.

 

       “Neckl—“ he coughed, and no, blood doesn’t look good on his Dad.

 

       “This necklace?”

 

     He turned and cried out in relief, Dabi’s diamond snowflake, dangling from a gold chain, and he snatched it as tears spilled from his vision. He felt his legs give out beneath him, and he hit the ground hard, pain wracking his body but he didn’t care. Dabi’s necklace was here, Dabi would always come back, always, always—

 

     He curled around it shakily, trying to suppress the sobs that wanted to burst free, and he looked up to thank the person who had found it.

 

     His eyes blew open wide, his jaw going slack as his face drained of all color, and his dizziness came back with a vengeance. He felt it swirl around him, and the last thing he saw before passing out was cold, heterochromia eyes.

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

     Todoroki didn’t know what to think.

 

     His mind was racing, thoughts clashing against each other and screaming like a battle between two best friends, the closer they were, the uglier the fight.

 

     So he did what he usually did when his mind was raging a war, he went on a run.

 

     Something about running whatever pace he wanted, being able to control the speed he went, soothed him, as he couldn’t do the same thing with his mind.

 

     He was planning on going to his brother’s house, because the house he lived in with Endeavor and Fuyumi was empty, and he knew Natsuo would be home.

 

     Natsuo would have answers for him.

 

     The simplest thing for him to think about as he jogged around the trees and across the streets, was Machiavellian. He had to try and slow his thinking like his breathing, because if it came in too fast, he would be overwhelmed and left panting, aching in his chest as he tried to cope.

 

     Machiavellian was female, that was knowledge known all across Japan, along with the knowledge that she was Spider. The media had been going crazy after it was announced that the Masked Trio was going to attend Yuuei, and surprisingly, there were few objections.

 

     It seemed as though the Trio had everyone wrapped around their gloved fingers, from their flashy outfits to their ability to take down criminals and villains that the pro heroes couldn’t. They gained a lot of attention and popularity, and their idea quickly grew on those who were against it, three people who would protect them from the shadows, doing what almost all heroes wouldn’t.

 

     If the media found out Machiavellian was trampled by panicked students because they broke onto Yuuei’s property, it would be hell on earth.

 

     Which brought him to the necklace.

 

     He had been one of the people to move forwards and shove people away from where the girl had fallen, and as her partners hoisted her up, her head lolling and body unstable, he had caught sight of her necklace laying in her blood.

 

     Like any normal person, he had moved forwards to look at it, and felt his entire being freeze over like he had overused ice, because the necklace that sat on Machiavellian’s chest was his mother’s diamond snowflake. The snowflake that was supposed to somehow bring them hope, even if he didn’t understand how it was going to help them.

 

     He had grabbed it while the students were wallowing in self-pity, and he would never admit it, but the way Puppeteer was screaming at everyone, threatening to kill all of them, sent chills down his spine, because he could hear the truth in those words.

 

     He had ducked away, and tried getting rid of his chills as he made his way to the bathroom, where he washed the blood off of the necklace and dried it, staring at the small, inanimate object that was somehow supposed to save the victims of the Todoroki family.

 

     He had slipped it into his pocket, and made his way back to class, where he had texted Natsuo, asking just for clarification what the necklace looked like.

 

     Natsuo sent a picture of the necklace, the one that sat on his mother’s neck in a picture he’d never seen the whole to, and he had accepted it. The necklace matched his mother’s, meaning Machiavellian was supposed to somehow help them.

 

     But before the day had ended, someone had thrown open the door, and the entire class turned to look as a boy stumbled his way in, out of it and unstable. His body was wrapped up around his ribs, and parts of his arms, but it didn’t cover the horrible bruising that was peaking out beneath them.

 

     Todoroki had matched the boy’s face to the one he had seen in the store, and then again in Yuuei’s halls, where... the boy’s bandages soaked in blood where Machiavellian had been shot. He had stared at the boy, and the bruising supported his suspicion, because Machiavellian was the only person who was injured during the panic earlier.

 

     He had been out of his seat in an instant, not really understanding what he was doing as Aizawa darted over to the boy, his hands worriedly hovering but never touching, and the boy had clutched at their homeroom teacher, asking about a necklace—

 

     The necklace sitting in Todoroki’s pocket.

 

     Todoroki had taken it out as the boy coughed up blood, and asked him if he was looking for the necklace he had, and the boy didn’t even look at him as he snatched it away from him, dropping to his knees and curling around it as he cried, confirming every suspicion Todoroki had.

 

    Machiavellian was a boy, and the boy was the one sitting in front of him, a hero’s child and the one who know’s how to end All Might.

 

     But how was this tiny, frail boy supposed to help them?

 

    The boy, Akatani?, had met his eyes, before they blew wide in shock and he passed out. Aizawa had told all of them class was dismissed as he snatched the unconscious boy and ran away, probably back to the infirmity.

 

     Todoroki had been one of the first people out, where he had been cornered by the blonde haired boy, the one with the powerful explosion quirk.

 

       “What do you know?” The boy had asked, and Todoroki had shouldered him off, walking away with a scoff.

 

       “Nothing you don’t.”  He had said, and had dashed home, where he needed to tell someone he had seen it, seen Rei’s necklace.

 

     Thankfully, Endeavor was away in another city for... something, Todoroki tunes him out whenever he speaks, and sadly, Fuyumi was on a field trip with her class, and wouldn’t return until tomorrow.

 

     That left Natsuo, who got home from work kind of late, and that’s why Todoroki was on his way now, his brother said he was off, and that Todoroki could come over if he needed to.

 

     He slowed from his sprinting as he came to the stairs, breathing heavily as he took them in a light jog, stopping completely in front of his brother’s apartment, the one Machiavellian had fallen into when she— he got shot.

 

     Todoroki rang the doorbell and waited, panting as he put his hands on his head, opening his lungs and allowing more air flow. The door opened and his brother greeted him, moving away and allowing Todoroki to close the door behind himself.

 

       “What’s got you so motivated to see—“

 

       “I saw Mother’s necklace.”

 

    Natsuo whirled around, dropping the empty cup he was holding, and Todoroki flinched when it shattered into a million pieces, probably just like Natsuo’s brain. His brother iced the floor and walked across it quickly, grabbing Shouto’s shoulders in a tight grip, his eyes wild but full with hope.

 

       “Are you sure?” He asked, voice shaky. “Shouto, are you sure it  was Mother’s necklace? The—“

 

       “Diamond snowflake on the gold chain?” Shouto put his hands over his brother’s. “I held it in my hands today.”

 

    Natsuo cried out, and Shouto flinched back as his brother crumbled to his knees, tears falling from his eyes as he clutched his chest.

