Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izuku hissed a string of curses while injecting himself with another needle. He didn’t feel pain; he just felt himself floating on a thin line of relief and nothing. It was kind of pathetic sitting in an alley beneath the neon lights of some shitty drugstore. But Izuku didn’t care at all; he just wanted some rest.

Rest from this shitty world.

Rest from his pathetic self.

He closed his eyes as he felt the liquid enter his system. Slowly, the reality blurred, and the boy could finally breathe.

It was fine. Everything was okay.

This wasn’t self-harm. This was the prevention of the self-harm he might inflict on himself.

He needed this.

With a deep sigh, Izuku forced himself to stand up. The boy leaned heavily against the wall and tried to pretend like his vision wasn’t blurred. “Fuck,” he breathed out, “I may have taken too much.” The green-haired boy let out a crazed laugh as his eyes had trouble focusing.

Izuku started to walk slowly. Struggling to find some sense of balance in his body while still leaning against the wall.

What a shitty way to live.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Really funny, y’know,” Izuku rolled his eyes with an annoyed expression. He already had his standard safety glasses and white coat, while the boy put on a pair of gloves. “Like I’m allowed to die.”

The man, Shun, shrugged. “You never know.”

They were standing in a lab full of needles, notebooks, and all sorts of liquids. The whole lab had a really simple design. Nothing too fancy. White walls that sucked the life from your soul. Izuku wanted nothing more than to flee from this place and burn it to the ground. Not only was this depressing, but also boring.

His partner, Shun, was usually very quiet and only made some comments. Mainly about how miserable Izuku looked. He was right, but the boy could only glare.

His hair was a mess. His pale skin, mainly from the lack of sun and vitamins, made him look sick. Not only that, but the dark circles under his eyes made him look like he hadn’t slept for ages.

“There is a corpse that you need to cut today. Wait another day, and it won’t be in a good state anymore,” shimmied Shun in his ear.

Izuku skimmed through some reports and glanced at the door.

If only he could leave.

The boy could only leave after doing nine hours of work in the lab. Shun only needed to work six.

“I’m going to do something stupid.”

Izuku already knew that there were guards outside the door, but that didn’t stop him. Izuku dropped the reports at the table and opened the door with his pass that hung around his neck. Shun glanced curiously.

Like he expected, two guards stood by the door. Izuku put his trembling hands in his pockets and took a step outside the room into the hallway. That’s one step. The boy took another, but felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“You still have 8 hours and 32 minutes to go.”

Izuku bit his inner cheek nervously, “I need to use the restroom.”

The guards shared a look. “Yes, the bathroom is that way,” one of them pointed to the other side of the hallway with a dead end. Izuku laughed nervously and brushed the firm hand off his shoulder. “Gentlemen, I didn’t want to say this out loud. But Shun had already used it and- Let’s say it smells.”

The two guards looked unimpressed.

Izuku knew that he was fucked.

With his last bit of strength, the boy made a run. The two guards didn’t give him a second before they started to run too.

Izuku ran through the hallway with a speed he didn’t know he possessed and opened the door with his card. When the door opened, Izuku jumped through it. He kicked the card swiper, and it made a loud ‘beep’ sound. The guards tried to open the entry, but couldn’t.

Izuku stared wide-eyed at the sight before him.

He took a sluggish, steady breath and started to walk through another hallway. They were in an underground base. Sector 32, to be precise. Good thing Izuku memorized this whole sector. He carefully traveled through his sector to Base 3.

It was only a matter of time before he would be thrown into the lab again. He probably would get some extra hours as a punishment.

Oh, well.

There was another door. Izuku opened it without problem and poked his head through it. There were many people; some faces were covered with masks. They mostly wore black, a huge contrast to what Izuku was wearing. The boy kept his head low as he walked through the mass of people.

Base 2 wasn’t anything fancy. Their underground sectors and bases were built like an ant nest. Tunnels that sometimes made no sense and had confusing turns. There were 5 bases in total, but only 3 bases were mainly used. Izuku didn’t know exactly how many sectors there were, but he knew Sector 32 by heart.

Izuku made sure to keep walking and make no eye contact.

He got so high yesterday that he blacked out three times.

Izuku still felt foggy. The boy used his energy not to tumble.

Then, he bumped into someone. The boy looked up and met yellow eyes. Something about them made Izuku’s hair stand up. They weren’t exactly natural. But so was this place. This whole place shouldn’t exist, but it does.

Izuku looked at the man up and down with curious eyes. He had never seen the man before. Many people in this business come and go, so it’s only natural. He was blond with a charming smile. The man had gorgeous, large wings. They were red, a sharp colour. He was dressed in black and had combat boots on.

“I apologize.”

The man smiled, a weird thing to do in this place, unless you are stabbing someone. “Please, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Izuku shrugged and turned to walk away, but the man grabbed his wrist softly. “Sorry, I’m just new here and kinda lost. You seem to know your way around here.”

The boy frowned at that. He was clearly new, because nobody did things here like this. You don’t simply say that you’re new. That’s a dead giveaway. That man clearly didn’t know his way around. So Izuku can lure him into a trap and then kill him off guard.

When Izuku didn’t respond, the stranger just continued smiling. “My name is Viperfang. You look like a person who would give me a helping hand.”

Did he really? Izuku found himself looking more like a walking corpse.

“Name’s Izuku.”

Viperfang frowned in confusion, “That doesn’t really sound like a codename. I thought we weren’t allowed to use our real names here.” The boy only shrugged as he glanced around, searching for guards who would drag his ass back to the lab. “Rules don’t really apply to me that much.”

“What?” The winged seemed a bit lost, “Why?”

Izuku threw a hardened look at him.

Because he was stuck here.

He couldn’t leave, hadn’t the privilege to. In reality, the green-haired didn’t know how long he had been stuck here. His first days in Base 2 were horrible and turned into weeks quickly.

Weeks became months, and months blurred into years.

Izuku moved from one base to another. The same goes for sectors.

The boy spent here in this shitty underground nearly his whole life. Why should he need a codename?

He wasn’t leaving this place any time soon.

What he had were three hours of freedom. Every Sunday, Izuku could wish to go wherever he wanted for three precious hours. On one condition. He would be pumped with drugs.

It was no secret that Izuku was an addict.

It was more of a power thing. They pumped him with drugs so that the boy would come back to them without any issues. And Izuku wasn’t strong enough to protest.

Viperfang saw that he wouldn’t answer the question and shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“You’re in Base 3 right now. There are two other bases: Base 1 and Base 2. You probably need to be mainly in Base 2 if there are any meetings. There are too many sectors to explain, so don’t get lost. The orientation here is tricky,” explained Izuku in a monotone voice.

The man nodded. Taking the information greedily. “So there are three bases in total?”

“No. There are two other bases, but you need to have private access. Don’t go there.”

The man’s eyes widen, “How big is this place exactly?”

Izuku shrugged with a tired look on his face. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

The man nodded slowly and opened his mouth to ask another useless question, but Izuku felt himself being pushed to the ground. A guard held his wrist tightly while another guard was talking on his comm, “Yeah, he was here in Base 3.”

Viperfang looked like he might jump on the guards, but held himself in. Instead, he asked in an impatient voice what exactly was happening, but the guards ignored him.

Izuku gritted his teeth, debating if he needed to bite someone.

He was violently hauled up to his feet and led to the lab again.

The boy’s head spun too much to see the stranger’s face again.

The guards threw Izuku violently into the lab. He fell on the ground and took a sharp breath. “Pull a stunt like that again, and I will personally slaughter you,” spat the guard angrily, “We needed to fix the doors because of you.”

After that, the guard closed the door and left Izuku on the ground.

“Was your fifteen-minute trip worth it?”

The boy glanced at Shun, who was mixing potions with a concentrated face. Izuku only groaned in response. He expected to be caught again so fast, but it was still annoying.

The boy tried to escape multiple times, but where would he go? He didn’t have any money on him. Izuku barely understood what was happening in the outside world.

He spends every week- and only if he ‘behaves’ well- three hours in the outside world. Izuku would be drugged and thrown in a random alley with another needle.

It was a sick tactic to keep him at bay. But it worked.

He wasn’t strong enough to restrain himself from drugging himself. Most of the time, he just lay there drugged out of his mind. Izuku tried so many times to say no to the drug, but it felt just too good.

He would sit there and look at the blue sky. Breathe the fresh or not-so-fresh air. Feel the wind in his wind, and that was enough for his sanity.

“Izuku. Start working.”

The boy was still lying on the ground. Letting his warm body feel the cold concrete. It felt nice.

The things he would do just to lie on the grass and watch the sky.

Grass. Izuku knew what it was and how it looked. But how did grass exactly? When the boy read novels, they described it as something soft. Was it so comfortable that many people would lie on it?

“Izuku. I swear, you already lost your lunch privileges. Don’t lose your dinner. You’re already skinny.”

Food. Right.

He already lost his dinner with his stunt. Maybe if he worked really hard, would be useful, they would grand him dinner. Shun was right. He needed to get up.

But his body wasn’t working with him.

Izuku felt all the energy drain from him.

He was suffocating in this lab.

“I heard you like to make the guard's job harder than it already is.”

“Yes, because standing in one place and making it look like you’re focused is so hard,” bit Izuku with a snark.

“Don’t be such a brat.”

Izuku bit his tongue before he blurted something unfiltered. He wanted to be in bed. Not in this room, where it smelled of cigars and cheap alcohol. The man before him was lying lazily on the couch with a cigar. “Do you want one?”

Before the green-haired boy could answer the question, the man stood up and gave him one anyway. Izuku bit his inner cheek nervously, a habit that he had.

“Thank you.”

The man lit it up.

Izuku took a drag, then another- And then again another. Slowly, the boy felt like his mind started to relax. He knew this was another way to control him, a sick game.

“You can fight.”

It wasn’t a question. The man already knew the answer, so why question it at all? Izuku just nodded while taking in the whole sensation of the cigar. The boy would train every day until his body was black and blue. You could barely call that training; his teachers had a field day just using him like a personal punching bag. But he survived and learned how to dodge.

Izuku shivered.

He wasn’t that stupid crying boy anymore. No, he had a respectable name now. A mad scientist. But he was still a prisoner.

Maybe he had more privileges, but at this point, what even mattered in this life?

“What do you know of the League of Villains?”

Izuku stilled. Was this a trick question? The man knew that the boy had no way to look at the news outside this underground base. But, he heard some rumors. Information was priceless after all.

“Nothing. It sounds like some shitty video game.”

“Do you even know what a video game is?” the man sounded amused. Like, Izuku blurted something funny.

“I’ve read about it.”

The man hummed and took a drag; the room was filled with smoke. Izuku took a drag too. “I want you to work with them.”

At that, Izuku nearly collapsed.

“Do you want to get rid of me?”

The man only smirked, “Not at all.”

Izuku was dressed in blue, baggy jeans with a black, oversized hoodie. He had sunglasses on, which should help with the bright sun. The boy winced when they were navigating around the crowded market.

Everything was too loud.

His senses weren’t made for such crowds. Children are screaming and playing with each other. Mothers smile while gently scolding their children. Vendors scream loudly, reclaiming their products with booming voices. Everyone was going somewhere, bumping into each other while navigating around here. Izuku felt like he was suffocating all over again.

There was too much colour.

Izuku found somewhat comfort in his white, lifeless halls. It made him focus on his work. It made it easier to clean blood from the walls, because you could see well where it was messy. His eyes hurt.

For the first time in a long time, Izuku was glad. He was glad to have one in his life; he was with a guard.

The guard wore casual clothes just to blend in. But Izuku knew better. The guard had a knife in his right boot and a dagger hidden by his belt.

Izuku licked his dry lips and hid his hands in his pockets. It was his first time being in such a crowd outside the underground bases.

“Relax,” muttered the boy to himself.

The guard stopped walking, and Izuku bumped right into him. The green-haired boy looked in the same direction as the guard and paled.

Heroes.

Or at least they looked like heroes. Flasy outfits and overconfidence? Yeah, that sounded right. Izuku never saw heroes in real life and couldn’t stop staring at them. So, they protected the public?

They were casually going around, smiling and asking everyone to show their documents. What exactly was going on? Was this a trap? Did the heroes expect them there? Izuku felt his heart beating so fast that it wouldn’t be a surprise if he collapsed right here and now.

The guard grabbed his wrist tightly. With careful steps, the guard started to walk in the opposite direction from the market. Izuku frowned. They needed to meet someone at the heart of the market. Just have a conversation, less than ten sentences, and dip.

Izuku heard that the heroes are patrolling the alleys ruthlessly. So that wasn’t an option. Bringing the League of Villains to Base 3 could be an option, but they refused. That was okay, Izuku supposed. He wouldn’t want to go if he were in their place.

So, a public meeting then.

The guard’s grip was bruised, and Izuku hissed in pain.

The heroes saw that something was wrong with them and started to walk towards them. Izuku threw a glance at them, and the guard grabbed his wrist tighter, “Don’t look back, you stupid dumbass.”

Izuku threw a sharp, angry glare at the guard. But still obeyed. The last thing that he wanted was to get caught. They were navigating quickly around the market, and the heroes seemed to find what they were looking for. The guard cursed under his breath.

“Brat, let’s split up. Lose these dumb heroes, will ya? I have your location, so I will find you after this.”

Izuku turned now really pale. It was already a whole experience being here in such a crowded place, let alone now being on his own. “No-,” muttered Izuku. But the guard already let go of his wrist and went to the other side. The heroes seemed to take the bait and follow him. Izuku took a steady breath and kept walking, keeping his head low and muttering apologies when he bumped into someone.

He walked slowly, but steadily. With every step, his heart sped up.

He wanted to go back.

Back to the underground. It was maybe depressing as fuck, but he knew his way around there. Why shouldn’t he? He grew up there.

Izuku bumped into someone and muttered softly: “Sorry”.

“Oh. You look really pale. Are you okay?”

Izuku looked up at the woman. She was smiling and looking worried at the same time. Her voice was soft, but steady. She was only a bit older than he, but looked so lively. Her hair was white and looked so soft. She held grocery bags in her hands filled with vegetables and fruit.

But was he okay? Izuku wanted just one hit, then he would be okay.

He needed something in his system, and fast.

“Yes, I am,” muttered Izuku. Shit, he was supposed to get away. Not attract attention to himself. Did he fucked everything up? The boy took a step aside to move, but the woman did the same thing.

“Listen,” she started again, “You look somewhat sick. Do you need a doctor?”

Izuku just stared at her with wide, hollow eyes. He was thankful that she couldn’t see his eyes because of the sunglasses. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Are you maybe scared of another villain attack?” she hummed thoughtfully, “I guess the previous villain attack spooked everyone a bit. But don’t worry! My father is a hero and is doing his best to protect everyone. Oh! And my brother is graduating soon too; he would be the best hero.”

Izuku nodded slowly. She truly believed in her family. But what was she talking exactly about? Villain attack? The boy hadn’t heard anything about it in his Base.

Then, she grabbed a red apple out of her grocery bag and gave it to him with a kind face. “Here, please, take it. It’s still really fresh.”

Izuku wished that she would give him a cigar or another needle. Slowly, like a cautious animal, he grabbed the apple from her. “Thank you.” The woman did nothing but offer a genuine smile. “Take care of yourself.”

Izuku nodded yet again. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Slowly, he started to walk away. The apple was tightly in his hands.

Not even ten minutes later, his guard came back for him. He was sweaty and looked tired. Like, someone was chasing him. And Izuku had a good idea who. The meeting was cancelled, and a party was sent to investigate what and who the heroes expected.

“Experiment number 93. There we go,” Izuku yawned while his eyes started to go blurry.

He gently grabbed a mouse with his gloves and shushed it. It wasn’t exactly distressed, just somewhat confused. But it sure wasn’t spooked by humans at all. They were bred only for one purpose: experiment dummies.

He grabbed a syringe and injected it into the mouse. At first, nothing happened. Izuku rolled his eyes and grabbed his notebook, ready to write that the experiment failed. But it let out a little shriek, and the boy jumped to his feet.

“What the-,” started the green-haired. But the mouse began to go feral. Biting the cage and running in all directions. “What’s up with you, little guy?” The mouse kept making loud noises and running disoriented.

“Kill it. It makes me lose my concentration!” shouted Shun at the other side of the lab, annoyed. Izuku only made a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth and kept staring at the mouse.

It looked like he had more work to do than expected.

The second time Izuku saw Viperfang was in Base 1.  

Base 1 was nothing like the other two bases. It was messy, and a lot of rules didn’t apply here. Not that anyone tried to make rules for this place. Base 1 was like a rest zone for a lot of people here. You could do drugs, drink, and smoke. But the most important thing was the fights.

