Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya died in a house fire when he was 8 years old.
Wake up.
He was never meant to be anything special. His life, his very existence, was supposed to be a tiny pinprick in history. He was born useless, and he was going to die useless.
Wake up!
Oh yes, he was going to die.
WAKE UP!
Izuku opened his eyes and saw the crimson inferno devouring his home. So much fire, and so much more pain. It felt as if his whole back was being eaten alive by flames, which it probably was.
Where was he? What was going on? Where had Mom gone?
Mom was dead. And Izuku was burning alive. Despite the heat, the thought made him feel cold. Who had done this to him? Why couldn’t he remember? The pain was becoming all-consuming, scorching his body and singeing his hair.
Dad.
Dad had done this to him. But why? Izuku must have deserved it. He looked around desperately for any semblance of familiarity, but all he found was fire. He was supposedly in his apartment, but it was almost unrecognizable. It was burning to the ground in front of his eyes. Izuku had to get out.
Unfortunately, Izuku’s body had other plans. No matter how much he struggled or willed his body to move, it would not obey him.
He closed his eyes, searching the very depths of his mind for a peaceful moment. Preferably one with his mother in it. But came up short. A numb, cooling sensation was now coming over him. It was a long welcome change from the searing heat. Izuku guessed his body had dealt with enough of the pain.
He was sad, he supposed. Just four years ago, everything had seemed so hopeful, so bright. He had had a functional community. He had a father who tolerated him, a mother who loved him, and a best friend who didn’t hate him. How did it all go away so fast?
It was as if a rug had been swiftly pulled from under Izuku’s feet, sending him stumbling headfirst into the darkness.
Deeper still he fell, as the fiery world around him shifted, and the darkness overtook him once more.
Izuku faded to black.
__________
7 years later:
Yagi nervously shifted in his chair under the gaze of Eraserhead, one of the Pros teaching at U.A. Ever since he had started searching for a successor at the hero school, the man seemed to have it out for him, though Yagi had no idea why.
It brought him back to memories of Gran. Why did this man have to be so scary?! He looked like a mummy with all of those bandages wrapped around his face.
“I take it that everyone has arrived,” Nedzu said, addressing the U.A. staff as he walked into the meeting room with Detective Tsukauchi, who had a stack of files in his hand, trailing close behind him.
“Yes, everyone is here,” Eraserhead grumbled.
“Good!” The Principal chirped. “Now, I believe many of you want to know why you find yourselves here this evening during your time of rest and recovery. Several of the teachers nodded and whispered in agreement amongst themselves.
“Well, something has come up. I’m sure all of you recall the unfortunate attack on some of our first years in the hero course last week?” The principal asked.
The room became dead quiet.
Of course, everyone remembered the USJ incident. In all his years of heroism, besides failing to kill All For One, it was Yagi’s greatest regret. He was sure other people in the room felt the same way.
He should have been stronger. He should have been faster. He should have been better. All the power of being the strongest man in the world, and Yagi was still a subpar hero.
“Well, some new information has come to light, thanks to All Might,” Nedzu nodded to him, “and we fear we may be dealing with something that runs far deeper than just a random attack on the Top Hero School.”
The principal took the stack of files from Tsukauchi and placed them on the table. “Thank you for making individual copies for us, Detective. Everyone, please take one and pass it down.”
The files made their way across the room until everyone had a copy. Yagi opened his own, nearly gasping at the contents inside as he read them over and over, searching for a hidden meaning in the pages. He half expected Nedzu to chuckle and yell ‘Just kidding!’ to the table.
“Sir, you can’t be serious.” Vlad King said in disbelief.
“Oh, I completely am,” Nedzu stated.
“But to make this work, you’d have to break at least a dozen laws.” Midnight said matter-of-factly.
“My dear Kayama, surely you must know by now that such feeble things are beneath me,” Nedzu said sweetly.
“I’m right here,” Tsukauchi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Yagi sympathized with him. If All For One really was back, then he was sure to have his hands full.
