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Izuku's anxiety was having an absolute field day. His entire body was vibrating, unable to stay still, leg bouncing up and down of it's own accord. He was even too out of it to stop the frequent biting of his lip, a habit he'd tried over and over again to break. His body jerked as a shiver wrenched it's way down his spine and settled there.
Izuku is unable to stop himself as his thoughts entertain a whole new peak of terrifying.
What if... He had... Had he...?
Izuku's breath comes in short pants, unable to keep air in his lungs with the anxiousness restricting them. He feels like he isn't getting enough air in his lungs like he cant breathe- and for once he isn't muttering his usual observations under his breath, too preoccupied just trying to breathe.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit!Was he having a panic attack?
He was having a panic attack.
If he'd had air in his lungs, Izuku would have laughed hysterically. The kind of laugh that isn't really a laugh at all but a cry for help. The kind of laugh he'd laughed after his bullies left him to rot half dead in some alleyway. Of all the inconvenient times to break down! Why was this his breaking point?"Hey, kid..." A voice. Something he could attach himself to. The voice breaks through his stupor. "Count with me to ten, one, two, that's it-" Izuku mentally counted along with the voice as he allowed it to help himself calm down. Soon a majority of his panic had subsided but he was still high strung in the aftermath of such a panicked state.
At least he was no longer hyperventilating over the body of the criminal laying at his feet.
He hadn't meant to do it. Really. He'd just been trying to get home without facing his bullies which happened to be putting his miniscule parkour skills to the test by leaping from building to building.
Well, until he'd accidentally slipped off the edge of a particularly slippery rooftop and plummeted down to what he'd assumed had been his death until his fall was cushioned by the villain underneath him, crumpling the villain in the process.
He really hadn't intended for it to happen.
"Holy hell." Izuku mumbles under his breath, limbs trembling with trepidation. Adrenaline still flocking his veins with it's hum.
"I called the police so they should be on their way to pick up this scumbag." The woman he'd accidentally saved nudged the unconscious man harshly with her heel. "Don't feel guilty about knocking him out kid. Piece of shit got what was coming to him and you saved me."
It was almost like she had a mind quirk that let her read emotions, but Izuku knew from experience that it wasn't a smart idea to jump to conclusions on one's quirk being quirkless himself. The woman steps away from the man and places a hand on Izuku's back soothingly. Izuku tried his best not to flinch back at the contact but isn't completely successful if the small frown playing on the woman's face from the corner of his eyes is an indicator.
Ironic that she was now comforting him when only a few minutes ago she had been the victim of the villain's attack herself.
But Izuku didn't focus on that. All he could hear were her last few words reverberating around his skull like some sort of sick mantra. He'd saved her? But he hadn't really done much of anything. Plus he'd already given up on his dreams of ever being a hero the previous year when he and his mom had been attacked and she'd died because he tried to play hero.
His ears must have been playing tricks on him.
The sound of police sirens was almost drowned out by the ringing in his own ears and the spiral he was mentally trying not to go down. His true breakdown could wait until he was home, safe and in the comfort of his own room.
Izuku was slightly disassociating as the police officers scolded him. His thoughts rocketing around like balloons loosing their helium before gaining momentum again. He walks the rest of the way home in a daze.
He hadn't meant to dropkick the man from three stories up but here they were. And somehow he wasn't any worse for the wear. It sparked inspiration in an idea he'd thought long since died.
Izuku milled over his thoughts a lot that night, throwing concepts and ideas back and forth, too giddy about his heroism to realize the implications of those thoughts fully.
"A hero?" The thought is muttered out loud in the darkness of Izuku's room as he scrolls through forum upon forum of quirk usage and analysis. The forum was somewhere he could come to think, to quiet his mind with a task to focus on. Occasionally he would post his opinions, when people asked for them. By no means was he a professional, but after years of studying quirks he was quite proficient in reading them. "Not a legal one. Still no school's that'll accept a quirkless student."
Izuku takes a sip of water as a post catches his eyes and he clicks on it. His eyes widen with intrigue, mind quirks were rare, especially those who could affect other people. A brainwashing quirk had a lot of implications for the heroic line of work. Oh! Izuku could already imagine all the good they could do with that quirk. He was practically bursting at the seams as he DMed the asker a reply.
He never posted his replies on the forum, too risky. There was a lot that could go wrong with that which is why he'd never personally publicized his own quirk status. There were too many quirk and more specifically quirkless trafficking rings for Izuku to feel comfortable doing so. There were some sick people out there in the world. Plus, if they actually decided to go into heroics and a villain happened upon their long-forgotten quirk post it would be catastrophic to the hero.Besides if they used their quirk for bad… Well the idea couldn’t technically be traced back to him unless they combed through all of their records which would take significantly more time than a simple search engine search.
