Just a Concerned Citizen

Izuku blinked slowly at the email that had just come into his inbox. It was not one he’d been expecting.

--

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Info you may need to know

Thanks for the info. I'd been tracking them for a while, it really helped with the takedown. Given what we were dealing with I feel like it's important for me to ask: Who are you? How do you know these things?

--

He had only sent that message for his own peace of mind. He never thought anyone was actually going to read it.

When he was four, the doctor told him he was quirkless and sent him home. His mom had hugged him tight and apologized over and over and he had cried and cried. But it wasn't really over, then.

It was over when on that rooftop All Might had told him you can't be a hero. It was over when Kaachan hadn't come to school the next week-- attacked by a villain -- damaged jaw and a lung infection. It was over when he tried to say 'Sorry' and Kaachan had snapped at him about looking down on him and the words died on his tongue, because he was the one who let the villain get to him in the first place.

(He had stayed and cried on that rooftop for too long, had walked back home, remembering his mother's pleading to stay away from villain fights, and gone straight to bed.)

Turned out bullies got bored pretty quickly when you didn't have the energy left to react to them anymore.

Still, sometimes he walked home with a bitter taste in his mouth, seeing those bullies turn on others and not being able to bring himself to move between them anymore. He was no hero. Someone like him couldn't save anyone.

He had, on the recommendation of his school and his mother, decided to apply to a nice, normal, high school. It had been… Better. He wasn't beaten, the teachers would help him-- pity him even. He kept quiet so he wasn't a target and, for the most part, it worked.

He took all of his All-Might merch down because they served as cruel reminders of what he couldn't be. He still liked heroes-- he still liked heroes a lot but he couldn't stand to look at that one anymore.

And he made it through high school, and because everyone had told him to, he went to college. He got a part time job at a bookstore and a tiny, cramped one-room apartment.

He made it a few semesters before they told him that he had to declare a major, to figure out what he wanted to do, and he had nodded at them and told them he'd think about it and hadn't gone back.

A cop, an EMT, the quirkless support groups told him, be a social worker if you want to help people. He knew those things were true but they weren't what he wanted to be.

(Quirkless people have the highest mortality rate in the country, the groups said, the highest suicide and homicide rates of any demographic.)

A gap year stretched into two.

His days went like this: He would wake up as late as could be allowed before rushing to work at the bookstore on whatever days he had scheduled. He would go to the gym after -- his mom's idea, in high school, when she had been begging for him to just do something, anything, and he had kept it up because, well it was something to do, at least. Then he would go home, shower, make himself dinner (healthy, as much as he could put effort and money towards anyways) and spend hours and hours scrolling through the internet until the small hours of the morning. On Friday afternoons he would call his mom and they would talk about their weeks. Rinse and repeat.

It was not a very nice life, but it was his. He had a wall covered with printouts of pictures of the heroes he was following. He had some friends online, in forums and chat rooms, and when that wasn't enough he would just remind himself with a grim smile that by staying alive he was beating a statistic.

It also stood to reason that someone who spent as much time on the internet as Izuku did would eventually find their way into the dark parts of it. It wasn't even hard to do, really. People were all too eager to publicly share where they got their fix, and from there it had spiraled into a whole folder of definitely-not-totally-legal websites. Online stores where people could buy drugs were one thing but with some searching it spiraled into more. Forums where people bid on contract killings, anonymous chat rooms where people shared information from police scanners where others obviously planned to use that information to mug someone or worse. And there was worse.  A lot, so much worse. And it was just… There, online, able to be read.

(Well, not read easily, but Izuku had a lot of time to spare.)

The first time he had found people talking in code about something that was clearly human trafficking he had bit his lip and waited. Everything he had found was publicly available, the police or the pros surely already knew about it. They would handle it.

They didn't. And Izuku felt sick to his stomach as the names on the screen celebrated their score .

The second time he had read the messages over and over again, so sure that this was the same thing. And if no one was acting on it that meant that either they didn’t care or they didn't know and well, someone like him couldn't actually help , but he could at least point a hero towards what was happening. So he did some research to figure out where the group operated out of ( -- somewhere out of a warehouse, near a river that was probably polluted, in a place with decent foot traffic but a lot of alleyways to get lost in , with a certain fast food place nearby, based on the trash -- ) and figured out what heroes patrolled around there (which had been hard, the area didn't have any daylight patrols and underground heroes didn't like people to know those things. he'd ended up having to extrapolate the info from fan sightings instead of official data)

He had written out and deleted the email a few times before it occurred to him that he probably shouldn't connect all this illegal information to himself. So he made a new email, and he sent the message.

--

From: [email protected]

To:  [email protected]

Subject: Info you may need to know

Hi there,

I've stumbled on some info of what I'm fairly confident is a human/quirk trafficking ring in a place that I'm pretty sure you patrol. I'm pretty certain of the main location and have a good idea about their secondary. I also have a list of some of the quirks of people they've kidnapped, not sure how recent it is. I'm sending the info I found plus the analysis I did to get at my conclusions. Please believe me. These people need help.

[Files attached]

--

Most heroes didn't really respond to emails like that, they probably got thousands just like the one he had just sent every day and left a robot or intern to sort through it all. He hoped that since Mind Jack was an underground hero he got less messages like that and would have the chance to take a look at his. He probably wouldn't but…

Izuku tried to put what he'd found out of his mind for the rest of the week. Someone like him couldn't actually do anything to help those people. That email was the best he could do.

It still ate at him, though. Stuff like that always did.

And then he had gotten the reply, and he'd checked the news (well, an underground hero fan forum that tracked the cases pros solved) and sure enough Mind Jack had gotten a team together and saved those people. Had listened to him.

It was a weird sensation, but for the first time in years he felt sort of… alive. He had helped someone. Or had helped someone help someone, at least.

The warm feeling lasted until he looked back to the email and he remembered that he should probably respond to it. He knew, logically, that he should just come clean about everything; he hadn't done anything wrong, after all. But if they knew who he was then the would never listen to him ever again and then he would have to go back to living his normal depressing life of not being able to do anything .

It took him a few anxiety filled hours to write the email, but eventually he sent:

--

From: [email protected]

To:  [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Info you may need to know

I'm really glad you pulled it off, it makes me feel a lot better knowing those people are safe. All the information I had was publicly available info, I just compiled it. I'm not anyone important to the situation or anything, just a concerned citizen.

--

Izuku hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had written in one of his notebooks was the day everything fell apart. He still had them, of course, all thirteen of them, the last one still singed and waterlogged and unused for nearly 10 years. But that day after work he had bought another notebook,carried it home, and started writing.

It wasn't exactly like the old stuff he used to focus on as a kid, sure there was still a little bit of quuirk analysis, but it was mostly about who patrolled where and when, what kind of missions they took and what kind of missions they would be good for. He started with the heroes he had been following most closely -- the heroes that he was pretty sure the world was following most closely right now.

Izuku had been focused on UA's class A from the beginning, because that was the class Katsuki Bakugo was in and he'd known since he was four that Bakugo was going to be a great hero.

It had been really, really weird watching his childhood friend and bully go through emotional growth from a distance. Izuku had watched the video clip of the second year sports festival an embarrassing amount of times, the one where Bakugou had fought the hero now known as Red Riot and won, and instead of gloating and grandstanding he had pulled the other boy to his feet and they had shared a fierce smile and agreed it was a good fight. And, well, even now Bakugo was still known for being an kind of an asshole, but he'd definitely toned it down since middle school. At least to other heroes, there was no telling how he would treat a quirkless good for nothing college-drop out these days.

But he was better, at least on camera.

And his class was filled with people who were also all amazing. Everyone had started really noticing when they were third years, but the class had drawn eyes from the day they had started UA. Because of that, those were the heroes Izuku had wound up focusing on the most -- the home-made posters he had pinned to his wall were of Uravity and Creati and Chargebolt. The heroes who's patrol routes he was figuring out were Shoto and Invisible Girl and Mind Jack.

Well, Mind Jack was a special case. He was the only one in the class who had gone fully underground after graduation, making information on him much harder to come across. Though in Izuku's opinion that only made it more fun.

He had been good at this sort of thing, once, but it had been so long that his hand started cramping after just a few pages. Typing would have been easier and faster but it felt like a bad idea to put that information on a computer that he was often using to visit sketchy websites. And when he couldn't make himself write anymore, that was exactly where he went.

The going was slow, but to Izuku's surprise, it was going.

It wasn't for lack of material; if he really wanted to, Izuku was pretty certain he could put at least twenty drug dealers behind bars in one night. But he held back, insecurity telling him that if he sent everything he found out not only would the heroes start ignoring him, but he would also probably get caught by the criminals. Busts like that were the reason heroes patrolled in the first place so it's not like they needed his help or anything. All he was doing was looking into things that heroes were too busy to have time for.

Plus if he got the dealers arrested, how was he supposed to find anything about the manufacturers?

It took a solid week of digging, mostly through old social media accounts this time, but he sent his second email a week after the first.

--

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Fukuoka Drug Ring

Apologies if I've gotten my information wrong, but I believe you are with the agency heading the investigation on the Fukuoka drug ring. The police had released that the VP of Takeda Pharmaceuticals was a minor suspect as a supplier for the chemicals but had to drop the case due to lack of information. Assuming the case is still being investigated, there are a few people worth questioning that I don’t think have been yet. I also think it would be worth looking into his wife and the charity she has in her name as well. I've attached their information and some pertinent links. Good luck if you end up pursing this:

[Files Attached]

--

He didn't get a response, but he hadn't really been hoping for one at the start of all this. If all he could do was try and draw attention to things, that's what he was going to do.

The next week he sent out two more emails-- the underground fighting ring had been pretty easy to pick out, the co-ordinated group of burglars had been less so. That one had been doubly annoying, because he'd gathered the information, and when the cross referenced what hero he should try and contact had been faced with Ground Zero. With Katsuki Bakugo. He should have just sent the email, but he couldn't make himself do it, something in him screaming that he would immediately get caught.

Caught doing what? He taunted himself, browsing the internet?

In the end he had picked out another hero that was nearby. Neither of them would read his message, but if they did… this felt more safe.

The response he got, less than a day later left him even more stunned than the first one.

--

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Burglaries

Thanks.

--

So, Pro-Hero Shoto, or at least someone in his agency had seen his email and responded right away and thanked him for it.

That was when Izuku knew he wasn't going to be giving up on this any time soon.

Over time he started to work out a system. Heroes rarely announced what cases they were working on, unless it was a high-profile thing, but their movements still made it obvious the sort of activity they were up to, and more importantly the things that they weren't doing. He never sent an email with anything less than concrete evidence, though he had a lot of very solid theories.

As the days passed he started to form a ranking of hero agencies. Most of the large agencies didn't respond to him, as he expected, but a surprising number of them did. The actual heroes weren't looking at his messages, he was pretty sure, but the responses came with promises that the message had been looked at or forwarded to someone who would. Smaller independent agencies tended to thank him for the tips and ask him not to get into trouble, and he felt pretty certain about his hypothesis about underground heroes not getting as much mail, because Mind Jack always responded to him.

They weren't all good though.

--

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Suspicious Activity in Naruhata

Thank you for your message. The effort you put into this is appreciated, but please leave criminal investigations to the professionals. Doing otherwise would border on illegal vigilante activity.

--

On a fresh page in his notebook, Izuku made a column with the header agencies to avoid contacting.

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

Sexier Xenomorph: yooo kiri I saw the news

Sexier Xenomorph:  you guys wrapped up that investigation so fast bro

Sexier Xenomorph: what happened to 'oh this is so hard im not cut out for this detective work stuff' ???

Hard Hardman: lol thanks!

Hard Hardman: I actually didn't do much of anything??

Hard Hardman: we got an email the other day that was basically like 'hey here's literally everything you need to know to solve this case.'

Hard Hardman:  which I know sounds sketchy as hell but it actually turned out to all be right?

ultimate fly paper: oh no way lol

ultimate fly paper: we've gotten a few like that too? All from the same person I think

ultimate fly paper: all like... "Oh no I don’t know anything about the case really but I think this could help"

ultimate fly paper: I thought they were hoaxes??

ultimate fly paper: I only saw them bc the intern who usually does email stuff is out sick

Pikachu…Two!: wait wait omg is this the concerned citizen person

Pikachu…Two!: my leading theory is that theyre like

Pikachu…Two!: a criminal mastermind tryin 2 take down the competition

Hard Hardman: ya it was them, didn’t' realize they were well known.

Ingenium: My agency has gotten several emails of theirs as well, I agree that they seem suspicious.

Tired ™: I actually have smth to say abt this

Sexier Xenomorph: omg

ultimate fly paper: omg

Pikachu…Two!: omg

_: i can't believe it... Mind Jack deigns to join us is in the GROUP CHAT??

Spaced out: Don’t be mean or he'll leave!

Tired ™: this sort reaction is exactly why I dont talk in here

Spaced out:  see!!

Tired ™: anyways

Tired ™: afaik the concerned citizen person hasn't done anything illegal

Tired ™: their info has been good so far but obv double check it

Tired ™: but im still keeping an eye on them

Tired ™: ig as a personal project but also will be useful if it turns out they are a criminal

Pikachu…Two!: wow imagine... Shinso having an interest in something

Tired ™: ignoring that for your sake

Tired ™: basically what im saying is if you find out more about them send me the info

Ingenium: Will do!

Izuku squinted at his inbox. The last batch of responses had been…Weird.

---

From: [email protected]

To:  [email protected]

Subject: RE: Illegal Dumping in Shishui

Thank you so much for the info Mr. Concerned Citizen! Is it alright if I call you Mr? Or do you want to go by something else?

---

Was…Was he being teased? He didn't know how else to take that. And then there was the other one:

---

From: [email protected]

To:  [email protected]

Subject: RE: String of Burglaries

You've been super helpful so far! Would be easier if you just worked at the agency, though. I can put a good word in for you if you apply!

---

That one had to be some kind of joke.

Or rather, both replies had been clear efforts to get more information about him, but there was no way in hell Izuku was going to do that. He knew that this only lasted for as long as the people listening to him didn't realize who and what he was.

He closed out of his inbox without replying to either message.

These days Izuku spent more time on the dark web than he did on hero forums. It had been two months of small, precious victories, of awkward emails teasing him for information and warning him away from criminal activity no matter how thoroughly he showed that all of the information he had was right there, easy to be found.

Two months of building a, frankly, pretty weird reputation. The heroes trusted his information even as they tried to figure out reasons not to. They, without fail, solved the things he sent to them, even while thinking he was a villain. It stung, a little, to know that his heroes were suspicious of him, but not enough for him to stop. For once in his life, he felt exited to go home after work. Better they thought he was someone evil and listened to him than realized he was useless and stopped

Tonight he was following that same routine. Izuku rubbed at eyes tired from staring at his laptop screen. Would it kill these illegal sites to have dark modes?

He jumped at the cheerful ping of a notification. In his searching Izuku had found several chat rooms- most of them were only sparingly active but he kept them open, anyway. Just in case.

Usually it was nothing -- another person like him who'd stumbled into the wrong place -- but this time...

The chatroom in question hadn't been used once since he'd found it. Until now.

There was a photo of a woman, dressed snappily, high ponytail and skin with blue and black splotches. The picture was grainy, like it was taken from far away and had been zoomed in. Izuku didn't recognize the her, but he recognized the street; the bookstore he worked at was grainy in the background but it was most certainly the same place. This photo must have been taken from the park across the street.

His heart jumped into his throat at the messages that flashed onto the screen next.

188166: Nakatoya St heading east

188166: Secretes paralytic poison from skin

188166: Get going

Yeah. That was the street. He could run there in under 5 minutes, and he usually did when he woke up late on work-days.

He didn't know what they were planning on doing to her, but whatever it was it was happening now.

His hands shook at he opened the program he'd been using to send messages to the heroes.

-

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], […and 35 others]

Subject: URGENT Kidnapping/Murder

Just got some info that needs to be acted on right away. The woman in the photo is being targeted for some reason.  Nakatoya St heading east. Please help her.

[Image Attached]

-

He hit the send button and stared at it for a long minute, the anxiety building in his chest only growing worse. That was it. That was all someone like him could do, right? The heroes had been good at listening to him so far.

But he had sent this message so late in the day, he knew most of the heroes on his list weren't patrolling anymore, those few that were probably wouldn't be anywhere nearby. They wouldn't get to her in time.

Izuku picked up his phone with a shaky hand and looked at the dark screen reflecting his pinched face back at him. Maybe he could go to that street? See if she was okay? Maybe the message didn't mean anything. Maybe it did and he should go run down the street right now and, and --

Izuku stood up jerkily, the chair behind him falling on it's back. He wouldn't be able to save her, he knew that, but he could call for help, buy her some time, do something.

(It did not occur to him that it was the first time he had tried doing something like this since he was fifteen).

There were a lot of corny little stories online about pro heroes in their younger days, about them moving without thinking. A 5 minute sprint was a long time to move without thinking but Izuku managed it mostly because the only thing he could think about was that she, whoever she was, was in danger. He was already gasping for air when he reached the intersection of street and alley, the bookstore he worked at, where she had been, was only a few store-fronts away.

Eastbound, wasn't it?

He tried to look a little more casual as he started making his way down the street. If anyone actually looked at him they'd see him still red faced and trying to catch his breath, eyes darting nervously back and forth as he looked for someone in trouble. But he didn't stand out too badly; it was Friday night in a college town, groups of kids were wandering the streets doing... Whatever it was college kids did. Izuku hadn't ever been invited to those things but he was pretty sure that they involved alcohol. He forced himself to slow his frantic pace as he looked at the people he was walking past. Maybe she had gone into a bar? Should he go into one too, to find her? That would be bad though, it would be really easy for someone to get her in private if she had gone there--

He slowed to a stop before he realized what he was doing. Why was he out here? Why did he think he would have been able to do anything? He choked down the lump in his throat and forced his feet to keep moving so no one would stare at him. It was just a few messages, with no proof to back them up. He had emailed a bunch of heroes and wasted their time and they would never want to listen to him now.

His stream of self depreciation stopped at once with a sudden realization -- there, at the noodle stand on the corner of the street, filled with tipsy patrons, and light, and laughter; there, sitting at a stool on the in the middle, legs visible under the banners hanging from the roof, Izuku saw the blue and black splotched skin of the girl in the photo.

Ok. Ok. She was okay. With fumbling hands Izuku reached into the pocket of his hoodie to pull out his phone, dialing the number for the police and holding a finger over the call button. The moment something weird happened, he would call. That was all he could do.

He knew he was being creepy, but he made his way over to the wall opposite and leaned against it, trying to make it look like he was looking at his phone and not the people sitting at the stand. It didn't take all that long before she stood up. And she didn't stand up alone -- the man next to her stood up, too; he was tall, dark clothes with long sleeves and leather gloves, and he had one arm slung over the woman's shoulder to make sure she was pulled close. He couldn't catch the woman's expression before they turned away from him, walking down the street, opposite to most of the dwindling traffic.

Oh. Izuku realized. Oh no. There was a chance that maybe that guy was her boyfriend or some nice guy she'd met tonight, but knowing what he knew he didn't think that was the case. He stood up and started following, hand with the phone shaking.

He should just call. This was a better safe than sorry situation, if he was wrong he would rather ride out the embarrassment than be right and not have done anything. And if it wasn't nothing, the police being here would probably stop whatever else was going to happen. A shaking finger pressed the call button.

"What is your emergency?"

Izuku pulled the phone close to his face, spoke low so no one would look at him, "Nakatoya Street, by the noodle stand I think that there's a guy t-trying to uh. Take advantage of someone?"

He should have paid attention to what was being said on the other line but he realized that even that small distraction lead to him losing the two he'd been watching. He picked up the pace, brain racing.

"She's got long black hair and uh- black pumps? " he mumbled into the receiver, ignoring whatever the operator had told him, "and I think some kind of frog or toad quirk, she's got blue and black amphibian skin. I don't know what the guy looks like but he's wearing dark stuff. I think he knows about her quirk because he's covered up all his skin."

He spotted them again, further down the street, turning into an alley and without thinking he started to run. The man noticed him, of course, Izuku wasn't doing a damn thing to seem less conspicuous. He shot Izuku a glare that could kill, but he stopped moving and as far as Izuku was concerned that was a win. He could buy time.

"What are you following us for, fuckhead?" the man spat. If he hadn't already seemed suspicious, he was wearing a surgical mask and a set of mirrored sunglasses in the middle of the night.

"I-I uh-" his voice shook with nerves but that was an occurrence so old he knew how to power through it, "I thought I recognized the, um, t-the girl with you. I think we're in the same biology class?"

It was a lie, he didn't know where or if she went to school, but the girl's reaction would let him know if she knew she was in danger. And it seemed like she didn't based on the sidelong glance she gave him from around the man's shoulder.

"I don't think so?" But she said it in a way that had no finality, like she really wasn't sure if she should know him or not.

"Y-yeah I guess you might not recognize me, I know I'm kinda plain looking" just keep talking, just keep them here long enough for someone to do something, "B-but uh, H-Himiko-chan was getting a group together to go out for drinks tomorrow and wanted to invite you? But no one could catch you after class, but when I saw you here I thought I could invite you...?"

His voice wavered as the man took his arm off the woman to face him, fists curling into something angry -- oh but that was good, if he wasn't touching her she could get away --

"You got a fuckin' problem man? We're a little busy."

He put one hand up -- the other still holding the phone, griping it tight with the hope that the operator had dispatched someone -- and took a step back. He hated that he knew what he was doing, hated that he knew it would bait the man to take a step closer to him and away from her. Some distant part of his brain screamed at him that he was doing it again, he had run between the bully and the bullied and that had never fucking helped anyone, but he was in too deep to stop now.

"You're in danger, someone is trying to hurt your please run-!" He saw the woman's expression shift to shock at the same time he saw the fist flying towards his face. Izuku stumbled backwards at the hit, phone flying from his hand to clatter on the pavement and back hitting not a wall or the ground but another body and uh oh, he knew how this usually went --

Down the street there was a flash of blue and red, the blare of a police siren and the fingers wrapping around his arms were released before they could leave bruises. The man in the dark jacket strung a few curses together before bolting down the alley he had been pulling the woman down, and whoever it was behind him decided that it was a good idea because they followed right after.

The woman was staring at him with wide eyes, and Izuku's thoughts went something like this:

Oh, that's nice, that's never worked before.

I wonder if I just got lucky with the police, or if they like to patrol this place because of the college kids.

If I'm here when the police get here they're going to want to question me and I wont be able to answer them.

If they question me someone might realize who I am.

If someone knows who I am, no one will let me help anymore.

Why was the panic clawing at his throat worse from that thought than over what he had just been though?

"F-flag them down" he choked out, "Make sure you get somewhere safe."

And then he was running, too, in the opposite direction. When he got back to his apartment he was shaky and exhausted and it was over an hour later but he was reasonably sure that he hadn't been followed, and if he had been, well they would have a hell of a time waking him up.

When Hitoshi got to the scene, there was already an ambulance there which was rarely a good sign.

He swung down from a building across the street and sauntered over. No blood, no bodies, only a single squad car. No one had called for a hero, except for a panicked stranger who had up until now only asked for help when there was so much proof that it was needed that it couldn't possibly be denied. How could whatever had happened here be so big and so small at the same time?

He made no effort to hide himself as he walked up to the scene, making sure he caught the eye of the older officer, greying hair pulled back into a tight bun, leaning on the back of her squad car and examining something on a clipboard. Hitoshi didn't know her name, but he had worked around her enough times to know that she'd recognize him as a Pro -- And indeed, when she looked up and saw him her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Please don't tell me this is more complicated than some college kids getting into trouble."

"It is." He confirmed; she sighed and pinched at the bridge of her nose.

They went through the motions - he pulled his hero license out of the pocket on the inside of his coat, she checked it with a grimace.

(They had been through this song and dance enough times for Hitoshi to know that even though she had just read his hero name she would keep calling him "The Eraserhead Kid").

He took his license back and she closed her eyes, like the whole ordeal had caused her an unbearable amount of stress.

"We got a call for a possible sexual assault about fifteen minutes ago, but the guy on the line didn't give his name, just the street and info about the people involved, not himself. Three people fled the scene when we hit the lights, but I saw someone get decked pretty hard so we called in EMS just to be safe. The young lady in the ambulance is the one who flagged us down, we haven't questioned her yet. I assume you want to be present?"

Yeah, this was what he'd been afraid of. He nodded, "One of the people who ran, probably the person who made the call, is a possible vigilante."

To the officer's credit, she didn't outwardly do anything to imply that it was the worst news she'd heard all night. She gestured at the open back of the ambulance and they walked around the side. The woman sitting on the bench was absolutely the woman in the photo of the email. She had a scratchy shock blanket pulled over her shoulders though she mostly just looked nervous.

"Pro Hero Mind Jack." he bobbed his head, "Just came to make sure you're okay."

Which was not the entire truth, but saying anything more right now would only freak her out more, which was not what she needed.

"Do you mind if we ask you some questions?"

Her name was Aoi Nakano, she had decided to go out for dinner and met a guy who she thought she had clicked with. He'd said he had some kind of mutation quirk, so he wore a mask, but claimed that he'd show her his face in private. He'd asked if she'd be more comfortable going to his apartment or hers and she'd said that his was fine -- he'd really sounded like a nice honest guy -- so he'd started leading her that way. And that was when the other man had run up to them.

"He was uh… a little plain" she said, embarrassed, "He actually said that himself. But I remember he had this dark curly hair. He ran up to us and started saying all this weird stuff like we knew each other? But I think that somehow he knew what was going to happen. He got punched as soon as soon as he told me I was in danger." She paused, looked down at her hands, "I thought he was just being rude until the police showed up… I didn't even notice the third guy until he was running."

Hitoshi let himself smile behind his mask. He had been wondering if his Concerned Citizen had been the one to throw or take the punch.

Nakano chewed on her lip for a moment longer and then pulled a phone from inside the fold of the blankets. It looked old, the case was beaten and faded and the screen had a narrow crack running across one of the corners.

"I think that this was his. He had it in his hand but he dropped it when he got uh… Hit."

Hitoshi took it and hit the power button. 43% battery and a lock screen photo of a cityscape that was probably taken from the top of the Tokyo Sky Egg. No notifications.

"If you find him could you maybe… Thank him for me?" the girl shivered, "I think something bad would have happened if he didn't show up when he did."

Hitoshi nodded, "Will do."

The officer suppressed another sigh, "Well, the only thing that happened here tonight we can prove was an assault, which means that that the person who can press charges has run off." The police woman gave Hitoshi a mean side-eye, "Which means that we can't easily get a hold of security footage, unfortunately."

Hitoshi held up the phone, "I think I'll get what I need from this, thanks."

Then he turned to Nakano, "Do you want someone to escort you home?"

She blinked at him, "Um… That's okay, I'm sure you have a patrol to get back to or something…"

"He does." The policewoman agreed, "But we're heading back for the night, so we can drop you off."

A compromise for someone deflecting, a tactic that had been used on Hitoshi plenty of times in his high school days.

"Oh uh. Sure, I guess."

She accepted the hand down and over to the squad car, Hitoshi offered a slight bow of his head to the ambulance driver and a nod to the police officer, who very professionally did not roll her eyes at him, before disappearing into the alley and releasing his capture weapon so he could swing himself back up onto the rooftops. The police showing up had scared everyone away, not that there was usually anything more interesting that drunks acting disorderly around here at this hour. So, sure, he had a patrol to get back to, but he had another thing to deal with, too.

He retrieved his own phone from another internal pocket and unlocked it, eyebrows going up at the notification of a private message, from Denki. Hitoshi was wholly un-surprised  that he was still up this late.

---

Pikachu…Two!:  o yeah I forgot to mention it but I got a rlly funny email from your citizen project the other day

Pikachu…Two!:  they sent this stuff for a case that was helpful and I know u said u wanted more info abt them

Pikachu…Two!:  so I was like o hey btw are u a villain

Pikachu…Two!:  and they just sent me back an email that said 'no' lmaooo they r normally so polite

Pikachu…Two!:  but yeah I mean I guess they r not a villain lol

Tired ™: incredible

Tired ™: really your investigative skills are unmatched

Tired ™: on that note, want to help me hack a phone?

Izuku woke up well past noon, aching all over. Which wasn't anything new but it hadn't happened in quite a while.

He could deal with the sore muscles; sure, they screamed at him as he pulled himself out of bed, but his legs weren't so wobbly that couldn’t walk. If he sat curled up on the floor of the shower for twenty minutes then that was no one's business but his own. When he got dressed, it was in his comfort clothes -- a too big Present Mic t-shirt,  fleece pyjama pants, and his hoodie. Which he needed to wash, now, but he could do that later.

Afterwards he grimly poked at his face in the mirror. It wasn't the worst black eye he'd ever had, but he had a nasty purple bruise that spread all the way down his cheek. He dug his first aid supplies out of the cabinet under the sink and went through them with a sigh. There wasn't much he would be able to do besides ice it, and the concealer he used to have to cover up wounds like that had long since expired and been thrown out.

He dragged himself across the apartment to open the freezer. Might as well get the ice and make himself something to eat, and if he was going out shopping for concealer anyways he should see what he needed to stock up on…

There was a knock on the door. A solid four raps on the wood of his front door, that Izuku stared at because he couldn't possibly have heard that. No one came to visit him except his mom, and she would always call him first. His hand flew to his pockets. There was no phone. He hadn’t even realized.

So who could be outside? Option one was the police. Which was scary, but he hadn't actually done anything wrong last night. Though he couldn't actually be sure if they would see it that way. He shouldn't run from them.

Option two was one of the villains, out to get revenge, in which case he should slip out the window and down the fire escape. 

Option three was that his mom had gotten worried that he hadn't responded to a text or something.

He shut off the stove where he had started to boil water and crept over to the door. He hadn't really considered the peephole useful before, since he never had guests, but he was thankful for it now as he stood on his toes and peered out.

"Oh." he said to himself softly, "my god."

Option four was, apparently, that Pro Hero Mind Jack was standing outside of his apartment, looking supremely bored and tired.

Well, he wasn't going to be able to run from that. Even if he really, really wanted to.

"Uh!" he called out, mouth dry, "G-give me a minute!"

Well, his apartment was already clean, mostly by virtue of the fact that he didn't own much, but he did stumble over to his bed to make it with trembling hands. Then he looked down at himself and pulled at his hoodie with a grimace. Probably not a good idea to greet the pro looking for you in the clothes you were almost a vigilante in last night. He pulled it off and put it in the laundry hamper. And then took a moment to bury it under some of his other clothes. 

There was nothing else for him to do to delay what felt like his inevitable death, so he went back to the door. And unlatched the deadbolt. And put his hand on the doorknob.

Oh god. He was going to cry. A pro hero was at his door, which would have been enough all on its own, but he was here because Izuku did something bad enough to send him here. And he had been emailing Mind Jack, so the hero definitely had been able to connect what happened last night to the person who'd been sending him tips. His fist tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles were white.

He took a shuddering breath. It was fun while it lasted. What he had to focus on right now was not bursting into tears in front of a pro that he'd been idolizing for years. He pulled the door open a few inches, enough for the hero to look in -- wow, yeah, his eyes really were purple -- and lock eyes with him.

"Uhm. Mind Jack? Hi." Izuku bit his lip hard, trying to figure out what would make this easiest, "D-do you- Do you want to come in?"

If the hero was surprised that he'd been recognized he didn't show it. Even by underground hero standards his costume was low key- a black jumpsuit and a dark purple hoodie, hood up. His capture weapon could easily be mistaken for a scarf; the only thing about his costume that could be considered recognizable was the mask that covered the bottom half of his face, mechanical bits mimicking fangs. It shouldn't have been so hard for Izuku to stop himself from asking about the support item, given the circumstances. As it was, the underground hero gave him a slight nod so Izuku pulled the door open wider so he could step through.

He shut the door behind the pro, who was being blatantly obvious about looking around the room. Looking for things out of the ordinary and exit points, no doubt. But he didn't say anything, even as Izuku stepped around him to go stand awkwardly in the kitchenette. Suddenly he was feeling very self conscious about his little apartment. It was a little plain, he knew, the only real bit of decoration he had were the print outs on the walls of -- his heart did a weird staccato beat because Mind Jack and his classmates were on his wall and the hero and definitely seen oh god as if this wasn't bad enough.

"C-can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" His voice was high and wavering, and there was a slight tilt of the man's head at the second option, then a barely perceptible sigh.

"No, but thank you for the offer."

He was expecting the voice -- and, oh, it was deeper than he thought it would be -- to sound more muffled by the mask, but it came out perfectly clear. Mind Jack had apparently finished cataloging everything in the room because he turned to catch Izuku staring. He could only hold the Pro's gaze for half a second before his eyes fell to his hands. The man didn't speak again, and the silence started to stretch uncomfortably long. Just because Izuku knew what tactic the hero was using on him didn't mean it didn't work.

"S-so uh. D-did you need something? Mind Jack, sir?"

A nod, "You dropped something."

The pro reached into a pocket and held something out to him. It took Izuku an embarrassingly long moment to realize that it was his cellphone.

"I-" he reached for it like it was going to bite him, but Mind Jack let him take it without issue, "T-thank you?"

He held eye contact for a little longer this time, and it was actually the pro who broke it, eyes flicking down to the phone in Izuku’s hands.

"No problem. You're the one who's been sending the emails, right?"

It took everything in him for Izuku to not collapse to the floor right then. Cool. Okay. His worst fear had come to pass. He had died last night and woken up in hell. That was the best explanation. 

He managed a meek little nod, and when there wasn't an immediate response very brightly blurted out, "I didn't do anything illegal!"

Oh god. This was the worst. He was the worst.

"You didn't." Mind Jack agreed. He sounded almost… Amused? That gave Izuku the courage to peek up  at where the pro was leaning on the counter. With only his eyes visible the man was hard to read, but it was clear he was trying to make himself look non-threatening- shoulders pulled down and hands held in front of him. Which was nice, but Izuku couldn't figure out why.

"I'm not going to lecture you about how what you've been doing is dangerous," the hero continued, then gestured at Izuku's face, "I’m pretty sure you already know. But, you know, I'm a hero and everything. I have an obligation to keep you safe. So if something like that happens again, you call me instead of running out there and getting hurt, okay?"

"…Call…You?" Izuku couldn't force his voice much louder than a whisper.

"I took the liberty of putting my number in your phone, yes. Hopefully you won't need to use it, but…" Izuku heard the hero shrug more than he saw it, with his eyes now locked on the reflection of his face on the screen of his battered old phone, "Just don't go running after any criminals yourself. More than you already have been, I mean."

Izuku wouldn't have been able to make himself respond to that if someone had a gun to his head. Mind Jack didn’t seem mad. And it sounded like he expected him to… Continue? To keep figuring out crimes and sending emails? But if he was here that meant he knew who he was. This had to be some kind of joke, or something --

It didn't seem to be. The pro just took a long moment to quietly appraise him. He couldn't look good, the only reason Izuku hadn't started to cry was because he had screwed his eyes almost shut.

"I have another question for you, and you don’t have to answer this one if you don't want to --" Mind Jack had stepped away from the counter to cast another glance and a questioning hand around his tiny apartment, "-- but why do things like this? I'm sure you could get hired on at any agency in the country with skills like yours."

Izuku would remember that comment and blush at it later, but in the moment he forced his tongue to unstick itself from the roof of his mouth and reply, in a voice rough with emotion, "It's not that easy, for someone like me."

The only explanation for the fact that the feeling that flashed through the hero's eyes was understanding, or really for this entire interaction, was that Izuku was hallucinating. He'd gotten knocked out when he got punched and this was all some kind of dream. Only if this were a dream he long since would have woken himself up in a flustered panic with the way the pro's eyes were fixed on him. Then Mind Jack blinked and took another step towards the door.

"Right, I think that was all. Stay safe, don't do crime-" Izuku was aware that the hero had cast another glance towards him in a very vague sense. It felt like his brain was being held underwater, that information only came in broken waves, "-call me if you need anything. Oh, and the girl from last night said thanks for the help."

Mind Jack let himself out of Izuku's tiny apartment without any more fanfare. As soon as the door was closed, Izuku sank to the floor, clutching his phone to his chest like a lifeline. What the hell was that?

First, he cried. Not from any specific emotion, more a mix of every emotion. When he finished crying he looked through his phone to find that, yes, actually, the pro hero Mind Jack had put a contact in his phone, and he started crying again. Happier tears, this time, but by the time he was finished he had spent an hour on the kitchen floor and was feeling exhausted and hungry. By that point he had recovered enough for him to let his body auto-pilot through the process of making himself rice and miso soup as he got his thoughts back together.

Right. So. One of the Pro Heroes he'd been anonymously emailing had found him, and didn't seem to plan on making him stop. Seemed to expect him to continue, actually. And had given him his phone number? Obviously so that he wouldn't do anything as stupid as he had last night, of course.

Oh. And he had helped someone. He wasn't sure he believed that part yet.

Izuku knew he had a bad habit of forming celebrity crushes on pro heroes. It was nothing major, nothing he couldn't deal with, more fun than anything else. The bigger problem was that he also tended to develop a crush on anyone who was nice to him, and those tended to be much harder to deal with. Mind Jack was a pro hero, and had, ostensibly, been nice to him. Had given him his phone number, in any case. Not that Izuku would ever, ever use it, but still… He did have it. That almost overrode the embarrassment he felt over the fact that the hero had seen the home-made merch Izuku had on his wall of him and his classmates.

