The weeks following the midterm, Izuku fell comfortably into his new routine. The only changes added being weekends with Mirko and sparring sessions with Bakugo every day of the week. But still, he looked forward to it. Learning to trust his quirk and his body to react to the punches thrown. He sparred the most with Bakugo, but sometimes Bakugo made him fight Kirishima or Iida or Sero or all three at the same time and corrected him from the sidelines.
Mirko was satisfied with his development. Just as Mina had warned, he came back exhausted and dragging his feet every time. He loved the late nights patrolling, traveling to different cities, getting to know the police, and learning how hero work was done. But there were the afternoons he and Mirko sat on the roof of her apartment eating lunch after their morning training session that he was growing to love the most.
She happily answered his questions about various pro-heroes and listened to him babble about combat training and what they were learning. In return, she relentlessly teased him and questioned his past with Bakugo. He always answered vaguely, and she always begrudgingly accepted that.
She was strong and brave and unapologetically herself in every situation. She never flinched in a fight, always wore a smile. Izuku wanted to be like her.
More than anything he wanted her to be proud of him, to say well done, and every time she smiled at him or gave a satisfied nod, Izuku felt a little closer to that reality.
So, he trained hard. 100% every time, all he had.
He ducked under Bakugo's punch, dropping to the floor to swipe his legs. Bakugo cursed, firing off a blast to counter that fall. As he stumbled back, Izuku hit hard forcing Bakugo into defense. Bakugo took several more steps back, gritting his teeth, palms crackling. Izuku aimed for his face, making Bakugo raise his arms, and, in that moment, he left himself open, and Izuku nailed a kick to his ribs.
Izuku took a step back as Bakugo fell to the ground, clutching his side.
Bakugo glared up at Izuku, smoke curling around him. "You don't win till you finish me, Deku," he spat, blasting forward.
Izuku dodged and raised his arm to the kick that followed the counterblast. He grabbed Bakugo's leg, using his momentum against him, and throwing him to the ground. This time Izuku didn't hesitate. He planted a knee on Bakugo's chest and pinned his arms at his wrists. "Happy, Kacchan?"
Bakugo's lip curled back in a twisted smile. "Hesitate again and I'll tell Mirko."
Izuku shivered, remembering the last time Bakugo must've given Mirko a less than stellar report. They spent the entire first day in the gym relearning the basics and running drills.
Izuku huffed and let Bakugo go, but kept the knee on his chest, knowing he was enjoying it entirely too much.
Bakugo narrowed his eyes up at Izuku. "Only took you two months to beat me once. Not that you'd win in a real fight."
Izuku gave him a deadpan look and pressed his knee down a little harder. "Need I remind you of the final, Kacchan? You were so easy to control," he drawled and leaned closer, heart beating hard and steady in his chest. "I didn't have near the training then as I have now." He leaned even closer, hearing Bakugo's sharp intake of breath as his eyes narrowed. Izuku couldn't help the smile that curled his lips as he remembered Bakugo's stunned expression during that fight so long ago. "You win because I let you, Kacchan."
He was yanked closer as Bakugo's hands curled into his shirt, hot and smoking, their noses almost brushing. "Don't get cocky because you won one spar," Bakugo growled dangerously low.
Feeling brave, Izuku grabbed Bakugo's wrists and pinned his hands again. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kacchan." Izuku held him for a moment longer and then got up and walked off the mat to his bag.
It was a long, pressing silence before Bakugo asked, "When's your train?"
"Six," Izuku answered, scrolling through the missed messages in Mina's Squad. He gave Bakugo an apologetic look over his shoulder. "You'll have to chop your own vegetables."
Behind him, Bakugo made an annoyed sound. "Why the hell are you in such a good fucking mood?"
Izuku put on his backpack and slipped his phone into his pocket. "Because I beat you." He grinned at Bakugo's fury.
"You got lucky, nerd, don't get used to it."
