Chapter Text
They always say you can't get in the same body of water twice, not one like the ocean with its ever-swishing currents and waves. But out on the island, Izuku couldn't bring himself to believe the peaceful blue was not the same as the one he used to wade in with his mother when he was younger. It felt like the same crystal-like sand- so much coarser than the kind on the beaches closer to their apartment. They hadn't come out often- the boat taxi was always more expensive than just driving out further to a piece of beach somewhere more quiet. It was mostly because Izuku begged or guilt tripped her or some sort of combination. They'd called it Midoriya island since it seemed they were one of the only families that knew about it, or at least, one of the only families willing to spend money or the outrageous boat fee to go to an island that couldn't stretch out more than a couple of miles. Midoriya island was flooded with overgrown bushes and trees- so much so it was impossible to see the other sides of the island while standing out on the sand. There was a collection of rocks on the far east end usually covered in snails and creatures Izuku had always been forbidden to touch, leading out to what he called a cave and his mom called off limits. It wasn't a cave- more of a miniature cove/hideaway where he could fit himself under a jutted-out rock and hide until the high tide came.
It made his throat ache now, realizing as he waded out into the familiar hideaway, his mom was no longer there to tell him not to. He had almost expected her to be standing there- ankle-deep in the water with her eyes closed and head tilted to soak in the sun. It had made his heart thunder just thinking about it, even though he knew it wouldn't happen. He'd held his breath as he'd snuck on the boat just before it departed, doing his best to blend in with the very few tourists on board, sneaking off with them as casually as he could before sprinting through the trees and getting to the other side of the island as quickly as he could. He didn't think he'd taken another breath again until he'd stood on the empty beach, realizing this was the first time he'd ever been here alone. Still- he hadn't had time to let himself process if that thought was messed up or healing. The League of Villains was here, supposedly, on his beach. The one place in his life that hadn't been touched by that world. Izuku would be damned if he let them have this too.
Technically- this was a rouge mission. Technically- every mission he went on was a rogue mission. He'd been thirteen, dreaming of U.A. or any hero school really that would accept him. It felt good to know he'd been just as determined then as he was now. He liked knowing some things never changed. It was weird too though, to be as unchanging as he was before the League had risen and staged out attacks across their city, and had been responsible for so many civilians getting killed in the crossfire, including Inko Midoriya. Izuku hadn't gone to U.A., and hadn't even applied. It had hurt too much to see if his father, one he couldn't remember, would come back for him or if he would be put in the system. When she'd died, Izuku had let himself die with her, letting everyone think Izuku Midoriya had been standing right there with her when the building collapsed, instead of watching from an empty roof a street over.
The first thing he'd wanted was revenge, but that felt too lofty, even for a hormone-driven teenager who was heartbroken. He'd started smaller, gathering supplies from the debris or his home before the new realtor or whoever it was that kept going over could take stock of everything. It was difficult, leaving most of their things behind. He took the essentials, leaving the hairbrush, the phone chargers, and anything that would look suspicious behind. He'd built his own, admittedly poorly made, support gear. Izuku never wanted to forage his path. He had wanted to be part of a team, a league of heroes.
But going out on his own was easier than it had ever been trying to blend into a world of quirks. Criminals on the street didn't doubt him the way his classmates would have. It felt good to be taken seriously. Nobody knew how old he was, what quirk he had, anything other than that he was a threat. It became even better when he'd run across an underground hero, one who even was affiliated with U.A. Izuku had met Eraserhead when was 14 and tried to apprehend the same pickpocketer. Eraserhead was undoubtedly suspicious of Izuku, offering different numbers and resources to him at various times. He had told Izku he wouldn't report him for unauthorized quirk usage if Izuku told him his identity and let Eraserhead help him. It had been tempting, especially those nights Izuku was exhausted and would love to sleep somewhere that had air conditioning or indoor plumbing. But Izuku was underage and Eraserhead was still a government-employed hero, however much he pretended to not care that the laws of Japan also applied to him. Izuku had enjoyed talking with Eraserhead over the past few months and as spring turned into summer, he considered them a pair of unlikely friends. Of course, Izuku had known Eraserhead was getting closer and closer to trying to arrest him. Eraserhead would inch closer and closer until Izuku had to throw out some excuse and book it. Izuku didn't have a quirk but he was fast and this was his hometown- he knew more hiding spots than anyone else in the city. Neither of them acknowledged these interactions. Izuku needed a friend too badly to give up the guy and Eraserhead was- well, that had yet to be determined.
