Chapter Text
Izuku crouched on the wall lining the parking lot of the hospital, staring up at the building, watching for any flash of blue. He wore a pair of dark track pants, a hoodie with the hood up, a thin backpack, and a facemask - trying not to be spotted, but planning just in case he did. A flicker in the darkness caught his eye, and his gaze snapped to a small blue ball of flames floating out of one of the upper-level windows.
It drifted towards him slowly, until it hovered in front of him. Izuku lifted up his cupped hands, and the small ball of fire settled in them feeling only a little warm to his fingers. It flared for a moment before calming down again.
“Shoma,” he said softly to the onibi spirit, “what did you see?”
Many of the usual cases , the onibi replied. A few who could use help. One of them will be impossible to reach tonight due to the activity in their room, but the other two should be possible. Straight in front of us - the room four windows up. Also to our right, second window up.
“Alright, thank you,” Izuku said, counting the windows. “Keep watch for me?”
Of course.
Izuku leaped soundlessly off the wall, creeping towards the edge of the hospital building. Scanning the walls in the dim light, he picked a route and dug his fingers into the small inconsistencies. He did his best to drown out the anxious murmuring of his mind at the thought of climbing so high with so little, and began to haul himself up.
Thankfully, after so much practice, the climb was not too difficult. There was a heart-stopping moment when his shoe failed to grip the small outcrop he had intended to use as a foothold, but Shoma zipped up to him in time to boost his foot high enough to regain his footing. Izuku sent a mental impression of gratitude to the small spirit, and the onibi tapped his mind in return, before returning to his task of keeping watch.
He shifted to crouch precariously on the windowsill on the fourth floor that Shoma had pointed out to him. Flicking out a thin knife, he slid it through the slight gap where it rested shut and wiggled it a bit to flip the lock open. After a moment it gave, and he quickly and quietly slid the window open so that he could duck into the room.
Shoma, I’m in , he called out in the second tone, so as to avoid waking the room’s occupant. The blue ball of fire flitted inside again, moving over towards the sleeping patient. He hovered above them - a young boy, and as Izuku moved his sight into the second plane he saw the thin trail of energy Shoma was drawing from the boy to ensure that he would stay asleep.
Finding the clipboard with his medical records, Izuku scanned the pages for what had caught the onibi’s attention. Nothing was physically wrong with the boy, except that he was having trouble controlling his Quirk and it kept hurting him. Simple enough to fix, though the boy’s spirit likely wouldn’t be too happy with his meddling at first.
Izuku took a Sharpie out of his back pocket and walked up to the boy. He gently moved one of the kid’s hands so that it tilted further into the light and he could see well enough to draw. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, he drew a sigil in Script on the boy’s skin before drawing a similar sigil on his own hand.
Following the thread of energy that now connected them, Izuku sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes, trusting Shoma to tell him if he needed to get moving. Reaching out, he followed the trail of energy to the boy, then followed it even further to the thread that connected him to his spirit.
Examining it for a moment, he saw that there were a few places where the thread was… knotted, for lack of a better description. That was probably what was causing the Quirk issues for the kid. Bracing himself, he reached out and touched the thread to begin unraveling the knots.
Immediately he felt a rush of energy through it. Izuku withheld a sigh and waited, still holding the thread. A presence that felt a little like bloodlust made itself known - not fully present with him but clearly watching him through the thread he was gripping.
Usurper , the spirit hissed - a jubokko, Izuku realized, wincing a little internally at the thought of the blood-thirsty tree spirits. Thief!
No, he insisted instantly, hoping to head off the spirit before it got too swept away by rage. A helper - I don’t want your bond. Your human’s Quirk is hurting them, see for yourself. I’m here to untangle the knots, that is all. I will Promise if needed.
The jubokko paused, observing him for a moment longer. It clearly wanted to make him Promise, but was wary of doing so, since it would mean reciprocation on its part. After a moment a sense of wary acceptance filtered through the fragile bond, and Izuku got the sense that he’d both dodged a bullet and that he’d better watch his step if he wanted to avoid being eaten. Shoma would help where he could, but he was a weak spirit and would be unable to do much even against something as low-tier as a jubokko.
He hurriedly turned back to his task, plucking as gently and carefully as he could at the thread tying the jubokko to the boy to get the knots out without pulling on it from either side. It took some time, but eventually he eased away from the thread and saw it straighten out. Distantly he heard the boy sigh in what he was pretty sure was relief.
