Chapter 13: vampire
Izuru was engaging in what was becoming a favorite activity of his. A staring contest with Bakugo, where the goal wasn't to see who would blink first. It was merely a clash of ideals, a way to see who'd crack and ask the pressing questions first. Really, he was having too much fun with this, so obviously it wouldn't be him.
With a trademark scowl, Bakugo finally leaned back in his seat. "Alright, Izuru. Spill it. What the heck is going on?" The boy asked, his gaze moving between Izuru and who his question was likely aimed at.
Glancing to his side, Izuru and Himiko locked eyes, both tilting their heads and even lifting an eyebrow. When asked if they'd rehearsed this, it would be denied.
This was simply the result of two idiots sharing a brain cell.
With identical grins, they both locked eyes with the boy before them. They even pretended as if the rest of the class wasn't paying attention. After all, why would the thoughts of those extras matter?
"What's the matter, Bakugo? Never seen siblings before?" They both managed to speak at the same time, adding to the unnerving factor of it all.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You got adopted, I get that, but now a random sister pops up too? What's she attending Aldera for anyway?" He practically mumbled that last part. Most would assume he'd spontaneously developed a crush, but anyone with a brain could see the real issue.
Dealing with Izuru alone was a handful. His leaps and bounds in confidence, along with getting others to leave him alone, were a threat to everything this school stood for. Even though Bakugo had his back more times than not, someone who had his side no matter what was even scarier.
Izuru could get away with murder. Himiko would help him hide the body.
"It's nothing, really. Her previous school was full of prejudiced people. Luckily for us, my fellow students are a smart bunch that wouldn't cause unnecessary problems, yeah?"
The silence in the room was deafening. It was almost as if the entire class knew their lives hung in the balance. Whatever song and dance the three of them were performing, it was unlikely anyone in the school could match that beat.
That interaction made it clear; Izuru was dangerous, even without Bakugo hounding anyone that got too close. Himiko was practically untouchable by extension. Izuru may let an insult slide, Bakugo made sure you never gave it a thought, but bothering the new girl in town was clearly a swift way to meet your maker.
***
Izuru grinned a feral little grin, calmly kicking his feet back and forth from his seat on a bench. Himiko sat to his right with her head on his shoulder, sipping on a juice box, while Bakugo leaned against the wall to his left. The three sat in silence, waiting for their rides to appear.
"I don't know what they were so afraid of today. They act like we bite or something." Izuku cackled, almost oblivious to the fact he was steadily slipping into villain territory.
Bakugo scoffed, as Himiko lightly bopped her brother on the head. "The two strongest in the school arguing? It's basic self preservation," the girl mumbled, calmly enjoying the life of a peaceful day at school.
"Damn extras are finally learning their place. They won't get hurt if they don't get involved," Bakugo spoke as his scowl worsened, glancing at Izuru. "Besides. Doesn't help that you're finally showing off a spine. They're probably waiting for you to get your revenge or something."
That earned a chuckle out of the boy, as he closed his eyes. What a trio they made! A boy, his rival, and their number one spectator. "As if I could be so petty. Forgive and forget, right?"
As if. He had hilarious plans for the future.
***
Hitoshi hadn't given much thought to how truly insane his life had become. He was content just coasting by and hoping he got into his school of choice. He hoped his mom would be able to live a little after he was out of the nest more; then he'd be making hero money someday, able to help her out after she spent so much time helping him. It wasn't too late for her to enjoy the life she should've had.
So how is it that everything changed so drastically? The day Izuru walked into their library was the day everything went sideways. Hitoshi found himself reluctantly smiling more as he got to know the other boy, being invited to watch him research this and that. Hanging out, googling random things on their computers. He even engaged his mom in conversation when most only did that when they needed assistance!
Being inspired to actually train and put in the effort to be strong enough to enter a school full of heroes. Being told that his quirk wasn't evil. Even Iwai, a woman who he'd never even met until she caught Izuru at the beach duking it out with Bakugo. The both of them believed in him, and he couldn't even begin to explain how grateful he was.
Izuru and Iwai, both of them gave his mom more reasons to smile. With Iwai working in the library now, it was even easier for Kohaku to get through the day. Hitoshi could rest easy knowing she wasn't just babysitting him anymore. She had a friend by her side, and she had to worry less about her own son. He was doing better in classes, and he actually used the time when nobody was around to keep up his training!
All that buildup is what brought him to his current situation. His chair leaned back against a table, magazine draped over his face, and a lazy grin on his lips. Izuru and Himiko yapped on next to him about something or other, the vibes produced by his two friends giving him more peace than he'd had in years. If Izuku was like a brother to him, it's only natural that he'd accept Himiko as a sister. She suffered because of her quirk, similar to the way he did. If he wasn't so deep into his courses, he'd have likely joined them at school. He'd simply wait until U.A. for the world to get ready for them.
***
Kohaku softly sighed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Watching three of the children closest to her heart get along was magic for the soul. She hadn't seen Hitoshi this happy in ages, and the happiness cocktail of emotions radiating from them only made her even happier. She was happy her job could be a safe haven for this precious few to safely hang out together.
Her inner musing was interrupted by the sensation of claws dragging down her back. With a startled yelp, she rapidly turned around, coming face to face with the new number one stress inducer in her life. A sheepish Iwai stood before her, chuckling softly as her nails retracted to normal levels. Kohaku pouted at the other woman, gently bumping her shoulder with a fist. "What is wrong with you? You almost gave me a heart attack." She swatted at the same exact shoulder again, making sure it was known how upset she was.
To Iwai's credit, she took it in stride, fondly rolling her eyes. "You would've heard me coming if you weren't so focused on the kids," she spoke, walking closer and gently spinning the woman so she faced the counter once more. Draping an arm over her shoulder, she stared off in the direction of the kids. "Really warms the heart, right?"
Speaking of warmth, Kohaku's face was an inferno of embarrassment. Just because they'd gotten close didn't mean she was used to such casual actions. Especially the tonal shift from harassment to admiration! Much like with her son, she needed to put her foot down. "Don't… don't try to change the subject. I was having a perfectly comfortable time until you snuck up on me." She even folded her arms, to truly show off how bothered she was by that cheap scare.