Izuku gave him a thoughtful look. "I would like to get used to it, so I guess I'll just have to beat you every time." He shrugged as if there were no other option. "Good thing I have a great teacher." He waved goodbye, ignoring how Bakugo's hands sparked. "Thanks for the lesson, Kacchan. See you after the weekend."
Izuku swung by his dorm to pick up his things and then headed towards the train station. It wasn't a long ride, just to the next city over. It would be a busy weekend from what Mirko had told him. He hurried through the city to the hotel she was staying at. When he got into the elevator he relaxed, not even realizing he'd been holding himself so tight.
He thought back to the spar earlier feeling embarrassed now. You win because I let you.
He smacked a hand against his forehead sure he was finally going insane. It wasn't exactly a lie per se, if Izuku really used his quirk he would win, but it felt boastful and wrong because Bakugo was a much better fighter.
Izuku had never bothered to keep count of the amount of times Bakugo had pinned and beaten him during a spar. In the beginning, it was expected, taking the corrections to heart and learning to trust himself and his fighting skills. Now, the times Bakugo outright beat him were few and far between. Usually, they ended in a draw, with aching muscles and labored breaths. But that had been the first time Izuku came out on top, and it had felt so good, too good.
Izuku stepped off the elevator as it opened and walked down the hall to Mirko's room.
Maybe it had felt good because he had been so close to Bakugo and that it had lasted more than a split second. How he'd been able to pick out the different shades of red in Bakugo's irises. Or how his face had been flushed from exertion. Or the sound when Bakugo's lips had parted, just slightly, and the breath he took in hissed through his teeth. Or maybe it was how warm his skin had been so close to his hands, where Izuku had pinned him to the mat not once but twice.
Izuku gulped, feeling something rush under his skin because he was sure Bakugo had been fighting his grip and Izuku had only wavered slightly and had tightened his hold in response. Now that Izuku thought about it, Bakugo hadn't called him scrawny in a few weeks.
Izuku looked down at himself as he came to a stop outside of Mirko's room. From his training with All Might, he knew he was still steadily gaining weight, even better now that he was eating all his meals regularly. Izuku supposed he had gotten quite a bit stronger, but he was only just over halfway to his goal. All Might was still confident about him meeting that mark by the end of summer.
All that to say, Bakugo was still stronger than him and the more Izuku thought about it the more he wasn't convinced he'd truly won. Izuku thought maybe that the angle had given him more leverage, but Bakugo had been. . .oddly quiet throughout the whole thing. Plus, Izuku hadn't immobilized his legs, in fact, now that he really thought about it, he'd put his knee a little high pushing his center of gravity forward. All Bakugo would've had to do was push his lower body forward and then. . .
Izuku dropped the case that held his suit as a wave of hot anger surged through him.
Had Bakugo thrown the fight?
Just the thought had Izuku teeth grinding and hands balling into fists. It made no sense. Why would he do that? That was so incredibly unlike him. Did Bakugo really see him as such a weak opponent that he would throw a fight? To help Izuku? Had Mirko said something to him? None of it made sense, it wasn't like either of them, it couldn't possibly be the answer. But then why. . .
Before his internal rant could go any further, the door opened, and Mirko looked him up and down. "You just going to stand here all night?"
Izuku blinked at her, the anger zapped from his body. Izuku shivered from the chill it left behind. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came.
She frowned as she saw the case on the ground, laying on its side, clearly dropped. "Izuku," she said, the sternness in her voice brought back a sense of clarity to his mind. He must've imagined it; Bakugo would never throw a fight. He'd won and that was the end of it.
"Sorry, it's been a long day," he apologized, bending to pick the case up.
Mirko looked suspicious as she opened the door further to let him in. "Starstruck from winning a spar?" she asked, but there was none of her usual mirth in her voice.
Izuku set down the case and his duffle bag slowly in the room, taking as much time as he could get away with. He kept his back to her, feeling entirely exposed. He was the mind reader, could know people within seconds, but the way she was able to deduce his actions and emotions with just a few twitches of her ears unnerved him.
He looked back at her. She was watching him, arms crossed over her chest as her dark red eyes flitted over him, brows drawn low over her eyes. "You're not happy about it, are you?"