He knew Eraserhead probably didn't buy into the whole Izuku being twenty-three thing, if not from his unfortunate lack of teenage boy growth spurt than his obviously fake deep voice, but Eraserhead had yet to comment on it and that was maybe the nicest thing about him. For a hero, he was weirdly unobservant. He'd dropped part of his support gear, a taser, and first aid kit during one of their meetings. Izuku had thought it might have been on purpose, a weird way of giving unwanted help, but he'd noticed over time the guy was just weird. He always seemed to be in a state of waking up or nodding off, never fully awake. He'd forget lunches frequently and have to double-check where he was meant to be patrolling. He either didn't care as much as he should or seriously needed to take a night off. Eraserhead also had a bad tendency of not realizing Izuku was within a ten-foot radius, close enough to hear when he accidentally left his radio on speaker, allowing Izuku to hear the League of Villains might be planning a meeting in a week on the southwest island off the coast of Mustafa (aka Midoriya island).
All of the following had led him here, sinking deeper into pleasantly warm waters and pretending for a moment he was just here to relive good memories and not protect one of his only untouched memories. If he remembered correctly he only had a few hours before the water rose too high for him to stay in his hiding spot. Izuku told himself he wouldn't be in the water too long, surely if there was any sort of meeting taking place it would be somewhere more discreet. He could sneak out after dark and go into the cluster of trees to look for them. But as he went deeper and deeper the doubt became stronger and louder. For the first time since Izuku had listened to the very strong voice in his head telling him to protect this place, he started to doubt how great his plan was. He didn't have any qualms about camping out here but how long would it all take? Izuku told himself he was just here as a backup. Eraserhead was his friend (sorta), and this was his place (sorta). He had a right to be here (sorta).
It was impossible to get in the same water twice but Izuku felt like he'd been in this hot water before.
He tried to self-soothe as he waited. His shirt and shoes were neatly hidden away between two rocks up overhead and he was still small enough to fit in the space between two rocks no adult could. He pressed his back up against the cool stone and let his head fall back too with his eyes closed. His mask and a few light weapons and supplies he'd thrown into his bag were lodged up overhead in a convenient backpack-sized nook. He didn't have much. Izuku liked to think he was an out-of-the-box thinker but even he had to admit the quality of the materials he used to build his devices (aka junkyard freebies) did slow him down quite a bit. There was a pin that had successfully opened every lock he'd experimented on so far. There was the taser, a makeshift grappling device to heave himself up over walls and fences, slightly broken handcuffs, and a plastic yellow disposable camera to help him remember past bits of evidence. Not that he anticipated using any of these treasures, today was about observing. The water was steady in its lapsing, splashing up onto his chest every so often. At some point, he thought he heard the familiar dull roar of a boat engine but it was hard to tell with how everything echoed in the small cave. It was dark by the time the water grew too high for him to stay put. He swam out quietly, keeping low to the water's surface as he dared a peek out past the rocks.
