Chapter 2: Planning For the Future
If past he knew what future he knew, then he wouldn't have gotten his hopes up just to be crushed by the expectations of reality.
Which is that getting a functioning hero suit is expensive .
All the protection he desired had more zeroes tacked on at the end than he had ever seen in his life before and he had seen hero merch . Whatever material that was close in his price range was thin and tearable, like spandex. No offence to spandex-wearing heroes but he isn't confident enough to feel naked when running around the city.
"You cannot run naked after a mad man in the street after he has taken your clothes away from you because the public will not know who is the mad person between the two of you." -Nigerian movie.
He groaned and put his head down against his desk, looking out of the window. It was still bright outside and people walked around. Some were families, others were friends, and the occasional person walked by with stride or calm steps; either enjoying their walk and strolling leisurely or they were on their way to meet someone or do something. Their chattering was quiet.
His body was far too heavy to do something like that. The thought of being outside exhausted him. There are too many people and he doesn't have any money to waste or friends who want to spend more time with him. There's simply no use for him being outside.
At night, at least he'll be alone. He can have the moon as a company. The moon wouldn't judge him and if it did then he wouldn't ever know. If he does end up knowing one day, well… At least mom still loves him.
A soft knocking interrupted his thoughts. He sat up and turned around as mom stepped inside with a plate of fruit.
"I brought you some fruit," she said and put down the plate on his desk.
He smiled at mom. "Thanks, mom."
She smiled back and glanced out of the window. "There's a lot of people out there, huh?"
He followed her gaze. "Yeah, I guess so."
She looked back at him and brushed off whatever dust she had on her body before sitting on his bed.
She bit her lip before she spoke. "Izuku… Can we talk?"
Just like that, his heartbeat accelerated. He dried off his sweaty palms on his shirt and twisted his chair to face her. "Sure, mom. What is it?" He tried not to fidget; forcing his feet up on his chair and hugging his knees while pressing his back against the chair stopped him from bouncing his foot or rocking back and forth.
"I'm worried about you. Yesterday with your hand—" Deku glanced down at his injured hand. Mom had wrapped it for him when he got home after school, scolding him for not waking her up when he had "fallen off the bed". "–and your quirk's drawbacks worry me. Honey, you know that you can tell me anything, right? Are… are you harming yourself?"
"No!" He whipped his head up and looked at her with wide eyes. "I-I'm not! I promise! I'm being careful with my quirk and I just fell off the bed. You know how clumsy I am."
She nodded, but Deku got the sense that it was more for show than that she believed him. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I love you, mom. I'll tell you anything, okay?"
She looked at him up and down and clasped her hands together. He fidgeted with his shirt to avoid her gaze. "Do you promise?" She asked softly.
He looked back at her and nodded. She relaxed instantly and a smile spread easily across her face. "Thank you, Izuku." She stood up and made her way towards his bedroom door. "I have to head out now. Dinner is in the fridge so all you have to do is heat it up. Don't forget to eat this time, okay?"
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, promising her to eat. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft goodbye. Then, she left, closing the door behind her. He turned back around and started to chew on some fruit as he thought about his plans for vigilantism.
Well, if he can't have some suit of armour protecting him then he can't get into too many dangerous fights. Good thing that he can use a hit-and-run tactic. Blunt weapons are the easiest to use so he should probably wield one of those. Knives are always good, but he doesn't know how to use them so they can quickly be turned against him or he could accidentally hurt someone too much. Usually, blunt weapons are harder to conceal and a lot heavier to carry around, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem with his quirk. He just has to be mindful of the drawbacks and cool down before doing anything reckless.
Speaking of, he really must be careful not to give away his quirk. He can quickly be found out that way. The option of not using his quirk does exist, but it's better to just be mindful and not give himself away. Even if he didn't use his quirk he is still going out every night to fight people. He can't claim self-defence on that; how would that go in court
"But, your honour, I only acted in self-defence AND I didn't use my quirk at all! That's not vigilantism as the law clearly states that it must contain the unlawful use of quirks! Huh? What do you mean that it is still illegal even if it's not classified as vigilantism? I acted in self-defence! It doesn't matter who throws the first punch since I was deliberately out looking for trouble? YOUR HONOUR, PLEASE—"
He shuddered and reached for another slice. Yeah, he's better off using his quirk if it means keeping others safe and him out of harm's way, to an extent. What he is doing is dangerous, especially if he doesn't want anyone to know. If he gets hurt then he might pass out and then either die or end up in a hospital which leads to prison.
