The café, now that Izuku was properly facing Karl, was suspicious. There was undeniably something to be said for meeting in a public place, where you could be covered by all the chatter and avoid looking suspicious – and in this case, Izuku wasn't really undercover. He was here as himself, talking to a member of a Quirkless charity. But there was something about the café, an air of…anticipation, maybe? Karl was treating it like friendly ground, given the way he relaxed, and it put Izuku on edge.
"I'm glad that you've come," Karl said, his smile genuine, "Although I regret that Akatani couldn't join you. I'm sure he must be struggling, with the loss of such a vital part of himself – but if he didn't want to come, there's no need to force him. Perhaps, in time, he'll decide that he wants to speak to us."
Izuku very much doubted that. If he had his way Akatani Mikumo would vanish shortly after the MLA was busted, and never reappear. Never get too attached to a secret identity. But he couldn't exactly say that aloud, not to Karl, so he just smiled ruefully.
"Truth be told," Izuku said, "I don't know if Akatani would be, you know, willing to speak to you at all. We don't hear much about the other classes, in the Hero classes, but when I was trying to find him a couple of people seemed worried about me speaking to him."
It would be nice if implying – strongly implying – that Akatani was a raging bigot would persuade Humarise to drop the topic outright. Izuku doubted that it would but hey. Something had to go right sometime, he was probably due a break. Karl sipped his coffee and nodded silently.
"It's unfortunate," he said, "But Humarise doesn't only exist to help people who would help us."
And wasn't that nice of them. Nothing, of course, to do with the fact that Akatani had mysteriously lost his Quirk and Humarise would be salivating to find out how. Better for everyone that they never found out: Izuku didn't want to even think of the unholy alliance that might result from Humarise deciding that Overhaul was their new best friend.
"It's a noble cause," Izuku said, "It really is, and I think he'd be glad to meet you. Just…not now, you know?"
Too suspicious, to tell them that Akatani would never want to meet them – and dangerous, too, to go even in disguise. His Akatani disguise was good but nothing was foolproof, and Izuku would prefer to never make any prolonged contact with anyone who knew both of his indentities. Too dangerous. Karl nodded soberly.
"Of course," he said, "I can't blame him at all. Still, you'll tell him that we're willing to speak whenever he's ready?"
Izuku nodded and Karl returned the gesture, seeming satisfied with that.
"Now," he said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk about you. I'd hate for you to think that we were only interested in speaking to Akatani."
Izuku didn't say that he might have preferred it that way, but he definitely thought it. He hid the thought behind a bland smile and a sip of his drink.
"Really? I'm nothing special, to be honest."
A little bit of false humility never hurt, and it brought Karl's smile back in full force.
"Nothing special, he says," the man said, "Nothing special. There's not many Quirkless people who make it into the UA Hero course, you know. That makes you special all on its own."
Izuku shrugged.
"Other people have managed it, and lasted longer," he said, "I've just had some bad luck and managed to keep on going."
"Exactly!" Karl said, putting his cup down to point at Izuku, "You've kept on going, no matter what! It's that, that resilience, that human spirit, that indomitable strength of will that predates Quirks by millions of years that we want to see. There's so many people who think that just because they were born without some gene they're lesser. You're living proof that those people are wrong. You're living proof that old Humanity isn't gone yet, and that's what we want to see."
Well, wasn't that uncomfortable.
"That's flattering," Izuku said, "But it doesn't tell me a lot, really. You want me to – what? For PR purposes? To be your own pet Hero? I'm not interested in wearing Humarise branding or giving long speeches. That's not what I'm in this for."
He put just a little bit of the harshness of Red Hood into his tone at the end, eyes narrowing on Karl. He didn't really think they wanted him as just a propaganda piece, but he didn't doubt that given the chance they'd use him as one. It would be perfect for them, their own special boy to wheel out and show everyone that Humarise really could create a future for the Quirkless. Dimly Izuku realised that he was letting his cynicism go a little too far, but screw it. Cults didn't get the benefit of the doubt.
"No, no, not at all," Karl said, "God, no. I know there are heroes who're easily swayed by some cash and fame, but that's not what we're looking for. There's no point in working with someone who doesn't have conviction."
Izuku gazed at him, weighing him up, and nodded.
"Alright, let's say I believe you," he said, "What do you want? There's not a lot I can offer, exactly, especially while I'm still a student."
"It's less about what you can do for us and more about what we can do for you," Karl said, regaining his balance, "We're not experts, obviously, but we know what it can be like for new Heroes. Endorsements, public appearances, the need to stand out before you end up a sidekick forever, we can try and help with all of that. You just being a Quirkless Hero will make our job easier. And who knows, maybe with your expertise we'll be able to give other Quirkless children the skills and the hope they need to follow in your footsteps?"
Hmm. Was Izuku comfortable, morally, with training a kiddie militia? Probably not, he regretfully concluded, even if it might be validating to have his very own Robin. And, really, he probably shouldn't be taking funding from Humarise if he wanted to remain squeaky clean in the eyes of the public and, more importantly, the HSPC. There were probably easier ways of gaining illicit funding, like running a smuggling ring in his spare time.
Not that he wanted to run a smuggling ring, no matter how much Hatsume whined about needing better materials. And no matter how much some of his classmates would be useful for it. Tsuyu, after all, would be the perfect choice for sneaking packages through naval patrols. Yaoyorozu too, maybe: her wealth and Creation Quirk could allow her to set up a business which could cover for more illicit deliveries, small and discreet and valuable.
Izuku resisted the urge to text them and ask if they wanted to make some money. That wasn't Heroic behaviour, probably. In fact, it could even be considered backsliding into villainy. He'd shelve it for the moment.
"I don't know about that," he said, entirely focusing, "It's a dangerous thing, being a Quirkless Hero. I know that better than anyone, right?"
"It's reasonable to think that way, right," Karl said, "And I don't blame you, but it was just a suggestion. We've only just met, I mean, there's no reason to make any promises!"
"Right," Izuku agreed, buying himself a moment by taking a sip of his drink, "Right. Well, I don't know about standing out, either. I'm not exactly a spotlight hero, you know."
"But you could be," Karl urged, leaning forwards, "The Top Ten, it's all about popularity. You've got the skills, no doubt, but you're the only representative of our people. How many millions of people in Japan are Quirkless, ten percent of the population? More, even? They'll be rooting for you, kid."
"I'm not interested in being a mascot," Izuku said, just a flash of Jason coming through in his rougher accent, the snap of anger in his voice. Karl recoiled this time, just a little. Good. It would do him good to be reminded that he wasn't talking to a wide-eyed preteen.
"I didn't-"
"That's what you were thinking," Izuku continued, bulldozing over Karl's protest, "Not that I can really blame you. There's plenty of Heroes who speak out on all kinds of causes, but a Quirkless hero just works so much better."