Once he had gotten over the fear and the shock, Izuku rode that high to the grocery store, to buy concealer and eggs. And then to home, to his laptop, where he got back to work.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Missing Persons Cold Case (Kano Masaru)

Hello,

This case was dropped long before you ever became a hero, but I believe I may have just found photo/video evidence that Kano Masaru is alive, well, and possibly a member of the yakuza:

[Files Attatched]

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

Pikachu…Two!: guys @Tired ™ is being so mean to me

Pikachu…Two!: he made me do all this stuff to find out about the Citizen

Pikachu…Two!: and now he wont tell me ANYTHING

Sexier Xenomorph: oooh what??

Sexier Xenomorph: @Tired ™ give us the deets?

Sexier Xenomorph: are they cute?

Sexier Xenomorph: are they evil???

frog. : I hope that they aren't evil, their messages have been very helpful.

Tired ™: i really have to mute this chat

Tired ™: this is when I sleep, you know

Tired ™: also im not telling anyone anything because you fuckers wouldn't know about protecting the identity of an informant if you took a whole lesson on it

Tired ™: which you all have might I add

Sexier Xenomorph: hey!! it's not like that

Sexier Xenomorph: just want to know what's got you so interested in them :)

Tired ™: please like im the only one

Tired ™: in the interest of being able to get some sleep ill tell you this

Tired ™: theyre not a criminal

Tired ™: not a vigilante either although its kind of a close thing

Tired ™: so still keep me updated if they message you

Tired ™: but do it in 8 hours

Tired ™: ping me again right now and your blocked

That Friday when he called his mom, Izuku wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't been mentioning his nightly online criminal hunts, or the emails. They weren't a big deal, and they would only make her worry. Except that this week they had become a big deal. They'd brought a pro hero straight to his apartment. 

He asked her how her week had been and she had rambled on about some petty dispute some of her co-workers were having over stolen lunches. His mom expected it to escalate to the point where someone would end up lacing something with hot sauce. All the while his mind was racing as he tried to figure out what to say to her. He had never outright lied to his mother about anything, but he had a long history of withholding things from her. She had always been so worried for him when he came home hurt, but when he had learned to cover it up she had stopped crying, had gotten so much happier. So she didn't need to know about the fact that he had gotten punched in the face -- the bruise was mostly a faded gross yellow color by now and would be long gone before he went to visit her again. She didn't need to know about the emails, because she was already concerned he spent too much time online as it was.

Inko Midoriya asked, "So how was your week, sweetie?"

"Good!" he said, which was not a lie, "I saw a pro earlier this week!"

"Oh! At the bookstore?"

He felt guilty that she made it so easy, he didn't even have to actually lie, he just didn't have to disagree.

"It was Mind Jack, y-you know, the underground one from, UA?"

"Oh, goodness. They must have been surprised you recognized them, then." His mother said in the tone of someone who was supportive but who didn't know what the conversation was about, "Did you get their autograph?"

"Ah no, I didn't." He laughed, nervous but genuine, "I should have. I was too scared."

"Oh well, you'll get it next time." his mother said, "I'm going to start on dinner, did anything else happen this week?"

Yes, he thought, even as his mouth said, "Not much. Talk to you soon, mom."

"You too dear, have a good weekend!"

He hung up the call and let out a long shaky breath. Izuku stared at the screen, fully intending to guilt trip himself over lying to his mother. Instead his eyes were drawn to the top, where he had a notification of a text. Which was unusual - he must have gotten it when he was calling his mom, but she was the only one he knew who would text him, so who…?

From Mind Jack:

btw

if the tabs im keeping are right you have one of the highest success rates for cases of any analyst working in the industry right now

What.

In his mind, he had listed the hero's number as something to be used in emergencies only, which meant that he was actually going to be very careful and never have to use it. But the hero had texted him, and texted something like that and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. And he had opened the message, which meant that he knew he had seen it, which meant he had to reply, and fast, so that he didn't seem weirder than he already was. He typed with shaking fingers:

Sent:

I don't know if that's true

He winced. He didn't mean to call the pro a liar.

Sent:

If it was, that's just because I'm picking up cases no one is looking at, and I get to pick them myself

There was an agonizing two minutes of no response, and then:

From Mind Jack:

I guess that could be the case

OR you just don't tell anyone anything until you know you're right

which is all well and good, but you don't have to do that

well not with me anyways

don't hesitate with info that could save someone.

Izuku sniffed and wiped at his eyes

Sent:

I won't.

Hitoshi dragged himself through the door of his apartment and draped himself over the couch. It had been a long, tiring patrol, he was exhausted, and the fact that his hero costume was both inconspicuous and fairly comfortable lead to many bad habits. He didn't have to get changed and showered before checking in with his agency, and more than once had fallen asleep on the couch in this exact position after coming home. The only thing that stopped him this time was his cat, a fat, old grey-furred menace he had lovingly named Shithead, leaping into his lap and yowling for food. He held out until the cat started kneading at his leg and he was forced to get up to feed her and himself.

Aside from the purring of his cat and the sound of kibble food hitting the side of the bowl, Hitoshi's apartment was dark and quiet. When he had first graduated and moved out his roommate had been Sero, of all people. It was mostly for convenience -- the agency Hanta had landed a sidekick job with had been nearby and Hitoshi hadn't really minded the guy -- but like the rest of his class he got popular fast, quickly got a promotion, and moved on to a different agency where he got to be a proper spotlight hero. Now Hitoshi had a two bedroom apartment to himself, and only his cat had to know that he got a little lonely sometimes.

As someone who worked in the underground, things were different for Hitoshi than they were for his classmates, but then again, they had been different for him from the very start. His agency rarely assigned him cases, expecting him to find leads on his own. Really, it mostly functioned as an easy way for underground heroes to communicate with each other and the hero commission. Compared to spotlight agency, there weren't many benefits-- there was no main office, patrol hours were late at night, and the pay tended to be shit, but the lack of oversight did mean that Hitoshi had a lot of freedom in how he handled his job. For one thing, he had the luxury of being interested in possible vigilantes instead of being obligated to arrest them.

As moved to the kitchen and waited for the oil in the pan to heat he reviewed what he knew about Izuku Midoriya. It wasn't much, the contacts and addresses he'd had in his phone were sparse, and Hitoshi had avoided doing any real digging -- no database searches or background checks -- because that sort of thing would send red flags to certain people and he wasn't sure yet if he wanted to expose the man more than he had to. After visiting his apartment, he was glad he hadn't; the impression Hitoshi had gotten from Midoriya was that of someone who wasn't doing much more than just existing -- someone who's life had not gone all that well, if his reaction to meeting someone who's picture he had on his wall was shame. Someone who wanted to help, who wanted people to let him help, and didn't think that they would, enough so that he anonymized himself before trying.

There were a lot of reasons Midoriya might have done something like that, but after meeting him Hitoshi had gotten the distinct impression that past criminal acts were likely not one of them. In fact Hitoshi could almost see himself in his situation, if things had gone differently for him. Only, he had been an angry kid, he would have lashed out and done something stupid long before Midoriya had. The only reason he hadn't was because he had finally managed to find someone who believed in him. One person's support had really opened up a world of opportunity.

As he cracked an egg into the pan, Hitoshi idly wondered if anyone had ever offered if anyone had ever offered Midoriya that kind of support. Then he wondered if maybe he ought to pay his good luck forward.

He finished eating, did the dishes, and then stood under the hot water of the shower for a long time, thinking. Originally his curiosity in the not-quite-vigilante had been professional -- someone who  all but solved every case they touched couldn't have come out of nowhere. Then it had become worried, because as it turned out someone like that could come from nowhere, and would probably, very quickly, go back to nowhere if they weren't handled properly. He hoped that his visit to Midoriya had encouraged him to continue to help in safer ways, but he also knew first-hand just how addictive being able to help people, for once, was. It might have slowed him down, but unless he was made to stop -- and Hitoshi had no intention of forcing that either -- it was only a matter of time before Midoriya ended up worse than punched in the face.

Well, it was a hero's duty to stick their noses into places they weren't asked to.

Sent:

so hey

if in theory you met someone who hadn't had it great, but who still wanted to do good

and you could help them through means that were not expressly illegal but were frowned upon

what would you do?

From Dad:

are you looking an actual answer or confirmation of something you want to do anyways

either way I think you know what I'm going to say

Sent:

fair enough

Sometimes Izuku thought he was too cheerful of a person, what with all of the horrible things he regularly saw online. He didn't regret it, of course, but some days it became a little much. Like tonight: someone had dumped a bunch of files that had been taken in a data leak from a phone company. He was sure most of the people going through these files were looking for blackmail and passwords, but personally he had found a folder of photos of corpses that he was now trying to identify.

It was pretty weird that this sort of thing was the bright spot of his day. But even if it was morbid, it was. He was doing something, doing good.

It was just pretty sad, too. There was so much wrong with the world that despite all the heroes in it, even someone like him could find something they'd missed. Sometimes he wondered if the heroes resented that he was giving them more work to do. But, well, if he was going to help this was all he could do. Heroes did the real work, he just found the problems. He might really, really want to do more sometimes, but he didn't -- but it wouldn't be anything illegal, no, was just that he would be able to solve so much more if he did a little investigation of his own --

He did not go out and do any investigation of his own, because he had been warned not to do something like that. And he didn't ask for more information from the heroes, because he knew he already seemed suspicious enough as it was. In fact, the only contact he had with any hero outside of the messages he sent them was…

From Mind Jack:

oh do you like cats by the way

Mind Jack kept trying to keep up a text conversation with him, and Izuku couldn't figure out why. If it were for more information than he was really bad at it, and Izuku wasn't sure why he would need more anyways, considering the Pro had easy access to police databases. The pro had come to his house; surely he knew. But he had kept up communication. If it was a way of keeping tabs on him, it was a very strange way of doing it, since the hero never asked where he was or what he was doing.

Sent:

Yeah! I do

I've considered getting one but I feel like I don't have enough space

From Mind Jack:

I see, I see

well you know, a small apartment is better than the streets

so if, in theory, I found a stray that needed a home, you wouldn't be entirely opposed?

Sent:

Um

Are you threatening to give me a cat?

From Mind Jack:

not yet

but it comes up more often than you'd think

Sometimes he thought the pro was messaging him out of some sort of sent of obligation or pity, and then he would get a message like:

From Mind Jack:

Did you see the news about the Itakura gang?

Four guys robbing a jewelry store in broad daylight

pretty damn bold if you ask me

And… Clearly the hero wanted his thoughts on it, or he wouldn't have asked. It made Izuku a little nervous, made him feel like he was being tested… And in the end he couldn't help himself, he ended up looking up the news footage -- they had been bold, all four men in matching white hoodies, two of them waved to the security cameras right before they stormed the store. They had been sighted before, but before then had mostly stuck to small time robberies, like gas stations and convenience stores. Their quirks were unknown, but something about the way the group moved felt odd. He couldn't be sure, but…

Well, he had said he wouldn't hesitate to share info, hadn't he?

Sent:

Well for one thing the media is saying there were four people, but I think it's only two

One of them I think has some kind of illusion quirk, I think it's based on light diffraction? Each person has a copy, basically

You can tell because they make the same movements, even if it's on a time delay

I think the other one might have some kind of levitation/telekinesis quirk that he's using to make is look like the illusions can hold weight

Hard to tell though, they didn't broadcast what happened on the security cams inside the store very much

From Mind Jack:

huh

wow

now that you say it that really does seem to be the case, huh

Sent:

Oh! well it's all just speculation, I mean, It's impossible to know just from video footage, maybe one of them can mess with cameras or something.

From Mind Jack:

yeah, sure maybe

but from where I'm sitting it looks like you were pretty much spot on

and I do have access to the stuff inside the store, remember

Sent:

Well… If it seems right to you then feel free to pass the theory on. I hope it helps!

From Mind Jack:

of course

And that made a warmth flood into Izuku's chest, a warmth that crept its way onto his face if he thought about it for too long, which was embarrassing so he tried not to.

That was how things went for a little while -- work, gym, emailing heroes about crimes, strange text conversations with Mind Jack. That Friday his mother learned that he was thinking of getting a cat. The next Tuesday Mind Jack sent him the text that would change his life.

From Mind Jack:

ok so I have sort of an offer for you

well half an offer and half a request for a favor

I've been working on this case,  there's been a series of kidnappings across a few prefectures that are probably related

and they're also probably related to the one you stopped a few weeks ago

I want you to work on the case in an official capacity

Izuku had gotten that text while making dinner and stared at it for so long that his rice started to burn. He had gotten job offers from agencies before, but they were either unbelievable or something he couldn't go through with. This was… Different. Mind Jack knew, and he was still asking. With shaky hands, he typed out:

Sent:

If you really think that I can help, then I'd be happy to!

Hitoshi watched with an amused eye as Midoriya wandered into the café looking for all the world like a lost puppy. The address he had sent the man had been intentionally difficult to find. Not as a test --although he felt sure he would have passed if it had been -- but as a peculiarity of the location. The owner's quirk made it easy for him to keep out anyone he didn't want there, and he had made some effort to keep the place low key. As a result it had become quite the popular place among underground heroes, and, presumably, other types of people who didn't want to be overheard.

It was a shame that the coffee was shit, but Hitoshi could make due.

He smiled to himself. Funny how Midoriya could find the place, but not spot the pro hero waiting for him there. That was kind of by design, but it was still amusing. Hitoshi leaned out of the booth he had nestled into and waved him over; Midoriya took a moment to notice, but when he did he lowered his head and walked over fast, face red with embarrassment.

"Sorry…" He mumbled as he slid into the booth across from Hitoshi, 'I didn't recognize you without the mask."

The support item in question was around his neck, hidden underneath his capture weapon. The only thing concealing his identity at the moment was the hood pulled over his purple hair, though Midoriya seemed stunned enough just from seeing his mouth.

"That's sort of the idea."

Midoriya's eyes widened and he nodded excitedly, "Of course! Your costume is perfectly designed to let you go incognito at a moment's notice. I bet the jacket is reversible, too --"

Oh. That was a good suggestion. Hitoshi wondered if that would mess with the armor that was already sewn between the layers of fabric.

The green haired man flushed and looked down at his hands, "S-sorry. I get uhm... Carried away easily."

Hitoshi was able to keep himself from chuckling though he let a small smile creep onto his face. He supposed the enthusiasm must also extend to busting crime rings. It was almost a shame that someone so likeable was also too smart for their own good and was inevitably going to get themselves into trouble.

"It's not reversible, but it will be soon." As soon as he could be assed to find a support company to deal with it, anyways, "But we're not here to talk about my costume, we're here for you to do paperwork."

Midoriya blinked in confusion as Hitoshi slid a thin folder in front of him, brows furrowing as he opened it and started reading the first page.

"…This is for… Employment?"

Hitoshi snorted, only regretting it a little when Midoriya jumped in his seat and flushed red again.

"I told you that you'd be working on this officially, didn't I? Finish that up and you'll be the newest intern of the Greater Mustafu Area Underground Heroics Agency. Money payable per case completed."

Midoriya frowned, but he unhooked the pen from where it was clipped into the middle of the folder.

"I don't do this for money."

Well, based on the apartment, he didn't do much for money.

"You still deserve compensation for the hours you're putting in. And it's not like it'll be a lot. I did say intern after all."

Midoriya's face wrinkled up in a way that implied he didn't believe Hitoshi very much at all, but he started writing.

Honestly, it was a pain that intern had been the best Hitoshi could do. Underground agencies brought in analysts all the time, but usually it was analysts who had trained and gotten reputations at other, bigger agencies. Hiring independents wasn't unheard of, but Midoriya Izuku didn't have the resume for that. It would be totally different if he had been linked to his identity as a Concerned Citizen, but Hitoshi had gotten the impression that he was already toeing the line of what Midoriya would do without running away as it was.

He pulled another folder closer to himself, pretending to re-read the information inside while watching Midoriya over the top. There was still too much he didn't know about the man, and this would get a lot of his baseline questions answered. Maybe the big one, too. There were a lot of reasons someone could be living the way Midoriya did, but Hitoshi had a strong hunch -- one that got a lot more for evidence when Midoriya got to the third page and went dead still.

Hitoshi knew what page that was. It was the one where you declared if you had a quirk that could be applicable to the job and disclosed whether or not you were licensed to use it. Pretty standard on most agency job applications, these days. He was fully unsurprised when Midoriya marked the box that said he had no relevant quirk and flipped the page. Which didn't actually rule out anything, but again, evidence.

Also, now that Midoriya was officially being hired, Hitoshi had a perfectly valid excuse to go digging through the quirk registry and sending off for background checks without anyone asking why. That may or may not have been one of the reasons he had come up with this specific plan in the first place.

Midoriya finished filling out the rest of the paperwork quickly, and by the time he was done some of the vitality had returned to him. His smile was a little thin, but he didn't flinch away when Hitoshi thumbed through the papers he'd handed back to make sure he had gotten everything.

"Right. So we're waiting for someone else to show up before we talk case-stuff. You want a drink or something?"

Midoriya looked slowly from the half-empty cup on the table to Hitoshi, face painting a clear picture of uncertainty. Actually, he was probably using all that crazy brain-power he had to try and figure out what the socially acceptable thing to do in this situation was. Instead of letting him stew on it, Hitoshi just pushed himself to his feet with a slight sigh.

"Never mind, you're getting a drink. You like hot chocolate?"

Midoriya started stuttering something - a lot of things, probably - but never got past the first syllable of any of them.  He settled for a nod and looked back down at his fingernails very intensely. Hitoshi did not snicker, even if he wanted to a little bit, instead waving one hand vaguely at Midoriya and saying, "Keep an eye on the booth, will you?"

He ambled over to the counter to order said hot chocolate, but he still kept Midoriya in the corner of his eye. That meant he was exactly aware when the person he was waiting for walked through the doors behind him, because the man's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.

Tokoyami appeared next to him and ordered a black coffee. Hitoshi kept his mouth shut because him not ordering it 'as black as the depths of my soul ' was an improvement over last time, and he also wasn't certain that Tokoyami even had the proper taste buds to determine that what he had ordered was bad.

He let himself smirk as they walked back to the booth together, dropping the hot chocolate in front of Midoriya, who didn't even react.

"Right." he said, pulling out the file he had been pretending to read earlier, "Tsukuyomi, Midoriya. He's the analyst. Midoriya, Tsukuyomi. He's the one who found a decent amount of the info I'm about to hand you, and he's also working on this case."

Midoriya sucked in an audible breath, "You're Tsukuyomi, you --" he physically cut himself off by clamping his hands over his mouth, then said through his fingers, "I'm a fan. I'm really glad to meet you."

Tokoyami nodded his head and said, "Likewise."

ThenTokoyami  sat next to Midoriya in the booth and Hitoshi could practically hear his brain implode. The obvious fanboying would almost be cute if it didn't make Hitoshi's thoughts go down a dark path of for someone who idolizes heroes so much, it sure seems like you haven't had any of them actually looking out for you, how do good people always slip through the cracks --

Anyways.

Hitoshi spread the files out on the table facing his company, Midoriya's attention immediately snapping back to him once he started to explain.

The weird thing about the case was that people had been found -- every couple of days a missing person would turn up in an alley, disoriented, confused, and missing the memories of where they had been while they were gone, but with no injuries other than superficial cuts and bruises.

He spoke lowly, leaning over the table as he, "The trouble is, we can't  find anything that connects the victims. Quirk, gender, age, family or social status. It's almost like these are happening at random, but then we have no idea of the motive. No one has reported being asked for ransom money, and the fact that they're letting people go …"

Tokoyami clicked his beak, "Whatever they're after, it seems like it's something specific. We just don't know what."

Midoriya nodded in acknowledgement, but his eyes still flickered over the papers,lingering just a little longer on the profile of Aoi Nakano. Some part of Hitoshi hoped that he would just be able to figure it out here and now, but Midoriya's expression pulled from thoughtful into a frown the longer he read. Eventually he said, "These are the people they didn't want, right?"

"Partially." Hitoshi pointed at three of the pages, marked by the way he had folded down the edges "These two were saved from being taken away by Tsukuyomi here. From two men -- one in a grey jacket, and one in a black one, both with their faces covered." The look Midoriya shot up at him was sharp. Hitoshi tapped on Nakano's picture "And I think you know that the story here is much the same."

Midoriya pulled the papers in question closer, but his eyebrows only knitted tighter; he was as unable to find the connection as Hitoshi had been.

"As for the rest…" Hitoshi nodded at Tokoyami who pulled a much thicker folder from the folds of his cloak and handed it to Midoriya, who blinked in surprise.

"Missing persons reports." He explained, "We can't really sort through who's related to this case or not, but it may have good information."

Midoriya thumbed through that folder, too. No sudden revelation came from there, either, but when he looked up it was with a light in his eyes and a set to his jaw that made Hitoshi want to sit up a little straighter.

"Thank you for trusting me with this. Mind Jack, Tsukuyomi. I promise, I'm going to solve this."

The feeling at the table was electric, Hitoshi knew that Tokoyami felt it too with the way his feathers ruffled up. It was a bold statement, but right then? Hitoshi believed it.

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

Pikachu…Two!: guys… I miss them…

Hard Hardman: Oh no, bro did you get broken up with?? My condolences

I like big beats: I don't think so

I like big beats: I would have gotten a crying phone call by now I think

Pikachu…Two!: not a breakup but it might as well be

Pikachu…Two!: the concerned citizen stopped emailing me :'(

I like big beats: oh lmaoo

I like big beats: so actually you miss being lazy?

Pikachu…Two!: i mean

Pikachu…Two!: yes but not just that!

Sexier Xenomorph: actually I haven't gotten anything from them in a little while either!

Sexier Xenomorph: I mean the messages are usually spotty but this is much longer than usual

Hard Hardman: I just checked and I haven't either!

Sexier Xenomorph: Hmm

Sexier Xenomorph: Has anyone gotten a message? Say aye!

Pikachu…Two!: oh no

Pikachu…Two!: did they finally get caught??

frog.: I haven't gotten any messages from them recently. Though I thought that we confirmed they weren't a criminal?

Die: Who the FUCK are you talking about?

spaced out: ooh look who's here :)

Pikachu…Two!: uhhh the Concerned Citizen??

Pikachu…Two!: u know, the person who emails you and instantly solves the case that they r warning you abt?

Die: No?? I don't know, why the hell are all of you acting like I would?

Sexier Xenomorph: wait omg omg

Sexier Xenomorph: kats have you never gotten an email from them??

Die: How many times do I have to tell you to can it with the fucking nicknames

Die: And no I've never gotten an email from them, still don't know what exactly you're fucking talking about.

Sexier Xenomorph: It's just like denks said! It's just this person who's been emailing us with like

Sexier Xenomorph: crime tips?

Sexier Xenomorph: except the tips are pretty much always enough to just straight up stop the crime

Sexier Xenomorph: like once they send me enough evidence to completely arrest like…every single member of a gang

spaced out: yeah! I think we've all gotten emails from them actually

spaced out: well not recently, kaminari is right, I haven't gotten any in over a week either

Die: What do you fucking mean everyone?

_: She means everyone! Well, in our class anyway

ultimate fly paper: Everyone but you, it seems ;)

ultimate fly paper: Also I haven't gotten any messages in a few weeks either

Pikachu…Two!: oh no now it's getting spooky

Pikachu…Two!: maybe something really did happen!

Ingenium: If you are truly worried, I do believe Mind Jack was keeping tabs on them, and you yourself said that he had additional information

Ingenium: Perhaps we could ask him to do a wellness check?

Pikachu…Two!: ooh good idea

Pikachu…Two!: you ping him though he'll just get mad at me

Ingenium: @Tired ™ People are concerned for the safety of someone you know about

Ingenium: It would be appreciated if you could put their minds at ease

Tired ™: oh for fucks sake

Tired ™: Iida your pings are the scariest shit on earth and you use that power for evil?

Ingenium: Apologies

Tired ™: whatever

Tired ™: citizen is fine, just working on something big right now

Pikachu…Two!: tell them we miss them!

Sexier Xenomorph: yeah!!

The first thing Izuku did after being officially hired was buy a corkboard and a map of the greater Mustafu area. Then he went back and got a bulk order of thumb-tacks, and got to work.

It was… Frustrating, to say the least. Mind Jack had been right when he had said there was no real pattern, and in fact he highly suspected that the kidnappings weren't even localized to only Mustafu. His eyes were tired and dry, but he still read each missing person's report down to its last detail.

He pinned the people who had been found to the board and covered their pages with highlighter and red pen

• Aoi Nakako - Female - 22 - Quirk: Poison Dart Frog - Saved
• Murano Eiji - Male - 49 - Quirk: Dream Control - Found
• Nagato Tsutomu - Male - 16 - Quirk: Sleep Inducement -Saved
• Mukai Tereuo - Male - 28 - Quirk: Pain Touch - Found
• Masakai Kyoko - Female - 35 - Quirk: Sensory Enhancement -Found
• Murai Suzume - Female - 55 - Quirk: Paralyzing Breath - Saved
• Hino Chie - Female - 34 - Quirk: Hypnosis - Found
• Sawa Masanori - Male - 20  - Quirk: Calming Aura - Found

They were all so… Different . All people were, of course, but it was a very eclectic group of people to try kidnapping. The only possible link he could draw between them were their quirks - they could all potentially be used to incapacitate someone, but that was far too broad. Pretty much every quirk on earth could be used to do that with the right application.

So he spent the days reading and re-reading, pulling at his hair and feeling more and more stuck. He stared at the thick folder of missing persons for hours. All he wanted was to help them, to make sure they were okay. Mind Jack and Tsukuyomi and all of these people were depending on him and he had nothing. And trying not to let himself get worked up over it didn't work out well either, not with the constant reminder that he wasn't helping, he couldn't help, he had made a horrible mistake ever getting involved, now people were depending on him and he was only wasting their time.

From Mind Jack:

Found someone else tonight, I'll get you the info tomorrow

The reminders weren't helping much, either.

For the first time since he had gotten the bookstore job, he called in sick. He felt sick, he wasn't able to make himself eat more than a handful of food at a time, and he couldn't fall asleep for more than a few hours.

He must have looked pretty bad the first time Mind Jack came to his apartment, but this time Izuku was sure he looked worse. When he opened his door to the pro hero and invited him in, Mind Jack's eyebrows shot up in alarm and all Izuku could do was hang his head.

He was disappointed in him. Of course he was disappointed, Mind Jack had put his faith in him and he hadn't been able to do anything .

The hero stood awkwardly in the middle of his apartment, eyes fixed for a long moment on the corkboard before they wandered back to Izuku.

"I… Hope I didn't wake you up?" He tried, and then stopped and sighed, "Or rather, I hope you've been sleeping."

Izuku just cringed further into himself. Of course, a hero would be upset with him for not taking care of himself, too. Why couldn't he be anything but a disappointment?

"I-I'm sorry, I-" he raised a hand to swipe at his eyes. He had managed to avoid crying in front of Mind Jack the first time, but it seemed he wouldn't be so lucky today, "I c-can't -- I can't, I haven't figured anything out."

He kept trying his hardest to muffle sobs as the hero in front of him went very still. It had been nice while it lasted but he was sure, this was the end. He had seen for how useless he was and wouldn't be allowed to contact a hero ever again --

"…I think I put too much pressure on you. Or didn't explain myself well enough. Probably both." Mind Jack's voice sounded a little strained. Then there was the sound of more movement and Izuku found a hand on each of his shoulders.

"Midoriya, could you look at me, please?"

It was spoken softly, a request, not a command, but Izuku still startled at the use of his name. Of course, the hero would know it, but he'd never said it out loud before. He took a shuddering breath and looked up.

Mind Jack had taken off his mask again and was staring at him with an expression that was… It was hard to read. Serious. Concerned. But not angry, not in a way Izuku was used to, at least. The pro took a deep breath.

"When I asked for your help on this, that was what I meant. I didn't mean for you to try and solve this on your own."

Izuku's resolve faltered and his eyes fell back to the floor, arms reflexively rising to grip at his chest as he tried not to sob again.

"But-- There are people depending on me now. W-we don't even know what's happening to them. I-I c-can't - I couldn’t --"

"Midoriya." Mind Jack's voice was firm, "Sometimes the information isn't all there and conclusions can't be drawn. And that… It sucks , but that's not on you. That’s why I brought you in like I did, so I can share what information we get until it can be solved."

Izuku let out another shuddering sob, and the dam broke. How could he still trust me, when I couldn't even do this? Slowly became, He asked for my help, and he still wants it. What they shared wasn't exactly a hug -- Izuku couldn't make his fingers let go of his own arms even if he'd had the courage to try something like that -- but he cried into Mind Jack's shoulder until he couldn't anymore. When he sniffled a final time and stepped away, the pro let out a breath and said, "Feel better?"

Izuku nodded. Now that the crushing weight of dread had lessened, he was starting to feel embarrassed. "S-sorry."

"Don't be," the hero waved it off, "It happens. More importantly, I need you to take care of yourself."

Izuku blinked and looked up at Mind Jack in confusion, and Mind Jack blinked back, confused that he was confused.

"…I get that there's potentially people's lives at stake here, but that includes yours, too.  Don't work yourself to death over this." Mind Jack's eyebrows only went higher as Izuku stared back at him, "…Shit, I’m bad at comforting people. Look just -- you're not responsible for anyone's life but yours, okay?"

"B-but-"

"No buts." The pro raised one hand, "If anyone in this case gets hurt, that’s on the villians, not on you. And we're going to stop them but that's harder to do when you're too stressed to think. Alright?"

Izuku wasn't quite sure he believed all that, but it sounded nice enough, and he didn't want to make Mind Jack worry more than he already had, so he nodded, and the hero seemed to relax.

"Okay," Mind Jack said, gesturing one hand at where a new folder had been placed on the counter, "That's the new info, but I'm pretty confident it's not casebreaking, so don't freak out over it. I have to go settle some stuff at the police station. You… make sure to look after yourself." He hesitated, "Consider that an order from a pro."

Izuku managed a weak smile at that,"I'll try."

And that was enough, for a while at least. Izuku managed to get back to his regular routine -- though the hours he spent at night were mostly spent looking at one specific case.

The chatroom he had seen that message in hadn't been active since, and the message itself had already been wiped -- a dead end; only without any other leads, Izuku wasn't willing to let it stay one. He found the website he had found the link on -- a forum where people would post a price and a few code words for what they wanted. It was usually drugs but not always, and maybe… Maybe the kidnappers were still operating on this site, maybe they weren't, but he was going to dig until he knew for sure.

(And Midoriya had always been about as safe about it as someone with a laptop working from home could feasibly be, but in a world with technology quirks that didn't necessarily mean much).

Hitoshi rubbed at his tired eyes and slumped over the arm of his couch. Somehow, despite the fact that there were no new developments in the case, Midoriya had dug up another lead in the form of a black-market website that the kidnappers may have been using to communicate. He had said it was probably nothing, which meant it was probably something, and he just wasn't confident of what. And that was after Hitoshi had found him having a breakdown over not making enough progress. He had hoped their conversation would have led to the man not working himself to death, but he was starting to get the feeling he was going to have to start doing wellness checks or something.

He sighed, earning him an annoyed glare from his cat, who was curled up on top the cushion near his head. He really wished he was better at this sort of thing. Sure, he had learned about comforting civilians after tragedies, but that wasn't at all similar to… Whatever it was he was trying to do. Trying to convince someone that their life had value, he supposed.

He should have known better than to just give him the case like he had. If that had been him, before he'd gotten any help, he would have done anything to make sure he didn't lose the opportunity. Really, Midoriya's response hadn't even been that surprising, which was why his thoughts kept circling around to it. Should have explained it better, or at least started out with a case that I knew he could solve… It wasn't as though he could take it back now, either. Rescinding trust like that would probably wipe out any of the progress he'd made and then some.

And as if the situation wasn't already complicated enough, he had gotten the background check that morning.

Midoriya Izuku was quirkless. Hitoshi didn't really know what to do with that nugget of information.

He had been banking on using the shared experience of having villainous quirks to convince Midoriya that, whatever it was, he was still capable of doing good. But Midoriya didn't have a villainous quirk, he had no quirk.

He hadn't had all that many encounters with people that he knew were quirkless, and most of them had not been very good. Generally, he met them on roofs.

He knew that quirkless people were treated badly. He knew the data on bullying, on murder, on suicide rates -- or he had learned it in high school, and was aware that it had only gotten worse since.

(And hell, Midoriya was his age. There was an over 50% chance of him being dead by now. It was no wonder he clung so tightly to the first lifeline he was thrown).

But knowing it was bad didn't tell him how it was bad, exactly. He had his own experiences, but being told you would only ever amount to doing evil wasn't exactly the same as being told you would never amount to anything. (Or… Whatever it was Midoriya had been told. He was making assumptions on that, too).

He flung an arm over his face to block out the light from his laptop screen. It was rare that Hitoshi ran across someone who was just so genuinely good like Midoriya seemed to be. Desperate to please, to do anything to help, without a care for what he was going to get out of it himself. Of course he was going to help him back, if he could. Someone like Midoriya deserved to live a happier life than it seemed like he had.

 His own fuck-ups aside, what was important right now was that Midoriya was alive, and that he stayed that way.

Usually he would fall asleep on the couch like this, but the way he had flung himself quickly led to an ache forming in his back. A sign he should try sleeping in his bed for once, then. He sat back up with a grunt, reaching out to cover his cat's face while giving her a scratch behind the ears.

"Don't give me that look." He chided, "I'm setting a good example, or whatever."

He spared a glance at his laptop and leaned forward to refresh the page one final time before going to bed. These were active hours for the site and there were a lot of new jobs, but nothing that caught his eye until the bottom of the page loaded. Whatever that job was, the asking price was five times higher than anything else listed right now. Certainly worth looking into, even if it wasn't related to what he was investigating right now.

It said

Single/M/don't worry about my quirk!

Just looking to get away for a bit

At first he frowned -- someone was paying for a hit -- then, as his eyes scanned the address his heart froze in his chest. He knew that place. He'd been there twice, it had been on the background check he'd read that morning. Good fucking thing he hadn't changed out of his costume, yet.

Everything sort of happened all at once.

Izuku was laying in bed, in the half-asleep daze that he always started awake from at least once before falling into an actual sleep. Usually it was some wandering thought or another that did it, but tonight he was startled awake by a muffled ringtone (a generic one that had come with the phone) from somewhere in the blankets in his bed. He scrabbled for it for a few moments before squinting at the bright screen.

If Mind Jack was calling him at 3 AM it was definitely important, right?

"Um. Hello?" He answered the phone very intelligently, still not fully certain if he was awake or not.

"Midoriya." It was Mind Jack's voice on the other end, breathless and undeniably worried . Well he was awake now. "You're in danger, pack a bag and get ready to go, I'm coming to pick you up."

Izuku hauled himself out of bed and over to his closet, reaching for the duffel bag he used when he went to go visit his mom.

"Okay… Okay I-" There was suddenly the sound of shattering glass from across the room, and his voice dropped to a shaky whisper, "I think there's someone on the fire escape?"

He yelped as something flew by him in the dark, sinking into the wall behind him with a solid sounding thunk. Then another projectile whizzed by, slicing into his arm as he instinctively raised them at the noise.

Suddenly everything was washed out in faded yellow light as someone flicked a switch. There were two men in his apartment -- one had arms covered with thick, red, plastic-like scales, the other was missing two fingers and brandishing a hunting knife.

"Oh.” Said Izuku, because he recognized them “you guys killed a woman last week, didn't you? Toma Takeo's ex-wife?"

That was a stupid thing to say, but for some reason, under threat of death, that was what came out. He didn't even have actual proof, just a few blurry photos and some trashy tabloids talking about how cut up the corpse had been. Maybe his would match, and they would be able connect the two deaths?

The man with the knife laughed -- rough and harsh in a way that made Izuku worry that he had some kind of fluid in his lungs -- and grinned.

"Well damn. Now we've gotta kill you for sure!"

Well, this was bad. Obviously people breaking into his apartment with the intent to kill him wasn't ever going to be good, but on top of that he had also cornered himself. He had been in similar enough situations enough times to know that his best shot of survival lay in getting into as public of a place as possible and hoping the attackers lost their nerve.

He let out a cry as something cut him from behind - the red scale embedded in the wall flew back to the man's arm, making a new cut as it went.

So not a projectile quirk, but a boomerang. One he probably doesn't have perfect control over, considering I'm still alive and conscious. 

A plan formed in his mind, half-baked and probably bad, and the only thing he had, right now. Mind Jack was still saying something on the phone -- his name, some curses, begging for him to say something. Not as relevant right now as him staying alive.

He blindly reached back with his other hand, grabbing a fistful of fabric from the closet. Winter clothes, mostly. It didn't matter. He ripped them off their hangars and threw them at the men, using the moment it bought him to duck around to the side, trying to get past them. It wasn't enough, a hand closed around his wrist and yanked him backwards. In a panic he swung his other fist towards the man, only for it to collide with the plates on his other arm and bloody his knuckles. With no option left he kicked at whatever he could reach, and was rewarded with his heel hitting something soft. The man cursed, his grip loosening enough for Izuku to yank himself free and stumble forward. And it was quite the stumble, had he really lost so much blood that he was already dizzy?

No, no, probably not, there was a ringing in his ears that probably had something to do with the other man's quirk, though he didn't dare spare a glance backwards to check. Instead he kept moving forwards, past the door, which he knew would take too long to unlock and open, and across the room to where the floor was covered in shards of glass. He had to hope that his socks would be enough to keep his feet from getting too cut up as he stumbled drunkenly to the window frame and pulled himself onto the fire escape. A scale sunk itself into his other shoulder but he hardly broke stride. He had been stabbed worse than that in middle school.