While Izuku isn't overly concerned with the morality of quirks he firmly believes that it's the person that makes the quirk heroic or villainous and not the quirk itself. The statistics of quirks being marked as villainous and actually being used for villanious is only as high as it is because of the pressures society has put upon them.
UrLocalAnalyst: 'I think it's a perfect quirk for heroics!'Izuku starts with a cherry note, knowing full and well the statistics of quirks relating to the mind being called villainous. The asker probably wasn't all that different from Izuku in the first place and had turned to the internet for reassurance in their quirk. Well, that was Izuku's theory for why most people posted on this particular quirk forum anyways.
Izuku willfully ignores the other statistics that chime in at the back of his head. The ones about the quirkless community. The statistics that show that Izuku will probably be dead before he graduates high school. In a society where quirks are everything, you either succumbed to societies cruelties or were violently culled in a hate crime.UrLocalAnalyst: 'You could do so much good with a quirk like yours. Imagine all the villains you could stop before they actually became a problem! Or removing civilians from the scene calmly and without panic, crowd control is fundamental to heroics. You'd probably have to operate either as a rescue hero or an underground hero though depending on how your quirk works. But plenty of underground and rescue heroes do plenty of good! Look at Eraserhead for example, he has a non-combative quirk and he’s an extremely efficient hero!'Izuku ends himself there and clicks send before he can second guess his response.
Izuku's computer dings as the user responds. He jumps almost surprised by the sound. It was nearly 5am, anyone who was up at this hour was probably like Izuku and sleep forsakes them.
SleeplessCatLover: ‘do u really think so?’Izuku would bet that this was the first time the poster had ever been reassured that he could be a hero. Otherwise he wouldn’t feel the need to post on these forums.UrLocalAnalyst: ‘Of course!’Izuku replies chipper, fingers dashing along his keyboard with fervor.UrLocalAnalyst: ‘Quirks can’t be quantified by morals because all quirks can be used for evil if the wrong person wields them. If a person with a quirk that breaks bones uses it on a villain then they’re a hero, but if that same person uses that quirks on civilians or other heroes they’re a villain. It’s the same quirk objectively, but the person using it dictates if it’s used for good or evil.’Izuku feels like that’s a sufficient explanation. For all the progression society has incurred, it also seemed to create more areas of unjust treatment. The morality of quirks is something Izuku feels passionately about. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have a quirk that his opinion on the matter is purely factual, but he had seen both sides of the same coin.SleepyCatLover: '…thanks'SleepyCatLover: 'ig i just needed the reassurance that it was possible'Izuku is positively radiant that night as he goes to sleep. Even if he wasn’t actively helping society on a large scale, it was nice to know that he could help random strangers across the internet and be a source of comfort.
Hours later Izuku wakes abruptly with an inkling of a thought that sends him lunging for his notebook and he writes with a half awake flurry. An idea that would no doubt spitball into chaos and mayhem. A wide almost feral grin overtakes his face.If he can’t legally be a hero… Nothing was stopping him from being a vigilante instead.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
That very morning, Izuku decided to go shopping. Normally this was something he would have done with his mom so he hadn't gone since her death, but if he was serious about this there were some things that he would need that he didn't have at home. He'd been thinking all night, forming a list in his mind of all the materials he'd need. Eventually he settled on a simple checklist.
1. Gear
First he would have to acquire gear. This would undoubtedly be the hardest part of this task and was easier said than done. He would have preferred some kind of reinforced clothing, but that material was mainly reserved for heroes in order to put a damper on villain and vigilante activity. Izuku is sure he can find a work around though, he is a pro at finding the loopholes in things at this point.
Most of the things on his list could be found at a regular clothing store but there were a few items that he would have to special order, like his shoes. His shoes were his biggest worry when it came to gear, they were the thing most likely to give him away. All quirkless shoes were that gaudy red that signaled them out to the entire world as quirkless. Izuku doesn't want to attempt vigilantism without the assumption that he could have a quirk. There were an alarmingly low amount of quirkless kids in his age group, he'd be found out right away if he didnt at least attempt to conceal his lack of a quirk.
And wedges. He would need shoes with wedges. They would probably take some getting used to, but Izuku would prefer if people didn’t know his real height. If he was going to create this identity, then he was going to do it right.But on the bright side, maybe he could convince the maker to leave their brand off of them. Or perhaps that in itself would be suspicious. Izuku would probably have to alter those too. There was nothing wrong with being too careful in a society that loathes your existence. He had even dyed his current pair of shoes black to hide the blaring bright red that announced him as quirkless to anyone passing by.Izuku isn't completely sure where to start in the overwelming amount of stores at the mall but decides to start at a basic clothing store that he'd been to his mom with before she died. Izuku is eager to start looking at clothes. It's been a while since he's bought something for himself, even if this was for slightly illegal reasons. But hey, technically the laws that applied to vigilantes and villains didn't apply to quirkless people which was a gross oversight that worked in his favor. Both of those were defined as using his quirk, which he didn't have.