Karl frowned and looked aside. Izuku shrugged.
"I'm not offended," he said, "But let's not try to be nice about it. You don't really care about me, you care about your charity. You want attention, funding, whatever – that's why you're contacting me."
"That's a very cynical way to think," Karl said, looking back to Izuku, "Humarise is for all Quirkless. You're just as important to us as anyone else."
Izuku didn't roll his eyes, but it was close. Karl didn't seem to notice.
"However," Karl said, "You're right. From a purely transactional point of view, your presence in UA is good for us. You're not interested in our support, that's fine. But can we at least count on yours?"
"What exactly do you want?" Izuku asked. Karl shrugged.
"For a start," he said, "An interview. We've some journalists who are sympathetic, shall we say. If we can get you an interview with them it'll put you in the public eye. Your history, your struggles, that sort of thing. The difficulty of being Quirkless when the population is dwindling, especially in the city and away from Quirkless communities. A hope piece, you could call it."
Izuku considered. It probably wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't be great for Red Hood's secret identity, but that was probably blown already. And Izuku had to admit, even if Humarise was a weirdo cult it didn't mean they weren't doing anything good. It might even be nice to do something heroic that didn't involve punching, kicking, shooting, stabbing or otherwise injuring someone. It wasn't like other Heroes didn't speak out against discrimination or whatever.
"That doesn't sound too bad," Izuku said carefully. What was the saying – you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar? Izuku wondered which of the two of them was baiting a trap. Karl smiled, warm and open, and Izuku revised his estimate of the man. Maybe he was a better spy than Izuku had thought.
Maybe he wasn't a spy at all, and someone else was pulling the strings.
"I can do that," Izuku continued, thoughtfully, "And maybe I can talk to my teachers about some sort of…Hero hopeful day? It could be good for my entire class to do some work with the public. A gesture of solidarity between everyone."
Karl nodded, smiling now.
"Yes," he said, "I think we'd appreciate that. There are other groups similar to us, so we could get them involved. And UA backing would be very welcome."
Izuku wondered what Aizawa and Nedzu were saying right now. Aizawa probably wasn't saying anything good – Izuku respected his teacher, but he wasn't convinced that Aizawa even knew the meaning of public relations, never mind effectively work on them. Nedzu should see the value of networking, though.
"I'll try and see if that's something we can do, then," Izuku said, "And I'll try to talk to Akatani again. I don't think it'll do any good, but I'll see what I can do."
"That's all I want," Karl said, nodding, "Thank you. I know I can sound too pushy sometimes, but it's just…it's a dangerous world. Things have been better for a long time, especially with All Might around. He's brought peace, and he advocates for everyone. But he won't last forever. Things are going to get worse once he retires, and people like us need to stick together."
Karl nodded again, more determinedly this time. Izuku nodded in return, not really sure what to say. Better to say nothing, he decided, and get out of here with a reasonably good first impression made.
And then, just as Izuku was about to say goodbye and head out, someone literally crashed through the window.
Given the crazed laughter that followed, Izuku was going to guess that it hadn't been the result of a trip.
A man climbed in after the body, and the way he was shouting at the top of his lungs convinced Izuku that yeah, karma still had it out for him. He took a long breath, a longer sip of his coffee, and wondered if he could ignore it.
"You think you could take me?" demanded the man of the body, "Me? Don't you know who I am?"
Yeah, he probably couldn't ignore this. Izuku didn't know who either of them were, but the crowd should probably be doing a lot more panicked scattering than they currently were. God, he missed Gotham. Back there the civvies would be running for a dozen exits by now, not just sat watching as a probably maybe villain advanced on a probably maybe Hero. Izuku glanced around, taking in all of his options, and hissed a sigh through his teeth.
Why did this keep happening to him?
No, no, no time for moping because he needed to focus. There was supposed to be a Hero on watch to move in, probably Edgeshot – the guy who'd been thrown through the window was probably a Hero, but Izuku didn't recognise his lime green and yellow costume so he doubted that was his backup – but Izuku didn't know how long it would take them to get here. Half standing, Izuku did his best to look around without drawing any attention. Secret McAgent in the corner had dropped his paper and tensed, the way he was tilted making the gun hidden in his breast pocket blindingly obvious to Izuku, and Izuku really hoped that his cover wouldn't be blown by a completely different operation. The rest of the customers had frozen, although there was considerably less panic than Izuku might have expected, and Izuku slowly straightened while the probably villain laughed crazily.
"Okay," Izuku said, fairly quietly, before clearing his throat.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice loud in the quiet, "If you're going to have some kind of showdown with a fated rival, could you do it somewhere else?"
Dead silent. Izuku idly characterised it as shocked, probably at his audacity, and shrugged.
"Or, you know, consider that you've won and head on out? You've obviously taken down one guy, but there's usually more than one Hero around."
He considered.
"Actually, you usually can't turn a corner without running into a Hero of some description, so…"
Point of fact, Izuku himself was technically a Hero. If Secret McAgent was working for the HSPC, did that also make him a Hero? There was a semantical conversation to be had there, probably, but for the moment Izuku would have to assume that the man wouldn't be much use.
"Do you – foolish boy, don't you know who I am?" demanded the probably – no. No, the whole 'foolish boy' thing had solidified it pretty well in Izuku's mind, that man was a villain. And when a villain crashed into a café and started posturing and demanding if you knew who they were, there was only one thing to do.
Izuku shrugged.
"Haven't a clue, sorry."
Oh, yeah. That look of absolute bafflement, that look of outraged confusion, that was what Izuku lived for. That was perfection. The only way it could have been better was if he'd had his gun to hand, but this was good enough. The Hero on the ground rolled over and groaned. Izuku thought that it could maybe have been an order to run, but it was hard to tell. Ah well. The villain seemed to be getting over his shock, but if Izuku knew this kind of villain – and he was pretty sure that he did – they were going to get an announcement of his name and probably a harmless display of his powers before anything else.
"I am Spiracle!" the man announced, air blasting from tiny holes along his forearms and leaving dents in the walls, plaster cracking. Izuku tried not to be too smug about absolutely nailing his prediction, but it was hard.
"Spiracle," Izuku repeated, "Alright. So you're, you're a villain? I feel like that throw through the window had some history behind it, right? A rivalry?"
"Yes!" Spiracle said loudly, "Yes! He won't leave me alone! So what if I, if I snatch a couple of purses? So what if I take some stuff to enjoy myself now and again? He's always on my back!"
The hero on the ground groaned and rolled over slightly, one shaking hand reaching up.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he managed, "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know who you are."
"If you don't know who I am," Spiracle said, "Then why did you attack me? Why were you even here to stop me? You're lying, you're lying!"
The sudden rage, the spiral from confusion into screeching rage, took Izuku off guard. Spiracle stamped on the hero, yelling incoherently, and Izuku measured the distance between them with narrowed eyes. Too far to make a leap, but the Hero had curled in on himself and Spiracle's stamping was only superficially damaging. He had time, so long as he got Spiracle's attention again.
