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Izuku Midoriya, age 21, stared at the office space in front of him. It wasn't much to look at. In fact, it was more akin to a broom closet than the other more established hero agencies he shared his building with. But the new paint job gave the room a warm atmosphere, and while the leather couch and chairs were second-hand and used, they were in excellent condition and far better than the folding chairs he was prepared to use for his sitting room before this morning.
The wood floors were polished to the point where Izuku felt terrible about walking on them, and the cabinets were filled to the brim with every type of office supply he would need in the coming days. Of course, it wasn't something many people should be excited about, but dammit, he was actually looking forward to putting his pens and highlighters to good use when he needed to fill out mission reports.
Because most importantly, the office and everything in it was all his. The embodiment of what he built with his own hands and years of hard work. That's what mattered the most to him. His office could have been a cardboard box on the street for all Izuku cared, as long as he could do what he needed to do.
Be a hero.
He sighed as he happily took a seat on the couch of his waiting area, imagining for a moment the potential clients that would come through his doors in the coming days. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least.
Over 50 percent of hero agencies go under within the first five years of operation, either being bought out and absorbed into more prominent and established hero agencies or taken over directly by the hero commission or one of its partners.
It was a rough road ahead for anyone, let alone a 21-year-old who had never officially worked for a hero agency and someone who "technically" dropped out of hero school before his second year.
Not to mention being back in Japan after so long...
Izukus mood darkened for a moment, the memories flooded back to him all at once. This was...a long time coming to say the least, but a decision he couldn't allow himself to regret making. After all, he spent five years traveling the world hiding from his past, and it didn't do him any good pretending what had happened didn't actually happen.
It was why he decided to move back home, after all, to try and pick up the pieces of his shattered life.
A knock on the door took Izuku out of his thoughts. The commission representative had arrived earlier than expected. Izuku was just happy the office looked as decent as it did. He didn't want to start his new life on the wrong foot. So he stood, checked his appearance in the reflection of the polished window, and put on the most professional face his nerves allowed him to have.
However, the professional mask he had perfected the five years away from home shattered when he saw exactly who was at the door.
"..Eraserhead," Izuku said stiffly as he regarded the older man. Clearly, this was not who he expected to see today, nor was it the person he wanted to see. But if the stack of papers in the man's hands was an indication, then his former teacher was the Commission representative he was set to meet. Oh, joy.
The man looked similar to when Izuku saw him last, minus the addition of the prosthetic leg, of course. But he looked uncomfortable standing in front of Izuku, something the young man took some pleasure in for a moment before squashing the emotion down.
"Midoriya," The man gritted out, hiding half his face from view with his capture weapon. He sounded familiar, just like how Izuku remembered the man did years ago, but there was a strange hesitation to his words. "It's been a while."
Five years, Izuku thought to himself. It had been five years since he last laid eyes on the man. Six years since he had spoken to the man, their last conversation never entirely left Izuku's mind in the six years that passed, despite Izukus best efforts.
"You're an absolute disgrace." Azoiwa-Sensei had said to him, spitting the words like they were poison as he turned away from the boy in the prison cell." And you deserve everything that happens to you from this point on."
Izuku always thought that would be the last memory he would ever have of the sleep-deprived hero. Guess he was wrong.
"Please come in," Izuku said politely if a little coldly as he held the door open for his former homeroom teacher. The older man stood frozen for a moment before entering the office without a word. "I wasn't aware I'd be meeting with an underground hero to file paperwork. The commission still can't be worried over my loyalty, can they?"
The words struck the underground hero like a fist, breaking whatever calm demeanor the man had cultivated since coming back into Izukus's life. If Izuku didn't know any better, he would have assumed he had rattled the man, something Izuku would have smiled at if it had happened a few years ago. But instead, Izuku chided himself mentally. Being passive-aggressive wasn't going to help anyone, especially not now.
He was home to get over his past, not wallow in it.
"Standard procedure." The one-legged man said as he sat down on the couch, his face returning to its ordinary emotionless mask. However, his voice still held the raw emotion that shone from his face just a moment ago. "After everything that had happened these past few years, the commission made it standard for these meetings to be more
hands-on" to minimize potential scandals down the line."
Izuku paused slightly at the word scandal but quickly recovered. It made sense, Izuku didn't like it, but it made sense. The reveal of the hero Slidin-Go being a high-ranking member of the paranormal liberation army while an active hero had been a national embarrassment, even more so than the sudden retirement of Yoroi Musha and several other high profile heros at the apex of the war against the PLA. The less said about Endeavor and the myriad of his issues, the better. He shouldn't be shocked at the added scrutiny the hero commission was pushing to flush out potential villains and undesirable traits from their ranks.