"I just—" his words cut off and he shifted his eyes to the floor. "I don't know. In the moment it felt great." He shrugged, annoyed that he couldn't let the feeling that Bakugo had let him win go. "But I could've done better. I didn't deserve to win," he finally said, lifting his eyes as Mirko came to stand in front of him.
She shrugged one shoulder, the corner of her mouth pulling back in a smile that wasn't quite her usual smirk. It was softer, maybe a bit more understanding. "Well, Bakugo did say your holds need work."
Izuku relaxed, letting out a stiff breath through his nose. So, Bakugo had been aware, but then why didn't he—
"And he said you had beaten him and that your speed has improved." Then she smiled fondly. "Had to drag that out of him though," she muttered, smirk returning. "Now, come on, we have work to discuss."
Izuku followed her over to the bed where a mess of papers were laid out, deciding to let the spar go. She curled up in the misted of them and Izuku found an open spot near the foot of the bed. He caught a book she threw at him. A menu.
"Order us dinner." Then she pulled a wolfish grin. "The agency is paying for it."
Izuku smiled as he took the phone she offered him. Order placed, he looked at her expectantly.
"Alright," she said, clapping her hands together, "we have a meeting with the police chief at two." She handed him a police report. "Read that before the meeting. Part of the reason I was contracted for this operation is your quirk."
Izuku looked up from the report he was flipping through, eyes wide. "M-Me?"
She nodded, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him. "As an undercover agent. This yakuza is secretive, and the police have had no luck getting someone on the inside."
Izuku looked back down at the report feeling unsure.
"The plan is for you to either read their thoughts to figure out their main location or use your manipulation to gain access." Her voice drew tight towards the end and Izuku wondered if she was remembering about a month ago when he'd had to use manipulation to stop an erratic villain from causing harm to civilians nearby. He'd flinched from shifting shadows for hours after. It was minor, and he'd told her that, but that seemed to only make her more concerned.
So, he'd asked her how she deals with fear and her smile took on a sorrowful tone, turning down at the corners like it might be a grimace from a different angle, and she told him she lets herself feel it for a few seconds and then she buries it. She moves on, and then she smiled wide again, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Izuku was beginning to realize it never really did.
"I'll do whatever they need me to," he said.
Izuku pulled on the bullet-proof vest, reminding himself that this was another part of hero work. "It's just a precaution. You won't be in any danger," the police chief assured. But Izuku didn't see
how that could be true when he was attempting to infiltrate a tight-knit yakuza. "We just need you to find their hideout and then leave."
Izuku nodded as he adjusted the hoodie over the vest. "What if something goes wrong?"
The chief tensed. "We've been tagging this yakuza for years. If something goes wrong before you discover the location of the hideout and who their leader is, you will have to use your quirk to escape." Izuku made a stressed hum in the back of his throat and the chief raised a brow. "Your quirk is able to do that, correct?"
"Yes," Izuku bit out, swallowing the sour taste in his mouth.
"Don't worry kid, you'll do great," Mirko said, setting a hand on his shoulder. There was a sternness in her voice and Izuku understood that it was an order, not encouragement.
Izuku felt the tension in his shoulders relax and he smiled back.
"Detective Handa here will give you a rundown on all the information we currently know about active yakuza members," the chief said, motioning to the projector screen.
Izuku took notes as the detective explained and he committed faces to memory. A yakuza of quirkless members that specialized in black market gun trades. The yakuza had been on the police's radar for years, but it was the recent abductions and suspected murders of people with quirks that had the police planning the raid.
His stomach twisted and when he asked the chief what he should do in the case that there were hostages, the chief had said, very plainly, "You alert us when you locate their stronghold." Izuku had seen the way Mirko's hand drew into a fist under the table and she pushed for a better plan.
"I want to know you're backup plan," she said, chin lifting. "I won't send my student into a half- assed mission." The chief and the detective stiffened, affronted. Mirko leaned back in her chair, her piercing gaze not softening as she waited for an answer.
