Sorry about the mix-up with chapter 3. The correct chapter has been posted. Updates have also been made to the prologue once a friend found it was the incorrect version written. Not sure what happened to all the edits I'd made to it before I posted but I suspect my cat had something to do with it.

Thanks for your patience.

At long last, the pace of this story starts picking up and we can see more characters!

CHAPTER 4: Shallow Diving

(1) Road Rage. Name: Toda Michi. Mutant type. Endomorph. A somewhat squat person with broad shoulders and a thick, red hide. He can use the thickest portions of his hide like a belt on a treadmill, allowing him to strip away things like skin and, at certain speeds, stone. Quirk overuse causes him painful burns.

(2) Goblin. Name: Sera Tsutomu. Mutant type. Meso-endomorph. Shortest of the three. Named for his greenish skin and warts. Has abnormally long fingers with above average grip-strength.

(3) Rubber. Name: Horie Mari. Transformation type. Ectomorph. Can extend his limbs and neck as far as ten feet.

A kick to the ribs pushed a grunt of pain out of Izuku's mouth and made the little kid below him squeak in fear. His temporary charge was a tough one. She'd refused to leave Izuku on his own even after he'd stepped in to give her the chance to escape. But unfortunately, her refusal to run had cost them both and now she was only protected because he was using his body to shield her. Granted, she had managed to stop Goblin from suffocating him to the point of unconsciousness first.

"I-it's ok, it's– oof! Haha," Izuku smiled at her, hoping the blood on his face wasn't too scary, "this– hff –isn't very f-fun– guh! –is it?" He winced and barely swallowed a whimper of pain when Rubber wrapped an elastic arm around Izuku's ankle and began to wring it out like a wet washcloth. If not for the risk it would put the girl in he'd of smashed his boot into Rubber's face. "What's your name?" he groaned and ducked his head, shivering in disgust when Goblin hacked a glob of spit onto the back of his head.

"K-Kaoru," the little girl whispered, looking up at Izuku with wonder he barely noticed.

"Ok, Kaoru-san, hang on to me as tight as you can in 3, 2, 1!" He had barely a second left to roll them both under the slide and into the safety of the little nook behind it before Road Rage began his charge. Just as the analyst released her they heard the hard clang of someone slamming headfirst into the jungle-gym.

"Fucking quirkless piece of shit! Fuck!"

Road Rage and Goblin were both too big to reach inside the little nook below the playground, leaving Izuku to focus on Rubber when he made an attempt. The analyst braced his foot against a wide pole and grabbed the first hand that reached around it. He yanked the limb inside hard and fast enough to smack the side of Rubber's head against the pole. The pain made Rubber lose focus and cancel his quirk with a curse. Izuku used the moment to pin Rubber's hand under his foot and grab the second one as it came through.

Izuku was fine if they wanted to beat him up but he couldn't make himself stand by and watch while they tried to hurt others– especially if their target was just a little kid who was furious about a dropped sucker.

"Make one move," he warned, demanding his opponent's attention by forcibly flexing the boy's wrist at an unnatural angle, "and I will break it." Rubber was incredibly flexible, sure, but he still had bones and a low pain tolerance. Izuku peered out of the speckled lighting and dark shadows below one of the playground's grated platforms and met Rubber's eyes.

"You little–!"

Izuku twisted it a little more, "think for a moment what that would do to your image. You can tell everyone it was me who did it, if you want. I won't mind." Further twisting made the second year upperclassman curse harder.

"L-let go, asshole!" he squawked. His friends watching cluelessly in the background, completely unsure of how to help.

Izuku didn't.

"F-hhuck! Fine! I'm sorry, shit, fuck! We won't bother that stupid cunt again, ok?!"

He supposed that would have to be good enough. All at once he released Rubber and stepped back. The analyst watched Goblin and Road Rage drag their friend back and turn tail.

"Fuck it, dude, they've learned their lesson."

"Yeah, they've stopped being worth it."

"Fuck you, Deku, you cowardly piece of shit!"

Silence save for Izuku's panting soon filled the little nook he and Kaoru occupied. He sat back with a cringe, bruises already forming where Goblin had whipped him. At least they didn't try to pull my pants off this time, he thought, small victories, right?

A choked whimper pulled him back down to the situation and he turned to address Kaoru.

"Stop!" she shouted, holding a trembling hand out as if to hold Izuku back.