Naturally, that invited Iwai to plaster on a wicked grin. "Oh? You're not comfortable anymore?" A hand reached up, grasping Kohaku's chin and gently turning her to face the other woman. "I can fix that."
Adopted or not, Kohaku feared for the rest of the world if Izuru and Himiko turned out anything like their mother.
***
Izuru walked through the mall, humming a tune to himself. They'd recently been shopping to enhance his own wardrobe, but now they had Himiko to think of. That was a perfect excuse for him to also do some shopping of his own. He'd done some reading, slept on it, and had a pretty insightful dream sequence over what he had to do.
He needed an outfit. He couldn't keep doing vigilante work in random everyday clothes. He needed a symbol. An outfit to make him recognizable by civilians and criminals alike. Obviously, he couldn't have an outfit that was too cool. He still needed to save some inspiration for his hero outfit in the future, along with the fact he couldn't have the two easily connectable.
He'd decided to bring headphones along for the journey, considering how noisy a mall could be. He had a simple goal in mind, and he wasn't about to let any advertisements drag his attention.
There's also the fact he just didn't feel like dealing with people. He was infinitely grateful that his natural ability to speak Japanese didn't subtract from his ability to understand English. He's not sure how he'd cope with not being able to listen to his favorite songs.
Back to the point, he didn't have a creative bone in his body, but fortunately the voices in his head seemed to have a talent for design. Color coordination and putting an outfit together wasn't at the top of his skillset. Really, he had to praise Izuku for being able to come up with something like that all on his own. Izuru probably could've done something similar, but the best part of hypotheticals is they were pointless after the moment had passed.
Shifting through some hoodies on a rack, he tried his best not to consult the drawing he had on his phone. More like a vague series of blobs and colors. He knew what he had to find and how to combine them, it was just a journey of finding all the right pieces to put together. Some things were easy, like knee guards and such. But trying to find a specific color of a hoodie? It was a real pain!
With a heavy sigh, he realized he may have to custom make some of these things. That fact only made him angrier, given he wasn't going to be able to use much of any of this everyday or for his hero outfit. What a horrifying life to live.
***
After a truly exhausting shopping trip, Himiko and Iwai had decided to commandeer the living room to sort through purchases. Really, Izuru almost considered moving back into his warehome to give her more space, but apparently she was making it work. Maybe they'd be able to get a bigger place if Iwai and Kohaku ever put a ring on it.
But those were thoughts for later. Izuru had taken all of his things to his room, spreading them out across the bed. Some new shoes, new pants, new plenty of everything. A few supplies to add some extra color to some of his equipment, and even some things to try his hand at knitting. Stitching? He wasn't qualified enough to be sure of the difference.
With a huff, he reached up a hand to play with a few strands of his hair. Unrelated to his whole vigilante thing, he also considered doing something with his hair. Not a haircut, but maybe some new style. Some color? He was way too young to be unlocking a new crises every other day, but he was also way too old to not have done something about this sooner.
Stashing his supplies under his bed, he took his place atop it. There was so much to do, and so little time. Future Izuru could surely handle it, right? Present Izuru just needed a break.
Chapter 14: in a faraway town, someone died
Izuru spared a glance at Iwai's door. Recently, Iwai had found herself actually sleeping during this time of night. Now that she had a proper day job, she could rest along with everyone else. It seemed Himiko had chosen tonight to crash in her room, and even DJ had joined in. Three of the most important girls in his life lay beyond that door, and they were safe, at least for the moment.
They were hopefully also unaware of where he was going. Iwai had some semblance of an idea of what he got up to, but he's pretty sure Himiko didn't have a clue. He'd like to keep it that way, so they'd be able to deny anything if that detective ever came around. Especially tonight. He knew how pivotal it was, and he couldn't allow anyone else to get hurt.
Even if Bakugo could give him a better vantage, even if Shoto could restrain any criminals, even if Hitoshi could stop a fight before it even began, even if he was a quirkless Deku in over his- No, he was better than that. Izuru had changed fate countless times before. He had altered his own. This was his story, not Izuku's story. Certainly not Woomy's. He could save a life.
Even if The Voices told him it was fine, even if his own thoughts told him he couldn't save everyone, even if he was led to believe it was fine to fail. He couldn't accept it if he failed here. Would he be able to say that he could change the world if he let history play out how it was meant to be?
***
Sitting atop a bar, Izuru took stock of his outfit: a mask to hide his identity, a hoodie covering up his hair, and a scarf for some unknown reason (he could afford a few style points, couldn't he?), more pockets than he knew what to do with, comfy boots, and some protection for his shoulders and knees. He couldn't forget the gloves! Everything was in place for a proper vigilante outfit. Logically, nobody would be able to tell who he was if they saw him in civilian clothes.
He couldn't forget his knife. And, of all things, still packing that gun. He had it loaded with ammo this time! He even had a bit of practice under his belt. He was no marksman, but it would do the job. He couldn't forget his trusty industrial-sized flashlight, of course. All that time taking stock of his inventory killed just enough time for him to hear a commotion down below.
Two in the morning. A great time to be awake. Somehow, he'd stumbled upon one of the few bars in Uptown that he imagined would have a respectable staff. To prove his point, he witnessed two men being tossed out, bickering amongst themselves. Rolling his eyes, he dropped down from the roof, without even giving either of them the chance to start fighting or pull out any weapons.
Slowly rising to his full height (not that impressive for his age, in all honesty), Izuru gazed at the both of them as their commotion stopped before it began. Lifting an eyebrow, he waited for either to make a move. After an uncomfortably long staring contest, they both decided to split and head their separate ways. It was a smart play, all things considered. He certainly wouldn't want to try his chances with some random freak jumping from the rooftops.
Though, his urge to fight cryptids still lingered from his previous life. A reckless plan that would likely end in his demise, but damn would it be funny. With a light chuckle to himself, Izuru decided that he'd managed to save enough time for him to be able to scout out the surrounding area. The only info he had was that, after Izuku wandered for a while, he heard a gunshot. Even then, Izuku had been at least two blocks away. It wasn't much to go off of, but Izuru had an hour. He'd find a way.