He prefers dying. At least then mom would remember him as a stupid wannabe hero instead of a disgusting criminal. He should probably write a will. Can he write a will? But what if mom finds it? That wouldn't go over well. How many of his age have a will? There can't be that many, can it? It would probably be more suspicious if he had a will than if he didn't.
Isn't it said somewhere that if you had a will then you're prepared to die? Or is that what a will really is? It probably wouldn't be a good idea to write a will. Mom would be so worried.
Besides, he has no idea what to do with all his stuff. Let Kachaan take whatever he'd like and mom should sell the rest?
He reached for another slice but the plate was empty. In the middle of all his thinking, he had eaten it all.
Okay, so, a weapon and what he's going to do with his quirk is checked. Then it's just when, where, and what he should wear left. When is quite obvious; at night. More specifically, around the time mom is working. Not immediately afterwards she starts, of course not, that just screams trouble in case she comes home because she forgot something while he wasn't there.
There are a few heroes out around that time as well. He can't have any interaction with heroes (no matter how cool they are) because they would be trying to arrest him.
So let's say, around 12 to 04? Because he gets up at 6 to get ready (more like he needs an hour to get out of bed) and goes to school. He could probably sleep in for an hour or half an hour and skip breakfast. Mom would worry but maybe he can just grab something light or eat it on his way to school? He's usually not that hungry in the mornings anyway.
But where should he be? He can't be in his neighbourhood because they might realise that he's local in that case and heroes would look for him here. Does he have to have a strict location?
Well, isn't it smarter to not have one? He can probably move his location so that they won't track him down. Half an hour to an hour from here should suffice. Wait, here's a good idea: What if his schedule varies as well? The further away he is the longer he can sleep in. An hour for an hour. 10 minutes for 10 minutes. That means that he can stay nearby anyway. Not too often, but just enough to throw whoever could be searching for him off. If anyone even deems him worthy enough to look for, of course.
If he finds himself with some free time then he could patch whatever wounds he has, either from school or from being a vigilante. The more randomised everything is, the better. Though, he must have some rules to strictly follow. Mom works a ten-hour shift, six to four, every day except Sundays. He won't patrol on Sundays unless he knows that mom is gone. He doesn't want to worry her. He also likes spending that time with her since he sees so little of her; just popping in every once in a while to check on him.
Ah, he lost his thought process. He groaned and placed his head in his hands. Should he write this down? No, that's a bad idea. What if someone finds out? Okay, let's quickly start over.
Sundays are a no-show unless mom is gone. His schedule should vary from six to four, his curfew being a leeway in case something happens and he needs to sleep, or at least try to sleep. Everything else varies but he should try to not patrol around this area too often, but too little would be suspicious. What else?
He probably shouldn't be out every day and on the days he goes out he should put a pillow or two under his blankets in case mom comes home early to check on him. If he is out every day then he would quickly become exhausted and sloppy, which leads to death or imprisonment. Besides, a random schedule is always fun.
If someone asks, like a cop or a hero, he can just say that his "work" ends at odd hours. That would throw off the scent that he's a student. Wait, he's 13, they're going to know. Well, what if he just doesn't speak? And maybe they'll think that his height means he's just a short adult? If he's good enough, maybe they'll think that he has some kind of mutation!
Ah, who is he kidding? He's not good enough. He slumped forward and placed his head on his desk. To fool them into thinking that he has a mutation would require a lot of hard work, extra steps, and money he doesn't have. He would need to pick a mutation and stick with it. He can't afford to slip up, which he'll inevitably do. Hopefully, they'll just think that he's a short adult. How many of his age are vigilantes? It can't be that many or he would've heard about it on the news.
Most vigilantes are those that failed at becoming heroes or simply don't like the restrictions heroes have to deal with. Or they are too violent. See point 1.
What was he talking about again?
His vigilante persona.
