Izuku packs away his analysis notebook number seven into his backpack before carefully climbing his way down the tall oak tree in the middle of the park he was at. It was only a ten minute walk from his house and mom and dad weren't expecting him to be home from "playing with his friend's" for another hour when the sun would be gone for the day.
Ever since he made it to his double digits he was given a bit more leeway on when he was supposed to be home. It went from "come directly home after school, Baby" to "you have to be home by the time the streetlights come on, Sweetheart". He, mom and dad had sat down for a good two hours on his tenth birthday and set out new house rules. Something that he deeply appreciated and respected every rule to the 'T'. He couldn't be irresponsible and have any of his newfound freedom taken back.
It's been two years and he hasn't broken or tested the limits of any of the new house rules. He was always home before the street lights came on. He did all his homework before it needed to be handed in. He didn't start any fights. Only used his flip phone for emergencies and made sure to keep his room clean. He was given more chores like helping with his laundry and cleaning up the bathroom on his designated days. Helped make dinner with mom and dad every other day and helped with their weekly "lets do a general clean up of the house" on Sundays.
All in all he felt more like a "big kid" with all his new responsibilities.
He took a look down under him and decided to just jump down the last four feet off the last branch he was on. He looked up to the sky and knew he was cutting it close to when he normally gets home. Kacchan had kept up his pursuit longer than usual today and that put a screwdriver into his schedule.
Thankfully though, the blonde had only been able to put a small burn on his upper arm. It was easy to hide from his parents and didn't hurt nearly as bad as any of the previous burns and cuts he'd received from Kacchan and his "friends".
Izuku dusted himself off and adjusted his school uniform to make sure everything that needed to be covered was properly so. Nodding to himself in satisfaction he begins his short walk home.
He only had to survive two more days of school before he could enjoy his summer vacation and prepare himself mentally for his new school.
For middle school.
For possibly being outed as quirkless on the first day like usual.
For the inevitable new slew of bullies.
New insults and old insults.
He'll probably have to come up with new ways to hide the burns and cuts he knows he's going to receive because everyone was finally starting to fine tune their quirks and make them more powerful and effective. He just doesn't have it in him to worry his mom or dad any more than he knows they already are for him. He may only be Twelve but he knows what he sees in his parents eyes every night when he walks through the front door.
The relief that washes over both of their shoulders and the worry that drains from their eyes when they see he has all his limbs in tact.
See that he's survived another day in this world without a quirk to help him.
Two more days and he'll be able to get a small reprieve from his daily "cardio training" as he's begun to call it. What else would he call the several miles he runs to school, from school, to the park, from the park, around the park, and then back home while being chased by the equivalent of four rabid dogs?
Probably "running from bullies" but he personally wanted to shake things up from his usual wording. Sue him.
He looks both ways up the one way street, he doesn't trust the general population with literally anything including one way streets, before crossing to the sidewalk that would lead straight to his home. Maybe he could stop in the 7-Eleven and grab a strawberry milk? Maybe some milk bread?
As he's contemplating if he wants to risk the detour for his snacks, he thinks he hears some low whispers. He stops his leisure pace to listen closer. He strains his ears for any indication that he wasn't actually hearing things, but hears nothing.
Not a peep.
"Little paranoid are we Iz? Probably just heard yourself again." He tells himself, picking his pace back up. He finally decides that yes, he'll chance the detour and get his snacks. He steps into the small convenience store and quickly finds what he was looking for. Making sure he has enough money before stepping in line, he decides that it would probably be good to call one of his parents to let them know that he is indeed on his way home and just stopped to get a small snack.
Slipping his wallet back into his pocket, he exchanges it for his phone and dials his dad's number. It only takes two rings before his dad's voice flows through the speaker.
"Izzy? Are you okay?" His dad's voice was firm but worried. He understands though. The last time Izuku had called him, his arm was broken.
"I'm okay, dad. I just know that it's getting close to when I'm supposed to be home and didn't want you or mom worrying. " He heard his dad let out a heavy sigh.
