A Hero(-To-Be) Arrives

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26638735.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia
Relationship: Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi
Character: Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead -
mentioned
Additional Tags: Midoriya Izuku is born a year early, Midoriya Izuku Swears, Midoriya
Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku,
Midoriya Izuku swears... a little, Brotherly Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya
Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Midoriya Izuku is the only student in 2-A
that wasn't expelled, Midoriya Izuku is going to be a hero without a quirk
and anyone that says otherwise can SUCK IT, Midoriya Izuku just might
be picking up Aizawa's adopting habits, except instead of going 'I'm
your dad now' he's 'I'm your older brother now', mentions of bullying but
its nothing explicit, hardly even discussed
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Adventures of 2-A Midoriya Izuku
Collections: Best of Quirkless! Izuku, Just sum of ma fav broccoli boi fic,
One_Shots_Treasure_Box, Bnha titles that were definitely worth my
sleepless nights, Little Red's BNHA Library , Lady's collection of
PERFECT fics., Got 99 problems but these ain't one, Ace's Favorite
FIcs, Finished Fics (bnha), . °.•*.↫ ♡♡↬.*•.° .,
Don't forget, AnoditeOmniaAbuzz
Stats: Published: 2020-09-25 Words: 4,979 Chapters: 1/1

A Hero(-To-Be) Arrives
by Imshookandbi

Summary

Midoriya Izuku is in the middle of patrol when he runs into three boys in an alleyway -- but
it's clear these three aren't friends when he sees one of them on the ground and being
attacked by the other two. And hey, what kind of hero(-in-training) would he be if he didn't
step in?

Or; Izuku saves someone.

Notes

I was originally just gonna leave this to gather dust in my drabble google docs, but I'm too
 proud of it to just leave it be. This is also a lot longer than I thought it would be originally. I
really enjoyed chapter 7 of 'Midoriya-senpai!' by Definitely_an_Alien_pewpew and got a...
tad inspired by the last scene! So I.. .*may have* written my own version of it..?

Inspired by Midoriya-senpai! by Definitely_an_Alien_pewpew

“What the hell is going on here?!” The pair of middle school boys jumped at the new voice, and
even Izuku finds himself startled at how strong it came out. But he didn’t have time to speculate his
sudden confidence as he stared the two teenagers down coldly.

His hands were planted firmly on his hips and the grip he had on the comfortable fabric of his hero
costume was certainly tight enough to rip it. But that hardly mattered when there was an almost
white-hot rage burning in his stomach.

One of the middle schoolers — a lanky blue-skinned boy with gills — sneered at Izuku, and
straightened up. It would’ve been more intimidating, but Izuku was a head taller than him and a
hero student, and so it wasn’t. “What’s it to you?” The gilled boy asked harshly, popping his
knuckles loudly, as if that would do anything.

Izuku has met flies scarier than this kid.

“What’s it to me?” Izuku scoffed, and took a warning step forward. It was to his wonderment that
the two boys hadn’t registered the very obvious hero costume he was wearing. I’m also in the
direct pathway of the sun, Izuku considered, so that might be why. “What’s it to me is that you’re
beating someone up in an alley.”

The second middle schooler — a plain-looking brunet — narrowed his eyes at the hero student.
“He deserves it, he’s a villain. Besides, who do you think you are, a hero?” He said, stressing the
word ‘hero’ mockingly. A condescending smile flitted across the boy’s face.

Izuku took another step forward and allowed his hands to fall to his side, and as he stepped out of
the light of the glaring sun, he activated his capture scarf. The boys balked at the sight, stumbling
backwards at the tendrils of scarf that floated menacingly above his head. “Considering I’m one of
Sir Nighteye’s interns,” Izuku started slowly, a dangerous look on his face that he knew the
younger teens could see, “I damn well better be.”