The ringing in his ears got a little better once he was outside, not that he would have been able to stop if it hadn't. The fire escape was old and rusty and he probably had glass in his feet, but he ran down the steps anyway. He was down a floor before there was the sound of something snapping and there was suddenly a hole in the grate of the floor in front of him. And oh, wow, either this fire escape is really crappy or those scales are super powerful . He hesitated for a moment before stepping over it and moving on. It would probably be best if he kept them trying to use ranged attacks, because if either man tried to outrun him right now they would probably win.

He was down two more stories before he realized they were having some kind of muffled conversation above him, and then the entire fire escape started to vibrate and ring, and he fell to his hands and knees. Well that was neat, it must be some kind of quirk that let him vibrate metal, he probably had practiced with the knife to make that disorienting tone. He blinked, watching the rust flake off of the nearby railing to settle on his hands. At least this would wake up his neighbors, probably.

There was another clang as a scale ripped through the level above and just caught the edge of his hand. He blinked at it, at the phone where a call with Mind Jack was still ongoing. He was hearing this, right?

The fire escape shook with another, louder vibration as someone with heavy boots started moving around above him, the tone warping with every step. He dragged himself onto his knees, then shakily back onto his feet, before staggering down the next set of stairs, and the next, until he stood at the ladder. The thing was unreliable looking at the best of times, and had already come loose, the bottom leaving scratch marks on the top of the dumpster that had been illegally moved beneath it. Izuku tucked his phone under his chin and started climbing down, only for another scale to come sailing through to sever one half of the ladder from its base, sending it spinning wildly to one side. Before the metal could buckle under its own weight, Izuku let go, grunting as he impacted the lip of the dumpster, but ultimately glad it was there to break his fall.

He scrambled off of the bin and onto the ground as another scale pinned the lid next to him - that was plastic, though, it should have gone through no problem. Unless he's getting fatigued? Or maybe the power goes down after a certain range? That would explain why he didn’t just rip through my shoulder earlier. That in mind he started hobbling down the alley and into the street. It was late enough that no one would be out, but he could at least get in range of a security camera, somewhere.

He limped as fast as he was able. He hadn't actually been able to slow them down, hopefully they would at least struggle with the ladder.

He paused, risking a glance backwards as there was a series of shouts and a thump behind him, breath catching as he realized what had happened. The man with the knife was hanging over the side of the fire escape, wrapped firmly in what looked like a long bandage. The man with the red scales was standing stock still in the middle of one of a set of stirs, staring blankly at the man who was perched on the railing and panting for breath.

Izuku let himself collapse to the ground, watching for a moment as the mind controlled man turned around and started robotically walking down the fire escape.

A hero was here. He was going to be alright.

His feet weren't actually in that bad of shape, all things considered; he'd be limping for a while, but nothing too bad. The cut on his hand and, he realized with a ginger touch, his face, weren't really worth mentioning. The wounds on his shoulders weren't good, but he'd treated worse on himself before. If he could get to his first aid kit, he could at least patch things up before passing out. He was suddenly feeling very exhausted.

He watched, though he didn't really comprehend, as the man with the red scales somehow deftly maneuvered down the broken ladder to the ground. The man with the disorienting quirk was lowered to hang a few inches off the ground before a knife was taken to the capture weapon and he fell through the remaining space, hitting the ground with a solid thump .

"Take your friend to the street and wait for the police to arrest you." A voice came from behind them, sounding as tense as he'd ever heard it. Mind Jack's voice. Izuku's eyes strayed down to his bloody hand, where the call was still ongoing. He blinked and hung up. If something happened now, he could just yell.

"Midoriya, are you…?" Mind Jack's voice was closer, this time, the emotion in it now sounding something closer to concern. When Izuku looked up it was to see the man crouching next to him, eyebrows furrowed, one hand reaching out to him but frozen in place, "Are you okay? Can I check your wounds?"

"What? Um. Y-yeah I guess. I'm fine though, just a little scraped up --" His brain was already pretty scrambled from everything that had just happened, Mind Jack taking his face in one hand and oh-so-gently tilting it to one side really only served to muddle things more. Izuku suddenly found that his voice was an octave higher "I-it's not a big deal, I promise, I'm fine!"

"…Fine. you survived someone taking a hit out on you, and you're fine." Mind Jack sounded weary, now. He took a moment to look upwards at nothing,  but his eyes looked softer when he looked back down, "You know I'm believing that you're secretly a vigilante more and more every day."

"I-I'm not!" Izuku sputtered, filing the fact that someone had paid to have him killed firmly into the I'm dealing with that later, maybe never box, "I'm pretty sure that everything I did rests pretty firmly under self defense."

"Probably. Can you stand?"

He nodded, but as soon as he pushed himself to his feet he squeaked and sank back down to his knees, earning himself a weirdly concerned glare from the pro hero.

"I um. Stepped on glass? S-sorry."

He looked down at his blood streaked knees, suddenly realizing the situation he was in. He had wasted a pro hero's time by having to come be saved. His face was suddenly burning red with shame, eyes hot with unshed tears.

"I- sorry. Sorry." Was all he could say.

"...Midoriya." He couldn't bring himself to look up at the hero, earning a small sigh, oh great just annoy him more -- "Don't… Don't blame yourself for being a victim, alright? Fuck, if anything I should be apologizing to you for getting you into this mess."

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of a police siren blaring for just a second. Mind Jack hissed out something too soft to be heard, and then Izuku found a hand on his shoulder again.

"Okay, this is a conversation we're going to have to have later. Right now, I'm going to get you back up to your apartment, you're going to tell me what you need packed, and then I'm going to get you the fuck out of here and to a clinic before someone else can take the job. Alright?"

Izuku swiped at his eyes and nodded, then let out a very undignified noise as the pro hero's capture weapon looped around him and pulled him onto his back.

"It'll be easier if you hold on."

Izuku did loop his arms around the pro's neck after a moment's hesitation. The way he was wrapped up he didn't think he could fall if he wanted to, but it was more comfortable, if not incredibly embarrassing.

Then his stomach dropped out from under him as Mind Jack used the rest of his capture weapon to swing up several stories with only a grunt of effort. He had no trouble finding his apartment, at least, what with the broken window and the dozens of holes in the metal mesh of the fire escape outside.

He was placed on his bed and did his best to direct Mind Jack to everything he could think of that was important -- his laptop and the stuff for the case, methodically pulled down from the board and put back into a folder. His notebooks, which Mind Jack thankfully did not question. All the while the pro was distractedly sending texts.

"To the police." He explained at Izuku's questioning look, "I did leave two hitmen for them to pick up without much explanation. I'm going to stop by and talk to them on the way out."

Other than that Izuku figured he should bring some toiletries and… That was really it, wasn't it? He gingerly slipped his feet into his shoes and handed the pro a few sets of clothes from the dresser next to his bed, but with the exception of the furniture and a few small things he had all but moved out.

That felt… weird. Sad, almost, if it weren't for the fact that he lived that way on purpose.

"I… have first aid supplies in the bathroom, too. W-we probably don't need to go to a clinic, it's not that bad."

Mind Jack cast him a withering glance and looped the capture weapon around him again without warning.

"The fact that you think that's not that bad doesn't exactly inspire confidence in me. I'm taking you to a clinic."

Well, that tone didn't exactly leave any room for him to argue, so instead he just wrapped his arms around the pro hero's neck again and let himself be carried. This time Mind Jack didn't swing down, one of his arms occupied by the duffel bag as it was, but walked down the fire escape rather normally, only making the final leaps from the end of the escape to the dumpster and the ground. Izuku was jostled but he didn't really register it, quickly finding himself flagging now that everything was over.

Was it weird that he felt so safe right after he had almost been murdered? Maybe. Maybe not, considering he was currently slung over the back of the pro hero who had saved him.

He tried to pay attention as they got out of the alley and Mind Jack talked to the police. He caught a few words -- hitman, attempted murder, clinic, safe house -- before he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The first thing that registered to Izuku was that he was covered in something scratchy and tight. Then that he was thirsty, his brain felt fuzzy, and it hurt if he tried to move his left arm too much.

He was pretty sure the shower was running? Which was… weird. If he wasn't in the shower, why would it be on? Did he leave it on and fall asleep? Or, more likely, he had hurt himself. He did have vague memories of being in a clinic somewhere, of being half asleep on a medical bed while someone gave him stitches.

Ah, that was right. He was almost killed last night. Mind Jack had shown up and saved him and now he was…?

Izuku blinked his eyes open only to immediately squint into the bright blue fluorescent light on the ceiling.

Well, this certainly wasn't his apartment.

Izuku winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position and glanced around. The room was a solid, windowless block of grey concrete, On one side of his cot was a small, bare bones kitchen, and on the other, a cheap looking couch and coffee table sat across the wall from an unplugged TV. His duffel bag had been set on the floor nearby. There were two doors -- the sound of running water came through one of them, so he assumed it was the bathroom -- and the other appeared to be a thick metal security door. 

He sat and stared at the far wall for a long minute, trying to piece his thoughts together. He didn't think he'd done anything worthy enough to earn assassins being sent after him, but here he was with the wounds to prove it had happened.

He could only sit there and think for so long, though. Now that he was awake, he was also aware of just how uncomfortable he was. With a groan he slung his -- also apparently bandaged -- feet over the side of the bed and tested his weight on them. Someone had apparently slipped off his shoes. It stung, but the padding helped, and if he put most of his weight on the wall he could shuffle over to the kitchen area without issue. 

Even by his own low standards, the stock of food was a little pathetic. He supposed everything was meant for long term storage -- there was a container of rice, some cans of vegetables and tuna. Evaporated milk, dry pasta… In the end he found a package of meal-replacement protein jelly and a granola bar and fumbled around as he filled a glass of water for himself. While he dawdled around the kitchen, the shower shut off and he heard the squeak of a door opening behind him.

"Well, you shouldn't be on your feet yet." came Mind Jack's voice from behind him.

Even though Izuku knew who it would probably be, he still had to suppress a squeak of surprise. He put all his weight on the counter to turn and face the pro hero behind him, and oh. Oh gosh.

Izuku knew, in theory, what Mind Jack looked like out of costume. He had seen the man without a mask not all that long ago, though it was still with a raised hood and high scarf. Longer ago, he had seen him as a first-year gen-end student powering through the sports festival. (He had been conspicuously absent from the next two. Izuku suspected that he had already known he wanted to go underground). 

Time had been very kind to him.

For one thing, Izuku hadn't expected Mind Jack to dress even a little fashionably, but there he was, thumbs hooked into the pockets of a pair of skinny jeans, with a tight, dark colored v-neck. It was probably on purpose, to make the difference between his civilian and his hero identity more stark. And the kicker was that he could just wear this under the costume. It was ingenious, really.

Was he… Was he wearing eyeliner ? Izuku couldn't quite tell from here, but --

"Oh, take a picture, it'll last longer." While Izuku gaped at him, the pro's expression had stretched to a wide, amused grin, and somehow only got wider as Izuku flushed and flailed one hand in front of his face.

"I-I- uh. I'm s-so sorry Mind Jack I w-wasn't expecting --"

Mind Jack snorted, "Call me Shinso when I'm out of uniform. Shinso Hitoshi."

And, oh, that was a big deal, wasn't it? For an underground hero to give their real identity like that. Why on earth would Mind Jack -- would Shinso -- trust him like that?

Shinso didn't seem to think it was something worth having a minor melt down over-though. The pro rolled his eyes and said, "Come sit back down before I make you. You're injured, remember?"

Izuku nodded and kept his eyes to the ground and he shuffled back to the thin mattress, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged after a moment. He only raised his eyes when the other end of the bed dipped as someone -- Mind Jack -- Shinso -- god that was so --!   Sat down on the other end.

"So…" Started Shinso, "How're you feeling?"

Incredibly embarrassed?

"Uh. Fine?" At Shinso's unconvinced raise of an eyebrow he continued, "I mean I'm a little shaken up I guess but I'm okay, honest! M-mostly I'm just confused. I'm trying to figure out how this happened, I guess?"

Shinso's too-intense gaze lingered on him, "I suppose that's fair. I-" He hesitated, face falling into a frown, "I don't know if there's protocol for showing an analyst the message that led to their own hit. Do you think that's too traumatizing?"

Izuku blinked. "I don't… Feel very traumatized?"

It wasn't like he was particularly happy with the whole situation, but as far as bad major life events -- of which he had quite few -- went, this one had ended up with him getting a piggy-back ride from a pro hero. The concept was scary, but in execution, none of his bones were broken, so it was pretty okay.

"I don't know if I totally believe that, but okay. If you do, tell me." Shinso said, then reached into a pocket to pull out his phone with a small sigh. In a few moments he presented Izuku with a screenshot of the message that had sent a couple of hitmen after him.

Single/M/don't worry about my quirk!

Just looking to get away for a bit

Already, Izuku's mind was racing.

"For them to know that about me, but not know about me is--" he still couldn't easily bring himself to say quirkless, it had gotten him hurt too many times,"--it's weird, right? To just put my address out there means it was a first come first serve sort of thing, but presumably the hitmen would have been in contact with whoever posted the job to make sure they could get paid…"

Shinso didn't tell him to shut up or stop mumbling, even though Izuku hadn't meant to do it. Instead the hero got a thoughtful look on his face and nodded along. Then Izuku's eyes drifted up to the corner of the screen, where the clock read10:38 and his hands flew up to worry at his lips.

"Oh, I have work in twenty minutes, I should --" Shinso looked thoroughly unimpressed at his realization. "I'm not going to work am I?" He asked glumly. "Can I at least call in?"

The pro shook his head, "We're not turning on anything you own until I can get it checked to see how they found you. And no, If they knew where you lived they probably know where you work."

Izuku actually wasn't fully convinced of that yet, but he got the logic. Still, he pouted a little. He had liked that job, and he would have a hell of a time finding another.

"…Seriously though, are you really okay?" the purple haired man continued, "Attempted murder is kind of a lot."

To be totally honest Izuku was feeling more tangled emotions about the man looking at him than he was about possibly almost dying. He didn't know what that said about him.

"I really am fine. It comes with the job, right?"

Shinso looked at him incredulously, "Not generally like that, no." He sighed, "I wish we knew what you were targeted for, specifically. At any rate I'm really sorry all this happened to you."

Izuku couldn't stop the blush that rose to his cheeks, "W-well, I ended up okay, so it's fine!"

There really wasn't a way to explain 'I'm not that worried about almost dying, actually' to a pro hero in a way they would like to hear, was there? That… Was probably something Izuku should confront about himself. Instead of doing that he shot Shinso a wide smile, much to the hero's exasperation.

"It's not, really. But I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again." Shinso seemed on edge. Tired. Izuku found himself wondering if the man had gotten any sleep since last night and started worrying he hadn't when Shinso rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands, "It's sort of a pain, but do you mind being under protective custody until we figure this out?"

Before Izuku could say something damning like oh no, you don't need to waste any resources on me, Shinso continued, "That basically means you're going to be couch surfing between a few agencies so there'll always be a hero around to keep an eye on you. Unless you mind meeting a few more pros?"

Oh, that was tempting. Tempting enough for Izuku to consider agreeing. Except...

"Would they… Know who I am?"

Shinso's expression softened, "They'd only know you as Midoriya Izuku, the analyst. Anything else would be up for you to tell."

Izuku bit his lip. He was sort of already sold, but…

"Which agencies?"

"Well nothing's set in stone, yet, but I can pull in some favors. Shouto and Cellophane should be good for it; you can probably get away with staying in their sidekick apartments." He hummed, "Maybe Ground Zero?"

Izuku tried to hide the way he instinctively tensed up at the name, but the way Shinso's eyes flicked over to him told him he hadn't done it well enough.

"U-uh. M-maybe not Ground Zero? I-I'm not exactly a fan."

Shinso's frown was slight, but it was there, and it sent Izuku's heart beating faster in a panic. He had gotten through all this, but he was dead certain that if Kaachan -- if Bakugo -- realized what he had been doing he'd be forced to stop for sure. Especially now that he'd gotten himself hurt.

"I-I've had sort of a bad experience with him in the past." Wasn't that an understatement, "He… He doesn't like me much."

"...Fair enough." The pro conceded, though his eyes stayed fixed on Izuku with an unchanging expression, "He is kind of an asshole. I'll figure something out."

Oh god. Right. Mind Jack and Ground Zero were in the same class. That was why he knew Mind Jack in the first place. Izuku really, really hoped Shinso didn't mention him to Bakugo. He tried to smile in a way he hoped was convincing, "Shouto and Cellophane both sound great!"

"Mhm." Shinso nodded - then paused as he got a notification on his phone, "Ah, that would be your bodyguard."

The hero appeared to have to make a great effort to pull himself to his feet and over to the big metal door. He peeked through the peephole and started the arduous process of unlocking it -- it apparently required both his hero license and a bunch of biometric data, and Shinso spent a full two minutes undoing all the locks before he could pull the door open.

Tsukuyomi stepped through the door and bowed his head.

"What happened to you was a ghastly horror. I am truly ashamed I cannot do more than watch over you after the fact."

"Oh, no no! It's okay. You couldn't have known, and I ended up fine, so…"

He trailed off as he realized both heroes were looking at him.

"You keep saying that," said Shinso.

"Because I… Am?" Izuku didn't really understand why the pro thought he wasn't, at this point.

"Right." Shinso sighed, "Well, Tsukuyomi here is going to make sure you stay fine. I have some loose ends to tie up from last night or else it would be me, but…" he shrugged, "paperwork."

Izuku watched as Shinso crossed the room and went for the duffel bag. He probably should be embarrassed at the pro going through his suitcase, but he was the one who had packed it in the first place, and it seemed like he knew what he was after anyways - lifting his laptop and phone from where they were nestled on top of everything else.

"If you don't mind, I’m going to take these with me. To see if we can figure out how you got tracked down."

Shinso looked at him. Raised an eyebrow. Izuku blinked.

Oh, oh, he was actually asking.

"Y-yeah! Sure!"

He really wished he could figure out whatever look Shinso sent him at that response, but he really didn't know what to make of it.

"I'll see if I can't replace it with something more secure, in the meantime."

Shinso stood up a little straighter, his free hand roaming to the back of his neck. Maybe he was about to say something else, but Izuku wasn't really paying attention to that at this point.

"You…Want me to keep working on the case?"

He didn't mean for his voice to come out sounding so small, but this whole time some small part of him had been assuming that he had messed up too badly already, that Mind Jack wouldn't want to work with him anymore. But it seemed that wasn't the case, Shinso looked right at him, small sparkle in his eye as he said, "If you still want to after all this? Then yeah, we'd love to have you."

Izuku hadn't cried all morning, but his eyes were starting to feel suspiciously hot and he knew his voice would wobble if he tried to talk, so he just nodded a few times and hoped it got his point across.

"Right, well --" Shinso spared a glance at Tsukuyomi, who had made his way over to sit on the far corner of the couch, "-- Unless I'm missing anything, I have a date with an interrogation room. No one get hurt while I'm gone."

"You would dare tempt fate?" It was impossible for Izuku to tell if Tsukuyomi was joking, but Shinso waved it off as he made for the door.

The security door closed with a resounding slam, and when it faded the awkward silence between him and Tsukuyomi immediately became unbearable. Izuku lasted ten seconds before he cleared his throat, and announced with a squeaky voice, "I'm going to go to the bathroom and clean up!"

"If you require any assistance--"

"No, no, I've got it!" said Izuku, even as he was hobbling towards the door.

The bathroom was actually sizably bigger than the one in his apartment, which Izuku really appreciated because it meant he could sit on the floor of the shower and think about his life for a little while.

(It wasn't like he was asking himself how he had ended up here, there was a logical set of cause and effect that had caused that; he was more asking himself how all of this could even be real ).

When he went looking for a towel he ended up digging through the set of drawers that appeared to have been built into the wall on the far side from the shower. He found one, but he also found what appeared to be extra sets of street clothes and hero uniforms -- not just Mind Jack's, but he was pretty sure that the colorful bandana and pants belonged to Miss Joke! Which was so cool, the agency must keep backups here in case of emergencies.

Izuku resisted the urge to be nosy and instead turned his attention to the well-stocked first aid kit that had been left sitting on the counter. He got the impression that if he didn't try and dress his wounds either Tsukuyomi or Mind Jack would make him, and that sounded worse than getting in trouble for using the supplies. In any case, he had done this enough times to know how to treat his own wounds, and he found himself looking at his own cuts and bruises in mild wonder as he pulled the bandages away. He wished he could remember what kind of quirks the people at the clinic had, the wounds already looked over a week old.

He didn't end up taking any of the painkillers, though. He didn't want to push the hero's hospitality too far.

When he limped out of the bathroom Tsukuyomi gave him an appraising glance, but made no move to stop him as he went for his duffle bag and went for his newest notebook. He had things to figure out, only…

"Um…" He swallowed and looked up at the bird-headed hero, "Do you have a pen?"

Tsukuyomi opened his beak, but before he could reply another shape grew from his chest, a living shadow in the shape of a bird, holding a fancy pen in its beak.

"Here you go!" it chirped, dropping the pen on top of Izuku's notebook before retreating back into the man's chest.

Tsukuyomi, for his part, looked flustered, feathers fluffing up and out of place.

"I apologize for him, he can be quite frightening to those unprepared to meet him."

Izuku didn't think that it was frightening at all, though he might have looked it since his eyes were wide and his free hand had flown up to cover his mouth.

"No! It-- That was Dark Shadow right?" He didn't wait for confirmation, what else would that have been, "Does it -- Can he--" He ended up biting his lip to stop himself from asking any invasive questions, "He’s just really cool, is all!"

And then, before he could embarrass himself anymore, he fled back to the bed he had woken up on, folding his legs crosswise and putting his focus solely on his notebook and the situation that had happened last night.

To start with, the hitmen didn't seem to be very good . He was still alive, and he was quirkless, on top of the fact that he had been in a bad location to defend himself when they had shown up. And he had still managed to get away. He might not have if Mind Jack hadn't shown up, but he had gotten into public at least. Plus, he had been able to link another kill to them which was always pretty bad for contract killers. 

The listing for the hit, assuming there wasn’t more he hadn’t seen, was a mess, especially in the way it was vague about his (lack of) quirk. Maybe they had given more info on contact, but a quirkless victim would mean a cheaper hit; they didn't say that so it stood to reason that they didn't know. How were the hitmen supposed to prepare for him without knowing information like that? The whole thing felt sloppy.

But if they didn't have information on his quirk, then presumably they didn't know who he was. How did they find him? How did the hitmen know who they were supposed to kill? The only time his face had been associated with him stopping a crime was…

The only time he had run out and done something stupid like that was the case that had gotten this all started in the first place. Did they somehow realize that he was still meddling and decide to go after him? Had he been being stalked and not even noticed? It wasn't like he lived all that far away from where everything happened, he probably wouldn't be that hard to find. Especially so if they somehow did use a technology quirk on his stuff like Shinso thought.

It wasn’t certain, quirks could be tricky, but it really seemed like they might be linked...

And there was another thing, too. The hit had been listed on a website that he had been frequenting because he thought it might be related to the case. Somewhere that he might be able to see it. Did they know that? If they did, why?

Maybe… maybe he wasn't meant to die? Or maybe whoever put the hit out just didn't care? This felt more like they were planning to scare him off than actually kill him. But how were they expecting that to stop him when he had heroes on his side?

…Maybe they didn't know that?

Tsukuyomi, who had been silently observing his manic writing up until that point tilted his head in concern as Izuku put his head in a hand with a groan. "I think that whoever put that hit out on me thought I was a vigilante, too."

"I see," said Tsukuyomi, nonplussed, "That is quite unfortunate. Also, Mind Jack would like to know what you would like for lunch."

Tired ™: hey

Tired ™: you ever meet someone named Midoriya Izuku

Die: …

Die: where the FUCK did you hear that name.

Tired ™: work

Die: hell no

Die: fuck no

Die: fuck you

Die: I need more info than that, Eyebags

Die: work as in 'I just found a dead body'

Die: or work as in 'im sending a guy to jail'

Tired ™: neither?

Tired ™: ill take it you know him then

Die: yeah you could fucking say that

Die: im not going to ask again how YOU do

Tired ™: well thats good considering I already gave you the answer

Tired ™: I just want to know if he's like

Tired ™: someone you've arrested before or something

Die: ha

Die: no

Die: I don’t think that damn idiot could hurt a fly

Die: but I fucking could and if you don't spit up why youre talking about him out of nowhere im going to rip your tongue out through your asshole

Tired ™: youve used that threat on me before, whatever happened to creative intimidation

Tired ™: but you don’t have to be so worried

Tired ™: hes a civilian I found after an attack

Tired ™: seemed to get a little nervous when I mentioned you so I figured id check

Die: well fuck

Die: yeah that sounds about right

Die: just make sure he doesn’t get himself killed or whatever

Tired ™: that's kind of the plan, yeah

Tired ™: I take it im not getting more of an explanation than that

Die: hell no, fuck off and die

When Hitoshi returned four hours later, carrying a bag of Thai food and a brand new laptop, everyone in the room was sitting exactly where he'd left them.

"Don't get up, or so help me god, I am not handing over this extra secure laptop to you." He threatened as Midoriya tried to move to greet him. Hitoshi wondered, not for the first time, what exactly Midoriya had been through, that the pain of walking after having glass in his feet wasn't enough to stop him from being enthusiastic. What could possibly have led to both the pain tolerance and the unending optimism?

He handed over the food first -- Tokoyami got something with peanuts, while he and Midoriya enjoyed their own styrofoam boxes of pad thai.

Hitoshi collapsed onto the couch and observed for a long moment before starting to dig into his own food. He hadn't been out all that long, but it had all been exhausting. Dealing with the police and hero agencies always was. It was worth it though, there had been a lot of good news.

"So it seems like the hitmen are probably gonna talk. Willing to spill information to go to a normal max security prison instead of Tartarus." He let himself crack a smile and noticed that Midoriya did the same. Tartarus was never an option for them -- they were bad, but not that bad. For his part, Tokoyami impassively chewed on a noodle.

"Good news about your stuff, too." He pointed a chopstick at where he had set the two laptops and phone on the coffee table, "Your phone was clean, and the sweep I got done only found a pretty simple tracking quirk on your laptop. The new one should send you an alert if something like that happens again, barring something weird."

Midoriya nodded, eyes all alight and eager. He had noticed the ink stained hand and open notebook when he had walked in, but it hadn't really hit him that Midoriya had been working until he saw that look.

"When you say simple, do you mean like my address, or just my general location?"

Hitoshi hesitated, food halfway to his mouth, some weird mixture of dread and pride pooling in his stomach. There was no way, no way, Midoriya had figured something out while he had been gone, had he? That message was as cryptic as it came.

"Probably just general location, no more specific than your apartment building."

"But they had my full address." Why was he smiling? "I think that the people who put the hit on me are tied to the case that we're working on right now." Izuku paused, blinked, "Also, I just remembered that the guys who attacked me last night confessed to murdering someone else. Someone should probably know that?"

Hitoshi clicked his mouth shut, then opened it again. The confidence Midoriya dropped all that with meant that he basically knew.

"How do you figure?"

Midoriya, who was talking about his own death, bounced excitedly as he spoke, "Well if the only information that quirk gave them was location, and nothing else, it's the only thing that makes sense. Every other crime I've turned in I've handed over to the heroes to deal with, and there wasn't really a way to link it back to me. But the one crime I have gotten involved with…" Midoriya blushed a little and looked down into his own takeout, "They saw my face. They're the only ones that would have been able to get more information on me."

"…Well shit then."

"Indeed." Tokoyami agreed.

Midoriya just looked pleased with himself, which made Hitoshi's heart ache in a weird way. All Midoriya wanted to do was help, even to the point of all this. And he was so damn smart and good at it and somehow no one had noticed.

Hitoshi suddenly felt very lucky that he had found Midoriya when he had.

"I'm going to take a nap," he announced into his noodles, "And when I wake up, you get to meet Cellophane."

Midoriya's smile was nothing short of blinding.

Cellophane's agency -- a fairly large one known as Bright Streets -- wasn't even all that far from the safehouse as it turned out. Close enough to walk to. Close enough that despite his feet, Izuku insisted he do so, because as fun as being carried around by a pro hero had been, he didn't want that to be his first impression on anyone there. It wasn't so bad, really, especially not once he had gotten his shoes back on and started ignoring the glances the heroes kept sending to each other when they thought he wasn't looking.

The building itself was a shiny square-ish thing situated on a busy street corner. It could have been easy to mistake for a normal office building, were it not for the multitude of balconies and flagpoles jutting out of rooms on the upper floors. As they approached he craned his neck up to watch with no small amount of awe as someone with some sort of flight quirk landed on a fourth story balcony and ducked inside.

"Not exactly the most secure place, I'll admit. Especially compared to a literal safehouse. But that seemed like a boring place to leave you, so…" Mind Jack had put his costume back on, so Izuku couldn't quite tell what his expression was anymore. It sounded like a grimace, though. "I'm hoping that no one would be stupid enough to attack you inside a literal hero agency, and if they are, well…"

The hero gestured at the front window, which had vinyl cutouts of the big heroes at the agency pasted over every square inch. Cellophane hadn't been with the agency all that long, but his popularity had led to him getting the biggest spread - an action shot of the man leaping somewhere, tape extended. Izuku thought the hero was pretty cool, he had debuted at #19, which was stupidly high for a new hero, and had stayed in exactly that spot as his classmates rose and fell around him. Generally, people thought he was dependable, humble, and friendly.

Izuku personally thought the way he had handled his own hero career was pretty smart - a lot of his class had tried founding their own agencies right away and gotten bogged down in the bureaucracy of it, the rest had accepted jobs as sidekicks and had only been able to start clawing their ways into actual hero positions somewhat recently. Whatever opportunity he had taken to get out of that had clearly worked for him.

"Oh I--" This time when he caught Tsukuyomi glancing, it was at him, "I was mumbling again, wasn't I? I'm so sorry-"

"Why?" said Mind Jack, pushing open the door and effectively ending the conversation.

A sidekick named Mist Manta gave them a tour, which Izuku only half paid attention to because her quirk was so cool, turning into mist like that would have so many applications --

"And this is where you'll be staying! I know there's two beds but unless we hire someone soon you should have the room to yourself!" The light blue skinned woman clapped for emphasis, "If you need anything, feel free to ask anyone here for help! We're heroes after all!"

Mind Jack snorted, though Izuku didn't know what for.

"Right, well. Thanks. I'm sure you'll be seeing more of all of us."

Mist Manta waved and took her leave, and Midoriya walked himself over to sit on the same bed where Shinso had tossed his bag. The three of them went silent for a long moment.

"Do you need any help getting situated?" Tsukuyomi was the one who broke it, gesturing at the duffel as though it wouldn't take less than a minute to unpack.

"Ah no, that's okay. I'd... Rather you guys try and find more on the case, you know?"

Mind Jack nodded at that, though the long time it took to open his eyes after he blinked betrayed how tired he still was after his nap, "We do actually have some things to follow up on, yeah. I'll be back to check on you tomorrow, though."

Izuku smiled at him and the pros let themselves out, Mind Jack with a casual wave, before closing the door. As soon as they were gone, he flopped onto the bed. He was finally alone, for the first time since he had almost been killed, finally able to admit to himself that the whole thing had been, if nothing else, exhausting. 

For the moment, though, he just wanted to lay there - in the sidekick apartments of a high ranking Pro Hero agency, by the way - and do nothing at all. It worked for a whole ten minutes, until his phone rang. He blinked. Sat up. The sound of the ringer was muffled by the duffle bag. No one called him except his mom and that was usually only on…

He blinked again. It was Friday. A little earlier than their usual time, but who else could it be? What was he supposed to tell her about all this?

Not wanting to worry her, he unzipped the bag and reached for his phone, only letting one more ring go through before swiping to accept the call.

"Hi mom, what's up!"

He grimaced at himself. His voice sounded rough with sleep, because he'd almost managed to get to that point before the call had come through.

"Oh Izu, are you feeling well? You sound a little under the weather…" His mom's voice instantly jumped to worry, just like he knew it would if he showed any weakness to her.

"Yeah mom, I'm okay I just… Well I was in bed? Almost asleep." That would not make her feel better about him maybe being sick, "It's been kinda crazy at work recently!"

Not a lie. He had done the paperwork, he was an intern.

"Oh I didn't mean to wake you up from your nap, dear. I just…" She still sounded worried. Bad. "Well, I got a call from Mitsuki saying that Katsuki-kun asked after you, if you'd believe it! She said he seemed to think you'd gotten in trouble…"

Oh no. No. No. Izuku tried to bite back the sudden wave of nausea as the realization hit. Mind Jack must have said something. Why wouldn't he have? It would only make sense to do due diligence when someone acted shifty about a hero in the top five.

His mom never knew about how bad Kaachan had been to him, and as long as she was friends with Mitsuki Bakugo, she would never find out.

"Oh no, I'm fine!" He hesitated, "Nothing for you to worry about, really. There was something that happened near my apartment, but a pro showed up!"

Well, in his apartment. Same difference.

He blinked. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten. He probably wouldn't be able to go back to his apartment, and with the window broken like it had been, there was no way he was getting his security deposit back. Not that he had ever really expected to.

"Oh sweetie." his mom sniffled, "I worry about you so much, sometimes. You should come to visit soon. Maybe we could plan a dinner with the Bakugos. Like old times?"

Ah. There was nothing he wanted to do less.

"M-Maybe around the holidays or something?" He said, trying to buy himself time, "If we want Kaachan to be there, I mean. You know how busy pros can be."

"Oh that's true…" His mom hummed, "I'll have to talk to Mitsuki more about it…"

Izuku let the conversation drift off to other things, but a knot of anxiety stayed coiled firmly in his chest.

Midoriya's hitmen had been exactly the break in the case the man had expected them to be.

One of the hitmen had admitted to meeting with a broker with whom Hitoshi was already passingly familiar. Familiar enough to net him a meeting with the man, at least. He hadn't wanted to talk, but it wasn't in the 'pay me' way, it was in the 'I think I'll die if I do' way. Luckily Hitoshi had gotten very good at getting people to talk, and so the broker told them how, for a few months now, he had been supplying some blue-collar looking men with small batches of different chemicals- usually not even anything actually illegal, just something they wanted under the radar. Different runners each time, to a few repeated locations. The orders had dropped off, until his usual contact showed up asking him to organize a hit, and well, Hitoshi knew the rest.

Finding the location the packages had been dropped off was easy enough, and he spent a few hours scouting out each area, trying to figure out where they could have gone from there. One set of security cam footage later he had a better idea, but at 3 AM a white pick-up truck drove by with its lights off and he followed it to where he was pretty sure was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

It pulled up to a harborside warehouse, through the gravel of the lot so it could park around the back, away from the street. Hitoshi watched from a rooftop as three people got out of the car, two men, faces covered, and a smaller figure who wasn't quite walking steadily. Drunk, maybe. Or maybe, maybe under the effect of a quirk that wouldn't let them remember where they’d been if they were found on a street corner days later. All three figures disappeared into a side door that, instead of going into the building, appeared to open to stairs that led down to some kind of basement level. (Which was also suspicious, in his opinion. Even in the age of quirks, having a basement right next to a body of water was expensive as hell.)

The information he could dig up on the warehouse on such short notice wasn't much, but the building was owned by someone who didn't appear to exist.

Twenty minutes later the two men re-appeared, got into their car, and drove away. Hitoshi recorded the plate numbers to run later and considered for a long moment how he wanted to handle this. He could, probably, use the element of surprise to get what he assumed was a kidnapping victim out tonight. But one wrong move from him could lose so much -- time, lives, intel …

In the end he buried his face in his capture weapon and crossed the lot. Without any backup, he wouldn’t be doing any saving tonight, as much as it burned at him. But he would be doing his best to make sure this all stopped. This was a dangerous option, the way the building sat low and far apart from its neighbors meant he couldn't just swing across to it and instead had to settle for bolting across the ground, until he reached the wall of the building. He let out a long breath as nothing else moved or raised an alarm. He couldn't check the basement, not without knowing he wouldn't be trapping himself inside. Instead he wrapped around the building until he reached the side where it faced the water. It was exposed here. Even this late at night a few boats moved sedately up and down the river, clearly in eyeshot under the moonlight.

But more importantly, for him, the ratty docks stretched up to a set of bay doors, and above those doors were a long row of windows. The light fixtures (thankfully turned off) didn't seem like they would support his weight, so instead he got a running start, and with a practiced movement leapt and pulled himself onto the tiny ledge above the door. It wasn't as silent as he'd hoped, his weight on the ledge causing it to creak loud enough to be heard. Not wanting to waste time, he looked through the window to see what he could find.

He wasn't really sure what he expected, but huge metal tanks and a confusing network of piping between them wasn't it. He didn't know what he was looking at, really. Most of the pipes led to a series of tables in the far wall that were covered in what appeared to be chemistry equipment. Drug manufacturing, then? But what he was looking at didn't match up with anything he knew about. It seemed more like some kind of fucked up research lab than it did a manufacturing plant, which when paired with the kidnappings raised a hell of a lot of red flags.

He dropped off the ledge and returned the way he came, across the gravel lot and up onto the roof he had been watching from, and from there he moved from building to building until he reached a police station, something prickling at the back of his neck all the while. Whatever that was, it was bad.

It wasn't the first time Hitoshi had helped plan a raid, but at the mention of possible human experimentation the amount of people wanting to help suddenly made everything run a lot smoother. If all went well, they'd be hitting the place tomorrow night, hopefully before anything too bad happened.

(Something in the back of his mind told him that something would go wrong. It always did. But that place had been too insecure, it shouldn't have been that easy for him to find, or to walk away from it like he had…)

It was almost sunset again before he could get away- stopping first at his apartment to feed his cat, where he paused to take a breather on the couch. He probably should take at least a nap, but he opened his phone first. He ignored the messages from the group chat, sent an emoji in response to the meme Kaminari sent him, and then paused at the last notification.