"Okay. Okay, good. I'm glad that's the case, buddy. What's up then? Where are you?" Thankfully the worry took a backseat in his dad's voice and was replaced with a curious tone.
He couldn't exactly tell his dad that he'd been running from Kacchan all afternoon, so he went with a "not a lie but not the truth either". "It had taken a little longer than usual to clean up class today since there was a project we worked on. I'm on my way home, but I stopped for some milk bread and strawberry milk down the street. I should be home in maybe ten minutes!"
His dad gave a slight chuckle and he could just see his dad shaking his head. "Sounds good my little energizer bunny. I'll let your mom know okay? Thank you for letting us know though. I'm proud of you for thinking ahead and of us. Your mom and I appreciate it."
"It's no problem dad. I just didn't want you guys thinking I got hurt or anything. I don't like worrying you guys." He moves up in line and ducks his head as he admits his thoughts to his father.
"Buddy, we're always going to worry. You're our son. You mean so much more to us than you'll ever understand. Of course we're going to worry. But giving us little updates and letting us know that you're okay, does help us breathe a little easier." He doesn't know how to respond to that in any way other than tears so he just sniffles quietly and moves up one more in line. His dad knows him well and says, "I'll see you when you get home in ten minutes okay? I love you, Izzy."
"Love you too, Dad." He doesn't even attempt to hold back his smile as he ends the call and slides his phone into his back pocket.
He's finally made it to the cashier and quickly pays for his items. Taking his receipt and refusing a bag he makes his way out the door, excited to get home and clean the grim of the day off of him.
He's half way opened his milk bread, nearly salivating at his first bit of food of the day, when he's stopped dead in his tracks.
It was whispering.
It was the same whispering voice as before.
It was close.
Steeling his nerves he looks to his left to find a pair of eyes staring at him.
Staring at him with an intensity that had his heart leaping out his chest.
He couldn't move, paralyzed in fear.
When he finally found it in him to MOVE he finds his feet glued to the concrete under him. His mind gets sent into overdrive as he drops everything in his hands to figure out how to get away.
He frantically looks to his feet and finds that they aren't actually glued to the concrete, just slowly sinking into it. He's quick to try to wiggle his feet out of his shoes but his first step out of his shoes is quickly intercepted by the concrete making a quick lead up his ankle after swallowing his shoe whole.
He's not really able to hack his leg off so he looks for his next step in getting away from his inevitable murder.
His phone! Dad! Even if he were to scream for help right now, no one would come. Everyone in this area knew who he was. That he's quirkless. That he's not worth saving.
His only hope was his mom or dad.
He pulls his phone out and prays that the villain in front of him can't move while using his quirk.
Just as he was about to press 'dial' a hand wraps around his phone and yanks. The sound of his phone being ground underneath the villain's boot seems like a fitting sound to mimic his shattering heart.
He's going to die.
He lets out a choked sob when he's yanked into the alleyway where the villain was standing.
Tears stream down his face when his backpack is yanked off his shoulders and tossed to what seemed to be several other bags. Izuku has just enough presence of mind to note that he didn't see any bodies laying around in the alley.
Maybe he won't die?
Maybe this lady just wants his bag?
At that thought his tears slow just a bit, just enough for him to see the features of the woman's face. The scar that ran down the right side of her face, across her cheek and into her hairline by her temple. See her dark gray eyes glare at him like he did something to offend her.
Then he noticed the blood.
The blood that was splattered on her neck. That clung to the neck of her shirt.
He frantically searched what he could see of her he finds her knuckles bloody and the skin on them broken wide open. Another sob leaves him as the shred of hope he had leaves him. He's probably going to be beaten and left for dead.
His loss of hope sob seemed to piss off his assailant and he's roughly shoved into the wall behind him, making his head smack against the bricks and arm slam into the dumpster beside them.
He'd be concerned of a sprained wrist and bad bruise if he thought he'd be alive after this.
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up kid!" The hiss did the exact opposite of its intended effect and ripped another sob from his throat. "I will drown you with concrete! Shut up."
Hands were around his throat before he could cry out again. He scrambled for purchase on the woman's wrists, trying in vain to make her release her crushing grip.