"In the case that Deku is in immediate danger, we'll have teams ready to storm the building, and you, of course, Mirko," the chief explained, shoulders drawn back with authority. "However, from the description of your quirk, you shouldn't have any trouble escaping safely," the chief said, pointedly looking at Izuku.
Izuku schooled his expression and wondered exactly how much they knew.
"There have been no recent missing person reports," the detective said, "so we do not expect hostages to be a factor."
"Seems optimistic," Mirko scoffed, gesturing to the thick file laid before them. "They're suspected of three murders this month alone."
The detective nodded grimly. "Still, we don't expect hostages, but we have made a plan in the event." When Mirko's brow furrowed, he said, "I've been following this yakuza for years. I will not leave any loose threads."
She seemed to accept that with a single nod. "Alright. How do we get Deku in?"
The detective relaxed a bit and looked at Izuku. "This man"—he motioned to one of the headshots —"is a recruiter. We've witnessed him making first contact with new recruits. You'll need to gain his trust first. However, none of our plants have gained enough trust to be presented the initiation."
Izuku nodded as he picked up the photograph and studied the man's features.
"We don't believe he has access to the boss or upper-level members, because every person has entered and exited at the same safe house. Most of the recruits are turned away, which is why we've had trouble getting within their ranks." The detective slid Izuku a small device with a long wire. "We'll be listening to everything while you're on the inside." He gave Izuku a pointed look. "Verbal answers would be appreciated."
Izuku stood from his chair and lifted the hoodie to attach the wire. His fingers trembled slightly with the thrill of it. "Verbal answers. Got it."
"Aside from the recruiter, we're unsure of the roles the other members play," the detective continued. "And we're certain we've never seen the boss." Izuku looked over the confirmed yakuza members as the detective said, "We need the leader for this plan to work. We need to cut the head off the snake."
Izuku met his gaze. There was suspicion there, Izuku didn't need to use his quirk to see it. This plan revolved around him infiltrating a dangerous yakuza in a single night when the police and all their resources had failed for years. It was desperate. A shot in the dark and they were trusting him.
Izuku's stomach sunk like a rock. "You can count on me."
It was late afternoon turning evening when he started down the street to where the recruiter was supposed to be. Izuku buried his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and peered at the road before him from under the hood. His heart raced and his hands were sticky with sweat.
He slowed when the man came into view, leaning against a building, chatting with several other people. Izuku pressed into his mind, drawing his attention. Me. I'd make a good recruit. The man smiled and waved him over. Izuku pretended to be confused and look over his shoulder like perhaps the man was waving to someone else. He just laughed and waved Izuku over again.
The other men watched Izuku approach curiously, eyes raking him over. Izuku shivered from the predatory feel of it. "Need somethin'?" Izuku asked chin lifted to look the man in the eye.
He smiled slowly, going wide and tight at the edges as Izuku wove thoughts in his head. "I know a quirkless man when I see one."
Izuku rose his brows in feigned surprise. "How could you tell?"
The man's smile tipped up in one corner. "Only someone cast out by society can carry themselves like you."
Izuku stilled for a moment. He sometimes forgot how many years he'd pretended to be quirkless and how badly he'd been treated as a result. So, maybe there was some truth in what the man said. Perhaps Izuku did carry himself differently.
Izuku pushed the thought aside and focused on his mission.
"How would you like some revenge?" His smile pulled tighter to that one side and the other men grinned the same, something foreboding and dangerous about it. A warning perhaps.
"Revenge?" Izuku drawled, the smile on his face not completely false as he remembered the last
time someone had asked him that question. "I think I'd like that very much." The man crossed his burly arms over his chest. "Can you fight?"
Izuku smirked. "Wanna test me?" You do.
"Come with me," he said, pushing off the wall.
Izuku followed, tensing as the other men circled around him with radiating suspicion. He searched their minds as they walked, pushing aside their concerns and plucking information.
He was brought to the safe house the police had photographed. Everything going according to plan.
The house was bare of furniture or anything that would've made it livable. It was empty, busted wall to busted wall.