Noting the fear in her eyes was now directed at him, he took the hint and scooted away. "It's o-ok, Kaoru-san. I'm sorry I scared you but I promise I wo–"

"You're quirkless!" this time she pointed at him and Izuku had to keep himself from flinching. He watched angry tears spill onto her cheeks. "I'm going to be cursed now too, because of you! Don't you know people like you carry bad luck?"

"Kaoru-san–" Izuku tried to sooth, reaching out before he could stop himself.

She screamed in terror and shot out through a gap on the opposite side, "don't touch me! I hate people like you!"

Izuku watched her go without a word, defeated and alone. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened and it wouldn't be the last either. But he wished it would stop hurting so much soon.

He saw less and less of his UA friends as the Sports Festival drew nearer, but that was fine. As much as he wanted to be there to cheer them on he wouldn't have had the guts to attend such a crowded event in person. Large gatherings like that often made him so nervous he couldn't appreciate what he was supposed to be watching.

He might've watched it live online if not for the opportunity it gave him to do some heavier digging on Stendhal – or Stain, as was being called. Izuku hadn't realized they were one and the same until recently.

Moving around the city when so many heroes and law enforcement officers were guarding the stadium made it much easier for Izuku to move around. He hoped he'd be able to get information on the LOV's hideouts too.

"'Hero killer,' huh?" he muttered to himself, chewing on the side of his bandaged index finger as he looked through the reports on HeroNet. He was neck deep into his research, trying to find a connection between the former vigilante's hero victims.

As focused as he was, though, he'd also become rather well versed in Uraraka's bubbly energy. It might have also helped being the target of so much bullying, too.

"Deku-kun! Deku-kun! Help us!" she patted her hands on the table to get his attention, appearing at his side before the café's bell had even finished ringing.

"Huh?" he could tell by the sound of her voice that it wasn't particularly urgent but that didn't slow his reaction time. "Is it h-homework, again?" The question was directed at Iida as he came up to the booth with another girl in the UA uniform Izuku hadn't met before.

The newcomer was hunched forwards, dangling her abnormally large hands in front of herself like they'd hang too low if she didn't. Her black eyes were bulbous and easy to read, and she had long green hair, not as dark as his own, that had been tied into a neat bow at the bottom.

"Yes– well, kind of. First, though, are you ok?" Uraraka asked with a worried frown.

Izuku was caught off-guard by the question and blinked at her a few times before he understood what she was concerned about. "Oh, yeah," he managed a laugh that probably sounded forced and pointed at the gauze around his neck, "one o-of my, one of my c-classmates lost control of his quir-quir-quirk. It looks w-worse than it act-t-tually is so I'm keeping it covered." Technically it wasn't a total lie. It was caused by a quirk, after all. Goblin had just had perfect control of what he was doing.

"I assume that's why your hands are also bandaged? What about the plaster on your nose?" Iida asked, adjusting his glasses and eying Izuku critically.

"Y-yes. U-uh'huh! Definitely." Izuku could feel himself sweating under the hero students' careful scrutiny.

"Midoriya-kun, did you fall down the stairs again?" the older boy asked with an eyebrow raised.

Izuku cringed. He probably shouldn't rely on that excuse so often.

Iida took his silence for an answer and started chopping his arm at the orphan, reprimanding him for being so clumsy.

"I'm ok, really!" the analyst assured them frantically, "I'm h-hardly hurt at all! Uraraka-san, wha-what d-did, what did you need he-help with?"

"Well, if you're sure. You understand quirk application really well, don't you?" the girl asked, leaning into Izuku's bubble with a determined set to her shoulders.

"U-uh, I g-guess?!" he squeaked, face flushing. He pulled back to hug his head and hide himself in his arms as Iida moved on to chastise Uraraka for being too close.

"So this is the famous friend you two keep talking about?" the newcomer interrupted, her voice croaky but not unkind, "he looks pretty plain."

"W-well, that's certainly true," Izuku began but was unsure of how to finish. What more could he really add to that? It didn't feel like this person was trying to insult him.

"Sorry, I'm Tsuyu Asui, but my friends call me Tsu-chan. I'm the kind of person who says exactly what they feel." Tsuyu brought a calm and open energy with her that somehow made Izuku feel at ease, despite her first impression of him. He generally had less to worry about when it came to honest people.

"O-oh. N-nice to, nice to meet you– wait," Izuku turned to Iida and Uraraka as a cold realization sunk into his stomach, "you two have been talking about me in class?!"