Eraserhead closed his copy of the file and placed it on the table. “What’s your angle with this, sir? I honestly don’t see the benefit of bringing in a bunch of children into a case this dangerous. It’s reckless endangerment.”
Present Mic nodded. “I agree with Eraser on this one. Even if they were fully-fledged adults, it still isn’t the most practical of plans. They’re vigilantes. Not exactly known for adhering to the rules of heroism. Just look how Steadhal turned out.”
Nedzu took a seat at the head of the table. “I, of course, understand many of your concerns. But I assure you, these children are quite more capable than we give them credit for.”
He pointed to one of the names on the file. “This boy right here managed to elude the law for years as a wanted vigilante.” He chirped happily.
Yagi shuddered. Even he, who didn’t interact with the underground much, knew that name on the file. That silent vigilante, who supposedly wielded a sword, ruthlessly cutting down their victims, leaving them just barely alive.
“Capability isn’t the problem here. Like Mic said, they are vigilantes, and that boy has made quite a name for himself in the underground, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is still a child.” Eraserhead argued.
“But surely, sir, it's like Midnight stated, this can’t be legal,” Cementoss said.
“If the Hero Commission approves, it will be considered as government service!”
“I think this is a terrible idea. The people you requested for this program of yours are in prison for a reason.” The Cement Hero countered, pushing his copy of the file back towards Nedzu. “Vigilantism is a serious crime.”
“They are children led astray. Who better deserves a second chance? I do not need an answer from you right now, but we will meet back when school starts up in a few days for the final vote. I suggest you weigh the options of this program before you vote against it. This is for the safety and protection of our students after all.”
Yagi remembered when Nedzu had approached him about the initiative after hearing about the possible return of Japan's most wretched villain.
“I’ve been working on something for about a year now, a sort of an Initiative if you will. I think now would be the perfect time to try it out. With your consent, of course. This is your battle after all. If you don’t want me getting involved, I’ll just have to wait for the next national crisis, I suppose.”
He had been incredibly vague, not sharing anything about vigilantes or possibly illegal endeavors. Yagi thought about his response. “If this is who we think it is, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
There was no going back on it now. This is what he agreed to after all, albeit without much information going into it. Yagi knew how he was voting, but as he glanced around the room at U.A.'s teachers, his new colleagues, he couldn’t help but wonder who would vote for what, and if this new “Initiative” would be turned down before it even had the chance to prove its usefulness.
Nedzu nodded to them before standing up and making his way to the door.
“That's all, meeting adjourned.”
__________
Shouta Aizawa was livid.
No, Livid didn’t even begin to describe how Shouta was taking this. How could Principal Nedzu ask something as horrible as this? These were children! Kids, for God’s sake!
Was it some kind of joke? A logical ruse, perhaps? As much as he hoped it was, he knew his superior was being utterly and completely serious. He sighed and melted into the couch.
He had taken his file home. It sat open on the coffee table, it seemed to have an ominous aura about it, the mugshot of each child stared back at him from where he looked upon them.
“Shou? You ok in there?” Hizashi asked from their small apartment's kitchen unit, where he was brewing his husband a cup of coffee.
“I don’t understand,” Shouta said. “How does he think this is a good idea?” Hizashi sighed, walking over to sit next to Shouta on the couch. “I get it. You have a complicated relationship with Vigilantism.”
Shouta let out a huff of annoyance. He had worked with vigilantes before in the field, many of whom had been younger than he would have expected them to be. He had seen firsthand the consequences of donning a mask illegally and fighting crime under the nose of the Hero Public Safety Commission.
Some got reformed as Heroes, sure, take The Crawler for example, but others got a much worse treatment. The Commission could be extremely brutal when it came to quirks. The worse quirk you had as a hero or a vigilante, the worse your luck seemed to be. There was a reason such prejudice existed in the hero industry after all.
Shouta rolled his eyes. Strong, flash quirks = good, while less physically visible, unconventional, or mental ability quirks, no matter how powerful = bad. It was honestly sickening. What a joke.
