Instinct

Inko Midoriya was approximately one more dramatic revelation from bursting into tears for the third time that day. She had first been brought to open weeping by a call at work from the local hospital, informing her that the pro-Hero Death Arms had, with the help of a young girl named Natsuki Bakugou, found her son alive and brought him in for medical treatment. However, she was informed that her beloved Izuku wasn't just alive, but he had changed almost fundamentally in the time since his disappearance.

She had rushed to the hospital in her car, on the brink of violating every speed limit in the prefecture but narrowly avoiding being pulled over. She came to a skidding halt in the parking lot of the hospital, tire's screeching their protest at the sudden friction. She sprinted through the front doors, the fastest she'd moved in several long, childless years, rushing to the empty reception desk. The nurse attendant seemed a little concerned for her, raising a hand as if asking her to slow down.

"My baby!" Inko cried, coming to a stop in front of the desk. "Izuku, my baby! Where is he?"

"Ma'am?" The nurse looked a touch panicked herself, but Inko didn't really care. Her son was alive! He was here! What else mattered besides that?

She looked at the nurse again, trying to collect herself a little. She just needed to ask normally, say her son's name and show that she was his mother. Being a shorter woman, her head and shoulders were the only parts of her visible over the desktop, the rest of her skinny form concealed beneath the desk's edge. After Izuku had disappeared, Inko found it harder to eat, knowing every meal without her son was a meal almost wasted. She had lost weight, going from thin to the brink of being outright underfed, though her friend Mitsuki forced her to eat frequently enough to avoid any serious health concerns.

"I-I'm Inko M-Midoriya..." she explained, trying to calm herself down. "M-my son, Izuku, I-I was told he was here, th-that they found him, is-is he okay?"

"Ma'am?" A new, rumbling voice interjected, just as something heavy came down to touch Inko's shoulder. "Did you say you were Inko Midoriya?"

"Y-yes!" Inko turned and found herself staring at the bottom of a very muscular man's chest clad in tight blue spandex, before slowly looking up to see a square jaw locked in a stoic frown. "O-oh! Y-you m-must be D-Death Arms!"

"Yes." Death Arms nodded. "Mrs. Midoriya, your son is... I believe I'll let the doctors explain. But he isn't hurt."

Inko swallowed. Her son wasn't hurt. He had come back and he wasn't hurt. She could scarcely believe those words, but... she needed to, or she might have just collapsed right there and then. So she looked up at the muscular figure of Death Arms and nodded once, listening intently.

"Can you... can you take me to him?" she asked, and when the hero nodded and beckoned for her to follow, she did so.

Several minutes later, she was crying again.

Her son had changed. His skin was pitch black, his hair longer, his whole body larger. He had a musculature that simply did not belong on a child his age, but he was muscle, skin and bone; he looked underfed, malnourished. There were scars, so many scars, big and small, all over his body. She hugged him and felt the heat emanating from his body, the strange, somewhat rubbery texture of his skin.

Izuku was different. Someone or something had changed him.

But he was alive, and so Inko Midoriya wept tears of joy for his return.

Beside the bed sat her Izuku's old friend, Natsuki. The girl had always been somewhat full of braggadocio when younger, but there was a quiet, almost solemn strength to her now. Once Inko had finished embracing her unconscious son, she rose to her feet and bowed deeply to the blonde girl, who looked surprised to be at the receiving end of a gesture of such respect.

"Thank you," Inko said, smiling a truly grateful smile at the blonde. "For finding my son. For... for bringing him back to me."

"It was nothing..." Natsuki replied, looking perhaps a little flustered, unable to meet Inko's eyes. "I... made a promise to find him, and..."

She swallowed and looked up at Inko, eyes full of a fire Inko just *knew* was the sort heroes were forged in.

"I keep my promises." Natsuki declared. "No matter what."

[X][X][X][X][X]

Detective Komori Tetsuru was never quite sure how on earth he had managed to keep his job. He wasn't particularly intelligent, very much an average student. His Quirk, a simple thing called Light that allowed him to make his hands glow like lanterns, was quite innocuous and didn't really give him an edge in police work. He was of average build, height and weight; the human form of the metaphor 'middle of the road'.