But even though Izuku knew this approach made sense, it wasn't the real reason the hero commission representative had to be his former homeroom teacher. The words didn't lie, at least not in a technical sense. But that didn't mean they were the whole truth.
But at this point, whatever was the reason his teacher was here wasn't Izuku's business anymore. He just wanted it to be done.
Izuku sat down across from his former teacher without a sound. He did his best to ignore his teacher's stare as he read through the assembled paperwork with an experienced eye. The first lesson you learn as an independent contractor in the international Heroics industry is reading the fine print of government contracts.
He didn't want a repeat of those 6 months in Hong Kong. So he refused to spend another day longer than he had to behind bars, being an undercover informant or otherwise.
"This is a" nice place." Eraserhead said, his eyes scanning the simple yet comfortable-looking office." A lot better than my first offices, at least."
"Thanks." Izuku said, without lifting his eyes off a particular dense paragraph regarding the commissions' new regulations regarding team-ups between heroes of different agencies."Can't say I was ever good with decorating."
"You decorated it yourself?" the underground hero asked, confusion radiating from his voice." Would have assumed your agency would have at least set you up with the basics before your transfer."
"Oh, I don't work for an agency."Izuku said as he signed his name to a non-disclosure agreement." The commission put me on probation when I stepped off the plane from America."
Izuku glanced up for a moment, seeing his former teacher's eyes widen in shock. Izuku watched the man for a second more, trying to remember each subtle movement of the underground hero's face.
Was this him being happy that Izuku had to go through this hassle? or was he upset that despite the roadblocks, Izuku found himself on equal footing despite his setbacks.
"Yeah, it is illegal for an accredited hero agency to hire someone on probation," Izuku added, turning his attention back to the paperwork." But, turns out though, it's not actually illegal for someone on probation to start their own agency."
It was a significant loophole that hadn't been used since the beginning years of hero society; he had patted himself on the shoulder for literal days after discovering it. The commission didn't seem to think so, but Izuku was starting to realize that the dislike the hero commission held for him was a weight he was willing to bear.
An intake of breath caught Izukus attention as he raised his eyes off the paperwork in front of him and towards his former teacher. The man was rigid as if shocked by some unknown electric quirk. His eyes were wide, and while he couldn't see the lower half of the man's face, Izuku knew the underground hero's lips had become twisted into a scowl.
It was a look Izuku could never forget after all.
"It's not a big deal," Izuku said, his voice betraying nothing as he spoke. "After five years of doing jobs no one wanted to do, it feels good being my own boss."
Eraserhead said nothing, but if his hands balling into tight fists against the brown leather seat was anything to go by, the man was clearly wrestling with something, but for his life, Izuku couldn't figure out what. Either that or he didn't care all too much.
Izuku placed his signature on the last packet of papers, neatly packing them into the manilla folders they came in. Eraserhead reached his hand out silently, pausing as he looked towards Izuku before standing up from the couch.
"If that's all you need me for, "Izuku said as he motioned towards the door. "Then I wish you a good rest of your day."
Some would call him abrupt, but Izuku had a lot of things he had to do before starting his first official day as a registered hero. Dot the I's and cross the T's as they say. He also knew that his former teacher was as uncomfortable as he was about this impromptu reunion. But, despite everything, Izuku wasn't the type of person to prolong someones suffering if he could help it.
He also didn't want to spend time with his ex-teacher any longer than he had to.
The underground hero stood awkwardly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and for a brief moment, Izuku wondered if that was what he looked like all those years ago?
But whatever internal struggle eraser head was dealing with was not Izukus problem. Hero or otherwise, some things couldn't be fixed with a bright smile or an offered hand to lift someone up.
"Listen...Midoriya..." Eraserhead started before he seemingly gave up, the weight of his words too heavy for him to bear. He ambled to the door, his footsteps feeling more solemn and labored than those with whom he entered the office.
Izuku felt a rush of relief when he finally closed the door, a polite "good night" barely leaving his lips by the time his ex-teacher left his vision. He took a calming breath and closed his eyes, falling backward into his office chair behind his desk. For a while, the only sounds Izuku could hear were traffic outside his office walls and the sound of his own heartbeat slowly but surely returning to normal.
"Well." Izuku said to himself that the minor panic attack was entirely under control before it overcame him." That wasn't so bad."