The jubokko eyed him for a moment more, before turning its attention away with a disgruntled grumble. Izuku opened his eyes and let the tension drain from his shoulders. It had been a while since he’d encountered any youkai that interested in tasting his blood. Most preferred to get Promises out of him - either to give away deeds or pieces of himself to them, in return for his help.
We should be done now , he said to the onibi hovering over the boy, watching the Sharpie on the kid’s hand flake away as the sigil was used up. Shoma sent him the mental equivalent of a nod and backed away, slowly cutting off the energy thread he was using to keep the boy asleep.
Let’s do the next one then go before you get caught , the small ball of fire said, flying back towards the window. Izuku slipped back through the window after him, sliding it closed silently behind him. Shuffling carefully to the side, he had climbed down to about halfway to the third floor when Shoma let out a quiet curse. A hero is about to come around the corner! Get inside!
Letting out a quiet curse of his own, Izuku shifted to go in the third window instead of the second. He could drop down one more floor once the hero was gone, and Shoma should be able to keep whoever was inside asleep long enough for him to leave again. He used his knife to quickly flip open the lock and slipped inside, shutting the window behind him just in time to see the hero round the corner.
He let out a sigh of relief and turned around, only to freeze at the sight of two pro-heroes, someone who was probably a hero-in-training, and a little girl in a hospital bed all staring at him.
A moment after they all registered each other’s presence, a streak of grey flew towards Izuku, causing him to yelp and dive to the side. The screech of an owl pierced the air, and Izuku’s eyes widened. Oh no.
Casting his gaze quickly to the side, he saw a dark grey owl spirit with glowing red eyes looming over the shoulder of one of the heroes. A tatarimokke. The hero had a tatarimokke - those spirits were terrifying to Izuku, because the few he’d met in his life were all powerful and it was impossible to tell if they were murderous or benevolent until you were too close to run.
And, he thought, dodging the hero’s… weapon? again, if this hero had a tatarimokke then there was only one hero that he could be.
“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” Eraserhead growled, pausing in his assault to size Izuku up. The sharp snap of a beak from the blue, glowing heron spirit in the corner - an aosagibi clearly belonging to the other hero, Present Mic - punctuated his words.
“I promise,” Izuku began, voice beginning to waver, “this is a misunderstanding, I didn’t mean to come in here, and I’ll leave right now if you let me.”
I say we eat him, Daiki , the owl said, batting her wings in the air. What do you say?
Hayami , the heron clacked its beak, we can’t eat this human. Our humans need him still .
“If this was a misunderstanding,” Present Mic said, eyes sharp, “then what is the real explanation for you climbing in the third-floor window of a hospital into a little girl’s room - in particular, a girl who is in protective custody?”
“Shit,” Izuku said before his eyes widened as he realized he just cursed in front of two heroes. “I mean - look, I really wasn’t here for her. I was visiting someone else and slipped in here so I wouldn’t get caught. This was a total accident, I swear.”
“Who were you here for?” Eraserhead interjected, frowning as his capture scarf remained loose and ready to use. “And why couldn’t you visit them during normal hours?”
“I - fine,” Izuku sighed, glancing over towards Shoma before letting his gaze dart towards the owl and heron cautiously. “I… the best way to describe it is that I can - fix Quirks? That’s not really what I’m doing, but it’s the best description I have. I sneak into hospitals around the area and help people whose Quirks are hurting them or not working right. There was a kid on the fourth floor I just helped tonight whose Quirk was poisoning him every time he used it. I made it so it won’t do that anymore.”
“You took his Quirk?” the hero-in-training demanded, standing up suddenly as the girl in the bed shrank back. Izuku immediately shook his head, bringing his arms up defensively.
“No, no!” he exclaimed, eyes darting towards the owl and heron again, both of whom had fluffed up in the beginning stages of fury. “Never! Well, unless someone asked me to, but that’s never happened before. When I say fix, I mean it. The kid still has his Quirk, and it still works mostly the same - it just doesn’t poison him anymore, that part now has an off-switch so to speak.”
Silence meets his statement as all the people in the room stared at him. Izuku did his best to hide the shaking of his hands, and he felt Shoma’s tiny weight land on his shoulder and a slight warmth from him against his neck. The two pro-heroes exchanged a look.
“Can you fix my cur- I mean, Quirk?” the girl in the bed asked, abruptly drawing all of their attentions. She shrank a little seeing all of their eyes staring at her, but pressed on. “Mine’s broken too. It’s never hurt me, but it’s hurt others and I can’t control it.”