Izuku almost fell back right into the pool as he saw a dark figure, not twenty feet from him, thankfully with their back turned. They weren't looking towards the ocean but rather at the island, as if waiting for someone to walk out. Izuku's stomach twisted. That wasn't- it couldn't be a member of the league. Could it? Everything felt much more real at that moment. Just before Izuku could really work himself into a panic, he saw the familiar end of the capture weapon. It was Eraserhead- though he'd never seemed so sinister. He looked taller somehow in the darkness, more powerful. It should have been nerve-wracking. If Eraserhead wanted to arrest him for being a vigilante this would be a perfect time and place. There would be no denying what Izuku was doing out here. It took him a moment more to remember he wasn't wearing his mask, he could pretend to be some stupid kid who had been left behind by the rest of the tourists. Eraserhead wasn't detail-oriented, he wouldn't remember the cadence of Izuku's speech- wouldn't recognize him at all. That had been his backup plan from the beginning. Part of Izuku wanted to jump out then, ask if he hitch a ride with Eraserhead back to the island and forget about this crazy plan. He stayed there frozen, debating, watching Eraserhead as Eraserhead watched the island.
There was a sudden crunch of branches despite Eraserhead not moving from his post. Izuku sank lower instinctually. It wasn't just the two of them on this island after all. The heroes had been right. Eraserhead turned quickly, looking out at the rocks just above Izuku's hiding place. Was there someone just up above him? There weren't any footsteps. Could it be that one of the villains had a quirk that allowed them to fly? It didn't make sense, Izuku had been almost certain the villains would want to meet in the safety of the trees, further inland. Why would they be standing out on the beach? If more than one hero was patrolling they would be caught immediately. On cue, Eraserhead took a few steps closer. Izuku pressed a clammy hand over his mouth and slowly sank back towards behind the rocks. It was harder than it seemed to swim silently and while he'd at first been grateful the calm waters didn't splash at him, he now wished there were violent waves around masking his sound.
The wind picked up abruptly. It sounded like a glitch, almost too controlled. Wait- was someone speaking? Izuku strained to hear. It almost sounded like there were voices up on the rocks. How many? It was hard to tell. Izuku blindly reached back behind him for his backpack. It splashed down into the water and Izuku held back a curse. He stood motionless for what felt like minutes but the whispering voices did not seem to grow any louder. They were so soft it was impossible to hear what they were saying. When it seemed safe enough he pulled the backpack over. Thankfully, the mask wasn't completely soaked, although what was once a dark green now looked black in the pale moonlight. He yanked it over his head, cringing at how gross it felt to feel wet cloth pressed up against his cheeks. Izuku had a habit of throwing himself head first in situations he had no business being in. This, however, had to be the most out of his league mission he'd ever bullshitted himself into. To make things worse he was running out of time to stay in his cave. The once pleasant water was now sending goosebumps down his arms and legs. It was getting colder and higher with each passing minute. Already, he was straining up on his tiptoes to keep his head above water level.
Izuku flinched as he heard what sounded like "Did you check down by the shore?" That was probably not a good thing to hear. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, slung his backpack onto his back, sucked in one last deep breath of air, and dived down below the surface. He swam quickly but carefully, doing his best to avoid crashing into anything sharp. There was a small path that led to the ocean and while he'd never tried swimming it in order to not give his mother a panic attack, he felt somewhat confident he'd be able to. If anyone saw him make an escape, it was hard to tell. Everything was muffled underwater. His feet scraped the bottom and he almost opened his mouth as he felt something slice the bottom of his foot. A broken seashell maybe. His lungs ached and all he could think about was the League of Villains chasing after him. How many of them were there? The news hadn't shown much coverage of them. The government was trying to keep Japan's citizens calm, instead showing footage of one of the top ten heroes putting out fire after fire while never showing what started the heat to begin with.