***
An hour had passed. Izuru was, pardon his French, losing his shit. He'd thrown himself throughout Uptown, trying to catch any sight of the culprit he'd be hunting. He'd seen his fair share of people roaming the streets at this hour, but they'd either been harmless crimes like littering or people trying to earn money. Nothing he could morally bring them in for.
Especially not legally. Not with his role in society.
So, that left him swiveling his head left and right, trying to figure out where to look next. He just had to find an alleyway. An alleyway big enough for two. That didn't narrow it down in the slightest.
It was as he was flinging himself onto another rooftop that he heard it. A gunshot piercing through the dead of night. Flinching at the sound, he started to break into a sprint- and realized he didn't have far to go at all. Izuku needed to travel two blocks.
Izuru didn't even need to travel one.
It's as he gazed down into the alley, a familiar view from his time facing that guy with the rhino quirk, that he spotted the scene. An individual holding a gun, standing over the recently fallen body of a man bleeding out. His body moved without him even needing to register the command.
Gloved hands gliding across the brick wall, he rapidly slid down into the alley, whipping out the flashlight from his pocket. It's only due to a split second decision that he decided not to bring it down upon their head. The moment his foot touched the ground, he pushed off, rushing forwards to bash their gun wielding arm with his weapon of choice. This flashlight truly did more bashing than it did any sort of providing light.
The moment the gun hit the floor, Izuru kicked it away, eyes flicking over to take stock of the woman holding her arm. He was positive it was just wounded, not broken in anyway that mattered. Still, she wasn't down yet. It was unfortunate for her that he knew of her quirk.
Touch based. Maybe five finger activation, or just the entire palm in general. He wasn't intending on getting burned tonight. Before she could even consider retaliating, he ran in, sweeping her leg and delivering a punch directly to her forehead. That, combined with the bodies hitting the floor, was enough to put her down. Definitely more violent than necessary, but a gentler fate than she deserved.
Taking her belt, he restrained her arms and then took her phone. Apparently, an emergency call bypassed all needs for protection, so he phoned the cops and gave an explanation of the situation and the location. Pitching his voice wasn't a skill he was an expert in, but he tried his best to differentiate it enough. It would have to be enough.
With no further procrastination, he finally turned to take stock of the man he'd come here to save. Knowing his luck, it was just a scratch. Nothing a little gauze couldn't fix. After thoroughly convincing himself that everything was fine, Izuru turned to face him.
Denial. A river in Egypt, if you're being funny. It also happened to be a state of disbelief, refusing to accept an obvious and factual reality.
A body lay upon the ground. A man in build, but utterly unrecognizable. Missing a substantial chunk of his head. If Izuru were a gambling man, he'd say he was caught from behind. Not even given a chance to defend himself. A robbery? An assassination? He knew things were rough in Uptown, but he expected this behavior from gangs. Couldn't people just band together? What brought things to go this far?
As the puddle beneath the man grew, Izuru stared. He stared and processed. He'd been told saving everyone was impossible, but he made the impossible possible. He changed fate regularly. He wasn't hyping himself up as some quirkless hero, he was going off of the fact he did not belong here. An alien to this world. The laws didn't apply to him when he knew the system inside and out.
So how did he fail? Because his information was incomplete. A book of the future detailed events, but it would never give him all the info he needed. Somewhere in Uptown, someone died. No street, no specific alley, no landmarks. Just a hope and a prayer that he'd be right, that he'd be fast enough.
The solemn joy he felt that he didn't recruit any of the other kids, that they'd get to live their lives peacefully for a few years more. Seeing a human corpse in person was far more haunting than seeing it anywhere else. Those creepy videos were meant for shock value, or some real footage where you think 'at least I'm not there'.
The real deal was more resigned. Everyone's been to a funeral before. Less violent, for sure, but the concept applies. A shell is all that remains. Unlike Izuru, there was nobody to give this man a second chance at life. No quirk could fix what had already happened.
"There are only a few bars in Uptown. Most are cheap garbage, but if you pay enough attention you'll know the one. Late January, two men will be thrown out. One of them will bring out a knife if you're not fast enough. Roughly at two in the morning, and then this happens an hour later. About… seven blocks South? Three blocks West? I don't know the full story, but it seems she has no hesitation," he mumbled to himself, turning away from the man's body to approach the woman once more.
He couldn't accomplish it, so maybe somebody else could. Wouldn't that be funny? Inadvertently saving a life if someone also knew of his story. Another body snatcher that could get a perfect record; avoid the traumas of life a little longer.
Pulling out his knife, he cut off the hoodie of the woman, given he was far too lazy to let her go and tie her up again. Once he'd acquired sufficient fabric, he spared a glance at her… and promptly kicked her directly in the side. Just a brief flicker of anger.
He dropped the hoodie atop the body, covering his upper half. He avoided stepping in the puddle, out of the paranoia that they'd identify him by imprints. Just in time, as he heard sirens approaching. Storing his knife and scrambling back to the rooftops, Izuru allowed doubt to cloud his mind.
Was he angry because a life was lost, or was he angry that his perfect world was shattered?
***
Izuru was a child. A future hero. Someone with a perfect family and friends. A snarky little shit and a ray of sunshine. Someone like him couldn't be a vigilante. More importantly, that energy couldn't be brought back home where his family slept.
So, he sat in one of his warehomes. Back against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. Was it tacky to mimic Izuku? Was it in poor taste to copy Ivy? To gaslight himself into another personality?
No, not a personality. Another person. To differentiate Izuru and a vigilante. To keep that grief packaged by another version of himself. A mask, where age didn't matter. Just so Izuru could still smile with his friends. Where he wouldn't have to fake it.
As he let some ideas rumble throughout his head, he ignored The Voices whispering in his ear. He never understood why people asked if you were 'okay'. What part of tonight had been 'okay'? A silly thing to ask, really. He was a lot of things. Angry, sad, horrified, 'going through it', but definitely not okay.