The boys paled rapidly, but Izuku felt no sympathy for them as he took another step towards them.
He briefly wondered when he’d been able to become so frightening, and then chalked it up to long-
term exposure to Aizawa-sensei and his bullshit. “Now get the fuck out of here,” Izuku snapped,
“before I decide to turn you in for assault.”

“Shit,” the brunet gasped, then grabbed the blue-gilled boy — who appeared to be in some sort of
state of shock — by his elbow and started to drag him back. “Shit! Let’s get out of here, Hamada,
we can’t get this on our record!”

The brunet didn’t wait for the blue-gilled boy’s — Hamada’s — answer before he booked it past
Izuku and out of the alleyway. Hamada seemed to register it only a moment later, because he
shouted after the brunet and raced after him. Izuku watched the two leave with a dark look, and
only after did a few seconds pass that he was sure they were gone, and turned back to the purple-
haired boy. (Part of him considered chasing after them — they did just hurt someone, but there
were more important matters to attend to.)

Said purple-haired boy was now on his knees and silently trying to get back up, but was failing
rather miserably. His arms and legs wobbled precariously as he tried to lift himself off the grimy
cement. He barely made it ten seconds before he collapsed back onto his knees. His head was
bowed and hands clutched tight into fists.

Izuku frowned deeply, letting out a sharp puff of air through his nose (and letting his anger
dissipate with it), he cancelled his scarves. As the fabric settled comfortably onto his shoulders he
walked over and crouched in front of the boy. Slowly, he reached out and placed a gloved hand
onto the middle schooler’s uniformed shoulder. The boy jerked his head up in surprise and Izuku
just managed to duck back before he got slammed in the face.

Wide, startled purple eyes met emerald green and Izuku furrowed his brows, his mouth set in a
thin, worried line. (“Your eyes are the most expressive part about you, Midoriya.” Aizawa told him
during training one day, “Keep them hidden when you’re on the field.”)

After that day Izuku had integrated a pair of reflective goggles to his ever-changing hero costume.
He had them with him today, but he was glad that he hadn’t pulled them down before stepping into
the alley. He wanted those two boys to know exactly how he felt about them.

He wanted the purple-haired boy before him to know how he felt right now, too.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked softly, the sudden tone change jarring compared to the hard, angry
one from before. Izuku grimaced, “What am I saying? Of course you’re not okay, you just got beat
up in an alley. No one would be okay after that.”
The boy didn’t respond, dropping his gaze to the floor instead. The air was tense and solemn, and
despite himself, Izuku thought to lighten the mood. “I’d ask you to stand, but considering what I
just saw, it’s safe to assume that you can’t.”

Oh god if there was a class at Yuuei for social interaction, Izuku needed it desperately. He
grimaced again, “Bad joke, I’m sorry. Here— let me help you up. There’s a park nearby we can go
to, I don’t mind being late back at the agency.” He said, standing up and offering a hand to the
teen. There were much more important things to deal with than being late.

The boy stared at his hand warily, as if the hero-in-training had hidden a hand buzzer under the
glove just so it would shock him once he took it. Izuku waited patiently, offering the purple-haired
teen his most reassuring smile. Something about his smile must’ve convinced the boy, because he
grabbed Izuku’s hand not even a second later.

Purple-boy made a vague noise of surprise when Izuku hoisted him up seamlessly, like he wasn’t
expecting the intern to be so strong. Izuku both mourned and cheered internally at that— it would
make it easier for him to be underestimated in the long run. In one fell swoop the older teen
wrapped the younger’s arm around his shoulders and tucked his other arm under the purple-boy’s
armpit and across his back to help keep him up.

“I’m Dekiru, by the way.” Izuku introduced quietly as the pair of them limped out from the
alleyway. He ignored the stares the two of them were receiving and merely focused on the path
ahead of them, as well as the beaten teen.

Izuku didn’t receive an answer, but he figured it was all well and good. Well— not well and good,
per se, as someone had gotten hurt and there was a part of him that was still demanding retribution,
but he could understand why the boy would be silent.