There was a ring in the centre where everyone could test their fighting skills. It was more of a show-off, in Izuku his opinion. There were more than enough sectors to practice your fighting skills. Around the ring were stands where the people always stood and bet on the fighters.

In other words, it stank. You could smell the alcohol, sweat, and blood.

Not that it bothered Izuku so much, as long as he could get high or wasted.

Base 1 was simply for brawls, while Base 3 was for brains.  

Viperfang saw Izuku first and waved at the boy. Izuku simply threw him a confused stare before making his way to him. The winged seemed to be uncomfortable in Base 1. He was standing not so far off the ring, and the boy pushed some people aside to stand beside him.  

“Yo,” the man greeted him with a smile. His eyes were focused on everything at the same time. It looked like he was paranoid. Why? Was this the first time that he visited Base 1? Izuku had a free day, Sunday. The week passed all too fast, and the only thing he knew was that he was allowed to get high.                      

Normally, he had his outside privileges. But his boss found it too dangerous. He was worried that the heroes had seen his face.        

Viperfang’s wings were tightly wrapped around himself. It looked like the man had trouble being in such cramped places.  

“Hey.”

The man stared at him with- worry? Izuku couldn’t really tell. Not that he cared that much.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked in a light manner. But something in his eyes screamed like there was something wrong.

“Getting high.”

Viperfang stared at him with wide eyes. Like he couldn’t believe him. Like he was debating whether this was a joke or not.

“What?”

Izuku didn’t care what that man thought of him.

The boy looked at the ring and saw a man fighting with a woman.

Her fighting style wasn’t about strength, but about speed. She was like a fairy. Dancing and moving fast on her feet. Never staying in one place too long. She is getting slower, Izuku hummed in his head. The woman was using too much energy in dodging and wasn’t attacking. The man at the other side had brute strength and was attacking. They both danced in a steady rhythm. Making sure not to get hit and end this fight as fast as possible.

They were doing hand-to-hand combat, making no use of their quirks.

Just as the woman ducked and left the man exposed, ready to hit-

The man seemed to predict that. He was ready to grab her fist and twist her whole arm. But in one blink, the woman teleported to the other side and punched the guy in his jaw. He fell over, losing his balance, and she delivered a final kick.

People all over started to cheer and laugh.

Izuku raised his eyebrow. This was nothing special here. Every Sunday, he would be in Base 1, and it was always the same. People would want some ego boost and get in that ring, losing their teeth in the process. But who was Izuku to judge?

The boy started to walk towards the bar at the end of the Base. Viperfang started following him quickly.

“Izuku, wait!”

But the boy didn’t care. Why was that man so keen on following him? Izuku could slip into the crowd easily because of his skinny form. Viperfang, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. The man bumped into everyone and muttered curses under his breath. Izuku heard his name being called again and stopped, annoyed.

He turned around and met the winged man.

“What do you fucking want?”

Viperfang stilled. Not expecting such a harsh tone. He seemed to be at a loss for words. “It just- The last time I saw you, you were being dragged out by these guards. Why? I thought you did something... Well-”

“Why do you care so much?”

The winged one paused at that. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by an alarm. Izuku winced because of how loud it was. Viperfang’s mouth fell to the ground and paled.

Then there was chaos. People screamed and ran like an uncoordinated bunch of chickens. The guards screamed commands, and some villains started to put their masks on, grinning like they had been waiting for this moment. The dealers and smugglers paled and started to run in all directions.

Izuku covered his ears from how loud everything and everyone was.

But he knew exactly what to do.

He needed to return to Sector 32.

With a burst of energy, Izuku ran. He didn’t care who he bumped or who was screaming at him. Izuku needed to at least save his notebooks with all his research in them. All his hard work would go to waste.

Or worse, somebody could steal it.

His boss would give him the beating of his life.

The boy was in Sector 29, just a little bit, and he was in his own sector. He was running through the white hallway.

Izuku then felt someone grab the back of his hoodie and pull it back.

The boy let out a silent scream in surprise while he fell on the ground. Izuku tried to get up, not even a second later. But he was pinned to the ground.

Green eyes met yellow.

Viperfang looked pained, but also decided. He held the boy by his shoulders. Izuku felt panic taking over him, but he forced himself to stay calm. The green-haired boy grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it with a practiced ease. Then, he got up and ran.

Not even ten steps further, and he felt a blow to his head.

“Fucker,” slurred Izuku out slowly, before his whole vision went black.

Izuku woke up gasping for air.

He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown at him. The boy wasted no time in sitting up. He winced at how much his head hurt. “Fucking hell, man.” He was sitting on a really soft bed. Izuku was in a spacious room with more beds all lined up. His head was bandaged tightly. The boy rubbed his head softly. He hadn’t had his hoodie and jeans on, but linen pants and a white shirt.

What happened?

Where was he?

Izuku’s eyes were fixed on the windows in the room.

There were no windows in the underground.

The boy stood up and muttered a string of curses. His eyes were fixed on the windows, and only on the windows. He could see the blue sky and some flats. The sky today was bluer than normal.

Breathing was hard, and focusing was even harder.

This was the first time in his life that he was outside without any guards and not drugged.

Izuku took a few steps towards the window. He was in awe of the view. Afraid that if he looked away, the sky might disappear. It was a silly thought. Was he dreaming? Izuku pinched himself and felt pain.

So he wasn’t dreaming after all.

Was this a trick? A test to prove his loyalty?

Izuku took a deep breath to steady himself. This air felt fresh. Nothing like the humid, suffocating underground air. The boy needed to move.

Run.

Do at least something.

Then, the boy heard the door handle move and-

It was Viperfang.

This time, he wasn’t wearing his plain, black clothes. But he was dressed nicely with a jacket and yellow glasses- That served as some kind of mask?

Izuku tensed up. Memories came flooding back. They were in Base 1 when all of this happened. Viperfang knocked him out cold. Why? Would he torture Izuku to give him information? What was happening?

Izuku wanted to kill himself. He unintelligently helped the enemy.

Sold some important information to him.

How could he be so damn stupid? Izuku wanted to do nothing more than curl in a ball, take a hit of a fresh cigar, and cry.

Of course, he couldn’t do that.

“Fuck off! Take another step and I will fuck you up!”

Viperfang only raised his arms slowly and gave the boy a smile. “I’m not here to hurt you, Izuku. I want to help you.”

“Don’t use my fucking name!” Izuku scammed the room and realised there was no other escape than the window. The very window he was so close to. The problem was that if he jumped from it, he might die. He learned parkour as a child, but Izuku wasn’t so sure that it would save him here.

“Okay,” nodded Viperfang, “I understand. My apologies.”

Izuku debated jumping on him and taking the man by surprise.

“My name is Hawks.”

Izuku blinked really slowly at that. That wasn’t the reaction that the man expected, as he only gave him a tired smile. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re safe. Just know that.”

“No, you listen to me. I don’t care what your name is. Answer my question first, where am I?

Before Hawks could even answer, the door opened again.

A police officer came inside.

Izuku felt like he might faint. He didn’t like this one bit. Not only did he miss his usual Sunday dose, but he was also captured and surrounded by these weird people. The boy might go insane.

“Hello, good to see you awake. My name is Tosuro. I’m here to help you out.” The police’s voice was calm, but steady. “I’m going to ask some questions, sit.”

Izuku scammed Tosuro and Hawks intensely. The boy was torn between screaming and throwing things, or just crying. He was never trained for these kinds of things.

He was never even supposed to leave the underground in the first place.

Izuku took a seat on his bed slowly. Hawks lit up like a puppy and sat at another bed. The police officer sat next to the winged one.

“So, first things first,” started the officer, “What’s your name?”

Izuku threw a glare at Hawks, “He already knows my name and told you too. So, why should I introduce myself?”

“Well, we only know your first name. What’s your family name?”

Izuku gave them a long, hollow look. “I don’t know.”

Hawks seemed at a loss for words. “What?”

The officer seemed to write something on the paper: “You simply don’t know?”

“No.”

“Well, how old are you?”

Izuku glanced at the blue sky and wondered how much he could - was allowed - to reveal. They seemed to be pretty kind and harmless. But would they stay like this if Izuku refused to answer the questions?

“I’m eighteen.”

That shocked both of them. Hawks seemed to choke and only stare at him in horror. Only Tosuro could hide his surprise, but he kept staring at Izuku like he had grown a third head.

“Are you sure?”

Izuku didn’t understand why they were all so shocked. Of course, he was sure. He turned eighteen not so long ago.

Not that he really celebrated.

But he was gifted a pack of strawberries and an “eat up” from Shun. It was a sweet thing to do.

“Yes.”

“Kid. I will be honest, I thought you were fifteen or something. You don’t look eighteen at all.”

Izuku knew that he was somewhat shorter than all the other eighteen-year-olds. Consuming drugs and cigars did nothing good for him. He grew up with extremely limited sunlight. The food underground wasn’t the best; it lacked the vitamins he needed when he was just a little kid.

“What were you doing there with all these villains?”

Izuku stilled. The way this officer says ‘you’ and ‘these villains’. He thought that Izuku was the victim here. But was he? What made the boy so different from them all?

“I’m not telling you shit.”

“Listen, I get it that you’re scared. But you’re safe here. I promise you that.”

Izuku nearly laughed at that. Was he? The green-haired boy was never safe, wherever he went. When Izuku didn’t respond, the officer scribbled something down quickly.

“What’s your quirk?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Do you have any family left?”

“My father.”

“What about your mother?”

Izuku gently shook his head.

“Where is your father? Do you know that?”

Izuku bit his tongue, hard. He knew exactly where his father was. Down in Base 5. The boy hadn’t seen his father for two weeks, to be precise. His father was a busy man, and that was fine. His father loved and adored him. Izuku knew that by heart. He helped the boy become a better person. Without his father, Izuku was nothing.

When the officer understood that Izuku wouldn’t answer, he sighed tiredly.

“The best thing we can do is look to see if you’re still in the system. You’re probably somewhere there. But we also need some more information about what was going on down there.”

“Then you can suck my-”

Hawks snorted at that and cut Izuku off before he could finish his sentence, “I need to talk with you alone.”

Tosuro threw a questioning look at that, but Hawks waved him off.

“Relax, everything is fine. You should go and get some coffee, my friend,” smiled the man before pushing Tosuro out of the door with ease.

After he closed it, Hawks threw a sharp look at Izuku.

The green-haired boy stiffened at that, but held his head high, “What do you want from me?”

Hawks' smile dropped, and he leaned against the door, “Relax.”

In reality, Izuku was terrified. He would rather cut some poor body open than sit here and answer these stupid questions. Did he share something that he shouldn’t?

Everything would be fine. It wasn’t like he was in any system, right? His father would have taken care of everything.

Something about Hawks' eyes felt uncanny. His stare made Izuku uncomfortable, and the silence that was being dragged made the boy want to scream.

“Izuku,” their eyes met, “Listen to me very carefully. Don’t be so difficult and answer the questions. Do you understand me? Let that officer believe who the real victim here is, and you are one in reality. You’re just a kid. You didn’t choose this life.”

“Fuck off. I’m neither a kid nor some pitiful victim. Do you hear me? I have a blast every day there. I don’t need you or your shitty advice.”

“You know nothing,” muttered Hawks with sorrow in his eyes, “Do you hear me? You know nothing! Don’t be so difficult and follow my lead here. I know what you did there underground. I heard some pretty crazy stories about you, Izuku.”

Izuku clenched his jaw shut at that.

Shit.

“But they don’t know that. Only I know the truth here. Now, you need to make the whole Hero Commission believe that you are just a lost, confused victim in this story. Trust me, they are monsters when it comes to interrogation.”

Izuku shivered at that.

He heard some messed-up stories.

The boy tried to focus on something else.

“I heard you grew up there. Makes sense, in a way. But that means you know your way around there. Knows some important people, and you can surely remember what they look like. You are a walking trophy for the Hero Commission. So, Izuku, just do what I say.”

When Hawks was done with his talk, there was nothing Izuku could say. Because that was the truth.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because that’s what heroes do.”

“Aren’t you scared of me betraying you?”

“A hero should save everyone. And, besides, you aren’t a bad person.” Izuku opened his mouth to argue, but Hawks started to speak again. “I told them that you were kept in a tiny cell. Most of the time, you were drugged or asleep and didn’t know much. You didn’t see any faces and didn’t hear anything. You’re a victim. Understood?”

“You want them to see me as a victim. Funny… I knew the screams that nobody ever wanted anyone to hear, the blood that no one would ever clean up. These people you’re talking about that were kept in tiny cells and drugged? They were my experiment subjects. I’m not one of them.”

“You know what I did there. So, why defend me? Don’t give me that hero complex bullshit.”

Hawks eyes softened. “They would lock you up for the rest of your life.”

“So what? I deserve it.”

“No one ever gave you a choice to begin with.”

Tosuro and his team were running tests on him. They said it was a standard protocol. Were there more situations like Izuku’s? The boy narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to know what officer Tosuro was.

They were little tests, nothing too serious. He was sitting on a chair and forced himself to breathe. Izuku was alone in a room with two men who were only a bit older than him. Hawks and Tosuro had gone to talk with each other.

It looked like Hawks was on his side, but was he really? Would he sell Izuku for some promotion? His head was spinning, but he didn’t dare to move an inch of his body. His back was perfectly straight and chin high.

If these guys were anything like in the underground, they would slap him if he was slumping.

“Can you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, please? It's just to check if everything’s fine with your throat.” The man smiled kindly, already holding a little flashlight in his hands as he crouched to get a good look. The other one was scribbling some notes while humming softly.

The boy couldn’t help but look at his scars on his arms. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. Everyone had scars in the underground, and it was completely normal to have them, right?

These kept repeating the whole time that he was ‘safe’ here and had nothing to fear. They treated him like an abused animal.

Izuku opened his mouth while looking up at the white, bright light.

Everything was fine.

The green-haired boy forced himself to breathe through his nose.

He kept staring at the bright light. Izuku closed his eyes and pretended he was back, doing his weekly check-ups with the doctors there.

It was a standard protocol before they could give his weekly dose.

“And done!”

Izuku allowed himself to open his eyes and glance at the window. It was strange  seeing the sky hang low and unfamiliar, and Izuku couldn’t look away.

“Can you now look at this little light?” the man smiled kindly, “We need to see if your pupils work fine.”

Izuku groaned and hid his face in his hands.

He wanted to go home.

Even if that meant crawling back into the darkness.

Tosuro couldn’t find Izuku’s past. Which wasn’t so surprising, considering his father made sure of it. The boy tried not to smile when the officer seemed to scan all the files on his computer, looking for more information.

They were sitting in a tiny room with one small window. It was more than enough for Izuku. There was a table with a computer and three chairs that were all occupied.

Hawks kept throwing glances at the boy, almost questioning why there weren’t any files on him. Izuku pointedly ignored him.

He held his locket around his neck tightly, another nervous habit of his. The green-haired boy couldn’t remember where he got that from or when. It was just something that always stayed with him. Despite his father's protests to throw it away.

Izuku learned how to hide it so that his father won’t see it. But he wasn’t here. So it was fine.

It was an old thing. A small lock with a silver chain, engraved with faint geometric patterns or symbols. Inside were the words: “Freedom runs in our blood” engraved.

It was almost laughable.

“It’s impossible to find you here. With no family name or quirk, this can go on for days.” The officer stared at the boy: “Don’t be a brat. What’s your quirk?

Izuku gripped his locket so tight that it was a surprise he hadn’t destroyed it yet. He didn’t want to talk about his quirk. No, please, he wanted to do anything but talk about it. The boy felt like the room was too small and felt Tosuro’s eyes on him. Izuku couldn’t expose it.

He simply wasn’t allowed to do that.

“Alright,” Hawks clapped in his hands, sensing his distress, “For all we know, Izuku can not exist at all.”

Tosuro hummed and then sighed deeply, “Then we simply need to do a DNA test. We can look to see if there are any other relatives left.”

“And then what?” frowned Izuku, “I can go live with them? Everything is done then?” Was it that simple? If so, the boy shouldn’t fear anything.

“No. You are still in danger, and we can’t let you roam freely. There are a lot of protocols we need to follow before all that.”

Tosuro stood up with a yawn. “Izuku, please, follow me. We’re going to take a little bit of blood from you to take a DNA test, okay?”

Izuku didn’t think that it was a question to begin with.

“Keep me updated. I need to go, I have a meet-up with someone.” Hawks stretched his shoulder and threw a warning glare to Izuku. The boy understood that he meant ‘behave’ and rolled his eyes.

Izuku closed his eyes and pretended that the needle was a Calmion.

