Reo's finally managed to halfway fall asleep again when his mother raps gently at his door, pushing it open and allowing herself in. He rolls over to look at her, eyes straining in the dark to try and make out her face.
"Mom?" He asks quietly, voice raspy and tired.
"Your uncle's in the hospital," she tells him calmly, lowly.
Reo pushes himself up out of bed, sobering immediately. "He's..."
"He's fine," his mother finishes for him, cutting him off. "He hit his head trying to catch that vigilante. It's just a mild concussion, but doctors are doing an MRI just to be safe."
"Are we going now?"
The woman shakes her head, walking closer so she can ruffle his hair. "Don't even think about it. You've got school in the morning. The fall knocked him out, I'm just going so I can start on some of the paperwork for him. He'll probably be staying here for a while once the doctor discharge him so I can keep an eye on him. You'll be able to see him then kiddo."
Reo's eyes close as her hand falls away from his hair.
"No need to worry," she tells him. She says something else before leaving that he misses past the thoughts crowding his head. Tsukauchi slowly turns to face the window.
"Thanks for always helping me."
The words turn sour in his head, a bitter taste invading his senses. "What did you do," the teen whispers.
Midoriya shoves all of his gear beneath his bed and tries his best to forget about everything. It feels like the kindest thing he can do for himself even though he's inclined to believe the voice in his head when it says he deserves none.
So, instead of forgetting he takes refuge under his sheets and cries because he still hasn't cleaned the blood from his boots. He presses a hand against his mouth, biting into the soft tissue in an effort
to both ground himself and mute his sobs.
His head pounds along with the pulse of his heart. His chest heaves and he chokes on excess mucus and snot.
Similarly to his friend, there are also times when Midoriya Izuku remembers too much. Life for Midoriya Izuku is hard.
It's been hard since he turned four, harder since Bakugou turned on him, harder since he got rejected, harder and harder and harder and harder and sometimes it feels like his life is just continuously getting worse. It got better, for a time, after he met Reo. Better in the sense that he had someone who could help him forget the bad and the bader and the worse. But he's ruined that and now he has to face the bad and the bader and the worse by himself, again, alone. And he can't remember how he dealt with it before.
Piper's been laying low for the past week, a rise in activity from local heroes and police driving him further underground. He'd drawn too much attention, hurt too many of the wrong people. He'd never been a figure that was meant to draw eyes.
So, he keeps to shorter patrols and stays in parts of the city that he knows how to hide in. He goes home earlier, sleeps longer, stays away from Reo's apartment.
He continues to wake up with dark circles, prodding at them in the mirror, questioning why they of all things stick around when nothing else does. They tell him to stop having nightmares and maybe they'll leave.
Sometimes he doesn't know if he wants them to leave. (He deserves this.)
He knew he would have nightmares, expected them. Half of the time they usually aren't as bad as ones he's had in the past. The other half of the time they're worse.
He expects an endless series of dreams haunted by Reo and Detective Tsukauchi's faces, so if Midoriya had anticipated seeing anything in his latest nightmare it certainly isn't what he's plunged into. He expects hospital wings, and crime scenes, and graveside funerals. He expects his guilt to eat at him just like it does during the day. Perhaps that's what makes this dream so much worse, because he wasn't expecting it.
In the nightmare he's confronted with All Might and his blinding smile. He thinks they're behind his school, or maybe beneath an underpass, or an alley, or somewhere else he can't quite name, the top of some building maybe?
"Do you think I can be a hero?" The boy asks. The hero's smile does not falter. "No."
Black holes yawn open in his chest and Midoriya can feel the world crumbling beneath his feet, breaking apart, disintegrating as the dying stars warble songs of destruction.
There's a howling screech of metal and Izuku turns slowly to see a dumpster falling towards him, pulled in by the whining cry of gravity.
Midoriya turns away from it, body acting as if it isn't there.
"Villains can not become heroes," All Might laughs. And even the laugh gets dragged in by
gravity, torn apart by the fall of Midoriya Izuku.