That was...

Oh no.

Izuku stood up, slamming his knees under the table painfully. "Uraraka-san! Iida-kun! You two haven't used my nickname in class," color began to drain from his face as he looked at his confused friends in dawning horror, "have you?"

Bakugou Katsuki was in class 1A with them.

"Does Kacchan know?!"

"Oh, so it's because of Bakugou-kun," Iida scowled. It wouldn't be surprising if the two didn't get along.

The four had retreated out to a nearby channel and parked themselves down on the bank to talk. The sun was getting lower, spreading warm but vibrant colors around them.

"I'm really surprised that you know each other, Deku-kun! What a small world, huh. Oh! I probably shouldn't call you that anymore, should I?" Uraraka said, rubbing the back of her head and sounding sheepish.

"N-no, that's ok. You can k-keep calling me that," Izuku flushed, pushing the tips of his pointer fingers together and looking away. "I-I don't know why but somehow, when you say it, it doesn– it doesn't sound like an in-insult."

Uraraka blushed too. "Well, that's because I didn't think it was an insult when you said it, Deku-kun. I thought it sounded like 'do your best!' or 'I can do it!' You know?"

"I think it sounds cute," Tsuyu agreed with a smile that reminded Izuku of a frog. Her mouth looked like it was wider than average, drawing a contrast with the small size of her nose.

The analyst looked up at the evening sky, his heart fluttering pleasantly. There was a shy smile on his face when he thought about how special the insulting name suddenly felt. Today had turned out so differently than yesterday.

"But I think I prefer Midori-chan."

"E-Eh!?"

"I'll keep calling you Midoriya-kun. Is that fine?"

"Ah? H-yeah, I-I-I mean y-yes! Yes, that's fine!"

"Ochako-chan, wasn't there something you wanted to ask Midori-chan?"

"O-oh! Right!"

And that's how Izuku ended up spending the second half of his Saturdays before the Sports Festival analyzing three new quirks, with the first half spent finishing his mural.

Well, 'new' probably wasn't the right adjective to use in terms of someone's quirk. Not with how many he analyzed on a regular basis.

Iida's quirk made perfect sense, given his lineage, and Uraraka's was amazing too, but Izuku liked Tsuyu's the best for its adaptive functionality. He had to hold himself back, though, keeping his more in-depth findings to himself. Helping them this much was making an exception to one of his rules; no QAs for hero students unless absolutely necessary. Most already had all the resources they needed to do well and he couldn't risk having someone's teacher hunting him down.

Tsuyu, Uraraka, and Iida deserved this much, however, since he was lying to them about so much.

But even so, holding himself back was…

Extremely difficult.

"Iida-kun, I'm surprised your family didn't hire a professional analyst for you," Uraraka commented and offered him a towel as the boy sat back down next to her, panting with exertion and soaking wet. Izuku had asked him to demonstrate his quirk while he was submerged in the channel and Iida had decided it was a good way to train his body.

Izuku currently only had half an ear on the conversation, mostly focused on overlooking Tsuyu's dive response from his perch on a boulder. It was the safest place for him to observe as it loomed over the water and gave him a wider view of the footpath above. He made a mental note to ask the girl if her quirk performance was effected by aquatic salt concentrations.

"They did, actually. But he was unprofessional! He didn't tell us anything new and he arrived late," Iida exclaimed, chopping one hand.

"What about that online quirk analyst everyone's been talking about lately?" Uraraka asked. Izuku felt himself begin to sweat and had to consciously stop himself from flinching. He tried to remember if he ever received a request from someone meeting Iida's description.

"Apparently, they don't help hero students. It's stated in their terms. And they're not official, anyway," Iida explained. "Midoriya is probably much more helpful!"

Izuku blushed and twittered uncomfortably at the praise, trying to deny it but stuttering too hard to speak. It was scary to think how close they would be to discovering his identity should he slip up and give anything away.

"I agree, kero," Tsuyu croaked as she surfaced and drew the QA's attention back to her.

"Tsuyu-san, you can hear so well underwater!" he gushed enthusiastically, unable to help himself when he completely bowled over her deadpan request to call her Tsu-chan, "that's amazing! Oh gosh, we haven't quite touched on the auditory capabilities of aquatic mammals in bio 255 yet but given her likeness to amphibians and the apparent structure of her jaw there's doubtless a physiological cause. I wonder what the mechanism is? Sound travels so much farther underwater, sure, but to be able to understand individual words like that? That's amazing!"