Despite the lack of answer, he refused to let the two of them be swallowed by awkward silence,
and filled the air with idle chatter as they staggered over to the park. It took them a tad bit longer
than it should’ve for them to arrive, and the sun was casting a fiery glow across the sky by the time
they reached a park bench and collapsed into it.

Immediately Izuku reached for a compartment on his utility belt and pulled out a wet wipe. He held
it up for the boy to see. “May I?” He asked quietly, and after a moment of consideration, the boy
nodded, though he seemed a tad perplexed as he stared at the wet tissue in Izuku’s hand.
The green-haired intern beamed at the younger teen and leaned over to start cleaning his face. At
any other time, he’d feel embarrassed — no, actually, with anyone his age he’d feel embarrassed,
but the kid was younger than him, albeit by only a year, and it was like cleaning Katsuki’s face
after he got into yet another fight. Except this fight was a one-sided beatdown, he thought bitterly,
eyes narrowing slightly.

“You keep baby wipes on your suit?” Came a soft, baffled voice.

Izuku jerked back in surprise, eyes widening minutely at the boy, whose face was scrunched up in
bewilderment. The greenette stared blankly at the boy, still registering that he had actually spoken
to him, and then nodded enthusiastically. “Yep!” he chirped, waving the wipe around like a
handkerchief as if the boy couldn’t already see it. “I’ve found that it’s helped in situations like this,
and it never hurts to have some on your person.”

“...Weird.” The boy said. Izuku snorted and resumed cleaning the grime and blood off his face.

“No, what’s weird is that my homeroom teacher lives in a puffy yellow sleeping bag and eats
nothing but applesauce and jelly packets all day.” He corrected, and briefly paused to wonder if he
should be saying that to a random kid. Eh, he shrugged after a moment and carried on cleaning,
Aizawa already could care less about dignity, it’s not like me telling something so inconsequential
to someone is gonna have dire consequences.

He paused again, actually leaning back to think, and frowned slightly, his eyebrows furrowed. Did
I just jinx myself? He asked himself, his brows pressed together. I hope not, Tsukauchi is already
showing gray hairs early because of all the shenanigans I get into.

He snapped out of his internal musings and sequential spiral of thoughts when someone snapped in
his face. He blinked rapidly and realized the kid was talking to him. “—earth to Dekiru, are you
there?”

Izuku shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet the purple-boy’s, he smiled reassuringly. “Sorry
about that, just had a thought cross my mind.” He said. The teen across from him frowned and
hesitantly lowered his hand, Izuku continued with cleaning.

“It must’ve been some thought then— you were muttering really quickly.”

“Dammit,” Izuku hissed under his breath, he shot the teen an apologetic look when he jumped. “I
thought I got rid of that habit.” He’d been doing so well too. His little admission of annoyance
startled a laugh out of the young teen, and Izuku smiled, internally giving himself a congratulatory
pat on the back for the achievement.

A thought from earlier crossed his mind, and Izuku frowned. He was finally done cleaning the
boy’s face, and so he leaned away and tossed the crumpled little wet wipe into a nearby garbage
can. “I’ve been meaning to ask…” he started as he turned away from the trash, “what did they
mean when those boys called you a villain?”

The light mood that had once saturated the air plummeted and Izuku could see the metaphorical
shutters snap closed in the boy’s eyes. The boy curled into himself, almost on instinct, and Izuku
sighed mentally at the protective brotherly instinct that flared in the shallows of his chest. This has
to stop before it becomes a habit, he thought to himself half-heartedly.

There was a tense silence that followed as the younger teen’s eyes snapped to the ground and he
gritted his teeth. The buzz of insects filled the noise around them as Izuku waited patiently for a
response. Finally, the boy came to a conclusion, because his hunched shoulders relaxed as he
forced a loud, defeated sigh from his body.