Izuku had them memorized by heart and could recite any number of laws to bypass a situation altogether. Honestly it was child play when all society cared about were those with quirks.As he browses through the sections of clothes he looks specifically for dark and non-descript clothes that wouldn't give him away. Generic sweatshirts and pants were okay, but anything that couldn't be generic was more likely to be traced back to him. If he wanted anything additional on the clothes, he would just have to sew it on himself.Izuku sticks to main brands as he picks out several black and grey sweatshirts, undershirts, and cargo pants. He already has an idea as to how he wants to alter them to make his persona. This was like creating a cosplay, except far more dangerous. Izuku had made plenty of cosplays with his mom, some for fun and some to see if he could replicate a very specific detail of a hero's costume, like their support gear. He'd succeeded in some fronts but others not so much. He did learn how to sew though and could hem almost any tear with ease and alter the clothes to fit a specific way.
For now though, he was aiming for something simple but would be recognizable as his persona. He'd have time to refine his costumes as issues arose or if he gained new ideas on it. Izuku is sure that there are some factors that he just wont think to consider until he's already on patrol, or pieces that would be clunky. He would definitely have to have a trial run of his outfit before he considered trying to fight in it.
There was another reason for the dark colors too. Izuku was known for wearing brightly colored t-shirts outside of his school uniform. People expected him to wear these colors as naturally as they knew to expect his quirklessness, it was just a part of his style. by wearing dark clothing he was effectively masking himself in a way that wouldn't be obvious unless you were looking for it.
He picks up a red turtleneck as the undershirt, a pair of dark grey cargo pants, and a deep red backpack that would fit snuggly on his back. He had carefully picked one that all tags and identification could be removed from easily after studying their stitching. Izuku would reinforce the insides with something and doctor it up a bit but it would serve his purposes well.By the time Izuku went up to pay for his stuff, he had picked up several turtlenecks of different colors in addition to his other stuff. Mostly muted reds, greys, and blacks, but he did cave on a forest green turtleneck. Hopefully the layers would help to conceal him and his gender.
Izuku lugged his clothes home on the train and deposited them at home before heading out again. There was no point in traveling around with bags of clothes where he was going.
2. WeaponsWhat kind of weapons were best suited to a small quirkless child? Izuku had run this question through his mind hundreds of times throughout the night. Theoretically, any of the ancient weapons were available to him but some of them were too clunky to realistically carry around for extended periods of time.
He'd considered just using his mother's old kitchen knives, but after testing them in his three am haze he'd deemed them too fimsy to survive a real encounter with a villain or a hero for that matter. If worst came to worst he could use them in a pinch, but they weren't ideal for facing off against foes.He'd instead decided to visit the local military supply store. Hopefully they would have some insight onto what weapon would suit him best for 'self defense'. Maybe he could even con some classes out of someone who worked there, that would be ideal. But if not it wouldn't be the first time that he'd completely taught himself how to do something. He could learn, he would
learn.
He'd need something for close range and something for far range.
Izuku was feeling rather calm, all things considered as he opened the door to the supply store. His freak out yesterday had been an accumulation of a lack of sleep and the pure absurdity of the situation. Usually he was way more collected than that. He'd just been having a bad day that day.
"Hello." Izuku greats the cashier with a shy smile and a wave. Her eyes soften as he passes the threshold of the store. If this plan had been a few hundred years ago he wouldn't have been able to walk into a store like this unless he was eighteen. But those were pre-quirk laws and most pre-quirk laws had been tossed out the window in the anarchy that followed the development of the quirked society. Weapons had become second nature in society after the manifestation of quirks. "I'm looking for a good self defense weapon, do you have any recommendations?"
Izuku makes sure to keep the request as vague as possible. It was likely the cashier would unknowingly direct him to the most frequently bought weapon sets, which would good for him in case he lost one and had to replace it or the police or heroes somehow got ahold of one.The cashier, who seemed to have a small mutation quirk hummed, putting a hand on her hip and another on her chin.
"You're pretty small. I'd say either a knife or a taser. Follow me and I'll show you our selection!"