However, he took pride in one thing; his ability to read people. His mother had been a psychiatrist, after all, he was quite capable of identifying people's expressions and what they meant by them. It was his real talent as far as he was concerned, with his Quirk being little more than a party trick that happened to be useful in power outages. Komori specialized in interrogations, a talent that had landed him the rank of detective and a very comfy grey canvas trench coat.

He was glad for the trench coat moreso than his rank at that particular part of his life, as he sat across a young boy calling himself 'Nine', apparently actually named Izuku Midoriya. After having to assure the boy he was not going to hurt him to coax him from the fetal position in the corner of the room, Komori had begun a simple, innocuous round of questions. He had started with simple things, little personal tidbits; what was Izuku, sorry, Nine's favourite colour? (Nine liked yellow and green.) His favourite food? (The crunchy bugs, apparently.) His favourite game? (The fighting game, because he was better at it and that meant no zapping.)

Komori had spent a moment wondering exactly what the hell had happened to Izuku Midoriya to make his favourite food 'the crunchy bugs' and his favourite game 'the fighting game'. It was obvious the boy hadn't exactly been living the high life, what with all the scars and rather evident mental trauma that had reduced him to speaking purely in the third-person and reacting to any and all physical contact with winces and flinching. But the sheer amount of trauma-induced symptoms the boy was clearly exhibiting showed that wherever Izuku Midoriya had gone for three long years, it had been a very dark place.

"So, Nine, where have you been for the last while?" Komori asked.

"Hospital." Midoriya replied, nodding once. "With Mama and Naachan."

"And before the hospital?"

"Running." Midoriya looked concerned, almost guilty. "From Sensei."

Komori swallowed. Progress, but now came the worst part of the job; trying to figure out who 'Sensei' was and why on earth he had abducted a young boy.

"And who is Sensei?" he asked, smiling disarmingly to keep Midoriya calm.

It didn't work.

Midoriya's immediate reaction was to cower, that slight hint of openness and honesty in his eyes disappearing, locked behind a security shutter of fear. His shoulders hunched slightly, his head dropping so he stared at the table instead of meeting Komori's gaze. The slightest hint of a tremble in his shoulders, his heart rate almost audibly increasing.

Komori leaned forward, letting his folded hands rest on the table, before opening them slowly. One of Midoriya's eyes, apparently independent of the other, tracked the motion. The exact nature of his Quirk was still unknown, but this was not in the short memo he had received from the Death Arms hero agency. Komori laid flat hands on the table, before smiling at Midoriya again. The boy's eye tracked upward, the other syncing with it again.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Nine." Komori bowed his head, letting his hands glow every so slightly. "This is the extent of my Quirk. If you wanted to, you could beat me in an instant were I to try and attack you. I've read about your power. You have nothing to fear from me. I simply want the truth; who is Sensei?"

Midoriya stared at his luminescent palms, eyes unmoving and expression unchanging for a long, worrying moment. Then he slowly bowed his head again, staring at the table once more. He was no longer quaking with fear, and his posture loosened ever so slightly. He swallowed, a soft gulping sound.

"Sensei made Nine…" he said, voice low, deadpan. "Sensei made Nine from Zu-Zuku, but Zu-Zuku was weak and Nine was made to be strong. But Nine... too small, not strong and only good for getting chopped and punched so other numbers could be better. Nine was smart, but smart for numbers, not for people. No thinking right, no doing words right… Shigi say 'stupid Nine' and touch it and its arms go away but come back."

Komori just stared. Words failed him for several long moments, before he reached a tentative hand out toward Midoriya, touching him softly on the head. The sound Midoriya made was half the whimper of a kicked dog and half the purr of a cat, an unconscious flinch removing his head from Komori's touch. Komori swallowed, hard.

"Nine…" he tried, before faltering and then trying again. "Nine… w-would you like to see your mother?"