"Hey!" Izuku called, "Spiracle! If he passes out, how's he going to know that you've won?"
A bit risky but it worked: Spiracle abruptly stopped stamping and staggered back as though he didn't know what he was doing. He looked at Izuku, disregarded him, and cast a bulging-eyed glare around the room. Still no panic from the civilians, Izuku noticed.
"You're right," Spiracle said, "You're right, I should leave him alive. Leave him conscious, so he can see my victory! All those other Heroes, they'll come and they'll come and they'll fall before me! Before the might of Spiracle!"
Spiracle gestured dramatically, arms raised like he was a posing strongman.
Air burst again from Spiracle's forearms, from those tiny holes that Izuku noticed looked inflamed and painful. Almost as though…
"You've been taking something, haven't you?" Izuku said, carefully shuffling to the side so that he wasn't so in front of a bunch of innocent civilian targets. Spiracle abruptly stopped laughing and spun in place, whirling to face Izuku.
"What do you know?" he screeched. Mood swings. Bulging eyes. The damage to his arms – all likely symptoms of Trigger use. Low grade, probably contaminated with something. Great. Izuku lifted both hands into the air, fingers spread and doing his best to look harmless.
He felt like he pulled it off pretty well, actually.
"Hey, I'm not criticising," he said, "Everybody has their issues. Just that getting your Quirk all artificially fired up and then crashing into a café full of innocents is, you know, not cool."
If Izuku was reading the man right, the way he was staring was less startled realisation of his own wickedness and more baffled outrage that someone dared to tell him to cool it. Really needed to work on that whole de-escalation thing, Izuku thought. At least when he wasn't armed. Then again, if Izuku had been armed he would have already shot Spiracle in both shoulders and called it a day, but as it was…Izuku continued to take in the room, looking for anything that could give him an advantage. There were a lot of civilians, so he'd need to make it quick.
"I – what are you accusing me of? I don't use Trigger. I don't use Trigger!" Spiracle shouted at him, all but frothing at the mouth. Izuku highly doubted that, but then again – was it possible to mix Trigger with other drugs? There were definitely plenty of drug users around, so if their usual was getting contaminated with Trigger somehow that would be a bit of a concern.
But for the moment, Izuku had a frothing villain to deal with. Whether he'd taken Trigger intentionally or not was sort of irrelevant.
"Alright," Izuku said, trying for soothing and keeping his hands raised while looked for a way to take down Spiracle as quickly as possible, "I believe you. So what have you taken?"
Spiracle's face contorted into a look of bafflement and Izuku edged sideways, getting away from his table so he could better move. There weren't any people between him and Spiracle, just two empty tables, so he had a path. And Spiracle's Quirk didn't seem well suited for combat, he'd have to angle his arms strangely to target anyone in front of him. It would make fighting him in hand to hand harder though, every block a risk. Izuku wished for his gun.
"I don't take anything," he wailed, going from murderous to nearly on the edge of a breakdown. Yeah, like Izuku was going to believe that. It was fine. Jason had been capable of talking regular minions down, even if it wasn't a skill he used often. It couldn't be that hard.
"I believe you," Izuku said, advancing very slowly with his hands raised, "I really do. But I'm going to need you to calm down, alright? We'll get you the help you need, but we can't do that if you're attacking people."
Spiracle turned towards the doorway, where crowds were starting to gather – Izuku was absolutely certain that there was at least one Hero out there, because they were everywhere these days. Hopefully it wouldn't trigger Spiracle back into attacking, because if it did – Izuku took a couple of steps closer to Spiracle while the man was distracted. Spiracle turned back around, in a full circle that didn't seem to see Izuku.
"No, no, no, no," Spiracle chanted to himself, whispered really. Izuku could hear the thrum of panic in his voice, terror asserting itself. So, he'd taken something, gotten a hit of Trigger and gone out on a rampage and now that he was coming down he was seeing the repercussions coming and didn't want them. Not out of Jason's experience. So long as Spiracle didn't panic, Izuku thought, he could still talk him down.
"Vile villain!" announced a voice from outside, "How dare you attack a Hero! How dare you take hostages and keep them prisoner to defend your scurrilous self! Is there no end to your depravity?"
No. No, no, no. Izuku fervently hoped that the Hero outside, shouting through what sounded like a loudspeaker, would shut up because Spiracle had gone very still in a way that looked far, far too much like animal terror to Izuku. Fight or flight. And if Spiracle chose fight, which seemed pretty goddamn likely given the way he'd been acting earlier…
Spiracle took one slow, shaking step back, mumbling to himself. Izuku sneaked a glance past him, out the door, and saw that the Hero speaking was one he didn't recognise – new, maybe? The way that his costume included one of those stupid peaked caps did suggest Shiketsu, but it wasn't a certain thing. Some people did that for the aesthetic.
"Spiracle," Izuku said, "Don't listen to him. Just stay calm, and we can work this all out."
Spiracle stumbled back again, shaking his head.
"Work it out," he whispered, barely above a breath, "Work this out? You were – you were delaying me! You were stalling for him!"
"Just give it up, villain!" the Hero shouted, apparently completely unaware of even the basics of hostage negotiation, "Evil will never triumph! You'll never leave prison already, don't make it worse on yourself!"
If a piano landed on that man right now, Izuku would read his obituary with nothing but satisfaction. Why wasn't anybody shutting him up? Spiracle whirled on Izuku, bloodshot eyes wide and crazed and Izuku mournfully let go of his hopes of talking the man down.
"I won't go to prison," Spiracle said, whatever equilibrium he'd gained swallowed once again by manic intent, "I won't. I won't! You're just like him, just like him, you're all against me. You're all against me!"
And with that last ragged scream Spiracle dropped his left arm across his chest and air burst from the holes.
Izuku dropped to one knee as the lines of compressed air punched over his head, kicking off the moment Spiracle cried out and pulled his arm away, the attack obviously hurting him. The civilians in the café were finally moving, scattering towards the exits in a way that Izuku thought was practiced, almost rehearsed, but he didn't have time to reflect on it as he launched himself towards Spiracle. Leap onto the first table in front of him to draw Spiracle's eye, left hand snagging a chair and throwing it. Spiracle blocked it with his arms, wailing again as he stumbled back and Izuku kept going, dropping and sliding under the second table as Spiracle shouted something incoherent and launched another blast. Izuku slid under the table and bounded to his feet right in front of Spiracle, the flash of remorse at the panic on the man's expression easily repressed.
Three strikes with his left arm to Spiracle's right, deadening it and making it drop to his side. Grab the left wrist with his right hand, arm thin and weak under his fingers, twist so that the air-holes pointed up and down instead of at anyone, ignore the blast that dented the ceiling and the floor. Knee to the gut. Palm strike to the chin to stun, discombobulate. Let go of the wrist. Two nerve strikes to the neck with each hand, catch Spiracle as he crumbled, lay him gently on the floor.