A chill shot up his spine and he ducked under a punch aimed at his head. He drove his heal into the ribs of the person, gritting his teeth as something in the man popped. Izuku took a step back from where the man lay and sized up the three other men. The recruiter leaned against the wall watching with amusement. Izuku had a sneaking suspicion that this initiation was why so few made it into the yakuza.
He raised his fists and narrowed his eyes. "Well?" he taunted. "If you're going to try and jump me, at least make it a challenge."
That wiped the smirks off their faces.
Izuku was suddenly very glad that Bakugo had made him fight multiple people at the same time during their training sessions. Still, Izuku's stomach churned as he flexed his fists, struggling to stay loose, wishing he had his gloves or at least wraps.
"Well?" Izuku said again, raising an impatient brow. All three charged at once.
Izuku avoided using his fists as much as possible. Instead, he drove his knees and elbows into the soft parts of their bodies they foolishly left exposed. They crumbled, one by one, till the last standing was the recruiter.
He was still leaning against the wall, but the smirk was gone, and his eyes were narrowed, suspicion rolling off him.
Izuku straightened and steadied his breath as he reached into the recruiter's mind. The man relaxed after a moment and came towards Izuku.
"Where did you learn to fight like that, boy?"
Izuku shrugged. "Bullies like to pick on the quirkless kid. Learned a few tricks over the years." The man nodded, anger flaring in his eyes.
"So, what is this?" Izuku asked, nodding to the empty house.
The man looked him up and down with judgment. "We're Erased." And his grin returned, curled against his teeth with fury. "Forgotten, shunned, erased by society. Seen as less than. Freaks as if most of human history it hasn't been the other way around." His voice was so righteous and as a
show of strength, he pulled a pistol from his waistband. "And we're going to remind those freaks that they're still human."
Izuku kept his expression schooled as he looked at the gun. He'd never seen one up close before. He flicked his eyes up to the man's and forced a smirk, determination flaring in his chest with a painful pound of his heart. "How do I join?"
The man glanced at his friends beginning to pick themselves up with groans and his grin fell. Take me to your leader. I'm special.
Izuku stared blankly as the man drew back and stepped away to make a call on his phone. "What's your name, boy?" he asked, still on the phone.
"Endo," Izuku answered.
After a minute, he hung up and looked over Izuku again. "Boss wants to see you." The glint in his eyes made Izuku grit his teeth. "Hope you impress."
Izuku smiled and looked down at the men still laying on the ground. "I plan to."
The man momentarily looked amused and motioned for Izuku to follow him. Izuku took in the new room of the house with mild interest and confusion. The man pulled a tab on the floor that revealed a space dug into the ground big enough to fit a person through.
Izuku gave the man an incredulous look. "A tunnel?"
"You first," he said, sweeping his hand towards the entrance.
Izuku looked down into it. A short ladder nearly swallowed up in the pitch black. He climbed down praying that the tracker was working. He stepped back as the man climbed in and pulled the trap door closed behind him, and darkness swallowed them whole.
"Walk straight," he ordered, giving Izuku a slight shove.
Izuku stumbled on the rough ground and used his hands to steady himself on the walls, fingers trailing across the damp earth. They didn't walk far before he walked straight into a solid surface. Izuku rubbed his nose, cursing.
"There's a knob."
Izuku hated the snicker in his voice. He couldn't wait to get this over with. He pulled open the door and had to shield his eyes from the sudden light. He blinked rapidly as he stepped into the large room. A warehouse of some sort. As his eyes adjusted, he realized the room was quite dim, the windows covered completely.
There were maybe twenty people inside, all looking at him as he stepped forward.
"What is this?" Izuku asked, reaching into the recruiter's mind and willing him to answer. "Where the magic happens," he said, grinning proudly. "Your new future beings here." Izuku nodded, careful to keep his expression only vaguely interested.
"So, this is the boy, Goda?" a woman asked, looking Izuku over.
"He's a strong fighter."
She quirked a brow at him and then looked back at Izuku, turning her head slightly as if seeing him from a different angle. "Why do you want to join the Erased?"