Black spots were entering his vision and his lips tingled from the lack of oxygen. He tried to dig his bitten nails into the skin of her wrist but the grip around his throat only got tighter, lifting him off the ground and onto his tip toes. Kicking was futile with how weak he was feeling. He was getting tired.
This was it.
He was going to die.
He was to weak to fight back in any effective way.
Too small too be able to overpower anyone.
Never again would he get to hear his mom's laugh or his dad's corny jokes.
Won't be able to write in his notebooks or study quirks.
He'll never be able to see Kacchan pull his head out of his ass and become the amazing hero he knew the blonde could be.
He was going to die in a dark and wet ally way all because he wasn't paying attention to his surrounds like his dad was always telling him to do.
Suddenly he was on the ground and gulping air greedily. Faintly he could hear movement but he was too focused on trying to blink away the black spots to care about much else. Probably wasn't his smartest choice and he should probably try to get up and run away but he couldn't find any strength to move his limbs.
"Kid?" He flinches hard and feebly tries to back away from the voice that came from just above his kneeling form. "Kid, it's okay." He couldn't trust the voice. The person attached to it was probably just trying to get him off his guard.
He scrambles backwards and knocks into the dumpster he remembers being close by. His back makes a 'thud' and there's a moan. He can't tell if it was him or not but the soft foot steps that were coming for him passed him up so he assumes it wasn't him.
His eyes snap open when he hears plastic hitting brick. He quickly looks around and sees a man with long dark hair and a scarf looking into the dumpster he was leaning against. "Fuck." A quick hiss and then the man was jumping into the dumpster.
'What the heck was going on?' His mind scrambled for a reason as to why the man would just jump into the dumpster. With no immediate answers coming to mind he's instinctively climbing to his feet and doing a batter sweep of his surroundings.
Propped up against the wall across from him and a little ways down was the woman that was just now trying to kill him. She was wrapped in the same kind of scarf he'd seen on the dark haired man's neck. She looked like she was unconscious and there was a growing lump on her head with blood trickling down from her nose.
Determining the woman wasn't going to be hurting him again any time soon he turns his attention back to the man that dove into the dumpster.
It was entirely too tall for him to try to look into but there was a set of crates next to the dumpster that he could climb to get a better look into the oversize trashcan. He's not really thinking straight, and if he gave it more than half a second of consideration he'd have turned tail and ran. But here he was gripping onto the nasty lip of the dumpster to figure out what had the man who saved him frantic enough to jump into a literal pile of trash.
When he looks over the lip he sees the man trying to flip another man onto his side to help him heave up what looks to be concrete. Or at least that's what he was assuming. It was too dark and his mind was to hopped up on adrenaline to really give accurate observations.
What he is able to process though is the fact that he would have probably been thrown into the same dumpster to be left for dead.
At that he turns and to the side and dry heaves till there's snot and tears falling from his red hot face.
Oh he's going to need a therapist after this.
By the time he's stopped heaving, the man that saved him has the other guy he was helping, slumped over the side of the dumpster with his arms dangling on the outside of it. The man doesn't ask for help but he does throw an appreciative look to him when he simply holds onto the now unconscious man's arm so he doesn't slide back into the dumpster.
The man who saved him drags the other man out of the dumpster the rest of the way and lays him on his side next to the dumpster.
Izuku just drops to the ground from where he was perched, dazed.
"Kid, can you hear me?" The man that saved him was crouching in front of him with a hand stretched out to him wearily. He was thankful that he didn't try to touch him like he seemed to want to, even if it was just his shoulder he was poised to steady.
Izuku, still dazed, gives a nod. He's alive at least and that's what matters. Right?
"There's going to be an ambulance here in two minutes to take a look at you and maybe take you to the hospital. Think you can tell me your name?" Even if the man just saved him, Izuku doesn't know if he should really trust him with his name.
Everyone knows Midoriya Izuku. He's been registered and flagged as quirkless. His name and face was on posters to not serve and deny entry too all over Musutafu. If he tells this guy his name there's a damn good chance he won't be checked over by medical professionals.