“It’s because of my quirk.” He ground out. The boy was staring at his hands, twisting them slowly
and avoiding Izuku’s expectant gaze. “It’s a villain’s quirk.”

Izuku’s rebuttal was swift and curt, “There’s no such thing as a villain’s quirk,” he shot quickly,
“just a villainous person.”

The teen snorted in bitter amusement, glancing up at Izuku with a ‘want a bet?’ look in his eyes.
“You say that now, but wait until you hear what it actually does.” he cast his gaze back to his
hands.

“Bet.” Izuku challenged, his eyes beginning to narrow. “Tell me your quirk and I bet I can come up
with five reasons why it’d be good for heroics.”

The teen looked at Izuku again, wordlessly asking if he was serious. Izuku’s eyes narrowed further,
a small, almost competitive grin on his face. “Okay,” the boy sighed after a moment of debated
silence, he straightened up and leaned against the back of the bench, “you asked for it, not me.”

The hero-in-training wiggled in anticipation, no matter what changed, the one thing that would
always stay the same would be his borderline fanatical interest in quirks. “My quirk is called
Brainwashing,” the purple-haired boy started, an angry smile stretching across his face, “I can
control anyone I want as long as they respond to me.”

Izuku’s mind short-circuited and he stared widely at the boy across from him, who’d looked away
from him the moment he finished talking and instead focused on a rock on the sidewalk. Five long
seconds later and Izuku’s mind caught up to him and he lurched forward to grab the kid’s
shoulders.

“Dude,” he breathed as he pulled the boy to his face, they were almost nose-to-nose when Izuku’s
mouth twisted into a wide, beaming smile and his eyes sparkled, “that’s the coolest fucking thing
I’ve ever heard.”

He barely gave the teen the time to register what he said, nonetheless formulate a response before
Izuku let go of his shoulders and propelled himself off the bench with a breathless, giddy laugh.
“Like, are you kidding me right now? Kid, you’re a goddamn godsend with a quirk like that,” he
said excitedly, hands waving about as he paced back and forth, “imagine how many people you
could help with something like that? Dammit, I knew I should’ve incorporated a mini notebook
into my suit, I so wish I could write this down right now! You could make hostage situations so
much easier! All it takes is one word and boom! So much wasted time is now saved with the
villain incapacitated so quickly! You could use it for info-gathering, recon missions,
interrogations! Oh man, interrogations would run so much smoother with a quirk like that!”

Izuku ran a hand through his hair, undoubtedly mussing it up, and let out another laugh. “Like, holy
shit! Dude! Your ability to de-escalate high-stress situations would be amazing! Even in situations
where it’s not a whole bunch of people on the line— you could prevent someone from jumping!
Oh my god, crowd control! People get so worked up during evacuations that it turns into an
absolute frenzy! With a quirk like yours, we could totally sidestep that entirely, and then people
won’t get caught under crowds and thus won’t get trampled! Can your quirk work on multiple
people at once?” Izuku spun on his heel to face the quirked teen, his smile still in place, “Even if
you can’t— you’re incredible!”

There was a noticeable pause as Izuku stopped to catch his breath, panting quietly after his small
tangent and lack of taking a breath even once during his mini verbal essay. He was still grinning as
he awaited the purple-haired boy’s response.

The teen in question was looking at Izuku with wide, disbelieving eyes, and after a few seconds of
nothing, Izuku’s smile began to fade and he pressed his eyebrows together in worry. The kid then
sniffled loudly, raising a shaky hand to his eyes. He sniffed again, and suddenly there were tears
strolling down his face.

“Woah!” Izuku exclaimed, his heart plummeting to his feet. Was it something I said? He thought
and rushed over, hands flapping as he began to fuss over the teen. “I’m sorry- did I say something
wrong? Did I upset you? I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Anything he was going to say next was abruptly cut off when the teen launched himself at Izuku
and wrapped his arms around the hero-to-be’s chest. Izuku blinked in surprise, and glanced down
at the head of hair that buried itself under his chin. (He silently thanked that sudden growth spurt
he had in the middle of the year, but he had a hunch that he wasn’t done growing just yet.)

