When he wakes up two and a half hours later his eyes burn . It's surprisingly early, just before his alarm is set to go off. The is sun barely up and Inko's still asleep when he stumbles his way out of his room and towards the bathroom. He's fighting exhaustion and when he looks in the mirror he realizes his eyes are bloodshot and his irises are still red.
I forgot to take them out.
It feels like he's trying to peel the contacts from his eyes when he tries taking them out. But there's an almost instant relief that has him slumping over the counter once they're gone.
He's too tired to notice the footsteps just outside the bathroom until Inko knocks quietly on the door, woken up by her son's mad rush through the apartment. She doesn't wait for a response before slowly cracking the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Is everything okay sweetie?"
He's managed to get both contacts out by the time she opens the door. But, the boy is still wearing last night's sweatpants and knee pads.
He freezes, unable to reply for a moment, frozen in fear that she'll somehow realize what he's done.
"Izuku?"
"G-Good morning! I just had something in my eye! No problem!" It's enough to draw her gaze away from where they'd been drifting towards his knees. She looks him in the eyes, studying them.
"Oh dear, they're so bloodshot!" She takes a step closer, a furrow forming between her brows. "Make sure you flush whatever it is out." She quickly turns towards their medicine drawer, rummaging through it. "We should have some eye drops-"
"It's fine mom! I already got it out!"
She turns back towards him, hands coming up to cradle his cheeks as she studies his eyes again. "Did you get something in both of them sweetheart?"
He sputters out an incoherent response, hands whirling about his head, trying to wave the woman's worry off. "I-It's fine! All taken care of mom!"
She huffs out a breath, "If you're sure then."
When she finally leaves to start breakfast Izuku is quick to tear off the kneepads, tugging them down his legs. He throws them onto the corner, wide eyed and panting as he stares at them. That was close. The boy sighs, picking them back up and hiding them in the waistband of his pants. He peeks out the door, watching to see if Inko would come back to check on him. When he hears her rummaging through the kitchen he deems it safe enough and makes another mad dash, this time for his room.
Last night feels like a fever dream, Mika and the woman with fiery hair like a mere figment of his imagination. For now he's forced to discard them and get ready for school. As much as he hates to
think about going back he can't miss anymore class if he wants to keep up with his studies. So, he tugs on his uniform and hides his vigilante things where they belong. The sweatshirt goes back on its hanger, the pants go back in his drawer. The elbow and knee pads are put in a bin under his bed and he leaves the pipe there with them. He's still exhausted after only a little more than two hours of sleep, and decides he'll need to come up with a better schedule if he wants to maintain his current lifestyle.
So, when he gets home he does his homework, eats dinner, tucks into bed at eight, and wakes up again at eleven after Inko has gone to bed. He stays out for three hours, kicks a little butt, saves a person or two, keeps a cat from becoming roadkill, and returns at two to sleep for another four or so hours before waking up to do it all over again. But, he still wakes up tired, so the dark circles strung beneath his eyes become a new accessory.
He falls into this loop like a dog chasing its own tail. He slips into a recurring pattern of perpetually no sleep and trying not to nod off during class. He's stuck to small time criminals thus far, drug dealers, muggers, a few thieves. One of which that had been stupid enough to mistake him for his partner.
And for the most part he handles them easily, though he still managed to get injured from time to time. It's mostly bruising so the wounds are easy enough to pass off as one's from the dojo. And, on the occasion that he comes home with a small cut or two in obvious places all he had to do is slap a large enough bandaid on it and claim he'd tripped.
But, there's an unforeseen problem with only fighting criminals that he can handle.
On the occasion that he comes across someone that he can't beat and there's nothing he can do, he finds that a piece of his soul breaks . The times that he's forced to sit on the sidelines, watching, waiting for the real heroes to arrive. And, everytime he has to dial the police or somehow lead a hero to the scene, a little part of his sun burns out, fizzling like a sparkler at the end of its fuse. But, there are moments worse than even these. They're the moments where he jumps into the fray knowing he can't win and is forced to retreat. They're moments where his sun is doused in water and his heart turns to ash.
So, over the next month, as he becomes more confident in his abilities, he stops making as many anonymous calls to the police station. He stops waiting in the shadows for actual heroes to arrive. He stops agonizing over not being able to do more and just starts doing. He'd worked himself up to the higher level criminals through experience. But, he hadn't yet figured out where this new level stopped.
He still didn't know his limits.
The villain he's chasing gets the upper hand in the alley they're in. Their abilities more suited for this type of close quarters combat. The alley is a narrow one, narrow enough that newfound vigilante can't use the pipe without scraping the walls. So, he'd dropped it, and that's where everything had gotten worse.