"Midori-chan is very good at this, kero," Tsuyu said to Iida and pulled herself out of the channel, "maybe your family should hire him instead, kero."

"What!" Izuku squawked, immediately snapping out of his excited muttering, and started waving his arms at them. To his horror, Iida appeared to be considering it. "No, no, no, no. Absolutely not! You're my f-fr– you're my friends! I want to help. Th-that's, that's what, w– that's what friends do!"

Wait a second. He froze when a difficult thought occurred to him. They never actually said we were friends, did they? I thought – but – have I been making the wrong assumption this entire time?! I've never actually had any friends – except for Kacchan when we were four.

"Isn't it?" Suddenly scared he'd misunderstood he started mentally backpedaling, reassessing his memories with mounting concern. Are we not actually friends? Were we ever?

"Of course we're friends!" Iida boomed suddenly, making Izuku flinch. The worried analyst was pulled off the rock and into someone's warm arms.

"We are definitely, definitely your friends, Deku-kun! No matter what!" Uraraka exclaimed with more passion than he'd ever heard from her before. He was too shocked by the embrace to notice he was literally floating, Uraraka holding one hand and Tsuyu gripping the other.

But Izuku's doubt stubbornly lingered, lashes clumped with tears he hadn't realized were there. He shook his head and tried to take his hands back so he could wipe them away but the girls held on.

"Midoriya-kun, I'm sorry," the emotion in Iida's voice made the analyst turn to him with worry. He looked frustrated with himself. "I don't have a lot of experience with having friends either and I keep upsetting you. Please, give me a chance to do better! I want to keep being your friend!"

"I haven't known you as long but you're still my friend too, Midori-chan. That's why you should start calling me Tsu-chan. Okay?" Tsuyu gave his hand a reassuring little squeeze.

Izuku hiccupped, his tears floating upwards and green hair drifting freely around his head. Wind softly caressed the fuzzy patch of hair he'd needed to keep short for the wound at his nape, tickling the sensitive skin. His eyes burned hotter and the stiff knot clenched around his throat thickened, almost choking him under the fading bruises and swathes of gauze, as he realized he'd spilled all his thoughts out loud again.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed and squeezed their hands back. "Tha-thank you, thank you. I'm sorry–" The three let him cry and held him close. No-one tried to call him dramatic or made fun of him for being vulnerable but Izuku still choked on his lies and all the 'what ifs' that came with them.

Quirkless criminals get special treatment after allegedly assaulting Sumida Ward police officer, Okimoto Takeo. — Saburo, Fujita-san. Tokyo Nichi Nichi Shimbun.

Pro hero Heat Seeker claims 'quirkless antagonizer' is at fault for his second suspension. —Yasushi, Sadow-san. Tokyo Shimbun.

Opinion Piece: Why The Legal Definition For "Villain" Should Not Be Changed To Include Quirkless People. — Tatsuya, Hano-san. The Japan Times.

Crime rate rises as quirked families struggle to afford the rising cost of treatment for their quirkless loved ones. — Osamu, Yasutake-san. Yomiuri Shimbun.

Abe Yoshihide's budget cuts threaten availability of low cost medical care to quirkless hafus. — Katsuo, Mizuno-san. The Asahi Shimbun.

Katsuki glared down at the list of articles assigned to his class for homework with a vein ticking on his temple. What the fuck is this garbage? He thought, fuming.

His dreams had gotten worse since he'd stopped looking for Deku– not that he'd ever gone out of his way to actually search for him or anything. It was all just cursory stuff to make sure Katsuki was finally free. He was happy he didn't have to worry about that tenacious twerp tailing him everywhere anymore!

And of course his irritation had nothing to do with his dreams or the way his stomach still churned the few times he caught himself scanning the room for a familiar head of green.

The control that little shit had over him was beyond frustrating. The blonde would be glad if Deku just up and vanished one day!

Yet, lately, he kept watching himself blow the orphan's head to bits in that alleyway he'd left him in weeks ago. He would watch his body decompose, rolled over off to the side so it wasn't in the way and left there to rot because no-one could be bothered to care enough to do something about it.

Katsuki would wake up feeling like the back of his head was burning, like his face had been dribbled on a brick wall, and wonder why he hadn't just checked on the idiot before walking away. At the time, he'd been too angry to think about it. But now that decision haunted him as relentlessly as Deku himself.