From Citizen:

Sorry if this is presumptuous of me or anything, but you said you'd be checking in on me in a day, and I haven't seen you yet?

I'm sure you're busy, I just wanted to make sure you're okay!

That was…

Well that it wasn't exactly the first time Midoriya had messaged him first, or anything, given how they met, but it was the first time he was doing it for anything close to a personal reason. And as he stared at the message it felt like his heart was rattling around in his chest like it had come loose.

Shit, he didn't mean to worry him.

Sent:

sorry about that

long day at the office, you could say

I'll check in soon.

with more intel, even

The response was immediate.

From Citizen:

That’s okay! Be safe.

It wasn't like no one had ever told him that before, but truthfully, he didn't get to hear the sentiment often. It didn't usually make him feel this funny.

Probably because he was putting so much effort into making sure Midoriya was the one who stayed safe. Not anything else. Definitely.

When he got back to Bright Streets and hauled himself up to the third floor (by way of the stairs, he wasn't an animal) he was wholly unsurprised to find Midoriya, sitting on the floor of the common area, back to the couch, typing away at something on his new laptop.

Hitoshi made no effort to be stealthy as he crossed the room, but the green-haired man still startled when he dropped to sit onto the couch behind him. His first reaction was to reach out and slam the laptop closed before he looked back and realized what it was. Hitoshi allowed himself a small smirk as he pulled off his mask.

"Working hard, I see?"

"Not as hard as you are, clearly." Midoriya grinned.

Hitoshi wasn't able to explain to himself why the fact that he found himself being sassed delightful. It was certainly better than the man shrinking in on himself and mumbling apologies.

"Well you'll be happy to know we're planning to raid a warehouse tomorrow night. Probably related to the case."

And, well. Midoriya was the analyst on this one, wasn't he? He listened with sparkling eyes as Hitoshi relayed to him the information he had found, nodding in agreement at his conclusions.

"I should see if I can figure out anything more about the place…" Midoriya pulled his laptop screen back up and Hitoshi's eyes zeroed in on it.

"Before that--" he interrupted, pointing a finger at the offending piece of technology, "Were you seriously looking at the same site that led to a hit getting put on you?"

Midoriya flushed a little red and protectively pulled his laptop closer.

"I didn't exactly have many other leads, you know. You said this laptop would alert me if something happened!"

"That's not the problem. I just…" Was there a sensitive way to put this? Did he need to, since Midoriya seemed to want to be so cavalier about it all? "I'm worried about the fact that you don't seem to care that you almost died. Even long time pros struggle with that sort of thing."

Midoriya just knitted his eyebrows together. Like the idea of someone being worried over that, or maybe over him was confusing.

"Well I- I'm not, really." He blinked as he realized what he had said, hands suddenly flying up as he gave a stuttered explanation, "I-It's not like I want to die or anything like that, b-but I'm… Well I'm… You know…" Midoriya gestured at himself. He didn't look particularly upset, even; more like he was embarrassed at being caught, "It's probably going to happen sooner or later. And if it happened because I was trying to do something good or help someone, then maybe it's not so bad, you know?"

"I--" Hitoshi started, before his voice faltered, finding himself speechless. Because holy shit that was somehow worse than he thought it would be, "Midoriya, that's not--"

Midoriya just stared up at him with wide green eyes, not even tearful…just watching. Worried for his reaction, maybe, but not looking guilty of having said anything wrong. Hitoshi knew what it was like to live in a world that told you it didn't want you, but not for so long that he ever grew to be at peace with it. He tried several times to say something, but it felt a little bit like something had scooped his heart out of his chest.

He took a breath that he couldn't quite hide the shakiness of.

"…You'd do a lot more good by staying alive, though." Hitoshi swallowed thickly, "I… Don't even know where to start with all that but I promise there are a lot of people who would care if you died. Probably a lot more than you realize. Which means they would want you to… I dunno… Value yourself? Worry about dying a little more?"

"I don't…" Izuku's face fell, lips turning down as he mumbled into his knees, "It's pretty much just my mom…"

"And me. And Tsukuyomi, and no, that's not just because it's our jobs." Hitoshi felt something hot building at the back of his throat. How the fuck had Aizawa handled him and all of his issues when he was a kid? He wasn't sure he could do this without breaking down.

He found one hand scratching at the back of his neck as he tried to figure out what to do. For one thing, he would absolutely be seeing if his agency's medical plan offered therapy to interns, but in the short term he had a much stupider idea.

"Hey! Hanta!" He called out. Midoriya jumped from the sudden rise in volume.

"Wh-" Whatever bad emotions had been fluttering behind the man's eyes were replaced with confusion, "H-he should have stopped patrolling over an hour ago, he's probably not even here--"

If Hitoshi knew his former roommate --and he did -- Sero had swung back into his agency, showered, gotten out of costume, and then had gotten distracted playing phone games at his desk. He was proven right on two of his three points when a suspiciously damp haired Cellophane poked his head out of the door at the far end of the hall.

"Oh, hey! Mind Jack!" Sero offered them a lazy smile and made his way over, revealing that he'd swapped his hero costume out for a too big white t-shirt and gym shorts. He extended one hand, "And you must be the analyst we're taking care of. Midoriya, right? Pleasure to meet you."

Midoriya reached up and shook it very tentatively, like it might bite him or something.

"Y-you too. I'm uh- I'm a pretty big fan, Cellophane. Sir."

"Aw, no need to be so formal. Sero is fine. Y'all need something?"

Midoriya blinked and looked over to Hitoshi, who had leaned back to sprawl a little more over the arm of the couch.

"Not really. I just wanted to ask if you've heard from the Citizen recently?"

Sero's face fell a bit at that, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Midoriya go pale. Sero was smart, he might be able to pick it up just from that if Midoriya wasn't careful. But Sero also knew how to keep his mouth shut when it counted.

"Aw, no I haven't. I don't think anyone has. Everyone's been pretty worried, you know? They were super helpful and all." he looked a little morose, "You're the one who actually talked to them, right? Did something happen?"

…Did something happen? Oh please. Hitoshi had to stop himself from rolling his eyes so that it wouldn't be any more obvious than it already was.

"…Yeah, actually. It’s a little complicated."

Sero nodded seriously, "You're a good hero, dude. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Then he turned to Midoriya and offered a wink, and Hitoshi knew at once that he had figured out at least a little bit of what was going on, "And you make sure to help him out. Alright?"

Midoriya nodded dumbly, eyes staying fixed on Cellophane as said he ought to get home and waved goodbye. Hitoshi leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, bringing his head level with Midoriya's.

"I can name at least fifteen pro heroes who have started worrying after you, you know."

"They wouldn't-- if they knew who I was-- "

Hitoshi leaned back and held up one hand; Midoriya stopped sputtering, shoulders tense.

"Speaking from experience, if they found out who you were, they would like you even more."

"I-- you --" Midoriya let out a strangled whine and reached out to shut the laptop, standing up in a sudden movement. He was flushed red up to the tips of his ears. Hitoshi just smiled back in a way he hoped was comforting, but which he knew probably wasn’t, "I'm going to bed now!"

Hitoshi let him go, chewing on one lip. That went… well? He was pretty sure it went well. He hadn't been hit with denial like he worried he would be, just embarrassment. And he could work with that. Maybe, just maybe, he stood a chance of making things better.

Hitoshi had known something was wrong, but he was almost disappointed that it turned out to be this. 

Evidently the people at the warehouse had realized he'd found them, had managed to make their escape in the less than twelve hours it had been since he'd found the place, and they'd taken pretty much everything with them. All that remained were metal tanks and skid marks on the ground, the remains of something being dragged out the same doors he'd perched on last night.

All told, it didn't turn out to be much of a raid at all.

He watched the other heroes investigate the scene from his perch on one of the catwalks, shoulders tense. He should have trusted his gut on how suspicious the whole place had been. Moving in too fast had cost them everything, including whatever victims had been here.

Hitoshi had to force himself not to beat himself up over this too badly, had to tell himself that sometimes, shit like this happened. It wasn’t the first time he’d fucked up, and for once there was at least some bright side.

He was right that there hadn't been any security cameras, or any real security of any kind, so even their escape was a sort of information: someone had a surveillance quirk, something that let them know he'd snooped. Something that he couldn't have accounted for. Shit happened. He knew that. It sucked, but he'd acted as best he knew how the with information he'd had.

Acknowledging that didn't make the sour taste in his mouth disappear though. He had seen someone who'd needed saving and let them get taken away. As if he wasn't personally invested in this case enough.

The basement had been plain concrete and cheap overhead lamps. Three small rooms with secure doors, but everything else removed. If that setup hadn't been worrying enough, Tentacole had turned his appendages to noses and confirmed that at least ten people had been through that room in the last week. A far cry from the three Hitoshi had seen last night.

There had been some residue of whatever had been in the tanks, at least. That had already been sampled and sent out to a lab to be identified, hopefully it would lead to them figuring out what they'd been trying to make in here.

He rubbed at his eyes, not reacting as Tsukuyomi climbed the catwalk to join him.

"My agency got ahold of the traffic cams and has finished searching through them. There didn't appear to be any suspicious movement in the timeframe you gave us."

"Mm. Figures. I'd bet they got it onto a boat. Harder for us to track." He took a moment to roll his shoulders, "Do you think we should bring Midoriya out here? I feel like there's not much to see."

From the corner of his eye, Hitoshi saw Tsukuyomi tilt his head to one side.

"I don't suppose it would harm anything. But I must say you put quite a lot of faith in someone so… Untested."

The other hero's tone was more questioning than it was accusatory. Hitoshi worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He knew he'd been obvious enough about Midoriya for Tsukuyomi to have guessed Midoriya's secret identity, too. But it wasn't really his secret to tell.

"He’s--" Probably the reason your agency moved up a spot in the rankings last month?  "…Yeah. I do."

Tsukuyomi only nodded. Honestly, that response may have been more obvious than anything else Hitoshi could have said. It wasn't as though he gave out his trust very easily.

He blinked as he felt a buzz in his pocket, and tried not to fumble with his phone as he pulled it out. The only reason it would ring while he was on duty was for an emergency, and speak of the fucking devil --

His heart rate spiked. He was in a god damn highly rated hero agency. What could have happened?

"Midoriya, what's going on?"

"Well, uh--" Midoriya's voice on the other end was quiet and nervous, but not frantic, "There's someone watching me?"

"…Explain." This situation was messing with Hitoshi's nerves. Midoriya should be surrounded by pros right now, that was sort of the point--

"Um! Well, There was an emergency? I think? T-There was a sort of explosion down the block so everyone left to go help with that. B-But I think too many people left? No one else is here. A-and I noticed this person standing in the parking garage next door. They h-haven't moved, and I'm pretty sure they're watching me, but I didn't want to do something weird and make them realize I knew? So I called you…"

Hitoshi immediately jumped to his feet and started power-walking out of the warehouse, Tsukuyomi didn't ask anything, but was hot on his heels.

"I-I'm sorry." Midoriya continued, quieter, "I'm so sorry. I-I'm sure you're working, I shouldn't have called, he hasn't even done anything--"

"No." Hitoshi cut him off, "I trust your instincts. You were right to call. Can you try to get somewhere where there are other people? A reception counter or the dispatch office?"

"I-" he could practically hear Midoriya overthinking things, "But if they come for me I don't want anyone else to get hurt…"

Right. Of course. Midoriya didn't have a single shred of self-preservation. He knew that.

"They're less likely to do something with witnesses around, and then no one gets hurt. Including you."

The silence on the other end of the line was telling, but eventually Midoriya said, "…Alright."

(They would not find out until much later that this particular situation had no quirks involved, just a suspicion that Mind Jack had been showing up at a new agency and a big window)

Izuku couldn't stop shaking. This was worse, somehow, than almost dying. That, at least, had been straight forward; this left too much room for his brain to run wild - what if someone else got hurt because of him, what if it was nothing, what if he was wasting everyone's time.

He had gone to the reception desk, like Mind Jack had suggested, smiled at the man in the chair and explained that he wasn't supposed to be left alone. He'd sat in a chair pushed up against the back wall, phone still in hand as Mind Jack stayed on the line, no doubt coming back for him again.

Why did this keep happening to him? There was no way he'd actually caused the villains enough of a problem to go through all this effort, was there? Now that it was clear he was working with heroes, any hit would have to be expensive, and incredibly well planned.

And well… Yeah . There'd been some kind of explosion at a building down the road (one that was not obviously a bomb, but Izuku had seen enough to know how easily accidents could be manufactured) close enough that Bright Streets had been the obvious choice to respond, but far enough away that no one registered it as a possible distraction. And there hadn't been a hero specifically assigned to protect him, so he'd been left alone. In fact, he'd been alone for at least fifteen minutes before he'd noticed the man watching him -- there was a small green space between the agency and the parking garage, and the man was standing in shadow. It was only Midoriya's insistence that he had to find something wrong that led to him spotting the watcher.

But he hadn't been attacked, and there were plenty of quirks, not to mention straight up weapons that could have taken him out cleanly from that distance. And now he was somewhere that, like Shinso had said, was probably not going to be attacked when there was a constant stream of heroes and sidekicks going through the doors.

So, assuming it wasn't just him overreacting, what had that even been about? As he tried to connect the dots the tremble in his arms only got worse.

"Um, Mind Jack?"

The other end of the line had been filled with the sound of wind and muffled thumps, but the hero acknowledged him with an "Mhm?"

"Do you think there's a chance that this is a trap? For you?"

It felt like a stretch. It was  far more likely that this was just a way for whoever was behind things to gather information on the agency or on him (or maybe on his connection to the pro he was on the phone with, in which case the call had been as bad an idea as his head kept telling him it was), but the pit that had opened up in his chest insisted otherwise.

"…It's a possibility." Came the voice on the other end of the line, "But I have Tsukuyomi with me, and I've alerted others so they know what's going on. It'll be fine."

"Right." Izuku breathed, "Okay."

"You're somewhere safe, right?"

"Y-yes!"

"Then I'm going to get off the line and coordinate some things. Let me know if anything changes. Okay?"

No, he didn't think it was okay, but he didn't know how to explain why, "Yeah, okay."

What followed was one of the longest forty-five minutes of Izuku's life. The receptionist kept casting him sympathetic glances as he bounced his leg up and down. Slowly, more heroes started to trickle into the building than out of it, whatever damage the explosion had caused having been mostly contained; the heroes remaining on the scene being the one with the quirks best suited for cleanup.

(And that was good, right? If something happened Mind Jack would have more backup).

His thoughts were starting to reach the dangerous point of maybe if I just took a look outside to check-- When Cellophane came through the door. His costume was streaked with soot and dust and his smile was obviously a little strained. He walked right up to where Izuku was hunched in his chair and bowed his head.

"Hey - uhm. I heard the gist of what happened. I'm so sorry about that, usually we're better organized. Which I know isn't an excuse, but I can promise this won't happen again --"

"You're damn right it won't."

The sound of Shinso's voice had the tension draining from Izuku's shoulders. When he appeared from behind Cellophane, the sight of his face had them hunching back up to his ears.

It was bloody, one eye squinted shut from the rivulets of red that were coming from somewhere above his hairline. As he walked up to the two of them it was with a slight limp and one hand pressed up to his side in a way that screamed injured. Despite all that, the look on his face read more as irritated than in pain.

"Apparently this shit is bad enough that you need to be in a place with actual security." Mind Jack shot a look at Cellophane, who looked suitably embarrassed at the whole situation, "Save the gift baskets for after the case is solved and show me to medical."

Cellophane obliged and Izuku stared after them for a moment before jumping up and scurrying after them.

"Was this from um- the person?" He asked awkwardly. He didn't really know how else to put it.

"Persons" Mind Jack shot him a wry look, "And yes. You know at a certain point I'm just going to have to start assuming every theory you have is true."

Izuku felt the blood drain from his face. "You mean…"

Shinso shrugged, the movement apparently pulling something that caused him to wince, "There was an ambush, yes. And they knew about my quirk. Tsukuyomi's too for that matter."

Both Izuku and Cellophane shot him a worried glance, and Mind Jack rolled his eyes, "He's fine. Better off than me, anyways. Trying to see if he can't catch any of the fuckers."

Cellophane grimaced, "They got away?"

That earned the spotlight hero and light smack on the arm from the underground one, "Hopefully not, you damn pessimist."

The three of them slid through the doors of the on site clinic - it was fairly busy, with sidekicks waiting around to have their cuts and scrapes from the earlier incident looked at, but when they caught sight of Mind Jack's state one of the medics shuffled them off to a private room. With Cellophane and Izuku on either side of him, Mind Jack was lifted more than he sat on the medical bed. It looked like the annoyance had mostly been replaced by his usual bone-tired look at this point, but when the medic pointed a pen at him and asked him what the damage was, the hero obliged by groaning, and then reaching to start peeling away his costume.

Izuku didn't realize what was happening until the last layer came off and Shinso Hitoshi was shirtless in front of him, and wow, yeah, he definitely had at least a bruised rib but oh my god --

"I'm-! Going to wait outside." His voice was squeaky and his face was no doubt hopelessly red -- of course he would be built, Izuku, he's a pro hero you don’t need to make it weird. He was pretty sure Cellophane laughed at him but he didn't stick around to find out, wandering out the door in a flushed daze and sliding down the wall until his face rested in his hands. He had to wave off at least one worried sidekick and tell them no, no, he wasn't hurt just waiting for someone.

For a few minutes he was more embarrassed than anxious, but once he'd settled, got it through his head that Mind Jack was alright it started creeping back into his chest. Whoever that was, they'd used him to try and hurt Mind Jack. And succeeded.

Was it too late to leave? To say that he didn't need to be protected if it got other people hurt? If it got Shinso hurt?

Logically he knew the hero (Heroes? Was Tsukuyomi going to come out of this injured, too?) wouldn't let him go at this point, because it would probably end up with him getting killed. But there was no way he was worth all that trouble, was he? From either side.

"And me," Shinso had said   "And Tsukuyomi, and no, that's not just because it's our jobs."

If that was true, then why ?

He blinked back the tears threatening to spill down his face. The way he saw it now there was really only one option: make himself as little of a burden as possible. The problem was that it meant both 'don't get in trouble' and 'do whatever they ask.' And what he'd been asked to do was help solve the case that was causing all these problems.

He tasted iron in his mouth from how hard he'd been biting on his cheek so he forced himself to straighten his back and take a deep breath. Mind Jack had gotten on to him for it before, but what else was he supposed to do now but work until this was solved?

The wrap of knuckles on the top of his head startled Izuku out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to a considerably less-shirtless Shinso, other hand pressing a patch of gauze into his hair.

"Not to repeat your words back at you but I'm fine." The hero offered him a tired smile that knotted as much of Izuku's insides as it unknotted, "But I'm accelerating the couch-hopping timeline. Go get your stuff, there's a car waiting for us outside."

Izuku blinked up at him, mouth open.

"We're going to Shoto's. He has an actual secure area at his agency." he supplied, sounding exasperated and -- (Not fond. Not fond. Izuku could not think like that right now). "Now go before I decide it'll be better for you never to leave my sight."

Izuku squeaked and darted away before the flush on his face returned, missing the sigh and the mutter of, "I feel like it's the only way I can stop something bad from happening to you."

(And if, on the car ride to Kyushu Izuku assured the clearly flagging hero that it was fine if he slept, that he would wake him up if something happened; if he gave Shinso a small smile and echoed the man's own words about taking care of himself back to him, watched him drift off with crossed arms and his head pressed up against the window, then that was between them and man driving the car).

Shoto's agency was a squat, brutalist little thing, and had been built directly across the street from Endeavour's agency. When the media had asked about the chance for family team ups, the Half-Cold Half-Hot hero told them in so many words, that no, there was no chance. His agency being so close was a challenge, a statement that he could do Endeavor's job, and do it better. As the number one aged, as the media talked about his retirement or fall from his coveted spot, it seemed more and more likely that his son's threat would become a reality.

Shinso had blinked awake around the time the car pulled up to the building, and Izuku dutifully looked straight ahead at the seat in front of him as the hero stretched and rubbed at his eyes.

"Right, okay." Shinso said, voice gravelly, "I'm pretty sure Shoto is going to be meeting us inside, in which case I should warn you about him. He's uh… Intense, I guess. Nosy, too. But if you ask him to lay off he will."

Izuku knew his chances of telling the 7th highest ranked hero in Japan to lay off were slim to none, but he nodded, grabbed his bag, and followed Mind Jack -- who was looking around like they could be attacked at any moment, even now -- into the building.

And... Yes. Yeah. Todoroki Shoto was waiting for them just inside the door. He was the only thing Izuku could really focus on at all in the wide reception room. The pro hero held out a hand to him and Izuku stared at it for a full second before Shoto said, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Uh! You too!" Izuku grabbed the hand probably a little too tight, but the pro didn't react beyond shaking it, "Midoriya Izuku!"

"So I hear. Follow me."

Izuku must have imagined the ghost of a smile he saw on Shoto's face before the hero turned and started leading them further inside. There were quite a few checks to get into whatever secure area he was being shown to -- They took an elevator to a sub-level, had to walk through some kind of scanner, and the security door here put the one at the safe room to shame. When they were inside Izuku cast a glance around, finding them in a short hallway that was basically a small replica of an office. At the furthest away from him were more security doors that, based on how cool it was down here, were probably for server rooms or files. They passed by a room with a long table and chairs-- for secret meetings, he hoped -- finally turning into what was basically a break room; white concrete walls, a dining table, couch, and a kitchenette. Still nicer, and larger, than his old apartment, which was starting to get a little annoying to realize.

The three of them sat at the table and were quiet for a moment, then Shoto started talking and that was roughly the moment Izuku felt like he had entered an alternate dimension. As though him being alone with two incredible, frankly beautiful, pro heroes wasn't enough, the hero currently ranked number 7 and predicted to be higher in the next rankings turned to Mind Jack and did not ask him about the case.

Shoto looked Shinso in the eye and asked, "So how is Shithead doing?"

For a moment Izuku's brain just… Stopped. Were they talking in code, or...?

"Oh, she's fine." Shinso said with a wry grin, "I'm sure she'll be mad at me when the case is over, since I'm making Hanta take care of her, but she's as spoiled as ever. I don't suppose you've changed your mind about fostering, have you?"

Izuku watched with wonder as Shoto's famously stoic face pulled into something like amusement, "I've been considering it."

And finally, Izuku was able to puzzle out what they were talking about, a small smile coming to his face, too, when he turned to Shinso and asked, "Do you ask everyone you meet to adopt a cat?"

"Pretty much." responded Shinso, totally seriously, and now Izuku was certain that the smile Shoto cracked was real. Izuku felt some tension wind out of him too. He wasn't sure he could ever really be totally at ease, given the situation, but that had helped.

"Oh, I had some questions by the way. Or observations, rather." Shoto continued. Izuku thought, for a moment, that it might be about cat-ownership, but the way Shinso instantly looked suspicious made him quickly rethink.

"He's not a celebrity. Or a pro. Or related to one." the underground hero said a little too quickly. But Shoto just frowned and said, "Define celebrity."

Mind Jack groaned and put his head on the table as Shoto continued, "I'm just saying that he's an analyst, and you were recently looking into someone known for their analysis. How did you two meet?"

Shoto asked it evenly, eyes locking on Izuku who was suddenly very much not at ease. Shinso glared up at the dual-haired man, "You don't have to --"

"I emailed him!" Izuku squeaked out. He knew he could lie, or say nothing, but in that moment he was more worried about disappointing the pro-heroes in front of him than keeping his cover, "I emailed him about a crime that was happening and he came to my apartment to check on me."

Shoto looked pleased, for some reason.

"And  you've emailed me, as well." It wasn't really a question, but Izuku nodded anyway, heart beating in his throat. It had been a good run, but it didn't really feel right to lie to the people who were currently defending his life. When he realized that Shinso had looked up at him as well he felt his face go pink with embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry. Was I not supposed to say anything? I w-wasn't-"

"It's fine." Shinso cut him off, "I'm just surprised that you did."

"Your emails have been very helpful." Shoto said with a nod. And, well, Mind Jack had told him the other pros had thought as much, but he hadn't really believed it. All Izuku could do was gape at the half-cold, half-hot hero, unable to say a word.

Shoto turned to look at Shinso with a twist to his lip that could only be described as smug.

Shinso rolled his eyes, "You can't say anything, you know. He is literally here under protective custody."

"I won't say anything." Shoto said severely. Then he knitted his eyebrows together, "I will say one thing, but it won't lead to anything dangerous."

Shinso just sighed and buried his face back into his arms with a groan.

"I." Izuku finally managed to wheeze, "Am in your care."

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

gov assigned pun name: I know who the concerned citizen is

Tired ™ : dont listen to him, hes a bitch

Sexier Xenomorph: w

Sexier Xenomorph: HELLO??

Pikachu…Two!: t

Pikachu…Two!:  TODOROKI SHOTO??? GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT?????

Pikachu…Two!: GHDHGGKH THEY BOTH WENT OFFLINE AGAIN IM GOING TO LOSE IT

_: ._.

ultimate fly paper: lmaooo

Hitoshi was tired. That was nothing new for him, not really, but it was starting to become the sort of tired that he couldn't just work through.

(He just wanted this to be over. He wanted everyone to be safe. He wanted one person, specifically, to be safe.)

He had spent the week on the move. Midoriya had found something, because of course he had -- the plate on the car at the warehouse had led back to a fake person, but a fake person who apparently owned several buildings all across the prefecture that he'd been investigating. Most of it had been nothing- empty lots, and abandoned offices - but Midoriya had the ability to turn tiny details into convincing leads, and that had led him to what must have been an old shopping center. Most of the buildings were long empty, but tonight he'd watched for twenty minutes as a pair of people loaded crates from the back of one of the buildings into a small moving truck. Really, the only thing suspicious about all of this was the hour. He spent that twenty minutes debating  if he should get in closer to investigate, given what had happened last time, but when both of the people disappeared inside he decided to take the risk.

He silently slipped from his hiding spot (crouched behind a half-wall, a horrible place were it not for the low light) and onto the truck with practiced ease. Each crate was more-or-less identical, and devoid of identifying markings, so he picked one at random and got to work. Moving quickly, he slipped his knife from its sheath and stuck it under the lid, slamming down on it with his other hand and cracking the top open enough for him to reach in and grab at whatever was inside. It felt like some sort of metal cylinder, but Hitoshi pushed the lid back down and absconded back to his hiding spot before examining what it was.

The answer, once he squinted at it for a bit, was obvious. He carried a few of the finished product with him, himself. This was the casing for a smoke-bomb, of some kind. Which… Was weird. And hopefully a coincidence, and not at all tied to the case, because if it was it raised some alarming questions about whatever drug they were trying to produce.

Waiting a bit longer saw the two figures exiting the store with another crate, apparently the last one, because when they pushed it into the back they slid the door shut behind it and circled around to the side doors, climbing inside the truck and taking off. Hitoshi decided to come back around to investigate the store later, for now he tailed the truck as it drove through the dark city. It wasn't difficult, and despite his suspicions, the drivers were going about as though their cargo was perfectly normal.

He wished he could have said he was less surprised when the car pulled up to the security gate of what appeared to be a perfectly legal, apparently in operation, pharmaceutical plant. That… would take some digging to get him in to, but holy hell was it a lead. A scary one.

He slipped back the way he came, stopping off at the shopping center to give it a once over -- the building the smoke bombs had come from was otherwise stripped clean and empty, he suspected this was simply a transfer of goods -- before going to the police station to put in his report and making the long trek back to Kyushu.

When he got back to the secure area it was to find Midoriya waiting for him with wide eyes. The green-haired man was sitting at the table, laptop open, papers spread over most of the available surface. Tired as Hitoshi was, it took him a moment to process that Midoriya was smiling at him.

"Midoriya it's… 5 in the morning." Well, he was pretty sure it was somewhere around that time.

"I…Genuinely didn't realize what time it was," Midoriya laughed nervously, gesturing at the wall, "there's no windows."

"Well far be it from me to get on to you for poor sleeping habits, as long as you do it sometime," Hitoshi responded with a shrug.  He made his way to the couch and slumped down onto it, "You find anything interesting?"

Midoriya's smile widened as he gestured at the mess in front of him, "I have a few theories. See, I did some research to find out that some of the chemicals that we got samples of are good for messing with DNA. And, well, since they're probably not trying to fix genetic diseases or anything I thought… the only DNA that you'd really want to mess with in the short term is someone's quirk factor."

Midoriya turned his laptop around so that Hitoshi could see the screen, not that he understood what he was looking at really. The analyst used his pen to point at what he vaguely remembered to be a drawing of a chemical structure.

"So I did some digging, and it turns out that quirk suppressant and Trigger have basically the same ingredients! The only difference is the active one…"

"Uh... Midoriya. Isn't the recipe for quirk suppressant a national secret?" Well, it wasn't the weirdest thing for Midoriya to be able to find out, if he thought about it. "You think they're making Trigger?"

If Midoriya had been maybe a little less sleep deprived, or excited about his findings the question might have made him stop in his tracks, but as it was, he had that beautiful determined light in his eyes and he simply responded, "Not every country has censorship laws as strict as Japan. And… they might be?" He turned his laptop back around to frown at it, "From what I understand, you can refine the final ingredient for Trigger from the DNA of pretty much anyone with an enhancer type quirk. So they can make Trigger, but I don't think that's their end goal. The kidnappings don't make sense if that's all they're doing."

Fuck, Hitoshi’s brain was working too slowly for this. "So… then, do you think they're trying to figure out how to replace the last ingredient in quirk suppressant?"

Midoriya tapped the  pen on his chin, "It's a real possibility. Since I'm pretty sure that the last ingredient for suppressants is super highly regulated. They could be trying to figure out a workaround."

As the information filtered through his mind, Hitoshi felt his blood run a little cold. A criminal organization having their own means of manufacture of quirk suppressant was bad. Really, really, bad. Doubly so if it was at all tied to what he'd found earlier that night.

"…I found some more stuff tonight, too. Uh, a company we're going to want to look into, but more than that, they got a delivery of smoke bomb materials. You'll get the report in the morning, but…"

Midoriya bit his lip, "Neither drug works in an aerosol like that, but if they're doing experiments…"

The man pulled his computer closer and started clicking away, likely looking at things Hitoshi couldn't even begin to comprehend in his current state. So he fell quiet and watched Midoriya work. It was almost mesmerizing, to see Midoriya move without his usual self doubt. He was so absorbed in his work he likely didn't realize there was a difference, but there was a small smile on his lips, when they weren't muttering, and there was a brightness in his eyes that Hitoshi desperately wanted to make a permanent fixture. He kept having to push his hair back from his eyes, and every time it happened Hitoshi thought, cute. Around the third time, he realized what he was thinking.

Oh. Hitoshi blinked. Oh, fuck.

Yeah , he already knew he was way too invested in this case, but now he had gone and developed the world's most unprofessional crush on top of it all. Midoriya was both his charge and his co-worker, kind of. And… Well. Well, he could just do the same thing he'd done with every other crush he'd ever had and never act on it. Certainly not until everything was solved, and probably not after, either. 

Which was easier said than done, he had not missed just how easily he was able to get Midoriya flustered.

It's just because you're a pro, he told himself, just because you took an interest in him. An interest that he deserved to have, but whatever. This was fine. Easily ignoreable. And he was dedicated to keeping Midoriya safe no matter what his personal feelings on the matter were, anyways.

Thankfully, he was so worn out that despite his spiraling thoughts he managed to drift off, slumped over on the couch in much the same way he would have at home.

Around 7 AM Izuku looked up to notice that Mind Jack had fallen asleep on the couch, and had done so without folding it out into a bed like it was supposed to be. He smiled at the sight for a long moment. Shinso had clearly needed some sleep and it was nice to see him looking a little relaxed, for once. Sure, it meant that he probably wasn't going to be getting any rest until the pro hero woke up, but that was fine. 

He had a lot of work to do.

It wasn't that Izuku was out of leads, exactly, it was more that he'd come to a dead end on the one lead he really thought was right.

Hirata Pharmaceuticals was, in fact, a legitimate business. Most of what they produced were painkillers, and in terms of company scandals all he could find were higher-ups taking early retirements because of harassment allegations. But Mind Jack had seen the truck pulling into the place, had confirmed with his own hands the smoke bomb materials; there was clearly something else going on there that Izuku wasn't finding. 

The pro hero had started the agonizingly slow process of getting a warrant so he could investigate the place undercover. It was still probably going to take a few days at least, and that was with the threat of quirk suppressant on the line. (Apparently his line of evidence linking the place Shinso had followed the van from originally to the rest of the crimes was 'weak', but the movement of weapon materials into the building was enough to keep them from dismissing the idea entirely). He dug up all there was to find on the company in less than 3 hours, including blueprints of the building, which he happily sent along to Mind Jack, before he lost the ability to focus entirely. The web of leads was ever-growing, but to him everything pointed to one suspiciously un-suspicious company that he couldn’t do anything more about.

Down in the fortified bunker they had him in there wasn't much by way of distraction. Sure, he had the internet, but at this point using it for anything but the case made him feel guilty. He idly looked more into one of the men Tsukuyomi had captured after the trap only to be faced with nothing much of note. Not much online presence from him, and no family he could find. Likely just a thug who’d been hired to cause a commotion. 

In fact, he was alone most of the time -- though he was sure that there was someone watching the security cameras that lined the halls. The only real change in his routine was when Mind Jack or Shoto would join him. Mind Jack would appear at random hours and usually nod off somewhere, but Shoto would quietly sit at the table with him and do paperwork.

"It's no different from doing it at my desk." He'd claimed, "And you looked like you could use the company."

…Izuku couldn't puzzle out why he was doing it, and he was too afraid to ask -- the assumption that Shoto was just being a good hero at war in his head with ‘no, that's not just because it's our jobs.’

It was during one of those strange evenings, where Shoto was sitting quietly with him, that he finally decided that if he couldn't focus anyways, and if the heroes were working so hard, maybe he could do something nice for them.

He took a deep breath and tried not to stutter too badly to the pro hero.

"Ah - Shoto? Sir?" He offered a shaky smile as the hero turned his unreadable stare on him, "I was wondering if… If you had any idea on uh-- when Mind Jack is coming back today?"

The only indication that Shoto gave that he thought it was a strange question was a slight downward quirk to one side of his mouth.

"If you need to pass on some information…"

"Ah! No." Izuku waved his hands around his face, "Nothing like that I just… Well he's been working so hard - uh, not that you haven't been either! And when I have trouble focusing I try to find a distraction, so I thought I could do something for you guys and maybe cook everyone dinner. Or... something…?"

"I see." Shoto's expression did not change, but Izuku got the distinct impression that he was being teased, "Well he should be back earlier than usual, since he's mostly doing paperwork right now. I'll let him know."

"Uh." said Izuku brightly, "Okay!"

As it turned out, the security room he'd been living in had just about the same supply of groceries that the saferoom did. Canned food, dry goods, all things meant to last so they wouldn't have to be replaced as time went on. He wound up making a weird vegetable and rice dish that was somewhere between a stir fry and a pilaf. It wasn't bad though, especially not once he'd found a can of coconut milk and made a sort-of curry to go with it. And it was totally worth the effort when Shinso arrived and stood in the doorway, face scrunched in confusion as he looked from the dishes on the table to the pot still on the hot-plate. 

"When you said there would be dinner here, I wasn't expecting…" The two pro heroes shared a series of looks and raised eyebrows that were totally unintelligible, before Shinso turned to Izuku, "…Did you cook this? With the stuff here?"

"Y-yeah. I was kind of going for a home cooked meal but… Well you work with what you have!"

"…Well it smells good." Shinso said suspiciously as he sat down, and then tentatively took a bite. He frowned into his bowl and for a brief moment Izuku panicked, an apology on the tip of his tongue. Before he could Shinso said, "Well this is just unfair."

The most coherent reply Izuku could manage was, "huh?"

Shinso just pointed his chopsticks at him, "That you can cook, too. I don't know why I thought otherwise but if this is what you make out of shelf-stable garbage then I want to know what you make when you have access to actual groceries."

"Oh, well I-" Izuku blushed and ducked his head, "Maybe as a celebration when we're done? If uh- You guys want? It's really nothing special though…"

"It's better than anything either of us can do, I promise you that." Shinso said - there was a thump of what was probably someone kicking someone else under the table, though no one's expression changed and Izuku couldn't tell who had attacked whom.

He stared a little obviously as both heroes dug into their dinners. They didn't seem to be pretending for his sake, and he'd never seen either of them eat anything but takeout, but his cooking wasn't really anything special. And not in a downplaying-his-skills sort of way -- he had nothing on his mom, and it wasn't like she was a professional chef or anything, either.

Did…Did UA not have a home-economics class or something? Maybe it was cut out of the hero course curriculum? Did the heroes he was sitting with not know how to cook?

The thought almost made him laugh out loud, as embarrassing as that would be, and he was only saved by Shoto deciding to make conversation by asking, "So, how did you get into this line of work?"

Izuku had to remind himself not to freak out -- Shoto, more than likely, already knew -- and in fact he managed to remember that without the smile even dropping from his face. He was nosy, right.

" I uh, just noticed things that didn't seem right sometimes? And I figured someone should know?"

"Freelancing." Remarked Shinso dryly, "He was literally a concerned citizen."

Izuku thought he had learned enough of Shoto's body language by now to recognize the single blink as 'I'm taken aback by this answer'. Then it was Izuku's turn to be taken aback himsel, as Shinso continued, "I always meant to ask, but where did you learn your analysis from?"

"Just…practice, I guess?" Izuku scratched at one of his cheeks self-consciously, "I used to do for as a hobby when I was a kid."