Maybe he was half-assing it this whole time. He'd gotten lucky so far. Izuku had become a vigilante by pure chance, a means to feel more confident. To matter in the grand scheme of things. Izuru had become a vigilante because that's what he was 'meant' to be. His life was comfortable, he had no need to be running through the streets and living such a dangerous life.
But now there was a life on his hands. A mark of failure because he hadn't taken this seriously. He kept up his training, he tried to become strong, but it was always to prepare for his future as a hero. He never lived in the moment. He never appreciated how much Izuku's life sucked, yet he continued to try and do good. It was funny, really, that someone technically double his age couldn't fill his shoes.
But he could try to be better. There were two names they'd settled on, hadn't they? He could definitely rock with that. A hero name to aspire towards, and a vigilante name to hide behind.
Nightshade.
Even flowers could be highly toxic. This whole vigilante stunt was just poison to his life. But he'd come out of it stronger, or die trying. He just had to keep telling himself tomorrow would be better. He'd be better.
He thanked the powers that be that he'd stumbled upon the one store that didn't bother asking for ID. Vigilante work was one thing, but his coping mechanism of choice was definitely an issue. Fortunately, Izuru could toss the blame elsewhere, couldn't he?
Nightshade tugged his(their?) mask down, lamenting the fact school was tomorrow. A problem for future Izuru. Blocking out the voices, ignoring the flashes of failure that crossed their eyes, they took a drink. It burned, it tasted awful, but memories of another life told them it worked. They'd be fine tonight. They could have a meltdown another day. For now? Just hope their incompetence doesn't fail someone else.
Chapter 15: all i want for christmas is you
Life is strange. You don't really know how to appreciate what you have until it's gone.
Waking up with a mild headache, Izuru checked the time and hissed under his breath. He wasn't running the risk of being late, but he'd definitely be cutting it close if he didn't kick it into high gear soon. He also had to take stock of the messages from Himiko and Iwai asking why he wasn't in bed.
With a groan, he sent them both a message to at least reassure them that he was still kicking. Additionally, he asked Iwai to bring him a change of clothes… along with his uniform. He hadn't needed to shower at school in a while, but desperate times and all that.
He discarded his vigilante gear, taking himself down to his underwear, vaguely aware of the epiphany he'd had last night. Another version of himself, a shadow if you could call it that. Perhaps a mask was more accurate?
Nightshade was definitely an inspired name, perhaps even a little terrifying. It was no 'lethal defender', but it would do the trick. Chuckling to himself, he enjoyed a bit of relaxation before his family came to get him. He could hold it together for that long.
***
Naturally, they both had questions. Iwai had her suspicions, but Himiko was borderline clueless. He'd hate to lie to them, so he had no choice but to give them as much of the truth as possible..
"I'll tell you later," he had said.
They left it at that.
After thanking Iwai for going so far out of her way, he hid his outfit under a blanket in the back of the car. While she did know he owned a gun, he wasn't about to leave it in her car. He'd keep his bag attached to him like a leech until after school. Nobody was stupid enough to mess with his things either way.
***
Katsuki considered himself an observant person. When you bullied as many people as he had, you should expect to make enemies. Then again, so many people had just rolled over and accepted their place in the world. If Deku hadn't done anything in retaliation, he doubted anybody else would.
Though Deku had never done anything about it, Izuku certainly had a thing or two to say. Rather, Izuru as he went by these days. He never expected anyone to ever challenge him, and yet, the one he'd least expected had the guts to do it.
No, that was wrong. Out of anyone he's ever met, Izuru was absolutely the one who'd challenge him one day. Everyone had a cracking point, and he knew the nerd would reach his eventually. He just never expected it to be so soon, or out of the blue like that. Sure, he'd expected him to snap, maybe even fight back… but he hadn't expected to lose.
He'd long since accepted that. He had lost, and he'd even lost at several other things since then. Now that Izuru wasn't holding back anymore, Katsuki could definitely see he wasn't as much of a pushover as he'd previously thought. That just drove him to want to improve even more. In a school full of extras, someone actually worth his time would finally help him grow stronger.
Why was he thinking about all this? Because here he was, sitting with Izuru and Himiko, and he had noticed something off. It was barely noticeable, but something he still picked up, because he had experienced it before. At some point, when Izuru was still Izuku, and he'd called him Deku… there were moments where it felt forced. As if Deku was wearing a mask. That's precisely why Katsuki had pushed him to stand up for himself, to quit faking it.
So why was it that he could feel the fakeness again? Sure, Izuru was still acting the same as usual, but there was obviously something more to it. Something was definitely off. Narrowing his eyes, he decided to get to the bottom of this.
"Oi, Izuru," he barked out, locking eyes with the other boy. "Cut the crap. What's eating at you?"
Making sure to keep his eyes on him, he noticed the very slight shift in expression. The way Izuru's eyes flicked down to the table, a frown crossing his face for a moment. Katsuki honestly expected him to deny it, to put the mask back on, but it seemed as if he had no intention to.
The boy he saw sitting before him looked as if he'd had the world on his shoulders. A haunting look he never expected to see on Izuru. It gave him shivers, but he chose not to comment on it. He would get his answer.
"I… I went on a walk. Uptown is like a home to me, so I decided nothing bad could've happened," the boy paused, pressing his fingers to his forehead. "There was a sound. A gunshot. I went to check it out, and what I found wasn't pretty."
***
Izuru eventually lifted his eyes, figuring only giving some of the truth was better than lying. Bakugo might be his best rival, but he's not giving him the full situation. He just knows he'd probably try to talk him out of it.
What he wasn't prepared for was the shocked looks on both his and Himiko's faces. It never really occurred to him that admitting to seeing a body definitely isn't normal. If they were horrified just hearing about it, they would've been broken actually seeing it.
In his moment of contemplation, he was caught unaware by Himiko wrapping him in a hug. Blinking, he looked down to see her on the verge of tears.
"Are you an idiot, Izuru?! Why would you do something like that! What if you had gotten hurt?!" She angrily shouted, somehow not being heard over the chatter of the rest of the cafeteria.