His memories suddenly cut to the shitty state he'd last found him in and he clenched his jaw.

How much longer did Deku have left to live, anyway?

"Oi!" he growled at Ishiyama-sensei. The brickish hero turned to him. "Why the fuck should anyone care about this shit?" He didn't want to think about this anymore.

"Glad you asked, Bakugou. The significance of quirkism in Japan will be a reoccurring subject in our social studies coursework throughout the year. You are each to read these articles and write a three page essay in response. Details of the essay requirements will be given to you shortly." He then turned to look directly at Katsuki, "as future heroes of UA, you will be expected to set aside your personal biases. If we find you cannot be trusted to save people regardless of quirk status further steps will be taken."

You're fucking wrong about me. Katsuki would have told the cement hero off right there if he could've. He managed to keep it to a derisive snort, turning his eyes out into the courtyard and trying not to think too hard about the wash of protective anger he'd felt upon seeing Deku slumped and gasping on the ground with an old man hovering over him, or how easily that old man had defeated Katsuki.

How easy it had been, to make Katsuki walk away.

Leaving the stupid nerd with water he could trust wasn't roofied – had that really been the best he could think of to do?

Pathetic.

"This damn kid," Shota muttered to himself with a small smile when he spotted a certain green haired teenager sitting aloft an old water tower in the dead of night and listening to Hizashi's dumb radio station. Midoriya turned to watch the underground pro approach like seeing him wasn't a surprise. It probably wasn't. The kid seemed to know his patrol route better than he did sometimes.

"So?" Shota sighed and sat down next to the boy, who brightened when he was addressed. Midoriya turned the radio off before beginning his typical deluge of information.

"O-ok, so, last time you asked me about flaws in the judicial system and stuff, r-right? So, I was thinking, there literally isn't enough of Japan to use an incarceration system like the Americans do and I think that should make the consequences for breaking the law weigh more in monetary fines here than it does there. But instead our tactics are just recycled and reused with no real punishment being enforced by arresting officers to prevent repeat offences, with the exception of existing prisons like Tartarus. In Japan, heroes are paid according to the number of villains they subdue and, technically, no agency is entitled to more federal funding than another with the same or equal achievements. In that way, villainous actions are, hypothetically, encouraged in order to feed this economic system. It's possible that making it illegal for heroes to make arrests is a way of controlling that. I'm not really sure."

"Anyway, while everyone is focused on stuff like that, almost no-one is focused on other kinds of criminal activity, such as vandalism and petty theft. This allows other groups like the yakuza to move and communicate with much larger forces all over Japan unnoticed. That's why Nighteye's Agency and nightlight heroes are so important. Spotlight heroes cut the weeds but the Nightlights actually remove them." The absence of the boy's stutter throughout his entire tirade did not escape notice. Midoriya practically buzzed with excited energy as he took apart the concept question Aizawa had asked the last time they'd seen each other. With a little huff, he added, "and also why it's so important that nightlight heroes get legal permission to make arrests."

Shota mulled on his response. The boy was so thorough with his answer he gave him flashbacks to the specialized courses underground heroes were made to complete before they could be certified for work post-graduation. "I assume these 'spotlight' heroes refer to heroes applicable for the public hero rankings?"

Midoriya nodded and pursed his lips before turning his attention to a snack he'd brought with him, cuddling a little deeper into his hoody and glancing up at the stars. The student probably hadn't noticed it but he was trembling and kept rubbing his chest like it ached. It wasn't the first time Aizawa had noticed the behavior during one of their little nighttime meetings. The more he saw it the harder it got to ignore. Since the first major episode he'd witnessed Aizawa had done more research on the progression of heart failure in adolescents with anidiotropia, eventually learning that some teenagers might seem fine for a period and then decline so sharply and so suddenly there was little anyone could do to stop it.

Aizawa side-eyed the gummies Midoriya was munching on and made a mental note to research heart-healthy foods. "I see. And what did you mean by 'technically ' when you were talking about federal funding for hero agencies?"

The boy looked at him like he thought there was something wrong with him, an eyebrow raised almost as high as his green hairline, "Endeavor's agency has been accepting bribes from members of the Cabinet for ten years. They're not subtle about it."

"That's a dangerous accusation, kid," Aizawa warned him, faintly alarmed.