 

       “Thank god,” he sobbed, pressing his other hand against his eyes. “He’s okay.”

 

     Shouto kneeled down in front of his brother, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what Natsuo just said. “Who? Who’s okay?”

 

     His older brother froze, his hand slipping off of his face as he stared into Shouto’s confused eyes with shocked ones. He pressed a hand to his mouth, and Shouto was starting to think Natsuo slipped up, the he wasn’t supposed to say that.

 

     Shouto clutched his brother’s shoulders, panic welling up, because his entire family knew something he didn’t. “ Who? Natsuo, who’s okay?!”

 

       “Touya,” Natsuo whispered, eyes glazing over as he slipped back into memories. “Our... older brother.”

 

     Shouto launched himself to his feet, eyes wide in disbelief. “What?”

 

     Natsuo slowly pushed himself to his feet, tears drying on his cheeks, but his eyes were still wet. “Touya, the oldest Todoroki child.”

 

       “You and Fuyumi are the oldest.” Shouto denied shakily, but Natsuo ignored him as he walked over to the drawers, the ones Shouto was forbidden to go into, and slowly grabbed a framed picture.

 

     Natsuo traced the picture with shaky fingers, more tears spilling from his face as he slowly turned back towards his younger brother, and he held out the picture.

 

     Shouto looked down at the picture, then up at his brother, who wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he grabbed it, looking down at a picture that held his mother, wearing the snowflake necklace, and Shouto realized this was the picture he had never seen fully before, had only seen his mother and the necklace—

 

     Endeavor was there, but there was one, two, three, four... five other people standing beside him.

 

     Shouto’s eyes furrowed as he leaned closer to the picture, staring at a boy with dull blue eyes, and spiky red hair on his head as he smiled blankly at the picture. It was the same smile Shouto used whenever they had to take family pictures, the same dull, dead smile, that spoke books to those who had to same look.

 

     He turned to Natsuo slowly, confusion etched into his face.

 

       “Natsuo, who is the other boy?”

 

     Natsuo sighed, and sat down on the couch, crossing his arms as he stared off into space. “Todoroki Touya, the first child born to Endeavor and Todoroki Rei. He had blue flames that burned hotter than Endeavor’s, and he was ‘trained’ in the same way you were, to be the perfect weapon. The only difference, is that Touya refused to be Endeavor’s punching bag, and he fought back hard. His punishments began getting harsher and harsher, until he was admitted into a hospital because he was in a coma.”

 

     Natsuo squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop the tears, or keep the pain from his voice as he curled into himself.

 

       “That was around the time you were born, and two years later, he woke up. He was so excited  to meet his little brother, and he spoiled you so much , we used to joke about you being born with a silver spoon, because he loved you so much. Then... you got your quirk early, and it was strong. Half fire and half ice, the perfect quirk to ‘surpass All Might’, and Endeavor began ‘training you’ a year later.”

 

     Shouto sat down, feeling that this was going to be a long conversation, as he tried wrapping his head around the fact that he had an older brother, all three of them had an older brother.

 

       “Touya wasn’t okay with that. He would run into your ‘training sessions’ and take you away, hide you somewhere Endeavor took days to  find. Touya stocked those hiding places with food and water, along with your favorite blankets in case you fell asleep. Fuyumi and I would smuggle you to the bathroom and back when you needed to go.” Natsuo’s voice began getting shaky, breaking as he tried to hold a dam of emotions back.

 

       “One day, he... set the room on fire as he took you away, and he was mad. He was so, so mad  as he hid you away, because Endeavor hit Mother, but there was nothing any of us to do. Endeavor came for him, dragging him by the hair as Touya kicked and screamed, but we couldn’t do anything, didn't do  anything.” Natsuo sobbed as his guilt smashed into him hard, forcing the tears down his face like a waterfall as he choked on his breath, shakily inhaling as he tried to calm down.

 

       “H-his burns, Shouto, his burns—“ Natsuo broke off as he covered his eyes with his hand, throwing his head back as he cried, shaking as he held back the torrent of anger and guilt that wanted to break free, wanted to drown Endeavor’s flames under his sorrow.

 

     Shouto stared at his hands as he let Natsuo cry, because he remembered that, sitting in a small cubicle with his blanket as he ate a sandwich, trying to keep quiet, but not remembering why he  had to keep quiet, not remembering who told  him to keep quiet. He thought it was him dreaming, and every time that little cubicle slid open, and someone reached in to gently pull him out, the memory would fade, and he never saw the person’s face.

 

       “He r-ran away after that, taking Mother’s necklace, and saying w-when she saw it again, when any of us saw it again, he would c-come back and get all of us away from Endeavor.” He took a deep, shaky breath and lowered his hand, meeting Shouto’s eyes with a small smile.

 

       “You saw it today. It m-means he’s okay, and he’s right around the corner.”

 

     Shouto looked down at his hands, remembering the feeling of the necklace in his hands and he gathered his thoughts to speak. “T-Touya... what does he look like now?”

 

     Natsuo sighed, and wiped his face, staring into space as he thought about his older brother. “I don’t know. He had red hair, and blue eyes, but I’m pretty sure he dyed his hair black. His scars... they covered his neck up to his chin and his arms. He also had them under his eyes, because when he uses his flames, that’s where his fire comes out. His body was made for an ice quirk, cooler than normal and allowing him to survive in harshly cold temperatures, so when he forced all of his fire out...”

 

     Natsuo trailed off, before pulling himself to his feet and back to the drawer, where he pulled out more pictures, making his way back to Shouto as he handed them to the stunned boy.

 

     The first picture was of who Shouto now knew as Touya, spiky red hair and blue eyes as he cradled a baby Shouto close to his body, a silly smirk on his face as Shouto looked to be in the middle of laughing.

 

     The next picture was in the same area, Shouto’s blue baby clothing and Touya’s purple shirt, except Touya was pressing a kiss to baby Shouto’s cheek, as the toddler held a curious hand to his face.

 

     The third picture was blurred, and it showed Shouto tugging Touya’s red hair, the boy in the middle of shouting out with a panicked look on his face as a young Natsuo laughed in the background.

 

     The fourth picture was again a little blurry, but not as much as the other one, meaning the person taking it wasn’t in the middle of laughing. It was a little further back, showing the barstool Touya was sitting on in the garden, and Fuyumi was laughing as she held baby Shouto, a grinning Natsuo trying to pry Shouto’s clenched hand off teary-eyed Touya’s hair.

 

     The last one had Fuyumi beaming at the camera, holding Shouto, who wasn’t even looking in the right direction, as Touya stood to her left, as far away from Shouto’s hands he could get and looking traumatized as Natsuo took Fuyumi’s right, a peace sign on his hands as he smiled.

