Izuku and Todoroki-Shoto, now, just Shoto-talked and texted as much as they could, but Todoroki had school, and police work was only getting more demanding by the day. They were finding an odd friendship that neither knew quite what to do with, but each would defend it, and the other person, with their life.
But Izuku couldn't rest easy, there was too much hanging over his head. They had gotten all of Endeavor's paperwork filed and taken care of. With a few calls to the right people, it was processed and Shoto was officially free. Now Izuku was able to direct his worry to the mountain of other things he frequently concerned himself with.
Knowing that he was potentially going undercover, Izuku threw his whole being into his efforts. His analyses were better than ever. He spent longer training than ever before, gaining a proficiency with the katana that was frankly shocking. There was this mysterious drive to get better, to do better. It was like he could feel someone calling out to him in desperation.
That said, Izuku had fully expected the call when the time came, but he still found himself surprised and terrified when it was staring him in the face. He was called into Detective Tsukauchi's office unexpectedly one day, and he immediately knew what was going on.
"Have a seat, Midoriya, you're going to be here for a while." Tsuramagae said in his trademark calm manner.
"It's nice to see you again, Chief," Izuku said faintly. "What can I do for you today?"
"We have a ruff-quest for you, Midoriya," he said, making steady eye-contact. "Before we go into detail, rest assured that you are not required to say yes to this. Personally, I didn't want to ask you this, but here we are. Detective Tsukauchi has been working with the case, so he'll explain the issue."
The detective was sitting rigidly in his chair, discomfort radiating off of him. "It has been decided," he said woodenly, "that you would make a good candidate to go undercover on one of our most dangerous ongoing investigations. The subject at hand is the Shie Hassaikai, one of the most prolific branches of the Yakuza. We don't know very much about them or their motives, but this man is their leader, a man named Overshaul."
Izuku felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the photo of a man with piercing golden eyes and a plague mask.
"If you accept the role, you will be integrated into the Shie Hassaikai to learn as much as you can about them and their plans for the future. This is incredibly dangerous. If you are found out, you will almost definitely die."
He couldn't look away from the photograph. Something about the man felt oppressively sinister, but it also solidified his resolve somehow. Izuku could tell from the look in Detective Tsukauchi's eyes that he was urging Izuku to decline the proposition, say no and continue on like normal.
But he couldn't. Meeting Tsuramagae's eyes, he unflinchingly said, "I accept. I'll do it."
"Don't feel rushed into it, Midoriya," Tsukauchi said a bit desperately. "You're not being pressured to go."
"I know, Detective," Izuku said. "But I don't think I can live with myself if I decide not to go."
"Paw-fect, Midoriya," Tsuragamae said with a sage nod. "Preparations will begin tomorrow.
Tsukauchi rose from his chair. "I'll see you out, Chief. Midoriya, you stay here. I need a word."
Izuku nodded, swallowing heavily. This conversation wasn't going to be a pleasant one.
He could hear Tsukauchi escort the chief away, but it was the sound of the detective coming back that Izuku dreaded. It came too soon, and the detective's face was almost terrifyingly blank.
Naomasa stared down Izuku, eyes searching. He felt like his very soul was being examined before the detective said, "I understand I won't be able to change your mind, Midoriya."
"No, sir."
"You will go by the books on this one," the detective said vehemently. "You won't overstep your bounds or make rash decisions, and if you've harmed yourself, intentionally or accidentally, I will put you on meter maid duty for months."
"Understood, Detective," Izuku said seriously.
Inko cried when Izuku told her the news that night, and he found himself inundated with people doing what they could to prepare him. Valiant called every contact he knew that had anything to do with sword fighting to help train Izuku. Dr. Meiji took him through analysis drills, making him assess quirks more accurately with less and less time.
The fanny pack was seriously scrutinized. The officers completely took it apart, deciding what could stay, what should be added, and so on. Some of them (Saito) took it upon themselves to periodically ambush Izuku to "prepare him for anything."
Izuku was given every scrap of information on Overhaul that the police possessed, though he suspected that there was something the heroes weren't sharing. He just couldn't bring himself to wholly trust Sir Nighteye, no matter what he did.
