Chapter 2: The beginning
Running from muggers through the streets of Musutafu was not exactly the way Izuku planned on spending their day, but fate seemed determined to screw them over. 'Wouldn't be the first time'.
How did a simple dumpster dive end up like this? Oh right, the three buffoons chasing them had decided that mugging Kubo-San would be a good idea. Seriously, what kind of jackass do you have to be to rob an elderly woman who spent her days volunteering at the local soup kitchen!?
And of course Izuku couldn't just keep their head down, no, they had to jump in and try to stop them. 'I guess old habits die hard' they thought as they ran down filth alleyways, jumping on dumpsters and climbing rusted out fire escapes that creaked ominously with every step, following escape routes memorized long ago. The thugs, however, could not keep up, 'they must be new' Izuku mused to themself, as they lost their pursuers within five minutes. They sighed as they headed through memory filled alleyways, amusing themself by imagining how annoyed those thugs must be that a nine-year-old had outrun them.
Eventually they reached an abandoned warehouse that, on the outside at least, looked abandoned, rusted roofing, worn down walls, in fact the only sign that the place had ever been functioning was a half-torn sign that designated the place as storage for a long since bankrupt mechanics company. Opening the door they walked into what had been their home for the past five years.
They stashed whatever scavenged supplies that had survived the trip into cupboards that were probably about to fall apart. They didn't change out of the grimy clothes, too mentally exhausted to even bother. They ate some stale bread that was about to go bad, carefully tearing out the mouldy bits and some of the canned tuna they'd managed to snag from the local grocery store, wrinkling their nose at the smell, it was probably fine. They dug around in their backpack, a bright yellow thing with more stitching and tears than intact fabric, was it obvious and recognizable and not at all great for sneaking around? Yeah, they'd gotten caught stealing on multiple occasions because the thing attracted attention, that doesn't mean they're going to get rid of it though. After all, Inko (because she was always Inko now, never Momma) had gotten it for them back when Izuku was still her child. Maybe they're sentimental for wanting to remember the times before their diagnosis, but it was the one thing about their old life they couldn't part with.
Shaking themselves out of their thoughts, Izuku fished out a worn notebook labeled "Analysis #8" in neat handwriting, the books used to be called Hero Analysis for the Future, but they'd long since lost hope for that dream to ever come true deep down they still held on.
Izuku flopped down on the nest of moth-eaten blankets and raggedy pillows they called a bed, clicked their pen, and started writing up an analysis on a new hero that debuted last week, a lady with a mutation quirk that gave her the traits of a rabbit, she called herself Miruko. Izuku sat there, writing away in the kind of half aware state that comes from extreme focus. Before they knew it, it was getting dark outside.
Izuku flopped down on the blankets, contemplating not going out tonight since they were already sore from the chase that afternoon. Bu eventually the allure of the fresh night air was too much to resist. Izuku quickly threw on a dark green hoodie that covered their iconic curly hair and a black face mask to hide their freckles. Pocketing some pepper spray and a butterfly knife they had stolen permanently borrowed from a mugger. Finally they grabbed their staff (it was literally the pole of some street sign) and set off into the night.
Running across the rooftops of Musatafu was exhilarating, Izuku had initially started free running to distract from the nightmares they knew would greet them if the slept to get rid of excess energy from the day, and besides, it was good practice for running from bullies. Their legs pounding on the concrete of the roofs while their steps were almost silent. The only thing that could make people notice them was their bright red quirkless shoes.
They had never liked those shoes, but it's not like there were other options. No. The brand that made the specialty shoes that quirkless people needed due to their extra pinky joint specifically made the shoes as noticeable as possible, so that everyone knew when they saw a quirkless person, knew when they saw someone lesser. Of course, thanks to the low population of quirkless nowadays (most of that twenty percent were in their eighties) there were a lot of people who actually didn't recognise the shoes. Most of the ones that did were either quirkless themselves or knew a quirkless person. Izuku was sure that they could probably make themselves a different coloured pair of shoes, but they didn't have the materials, nor the skills to do so.
A scream for help jolted Izuku out of their musings. Running to where they'd heard it they saw a small woman being cornered by two thugs.
"Listen here lady, no-one's gonna come save you, not in this part of town, just give us the money and no-one gets hurt".
Izuku quickly took stock of the quirks at play, 'okay, the first guy's got horns of some kind, plus hooves, likely some kind of bull mutation, likely coupled with enhanced strength, maybe poor eyesight as well? Oh yeah he's squinting, I can work with that. Second guy doesn't have any obvious mutations so I should be more careful since I don't know what his quir- oh never mind his nails just turned into needles, okay, so, stay out of grabbing range for the needle guy, and see if I can trick the bull guy into running into a wall or something'.