"Analysis as a… Hobby?" Shoto looked intrigued, at which Shinso rolled his eyes.

"Says the guy who keeps bonsai, " Shinso shot back. Shoto squinted, and that did draw a small chuckle from Izuku.

…Despite the circumstances, down here in between two very intimidating pro heroes, he felt more comfortable talking about himself than he had in years. It felt like he was among friends.

"Yeah I… I know it sounds silly now, but back then I wanted to be a hero. Even though I'm…" he tried to laugh off the fact that he still didn't want to say the word quirkless , but it was breathy and unbelievable, "I thought that if I just… paid really close attention and studied everything I could about heroes that I could be one too you know? But uh… I mean I'm glad it ended up being useful for something, you know?"

…Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, Izuku thought, or at least said something less depressing, because his explanation had the heroes sharing another unreadable look and his appetite disappearing. Still, eating was preferable to looking up and seeing whatever pitying looks the other two had for him, so he buried his face into his rice, and subsequently jumped when Shoto's even voice said, "So you don't want to be a hero anymore?"

Izuku froze.

Did he?

It was a question he'd been avoiding seriously asking himself for years, because the answer hurt too bad.

Of course he did. He wanted nothing more than to save people, to make them feel safe, to help. But…

"I can't."

He didn't look up, didn't see the look of commiseration that the heroes shared.

"But you would if you could?" Shinso's voice was even, carefully devoid of pity. Izuku dipped his head further down regardless.

"I can't." He insisted, "Even if I was strong enough to make a difference, getting a license at my age would require hero agency to sponsor me taking the test, which would mean I'd have to impress a hero enough to want to give me a chance --"

Shinso snorted, and that was enough for Izuku to finally look up and see the pro covering his face.

"That probably won't be as hard as you're thinking."

His eyes snapped over to where Shoto nodded in agreement.

Izuku forgot to breathe. What were they -- no, no. They couldn't be implying. That was--

"T-that's. Not very funny." God, he hadn't felt like this since middle school, face red, eyes filling with tears that he was desperately trying to keep from falling.

Only unlike back then, Shinso didn't keep taunting him, didn't shove him down or hit him. Shinso very slowly and deliberately moved his bowl of food aside and leaned forward into Izuku's space, the smile he was hiding was replaced with an expression far more serious.

"That's good, because it wasn't a joke. Midoriya I work with people who's quirks I don't even know all the time . And they don't have half the brain you do." A dark look passed over his eyes, just long enough for Izuku to see it, "Believe me when I say that I know what it's like for people to tell you that you can't be a hero. And clearly the people who said that are wrong about me. Personally I think that with the right training you'd make an excellent hero."

Fat tears had started rolling down his cheeks. No one had ever, ever --

"I agree." Added Shoto, "To be honest, you might be thinking too highly of our profession. There are plenty of heroes out there who aren't good people, who only got the job because of their quirks. I would rather someone with a good attitude be the next hero than a fame-seeker."

Shinso turned his too-intense gaze away from Izuku back to squint at Shoto.

"Bold words from the number 7 hero."

"Every time I'm forced to give a press conference I regret not going underground with every fiber of my being."

"Like you could make it underground, pretty boy."

"I'm flattered to know you think I'm pretty."

The exchange was enough to draw a wet laugh from Izuku, drawing him out of his spiral just enough that he didn't start sobbing on Mind Jack's shoulder again. The hero in question shifted back in his chair, "Well, no one's going to force you into doing anything you aren't ready for, but I'm sure someone would be willing to train you, once this case is over."

Shoto nodded, "And before then, you're free to use the gym we have here. You'd have to be supervised, but we have enough heroes and sidekicks that it’s in use all the time anyways, so it wouldn't be difficult."

Izuku felt hot, his stomach roiling sick with shame and worry and embarrassment. Somehow he had tricked these two, into thinking he was worth something. He should say no, shouldn't get his hopes up, because he knew they'd be dashed and broken as soon as the heroes realized just how wrong they were.

…He couldn't though. Couldn't bring himself to. Saying that would mean a future where returned to living alone in his one bedroom apartment, only leaving it to be harassed at work. And as crazy as everything had been since he'd started sending emails, he liked it. For a long time, he'd felt nothing but numb -- and sure sometimes things had been sad, or terrifying, or embarrassing, but this had made him happy, too. He knew that if he said no he'd be giving that up again.

…That's what he'd been doing. Even pretending to help had made him happier than he had been in years.

But he couldn't quite bring himself to say yes either. So, voice almost too wrecked to speak, he said, "…I do miss going to the gym."

Hitoshi dragged himself through the doors of Shoto's agency with a pounding headache and a barely concealed scowl.

It made sense that they didn't want him to be the one to  infiltrate that factory after everything that had happened. Whoever was behind everything clearly knew who he was and was keeping an eye on him. And Vantablack was a great hero, especially for this sort of thing, it was just… Well, it was all too personal. Which meant it was good he hadn't gone but still. And on top of that, he was delivering some bad news today, too.

He kept the file clutched tight in his hands as he made his way down to the secure area. Midoriya wouldn't be happy to hear this at all. 

Midoriya…

The fact that he'd wanted (still wanted?) to be a hero was as unsurprising as it was heartbreaking. Hitoshi had been there, though not for as long as the green-haired man. And he had still been desperate to be a hero when he'd been offered help, he'd jumped at the first real chance he was given. Midoriya had already given up, convincing him to accept help would itself take work. If that was something he was going to do, he'd have be real damn careful about it. Though the fact that he'd accepted Shoto's offer to use the gym had been a good start.

So, he shouldn't have been surprised when he peeked into the room Midoriya had been staying in and found him in workout clothes. And it wouldn't have phased him, normally, but Izuku was wearing a tank top that showed off more of his shoulders and chest than normal. 

They were covered in scars -- clearly old, faded and stretched, most of it the same color as the rest of his skin, only really standing out because of the different texture. And normally Hitoshi would have cataloged it and moved on - they looked bad, but they weren't recent - but instead he froze.

Hitoshi had a scar that looked exactly the same, if much smaller. And he was pretty sure Midoriya hadn't gotten his in a high-school training accident.

He must have stared too long, because Midoriya looked up from whatever he was doing to catch him, and then they both had a light flush of embarrassment on their cheeks.

…As tempted as he was to say nothing, he knew the better thing to do would be to settle it now.

"So…" He moved to sit in the chair next across from the green haired man, "You don't have to answer, but do you mind telling me where you got those scars?"

The small smile Midoirya had shown him disappeared in an instant, eyes going wide and looking anywhere but him.

"T-they're… they're from middle school. Just an old quirk accident."

And shit, okay, that answered a lot more than Midoriya probably thought it did. That wasn't something Ground Zero had done, that was something Bakugo Katsuki had done, and he didn't know if that was better or worse.

He also didn't think that those scars looked much like an accident.

Instead of figuring out what to say right away, he rolled up one of his sleeves. His own scar was on the inside of his left elbow- similarly faded, though his was through the help of Recovery Girl. And Midoriya was smart, as soon as he saw it his back went ramrod straight, recognizing it for what it was.

"I think I get it, at least a little bit." He said carefully.

"I-" Midoriya was clenching his fists so tight that his nails were biting into his skin, and Hitoshi had a strong urge to take them in his own, "He… He's better now. And it's not a big deal! Just… Just kid stuff."

"…If you're telling me that he was worse, then I'm more unimpressed with him than I already am." Hitoshi had only really met Bakugo in his second year, but he'd heard the rumors of just how aggressive he'd been before. Midoriya just looked down, refusing to meet his eyes.

Hitoshi bit his lip and leaned back. Midoirya needed to be pushed to accept help, but he wasn't sure if an old wound was the place to start doing it. He could drop it, could hope that letting Midoriya know that he knew and was willing to do something about it was enough.

…Was it worth the risk of contacting Bakugo again to try and get more information? Seeing what he’d done was enough to make him regret messaging him in the first place, and if Ground Zero had a mind for it, there was only so much Hitoshi could do to stop the current number four from seeing whoever he wanted to. He hadn't seemed that interested in Midoriya, but he hadn't seem disinterested either, and that could change if he brought him up again.

He didn't end up taking Midoriya's hand but he did put his own hand on top, just long enough for Midoriya to blink and look up at him (with glassy eyes, fuck, how did he keep managing to run into such emotional topics?)

"I said you don't have to tell me anything, but I'm here to listen if you need. Do you want to hear the news I brought?" He hesitated, "It's also bad."

That didn't seem to matter much to Midoriya, who nodded, likely thankful for the distraction. He took the file back and handed it to Midoriya - and as the man read it his eyes changed from a tired, resigned sadness to an angrier one.

He knew what was inside. Aoi Nakano, the girl that Midoriya had saved, on the night that had started all this mess, had gone missing.

Izuku stared blankly at the file in his hands. Aoi Nakano had been missing for two, possibly three days. The one person who he'd actually, really helped, was gone to who-knows where.

No, not who knows- he knew. If she wasn't in that chemical plant, the people there would know what had happened to her. Hell, they probably were what happened to her, but same as before all he could do was wait.

"Okay." Shinso's voice startled him, and he flinched and looked up at the purple-haired man. He looked so concerned that it made Izuku's stomach hurt, "Loosen the death grip. This has been too many heavy topics in a row. Let's watch something distracting until we get the report, right?"

Izuku gaped like a fish as Shinso stood from his chair and moved across the room to start pulling the couch out into a bed. He couldn't bring himself to move as the hero took his laptop -- currently open to a police scanner that covered the city district where the chemical plant was -- and brought it with him. To lay down, ankles crossed, one eyebrow raised, and wait.

Yeah, okay, that was one way to distract him.

"…Huh?" Was about all he could manage.

Shinso was typing something. "There's nothing either of us can do about all that right now, and we're both going to sit here and worry if we're not distracted. So…" He gestured at the laptop, "Funny video compilations. Maybe sleep if either of us can manage it."

He said it so matter-of-factly, and Izuku was feeling so overwhelmed, that he chuckled. The laugh that bubbled out of him was a little hysterical, sure, but it was better than crying.

"Right. Sure." He forced his fingers to let go of the missing-persons report and did his best to smooth out the wrikles he'd made in the paper, "Funny videos it is, then."

He only had the thought that he should be bashful about crawling into (an admittedly pretty lousy) bed with the pro hero Mind Jack after he had already done it. And, well, it wasn't like it was super intimate or anything,  just the two of them stretched out on an uncomfortable mattress with a laptop between them, cat video already playing. Izuku couldn't bring himself to focus on it, not really. The warm shoulder next to him was a much better distraction, and maybe that was the point? He knew he was an obvious stuttering mess and Shinso was an underground hero who's job it was to be observant, so he had probably noticed Izuku's ridiculous crush. If he had, and if that was part of the plan, then wasn't that kind of cruel? Shinso could be a little snide at times, but he'd never been downright mean, so in that case maybe it wasn't some grand plant and he really did want to sit here and watch cat videos and ugh--

This probably wasn't the distraction that Mind Jack had in mind, but it was working. Izuku wasn't sure it was much better than thinking about the case though.

It was too much. All of it -- The hero conversation, Bakugo, the case. Shinso himself.

His life had been completely upended, mostly because of the man next to him, and he didn't find himself resenting that at all. It was just, more than anything else, he was scared. For the people who were missing, yes, but also for himself for once. He felt like he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the hero to realize he was too much trouble. But every time he thought it might happen, Shinso went at did something like this, comforted him -- 'and no it's not just because it's our jobs'.

"Why?" He blurted out, and the purple gaze that snapped to him told him that Shinso was well aware that he hadn't been watching, "Why did you come find me? Why do you keep doing this for me? I- I don't--"

His breath finally hitched and he stopped himself before his voice could become too much of a whine. Shinso tilted his head, and for some reason Izuku found himself looking at the reflection of the still-playing video in his eyes.

Shinso appeared to be choosing his words with great care.

"…When you first contacted me I was interested just on principle. People who do the right thing with methods like that usually are worth looking into. Then when I met you I…" The hero's eyes flicked back to the laptop, but clearly weren't focused on it any longer as he took a deep breath, "You reminded me of myself, I think. Do you know about my quirk?"

As an underground hero Mind Jack's identity was supposed to be a secret. His quirk even more so, but there were theories, and Izuku had more information and a better memory than most.

"Brainwashing." He said softly. He didn't know the specifics, he'd only seen it a few times, during that old sports festival. Shinso simply nodded, unsurprised at his knowledge.

"A lot of people thought -- still think -- that it's a villain's quirk. That it can only be used for evil -" he held up a hand to stop Izuku from rebutting, "It's not, clearly. But it meant that it was really damn hard for me to get anyone to give me a chance at being a hero. But once I finally got that chance, well…" He gestured at himself, lips curling into a melancholy smile "Maybe I'm not the best, but I try. And you… You struck me as someone who just needed a chance, and I had the ability to offer you one. So." He shrugged, "Now we're here."

"I-" Izuku's voice cracked. What was he even trying to ask here? "But why?"

Shinso's lavender eyes flickered back to him for just a moment. There were plenty of things he could have said, things that would have made sense: that it was heroic, that helping someone in need was the right thing to do. It would have been easier if Shinso had said something like that, because Izuku would finally be able to tell himself yes, of course, he's doing this out of pity.

Instead, Shinso said, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I can't be worth all this." He pleaded. "All I've done is cause trouble."

Shinso snorted mirthlessly.

"No. I get the feeling but no. You haven't caused trouble, you've been through a lot of trouble, and you survived."

Izuku just didn't have the energy in him to cry again, much less muster up an argument. Mind Jack knew about him. Knew he had no quirk, knew he wasn't in school for anything, could only hold down a shitty part time job that was just barley enough to pay for a tiny apartment. Knew he wasn't able to defend himself or others, not in middle school and not now either. Knew about how close he toed the line to doing illegal things, that he didn't have the guts to help anyone anymore (until he had started trying again--).

And he was still here, depending on him to help him solve a case, trying to make him feel better by watching dumb videos on the internet. Izuku ended up reaching one hand up to run through his hair, fingers tugging at curls until it hurt. Until a hand grabbed at one of his and pulled it loose.

"Don't." Shinso said softly.

And… And…

Fine. Okay. He was to tired to fight it at this point. If Mind Jack was so determined to prove that he was worth something, he might as well make the most of it.

Izuku closed his eyes, slumped back against the couch, and held Shinso's hand in a death grip. And the pro hero just took it in stride, rubbing a comforting thumb across his knuckles, over and over and. Izuku was still too exhausted to cry, but it he felt like he was close to doing it anyways.

His original theory still held. If Shinso was using his stupidly obviously feelings as a distraction from everything else bad going on in his head it was working. It was much easier to deal with the realization that oh, I don't just a stupid celebrity crush on the hero Mind Jack, I have one on Hitoshi Shinso, than anything else, especially with the man in question sitting steadfastly beside him, letting him hold onto his hand for dear life.

He still didn't get it, but Shinso had made it clear that he was here to stay. Izuku would do his best to not let him down.

Somehow, Izuku managed to drift off. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept -- it didn't feel like very long -- but waking up next to Mind Jack was much more embarrassing than Izuku had thought it would be the night before.

 Shinso didn't seem to mind, rather, the thing that had woken him up was a chime coming from his phone that he was already sleepily investigating. As far as Izuku knew, Shinso didn't have anything to do until they had evidence on Hirata Pharmaceuticals, one way or the other.

"Is that… Did they find something?"

Shinso was reading through whatever message he'd gotten with a heavy frown.

"No, and that's the problem." He turned his phone to show Izuku that clock read 10:34 AM, as though time had a meaning for either of them anymore, "Vantablack should have sent a status update hours ago, and he hasn't. It looks like he hasn't sent an anything since he got onto factory grounds."

Izuku blinked, all of his fan-boy knowledge of the Scheming Hero being pushed aside for concern.

"That seems bad."

"No kidding." Shinso looked back to his phone, sending off a text before standing up, "I think I need to go. This is starting to look like even more of a rescue mission than it already was."

Well, on the bright side a pro hero disappearing would be more than enough to get a facility properly investigated.

Shinso grabbed his capture weapon and mask from where he'd discarded it on the floor (when had that happened?), took two long strides towards the door, and paused. He looked back at Izuku with a worried crease between his eyebrows.

"If you need anything…"

Izuku offered the hero a tired smile, "I'll be okay. Shoto will be here soon, too."

Mind Jack nodded, pulling up and securing his face mask.

"I'll try to keep in touch."

Then he stepped out the door, and he was gone. Izuku let out a long breath and leaned back onto the couch. A thin scratchy blanket had been tossed over his legs at one point, but the laptop was sitting sideways from where it had fallen out of someone's lap when Shinso had woken up. Now that he'd gotten some sleep and a little bit of time, he was a little bit more capable of cataloging his thoughts.

First - his ever deepening crush (probably more than that, at this point) on Shinso. Not surprising, not new, not anything he was ever going to act on more than he already had. Embarrassing, but very low on his priority list of things to worry about.

Second - The fact that Shoto and Mind Jack both thought that he could become a hero. A nice thought. Ridiculous, but nice. Also low on the list of concerns because whatever they thought, it just wasn't very realistic, even if he really wanted it.

Third - Bakugo. And the fact that Shinso knew about Bakugo. He'd seemed sympathetic, at least, but anything that happened there wouldn't be initiated by Izuku, that was for sure. If anything he was hoping that Shinso would be too distracted to bring it up again.

Last - The case. Aoi Nakano, missing.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to not feel sick now that he'd remembered. How could any of that other stuff matter when she was gone again? When he couldn’t even properly save one person? Why, out of all people, was she the one who had gone missing again?

…Why was she the one who was missing again?

Izuku blinked open his eyes and powered his laptop out of sleep mode. He wouldn't find any new answers there, but going over old information sometimes helped him think. He idly scrolled through police reports. Up until now, the kidnappings had been seemingly at random. If they had targeted the same woman twice, they probably weren't. Aoi Nakano's quirk was listed as Poison Dart Frog, but the thing that the original message had been concerned about was the paralytic poison she secreted from her skin.

Did they think that it was the key to making quirk suppressants? But then what about the smoke bombs? Had they figured out some way to increase the potency of it so that it would be a viable method of transmission?

Izuku pulled up the list of targets he'd made before -- pain touch, paralyzing breath, hypnosis. The only way he'd been able to link them at the time was with the fact that they could all potentially be used to incapacitate. And he'd brushed it off at the time, but in most cases knocking someone out was just as good as suppressing their quirk. Izuku wasn't sure he understood the science correctly, but if he did, than it stood to reason that they could use Nakano's quirk to make one hell of a knock-out gas. One that would bind directly to someone's DNA- to their quirk factor no less. But then, it would be useless against anyone who didn't have a quirk factor and -- oh. Oh.

Izuku suddenly felt nauseous. He prayed that he wasn't right, that he had finally stretched a conclusion past it's logical limit.

Someone who'd never had a quirk factor to begin with wouldn't have to worry at all about the possibility permanently damaging it. They might, in fact, be totally immune to whatever paralytic effect there was without the right DNA for the poison to bind to. Used correctly it could make every quirked person affected totally helpless while everyone who was quirkless was allowed to do as they pleased.

Izuku was well aware of just how badly quirkless people were treated, these days.

He really, really hoped that he was wrong.

He took a few deep breaths, put his feet on the ground and curled his chest onto his knees. He should say something. He knew he should, it was too dangerous not to.

Everyone had been so… Accepting of his quirklessness up until now, and if he told them this their opinions could very likely change. He'd been so happy, having people like him, for once.

He had to be wrong. He had to.

...Mind Jack had once told him 'don't hesitate with info that could save someone.' In this case, that someone might very well end up being Mind Jack himself.

Izuku let out a ragged sigh, clenched his hands into fists tight enough for his nails to make indents in his hands, and stood up to go find his phone.

Sent:

I think I've just realized something important about the case. Please call me when you can.

He stared at the message, both hoping and dreading the response, but nothing came. Not for the long minutes he stared at the screen, nor during the agonizing stretch of time where all he could do was curl up and stare at the wall. Nothing.

Had he done enough? Was he too late? Maybe Shinso was already out there, on that rescue mission.

Was his realization even anything?

…He couldn't sit around and wait for an answer like this, not without working himself up into a proper panic attack. Instead he paced around the room a few times and then walked purposefully towards the elevator. This whole setup, with him being underground, was made with the intent of keeping others out, it didn't actually do much to keep him in. Shoto should be in by now, and he hit the number for the floor with his office. Only for the woman who served as his secretary to look up at him

"Oh you're-" She gave him an apologetic smile, "Sorry, sorry, but if you're looking for Shoto he got called away on an important mission. If you're wanting to use the gym I can find a sidekick…?"

There was no way. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it wasn't.

"That's okay." Izuku said numbly, "Thank you."

He stepped back into the elevator and didn't hit any buttons. He couldn't just wait here with that information in his head. He couldn't.

His phone buzzed.

Izuku scrambled for it - it was a text, not a call, but maybe it was news.

It was a location. Sent by Mind Jack to a bunch of numbers that Izuku didn't recognize. Something that only would have happened as an accident or in an emergency.

Izuku wasn't supposed to have gotten this. It was a mistake, his number was only in Mind Jack's phone by some fluke in the first place-- this was a distress call meant for his hero friends.

Something was very wrong.

They went in carefully -- Mind Jack flanked by Tsukuyomi on one side and Tentacole on the other, earpieces in, to communicate with the backup they had waiting just off site.

Vantablack had sent in a few updates before going MIA, though Hitoshi wasn't sure he would have needed them. He'd studied the blueprints Midoriya had found extensively, and nowhere on them was there mention of a basement level. Tentacole was able to hear movement from below and it was the work of minutes to find an access hatch with a ladder. The lower floor was made of the same featureless concrete the that cells beneath the warehouse had been, and the entrance they'd found opened up into a long empty hallway. Tentacole moved in first, letting them know that there were people down here but not many. Hitoshi had hoped that they had managed to surprise tg, and that hope held out until they stepped into the next room.

it was similar to the warehouse -- big metal tanks and piping, roof high enough for there to be catwalks -- and Tentacole shouted an aborted warning that theras someone in the room with them before something went skittering under their legs, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

They had been expecting quirk suppressant. Whatever this was made Hitoshi's legs feel like they were suddenly asleep, and based on the way both of his teammates had fallen to their knees they were feeling it too. Tsukuyomi sent in the call for backup before collapsing entirely, but Hitoshi knew that the people they had outside wouldn't be enough, not for this. The numbness was creeping up his chest but his arms still worked, and he used his capture weapon to pull himself… somewhere. Away. A corner to huddle up in.

He was already losing dexterity in his fingers as it was, he didn't have time to give many details, just a location to all his contacts. This had happened before, they would see it for what it was.

He didn't read the text he'd gotten, and the fact that he had Concerned Citizen saved on his real work phone and not one of the his many burners didn't even cross his mind.

Izuku wasn't the first to arrive, by a long shot. He'd had to take a 10 minute train-ride just to get in the district that the manufacturing plant was in, and then he'd had to run. The wait had been torturous; He hadn't dared send off another text to Mind Jack, not knowing the situation he was in, and he didn't actually have Shoto's number. And, well, neither hero was probably checking their email right now.

He probably should have left a note or something, but he didn't feel like he had the time. As he pounded pavement towards the factory Izuku just reasoned to himself that he could find another one of the heroes on scene and explain it to them . And there were a lot of heroes on the scene -- apparently when Mind Jack called for backup his friends knew that he'd meant it. There was a small crowd gathered a hole in the fence around the building. Not the size that would show up by a normal villain fight, because from outside there wasn't much to see. Just a smoking hole in the side of a building --

Izuku heard the name right before the wind shifted and he smelled it.

"Really? Ground Zero went busting in like that?" Someone in the crowd was saying "What do you think they're doing in there?"

And it was faint, but Izuku didn't think he could ever forget the chemical burnt-caramel smell of nitroglycerin. As desperate as he was to keep running forward, the grab someone and tell them what was going on, that stopped him dead in his tracks, dread and panic crawling up his throat.

He didn't know what Kaachan would do if he saw him here, and that was kind of the problem. Would he be ignored? Attacked? Dragged away? Or, perhaps even worse, he'd gone into that factory and was just as in trouble as Mind Jack was. Because of him. Because he didn't figure things out fast enough.

He forced himself to swallow his fear and keep moving forward, glancing around to get a better picture of the situation. Uravity was there, making sure that no one from the slowly growing crowd ran into danger. He spotted some other heroes around, or rather, the support staff of several agencies that he vaguely recognized. Shoto's was the most obvious and most panic inducing because great, he was on this mission.He was pretty sure he recognized some people from Creati and Chargebolt's agencies at least, to say nothing about how many underground heroes might be in there, too.

Pushing his way though the crowd wasn't very difficult, given that there wasn't actually much to see. People were dispersed all along the fence-line trying to catch a glimpse of one of the pros they cared about. There were more in front of Uravity, sure, but she had done a good job of making it clear that she wasn't signing any autographs, her usual cheery demeanor replaced with a hard frown. She looked as stressed as Izuku felt, which… Fair . He wondered if she had any contact with the heroes who had gone in but based on the way she kept glancing back at the building the answer was probably no.

Someone had to know, and she was the hero he could see right now. Hopefully she had been read into the case already, but depending on the timing anyone who could have done that had probably been gone before she had arrived.

"E-excuse me? Uravity?" He swallowed as the brown-haired hero sent him a pained smile, probably about to tell him that this wasn't a good time, "I need to talk to you about, uh--"

He gestured at the building and leaned in in hopes that the rest of the crowd would have a harder time hearing. "I think I know what's going on in there. I- I'm Midoriya Izuku, I'm an analyst on this case."

His breathing stuttered as the hero fixed him with a serious look. She looked… Interested, but not convinced, and that wasn't enough, because if there were heroes inside that building then there wasn't time.

"Look I- I work with Mind Jack. Shoto and Cellophane can both confirm it. I just -- I've figured out some things that the heroes should know too, but the ones I work with are. In there, I think?"

Uravity frown only deepened, growing significantly more sad and conflicted.

"Listen… I know you mean well and all but I don't think we can have this conversation here and I can't let you through if you don't have proof. I'll just call a sidekick over and you can talk to them, okay?"

She didn't believe him. Why should she, when people had no doubt tried even weirder things to get close to a fight? And the trouble was he really didn’t have any proof. He'd left all his files back at Shoto's agency and it wasn't like he'd been given an ID. Just some heavily restricted login credentials. Chances were, whatever sidekick she called over probably wouldn’t believe him either.

 Well. He didn't have proof, but he wasn't just some guy, either.

"I--" He took a shuddering breath and willed himself not to cry, "I've emailed you before. Not about this, but uh, about other things. A few times? The biggest case was that serial killer in Mie. I've emailed a lot of your friends too. Uh -- there was the drug ring in Shishui, and -- and there was that guy who went missing to join the Yakuza I sent to Earphone Jack? A-And Mind Jack noticed them and asked me to help with this case, and now he's in there and I think he's in trouble. Please, let me help."

He only managed to keep himself from lapsing into full on mumbling because he was so afraid -- both for the heroes on the building and of being rejected. Shinso had been the first person in a long time to let him help, there was no guarantee that Uravity would be willing to extend him the same mercy.

But as he spoke, her eyes grew wide, and at his last statement she shot out a hand that gripped his wrist tight enough to hurt .

"Oh my god, you're--" Uravity started, and then stopped, other hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Okay, you're gonna come with me and tell me everything."

Uravity called over a pair of sidekicks to take over before dragging him off to the side, to tent with a sort of forward-operations center set up underneath. He recognized a few of the heroes underneath, but given the situation, he had to ignore their curious glances.

"So you're the concerned citizen, huh!" Uravity hardly gave him time to get his bearings, but at least she didn't sound so bleak anymore, "I have a lot of questions for you, but for right now let's focus on this, right?"

Izuku finally let himself breath again.

"Right. Well, the short version is that what they have down there is probably a gas that can paralyze anyone with a quirk. I think the best thing to do would be to call in a hero like Galeforce who could disperse it without getting near."

"Oh, that's…" Uravity grimaced, but started typing something into her phone as she spoke, "Bad, but consistent with what little we know. Galeforce is a while out, but we can probably at least get an industrial fan or something in the meantime…"

Izuku didn't know how she was keeping her cool right now. He didn't know how he was, either. Even the amount of time it would take to find a fan might be too long.

"There's… Another option." He swallowed, "If I'm right a quirkless person would be immune. They could go in without issue."

"What? That's way too dangerous, and I don't know if we could find someone who would be okay doing it, besides..."

Izuku froze for a moment, and then sucked in a deep breath. He'd never had to reveal this part of himself to someone quite so fast.

"I'm quirkless." It was the first time he'd said that phrase out loud in years, and his tongue stumbled for the next words, "A-And I want to help. I have no problem putting my life on the line to see if my theory is right. It's what you guys do all the time, right?"

He didn't know what he looked like, but Uravity met him back with a gaze that was steely, "I think I get why Mind Jack was so interested in you. But I can't just let you run in there --"

"Please ." He couldn't be denied this. Not now. "I don't want to go fight any villains, but if I can drag someone out of there it might save their life."

Uravity smiled at him. "You didn't let me finish, that's exactly what I was going to suggest." Her hand clamped back down on his arm and she started leading him towards the hole in the wall. "I have extendable ropes on my hero costume, I'm gonna attach them to you and if anything seems the slightest bit off you're getting pulled out. There's at least one person who you should be able to get."

This… wasn't what Izuku had been expecting. She was trusting him. She had known him for less than 5 minutes, she knew, and she was trusting him to do this. And there was no way she was acting like this out of pity, not when the stakes were this high. No, this was, somehow, all him. She was willing to let him do this because of the emails, because she thought he'd been helpful.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any time to get emotional over that realization, as Uravity had led him through the hole in the wall to stand over an open trapdoor and next to a very nervous and concerned looking Chargebolt.

"Chargebolt." She greeted, "This is Midoriya, he's the concerned citizen guy from the emails, and he might be immune to the gas."

"Oh, shit." Said Chargebolt, "Nice to finally meet you, dude."

Finally, as though it was a thing he'd been waiting for. Izuku took the offered hand and Chargebolt shook it before immediately letting go and pointing at the opening in the ground.

"Creati is, like, right there, so if you could just…" He gestured vaguely at the room below. Izuku crouched down and craned his head to get a better look - It was hard to see what exactly he was pointing at- the lights were flickering and there was a thick blanket of dark, bluish smoke hanging low to the floor. And there, just barley visible through it all, curled up on the ground, was an unmoving Creati.

"She has a gas mask on." He mumbled more to himself than anyone else, "So the toxin must be effective just through skin contact."

He could see Uravity nod from the corner of his eye. Then she said, "Listen, I want you to be really sure that you're okay with doing this. You're technically just a civilian--"

"I am." He didn't even have to think about it. He was the one who was supposed to have figured this out in the first place. "Who else is down there?"

For a moment it looked like Uravity wasn't going to answer, expression growing conflicted, but whatever she was thinking about didn't turn out to matter, because Chargebolt blurted out, "Mind Jack! Tsukuyomi, Tentacole, Shoto, Ground Zero, Pinky, maybe Vantablack. And --" He gestured again, "Creati."

"…And possibly some civilians." Izuku added. Uravity's head whipped from him to Chargebolt and back, and she sighed.

"Well, no point in sending you in without all the info, but that's pretty much all we know."

She reached for the front of her gauntlet and started unspooling a rope from somewhere inside of it.  Some small part of Izuku itched to make notes on it, even after all these years. Hell, maybe he would, if he remembered too once this was all over. Uravity wrapped it around his chest and shoulders, knotting the complicated setup together in a practiced movement. Then she patted him on the shoulder.

"Okay, if anything happens, if you start to feel even a little weird, just say something and I'll pull you back, alright?

Another hand slapped his back and Chargebolt said "We got you, man."

Izuku sucked in a breath and clenched his fists tight. He still wasn't sure if he was right or not, and now he was about to put it to the test. There were so many factors that he just couldn't take into account...

Well, he supposed in the end it didn't matter. It wasn't like he had much to lose.

He swung his legs through the opening, and quietly as he could manage with his heart beating in his ears made his way down the ladder.

There was no dramatic moment, just a few simple steps through the swirling smoke as he made his way over to Creati. He paused, for just a moment as he got a look further down the hallway, past the doorway -- the lights flickered, and if he squinted there was what might have been another figure on the ground, though he couldn't tell who. The places where the smoke touched his skin tingled, just a bit, and he reminded himself not to breath too deeply.

One thing at a time.

He pulled the pro hero over his shoulders in as much of a fireman's carry as he could manage, internally thanked his mom for making him stick with going to the gym, and then went back to the ladder. He was only a few rungs up before Chargebolt and Uravity were reaching out to pull their unconscious friend from his shoulders.

"Careful." He warned, "I think you might not want to touch her with bare hands. Whatever is in that gas feels kind of sticky."

Izuku stood on the top of the ladder and watched as Chargebolt tested her vitals. Not good, but not life threatening, this would probably require a hospital visit to recover from.

And really, for someone like him, saving even one person should have been enough. He'd just pulled a pro hero out of somewhere where they'd been in danger, a pro hero who was no doubt far more capable of saving lives than he was. But for some reason, the thing that kept running through his head was that old video footage he used to watch over and over as a kid.

He was nothing like All Might, it was stupid of him to ever dream he could be, even as a kid. He was never going to be capable of rescuing everyone in from a burning building or put everyone at ease with just the smile on his face.

But that didn't mean he couldn't do something. In fact, right now there was a chance he was the only one able to do anything at all.

"Someone else was close by. I'm going back for them."

And then, without waiting for an answer, he did.

The person leaning on the doorway -- the one that the heroes up above couldn't see from where they were sitting -- was big. Too big for Izuku to easily lift over his shoulders and bring back, but absolutely big enough for him to duck behind when he spotted movement from further inside the room.

Two figures kicked up swirls of smoke as they walked towards him, but Izuku couldn't tell if he'd been spotted because once he took a moment to understand what he was looking at, he realized that they were wearing hazmat suits that fully obscured their faces (and some distant part of his mind declared that as fair, that the gas was probably also one hell of a carcinogen even to quirkless people). He froze like a prey animal, and for once it was the right instinct -- it seemed that they weren't expecting anyone else down here to be able to move, and neither person made an indication that they knew he was there as they approached another lump on the floor. He couldn't see what it was until they lifted it up, but when he did his breath caught; All he was able to do was watch as they lifted up Pinky, one person on each end, and carried her back the way they came. They were taking hostages, then.

If Izuku considered this from an outside perspective, he really should be freaking out a little more, but as he watched the villains disappear down another hallway he ran one hand over the rough concrete of the floor and felt instead like he was missing something. There were conclusions he could draw, doubts that had been raised, but he pushed them to the back of his mind as he tried to figure out just how he was going to lift the hero in front of him.

Tentacole was almost a full foot taller than him, and had four extra limbs of muscle to add weight on top of that. The best Izuku could manage was to hook his arms under the hero's armpits and drag him towards the ladder. He could hear the gasp from Uravity as soon as he came into sight. Izuku looked up and offered her a shaky smile.

"I don't think I can lift him high enough. How much can this rope handle?"

"Just about 500 kilos. You should --" She frowned. "Just be careful."

Izuku didn't think that being careful would help much of anything in this case, and his fingers were already working at the knots before she finished talking. The minute or so it took for him to get himself unsecured was agonizing, because he was watching his hands as much as he was watching the door. It took another two for him and Uravity to figure out how to tie the rope in such a way that she could lift Tentacole through the gap without hurting him -- this done with Chargebolt watching over her shoulder.

"Dude, you're really brave." He said.

"Um." Said Izuku, "Thanks?"

He didn't feel especially brave. He felt like this never should have happened in the first place.

The two heroes above him must have found gloves, which were giving them trouble keeping a grip on the rope as they pulled Tentacole up. Izuku did his best to help from the bottom, but there wasn't much for him to do besides support him. As the hero was raised high enough for the other pros to grab at him properly, Izuku's eyes caught on something strapped to Tentacole's side. Most heroes carried some kind of utility tool as a part of their uniform, and most utility tools came with some kind of knife. Tentacole was no exception, and Izuku found himself grabbing at it before he realized what he was doing. The underground hero was large enough that he blocked Uravity and Chargebolt's view of him so they couldn't have seen what he had just done, and Izuku looked at the object in his hand with a bit of shock.

If he backtracked, his thought process had been something like this will be useful when I go back in, which… Well he wasn't planning on going back again, was he?

The lights flickered. The tingling on his skin hadn't really grown any worse. If he got caught he was worth very little as a captive compared to the top ranking pro heroes that were somewhere deeper inside, but they were also clearly interested in him if the botched attempt on his life had meant anything. None of what he’d just thought sounded particularly good for his health. Maybe he could spin himself as another quirkless person looking to join their cause or something?

Huh. He was going to go back in, wasn't he? Which Uravity, at least, would certainly argue with, but it wasn't like she was actually going to be able to stop him. Not down here, at least. Better to just save them both the time.

He heard her say "Wait -- Oh god." But he was already out of sight.

He crept forward, out of the hallway and into the room with the tanks, keeping low to the ground because if all else failed he could try and duck beneath the smoke and crawl away, fidding with the tool as he walked until he was able to flip the knife open. Ideally, he'd be using it to cut ropes instead of fight, but it was a comforting weight in his hand all the same -- he usually didn't have the luxury of having something to defend himself with.