Silence.
Karl and Secret McAgent stared at Izuku in silent shock and Izuku gave them a considering glance, looking for injuries. None that he could see, which was always good, but for the moment he distracted himself by putting Spiracle into the recovery position, just in case. Izuku took a moment to draw a deep breath, convince himself not to punch the loudmouth Hero as soon as he saw him.
"One of you, check on the Hero," Izuku ordered, patting Spiracle down for weapons, "He's the most likely to be injured. Was anyone else hurt?"
Karl came over, hurrying across to the Hero and kneeling down next to him.
"I've got first-aid training," he explained, "I don't think he's dangerously hurt, but he'll need a doctor. How is…Spiracle?"
"Not great," Izuku muttered, extracting a knife and a half-empty syringe from Spiracle's battered coat. He held the syringe gingerly in his left hand, eyeing the liquid inside with distaste before he stood and put the syringe and knife in the very centre of a table, well away from Spiracle. He was about to move to the door and try to convince the Hero and probably police outside to stop being stupid and bring in medical staff when a throat was cleared. Izuku whipped around to the door and saw a familiar figure there. He took a couple of quick steps closer, nodding.
"Edgeshot," he said, "Good to see you."
"We must stop meeting like this, Midoriya," Edgeshot said, quietly enough that nobody else could hear him, "What's the situation?"
"My guess is, he's a drug addict who got something a little stronger than he expected," Izuku said, "Symptoms of Trigger exposure are clear. The way he was acting, it seems like whatever he'd taken reacted badly and he had a psychotic break."
"Damn," Edgeshot muttered, "Overdose, then. Keep an eye on him while I get the medics," he finished, whipping to his feet and running to the front door. Izuku stayed with Spiracle, watching his breathing, although he took a moment to glance behind him. Karl was hurrying forwards again, with a first aid kit in hand this time, but the secret agent man was missing.
Izuku couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.
Once it was done, once Spiracle had been taken away and the police reports had been made and the civilians who'd stuck around had all been cleared to go Izuku said his goodbyes to Karl and headed out on his own. He needed to talk to Aizawa and Nedzu, go over what had happened, but for the moment he found himself needing a moment to think. Izuku wasn't that solitary by nature, but Jason had been. Sometimes, the urge to be alone was stronger.
It was hardly the time of day to go wandering across rooftops, being that it was still early afternoon and the sun was strong in the sky, but in some ways that was better. Easier to see him, but it meant that he was far less likely to run into any sort of trouble – and there was plenty of trouble to run into. Even discounting everything else Izuku knew that Shigaraki maintained a grudge, and while Stain wasn't as maniacal about it Izuku didn't doubt that the Hero Killer would take a chance for a rematch if he caught Izuku alone. Izuku was fairly certain that Stain was in the area, as well. Stain wasn't exactly subtle and Izuku still maintained a stash of notes that plotted the path Stain took as well as he could. Three kills or maimings and then Stain moved on, every time, regular as clockwork. Izuku's crazy conspiracy board for Shigaraki wasn't nearly so neat, which only lent credence to Izuku's certainty that All Might was correct and there was another hand behind Shigaraki.
Izuku found a way to the rooftops with ease, the cool wind tugging at his jacket and ruffling his already messy hair and he swiped at the top of his head in an attempt to tame it. A pointless attempt, it was never going to work, but there was supposedly some sort of value in making the effort. He could probably have made the jump to the next roof along, but for the moment he decided against it, preferring to just pace the rooftop in silence and think. He had plenty to think about, but for the moment he preferred to just let his mind settle, work through things in silence. Try to think about the question he'd been wondering for a while: if he was All For One, vile immortal, what would he do? What would he want?
Getting into the heads of villains was an important skill for any of the Bats. Jason hadn't been the best at it, but he did have the advantage of technically being one of those villains. So, what would Jason do? Shigaraki had been quiet recently, after a spate of attacks on Hero Agencies both MLA affiliated and not, but Izuku just felt that the time was right for him to re-emerge. But where?
"So," he said quietly, just loudly enough for his still active mic to pick up, "Shigaraki clearly has some sort of plan, and so does Overhaul. But are they working together because they have the same plan, or because they have the same enemies?"
The same enemies, Izuku suspected. Overhaul's plan wasn't one with room for equals. Or, well, the plan he'd talked about had plenty of room for equals, theoretically. Izuku really couldn't say that he trusted Overhaul to go with the actual plan, rather than keeping a clique of still Quirked minions around himself. In the kingdom of the blind, after all.
"If Shigaraki is working with Overhaul, he'll attack an MLA target," Izuku concluded after a few more moments of thought, "He's attacked Hero agencies, but there's more to the MLA than suborned Heroes. They must have revenue streams, and if Overhaul knows what those are then he'll want to hit the MLA where it really hurts, in the pockets. But if Shigaraki is trying to make a name for himself, following his past actions…he'll attack a high-value Hero. Probably one of the top ten, if he really wants to be dramatic. He's already gone after All Might, so…"
So Endeavour better watch his back, Izuku concluded. Endeavour wouldn't be an easy target, but if Shigaraki had access to a Nomu like he'd brought to the USJ it could get nasty. Endeavour had killed at least one weaker Nomu during the whole Stain Hosu thing though, so maybe Shigaraki would be wary of trying him.
Part of Izuku, the part of Jason that had started gang wars and planted bombs and always rather admired the artistry of Bane's plan that had ended with Bruce getting broken back, suggested that Endeavour would probably be vulnerable to a dosage of Fear Toxin and nothing would damage trust in Heroes like the number two hero going on a fear-fuelled rampage. He consoled himself with the thought that Fear Toxin didn't exist here, and it wouldn't unless Izuku lost his mind and decided to make it - and Izuku wasn't going to risk another Superman incident. That wouldn't be a risk. Couldn't be.
"You should be careful, you know," Edgeshot said, landing almost soundlessly behind Izuku, "I know you can take care of yourself but there's been rumours of a Stain copycat. Maybe even more than one, and I'm sure they'd like to kill one of the Heroes who escaped Stain in the past."
"Hopefully they don't know who I am under the helmet," Izuku said, "But I hadn't heard about any copycats?"
Edgeshot nodded.
"It's being kept quiet, but I got called in to one. Couple of days ago," he explained, "Messy. Stain's kills aren't exactly clean, but you can tell he uses a sword and aims for vital points. This one? Knife, definitely. Right in the torso, almost forty stab wounds."
"Jesus," Izuku said softly.
"I don't think he had anything to do with it," Edgeshot murmured, "The girl graduated all of about six months ago, new on the scene. Nothing impressive about her resume, no real reason for targeting her. Looked like the first couple of stabs killed her, the rest were just…"
"A frenzy," Izuku completed, staring down into the alleyways and streets below them. Edgeshot nodded.