As the cashier walked and talked explaining the various knife and taser sets and what they could be used for, he observed the different sets. Some of them he had seen for sale online when he initially committed his search at home. They would probably be the best ones to go for. They were relatively cheap and well, Izuku wasn’t 100% sure he was going to stick with knives or tasers anyways. It would probably be best for him to alternate between weapons so that he doesn’t become too predictable, but a good set of knives would be a good start.
Izuku settles on purchasing a set of knives with black blades and blood red handles that would blend in well with the backpack he'd bought earlier that day. It'd be much easier to conceal weapons that were of the same color as his gear. He also got a small taser for in case of emergencies but decided that he probably wouldn't use it unless he had to.
The final weapon and perhaps the biggest purchase of the night was a sixty pound compound bow and some arrows. He wasn't expecting to be able to use it right away but it was a good goal to work towards physically. Bows were also something that wouldn't make as much sound as a gun or another far ranged weapon would. Plus he could potentially modify the arrows to further suit his needs as they arose.
As he checks out from the supply store with the nice clerk a sudden wave of tiredness hits him hard. A yawn escapes his lips and he decides to head home for the day. Izuku has enough for a decent start in his training for the time being. He now has two new weapons to master and experiment with. He can think more about the rest of his gear another day when he hasn't been up all night scrolling forums.
The walk back home is quick and before he knows it, Izuku finds himself outside of his one-bedroom apartment complex that his dad had agreed to pay for so that he doesn't have to spend his mom's life insurance money on it. He'd practically been forced to move after she died, unable to stay in the same house where she had been and his dad had demanded he either come live with him in America or downsize to a smaller apartment for financial reasons. He'd sold a lot of his hero memorabilia and ended up with a lot of pocket money. Money that was now being funneled into his vigilante career.
His apartment is quiet and he almost calls out to his mom before he remembers that she wouldn't respond.
Izuku settles into his room, putting his newly aquired gear away in the drawers beside his bed. He hums to himself as he trails scared fingers over the shelves upon shelves of notebooks that he'd filled over the years. He could easily funnel the same energy that he'd put into these into learning a fighting style that fit himself. He'd been studying fighting styles for years at this point.
Maybe all of his so called 'useless' notebooks would finally come in handy. Just thinking about Aldera made Izuku feel sick to his stomach. He would never be allowed to be a hero through professional channels because he didn't have a quirk but his bully would be a hero. Izuku didn't doubt for a second that Katsuki wouldn't succeed in the hero course at UA but it rubbed him wrong that someone who would suicide bait someone would become a hero.
Thankfully, since his mom died and he moved apartments, his dad had allowed him to enroll in online schooling. Before, his mom had been the reason he was physically kept in school. She had wanted him to have friends and had thought he did.
Izuku was a damn good liar at times. Even when he came home covered in bruises and with his school supplies missing from his backpack.
Idly he plucks one from the shelves and begins to thumb through the pages. Quite a few of his older analyses were decent, some had obvious holes that he could see now that he was a little older, but that had been part of the learning process. You have to try and fail a few times in the process of learning something new in order to get better at it. This one was from around when he was nine or ten. Now he was fourteen, four years wiser. Of course his analysis from now would be better than they would be back then.
Maybe he would start new notebooks. Rework all of his old analyses. Color code the journals so that he could easily differentiate the old from the new. Izuku's forest green hair shadows his viridian eyes as he replaces the notebook back on the shelf and shuffles over to the computer, flicking on the monitor.
This was the same computer that he'd had since he was four. Mom hadn't wanted his quirklessness to keep him from learning about the world around him or being scared of it.
Absently, Izuku opens the forums again. It's habitual to scroll the forums when he's lost in thought again.
3. Code namesWhat would he call himself? He'd been called many names throughout his life, none of which were good for a hero. 'Useless', 'Null', 'Deku'. Those were all insults made to bring him down. By design they were negative. He needs something unassuming. Izuku had read somewhere before about cognitive biases, if he presented as a threat he'd be seen as a threat. But likewise, if he presented as something small and unassuming he'd be less of a priority, theoretically.
Izuku reads the forums in the dim light of the room. One forum after another. He's thinking as he reads, scrolling for ideas.Something small. Maybe unassuming.
His mother had often called him a little bunny for the way he ate his food. A Cottontail.
Izuku pauses in his scrolling, backtracking to that thought. Was it really that simple? Could it be that simple? It could be that simple. If one of his reasons for starting this was the death of his mother, than why not use a nickname she gave to him, one that holds no negative connotations to him?
If he had been going unconventional routes to be a hero, shouldn’t his name reflect that? Bunnies were often small and unassuming. His vigilante moniker would need to throw off opponents and cause them to underestimate him. Izuku will take any advantage he can get in an unfair society.But in a way, wasn’t it perfect to describe him? He may be meek because of his quirklessness but he wasn’t completely defenseless.Izuku has ways."Cottontail." Izuku tests out the name on his tongue. It sounds right. And it's not something that could be traced back to him easily.