“I can,” Izuku said slowly, eyeing all three of the heroes and the two spirits with them warily. “It might feel a little weird, but it’s nothing I haven’t done for people before.”
“Can you bring back lost Quirks?” The blond hero student blurted out, causing the other two to send him a sharp look. The hero student ignored them though, staring intently at Izuku. “Quirks that have been taken away for good, can you bring them back?”
Izuku blinked, mind whirring. There was subtext to this conversation, he realized. This question wasn’t theoretical, it was genuine. Based on the look in his eyes, and the expressions on Eraserhead and Present Mic’s faces, it was someone he knew well - maybe even himself?
“I’ve never tried before,” he admitted, flicking his eyes between them all. The blond hero student began to slump until he continued. “But I don’t see why I couldn’t, in theory? It would probably be similar to what I already do.”
“Mirio…” Eraserhead warned, before the student - Mirio, apparently, shot him a look of his own.
“C’mon, Eraserhead,” he said. “It’s a way to verify what he’s telling us, and if anyone should risk it, it’s me. There isn’t much more he could do to my Quirk, so why not? Worst case scenario, nothing happens to it, best case it comes back to me.”
There was a tense moment of silence, and Izuku’s eyes flicked between the owl and the heron, before returning to the heroes. After a long moment, Eraserhead sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Fine, but the moment he starts to do anything that looks like it would be harmful, I’m stepping in and detaining him, no questions asked,” he huffed, before turning to look expectantly at Izuku.
Izuku withheld the urge to gulp at the wary and expectant looks of the other people in the room. He hesitated for a moment, before slowly stepping towards the blond hero-in-training - keeping as wide a berth from the two pros and their spirits as he could, and keeping his way to the window clear.
Shoma… he intoned quietly, flicking a look at the owl and heron watching them, and the onibi flickered against his neck.
I know , his friend murmured back, tucking himself up closer towards Izuku’s skin. He gained a little extra weight that Izuku knew was the equivalent of the spirit holding onto him.
Turning his attention back to the newbie hero - Mirio? - Izuku shifted his weight awkwardly. He had no idea how to go about this with the person awake - every other time the person was always asleep. The audience also wasn’t helping much, and that was without half of them wanting to either arrest him or eat him. Still, he had to do something, so he gestured awkwardly towards the chair Mirio had been in before.
“You, er, might want to sit? This might take a while, and I have no idea if you’ll feel dizzy or something. I’ve only done this to people who are asleep, but it shouldn’t hurt you,” he said. Mirio blinked, but complied, sitting down in his chair as Izuku pulled out a Sharpie.
“What about you?” he asked curiously, watching as Izuku took his hand and began writing the familiar sigil on it. He frowned at it, blinking hard as he examined the sigil. “And what did you write on me? My eyes don’t seem to want to read it.”
“I’m fine on the floor,” Izuku dismissed, already beginning to draw the matching sigil on himself. “I just drew a sigil - your eyes just weren’t built to read it.”
Tuning out any responses from the others as best he could, he closed his eyes and focused on finding that thread. He found Mirio’s end easily through the connection created by the sigils. It was finding where it went that was the hard part.
Taking hold of the thread mentally, he slowly followed it until he reached a place where it had been… frayed? Snapped was probably a better term, he realized, looking at the ragged ends that felt painful even still. If it had been frayed, there would have been the distance and indifference towards a Quirk that wasn’t used or enjoyed.
Izuku latched onto the end of the thread and held on despite the transference of pain. Distantly, he felt his body’s face screw up in discomfort, but he cast his mental hand out anyway as he looked for a matching pain from elsewhere. It felt like wading through molasses, but finally his metaphorical fingertips touched on something that sparked and he instinctively latched on.
Power flooded into him like a river, and even on the edge of the Third Plane he could feel his body on the First curl into itself and wheeze from the onslaught. The spirit followed shortly after, overwhelming enough in its frantic mood and pain from the severing that Izuku couldn’t even identify it.
Help us, help me, help him, help help heLP HELP US , it roared. Izuku whimpered at the volume and mental pressure, but did his best to fight through the tidal wave of information and sensation and power to bring each end of the snapped thread together.
If finding the other end of the thread was like wading through molasses, dragging them together felt like trying to move through solid concrete. It was slow going, with painful sensation on one side and a wrong-feeling emptiness on the other, with an immense pressure everywhere in between.
Finally though, the two ends were touching, and they flared as the strands met. Izuku held tight even as they began shaking. There was a reason it took spirits so long to figure out how to grant humans Quirks - it was incredibly difficult for them, and even more so for a human without a Quirk of his own to attempt the same.