“I- I’m sorry,” the kid spoke, choking on the word like he was holding back a sob, “it’s- it’s just..
no one’s ev-ever told me that before.” The boy’s shoulders shook and the front of Izuku’s hero
costume was starting to get wet with tears, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

(His mind briefly flashed to ten months before the entrance exam, where he stood, defeated and
heartbroken, on a rooftop. The words ‘you can’t be a hero’ floating in his head and weighing him
down like marble.)

It wasn’t the same, he knew that. This kid had a quirk, Izuku didn’t. This kid was called a villain,
Izuku was called useless. This kid was told he was incredible by some no-name hero intern, Izuku
was told to give up by the Number One.

And yet, he couldn’t help the feeling that maybe it was his turn to hold the dreams of someone in
his hands. That maybe it was what he would say next that could make or break the boy in front of
him. To crush or encourage that little flame of hope in him.

Izuku kinda feels like the universe just tested him.

Izuku kinda feels like he passed.

Either way, Izuku tentatively wrapped his arms around the teen’s shoulders, hyperaware of any
bruises that might be there, and squeezed him gently. The kid’s crying became a tad more audible,
and his grip on the back of Izuku’s shirt tightened almost unnoticeably.

For a few minutes the two of them just stood there as Izuku offered himself as a pillar for this kid
to cry on. Eventually the sobs died down to sniffles, and then those sniffles turned into the teen
stepping away from Izuku, looking slightly embarrassed.

“S-sorry,” the teen muttered, his eyes still red from tears as he wiped at his face. “I- I didn’t mean
to get your suit all dirty.” he motioned lamely at the front of Izuku’s chest, and the greenette barely
glanced down at it.

“It’s fine,” he assured, giving the teen a soft smile, “besides, if I considered tears as ‘dirty’, then
maybe I shouldn’t be in the hero biz.” He followed his (relatively weak) joke up with a playful
wink, and cheered internally when the purple boy snorted quietly. “I cry more times than I can
count anyways, so it’s no big deal.”

They slipped into a peaceful silence after that, with the younger teen trying to recompose himself
and wipe away any trace that he’d just been crying. Izuku diligently offered him a baby wipe.
(“They work - trust me.”)

Once the teen no longer looked so rumpled (or as unrumpled someone could be after they’d just
been beaten up, saved by a hero intern, tended to by said hero intern, and then cried on said hero
intern) Izuku’s smile faded into a contemplative look, and he glanced about with a frown. “It’s
gotten late… where do you live? I’ll walk you back.”

The teen shook his head, “It’s… it’s fine.” he said, parroting Izuku’s words from earlier. “I don’t
want to keep you anymore than I already have.” He looked slightly ashamed as he said that,
tucking his hands under his armpits and looking away from Izuku.

Izuku shook his head, “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you just because I
decided not to walk you home.” He said, “Just this once, please?”

He watched the teen purse his lips, his eyes narrowing while he internally warred with himself. It
didn’t take long for the teen to sigh heavily (re: dramatically) and hang his head, “Fine.” He
groaned, but it lacked any bite.

The hero-to-be beamed, “Thanks! What’s your name by the way? I can’t keep calling you ‘purple
boy’ or ‘kid’ in my head forever.” He joked, and the two walked along the path. (Er, well, Izuku
walked, the kid just limped.)

Purple boy’s nose scrunched up, “I’m pretty sure you’re only a year older than me.” He said, “But
whatever, I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” He extended his hand to Izuku, who took it happily.

“Midoriya Izuku!”
Shinsou frowned and furrowed his brows, eyes squinting like he vaguely recognized the name, but
wasn’t quite sure where. Izuku watched in amusement and had the fortunate opportunity to see the
moment when Shinsou realized where he heard the name.