Shit, the things he would do to get one.

“And done! See, that wasn’t so scary,” smiled the nurse. They were in a doctor's office, and Tosuro grabbed the tube with blood.

Izuku tensed up.

His past would haunt him forever.

The officer quickly left the room, and Izuku scammed the room. It was only him and the nurse. There was a window open, and they were on the first floor. If the green-haired jumped, he wouldn’t really get any serious damage.

So, Izuku ran.

Shouta Aizawa wasn’t doing well.

His room was a mess of unwashed mugs and half-written reports. Papers were lying everywhere, and the man could only sigh. The curtains were shut for most of the time, keeping the light out of his room.

The man knew that he needed to get up. The day had already started. He could hear his students laughing and arguing about some dumb show on the television. Aizawa could smell the food burning in the pan.

The teacher knew he needed to get up and yell at his students to keep their eyes on the stove. That they didn’t want any unnecessary accidents.

They laughed easily now, louder than they used to. More confident, more whole. The dorms were messy, alive — walls covered with photos and inside jokes.

After lying in his bed for another twenty minutes, Aizawa sighed and got up tiredly.

“Pineapple definitely belongs on pizza!” Mina said, grinning.

Bakugou slammed his hands on the table. “You’re all idiots.”

Laughter erupted — loud, chaotic, bright. Sero was halfway to sticking tape over Bakugou’s mouth when Aizawa appeared in the doorway, coffee in hand, hair a mess, dark circles deep.

He didn’t say a word. Just stared.

The noise died instantly.

He sighed. “If you’re going to argue, do it quietly. Some of us are trying to pretend it’s a day off.”

They all mumbled sheepish apologies. Aizawa nodded once, turned, and shuffled away.

As soon as he was gone, Uraraka whispered, smiling, “He didn’t even erase us this time.”

Todoroki took a sip of his tea. “Progress.”

Aizawa went outside and sat on one of the stairs.

It still felt strange calling them 3-A. Three years of chaos, loss, and triumph — and yet Aizawa still saw them as his first class. His problem children. His reason for getting out of bed.

It was weird how they were nearly already adults. But Aizawa didn’t consider eighteen-year-olds adults, just kids playing at being adults. How could he take them seriously? When all they did was scream and laugh the whole day.

His whole body ached. The raid that took place in the underground base was supposed to be quick. Just in and out. Hence, that's why he came along. But there was always one idiot who would screw everything up.

The alarms went off, and the whole mission came to a stop.

Aizawa buried his face in his hands, rubbing his head gently. He was tired. The man knew he needed to be the perfect example, an example for his students. But he was too tired to care. He tried. That's for sure, but it wasn’t enough.

Then, his phone got off. Aizawa glanced at it, and it was Tosuro. With a confused frown, the man picked up his phone. “Tosuro? What do you need?”

“My office, now.”

The hero raised his eyebrow. The man sounded worried and bewildered.  

“Did something happen? Why call me? I’m off duty today.”

“Just come faster. This is important.”

Aizawa didn’t even have time to finish his coffee.

Tosuro’s office wasn’t in the official police headquarters. His office was a large building that had more than enough room for Tosuro and his team. Why does he need so much space? Aizawa had no clue. It wasn’t like Tosuro had so many staff or even visitors.

The hero still had his baggy, black clothes on. His hair was still a mess, and his mess was a frown. Aizawa still didn’t understand why he needed to be here. He was tired. It was his day off, and he wanted to spend it cleaning his room and getting some sleep. Maybe watch a movie with his students. Kaminari and Mina were bothering him for a while to join a movie night. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to join once.

When Aizawa saw Tosuro in his office, he didn’t expect to find him in such a distressed state. The hero took a seat and felt something off.

“I’m just going straight to the point. In yesterday’s raid, pro hero Hawks had brought an eighteen-year-old with him from the underground. Hawks says that the boy lived nearly his whole life in the underground. He didn’t know his last name, or didn’t want to share. I’m not that sure. But there were no records of him. We did a DNA test on him, and it was a match with Inko Midoriya.”

Shouta Aizawa was ready for a lot of things. He was ready to be sent on an undercover mission or hear that one of his close co-workers had died. But he wasn’t ready to hear his missing, older sister's name. His heart nearly stopped there, and he forced himself to take some steady breaths.

“Say what?”

“I understand that this is a lot. But the boy that Hawks brought with him is, in fact, your nephew.”

Aizawa took a deep breath, steadying himself. “You’re telling me that this boy spent nearly his whole life in the underground? Where is he now?”

His mind was racing with things that he thought he had buried alive. The boy was alive, even after eighteen years missing. Could he allow himself to believe that his sister was alive, too? Was he allowed to believe that childlike dream?

Tosuro looked pained, “He ran away yesterday.”

Aizawa nearly fainted right there.

“So, you’re telling me that my missing nephew- who was missing for a whole eighteen years- ran away yesterday? You had custody of him for one day, and you let him run away?” In his voice was a dangerous undertone.

“To be fair, his state wasn’t so great, and there was no way that he had such a big burst of energy. But I would take the fall and-”

“You’re telling me that you let him run away when he was injured? Are you out of your mind?”

Aizawa was just thirteen when his sister and nephew disappeared into thin air. Nobody knew what happened to them, and many people would say that it was ‘bad fortune’. Aizawa felt hopeless at that time. He was weak and unable to protect his loved ones, even if he was the younger sibling.

That’s why he became a hero.

But now, his nephew was alive. Aizawa didn’t know if he was safe, but he was alive.

And that was enough for now.

“What does he look like?”

“Definitely not like you,” laughed Hawks as he opened the door of the office with a donut in his hand, “But he is definitely a spitfire.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes, “You think this is funny?”

The winged hero stopped and tilted his head in a bird-like way, “I think we should hurry up.”

Izuku ran.

He didn’t see where he was running. The boy didn’t stop after bumping into an old lady. He didn’t slow down for the cars that honked angrily at him. Izuku couldn’t afford to slow down. He couldn’t be caught again. He needed to be faster.

The streets started to blur.

His vision blurred, and his lungs were on fire. Izuku gasped for air as he fell on his knees and clutched his chest tightly. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, and he didn’t receive enough air in his lungs.

Izuku felt tears form in his eyes. Fuck. Was this really a good moment to cry? He couldn’t afford to become a sobbing mess.

He needed to get away.

And fast.

The boy tried to wipe the tears away in his eyes while taking large gasps for air. The full light of the sun shone right in his face. Izuku squinted his eyes at that and realised that he was on a busy street. Shit. That was the moment he noticed how many people stared at him, and some even asked questions to him.

“Are you alright?”

“He needs an ambulance, and fast!”

“What’s happening?”

“Is everything okay with him? He looks kinda pale and-”

Everything was not alright.

There was too much noise. Izuku wanted so badly to cover his ears with his hands, but instead used them to help himself to stand up. He was causing too much attention to himself. The boy needs to get going, and fast.

Then, he felt a strong grip on his shoulder. Izuku could barely react before he was shoved to move forward.

“He needs some air! Everything is fine.”

The boy took some steps in a daze. Still processing what was actually happening. Then it clicked. Izuku nearly jumped as he looked at who was still gripping his shoulder.

It was a woman.

The same one from the market.

Now, up close, Izuku could see that her hair wasn’t purely white but had some red parts in it too. She noticed him coming back to his senses and let him go, shooting him a kind smile.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. We just needed to get away from the crowd. I get how you feel about that. I get anxiety like that sometimes around paparazzi, too.”

Paparazzi?

Who was she?

Izuku nodded slowly.

“Are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

That’s where it hit him. Izuku was a complete idiot. He was still wearing his slippers from that clinic, and his head was bandaged. No wonder people shot him glances. Izuku shouldn’t panic like that; he wasn’t trained so that he could be a crybaby.

“I’m fine.”

Just as Izuku was ready to slip into the crowd, she grabbed his shoulder gently. The boy got a strong sense of deja vu. She shot him a pleading look.

“It’s not normal to walk on the streets with a head injury.”

“Don’t care. Didn’t ask,” snared Izuku as he looked around the streets. Fearing seeing police or heroes. He felt somewhat guilty for brushing her off like that, even if she had helped him earlier. Izuku appreciated her help, but he needed to focus on other things now.

“Oh my, that temper reminds me of one of my brothers.”

She wasn’t angry or annoyed. That was new. Most people would scream back at Izuku or throw a fist at him.

“What’s your name? Mine is Fuyumi Todoroki.”

Izuku turned to look at her so fast that he heard his neck crack. Todoroki? No way. What had he done to deserve this cruel twist? No, he couldn't answer that question. A lot of things. Izuku couldn’t believe his luck. This was the daughter of Pro Hero Number Two?

When Fuyumi noticed how quiet he was, she only smiled. Izuku bit his lip and looked away. He couldn’t reveal who he was. The boy already revealed too much. How stupid could he be!?

“Isaac Walter.”

She blinked at that, “That’s an interesting name.”

Izuku gritted his teeth at that. It was kinda an extraordinary name. He picked that one out when the green-haired boy was in America with his father for a business trip to fit in there.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

Izuku shook his head violently. He didn’t want anything to do with her family. It wasn’t anything personal, really, but the boy wanted to keep his distance. “I’m fine, thank you.”

He couldn’t stay here longer and play pretend civilian. Izuku needed to move. He needed to find his way down to the underground and let everyone know that he was okay.

Right?

Because that’s what he wanted.

That’s what he needed to do. But did he? There were no guards there. Izuku could think somewhat clearly; there were no drugs pumped in his system - oh, but he wished for another dose of Calmion - and there weren’t trackers in his clothes.

So, what now? Would it be that crazy to go with her? No, he needed to get back.

Back to the underground.

His father must be worried sick. Izuku felt like a bad son. Had he disappointed him yet again?

“You don’t need to stay for long. Just let me check if your head is fine. Alright? You don’t have to be scared. You know-”

Her soft voice was fading into the background as Izuku noticed police officers on the streets. To make things worse, there were heroes with them. They seemed to ask questions to strangers, and Izuku felt cold sweat on his back. Fuck. Were they looking for him?

He needed a way out.

“I will go with you! Thank you so much for the offering. Let’s go, now,” muttered Izuku with a buzzing energy, and Fuyumi frowned in confusion. But she started to walk, and Izuku joined her by the side.

They walked for a short period of time. Fuyumi was telling a story about how she and her brothers grilled an egg on her brother’s stomach. Izuku was more on the quieter side, but sometimes muttered some questions.

“Did you eat that egg?”

“What? No! That’s so gross. It was funny, though.”

They walked into a forest, and when Izuku asked why there weren’t any other people here, she laughed and told him that it was her property. That shocked the boy to the core.

He never really saw a forest, let alone met someone who owned one. Izuku was in awe at how pretty something could be.

They came to a stop, and the boy’s eyes widened. Before them was an enormous house that was based on the Japanese old style. Really fancy. It probably costs a lot and even more to keep it neat and well taken care of.

Wait.

Was Endeavor home too? That would cause some problems. Shit.

Fuyumi saw how hard Izuku stared and laughed it off. “Don’t worry. It’s a big house, but it’s always empty,” she was smiling, but her eyes looked sad.

The boy could understand that. He felt somewhat lonely in most sectors, too.

Fuyumi then started to walk inside.

“Make yourself feel at home.”

Izuku didn’t know what he was expecting. But it sure wasn’t this. He was given a new pair of clothes, and she pointed out where the bath was.

It was nice.

In the underground, the douches were kind of gross and cold. You had a time limit, and the high water pressure made your whole body ache. Sometimes when Izuku was with his father on trips, he would take a bath. It was the best feeling ever. Soaking your bones in hot water.

Izuku didn’t ask where she got these clothes from. But he appreciated it. They were a bit too big for him, but that was fine.

Next, she insisted on looking at the head and bandaging it. But Izuku waved her off. He was still freaking out about this whole outside thing. Plus, the boy didn’t trust her.

People coming so close to him made him uncomfortable.

He still felt kind of dizzy, but didn’t let it show. Then, before he knew it, they were sitting on the ground sharing a meal. Fuyumi explained that she liked cooking; it was a great hobby.

“It’s been a while since I shared a meal with someone. Father isn’t home often, and when he is, then he’s in his office the whole day.”

“You mentioned that you had brothers earlier.”

“Yes. They both live in their school dorms. My younger brothers are very talented.”

Izuku took a bite of his rice. It must be sad living alone. “Why don’t they visit on the weekends?”

“Well, that’s a long story. But they don’t have really good memories of this place.”

Now she looked sad. Izuku didn’t mean to hit such a nerve, but he did. The boy took a deep breath and chose his words very carefully, “I think that they are missing the best food ever! So, that’s on them. Not on you.”

She looked up with wide eyes at him and laughed. It was a genuine laugh. Not the one Fuyumi used when she was on the market or helping him out on the streets.

“Lies! The meat is burnt and the rice is undercooked.”

“A true culinary paradox — crispy and al dente! You’ve outdone yourself.” Izuku then took a large bite of his dish and swallowed it without chewing. He flashed her for the first time a smile.

“I don’t understand how you eat this. I should have called a chef to come and cook. But I wanted to give you a home-cooked meal and got lost in my thoughts.”

Truth to be told, Izuku didn’t think it was bad or gross. He grew up eating conserved food or leftovers. It had no taste or flavour. So, now he was enjoying to the fullest.

“You could’ve told me it was supposed to be like this, and I’d believe you — tastes great to me.”

Things went smoothly from there. Fuyumi didn’t try to pry information out of Izuku and shared some more funny childhood stories. The green-haired boy didn’t realise how tense his shoulders were until he relaxed.

His mind was still filled with paranoia. A small voice in his head was screaming for a needle, a hit, or some pill. But he blocked that voice quickly and tried to focus on the conversation.

After the meal, it became quickly dark. Fuyumi led Izuku to a guest room where she left him to rest. The boy let out a deep sigh and fell onto his mattress on the ground.

Izuku didn’t know what to make of Fuyumi. She was kind, and she would get killed because of it one day. Nobody was this kind without a reason. When he asked why she was helping him, the woman replied with a faint, “You remind me of someone.”

He laid there wide-awake. Thoughts plagued his mind, and that voice in his head didn’t shut up. What was going to happen now?

There was a window.

Izuku tiredly got up from his sheets and pushed the mattress against the window. Then, he laid again on his bed and watched the stars shine brighter than he ever imagined.

The boy let the tears fall — just for a moment — before the world demanded his strength again.

The ceiling above him wasn’t metal. That was the first thing that didn’t make sense. Izuku blinked slowly as he took an uneven, deep breath. He glanced around the room in confusion. The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Then he winced as he rubbed his head and-

Right.

He was in the Todoroki house.

He wasn’t in the underground. Izuku wasn’t going to run tests on rats and mice. He wasn’t in that damp, cold experiment room sharing a lab with Shun.

Shun. Was everything alright with him? Izuku hoped so. The boy took a steady breath and gripped his sheets tightly to steady himself. He was free. He wasn’t in there anymore.

Or should the boy just go back? Izuku bit his inner cheek nervously. He probably should go back. That was the right thing to do. His father was already looking for him and missing him. Izuku bit his cheek so hard that it drew blood.

He could taste the metal, and Izuku nearly puked.

Memories of how he was beaten by his trainers and instructors flooded back.

The academy years were the worst.

Izuku felt himself shiver and scoffed. He needed to man up. The boy couldn’t cry the whole time just because of some bad memories.

“Walter, are you awake? Breakfast is ready!”

Izuku jumped a bit, completely forgetting Fuyumi.

The boy rolled his shoulders and got up tiredly. “Coming!” his voice was hoarse from crying the previous night, and he winced at that.

Izuku opened the door grumpily and saw some fresh clothes on the ground. A laugh bubbled from his throat as he picked them slowly. Fuyumi had no reason to help him, but she still did. She was weird, decided Izuku. He put the clothes on in one swift movement.

They were too big again.

The boy walked through the halls and shivered at the thought of seeing Endeavor. Fuyumi explained that he was never home and was okay with helping him. But Izuku had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate a random stranger chilling in his home, brought by his daughter.

As he entered the kitchen, the boy saw Fuyumi making pancakes. Well, trying to.

Izuku could smell the burnt feeling and grimaced. He had never eaten pancakes before, but he already knew that the smell wasn’t normal.

“Good morning, Walter! Sit, breakfast is ready.”

The green-haired boy smiled and sat down. She gave him a plate with some pancakes and then sat at the opposite side.

“Good morning, too. Thank you for the food.”

They started to eat and fell into comfortable silence. That is, until Fuyumi started to ask questions.

“Walter, you look better now that you got some good sleep. I love to help you out. But I need to know what is happening too.”