The longer he held the strands together, the more they twined around each other, intermingling and growing stronger. Until, finally, with a burst of light they solidified into a single thread again and power pulsed through it, knocking Izuku back into his body.
Gasping, he jolted back into his body, sagging as all his energy left him. He panted, dazed, collapsing onto his back and closing his eyes as his head swam. He’d never done anything like that before, and it took a lot more out of him than he’d anticipated. Shoma flickered reassuringly against his neck, even as he heard the beaks of the tatarimokke and the aosagibi clicking off to the side.
“Kid, what happened?” he heard Eraserhead ask, and the part of him that wasn’t exhausted as hell thought he detected some concern in the hero’s voice. Izuku threw an arm over his eyes and waved his other hand at the man dismissively, panting for breath.
“Sensei…”
At the wavering voice of the other teenager in the room, Izuku peeked out from under his arm. Mirio was watching his arm, before it seemed to go slightly transparent and he stuck it through the nearby hospital bed. Eraserhead sat up sharply, his hair rising into the air as he and the tatarimokke’s eyes glowed red in unison.
The kid’s arm abruptly popped out of the hospital bed, but at the distressed noise it pulled from Mirio, Eraserhead dropped his Quirk immediately. The hero-in-training’s arm went intangible again, and he stuck it through several more things, grin beginning to grow on his face.
Izuku huffed a pleased breath, before turning his face back into his elbow. Shoma sat nestled into the dip of his collarbone, emitting a pleasant warmth that was far more soothing than expected - especially after the ordeal of giving a Quirk back. The sound of footsteps accompanied by rustling feathers told him he had company though, and with a wariness born of years of experience, Izuku made himself uncover his eyes and sit up, eyeing both the hero and his spirit tensely.
“I asked before, kid, and you didn’t answer,” the hero stated blandly, dark eyes scrutinizing him. “You okay?”
Izuku blinked, shifting his eyes slightly to the right to where the owl loomed over Eraserhead’s shoulder. Even she seemed to have calmed down some, and appeared to be studying Shoma and him carefully. He resisted the urge to look at Shoma, instead sending a hint of his own bewilderment to the spirit instead.
“Er, yeah?” He blinked, brow creasing as he looked between the people in the room. “I’ll be fine, I’m just tired. Why would that matter…? Oh! This is about her Quirk!”
He grinned, relieved to have figured the situation out. He saw the slightest hint of a frown on the faces of the heroes in the room, but he was too caught up to fully register it before he was turning to the girl on the bed.
“No worries! I should be able to help you too, still!” he exclaimed. A flicker from Shoma against his neck made him flinch, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I can , just maybe not right now? I’ve already helped with a Quirk once tonight, and then tried out that new thing just now, so I’m pretty drained. Once I’ve taken a nap though, I should be good to help! Er, that is, if you still want me to?”
The girl opened her mouth, before closing it and glancing uncertainly at the two heroes in the room. Realizing that she was asking for permission, Izuku flicked an uncertain look at them, doing his best to avoid staring at the bird spirits hovering over their shoulders. He was honestly surprised they were staying so close - most spirits tended to only visit their people on occasion. Though, they were pro heroes. Spirits tended to be more interested in people who used their gifts frequently.
“Tomorrow, we can discuss the whole process more,” Eraserhead finally said, arms crossed as he sunk into his capture scarf. “For now, it’s late and everyone needs some sleep.”
“Right,” Izuku said, carefully standing and making his way towards the window. “I guess I’ll come back tomorrow then?”
“What are you doing?” Present Mic asked, sounding confused as Izuku slid the window open. Izuku turned back to them and blinked in confusion.
“...Leaving?” he said carefully, unsure what the problem was. Eraserhead grunted at that, eyes scanning his form.
“You have somewhere to stay, kid?” he asked, and Izuku suddenly felt… prickly. He didn’t like this line of questioning, or how sharp the heroes’s eyes apparently were, because Eraserhead may have been the one to actually ask the question, but all three of the heroes in the room were the ones really wondering.
“Obviously,” he said, doing his best to keep his body language loose, knowing that the heroes would see any tension in his frame. Eraserhead didn’t respond, just staring at him, before glancing towards Present Mic.
“It’s late, kid,” Present Mic said, taking a step forward. “You can stay here for you want, in one of the other beds, or we can call someone to take you home instead. It wouldn’t feel right to let a kid wander the streets at this hour.”
Izuku blinked at them, his weight shifting back towards the window again.