With that plan solidly set Izuku jumped down in front of the lady, using their staff to block a hit from the needle guy, "ma'am you should probably run" they said as they started dodging the two thugs, they couldn't rely on one hit knocking either of the guys out, they might be fast and stealthy but their offence is certainly something they don't get opportunities to practice. Besides, quirkless people shouldn't be able to fight back, they were weak, Izuku was weak.
Eventually the needle guy got a bit too close for comfort and Izuku reflexively swung with their staff, hitting the guy right in the groin. He screamed and writhed on the ground. Quickly knocking him out Izuku then focused on the bull guy, as suspected he'd been having a lot of trouble hitting them due to poor eyesight, so Izuku decided to play matador and lead the guy around until he got really mad and charged. Izuku dodged just before impact and the bull guy crashed right into the wall causing him to fall backwards, unconscious.
Izuku pulled a bunch of zip-ties from their pocket and tied the two unconscious thugs to the handle of a nearby dumpster, wrote their sticky note, explaining what exactly happened before scurrying up the fire escape and disappearing before the cops actually showed up.
Honestly, becoming a vigilante was an accident, really, it sounds ridiculous but they genuinely didn't realise what they were doing until they saw a newspaper calling them one. They just wanted to do some free-running, it just so happened that people tend to commit crimes at night, and Izuku being Izuku, they intervened every time they saw or heard a crime being committed. They just hoped no-one sent any heroes after them.
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Wraith is what they were called, several cops and civilians making reference to their tendency to disappear into the night like a ghost. Their only identifiers were a green hoodie, red shoes and a metal staff strapped to their back. Always neat and tidy in their takedowns and often the only sign that they'd been there being a small sticky note attached to the tied-up criminals listing what their crimes were.
Of course, this was none of Shouta's business, or at least it wasn't until Tsukauchi contacted him about finding the vigilante and bringing them in. Truth be told, Shouta didn't have a major issue with vigilantes unlike most limelight heroes. As long as they were decent human beings genuinely out to help people Shouta left them alone or even worked with them occasionally. So really, he didn't know why it was him specifically that the detective had requested, but oh well, there was nothing he could do about it.
Of course actually finding them was the tough part, between juggling regular hero work, his new job at U.A (Honestly, why on earth his homeroom teacher turned principal thought it would be a good idea to hire him of all people Shouta didn't know, but that rat was sadistic enough where this was likely some kind of cruel test) not to mention the general energy that was required to be in the same social group as Nemuri and Hizashi, the underground hero barely had time to look over the case and its very limited information. So if Shouta started drinking more coffee, staying up later and generally being grumpier than normal, well, only his husband needed to know.
"MORNING SHOU!!!!" speak of the devil.
Yamada Hizashi, otherwise known as Present Mic, danced (literally danced) into the kitchen where Shouta was drinking coffee straight from the pot and started making breakfast, humming to himself all the while 'seriously, how does he have so much energy, its six in the morning'
"Morning Zashi" he replied tiredly
"Hey! What's with the extra grumpy face?".
Now, don't get him wrong, Shouta loved his husband, but every once in a while he just wants Hizashi to shut the fuck up. Shouta sighed, knowing he'd have to give an answer at some point "It's nothing Sunshine, there's just this new vigilante on the streets and Tsukauchi wants me to investigate"
"Oh? well what'cha got so far?" Hizashi was looking over Shouta's shoulder at the file in his hand. The file in question was Wraith's latest arrest, two drug dealers who claimed that they were just doing a regular deal when a "little demon thing" appeared out of nowhere and knocked them both out. So little information meant that anything useful would have to be found by Shouta himself, and the patterns of arrests showed that either Wraith had a lot of patrol routes and regularly switched them up, or they had no set patrol route. Shouta was really hoping it was the first option because tracking down someone who had no definable pattern was always hell.
"They have red shoes."
"And?"
"That's it, that's all anyone knows for certain, anything else, age, quirk, fighting style? Nothing." Shouta waved the file at Hizashi as if it would magically give him more answers. Unfortunately it was uncooperative.
"Oh" Hizashi read through the file as well "no wonder they want you on this case, they need someone to track Wraith down"
"Yeah, but between this and teaching" Shouta shook his head "how the hell do you manage three jobs?" he asked enviously, "seriously, you've been juggling hero work your show and teaching for a whole year now".
Instead of offering any answers Hizashi just laughed "you know me dear, I never could just relax! Now hurry up and get your hero costume, we're gonna be late to work, I want to actually introduce you to the other staff this time, its been a week and you haven't even tried talking to them!"