Okay, so he can't speak. Easy enough. His muttering was beaten out of him a long time ago anyway. Though, that means that he can't comfort victims. Well, maybe that's a good thing? As a hero, he'll make sure no one gets scared as long as he's around, so if his vigilante persona is further away from his hero persona then he won't be found out. But if it's too far away maybe it'll become obvious?
Well, that's about the only difference. Not being able to speak and acting cold. Maybe he should try to be mean? Or violent? Kachaan usually takes out his frustrations on him in order not to hurt anyone. Maybe he can do the same?
"NO!" He shot up and slapped his cheeks, leaving a bright mark on both of them. He will NOT become violent. He is a hero, legally or not! He will NOT be known for being violent no matter how far off it will be from his hero persona! Even if it means death or going to prison. Becoming a criminal (or, well, a terrible criminal) is NOT an option! Get that thought into your thick, stupid head Deku !
He should probably act cold though. It makes him mysterious which makes his stomach flutter. Besides, there's nothing wrong with focusing only on the villains. It's not nice, that's for sure, but it's better than having the victims dead.
Okay, checkpoint:
He'll have a randomised schedule with randomised outings. There is still a time range to stick with and he's not going out on Sundays unless mom is away. As a vigilante, he won't speak and use his quirk sparingly and strategically. The lesser the better but never at the cost of someone. He should act coldly towards everyone but never be hostile or violent (except if the criminals are really bad).
What's left is his outfit and a name. Well, if he doesn't speak, maybe he won't need a name? Sure, let's go without a name. It's not like he can come up with something that doesn't connect to him (like Deku or Greenie) or is something cringe-worthy. His hero name is something that will stand for him, but his vigilante name doesn't matter. He's just there to save people.
But that begs the question; what should he wear? He must cover his face and hair for it is good at identifying him. He should wear long sleeves and pants to maximise the protection and hide him as best as possible. Dark colours as well. And what should he bring with him?
He opened his drawer and pulled out a sketchbook. It was titled "Mighty Ideas!" and was filled with different thoughts he had for becoming a hero. Mom didn't look through his stuff but if she happened to find it and ask him about it, he can just say that it's just an idea for being a hero that he stretched but didn't end up going with. It's not too far from the truth after all. He started to sketch.
A few days later he was entering a nearly empty thrift shop, fidgeting with his shirt along the way. He had finished his sketch on the vigilante costume, which was just some lines and thoughts since he can't afford to get hung up on small details he can't afford to do. The thrift shop was humid and the wet air clung to his skin. Some people were milling around, looking for something to buy, yet everyone seemed to stare at him as he entered the store. He planned to make the trip short, just in and out. He kept his eyes downcast and walked towards the shirt section. For now, he needed a black or dark grey hoodie.
He preferably wanted it zipped instead of a pull-on so the colour might change. If he found a good one that had strings he would replace the strings with green ones unless it already had that colour.
He looked through the aisles feeling slightly proud of his idea. But he pushed that feeling down as a smile threatened his face. It was just a stupid costume; clothes that didn't matter. He wasn't going to become a vigilante for the rest of his life. It was just training for the future until he can become a hero! As soon as he gets into U.A then he'll give up being a vigilante. So in the end, just a stupid costume for a stupid person.
Still, he had a feeling inside of him. Something that was gnawing on the insides and eating him up without a care. It was a thought, a whisper, that said that he wouldn't succeed as a hero. That all he could ever be was a pitiful vigilante who would die one week in.
He paused and looked down at the clothes. Everyone has that fear: that they don't have what it takes to become a hero. Well, except for Kachaan, but Kachaan was so great that there wasn't any question about it. Yet everyone works hard, don't they? They don't sit back and relax and think that the world will fall in front of them to step on. Surely they can't be so arrogant without a reason?
Besides, being a vigilante is a good backup plan, just in case. He wants to help people! Even if it means being a vigilante. He already has semi-sorted out his opinions about vigilantes being illegal, but it'll be fine. Somehow, he's alive so far so it must work out in the end.
"Whatever," he grumbled and walked to a different section. If he's stuck as a vigilante then he must find clothes that can hide him well and that he likes. His plan is still ongoing.