"I am Cottontail." Izuku corrects, a sly smile overtaking his face. "A harmless little vigilante."
Izuku isn't to know it yet, of course, but in the darkness of his room the mantle of something great is born. The mantle that would shake the hero society to it's core is born.
He is Cottontail.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Huffing and struggling to breathe, Izuku swears that he'll never move again. His body too sore for much movement.
Izuku may or may not have gone overboard in his first day of training.
To be fair, he had just been so
excited
to be working towards something again that he'd forgotten that his body was weak and that he should probably start slow before building up to more strenuous activities.
- - - - - - -
Standing in front of the full length mirror, it's all Izuku can do to not gawk at himself. Was the person in the mirror really him? Since when had he stood so confidently?
Since when had he grown those muscles?
The person standing in the mirror was nothing like that orphaned kid from months ago.
Izuku is all but preening as he takes in his costume in full. He'd spent weeks tweaking the costume after getting the initial materials for it and it was finally complete.
Today marks the first day of his test run. He had spent the last few weeks perfecting his idea and tweaking his costume, running over logistics and religiously working out to buff up a little bit before tackling the underworld.
Today is a big day. This is the day of his test run.
This repeats over and over in his head until he’s nearly spiraling with anxieties.
He had made quite a few key decisions, such as deciding to operate at night when it was less likely for a mainstream hero to spot him and attack him. For some heroes like Endeavor, vigilantes such as him were indiscriminate from villains. Izuku shivered at the idea of ever coming across the flame hero in a combat setting.
Meanwhile, there was a higher chance that he could convince the underground heroes to not actively hunt him.
Keyword being ‘chance’.
Izuku’s eyes skim his form again giving himself another once over before he decides to just bite the bullet and start his route. His anxieties about this were not unfounded, but they were definitely amplified by his constant anxious state of being.
He looked kick ass if he was being honest with himself. His distressed black hoodie had been cropped and layered with the red turtleneck, which paired nicely with the dark grey cargo pants and black buckled platform boots. A belt looped around his feminine hips holds some of his knives and his red backpack lays flat on his back. Izuku likes the color red. He had also attached floppy red and black bunny ears to his hoodie for effect. His choice to go with a more ambiguous outfit would definitely pay off in the long run.
In Izuku’s opinion the more he could disguise about himself the better.
Izuku slips the gas mask over his face and throws his hood up, looking for the first time not like some wayward quirkless kid playing hero, but a real vigilante. He only hopes he doesn’t royally screw this up.
It takes the better part of an hour for Cottontail to run into his first incident: a mugging.
At first Izuku doesn’t realize anything is wrong, until he hears the faint sounds of whimpering hit his ears and the low voice of a threat carries in the winds. Izuku takes a split second to assess the situation before diving headfirst into it.
Physical mutation quirk. Looks to be a shark? Izuku will have to watch those teeth and for enhanced strength. Might have an extra tough hide, but would most likely have a soft underbelly assuming it was consistent with shark anatomy.
Izuku slashes with his knife, his movements clunky against a real target. Already mid fight he was seeing things he needs to improve but the best teacher is experience. But facing a real target puts his training into real perspective. He had foreseen this outcome, prepared for it.
The mugger stumbles back, not expecting any interference, especially not from some androgynous looking figure in a gas mask.
And luckily for him, this criminal was just as juvenile in his craft as Izuku was. A lucky hit to the temple with the hilt of his knife and the shark man was out for the count, sprawled uncomfortably on the grimy alleyway. Izuku steps back from the criminal and releases the breath he had been holding, adrenaline pumping fiercely through his veins.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” The woman cried as he returned her purse to her.
It was then, after the criminal was defeated and the muggie was returned their stuff that Izuku noticed his first major problem.
“Uh do you have anything to restrain him with until the police get here? I sort of… Forgot.” Yes, in all of Izuku’s logistic planning in preparation he had neglected one minor detail. The woman stared at Izuku with a shocked expression.
“Are you not a hero?” The woman seems defensive at the notion that she had been helped by anything other than a hero and honestly, Izuku hadn’t even anticipated that some people would have this reaction. He had figured that most people would just be glad that they weren’t dead but apparently being saved by a hero held novelty over life.
What in the fucked up society.
"No.” Izuku’s gas mask muffles his voice, distorting it into something deeper as he strips the shark man of his shirt and cuts into it with a knife, using the strips to plaster the man’s arms together in tight knots. That would have to work for now.