But still…
“It’s not just because of that, Zashi. These are kids! Nedzu has gone too far this time. And of course, All Might has something to do with it. Did you see the way he looked in the meeting?” He brought his fingers to his temples, rubbing them. He was annoyed, angry, and tired. What a good combination.
His husband handed him the cup of coffee and kissed him on the forehead. “Yes, I did see how Toshinori looked in that meeting. Just as surprised as the rest of us. Cut the man some slack, Shou. If you think it’s dangerous or immoral, we can vote against it. Nemuri said she was still on the fence about it as well, but was leaning towards no.”
Shouta sighed. “I know. But Zashi, what about the other children, you know, the ones I’m directly responsible for? I should be taking every measure to ensure their safety, especially after what happened last week, even if it means compromising my own morals. That’s what I signed up for when I became a teacher.”
Hizashi shook his head. “You’re right, kind of. You are directly responsible for class 1A, but I don’t see Nedzu doing anything to seriously endanger a group of kiddos, do you? The guy may be manipulative and quite the schemer, but he still has a good moral compass. He wouldn’t be raising the next generation of heroes if he didn’t. I don’t think you would be compromising your beliefs by agreeing to this. Our boss isn’t the kind of being who pushes his employees into that kind of situation.”
“I guess that's true, huh?” Shouta scrubbed a hand over his wrapped face, careful not to disturb any of his still-healing wounds. “As much as I want to say no, the rat probably knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I’ll support your decision.” Hizashi smiled and ruffled his husband's hair.
Shouta gave him a grateful, yet uneasy look.
“Thank you, Zashi.”
How should he go about this?
__________
A few days later, the entire staff met on a Monday afternoon in the U.A. faculty lounge to take a final vote.
Nedzu stared down at the list so far.
Principal Nedzu: Yes.
Hound Dog: No.
Lunch Rush: Yes.
Recovery Girl: No.
Thirteen: Yes.
Cementoss: No.
Vlad King: No.
Ectoplasm: Yes.
Power Loader: No.
Midnight: No.
Eraserhead:
Present Mic:
All Might:
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit nervous, though he would never in a million years let it show.
It wouldn’t be the end of the world (hopefully) if this proposal didn't get approved, but it would make things significantly harder for him in the long run. Nedzu had a backup plan as always, but he felt like this was the right thing to do. Ever since he had heard about a certain vigilante’s arrest almost a year ago, Nedzu had begun drafting this initiative and researching its possible participants.
Not only did it double as a reformation program, but also as an investigative team! It was simply too useful to pass up.
“Ok, Aizawa,” Nedzu said calmly. “What’s your vote?” The Hero had a firm and determined look in his eyes behind his mummy bandages. “Can you absolutely ensure the safety of my students with these vigilantes on the loose?” He asked the principal.
Nedzu nodded. “I can absolutely ensure it.”
“And you can ensure the safety of said vigilantes as well?”
“Completely. Your vote?”
“I vote yes,” Eraserhead grumbled, crossing his arm under the broken one and leaning back into his chair.
The principal couldn’t help but smile a little as he scratched the word onto Eraserhead’s slot. “Present Mic?”
“I’m with Eraser on this one. I also vote yes.” Present Mic said, giving one short nod. “Although I’m curious how you got to the point of bringing children into this mystery initiative and, in turn, the case.”
The principal chuckled lightheartedly. “Children were always part of the initiative. It's like I said a few days ago! It would be foolish to underestimate them just based on age or appearance. I am a walking example of that!”
Present Mic shrugged before looking back down at his file. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Ok, if All Might votes no, it would be a tie, but considering the No. 1 hero himself had permitted him to go along with this plan in order to defeat his old enemy, Nedzu saw that as unlikely.
Still, he knew better than to get cocky.
“All Might?” Nedzu asked. The skeletal man in question was sweating bricks.
“I- Uhm, I- I believe it would be best if we approved the program. If you know who is involved, that is.” He stuttered. Nedzu often found it ironic that All Might, one of the most powerful people on the planet, was this timid behind closed curtains. The man sure knew how to keep humble.
Nedzu nodded.
“Ok, perfect, the vote has been ruled in favor of the program!”