“Look, I appreciate the thought, but I’ve been doing this for years,” he said flatly. “I know how to get home without being noticed - and on the off chance I am, I know how to get away. I’ll be fine.”
“Kid,” Eraserhead said firmly, sending him a pointed look over the top of his capture scarf.
He hovered for a moment more, before slumping a little, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this that easily. There was no way he was going to be able to outrun the three of them, nor was there any chance he was showing them where he’d been staying. And even thinking about pretending to go back home made his stomach knot up in anxiety, so he was out of options. Shoma flickered against his neck soothingly, no doubt picking up on his unease with the situation.
“Fine, you win,” he said, making no effort to hide his unhappiness with the decision. “I’ll stay here tonight, try to do something about her Quirk in the morning, then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Alright!” the hero-in-training, Izuku thought he’d been called Mirio, said, clearly trying to ease some of the tension in the room. “You can go ahead and take the bed - we’re all going to be dozing in shifts until morning, so we won’t need it.”
Hesitating a moment longer, Izuku shuffled his way towards the bed closest to the window, the only other empty one in the room. He presumed it was a private room in the hospital, given the whole protective custody thing and the fact that they were offering him the other bed without consulting with a nurse.
Despite his best efforts, he could feel the tension radiating off himself in waves as he clambered onto the bed. He put his back to the window so he could face the heroes and their spirits, swinging his backpack off his back and curling around it, hugging it to his chest. He didn’t bother getting under the covers - if the two spirits in the room decided they were tired of him, he didn’t want to be caught up in sheets while he tried to move. As he settled down and put his head on the pillow, he felt Shoma settle into the crease of his neck, warming his skin ever so slightly.
You’ll keep watch? He asked the onibi in the second tone, so that the heroes wouldn’t hear. The tatarimokke and the aosagibi clicked their beaks upon hearing him, but made no further response to the question.
Of course, Shoma said quietly. Sleep. I’ll wake you if needed .
Trusting the small ball of blue flames to keep his word, Izuku closed his eyes. He steadied his breathing, knowing that it would take a while to actually fall asleep with how tense he was. Still, as he calmed down, his breathing smoothed out and came slower, and he was pretty sure the heroes thought he was asleep before too long.
“Mirio, go ahead and rest too,” Present Mic said, keeping his voice low. “We’ll keep an eye on Eri and the kid.”
Izuku was confused for a moment, before he realized Eri must be the girl. A quiet curse came from Eraserhead shortly after.
“We forgot to get the kid’s name,” he said, sounding grumpy about that fact. “He fixed Mirio’s Quirk, was clearly nervous around us, and we didn’t even thank him or ask his name.”
“We can ask in the morning,” Mirio said firmly. “I’m more concerned about the fact that he didn’t text anyone to say he’d be out all night. Either that means nobody will notice for whatever reason, or that his guardians know he’s out all night and don’t care. I don’t like the implications of either of those explanations.”
“In the morning,” Present Mic said firmly, shifting his weight in his chair by the sound of it. “All of this can be dealt with in the morning. For now, sleep.”
Onibi , came the tatarimokke’s voice in the ensuing silence. Izuku was pretty sure she went by Hayami. You know what he is, do you not?
Obviously , Shoma said quietly. How couldn’t I? It’s clear as anything he’s a Connection.
And you know what happened the last time a Connection showed up , she snapped back. The last time a spirit got close to a Connection, hundreds paid the price. You put all of us at risk with your friendship.
There is nothing at risk with my friendship! Shoma retorted, flames flickering larger for a moment, before dying down again. You don’t even know what he’s called - you cannot claim to know his intentions, nor do you have the right to pass judgement on his character. You will stay out of this, tatarimokke. You’re overstepping your place.
A mere onibi would speak to me like that? Hayami’s beak clacked, as Shoma’s words clearly offended her. You -
Hayami , the crane interrupted. The onibi is not without reason. Hold your judgements until they are given just cause. We can readdress this at a later time, the Connection is close to sleep but still awake.
In his half-aware state, Izuku began to tense, before the familiar flames of Shoma pressed against his cheek soothingly. Letting out a quiet sigh, he sank into the faint heat from the onibi.
Sleep, Izuku , the onibi murmured, quiet enough so that Izuku knew he was the only one who could hear the spirit. Sleep .
Surrendering the last of his awareness, Izuku let himself fall into a shallow sleep, letting himself trust the small spirit like he always had before to keep him safe and to be his eyes when he couldn’t watch out for himself.