When the Stain incident had happened, his name had been released, but his connection with the police had not. With the media's focus on heroes, he had already largely been forgotten. It would be fairly simple to build an underground persona for himself. It sounded perfectly believable that a quirkless teenager would turn villain, almost more believable than one joining the police force.
They needed a disguise for him that he could maintain for an indeterminate amount of time. It came in handy that he was so plain-looking for once. If they could just give him a few temporary distinguishing characteristics, he would largely be invisible.
First came a haircut, which Saito and Sasaki argued over for hours. Saito wanted a mohawk, Sasaki wanted a buzz cut, and Izuku decided that he officially no longer trusted either of them. Eventually the three of them compromised on an undercut. Saito happily pointed out that the top was long enough to wear in a man bun if he wanted to, and it left Izuku wondering why she had been on the committee for choosing his clothes to take Uraraka out. On the bright side, the hairdresser was very kind, showing him how to style his hair with pomade so it didn't hang in his face.
When it was all done, Izuku was a little unsettled. He looked… older. His face didn't feel so round anymore, and with his hair up it highlighted the recent scar that ran through his eyebrow.
A new wardrobe was called for. Izuku jokingly suggested they find some t-shirts that simply said "villain" but it was swiftly and mercilessly shot down. He was also denied his jeans, cargo shorts, and worst of all, his red shoes.
"They're your trademark shoes, if anything is going to get you recognized, those would," Nakamura said, ripping the high tops out of his hands. "Go change, let's see how these clothes work."
Izuku hesitantly took the pile of clothes into the bathroom, slowly taking off his uniform. The jeans he was given were clearly skinny jeans, along with a tight, plain black t-shirt and a dark teal zip-up hoodie trimmed in black. Last came on a pair of heavy combat boots and a teal medical mask, the same shade as the hoodie.
He took a moment to look in the mirror. The mask was large enough that it even covered his freckles. In these clothes, he looked… dangerous.
Saito whistled when he stepped out. "You look like I should be arresting you right now."
"Just two last touches," Nakamura said critically. He handed Izuku the fanny pack. "I recommend wearing this across your torso instead of around your waist like a dad on vacation. It will also make things more accessible to you, should you need it. And for the second-" here he procured none other than Hero Killer Stain's sword. "You need to decide if you want to wear it at your waist or on your back like Stain did. We had it sharpened, so the blade isn't as notched and beat-up as when you saw it last. Interestingly, it seems to have been made with a quirk that reinforces metal, so if you get enough strength behind your swing, it can literally cut through steel."
Izuku took the blade reverently before strapping it on various ways, trying to see what was most comfortable. "I think I'll keep it at my waist. Stain was quite a bit taller than I a m, but it makes more sense for me to start a fight with an upswing."
Along with the training, Izuku was repeatedly drilled on how to act with his new persona, what kind of person "Deku" was. It was honestly the worst part of the whole process. He'd survived this far through belligerent optimism, by telling himself there was always a chance.
As Deku, he forsook society, and let society forsake him. It should have felt foreign to Izuku, but… it was familiar, too familiar.
That night at dinner, Izuku couldn't bring himself to eat very much. He found himself pushing food around his plate and not meeting his mother's eyes.
"You leave tomorrow, don't you?" Inko asked, already combatting tears.
"Yeah," he said, trying not to cry himself. (He was failing.)
"I… I know I can't stop you. I'm proud of you, Izuku, but I'm also just so scared. So come home to me, okay? I'll wait as long as it takes."
He finally found the strength to meet his mother's eyes. "I will, I promise. I'll do everything I can to keep myself and anyone else that needs it safe. Can you… Can you tell Shoto when you see him next? He's got those provisional licensing exams coming up, and I don't want to distract him when he can't really do anything about this whole situation."
Inko stared at him for a few moments before sobbing even harder. "I'll tell him, but remember that you have a lot of people waiting for you. We're all cheering you on."
The next morning didn't feel quite real to Izuku. He hadn't gotten very much sleep that night, and before he left the house, his mother hugged him tightly, refusing to let go for a long while.