Finally, he felt nothing but water around him. It was shallow enough that he could find his footing. Izuku dug his toes into the sand- ignoring the cut's burn and breaking the surface as gently as he could. The mask was suffocating and although he was above the surface for a moment he couldn't breathe. He tore it off his face, for a moment not worried about anything other than getting air. The rush of salt air was dizzying. He took gasping breath after gasping breath. His eyes couldn't focus, everything was so dark. Izuku swam in circles for a long moment. Which way was the beach? He blinked water out of his eyes. Was that the treeline? His gaze traveled down and he thought he saw someone standing close to the water, body turned directly towards him. Izuku floundered back, not caring how loud the splashing was. A villain was there. The same villain that might have been responsible for killing his mom. The irony was not lost on him. The air left Izuku's lungs just as he felt a new current sweep up and under him. He didn't have time to take another breath. He felt himself fall back into the cold, felt it surround him as the water yanked his mask out of his clasp. Izuku was a good swimmer. His mom used to call him part boy part fish. So why was it that when he actually needed those skills everything went out the window? Izuku felt like a piece of paper being blown around in the wind. His limbs worked against him. He tried to kick up but had the awful feeling that was actually propelling him further down. Then, as if a paper being crumpled up into a ball, he felt himself folding in on himself and flipping around in the current. The back of his head hit something, not hard, but with enough force to make him open his mouth and release the last of his stored air. He couldn't process anything other than that it hurt. Was it his foot, head, lungs, or all three?
He could feel that same coarse sand he used to play in rubbing against his side. The beach. He was back on the beach. With the last of his endurance, Izuku threw his arm up, digging his fingers into the sand and dragging himself up and out of the water. The air was cold and beautiful and all things wonderful. Half of Izuku's body was still in the water but he didn't care. He coughed hard and gagged at the ocean taste still in his mouth. He felt close to blacking out. He'd never passed out before but this sure felt similar. It felt like he was looking through a camera that was going in and out of focus. The wind was still whispering. He heard it between coughs.
"You're a child," someone said. They sounded shocked, as if expecting to see a washed-up seal coming out of the water and not him. How disappointing for them. Izuku knew he needed to run, knew he was probably seconds from getting killed for witnessing whatever it was the League was doing out here.
Izuku groaned and tried to push himself up to his knees. He felt a shoe press down on the space between his shoulder blades, not roughly but enough to make him fall back stomach first onto the sand.
"Stay down," the voice ordered.
Izuku could feel his whole body shake. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from fear. His mind felt muggy- like his rationality was moving through wet mud and couldn't catch up with the rest of his thoughts. "I didn't-' began before another coughing fit took over. The shoe lifted off his as he propped himself up to get more air in. His eyes watered but stayed down, glaring at the white sand. "I didn't see anything." He tried desperately to think of anything he could say that would help. Maybe he could distract the villain long enough to swim back out into the ocean. Would they be desperate enough to swim out after him? He didn't particularly like this plan, especially given his current relationship with the current. Still- "I won't say anything to anyone, I'm just some stupid kid. I got separated from my parents and missed the last boat out of there. Please, they will be worried about me." His voice was raspy from the water but it worked in his favor, making him sound even younger, more lost.
His drenched mask was dropped into the sand next to him a second later.
The villain must have seen it washed up before he found Izuku.
"Something tells me that's not quite true," the villain replied. They didn't sound mad at Izuku's obvious lie. There was a chilling patience laced into their words as if speaking to a toddler that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Izuku planted his palms firmly into the ground and pushed up. He swung his arms out and landed a hit on what felt like a knee. He got to his feet and began to sprint. An immediate wave of dizziness washed over him like cold water. His left foot- the one that had been slashed while swimming, seemed to suddenly remember it had been hurt. He could feel blood pooling and the gash seemed to be ripping open in real-time. Izuku made a breathless sort of shout and stumbled forward. His head was swimming and he couldn't think fast enough to stop the fall.
A hand caught the strap on the top of his backpack and yanked him back before he could tumble all the way down. "Gotta attach weights to your ankles," the villain muttered low, enough so Izuku knew he wasn't meant to hear. "You're a slippery little thing."
That voice- Izuku twisted in the other's grip. He threw caution to the wind and looked up. Dark red eyes were staring back at him. He had thin black brows and long dark hair that appeared to be floating behind.
"Eraserhead," Izuku asked. His eyes widened. He'd been so certain he heard other voices but as he looked around they were the only ones there on the beach. He realized too late he had given away he knew the man and that he was the owner of the mask. Izuku tried to shrug his arms out of the backpack but it was as if merely thinking about trying for another escape had activated Eraserhead's capture weapon. It wrapped around his arms and torso tight, pushing his backpack tighter up against him. Izuku struggled for a moment but it was like pushing against a cement wall.