He must take too long to answer because the man in front of him lets out a tired sigh. "I'm Pro-Hero Eraserhead if that helps you. I'm just trying to make sure you're still able to talk kid. I don't know how long she had you pi-"
"Midoriya Izuku." His throat is dry and hurts so he tries to swallow to help but it just makes the throbbing pain more prominent. He brings his hand up to his throat and flinches hard at how tender it is. Tears spring to his eyes and he decides that talking right now just wont be happening.
Eraserhead gives him an sympathetic look and says, "I know, kid. I know it hurts, but we'll get it looked at soon." He looks contemplative for a moment looking around for a moment before asking quietly, "Can I put my hands on you to help you up and out this alley way, Midoriya?"
Izuku hesitates for a moment but ultimately nods his head. He wants out of this area that most definitely traumatized him.
Eraserhead offers Izuku his hand and gently pulled him to his feet. A strong warm arm comes around his shoulder when his knees go weak under him. "I've got cha kid." Eraserhead's gruff voice assures him and all but carries him to the sidewalk where he'd been frozen at the start of all this.
He sees his milk bread and strawberry milk splattered against the ground. The heel tag of one of his shoes was barely visible in the setting concrete, but the other one was nearly completely visible. He averts his eyes from where he once stood and doesn't try to choke back the tears or sob that comes out. He doesn't have the energy to hide his emotions right now.
The arm that was around his shoulders goes to pull away but quickly pulls him into the pro's chest when Izuku gives a scared sounding sob. He didn't want to be left alone.
It's dark having his face buried in the man's scarf and chest. He takes in deep breaths to try to calm himself down because of the now throbbing headache he had. Eventually the smell of coffee, vanilla and something citrus helps him calm down.
He's absolutely exhausted by the time he pulls back from his death grip around the pro hero in front of him. There's an ambulance sitting to the right of where they stood and a police cruiser pulling away from the curb as he looks around.
"They've already taken the other victim to the hospital. There's also a detective that wants to take a statement if you're able to give one as soon as we get your parents or guardians here, okay?" Eraserhead seems to read his mind and answer the questions he had swimming in his head.
At the mention of his parents he's nodding frantically. "Can I borrow a phone? Mine was smashed..." He trails off when he realizes that his parents were probably blowing up his phone.
"Of course kid." Eraserhead took a step back from him and dug into one of the pouches on his waist to retrieve his phone. He unlocked it and brought up the dial pad before handing it over. The man took a few more steps back to give him space but was still within an elongated arms reach to let him know he was still there.
He quickly dialed his father's number. He couldn't for the life of him remember his mom's at the moment and could only see his dad's number flashing in the front of his mind at the moment.
It took two rings before his father's frantic voice picked up the line. "Hello?"
"Dad." His throat was tight with another wave of emotions. "Come down the street dad." He had to get his words out before he started crying again.
"Is that where you're at? Give me two seconds." The line went dead and Izuku looked up to hand Eraserhead back his phone.
Before he could say anything he heard heavy footsteps racing toward them. With everything that's happened tonight he tensed up but quickly dropped his shoulders and let out a cry. "Dad!" He turned and launched himself into his father's open arms.
"Oh my God, Izuku! Are you okay? What happened? You were supposed to be home twenty minutes ago! Is that blood? Is-" He tuned out his dad's rapid fire questions and just sobbed into his chest. He always knew he got his quick mind from both of his parents but his even faster mouth was all from his dad. He and his dad have some of the fastest paced conversations and they both have a habit of talking rapidly under their breathes. His mom told his that it was because there was "too much intelligence inside their heads and it overflowed sometimes".
He knew he had to cut his dad off though sooner or later and he honestly just wanted to get whatever needed to be done over with so he could go home. Taking a deep breath he calmed himself down enough to pull back from his dad's arms and speak up. "Dad."
"-think we'll have to take you to the hospital? I know the one closest are assholes but your mom will burn them to the ground in legalities if we need-"
"Dad."