 

     Shouto looked back at all the pictures, seeing the brotherly love that shone through Touya’s eyes, and he was wiping his tears away as pangs of longing struck his chest.

 

       “I... didn’t see him with the necklace.” Shouto said, and Natsuo looked up at him, blinking his eyes from his daze.

 

       “What?”

 

       “I mean, I saw the necklace on Machiavellian, she was... trampled when everyone panicked because of the media, and the necklace was laying on the floor. I grabbed it, and matched it with the picture you sent me.”

 

     Natsuo hummed and stood, ruffling Shouto’s hair. “It doesn’t matter. Touya promised to be back, and he will be, with help to get us away from Endeavor. There’s sushi takeout in the fridge if you want some, and you can keep the pictures, I have copies. I’m going to bed.”

 

     Natsuo stretched his arms above his head as he made his way to the bedroom, and Shouto stared at his retreating back, before looking down at the pictures.

 

      Todoroki Touya. Todoroki Touya .

 

     Shouto had an older brother, who got so, so hurt because he couldn’t stand up for himself. It was his fault Touya ran away, because he wasn’t strong enough to protect himself, and then all this time, he never fought  back against Endeavor. Natsuo said Touya had fought back kicking and screaming, but Shouto didn’t. He quietly took it all, and what did that say to Touya, who was put into a coma and then injured so badly he felt as if he needed to run away in  order to survive?

 

     Shouto wiped his tears away and stood, pocketing the pictures and making his way to his room, where he flicked on the light and stared at the bloodstain.

 

     They had two bloodstains in their house now. One on Shouto’s floor and one in the dining room, both were usually covered by a rug Daedalus had sent them. Since they were gone, it meant Natsuo had put them into the hamper to wash, and he was going to wash them tomorrow.

 

     Todoroki shuffled out of his day clothing and changed into pj’s, soft, comfortable pajamas that Endeavor would never let him wear. He clicked off his light and made his way to his bed, sheets neat and tidy in a way that said Todoroki Shouto has not touched them yet.

 

     As he slipped into the soft covers, he rolled onto his side to stare at the bloodstain.

 

     Machiavellian was a boy, and he was the boy Todoroki just so happened to develop an infatuation for. Todoroki instantly covered his face at that, because it was true, and he didn’t know how to crush the awe building up in his chest.

 

     The boy’s name was Akatani, if he remembered correctly, and he knew how to take down All Might, the Symbol of Peace. It made more sense if he was Machiavellian, and Spider, the vigilante for six years— which meant he started when he was nine. At nine years old, Todoroki was beginning to accept the fact that he could never escape Endeavor, while this boy was out in the real world kicking ass.

 

     He suddenly thought, that since Akatani was both Machiavellian and Spider , who’s been on the streets for six years, there’s no way he  hasn’t stumbled upon Touya, right? From the way Natsuo explained it, Touya had some extremely bad burn scars, and meeting someone like that on the streets would be bound to stick to memory. He didn’t care if he had to beg Akatani, he would find his older brother, and apologize for not being strong enough.

 

     He felt his phone go off, and he glared at it on the nightstand, because now that he was all nice and comfy, his sister wanted to text him.

 

      He sighed and pulled himself out of his warm cocoon, unlocking his phone to read Fuyumi’s text message saying she was getting home early, because one of the students got sick, and she got everyone sick. The field trip was canceled, thankfully it didn’t cost the parents anything.

 

 

                                            You

 

RE: Mother

 

    I held Mother’s necklace in my hands today, the one Touya took when he ran.

 

 

     His message was seen as read, and an instant later, his sister was calling him.

 

       “Hello?” He answered, a small part of him wanting to hang up, but the bigger part of him knowing it wasn’t her fault.

 

     He hears Fuyumi sniff on the other end, like she had bursted into tears. Y-you know about T-Touya?”

 

     Todoroki laid back down on his bed, sighing when he felt the warmth from his body still there. “Natsuo told me.”

 

       “That asshole,” Fuyumi sniffed, and Shouto’s eyes blew wide. Fuyumi never swears . “We were supposed to tell you together.”

 

       “... I think I know someone who could find him.”

 

     Her breath hitched, and she coughed. “Y-you think so? It’s b-been so long..”

 

     Shouto nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, Machiavellian is in my class, remember? That, and I have something over h-her head that will get her to talk.”

 

     Fuyumi hummed, before breathing deeply. “Okay, it’s late and you have school tomorrow. Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

       “Goodnight Fuyumi.”

 

       “‘Night Shouto.”

 

     He hung up, and placed his phone on the night stand, laying back down to stare at the wall.

 

     He needed to find Touya, because he needed to apologize, and let him know that he shouldn’t have run away, because all of them were stronger together. Todoroki knew he was just upset that he didn’t remember his older brother, and his siblings had kept his memory away, for whatever reason. Now that he knew, he was going to search high and low, he was going to find Todoroki Touya, for the sake of his family.

 

      I will find you, Todoroki Touya, for the sake of us, and you.

Chapter Text

 

 

     If Midoriya thought he was in deep shit earlier, it was nothing compared to now.

 

     Aizawa didn’t even need to tell him he was upset, Midoriya felt it coming off of him in waves, his anger and worry mixing to making guilt strike Midoriya in the heart.

 

     That’s what he gets for collapsing in the middle of his Dad’s homeroom class after spitting blood onto his face, unmasked and out of uniform.

 

     Shinsou and Hatsume had been livid , unable to even look at him as they left the room after making sure he was still breathing. He was thankful neither could stay mad at him for long, because not even half an hour later, they both came back in and held him while all three of them cried.

 

     He knew it was his fault, even though he had been extremely out of it from lack of air. He had clearly heard Hatsume and Shinsou tell him to stay put, but he allowed the panic to overtake his brain, and he was stupidly trudging his way to 1-A before he could comprehend what he was doing.

 

     He had passed out from lack of oxygen, he remembers that, but he had a bigger problem to deal with.

 

     He didn’t know how to get himself out of the pickle that was Dabi’s necklace and Todoroki Shouto.

 

     He couldn’t believe he had lost his self-given challenge, to see how long he could keep the necklace hidden from Todoroki. Honestly, when he thought about it, that’s kind of a shitty thing to do, so that was karma coming and kicking him in the butt. What was he supposed to do now? All Todoroki’s knew that when they see Rei’s necklace, Dabi is supposed to—

 

     Midoriya felt himself blanch. Dabi. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit—

 

     He pulled his phone out from behind his pillow and unlocked it, quickly tapping on his message icon and then the Unknown Number. He didn’t save it as Dabi, because Dabi changes phones and or numbers often, not because he can afford it, but because he stole Endeavor’s credit card and mastered his signature, along with memorizing all of his pins. So in a way, he could afford it.