"Got caught up in the killing. Might not be a copycat, I guess, but killing Heroes with bladed weapons in dark alleys is close enough to make me nervous."
"I'll be careful," Izuku promised, before grimacing, "Although I think I see a lot more babysitting in my future."
Edgeshot scoffed quietly.
"What, you don't like having someone hovering over your shoulder all the time?"
"Respectfully, sir," Izuku said, eyes idly tracking a figure hurrying down the street in a school uniform, "I think I'd rather be stabbed in a dark alleyway."
Maybe he should start wearing armour all the time. Just in case.
The debrief, if it could be called that, didn't take long. Izuku hadn't expected it to, all he'd been doing was making contact and that had worked fine, but he still got chastised for engaging Spiracle. He shrugged it off. It wasn't as though he could have done anything else, really, and neither Aizawa nor Nedzu seemed interested in making more than a brief reprimand for recklessness of it. When they were done it was nearly dark, but Aizawa hesitated when Izuku made to leave.
"Do you really think it was a coincidence?"
Izuku, caught halfway through a yawn by the question, hastily closed his mouth to cut it short. He shook his head, getting rid of the lingering yawn, and turned back.
"What, the raging Trigger-addict crashing through the window almost immediately after our friendly neighbourhood cultist recruiter had been talking about how everything's getting more dangerous and all of us powerless folk have to look out for each other? If that was a coincidence then I hope Karl bought a lottery ticket right after he left, because his luck is egregious."
Aizawa nodded silently.
"It was a set-up," he said, "Almost all of it. The crowd in the café was full of plants, right?"
"I don't know that they were plants," Izuku corrected carefully, "They didn't feel like spies. But they were friendly to Karl's opinions: the deck was stacked. The only one in there who was an actual spy was the guy who was one pair of dark sunglasses away from a starring role in Men In Black."
Aizawa's brow wrinkled at the reference, probably not getting it – Izuku searched his memory, realising that Men In Black hadn't had a new film for probably fifty years in this world.
"Old reference, sir," he said, "Don't worry about it. I mean, he looked really close to being a generic spy."
Izuku's guess was that he hadn't been there intentionally. He'd been tailing someone and accidentally ended up in the situation, and just thought it was interesting for a Quirkless Hero Student to be in that café. Not Izuku's favourite situation, but it wasn't too bad.
"That said, I don't know if it really was a set-up," Izuku said, thinking more about it, "Karl seemed genuinely shaken by it, and the crowd were acting less like they knew it was going to happen and more like they were just confident it would get dealt with. More than anything else, Spiracle himself isn't exactly a guided weapon."
"Agreed," Aizawa said, nodding, "Spiracle couldn't be in on it, he's spilled everything he knows and probably some things he doesn't. He's a small time criminal and a drug addict who woke up feeling stronger than normal and went out for revenge."
"It was pure bad luck that he ended up crashing the meeting," Izuku said, "Though it's not exactly reassuring that his normal drugs were laced with Trigger. That's…"
"What?"
Izuku shook his head for a moment, abruptly reminded of grim nights when Scarecrow had been testing out a new blend. Gotham had plenty of drug addicts and plenty of suppliers, but tainting the usual inflow…
"If I was testing out new variants of Trigger and how they interact with other drugs," Izuku said, "And I didn't care about who got hurt, there's worse ways to do it than just adding some to the usual supply. It'll get around to all sorts of people. So long as you can get a hold of the records, which wouldn't be too hard for someone who's got some connections…easy to see who gets hospitalised, who dies, who goes on a rampage. Adulterating drugs is nothing new."
"Right," Aizawa agreed. He seemed to mull something over before he cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Midoriya," he said, "I have someone that could be useful for you to meet. Not a Hero, but if you've the time…"
Izuku paused, considering. It wasn't too late, so it didn't take too long to make a quick call to his Mom and explain. She was worried, as ever, but she trusted him not to get into trouble. He didn't know if she should, but he was grateful nonetheless. Aizawa had stepped out while he talked, but now the man returned with a briefcase, containing Izuku's costume.
"Get your costume on, Midoriya," Aizawa said, thrusting the briefcase into Izuku's arms, "Our contact won't wait forever, and I don't want you wandering around in your civilian gear. You've replaced your helmet, right?"
Izuku nodded, taking his gear and retreating into a cubicle to change.
"Power Loader gave me access to his labs as thanks for dealing with his Hatsume problem a couple of days ago," he said, loud enough to be heard in the room outside, "So I used Hatsume's blueprints and made one myself."
And it was a nice helmet, if he did say so himself. Hatsume's designs were all well and good, but there was something about making your own gear that just hit differently. He quickly changed into his costume, the comforting weight of armour and weapons, and pulled on his new helmet before walking back out. Aizawa gave him a considering, judgemental look.
"The glowing lights are a little obvious," Aizawa said. Izuku, under the hood, smiled. One of the replacements he'd made to his helmet, altering the eyepieces so that they glowed a soft blue, even in the light. The fact that Aizawa didn't approve wasn't a surprise, but it was convincing proof that Aizawa hadn't accidentally caught some of Bruce's memories in the accident. Bruce, after all, knew the value of aesthetic. Izuku tapped at the helmet and, with a soft murmur of 'dim lights', the glow went out. Aizawa studied him and nodded.
"Still don't see the use of it."
"It's for when I have a smoke cover up, sir," Izuku said, "It's aesthetic, and it's menacing. It reduces the humanity."
"Hmm. If you say so."
Izuku did say so, and he knew from Jason's experience that it really did help. Humans were just hard-wired to react with fear to a pair of glowing eyes appearing out of the dark, something Bruce had always used to great effect. Of course, Bruce had always walked a fine line between terrifying apparition of the night and genuine superhero, the reason why so many of the Batsuits had tended towards lighter greys and blues rather than the dark grey and black it had eventually settled on. Izuku didn't think his own costume was likely to win any awards for being family friendly to begin with, so at least he didn't have to worry about any changes making him less approachable. Aizawa didn't say anything more, waiting until Izuku had finished checking his weapons and his armour was all in place before nodding.
"Come on, then," he said, "We don't have all night."
They took one of the UA cars – Izuku was starting to wonder if Aizawa had a car of his own – and headed through the quiet night streets. Aizawa said nothing as they drove, content to remain in silence, and Izuku mimicked him and kept an eye on the road. They were close to Izuku's home, he recognised, although not too near. Aizawa must have something important to show him, but he was content to wait and see. They left the car in a small and apparently dingy parking structure, although as they left Izuku eyed the cameras mounted unobtrusively in the corner and noted how new and well armoured it was. Izuku wasn't surprised when the concrete stairs up to the roof of the parking structure, despite the smell and the blackening of dirt, were solid and even underfoot. He was even less surprised when he saw that the roof gave easy access to the other roofs around.