The boy flinches awake before the dumpster can crush him, greeted by a shadowy poster of Japan's number one. He feels his stomach sink, feels his sun shutter.
"Playing at vigilantism will not make you a hero. You'll only be labeled a villain by those whose opinions count the most with no evidence to dispute their claims."
He tries to fight the voice. I'm saving people, he reminds himself, desperately clinging to the thought. I'm saving people.
Naomasa paces the length of his sister's couch. Thoughts endlessly turning over. He curses himself, he shouldn't have let his guard down. He should've known, he should've known. Even domesticated animals lash out when cornered.
The detective runs a hand through his hair, wincing when he passes over the back of his head. Concussion wise it should only be another day or two before he's able to squirm out from under Misaki's thumb and get back to work. But, the external bruising would last longer.
"Pacing won't get you better any quicker."
Naomasa looks up at the voice to see Reo coming out of his room. He looks tired.
"You look worse than me," the man tells him.
"Don't change the subject, it doesn't work on mom and it won't work on me either."
He huffs a laugh, sighing before finally sitting back down as the boy heads for the kitchen.
"You could use the rest, Ojisan. Another day or two won't hurt you," Reo mutters, rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat.
"You say that," Naomasa says, leaning his head back to study the ceiling, "but you're not the one chained to this couch."
The teen lets out a soft laugh. "Sounds like a you problem Iz—" He cuts himself off, brows furrowing. He grabs a small container of cold leftovers before heading back towards his room. "You'll be okay. No need to worry too much."
Naomasa watches him go silently, the words spoken as if they're meant for someone else.
The detective shifts, checking the time. "It's so late already," he mutters. He turns back to stare at his nephew's closed door. "And he didn't even heat up that food."
For Midoriya Izuku school is hell, but it's always been hell. And, if he's being honest, with everything else seemingly crumbling around him the regularity of it all makes him feel a bit more sane, a bit more normal. And at the moment he's desperate for any sense of normalcy he can get.
His desire for normalcy so frenzied that he even ponders forgetting, ponders erasing his memories of Reo. If only for the sake of his sanity.
But, he doesn't want to forget.
Midoriya quickly slides his gym uniform on, careful not to draw the eyes of his classmates.
In the last ten months Midoriya has had to be careful in the locker room. His peers have never blinked at the bruises and burns he walks in with. Bakugou's temper left few to second guess them.
But burns aren't the only scars he sports. His worst wound, the one he'd gotten meeting Reo, still lingers as a nasty scar. Even after being professionally stitched the second time it looks almost as bad as the original. He can't say he had taken any better care of it than the first though, so he understands the similarities.
There aren't many noticeable scars, but there are enough to draw eyes if he isn't careful.
Gym class is by far Midoriya's least favorite class, not simply because he has to change in front of a good half of his class. But, because their teacher favors the strong, favors Bakugou, favors pretending that he's just that blind.
All the teachers pretend to be clueless when it comes to Bakugou's habitual bullying, but P.E. is where he's able to get away with so much more in the name of 'boys being boys'.
A quirk propelled dodgeball is sent flying past him that Midoriya barely manages to dodge with a grimace. Laughter rises from both sides of the court, making his ears burn.
On the other team someone bats another ball at him with the subtle use of their quirk. Unfortunately for them it doesn't have anywhere near the same momentum as the ones that Bakugou's been sending. So instead of dodging, Midoriya catches it.
The impact stings his hands, but he keeps hold of it. He thinks it's pure spite that has him sending the ball right back at the boy with all the force he can manage. And, unlike Izuku, the boy hasn't had as many years worth of martial arts training to be able to dodge something so quick. So, instead of dodging the ball it slams into his cheek with a loud smack and he hits the floor in time with the ball.
Everyone freezes.