Izuku nearly choked on his food. Shit. Why was she asking these things now, of all the times?

“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you, alright? I get you’re in a rough position now. Trust me, I understand. But I need some context too. So, do you have a safe place to stay?”

“I,” started Izuku with wide eyes. What was he supposed to say? The boy didn’t know if he even wanted to go back to the underground. Back to never seeing the stars, when he just discovered them. Back to his three hours of freedom every Sunday.

Izuku didn’t know if he could take it.

“I don’t think so.”

That’s it. She was going to kick him out. Izuku already suspected it, but he wasn’t ready now. The boy hadn’t figured out how this whole outside world worked exactly. He needed some more time.

Her face turned serious. Fuyumi seemed to be deep in thought as she took a bite of her pancake. “I see. I’m sorry to hear that. I understand what you feel, even if it doesn’t seem to be so. So, you don’t really have a good connection with your parents?”

Izuku stilled at that. Right now, he wanted to think of anything else than his father. He gripped his fork so hard that his knuckles became white. What would his father think of him now? Would Izuku be pinned as a traitor?

Izuku answered the question very carefully, “I don’t have a mother. And, I don’t see my father that often.”

Fuyumi stared at him with wide eyes. She had a certain look in her eyes that the boy couldn’t recognize.

“I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s alright.”

They ate in silence until Fuyumi got up. “I need to go to work. I will be home around noon. Is that alright?”

That was when Izuku realised that she was leaving him here. At her house, alone. The boy opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t know exactly what to say. So he just nodded.

She started to walk towards the hallway until she turned to him and beamed, “You know, we are somewhat alike. People like us should stick together. Let’s see what we can do for you when I’m back. There is some food left in the fridge, and you can take a walk in the garden.”

Izuku felt a pang of guilt. She cared so much for him, and he didn’t even tell her the whole truth. The boy stared at his food with an empty look on his face. Did she really think that they were kinda alike?

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the front door shutting with a soft click.

So, he was alone now.

Izuku hated this part of himself with a fierce passion. But he couldn’t help it. He was desperately searching the bathroom cabinets. At first, it was more with curiosity, but it quickly escalated to a disgusted need.

He opened nearly all the cabinets, and when the boy opened the final one, Izuku nearly cried. Inside was exactly what he had been looking for. Pills. Many of them. The green-haired boy didn’t bother with looking at what they were for. He just grabbed three pills greedily from a purple bottle and swallowed them without water.

When he didn’t feel a thing, Izuku debated whether to grab another one. But then the pills melt bitter on his tongue.
A minute later, the warmth starts — slow, creeping, almost kind. His hands stop shaking. The noise in his head softens to a hum.

Izuku hummed contentedly. Time seemed to blur, and he finally felt himself relax to the fullest.  

Life was easier like this.

Izuku could live like this his whole life.

Then he glanced at the mirror. His skin was still too pale as his eye bags were heavily showing, almost bruising his skin. He looked more like a ghost than a human.

Shouto Aizawa didn’t know his nephew that well. How could he? Izuku - that name felt foreign on his tongue - disappeared when he was just an infant. But the pain felt still to this day raw.

He remembered how his older sister always told him to protect little Izuku. To be a good uncle. Now, 18 years later and he can fulfill her last wish.

Hearing her last name hurts. The pain still felt raw and fresh. Even after so many years, the grief didn’t disappear. Inko wasn’t just his older sister; she basically raised him, too. It wasn’t like they had abusive parents, no, not at all. They were just kinda- here. Always work-obsessed and never home.

But Shouta didn’t care. He had Inko, and that was enough. Until it wasn’t.

“Relax, man. Stressing until heart failure won’t help at all,” chimed Hawks as he was leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. Aizawa stared at him, unimpressed. “I’m serious,” continued the winged hero, “Cramping here in your office isn’t healthy, nor is it going to find little Izuku.”

“He’s injured. That boy spent most of his life in the underground. Now, he’s roaming in the city or already back in that awful place.”

Hawks then took a step forward and closed the door softly. He walked to the bureau and took a seat on the chair. “I’m not going to lie, that boy looked like a strong breeze of wind might push him around. But, he’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. That information I gave you and Tosuro? It’s fake.”

Aizawa stared at Hawks with his full attention. He frowned in confusion as he opened his mouth to say something, but Hawks beat him to it.

“You really think someone who lasted that long down there didn’t get his hands dirty?

Aizawa took a sharp breath and glared at the hero.

“Trust me, that kid is no ordinary kid. I’m telling you this because I know you would protect him. The Hero Commission wouldn’t even bother and throw him in jail for the rest of his life. So, are you willing to learn more about your nephew?”

Izuku knew all too well that natural causes like infection or dehydration often resulted in a painful death. The Academy had drilled it into him: never let your guard down, even if you didn’t see any knives or guns.

Infection was a painful matter. The boy remembered all too well the smell of the rotten flesh and the black skin falling off. Amputation seemed like a mercy. But without the right tools, that seems to be foolish. Almost impossible.

The boy didn’t remember his Academy days. The memories were always at the back of his head. They lingered, and he couldn’t let go of them. Izuku could feel his nose being broken in a spar match by his instructor. How his limbs screamed in agony when he was forced to stand in the freezing cold for hours on end in Siberia.  He was lucky enough to survive.

His early childhood memories were in Russia. Back when his name wasn’t Izuku, but Izot. How he was forced to speak the language that didn’t sound right. How his teachers beat him when he got a syllable wrong. Izuku wasn’t supposed to survive the Academy. His name was supposed to be on a long, dreadful list where all the other names were written of children who didn’t survive.

But he survived.

It was honestly a miracle.

Izuku wished quietly in the night that he had died. Everything would be easier. He survived because he was a coward.

Too scared.

Too timid.

Too anxious.

Izuku never expected himself to survive. It was almost laughable how he clung to his life in the Academy. His combat skills were questionable, as his instructors always got frustrated with him. He had the speed and the creativity, but not the courage.

His first memories in life always started at the Academy. They were brutal, cold, and always cruel. That summed the Academy up. Izuku wasn’t exactly sure how he got there in the first place, but there was no going back from that awful place.

The boy killed his first victim when he was seven. It was easy, nothing too wild. There was a man tied up to a chair. One second, he was crying and pleading, and the next, he went limp. Izuku could still smell the gunpowder as he held his pistol tight in his trembling hands. His teacher didn’t look pleased or displeased. She looked bored, at most.

But she nodded, and Izuku figured out that he could live another day. That day, two other boys disappeared from his class. A week later, Izuku learned that they refused to kill and cried.

What a shame.

Showing emotions was for fools, and this was no place to fool around. Izuku knew that. His teacher gave him a slap to his face, hard enough that he became dizzy, for his trembling hands.

His class started with twenty-three people. Only three could graduate. It wasn’t like Izuku was the smartest, strongest, or hardest to kill.

He was lucky.

Lucky enough not to draw too much attention to himself. Not stand out too much so that you become a target.

The most cocky kids got killed faster.

Izuku could remember the smell of blood. How his limbs ached from staying still in one place for hours to improve his stealth.

When he was eight, Izuku was no stranger to killing. It was a regular thing to do in the Academy. He never asked questions about who he was killing. Never. That was one of the unspoken rules. The boy needed to practice more on living targets, sneered the instructors as they pushed the knives into his hands.

He graduated from the Academy with neat results at the  age of thirteen. He was one of the three people who made it out. But the thing was, they never escaped. Once Izuku graduated, his instructors told him that his Father was here.

The boy stood in his combat outfit with a straight back and head high. They told him to be ready for what? Izuku had no idea. He certainly had no idea what his Father would want from him. Izuku, in all honesty, thought that his parents were dead.

It wouldn’t sting. But now, knowing that his Father had abandoned him in the Academy, made his heart ache. Izuku knew that he shouldn’t be hurt. There was no place for his emotions, after all.

Izuku hadn’t even packed a bag when his Father came back for him from Japan. He couldn’t have any attachments. His instructors said to him that Izuku couldn’t bring any weapons. What caused a little panic inside his chest, he always had two guns and a spare knife with him.

Communication with his Father was no problem at all. He was forced to learn seven different languages after all.

His Father said that Izuku could be useful. That his brain had knowledge no other kid had.

And so his life in the underground bases began.

From one cage to the other.

Now, Izuku stared at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t back there. No. He was still at Fuyumi’s place. The pale-skinned boy was still somewhat high from the pills.

The boy violently shook his head so hard that he became dizzy. He dropped to his knees in the bathroom and nearly vomited. The boy gasped desperately for air as his lungs burned. Why?

Tears began to form in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was too much. Izuku coughed as he gasped for more air that didn’t reach his lungs. His whole body was shaking as he hugged his ribs.

His gaping for more air became aggressive as his hands formed into fists. Why had he thought about the Academy? He didn’t want to be there anymore. He wasn’t. Izuku let his forehead meet the cool, cold tiles in the bathroom. His head felt dizzy, and he could feel bile going up to his throat.

Too late, he had one second to turn his head so that he wouldn’t vomit on himself. He breathed heavily, and Izuku prayed that he wouldn’t pass out in his own vomit. The world was spinning. Tears and snot were all over his face, and the boy felt disgusting.

Breathe, he thought, just breathe. After what felt more than an entirely, his lungs started to burn less. He gaped for more air. Slowly, his body started to relax. Izuku was still shaking, but felt steadier.

What was wrong with him? Every thought and memory from the Academy was buried deep in his head. A pack of issues that he didn’t want to touch. Izuku was lucky. He survived by pure luck, and actually, the Academy wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

Nothing was real.

Izuku lived his whole life in the underground bases. He never left Japan. He didn’t know the Russian language like his first language. The boy dug his nails into his skin so deeply that it drew blood. Everything that happened to him wasn’t real.

These twenty people who died in his class? He had no idea about that. All the training and combat that he got? Izuku had forgotten everything. His cruel teachers and instructors? The boy shook his head as he clenched his eyes shut.

He wasn’t a product of the Academy.

Izuku stood up shakingly from the ground, grabbing the sink to support himself. When he looked into the mirror, he suppressed a scream from horror.

He saw himself.

When he was one of he top students in the Academy.

He was wearing his plain, black uniform. Back then, he never touched any drugs. He had a healthy body mass, and you could see muscle under his black combat clothes. His eyes shone dangerously, someone who calculated every move and used words like daggers. This version was carefully broken down and rebuilt into something dangerous. At least, his mind was somewhat clear back then.

“You fool,” spat his reflection with a sneer. “Look at yourself. You’re pathetic. You can’t even deal with the reality.”

Izuku felt tears from his eyes again. He clenched them shut and gritted his teeth so hard that it hurt. The boy shook his head as the words that he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

The student in the mirror eyed him with disgust written all over his face. “Are you serious? Can’t you even face me?” his voice was filled with venom and disbelief as his expression filled with hate.

Izuku wanted to say something, like shut up or go away, but found that he couldn’t mutter a word. It was frustrating.

And it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be.

His reflection seemed to be done with him. “Izot.”

Izuku moved before he realised what had happened. He stood straight as his hands moved behind his back. The boy held his head high, and he stood braver than he felt at that moment. He didn’t mean to cause such a reaction. He hadn’t heard his old name in a long, long time.  

His reflection seemed to be pleased, but only for one small second. “Why are you denying everything?” his voice was filled with disdain and a silent episode of rage. “You’re acting unreasonably! You’re a fool! I can’t believe that you’re me right now.

You need to remember. Think, think! Izot. You’re better than these pills that made you believe that you lived your whole life in that idiotic base.” His eyes turned sharp like daggers, his lip curled in disgust, “Unless you don’t want to remember. Live in a fairy tale, then. Make yourself the victim. But you survived twenty-three to three not purely out of luck. You’re a killer.”

Izuku stared at himself with wide, fearful eyes. He shook his head, “No, no, no... Please, not this. I’m not. I-I,” his voice broke down. His reflection stared with pure hatred at him. He carried himself with elegance, even if he was mad. Now, he seemed to have had enough. For a terrifying second, Izuku thought that he might jump out of the mirror and strangle him to death.

But instead, his reflection shot him a venomous glare. “You’re a shame to the rest of the twenty. Stop acting like a damsel in distress. You have a job to do. Remember the sacrifices! Remember everything that happened at the Academy! You fucking-”

Somehow, this thirteen-year version of Izuku was way terrifying than any villain the boy had met. He had such hatred in his eyes that the eighteen-year-old froze in fear. When Izuku heard the word Academy, he didn’t know what happened. One moment, he was standing before the mirror. The other, he was screaming.

The screams were coming from him, right? That was the only good explanation. But everything didn’t feel real. The screaming, violence, it was like Izuku wasn’t here. Like he wasn’t the cause of everything.

So, one moment, he was staring in the mirror. And the other moment, his hand was bleeding. He punched the mirror. Izuku glanced at the ground and saw the broken parts lying on the ground. But he also saw himself, a graduate from the Academy through them.

The boy couldn’t do it anymore.

He broke down on the ground, screaming, as only some parts of his memories flashed through him.

Izuku was running, urgency in every stride, his movements fueled by desperation. He was breathing heavy as his lungs burned, telling him to stop, but he kept running. His vision was blurred as he felt the blood still dripping from his knuckles. The boy was sprinting, not looking where he was going. Izuku knew one thing clearly: he needed to get away.

Because this wasn’t real. Nothing was at the end.

Izuku then collapsed into the wall. He sat against it, trying to catch his breath. Fuck. His whole body was trembling, and the boy felt miserable. Why?

Why was this happening to him?

The pale-skinned boy grew up in Japan. His first language was Japanese, and Father never left him. So, why did everything feel like a lie?

Izuku closed his eyes as he remembered his reflection in the mirror. His thirteen-year-old self. The boy shivered and  struggled to hold back a sob.

He didn’t want to go back.

Izuku would rather die than go back.

The boy took a steady breath and looked up to the sky. His whole body was trembeling, but Izuku didn’t care enough to do something about it. The boy knew that his entire life had been a lie.

Izuku could repeat that it wasn’t real. That he never fought someone and won. That the Academy wasn’t real at all. But the boy knew that he would be lying to himself.

The reality was cracking.

He could go back to the underground, Izuku supposed. His Father would be pleased, and he would get his regular shot of needles and pills. Those bad memories would disappear. The Academy would still linger in his mind, but Izuku wouldn’t figure anything more about it.

That sounded good. Izuku would be fed the sweet lie from the spoon while the rotten truth would be swept away.

The boy leaned heavily against the wall as he looked around in the alley. He could find his way back. Izuku bit his cheek nervously as he weighed his options. That could do. The freckled boy could sweep the ugly truth behind a rug and live his life.

What stopped him?

He lived for five whole years like that.

Izuku didn’t know why they were trying to keep him quiet. Dumb. Repressed. But they were doing a great job at it.

With shaking legs, the boy stood up.

What other choice did he have? Izuku had no real family aside from his Father. He needed the pills to function and live. The boy couldn’t do it otherwise then. He needed that stupid, dumb routine that he always had. Working until he nearly collapsed and sleeping so little that he was always exhausted.

Because Izuku wasn’t ready to deal with the Academy just yet. He was content playing a scientist in a lab.

He was slurring his feet as Izuku forced his body to move. Getting high and having a panic attack was no weak.

Faintly, he heard a startled scream and nearly jumped. Izuku narrowed his eyes and glanced nervously where the scream came. He only dared to peek a little bit, and his eyes widened.

Three men were laughing as they cornered a boy who seemed to be still in middle school. Izuku cursed himself, just his luck. He glanced in the other direction and debated whether he should just walk away.

He wasn’t a hero after all. And never would want to be one.

But then, Izuku heard a disgusting sound of bones breaking. When he looked back, the boy was lying on the ground, silently screaming as one of the men was stomping his ribs with his boot. He had tears smeared all over his face as his face twisted in a pained expression.

Izuku winced at that. But the boy was young. He could survive some broken ribs, sure, it hurts. But he would live. Just as Izuku wanted to slip into the shadows, he heard laughing.

“What? Already crying? We should fucking kill you for what your dearst daddy did to us,” the man’s voice was buzzing with energy as he laughed. His mouth twisted in an ugly thing.

Izuku wanted nothing more than to walk away. But his legs moved on their own. One of the men saw him and sneered all ugly to Izuku, “Hey! What’cha standin’ here? Why ya lookin’ like that?” This one seemed to be drunk.

Izuku now noticed the obvious length and muscle difference between them, but kept his cool. He rolled his shoulders as he glanced at the poor boy on the ground, still crying. The freckled boy took a steady breath as he felt adrenaline being pumped in his system yet again.