"Out of interest, sir," Izuku said, "Who owns this?"
He tapped his foot on the roof to demonstrate. Aizawa hadn't pulled his scarf up yet, and Izuku caught a flash of a grin before Aizawa concealed it.
"Call it a good Samaritan," Aizawa grunted, "Now come on."
Probably some Hero affiliate, then. Izuku wondered if it was UA, or the HSPC, or if there was some other group that helped to fund the Underground Heroes. Maybe the Heroes owned a shell business that owned the building, even, it wouldn't be too strange. Either way, Izuku was more than happy to take the convenience as it came and follow Aizawa across the rooftops. It wasn't so far, but Aizawa moved quickly and it was good exercise. None of the leaps were long enough for Izuku to need his grappling hook, but he did make a mental note to take a grapple and go for a real run at some point. It could be fun. For the moment, though, Izuku sadly followed Aizawa over the easy jumps. The streets were quiet, as might have been expected, although the cities never really slept.
"It's quiet," Izuku said, getting a low growl of agreement before he continued, "Quieter than normal."
"The League of Villains attacks are making everyone frightened," Aizawa said, "People are staying off the streets until they know what's going on. The League going back underground hasn't helped."
"Everybody's wondering what's next," Izuku said, nodding. He got a hum again, as they jumped between two more rooftops.
"See the sign for the gym?" Aizawa asked, "That's where we're going. Close, now."
Izuku located the sign, fixing it in his mind, and kept going. They halted on the rooftop just above, and Izuke looked down. A gym, just like the sign said. It was tucked away off the street, slightly dingy, white lights fading to yellow and Izuku nodded to himself.
"We're meeting a vigilante then, sir?"
"What makes you say that?" Aizawa asked. Izuku recognised the tone as testing. Always testing. He shrugged.
"A gym is a good place for a vigilante to work during the day, especially if you own it," he said, "It's a good excuse for staying in shape and sometimes coming back beaten up, especially if you give the impression that you're part of the underground fighting scene. It's a business, so people aren't wondering what job you have and how you live. And lots of crooks and criminals go to the gym to work out and make deals in secret, so you get a good ear to the ground."
Aizawa was looking at him oddly so Izuku shrugged again.
"I won't ask how you know that," Aizawa said, "But close enough. How do you know it's a vigilante we're meeting and not a Hero?"
"If it was a Hero, sir, you would have asked them to meet us at UA," Izuku said, "And the gym would look a lot less shady."
Aizawa nodded.
"Good," he said, "Keep your wits about you. The man we've come to meet's on our side, but he's not the nicest person. He'll be useful, though, especially if Stain is sniffing around."
"You think Stain's here?" Izuku asked, "The path his attacks have taken suggest so, but…"
"I don't think he's playing us," Aizawa said, "But it's hard to catch one man who moves as much as Stain does. The guy we're coming to meet might know something more."
Ah, Izuku thought, the pronoun game. He suspected that Aizawa wanted to see if he knew who the vigilante was, in an echo of the identity test Aizawa had once given Shinsou. Izuku shrugged it off.
"If you say so, sir," Izuku said, following as Aizawa crossed the roof. Izuku tailed Aizawa, roof to roof until they were on top of the gym, looking for ways in other than the obvious. Some of the windows didn't look secure to Izuku, but professional paranoia reminded him that appearances could be deceptive. Put some traps behind those windows, who would ever know? Make your strengths appear to be your weaknesses, or whatever. The trap door on the roof, despite the name, wasn't actually trapped and Izuku and Aizawa dropped down into an unlit room. The pounding of fists against a sandbag echoed throughout the room.
"Rude to just drop in, Eraser," called a rough voice from below, "Didn't think you could sneak in, did you?"
Aizawa didn't reply, instead leaving the room and heading down a flight of open iron steps to the ground floor of the gym. Izuku shadowed him, eyes roving over the open area. A gym, just like he'd expected, grungy and grimy. Nostalgic. Even the massive man pummelling a bag reminded him somewhat of Gotham.
"Dragging kids around now, Eraser?" the big man asked, not stopping his punches as he glanced at them, "Never thought you'd pick a sidekick."
"Things change," Aizawa said, finishing his descent to ground level. The man stopped beating on the bag and turned around to face them, brushing his hands together, and looked directly at Izuku. Izuku looked right back at him, studying him. Assessing him.
A big man, in a heavy jacket and a bandanna with holes cut out for his eyes. He wore gloves, but Izuku could see the marks on the knuckles where he'd slammed his fists into people. From the slightest hitch in his gait, Izuku guessed that he was wearing a leg brace. Izuku didn't know everyone, but he'd heard a description of a vigilante which was very close to this man. Close enough that Izuku could guess.
"So you must be Knuckleduster," Izuku said, "I thought you'd retired after that whole thing with the Crawler a while back."
His tone was even, not as hostile as he might have liked, but he was still looking for weaknesses. The leg was obvious, but he didn't make the mistake of thinking that Knuckleduster hadn't already compensated for it.
"I'd heard you got injured enough to put you out of the game for good," Izuku said, his tone making it clear that he thought it was true. Knuckleduster looked directly at the glowing eyes of his helmet and grunted a laugh.
"Funny little kid you've got here, Eraser," he said, "You bringing to me because you want rid of him? 'Cause I gotta tell you, I'm not in the market for a meat shield."
A real charmer, this one. Izuku ignored the words, stepping back so that Aizawa could take over.
"We're here for information," Aizawa said, "I'm sure you've noticed that Trigger's hitting the streets, the League of Villains are heating up, and Stain's still around. You might not care about the League, but the others? You know something."
"Knowing things is overrated," Knuckleduster said, "It just gets you into trouble. If you're asking, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Stain since he was calling himself Stendhal. He took off after we fought and hasn't come back."
"You don't care that he's attacking Heroes?" Izuku asked, tone level. Knuckleduster made a dismissive noise.
"Stendhal wasn't big-leagues," he said, "Anyone who gets taken down by him deserves it. Dog eat dog world, kid. Sure a puppy like you wants to stay?"
Izuku just shrugged.
"Nobody lives forever," he said flatly, "And you're stalling. You know something, but you don't want to tell us. Something about Trigger?"
Aizawa folded his arms and tilted his head at Knuckleduster, both of them waiting. The staredown only lasted a minute before Knuckleduster finally shook his head. One side of his mouth, the side just under the vicious scar that ran up his cheek and under the bandanna, curled into a mocking expression.
"Might be I've got something for you," he said, "But it's past bedtime for little students. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble for Hero-ing without a licence."
Jason, Izuku reflected, used to shoot people who spoke to him like that. Jason had been a little touchy, in hindsight: it was only words. Still, that didn't mean that Izuku didn't delight in looking expectantly at Aizawa, who rolled his eyes.