Principle Nedzu leaned forward into his chair, leaning against his paws as he stared into the paperwork in front of him. He scanned each line after the other, memorizing every detail regarding his former charge that the papers told him.
But as each detail burned into his eyes, he couldn't help but feel the frustration bristle his fur as he clenched his paws tight together. The ramble of his subordinates was not helping in the slightest.
"Shouta!" Present Mic said, his voice pleading as he tried vainly to calm his best friend down." You're starting to freak me out!"
His friend's words did little to sway the underground hero from his action as he stared blankly out the window of Nedzus office overlooking the courtyard. He hadn't said a word since he arrived back on campus, ignoring the calls and words of students and staff members as he made his way to the principles office. He shuffled limply, like a zombie moving on nothing more than blind instinct. He hadn't even noticed the forms of his fellow teachers follow him as he tossed the packet of paperwork onto Nedzu's desk.
"Not the best sign," Nedzu thought as he looked back to the paperwork, biting back the bile that threatened to leave his throat as he saw the familiar and haunting signature on the papers. "Not the best sign at all."
Present Mic shook his friend's shoulder, his confusion twisting into general worry as his normally stoic friend refused to acknowledge him. Snipe had gone to grab the nurse, U.A.'s newest employee, the young healing hero White Mage, hoping the young woman could help with her healing touch.
Thirteen and Cementoss looked on in concern, their mutterings doing little to settle Nedzus growing frustration. At least Eraser had the decency to remain quiet while Nedzu thought about what he needed to do.
"Is someone gonna explain what's going on?" Vlad said, crossing his massive arms against his broad chest." What happened to Eraser? Where did you send him."
Nedzu stared the man down, the principles black eyes looking less human than they usually did. In times like this, Nedzu's inhumanness shone brightly despite the creature's intelligence. Then, finally, the muttering stopped as if the whole room suddenly realized that whatever was happening, it was something that should be treated seriously.
"Midoriya..." Shouta said, his voice hollow and raw, less like a voice and more like a wounded animal trying to crawl out of his voice." ...Is back in Japan."
All noise seemed to die in the room; for once, Nedzu was allowed to think uninterruptedly. He looked back towards the commission forms the young man had signed a few hours ago, memorizing the details in front of him like his life depended on it.
"Wah.." Present Mic said, his eyes widened in horror and shame as he stepped away from his friend like he had been punched in the gut."What do you mean he's..."
"Is he okay?" Midnight said, crossing the room's length in long strides as she met Shouta's eyes. The 18+ heroine's eyes shone with emotion.
Each thought she had for the boy these past few years had come to surface all at once." Where has he been? What did he say?"
"He...he..." Shouta spoke, stopping as he sucked in a breath and looked towards his friends and co-workers with a face Nedzu had rarely seen on the stoic man's face." He didn't say anything."
As if at once, the air in the room seemed to disappear. Sucking the life out of the heroes crowding Nedzu's desk. Nedzu sat silently, his breathing becoming labored as he watched one of the most competent men he had ever met in his career in the middle of a nervous breakdown in front of his eyes.
"I sat before him for thirty minutes trying to say two words to him," Shouta said, trying to will control back into his body as he stared back towards the window and away from the horror-stricken faces of the room's occupants. "Five years, and I couldn't even bring myself to say I was sorry."
"Shouta..."Present Mic tried to put his hand on the eraser hero's shoulder, but his friend shrugged it off as if physical contact caused the man pain. Then, the room's climate shifted, and each teacher except for Shouta looked toward Nedzu with pleading and desperate eyes. For confirmation or for something else, the small mammal didn't know.
"It is exactly what Shouta said." Nedzu interrupted, leaning back into his chair with a sigh as the rest of the room's occupants placed their undivided attention on the small principal. "Izuku Midoriya is officially a hero registered with the heroics commission. His "exile" as it were, has been lifted..."
"No, it's not." Shouta said, turning to look at Nedzu with a semblance of his usual tone of voice." The commission refused to lift Izukus ban. He's still under probation until the commission believes he has shown his "loyalty."
Nedzu felt his fur bristle as he clenched his paws together. He shouldn't be surprised at the commission's actions, but even that thought couldn't erase the disgust he felt for what was happening to the young man. He had already suffered more than anyone should, but this? It was an insult added to injury and beyond what could be considered normal.
It had caused quite a stir among the hero ranks when the commission decided to levy punishments for crimes proven without a shred of doubt not to have happened. Five years was a long time for a teenager to put his heroics career on hold.