Unlike years past, Midoriya knows how to take better care of himself. He knows how to dodge, and how to hit. There's a sharp blow of a whistle from the teacher as he calls Izuku's name. Chee Sensei might not approve of his behavior, but she certainly wouldn't oppose it if she knew his history.
"Midoriya! You'll be cleaning the gym after school for that!"
In the eyes of his teachers Midoriya Izuku has been labeled as many things, but weak is the most common term among them.
And the weak are not allowed to hurt the strong.
The teen's eyes narrow in the slightest, but he only nods and bows slightly in acknowledgment of the punishment before the game resumes and the other kid is sent to the nurse. Bakugou's hands crackle menacingly, hurling another quirk propelled ball at the green-haired boy with a malicious grin. Midoriya makes to quickly step out of the way but is blocked by another classmate that slams into him from the side with a laugh. It sends him right back into the ball's path.
The ball strikes center mass with a sickening thud, expelling the air from his lungs and slamming him, back first, into the floor. Izuku can only lay there for a moment, stunned and struggling to regain his breath. It takes a minute before he's able to even roll over. From the ache he's sure there'll be a brutal bruise left behind.
Midoriya Izuku has faced scarier villains, so he doesn't know why. Why it's always Bakugou's grinning, vermillion eyes that terrify him more than death's golden ones had. Fear and anger twist together in his chest.
The teen forces himself to stand, stumbling towards the out bench. His classmates snicker, Bakugou grins, the teacher looks away, pretending to see nothing.
Is this really the normalcy he's been chasing after for the last week? Is he willing to return here?
Midoriya considers running to the dojo after he finishes cleaning the gym, but ultimately decides against it. He can't bring himself to scrounge up the motivation. He's about an hour late because of this, creeping into the dojo almost completely unnoticed. He doesn't think Ji-woo noticed, too wrapped up in teaching a new group of kids, but he can never be sure with her eyes.
He's used to drifting in and out of places unnoticed. It was one of the perks of being quirkless, though whether it's a perk or not depends on who you ask. He toes off his sneakers and glides across the dojo like a sort of phantom, changing in the small bathroom. He studies the giant bruise forming on his chest and prods at the dark circles beneath his eyes again. His face looks gaunt, sickly beneath the bathroom's yellow lighting.
"Will you continue like this?" A new voice asks him, "Normalcy will lead to your destruction. Seek destruction and you'll find it."
Midoriya glances down at his phone watching for a notification he won't receive.
Will he forgive me?
"Seek amends, not forgiveness."
The boy's head dips, eyes fluttering closed. Right... right. I don't deserve his forgiveness.
It's easy to say that the only safe bit of normalcy Midoriya has access to now is the dojo. There are times where he feels like he's learned everything there is to learn here, but the thought of abandoning this place has never once come to mind.
Hirano dodges past a kick of his, and he watches as her muscles tense for a counterattack. Her movements have been getting harder to read in the last few weeks, she's learning.
But, Midoriya can still read her eyes. He redirects her punch and feints left. She falls for the feint, eyes following his to the left.
It's easy to get her to the mat from there. But, even with his experience it shouldn't have gone as smoothly as it does.
"You seem a little out of it," Midoriya tells her, nursing his water as they cool down.
Hirano huffs out a quiet laugh, wiping the sweat from her skin with a small towel. "Guess that makes two of us then. I mean I've certainly seen you look worse, but you definitely don't look like
you're all there either."
"I was still able to take you down though." She bumps him with a shoulder. "Touché."
The boy has his own problems, big, bad problems that would topple just about any other person in his shoes. Because of that he's had to find different ways to cope over the years, meeting Reo had offered him a healthy venting channel. But, before him Midoriya had manufactured an elaborate form of systematic distraction and denial. And without Reo, he falls back on it once again.
From experience, focusing on other people's problems has always done a great job of helping him forget his own. So, when there's a moment of silence that follows their short conversation, Midoriya uses it to stew on what could be troubling the girl. It doesn't take him long to come to a conclusion, the name Tanaka catches fire in his head, blazing across the front of his cerebrum like a meteor. "Is it Tanaka that's bothering you?"