When she did let go, Izuku gave her a shaky smile. "I'll be back before you know it."
His walk to the police station felt a bit like a death march. Walking into the station, however, felt like a zoo. Upon entering, he was immediately seized by Saito, who shook him vigorously by his shirt.
"Don't you dare do anything stupid," she hissed, her face concerningly close to Izuku's. "If you stab yourself with that stupid sword again, or get seriously injured by one of those criminals I swear we're putting you in a protective bubble."
"Saito, put Midoriya down before you give him a concussion," Detective Tsukauchi said sharply. "But her threats stand, Midoriya. I don't want to be visiting you in the hospital at the end of all this."
Izuku ducked his head. "I know you all have your doubts, but thank you for supporting me anyway!"
His head snapped up when a strong hand settled on his shoulder. Sohma was looking at him with sad eyes. "We're letting you go because we know you can do this, Midoriya. We just want you to be safe, but you're willing to sacrifice some of that for others. In the end it's all part of the job, but we worry about you because we care."
"Thank you," Izuku said, crying once again.
Mori snorted. "Get it out now, kid. You're not going to successfully infiltrate anything if you can't hold it together."
After all the goodbyes were said, Izuku was given a refresher on the most important information before he was sent to the bathroom to change.
He felt teary and jittery through it all, but something in him stopped when he touched the sword. When practicing with it before he had been able to avoid thinking about it, but this sword had tasted blood, including his own. It was a blade that had tasted death.
Heroes, good men had fallen to this blade, all because of their broken society, a society that had broken him in turn. He couldn't totally dismiss Stain's ideals-it was a twisted world they lived in. Izuku's hand tightened on the handle of the sword. He could use it to change society,similar to what Stain had done. But where Stain had cut down, Izuku swore to protect. What Stain tried to destroy, Izuku resolved to reform.
Slipping on the mask only solidified his resolve. Izuku-no, Deku, stepped out of the bathroom without a tear in sight. Even those that had been part of selecting Izuku's disguise were shaken at how different he looked, this muscular boy with eyes as sharp as his sword.
Detective Tsukauchi clapped him on the shoulder. "If you're going to do this, do it right. When the time comes to confront the Shie Hassaikai, we'll be there."
"In the meantime, kick some gangster butt!" Saito cheered.
Izuku smiled, briefly giving them a glimpse of the boy they knew and loved. "I'll be waiting to see you all again."
The station watched with bated breath as Midoriya Izuku turned and walked away. Sasaki's fist tightened, nails digging into the palm of her hand. "He's going to be okay, right?"
Naomasa smiled sadly. "Of course he is. He hasn't reached his goal yet. It will take a lot more than a few rogue gangsters to stop Izuku."
Excerpts from Izuku's Analysis
Name: Ojiro Mashirao "Tailman"
Age: 16
Height: 169 cm (5'6")
Occupation: Hero Student
Physical Description: Ojiro has blond hair, both on his head and on the tip of his tail. His tail is rather long and thick, and other than the tail, Ojiro is considered "plain-looking" like me.
Personality: Ojiro is a quiet individual, but friendly and kind towards everyone. He is a hard worker, with a strong sense of dignity and maturity.
Quirk: "Tail" with its extremely creative name, is just what it sounds like. Ojiro's tail is extremely strong and flexible, and Ojiro uses it as comfortably as another limb while fighting. Be careful of the tail, it REALLY packs a punch.
Notes: I consider Ojiro one of my best friends. He was the first person my own age I really got to know after mom and I moved, and he gave me hope for the rising generation of heroes.
A/N: I'm back! I survived my finals! I wrote at least fifty pages in final papers, so I was a bit writing fatigued, but I'm good now! I'm excited to write the next few chapters, and like I've mentioned before, after this arc we're going to have a time skip to where the prologue takes place. But get yourselves ready for undercover Deku!
Thank you all for your continued support and patience. You guys have no idea how much it means to me, and Kit too! (Don't tell Kit I didn't give Deku a manbun. She insisted that was the right move, but I actually hate the idea for Izuku. In my opinion, it would be a mistake, and as she frequently reminds me, I'm the writer and I can do what I want.)