"What are you talking about!" Midnight asked, her eyes shining with confusion and disgust as she said the word."The commission practically through Izuku out of the country!"
Nedzu nodded his small head at the words. He was fearful something like this would happen whenever Izuku decided he wanted to return to Japan. But, on the other hand, he was just surprised the commission would have been so blatant...
"...they wanted him to work for the commission..." Nedzu said, his eyes widening as everything began to make sense. First, the commission's punishment even after Izuku was exonerated for the crimes he was charged with. The commission refusing to authorize Izukus transfer from U.A. after his release from Tartarus. Their hounding and threats against prominent international hero agencies that employed Izuku these past five years. "This was their plan all along."
"It's why the commission didn't count the five years he was out of the country towards his probation." Shouta said with a shake of his head, his lips twisting and his jaw clenched as he spat the words out."If he didn't find that loophole, the only chance he'd get to be a hero would be as an agent under the direct control of the commission."
"Loophole?" Midnight said, her voice broken with emotion as she looked at Nedzu with a questioning look. "What loophole?"
"It seems young Midoriya has become an even greater strategist in his years away from our tutelage," Nedzu said with a small smile, feeling pride in the young man's intelligence despite the situation they found themselves in. " It's a law that hasn't been enforced in almost 100 years, But it allows himself the legal wiggle room to start his own hero agency without the express written consent of the commission."
"They can't be happy about that," Vlad said subduedly. "Can't see them letting something like that go."
The large man had almost been fired five years ago when it was discovered that several of his students had played a small role in leaking information regarding Izuku to the press. Of course, it had only been the blood hero's reaction to the event that had saved his position in Nedzu's inner circle, but the small rodent would be lying if he said his opinion of the man hadn't changed over the whole event.
"The decision will, of course, be challenged in the courts, Nedzu answered as he sipped a cup of tea. "But until that day comes, young Midoriya will legally be a hero.
"As it should be." Nedzu thought, his feelings about how the commission dealt with its business a well-known secret. One didn't have to look far to see the corruption in the industry after all, especially after everything that had happened these past few years.
"Where has he been these past few years?" Present Mic asked, the voice he perfected for his radio show forgotten as he looked between the broken form of his friend and the still and petrified looks of the rest of the room's occupants." What's the little listener been doing?"
"I'm afraid all I know about the boy I've heard from Yagi-San," Nedzu said, his lips quivering at the thought of his last interaction with the former number one hero. "We haven't spoken to one another for some time for...obvious reasons."
The room stilled again, the thoughts drifting to the events that led to all this happening. The first domino falling led them to where they all were now.
The U.A. traitor investigation.
"Does anyone else know?"Present Mic asked, his voice as quiet as a church mouse." Should we tell his classmates?"
"Ex classmates." Nedzu answered his words feeling like daggers to those who heard him." I'm sure the former Class A will know all about this in the coming days."
"Do you think..." Midnight asked, her voice failing her before she could finish her question.
Nedzu sipped his tea, not needing the woman to finish speaking to know just what she was referring to. Would the former members of Class 1-A try to rekindle the relationship they had ended so many years ago? Some would, those whose guilt overrides the shame they held even after so many years.
"Some will. I am sure." Nedzu answered the unspoken question by looking at the image of Shouta's face reflecting off the window. The man's stoic mask slips with each passing moment. Nedzu hadn't seen the man look like that since Eri had demanded to know the truth about why she couldn't see Midoriya anymore. "We will soon see whether their attempts will be a good thing."
Hey, look it's the consequences of my own actions. I really like suspected traitor AUs, but I actively hate a good portion of them. I usually have a list of things that I actively hate in fanfiction and for some weird reason all of them just sort of show up in suspected tractor stories for some reason? Maybe they're all written by the same person, who knows.
Unlike my previous story, "The Green Man" this story isn't a glorified one-shot I just sort of slapped together because people liked it. It is an actual story that I purposely planned out from the beginning to its end. So get ready to get really sad. This will be a no-bashing zone, I try my hardest to keep characters as logically consistent as I can, and while I don't always succeed I always make an effort So if you've ever been turned off reading a suspected traitor story because the author has a vendetta against characters and write them like they were anime Hitler, this my friend is the story you need in your life.
Also, unlike a lot of these types of stories, I'm not gonna try to romanticize suicide. It is a story where young adults deal with guilt and trauma in a respectful and hopefully mature way that makes you really understand what each character is going through.
Or it might suck, who knows.
Leave a review, favorite, or follow. My poor, sensitive ego can do little when it's not supplied with the right amount of attention.