“This is going to crash and burn faster than it takes Eraser to expel his entire class,” Mic joked, but Nedzu paid no mind to his words.
After all, he had to focus on putting his plan into motion.
“Now that we have staff voting out of the way, we still need to gain the approval of the Japanese Government and Hero Commission.”
__________
“Absolutely not.” Madam President shook her head as she tossed away the file Nedzu had placed in front of her a minute before.
“The Hero Public Safety Commission will not allow such a risky project. Especially not one with that one involved.” She hissed. Nedzu took a sip of his tea and gave her his sweetest smile.
Madam narrowed her grey eyes in suspicion and smoothed down her already gelled hair.
She was well known for being very quirkiest towards people with lesser or nonexistent powers. In her book, physical power was almost everything. So naturally, when Japan’s most elusive vigilante, who managed not only to best the government many times but also steal information from the Commission itself, turned out to be quirkless, she was to say… for lack of better words, a little bit of a sore loser, or winner he supposed. If it could be said that the Commission had won at all.
“I understand why you would be hesitant to agree to this, but let me assure you that he is a crucial player in locating and apprehending The League of Villains and nipping this quickly growing problem in the bud.”
It pissed Nedzu off more than he dare say that the reason Madam President was rejecting his offer probably had to do more with the quirks (or lack thereof) of the members involved than it did with child endangerment. She didn’t even bother to argue the fact that it could be dangerous for them, like Aizawa had. She could hide all she wanted under thinly veiled excuses, but nothing made Nedzu’s blood boil like quirkism.
She gave him an unimpressed look. “A teenager is the best shot we have at taking down a budding villain group?” She asked. Nedzu nodded. “Several teenagers. Who all managed to elude the government and the Commission for at least several months.” He added helpfully.
She shot him a glare. “I simply cannot allow this, Principal Nedzu. It's too dangerous to let villains like them walk free.” Nedzu sighed.
“These vigilantes will constantly be under the watchful eye of the best staff members U.A.’s has to offer, as well as myself, Madam.”
He picked up the file from the desk and opened it, revealing a long list of records. “They will be supervised by The Country- No, The World's Top Hero School.”
Nedzu’s smile widened into something a bit less forced. He had been a little bit cheeky to Madam in this meeting so far, perhaps a well-placed ego stroke would do the trick. “This is considered government service, which means, as the leader of the most prominent branch of government that supervises all affairs that have to do with heroism, you have to consent to the program before this plan can be put into motion. I ask you to weigh your options thoroughly before you decline.”
She tsked, looking away to the side and tapping her fingers on the desk. “I will think about it.”
Perfect.
“Thank you for considering this, Madam! I am personally sticking my neck out for this project, so I will take any of the responsibility if things go south.” She nodded curtly and got a vicious, yet gleeful look in her eyes.
“I will see to it that you do. You are dismissed, Principal Nedzu.”
He stood from his seat and bowed. “Of course. I will leave this file with you. I have many copies.”
He exited the room, and Madam, now alone, glared down at the booklet. More specifically, the bold, dark letters that were written neatly in the top corner with a marker.
The Vigilante Initiative: Current Members: 3.
__________
If someone were to ask Izuku Midoriya how he was doing just about now, he would say that he was “peachy”. He was, in fact, very much not “peachy”. Unnerved out of his mind was what he was.
Being carted away by two mystery soldiers was not fun. It was quite concerning, actually. He spent the last year (had it been a year already?) in Tartarus, the prison most suited for those big, bad villains with extra strong quirks, or extra evil personalities, and he had expected to stay a lot longer before something like this happened.
Don’t ask him how he wound up in Japan’s most high-security prison. He had been promised a fair trial. Heck! There had even been talk of a vigilante reformation program if he cooperated with his capture. But when they found out he was quirkless… it became quite apparent that neither of those things was ever going to happen. People like him didn’t get fair trials. Which is why he was the opposite of peachy right now. It was far more likely he was about to face an executioner rather than a judge.
They tied a black blindfold around his face, so he couldn’t see a thing as they moved him through the winding, never-ending halls of the prison.