"Mama?" Midoriya looked up at that, hope dawning in his eyes.

"Y-yes… I'm going to need to talk to some people, and your moth- Mama would love to see you in the meantime." Komori said, forcing a smile. "And your friend, the girl…"

"Naachan and Mama?" Midoriya smiled, a real smile, and Komori was once again reminded that this was a child, that he was dealing with a boy who was about eight years old. He fought to stop his fists from clenching and bowed.

"Your mother and friend will be here in just a minute, so please wait patiently." he instructed, before turning and quickly exiting the room.

Once the door was shut behind him, he let himself slump, back hitting the wall beside the door frame, reaching up to almost unconsciously adjust his coat so it was a little tighter around him. An uncomfortable mixture of sadness and rage filled him, accompanied by something like disgust. Sadness that a child had to experience something like that. Anger that someone would dare put the boy through it all. And disgust for that same person.

Komori Tetsuru wasn't sure how on earth it was he kept his job. But he now remembered why he stuck with it. Because of people like Izuku Midoriya, who were hurt by the very crimes he was sworn to prevent. Because of people like Inko Midoriya, who spent years suffering because her son had been taken from her. And because of people like the one who had taken and tortured young Izuku Midoriya.

Because bringing that son of a bitch to justice would make every last moment of struggle to reach this position worth it.

[X][X][X][X][X]

In the distance, Natsuki Bakugou could hear sirens. It was this sound that stirred her from sleep, even though she knew it was likely an ambulance returning from its journey with some poor injured or sickly soul inside. She blearily blinked sleep from her eyes, looking all around the hospital room. The gurney was there, the pen and pad were still on the bedside table, Izuku's mom had gone home so she knew why that chair was empty. There was something off, something wrong. The lights were off, sure, but it was seemingly nighttime. What could be wrong about that?

The realization hit her in an instant. Izuku wasn't in his bed. In fact, he was nowhere in sight. Natsuki rose to her feet, looking all around, panicking. She froze when she saw something move in the shadowy corner of the room by the window overlooking the hospital's garden. It was black on black, a shadow in the darkness. It took her a long moment to realize it was Izuku, staring out the window, down at the garden.

"Izuku…?" she said his name, the word spoken with a voice that was more a yawn than it was speech. "Izuku, what're you doing?"

Izuku looked at her, eyes glowing in the darkness. It was a little freaky to see nothing but two circles of green in the shadow, peering out at her, but Natsuki pushed herself out of the chair and yawned, moving toward him. He didn't move, standing stock still. She could hear his breathing; slow, steady. He was calm, she figured.

"Nine was looking…" he said, voice low. "At the trees and flowers. It… it want a flower."

"You want a flower?" Natsuki asked, leaning against the wall on the other side of the window. "Want me to go get you one?"

"No… not for Nine, flowers not for Nine…" Izuku looked out at the garden again. "Flower for Naachan… for thanking."

Natsuki cocked an eyebrow at that, looking closer at him. Izuku was no longer looking at her, but it seemed like he was forcing himself to look away. His skin was pitch black, true, but she could almost detect the faintest flush of something else, something like pink, in amongst the darkness of his complexion. Was he blushing?

"You want to get me flowers?" she asked. "To… to thank me? For finding you?"

"No…" he shook his head, looking back at her again. "Sensei want Nine to be for killing, but Nine… Nine remember Naachan, so no killing. Naachan stopped it. Only hitting until not moving, but still breath. No killing. Naachan and Mama be mad if killing."

Natsuki found herself reaching out to touch a hand to Izuku's head, gently ruffling his hair. He made a sound like a dog, a gentle rumbling in his throat. He was as tall as her, a lot taller than he'd been when he had disappeared. Of course, he'd also gained a bunch of other new details and changes, so this wasn't much special.

"No killing." she agreed, staring down at the garden. "Heroes don't kill. And we're…"

She paused, looking at Izuku again. His eyes were closed, his whole body shivering with puppy-like delight. He was rubbing his head against her hand, making more of those animal sounds of pleasure.