Before Midoriya had learned to use a staff, he'd been trained to fight and defend himself with his body which is why he hadn't thought much on his choice of letting it go. But, he'd failed to account for the man's quirk. Thus far he'd rarely encountered criminals with quirks that were useful in combat situations. So, he hadn't expected the man's hand to turn knifelike in the few seconds before he struck. The vigilante had been expecting a normal hand, so he'd made the decision to merely redirect the attack from where it'd been aiming for his center mass to a simple glancing blow off his ribs. It shouldn't have hurt, but Midoriya had failed to realize that the man's hand hadn't been in a fist. Instead he had held his hand out flat, fingers pulled together in a way
that fashioned the yakuza's hand into a spear-like tip.
The skin around his ribs isn't thick, so when the man's steely hand slices through his side he can feel the fingers scrap against bone.
He jerks back, not expecting the pain, his own hand reaching up to cover it. He freezes up. It's a deep cut, one that would undoubtedly require stitches even without looking at the wound. He's scared to glance at it, scared to move, scared to think about what he'll tell his mom.
The villain doesn't give him much time to be scared.
Maybe he doesn't want to kill the kid, maybe it's because he's got somewhere he has to be, but for whatever reason the encounter moves towards the rooftops. The villain flees up a row of balconies, only big enough to hang out laundry, like one would a ladder. He's less skilled at the climb than the vigilante, but he shows no hesitation and Midoriya's losing a decent amount of blood from his wound.
But, the boy had made too many climbs like this before to be so easily left behind. Fire laces through his side at the ascent, movement aggravating the wound and more blood pooling down his side and soaking his hoodie. The man reaches the top before him and jumps the narrow gap between buildings with ease.
The vigilante's breathing is heavy and he's trying to focus on where to put his hands and feet rather than the flaring pain in his ribs. It's a hard feat to accomplish, but eventually he makes it to the top, the barest edges of his vision stained black. He can see the man dodge an air unit on the next roof over as Midoriya gets a running start and sails over the five foot gap with ease. He stumbles on the rooftops' gravel during his landing, using his hands to catch himself from eating it. Izuku pushes himself back up, spying the yakuza member already leaping across to the next roof through his steadily darkening vision. His side is sticky with fresh blood, his wound still weeping thick, red tears. But, he continues on, following the man's trail.
The next roof over belongs to another apartment building, the gap isn't much larger than the last so he doesn't hesitate in his run up. But, the black at the edges of his vision is creeping further and further into his field of view and he can't feel his wound anymore, can't feel much of anything anymore. So when he takes his final step he can't actually feel that he's misplaced it.
He misses the jump, brutally. Slamming into the side of the next building with a force to rattle teeth and crack ribs. He claws desperately at the roof's ledge, trying to find a grip, but gravity eventually wins out and manages to pull him back. He slips down the side of the building, the brick dragging at his skin and at his clothes.
This life ended way too quickly.
In the moments in which Izuku is free falling Bakugou's voice comes back to him. Perhaps it's because of the situation, perhaps it's because his words had cut the boy so deeply. Either way Bakugou Katsuki's barking laughter rings in the vigilante's ears.
"If you want to be a hero that badly, there's a quick way to do it."
He reaches out an hand towards the roof's ledge, but it's too far now.
"Believe that you'll be born with a quirk in the next life and take a swan dive off the roof!"
Midoriya had never believed in reincarnation. But, he thinks that even if he was reborn, that fate would still somehow manage to curse him with the destiny of a quirkless child.
He thinks he's dying. But, landing comes too quickly. His feet hit with a resounding bang on a rusted fire escape some ten feet from the top of the roof. His knees give out beneath him, head colliding with one of the stairs as his body folds into itself. He's only able to register the burst of pain and the 'not death' signal his brain is screaming before he passes out on the landing.
r/vigilantes · Posted by u/oofidyploof four days ago Vigilante in Musutafu!!!
34 upvotes
B E T MUSUTAFU HAS A NEW VIGILANTE
I overheard a group of thugs that's been terrorizing my neighborhood talking about how there's a new vigilante around and shdgshdghdsj you don't understand how happy I am. Someone finally got fed up enough to take matters into their own hand and I'm soooooo ready to see them kick ass.
Things have gotten quieter around here lately and thanks to them I can finally take my sister to the park without seeing drug dealers lurking around.
The people I overheard called them Piper? So thank you Piper! AND ON BEHALF OF MY SISTER THANKS! IF I SEE YOU I PROMISE NOT TO CALL THE POLICE SO KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK 3
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allimight - 38 points, two days ago
I'd heard rumors about a vigilante hovering around Musutafu but I didn't think it'd be a newbie, they've been taking down a lot of criminals for someone so new to the scene
When Midoriya wakes up it's to daylight overhead, or at least, what he thinks is daylight. In all actuality it's to the warm lighting of a teenager's bedroom, but it's not his bedroom. He aches all over, his chest, side, head, hands, knees. His scrapes burn but they're nothing compared to the the flaring pain radiating from his side.