Even Bakugo seemed to think he grew a second head, scowling at him. "She's right, you damn nerd. Just because you want to be a hero doesn't mean you've gotta go sticking your neck out. We're not trained for that."
Izuru knew they both had valid points, but he literally was trained for that. He had two whole victories under his belt! If he didn't protect his home, who would? With a weary sigh, he wrapped an arm around Himiko. "I'll try to have a bit more self preservation," he lied as easily as he breathed.
***
Izuru idly tapped his foot in the backseat of the car, an oddly festive beat running through his mind. Christmas had already come and gone, but it seemed his tenants hadn't quite gotten the message yet. Being out of sync with the time of your spectators was an odd feeling.
Allowing a small smile to cross his face, he propped his chin up with the palm of his hand and stared out the window. Watching the scenery as it passed him, he sighed. His mood had improved slightly, all things considered, and he had promised to tell them the facts. He just had to be very careful in how he breached it. Should he tell them he knew of the detective? No, but maybe they'd figure something out.
"I didn't come home because I was upset, and I had to make sure I wasn't followed." Now that he was speaking, the story came to him easily. "I… heard a story from someone. A person who was trying to keep Uptown safe. A person who might be a little bit in over their head, and wasn't fast enough to save a life. Apparently it was a pretty gruesome scene. They swore to keep the city safe, and they failed. And… that was a pretty sad thing to hear."
His smile lessened, but getting it off of his chest helped ease the pain a little. Even if they abandoned him for what he was getting up to, he'd have their memories to keep him warm. He wouldn't resent them for it, it was their own choice-
"They sound like they did their best."
Izuru's head snapped up, staring at Iwai as the woman decided to speak up.
"I mean, that was probably terrifying, right? Someone risking their life for other people? Takes courage to wake up and choose to do that everyday. To get back up after getting knocked down."
Izuru's hands tightened into fists, as he was reminded of something. This same woman had helped cheer Hitoshi up when he'd doubted himself. When he'd trusted them enough to talk about his 'villainous' quirk. How could he have doubted his own family?
"As long as they remember there are people cheering for them, I'm sure they'll find a way to get back up."
A family that didn't ask unnecessary questions. That understood he had secrets he kept for their own good. A family that had his back because nobody else would. The true spirit of Uptown. A bunch of neglected people banding together.
A soft chuckle left him as Himiko turned around in her seat, owlishly blinking at him. "So, what's their name? I mean, somebody that cool has to have a name, right?" She nodded her head, as if that was the most concrete logic in the world.
Sinking down in his seat, he shut his eyes, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Nightshade. That's their name."
***
A week passed with Izuru's new normal. Bakugo knew that he'd seen a body, his family knew that he 'knew' who Nightshade was, and as for Hitoshi and Kohaku? Well, he more or less gave them the same story. They were practically family, and they'd probably pick up on it if his emotions were out of control. While they weren't 'true' residents of Uptown, they were at least used to Izuru's unique brand of chaos. They trusted him enough to give them the information they needed; as long as he was safe.
Speaking of, his family found themselves gathered at the library on a Monday afternoon. He hadn't been back on patrol since the incident. He figured that he owed himself some time to decompress, and to actually reassure his family that he was safe. It's likely he'd find danger again soon enough, and he did owe the town his best efforts… but time off was important. People unfortunately died everyday, and many more would meet that fate if Izuru slipped up because he wasn't at his best.
He pointedly chose to ignore the fact that an Izuku running on little sleep and maximum depression managed to stay alive. He didn't have to settle on barely passing, he could go for maximum points.
With DJ cradled in his arms, he squinted at the darkness of the library. Now that he thought about it, the sign had said they were closed. Couldn't they have just hung out at home or something? Don't get him wrong, the library is a great place! But he could be in his bed right now, or something like that. Just anything but in his uniform.
Pity he couldn't tell Todoroki, given who his father was. He at least mentioned the whole 'seeing a dead body' thing, but not the full borderline illegal vigilante details. Even that was too much.
His internal musing is cut short by the power of the sun being flashed directly into his eyes. That is to say, the lights were turned on. When his eyes recovered, what he witnessed were… Christmas decorations? It's not exactly the correct season, so his confusion was understandable.
He pointedly chose to ignore the sound of voices in his head cheering.
Having antlers suddenly placed upon his head, and a tiny hat dropped onto DJ, he blinked directly at Himiko. Somehow, he just knew she was the main cause of this.
"Well, you were bummed out for a bit, and that made me think. When are people most happy?" She paused for dramatic effect. "Birthdays, which it's too early for… and Christmas! So why not have a mini-Christmas so you could be happy?"
He chose not to focus on the fact that in another life, his birthday was approaching. He chose not to mention Thanksgiving also served the same purpose of family coming together. There were many things he could've said or done that would've ruined the moment.
He chose to tap into that accursed Midoriya blood that ran through his veins. He cried himself a river.
Chapter 16: fuck being rational, give 'em what they asked for
Izuru stared at the ceiling of the living room, Hitoshi's arm muffling his nonexistent screams and Himiko using his stomach as a pillow. After that little party of theirs, their parents had decided a sleepover was in order. Really, he had no problem with that. It allowed him to make sure his loved ones were safe, it gave him an excuse to sleep outside of his room, and it gave DJ an excuse to use his legs as a place to rest.
What a time to be alive. He really was happy; a bit restless, but happy. So happy, in fact, that he decided not to bring it up when he spotted Iwai and Kohaku waking up to make breakfast. He didn't even feel the need to point out they were wearing each other's shirts. He truly was such a good person to not save them from the heckling their other children would give them over such a thing.
What a peaceful start to a day.
***
The week came and went. Izuru had decided to take it easy, simply brushing up on his skills and making sure he was fully prepared for when he'd actually hit the town again. He felt content in his life, especially when a pivotal event was about to occur. Alone on a Friday night in his room, with his radio on. He usually didn't have much use for such things, but Present Mic had a pretty special message this time around. He knew the time was upon him when the caller spoke up, some young adult sounding woman.