"We're gonna be heroes… right?" she asked, almost wishing she didn't.

"Heroes…?" Izuku said the word like it was the first time. "Naachan… number one hero. Gonna be… and Zu-Zuku want be a hero. Fight and protect people. Help. Lots of help. But…"

He pulled away from her hand, looking at his hospital bed, then out at the garden, anywhere but her face. He looked anxious, afraid, blinking slowly.

"Nine… monster, not hero, for fighting…" he shook his head wildly. "Nine not for hero. Zu-Zuku gone, only Nine, Nine monster… Nine not Zu-Zuku…"

Natsuki swallowed back a lump of something she was afraid to deal with stuck in her throat. Her eyes grew hot, tears pricking at the corners despite her desperate insistence in her heart that she wasn't going to cry, that she was going to be strong for Izuku. Izuku needed her to be strong, because Izuku was hurt and it was her job to protect him. Because that's what a hero did.

Izuku didn't want to be a hero. Or, Nine didn't want to be a hero. Whichever one it was. She didn't now. She couldn't. All she knew was that she couldn't accept that answer. Not now, not after she'd finally found him, not now that he was strong and could stand beside her. Not now that he was here.

"No…" Natsuki shook her head. "FUCK no."

She swore as her mother swore, because her sadness was turning into anger. Because she needed Izuku to understand. Because she was scared and didn't know what to do with all this fear inside her. So she put a hand on Izuku's shoulder, a firm hand, and squeezed tight.

"You're gonna be a hero too, Izuku." she declared, and her voice would brook no argument. "You're going to be a hero with me. We're going to save people. And we're gonna kick the hell out of villains, and we're gonna do it together."

"Nine… hero?" Izuku said, blinking at her. "Nine… hero with… with Naachan? Number one hero?"

"Yes." Natsuki nodded, before putting her other hand on his chest. "Natsuki and Izuku. Heroes. Together. And if you think I'm gonna let you dip out now, you've got another thing coming. Got it?"

"Nine…" Izuku rubbed his face with both hands, palms on his cheeks. "Nine… hero with Naachan, together… Nine… being hero… a hero…"

"A hero." Natsuki declared, before looking at the table beside the hospital gurney. "Come on. I have an idea."

She led him to the bedside table, to the pad and pen. She took the pen and shook it, before jotting something down in her impeccable kanji, tongue between her teeth as she wrote on the first page. Izuku looked over her shoulder, blinking. Hopefully he could still read…

She showed it to him, clicking on the bedside lamp. She blinked at the light, but he seemed to ignore the change, staring at the paper pad with widened eyes. Natsuki watched him read the kanji, swallowing back her nervousness and smiling at him. It was a jagged smile, an attempt at reassurance. It wasn't perfect.

'Hero Analysis for the Future Number Two', the pad read. 'By Natsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya.'

AN:

How about them Izuku feels, huh? I find one of the most important parts of writing this for me has actually been making it clear that Izuku has changed, since I've read a fair few stories in a similar vein to this one where Izuku remains basically the same despite a wildly different childhood, being all analytical and stuttering and nervous and cute and such. I want to get hints of that across (hopefully my efforts were not in vain) while still making this a different Deku from the one you've normally seen.

Hopefully Natsuki's future identity is also hinted at the way I intended it to be. If you're worried she feels nothing like Katsuki, don't be; the angry, swear-y pomeranian with a murderboner we all love is gonna be in here, kind of. Obviously a different childhood once again changes things, but hey; somebody needs to be the angry one on the team.

Komori is basically an OC. Don't expect too much from him; I like jotting down little side characters to mix things up and give myself new POVs to work from. Also, the opening scene of this chapter made me want to break my own head. I'll probably change it in the future some time.

As one final note, Izuku's Quirk is going to be called 'It Will Not Die', and the title alone should probably tell you what it does. Anybody able to place the reference in their review gets a cookie and a namedrop in next chapters AN, I suppose.

Hope you enjoyed; next chapter should be up in a few days. Keep the reviews coming and thanks for your feedback, and I'll see you in the next one!