"-and whoever did this to you will have the time of their life trying to get out of whatever deep pit your mom throws them into because no one touches our baby without losing a limb I swear-"
"Dad!" He brought his hands up and bring them together fast and hard on his father's cheeks to bring him back from his spiral.
That did the trick. He had his father's full attention now.
"Dad. I was attacked but Eraserhead saved me. I lost my socks, shoes, phone and snacks but I'm alive. I'll be okay. I think. I just want to get this all over with so we can go home." He was suddenly extremely tired and could hear his bed calling him from down the street.
His dad audibly swallowed down the rest of his questions and nodded. Being lifted into his dad's arms he felt himself being carried somewhere.
The metal of the ambulance was cold under his thigh and it gave him a bit of a jolt. Looking around he found there were two paramedics getting together supplies to do a general check over.
Thankfully it only took maybe ten minutes before they were telling him he'd just need to be careful with how much he talked for the next few days. They told his dad that if there was any swelling to bring him in to an emergency room immediately.
The next person to approach them was a tall man in a tan trench coat, grey slacks and a matching tan fedora like from old crime shows from the pre quirk era.
"Hi, there. I'm Detective Tsukauchi and I'd like to take your statement on what happened tonight. Are you up for a few questions?" The man's friendly face let him relax just a bit.
His dad came to sit next to him on the back of the ambulance and tucked him under his arm to be a silent pillar of support and encouragement. With his dad next to him, he knew he could get through the questions.
The detective smiled when he gave a firm nod. "Thank you. Can I have your first and last name to start?"
"Midoriya Izuku. I'm twelve."
"What had you out so late tonight?"
He hesitated before answering. "It was my turn to clean up the classroom today and it took a little longer than usual. I stopped for a snack and drink before I got home at 7Eleven right there." The look on the man's face told him he knew something was off about what he said. It was like he knew he wasn't telling the whole truth.
"Okay. Now can you tell me about what happened with the perpetrator? The woman who hurt you?"
Tears sprang to his eyes and his dad squeezed him tighter as he told the detective everything that happened. He made sure to give as many details as he could remember and admitted to that there were bits that he couldn't.
"-and then I asked Eraserhead if I could use his phone to call dad and now we're here." He finishes and buries his head into his dad's chest again to calm himself.
"Thank you, Midoriya. You were very brave tonight. Nothing that happened was your fault. We were even able to find another victim and help him because you kept fighting." The man's words were sincere and it helped him with the thoughts swirling around in his head about not doing enough. "I'll let you two get home now. Thank you both for your time. Here's my card if you ever need anything." The detective handed his dad a business card, tipped his hat at them and turned around to get into a police cruiser parked nearby.
He and his dad are finally released from the surrounding paramedics and policemen.
They were almost out of the small circle of people when he caught Eraserhead's eye. He pulled away from his dad and ran over to the man that saved him.
Eraserhead's eyes stayed on his the whole time with a raised eyebrow. "You okay kid? Seems you're able to go home now. Whatcha need?" The tall man stooped down so he could be more eye level with him, which Izuku appreciated greatly. His neck hurt to extend and move around right now.
"I just wanted to say thank you and ask you a question."
"You don't have to thank me for being a decent human being kid. It's my job to help those in need." His dark eyes looked exhausted so he wanted to make it quick to stop taking up so much of the man's time.
"Still. You saved my life. So thank you. You're not allowed to deny my appreciation. It's against the rules. You can't dictate how other people feel, even if it's about you." He tells the man confidently. He was told this every time his parents told him they were proud of him or appreciated him while he was feeling upset or like he was being a burden. They were working on his self confidence for a while now. He ignores the man's surprised face and presses on. "I wanted to know," he hesitates and looks up to his father who'd come to stand next to them for strength. His dad probably knew what he was going to ask. His dad's hand came to rest on his shoulder as a form of support and it was all he needed.
He steeled his nerves once again that night and looked back to Eraserhead.
"I wanted to know if you think someone like me could become a hero. Someone without a quirk."
There was barely two seconds between when he stopped talking and Eraserhead started.
Barely two seconds before his life was changed forever with one single sentence.
"Well I didn't use one saving you, so the only logical conclusion is yes you can."