But seriously, why isn't there a single black or dark-grey hoodie in the entire store?! Sure, this is a thrift shop so you're bound to find weird clothing, but he's not going to run around with a hoodie that says: "Never fear 4 I have beer!" That's just awkward. If he's supposed to be the mysterious guy then he can't have a mysterious shirt. Well, it would certainly invoke some humour in it all, having the "scary" guy wearing such a silly shirt, but that's not what he's going for.
The hoodies that are what he's looking for, or at the very least close to what he needs, aren't his size. If he buys one then he'll have to spend some time sewing in the seams at home. It just becomes more expensive in the end and he doesn't care about his outfit if it will just cost him more money. He'd honestly rather wear the awkward hoodie that's cheap than a black one he had to spend more money on.
"Hey, uh, are you going to buy that?"
He breathed in sharply and turned around, holding a new hoodie close to his chest. He couldn't afford to waste any more time, he'll just have to buy whatever he has. "Y-yes. Sorry."
They held their hands up in an innocent matter. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you! And I was talking about that other hoodie." They pointed towards the hoodie with the All Might slogan.
He cringed and shook his head. "Ah, no… H-Here." He took the hoodie and gave it to them. They snatched it from his hands and grinned.
"Thanks, dude! And nice hoodie, by the way." They ran towards the register without having finished their sentence, the last part of the sentence barely managing to be heard.
He clutched the cloth tightly in his grip before glancing down at it. They said that it was a nice hoodie so it would be rude to not buy it. What if they ended up meeting each other again? What if they found out that he didn't end up buying it? He didn't have the best fashion sense, he knows this, but that person did end up buying that All Might hoodie so maybe he shouldn't buy it? But what if they didn't even plan on wearing the hoodie casually? It wasn't the best-looking hoodie. He should probably go with the hoodie in his hands. At least one person liked it, regardless of what it looked like. Besides, he can't linger in this section any longer; he needs to buy the rest of the outfit.
But the hoodie really didn't look anything like he had imagined it.
It was a zip-up hoodie with strings and pockets, which was why he had picked it in the first place. But it was a dusty-grey purple with the rims and edges being grayer than the rest of the hoodie. Right below where his ribs would be was a thick white line print, going across the arms as well, which looked remarkably like a train track where the more purple colour was shown as rectangles and thin, white lines separated each rectangle. The sleeves were thick and had two layers; the first one covered up to his elbow and was the same purple as the body of the hoodie with the white print, and the second one covered down to his knuckles with the greyish-purple colour without any print. The hood itself and the strings were greyish-purple, but the hood was also covered in white fur at the front, just like winter jackets.
In short, it wasn't anything like he had imagined it to be. His idea of wearing a dark hoodie was completely thrown out of the window. Yet, what choice did he have? He had already been complimented by the person for this hoodie—
Oh my god, what if they recognize the hoodie and can point him out as a vigilante?
He breathed in slowly and backed up against the wall to not stand in the way. He closed his eyes and breathed out before repeating the process. He reminded himself to be realistic; the person was just being kind and probably didn't even take a good look at what he looked like.
Creating a made-up scenario for himself is not going to work out. Realistically, they would not remember him or the hoodie. He breathed heavily.
He walked towards the pants section with shaky hands and shallow breath. Dark spots danced at the edge of his vision, but as he solely focused on his breathing, his thoughts and spots disappeared.
Determined not to freak out in the middle of the store, he focused on what he needed to buy next.
Preferably black pants or any other dark colour, but dark grey would be fine. He needed something loose and easy to move in but won't get in his way. So in his price range that would be… sweatpants.
He would've collapsed on the floor if the sheer embarrassment of it all didn't keep him on two feet.
He's going out in the dark night with just clothes as protection. Multiple layers might help a bit but in the long term, it means nothing. He'll have to stay with the easy criminals and back away from the real villains. Maybe he could help if the circumstances of it all allowed him to properly utilise his quirk, but he's not betting on it.
Well, if he wants protection then maybe he could put thin pieces of metal into paper and then tape them to his body. If needed, then he could tap the papers to transform them into metal.
He mentally started to map out his thoughts on how to utilise his quirk to the best of his ability. Of course, that's when he realises just how bad of an idea that is.