 

     So, yes, it was very hard to track Dabi down.

 

     He took a deep breath, and decided for a leap of faith.

 

 

                                            You

 

RE: none

 

    Dabi, if this is still your number, I need you to call me. It’s an emergency.

 

 

     He sent it, and closed his eyes, crossing his fingers as he hoped, praying that Dabi didn’t change his number after reaching out to Midoriya.

 

     Tears spring into his eyes, his heart clenching like someone had wrapped their hand around it, and he felt his face instantly flush from his tears.

 

     His phone was ringing.

 

     He picked it up, and heard Dabi’s voice speaking before he could even get out a greeting.

 

       “Squirt, are you okay? Did something happen? Are you dying in an alley somewhere? Oh, I knew I should’ve—“

 

     Midoriya felt a sob slip through his lips before he could hold it back, and Dabi went silent at it.

 

       “Squirt, are you okay?”

 

       “Dabi, I messed up,” he sobbed, and he heard the boy shift on the other end, like he was sitting up.

 

       “What did you do?”

 

       “I— it was an accident!” He cried, and he curled around his bruised ribs. Chiyo had healed his arms and legs, along with his throat, but she left his ribs alone, something like a punishment. “I didn’t m-mean to.”

 

       “Izuku what did you do?” Dabi’s voice was soft, but also holding horror, like he was expecting the worse.

 

       “Todoroki,” He hiccuped. “Took my necklace.”

 

     Dabi inhaled sharply, and Midoriya cringed at the sharp noise.

 

       “Izuku,” Dabi whispered, exhaling all of his air.  “It’s okay.”

 

       “But I— wait, what?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes as Dabi chuckled softly.

 

       “I gave it to you hoping one of them would see it. They need to know I’m okay, and that I have evidence against Endeavor.”

 

     Midoriya sat up quick, hissing when his ribs kindly reminded him they were bruised. “You have evidence against Endeavor?”

 

     Dabi hummed an affirmative. “Yep! Whenever you’re ready to score me a court date or something, let me know.”

 

     Midoriya sat back down, ribs screaming and he exhaled hard when his back hit the pillows. “Court date. Take down Endeavor. Okay. Want me to throw in front row tickets to the Todoroki shenanigans?”

 

     Dabi laughed on the other end, even if it sounded the slightest bit painful. “I don’t know how they’d react to seeing me again.”

 

     Midoriya hummed thoughtfully. “There’s only one way to find out.”

 

     Dabi started laughing, but this time it was real, he was actually amused. “Alright Squirt, is that all you called for?”

 

     Midoriya paused. “Are you okay?”

 

     Dabi was silent, the sound of a faint door opening and bringing light chatter, before he was whispering, “The League Of Villains are planning to attack during the field trip to the USJ in order take down All Might. The Nomu has multiple quirks. Be careful.”

 

     He hung up, leaving Midoriya to stare at the wall in shocked silence. His hand slowly dropped from his face, hitting the bed beside his phone as he stared at the wall, unable to comprehend.

 

     The League Of Villains, something he had heard whispers of during his underground patrols, was nothing new to his ears. It was what Shigaraki claimed to be the boss of, and then he went and started saying if he killed Midoriya, it would upset Sensei. So, that meant Shigaraki wasn’t in charge, he was just the pawn to someone, a charge to teach the ropes of villainy.

 

     That made him think, which villain out there has so many connections and henchmen, that Midoriya hasn’t encountered him at all? His mind flashed back to what All Might said, about how his injury with a mysterious villain never went broadcasted, and he couldn’t help but pin that title to that unnamed villain.

 

     Which also made him realize, that this battle was much bigger than he.

 

     But all of that was besides the point. If Dabi knew what  Shigaraki was  planning, then that means he was—

 

     An emotion he didn’t like was welling up in his chest, swallowing his happiness whole as it spilled acid into his veins, scorching his mind as his thoughts set to fire, feeling so real he could almost smell the burning ashes of his joy.

 

     He knew Dabi was a villain, but the word villain was so overused today, used for lowly criminals or rule breakers, that he hadn’t entertained the thought of Dabi being an actual killer. But if Dabi was a part of Shigaraki’s League, the League Of Villains, it meant Dabi was far deeper in the rabbit hole than Midoriya thought.

 

     The wall became blurry as Midoriya’s mouth became salty, but no matter how many times he blinked, it did not rid of the sorrow swimming in his soul. He had lost the very first person who ever cared for him to Shigaraki, and that set gasoline to his fire.

 

       Shigaraki took Dabi away. Shigaraki took Dabi.

 

      Shigaraki is going to suffer.

 

     The door slid open, and he barely registered it, until someone was sitting on his bed and he slowly turned his unresponsive head towards Shinsou, who was staring at him with concerned eyes. Aizawa and Yamada were standing in the doorway, and he realized the day must be over.

 

       “Sweetheart?” He looked back into Shinsou’s worried lavender eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 

     Midoriya always thought he was an ugly crier.

 

     He knew some people would look at him and scoff, because he was crying over what? Someone who he hasn’t seen in six years is now a villain, big whoop. People are betrayed every day.

 

     But what those people don’t know is that Midoriya doesn’t attach himself to very many people, and when he does, he becomes attached. He only actually cares for five people in the entire world. Aizawa, Yamada, Shinsou, Hatsume, and Dabi. Everyone else, he would feel sad, extremely sad if he lost them, but he wouldn’t be devastated .

 

     Shigaraki took away the first person he had ever held dear to him, and he promised himself that he would bring Shigaraki hell on earth. He would make Shigaraki suffer, by tearing down his reputation, his league, his body, his mind, everything. He would rip them to shreds, and burn the ashes, because Shigaraki took Dabi away from Midoriya—

 

     He would do anything to get Dabi back.

 

       “Izuku?” Shinsou whispered, cradling Midoriya’s head to his chest as he rocked the crying boy back and forwards. “What’s wrong?”

 

       “Dabi—“ he choked out, and Aizawa exchanged a glance with Yamada. They knew who Dabi was, but they didn’t know who  he was. “Dabi’s— oh god—“

 

       “Shhh,” Shinsou whispered, caressing the boy’s black hair. “Let it all out.”

 

       “Dabi’s a villain,” he sobbed, clutching Shinsou closer as the boy paused. “He’s in LoV.”

 

       “Oh, sweetheart,” Shinsou whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

 

       “Kiki’s the one who needs to be sorry,” Midoriya snarled, and his parent’s whiplash was almost palpable. “Kiki took Dabi from me, and now he’s going to pay—“

 

       “How did you find out?”