“I-I’m calling the police.” The woman says, voice shaking. Izuku can’t exactly phantom why. “Illegal vigilantes like you shouldn’t be on the streets. Y-you sit tight till the police get here to pick both of you degenerates up.”
Ah, Izuku understands now. Of course, the hero society has purists.
“Cool. I’m not sticking around though.” The woman reaches out to grab Izuku’s arm, phone in one hand. He yanks his arm away and dances out of her reach. Honestly, Izuku has half a mind to quit right then and there.
“And it’s Cottontail, not degenerate.”
And for the second time in his life, Izuku leaves a stunned woman in an alleyway and flees the scene. He stops a few other minor crimes throughout the night, being careful to avoid heroes and drawn-out conversations. He had realized after that first interaction that there wasn’t much use saying anything other than a ‘You okay? Good.’ And go along on his merry way.
His first crime would also stay with him for the rest of the night, even after he returns to an empty home with new ideas and concepts to research.
The night had been… Rather lackluster if he was being honest. Yes, he had been expecting some resistance but he hadn’t expected a full out hero purist. He decides to do research into them into the wee hours of the morning, eyebags heavy and insomnia kicking.
Apparently, there was a bigger sect of society that believed in these ideals than he had originally been led to believe by his base level scrolling on the topic. Now he knew that even among hero purists, they still looked down upon their nose at anyone who didn’t make it into the double-digit rankings which, come on, what does it matter when they save people all the same? Heroes like All Might, Endeavor and Hawks were held in the highest esteem by these purists because they were the cream of the crop, the highest ranks of heroes.
Apparently, this vigilante business would be even more difficult than he thought it would be.
Izuku rubs the bridge of his nose before dragging a new notebook out of his recently acquired stash. He labels it ‘Dredges of Society’. If he has to learn more about the people who will most vehemently oppose his vigilantism he may as well be petty about it.
He works on his new notebook far into the night until he can see the sun rising from between the curtains of his window. Muttering up a storm has never come easier to him as he learns and learns and learns.
Eventually he forces himself to take a break from the absolutely depressing ‘Dredges of Society’ and scrolls on the forums instead. He knows he should sleep after the busy night he’s had but he’s too wired about his experiences and too sleepless to go to sleep.
But then a soft ding notifies him that he has a DM.
SleepyCatLover: …u were right. i looked into underground heroes and they are cool
SleepyCatLover: also wtf dude, do u live online? i asked around the forum about u and apparently ur chronically online lol
UrLocalAnalyst: …Insomnia’s a bitch.
SleepyCatLover: dont i know it
UrLocalAnalyst: And I’m not chronically online, I just like surfing quirk and hero forums, that’s all.
SleepyCatLover: mhm, somehow dont believe u
Izuku doesn’t deign that with an answer. Instead he decides to finally try and go to sleep. What was up with people questioning him today?? Izuku secretly hopes a long nap will give him all the answers he needs.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next time Izuku goes on a patrol, things go considerably smoother. For one, he now has a mish mash collection of zip ties, curtesy of the local hardware store, to tie up criminals with. And now, armed with knowledge, Izuku feels so much better about the world he’s stepping into.
Or, he would have felt better if he hadn’t immediately stumbled upon a murder scene less than three hours in. But to his defense, he didn’t scream or puke at the sight of all that blood.
“Fake heroes.” The killer monologues to himself. Izuku skirts on the edge of the alleyway quietly. “I must purge society of fake heroes.”
Izuku's grip slips from his hold on the fire escape and falls in front of the Hero killer Stain. This is it. Today he's finally going to die, Izuku thinks as he lands painfully on his ass. Even as he lands he can't help the comment that leaves his lips. Izuku the wonderful little smart ass he is and has no sense of self preservation, can’t help but argue with Stain. It’s his inner UrLocalAnalyst bubbling to the surface at the least opportune times.
“Can you really quantify fake versus real heroes?” Izuku, fourteen and barely lived his life, essentially signs his death wish.
The presence swirls around on him, baring down with his blades. Izuku barely whips his knife out in time for a weak parry.
“Who are you.”
“Cottontail.” Izuku squeaks out.
“Tell me Cottontail,” the villain starts, still pressing down on Izuku with the weight of a grown man. Izuku’s footing stumbles and he slips backwards. The second time he's slipped in less than a minute mind you. There's a blade at his throat. Ruefully, Izuku thinks that his vigilantism had been short lived if he was going to die. But the man doesn’t plunge the blade. “Would you bet your life on those words?”
Izuku’s brain sputtered.
“Uh yeah?” and so began his ramble. “To quantify if heroes are good or bad, you’d have to consider a few things. Firstly, how much collateral do they leave behind? How many are left dead in their wake? If they minimize those things, because death is inevitable in this society, then are they theoretically good even if they don’t have a good reason to be a hero? Alternatively, if someone has a good reason to be a hero but little regard to the collateral left behind, would they be a bad hero?”
