Inko is preparing dinner, humming softly to herself. The kitchen smells of miso soup and grilled fish. She sets a high-quality digital camera on the counter, next to a stack of newspapers.
INKO (calling out):
"Andrew! The payment came through! They're offering 5,000 yen per photo now. You're getting quite good at capturing him."
ANDREW (from his room):
"That's great, Mom! I'll grab more shots this week."
Inko smiles, returning to her cooking. The extra income from Andrew's photography has been a lifesaver. With bills piling up and her work hours limited, having both her sons contribute—even in small ways—means everything.
She doesn't realize the weight of the secret she's inadvertently protecting.
📸 Scene: Later That Evening – Kitchen
Izuku comes downstairs, heading to the fridge for a drink. His hero analysis notebook is tucked under his arm as usual. He stops short when he sees the camera on the counter.
He picks it up, noticing the professional-grade lens and sensor. This isn't a cheap camera. Someone invested serious money into this.
Curious, he turns it on.
The LCD screen floods with images: Spider-Man mid-swing, Spider-Man on rooftops, Spider-Man in combat with criminals. The angles are incredible—some shots captured mid-action, others perfectly framed against the Tokyo skyline. These aren't lucky shots. These are professional shots.
IZUKU (thinking):
These are… amazing. The composition, the timing, the focus. Who took these?
He hears footsteps coming down the stairs.
Andrew appears, already dressed in casual clothes after what must have been a long night out. His hoodie is slightly torn at the seam, and there's a faint red mark on his neck—maybe a scrape, maybe nothing.
He stops when he sees Izuku holding the camera.
For a fraction of a second, Andrew's entire body tenses. His eyes widen slightly. It's a tell—a moment of raw panic before the mask slides back into place.
ANDREW (carefully):
"Hey. Careful with that. It's expensive."
IZUKU (turning to him):
"Andrew… did you take these photos?"
Andrew approaches slowly, taking the camera from Izuku's hands. He studies his own work for a moment, then nods.
ANDREW:
"Yeah. I did."
IZUKU (impressed despite himself):
"These are incredible. I didn't know you were into photography."
ANDREW (shrugging):
"It's recent. I started about six months ago. You know how tight money's been for Mom. I figured if I could get decent shots of Spider-Man, maybe I could sell them to the news outlets."
He turns the camera off and set it gently on the counter.
ANDREW (cont'd):
"Turns out, people are really interested in him. The newspapers started bidding against each other for exclusive shots. It's decent money."
IZUKU (still looking at the camera):
"That's… actually really smart. You're helping Mom."
ANDREW:
"Yeah, well. Someone has to. We're not getting any younger, and her job alone isn't cutting it."
There's a moment of awkward silence. Izuku wants to ask more—how Andrew manages to get such perfect shots, how he knows where Spider-Man will be, how he captures such precise moments. But something in Andrew's tone discourages further questions.
IZUKU:
"Do you… do you ever see him in person?"
The question hangs in the air.
Andrew meets Izuku's gaze directly. For a moment, they're just two brothers, and Izuku is searching for something in Andrew's eyes. Truth. Confirmation. Something.
ANDREW (calm, measured):
"Sometimes. You have to be in the right place at the right time. It's mostly luck and pattern recognition. Spider-Man tends to patrol certain districts at certain times. If you study the reports, you can predict where he'll be."
It's not a lie. It's just… not the whole truth.
IZUKU:
"That's dangerous. Going out late at night, trying to photograph a vigilante in action."
ANDREW:
"It's no more dangerous than anything else. I'm careful."
IZUKU (softly):
"You're always careful. But you're also always bruised. Always tired."
Andrew doesn't flinch. He's prepared for this line of questioning.
ANDREW:
"Comes with the territory. You slip, you fall, you get scraped up. It happens."
Izuku studies his brother for a long moment. There's something he's not saying. Something behind Andrew's perfectly reasonable explanations.
But the camera is there. The photos are real. The money is real. Mom mentioned the payments. It all checks out.
IZUKU (finally):
"Okay. Just… be safe, alright? I don't want you getting hurt because of some photography gig."
ANDREW (with genuine warmth):
"I will. I promise."
He places a hand on Izuku's shoulder, and for just a moment, Izuku sees something in his brother's eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or concern. Or the weight of a secret too big to share.
Then Andrew smiles, and the moment passes.
ANDREW (cont'd):
"Besides, you're the one who's going to be a hero. I'm just the guy with the camera. You're the one taking the real risks."
IZUKU:
"That's not how it works."
ANDREW:
"I know. But I'm going to believe it anyway."
🏠 Scene: Andrew's Room – Later That Night
Andrew sits at his workbench, surrounded by web-shooter components and engineering schematics. He's in the middle of upgrading the pressure valve system when he hears Izuku's footsteps pass by his door.
The close call with the camera earlier has shaken him more than he'd like to admit.
ANDREW (thinking):
He was suspicious. For a second there, I thought he'd figured it out. But the camera gave me an out.
Mom knowing about the photography gig—that was smart. It gives me a legitimate reason to be out at night. A legitimate reason for the bruises, the exhaustion, the pattern.
But how much longer can I keep this up? How much longer before Izuku puts the pieces together?
He sets down his tools and opens his laptop, pulling up a browser. Almost on autopilot, he searches: "Spider-Man stories."
Articles from his past life flood the screen. Comics, movies, documentaries. He clicks through them—stories of tragedy, loss, sacrifice. Uncle Ben. Gwen Stacy. Mary Jane. The constant weight of responsibility.
With great power comes great responsibility.
He's read these stories a thousand times. Watched the movies. Absorbed the lessons. And when he woke up in this world with spider powers, part of him thought he could be different. Do it better. Avoid the tragedies.