"Actually," he said, "Midoriya's provisional licence came through a week or two ago. Under the direct supervision of a Hero, he's cleared for patrol and heroic activities."
Knuckleduster was, perhaps unsurprisingly, unruffled. Izuku, actually, was a little ruffled - he would have liked to know that before Aizawa used it as a gotcha, but he couldn't exactly make accusing eye contact with his mask on.
"Under direct supervision," Knuckleduster repeated, "Normally a provisional gives permission to act without supervision. What, your little ankle-biter here couldn't pass the exam? Bit of nepotism, Eraser?"
"The rest of his class aren't taking the exam, can't exactly send him in alone," Aizawa said, sounding bored, "His skills have uses, so he gets a pass. Didn't think you cared about that sort of thing though. You didn't seem to care with the Crawler."
"Crawler was older," Knuckleduster grumbled, although Izuku was fairly sure that wasn't true. Knuckleduster looked at Izuku again, sizing him up, and took a step closer.
"Crawler was older," the vigilante repeated, "And he knew what he was about. Your kid here, coddled Hero kid, what's he know about anything? If we take him along and he fucks up it could cost both of us big-time."
"I'd be more worried about you fucking up," Izuku said abruptly, temper flaring slightly, "Don't think I can't see that leg brace you're wearing. Can you even run anymore?"
"Oh, I can move all I want, gremlin," Knuckleduster said, still smiling that mocking smile, "Don't think I don't appreciate you having the guts to talk back, but I've been in this game for a while. I've seen a lot of confident punks end up maimed or dead. You sure you won't be one of them?"
"Only one way to find out," Aizawa interrupted, "You're telling us that you've got a lead on some Trigger?"
Knuckleduster gave Izuku a taunting grin, but replied to Aizawa.
"Sure do, Eraser," he said, "Not usual dealers, either. Apparently there's some kinda free testing going on, not too far away. I was going to bust it up later, but if you're really itching for some action I guess I can take you along."
Izuku didn't need to look back at Aizawa to know that his teacher was wearing an expression of pure sarcasm. Knuckleduster snorted.
"Well, come on then," he said, "And try to keep up."
Izuku kept up. Knuckleduster wasn't slow, but his talk about being unaffected by his leg injury was just that, talk. He moved better than a civilian probably would, but the injury still slowed him down and only an idiot would deny it. Knuckleduster didn't draw any attention to it, however, moving relentlessly on, so Izuku remained quiet. Let the old man burn himself out, and then someone would get to say 'I told you so' and maybe get through to him. It hadn't worked with Bruce, but Bruce had been special. And Izuku didn't say that as a compliment.
"Usually I don't bother with this kinda shit," Knuckleduster said, "Yeah, yeah Trigger's dangerous – but the dipshits who're taking it aren't. They'll take some low quality shit, get their Quirks at the average level of a newbie Hero Student for about ten minutes and go about their day. But if it gets you two off my back, you can have them."
Silence. Knuckleduster scoffed quietly.
"But of course, you don't want some low-life dealers," he said, "You want the big guys at the top, don't you? Makes sense, you take down the dealers and there's more on the streets tomorrow. But take out the whole ring and you might even get a whole week before a new one starts up."
Cynical. Izuku could see why Knuckleduster and Aizawa worked together.
"Not even that," Aizawa said, although quietly, "The number of Trigger incidents have been rising. If it's something like the Villain Factory, we need to head it off immediately. With samples of Trigger from multiple dealers we can tell if it's all from one source, or a coincidence."
"It's never a coincidence," Knuckleduster growled, while Izuku was still wondering what the Villain Factory was, "But you've got a point. So, what, we rough up the dealers and take what they have for testing? It'll tip our hand."
Aizawa and Izuku made the jump across another gap, landing soundlessly. Knuckleduster landed more heavily, but still quietly.
"Depends on what they're doing," Aizawa said, "I'm not that recognisable without the scarf. I've got enough cash."
"Sting operation, huh?" Knuckleduster said, "Sure you're just not interested in seeing how that shit works with your Quirk? I bet your shadow'd like to see where his Quirk can go."
Aizawa didn't reply, maybe showing a consideration for giving away Izuku's secrets, but Izuku didn't much care about it.
"Having a Quirk would be news to me," Izuku said, and he could feel Knuckleduster's stare on the back of his head. The big vigilante didn't say anything immediately, but a jump or two later he finally spoke.
"A Quirkless kid, huh?" he said, "Natural?"
"Is there any other kind?" Izuku asked, tone casual. Knuckleduster gave him a quick, hard look, narrow-eyed and searching and Izuku knew. He knew about All For One, Izuku thought, had maybe even lost his Quirk to him. But he didn't ask: Izuku could guess that Knuckleduster wouldn't respond kindly to it. Knuckleduster shrugged.
"You tell me, kid," he grumbled, "You tell me. So there's not much risk that Eraser just wants to dose up and test out his Quirk, since even if he does we can take him down."
"Debateable," Aizawa said quietly, a rare show of offence. Knuckleduster chuckled.
"Sure you're no pushover," he said, "But you wouldn't have brought the kid if he didn't know his way around a fight, and the two of us against one of you, no Quirks possible? I'd take those odds."
"So long as the Trigger didn't make his Quirk more powerful, anyway," Izuku idly said, "If it makes it work better on Quirks, fine. If it makes it interfere with skills, maybe motor skills? That'd be more of a problem."
They made the next jump in silence, considering that.
"Say, Eraser," Knuckleduster said, "Why don't we find out-"
"I'm not taking Trigger to satisfy your intellectual curiosity."
"Boring," Knuckleduster said, just slightly taunting, but Aizawa didn't rise to the bait and soon they'd stopped, with Knuckleduster in the lead again.
"You see the apartment building ahead?" he asked, getting two nods, "Dealers live in there. They do it in the basement, from what I hear. No code, you just ask for Shake."
Nicknames, too. Nice. Izuku eyed the building, tapping at his helmet to activate the night sight, and breathed out a soft sigh.
"Hood?" Aizawa asked. Izuku pointed.
"Open window, sir, probably for the basement. I can get in, but it's too small for you."
Aizawa nodded, following Izuku's gesture and seeing the window.
"I'll go in, you go through the window and take a look around," he decided, "Knuckleduster, you'll have to stay outside. You're too recognisable. Hood, don't do anything stupid. If you think there's danger, just leave."
"And you aren't, with that daft scarf? At least the kid can take his helmet off," Knuckleduster said, before shrugging out of his coat and holding it out to Aizawa, "Here. I'll hold your scarf."
Aizawa studied him before nodding, making the swap. The three of them made their way down to ground level, hiding in the shadows of the street, and Knuckleduster pointed.