"Hey, Present Mic! I'm such a huge fan!" her voice crackled through the radio speakers.
"Aw, thanks, Listener. Always happy to hear from a fan! What question's got you callin' in tonight?" Present Mic responded smoothly.
"Oh, right, hah. My little brother just got into Shiketsu and I'm worried about him. I know being a hero is really dangerous so I wanted to know what you think the hardest part about being a hero is and if you had any advice," the caller said.
"Awesome! Congrats to your little bro, Listener!" Mic said before pausing, actually thinking about the question. "The hardest part about being a hero huh…" he paused again before continuing in a much more somber tone.
"The hardest part, for me at least, is when you can't save someone. I get to do a lot of good in my position, I've had the honor of saving a lot of people but the weight of my success doesn't ever seem to measure up to the weight of my failures. I know this is something a lot of heroes struggle with, no matter how many people you save, you can never forget the people who were too far out of reach. So, if I had any advice for your lil' bro, I'd say don't be too hard on yourself. It's important to take your job seriously and realize the significance behind every life you save and every life you lose, but you can't let that hold you back from doing more good in the world. No hero is capable of saving everyone so don't hold yourself up to an unattainable standard, ya' dig?" Present Mic said unaware that he was giving a young vigilante a much needed pick-me-up.
"...you can't let that hold you back from doing more good in the world."
Izuru focused on that line. He allowed it to loop through his mind. He clutched onto it like a lifeline. You miss every shot you don't take. The only failure is not trying in the first place. People would die even if he didn't do anything, so the least he could do is try to lessen that number. He just had to try, that's all anyone could ask.
***
Stretching his limbs, Izuru got ready to head out. It was late and dreary on a Saturday night, the moon high in the sky. Really, it was more of the fading embers of Friday, but who was really counting? He really had to figure out a better idea than changing into his gear and leaving out of his house, but… it only mattered that he wasn't followed home. Nobody would camp out and expect him to leave the place if they never knew he lived there.
But it's a good thing it'd never come to that. He'd sooner die before any harm came to his family. Placing a hand on the door to Iwai's room, he silently hoped for a good night. That he'd be able to come back home to them, that he'd be able to put Bakugo in the dirt in their next fight, that he'd be able to help Shoto break out of his shell more. That he'd be able to officially say he had two moms.
With a soft snort, he dropped some treats down for DJ, heading out the front door and locking it behind him. It was time to put his money where his mouth was.
***
It wasn't even 12:30 AM and he had already found a mugging in progress. Great. Not for the victim, but for them. It meant they had a job to do. While some people could be excused in their criminal activity due to unfortunate circumstances, Nightshade still had a track record to keep up. Carefully sliding down the alley wall, they arrived behind the mugger soon enough to deliver a swift chop to the back of his neck. It took a bit of a hop, but they'd grow into it eventually.
Once the man dropped like a sack of bricks, Nightshade stared at the woman. Shivering in her timbers, covered in an obviously fake fur coat, and wearing some admittedly nice jewelry. With a weary sigh through their mask, Nightshade held up their hands in a placating gesture.
"It okay, I'm joy."
The sheer perplexing nature of that sentence was enough for the woman to momentarily forget she just saw her assailant get knocked out by a marginally short individual. With that small victory accomplished, Nightshade set to work binding the man's wrists with his own belt. Once that was done, they looked at the woman, tilting their head.
"Yo, you alright?" they asked.
With that brief moment to herself, she seemed considerably more calm than before she'd gotten rescued. The woman eventually nodded, and they'd take that as a fact, considering she wasn't physically harmed. Mentally speaking was for a therapist.
Chuckling to themself, they extended a hand. "You're not from around here, are ya? Did you come here with someone?"
She stared at their hand for several moments, before taking it. "Yeah, m-my boyfriend, he– we got in a fight and I-I don't know where he went." She finally spoke.
Nightshade let out a little hum, leading them away from the scene. With a short stop to equip the man's phone to call the police, they were on their way to the train station. "The train station. Does the J line work for you?"
The gears in the woman's mind clicked and turned away, before she eventually nodded. "I, uh, y-yeah, the J line takes me to my sister's place."
Nightshade nodded, glancing back at her. "You should let her know you're on the way. Have her meet you at the station, maybe?" After a short pause, they continued, "Give her the number of the train once it arrives, too."
By the time they'd arrived at the station, the woman had texted her sister and gotten confirmation that she'd be there awaiting her. Hands in their pockets, they watched her depart soon enough, slowly breathing out through his nose. "...Another life later, and drunk women still worry me."
Ushering that unsettling thought from their mind, Nightshade once again resumed their patrol.
***
The night drew to a close, and Nightshade had another knife to add to the collection. Two more muggings had been called in, and to round off the night, they'd even had to deal with a sexual assault! Morally speaking, theft could be understood if you squinted; some people just needed it badly and didn't have the means otherwise. But assault? There are many fish in the sea, and trying to catch one that doesn't want to be is downright rude.
Ignoring the fisherman metaphors, they'd been particularly annoyed by that incident. Nightshade certainly didn't hurt him in a way that would require intensive care, but he certainly wouldn't be waking up for a while. They'd avoided all of his vitals, at the very least.
Rolling their shoulders, they set off back towards home, running across as many rooftops as possible. They weren't perfect. They'd slip up eventually. All that mattered was getting back up, right? For every life lost, they just had to strive to save twice as many. As the sun slowly began to rise, Nightshade laughed into the open air.
They'd save a million.
***
A night of running wild was one way to get the stress out, another way was to lay up in his room doing exercises. It would be boring work, if not for the fact he had company. It was a bit difficult keeping count of things when he could hear voices running wild in his head, but they happened to be entertaining sometimes. It was especially fun when he could hear 'himself'. Was his life truly so dramatic before he ended up here? He didn't miss it.
Okay, he did. A little bit. Maybe a lot. There were things worth sticking around for, but also some pains he could live without. Such as- No, no. That was a lifetime ago. Izuru wasn't that person anymore. Those people literally didn't exist to him anymore. There was no closure to be had. He'd simply be content with the 'stories' he heard from his other self. It's far easier to cope by imagining this is all disconnected from him somehow.