Metal is heavy so he might not be able to use his quirk on it. Tiny and thin pieces could work, but that doesn't offer enough protection and could easily bend or break. Whatever he used to stick the paper on him would be destroyed when transformed back into metal and be rendered useless. Fighting with metal attached to his body would be heavy and slow him down. That might be good for training, but he should at least learn the basics of fighting before attempting something similar.
Besides, the metal could easily hurt him or others if he's not careful. He could cut himself or break someone's bones with it. He'd prefer to keep the injuries to the minimum; content with just knocking someone out.
He dug through the pants, ignoring the jeans and the pants embedded with glitter. There was another reason why he wouldn't tape the papers to his back. It's a shame he couldn't remember what it was.
People stared at him as they walked past, whispering to each other about how long he's been here and that he shouldn't be picky about what he chooses since it's a thrift shop. Everyone is judging him, closing in on him, sneering as he kept his head down. He just needed to find some pants that fit his price range. Preferably dark, but right now he's willing to just grab whatever if it means moving on.
There! Something dark grey in the middle of the hanger, a yellow price tag showing him that was way below his budget! He immediately grabbed it, fiddling with the hanger as it got stuck, and walked away with a red face. He glanced around him, but the few people that were there paid him no mind. He pushed down his shoulders and breathed out, feeling how he immediately relaxed. Good, he hadn't embarrassed himself more than usual.
He glanced down at the pants in his hands. They were a nice shade of dark grey, a bit on the wider side but nothing he's upset over. He turned them over and saw something unexpected. They were slightly ripped at the knees and shins.
…
That explains why they were so cheap.
He turned around to leave the pants, hot and red embarrassment burning his ears. He can't wear ripped pants, he's not cool enough to do that! Then everyone will think that he's some kind of thug or delinquent! It would have been a cool cover story, but those are just gateways to becoming criminals or villains! And he doesn't want to become even more of a criminal than he already was!!
But someone is looking through the pants section right now.
He turned around again. He had already grabbed the pants, it would be awkward to return them when someone is there. That also means that he has to look for new pants, and he had already spent a lot of time there so it would just be awkward to spend even more time there, especially since he already left, and these pants aren't really that bad, he can just wear some long, black socks to cover up, and oh look, some really cool shoes, how wonderful!
He dived behind a rack of shoes, crouching down to breathe. He shut his eyes and hid his face behind his hands, allowing the darkness to surround him. No sounds reached his ears. He wouldn't have known that he was breathing if he couldn't feel it against his arms. His body shook so he sat down to give his legs a rest. Some say that it's disgusting to sit on the ground, but it's not like he's sitting in filth, so there .
Oh no, he's so sorry imaginary voice he didn't mean to sound so rude!
"Focus, Deku!" He took a sharp breath and stood up to a crouch. No one was near him. He slowly rightened himself and breathed out. He'll deal with whatever that was when he gets home. He was just about to move towards the cashier when he noticed that they weren't there. Alright, okay, then he'll just have to wait for them to come back. It's not like they'll be gone for a long time. He looked at the different shoes while he waited. Most of them were garnish, but some were normal enough to pay him little mind. He knew that he couldn't wear his trademark red shoes when he is out, they're trademark for a reason. He had some black ones at home, with green shoelaces even, that he planned to use. They were quite old and damaged, but he thought that they would be fine. They're just shoes. As long as they can protect against the ground, he can use them.
Yet, as he glanced upon some grey ones that are the exact same shade of grey as his pants, he can't help but feel that there is some kind of destiny he was meant for.
He did have money over since the pants were so cheap. Besides, now no one will recognize him at all. Green and purple are almost opposite colours anyway, so they'll probably just think that he likes purple and stay away from the green, but also look into orange since that colour is the opposite of purple. He thinks. He should probably look at a colour wheel. It was something like that, wasn't it? He's probably wrong. Yeah, he's wrong. He always is.
He's thinking too deep into this; they're not going to catch him because of the colour of his clothes. It's a colour, anyone can wear anything!
He grabbed the shoes and glanced back at the cashier. They were back now and idly glanced around the store in case anyone needed help. He was going to wait a little longer anyway, at least until someone else bought something. Just in case.
Two hours later, he finally arrived back home with the outfit. He mindlessly greeted mom who was about to head out as he walked up to his room and slid down on the ground with one hand placed over his mouth as he sobbed. He'd never show up there again.