Izuku pressed into her mind as he said, "All my life I've been beaten and treated less than because I lack a quirk." He drew his hand into a fist. "I may be able to fight back now, but I want to make them suffer the way I did."
She smiled, believing him without question. It was so similar to her story after all. But she wasn't the leader, which led him to scour her memories as she explained their purpose and goal.
"Are you still interested?" she asked, looking down her nose at him. Izuku gulped hard as her thoughts entered him.
They didn't plan to let him leave alive if he refused.
"I am," he said, voice steady.
She tilted her head again, resting a hand on her hip. "Lucky for you," she drawled, licking her lips.
Izuku stiffened again, breath hitching hard.
"You can be initiated today," she said as she turned around and waved to other members.
Izuku kept his hands in fists to hide their shake. He let their thoughts enter him, panic starting to creep in as a tarp was laid down and he knew what was coming.
He had to block out their thoughts as they fondly began remembering their initiations. He swallowed slowly, praying that the nausea swirling his stomach wouldn't rise.
"What's this?" Izuku asked, unable to help how his voice was strained at the edges.
The man dropped on the tarp was beaten, possibly shot, barely awake, as he wheezed to breathe. When Izuku reached into his mind he was barely coherent, and his only thoughts were of pure fear. Izuku soothed him as best he could in the moment.
Another man stepped forward that Izuku hadn't seen before. Their leader. He looked down at the beaten man, a strange, satisfied, and indifferent smile on his face as he pushed the man onto his back. His smile pulled wider, a thin line of teeth showing as the man wheezed under the boot pressed to his chest. After a moment, he looked up at Izuku, that smile remaining.
"Endo, right?" he asked, standing casually with his hands in his pockets as if they were old friends meeting again.
Izuku pressed into his mind. "Yes," he said. "I want to join you."
The man shrugged; corners of his mouth turned down. "I don't care about what you want. I only care about what you do." He stepped up to Izuku, his eyes never leaving Izuku's. "What are you willing to do, Endo?"
Izuku was silent for a deliberate moment. "Whatever it takes to get my revenge."
"Good," he said, voice gravelly and low as he nodded. He held out his hand, palm out. A pistol
was placed in his hand and he handed it to Izuku. "Prove it." He stepped aside, inclining his head to
the man now forced into a sitting position by another member. "This man has a quirk that can make his bones stretch." He sneered, "He tried to pickpocket one of my guys. I was going to kill him myself but"—he looked at Izuku, taking a step towards him—"you have perfect timing. Kill him. Prove your alliance to our cause."
Izuku felt the surprising weight of the gun in his hand, solid and cold. There were four more ready to be drawn if he refused.
He blocked out their thoughts for a moment so he could think and get air into his burning lungs. Izuku looked down at the man, his eyes opened in weak slits, bloodshot and swollen, but his cheeks were wet with helpless tears.
"You want me to kill him?" Izuku asked, lifting the weapon higher as he stared at the man, soothing his thoughts and distracting himself from the fact that he was pointing a deadly weapon at a man.
"I do." He grinned and stepped back.
Izuku felt his heart thud painfully in his chest as he looked at the man, slumping forward with a moan. There was blood pooling on the tarp. Izuku gulped, gun slipping in his hand as he sweat.
He was supposed to leave. Use his quirk to get out.
But he couldn't. But there was so much blood. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't— And the guns.
They had guns. Two aiming at him now. He couldn't—
They'd kill the man the moment they realized he was gone. He couldn't—
What would Mirko do?
Izuku narrowed his eyes. She wouldn't leave someone who so clearly needed help. No matter how dangerous the situation.
Izuku sucked in a deep breath and let himself feel the fear that coursed through his body, registered that someone was curling their fingers around the trigger and applying pressure, let it bring tears to his eyes and close off his throat, and then he buried it deep and forced his way into all their minds, scrambling their thoughts. He stumbled forward with a gasp as his vision spotted and disoriented, vaguely feeling like someone had hit him in the back of the head. He gave himself a moment to adjust to the strain and then focused on the man. Izuku knelt down beside him and helped him up.