This wasn’t good. Too late, he was standing now in front of them, and there was no way back. “Let go of him. Look at him. He’s already hurt; that’s enough,” his voice was trembling.

The boy noticed him. He was still lying on the ground and covering his head with his arms, trying to protect himself as best as he could.

“Screw, brat. This ain’t your business,” the one who was kicking the boy stopped and focused his attention on Izuku. All three of them were staring at him, and the boy felt a shiver creep up.

“Three on one small kid. Seems to be my business.”

That seemed to be enough. The drunk one wasted no time swinging at Izuku. The boy froze in fear as he heard a disgusting crack when the man’s fist connected with his nose. Izuku seemed to be too shocked by what had happened as he fell on his butt with a terrified expression. Blood was pouring from his nose as tears started to form in his eyes.

The man who was quiet the whole time chuchkled softly, “Yeah? Sit your ass down, stop trying to be a hero.”

Now, they were with two who were kicking the poor kid. Izuku got some blood into his mouth and gagged. The metallic smell made him dizzy as his mind was already somewhat fogged. The kid was screaming now, and Izuku only wanted to tell him to shut the hell up.

Izuku was passing the screams as background noise as he lay on the ground breathing heavily through his mouth. His nose burned. Every part of his body did.

“Shut up,” muttered Izuku softly, “I said shut up!” He wanted to focus, collect his thoughts. He couldn’t work when this kid was screaming his lungs out.

Of course, the drunk one heard him.

The man barked out a sharp laugh and marched towards him. “What’cha said now? You fuckin’ brat!”

Izuku didn’t register the kick that he got to his stomach, only the pain afterwards. The boy gasped for air as he felt the boot. land again into his stomach. Izuku used his hands to protect himself as he curled up. The kicks never stopped, and the boy felt sharp pain everywhere.

Izuku started to cry silently as he prayed that everything would stop. The man stopped for a second, and the boy cried in relief.

“Oh, wow. Ey! Come lookin’ at this. He’s weeping like a little bitch! Even that kid didn't shed tears like that."

The other two walked over them, and Izuku shrank in fear. But then, he saw the kid getting up, grabbing his backpack and running off with a limp. At least he kinda saved the kid, right?

“Damn, you’re right. Yo, stop crying, you fucking asshole.”

The next thing he felt was a series of kicks, and Izuku cried out. They weren’t set on stopping. They didn’t even seem to be tired from kicking him like a rag doll. He was going to die here, Izuku realised with wide eyes.

They were set on killing him and leaving his broken body in this alley.

His vision blurred, body on fire. Pain radiated from his ribs, his bruised shoulders, but worse than the physical pain were the screams in his head. The chaos, blood, and dizziness were overwhelming.

And then he saw him.

Time seemed to slow down as Izuku stared with wide eyes at him.

He was standing with a perfect straight back and impossible still. But the thirteen-year- old boy wasn’t weak, that was for sure. Every inch of him radiated control, precision, and cold judgment. His dark, green eyes were piercing right into Izuku’s soul. He was wearing the black Academy uniform with combat boots and two twin guns strapped to his side. Izuku was sure there were all sorts of blades, daggers and bombs strapped to him.

“You’re pathetic,” spat the boy, his voice cutting through the ringing in Izuku’s ears. “Can’t you even stand on your own two feet. Is this really who you became?” He cocked his head like a bird and narrowed his eyes, disgust written all over his face, “What have I become?”

Izuku shook his head, chest heaving. “No, no, no, you’re not real. Get out.”

The boy didn’t look pleased at that. “Don’t lie. Don’t pretend, and for certain, don’t run. You know who you are. You know what we went through. Do you want to keep hiding? Do you want to forget everything?”

Izuku shook his head, “No... I-”

“You can’t? Stop acting so damn selfish. You can, but you refuse. Because remembering hurts, doesn’t it? But I think living such a pathetic life hurts too, y’know?”

Izuku’s hands trembled as he clutched his head as if he could physically keep the memories out, “Get out of my head! You vermin, screw you! I don’t want to remember! I...I-”

The boy stepped closer with a sharp look on his face. “You do. You've been running for five years. It’s time to stop and face the truth, isn't it? How much more time do you simply need?”

Izuku’s stomach turned as cold, heavy dread sank into his bones.

“You’re nothing compared to me. Weak and soft.”

Izuku stared at the boy in front of him in horror. “Go away,” his tone was now softer, like he was pleading. The thirteen-year-old boy looked at him for the last time before walking off with a grace that only the top students in the Academy possessed, “Suit yourself.”

Aizawa wasn’t exactly fond of Keigo Takami, Hawks, but he seemed to know how to get a job done.

Especially if the topic was Izuku.

The dark-haired man didn’t like to show his panic about the control of the situation to anyone. But it was kinda hard to hide it when it was about Izuku.

His nephew was a lost cause. There were so many things that simply didn’t make any sense.

“I like doughnuts, especially the chocolate ones. The strawberry ones are a bit overkill. Way too sweet, y’know?” Aizawa took a deep breath, trying to focus on the papers that were spread on his bureau, “But these ones with little pieces of marshmallow are kinda cute, though, not sure how they taste.”

The man took a deep breath as he calmed himself down. Aizawa gave a pointed stare to Hawks, who was leaning against his bureau, breathing in his neck, while spilling crumbs everywhere with his pack of doughnuts.

The winged one was playing with fire, and he seemed to know that too. Hawks was probably enjoying every second of it, that fucker. But he looked like he wanted to help, too.

Aizawa was seconds away from strangling the man. He said that Izuku was somewhat complex and there were many layers of trauma bundled around him. The dark-haired hero wanted to know everything that Hawks didn’t reveal in his reports, but was waved off. Something like ‘he wouldn’t understand’ which was complete bullshit.

They were talking about Aizawa’s nephew.

“We should probably patrol in District 24, all the metros lead there after all.”

Hawks grabbed the map with his chocolate-stained hands and shook his head. “Nope! What makes you think he would be there? That won’t do.”

Aizawa grabbed the map back, a bit more aggressively than he should, and scanned the arena. “District 12, then. There are a lot of criminals; he might want to blend in.”

Hawks tilted his head, and Aizawa saw that the man was really thinking, and hard. He might act childishly and inconsiderately, but when he had a job, it was done neatly.

He could respect that.

Aizawa stared at the map with thoughtful eyes. Izuku, the man wondered, where are you?

Izuku woke up with the biggest headache ever. First, he couldn’t figure out where he was exactly.

Then it all hit him.

Izuku let out a low whine as he tried to sit up. Pain flared right through him, and he suppressed a scream that was building right from his throat.

It fucking hurt.

Everything.

If Izuku was honest, he was surprised to open his eyes at all.

Weakly, he felt his head and saw dried blood. The boy couldn’t do it anymore; he tried to vomit, but nothing came out. Only some saliva and some blood from where he bit his tongue by accident.

Izuku felt all emotions at once.

Fear.

Shame.

Frustration.

Sadness.

Fury.

How could he be so stupid as to let himself get beaten up by these men?

Izuku decided that sitting was too much energy and rolled over to his right. Would anyone notice him here? Would they call the police and an ambulance or decide that Izuku was just some junkie?

Time seemed to go slowly.

Every time he took a deep breath, his ribs would scream at him. His head was spinning around, and the daylight made his headache not any easier. Izuku could feel bruises forming all over his body.

In short, Izuku was in agony.

That much was clear.

He was stupid. Izuku didn’t understand why he ran away from Fuyumi’s house. He winced at the thought of her coming home and discovering her broken mirror. The pain in his knuckles was still lingering.

He was going to die here, in this piss covered alley.

Izuku wished he could go back to his Base in the underground. The boy wished to believe that he spent his whole life there, maybe, with some memory suppressants and what pills he would think so again.

Maybe it was better like that.

It was better than dying in such a stupid manner. At least he was useful there.

Izuku didn’t notice how he completely lost his consciousness until he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Izuku woke up in a strange daze. Which was strange, that he even woke up. He thought that it was the end of that dirty alley.

It seemed like fate had better options for him.

“Water,” gasped Izuku weakly as he opened his eyes at the same time. The light hurt his eyes, and he closed them shut. He felt like he had walked into some desert. His mouth was unbearably dry that it even hurt. Fastly, someone grabbed his head, tilting it up as his dry lips met a cup of water.

He drank it greedily as he nearly choked.

This was the best thing he had ever tasted.

“Careful,” whispered softly a female voice.

Izuku decided to spare her a glance and nearly cried from relief. Fuyumi. She looked like she didn’t sleep, which made the boy feel guilty. Was she worried for him?

Maybe because he was so tired and his whole body was screaming as his limbs ached, he didn’t notice the danger.

Because that was a good excuse, everything did hurt.

Izuku let out a soft moan of pain as he tried to sit up, but gentle arms pushed him right back into bed. He was lying on a lot of soft pillows with heavy, thick blankets on him. The boy had no problem with going back to sleep, but noticed someone standing by the door with crossed arms.

Endeavor.

That’s it.

Izuku is done for. His life was pathetic, so maybe it was for the best if his life ended here. The boy prayed that Fuyumi wouldn’t have trouble carrying his burned corpse out of her house.

The pro hero didn’t look pleased. He had a frown on his face, and Izuku wondered if he knew other expressions that only that one. But Fuyumi paid him no mind at all.

“How are you feeling?”

Izuku opened his mouth, but no sound came. She gave him a piteous look, “You don’t have to answer that. I’m happy that you’re alive.”

Yes, and Izuku had so many questions. How did she find him? Was she mad that he gave her so much trouble? Why did she care about him so much? It didn’t make any sense.

There were other questions too, more important. Is your Father going to skin me alive? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can I leave?

Fuyumi seemed to sense his distress and gave him a gentle smile. “You need to rest.”

But he didn’t want to rest. Izuku wanted answers.

But he could agree that he was tired. His limbs ached in agony as he tried to roll to the side to get a better look at the room. It was a simple room, nothing too fancy in the Japanese traditional style.

“Isaac Walter.”

Izuku was so startled at the commanding and rough voice that he nearly jumped. He stared at Endeavor and nodded. Right. That was his name.

Fuyumi didn’t appreciate that.

“Leave him alone. Don’t you see it? Walter is tired enough and doesn’t need you to question him right now.”

The man gave her a grim look and rolled back his shoulders. “I just want to know more about who is now in my house.” Izuku winced at that. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. But the boy couldn’t blame the man in his judgment.

“So, I listened to my daughter pleading about finding you. I did find you in an alley, beaten up and nearly dead. But now, I want you out of my house.”

Izuku stared at him with wide eyes and nodded. The man didn’t even need to try to look imitated; he already was.

“Get out of bed and screw.”

Izuku threw the blanket away and sat up; his whole body protested. Fuyumi wasn’t pleased by that and slammed the boy again to the bed. Only now, Izuku saw badges all over his body.

They were done neatly and with care.

Nothing like Izuku did in the underground.

“He is injured and doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“But he is also an eighteen-year-old adult man around my daughter. I don’t appreciate that. He is more trouble than worth it.”

Izuku was surprised, and even that was an understatement.

The boy knew he looked scrawny, skinny, and malnourished. It was harder to guess his age, but Endeavor did it right with no trouble. That was some great skill.

“I said get out!” screamed the man in front of him with a glare. Izuku wasted no time jumping up on his feet as he glanced. “Now screw!”

But the reality was hitting him now. He didn’t want to go back to the underground, not yet, at least. Izuku didn’t have any connections that would cover for him. So, in short, he was fucked.

Fuyumi had her arms on her hips as she stared at her father. But held her mouth shut this time. Izuku couldn’t ask her to defend him in front of her family; that was too much.

So, he needed to try on his own means.

His first instinct was to blurt a lie.

“Endeavor, sir, I’m actually part of your anger management therapy group.”

The man stiffened. Then, his eyes narrowed, and Izuku felt the only reasonable thing to do was to run.

“The hell you fucking are-”

“This is step 3. Exposure. I know these steps all too well.”

The hero seemed to have had enough. He took two large steps, and Izuku jumped away from him, scared out of his mind.

“Okay! I’m sorry! I’m studying domestic flame distribution!”

The man stopped as he looked baffled and bewildered.

“This is for research!”

Yeah, no, Izuku fucked up.

Izuku doesn’t know how exactly he got what he wanted. “Till your injuries are better and you can walk freely around. You hear me? Then you'd better screw,” grumbled Endeavor as he glared at Izuku.

Maybe he took pity on the boy. Or saw through his lies just how desperate the boy had been to stay.

That didn’t mean Endeavor trusted him. Not a chance. The man would always throw glances at Izuku even if the boy did nothing else but lie in his bed.

Fuyumi was thrilled, to say at least. “This is the first time in ages he’s stayed at the house for more than a few hours.”

Yeah, maybe because he didn’t trust Izuku home alone with Fuyumi. Who knows what kind of person he was?

Izuku slept the whole time.

It was just easier like that.

He didn’t know exactly how many days had passed. Maybe just one or two. But the bruises started to heal slowly. His nose didn’t ache the whole time. He still felt unbearable pain when he breathed too deeply, hence his broken ribs, but Izuku figured out he could live like this.

Not only that, but Fuyumi was giving him painkillers throughout the whole day. Izuku knew he should say no and never look back at them. But the temptation was too much.

The boy thought about his Father. Was he worried about Izuku? Or more annoyed? The freckled boy bit his inner cheek as he closed his eyes and wrapped himself around the blanket. He didn’t want to think about it.

Because the only sane option was to go back.

But it was so nice lying here. When Izuku woke up in the Todoroki house, all badged up and cleaned, he freaked out. Did they see the scars on his body? Would they ask questions about it? But Fuyumi quickly shushed him and told Izuku that a private housekeeper cleaned the boy up a bit, and a private doctor bandaged him up nicely.

That was at least something.

But how longer he stayed here, how more paranoid Izuku became. The boy knew that they were looking for him, and that freaked him out more than it should. Not only that, but the police were after his ass too.

It would be easier if he had died in that alley.

But that wouldn’t do.

Izuku took a deep breath and shakingly stood up.

He couldn’t stay here anymore. Not with Endeavor, that was watching the boy like a hawk. Izuku couldn’t mess up.

He needed to get out.

Maybe Izuku could stay here. The Todoroki house wasn’t homely or cozy, but it gave the boy a cover. The freckled one didn’t know how long he could stay here before his secrets would be found out. Before, police would come knocking on the door or worse, his Father.

Endeavor was somewhat scary and cold in Izuku’s books. But he allowed the boy to stay, even if he was a complete stranger. Fuyumi was a kind soul that Izuku didn’t deserve.

So, Izuku folded his bed properly. It was the last thing he could do. And with that done, the boy slipped into the window as he ran away from the Todoroki house.

He did a lot of running in his life, that was for sure.

Izuku had no real plan.

He only thought about how not to get caught by the two parties. The police and his Father. But he had no idea what to do next.

Izuku was truly alone now. Panic started slowly creeping into his chest. What should he do now? The boy supposed that he could always go back to the underground. They would welcome him with open arms and even reward him for his loyalty.

But as Izuku stared at the blue sky, he craved more.

He couldn’t go back, not yet.

Izuku was in a white plain shirt and blue, loose jeans. The boy had red shoes that Fuyumi bought him with a smile. She said it was nothing when Izuku refused to the gift. He had no money with him, nor any papers that indicated his identity. Simply put, this was bad.

Izuku walked slowly as he navigated through the busy streets of Japan. Kids walked with backpacks as they stared at their phones. Old ladies with grocery bags are humming under their breath as they make their way home. People walking with their dogs. Teenagers who were sitting on the ground in little corners as they laughed and made jokes.

To put it short, it was a lot.

Izuku straightened his back and forced himself to walk. He had no idea where to go or what to do. This was a terrible idea, and the boy wondered if he could go back to the Todoroki house.

But it was too late.

There were crowds of people everywhere, and it made Izuku wonder where they were going. Because everyone had a destination, right?

Then, something green caught his eye.

Izuku’s body stiffened as his breath caught in his throat. He felt his hands shake as he gently shook his head in disbelief.

No.

Please, no.

There he was, standing with the same neat posture and cold, arrogant expression on his face. He always wore the same black uniform, maybe because it was the only thing he was allowed to wear. His thirteen-year-old self stared right into Izuku’s soul with his big, hollow eyes.

Then, the little boy started to run.

Izuku blinked in surprise as the little boy started to blend in with the crowd. “Hey! Where are you going?” The green-haired wasted no time chasing the boy.

His running was messy, nothing compared with how the little boy ran. The kid ran neatly and dodged everything and everyone with effortless grace.