"I'll hang on over the street," he said, "Better view. You go in from the front, and your minion…"
And Izuku stepped into the alleyway shadows, to the vent, blending in like he'd been doing it all his life. Knuckleduster looked around for him, twitching when he couldn't see anything.
"What the fuck?" he whispered, "Eraser, your ankle-biter's gone."
"He'll be fine."
"Fuck does that mean, he'll be fine? He's like eleven."
"He's fifteen. He'll be fine, he knows what he's doing."
"Eraser, that doesn't make me feel any better-"
Izuku, safely in the shadows, rolled his eyes as he reached up towards the window. Knuckleduster made a quiet noise of realisation, probably because he'd seen him, but Izuku ignored it as he carefully peeked through the window to make sure there was nothing inside and eased it fully open. The window was tiny, too small for Aizawa, but Izuku was still small enough that he could fit fairly easily. He was still careful, hunching his shoulders and tucking in his limbs, but he slid in easily enough. It wasn't the easiest trip, but he managed to wriggle headfirst through the window, twisting around to hook his legs over the window so that he was upside down and could plant both hands on the ground inside, slithering in without a sound. He tapped his helmet, making sure it was muted before he spoke.
"Looks like a laundry room," he said, in barely a whisper. Aizawa would hear him through the miniscule communicator he wore, but Knuckleduster would unfortunately have to do without. Still, Aizawa would do. Izuku crept through the washing and drying machines that packed the small room, prowling over to the door and pressing himself against it, listening intently. A low murmur of voices, but not close so he delicately turned the door handle and slid it open.
"Nothing in here," Izuku said softly, "Looks like just another basement."
He padded around the rooms, empty and quiet, looking for anything. He wasn't sure what he was looking for – a lab, maybe, or a stash of Trigger, but it wasn't here. He kept his ears open, trying to track anyone else near by hearing, until he found a door that had light shining around the edges. An actual occupied room, Izuku thought, and he hunkered down next to the door to listen. It was ajar, making it easier, but the gap that he could see through was barely worth the name.
"Careful with this," a deep voice said, "Stronger than the usual Trigger."
"Just what I like to hear. Good doing business with you," said a second voice, not as deep, and Izuku risked nudging the door open just a little more to see the speaker. His helmet was recording, so he'd be able to look over it afterwards, but the men doing business were nothing special. Nondescript was the word, Izuku thought, watching the probably dealer hand over a bag of powder. Strange, he thought, Trigger was normally an injected liquid. Why powder? A new version? Izuku barely listened to the conversation as Aizawa entered and spoke to the dealer, but he did take in one thing: the man was selling regular liquid Trigger.
So what was the powder? Maybe it was nothing, but maybe…
"I can't find any lab or stash," Izuku said, "I'm going to head back out to Knuckleduster."
Aizawa didn't give an indication that he'd heard, but of course he wouldn't while undercover so Izuku backed away from the door and quickly returned to the window, crawling back through and into the alleyway. Aizawa was still busy and Knuckleduster was nowhere to be seen, gone somewhere. Not ideal, but it couldn't be helped. Izuku would find him in a minute.
Helmet off and tucked into a shadowed corner, hair smoothed back with a single hand as he zipped up his jacket to hide the armour and Izuku was quickly out into the street, pulling his hood up as he went to shadow his features and hide his hair. The man who'd bought the first load, the drugs that had been in a packet rather than a syringe, was already on his way out. Trying to arrest him wouldn't be the best idea, given that Aizawa and Knuckleduster wanted to wait and set up a better sting operation. Getting the drugs off him, however…
Izuku sped up, just enough that when he emerged from the alleyway he'd slipped into at half a jog he crashed right into the man. They both went stumbling, Izuku staggering into the man and ignoring his curses.
"Sorry, sorry," Izuku slurred, even as his hands danced through pockets, light as a feather and smooth as a magic trick, "Didn't see you there, man. Hey, I…uh…you haven't got any of the good stuff, have you?"
The man, as expected, shoved Izuku hard enough that he hit the wall and slid down it. More scrapes on his jacket, Izuku thought sadly, but the man hadn't noticed his missing wallet or his missing drugs and the accent Izuku had put on had come out perfectly.
"Fucking druggie," the man snarled, "Watch yourself!"
"Oh," Izuku said, raising his now empty hands in a disarming gesture, "S – sorry man. Really didn't see you, sorry. Hey, I – if you want some stuff, you know, I know some people-"
The man kicked at him, missing as Izuku fell over sideways, and stormed away with a snarl. Izuku allowed himself a single self-satisfied grin before he heaved himself up and returned to his helmet.
"It's not nice to shout at people like that," Izuku murmured, ghosting away into the shadows, "But people just don't learn."
And if they never did learn, that was just fine by Izuku. Stupid villains were just fine by him, but in case the guy turned out less stupid than he seemed Izuku returned to the rooftops, letting Aizawa know. Knuckleduster came over the roof a moment later, shaking one hand out, and Izuku eyed him warily.
"Where've you been?" he asked, keeping his expression neutral even as his hand itched for his gun. Knuckleduster looked over to him.
"Mugging," he said, "Just across the street. Some girl, although she was doing a decent job already. Even caught me with the knife she was swinging."
Izuku shook his head, although Knuckleduster seemed more amused than hurt. Aizawa swung onto the roof a moment later, landing softly and directing a glare at them both. Izuku sized up the glare, categorised it as checking that they were both intact, and left it alone.
"You get what you were after, Eraser?" Knuckleduster drawled, tossing the scarf back. Aizawa shed the coat and caught his scarf with one hand, the garment wrapping around his forearm like a live thing.
"I got it," he said, "Looked like the guy before me had something else, though. Did you see it, Midoriya?"
Ah. Well then.
"Actually, sir," Izuku said, "I did more than get a look at it. It was powder, in a bag. I wanted to know what was different about it so I hurried back out, ran into him. He didn't notice when I picked his pockets."
Aizawa gave him a look, suddenly even sharper than before, assessing.
"Your coat's zipped up," he said, "Your helmet?"
"I left it in the alleyway and put my hood up," Izuku explained, "It was a risk, but I got the powder. And his wallet."
Izuku pulled both of them out, handing the bag over and weighing the wallet.
"Heavy," he noted. Knuckleduster held out a hand and Izuku threw him the wallet, watching as he popped it open to take a look.
"Lot of cash in here, Eraser," Knuckleduster said, "Lot of cash. Someone was up to something."
He looked at Izuku, expression considering, before it split into a wide grin.
"You devious little bastard," he said, admiringly, "You know what, Aizawa? Your gremlin here might not be that bad. You ever get thrown out of UA, kid, I'll take you on as an apprentice."
And wasn't that just a glowing review, Izuku thought, his thoughts matching Aizawa's if the way Aizawa rolled his eyes was any indication. Still. He'd take what he could get.
"Reckless, Midoriya," Aizawa said, "But good work all the same."
Well. Like Izuku had said, he'd take what he could get.