Shouta scowled at the thought, he really didn't need to know the staff, there was a reason he his in the vents the entire week instead of staying in the teachers lounge, the other teachers, whoever they were, are loud, the only teacher he interacted with regularly was Kan, since they're the homeroom teachers for the two heroics courses, the other undergrounder was enough of a nuisance during patrol, and it seemed their rivalry had bled over into their teaching.
Hizashi apparently was not going to wait for Shouta to finish his coffee and dragged him out to the car "come on, you can review the case later, last time I was late Nezu threatened to give me everyone else's paperwork for a week."
Shouta huffed in amusement at that, of course the rat satan would do something like that. And Hizashi was right, he could figure out more of the case on patrol tonight, it's not like Wraith would just show up and introduce themself after all, right?
Chapter 3: School Rules™
Izuku sighed as they used a napkin to scrub at their desk, the hateful words and slurs scrawled across it felt like needles turning their heart into a pin cushion. Their classmates quietly giggled in the background, some gathering up the courage to make snide comments at them. Bakugo (not Kachan, not after everything) seemed to be especially angry, for some reason, Izuku wasn't sure, they hadn't done anything to piss him off lately had they? Oh well, they'd find out during lunch at least. Maybe there was a new rule they hadn't learned?.
The rules were never told to them, at least not directly.
The first one they learned was when they were five, it was the easiest. No muttering. After the fifth time Izuku had gotten slapped for their creepy muttering it wasn't creepy they'd learned their lesson.
The second was learned when they were seven. Never get a test score above seventy. This one took a bit more experimenting, after Izuku got reprimanded for cheating they didn't cheat they tried to avoid cheating again, the teacher again told them they were cheating when they got ninety-seven on their next test. "There's no way a thing like you could get mark like this without cheating" thats what Maki-sensei said the third time it happened. And Izuku believed her, after all, if she was wrong someone would have said something, right? After that they made sure to mark answers wrong, just enough to pass, and certainly never above a seventy
The third and fourth rules were learned together. Always let them hit you, and never spread rumours. It was when they had gotten a cold and been really sick, because of that Izuku's brain to mouth filter had disappeared. Bakugo had tried to blast them but they had dodged out of the way, and when the teacher asked what happened, Izuku told the truth lied and said that Bakugo had attacked them. Later that day Bakugo and his friends cornered Izuku outside of school and gave them a beating that was ten times worse than they had ever gotten. After that Izuku always let people hit them, or it would be worse later.
Of course, Izuku had made sure to follow those rules to a T, so why was Bakugo so mad at them? They mused as the walked towards the cafeteria, making sure to trip over the outstretched leg that one of the other students had shoved in their path 'rule three'. Izuku went through the familiar routine of getting their food, making sure the food didn't get thrownfall onto the floor, and then sneaking their way to the rooftop where nobody would bother them, it was their moment of peace. A moment where Izuku could let themself believe that they were just a normal kid, and everything was okay (if they usually spent most of that time crying then only they would know). But today, that moment of peace was interrupted.
'Worthless, that's all you'll ever be' the unsolicited thought creeped through Izuku's head like venom 'maybe you should just-',. No. Nope, not in a million years, Izuku might believe that they are weak, and they might have almost given up on being a hero, but they still valued their life, right?. Then again, people who run around at night being a vigilante (and wasn't that odd, that people actually considered them dangerous enough to be called that) probably aren't the picture of mental health.
The warning bell rang as Izuku was startled out of their musings by the terror of being late, last time that had happened Maki-sensei had tried to call Inko, she almost managed it as well, but Izuku somehow managed to convince her that Inko was at work and shouldn't be bothered with a useless Deku (they had mentally cringed while saying that). Izuku didn't know what their parents would do if they ever had to deal with them again, but they knew it wasn't good. And they knew Inko hadn't said a word to the Bakugos either, considering that the explosive blonde had never used it to mock them.
Even from outside of the classroom door Izuku could hear the snickers of their classmates. They took a deep breath before opening the door, knowing what was awaiting them. As they stepped in their eyes slowly trailed to their desk. A bouquet of spider lilies sat there, taunting them, telling them that they shouldn't exist. Izuku simply picked it up and threw it out of the window.
Class was boring as usual, Izuku didn't exactly know why, perhaps it was because they were too stupid to understand the materials they'd memorised the entire textbook by now. Maki-sensei droned on and on about physics, it seemed like even she didn't want to be here, and she kept sending thinly veiled glares at Izuku throughout the lesson, even stifling a laugh (their classmates weren't so polite) when Mizukami used his quirk to throw water at their notebook, leaving them to try and salvage the notes they'd taken. 'Of course, everyone laugh at the quirkless kid' Izuku thought bitterly before snapping themself out of their thoughts wondering how on earth they had gotten it into their head that they could think so disrespectfully about their classmates they were right to feel bitter, after everything that's been done to them.