Izuku didn’t have that much luck. He bumped into everyone and had no time to apologize. The eighteen-year-old was chasing a hallucination, or maybe an effect of drug withdrawal. It was hard to tell.

“Can you stop running? Stop! I want to talk!”

About what exactly? Izuku didn’t know it himself. He needed to make sure that this person wasn’t real. He was only an illusion that Izuku saw as an effect of the drugs or the withdrawal.

But the kid was stubborn. He ran without a problem while Izuku’s lungs started to burn and his body ached. This wasn’t good.

But he needed to catch him. Make sure that it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The streets and the people started to blur altogether while Izuku’s eyes only focused on the green-haired boy. He nearly got run over by a car because he wasn’t looking, but Izuku didn’t care.

He ran faster, trying to catch up.

Then, the kid turned sharply and jumped into an alley. Izuku wasted no time, slamming himself into the alley’s wall as he felt sharp pain coming from his ribs. “Stop,” gasped the older one while staring at the younger one.

His thirteen-year-old self finally slowed down as he looked lazily at Izuku. Like they didn’t run a whole marathon through the city.

If what, his younger self looked unbothered.

He leaned against a grey, dirty door. He was standing next to an apartment that had seen better days. It looked like it might collapse right here and now. There were spiderwebs, and the paint was cracking and falling off. Izuku wouldn’t be surprised if there was mold growing in that house. It looked abandoned.

The older one frowned in confusion as the kid grabbed two pins from his pocket and started to pick the lock. Not even a second later, the door opened. The kid gave Izuku a daring glance as he entered the house.

“Hey...,” muttered Izuku in confusion as he walked closer and followed the kid inside with a bad feeling.

Izuku didn’t know what to expect when he stepped inside the apartment. But it was nothing special. Just an old, abandoned building. He started to climb up the stairs and found the cadet from the Academy sitting on the table, swinging his feet lazily with a bored expression on his face.

Izuku grit his teeth at him. Anger flared in his chest. Chest heaving with all that running and palms shaking. His body was screaming for rest, and he felt sweat dripping from his forehead.

“You’re not real. Let’s make that much clear.”

He didn’t know what he expected from the thirteen-year-old. But it was certainly not this. The kid had cold, calculating eyes like sharpened glass. “Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because I’m hallucinating!” Izuku yelled as he waved with his hands. “Because I’m stressed! Because this doesn’t make any sense!”

His reflection seemed to be unimpressed. “So that’s the excuse you’re going with? Hallucination?” He scoffed at that, “Typical. You always were the weaker one.”

Izuku stared at this uncanny version of himself. He didn’t like this, not a bit. “I am not! I’m not!”

His reflection jumped off he table and took a few steps closer to Izuku. He was walking like a predator. Izuku took a few steps back until he was touching the wall.

“I don’t get why you try to bury your past. But you did well. You had five years after all to do that. Look at you now, where are your skills now? Lost, I suppose. Look how you walk, you can’t even fight.”

Izuku closed his eyes for a second, praying that if he opened them again that this version of himself would disappear. When he opened them again, he saw an unimpressed look.

Izuku breathed heavily, “You can’t be real. Are you someone’s quirk?”

The kid laughed at that. His laugh was ugly, twisted, and held no innocence. Izuku winced at that. The laugh sent a small shiver as he looked somewhat pale.

The kid shook his head in disbelief, “C’mon, you’re smarter than that.”

“What are you?”

The kid tilted his head, confused. He had disgust written all over his face, “Isn’t it obvious? I am you.”

And just like that, the kid disappeared again. Leaving Izuku confused and somewhat scared. Just what was wrong with him?

Izuku then let himself fall as he sat against the wall. He could only throw his head back as he held his tears back. The boy couldn’t cry, not now. But he couldn’t be strong either.

Izuku didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the cold, dirty floor. But he remembered that he must move, do something. He just didn’t have the energy to do so.

The apartment had surprisingly no mold in it. It was far from nice, but in an okay state. But the walls were far too small; it made Izuku believe he was suffocating.

Slowly, the boy stood up.

He felt like breaking down again.

Izuku walked in a daze. He doesn’t remember walking past the hallway, the stairs, the creaking door. The floorboards groaned under him. It was like the boy knew where he needed to walk.

He moved to the small living room, scanning the dusty shelves. Empty. Izuku’s throat tightened. It felt like he was trespassing in a place where he shouldn’t be.

He walked further in, past the peeling wallpaper. Everything was wrong, but at the same time, it made sense.

Izuku couldn’t shake the weird, creepy feeling.

Then-

A noise.

A soft ‘clink’ beneath his shoe.

Izuku froze.

He lifted his foot and saw nothing there.

But his hand moved anyway. Izuku’s heart was beating so hard and fast that he might get a heart attack. He pressed his fingers along the corner where the wall met the floorboard.

Nothing.

He paused. Izuku held his palm near the wall. And he felt it- a faint draft where there shouldn’t be one.

Izuku felt sweat drip on his forehead as his hands trembled.

He tapped lightly.

Hollow. So, it was a hideout panel. Izuku felt sick, like he might vomit. His fingers shook as he dug nails under the floorboard and pulled.

Underneath was a small metal slit.

Almost invisible.

It was made by a professional.

Izuku’s eyes widened as he jerked back, gasping. This couldn’t be real. No.

The boy jumped to his feet as he ran to the kitchen. He opened the shelves and found them empty; there was nothing here but dust. Izuku started to open all the drawers and shelves that he could find. Then he saw it, a salt shaker filled with nothing more than salt.

Or that was the idea.

Izuku grabbed it with aggression as he threw it on the ground. Glass shattered everywhere, but he didn’t care. First, he kneeled and started to dig his fingers into the salt.

Searchering.

Then, he found it.

A key.

It was so small that Izuku nearly missed it. But no, the key was very real.

Then, he ran back to where the metal slit was. The key slid cleanly out, like it had been waiting for years. Maybe it did.

Slowly, Izuku turned the key. A click answered, and a panel in the wall shifted open.

Inside was a gun case, black and locked, stamped with the insignia of the Academy.

Izuku couldn’t do it anymore. He covered his head with his arms. The boy was violently shaking and tried to breathe. But he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t breathe.

What was happening?

This couldn’t be real.

Izuku lived his whole life in Japan with his father in the Underground. He was raised in the Bases and worked as a scientist. His Father saved him, gave him a better life. Izuku was just Izuku. He was just an addict and spent nearly his whole life in the underground. The boy had every Sunday three hours of freedom. He never spends his time far away from the Base.

So, what was happening?

After what felt like an eternity. Izuku could somewhat breathe. But he kept repeating his mantra over and over again.

Focus, thought the boy to himself, don’t panic anymore.

Izuku grabbed the cold, heavy box. Dust was in the air because of that.

He shouldn’t open it. The boy knew he shouldn’t do it.

But his hands were already opening it. Like they knew what they were doing. The lid opened, and Izuku froze.

Inside the box was a pistol, well-maintained and black, a model only used by the Academy students. On the pistol was a small logo, a bunny.

It was his logo.

Izuku held the gun so tight that his knuckles turned white. His hands moved before he could stop them. His fingers brushed cold metal, and a shiver tore down his spine.

He lifted the gun.

It fit into his hand. The weight, hold, and the metal felt all too familiar to Izuku.

His heart pounded as his vision blurred. Izuku stood up and stumbled back in fear and shock. This wasn’t right.

But the truth sat heavy in his palm.

No, gasped Izuku. He threw the gun away as his legs finally gave out. This was too much. Izuku couldn’t do it anymore. He should have stayed with Fuyumi, with her home-cooked meals. The boy sank to the floor as he stared at the gun with wide eyes.

He couldn’t look away.

He just couldn’t.

Every time Izuku threw that cursed gun away, he picked it up. He tried to put it in the box again, but his mind screamed at him to go get it. Like he was being unreasonable, an idiot.

But the boy didn’t want to see it.

Because he was scared. Izuku didn’t know who he was- used to be anymore. And that scared him more than it should. After some hours trying to hide it, he even threw it away from the window and then went after it. Izuku gave up.

He was now lying on the couch. It sagged in the middle, and the cushions were flat, hurting his back. Izuku had an idea to sleep on the floor, but brushed that idea away.

It was nighttime.

Izuku didn’t know why he stayed in this apartment. Maybe because he didn’t have a better place to stay. But he felt somewhat okay with staying here. It could be worse.

Now, Izuku was inspecting the gun. He knew he should do something better, like take a shower or go find some new clothes. But instead, he chose to look at his gun in wonder.

It had to be Izuku’s gun.

The boy didn’t know why the bunny was his logo. Did he make that up? Izuku wished his thirteen-year-old reflection would come. Maybe he would explain some things.

Because Izuku had no clue what was happening right now.

Before Hawks, when he was still in the underground. Izuku remembered the Academy. It was just a place that the boy dreaded and nothing more.

But now, Izuku started to remember.

Why? Did they feed him memory suppressants that strong in his meals? But if that was a theory, where were his skills?

Izuku remembered his reflection moving with grace. Running while dodging people is like second nature. Blending in the crowd like crazy. So, where were these skills?

Because they were the same person.

Maybe five years of doing nothing did the job. He hadn’t had the chance in the underground to work out or sleep well. The food wasn’t good either.

All the theories made Izuku’s head hurt. The boy frowned and hugged the gun tightly.

He didn’t remember a lot of things and didn’t want to.

It was fine, everything was okay.

The first sound Izuku heard wasn’t his heartbeat.

It was the click of his thumb instinctively switching the safety off.

His eyes snapped open.

Izuku’s fingers were clenched so tightly around the gun that for a moment, he thought it was part of him, fused into his bones. After a few seconds of breathing and looking around the apartment, he softened his grip on the gun.

He didn’t remember learning to do that. Or not in the underground at least. Not in Japan.

Yet the muscle memory was familiar.

Izuku rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was way too early for this. As he looked outside, it was still dark.

Too dark to worry about this shit. His back hurt as he shifted to his side; the shitty couch did nothing to ease his pain. He held the gun in his hands, not knowing what to do with it. Izuku grimaced as he inspected the gun yet again. It wasn’t bad to have some protection.

The boy just stared at the gun with blank eyes.

There was a tiny carving. A rabbit. That was his own mark, wasn’t it? Izuku was sure about that.

So, was his life just a product crafted in the Academy? If Izuku thought about it too much, his head became dizzy.

But everything kind of made sense.

His stomach twisted as he jumped from the couch and gagged, but nothing came out. He still held the gun tightly in his hand.

Images hit him like a brick. Not fully memories- just flashes.

A hand that forced a pill between his teeth.

Needles.

Hands gripping his jaw.

A syringe.

Izuku shivered at that as his heart was beating wildly in his chest. The room felt too small, and the air too thin.

“This can’t be real,” muttered Izuku as he stood shakingly with trembeling hands. “This is wrong. I grew up here. I was in Japan. I was with my father the whole time. That wasn’t real. It can’t be real. They told me-”

“They. Who were they?” sneered a sharp voice with even sharper eyes.

Izuku felt like a cold bucket of water had been thrown on him. He snapped his head to look at him so fast that it made a ‘pop’ sound.

Perfect posture.

Calculated eyes.

Small body, but filled with muscle that Izuku didn’t possess anymore.

Weapons strapped to him.

Why couldn’t he leave Izuku alone? But the kid only stared at him with a mocking expression. Still, he was asking the right questions.

Who were they?

His mind was blank.

“See?” mocked the little boy, “You are remembering. They drugged you, idiot. Because you were easier to control like that.”

Izuku looked at his arms, old scars that were fully healed. Scars that no eighteen-year-old scientist who grew up in the underground should have.

He felt sick.

But his reflection gave a wicked grin at him. “You're realising how awful that lie sounds, right? They kept drugging you every day. Not only was your mind forgetting things, but your body was rotting too.

Five years of drugs will do that to you. You’re lucky you can even form sentences. Remember? We lost a lot of weight and muscle because we couldn’t digest food for months. We coughed up blood nearly every morning.”

Izuku stared at him with wide, haunted eyes. Suddenly, flashes went through his head as he fell on his knees and screamed.

Hands holding him down as they strapped him to the bed. Cold straps on his legs, wrists, and chest. A piece of cloth in his mouth so he wouldn’t bite. Pure white rage as he struggled for his freedom. A needle sinking into his skin and a voice saying, “He adjusts too quickly, increase the dose.”

All the images were gone as quickly as they came. But Izuku was still on the ground, breathing heavily and gripping his chest and the gun.

His younger self stared at him. Then, he walked to Izuku with a determined expression on his face. He grabbed Izuku’s chin, firm but not unkind. “You have to get up. If not for you, then for me,” their eyes met. “I kept us alive. It’s now your turn, Izot.”

Izuku slapped his hand roughly away, “Your name is Izot, mine is Izuku.”

His reflection had an unreadable expression on his face. “Very well, then.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Izuku shivered at that. That boy was nothing more than a hallucination, right? But the touch felt very real, too real for Izuku’s comfort. So, what was that boy?

The green-haired boy thought about what he just saw. It were definitely memories. They felt too real and raw. Izuku bit his inner cheek and just stayed on the ground.

He could end everything with a simple solution.

The gun sat heavily in Izuku’s palm. There were three bullets already loaded in the gun. One click, and all his pain will end. He could close his eyes and finally rest. Izot could get some rest, too.

No, Izuku grit his teeth. Izot was right. He needed to get up. But why? He had no reason to live.

Fuck.

Izuku got up and felt himself shake.

The boy could kill himself on another day.

He was still in yesterday's clothes and didn’t have a chance to change. His stomach was hurting too. He needed some food, and fast.

Izuku went to the bathroom and laid the gun on the sink.

He looked awful.

His green, wild curls were all over the place. The boy’s hair was a mess. Izuku looked severely underweight and needed some real food, and fast. Next, he stank. The boy grimaced at the smell. He didn’t have any spare clothes.

“In the kitchen, the third left panel.”

Izuku jumped at that as he looked around with wide eyes. But his eyes widened even more as he saw his thirteen-year-old in the mirror, looking unimpressed. “Go get them. You smell.”

Izuku was between screaming at the kid for privacy and really going to look for the clothes. He chose the second option because that was the harsh truth.

This time, you didn’t need a key. But Izuku still felt a small rush of something when he picked up the panel in the kitchen.

Bingo.

Izuku grinned when he saw clothes that were neatly folded and even a pair of sneakers, lying there waiting to be discovered. The boy picked them up, not bothering to look at what kind of clothes they were, and went to the bathroom.

The green-haired boy wasted no time undressing himself and jumping into the shower.

Woah.

What Izuku didn’t expect was that there was warm water. The boy felt all his tense muscles relax under the hot water and closed his eyes as he let the water pressure massage his shoulders and back. Then, he grabbed a soap bar and washed his scalp so thoroughly and intensely that his arms started to cramp.

When he was done. Izuku found a towel in the bathroom that looked unused and started to dry himself up.

The clothes fitted him perfectly.

There was a black long-sleeved hoodie and a green, oversized hoodie. There were wide, grew sweatpants that were too oversized. Socks and some new underwear were a nice surprise. Izuku stared at the sneakers with surprise written across his face.

They were dark with some green accents on them. But that’s not what surprised Izuku.

They were light, way too light than any shoes he owned in the underground. But a small part of them, right where the ‘air bubbles’ should be, was hollow. Instead, there was a blade hidden that, with the right click or pressure, could come loose from his shoe.

Izuku was baffled. So, he could kick someone, and under the pressure of the kick, the blade might slip from his shoe right into his opponent's face.

Noted.

Izuku still put the sneakers on. The fresh, clean clothes looked good on him. Now under further inspection, the hoodie looked water and even fireproof. There was a hidden pocket sewn specifically for his gun and an extra blade.

Izuku stopped and stared at the gun.

His gun.

Should he carry it with him? Was that a bright idea or more like a foolish one? Izuku cursed himself and slipped the gun into his pocket, but first made sure the safety clip was on.

His pants looked normal, for the most part. Izuku suspected that they were fireproof. But his pants had way too many hidden pockets inside, and the boy suspected it was for needles and blades.

With his oversized clothes, Izuku could pass as a normal eighteen-year-old.

The boy glanced at the mirror and brushed his hand through his hair. He found a pair of scissors in the kitchen and started to cut his overgrown, dead hair. His thirteen-year-old self had way too short hair. It was an Academy protocol. But in the underground, Izuku’s hair was always dirty and overgrown. The boy didn’t care that much and just tucked the hair that was in front of his face away.

Today, he was going to get rid of his disaster hair. Slowly, Izuku started to cut his hair with delicate care.