Stain stares this little pipsqueak down, considering the words being spoken to him. Obviously, this kid wasn’t a hero. So he didn’t have to kill him. Plus what he was speaking about kind of made sense. Before this point Stain had almost exclusively quantified if a hero was good or bad based off of their motivations for being a hero.
And although a little bewildered, Stain wasn’t above learning and changing his views on society.
“Ah,” Izuku continues, his next words speaking to Stain’s cold dead heart. “But it really shouldn’t matter their motives for being heroes as long as they effectively save people.”
Stain releases him and Izuku scampers out of the alleyway, not once looking back until he makes it to relative safety.
And so, without ever really knowing why Stain had let him live, Izuku calls it a night.
On his way home Izuku hears the sound of a cat in distress. He can’t keep himself from investigating but his earlier encounter has left him wary of everything, so he approaches the situation with caution.
Really, at this point he should just leave things be and not investigate every little sound. He’d already almost been killed once tonight.
But as it turns out, the cat was just that, a cat.
And as he gazed upon her, he decides to try and pick her up. She hisses at him in warning and bites his hand, sharp fangs penetrating his skin. But still he persists, ignoring the writhing of the cat trying to escape his gentle grip.
She didn’t have any tags and looks borderline starved. Definitely a stray.
Poor thing had a splinter in her paw.
Izuku doesn’t have the resources to take care of it here in the alleyway, but he does have a pair of tweezers at home that he could get it out with.
So, he tucks the cat into his hoodie and walks home. Eventually she stops fighting him and begins to purr weakly against his hands. As he carries her, the thought suddenly occurs to him that the cat is now his.
He hadn’t intended for it to happen but well, he couldn’t leave her in the alleyway and couldn’t bring himself to take her to a shelter.
Thusly he had grown attached in the span of only a few seconds and the cat was now his. She was a scrawny thing, Izuku suspects she’s already had at least two litters of kittens. Cats who have kittens young tend to have their growth stunted. She would never grow to her full size.
But Izuku was alright with that. It just made her easier to hide from his landlord. Not that a policy against cats had ever been explained to him, but he would rather not have to explain that he picked up a random stray who had been hissing at him and bit his hand before he calmed her down. Izuku has a feeling that she would attack anyone on sight.
Izuku returns to his apartment, exhausted, but makes sure to take the splinter from the Calico’s paw and rub some disinfectant into it. He isn’t sure what cats eat but puts out a bowl of rice and a bowl of water. That would have to do for now until he could do more research in the morning.
The appreciative purr and the soft noming are enough for him.
Then he promptly passed out on his bed, the stress of the night finally getting to him and sending him into a deep sleep.
That night he dreams of dead bodies and serial killers and in the morning, he has a small panic attack because what the fuck happened last night.
Had he really said that to a notorious killer and gotten away alive?
Izuku swore from then that he was definitely going to have to find a teacher. There was no way he could continue like this and not know how to fight for himself. Sure, he was okay at fighting with knives, but he wasn’t proficient enough in a life-or-death situation. The skirmish with Stain was enough to tell him that much.
A small meow voiced itself from beside his bed.
Izuku jolts.
He had totally forgotten about the cat!
“Lets get you some food, hm?” Izuku hums as he scoops the cat up into his arms, snuggling her. They had a long day of research ahead of them and Izuku would have to buy everything his new friend needs. After feeding her some more rice and a little bit of chicken, Izuku makes a list of all the things he’ll need to buy later that day, only stopping briefly to scroll through the quirk forums again.
Then he notices the unread DM in his mailbox.
He clicks on it and reads.
DarknessConsumes: ‘Thou are a connoisseur of the dark arts? @SleepyCatLover departed thy name in #advice, so I shall seek thy council.’
DarknessConsumes: ‘My quirk is sentient. It does not often heed my words. Does thou have a solution?’
Izuku sits back in his chair, the calico curled up in his lap. Sentient quirks huh. Izuku hasn’t done a lot of research into those, because they’re so rare and hard to predict.
UrLocalAnalyst: ‘I don’t know a lot about sentient quirks, but is it possible that your quirk is responding to a subconscious feeling? Like the more you fear your quirk will go out of control the more likely for it to do exactly that. It’s still effectively part of you, although sentient, so even though it might seem to have a personality all of its own it’s likely just responding to your feelings. Can your quirk talk? Try having a conversation with it if you can. But I’m not a professional so it might be a good idea to consult a quirk therapist.’