After that exciting round of a near crisis, he'd managed to finish his exercises. Simple little things to keep him active and stable. Did other kids his age even exercise like this? Probably not nearly as much. Did he classify as a gym rat? Maybe a gym hamster. A funny little inside joke to roll around in his head.
Mentally patting himself on the back for his comedy routine, he sat up and glanced at his bed. The furry fluff ball of death known as DJ stared right back at him. With a grin on his face, he slowly rose and then promptly dove at his bed. With not even a flinch, the cat stared unamused as her faithful owner scooped her up into a hug and a tactical combat roll across the soft surface.
Triumphantly holding her up to the sky, Izuru wiggled her around ever so slightly. "New year, new me, DJ. I think things are really gonna start looking up. I mean, it's not like my mental health can spike downwards again, right?"
He waited for a response that would never come. Though, the lazy lip licking may as well be a response. She totally agreed! "You're right. I knew I could count on you to pierce the angst in my life. That's why you're the bestest pet a guy could ask for!"
Glancing to the side, he equipped the TV remote to turn it on. He was eternally grateful that Youtube still existed in this place. While the moment had already passed for him, he'd decided to find an old recording. It wouldn't be the same as it was in his time, but it'd have to do. He never stopped to consider checking to see if maybe real life people he knew did exist in this place. Wouldn't that be sad? A future where he'd either never existed, or failed to remember.
Could he just focus on the positive for once? With a sigh, his gaze drifted from the recording of the ball dropping to look up at DJ. "...It'll be just fine. I'm sure of it."
In lieu of a response, she reminded him that he was only holding her up with one hand at the moment. How did she do that? By dropping directly onto his face.
Chapter 17: sloppy seconds
The perks of having a healthy relationship with his friends and family were long periods of time where he felt 'normal'. He wasn't doing mental gymnastics on why Hitoshi disliked him, or making up excuses for Bakugo hating his guts. He knew where the problems were, and he did his best to solve them. It didn't do him any good to spiral into madness over a misunderstanding.
Still, that didn't mean he was the apex of mental health. He was just slightly more adjusted than Izuku. Or maybe mentally ill in a different direction? Either way, this truly was a huge victory for the major Izuru shareholders. A mean, green, fully functioning machine.
Though, he couldn't say running around at night tying up criminals counted as a mentally stable thing to do. Batman definitely had trauma in spades, and while Izuru was no Batman… he definitely had issues. Probably something he should talk to a therapist about. Or a trusted adult. Really, he should do anything other than tying people up with scrap pieces of rope he found.
Speaking of, the whole using their own belt thing was a solid plan, but not one that would always work out. So, rope was added to the inventory. Random lengths, easily enough cut if need be, and plenty durable to hold most. It was only temporary until the cops got there, of course. A simple spell, but quite unbreakable.
He wished he could say all of his plans were solid. What's the deal with stories leaving out the important minor details? How was Izuru supposed to not get stabbed if he didn't know every single little piece of information? Suffice to say, some days he went in blind and paid the price for it. He was arguably better equipped than Izuku was by this stage, but he was still dealing with grown adults. His track record was sweet, but not enough to say he was escaping every fight uninjured. An ambush predator is what he tried to be, but even he was prone to mistakes. What a shocker.
***
Hitoshi slowly sipped a juice box, staring at Izuru. It wasn't that unusual to see the boy spotting some random injury. A bruise here, some bandages there. It was just who he was. Hitoshi didn't have all the details, but they've established it was a need to know basis. He just assumed he didn't need to know all that. Didn't mean he couldn't have fun teasing him though.
"So. Lose another fight?" he asked, slowly sipping away.
With an exaggerated sigh, Izuru began to tell the incredibly exciting tale of how he not only won the fight, but he should see the other guy. He was a weird little dude to be certain, but still the best friend a guy could ask for.
***
Izuru wasn't exactly sure what the big issue was. What was the problem with people underestimating you? Being underestimated meant no expectations. Everything you did was a surprise. So what if criminals didn't take him seriously because of his voice? It just made them look even goofier when they got dropped on their ass.
Sitting on top of the latest unconscious criminal, he hummed a little tune to himself. It surely was funny that people had a tier list to these things. A male hero was to be feared, a child was to be mocked, and a woman was an absolute joke. A harsh reality to accept, but one he could do nothing to change. At the bare minimum, he could just not correct them. It didn't hurt for people to make their own assumptions. Was Nightshade a child? A woman? A very convincing actor?
None of that mattered. What did matter was the fact that while a voice modulator wasn't a necessity for him, he could see the comedic value. In his spare time, he got to work on his little project. Sue him, but he thought being able to pull off a Darth Vader impression could be quite the treat. Not to mention certain people could benefit from his idea. It wasn't as if his friends would automatically assume vigilante activity just from him playing around with some support gear, right?
Over the course of several months, his time was split between gathering up scrap and actually going to the store. The perks of having money and being friends with a rich kid. Not that he asked for money, but Shoto seemed eager to use his dad's funds whenever he had the chance to. Honestly? Valid.
Hitoshi and Shoto had both been recruited, because one of them could benefit from being able to fake their voice, and the other had fire powers. It classified as great quirk practice! Shoto had made leaps and bounds in confidence with his flame powers, and Izuru just knew if they had the same matchup as in canon at the Sports Festival that he just might be cooked. He'd cross that bridge when he got there though.
Outside of work activities, Shoto had also met Himiko and Bakugo at different points. It seemed that he and his sister both had fun rambling on about nonsensical conspiracy theories. It was just hilarious watching Bakugo try to get a reaction out of the guy; the clash between an explosive personality and an immovable wall. Though, after that meeting, Izuru had recommended that Shoto actually learn to not rely on just his quirk. While it might be stronger than Bakugo's on paper, that boy was also trying his best to keep up with Izuru and his 'nothing but hands' philosophy. If he got in close, Shoto might have a little bit of trouble.
But would he lose? That's up for debate.