In the Academy, his hair was always forcefully trimmed, while in the underground, nobody bothered to trim Izuku’s hair. The boy couldn’t do it himself because he wasn’t allowed to have a pair of scissors in his possession. And scalpels were strictly used on his subjects.

Now, Izuku could choose what he wanted to do with his hair. It wasn’t exactly long, but not so short as in the Academy. The boy never cut his own hair. So, it was messy and uneven.

But it was Izuku.

The boy had messy layered hair; his green curls poked everywhere. But it was Izuku’s choice.

He liked it.

Izuku knew he was being watched long before he heard the footsteps.

The boy’s hair stood up as he felt his heart speed up. He was doing nothing more than his daily routine, checking if he had some food supplies somewhere hidden in the kitchen, as he sensed that someone had broken into the apartment.

It was unnerving, to say at least.

The boy bit his inner cheek as he nervously gripped his gun tightly. The safety clip was off.

It didn’t mean that Izuku wanted to kill someone.

The boy had some mixed thoughts about the whole situation. Perhaps it was a homeless person seeking shelter? But, no, he knew that it were Father’s men or the police.

Izuku kind of hoped it were the police officers. He felt himself tremble if he thought about his Father.

Learning that his whole life had been a lie since this morning was rough. The pain was real, raw, and it stung.

The more the boy thought about it, the more real everything felt. Simply put, Izuku was deeply hurt. Because he was drugged and lied for five whole years.

Right now, Izuku was hiding behind the wardrobe. Gun in hand. Observing and waiting.

The boy was already nervous, but when he heard two familiar voices, his heart nearly exploded.

Jinu and Rokisu.

Definitely his Father’s men, and they were on the dangerous side.

Jinu’s quirk was dangerous if used rightly. Anything he touches with his fingertips starts to heat- and sparks, a lot of sparks. After two or three seconds, anything he touched with his fingertips exploded. The more surface the object had, the bigger and stronger the explosion.

Izuku grimaced. If Jinu touched him, it would burn his skin off, but he wouldn’t explode.

Rokisu’s quirk was tricky. He could drain anyone’s physical energy from within two meters. The man took that energy, and that’s why he had so much raw power. He left his victims feeling weak and dizzy.

Simply put, the situation didn’t look good.

Fuck.

His first instinct was to escape. But Izuku had a feeling that they had set up traps for the window and the door. Jinu loved to set up traps with his explosive behavior. His only choice was the rooftop.

How was Izuku so stupid?

He let himself be cornered.

“I’m telling you that brat is here,” snorted Juni. “Can you believe that? We were sent to get him back as if he didn’t have anything else to do.” His tone held annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

But he started to take his gloves off.

Rokisu didn’t reply, but he narrowed his eyes as he looked around. “Fuck, this place is nasty.”

They were way too close to Izuku’s hiding spot. The boy closed his eyes as a wave of fear washed over him. If Rokisu came even a bit closer, he would feel the boy’s presence.

Shit.

This was bad.

How did they know his location? Izuku had been careful.

Izuku didn’t want to go back. That much was clear, but there wouldn’t be so much choice left if they were going to take him with them by force.

Dubbel fuck.

Words couldn’t describe how Izuku felt.

“Relax,” snarled Izot next to him, who was also kneeling. But he had a weirdly calm expression and a gleam in his eyes. No thirteen-year-old should be so relaxed in a situation like this. But Izot wasn’t an average teenage boy.

Izuku nearly screamed in surprise, but bit his tongue instead.

He was half-used with his reflection coming and going back and forth.

“You have a gun with exactly three bullets. This is more than enough.” When Izuku looked like he might argue, the boy waved him off. “Look at their quirks, this won’t be a hand-to-hand combat. So, that gun is your best chance.”

Izuku nodded slowly.

That sounded right.

Then, the little boy gave the older one a cruel smirk, “The best defense is attack, remember?” And like that, the boy pushed Izuku up on his feet with unnecessary force.

The two men noticed him instantly.

Fuck.

Izuku heard small pops crackle like firecrackers and let out a string of curses. He had just enough time to duck before sparks burst through the pipes.

The boy inhaled through his teeth. He had three bullets and two targets; Izuku could make it.

He saw Jinu grin, wicked and amused. Izuku ducked behind the couch just as a snapping sound of cracks destroyed the wardrobe. Pieces of wood and splinters were scattered all over the place.

Jinu and Rokisu were toying with him.

Good.

Izuku had a small chance then if they weren’t taking him seriously.

“You don’t have to be so difficult,” muttered Rokisu. “You know they want you back alive.”

“Yes,” grinned Jinu with his sharp teeth. “Alive, not whole.”

The boy flinched at that. Izuku swallowed hard as he gripped his gun in a bruising manner. They were coming closer. This wasn’t good.

He forced himself forward, stumbling up the narrow stairwell. Jinu cackled an ugly laugh as he sent small explosions across the walls of the stairwell. Izuku heard himself scream and climbed the stairs faster.

Finally, the boy was on the roof. But not without Jinu and Rokisu fast on his heels.

Jinu looked thrilled. Like a cat playing with its food. While Rokisu looked somewhat bored.

Izuku looked around and was ready to run, but felt a sharp pain in his leg. When he looked down, it was bleeding, and the boy prayed that it wasn’t infected.

But he couldn’t stop here.

His body was still in recovery. His ribs still hurt, and Izuku felt his leg screaming at him to sit, but he couldn’t afford to do that.

Three bullets.

Focus.

Rokisu rolled his shoulders with a yawn, “I always wanted to beat you up with your smart mouth, brat.”

Izuku felt like suffocating. But he forced himself to breathe even if his legs shook.

At least he didn’t drop the gun.

The boy lifted the gun with shaking hands.

He couldn’t let Jinu or Rokisu come closer, even for a bit. Izuku would definitely lose. Running wasn’t an option. The two men were way faster than the boy.

Jinu seemed to have had enough with waiting.

He lunged at Izuku with wild speed and sparking hands. The boy tried to jump away, but was too slow. A burst of flame exploded at his feet, knocking Izuku off balance as he fell hard on the floor.

“Too fucking slow,” mocked Jinu.

Izuku gritted his teeth-

And fired.

The bullet grazed the man’s thigh. Jinu hissed loudly with a pained expression.

Rokisu appeared behind the boy, and Izuku jumped to his feet. Since when did he sneak so close to the boy? He didn’t see him.

But he felt his quirk. Izuku’s breath hitched as he felt his strength being drained from him. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, and he felt his legs grow weak.

But he couldn’t afford to lose.

Izuku scrambled a few feet away from them as he leaned on a rusted air conditioning unit with blood dripping from his body.

One bullet wasted.

Two bullets left.

Rokisu seemed to check on Jinu as the man hissed angrily and held his thigh. Maybe this was Izuku’s chance to escape. But Jinu raised his head and glared right at the boy.

Shit.

“They have a pattern, look. One rushes. One follows. Separate them, Izuku,” whispered the thirteen-year-old inside his skull.

Right.

Izuku took a deep breath, gripped the gun tighter than ever, and- moved.

His whole body screamed, his lungs were on fire, and his vision blurred.

Jinu took the bait.

What a fool.

“You little rat!” yelled Jinu as he chased the boy recklessly fast.

Rokisu was behind him, slower but with confidence.

Izuku stopped suddenly and sharply turned.

He raised the gun with a glare- and fired.

The bullet hit Jinu in the head.

There was a sick second where Izuku could see the blood flying from his skull and the man hitting the ground.

Rokisu froze as he looked at Jinu, who was now a lying corpse on the ground, and screamed.

Izuku had a clear target.

This was his chance to put a bullet into Rokisu’s skill.

He raised his gun, but didn’t pull the trigger.

Couldn’t.

Instead, Izuku ran.

He ran on the rooftops while his mind was freaking out.

He killed Jinu. Izuku just took a life with his own hands. Fuck.

He couldn’t stop running. Not when he felt tears start to form in his eyes and felt the exhaustion kicking in. He just needed to get away.

Away from Rokisu’s screams as he mourned for his fallen friend.

Just what had Izuku done?

Izuku doesn’t know how he feels about killing that man. The boy couldn’t believe that Jinu was dead. Even if he saw him bleed out before him.

It was unreal.

Izuku let out a shaky breath and looked up to the sky. It was already nighttime. Fuck. He couldn’t go back. Father had probably already sent more men to get him. But his spare clothes and shoes were still there.

The boy bit his inner cheek as he nervously looked around. Like someone would jump out of the shadows.

It was a possibility.

Izuku wandered around with wide eyes. It was over for him. He lost his place. And now Father won’t rest until he is back.

His body was screaming for rest, but the boy couldn’t allow it. Izuku knew he needed to treat his injuries. It was just too dangerous at the moment. But adrenaline was wearing off, and the boy could feel burn wounds all over his body. His leg was the worst, but he could move.

That was enough.

He needed to run. Further away. The freckled one considered moving to America. Izuku could try to blend in there. The boy could try to dye his hair and-

“No way.”

Izuku’s training kicked in; his body reacted faster than his mind did.

He raised the gun with narrowed eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

But the stranger moved faster than Izuku ever did.

He slammed the freckled one into the wall. Izuku gasped as his arm was twisted behind his back, sharp pain lancing through his shoulder as he cried out. But the stranger wasn’t done yet; he rammed his knee into the back of Izuku’s thigh, pinning him against the wall roughly.

Izuku glanced behind his back as he gripped his gun tighter in his hands with gritted teeth-

But the stranger twisted his arm even harder- pain shot through Izuku’s body as he held back a scream- and dropped the gun in the process.

Izuku felt the hot breath behind his ear; the stranger’s voice was deep and full with uncontrolled anger. “Five years missing and this is how you greet me?”

The boy froze.

Izuku took a deep, steady breath. Trying to calm himself down and not think about the pain.

The stranger knew him.

How? Izuku didn’t even get a good look at him. But he was speaking to the boy like they had history. And it seemed to be bad history.

Could he pick up the gun again? Maybe, if Izuku could distract him enough to lessen his grip. He had one bullet left, and that could do it. That seemed to be right.

But just when Izuku was ready to swing his head back, giving the stranger a full swing, his grip tightened.

“Try pulling that gun on me again, and I swear, I'll blow your damn arm off.”

That didn’t seem to be an empty threat. Izuku nodded stiffly as he felt the stranger's hot breath on his neck. They stood there for a few seconds before the stranger let him go and took a few steps back.

Not before kicking the gun again further into the alley.

Izuku spun around with wide eyes.

Before him stood a blond, sharp-eyed, even sharper presence- and Izuku felt a bolt of fear. The boy knew he was staring at someone dangerous, important, someone he should've known. But the stranger stared at him like he was a miracle and a curse.

“What the fuck? How are you alive?”

Izuku opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. What was happening? The boy didn’t know him.

The blond seemed to struggle with his own emotions. Like he didn’t know which one to pick. Finally, after a moment of struggle, anger seemed to win.

“So, what? You decided to come back after five years, all bloodied and mute? Can’t you talk? Talk, damnit!”

The stranger marched to Izuku and grabbed the collar of his hoodie, slamming him into the wall yet again.

Izuku grabbed the stranger's wrists, trying to escape his grip. But after fighting the two other men and running all bloodied and bruised, he didn’t have that much energy left.

But the stranger wasn’t having it either.

He just grabbed his hoodie tighter and slammed him all over again into the wall. This time, it was so hard that it knocked all breath from Izuku’s lungs. The boy felt blood drip from the back of his head and felt sick.

“Can’t talk, huh? Fucking idiot. You think you can march into my life just like that? After five whole years! I thought you died!”

Izuku winced at that. His voice was loud and echoed through the whole alley. Surely, the boy couldn’t forget someone so damn loud?

“Talk. Answer me! Where were you?”

The freckled one glanced at his gun on the ground. That was his first mistake. Because the blond noticed it too and bared his teeth at the boy. “You were sent to kill me, huh? Are you out of your damn mind?”

Izuku was done. He was bleeding out in multiple places and felt burn wounds all around his body. His ribs didn’t even have enough time to heal, and his head was spinning around. Izuku might die here.

His second mistake was staying quiet. Because the blond only got madder as his face twisted into an ugly glare. “Fucking talk! Or I swear, I will kill you right now. I don’t have time for you.”

Izuku felt heat coming from his hands, steady and dangerously. Now, as the boy looked at the stranger and they were standing so close, Izuku might have thought that they were about to kiss.

What an odd thing to think.

“I,” started Izuku, “I don't know anything. Okay? I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry. I’m not here to kill you, alright? So, please, let go of me.” His voice came out shakingly and unsure.

The blond considered his words carefully, and his grip became more open. The freckled one relaxed just for a bit. It looked like it was too much of a process; maybe it was. Izuku saw various emotions pass through the blond’s head. But he chose anger yet again.

“Don’t fuck with me! You got it? Don’t play pretend and all innocent like you always do! It won’t work on me,” the blond snapped. His grip tightened painfully, and Izuku cried out. Now, the green-haired was on his tiptoes, his whole body was trembling.

But Izuku wasn’t playing too. He just survived Father’s men, and he wouldn’t let himself be beaten by this blond. The boy picked up all his bravery and spat on the stranger’s face with a smug expression.

The blond seemed to be in such shock that he let Izuku go. Big mistake. Izuku kicked himself from the wall and was ready to punch the blond in his face.

The stranger wasn’t fazed at all. If what, he looked somewhat unimpressed and disappointed.

He caught Izuku’s fist with ease. The blond just didn’t expect that the freckled one would throw his whole body at him. They both fell as they rolled in the dirty alley with angry snarls at each other.

The blond was taller and stronger than Izuku. Obviously. He seemed to have a good diet and worked out every day. Far cry from Izuku, who spent his days in the lab or sleeping, maybe even getting high with Shun.

But Izuku was stubborn. The boy even bit the stranger’s arm when he tried to pin the freckled one down. But the exhaustion and blood loss seemed to catch up to Izuku. He was just so damn tired.

Although he couldn’t lose without a last kick. Izuku tried to claw the blond’s eyes out with a shout, but the stranger caught his arms and jumped to his feet.

There was a minute where they just stared at each other.

Finally, Izuku got a good look at the stranger. He had spiky blond hair with red, sharp eyes that glared down at Izuku with judgment. He was wearing a school uniform, his red tie tied loosely and incorrectly. Definitely on purpose. The green-haired boy could see the muscle through his uniform. Now, up close, Izuku could see hearing aids in his ears and wondered if he had gotten these from birth.

The blond was staring at Izuku.

Expecting something.

But Izuku didn’t know what. And he was way too tired from this. Sure, he kinda remembered the Academy. If that was what the boy referred. But it were only pieces. Never a real memory. Just fragments that his broken mind tried to form.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone here, alright? And I didn’t lie about not remembering anything. I really don’t know. I’m sorry.”

The blond didn’t move. He didn’t react. Just kept staring at him with these sharp, red eyes.

For an uncomfortable minute, Izuku debated whether he could just run away and never look back.

The blond’s face twisted- not with sadness- but with pure outrage. Like, Izuku personally insulted his whole family tree.

“What did you just say?” he snapped. For an awkward second, Izuku thought his hearing aids weren’t fully working. “Don’t screw with me. Not right now. Five years. Five damn years- and this is how you show up? Limping and bleeding, whole spitting on me?”

Izuku wanted to apologize yet again. But it wouldn’t change anything. But he still wanted to do that, this time on his feet and properly. With shaking legs, he managed to find balance and stand up. Even if his whole body was screaming in agony. He managed to bow, keeping his head low. “I’m sorry-”

Just like that, Izuku felt himself being shoved to the ground, yet all over again. He moaned a pained groan. Fuck.

“I don’t want to hear it! No, you don’t get that! You don’t get to walk around his face and tell me you don’t remember me! I thought you were dead. And now you’re standing here looking at me like I’m some stranger harassing you on the street?”

Izuku swallowed hard as he felt his vision getting blurry, “I’m trying. I swear-”

The blond silenced him with a sharp glare, “Try harder, then.”

He stared at Izuku with his chest rising and falling, anger burning so hot that the freckled one could feel the heat radiating off of him. Was this his quirk?

“Just say something that proves you’re still in here. That they didn’t wipe all of you. I have to know. Anything. A name. A code. One fucking thing.”

His voice was slowly getting desperate.

“Kazyuki.”

Izuku didn’t know where that name came from. The name felt familiar on his tongue. His heart ached when he spoke the name. He spoke the name with a delicate care as if he was saying a prayer.

The blond went still. His hands were shaking, and he looked at Izuku with an unreadable expression. He nodded and whispered with a trembling voice, “It’s Katsuki now. Katsuki Bagugo.”

They stared at each other for another moment before Katsuki walked up to him and gave him a hand. Izuku eagerly took it; he was way too tired for all this. The blond helped him to stand up.