To his immense surprise Midoriya huffed and took out his battered laptop, tapping something out on it before leaning over so Shota could see the screen. "This is a pdf file of their new hires posted for public records three months ago, here's how many villains they've caught since then, and here's how many new hires they have now. With the charities they've been hosting and all the new equipment they need, added with the payments made out to property insurance companies to cover damage costs? There's no way they have enough to cover that out of their own pockets."

Aizawa looked at the numbers and couldn't help but silently agree with Midoriya about it being suspicious. Endeavor was well loved by his fans and a reliable hero, but his attitude… "While compelling, your evidence doesn't actually prove anything."

"But why would the Cabinet be interested in Endeavor specifically…?" the boy asked himself, seeming to forget Aizawa was there at all. He was starting down a rabbit hole.

"Oi." Shota had to use his stern teacher voice to break Midoriya out of it. "Leave it alone, problem child."

"Sor-Sorry!" the student squeaked and unconsciously shifted away from the underground pro like he thought he might get hit. They'd been making steady progress in the whole 'trust department' since Shota'd seen him for the first time after helping him home and Midoriya had run, terrified, in the other direction, startling Eraserhead with his speed and agility. The kid could probably move like a damn jackrabbit when he was healthy enough. From what he'd learned since then it was something of a gut reflex that Midoriya sometimes lost control of.

Shota was obviously no psychologist, but the questions he shared with Midoriya seemed to make him feel more welcome when they saw each other at night. It was amazing to see how he opened up.

This kid was more willing to learn than anyone Shota had ever taught. He obviously liked to think. Given the number of places he kept finding him, Aizawa had a strong feeling Midoriya knew at least some measure of self-taught parkour too. That or the kid was just really good at climbing. It was disappointing that he couldn't drop him in a UA obstacle gym and see how well he navigated it.

"How's the heart been?" From his bandages the pro hero might've guessed Midoriya had fallen during an episode but it was a bit difficult to tell while he was wearing a hoody. Not to mention, it wasn't unusual to see the kid with at least one band aid stuck to him.

"P-pretty, pretty good. No m-major attacks since the, since the weed family mo-moved out." The boy blushed and fidgeted nervously, eyes looking everywhere but Aizawa's face.

"Good," Shota sighed and stood, deciding to let the obvious lie go for now, "next time I want you to tell me the strengths and weaknesses of telepathy quirks."

Izuku was parked in the back room of Atsushi's shop watching a surveillance tape of Stendhal, presently called Hero Killer Stain, cut down pro hero Hobblet. He could hear Bunko-kun watching the Sports Festival one floor above him. It was odious work, watching and re-watching a villain with the highest kill-count of anyone since All Might's debut murder someone over and over again, but, Izuku figured someone had to do it.

With the unassuming guise of a simple high school student the size of a middle schooler, Izuku finished his analysis and took to the underground tunnels.

It was time to take a dive.

Izuku navigated the dark, cave-like network below the city of Tokyo with a comfortable confidence. People said a particularly destructive hero battle from the early beginnings of quirk society had caused it to 'sink', resulting in the construction of today's Tokyo above.

Having grown up in these passageways Izuku was sure it was nothing more than a fanciful rumor. Everything down here had once been at ground level but now made up the basements and foundations of most of Tokyo's buildings.

The majority of it had fallen into disuse, only visited occasionally to ensure safety and to coordinate reconstruction of the particularly intense damages people sometimes caused above. Even the villains that hid in these tunnels couldn't move as freely as Izuku; who could fit in small hiding spaces too high or low for others, squeeze through tight crevasses like an octopus, dash across rusted pipes without a sound.

Many had tried to chase him down here but none had ever caught him. This whole place was his stomping ground, his home. This is where he went when he didn't want to be found.

And he wasn't the only one.

Izuku slid across a thin bed of piping, ducked under the unstable remains of a pilaster, and ran over a thin steal cable pulled tight by connecting billets that bridged a sheer drop. He passed beneath a pavement light with little more than a whisper.

His intention had been to start at the abandoned steel foundry, right below the side of building who's surveillance video he'd just watched. Voices traveling down the length of a hollow PVC pipe running along the upper corner of the small duct he'd been crawling through made him stop.

"Ugh! It stinks down here, are you kidding me? Why couldn't we meet above ground?" demanded a feminine voice.

"I don't think it's that bad," a second voice replied, male.

"No– you don't get to say that me, Centipeder!" the woman's voice hissed and Izuku's eyes widened at the hero name, "you don't have a nose."