He's on a bed, shirtless, and his head is wrapped in gauze. The boy rolls his head to the side. The room he's in looks part bedroom, part workshop, metal desks piled high with odds and end parts lining one wall. And, the unmade bed he's laying in sitting opposite of it all. There's a black haired boy at his side, leaning into the wound on his ribs. But, Izuku doesn't really register him, more confused than startled by the situation he's found himself in.
"Ah, the data suggested that you wouldn't be awake for awhile. I guess I need to do more reading."
There's a painful stabbing sensation followed by a tugging pull at the wound on his side. He jerks up and away at the sudden pain, drawing a noise of disapproval from the seventeen year old.
"Stay still. I was hoping you'd be out for a while longer," the older boy says, positioning himself back near the wound, "Grit your teeth." He receives only a last second warning before the teenager plunges a hooked needle back into the vigilante's bloodied skin.
The boy curses, clenching the bed sheets in his hands.
"Your head was bleeding so I assumed you managed to knock yourself out. Did you fall off the roof?" The boy glances up, gaze turning serious. "You weren't trying to kill yourself were you?"
Midoriya opens his mouth to disagree with the statement, but all that comes out is a pained grunt when the needle re-enters his tender side.
The teenager leans to the left, reaching for two pills he'd set aside on his nightstand. He offers them to the vigilante, "Here, these should help take the edge off."
Midoriya hesitates for only a moment before he takes the pills from him and pops them in his mouth, chasing them down with a glass of water that the stranger hands him. The boy pauses, glass at his lips and water already half gone.
"What the hell am I doing?" The words slip from his lips unbidden.
"I would assume it's because of the concussion you have. But, that's under the assumption that this is odd behavior for you and that you're not usually so trusting." They meet eyes, those of the stranger a deep, near luminescent amber.
"Anyway," the boy starts, switching topics, "Your life wasn't in danger. I know how to do everything so I figured I'd save you the cost of a hospital visit. I'm not completely sure how much blood you lost, only a rough estimate based on what's on your clothes, either way you'll probably be anemic for awhile. I'd suggest eating food with high iron." The teenager finishes tying off the last suture, clipping the remaining thread off. "Red meat if you can."
"You... didn't call the police?"
"No."
"Or the hospital?"
"No, I just said I knew how to do everything."
Midoriya's unsure how to react, left to blink dumbly at the amber eyed teen and his obnoxiously yellow button up. "A stranger lands on your fire escape, bleeding and unconscious, and you just... Drag them into your room?"
"Pretty much."
Izuku looks at the boy, incredulous. "Why?"
"Does there need to be a reason? You were hurt."
"Normally," Izuku states, trying hard to focus. "If you find someone injured the usual response is to call 119."
"Did you want me to call 119?" The a teen leans back in his seat, staring down the vigilante. The
younger boy opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. "Exactly. Dressed the way you were and with the wounds you're sporting, I made the assumption that you'd prefer for me to handle it this way. Plus, like I said earlier, I know how to do everything. My mom's a nurse, so I've read a lot of the old medical books she has laying around."
Midoriya feels absolutely drained. "And you just... what? Memorized them?"
"It's my quirk. I call it Wikipedia, but for legal reasons it's registered as 'Database'," the boy says offhandedly as he pushes away from the bed, sliding across the room in his swivel chair. "It lets me read about anything and memorize it, but once it's up here," he explains, tapping his head, "It's like any other database and I have to have a key term to access any of it. 'How to stitch a wound' won't get me anything, but 'sutures' would pull up any and all information I could possibly need. From there it's up to me to sort through any of the info it brings up." He plucks a first aid kit off of one of the less cluttered tables and rolls back towards the bed. "Unfortunately because there is so much information up there I do tend to forget day to day stuff more easily." He sets the kit down at his feet, turning towards the boy. "What did you say your name was again?"
Midoriya blinks, surprised. "Ah, I didn't. It's Mi-"
The boy quickly cuts him off, a large grin blossoming across the older boy's face. "I'm kidding. I'm surprised that you'd actually try and give me your name so easily though. I get you have a concussion, but," he huffs a laugh, "You're lucky I was the one to find you."
Midoriya open his mouth silently, realization dawning. What the hell am I doing?