"You're a child," Eraserhead repeated. He didn't seem angry or frustrated, despite how he still had his capture weapon firmly around Izuku. It was like he didn't even have to think about it. His mouth was slightly agape and his face was pale. He looked to be in shock. "I wouldn't have- I thought I was catching a vigilante. Maybe some skinny punk eighteen-year-old at most not-." He shook his head. "You can't be more than twelve."
Izuku didn't respond to that. If Eraserhead wanted Izuku to jump in and correct him he was waiting for nothing. Instead, he did the next best thing and stomped on Eraserhead's foot. Eraserhead raised an eyebrow.
"You tricked me," Izuku seethed, trying to stomp again or do anything that might deter the other. His eyes fell on the voice modulator Eraserhead had tucked around his neck. How could he have fallen for that? He'd seen Eraserhead use it on people before he'd just never thought he'd been on the end of that attack. "And for what? The police don't care about someone like me. I wasn't doing anything other than helping catch a few bad people. How is that wrong? I didn't even." he scrambled for something to say. A new story that could get him out of this. Izuku had always been very good at making up stories. "I didn't even use my quirk on anyone. You wasted a whole night catching someone who wasn't even a threat. Why? I thought we were friends."
"I did this to help stop you before you could do something that would be arrestworthy. I knew if I confronted you somewhere you could run that I would never be able to get through to you."
Yeah, right. Eraserhead had been trying to covertly catch him for months now. Izuku didn't know if calling him out on the obvious lie would make the situation better or worse. He sucked in a deep breath. He would play along. The best scenario would be Eraserhead underestimating him and giving Izuku a window. "Okay. You confronted me. I won't do anything stupid I promise. If you are really my friend you'll let go of me."
"We aren't friends. You are a child," Eraserhead repeated for a third time. "A smart child but a child nonetheless."
"My parents will be worried," Izuku lied. He blinked back black spots dotting his vision, "Do you want me to tell them a supposed hero is kidnapping people?"
Eraserhead scoffed. "Kidnapping? I know you live on the streets kid. It's not too hard to tell. And you smell. I can look you up in the system and-"
"The system is corrupt," Izuku blurted out. He tugged back harshly, digging his good heel into the ground below as Eraserhead began to move away from the water. He knew he should still be feeling the adrenaline. he'd managed to escape in arguably worse situations. Why did he feel so tired? Something in Izuku's expression must have alarmed him because Eraserhead suddenly stopped moving. His gaze, while eyes still glowing, became analytical, traveling up and down. He gripped Izuku's chin with two calloused fingers and moved his head from side to side. His other hand came up to feel the back of Izuku's neck. "Shit," he muttered.
Izuku shared in the sentiment as he watched Eraserhead pull his hand away. It was red.
It was all a rush after that. Izuku stopped fighting after he realized it was just wasting energy. He was half dragged/half carried to a boat anchored just out of view around the bend. It didn't seem like it belonged to Eraserhead with how he fumbled around with the controls but then again it was Eraserhead. Izuku was still kind of in shock that Eraserhead had managed to capture him in the first place. Things became a bit blurry. He remembered Eraserhead snapping in the face and generally being annoying. Izuku knew he had to stay awake. It would have been easier if he could jump overboard back into the water but Eraserhead had handcuffed him to one of the rope posts on the boat. Izuku shivered and eyed his backpack longingly. The stupid "hero" had put it on the other side of the boat but it was still in the eye view of Izuku, as if mocking him.
He was surprised when he found himself indoors and lying on a couch. There was a woman's voice that sounded older but sharp. Izuku cringed and squeezed his eyes shut against the overhead lighting. Eraserhead was somewhere in the room. Izuku couldn't tell if he was talking to him or the woman. Was this jail? Was this a hospital? Was it a hospital inside of a jail? The room smelled like espresso. It weirdly smelled like Eraserhead. Was this his home?
"-Clothes."