"Fair," said the second voice, now identified as Centipeder, after a pause. "You get anything, Kaniyashiki-san?"

Izuku listened as the woman described the Shie Hassaikai's suspicious Trigger dealings.

"We can confirm that they're conducting experiments to create some kind of injectable bioweapon. From what we've seen so far it has a serious effect on quirks, forcing people to overuse them so hard and so fast some victims literally explode. Right now they've been trying to buy quirkless people from the market, they seem involved in the recent rise of kidnappings but I can substantiate that they're working independently of the ABPE."

ABPE? Izuku thought curiously. He'd never heard of any groups with that abbreviation targeting anidiotropics and had a feeling he wouldn't be able to find anything online but still made a mental note to look into it when he next could.

"Whatever they're trying to create, they need a quirkless person to make it work."

"I see. Thank you, Kaniyashiki-san. Is there anything I should pass along to the police chief about our hero killer?"

"Yeah. The League is trying to recruit him."

Izuku went home that night mulling over what he'd learned about Stain, the LOV, and the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. He would have to ask Atsushi for more info on the latter of the three, just so he could get an idea of what he needed to keep an eye on.

He scratched absently at a bandage on his cheek and opened his umbrella as he walked. The clouds that had gathered after the festival ended were finally opening up.

"Stain's MO doesn't really line up with the LOV so I doubt he'd be interested in joining," he muttered to himself in English, not wholly aware he was doing it, "all the heroes he's targeted thus far have been people who didn't take their jobs seriously or were in some way corrupt. But there are a lot of heroes like that these days so it's hard to tell who his next victim will be…"

Despite the rain Izuku had chosen to take the long way home. It'd help him sort through his thoughts. He was halfway to one of his regular chutes when a strange sound made him stop. He held himself perfectly still, head down, and waited. Greater Musutafu was behind him but that didn't mean he wouldn't still run into Kacchan and he desperately wanted to avoid a confrontation – even if the last time he'd seen him he was apparently trying to protect Izuku, who was clearly having some kind of episode, from a strange old man in a spandex onesie.

When nothing happened he raised his head and looked around. Something gleamed oddly against the lamplight from the second story of a house across the street. Izuku squinted at it, trying to get a better look. He quickly ducked his head and scurried away when he realized it was a camera lens.

Someone in that house had been taking pictures of him.

Had he been found out online? Or was it the LOV keeping an eye on him? A shudder raced up the analyst's spine. It could've been the Shie Hassaikai group. They were large enough to expand far past the slums. His heart started palpating harshly.

Don't get so freaked out. People take candid photos of strangers all the time these days. Or maybe that person had a problem with their camera and they were just testing it out when I happened to pass by? Izuku chewed on the bandage around his index finger and managed to keep an even pace despite his anxiousness. Yeah. Yeah, that had to be it. The world doesn't revolve around you, Deku. Not everything has to be so dramatic. You're going to become a paranoid shut in.

Still, he didn't calm down until he was sure he wasn't being followed. And then, farther up the road he saw a lone figure sitting on a bench in the rain. Izuku's mind processed this new situation with a rabbit-like speed but something stopped him from taking his typical evasive action.

This person…

This person looked sad.

They didn't react as he stepped closer to get a better look. They were about his age and had pale skin, a UA uniform stretched at the collar, candy-cane hair. It looked like someone had roughed them up a little recently but Izuku didn't see any bruises or cuts.

He looked around and found the road empty of all but the two of them. With a sad sigh the analyst stepped forward and held his umbrella out so it would cover the UA student. He waited a while, content in the silence and the sound of rain even as it started to soak through his blazer. From what Iida, Uraraka, and now Tsuyu had told him about their classmates Izuku guessed this person was Todoroki-kun.

And from what Izuku had managed to gather about the Todoroki family that probably meant it was Endeavor that did this.

The analyst didn't bother to ask if he was alright.

"What do you want."

Somehow, the other boy's voice didn't make Izuku flinch. He didn't react even when Todoroki-kun got annoyed by his silence and looked up at him with anger in his heterochromatic eyes. This person's glare couldn't scare Izuku after everything he'd already been through. He'd never worn that particular fashion of anger but he'd seen it between the periods of rehoming he'd endured through the Lights of Hope enough times to recognize it.

"…Mine used to hurt me, too," Izuku said simply, quietly. He shifted his grip on the umbrella and used his other hand to roll up his sleeve as far as it would go, showing a portion of the dark scar that dominated his upper right arm.