The pain was starting, throbbing behind his eyes. He glared up at the people in the room still frozen with a confused expression as the man put his entire, sagging body weight on Izuku.
Izuku pushed himself up, carrying the man with him. But he stumbled, falling back to one knee. He wasn't sure if he could do it. The pain—
I don't care if you are dying, in the worst pain of your life, when you come out of the situation, you better be smiling. You better let them know that you can't be beaten. You better be standing with your head held high.
Izuku lifted his face, pushing himself up again, and took one step forward, wincing as his head swam from the strain. He dug in deeper and forced himself to take another step. He pushed back against the twenty minds rushing with confusion, closing his eyes as his head split.
When you think you're at your limit and you think you can't go on, you do. You go further than you
ever have before.
He took another step towards the door on the far side of the room, carrying the man on his back.
With each step he wove another command to stay where they were, to forget that he had been there. To forget about the guns they had at their disposal. When his hand wrapped around the doorknob his body sagged. He pulled it open, lifting his head as he did.
You're a hero. You need to be strong because they need you on the worst day of their life.
It was finally hitting him, as police cars swarmed the area, what Mirko had meant when she said that. The police rushed past him and into the building. Izuku held himself up, taking every bit of strength and resolve to do so, but he carried the man out and he stood up straight and he kept his face up and he smiled through the pain that lingered when he dropped the control, focusing on just taking one more step after the other.
The paramedics took the man from him and Izuku stumbled from the sudden weight missing and he watched them place the man on a stretcher and load him into the ambulance. A hand on his cheek drew his attention away and he stared at Mirko his mind too numb to try and decipher the look on her face, but it still made his chest warm and the throbbing in his head not so painful.
"I'm proud of you," Mirko said quietly, so only he could hear. "You're exactly what a hero should look like."
Izuku blinked and felt tears slip down his cheeks. "I was scared," he admitted, the words falling out before he could stop them.
She smiled lightly and pulled her hand away. "That's ok. You came out smiling and that's what's important."
Izuku nodded, the motion making him wince.
Mirko gripped his shoulder tight, looking up at him. "You did good today, Deku." Then she looked at the ambulance driving away, siren and lights flaring. "He's alive because of you."
Izuku's shoulders slumped. "I need to rest."
Just as she opened her mouth to answer, the police started bringing out the yakuza members. They were quiet and subdued. When some of them spotted Izuku they stared in bewildered fury, mouths gaping.
Mirko patted him on the back, signature smirk in place. "Let's go, kid."
Izuku knew he needed to sleep, but he couldn't stop himself from pulling out his phone and dialing Hatsume's number the moment they got back to the hotel room. He sunk down against the wall in the bathroom with the lights left off, listing to the ringing.
"Hello?"
"Hats," Izuku breathed, relief flooding him at the sound of her voice. He heard a shuffle on the other end. "You won't believe what I did today."
"Am I going to see it on the news tomorrow?" He could hear the smile in her voice.
Honestly, he hadn't considered that the news would report on it, but they probably would given the
size of the operation. He vaguely recalled flashes of light while the yakuza members were brought out. Probably cameras. "Yeah, actually. It might be a big deal." He dragged a hand down his face, messaging his temples. "I helped take down a yakuza."
She gasped. "Seriously? Was it dangerous?"
He thought about how heavy the gun had felt in his hand and the four others aimed at his head. "You could say that."
There was a bloated pause that followed. "Are you ok?"
Izuku thought maybe his voice had revealed more than he had meant to. "I am," he breathed, voice airy with the promise of tears. "I saved someone though, so it's ok."
"You saved someone?" Her voice was so gentle and Izuku pressed the phone harder against his cheek like that might bring her closer.
"I did, I—" He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I carried him out and he's safe now."
She was silent again for a while and just when Izuku was beginning to wonder if he got disconnected, she said, "Izuku?"
He soaked in the sound of her saying his name so he would never forget. "Yeah?"