He paused as he passed each tank, scanning for more forms hidden in the smoke and coming up with nothing. Anyone else who had been in here had been taken away, probably to wherever Pinky was, if he had to guess -- but that direction was a long featureless hallway that left him nowhere to hide if the villains came back. The other direction was where most of the pipes turned, disappearing into the wall and presumably into the next room over.  He hesitated for a brief moment before moving that way, because if there were pipes that meant more places to hide, and he needed more information.

As he ducked through the doorway and around the corner, Izuku took a moment to breathe. The smoke was less here, and that meant he had a better idea of what he was looking at. This room was a tangle of pipes and machinery that Izuku vaguely recognized from his research,and his best guess was that this was probably the room where they manufactured stuff. At the far end of the room was a table, but it looked like it was a mess, like someone had gone through everything on it in a hurry. The room felt like it was both cluttered and empty at the same time -- in fact the whole place felt sort of… Unfinished?

None of the doorways actually had any doors, the lighting was cheap --buzzing loudly even as they flickered. Every surface that wasn't metal was identical, featureless concrete that looked almost too perfect. Too clean. Izuku hung close too the wall as he skirted around the edge of the room, sparing one last glance around before darting over the table and rifling through what was left. Unfortunately there was no manifesto outlining a grand plan, just scratchy writing about chemicals and tests and failures that, while probably important, Izuku couldn't start to figure out right now. Taking those notes might have been the smart thing to do, but if he was going to have both of his hands full he'd rather it be with something more immediately useful.

There were a few unused smoke bombs that had rolled underneath the desk, and he grabbed for one of those instead. Even if the smoke inside wouldn't do much, he had a pretty good arm, and the canister was fairly weighty. With that in hand he kept moving -- this room had another doorway that opened to a much smaller, dead-end hallway. As he got closer a new sound registered; the low, persistent whirr of -- he peeked around the corner -- a box fan that was sitting at the entrance of one of the two rooms that hallway opened into. To keep smoke out, presumably -- and the doubts kept piling up. Across from it was a room that did have a door, one that looked heavy.

He was almost at the doors when there was a faint staticky crackle, and then a compressed voice saying "You're sure?"

A click, the static went quiet, and then a woman's voice, much closer, saying, "One in, two out, twice. Then one in and not out yet. I dunno what else you want me to tell you."

No response left the woman muttering something like "go into security, they said --" But Izuku wasn't listening to that anymore.

They knew he was here, which was bad, but he hadn't seen any cameras. One of the things that Mind Jack had suspected in that original warehouse raid was someone with a surveillance quirk, and whoever was in that room was certainly doing their best not to let the smoke get to them.

He didn't know if he wanted to be wrong or not, but there was one way to test his theory and he'd just grabbed it.

Carefully balancing the knife on his knees, he took the canister of gas in both hands. Setting it off was as simple as pulling a ring on the top -- and having never really seen a smoke bomb in use before he was startled by the sparks that spewed forth. He didn't yelp, but he did almost drop the thing, and as it rapidly warmed in his hands he darted over to the door and threw it at the first figure he saw. His aim was true, because there was a shout, then a thump, and he was looking at the collapsed form of a woman who could have passed for just a random mid-level worker from the chemical plant lying in a rapidly expanding cloud of smoke. She stared up at him but seemed otherwise unable to move.

"Okay." He breathed out. "So you have a quirk, then."

She, predictably, didn't respond.

It could just be a fluke. She could be sympathetic to whatever cause these people are fighting for, or she could have no idea what she'd gotten herself into. But the perfectly identical stone of the floor in this room said otherwise. To be honest, this just raised more questions that he couldn't answer right now. A quick glance around the room showed that it was as unfinished as the others -- there was a big metal console installed into one wall, but the wires behind it were stripped bare. Even if there had been cameras, no one would have been able to see them, not that Izuku really needed further confirmation of the woman's quirk.

Before Izuku could think too deeply about that, the radio still clipped to the woman's belt loop crackled to life again, and a new voice said, " My room's clear."

Right. Figure that out later, he was on a bit of a timer, now, and if they found him here, he'd be cornered. Peeking back around the corner showed that the room he came from was as empty as it was when he'd left it. He should leave, should make sure that he had an exit to run to… But the door just across the hall was the first one he'd seen, and it had a big metal bar across it like it was trying to keep something in. They hadn't brought Pinky this way, but that didn't mean he should just dismiss this as nothing.

He took a few steps across and pulled at the bar, which slid back with a grind and a clank that was far too loud for Izuku's taste. He hefted the knife in one hand and slid the door open to find another room, this one totally empty except for a plate on the wall which was chained to a person curled up in the corner. She blinked up blearily at the noise, and though he'd only met her once, very briefly, Izuku would recognize those blue and black splotches anywhere.

He was probably supposed to say something reassuring,but before he could Aoi Nakano sat up and pointed a finger at him, eyes wide.

She said, "You're -- you're the vigilante guy."

"I--" Well, he technically had permission, "I'm just here to help."

Trapping himself in a corner be damned, he wasn't going to leave a hostage chained to a wall. So he slipped through the door and Nakano obligingly held out her ankle. While the door didn't have a lock, the shackle did, and he wasn't sure he had the time to go searching for keys. The multi-tool in his hand had plyers on it, sure, but the chain was too thick for it to cut through.

"How did --- How did you find me?" Nakano asked as Izuku ran his eyes up the chain to where it was embedded in the wall. Just like everything else, it had been done in a hurry, and was secured with four screws that he did have the tools to loosen. He wedged the blade of the knife in one and started twisting before he realized he should respond.

"Thank Mind Jack for that." Had they met? Did she know who he was? "I'm just here because he is."

There was a long moment of silence between them as he pulled one screw out of the wall and moved to the next. He felt like his hands should be shaking but they were surprisingly steady. That would probably come afterwards, then. For now he needed all the help he could get.

"So could you -- could you tell me anything about this place? The people here?"

Nakano sat up a little straighter and breathed in, "Right! Uh, There's… The person that usually comes to see me always wears this full body chemical suit get-up and he doesn't talk much. Uh -- there are these two big guys who I think were probably the ones who grabbed me? Both times?" Her voice wavered a bit and Izuku offered her a smile as he pulled another screw loose. "One of them has some kind of strength enhancer quirk that makes him glow, I'm not sure about the other one but he told me he had a mutant quirk? There's someone here who can control stone, too. That's how they made this room I think."

Izuku pulled out the third screw, feeling a little lightheaded.

"So they're not quirkless. I was wrong. Good to know." Unfortunately, he liked to ramble when nervous, so he also said, "Must have forgotten we exist. Or they just don't care."

"Um." Said Nakano, "What?"

"Ah. Not important, sorry." He was a little too on edge about everything else to think too hard about what he'd just revealed. The last screw was loose enough that he was able to pull the plate out of the wall with a final pull. "Let's get you out of here, huh?"

Nakano wasn't really in the state to be walking, though Izuku figured he was going to have carry her above the gas anyways. He was sure there was some irony to the fact that he was more immune to something made from her quirk than she was. He lifted her onto his back, leaving a hand free to brandish his weapon as she clung to his neck.

"Uravity and Chargebolt are waiting just outside." He told her, "They'll take care of you, but we need to be quiet until then."

Really, she was the best he could ask for when it came to behavior from someone being rescued. She kept her head turned back as they moved -- through the manufacturing room, to the one with the tanks -- to make sure no one appeared behind them. And then they were at the ladder and Uravity was there, looking afraid and livid all at once. Izuku helped Nakano onto the ladder -- "A civilian" was all the explanation he gave -- and made to turn back into the compound. The idea of going to face villains was somehow more appealing than being lectured by a Pro Hero, but of course Uravity wasn't going to let him go a second time.

"Don't you dare run off again." She yelled after him, too loud, and Izuku found his shoulders hunching up to his ears against his will, "Look I -- We really appreciate this but Galeforce is on his way. I can't let you keep running around down there alone in good conscience."

Uravity was angry, yes, but she was also worried. That was nice of her.

Izuku couldn't promise that he'd be fine. Nothing about this was fine , but that didn't matter, because now that he was here he didn't plan on running away. Not anymore. Instead he said, "I know their quirks. Which means they have them, which means that they've given me the best advantage I'm ever going to have in my life. I don’t have to fight anyone --" He brandished the knife, "I just have to give them a taste of their own medicine."

Her frown didn't ease even a little so he gave her his most reassuring smile and said, "I know how dangerous this is. If something happens to me it's not on you, it's because I was being stupid."

She didn't yell after him again.

In Hitoshi's opinion, the worst thing about whatever was keeping him paralyzed was that it was also keeping him conscious. He was awake as he was carried away and tossed on the ground. He was fully aware as he heard backup come only to meet the same fate he had. He couldn't do a damn thing as he felt them pull his support items off of him, as he listened to voices talking about how they got 'two of the top ten'.

Every bit of exposed skin -- not much for him, thankfully -- tingled and burned. It felt like it took every ounce of energy he had just to breathe. It took too much time and so much effort to force his eyelids open.

The only light in the room was filtering in from somewhere he couldn't see, long shadows dancing back and forth as people moved around in front of it. As his eyes adjusted he did his best to look around -- everything was bare concrete, and if he didn't know where he was he would have guessed an unfinished construction site. He wasn't alone, either -- his view was blocked a bit by the person in front of him (Vantablack, looking significantly worse for wear than when he'd seen him last ) -- but he could see enough.

They must have been confident in their gas to keep four, five, counting him, pro heroes in the same room unsecured like this. Shoto and Ground Zero were tied back to back with a rope that wouldn't last a second if either of them got the chance to activate their quirks. Unfortunately, they probably wouldn't -- more of that dark gas was curling around on the ground near them, coming from somewhere in the darkness that he couldn't see. Out of the corner of his eye was a pile of black something , which he could only guess was Tsukuyomi. If Tentacole was here, Hitoshi couldn't see him.

For now all he could do was wait and pray that the smoke didn't creep any closer to him, sweat beading on his forehead as the legs of people in haz-mat suits swam through his vision. They talked, sometimes -- he took a grim pleasure in the fact that they seemed totally unprepared for this many heroes to show up so soon. It sounded like they were coming up with some kind of horrible plan to use them as hostages and stage another get away.

He had only a vague idea how long it was before a change happened -- a voice over a radio saying that someone else had come in. He assumed the worst-- that someone else had gotten too hasty and he was about to see another one of his friends dragged in and unable to move. Then the voice came back saying two had left, and oh thank fuck, someone must have figured something out. A few minutes later and the voice came back saying that it had happened again, and Hitoshi allowed himself to hope for a brief moment before two more sets of legs appeared and dropped Pinky right on the edge of his vision.  She looked fairly awake, at least, which in this case meant that her eyes were open and looking around. Maybe she hadn't been in the smoke long, or maybe her acid helped negate the effects. She was looking suspiciously shiny, but her appearance opened a hole in his chest. Had she saved someone and got caught? What the hell was going on?

A minute more had him thinking that maybe it wasn't Pinky they were worried about after all, as the villains continued to scurry in and out of his line of sight. If he really pushed it he could just lift his head, though it sent pain screaming through every muscle in his neck and shoulders to try. A moment of eye contact with Pinky, who tilted her chin at him, told him that she was in the same boat. No one else was moving at all, but he could work with this, somehow. Given more time…

Well, he didn't have more time, if the sudden shout of alarm was anything to go by. There was a yelp, a shout, the thunk clink hiss of another smoke bomb being thrown. Someone was saying, "Fucker's immune or something. We know his quirk?"

The response came in the form of a voice that Hitoshi should not be hearing right now. Midoriya was here, somehow, and he sounded almost disappointed.

"You really don't even know what you have here, do you?"

Someone growled a response, something was glowing red, and someone -- no not someone, Midoriya -- was tossed into the room, air leaving him with a loud grunt, gas swirling around them and casting haunting shadows over the whole scene. One of the villains followed him, and the fact that Hitoshi couldn't move while the man he'd been trying to keep alive was pinned to the ground not three meters away from him was agony.

Only, well, Midoriya did something. Twisted his arms around in a way that couldn't have felt nice, got one hand loose enough to struggle with it. The person who had him pinned was so big that really it shouldn't have made a difference, but something metal flashed in the light, there was the rip of plastic, and after a few more moments of struggle the person in the haz-mat suit went down and Midoriya pulled himself free and jumped to his feet.

He looked… Well he looked hurt. There was a long scrape down the side of his face and blood leaking from his nose. He was flexing one of his wrists like he was trying to see how far it could still bend and there was a dark stain on one shoulder whose origins were unclear.

He was also smiling, like he was comfortable in his own skin for once -- eyes bright and shoulders straight as he looked at the pile of heroes on the ground and asked, "I don't guess any of you can move, can you?"

Hitoshi blinked, he was pretty sure Pinky did, too. Which raised the question of just how, exactly Midoriya was still standing when no one else he could see was capable of doing so right now.

The smile dimmed as Midoriya said, "Yeah, thought so."

The green-haired man took another glance around, huffed a resigned sigh, and then moved to where Ground Zero and Shoto were tied together, working at the rope with what revealed itself to be a utility knife.

Some part of Hitoshi -- the part that wasn't absolutely hysterical over the fact that Midoriya was here, why the hell was he here -- was proud. The higher ranking heroes were far more valuable as hostages, getting them out should be the first priority and Midoriya was calm enough to make that call. Even when he probably had a very good reason to want to leave the number four for last. He'd cut through the ropes and looked to be trying to figure out the best way to carry a much bulkier than him Ground Zero when his head shot up, eyes fixing on something Hitoshi couldn't quite see. It only took a moment, though, as another set of shadows passed through the light, another set of footsteps got closer and closer.

There were two more people in haz-mat suits. Two more villains, and when Midoriya got to his feet it  was to stand between them and the pros.

 If he was afraid, Hitoshi couldn't tell. No, from his spot on the ground all he could think was huh, Is this how people feel when heroes show up to save them?

Still, two on one was one hell of a disadvantage for someone who knew how to fight, and Midoriya didn't. What he did know how to do, as Hitoshi quickly learned, was not get hit. Or not get hit hard at least. Someone threw a punch and he rabbited away from it. Someone shifted the ground under his feet and he stumbled, but he didn't fall. Someone grabbed at him and he lunged out with that knife in response, ripping through a sleeve and then it was one on one instead of two. And he always, always, kept himself between them and the villains.

Hitoshi fought his hardest, in the meantime. He could twitch his fingers, maybe if he could open his mouth he could just --

"You--" A new voice, one that startled everyone who was capable into looking at it, "I've figured you out, I know just how you're able to run around down here. How the fuck are you taking their side."

Hitoshi could just see Midoriya's face in profile, frowning.

"Their side? Like, the heroes? That side?"

"You must have been real damn lucky in life if you think they actually care about you. You know them? Do they know you're quirkless?"

Izuku's nose wrinkled, "Most of them --"

The villain that Hitoshi could see took the opportunity to lunge forward, and this time Midoriya wasn't quick enough to dodge it. A hand pinned the wrist with the knife, sending it spinning away, and the two went tumbling to the floor with a crack that Hitoshi would have winced at if he could have. Something just broke there, he just hoped it wasn't a skull; and anyways he had more important things to be worried about, like the fact that Midoriya was struggling under someone who was likely trying to kill him while his tongue was still too heavy in his mouth to make a sound.

He stared at the shadowy mess of struggling limbs and Hitoshi was half convinced he was about to see Midoriya die , and then one arm reached over and there was a rip snap of what must have either been the zipper being torn open, or the seams around it ripping because Midoriya was pulling himself out from under that person too a moment later, breathing noticeably more ragged. 

And then, as if he hadn't just been fighting for his life, Midoriya pointed to the figure -- Hitoshi could tell where they were by the long, stretched shadow in the doorway, now -- and said, "Are you quirkless? Because everything about this makes a lot more sense if someone here is."

The silence was telling. Midoriya gestured at the figures on the ground. The one's he'd knocked out.

"...Do they know? I just -- I want to know what the plan was here. Did they support you? Is this some kind of kill-all-heroes tear down society thing?"

"I don't want to kill heroes, I want an even playing field, which I would have -- we would have -- if you just left me alone."

"I mean…" Midoriya licked his lips, and Hitoshi could see his eyes roaming the room, "I get it, but you were also kind of kidnapping people."

"We let them go." The person was making their way into the room, now, "We didn't hurt anyone."

Midoriya opened his mouth, closed it, looking conflicted. For a brief, terrible moment Hitoshi thought that he might agree, and then kicked himself for even having the thought as he changed subject entirely.

"You have a guy here who can disorient people and make them forget things. Why not use his quirk? The girl I pulled out of here looked pretty hurt to me."

And oh, he was doing something Hitoshi did all the time. Distracting.  Deflecting. Trying to get information, trying to buy time.

"You -- you can't just slap a quirk factor into a helicase compound and call it a day. The right combination of chemical and quirk -- ugh. Shut up, no I'm not having a conversation with some -- vigilante, hero sympathizer, betrayer. "

"I'm not a--" Midoriya looked downright offended for a moment before his face morphed into shock, and then fear, "-- shit."

Midoriya took off running towards the shadow and then a lot of things happened in quick succession. 

The first was the explosion. Hitoshi had seen, or in this case heard, Ground Zero use the max capacity on his gauntlets maybe twice ever, and never from this close, but that was unmistakably what had just been set off. Well that answered the question of where their support items were. For a long moment -- too long -- he couldn't tell what was going on at all. The sudden brightness had him forcing his eyes back closed, and he knew that the sound would have his ears ringing for days. Small bits of something were raining down on him and every time one hit it hurt it sent pins and needles radiating painfully through his whole body.

And then there was the wind -- strong, too strong to be natural, and when Shinso finally pried his eyes back open it was to the tune of a hole in the roof through which the floors of the building above were still sliding, and one Galeforce descending into the room with a team of sidekicks behind him. Not what he cared about right now. No, he did everything he could to crane his neck, to look around until he saw Midoriya.

Still standing, even with a new huge, nasty looking burn that spanned up his entire left arm and had scorched away most of his shirt. He was talking, gesturing at Galeforce, and then to the heroes and then somewhere in the compound behind them. Hitoshi couldn't hear what he was saying, and based on the blood coming out of his ears Midoriya couldn't hear himself, either.

Hitoshi tried to focus. He wasn't half bad at lip-reading and so he got the gist of the explanation -- paralyzing, skin-based, gloves, Vantablack might need a stretcher but the rest can be carried out .

Someone sent down a ladder and Galeforce the sidekicks moved to start carrying people out. Midoriya did, too. With the other heroes accounted for, Midoriya made a bee-line straight to him.

He said something like It's okay, the heroes are here now.

Hitoshi wanted to shake him and ask Midoriya what the fuck he thought he'd been doing up till now, if not heroism. He'd have to do that later. His thoughts were quickly derailed by Midoriya pulling him onto his shoulders piggyback, and by the fact that, since he couldn't really move his own body, his face wound up right in the crook of the man's neck. Not that he would move it, but this whole day had been very bad on his heart, and this really wasn’t helping.

The heroes that had arrived really probably shouldn't let Midoriya do what he was, either, but right now he was being treated as the authority on the situation. Which, you know, he was, they just had no idea just how injured the man currently carrying him over his back really was. He seriously doubted that Midoriya was going to say anything, either. No, he had to suffer in silence as he was carried out of the chemical plant and over to an ambulance.

This was… He didn't know what to make of any of this. Midoriya wasn't even supposed to be here, and yet he'd shown up. Had stopped the villains from using anyone as a hostage. Had, ostensibly, saved their lives, and done it with a smile.

…Every bit of advice about romance in the hero industry basically boiled down to nut up or shut up. Things were too dangerous to spend time pining. People could die before you got a chance to confess, and then you'd have to live with that forever. Today had been proof of not only that fact, but the fact that Midoriya Izuku was brilliantly smart and brave and bright (and cute. So damn cute) and all that despite everything that he’d been through. He still wanted to help, even when it would have been so easy for him to give up, or to turn against everyone. He sure as hell deserved better from Hitoshi than him sitting on his hands about his own damn feelings.

Fuck. He was going to have to say something.

He couldn't yet though. Literally still couldn't, though the fact that he could move his tongue again at all was a good sign. Midoriya carried him into an ambulance and smiled down at him and Hitoshi's heart swelled with equal parts worry and affection, because he kind of looked like shit.

By now the ringing had died down enough that Hitoshi could start to hear a bit, so when Midoriya stepped out of the ambulance he heard the EMT ask Midoriya if he needed medical attention, to which the man airily responded "Oh, yeah. Probably."

Then he heard the thump of someone hitting the ground.

Yeah. That tracked.

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

Pikachu…Two!: so

Spaced out: so

Spaced out: uh

Spaced out: the situation is under control everyone!

Spaced out: inasa showed up

Pikachu…Two!: yeah like thats what we need to talk about here???

Pikachu…Two!: u guys are never gonna guess who else showed up 2 save everyone's asses

I like big beats: okay well before we descend into that chaos

I like big beats: is everyone good? Momo?

I like big beats: still omw btw

Spaced out: everyone's been evacuated, and some people are starting to be able to move around again, so good signs

Spaced out:  the only people with major injuries are kuorio and

Spaced out:  well

Pikachu…Two!: :)

Pikachu…Two!: wait

Pikachu…Two!: :(

Ingenium: Formally requesting that we dispense with the guessing games, this has been a stressful situation for all of us.

Pikachu…Two!:  oh fine take the fun out of it why don't you

Pikachu…Two!:  then again it's not like I could make THE concerned citizen showing up to save our asses any MORE dramatic

Pikachu…Two!: used one of bakubros gauntlets to make an escape route and everything

ultimate fly paper: wait excuse me?

ultimate fly paper: lmao that probably wasn't supposed to happen

ultimate fly paper: is he okay?

Pikachu…Two!:  okay putting aside the fact that apparently u fucking KNEW, idk yet

Pikachu…Two!:  everyone whos not helping with the cleanup go 2 kurosawa medical!!!

Izuku drifted back to awareness to a lot of very confusing noise. There was a lot of… Crunching? Chimes? Singing ? Like a bunch of voices on a high note all together, for just a second. All weirdly muffled, which after taking a moment to think about it Izuku decided was fair because the last thing he remembered was him trying to parse out what someone was asking him while being totally deaf.

He, oh so slowly and carefully, squinted his eyes open. The source of the sound immediately became clear -- he was in a hospital bed, covered in a scratchy green blanket, and sitting on the couch at the end of it was Chargebolt, in street clothes, playing a game on his phone.

Huh.

He didn't look especially stressed or worried, nor had the hero noticed that he was awake just yet. So, Izuku took a moment to assess. The hospital room was nice, easily the nicest one he'd ever been in, and it could have passed as a hotel room were it not for the medical equipment. He himself was in surprisingly little pain, for the amount of bandages on him -- pretty much his entire left arm was wrapped up, and that was just what he could see. They must have given him some painkillers much stronger than he normally got, if the weird floaty feeling was any indication. It was also why, even though he was fully aware that Chargebolt was in the room, he still jumped when the man suddenly (to him) appeared by his side.

"You're awake! How're you feeling?"

Izuku actually startled in surprise, sending a twinge of pain down his side; Chargebolt's grin fell at his grimace. Still he answered, "Fine, I think? Better than expected."

He experimentally flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar tight skin of a burn and the sharp, if muted, pain of something sprained or broken. Chargebolt just looked taken aback.

"Better than --Dude, what were you expecting?"

Izuku offered a half-shrug with his uninjured shoulder, which prompted the hero to sputter and list off his injuries: Three cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, several hairline fractures in both of his arms, a large second degree burn, ruptured eardrums, and a long, long list of cuts, scrapes and bruises.

…But a lot of that had already been treated , at least partially. That on top of whatever pain-meds they had given him meant he was feeling just fine, more or less. Though he could admit that it sounded pretty bad on paper, and if he was hurt…

"Is everyone else okay?" He asked with a frown, "Did that gas have any lingering effects on anyone?"

"Oh, well--" Chargebolt waved one hand around, "Once the stuff got washed off everyone got to moving around again pretty quick, but they're all stuck in observation for a while until we know if it's messed with their quirks." He tilted his head to one side and the, you don't have to worry about that part, though, went unsaid, "You had us pretty freaked out, dude!"

Izuku's thoughts were moving way too slowly to keep up with Chargebolt's fast speech, all he could really manage in response was a slow blink and, "Well that's… good? Uh-- not that you were freaked out I guess, but that everyone got out okay?"

"I mean -- There's some people who want to lecture you, but from what I hear, you stopped a whole-ass hostage situation before it could even start so I think it all worked out in the end." Chargebolt gave him the dazzling grin he was becoming famous for, "Actually, there's a bunch of people who've been looking forward to meeting you for a while, now, if you're feeling up for it."

It took Izuku a long second to parse,"A while? How long have I been here?"

Chargebolt blinked back at him.

"Um. Like, a few hours, maybe? I'm talking about from before! Everyone wants to know who's been emailing them!"

"I--" said Izuku, "Oh. That would. Be nice, I guess?"

Mind Jack and Shoto had been careful about revealing too much information to even their friends. Chargebolt and Uravity apparently had no such concerns. As nervous as it made him (linking of his identities and the possible threat that put on his life aside) he didn't have the willpower to say no to meeting a pro hero. 

Cellophane showed up first, which Izuku was thankful for because he was at least a familiar face. Well -- they were all familiar faces but his was one that Izuku had seen in person before. He was as smiling and as apologetic as he had been the last time Izuku had seen him -- he'd scratched the back of his head and said "Glad to see you're alright. Heard you did good, though!"

That was enough to send Izuku's thoughts running wild. Did good? Did he?

Uravity came in next and hit him with the lecture that Chargebolt had warned him about. She pulled up a plastic chair next to his bed, reached out to take his uninjured hand and said, "So I'm glad you're okay, but what the hell!"

"Um --" said Izuku, "Sorry."

He supposed he owed her that much, considering just how far he had pushed the permission she gave him. He hoped she didn't get in trouble for that.

Uravity sighed and puffed out her cheeks.

"I mean, I get why you did it, and you did, like, save everyone, but I only let you go because I thought you'd done stuff like that before! Then I come to find out that was your first time fighting a villain. And you were alone!"

There was a lot for him to unpack, but Izuku still wasn't quite able to handle 'save everyone ' so instead he let his mind hang on to -- "Wh- why would you assume I've done stuff like that before?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe the crazy specific emails that implied you were working in the criminal underground?"

Implied what? Izuku didn't even know how to begin to respond to that, but Uravity must have caught the look on his face because she waved her hands around and said, "I mean I know that you're just some super smart guy now, but before all we didn’t have anything to work with except that you knew way too much!"

Izuku could only stare. Uravity stared back before slapping her cheeks and saying, "Well anyways, I don't know what else to say about this since you already knew what you were doing was stupid and dangerous, besides like… Thanks?"

And Izuku, mind still lagging a fair bit behind said, "Are you sure?"

And as though it was the most obvious thing imaginable, Uravity said "Yeah? I mean I don't think anyone else in the world was in the position to surprise those guys like you were!"

After her, Earphone Jack and Red Riot swept through and thanked him again, the latter so loudly and profusely that Izuku couldn’t fit in a word, not that he knew what to say anyways. Then came heroes he never could have guessed had an interest in him. Sugarman brought him a gift basket, even though he was pretty sure he'd only emailed the hero once. Froppy and Anivoice both very kindly asked how he was doing, and there were even some heroes who showed up that he'd never interacted with at all -- Shemage, Vine and Spiral all showed up to thank him for saving Vantablack. Hell, even Galeforce stopped by and loudly thanked him for his assistance.

Was that what he had done? Even in the moment he had been so worried that he'd made things worse, but as he floated through all of the meetings there seemed to be a theme.

You were so helpful. What you did was really manly. We don't know what we would have done if you hadn't shown up.

He'd helped. Even if he didn't think so, the heroes did. He'd helped.

It was an overwhelming couple of hours before the a nurse came in and shoed everyone else out -- giving him another dose of painkillers that Izuku confirmed was in fact much stronger than what he normally got when he'd had to go the hospital in the past, and a rundown on what his treatment looked like: a second round with a doctor who could fix his bones, another day of observation, and a lot of changing out of the bandages that wrapped his burns. (He knew how to do that part quite well but he politely sat through the explanation anyways).

And then, finally he had a moment alone to think.

He wasn't really sure if he wanted to.

Izuku knew he had the tendency to overthink. In the moment he hadn't had the chance, but in hindsight…

Well, he shouldn't have let that situation happen in the first place. He should have figured it all out sooner, but that besides he had been so, so lucky to have been able to do what he had. If he was better at fighting maybe he wouldn't have cut it so close. There had been too many times when the villains could have, should have, gone for one of the heroes instead of him, and if he had been just a moment later when the villain had gone for Bakugo's gauntlets then things would probably be looking a lot worse for everyone.

Izuku drew up short when he realized what he was thinking. Learn how to fight and it won't happen next time. But that was ridiculous, this was such a specific situation, one that would probably never happen again. There wouldn't be a next time unless he… Well unless he sought it out himself.

Alone with his thoughts, the conclusion that he kept circling back to was, well what else are you going to do? The same nothing you have been?

If he accepted that he really had been able to help, then Izuku was sure that there wouldn't be any going back for him. So if he was going to go out there and -- what, try to be a hero?   Wasn't that still ridiculous? 

But he wasn't a hero and he'd still been able to help, supposedly, so he could still do something, and if he was going to do that he'd have to take it seriously and ugh --

He wished he could get someone else's opinion on this. He wished, a little selfishly, that Shinso were here.

He wasn't getting answers just laying around, but he wasn't exactly able to go anywhere either. His phone, which had miraculously survived the whole event, was nearly out of battery and he was without a way to charge it -- the only person he could ask to bring him his things was someone who he'd removed from his emergency contact list so that he wouldn't worry her if he ended up in the hospital like he was right now. He'd have to call his mom later this week, but he didn't know what to tell her just yet.

No, the only other thing he found himself thinking about was "I want an even playing field."

He didn't sympathize with the villain, not exactly. Kidnapping and human experimentation was a stretch too far, and an aerosol that could knock out 80% of the population in seconds was dangerous in anyone's hands.

…But they hadn't been totally wrong. People didn't treat the quirkless kindly, and they weren't going to suddenly start. What had driven them to the point where such a drastic measure was the only option left? The trouble was that Izuku could imagine it all too easily.

Betrayer. Was he? If he had decided that he was trying to solve the problems of the quirkless, what would he do? Was that sort of thought even worth entertaining? It was too big of a problem for him to be able to do anything about. Right?

And there he was again, assuming that he was going to try and do something about it at all.

Maybe he should wait until he was able to think properly before having two existential crises at once.

The next couple of hours drifted by in a haze. Izuku slipped into a doze a few times only to be startled awake by a nurse coming to check on him, or by something moving down the hall. Such were the struggles of trying to sleep in a hospital. When someone slammed open his door he wasn't all that surprised -- not until he looked up to see who it was.

Now naturally, Izuku had figured that Mind Jack would be the first of the heroes who'd been affected by the gas that he'd get the chance to see, or if not him, than Tsukuyomi or Shoto. He should have known better. If anyone was going to break out of their hospital room to come see him, of course, of course, it would be Bakugo Katsuki.

Izuku had long wondered what he'd say when he saw Kaachan again, what he'd feel. Fear seemed like the most likely answer, or guilt maybe, but after everything he'd just done and been through… Well, It was a little too late for him to stop Izuku from doing anything, and what was he going to do, blow him up ?

He stared at Bakugo and found that he didn't feel much of anything at all. Though the pain medication was probably at least partially to thank for that.

Bakugo stared back, working his jaw back and forth in what Izuku assumed was anger -- Izuku could practically hear the plastic of the door frame creak under his hands. There was a long moment of tense silence before Bakugo said, "Are you fucking stupid?"

Well, some things didn't change. Izuku figured correctly that it was a rhetorical question and said nothing, because Bakugo continued on, "Why is it that I find you running into a deathtrap. What the fuck did you think you were doing? Playing hero?"

There was a long answer there, about how Izuku felt responsible, how he felt like he'd been the only one able to act, how he'd done it without really thinking. He also knew that no matter how much Bakugo might have grown he wouldn't have the patience to listen to it, so instead he said, "I just wanted to help."

And amazingly, Bakugo didn't explode in anger. He closed his eyes, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath. Some things did change, too.

"Yeah you were always like that. And I--" He let a hiss out through his teeth, "Look, I did a real shit job of expressing myself as a kid. The way I treated you wasn't right, but the point I was always tryin' to get across was that if you did dumb shit like try and be a hero you'd end up hurt or dead. And now you're fucking here because you thought it was smart to try and save a bunch of trained-ass pro heroes . Why do you think you have the fucking right ?"

Was that really what he thought? That Izuku thought he was…What, entitled to helping people ?

"I have the same right as you to try." The answer came to him surprisingly easily, though Izuku knew he hadn't quite gotten hit point across. He ran his tongue across his teeth -- Kaachan wasn't right, and it had been so long that Izuku didn't know him well enough to call him Katsuki anymore. "Deku" and "Izuku" had been noticeably absent from the conversation too. He swallowed hard. "Bakugo. I can't not help people. I tried to give it up for -- for a while. And I was miserable. Clearly this, or… Anything you could say to me now or back then isn't gonna stop me."

That had been… More than he'd meant to say. More than Izuku had even realized he was feeling, but it all felt right. He'd gotten someone else's opinion and promptly ignored it and it didn't even matter. Staring down his childhood bully in the eye, he knew that there really wasn't any going back after this.

Bakugo hadn't liked that answer, hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

"So what? You're gonna keep running into trouble and make everyone waste their time bailing you out of it until you end up dead?"

"No." Izuku responded darkly, "I didn't ask for your help, or anyone else's. If I'm such a burden to you then don't bother. And if I end up dead then maybe it's not your problem."

He might as well have hit Bakugo for the look of shock that passed over his face. Izuku pursed his lips and looked out the window -- a lovely view of a parking lot -- but there was no angry reply, no comeback. There was some part of him that wanted to double down on his reasoning, to say, well if you've looked at the statistics I should be dead by now anyways , but he let his point hang. And when he finally looked back it was to see that Bakugo was gone.

He let his head fall back to his pillow with a sigh.

He hoped this didn’t get back to his mom.

…Hitoshi might have picked up some bad habits from his mentor.

The moment he heard one of his former classmates mention "the citizen" he knew that he'd be leaving the hospital as soon as he was able to move again. Yeah, his muscles might have been so stiff that it hurt to walk, but his escape only took thirty-four minutes. A new record -- eat your heart out, Eraserhead.

He didn't know who'd originally found out, or who had decided it was a bright idea to tell everyone, but they would be getting a lecture from him later. Or more accurately, a lecture from Iida while he stared at them to prove just how fucking tired their fuckup had made him. He'd told them that they were all shit at keeping secret identities secret, and look at what had happened -- the exact thing he’d said was going to happen, that's what. They didn't even have the tact to wait until after the case was properly closed and Midoriya was confirmed safe from people who might hire assassins to kill him.

Which was why he had walked back to the chemical plant and asked around until he got a better picture of the situation -- once he'd gotten out of his friends lecturing him on escaping the hospital, of course. Uraraka ended up explaining it to him while floating chunks of concrete out of the hole that had been blasted through the ceiling of the room he'd been stuck in.

"Well he told me about the emails and stuff, and he kept saying he worked with you, so I knew who he was. And he said that a quirkless person could help, and that he was one. Whatever the case, he could move around down here when no one else could. He seemed pretty sure of himself and I figured he'd done stuff like this before so I let him grab Momo, but then he just… Kept going?" She huffed a sigh "I mean I guess it's good that he did, I don't want to know what that hostage situation would have looked like, especially with you not there…"

Hitoshi decided not to remind her that he would have been there, just not very helpful. Instead he opted to say, "Well for the record I think the most action he's seen until today was getting punched in the face. Not that you knew that, but --"

It was true if you were only counting situations that Midoriya had run in to, and not assassination attempts. Plus, putting it like that made Uraraka's reaction that much funnier.

"He what?" she gasped, a small chunk of rubble flying out of her grasp to bump the far wall, "Then why did he go back in?"

Hitoshi shrugged. He had a few theories to that question but no hard answers. Why had Midoriya run outside that first night? Guilt? Desperation? Both? Whatever the reason back then, he'd it was probably the same here.

He'd told Midoriya 'call me instead of running out there and getting hurt’ when they'd met, but that hadn't really been an option for him this time, had it? Was he proud of Midoriya for handling things as well as he had? Yeah. That didn't mean he wasn't also bitter that he'd put the man in that situation in the first place.

"You would have if it had been you. Who was in charge of arrests?"

"Galeforce." She smiled at his sigh, "So good luck with that."

Inasa was loud and boisterous, but that may have actually been a good thing for once since Hitoshi's hearing still wasn’t the best. He'd called Hitoshi's quick return to work spirited and admirable, and directed him to the detention center that the villains had been hauled to and the police station in charge of it.

Spirited. Right. He might have escaped from the hospital, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that part of his flight didn’t have to do with him avoiding his own feelings.

He was worried, obviously but he was also nervous. In the moment, he'd been so certain of the fact that he should say something to Midoriya but the longer he’d had to think on it, the more he wasn't sure that it was a good idea after all. Nut up or shut up warred in his head with Hitoshi, you dumb motherfucker, he's had three near death experiences in as many weeks, he needs some time to recover at least. 

Even though the whole idea was that in his line of work there wasn't always the luxury to worry about things like that. But even then there was the fact that Midoriya was a huge hero fanboy and Hitoshi was not only a hero but technically his superior. Though that probably wouldn't be the case for long, Midoriya was probably going to get a promotion, and maybe now that he'd done some saving himself he wouldn't idolize the profession so much. Then they could give it a try and he would have the chance to lean over and kiss Midoriya on every single one of those adorable freckles fucking hell Hitoshi you are not making this any easier on yourself, are you?