Todoroki seemed to finally notice the umbrella hanging over him, glancing at it briefly. A small smile crept on Izuku's face when he saw the other student's eyes soften with surprise. "Do you want to get out of the rain with me? It's pretty late but there's a cat café nearby that should still be open."

"No," Todoroki's expression closed off, becoming cold.

"Ok." Izuku waited silently and didn't push. Minutes of contemplative silence passed between them.

Finally, the UA student held his hands open in front of him and looked at his palms. Izuku watched with wonder as ice formed a rising tower in his right hand but frowned when nothing happened in his left.

"I won't use his power," he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself.

Quickly putting two and two together but somehow no less confused, Izuku cocked his head a little and asked, "do you mean your fire?"

Todoroki-kun snapped his head up and for a second Izuku thought he was going to get punched. "It isn't mine," he hissed venomously.

"But doesn't it come out of you?" Izuku rationalized, just trying to understand the logic. His question must have put a sour taste in the other boy's mouth, judging by the way his expression twisted.

"It does."

"Can he control it? Like telepathically?"

"…no."

Izuku's honest confusion seemed to throw Todoroki-kun off because he just started staring at him.

"I'm sorry," the analyst apologized, "I don't understand."

"I inherited it from him," Todoroki said after a while.

"Oh. I see." Izuku couldn't help but be shamelessly relieved that the other boy was at least free of physical control. The relief manifested itself in a bright, encouraging smile. "Well, then. Why don't you just make it yours?"

Katsuki was beyond pissed. Winning meant shit to him if he was the only one giving it his all. That stupid half-n'-half bastard had as good as patronized him in front of thousands of spectators and the weekend had hardly done much to his bloodlust. He'd spent the entire day seething in barely contained, closely supervised, rage.

"Bakugou! Hey, Bakugou! Wait for me, buddy!" the familiar, enthusiastic voice of hair-for-brains called behind him.

Katsuki hunched his shoulders and snarled. He fought off the urge to turn and punch this persistent extra right in the face with all the strength he had. No matter the way his legs ached for it, Bakugou Katsuki was absolutely not going to run from this persistent pest even if it meant he'd be more likely to get some peace and fucking quiet.

He stopped instead, grinding his teeth together and keeping his back to the insufferable idiot behind him.

"Whew!" Shitty-hair breathed when he caught up, "gosh, you move fast. When I looked around for you after class and you were gone I thought for sure I'd missed you. Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and I were all going to–" He at least had enough sense to stop when Katsuki turned his head to glare.

"Oi, oi, oi," Katsuki started, voice low and laced with warning, "you can't actually believe I'd want to hang out with a low life extra like you, hah? I knew you were fucking stupid but I didn't think you'd be so fucking pathetic too." Shitty-hair frowned at him, looking hurt and dismayed, but Katsuki wasn't finished yet. He stormed forwards, willfully ignoring the way heat gathered in his calloused palms as he got right into Shit-for-brain's face. "Who the fuck would ever want to be your fucking friend, asshole? You think I need dumb shit like you? Fucking disgusting."

"Hey, man–"

"Kacchan!"

Faster than they could react, a green blur body slammed into Katsuki's side and sent him stumbling clumsily, accidentally biting his tongue as he did so. Regaining himself he looked up to find the one and only Deku standing in front of Shitty-hair with his arms out and looking like he'd already lost a fight.

CT: Mentions of child abuse

No Kirishimas were harmed in the making of this fic, I promise.

I apologize for any canonical inconsistencies/OOC going forward. I haven't read the manga since 2017 and things I ordinarily would just know I've forgotten.

In spite of my best efforts I haven't been too great at keeping track of changes and characterizations as this fic progresses, since I haven't been feeling very well, but I'm working on fixing that. Still, there will likely be frustrating errors here and there that I will need to go back and fix. When I change something in previous chapters I'll be sure to make a note about it.

Speaking of: See Bakugou's first POV in this chapter for a few new lines. Updated on the 13th of Jan, 2021.

Sorry, friends. I appreciate your patience with me. Special thanks to those of you, such as fencer29, for the more in-depth reviews. Reviews like these are very important because they can tell me if my readers are understanding/interpreting things the way they're supposed to or if I haven't made things clear enough. Please, also, continue with the X/O system. I value the feedback.

Again, thanks for your patience, and see you all next Tuesday.

Cheers!