It looked like Katsuki wanted to say something else, but Izuku paid him no mind and went straight to his gun. Still lying on the filthy ground.

Whatever history they had, it could wait. Izuku wanted nothing more than to clean himself up and take a nap.

Just when Izuku grabbed his gun from the ground and was ready to flee from the whole scene, he suddenly saw it.

He let out a silent scream as he stumbled backward with panic clogging his mind. Katsuki was just in time to hold Izuku’s arm before the boy fell to the ground in horror.

But the blond saw it too. He didn’t release Izuku’s arm, but held it tighter instead.

A human shape behind the dumpsters.

No blood.

No smell of gore.

Just a body that was cut clean. Too clean.

Bakugou pushed Izuku behind him as he was already scanning the situation. “Stay behind me.”

Izuku felt cold dread wash over him as he stared at the body. It felt like looking at Jinu. Fuck. “Don’t tell me what the fuck I need to do,” he muttered as he took a step closer. Inspecting the body with the gun tightly in his hands.

Cutting corpses open was his job after all.

The blond ignored his comment and crunched close enough to inspect with narrowed eyes.

They heard a click, so quiet that a normal person wouldn’t even hear it. But they were both trained.

Their head snapped to the sound and met Stain. Standing on the fire escape and looking down at them. He was unblinking and looked at the boys with interest.

Fuck.

Izuku was already bloodied and beaten up. He didn’t have enough energy for this. His ribs hurt as his body screamed, and he gripped the gun so tight that his hand started to bleed. His leg was screaming for a rest, and Izuku felt his body shake from pure adrenaline and exhaustion, yet all over again. There was just so much that a body could take.

He just wanted to collapse. To give up. Three fights in a day seemed to be too much. Izuku didn’t have any energy left to spare. But the boy was still standing. If he was going to die, then the least Izuku could do for Izot is die on his feet with some honour left.

In the underground, there were a lot of nasty rumors about this man. It was no secret that everyone held fear and respect for Stain.

“Two Academy experiments... I’ll end you together.”

Katsuki’s body tensed too. He was trembeling. At first, Izuku thought he was scared, too. But when the boy saw his face, there was a pure, manic grin on it.

“Let’s fucking kill him, Izot.”

Izuku felt like his heart might jump out of his chest. His fingers shook, but he held his gun tight. There was no time for self-pity.

Bakugo cracked a grin as he blasted forward, explosions snapping sharply from his palms. Izuku felt his mouth fall on the ground. So, this was his quirk? That was so cool. Unlike the wild chaos Katuski was, his movements were tight and efficient- each blast calculated and sharp.

Stain wasted no time dodging with terrifying speed. Izuku froze as his fingers tightened around the gun.

One bullet.

His body felt fragile, almost hollow. He was thin, underpowered, and his muscles burned. But he was fast. Maybe not so fast as Bakugo, but just fast enough.

Stain lunged for Bakugo, blade flashing.

Katsuki dodged the blade as he rolled on the ground. Izuku could only gape at what was happening in front of him. Bakugo wasted no time in shooting an explosion at Stain; the man jumped away with a snark.

The two of them were participating in an elegant, deadly dance.

Izuku could only stare with wide eyes.

Katuski stumbled, just one step, but that was enough for Stain. The man could make a tiny cut on his forearm and fucking- licked his katana.

Izuku stared with a gaze of disgust at the killer. What did he just see? And if that wasn’t weird enough, Bakugo fell on the ground. Stain smirked wickedly. He lifted his katana to end the boy and-

Izuku pulled the trigger.

The man jumped away, pissed. Izuku felt cold sweat all over him. He missed. The green-haired boy felt a manic laugh escape him.

They lost.

Izuku wasted his only bullet.

Stain bared his teeth at the boy. He walked over to Katsuki, slow and almost tauntingly. The freckled one knew he should do something. But his body was frozen.

“Do something, you coward!” hissed Izot with fury on his face. Standing next to Stain and Bakugo with a hardened look.

Something in Izuku snapped into action as he saw his reflection staring into his soul.

The green-haired activated his quirk.

His quirk wasn’t flashy.

It didn’t give him power. It took it away.

Izuku’s ability reacted to other people’s quirks. When someone tried to use theirs, his quirk answered by turning that power inwards.

Not copying it.

Not cancelling it.

Punishing it.

Izuku knew this because he tested it. Carefully and fearfully.

And every time, it hurt him too.

Stain's body reacted violently against itself. His muscles seized, joints stiffening as if they refused to cooperate. His hands locked up, fingers numb and unresponsive. It wasn’t pain like an injury - it was the body rejecting its own strength.

Stain hissed. “What is this-?”

Izuku felt it too. His vision blurred  as his quirk always drained him fast. His limbs felt lighter than they should, like they might snap if he moved wrong.

But Bakugo was on his feet.

That was enough.

Izuku collapsed at the same time as Stain in sync. The blond looked angrier than normal as he walked to the killer, sparks flying from his hands. “You are dead.”

The Hero Killer seemed to realise in what position he was. Stain gripped his katana tighter as he glared at the two boys, “Next time, I won’t hold back.” And just like that, he vanished like a ninja in the dark shadows.

Bakugo seemed like he was ready to chase Stain. But stopped. The blond slowly turned around, facing Izuku, who was still on the ground. The freckled one looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. What did this Katsuki Bakugo even want? Was it smart to just lie there while the blond stared at Izuku with an unreadable expression?

Izuku’s vision blurred again. Then, Bakugo was in front of the boy, saying something. When did he get here? The freckled one tilted his head in confusion. The blonde’s lips were moving, saying something, but Izuku couldn’t figure out what. The only thing he heard was a ringing sound in his ears.

Izuku felt something dripping from his head. Slowly, he lifted his hand to the back of his head. It was blood.

Right.

His head was bleeding.

“-an you hear me now? Izot. Don’t look at the blood. Can you hear me?”

Yes. Izuku nodded weakly. “Not Izot.”

Katsuki paused at that, “What? You are confusing me. Speak in full sentences.”

“I’m not Izot.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Because the blond was no longer kneeling by Izuku, but standing and glaring at him. “Fine. Play your games. What’s your name now?”

“Izuku.”

“Izuku, what?”

“Just Izuku.”

Katsuki stared at him like he was an idiot. Maybe he was one.

Katsuki yanked Izuku upright, slinging one of Izuku’s arms around his own neck while his other arm wrapped firmly around Izuku’s waist. It was awkward—Izuku was all sharp angles and unsteady weight, and Katsuki was taller, forcing him to hunch slightly to keep Izuku from tipping over—but it worked.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Katsuki muttered.

Izuku nodded weakly, letting himself be dragged along as they started moving, their steps uneven but steady enough to get them going.

“Where are we going?” asked Izuku as he looked at the sky. There were stars; the boy made it his own mission to count them all.

Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he looked straight forward. His grip was tight- but not painful. He was covered in mud, and his uniform was messy.

“Where were you?”

Izuku blinked slowly, “What?”

“Where were you? Five years passed. You look like you’re on the doorstep of death herself, and not in a good way,” Bakugo paused, he licked his dry lips. “You changed.”

“Five years passed? So, the last time that we saw each other, we were thirteen, right?”

Katsuki looked somewhat lost. “Yes.”

“That’s the age we graduated from the Academy. So, we were in the same class?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty-three to three. Where is the other one?”

At that, the blond stilled. He looked at Izuku with a haunting expression. “I hate you.” There was no real heat behind his words, but Izuku felt a sharp pain in his chest. He pushed the feeling down, not ready to deal with it.

“Why?” his voice was not louder than a whisper. Izuku decided they weren’t close enough for these emotions. This conversation held something deeper than it already was. Izuku thought that they weren’t that close for this conversation, but Bakugo thought otherwise.

“Because I have no place for you in my life. I moved on. I decided to make my own path in life, and such bullshit. Understood? You’re not part of it. I’m in my last year of the hero course. You can’t come after five whole years in my life and expect me to make room for you.”

Izuku was staring with wide eyes at Katsuki. His face didn’t look familiar, not one bit. But his voice did the trick. The boy recognised the way his loud, booming voice carried through the alleys. “I understand.”

But in reality, he didn’t. Why was Bakugo speaking to Izuku like they were close? Like, this information was supposed to hurt the boy? Don’t get the freckled one wrong.

He was hurt.

It wasn’t his lungs that burned. His body trembled because he overused his strength and quirk. It wasn’t his bleeding head or his bloodied hands from gripping the gun too tightly. The burns that he got from Jinu.

No.

It was a different kind of pain.

It was on a deeper level. But Izuku couldn’t name it.

Katsuki grit his teeth, “Why am I even bothering? You don’t remember shit.” He let out a single, broken laugh that carried through the alley. “They really fucked you up on this one, nerd.”

Izuku didn’t agree or disagree.

“What did they even do to you?” This time, their eyes met. Izuku reeled back, not expecting so much fury in his glare. But Bakugu paid no mind. “They were supposed to kill you for the stunt you pulled. But, I suppose you were their favourite. It would be a shame to dispose you like that.”

Izuku’s steps faltered.

Bakugo gave the boy a long look. “I wished you had died.”

The words landed clean. No heat. No hesitation.

Izuku turned slowly. “Listen—”

“Don’t.” Bakugo’s hands shook, clenched at his sides. “Don’t you dare soften it.”
His teeth grit. “You surviving didn’t save you. It ruined you.”

Silence presses in.

Izuku bit his inner cheek. “Just what sort of bond did we have in the Academy?”

“Rivals,” grumbled the blonde, “You were my rival.”

Bakugo’s place was not what Izuku expected. He expected to find clothes on the ground and food scattered all over his place. What he didn’t expect was that everything was extremely neat and tidy. The green-haired looked around with an intense interest.

It was already past midnight when they arrived at his place. They walked slowly because of Izuku, but also to not get caught. The two of them were exhausted.

“This is not my house,” muttered Bakugo as he took a glass of water in the kitchen. Izuku nodded. That explained why this building was also in an alley, but it looked better than Izuku’s previous place. It didn’t look like it was on the verge of collapsing.

Were there some secret weapons hidden that Izuku wasn’t aware of?

The boy limped to the kitchen, too, not caring if the floor was getting dirty with mud or blood. He mirrored the blond and grabbed some water as well. Drinking it greedily. Not caring if that water spilled on the ground. Bakugo looked at Izuku with disgust, but the boy didn’t care at all. He wasn’t done with only one glass; the green-haired grabbed a second and even a third glass of water.

When he was done, Izuku collapsed on the kitchen floor. All the adrenaline left the boy’s body. Fuck. What now? He escaped Father’s men today, but could he do it again?

His thoughts were cut off by the blond who threw an aid kit at him. Izuku’s eyes snapped at Bakugo, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else than here. Without a word, Izuku opened the kit and started to clean and bandage his wounds.

Izuku didn’t know how much time had passed. He didn’t have the energy to ask for new clothes, so he just put his old ones on again. When he was done, the green-haired had no energy to get up. His eyes became heavy, and Izuku realised he could use a nap.

“Let’s make a deal.” The blond was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had an angry glare on his face and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. Was he here the whole time?

Izuku nodded. He didn’t know what to expect.

“I don’t know who is after you or what they want. But don’t you dare to bring that trouble to me. I have a new life, one where you aren’t part of it. But I owned you, so here you go. This apartment is yours. Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care. Just don’t be in my way anymore.”

Just like that, the blond threw Izuku’s gun to the boy. It glided on the ground right to the boy. And without another word, the blond walked out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Izuku stared at the door for a long time. He didn’t know when, but somewhere between staring at the door and holding the gun, he fell into a restless sleep.

Aizawa was leaping from one building to the other with unmatched grace. It was like his second nature for him. It came as easily as breathing.

He stopped at the edge of the building and took a deep breath with his eyes closed. There was just so much going on in his life. Aizawa needed a break and some good sleep. But could he really do such a thing? Knowing his nephew was there somewhere.

Or maybe not. Maybe he was already too late, and his nephew was lying dead somewhere in a dirty alley.

These plagued him like a disease. Guilt filled his soul so much that his own students asked him to take care of himself. But how could he? Aizawa felt like he had failed his older sister in every aspect that he could.

Somewhere, her son was hurt and maybe dead. The only thing that she wanted was for her child would grow up healthy and loved. Aizawa rubbed his eyes with his hand tiredly. She wouldn’t want him to get burned out.

But Hawks was the pillar opposite of Aizawa. The man insisted that Izuku was fine.

Izuku, the name tasted sickly sweet on the man’s tongue. Aizawa shook his head gently. He needed to focus.

Shit. He needed to stop with his own research for a week. Aizawa gritted his teeth as he stared at the city in front of him. The man needed to let the research rest on the police.

He and his class needed to go to the yearly Forest Training Camp. Aizawa groaned in his hands, annoyed. He hated it every year with a passion.

Izuku was never alone these days. Izot made it his own personal goal to follow him around and report every single thing he did wrong. The small boy had the most stubborn expression that Izuku had ever seen. It annoyed him to no end.

Izuku would never admit it to a soul, but he thought it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t lonely. If he were, the green-haired boy would simply go crazy.

“You are going to end us both,” observed Izot with narrowed eyes.

Izuku rolled with his eyes, “Relax.”

That wasn’t enough for the smaller boy. Because he looked Izuku up and down with sharp, calculated eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

Izuku felt annoyance creeping up on him. Really, it wasn’t hard. He was hurt. His body screamed the whole time, and every time Izuku wanted to take some painkillers, Izot started to scream in his ear the word, ‘addict’. So, he just faced the pain raw. “Listen,” the green-haired turned to the smaller boy, “I’m just boiling some pasta. How can you have so many comments on it?”

“Because you're doing it wrong.”

Izuku rolled his eyes for who-knows-how-many times again. “If you know so much, you can make it.”

Izot snapped his mouth shut. But still glared daggers at Izuku. It was almost funny, seeing someone standing in such a perfect posture and looking like an angry kitten.

Izuku didn’t know what he was doing either. But just boiling some pasta wasn’t hard at all. And besides, he was starving. The freckled one would eat almost anything.

He had taken a shower and changed into some spare clothes that were in the closet. Just a black shirt with some sweatpants that were somewhat too baggy on Izuku. His locket rested heavily under the shirt. His hair looked funny. An untamed mess with uneven bangs. Izot stared at Izuku’s hair like it was a personal insult.

Izuku snorted. The kid could be somewhat funny, even if he didn’t mean to be.

When his pasta was done, the boy ate it hungrily. It was just dry pasta without any sauce. But it tasted like heaven to the boy.

Izot stared at Izuku with an unreadable look. “You have no manners.”

“Didn’t ask. Don’t care.”

The boy looked like he might shoot Izuku right here and there. About shooting, Izuku glanced at his gun. He had no bullets left. Shit. Maybe he could look around this place and find something? It was an option. Without his gun, he didn’t have any other way to defend himself, well-

His quirk.

But that wasn’t an option. Izuku could still feel his own body twitching in pain when he used it on Stain. Every time he used it, the green-haired felt like dying. His quirk was no good if Izuku couldn’t even stand up after.

Speaking about yesterday-

“Kazyuki,” breathed Izuku. “What do you know about him? Tell me, everything.”

Izot shot a glare. “Dismissed. Next question.”

“Hold on. He said his name was Bakugo Katsuki, but you know him as Kazyuki. Tell me.”

When Izot didn’t respond and just kept glaring at Izuku, the taller one pressed harder. “C’mon, tell me. I want to know more.”

“You could have asked him yesterday.”

“Ah, of course. I needed to do that when I was bleeding out and barely conscious.”

“Shut it,” snapped Izot with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Izuku glanced at his gun. “He was in our class. Kazyuki not only graduated from the Academy, but he also escaped. He said that we were rivals back in the Academy, if I remember correctly. Was that true?”

Izot only stared at Izuku with a tight expression on his face.

“He thought that we were dead. Kazyuki- Katsuki- whatever his name is, believed that we died. He said that we pulled a ‘big stunt’ or something like that. Did we do something?”

There was a tense silence. Just when Izuku thought that Izot wouldn’t answer, the boy started to talk. “We did what we needed to survive. That’s the most important thing. But,” Izot smirked with mischief, “I didn’t expect him to react like that when he saw us. Can’t believe he’s roaming the streets of Japan like this.”

“He didn’t seem to be happy when he saw us.”

Izot tilted his head, “Meh. He’s just being all petty.” The boy didn’t give a further explanation. Izuku frowned at that while propping pasta in his mouth.

When he was done, Izuku stared at the gun. “Izot. Tell me, do you think there are some hidden weapons that we could use in this apartment?”