But lately, something has been gnawing at him. A creeping dread he can't quite name.
Over the past few months, he's noticed patterns in the criminal operations he's been stopping. The Trigger distribution network. The enhanced dealer operations. The coordinated Quirk trafficking rings. They're not random street-level crimes.
They're organized. They're connected.
And he has no idea who's pulling the strings.
ANDREW (thinking):
There's something bigger happening. I can feel it. Multiple criminal operations, all seemingly separate, but they have the same fingerprints. The same structure.
But every time I try to trace it back, the leads go cold. Shell companies. Fall guys. People who don't know who they're really working for.
It's like… like someone is orchestrating all of this from the shadows.
He closes the laptop and looks at the web-shooter again. His hands are shaking slightly—something he doesn't fully understand.
ANDREW (cont'd, thinking):
Spider-Man's stories are tragedies. Every iteration. Every version. And I keep wondering…
What if that's not just fiction? What if that's just… how it goes? What if no matter how hard you try, no matter how smart you are, something always goes wrong?
What if I'm not the exception? What if I'm just another chapter in a story that ends badly?
He looks at a photo he'd printed—one of the criminal operations he'd disrupted. The Trigger network. The enhanced dealers. The coordinated cells.
ANDREW (cont'd, thinking):
Someone is building something. Preparing for something. And I'm just… reacting. Playing defense.
But what if they're three moves ahead? What if everything I've been stopping is just a test?
He stands up and walks to his window, looking out at the Tokyo skyline. Somewhere out there, forces he can't see are moving. Making plans. And he's caught in the middle, unable to see the full picture.
The anxiety sits heavy in his chest—not debilitating, but persistent. A shadow that follows him even when he's trying to focus on his work.
ANDREW (cont'd, thinking):
I need to be faster. Smarter. Stronger. Because something's coming, and I don't think I'm ready for it.
He returns to his workbench, but his hands aren't steady as he continues building. The fear is there, underlying everything.
He looks at the web-shooter in his hands. The upgraded design that Aizawa helped him conceptualize. The tools of a hero, hidden in plain sight.
ANDREW (cont'd, thinking):
When Izuku finds out—and he will find out, eventually—I hope he understands why I kept this from him. Not to hurt him. Not to push him away.
But to protect him. Because the moment he knows, he becomes a target.
And I'm starting to think there are things out there that are hunting. Things that are watching.
Things I can't stop alone.
He returns to his work, focusing on the intricate wiring of the pressure valve. Each component has to be perfect. Each system has to be reliable. Because very soon, he's going to need all of this. He's going to need to be stronger, faster, smarter.
But the fear remains. Quiet. Persistent. Gnawing.
🍽️ Scene: Midoriya Household – Dinner Table
The family sits together for dinner. Inko has made a special meal—extra vegetables, better quality fish. It's subtle, but it's a celebration of the extra money coming in.
INKO (smiling):
"Andrew, the newspaper called again. They want an exclusive contract. 10,000 yen per photo, guaranteed minimum of five a week."
ANDREW (genuinely pleased):
"That's great, Mom."
INKO:
"You've been working so hard. Both of you have. I'm proud of you."
She reaches over and squeezes Andrew's hand. Izuku watches the interaction, and his suspicions flicker for just a moment before he pushes them down.
IZUKU:
"Andrew's going to be rich at this rate."
ANDREW (laughing):
"Rich is a strong word. Comfortable is more like it."
But inside, Andrew is processing something else. The money is real. The help he's providing to his family is real. The photography cover story is solid and verifiable.
But it's also a lie wrapped around a deeper truth.
And the longer he maintains it, the more complicated everything becomes.
ANDREW (thinking):
One day, Izuku will know the truth. And when he does, I hope he understands that I did this—all of this—to protect him. To help him. To give him the space to be a hero the right way.
But tonight, we're just a family having dinner.
And that's enough.
📝 Scene: Aldera Middle School – Next Day
News of Andrew's Spider-Man photography reaches the school. A few students mention it casually in the hallway—"Hey, that Midoriya kid is selling photos to the newspaper. Pretty cool, right?"
Bakugo overhears and scoffs, but doesn't comment directly to Andrew. There's a shift though—a slight decrease in hostility. If Andrew's making money doing something interesting, maybe he's not completely useless after all.
Izuku remains quiet, watching his brother navigate the school day with his usual ease. Andrew laughs with classmates, focuses during lessons, and shows no signs of the double life he's clearly living.
IZUKU (thinking):
There's something he's not telling me. But he's helping Mom. He's not hurting anyone. And he promised to be safe.
Maybe that's enough for now. Maybe I need to trust him.
He makes a mental note in his hero analysis notebook:
"Andrew Midoriya - Photography Career: Increasingly skilled at capturing Spider-Man in action. Appears to have systematic approach to locating vigilante. Earning significant income for household. Safety concerns, but brother assures precautions are taken."
He closes the notebook, unaware of how close he is to the truth.
🌃 Scene: Rooftop – Night
Spider-Man stands on a rooftop overlooking the city, his phone in hand. A message from Aizawa's burner phone:
"Trigger operation was the start. AFO is escalating. Be ready."
Andrew stares at the message, processing the implications.
The year is progressing. The threats are growing. Izuku is getting suspicious. And somewhere out there, All For One is watching, waiting, planning.
SPIDER-MAN (thinking):
The close call today reminded me that I can't keep this secret much longer. Not from Izuku. Not from anyone.
But I'm not ready. Not yet.
Just a little longer. Just until I'm strong enough. Smart enough. Ready enough.
Because when everything comes out—and it will—I need to be able to protect everyone I care about.
He fires a web line and launches into the night, disappearing into the darkness of the Tokyo skyline.
Behind him, the city sleeps, unaware of the forces gathering in the shadows.