"It's best to stay away from my mom though. Her quirk is activated through skin contact, any questions she asks you'll be forced to answer truthfully. She usually wears gloves but," he shrugs before going back to digging through the first aid kit, pulling out antiseptic spray and gauze. "Lift your arm, not too much though, you don't need to pull on those stitches. I may know how to do all this stuff, but nothing beats experience so I don't know how well they'll hold. Speaking of which, I'd suggest laying off the criminal activity until it fully heals." The teen sprays the wound with antiseptic before gently pressing a gauze pad over the gash. "Hold this."
"Technically I wasn't committing any crimes," Midoriya mumbles in response, cradling the stitched wound as the teen reaches back into the first aid kit.
He pulls out more gauze and begins winding a roll around the vigilante's torso. "Is that your excuse for vigilantism? They can still get you on assault, both with or without a deadly weapon, trespassing, disturbance of the peace, and, depending on the situation, destruction of property."
Midoriya stares at him for a moment, startled.
"I recognized your getup, but it took me awhile to sort through everything," he says, tapping his head. "I started with 'vigilantes' because I figured there'd be less info to search through. And, sure enough I read a post two days ago about a new vigilante in the area. I remember being interested and found yet another post talking about what you looked like, minus the pipe of course. I'll be honest, you're younger than I imagined. You're Piper, right?"
Midoriya blinks, dumbstruck at the name. "Piper?"
The teen offers him an amused glance as he wraps another layer of gauze over his wound, it's tight, the feeling foreign and unwelcome after his years of Muay Thai. But, it's not painful, so the boy resigns himself to his fate. "You carry around a pipe, right? I'd assume it has something to do with that."
Izuku turns the name over in his head. "They couldn't have picked something cooler?"
That draws a laugh from the amber eyed boy as he cuts away the extra gauze and secures the wrappings in place. "What did you expect? Most criminals aren't the most original people and from what I hear they're the ones who came up with it." The boy tosses the remaining supplies back into the first aid kit before rolling into the center of the room to give the vigilante some space. "Who knows, maybe this is their way of getting revenge."
Midoriya snorts, shifting to let his legs hang off the side of the bed. "I wouldn't put it past them." "It's not the worst name though, they could have called you Pipe Boy."
The vigilante huffs, "I spent all that time thinking about names, but I was never given a chance to use them. You can't just jump into the middle of a brawl shouting, "It is I! Counterbalance!" Or, "I am here to Judge your crimes!"" He leans back, using a hand to prop himself up. "I was hoping for something justice related you know. But, Piper? Piper? I mean come on ."
"It suits your m.o. Thus far there's been no evidence of quirk usage, and your outfit isn't really eye catching, so really it makes sense that the pipe is what draws inspiration."
Izuku's eye catches on the neon numbers of the alarm clock on the boy's nightstand, 3:46. Midoriya curses, stumbling to his feet, red eyes scouring the room his hoodie.
The teen sighs, rolling in his chair towards one of his workshop tables and grabbing the vigilante's top and gently tossing it to him.
The fifteen year old thanks him with his eyes as he carefully tugs his hoodie back on. The blood stain has dried by now and sits stiff against his inflamed skin. He shoves his curls back beneath the hoodie as he makes his way towards the window.
"Tsukauchi Reo," the teen calls from behind the vigilante.
Midoriya turns back, surprised. "What?"
"My name," the teen responds, smirking.
"Didn't you just get on to me for trying to give you my name?"
The corner of Reo's lips quirk further upwards. "Did I? I told you I forget things easily."
Midoriya sighs, a smile of his own twitching at his lips. "Thanks again for saving me."
"Again? This is the first time you're thanking me." The smirk stretches into a smile as he watches the vigilante's red eyes light up in amusement.
Izuku tugs the window open. "You're right. I ended up getting on to you for not calling 119 instead." Midoriya pulls himself out the window, back onto the fire escape that had caught him. His dried blood blending in with the stair's flaking paint. "You know," the boy says, thinking back to Reo's words earlier in the night, "You're lucky I was the one you found."
Tsukauchi grins. "You're right. And, hey!" He calls before the boy can slip away, "Those stitches need to come out in two weeks, if you don't have anyone to do it for you feel free to come back. If you try to do it yourself I will find out about it and track you down myself."
Midoriya nods, smile blooming behind his mask. And, from there the vigilante disappears down
the fire escape, dropping into the alley blow and traveling back to where he'd left his pipe, praying it'd still be there. He does find it, kicked to the side in his scuffle with the villain. The boy sighs, touching a hand to his injured side. Here he was, living his childhood fantasy. Perhaps, it was not in the way he had imagined, but he thinks the means he took to be here are justified by its outcome. He's saving lives, and honestly that's all that he can think of that matters. Above him the sky begins lightening, foretelling the coming of dawn.