 

     Midoriya jolted at the question, and pulled away, grabbing Shinsou’s shoulders as he continued to ignore his throbbing ribs. “LoV, they’re attacking during the USJ field trip. They’re going to take down All Might.”

 

     Shinsou’s eyes blew wide. “But what changes now? They’ve tried in the past.”

 

     Midoriya bit his lip as he tried remembering the word Dabi used. “Ah! Nomu. They’re using a Nomu, it has multiple quirks.”

 

     Shinsou hissed. “That’s not good.”

 

       “What’s happening?”

 

     Midoriya turned around to look at Yamada. “The League Of Villains are going to attack—“

 

       “League Of Villains?”

 

     Midoriya nodded. “I tore down one of their bases, stopping their debut, but I think they’re having help from a— uh, from the villain All Might fought.”

 

     Aizawa sucked in a breath. “All for One?”

 

     Midoriya blinked. “Is that his name?”

 

     Aizawa slapped a hand over his mouth, but it didn’t cover his curse. “No.”

 

     Midoriya huffed. “It doesn’t matter, we need to tell Nezu!”

 

     Aizawa sighed, dropping his hand and opening his mouth, but Yamada slapped his own hand over Aizawa’s mouth, shooting his boyfriend a glare.

 

       “We’ll tell Nezu tomorrow. Also, due to your stupid stunt,” he said pointedly, and Midoriya innocently blinked. “You’ll be showing up out of costume.”

 

       “Uniform.” He and Shinsou said in unison, before, “Wait, what?”

 

     Yamada suddenly shrieked and yanked his hand away from Aizawa’s mouth, and the younger boys rolled their eyes, because be honest, who were the real kids sitting in this room?

 

       “The entire class was asking who you were,” Aizawa said, ducking away from Yamada who was trying to wipe his infected hand on his shoulder. “So Nezu decided you’re going to go as, uh, not Machiavellian. It’s your punishment for being so careless.”

 

       “That damned rat,” Midoriya huffed, crossing his arms playfully. “Fine. But I’m going as Aizawa Izuku, change my mind.”

 

     Aizawa opened his mouth, but Yamada slapped his hand over his mouth again, this time with gloves on, not about to make the same mistake.

 

       “That’s fine, Hitoshi and Hatsume-san are going to be Masked.”

 

     Shinsou pouted. “Okay. I’ll have my own crazy anime reveal later.”

 

     Midoriya grabbed a pillow, ignoring the sharp zings of pain, because they seemed almost mocking, like, he had broken his ribs earlier, bruising is nothing. He smacked Shinsou in the face with it, and the boy fell back with a cry.

 

       “Don’t jinx it!” Midoriya shouted, and Shinsou sat up with a face that spoke volumes of vengeance.

 

        “Alright boys,” Yamada said fondly as he stood up. “Come on, we’ll eat out. Where should we go?”

 

     The two brothers looked each other in the eyes, green meeting purple, and then they were scrambling over each other to get to the door, shouting random food choices. Yamada smiled softly at the boys as Aizawa stood beside him, watching the brothers gently wrestle each other, before Shinsou let Midoriya win and he was springing to his feet.

 

       “Katsudon! I want katsudon!”

 

       “But we had katsudon last week,” Shinsou whined from the floor, but Midoriya just stuck his tongue out.

 

     Yeah, maybe at first, it had been an unusual change, but with Aizawa by Yamada’s side, neither regretted adopting the boys.

 

 

 

 

       “Without any evidence to support that claim, I am afraid I am going to have to write it off as paranoia and shock.”

 

       “What?” Midoriya leaned forward, his snowflake necklace glinting against the early morning light, looking like an actual snowflake against Midoriya’s tan chest. “What do you mean ‘shock’?”

 

     Nezu sighed and linked his hands together leaning forwards as well. “I mean, you have just found your caretaker to be a villain—“

 

       “He’s not a villain,” Midoriya denied shakily. “It was a stupid mistake.”

 

     Nezu’s eyes glinted. “And he has not tried to make amends, has he?”

 

     Midoriya sat back slowly, biting his lip. “I don’t know.”

 

       “Until you can back up your claim, I cannot raise alarms.”

 

     Midoriya leaned forwards, shock evident in his face. “You’re still going to allow the field trip?”

 

     Nezu nodded, and Midoriya was three seconds away from taking the precious pen on his desk and stabbing it through his stupid, smiling—

 

     Midoriya took a deep breath, the smell of freshly brewed tea caressing his nose and lingering as he exhaled. “Fine. Fine. When something bad happens, I’m holding you accountable.”

 

     Nezu smiled politely. “Nothing will happen, I assure you.”

 

     Midoriya stiffly stood and bowed to Nezu, before walking to the door, sliding it open and closing it gently behind him, where he hissed intelligible words as he shadow boxed, pretending he was seeing Nezu.

 

     He sighed, and straightened out the weird clothing Hatsume had given him, if it was even clothing, and began making his way to the classroom, adjusting his headphones as he walked.

 

     He was actually wearing jeans, only because it was Hatsume’s apology for the top. It was a see-through, white tank top, which showed the bandages he had wrapped from his navel to his armpits. Over it, was a loose, three sizes too large white t-shirt, made of... mush? Mesh? Mosh? All he knew, is it looked like Hatsume dressed him in a fishnet, and he wasn’t appreciating it.

 

       “What did he say?” Shinsou asked, pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against and joining Midoriya as the smaller boy stalked down the halls.

 

       “He can’t do anything because I don’t have evidence. I’m just in ‘shock’ that my caretaker is actually a villain.”

 

       “He’s seriously not doing anything?” Shinsou asked, incredulous. He was lucky to be in uniform, because Midoriya was freezing his butt off and Shinsou didn’t even know it.

 

     Midoriya closed his eyes and shook his head, before blinking rapidly when his contacts shifted.

 

       “I should’ve used less solution.” He whined, and Shinsou snickered.

 

       “That’s why I have Me— uh, Daedalus do them for me.”

 

 

       “Shut up,” Midoriya muttered, and he pressed his headphones harder against his ears when Shinsou tried speaking. “Lalalala I’m not listening!”

 

       “How annoying,” Shinsou murmured, before dashing towards the classroom as Midoriya squawked.

 

     He couldn’t run, his ribs told him not to, but since when does he listen to things he should? He darted afterwards Shinsou, before someone caught his arm in a tight grip and he slammed into someone’s back.