Hirano pauses, expression falling. She lets her hands drift back into her lap, fingers tangled in fabric of her towel. "Yeah. I haven't heard from him personally, but there's always rumors you know... I heard he's been making friends with people he shouldn't, running around doing things he shouldn't. I've seen some of the posts from his social media... and at the very least the rumors look true."
Izuku doesn't say anything, letting her continue.
"He's not a bad guy, Midoriya... He's just someone who got caught up in the wrong crowd like I did. But, he got stuck with them a lot earlier than me. He doesn't know any better."
Midoriya doubts that last part, but feels more sympathetic for the teen nonetheless.
The girl's voice drops lower, "An old friend of ours said that he was starting to fall in with some yakuza group."
Midoriya wants to tell the girl that there's no need to worry, that the yakuza are things of the past, that they don't cause trouble anymore. But the words die on lips.
"Where is she!"
"He'll be okay, Hirano," Midoriya tells her just as quietly. "If anything, he knows how to hold himself in a fight."
"Where is she!"
His heart shutters.
I'll check on him just in case. He tells himself that what he's planning is for Hirano's sake. He tells himself he's not a liar. After all, denial is one of Midoriya's strong suits.
So, he forgets for a little longer, pretends he hasn't done anything which needs worrying over and instead begins working on how to track down Tanaka.
He finds himself at the top of UA again during another one of his nightmares. He can't hear them in the dream, but some part of him understands that there's sirens whining in the distance. He's running from something, someone.
Upon waking Midoriya will remember the last time he was on the top of this building, will remember what it was that happened here. But, his dream-self doesn't, doesn't recognize the parallels, doesn't fight to wake up before anything worse can take hold of him.
There's a presence that he senses approaching from behind and turns to see the figure of someone that he recognizes as Reo, even if he doesn't look like himself.
"Izuku," he says in a voice that isn't his. "Why don't you do the world a favor? And ta–"
It's a short dream, his alarm clock snapping him awake. He throws himself up, limbs tangled in his sheets. But, Midoriya's thankful. He doesn't know if he'd survive hearing those words from Reo. He's thankful, but he still cries.
Izuku is constantly awakened by new nightmares like these. Some of them have people chasing after him, villains, heroes, police. Sometimes Reo joins and sometimes Bakugou joins and sometimes there are explosions and sometimes there are quiet whispers of betrayal. In some dreams Detective Tsukauchi is seriously injured, in some he's dead or dying or being killed. In some Midoriya is taking Naomasa's place, in others he's getting tackled by Death Arms or flattened by a dumpster or a road sign or being killed by the gentle brush of fingertips against his over and over again.
His search for Tanaka begins with the Naka Konita internet café. It feels like the easiest place to start. Hirano had told him exactly where to look just the week before after all.
He'd thought it would be easy enough to wait nearby and see if the teen comes in or out of the building at some point. But, the vigilante spends three hours cramped into some nearby alley waiting for nothing to happen. A wasted patrol.
The next night he clambers down their balcony as Midoriya Izuku. He's wearing a large enough hoodie that easily hides his bulletproof vest and utility belt, but stows any other gear he thinks he might need in case of emergency in his backpack. He keeps his hair tucked beneath his hood and dons a white medical mask to hide the lower half of his face.
The straps chafe at the back of his ears. It's been a while since he's had to wear one of these.
He hovers outside of the café for an hour before giving in and slipping inside. The worker inside eyes him suspiciously, he's still built like a fifteen-year-old after all, but they don't say anything after he readily slips the money for two hours across the counter. It's one of the cheaper cafés he's seen, everything arranged openly, long desks of computers set up one right next to another. It makes it easier for him to look for Tanaka. There's quite a few people scattered around the place, some are awake, others sleeping at odd angles. Tanaka Hato is not among them. So, Midoriya waits out the next two hours quietly surfing the internet.
That's how he finds it.