After sending the response, Izuku flips from their chat to his chat with SleepyCatLover.
UrLocalAnalyst: ‘Did you mention me on a forum to someone?’
It takes a second for SleepyCatLover’s status to flick to active.
SleepyCatLover: ‘yes? was i not supposed to?’
UrLocalAnalyst: ‘I mean, it’s fine just surprised me that’s all.’
Izuku pauses for a moment, looking at the username in front of him and down at the cat in his lap.
UrLocalAnalyst: ‘Actually, could you return the favor by telling me what cats like?’
And just like that, a new friendship based off of quirk forums and cats is born. And maybe a little bit of madness. Izuku really shouldn't go around befriending random strangers on the net but ah, here they were.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After taking care of Splinters and making sure she had more than enough food and water to last her the day, Izuku heads out from his apartment and makes his way downtown.
Izuku was quite possibly making a mistake.
Nope, he was definitely making a mistake but it's not like he has anyone to tell him to not make said mistake.
He was meeting up with
SleepyCatLover
, in person.
Izuku knows meeting up with a stranger off of the internet sounds suspicious, but he
really
needed the help picking out things for Splinters and he hadn't wanted to do it alone.
Izuku waits in the cafe, eyes pealed for the online enigma as his brain shuffles through all the possible outcomes.
Best case? He makes a new friend. God knows he needs those.
Worst case? It's a predator whom Izuku will promptly punt in the knees and escape. That's why he has chosen this cafe, out of his way and not part of his normal routine.
Before he can get too deep into his anxieties, the door chimes.
"God this is stupid." A voice grumbles from the doorway. "Why did I offer to help when I don't even know the guy, what if this is like, some kidnapping scheme or something."
"Uh," Izuku starts quietly before clearing his throat and starting again. "SleepyCatLover?"
"UrLocalAnalyst?" SleepyCatLover, now confirmed to be the tired looking teen with purple hair that had just walked into the cafe grumbling snaps his head towards Izuku. "Thank fuck you're not some creepy old man."
"Thank god
you're
not some creepy old man." Izuku empathizes back. "I'm plenty young, thank you very much."
"Thank Satan for that." SleepyCatLover slides into the booth. They seem to fall into an easy banter. "What's your name anyways? I don't wanna be stuck calling you your screen name in public and vice versa."
A small flush of embarrassment creeps up Shinsou's neck and Izuku, the observant little twat that he is, notices.
"Is someone embarrassed?" He teases with a flitting laugh. "Midoriya, Izuku. But you can just call me Izuku."
"Hitoshi Shinsou."
The two bond even more when they order the same coffee when the waiter approaches them, reveling in their insomnia fueled caffeine addictions together.
"What's the most time you've spent awake?" Shinsou is the one to ask, most likely to outdo the other boy. Much like Izuku, Shinsou doesn't have many friends because of his quirk status so its nice for him to be able to talk so naturally to someone.
"Hmm." Izuku taps the table and takes a sip of his coffee, deep in thought. "Maybe ninety-eight hours?"
Shinsou's jaw drops. "Shit, and I thought I had the record."
"What's yours?"
"Fourty-eight."
"Two days? Not bad."
"Not as impressive as ninety-eight though. That's what, a little over four days?"
"Almost. I could have stayed awake longer but I got knocked out by a blow to the head. Hurt like I just headbutted a truck but I ended up sleeping a few days which was nice."
“Yikes.” Shinsou comments as they leave the cafe. They had a cat to shop for.
First they hit up a small shop not too far out of the way, considering Izuku didn’t exactly have a car to get back to his apartment with. It was significantly closer than his apartment had been, but it was still a little bit out of their way.
“What does she need?” Izuku asks Shinsou who brouses the isles by dragging a hand across the plush surfaces of the cat beds.
“A bed, some food, a litter box. Maybe some toys if you have the money.”
- - - - -
"Hey," Shinsou asks confused as they walk back to Izuku's appartment with their bags. "Why have you been responding to me all day? Aren't you afraid of me using my quirk on you?"
Izuku stares at him for a second then blinks.
"Should I be scared of you using your quirk? Just because you could use it doesn't mean you
will
use it. It's like the difference between carrying a gun and weilding a gun."
"My quirk isn't quite that strong." Shinsou grumbles. "But I see your point. Thanks."
"Anytime."
Even though it goes unmentioned betwixt the two, Shinsou wonders if this is what it's like to actually be accepted by someone.
Or, well, in this case, he's been adopted into Izuku's very small, very niche circle.
When Izuku got home that night and unpacked all of Splinters stuff from the box, the box was forfeited to Splinters.
That box, that Izuku had lugged around all day with her cat toys and food stored within, would be her greatest treasure yet.