 

       “How disrespectful! Not only running in the halls, but you are not donned in the proper uniform! Does Principal Nezu know—“

 

    The familiar voice was continuing it’s rant, but he was otherwise distracted. Instead of agreeing with the voice, he was thinking something along the lines of: hey, hey, lungs, you know I love you guys, even though you tried to kill me with my own blood, but I need you to work please, air is vital for my brain. You know what a brain is right? WITHOUT MY BRAIN YOU DIE TOO—

 

     That seemed to kickstart his lungs, and he sucked in a large gulp of air as his legs gave out, and he was kneeling on the ground, his ribs throbbing, can lungs throb? Because he was totally feeling it—

 

       “Please let go of him.”

 

     Midoriya wished he could throw emotions at people, because he would’ve gifted Shinsou with his joy and gratitude. Shinsou gently grabbed his arms and pulled him to his shaky feet, fixing his crooked headphones and centering his snowflake.

 

       “Puppeteer, with all due respect, he is not in the proper—“

 

       “I’m motherfucking Machiavellian,” Midoriya wheezed. “I don’t follow no rules.”

 

     Iida paused, and Shinsou took that moment of shock to tug Midoriya to the classroom, where he hoped no one was inside yet.

 

       “Should you tell everyone who you are?” Shinsou asked, because Midoriya used to be extremely worried about spilling his guts, and the Midoriya now was... slightly worrying.

 

     Midoriya waved him off with a scoff. “They’re gonna find out anyways. Why be so secretive about it? If I’m going to be spilled to the world, then I’m being spilled in style.” Midoriya tossed his hands up, making a V with his fingers as he smirked suggestively into the air.

 

     Shinsou shuddered and covered his eyes. “You’re so cringe worthy.”

 

     Midoriya scoffed. “You’re just jealous that I got swag.”

 

       “Please stop talking,” Shinsou pleaded, and Midoriya felt like cackling, because now that he was out of suit for good, he no longer needed his alter ego, the seductive, sweet Machiavellian.

 

     He was a sassy, flirty, badass motherfucker, and he would flaunt it... wether Shinsou dies from cringing or not.

 

     Shinsou pulled open the door and sighed in relief. It was empty. He made his way in and Midoriya closed the door behind him.

 

       “We’re all alone,” Midoriya cooed, and Shinsou looked at him weirdly as the boy licked his lips and advanced, swishing his hips to the side. “My husband’s out, what should we do—“

 

     The door slid open at that exact moment, and Midoriya ripped his arms off of Shinsou like he had been burned, and screeched, “No incest here!”

 

     Bakugou Katsuki blinked smartly, and a small smile slipped onto his face. “I’m not judging.” He said softly, closing the door behind him as he made his way to drop his stuff off at his desk.

 

     With his stuff safely sitting on his desk, he made his way to Midoriya was miffed to find that Bakugou was the slightest bit taller than him. Bakugou wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders, pulling the slightly smaller boy close so he could bury his face into Midoriya’s neck.

 

       “Hey now,” Midoriya said teasingly. “That’s Toshi’s spot.”

 

       “Toshi can find a new spot,” Bakugou said, slightly choked, before laughing as Shinsou made a gunshot noise and fell backwards, laying back on the desk like a freshly gutted fish.

 

     Bakugou was still holding Midoriya close, relief coming off of him in waves, and Midoriya had begun rocking the boy side to side when the door slid open again.

 

     Todoroki Shouto was slightly stunned by what he came upon. Akatani hugging Explosion Boy, Bakugou.... Katsumi? Didn’t matter, the thing is, Bakugou was very reserved, but a very, very brilliant person. He didn’t like touching people, so to see him hugging this boy like it was the last goodbye was... new.

 

       “Akatani, come here please.” He said, and the boy jolted, but didn’t allow Bakugou to pull away.

 

       “...that’s not my name, Todoroki Shouto. Until you know my name, you cannot order me to do anything.”

 

     He took a step back, eyes shocked, but before he could say anything, the door slid open and the stickler for rules walked in.

 

       “You!” He cried, pointing at Midoriya. “You are not donned in the proper uniform, meaning you have not—“

 

     Puppeteer was suddenly on his feet, bottom mask gone so they could see him bare his teeth. “Don’t try anything, Iida Tenya.”

 

     The boy blinked, but when he shifted to peek at Midoriya, Shinsou leaned the same way, his glare becoming scalding behind his mask.

 

       “Very well,” he said stiffly, turning to put his stuff away at his desk.

 

     Todoroki followed suit, slowly sitting down as he stared at the boy who had Touya’s necklace. Every time the boy shifted a certain way, it would catch the light and shine, letting him know that everything he and his family were waiting for was with the boy who wouldn’t talk to him.

 

     Fun.

 

     Slowly, one by one, the students began trailing into the class, shooting confused looks at the boy they’ve never seen before, until Kaminari and Sero trailed in beside Ashido, Kirishima, and Uraraka.

 

       “Oh!” Kaminari said, and everyone turned to look as bounded over to the short blackette. “You’re the one, uh, at the store and at the exam! Thank you so much for what you said, it really helped me.”

 

     Midoriya beamed brightly, and the boy blinked, suddenly feeling very blind. “You’re welcome! I’m glad it helped you, I was hoping it would.”

 

     Kaminari smiled, before leaning in. “Is your brother here?”

 

    Midoriya grinned mischievously. “My brother? Yes, he’s here every day.”

 

       “Really?” Uraraka suddenly bounded up beside them, and the rest of the group followed. “Kaminari won’t shut up about your brother! What class is he in?”

 

     Midoriya hummed, his cue for Shinsou to tell him what he wanted to do, and the tall boy leaned forward, tapping Midoriya on the shoulder.

 

       “I don’t think Hitoshi would appreciate it if we spill where he is. He enjoys stalking Kaminari.”

 

     Midoriya had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing as Kaminari’s face flushed a dark red at his friend’s teasing.

 

       “W-w-w-what?!” The boy stuttered, and Ashido mocked him playfully, everyone ooing . “H-he stalks me?!”

 

     Shinsou nodded thoughtfully, and Midoriya was practically biting through his lip, because here he was, spilling his guts in order to stay hidden.

 

       “Yeah. Always have to listen to him complaining about how he can’t talk to you, see you, hold your hand, caress your face, brush your hair—“

 

       “Okay!” Midoriya said, gently but quickly pressing Shinsou’s face into the desk. “Enough spilling Toshi’s guts, he won’t appreciate it later.”

 

       “He really won't ,” Shinsou groaned defeatedly, and Midoriya snickered.

 

       “Sounds like your brother’s whipped,” Uraraka said excitedly, and Midoriya leaned in to stage whisper.

 

       “He totally is. He’s just worried our dear Kaminari doesn’t like him back.”

 

     Kirishima gasped like he had just cursed in seven different languages, unable to tell if it’s shocked or awed. “Dear Kaminari won’t shut up about your brother! Make him shut up! Operation set Kaminari up with your brother is a go!”