Cay @ MLM Scheming @clownangle · 3d
Just stumbled across that video of that vigilante getting away from Death Arms again and honestly it's so painful to watch like so many people got hurt because of that dude (death arms is still recovering) and he still hasn't been caught i hope everyone recovers soon they deserve better
5 2 15
BackyardaGAINS @DeathArmsAlli · 3d
Nothing will hold down heroes! Death Arms and Acro will be back on the streets in no time!!!!
2
Zinnia @Zinniaaa89 · 2d I hope everyone recovers!
1
Any--way @villain_anti · 1d
Get well soon!!! #DeathArms #Arco
PROSTITuwuTION @uwuMaaster · 5h
I heard Acro was back on patrol yesterday and that Death Arms will be back in action soon!
1 3 Cay @ MLM Scheming @clownangle · 2h
That's awesome!!!! I was really worried about them tbh T_T now if only they'll catch that vigilante! Take your revenge my children!!! MWAHAHAHAHA
2
Midoriya's breath shudders, phantom blood paints his sneakers.
"In saving me you'll break me."
What if he really was better off caged?
Midoriya leaves half an hour before his two hours are up, thoughts plagued with blood and sleep plagued with nightmares. In this dream hands wrap around his wrists like cuffs, suppressing a quirk he can feel vibrating in his bones, calling him like a black hole calls gravity.
In the unclear void he hears a cry go out, "Piper!" Somewhere to his right Eri materializes, solidifying just outside his field of view.
He turns slowly to see her.
"Piper!" she calls again, cherry eyes desperate and bandaged hand reaching out towards him
frantically. He tries to fight the hands holding him back. I can't fail her again. But, he can.
All the boy does is blink before she disappears, Detective Tsukauchi standing in her place. Eri's outstretched hand is replaced by the man's outstretched weapon. "Did you tell him to do it?" the detective asks.
The hands around his wrists tighten, cracking bone as Midoriya lets out a muted cry of pain.
"Did you tell him to do it!?"
Somewhere on the unchartable horizon the rising sun is replaced by one of Reo's amber eyes.
He waits for the weekend to head back to the internet café again, leaving early afternoon and staying till Inko calls him home for dinner. He starts to question whether his timing is just that bad, or if Tanaka has started staying somewhere else since Hirano last saw him.
As the weekend stretches on and the leads on Tanaka dry out Midoriya pushes himself harder, unable to waste any more time at the café. He'd have to find another way to track the teen down.
After nearly a week the extra hero and police reinforcements have melted back into their regular slots. This is what lets the vigilante stay out later, lets him ignore his problems for a little while longer. He does what he can, where he can, whenever he can. He accumulates cuts and bruises like bandages, using them to cover emotional wounds.
He saves a few people. Some of them thank him, others gawk in fear before running away. He helps a cat out of a dumpster, but all it does is lash back, back paws clawing at his hoodie, teeth sinking into his gloves. He sets it down gently and watches it sprint out of the alley.
He wonders if that's what Detective Tsukauchi saw when he cornered him in that convenience store. If he looked like nothing more than a feral animal, attacking anyone who drew too close.
His next dream is scarily mundane for how vivid it is. He finds himself standing on their apartment's balcony, hands resting on the lip of the half wall. It's bright outside, colors glowing. On the thin strip of grass below he can see Reo and Eri. He's spinning the little girl around in the air, laughing with each other. They're far away, but Midoriya can see so many specific details. The sunlight is dappled and his friend's amber eyes glow gold beneath the sun. Eri's eyes shine like rubies, whispering soft assurances of total happiness. Reo's feathery, tar-black hair rises with his laughter like a scene straight from a ghibli movie and Eri's wispy white strands follow suit.
The dream sticks around, clinging to him even after waking. It wasn't that long of a dream, more a moving image than anything else. But he can't get it out of his head, he finds that this dream hurts more than many of his nightmares. Because he can't forget.