Midoriya needed support. Friends. Therapy, probably. He could do those first two, maybe arrange the third, and hopefully somewhere along the way he'd either get over his crush or things would change enough that pursuing it would become a better idea. Assuming he didn't just blurt out the feelings the next time he saw the man. Better to let his emotions settle before than -- and hey, tying up loose ends as a pretty good reason to be out.

By the time he'd gotten to the station, the tightness in his muscles had been replaced with an aching soreness that was starting to drag at his limbs. It had been a long day, and it was only getting longer.

He spent a long time proving his identity, as was custom, and then enduring another round of disappointed looks from people who thought he should still be in the hospital but knew they wouldn't be able to make him stay.

"I'm fine to be out." He said, though he wasn't actually sure if that was true, "I'm just not supposed to use my quirk."

The police liaison to the underground heroes at this station was a woman that Hitoshi had heard of, but never worked with, and who seemed incredibly unimpressed with both him and the situation at large.

"That's a shame." She said, "I hear you're good at getting people to talk and no one who knows anything wants to."

He wrote up a report that was probably more detailed than any she had gotten so far, and then started the process of listening and reading to the statements from other heroes who had been on the scene.

The prevailing opinion was that the villains had been woefully unprepared for a raid, their hideout unfinished, their weapons almost entirely used up, their research half destroyed but salvageable. Had it not been for the surprise nature of the weapon they were using, his first group probably would have been successful on its own. Two of the villains had been identified as the kidnappers. One of them had a quirk that scrambled memories, one had a quirk that alerted them to how many people were in an area around her. A few appeared to be known muscle for hire, and a few more were workers at the chemical plant on their first offences. The only quirk that he'd encountered that hadn't been accounted for was whatever had been used to track Midoriya down through his laptop, the only person who's quirk hadn't been confirmed was a woman who had been taken to the hospital because she'd been caught in the explosion.

Hitoshi was pretty confident that they weren't the same person, given the whole quirkless angle. Unfortunately, she seemed to be the mastermind as far as he could tell, but until they had more information there was no telling if this was the only operation of its kind, or if it was only a branch of something bigger. Hitoshi prayed for the former, and that whoever had tracked Midoriya down was someone who had been hired for a one off. He was so fucking tired.

After that he went through the tedious process of getting a new secure phone and manually transferring over the contacts, as was standard procedure when there was a possible compromise. That was when he saw the text " I think I've just realized something important about the case. Please call me when you can."

If the timestamp was right he had already been in the building and probably paralyzed when he'd gotten that message. Damn timing.

He worked on it for a few minutes more before the realization hit him that likely the only reason that Midoriya had known something had gone wrong was because of him.

Well, he certainly hadn't meant for his offer to go both ways.

Fuck. He'd hate himself if things had gone any worse than they had. The fact that Midoriya had gotten injured was bad enough as it was. But at the same time he didn't know if he had it in him for another hey don't go running into danger talk. Not when what Midoriya had done ended up helping so immensely.

On the upside, scrolling back in the group chat revealed a message from Kaminari that said: He's awake and okay with visitors :D. So that was one worry off his mind, at least.

He finished with the phone, stole a paper cup of coffee, and hung around outside the police station for a few minutes. Really, he should head back to the hospital, for his own sake if not Midoriya's. Instead he boarded a train and rode to Shoto's agency. No one had ever accused Hitoshi of being the kind of guy who faced his own embarrassing feelings head on.

Not that there was much to do at Shoto's, besides pick up a few things that would make a hospital stay more comfortable and Midoriya's duffle bag. Hopefully it wouldn’t be coming right back here.

Once he had that, he couldn't come up with any other excuses to stay away, except for the fact that the sun would be down by the time he got back and maybe Midoriya would be asleep. His feelings had only gotten better in the sense that he hadn't been thinking about them, and now that he was they felt like even more of a mess. He should at least wait until after the case was formally closed, but Midoriya was in the most danger before that --

He was so tired, so lost in his thoughts that as he walked through the hospital halls he nearly walked face first into Bakugo.

Wait, shit , Bakugo.

God damn it, he'd almost managed to forget. If this son of a bitch had gone anywhere near Midoriya he was probably going to lose his fucking mind. Based on the deep frown etched into the man's face, he'd certainly been doing something.

He looked uncomfortable at least. Subdued in a way that Bakugo usually wasn't, which meant that Hitoshi's tactic of silently staring at him until he said something actually worked, for once.

"You knew." Bakugo's voice was low.

Knew what? Who Midoriya was? That they knew each other? That Bakugo had hurt him? Whatever he was talking about Hitoshi didn't know enough , but he didn't have the energy to be anything but petty.

"Yeah." He said, "There was a reason you didn't."

Bakugo didn't explode in anger, though he looked like he wanted to -- jaw held tight and fists clenched.

"You said that plan was for him not to get killed. How the fuck did he end up fighting villains?"

The literal answer was that Hitoshi had been a dumbass and forgotten all contacts had included Midoriya, though he wasn't exactly about to admit that. The answer Hitoshi was looking for was a little more figurative, and it was also one he didn't have.

"You know, I was gonna ask him the same thing." He reached up to rub at his eyes, which were so tired they were starting to get dry, "Why do you care so much?"

That struck a nerve -- Bakugo sucked in a breath through his teeth and tensed up like he was about to throw a punch. Hitoshi took a careful step back, just in case, but the hit never came.

"Fucker just needs to take care of himself and he won't. Plans on making other people look out for him until he dies I guess."

…That didn't sound right. The Midoriya that Hitoshi knew seemed absolutely dedicated to making himself seem like as little of a burden as possible. He got the feeling that this wasn't about Midoriya not taking care of himself -- though there were arguments to be had that he didn't, really.

"What, you don't think he's capable of defending himself? Is that it?"

Bakugo rolled his shoulders and flexed his jaw, "I know he's not, or else he wouldn't be in there with who knows how many fucking broken bones."

"I think he did pretty well for someone with no backup and no idea how to fight." Hitoshi was actually assuming that second part but it certainly hadn't seemed like it from what Hitoshi had seen, "Both things that can be fixed."

Bakugo sputtered, face growing red.

"You can't seriously think he'll survive out there. You're fucking insane."

"He has so far, and that’s a bigger feat than you think it is." He shrugged, knowing his apparent nonchalance would infuriate Bakugo even more -- though it wasn't even close reflecting to the boiling anger he was feeling right now, "People telling him he can't do shit is how I ended up finding him. I think it's about time someone gave him a chance."

He let that hang, Bakugo apparently not knowing how to respond before he continued, "Do you need anything else? I was kind of in the middle of something."

Bakugo scowled at him, but he didn't respond, and he didn't move to stop Hitoshi as he continued down the hallway. Which was just as well, because Hitoshi would probably do something he regretted if that conversation continued for much longer.

Yeah, if Bakugo was like that now and he was worse as a kid, it was no wonder Midoriya had turned out the way he had. And he was only one person, there was no telling what else the man had been through.

He took a long moment to lean against the wall and run a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. What an absolute fucking mess of a day. And he hadn't even seen Midoriya yet.

He had given himself the perfect excuse, too. He was still carrying Midoriya's bag of things in one hand. He could just… peek into the room, see that he was alright. He'd probably be asleep by now so Hitoshi would be in and out and would have time to figure out what he wanted to say.

Kaminari had also sent the room on the group-chat, so at least it was easy to find. Hitoshi raised his hand to the door, and paused. He would be asleep, and if he wasn't then he just had to not say anything stupid. He could manage that.

Hitoshi gave a light knock and slid open the door. There was the distinctive head of green curls facing towards the window who's owner turned to look at him as he ducked through the entrance. Midoriya blinked at him, and then a smile broke out over his face that was so wide it probably would have hurt without the scrapes and burns. Just seeing it made Hitoshi's heart swell with too much emotion to really process.

Oh, he was going to do something stupid for sure.

Strike one came right away, as he crossed the room to drop Midoriya's bag at the foot of his bed, the green haired man said, "Shinso! I'm really glad you're okay." and he replied "Call me Hitoshi. I think it's fair considering we've saved each other's lives."

Midoriya flushed bright red, appearing for all the world like a strawberry. A very tired and bruised strawberry, but still.

"Oh!" He squeaked, "Well then call me Izuku! Please."

Hitoshi couldn't help it, he smiled, which had Midoriya hiding his face behind his un-bandaged hand. Yeah, if he hadn't planned to say anything then coming in here had been a very bad idea.

"So. Izuku --" The man peeked out at him, slowly lowering his hand to reveal still-pink cheeks, "I hear you've had quite the eventful day."

The smile had fallen, still there but replaced by one a lot much smaller and more somber.

"You did too, I think." His eyes dropped to his lap, "I- I'm sorry I didn't figure things out sooner, or none of this would have even happened--"

Alright, fair, Hitoshi shouldn't have expected this conversation to be all sunshine and roses. He held up a hand.

"The fact that you figured it out at all was already kind of absurd, you know. From what I gathered the only reason things weren't much worse was because you had them on the backfoot from the start."

Which was probably why the villains had been so insistent on targeting Izuku, if he thought about it. They had guessed that he was the one who kept getting them found out, and they had been right.

"I mean… I guess?" One of Izuku's hands fiddled with the hem of his blanket, "Things turned out okay in the end, but there was so much opportunity for me to fuck up by going in there…"

Hitoshi only let the curse phase him for a second, "That's just how this sort of thing works, unfortunately. Missions never go off without a hitch, things turning out okay despite that is the best you can hope for. I've fucked up this case myself, you know."

Izuku blinked at him. Hitoshi knew that he knew, it was just that Midoriya tended to be his own worst critic.

"The warehouse." He clarified, "If I hadn't revealed us there, I bet we could have closed the case the first time we did a raid."

"Ah- but that's not --" Izuku blustered, "You couldn't have known they had a quirk like that!"

"No one can know everything." Though good lord, it seemed like Izuku tried, sometimes, "Everyone got out, take the win."

Strike two was when he leaned over and took Izuku's hand in his own, "Don't get me wrong, what you did was dangerous and stupid, but you did good."

"Yeah I…I knew it was bad. I just wanted to help." Izuku threaded his fingers through Hitoshi's own, and while he seemed to distracted by his thoughts to get embarrassed again, Hitoshi had to actively remind himself to keep breathing, "I think… I think this whole thing made me realize something. I think I'm not the kind of person who can just stand by and watch something happen. I tried to be, and I don’t -- I don't think I would have survived much longer living like that."

Izuku took a careful breath, "When you said I would make a good hero, did you mean it?"

Hitoshi's heart soared. This was a lot of progress. This was a man who finally believed that he was enough.

"I did. I'll help you make it there, if you want."

"That-- that would be nice." Izuku's eyes were misty and his voice had gone rough, but he was smiling again, and gripping Hitoshi's hand tight.

"…One condition though." Well, Hitoshi had to bring it up somehow, "Heroes have a requirement to go to therapy, and I know you don't think you've been through a lot, but you really have. You'd be seeing one once you got licensed anyways, so consider it an early start."

He watched as Izuku's face went from worry, to confusion, to a tired acceptance.

"No… I think that's fair." He said, "I'm pretty sure that thinking 'better I get hurt than them ' isn't the attitude a hero is supposed to have."

God.

"No." Hitoshi agreed, "It's not."

"Though scheduling things out will be tough, huh…" Izuku pulled his hand out of Hitoshi's grasp to tap at his chin, still seemingly unaware that they had been doing it at all, "I mean I guess I'm still in protective custody in the short term, but I'm pretty sure I've been evicted from my apartment by now. And therapists that are known to be quirkless friendly are hard to find and probably pretty expensive..."

Hitoshi cut him off before he could start mumbling.

"If it helps with the second part, you're probably going to be offered a proper job, now that you can prove you've been freelancing. Then it'll be paid for through the agency." Izuku, smart as he was, looked totally dumbstruck at the idea that his high success rate as an analyst was worth something like a promotion.  Then Hitoshi opened his mouth and out came the third strike, "And if it helps with the first, I have an empty room in my apartment that no one is renting right now."

The angel on his shoulder told Hitoshi that he was doing a good thing, that Midoriya needed a place to stay that would be stable, and he had one, and so it only made sense. The devil screamed and cried and said this is insane, why on god's green earth am I inviting my crush to be my roommate, what the fuck am I doing?

Midoriya perked up and said, "Oh, really? That would be amazing!" and he was out.

Izuku got the call early on Friday morning, long before their usual time. To be honest, he was surprised it hadn't come sooner.  Bakugo must have waited until he knew she'd be awake to tell her, because Izuku couldn't imagine his mom waiting once she'd found out. He’d always been nice to her like that.

It was obvious right away that she knew something was up, because in response to his very carefully neutral, "Morning, mom" she took a very shaky breath and said, "Izu, baby? Are you okay?"

The thing was, he was okay. Not physically -- he still had very limited mobility with one of his arms and it hurt to twist too much in either direction -- but for the first time in a long, long time he had a dream to work towards. So even though he knew that wasn't what she was asking about, it was far too easy for him to say, "Yeah, I'm fine." and then in the hopes that maybe he could avoid the conversation he knew was coming he asked, "Are you?"

If he was lucky, Bakugo had only told her that he was in the hospital, or maybe that he had 'done something stupid' and he'd be able to convince her that it was no big deal and that she shouldn't worry. 

Of course, Izuku had already used up all his luck on other things.

"I-" Inko sniffed, "Katsuki called me and said that he thought I could talk some sense into you but…" she took another shuddering breath, and Izuku could easily imagine the tears already falling on the other side of the phone, "Izu, he said that you ran into a gang of villains to try and save the heroes!"

Izuku's heart sank so fast that it hurt. A part of him wanted to feign ignorance, to say that Bakugo was being over-dramatic, but he knew that wouldn't work. Bakugo may have been many things, but he wasn't a liar. He licked at lips that suddenly felt far too dry.

There wasn't much use in pretending now, was there?

"I did. But I'm okay!" No one ever seemed to believe him when he said that, and he knew his mom wouldn't either, so he added, "The heroes are, too."

That didn't seem to convince her, because Izuku heard a muffled sob come through the line. He grimaced and fidgeted with the hospital blanket -- as much as he hated worrying her Izuku couldn't find it in himself to regret what he'd done.

"Izu I -- Why would you--" Her voice suddenly grew hard, "I thought you were over this!"

The line fell silent. Izuku wasn't shocked by the outburst. Not really. He knew his mother had always worried about his heroic streak, knew that she didn't think he was capable of helping anyone, either. She had always called it 'throwing yourself into danger,' not 'saving someone' or 'making sure no one else got hurt.'

Well he had helped. He was starting to think so anyway.

Inko broke before he did.

"S-sorry." She stuttered, "I didn't mean--"

"Mom."

She cut herself off with a sharp breath. All these years later, and Inko had never figured out how to deal with Izuku's hero dream besides worry and hope he'd give it up for something more realistic. And then cruelly, when Izuku had given up it was on everything, and that had only made her worry more. There was nothing he could say that would make her be okay with this, so he didn't try.

"I'm not over it. I think I never was." If he had sealed his fate by talking back to Bakugo, then saying this to his mom was the nail in the coffin, "I'm going to be a hero. I don't think I can be anything else."

Inko gasped, sniffled, and Izuku couldn't find any words to comfort her. He didn't know if they existed. There was really only one justification that could possibly help things.

"It makes me the happiest I've ever been, mom." He hoped his point wasn't weakened by the tears that were starting to be obvious in his own voice. It probably was, because Inko's sobs started up again in earnest.

What else was there to say?

"…I'll call you back later, okay?" It was all he could think to do. His mother's response wasn't terribly coherent, and Izuku hit the end call button with a heavy heart.

He supposed that Bakugo had thought she'd be able to change his mind again, but his mom had only ever been a single line on a long list of things that had stopped him. No, her worry had never made him stop doing anything, it had only made him good at hiding things. The thing that made him stop, really, was --

The wind was cold so high up on the roof, stinging his cheeks, And his childhood hero, his dream, turned an awful, skeletal frown down at him and said "You need to be more realistic." 

He took a shuddering breath and wiped at his eyes. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. Actively avoided it, if he was being honest with himself. It hadn't been the first time Izuku had heard that advice, but it was the first time he'd started really listening to it. But even that hadn't been what had stopped him.

No, that was his mom nervously telling him what had happened to Bakugo, and Izuku searching up the news clip and realizing that the villain had gotten loose because of him. That someone had gotten hurt because of him. Izuku had held that fact with him for years and years, until he had been confronted head on with the fact that more people got hurt if no one did anything at all.

Being realistic had gotten him nowhere. In the grand scheme of things Izuku might not be able to do much, but he was someone who was trying to help and that was better than he'd been before.

He was healed enough now that he was able to hobble over to the bathroom and splash water in his face until it wasn't red and blotchy anymore. A doctor was supposed to come in later that day, and he knew he'd already be making himself look like a fool when he asked about the supposed bone mending quirk they were going to use on him. No need to make them think he was a crying mess on top of it all.

He wandered listlessly back to the bed and slumped onto it, feeling hollow. He tried very hard not to dwell on the phone call he’d just had, because he knew if he did he’d bring himself back to tears. Instead he attempted to focus on something else. Like, he was probably getting discharged from the hospital today, which was nice, and he hopefully wouldn't have to go back to protective custody. Which meant that he would be going to --

He felt his face heat up as he remembered. Izuku didn't know what possessed Shinso -- Hitoshi -- to offer him a place to stay, but it was probably the same thing that possessed Izuku to accept. Not that he wasn't grateful for it or anything, but… What. That offer, much as Hitoshi had tried to make it sound like an easy convenience for both of them, was way beyond the scope of a hero who was just trying to help. So, then, did he see them as friends? Hopefully, right? It would be weird to invite someone you didn't like to be your roommate.

It was just… He had to know, right? Underground heroes had to be observant, Hitoshi especially had to be able to guess what people were feeling, and Izuku knew that he was an obvious mess. So maybe the motive was for them to… Spend more time together? Or something? Izuku really had no idea. If the plan was to make him say something, then it would never be happening. Honestly, it was probably going to be a total disaster, but he knew that he'd have trouble finding a new place to live on such short notice otherwise. Best to just take what he could get and try his hardest not to embarrass himself. 

Maybe it would be better think about how he was going to replace the furniture that he'd left behind instead of the man he’d be living with.

There was a knock on the door and Izuku blinked up at it. He didn't think it was supposed to be the doctor yet, but whoever it was would hopefully be a welcome distraction.

It was -- the door slid open to reveal one Todoroki Shoto, looking as put-together as one could when they only had access to a hospital shower. He held a clipboard and a bundle of papers and he looked at Izuku with a face otherwise blank except for the slight upturn of his lips.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?

"No!" Just an emotional roller coaster . "What do you need?"

Shoto stepped further into the room, gesturing with the paper in his hands towards Izuku.

"It's come to my attention that no one took a statement from you on what happened yet. Considering your involvement…"

Izuku chuckled nervously, "Yeah, that's fair. Uh… Where should I even start?"

Shoto settled in the plush chair that had been shoved into the corner next to his bed and gave him an absolutely deadpan stare.

"How about when you fled protective custody?"

…Right.

Contrary to what people liked to think, and as much as he had trained his quirk, Hitoshi wasn't able to brainwash someone and tell them to spill all their secrets. No, when he needed someone to talk, he had a variety of methods to make them want to tell him things.

He hated doing it. Doubly so when the question-ee figured out what he was doing and fought against it. 

So far they had found out that the woman in the interrogation room was named Hirata Natsumi. Eldest child of the Hirata family, but not the heir to their company. Masters degree in chemistry with significant work towards a Ph.D. Quirkless. Had received less injuries than Izuku in the explosion, but had lost most of her hair.

She knew about his quirk, clearly, because she refused to speak if he was even in the room. When she spoke to anyone else, she kept her words short and vague. 

Even more annoying than her ability to stretch out an interrogation was the fact that once she had been confirmed quirkless everyone else in the station had started spinning wild theories that ranged anywhere from 'she must not have known what she was doing'  to 'the testimonies and reports of all of the other villains and heroes on the scene were wrong, because there was no a quirkless person could be in charge of an operation that had caused so much damage.' Hitoshi chewed out the offenders when he heard them but knew it wasn't making much of a difference.

They had been doing this routine for hours now, where some hero or officer would sit across from her in the interrogation room. Questions were asked that were avoided or ignored, and whenever she got annoyed with the person interrogating her she stopped talking entirely. 

Would it be totally wrong of him to compare her determination to Izuku's? She certainly didn't seem to have a care for any of the threats others had tried to intimidate her with, which was a familiar attitude.

When he went back into the room it was, ostensibly, to give the others who she might actually talk to a break, while still keeping the pressure up. But when he opened the door she glared at him and hissed, "I don’t have anything to say to you. "

Hitoshi responded, "Alright. Then who do you have something to say to?"

And that was how they'd ended up here. Hitoshi watching through the one-way glass as Izuku sat opposite the woman who had made their life hell for the past month.

Poor guy just couldn't catch a break, though in what was apparently classic Izuku fashion he hadn't seemed to mind all that much when his first stop on being discharged from the hospital was to go talk to the villain who had put him there.

"It makes sense, I think." He'd said when Hitoshi had admitted that she'd claimed not to want to talk to anyone else, "She probably doesn't think anything she says will matter when it comes to her sentencing. I’d bet she’s just looking for someone to rant at who she believes might actually listen."

Hirata tapped her chewed down nails on the table -- wrist secured tightly to it by magnetic cuffs -- as she stared down Midoriya with a frankly venomous glare. Despite the fact that she'd been the one who'd asked for him, Izuku was the one who spoke first.

"I've been thinking about what you've said you know." Izuku rested his chin in one hand, staring more at the wall behind than the woman herself, "You seem pretty smart, so you have to have realized that unless you were able to coordinate with every quirkless person in Japan, all you were doing was painting bigger targets on the back of everyone who didn't have access to what you were making, right?"

"Maybe in the short term." She bit back, "In the long term, I would have forced everyone to acknowledge that they can't keep ignoring us."

"…They don't ignore us, they punch us down." Izuku said the grim statement so evenly, knowing the woman on the other side of the table wasn't going to argue with him, "Getting every quirkless person labeled a potential terrorist will just make them punch harder."

"But it would force people to acknowledge that we're at least capable of something." Hirata, who had otherwise been keeping her anger at a low simmer finally started to raise her voice, "No one can accuse you of being worthless when they can't talk."

Izuku hummed… sympathetically?  The look on his face was distant so Hitoshi really didn't have any idea what he was thinking. Hirata sneered at him.

"Don't give me that. The only reason you were down there was to impress your hero friends right? To convince them you could be useful?"

Izuku gave her a sad smile, "You have it backwards, actually. They had to convince me that I could be." He licked his lips, "But I know not everyone can be as lucky as me."

Hirata gave a bitter laugh. "You actually had a hero show up to save you, huh? You really are lucky."

Izuku glanced at the window that Hitoshi was watching through. "Yeah. It... took a while, but yeah."

Both of them fell silent at that, and a worm of guilt twisted uncomfortably in Hitoshi's gut.Helping Izuku had been worth it, obviously, but it didn't actually solve the problem, did it?

Finally, Izuku looked at her and tentatively asked, "I asked before but, did the people with you know? Did you have anyone actually supporting you, or…?"

"No." Hirata said bluntly, much to Hitoshi's surprise. Her expression had pulled into something much closer to exhaustion than anger, "You think anyone would support a quirkless person trying to get a little leverage? No one but one of us, and not even then until I could prove it was even possible. Which I have, by the way. And if you hadn't kept meddling I would have been able to actually do something."

Hitoshi shuddered a bit. It was true; that gas had managed to incapacitate eight pro heroes more or less on accident. If Hirata had more time to prepare there was no telling how things could have gone.

Worse, probably.

"I'm sorry." Izuku said, sounding surprisingly genuine, "I mean, obviously I don't agree with what you were doing, but I don't think you should have had to go it alone, either."

Or perhaps, if she'd had even a single supporter in her life, she wouldn't have ended up here in the first place.

...Had Izuku had anyone at all, before Hitoshi had shown up?

"Well I did." Hirata's lip curled up into an angry mockery of a smile, "Not so bad for a worthless null, huh?"

Izuku didn't respond to that, though to Hitoshi the sadness that etched his face was an answer enough. 

The silence stretched on long enough that Hitoshi was starting to seriously consider calling this the end and getting Izuku out of there. Only, Hirata started drumming her fingers on the table again.

"…You're trying to get information out of me right?"

Hitoshi didn't know if Izuku nodding apologetically was the right move, but that was what he did. Hirata hissed out a sigh.

"…I'll answer some stuff for you if you can promise me you'll sit down with the chemistry department of Tokyo U and ask them if someone who stole all their research could have pulled off something like I did. Maybe send me photos of their faces when they realize what they lost." Then she mumbled, barely audible, "Might as well get whatever joy I can before I die in prison."

Ah. That was probably what was going to be listed as the motive, then, though Hitoshi really hoped he'd be able to work something into the report about years of discrimination. At any rate, he was sure that he could find himself taking great pleasure in sitting down a bunch of bigoted old academics and outlining exactly how much trouble they had caused. He hit the button for the intercom and leaned to the mic.

"That can be arranged."

And, well, she was right about the other part, too. Quirkless people who got sent to prison basically never made it out. Hitoshi had no idea what he could do about that, either.

Hirata let out a mirthless laugh.

"Fine, then. What do you want to know?"

And so the case ended as un-climatically as it began. With an email.

--

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Case 408838 [Close Request]

Will be coming by to do the paperwork proper tomorrow morning, but me and the analyst agree that fringe groups are pretty unlikely. Not impossible but we'd basically be looking for the niche category of ‘quirkless people with advanced bio-chemistry knowledge and criminal connections’. Perp implied that there weren't any helpers that weren't hired, and given the testimony and rep sheets of everyone else we bagged I'm inclined to believe it.

Speaking of said analyst, when I swing by it'll be with him to pick up paycheck and insurance stuff. If you don't give him the promotion I talked about I will literally walk him to another agency myself. We all know how lucky we are to have him.

--

Izuku sat next to him as he typed up the message, blinking tiredly at the wall, eyes not focusing on anything in particular. Hitoshi could relate, but before he could offer something like coffee Izuku realized that he had stopped typing. He tilted his head, mouth open like he wanted to ask a question. He almost looked guilty, and after a second he turned away, clearly embarrassed.  Considering… Well, everything, Hitoshi didn't have a good feeling about letting that go unquestioned. So he nudged Izuku with his shoulder and asked, "You good?"

"Ah, yeah I just…" Izuku furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at his hands, "…Have you ever thought a villain might have a good point?"

… That was what he was worrying about? Hitoshi really hadn't expected someone as smart as Izuku to struggle over the morality of agreeing with a villain. Though he was also glad Izuku had asked the question of him instead of anyone else, since he wasn't sure that even most of his classmates would have given good answers.

"They usually do." He answered, "Most people don't turn to crime for no reason. It's generally the methods that we take issue with."

There was absolutely another universe where Hitoshi's boundless spite had pushed him in the opposite direction, where instead of proving everyone in his life wrong and becoming a hero he'd instead decided that if they all thought he was going to be a villain anyways he might as well be the best villain there ever was. He still had nightmares about it, sometimes. The fact that Izuku was asking the question implied that had never even considered that as an option.

Like everything else to do with the man, Izuku's strength of character made Hitoshi feel very, very lucky. Because if Izuku had decided to do what Hirata had done, he seriously doubted anyone would have found out until it was far too late.

"The hardest part of this job isn't catching villains." He said, "It's trying to figure out how to stop the things that make people into villains in the first place."

"Right." Izuku breathed softly, shoulders losing tension as he did, "Of course."

At that, Hitoshi pushed himself to his feet and offered hand, which Izuku looked up at through his eyelashes.

"I think we could both use a break after all this." he said, "Let me show you home."

Things got better, got worse, and then, ever so slowly, started to get better again. Maybe even better than ever.

Sleeping in Hitoshi's apartment (their apartment?) didn't turn out to be as awkward as Izuku had built it up to be in his head. The hero first introduced him to Shithead, who didn't even acknowledge his presence, and who had swatted at Hitoshi's attempt to pet behind her ears.

"This is so sad." Hitoshi shook his head in mock betrayal, "What did Hanta even do to you?" before turning to Izuku and saying, "Don't let her attitude fool you, if you sleep with your door open you'll probably wake up with her on your chest."

Immediately after, he was shown to what was going to be his room. Hitoshi pulled a futon from the closet to air out, saying, "I think if I were more chivalrous I'd offer to sleep on the couch while you took my bed, but since you're not technically a guest that would be kind of weird? I have it on good authority that the couch is comfortable, though."

Izuku forced himself to put all thoughts of Hitoshi's bed aside to think about later. He laughed and hoped it didn't sound as nervous as he thought it did, "I'll probably have to go out and buy new furniture, I can't imagine I'm still welcome at my old place." At Hitoshi's frown, he just shrugged, "It was already pretty cheap, it's fine."

Sure, if he wanted to he could probably get into a whole fight over eviction laws and renters rights but his desire to do any of that was an astronomical zero. Hitoshi seemed to pick up on that, or maybe just the fact that he was still exhausted from the interrogation he'd just had be a part of on top of the poor quality of sleep in the hospital, so he let it drop with a, "Well, we can go pick up new stuff once you get your paycheck tomorrow, yeah?"

And that ended up being an event on it's own. Hitoshi had them both don face masks and beanies as they rode the train, only to walk to what appeared to be a very normal office building. And not the 'normal on the outside, clearly a front for something on the inside' kind of office building -- Hitoshi led them through a rather circuitous path of hallways to keep out of everyone's way, because they were actually working. The office they ended up at was tiny and out of the way, covered with yellowing wallpaper and safety posters. The man at the desk inside didn't greet them, he just looked at them from behind the rim of his glasses and said, "Well give me some ID, then."

When the man took it from him, Izuku noted that he made a point of brushing their fingers together, but he did it to Hitoshi too and the purple-haired man didn't seem to react so Izuku was just going to follow his lead.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't hoped for some secret passage to a high-tech lair to open up, but the man just sighed, nodded, and started to shuffle through the paperwork on his desk.

"Mind Jack, you're getting the normal, plus a week paid leave."

"…I was only in there a few hours, is the whole week really necessary?"

Both Izuku and the man at the desk raised their eyebrows at Hitoshi's arguing, though Izuku's was more in surprise while the man's…

"Standard procedure. Feel free to argue with it if you want, but not with me."

"I might." Hitoshi crossed his arms almost childishly, only to uncross them and sigh a moment later as he gave up the fight. He might have glanced at Izuku before he did, which raised questions that he had no way of answering.

"As for you,” He turned to Izuku “congratulations on your promotion --" a new bundle of paperwork was placed in his hands, "Your leave is two weeks. Any questions?"

Many, actually. Too many to figure out which ones were important enough to ask.

"Erm. Thank you?" He drew up completely short when he glanced down at the paper in his hands and saw the check on top. The check for more money than he had ever had in his entire life.

"Uh --" He couldn't even attempt to lower the register of his voice, shocked as he was. Was this some kind of a test or something? "I think you gave me too much money?"

Hitoshi peered over his shoulder and tilted his head, "No, that seems about right."

Izuku had no idea what emotion he was feeling right now, and so had defaulted to being overwhelmed. "I thought you said that it wouldn't be a lot!"

"Well…" Said Hitoshi, "I think I also said payable per case completed, and I'm pretty sure that check includes things you solved for us before you were actually working here."

"At half the intern rate." The man behind the desk added, "As an incentive to retain talented analysts."

"But. I." He had to stop talking or he was going to start crying again, "Okay?"

At least he wasn't going to have to worry about affording furniture. Which was exactly where Hitoshi took him afterwards, and was significantly less stressful because despite the windfall, Izuku just picked out the cheapest things anyways. Hitoshi had shrugged and said it was his room to do with as he wanted. Then he said that even if the bedframe was cheap, Izuku might want to splurge a bit on the mattress and, again, that had Izuku's mind going to places about Hitoshi and beds that he knew weren't being implied, so he turned his brain off and bought a higher end one like was suggested to him.

Somewhere along the way, Hitoshi slipped off the get them lunch, and when Izuku sputtered in protest he smiled a grin that was probably meant to be unsettling but which Izuku found a little too endearing to be safe, "What, I'm not allowed to celebrate my friend getting a promotion?"

Izuku's lip wobbled and he turned his face into his lunch to hide it. He supposed that if he were more dramatic that 'friend' could have hurt his pining heart, but to be honest he was just floored to even be that.

"I still owe you and Shoto a celebration dinner, I'm gonna be in charge of that."

Hitoshi rolled his eyes, though it seemed to be in good nature. "Ugh. Fine. I guess I can't actually force you to keep that nosy asshole out of the apartment."

He didn't realize until later that his only real way to contact Shoto was through email, and using it to invite him to dinner seemed… Kind of strange? He did it though, because he'd promised, and when he said he'd done as much Hitoshi had said that they ought to invite Tokoyami as well. The former had shown up with yakitori, and the latter with cupcakes and that had led to Hitoshi complaining that he would have done something if he'd known it was a potluck. Still, it was nice. Really nice, if not a little bittersweet, because Izuku had never done anything like it before and he wasn't wholly convinced that he'd get to do it again. 

At some point during the night, between talks of cat adoptions and promotions, Shoto had looked at him and raised an eyebrow and asked if he had thought any more about becoming a hero and he'd shared a look with Hitoshi who'd given him this tiny, soft, smile that was going to haunt him for days and said that they were working on it.

Unfortunately that was when things started to get worse.

That night, after everyone had gone home, he called his mom again, like he'd said he would, only to end up in a stilted conversation where neither of them knew what to say. He didn't want to mention his new job, because he'd signed NDAs and she was probably going to imagine the worst anyways. He tentatively said that he'd moved to a new apartment, one that was even in a safer part of town, and she shakily responded that it sounded nice before falling quiet again. To his surprise, she didn't beg him to stop, or reconsider, or even to come visit. She didn't seem to have much of anything to say at all, except that she hoped he was doing well, and to be honest her lack of comment probably spiraled him further into second-guessing himself than any lecture could have.

The next day Hitoshi called him over to look at therapists offices.

It was a good idea. A necessary one. He knew that. That didn't stop him from coming home from the sessions more exhausted than he'd ever been while literally on the run for his life. The therapist he picked was a lovely woman, and Izuku liked her a lot, but talking to her served as one constant reminder that no, those things shouldn't have happened to you, the world is fucked up and hates you and all you can really do is try and cope. She talked a lot about finding self confidence (he was trying) and peers to support him (he might have some, now? They were heroes, but if that's what he was trying to become…)  and valuing his own life as much as everyone else's, which was kind of the hard one.

For the first week, while he was also on leave, Hitoshi acted as a sort of pillar. A familiar face and reminder that no, the world wasn't all bad, that at least one person cared enough to pay attention. Though he was so emotionally wrung out, that when he spotted the man trying to write up a hero training plan he burst into tears and had to insist that he was fine.

The second week was… Harder. Since he wasn't supposed to work --not that he let that stop him, exactly, he'd just have a lot of things to send in once he'd officially started -- he spent a lot of time moping around, his poor sleep schedule making an immediate return. Though that did leave him awake when Hitoshi returned from patrols. And… Well. Hitoshi was working hard. Izuku was trying to get better; sitting around feeling sorry for himself was exactly what he was trying not to do, anymore. He might not be able to do much, yet, but if waiting around to greet his roommate after work with a cup of tea counted as helping, he might as well, right?

Sent:

do you happen to have any hero training lesson plans laying around I could take a look at

From Dad:

I'm surprised the rat got to you so quickly

Sent:

what

From Dad:

hm

ignore that

I think I have some things I can send over

___

Hitoshi didn't tend to be dramatic about his own feelings. Usually, if they were inconvenient, he was very good at squashing them down and ignoring them until they went away, or at least until he figured out how to cope with them and get on with his life. He had hoped that maybe the extended and prolonged contact he was now having with his crush would help him get over it, or at least learn to live with it.

Neither of those things had happened. No, Izuku being a new constant in his life had made things unbearably, beautifully worse.

He didn't use the phrase lightly, but Hitoshi was pretty sure he was in love, and it was sort of a huge problem.

As Izuku settled down and got into a rhythm with work he seemed to grow less nervous. That spark in his eyes that Hitoshi had wanted to see again so badly was showing up more with each passing day and each solved case. He seemed less flustered around Hitoshi, too, which was good. The moments where he'd snark something at Izuku and Izuku would just roll his eyes and snark back were often the highlight of his day. Fuck's sake, Izuku made it a point to be around on his rare days off, so they could 'hang out and not spend the whole day sleeping.' If anyone had asked Hitoshi before if he thought he would have enjoyed quirk science documentaries or weird science fiction anime the answer would have been a resounding "I don't know." But now he did know -- he liked those things and he especially liked the way Izuku lit up when he talked about them. Really, everything had gone exactly how he'd hoped it would, which made the fact that he'd put himself in this situation that much worse.

Sure, they'd put the 'I'm in charge of protecting your life' part of the relationship behind them, only to move on to 'now I'm responsible for making sure you can achieve your dreams.' There was still the whole hero and citizen dynamic to worry about too, not to mention the whole roommate thing. Far too many reasons for Izuku to feel pressured into doing things he might not otherwise want to, plus Hitoshi's own irrational fear that if he did confess anything he'd be accused of manipulating Izuku closer to him from the very start. It was ridiculous, but so were most of the things that plagued his mind on sleepless nights. 