"Hey-"
The world came back into focus. Izuku blinked and realized Eraserhead was gently shaking his shoulder. "I have dry clothes for you, kid." He had a folded-up gray t-shirt and sweats tucked under his arm. They were alone in what looked like an apartment. The walls were off-white and looked strangely empty. It took Izuku a minute to realize it was because the places where people usually hung up art and pictures were bare.
"I'm not a kid," Izuku snapped. Why was he mad? Shouldn't he be relieved this wasn't a jail hospital or whatever? Maybe Eraserhead really was just trying to help him but luring him out to that island? That was villain-level manipulation. And why? Just to bring him back to his house? Eraserhead didn't have his quirk activated. He must have found Izuku in the system- well the system that cataloged all those no longer living that used to be Japanese residents. Or maybe he just realized Izuku was too exhausted to fight his way out at the moment. Izuku couldn't help but be mad at himself. Why did he have to be so desperate for a friend? He knew Eraserhead was dangerous and yet he'd kept putting himself in situations where he could be caught. Why was he so surprised now it had actually happened? But as bad as this whole situation was, it didn't feel life-ruining as it probably should have.
Eraserhead seemed much less sinister now, in a small living room wearing a faded blue hoodie and jeans instead of his normal hero ensemble. "You're right. Maybe kid isn't the right word to describe you. Problem child is much more fitting."
Izuku's eyebrows furrowed and he reached to feel the back of his head. It was itchy and felt weird. Eraserhead caught his wrist and brought it back down to Izuku's side. His grip was loose but steady. "Bandages. You hit the back of your head, probably while you were out for a swim," Eraserhead explained.
Izuku didn't need to look down to know similar ones were wrapped around his foot.
"I had a Recovery Girl, a doctor, come up to help. She couldn't heal everything. She needs to see you again when your energy levels are better and you're not so, well, out of it."
"Why are you doing this?" Izuku rasped.
"Helping you?"
"Kidnapping me."
"If it makes you feel better you can think of it as an arrest."
Izuku was not amused. He tried to sit up and it didn't take much for Eraserhead to keep him there. The lightest of pushes felt like a tidal wave right now. He really was out of it. Izuku hadn't felt this helpless since before he became whatever it was he was now. A vigilante? A runaway? Izuku sank back into the cushions. He would allow himself to rest for now. Better to wait until Eraserhead's guard was down before leaving anyway. "Why not just bring me to the police then?"
"No."
"No? What do you mean no? Just freaking arrest me if you're gonna do it. This isn't the same thing as grabbing some cat off the street. You can't just, I mean you can't do whatever it is you're trying to do."
It was quiet for a long time. Too long. Eraserhead had that same look in his eyes as he did when he realized Izuku was injured. Eraserhead was not soft but in that moment he looked more human, more sad, than Izuku had ever seen him in all their late-night talks. Finally, he said, "This isn't up for discussion. Go put on clothes that don't smell like seaweed."
Izuku didn't know why his eyes suddenly burned. He could feel the tears coming. Please no. Please not right now. This was too much. Eraserhead wouldn't tell him anything. He was cold. He was exhausted. It felt like someone had thrown a metal frisbee at his head. He felt Eraserhead's hand lift off of him and he quickly sat up, ignoring the way the quick change in position left him dizzy. His eyes fell to his hands in his lap. What should he do? Let Eraserhead take care of him and wait for a convenient time to slip away. What if the police were on their way now? Or child services? Maybe this wasn't a trap and Eraserhead truly did just want to help him. If it was though, it didn't seem like he had any intentions of letting Izuku go once he was all healed up. Not after he'd already gone through the trouble of luring Izuku out to an island in the first place. Also, what was going on with the couch? It was vanilla-colored leather and looked like something out of a catalog. Was Eraserhead rich? His lunches looked like something he'd stolen from two alley cats.
"Kid," Eraserhead prompted. His voice was low and determined like he was talking about his next mission.
Izuku didn't look up.
"Midoriya."
—
Izuku had never known the world could turn upside down so quickly.