 

     Midoriya noticed the way Bakugou flushed slightly when Kirishima met his eyes, darkening when the boy grinned, before getting into a mini-debate with Sero about wether crocs or sandals were better.

 

     Midoriya leaned into Bakugou, and the boy turned to ask if he was okay, but Midoriya pushed his face forwards, to stare at Kirishima. “Go getchur mans.” He cooed, and Bakugou shoved him off with a red face.

 

       “Shut up!” He cried, and Midoriya laughed, before the door slid open and Aizawa stumbled in.

 

     Everyone rushed to their seats as Midoriya plopped down in his, a few students giving him weird looks because, wasn’t that Machiavellian’s seat?

 

     His Dad slowly turned towards the class, and Midoriya puffed his cheeks in annoyance, because he made Aizawa coffee that morning, he knew Aizawa  was awake.

 

       “As you can see, Machiavellian is—“

 

       “Is she okay?!”

 

       “She’s not still in Recovery Girl’s office, right?!”

 

       “Does she know we’re extremely sorry?!”

 

       “She didn’t die right?!”

 

       “No she didn’t, you idiot.”

 

       “Can we visit her and apologize?!”

 

       “Is she taking visitors?”

 

       “Who’s the boy sitting in Machiavellian’s seat?”

 

       “Why isn’t the boy dressed in a uniform?”

 

       “Are we allowed to wear whatever we want?!”

 

       “When will Machiavellian come back?”

 

       “She is coming back right?”

 

       “Who is sitting  in Machiavellain’s seat?”

 

     Before the questions could continue, Midoriya turned to the person who asked the last question, and locked eyes with Ojirou Mashiro.

 

       “Machiavellian.” He answered, before turning back to the front before the students could blow up at him in confusion.

 

     Aizawa held up a hand when all of the students started clamoring, and the instantly quieted down. “Machiavellian is not fully healed from the incident, but he is stable enough to join us in class.”

 

     Kaminari‘s hand sprang into the air even as he spoke. “He?”

 

     Aizawa waved towards Midoriya, and the boy raised out of his seat. “This is Aizawa Izuku, he’s Machiavellian.”

 

     It was silent for three seconds as Midoriya beamed at all of them, before chaos broke out.

 

       “He?!”

 

       “A boy?!

 

       “Machiavellian is a boy?!”

 

       “Since when?!”

 

       “No way!”

 

       “But Machiavellian’s so curvy!”

 

       “How the hell do you know that?”

 

       “I have eyes you know! I can use them!”

 

       “Wait, hold up, Aizawa?!”

 

       “He’s your son?!”

 

       “Machiavellian is a boy, and he’s your son?!”

 

       “What the hell is going on?!”

 

      “Fellow classmates!” Iida yelled, adding to the noise. “We should not be yelling!”

 

       “You’re yelling,” Jirou deadpanned, and Iida dropped his hand with clenched teeth.

 

     Aizawa held his hand up again, and the class fell silent. Midoriya took his seat even as he could feel someone’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He ignored them.

 

       “Any and all questions will be asked after school. Anyone who breaks this rule will be automatically expelled.”

 

     It was dead silent and Aizawa nodded in content, before turning to the blackboard, and the lesson started.

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

     Midoriya was anxious, nervous energy making his leg bounce as he carefully scanned the students sitting on the bus, doing a head count even though he knew all of them were there.

 

     He would make sure all of them would be there after the USJ as well.

 

     Shinsou leaned over. “How many students?”

 

       “Eighteen,” Midoriya answered instantly, opening his mouth to recite names, quirks, and ages, but Shinsou nudged his shoulder, startling the boy.

 

       “It’s going to be okay, we won’t let anything happen to them.”

 

     Midoriya took a deep breath, pressing his hands to his bruised ribs, feeling the rise and fall until it was steady, smooth.

 

     At first, he had hidden in the bathroom stall after changing, because Chiyo gave him the all clear for his injuries, so Hatsume took the wrappings away, promising to make another uniform.

 

     Without the wraps, you could see the horrible purple, green, and yellow bruising that ran up his sides, something Recovery Girl left as a ‘punishment’, which Midoriya thought was stupid, because she wanted him to be able to breathe, right?

 

     You could also see the two small indents in his back, where Hatsume had dug the bullets out.

 

     So yes, he had been extremely self-conscious, walking to the bus with his arms draped over his torso, but no one had said anything, either pitying him or really not noticing it.

 

       “Okay,” he slowly exhaled his air. “Everything will be okay.”

 

     Shinsou nudged him gently. “There you go. Don’t be so pessimistic, a little optimism doesn’t hurt.”

 

       “A little optimism is going to get you killed one day,” Midoriya scoffed, crossing his arms and slumping down in the chair.

 

     Shinsou’s eyes crinkled around the edges, telling Midoriya that he was grinning. “As if Puppeteer would go down so easily.”

 

       “Nailing the screws to your coffin,” Midoriya warned, but Shinsou just laughed.

 

     Shinsou could be as optimistic as he wanted, but Midoriya had a bad feeling, like something terrible was about to happen. His instincts have never failed him before.

 

     (Except for that one time he thought he could run across cardboard. He fell three stories, but we’re not getting into that)

 

       “Machiavellian, are you really... Aizawa’s kid?”

 

     Midoriya looked up into the eyes of Kaminari Denki, and he sat up straight.

 

       “Uh... yeah?” It clicked, and he reached up to his changer, flipping the off switch. “I can take my mask off too.”

 

     Half of the students jumped at the masculine voice coming from the female’s body, and Shinsou snickered beside him. Midoriya reaches up and pulled his mask off, sliding his changer around his neck, and the student’s eyes bulged out of their heads.

 

       “You... really are a boy.” Ojiro said slowly.

 

     Midoriya leaned forward, a scowl on his face. “Did you just assume my gender?”

 

     Ojiro threw his hands up, stuttering excuses and apologies, but Midoriya just sat back with a laugh.

 

       “Don’t stress it,” he chuckled, putting his changer back on and flipping the switch. “I was messing with you.”

 

       “How long did it take for you to get used to... dressing like that?” Yaoyorozu asked, and all of the girls turned to him, curiosity burning in their eyes.

 

     Midoriya hummed, sitting back and crossing his legs, tilting his head up, the perfect picture of arrogance. “Nothing is too hard for me to adjust to—“

 

       “Ha!” Shinsou slapped him upside the head, and the force made Midoriya keel over, his head between his knees. “He still sounds like a strangled cat when getting into it.”

 

     Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened in horror. “Is it that painful?”