"I always knew you were a hero." There was another pause as he heard her take in a breath. "It was my best-kept secret." Izuku felt his eyes flood at the way her voice broke like she was smiling through a sob. He couldn't even imagine Hatsume crying. He couldn't— "Now the world is going to know." She definitely sniffled. "I'm so proud of you, Izuku."
Izuku closed his eyes and the tears spilled down his cheeks. He drew his knees up and tangled a hand in his hair. "I was so scared," he half sobbed. "I was terrified." He bit his lip hard, grounding himself for a moment. "Thank you, Hatsume, you're the best friend I could ever ask for."
She quietly replied, "Sleep, Izuku, you deserve it."
Izuku woke to Mirko shaking him violently. "You have to see this!" she half squealed, hauling him up as if he weighed nothing more than a child. Izuku blinked at her, slowly feeling his mind wake up and he followed her gaze to the TV. She reached for the remote and turned up the volume.
It was the morning news and suddenly Izuku remembered the mission yesterday and sat up completely.
"Yesterday evening, Hamamatsu police raided a yakuza that goes by the name Erased whose members were made up of entirely quirkless individuals and specialized in illegal weapons sales. Police report that they arrested twenty-five members and ceased over 110,000,000 Yen of illegal weapons from the warehouse."
Izuku felt his jaw drop from the number. "That's a lot," he gasped.
Beside him, Mirko shrugged. "That's pretty small actually."
"Serious—"
"Shut up, they're talking about you." She grabbed his face and turned it towards the TV.
"Mirko, the #3 Pro-Hero and her new intern, provisional hero Deku, assisted police on the raid."
Across the room, his phone began to buzz, and he hastily got up to get it. Messages from Mina started pouring in and then more from the group chat. He swallowed, mouth feeling unbelievably dry as a picture of him was thrown up on the screen. It was a candid photo from a few weeks ago of him signing a little girl's notebook. Mirko could be seen in the background, head thrown back in a laugh. His heart soared as he remembered that little girl and how shocked he'd been that someone wanted his autograph.
And someone had captured the moment that he knelt down and reached for her pen, a shy, hesitant smile on his face.
"Deku successfully infiltrated the yakuza's ranks and made the raid possible," the news reporter said. "Chief Yamazaki had this to say during this morning's press conference."
Izuku set his buzzing phone aside and sat back on the bed as the Chief came on screen. "We offer our greatest thanks to Mirko and Deku in this operation. Without Deku, I do not believe this operation would have been successful. It is thanks to his quick action that the kidnapped civilian being held by the yakuza is alive and safely recovering."
The feed cut back to the station. "The civilian mentioned was revealed to be 29 years old Akio Tomu. One bystander on the scene captured this image of Deku carrying the man out moments before the raid began."
There was static in Izuku's ears as he looked at the picture. Of him gripping Tomu's arms so tightly his knuckles were white, the strain in the way his brows were drawn together, but the ghost of a smile on his face said it wasn't that bad.
An uncomfortable heat crept up his neck because, in that moment, it had been bad. He wasn't sure he could go another step or keep smiling. But he did. The picture showed that. Mirko could probably see the truth in that photo, but would anyone else know that his eyes were narrowed in blinding pain and not determination? He doubted it. Even he was being fooled. He'd looked like that. Like—
Mirko playfully punched his arm drawing his attention. She nodded her head to the TV. "Like a hero," she said, and she looked back at the screen, a small smile playing on her lips as the reporter continued to talk about the raid and the members captured. There was a moment that cut to another picture of the raid when the yakuza members had been brought out, and they zoomed into the background when Mirko had placed her hand on his face and told him she was proud.
"A touching moment shared between a Pro-Hero and her student after a day well done," the reporter said, a true smile on her face. "Next up is weather."
Mirko slung her arm around Izuku's shoulders and pulled him into a tight side hug. "Helluva way to debut, kid." Izuku blushed a little, but it didn't quite feel real that the story had broke on national news and people across Japan now knew who he was. Mirko smiled wider as she sat back. "Now, go answer your phone before your friends blow it up."