All of his repressed thoughts are fighting against him, struggling to come up like the bile hovering in the back of his throat. Their laughter turns his stomach.
He'd failed to save Eri. He'd ruined his friendship with Reo. His eyes well up.
Logic tells him that you can't save everyone. The demons in his head tell him he's a failure if he doesn't.
A whisper in his head tells him to, "seek amends, seek amends." So he does.
Can you come over?
Reo ⟩ Text Message
Today 2:14 AM
Today 2:22 AM
M sorey sorry Im sorry
Sory Sorry
on my wy way Sorry I'm so sorry
His eyes are bloodshot by the time he makes it beneath the fire escape up to Reo's apartment.
This could be a trap, Midoriya tells himself. But, he deserves whatever Reo decides to do with him. Whether it's take his gear or turn him in. He has no right to feel betrayed after what he did.
"Seek amends, seek amends."
Really that's all that Midoriya thinks he can do.
He's in his civilian clothes, his only vigilante gear are a few pieces that he's shoved into the backpack on his shoulder. All of them are the pieces made by Reo's hands. He's prepared himself to give them back if that's what his friend asks.
He scales the fire escape deftly as usual, but anxiety slows him down, makes each step feel heavier than it should be.
Seek amends, seek amends.
He pauses outside of Reo's window. The curtains are drawn shut, but Midoriya can see light seeping through the threadbare fabric. In his head he can see the teen sitting at his desk, working on whatever recent idea has caught his attention. In a darker part of his mind there's a team of police and heroes waiting for him behind the bedroom door.
Midoriya softly taps against the window before he can think of it anymore. His heart is in his throat, right alongside the food he'd eaten for dinner.
There's movement from inside as Reo parts the curtains, first taking note of the boy's normal clothes, then the dark circles and the blood shot eyes. The older teen's shoulders relax a fraction before he pulls open the window.
"Hi," Midoriya says quietly, its a breathy and broken word. Reo's response is a soft one, "Welcome back."
Midoriya thinks he could break down then and there but he doesn't. He pulls what pieces of himself that he can back together and slips inside the apartment.
"So," Reo starts, "I made something that will hopefully help with your vigilante stuff. Not too sure what use it'll be, but I needed something to do so I went ahead and made it anyway," Tsukauchi tells him, walking towards his work desk.
Midoriya stares after him, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"It's a grappling hook. Nothing too fancy," the teen continues. "Spin, swing, and aim, it's one of the more manual pieces of tech I've made. But the cordage is retractable and the spikes lay flat when it's not being used. You can clip the base to your belt as well."
The boy's confusion fades into a deep ache in his chest. He's trying to act normal for me.
Midoriya feels his eyes well up again, burning with tears. He tries to hold them back, tries to piece himself back together, tries to be strong. But Reo has always been a person he was allowed to be weak around. Tears make their way down his cheeks as his friend continues talking, fiddling with the grappling hook on his desk and running through how it works and where the cable's stored and what the button does. Izuku snivles and Reo turns back towards him. There's a moment of silence.
"Midoriya," the other begins quietly, his tone sobering quickly. "I knew something had happened when you came by that night. It felt... wrong when you left. And when I found out what it was... I was upset you didn't tell me. But, I understood why you didn't." Reo huffs a sad laugh, "I mean I kind of did the same thing when I didn't tell you who my uncle was. I put you in danger then."
"I'm sorry," Midoriya cries, swiping blindly at his eyes, pushing back his tears. "He's okay, Izuku."
All of the deep dark that the boy had tried to hide for so long comes spilling out now like diseased flood water. All of the thoughts and the nightmares and the demons in his head, all of the pent up heartache swamps his chest, drowning his heart, his sun.
"I didn't want to hurt him," the boy weeps. "I know."
His eyes burn, chest aching so terribly. "I just want to save people," the boy chokes out. Reo knows this. To him it's just another fact of life. "I know... I know."
Musutafu goes without its vigilante that night, but Reo does not go without his friend.