 

     Midoriya sat up quick. “Of course it’s painful! You ever heard of a waist trainer?! Or a straightener?! Those things are sent from the depths of hell!”

 

       “Why do you go through all of this just for a costume?” Bakugou asked, confusion written into his tone.

 

       “Uniform,” He and Shinsou said in unison, before Midoriya thoughtfully hummed.

 

       “Because it was Daedalus’s idea. It definitely made slipping under the radar easy, because all of the heroes and police were looking for a female about three inches taller than I am with straight shoulder-length hair.” He shrugged. “That with my quirkless state, and it made me untra—“

 

       “You’re quirkless?!”

 

     Midoriya blinked, a bit of that fear creeping in, before it was smashed down by his ego. He had survived on the streets for six years, if these students thought he was less than them because he did that without any magical powers, they were in the wrong, not hm.

 

     Midoriya tilted his head, arrogance slipping into his tone. “Problem?”

 

     Ashido instantly shook her head. “No! It’s just... you wear those giant headphones, and you’re quirkless?”

 

     Midoriya blinked, not expecting that response. “Uh, yeah? I got my heightened senses on the streets.”

 

     Tsuyu suddenly pressed a finger to her chin. “You suddenly got a quirk from nowhere? Isn’t that kind of suspicious?”

 

       You want a quirk, little one?

 

     Kirishima leaned forwards. “That is kind of weird, but isn’t there a way you could get a quirk, from stress?”

 

      I can give you a quirk.

 

       “I don’t think there’s such a thing,” Iida denied, pressing his glasses up his nose. “It would be in the books otherwise.”

 

      After all, Midoriya Izuku—

 

       “But not everything is documented, there could be something like that out there!”

 

      Family takes care of each other.

 

       “Shut up!” Midoriya screamed, clapping his hands over his ears as he doubled over, the man’s voice spinning around his head, and for a second, he was back in that room, the dark, musky room as that man stared at him, staring staring and waiting, waiting for something—

 

       “Izuku. You need to snap out of it.”

 

     His eyes cleared, and he blinked as he realized he was standing, Aizawa in front of him, eyes worried. The man was holding his forearm, which held one of his knifes, inches away from Aizawa’s neck. He dropped it with a gasp, and it clattered to the floor, his body following it a second after.

 

     He covered his mouth in horror as his mind replayed the memory his brain had shut away, locking it up with invincible chains and surrounding the place with lava.

 

       “Izuku?”

 

     He looked up, and met Aizawa’s eyes as the man crouched down, gently putting his hands on Midoriya’s shoulders. “What happened?”

 

       “I...” Midoriya felt his voice give, and he grit his teeth together as he dropped his head, trying to keep the tears inside.

 

     How would Aizawa react, knowing that Midoriya—

 

     His eyes would change, they would fill with hatred and disgust, as he realized who Midoriya was, his actions would change, no longer filled with fatherly love, his words would become harsh and cruel, just like—

 

     Someone embraced him, and he pressed his face into Aizawa’s black hair. “I— I’m—“

 

       “If it’s too hard, don’t speak.”

 

     The entire bus was silent, the students staring at each other and trying to understand why Aizawa-kun had snapped the way he did.

 

     He had been fine, talking to them about quirks, and in the next second, he was screaming, covering his ears and he screamed at them to shut up, and then Aizawa-Sensei was out of his seat, grabbing the boy’s hands, and then the two males were a blur, moving around a bit, but when they stilled, the man was stock-still as his son pressed a knife to his neck.

 

     And then their emotionless teacher hugged him, which shouldn’t be so weird, considering the boy was his son, but it just was.

 

     The bus slowed to a stop, and Aizawa pulled away from his son, gently wiping away the boy’s tears. “Get your head back in the game.”

 

     The boy nodded and sniffed, leaning over and grabbing his knife as Aizawa made his way off the bus.

 

     Shinsou slowly crouched down beside Midoriya, who was staring at his knife. “What... was that?”

 

     Midoriya flinched, sliding his knife back into the holster. “I... I’ll tell you later.”

 

     Shinsou nodded, pulling Midoriya to his feet with one hand. “Was it what happened in the—“

 

       “I said later !” Midoriya snapped, before pausing, and dropping his face into his hands, voice full of regret. “I’m sorry, I’m not... ready to think about what happened.”

 

    Shinsou nodded. “I understand. Come on, let’s not leave Thirteen waiting.”

 

     Midoriya was the second person off the bus, leaving the students to wallow in their confusion.

 

       “Let’s... follow them.” Iida said, and the students hesitantly stood, still a little iffy about the situation, but they all got off the bus.

 

     The students formed a loose circle as they were lead into the building, and upon entering, they were gasping in shock, awe overtaking their voices as they chattered excitedly to each other.

 

       “Do you think we’re in the clear?” Shinsou whispered, and Midoriya shrugged, slowly scanning everything he could see, before his eye caught something.

 

     He kneeled down to the ground, switching his thermal detector on, and he sucked in a breath, tugging Shinsou down beside him, pointing down to the plaza as he whispered, “My thermal camera is picking up a very high amount of body heat.”

 

     Shinsou was silent, probably checking for himself, and he too gasped. “Oh god. You don’t think—“

 

       “Kurogiri.” Midoriya answered, before launching himself to his feet, cutting off whatever Thirteen was saying. “Dad, we need to get the students back to campus, someone call—“

 

       “Wait,” Thirteen said, but Aizawa was already herding the students towards the door. Before he could get far, there was an angry snarl from below.

 

       “Ratting us out so early? How could you see us?”

 

     Midoriya turned back to the plaza, and felt pure hatred rush through his system at the sight of Shigaraki.

 

     He couldn’t even explain the amount of hatred he had rushing through his veins. It was one of those things you couldn’t understand unless you yourself have experienced it, one of those things that you could read about, write about, and think that it wouldn’t be so hard to control, but when you actually experience that feeling, there’s nothing, nothing but that burning hatred.

 

    Midoriya’s hatred was the kind that said if you didn’t calm down, when you come back to yourself, you’ll be in the back of a police car with your clothes drenched in a metallic smelling red. The kind of hatred that said you would be able to murder someone and you wouldn’t give a fucking Damn if  you go to jail or worse. All you can think about is making that person fucking pay—

 

     That was the kind of hatred he was feeling. Shigaraki was in front of him, Shigaraki was the person who took Dabi away from him, and he wanted to hear Shigaraki scream , wanted to make him writhe in agony, show the world that no, he wasn’t a fucking hero, because he would enjoy Shigarak’s  screaming—

 

     Midoriya shook his head, trying to keep his head in the game. Loosing control of his cool would actually make him a killer, and that would make him no better than Shigaraki.

 

       Kiki ~” He cooe