The fact that he'd often get home from patrol to find Izuku waiting for him was really not helping things. He just prayed that Izuku hadn’t noticed his stupid lovestruck stares, because he’d caught himself doing that far, far too often.

So, that meant he was left trying to fix the first two problems, and hopefully that would make the third less of an issue.

Izuku would have to learn how to fight, firstly, and if there was one thing he was more qualified to teach than most other heroes it was how to fight quirkless. But there was also general physical conditioning that had to be done too, and he knew just enough about that to know that  handing Izuku his own workout plan and telling him to go at it probably wouldn't work out the best. And then there was the whole rescue heroics thing that he barely remembered anything about, so he might as well re-up himself on that if Izuku was going to be learning that anyways. Point being that he was quickly coming to the conclusion that he wasn't going to be able to do all of this on his own.

___

Class A Group Chat (Please do not change this)

Tired ™: alright team

Tired ™: who wants to volunteer to help train someone to be a hero

Pikachu…Two!: …someone?

Sexier Xenomorph: Someone??? :) :)

Tired ™: i mean its the concerned citizen

Tired ™: I know youre all nosy enough to figure that out

Tired ™: basically I think anything you can offer right now

Tired ™: advice, sparring, lessons, whatever

Tired ™: im kinda just working with what ive got which as you all know isn't much

gov assigned pun name:  I've already offered the use of my agency's gym, that offer still stands

gov assigned pun name:  I suppose I could also offer myself as a sparing partner for practice against a long range quirk

Spaced out: ohhh omg omg this is so cool I'm in

Spaced out: I think in order to get the full license you have to have proof of a certain amount of disaster training which luckily for YOU, I'm now accredited to give as of later this week

Spaced out: Tsu too :)

Spaced out: OBVIOUSLY I also want to spar though are you kidding me I've gotta know what this guys moves are

Sexier Xenomorph: yeah you guys are totally free to use my studio space if you need!!

Sexier Xenomorph: also I want to spar!!!

Tired ™: alright hold on anyone else who wants to spar just say aye

ultimate fly paper: aye can't believe this is happening

I like big beats: aye

Pikachu…Two!: aye lmao

_: aye!!

frog.: aye

Tired ™: well fuck alright I guess that's covered

Ingenium: Are you certain this is the wisest idea?

Ingenium: Were you not concerned that this person was involved with criminals?

Tired ™: and I confirmed that theyre not

Ingenium: I see. Well I'm interested as well, then.

Ingenium: Team Idaten is known for having many non-traditional heroes in its ranks, so I'm sure that I have something to offer.

Tired ™: nice

Die: hold the fuck up, are you all insane??

Die: do you all understand that you're going to get him killed by letting him do this?

Tired ™: oh I was wondering where you were

Tired ™: look

Tired ™: just read this carefully, I'm not going to repeat myself

Tired ™:  he's going to do this. him being prepared is how he stays alive.

___

Hitoshi learned his lesson immediately after Izuku had his first lesson on rescue heroics with Uraraka. He'd left them about half-way through to go on patrol, only to pass her on his way back home. She'd waved and smiled at him and it took him a few minutes to realize, with dawning horror, that she’d been coming from the apartment. Izuku was social. It was going to be like living with Hanta all over again. 

Between her, Shoto, and Tokoyami the apartment now had a constant stream of guests that he really wasn't used to. He could never actually find it in himself to really complain about it, though.

Perhaps worst of all was that, after they'd had a long conversation where Izuku outlined all the ways that he had never, actually, broken the law, he became fast friends with Iida, too, and that was more than a little frightening. Iida played the rule-abiding stickler, and he was, but he had no problem using loopholes where he found them, so putting him next to Izuku was a legal nightmare waiting to happen.

But, ever so slowly, and with a lot of help, things went. Izuku was just as fast of a learner as Hitoshi expected him to be, and it was more than a little amusing to see everyone who showed up to spar realize just how dangerous Izuku’s mind could be. He was making quick progress in quirkless fighting -- the first time Izuku had pinned him might have left them both red in the face and Hitoshi horribly frustrated with the fact that he still couldn’t say anything. And when Izuku spared against his former classmates, as they used their quirks, it seemed like he always found some new weakness to exploit. He couldn’t quite go head on against Todoroki, not many people could, but he figured out the trick to avoid getting encased in ice was to keep moving which put him ahead of most. The moment when he’d punched Kaminari hard in the chest and caused him to short circuit in a way he hadn’t since high-school had been equal parts terrifying and hilarious. Izuku had apologized for five minutes straight, and then again once Kaminari had come back to himself and wheezed out a laugh.

There also may have been a moment when Izuku had been facing down Uraraka, formulated some kind of plan and a feral grin had stretched across his face and Hitoshi’s insides had done a weird twist at seeing it because yeah, he wasn’t just cute, he had the potential to be fucking devious, and maybe Hitoshi found that kind of hot? Help him first, hit on him later, you irresponsible prick.

Izuku won the match, but Uraraka sent him her own devious look after that did not look nearly as good on her.

And of course, he’d kept up just fine with his analyst job. Still had the highest success rate of anyone Hitoshi could find. He almost would have worried that Izuku was stretching himself too thin, if only Izuku weren’t looking better every day.

He knew what it was like to feel so far behind the starting line that it seemed impossible to catch up. His job was just to show him that it wasn’t.

There was just so much. Izuku was making great progress in hand to hand combat, so they’d started discussing him learning to use a weapon, and that had extended into a talk about the sort of support equipment he might want to use.  

Tokoyami had been there that day, all three of them sitting cross legged on the gym floor, knowing they needed to clean up and leave and none of them being quite willing to yet. And he’d said, “I suppose the equipment you choose would depend on if you plan on going into underground or spotlight heroics, no?”

Izuku blinked. Hitoshi blinked too. He’d always just sort of assumed that Izuku was going to go underground, but he was also very biased. Izuku settled his chin in his hand, brow furrowed deep in thought.

“I actually… Was thinking that it might be best to be a twilight hero like you, Tokoyami.” Hitoshi kept his face carefully neutral, Izuku chewed on his lip, “I think people are gonna find me and try and fight me on this eventually, no matter what. So it might be best for me to do as much as I can, to prove that it’s possible before I get noticed, and then start working in the spotlight once I am. Plus…” Izuku heaved a long sigh, gaze going distant, “It would have meant so much to me as a kid to see someone quirkless doing anything, so even if I was an underground hero I wouldn’t want to stay there forever.”

Hitoshi’s lips quirked up at that. Prove everyone wrong would have been his motivation, but he supposed that just proved the difference between them.

“Well…” He said slowly, “I think that could work, though that also means you’re going to have to learn about PR and stuff like that.” He’d have to find someone else to help with that, too. Hitoshi didn’t know the first thing about it, “Have you been thinking about your hero name then?”

Izuku froze at that, eyes going wide for just a moment before a slow smile started to break out across his face.

“I… Have some ideas.” Then he laughed, a little breathless, “Holy shit, this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.” Hitoshi grinned back.

Yeah, he knew that feeling, too.

Sometimes Izuku really wished that he could stop thinking so hard about things.

In theory, that little trait of his was a good thing, or so his therapist kept reminding him. She’d said not many people have critical thinking skills as strong as you do.  It was what had gotten him noticed by Hitoshi, and what had carried him through the very many dangerous situations he'd been in not only recently, but throughout his entire life. It was what was currently allowing him to help people in a way he had long ago given up on being able to do -- hell, it was what had gotten him his job.

What it didn't do was help him figure out just what Hitoshi Shinso thought of him.

Izuku had accepted that they were friends, because at this point if they weren't he didn't know what to make of anything. If there was anything more, well…

Well, Izuku hadn't had very many real-life friends before now, but he was confident that there was something different between him and Hitoshi and, say, Uraraka or Iida or anyone else. (Saying out loud that he and two high ranking pros were friends was still a little unbelievable, but he was getting there). It could have been because of the long life-or-death situation they had spent together, or maybe it was just because they were roommates, or maybe Izuku was just projecting what he wanted to be true onto things that should have been innocuous. He was pretty sure he wasn't, though, and that was what made figuring out what to do so difficult.

The fact that he sometimes spent nights half-heartedly smothering himself under a pillow because he'd just remembered that Hitoshi was the next room over, and wouldn't it be nice if his big strong arms were wrapped around him made Izuku much less sure if he was reading the moments when Hitoshi actually did do something like that totally wrong.

Which… Yeah. Izuku had never pegged Hitoshi as a particularly physical person, and honestly it seemed like he mostly wasn't, but every now and then he'd end up with an arm around his shoulders, or with long legs tossed over his own, or a hand on the top of his head. Once, after a particularly heavy day of therapy, Hitoshi had just held him, somehow aware that it was the thing he'd needed most. And yes those all could be perfectly normal friendship things, if only he'd ever seen Hitoshi do anything like that with anyone else. Hitoshi was friends with Tokoyami and Kaminari and Shoto and the most physical interaction he had with any of them, at least where Izuku could see, was bumping shoulders.

And that was to say nothing of the looks. He was beginning to lose count of the amount of times he'd caught Hitoshi just… Watching him, usually with a slight smile, and when Izuku brought it up Hitoshi would just brush it off and say he'd gotten lost in thought. Which was fine, but it always seemed to happen when Hitoshi was looking at him. All of the evidence Izuku was gathering pointed to a certain conclusion that made him both incredibly hopeful and incredibly nervous.

He could complain that Hitoshi hadn't said anything, but then again, he hadn't either.

So, what to do about it?

One of the things he'd learned from his new job was that, when he didn't know enough about something, he didn't always have to stay up for hours hunting for tiny details to find a new lead. Sometimes he had the option of asking for clarification, or even for a hero to go out and find more information. One day he'd be able to do it himself, but for now it was a resource he was trying to get comfortable using. When applying that knowledge to his private life, though…

Well, asking for relationship advice was a thing friends did, right? He should be in the clear to do that.

That was how he ended up in the booth of a tiny ramen restaurant with an incognito Uraraka and Shoto (alright, he lied, he really hadn't started to get used to that. He wasn't sure if he ever would), muscles sore from a long day of physical training. He'd been able to get away and not end up 'dead' when both of the heroes he'd been practicing with had come after him at the same time; if he hadn't been distracted, he might have gotten the chance to hide away and get the jump on Shoto, which would have been a feat on it's own, though he still hadn't quite managed it. He was doing okay, or at least he thought so, and Uraraka at least thought so too, because she ordered and turned to face him with a bubbly smile.

"I meant to say but you've been making great progress! If you keep up this pace I bet you'll totally be ready for the provisional exam in a few months!"

Izuku flushed a little at the compliment. He'd done his research and he knew that the licensing exams for adults tended to be much more rigorous than those for high-schoolers. Depending on the format he could run into some real problems, and there was no way he'd been preparing for as long as most of the other people who would be there. But before he could voice any of those doubts Shoto piped up with, "I think the window for submitting applicants opens soon, so you'll probably want to start figuring out which agency you want to sponsor you."

Shoto's tone of voice very much implied that he thought that Izuku should ask him. Honestly, Shoto's steadfast support of him from the beginning had meant a lot to Izuku, but he hadn't been able to understand why Shoto would put so much faith in him until he found out that the cases he'd sent their way had, for the first time, caused his agency's case resolution rate to edge above Endeavour's.

"I'll start thinking about it, yeah." He said, knowing full well that Tokoyami would already be taking that honor. Heroes tended to get sponsored by the types of agencies they were looking to join later, after all.

Uraraka elbowed him in the side, "Does that mean you've been thinking about a hero name?"

"I might have been." Izuku forced his mouth into a thin line so that he wasn't smiling so obviously. He honestly wasn't sure if anyone but him would really understand it, but the idea of him having a hero name still felt like a dream, "It's still a secret, though. You can't pry it out of me."

Uraraka huffed, but was immediately distracted by the delivery of their drinks to the table -- the waiter clearly recognized at least Shoto and didn't seem to care, and when Izuku commented it on it the man shrugged and said "That's why I like this place."

Izuku stirred the ice in his drink, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t ask himself what the worst that could happen was, because he now knew that he liked to catastrophize a bit too much. Yes, the anxious part of his brain was telling him that actually admitting his crush out loud would cause his friends to laugh at and abandon him, but the logical, slightly vindictive part said that if they did that then the joke was on them, because that effort wouldn’t have been worth the payoff.

He cleared his throat and watched the ice swirl around.

"I uh -- I have a question for you guys. About Hitoshi?"

As if he had said the magic words, both heroes' eyes locked on him with surprising intensity. Izuku almost balked.

"Do you guys know if he…" Izuku bit his lip, "Do you know what he's like when he likes someone?"

Uraraka leaned closer to him, eyes sparking with something devious.

"Oh? Do you think he likes someone?"

"I--" He looked over at Shoto, whose mouth was quirked into a smirk that on anyone else probably would have been hysterical laughter. He took a deep breath. "I think so? But… I like him so I want to make sure that I'm not misreading things."

He had gone into this hoping for helpful advice, or at least some sympathy. He didn't know what to make of the fact that both of his friends sighed and said, at the same time, "Oh, thank god."

At his confused blink, Uraraka put her chin in her hands, "We were really afraid that you were both just being really dense."

Izuku willed his face to not heat up any more than it already had, "So we're on the same page? You think he might like me?"

Uraraka snorted, "I don't think might is even a question. He totally does."

"Possibly more than he's liked anyone else, ever." Shoto added, "He's usually much better at hiding his emotions than he has been with you."

He knew that already in theory, but the confirmation had him totally failing to keep his face from turning bright red.

"O-Oh. Well. That's good." He swallowed, "Is there a reason he hasn't said anything? Or why I shouldn't?"

He knew the answer to the second question was at least partially the fact that he risked dying of embarrassment on the spot. His friends probably didn't think that was a very good answer, though they did look thoughtful. At some point, their food arrived, though Izuku couldn't make himself pay it any mind. 

Finally Uraraka said, "As much as I'd like to mock him for being a coward, I think he's just trying to be respectful of your feelings. You've been through a lot of major life events in a short amount of time. You're sort of still going through one right now."

"Also he is a coward." Shoto added.

Izuku slowly reached for the chopsticks, breaking them apart as a pensive frown formed on his face.

"So you think he might be… Waiting for me to get my hero license?" God he hoped not. Thinking about that already filled him with anxious dread. He didn't want something else to be riding on it, too.

Uraraka broke her own chopsticks and stirred her noodles for a moment.

"I don't think it's that serious but… Sort of?" She looked over at Shoto, who had wasted no time digging into his own dish. He swallowed a mouthful of noodles and added, "You didn't hear this from me, but he's always been worried about being seen as manipulative because of his quirk. I'd imagine he's waiting until he feels like you'd feel comfortable rejecting him if you wanted to."

Izuku felt like he shouldn't have been as blindsided about this as he was. Hitoshi had all but told him that he'd faced discrimination for his quirk. He acted so confident most of the time, but he was a human with his own insecurities. Still…

"But… I wouldn't want to?"

Uraraka sighed. "And that's exactly why the two of you have come to an impasse. You know what this means you have to do, right?"

"Um." Said Izuku, "No?"

"It means -- " She said very seriously, though not without a devilish smile, "That you have to tell him."

Hitoshi slid through the door of the apartment at around 3 AM. It had been a long, uneventful night of patrolling that was made immediately better when he got home to find the lights still on. He still wasn't used to coming back to an apartment that wasn't empty, but he kind of really liked it. Hitoshi took a moment to pull off his boots, stopped off to give Shithead a few well deserved pets, and made his way into the kitchen where Izuku was sitting at the counter, hunched over something with a pen. It didn't look like a notebook, and Hitoshi's lips twitched into a grin once he caught a glimpse of what it was.

"Paperwork?"

"Yeah." Izuku looked up at him with a smile that was a little apprehensive, "I was wondering if you'd look over it for me?"

Hitoshi nodded and sat next to him, pausing for a moment once he saw what the paperwork was actually for. The application for the provisional licensing exam. Really, there wasn't all that much to it, and nothing that Izuku was really at risk of filling in wrong. He glanced over the sheet once before his eyes flicked back to the top of the page, where there was a line for Hero Name that had been filled in. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his eyebrows from pulling together.

"Deku? As in…Useless?"

"Ah, yeah, kind of." Izuku bounced one leg anxiously, but he was still smiling even in the face of Hitoshi's deepening frown. "It's another way to read my name. It's -- Well it's something I got called a lot as a kid. I thought… You know people are going to say that kind of stuff about me anyways, so I might as well be cheeky about it."

"Cheeky…" Hitoshi's eyes were dragged back to the carefully written Deku, "You're not, though. Useless."

"I know." replied Izuku, easier than Hitoshi had expected, "If I can prove it to myself, then I can prove it to everyone else, too."

Hitoshi wasn't sure if he should be proud of the confidence, or if he should protest the name a little more. Then again, he'd arrived at Mind Jack from the long years of being called variations of mind freak and mind fucker, so he could understand the sentiment. He shuffled the paper back over and offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

"You will."

Izuku smiled back, bright and genuine, and Hitoshi was doing that thing again where he wanted to just keep staring forever. Some part of his mind wandered off to wax poetic about how he was too good for this world, how he was amazing for still being able to smile like that. The only thing that kept him from embarrassing himself this time was the drumming of the pen on the counter as Izuku looked back at the papers reminding him that Izuku was right there and could see him.

"Nervous?" He offered. Izuku let out a shaky chuckle.

"Yes. Well -- No. Yes." Izuku wrinkled his nose,  "Yes to what you're thinking about and yes to something else, too."

"Okay…" The rambling made that obvious, at least. At some point the tea kettle had started to whistle. Hitoshi hadn't even realized it had been on, "Would talking about it help?"

"No. It'll just make it worse. But I have to or else I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about it." Izuku stood up and made his way around the counter, starting the process of steeping the tea. "You're working the late patrol again tomorrow, right? Are you gonna stay up?"

"Yeah." If he hadn't been before, he was going to now, "I'll be here if you need?"

Izuku nodded, and in a few minutes Hitoshi was sitting next to him on the couch, mug of tea in hand, watching Izuku fidget and try to figure out how to say whatever he was going to say. Hitoshi did his best not to speculate too wildly -- this could be about anything. His licensing exam, his work, his friends. Maybe something about his past? Shit, if Bakugo had somehow found him --

"So, uh. I went out for food after training today with Shoto and Uraraka." Friend stuff, then? "And we had a conversation that, well…" Izuku grimaced, then sighed, looking up at Hitoshi with an expression that was equal parts apprehensive and searching, "Hypothetically, what would you do if a civilian had feelings for you?"

Wait. Wait. Holy shit was he even ready to have this conversation? Were they even having the same conversation?

"Uh --" He croaked, trying to get his suddenly blank mind to come up with something, "Hypothetical me, or a hypothetical pro hero?"

Izuku licked his lips and Hitoshi did not look down at the movement. "Hypothetical you."

Okay. So they were having the same conversation.  His heart was suddenly beating so wildly in his chest that he felt like it might explode. Hitoshi had all the time in the world to work out how this conversation was going to go and he hadn't done it, huh? He really didn’t want to mess this up, but he had to be honest, too.

"Well that's… Complicated, I guess." He set his mug on the coffee table just to be safe, "If they were someone I was interested in having a relationship with I'd want to make sure they understood what they were getting into, with my job being what it is." That wasn't actually a concern, Izuku understood what he did better than most spotlight heroes. "I'd also want to make sure that uh… They didn't just feel that way because of my job, or because I'd helped them or something like that." It was a little cruel to say out loud, but it was important, and somewhere along the way Hitoshi had gotten dangerously far away from the land of hypotheticals.

Izuku made a sound that seemed offended, and Hitoshi almost started to take it back, but just as he opened his mouth the shorter man with responded with an expression so fiery it almost looked comical on him.

"But that's just ridiculous! I mean, you being a hero is really cool, don't get me wrong, but you're also someone who cares. Like, actually cares and--"Izuku cut himself off with a sucked in breath.

Oh god. Not offended at him, offended for him. Izuku's mouth clamped shut, face turning a rather brilliant shade of red. Was this the perfect time for Hitoshi to finally say something? Yes, obviously. Still, he threw Izuku a way out, "Hypothetically?"

And if it had been the Izuku he had found scraping by in a tiny apartment, or even the Izuku of a month ago he probably would have nodded and agreed. The Izuku of tonight bit his lip, and then squared his shoulders to face Hitoshi, eyes bright with determination.

"No. Not hypothetically." Izuku maintained eye contact even as he nervously turned the mug in his hands, "I got the advice that it's best to be really clear with what I want so --" He took a deep breath, eyes flicking down to his hands for a moment before looking back up to meet Hitoshi's. Now he really couldn't look away, "I like you. A- a lot. Romantically." He took a shaky breath, "I'd like to date you and be your boyfriend." And then more wavering, "And kiss you, if you'd be alright with that."

Well, holy shit. 

Hitoshi gaped for a moment, his whole body suddenly feeling light and fuzzy. He was probably the one who was red in the face now. Didn't matter. Nut up or shut up, right?

"Yes." He said, his own voice surprisingly rough with emotion, "To all of that --" And hell, if Izuku had been brave enough to say all of that out loud, didn't he deserve to hear it back? "I like you too, romantically. I'd like to be your boyfriend and go on dates with you, and hell if you're alright with it, I'd like to do that last thing right now."

"Please." Breathed Izuku, fast enough to be a dangerous ego boost, leaning forward enough that Hitoshi decided he may as well just finally go for it. He reached out to cup Izuku's face, both of their eyes fluttering shut as Hitoshi leaned forward himself and pressed a gentle kiss to Izuku's lips.

His lips were soft, and tasted like tea, but more important than that was the fact that Izuku was smiling. It made him want to linger more than he already was, and well, if Izuku's hand, still warm from cradling his mug, found its way behind his neck and pulled him closer, he was certainly going to oblige.

There was more to talk about, and so much more to do, but now at least they could enjoy the fact that sometimes, things changed for the better.

Izuku hadn't put a lot of thought into what an actual relationship with Hitoshi would be like. He'd had fantasies, sure, but he'd been fully prepared for real life to not live up to them.

Truth was stranger than fiction, it seemed, because Izuku hadn't exactly expected Hitoshi to be as domestic as he was. He still blushed when he thought about how excited Hitoshi had been to give him a bouquet of flowers. Going on normal dates hadn't even really crossed his mind until Hitoshi had asked him on one, and it was easily the best one that Izuku had ever had.

Apparently Hitoshi had also been holding back on the physical side of things too. What was once the occasional brush of fingers became a full on onslaught and hand holding and cheek kisses and having arms draped around his shoulders while he scrolled through case files -- not that Izuku minded at all.

"You know," he'd said wryly one night, "one of the things we talked about at therapy recently was the possibility of me being touch starved. But I think you might have it worse than me ."

"Hm, you think so?" His boyfriend had teased, one cheek resting on Izuku's shoulder, arms around his waist, "How do you suppose we go about fixing that, then? "

It turned out that they both had the same kind of insecurity over the relationship -- they both thought 'wow, how could someone like that like me?' Izuku thought it was ridiculous. Hitoshi probably thought it was ridiculous, too, but they'd both agreed that it wasn't the worst problem in the world to have, as long as they communicated properly.

And so the weeks stretched into months, the day of Izuku's licensing exam loomed closer, and Izuku continued training for it the happiest he'd ever been. He wasn't without worries, of course. Contact with his mom had dropped to basically nothing, and he worried a lot about how much she must be worrying over him. To say nothing of the gut wrenching anxiety he felt every time he thought about the exam itself.

The day he finally felt like he actually stood a chance at passing was the day he managed to get the drop on Shoto. He was the highest ranked pro that Izuku got the chance to spar against, and figuring out a way to beat him was constantly in the back of his mind. With most everyone else there was something he could do to deal with their quirks, some weakness he could exploit. Shoto had weaknesses, but nothing Izuku could use without preparing in advance -- but sometimes heroes got to prepare in advance and he wanted to give that a shot.

All it really took was turning up the heat. Literally -- Izuku showed up an hour early and cranked up the thermostat in the gym as high as it would go. The air was hot and dry, meaning Shoto couldn't make ice as quickly or large as he normally did, and he couldn't use his fire for too long without overheating and having to back off. Quirks were physical abilities, and people with quirks tended to way over depend on them, even in situations where they were very taxing to use. It was almost scarily easy to exhaust Shoto and bait him into making a mistake. Not many people could say that they'd thrown a (to be fair, very tired and dehydrated) Todoroki Shoto to the ground, but Izuku was now one of them.

The hero had blinked up at him and said, "Next time you figure out a glaring weakness of mine, would you mind sharing it with me?"

If he stood a chance against the number seven, he stood a chance against other people who were trying to be heroes. Probably. Hopefully.

He tried to keep that optimism up, because soon enough it was the week of the exam.

His life would (maybe) change on Wednesday. But as was the pattern in his life, when things happened to him, they tended to happen all at the same time.

As the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.

On Sunday, late in the afternoon, his mom called him for the first time in months. He watched it ring, frozen for several seconds, before tentatively reaching out and answering.

"Um. Hello?" His voice came out higher than he wanted, and he heard the slightest gasp on the end of the line, like she hadn't been expecting him to pick up.

"Oh--" Inko's voice wavered, "Hi Izu. H-How've you been?"

It took a stupid amount of effort to snap himself out of his frozen shock and say, "Good. You?"

Across the room, Hitoshi's head popped up from the behind the sofa, eyes narrowed in question and concern.

"I've been alright…" His mom replied, not sounding very sure of her answer, "I actually ah… I talked to the Bakugos today. You remember a little while ago when we were talking about planning a dinner together?"

Oh god.  His face pulled into a grimace, and his boyfriend started to sit up from his spot a little more urgently. When he didn't answer right away, his mom gave a nervous hum and said, "I- I'm sure you're busy and all, but I wanted to ask if you could come? Mitsuki said Katsuki was going to make time to be there, I'm sure it's been a long time since you've seen each other..." As though his presence would somehow sweeten the deal. He locked eyes with Hitoshi who appeared to be wondering rather seriously if there was an actual threat.

Izuku took a moment to decide whether there was or not. He did not particularly want to see Katsuki, but he wasn't exactly afraid. Truth be told, he hadn't thought of him much at all since the confrontation at the hospital and had kind of been hoping that relationship was over and done with. Apparently not. And while he could, maybe probably should say no, his mom was trying to reach out, and he didn't want to deny her the chance. Though that didn't mean he had to do it alone.

He licked his lips, "I'll see if I can get some time to come, but uh… Would it be okay if I bought a guest?"

"Guest?" Izuku felt like he should be offended at how surprised she sounded, but this was also the first time he'd asked that question since elementary school. Even when he'd had tentative acquaintances, or even significant others he'd never once introduced them to his mom.

"Yeah." He said, "I want you to meet my boyfriend."

Hitoshi, if it were possible, only looked more alarmed. He mouthed What? and Izuku mouthed back Later.

"Oh my, well uh--" Yeah his feelings were at least a little hurt, "I can't imagine Mitsuki will have a problem with it, and I'd certainly like to meet him… I'll let her know to make another plate. That is, if you can both do Wednesday, I mean?"

Sure. Why not, at this point.

"I… Have a thing that day, but if we have dinner a little later, it should be fine?"

"Right. I.. I'll let everyone know. I'm… Looking forward to seeing you again."

It had been a while. His mom maybe hadn't always supported him in the way he'd wanted,but for a long time she felt like the only person who really wanted him around. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"You too."

When he hung up the call and slumped onto the counter, it was to the sound of Hitoshi saying, "What did you just sign us up for?"

"Dinner with my mom and the Bakugos." He said it more to the counter than to his boyfriend, but the man heard. If the affronted sound he made was any indication, he was as much of a fan of the idea as Izuku was. "I'm going.” He continued,  “You don't have to, but…"

"The Bakugos? As in --?" Izuku grunted an affirmative, and then there was a groan and a hand rubbing circles on his back, "I'm going."

On Monday, at four in the morning, right as he was considering finishing up work, he got a text from Hitoshi telling him to close Shithead into his room. Twenty minutes later, his boyfriend arrived at the apartment with a box of mewling kittens and an apologetic smile.

"I'm actually surprised this didn't happen sooner." He said, "Sorry, it's kind of a bad habit of mine."

Izuku let himself get roped into cleaning and feeding them, and while Hitoshi assured him that he had a good relationship with a nearby shelter and could find them homes, he also kept shooting Izuku conspiratorial glances before finally saying, "You could keep one, you know. Just a thought."

He picked the tiny calico and named her Ragdoll, which Hitoshi approved of immensely.

On Tuesday, at three in the afternoon, the agency sent him an urgent case about a missing child. He worked on it for thirteen hours straight until it was solved, falling asleep at his desk once he got confirmation that the kid was okay. He wasn't sure how long he slept for, but when Hitoshi gently shook him awake it was still dark outside.

"Heard about the case," He said with a soft smile, voice barely above a whisper, "Good work. You hungry?"

Izuku was, desperately so, and when he nodded his boyfriend pulled him to the couch, where a spread of what was possibly the most carb-heavy takeout order he'd ever seen in his life waited for him on the coffee table. Izuku ate his fill, nearly falling asleep face first into his noodles more than once. When he finished, he dropped the takeout container back on the coffee table and slumped onto Hitoshi who responded with a surprised grunt.

"How--" He said, wrapping an arm around Izuku and pulling him into a more comfortable position, "Am I supposed to be the big spoon to someone who can probably bench press me?"

Izuku snorted. He'd put on some muscle, sure, but nothing that extreme.

"Get taller."

His boyfriend sighed, "Platform boots it is."

He was content to lay there and drift off, long fingers absently brushing through his hair.

"You nervous?" Hitoshi's chest rumbled beneath him, snapping out of his daze, and Izuku heaved a sigh.

"No, I think I got so nervous that it looped back around and I'm fine." He twisted and propped his chin on Hitoshi's chest so he could see him better, any irritation he had dissolving in the face of the hopelessly fond look he got back, "Yeah, I'm nervous. Of course I am." He let his eyes fall closed again, burying his face in fabric -- actually Hitoshi was still in his hero uniform, so it was pretty uncomfortable --  though he still blushed, just a little, "Are you gonna be watching?"

"I might be. Which answer will freak you out more?"

"So the answer is yes, but you'll tell me no to make me feel better?"

"No comment."

After a long moment of silence, Hitoshi shifted beneath him, "Come on." he said, "you gotta be well rested for later, yeah?"

When Izuku made no move to get up, Hitoshi simply scooped him up into a bridal carry, though not without a grunt of effort.

He was deposited in Hitoshi's bed, which had slowly become more common than not. There came a certain point where Izuku wondered if it was worth buying an expensive mattress after all, because really, if they were going to share the bed so often it would make more sense to turn his room into an office or something, wouldn't it?

In eight hours or so, he'd have the chance to pull himself even closer to the life he'd always dreamed. For now, he'd appreciate the good he already had.

In hindsight, they really should have met Inko before they arrived at the Bakugo's house.

Mitsuki Bakugo was the one to greet them at the door, meeting Izuku with an enthusiastic hug and Hitoshi with narrowed eyes and a "Are you the boyfriend?"

From somewhere inside came a choked "Boyfriend? The fuck ?" which meant that Katsuki had beaten them there. Hitoshi's mouth thinned to a line but he offered his hand and said, "That's me. Hitoshi Shinso."

"Oh." Mitsuki said, "You're Eyebags." She shook his hand in what Izuku suspected was a crushing grip, "Nice to finally meet you."

Izuku suppressed a wince. This was probably going to be one long shovel talk for Hitoshi, now that he thought about it. He probably won some bonus points by holding her gaze, though.

When they entered the kitchen, they were met by three sets of eyes. Masaru gave them a gentle smile and wave before turning back to whatever he was cooking. Katsuki eyes flicked back and forth between Izuku and Hitoshi, and Izuku almost could have laughed at the confusion that bloomed across his face. He was still calculating for the moment, giving them a precious minute where he wasn't yelling and cursing up a storm.

The other pair of eyes were Inko's, and they were wide and fixed on Izuku. He stared back, not really sure what he should be feeling.

Inko burst into tears.

To be fair, Izuku should have been expecting it. He certainly should have warned Hitoshi about it, because he turned to look at Izuku, very lost.

"Ah I'll… Talk to her." He said softly. Hitoshi nodded, while the whole scene was barely acknowledged by the Bakugos simply because they were so used to it. He gently took his mother by the hand and led her to the back porch, trying his hardest to make sure he didn't start crying himself.

He'd had expectations for how this would go --  she would cry, hug him, maybe try and convince him that what he wanted was too dangerous. She did the first two, though not for as long as Izuku thought she might, and when she pulled away she reached up to cup his face with one hand, eyes searching his.  Unsure what to do, he stared back, and so was privy to the exact moment her expression clarified and pulled into a mournful smile.

No, he'd had a lot of thoughts for how this was going to go, but his mom saying "Izu, I'm so sorry." was not one of them.

"For-- For what?" He asked, throat suddenly tight. Inko sniffed and wiped at her eyes again.

"I… I always knew what you wanted. Really wanted. I just-- I was always so worried that you would get hurt but then… You were hurting and I--" Another wave of tears trailed down her cheeks but Inko paid them no mind, "You're right, you look the happiest you've ever been a-and I'm your mother, so I’m going to worry about you no matter what so…" Her voice wavered, and she visibly swallowed, "So if I'm going to worry after you anyways, you should at least be happy. I'm glad that you are. Izu I -- I'm so proud of you."

At that, Izuku couldn't stop himself from bursting into tears, pulling his mom into a tight hug that felt long overdue.

He didn't mind it so much when she said she was sorry, this time.

By the time they pulled apart, the night air had cooled to something actually uncomfortable and they both shivered as they stepped inside. Hitoshi and Katsuki appeared to be having a competition for who could send the other the meanest glare, while Mitsuki was dutifully ignoring the tension. She smiled sharply as the two came back into the room.

"Just in time, dinner is served!"

Usually at these events Izuku was forced to sit next to Katsuki. He didn’t bother to hide his sigh of relief when Hitoshi very pointedly took the spot between them.

Rice and curry were spooned into bowls and Izuku could smell the spice from across the table.

…He'd forgotten to warn Hitoshi about that, too. He really owed his boyfriend big time.

There was a long moment where the only sound was the clink of dishes, but before too long, apparently unable to take the silence, Mistuki burst forth with- "Inko tells me you got a new job. What-cha been up to, Izu?"

Izuku's smile was only small because of nerves. He was actually stupidly, amazingly proud of what he was doing, especially now.

"Well, I was doing analysis for a bit there. I'll probably keep doing it on the side, but as of today --" He reached for the pocket where a thin piece of plastic had been sitting heavily for a few hours now and pulled it out to show everyone.

A provisional license, issued to the new pro hero Deku. It still didn't feel real, and he was looking at it, holding it in his hands. There was a part of him that was  actually quite anxious that it had been a mistake, because the test had felt far too easy. There were so few adult applicants that there wasn't a portion where the applicants had to be narrowed down; there was simply a written exam (which despite his worry Izuku felt confident he'd done okay on) and a combined test for rescue and villain apprehension. For all he'd trained, Izuku hadn't even had to really fight. He'd surprised one faux villain and captured them before there could be one, but he'd spent most of the rest of the time directing others on how best to use their quirks for rescue.

Apparently that showed 'good leadership abilities.'  Who knew.

The first reaction was a wordless noise of surprise from his mother, then Mitsuki leaned forward to clap him on the shoulder - prompting a suppressed jump from Hitoshi who seemed like he was very much on edge.

"Congrats kid, I knew you could do it!" Well that certainly wasn't true, but Izuku bit his tongue and nodded his thanks. Inko and Masaru’s congratulations followed a moment later, while Katsuki just frowned. He actually didn't look any angrier than usual, much to Izuku's surprise. He just glanced at the license and back down to his food, jaw tight. Izuku was more than fine to leave it at that, but Mitsuki evidently was not and turned to dig a pointed elbow into her son's side.

"Come on, don't be a damn grouch. This is the shit you've wanted since you were kids!"

Katsuki grumbled something that sounded like hag, but his shoulders slumped. He didn't look up from his curry, so Katsuki didn't see the way both Izuku and Hitoshi's eyebrows shot up when he mumbled, "You were better than most of the other halfwits taking the exam, I guess. Still shit, though."

Izuku stared at his lowered head with wide eyes. Not only was that dangerously close to a compliment, but…

"Were you watching the exam?" Hitoshi jumped in before Izuku could, "I didn't see you there."

Katsuki's head snapped up, his usual rage flaring back up, "So what if I was, huh? It's normal to go to those things and try to recruit new sidekicks."

It most certainly was not. Most of the people who took the exam Izuku had just taken already had agencies lined up. Hitoshi knew that too, and Izuku reached under the table to squeeze his hand to try make sure he wouldn't say so, because doing so would most certainly start a fight. Hitoshi's expression was one of barley concealed amusement, but he squeezed Izuku's hand back and simply said, "If you say so." 

Katsuki scowled and looked between the two of them for a long moment, before finally raising a hand to point right at Izuku, eyes intense with some unreadable emotion. Izuku’s breath caught in his throat despite himself.

"I don't get to rub how much better I am than you in your face if you go dying on me. So don't."

That was probably as close to acceptance from him as Izuku was ever going to get. He could take that.

"I don't plan on it."

And it was honestly more true than it had been for a long time.

Provisional heroes didn't get hero net email addresses if they were still in school, but those that worked directly under agencies did. There were a few days of delay, but when he got the notification that his was ready, Izuku smiled and copied a message he'd already had waiting.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] […and 36 others]

Subject: New Contact

It's been a while since I've messaged most of you, but this time it's with good news.

I'm doing this in an official capacity now, if you get an email from [email protected], that's me. Feel free to get in contact if you need any help!