***
Nightshade was a pretty well known figure in Uptown. Nightshade specifically, because Izuru's relevance as a person wasn't important right now. Nightshade was the one running around at night and making sure the women in the area got home safely. Just because they got paid to do their job doesn't mean men had the right to harass them. They could wait in line like everybody else!
Of course, none of them knew Nightshade's real name. It was far better that way. The lady he'd saved once upon a time might have some suspicion, but she didn't bring anything up. Really, he wouldn't be surprised if they all knew, but they were exceptionally tight lipped about it. The fact that they helped keep Uptown safe, along with an assumed connection to Iwai, meant that Nightshade's identity was the world's best kept secret. They appreciated that, really.
What they did not appreciate was the obnoxious teasing just because of their age. They were just as, if not more, capable than many adults; there was no need to bully them for being short! They were pushed into a corner so often that sometimes they had to slip into a more 'stoic' persona, just to maintain some dignity.
Though, unfortunately for them, there was someone far worse than Iwai in the area. While they knew Nightshade had some sort of connection to Iwai, they never commented on it. And other than the woman they saved giving her thanks, there wasn't anyone who cared to bring it up. Except for one person that they'd seen around the house sometimes. Their one fear, if you will.
Sakura. Hair as pink as her namesake, the complete opposite of them in skin tone, and boots that could crush Goombas. Nightshade absolutely did not have any sort of weak spot for their mom's friend (who was significantly younger) that they couldn't interact in any way that mattered because the powers that be cursed them into this body.
Not important. Irrelevant, even. It didn't matter. There was no proof that their charisma points (read: zero) dropped to abysmal levels when confronted with her, that the other girls frequently got a good laugh whenever one of their youngest teased him, that they might keep a seemingly immortal sakura flower pinned to their hair along with a vase that one time Izuru asked for a demonstration of her quirk when she visited and-
The homeless population! They loved Nightshade. Probably. They frequently gave out directions to suitable places to spend the night, or even set up camp. They even scavenged blankets and such to give out! All for the sake of gaining influence, of course; like saving a cat from a tree. Just beating up criminals wasn't going to spread the word that the streets were safe.
Shimamoto was also a cool person. Tossing out old pastries to beggars? Pretty based. Nightshade could get behind such kind actions. Not that they needed the pastries, on account of actually having a stable home life. Not that they didn't indulge sometimes. It would be rude to decline. But wasn't that just great? A community. They were all coming together, a connected spider web in a way. They just had to prop each other up.
***
Gangs and drug dealers. Truly a dangerous bunch. Izuru was just one person, and despite the shift in pronouns, so was Nightshade. He couldn't possibly hope to take down an entire criminal organization alone. Well, not as he is now. Maybe after One For All kicked in. He simply lacked the firepower. It's the same way that, say, All For One could level Uptown and leave not a trace behind. A fundamental power level difference.
He was getting ahead of himself. He couldn't take out a gang on his own. Sure, he harassed some people from time to time, but that wasn't cutting off the root of the problem. Beating these lower level mooks wasn't doing anything to the grand scheme of things. He certainly was no Giorno, he had no intention of joining a gang just to dismantle it. Besides, the local gangs weren't even that strong! It explains why they only lurked in Uptown. They were no Overhaul or All For One or-
He's rambling again. The fact of the matter is, he did his best to make it seem as if he was everywhere at once. A quirkless kid is all he was, but they had no idea that was the reality they lived in. Sure, one day he would probably bring the entire thing down, but that wasn't today. So, Izuru made up a plan. A very clever plan. A plan that nobody could ever possibly see through.
He called Nighteye. He hadn't really spoken to the man much since that first meeting, given the age gap. Maybe some All Might merchandise sightings here and there. But he had a particular reason for this call! So, twirling an invisible phone cord around his finger, he struck.
"Nighteye! Been a while," the boy exclaimed, an unnatural level of enthusiasm in his voice.
The man on the other end of the line currently sat in his office, blinking slowly at the random call. He certainly hadn't expected this. "Sugiyama. How can I help?"
Izuru had come a long way from the boy who struggled to change fate when first meeting Iwai. Now he'd come prepared to lie his ass off!
"Have you ever heard about the yakuza? Who am I kidding, everyone's heard of them. They're like super important gangs, right?" The boy rambled on, figuring if he spoke rapid fire enough that the man wouldn't have the chance to question anything.
"So, I got curious. All Might is like THE number one hero, but who's the number one yakuza? A hero has gotta know these things," he mumbled, glancing about like he could be seen. "The Shie Hassaikai. At least, that's what I've heard. Weird how such a public group is still running free, y'know?"
On the other side of the phone, Nighteye sat still, baffled at the sheer amount of nonsense he was hearing. It was downright criminal to indulge such thoughts in a child, but he wasn't wrong about the fact that the yakuza were fairly obvious public figures. "...They're not nearly as free as they once were. With heroes and villains on the rise, they've fallen further into obscurity. I'm surprised you know of them."
Izuru shrugged, despite the fact he couldn't be seen. "My neighborhood is pretty dangerous, but it helps to know that it could've always been worse. It's like a history lesson, right?" Izuru drummed his fingers on the table, deciding to go in for the kill. "It's weird, though. No matter where I look, I can't get a name for their boss. Plenty of pictures, weird enough, but it's like the guy has no identity!"
"You're not wrong. Their boss is a very secretive man. You'd have better luck finding out about his right hand, Kai Chisaki." The man knew he might be oversharing, but spreading knowledge to a student was rewarding in its own way. His enthusiasm reminded him of someone. Perhaps that's why information flowed so freely.
Izuru leaned back in his chair, huffing. "Kai Chisaki, huh? Seems like a scary guy." He knew what he had to do, but it was going to be infinitely annoying to pull off. "Thanks for the info, Nighteye. Appreciate it."
As he hung up, Izuru realized he had his work cut out for him. Using one organization to wipe out a smaller organization, while also trying to redeem that bigger organization? It was early enough in the timeline, perhaps he could pull it off. A redemption arc, if you will. Maybe he was good enough to give the yakuza an overhaul.