Izuku didn’t dare utter a word; that had never really been his thing as a vigilante. Besides, he didn’t want to send the whole prison into lockdown because of a question he might ask with his oh so terrifying pre-pubescent voice. Instead, he listened. All around him, people he assumed to be guards were murmuring different code words into radios, like “Cronos No. 64 headed towards Carport 8,” while static noises switched on and off in an unsynchronized fashion in the background. The hell did that even mean? Was he Cronos? That would have been a badass alternative to his chosen vigilante name.
Other than that, it was eerily quiet, with only soft voices barely louder than a whisper and the sound of footsteps on hard, cool concrete to fill the dead silence. After what felt like an eternity, a door opened, and he was hit with an overwhelming smell of seawater.
He took a moment to relish in the warm spring air, knowing full well it might be years before he felt it again, and then he was thrust headfirst into the back of a truck. Someone worked rather aggressively to tie some kind of restraints around his chest and arms. They were uncomfortably tight. It almost made him scoff. What was he going to do?!
Well…
Seven, maybe eight guards hopped into the truck and sat down, sandwiching him between their muscular figures. The door to the truck closed with a thud, and the vehicle sped down the road.
Over time, the smooth paved asphalt, which Izuku guessed to be the bridge leading out of Tartarus, melted into a more worn road. After enough twists and turns to give him whiplash and motion sickness, the truck came to a screeching stop.
The doors burst open, and Izuku was whisked into a different building. Presumably a prison, or perhaps a mental asylum. It smelled clean, bleach clean, and he could hear murmurs behind closed doors.
“Whoa, what are Titans doing here?” A deep male voice asked. Izuku tilted his head slightly at the statement. They were talking about the group escorting him. Of course, by ‘Titans’ they meant guards from Tartarus. Izuku knew that much.
“Yeah,” An equally deep, female voice replied. “And who’s the kid?”
“Dunno. Must be dangerous though if he’s stuck in that hell hole.” The other guy said. He latched onto the conversation like a lifeline, hoping they would say something useful or drop any kind of hint about where he was. “Ya, I mean…” Their talk slowly faded away as he was forced to walk on.
Izuku cursed under his breath. Damn it. He thought. The hallways here weren't nearly as twisty as Tartarus’s tunnels, so at least Izuku could backtrack to the exit if needed, though he doubted that would be possible. He took a deep breath and squirmed a little in his overly tight restraints. There was no getting out of this one.
Finally, they stopped, and Izuku heard the swipe of a card and a beep of an electric lock coming undone. A door slid open, and a singular guard pushed Izuku forward inside.
He felt a calloused hand pull off his blindfold and was momentarily disoriented by a sickeningly white interrogation room with nothing in it but a table, two chairs, and a no-doubt one-way mirror mounted to the wall. “Take a seat at the table.” The guard instructed. Izuku obliged as the door slammed shut behind him.
He stared into the mirror on his left. Who was behind the mirror? Cops? Heroes? A representative of the Commission? Perhaps even Madam President herself, if she felt like gracing him with her wonderful presence, that is. More importantly, what did they want with him? To torture info out of him, to execute him? To actually put him on trial? Izuku snorted at the last one. Ya right.
Perhaps to keep a closer eye on him? No, that wouldn’t make any sense. Izuku was already in the most secure prison in the world, and if they simply wanted to monitor Izuku more closely, they could have just left him back in Tartarus. Izuku eyed the camera in the corner of the integration room, most likely put there for that express reason.
There was a beep, and the door slid open once again from behind him. A pitter-patter sound of tiny footsteps made Izuku turn around, well, the best he could in these God awful restraints anyway. A mouse-like creature met his gaze with a smile, which Izuku supposed was meant to be sweet, but just looked creepy. “Hello, Izuku Midoriya. Or should I call you Ronin?” Said Nedzu, the Principal of U.A., making his way around the table to take the seat across from Izuku.
Izuku’s face turned from a mild scowl into a grin.
“I’m so thrilled to finally meet you!” He steepled his fingers. No, wait… paws? “I assume you know who I am?”