As the bell rang Izuku immediately ran out of the classroom, the sounds of explosions quickly followed by a yell of "Deku!" as Bakugo chased them down the hallway. Izuku knew that he'd catch up, that they would let him catch them get caught. If he didn't, Izuku would get beaten black and blue the next day. So they stood there as he let off explosion after explosion, burning clothes and skin and hair. Izuku knew those would scar later, they had so, so many, across their shoulders and back, as well as a few on their chest. Starburst, line and patch shaped scars covered their body from various classmates and sometimes teachers, whether caused by quirks or sharp pieces of wire and other improvised weapons. The blooming pain across their back was nothing new, in fact Izuku barely even felt it, thank goodness for their high pain tolerance. However their lack of reaction seemed to infuriate Bakugo.
"Oi Deku! Aren't you gonna cry? Are you trying to act tough? Huh? You think you're better than me!" he yelled as he continued beating Izuku. There was more yelling but Izuku couldn't hear, their thoughts spiralling as the outside world became duller. At some point Bakugo had seemingly gotten bored and left, Izuku didn't know when, or how long afterwards that they had just laid on the ground, staring up at nothing, they're pretty sure some other classmates kicked them sometime. They didn't move for a while, until some stray cat started sniffing at them, perhaps to see if they were edible.
Perhaps mercifully they didn't find any trouble on the way back, limping back to their warehouse, ignoring the odd looks they got from strangers on the street. Izuku supposed no-one in their right mind would try and mug the kid who's clearly been beaten up already, nothing of value there. Their backpack had a new hole in it that they'd have to patch up when they got to the warehouse, and their uniform were burned in a lot of places, luckily they weren't completely noticeable, Bakugo's quirk still not being strong enough to fully burn a hole into the cloth, only on closer inspection would one find tiny pockmarked holes over patches of burned skin. Izuku shuddered to think of the damage he would be able to do if he continued to grow stronger, maybe even as much as a real bomb. 'If he blew someone up would there be bleeding everywhere or would they just be cooked meat? Actually there wouldn't be any blood, the wounds would be cauterised. If he trained enough maybe he could use his explosions to make himself faster, if he just aimed behind him. If he aimed down would he be able to fly?' they continued analysing the possibilities of Bakugo's quirk, it's not that difficult of course, the upside of being forced to interact with him and his quirk on a daily basis they supposed, in fact they had done this analysis hundreds of times over, some questions were still unanswered, like the flight one, but it was a good way to occupy their thoughts while their brain was on autopilot as they followed the familiar alleyways back to their warehouse.
Once inside Izuku went over to the cabinet where they kept the medical supplies, it was mostly burn cream of course, and a small box with a singly roll of bandages and a needle. Luckily they hadn't had to stitch up any wounds lately since their last bit of suture had run out months ago and they hadn't had the opportunity to steal more. Quickly tending to their wounds Izuku sighed as they weighed the idea of skipping patrol that night. On the one hand not going out meant that Izuku would have to deal with the nightmares sleep more than two hours or loose their mind of boredom, on the other hand, they didn't want to risk getting themselves killed because they couldn't run properly. In the end, the option of not risking death won out, so Izuku changed out of uniform and into something cosier, torn sweatpants and a T-shirt that had the word pyjamas written across the front. Finally flopping down in the blanket nest Izuku mentally prepared for the terrors that awaited them.
Drowning. It feels like they're drowning. The words flooding their lungs, every breath feels like a damnation of their own life. Every insult they've ever heard, every time someone calls them worthless, every burn and bruise and broken bone. And suddenly they're back on their parent's porch, outside a house that was never their home. Inside they heard laughter. They want to turn and run, but their body puppets itself to the window. They watch as their parents smile and laugh and dance. Talking about how much happier they are now that the thing that pretended to be their child is gone. Then they're on the roof of their school, being held over the edge by a grinning Bakugo "you know, it would be so much better for everyone if you died" he stares at them, ruby eyes meeting emerald. They're in the classroom, surrounded by teachers and students as they get beaten up, they can feel their consciousness slipping as they cry and scream and beg for help, everyone looks at them like a spectacle, like a show, like their death meant nothing more than momentary entertainment. As darkness took over their consciousness the last thing they see is the joyful faces of everyone they used to call family, smiling as they are finally free of the shackle that is Izuku.
Izuku woke up gasping, clawing at their chest trying to get the horrible words out of their lungs, tears rolling down their face, sobbing harshly as they struggle to get any air outside of shuddering, shallow breaths. They sat there for a long while gathering themself as sobs racked their chest. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Izuku chuckled to themself, no, tomorrow wouldn't be better, there hasn't been a single 'better' day since they were diagnosed.