“Oh, shit!” Shinsou exclaimed, and his hand flew up to run through his hair while his eyes
widened comically. “You’re the quirkless kid who got second place in the first year Sports
Festival!”

Said quirkless kid let out a peal of light laughter, the sound echoed eerily through the nearly empty
streets. “That I am!” He said, grinning widely. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me sooner!”

A blush dyed the tips of Shinsou’s ears red and he crossed his arms defensively, “In my defense I
was a little preoccupied with something else.” He grumbled, looking away from Izuku.

He had to resist the urge to coo, he looks like an angry little kitten! He thought, then blinked at a
sudden realization he had. Is this how Kayama-sensei feels?

Izuku’s nose scrunched up and he shook his head quickly. Oh no DEFINITELY not.

Izuku brought himself back to attention just as Shinsou perked up, looking very much like a
thought just hit him. He glanced at Izuku slyly— or maybe curiously? Izuku couldn’t quite tell.
“Hey… Midoriya, what Class 1-A like?”

The greenette frowned contemplatively, “I’m not sure if I should be the one answering this, my
schedule is seriously wonked up due to me being the only one in the class.” He answered
truthfully, then tilted his head and hummed, “But…. if I had to summarize it in one word?
Exhausting.” He had the eyebags to prove it.

Izuku’s face screwed up a moment later, on second thought... “I also think Aizawa-sensei’s habits
are rubbing off on me. I spend the most time with him since he’s in the same line of work I want to
go into when I graduate.”

Shinsou looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raising and asking a silent question. Izuku, as if to
accentuate his point, shot the purple teen his own rendition of Aizawa’s ‘It Was A Logical Ruse’
grin. “Underground Heroics.” He clarified.

He had no idea if Shinosu’s wide eyes were because of what he said, or if it was the effect of the
smile, but nonetheless the kid was almost starry-eyed as he skirted to a stop and looked over
Izuku’s hero costume again.

“Wait— oh my god— how did I not notice it before?! Is that a freaking capture scarf?!” Shinsou
exclaimed, his hands flew up to grasp at the roots of his hair. He looked absolutely starstruck and
Izuku could swear he heard the boy’s voice jump a few octaves.

Izuku nearly laughed, but the words capture scarf caught his attention. The capture scarf was
exclusively an Eraserhead item, except Eraserhead was a deeply underground hero. He wasn’t
popularly known and so very few actually knew of his existence, if Shinsou knew about the
capture scarf, that meant he knew about—

“You know about Eraserhead?!” Izuku cried instead of answering.

Shinsou spluttered, “Wh- that doe- that doesn’t answer my question! Midoriya, is that a capture
scarf?!”

“Yes!” Izuku said, laughing slightly in disbelief, “He’s been training me on how to use it since the
beginning of the school year!” He explained, and as if to prove his point, activated the scarf and
shot it towards Shinsou, who wasn’t fast enough to dodge and yipped when the fabric slithered
around his waist and yanked him forward.

“H.. How?!” Shinsou demanded, still wide-eyed as the scarf unraveled around him and went back
to sitting dormantly on Izuku’s shoulders. He was locked onto the grey fabric, eyes big and
unblinking, as if he looked away the scarf would disappear.

Izuku spluttered, “Be- because he’s the—?” Realization hit Izuku like a truck and he hung his head
back and groaned, bringing up his hands to cover his face. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. It’s not
common knowledge that he’s the 1-A homeroom teacher.”

“How could you forget something like that?!” Shinsou hissed, his voice still pitched upwards as he
squinted accusingly at Izuku. He jabbed a finger at him as well. Izuku could almost see the smoke
coming from Shinosu’s head as his brain short-circuited.

The hero-in-training threw his arms up in defense, “I deal with the sarcastic bastard every day!”
Izuku said, but he was still smiling. “Now come on, your place is probably somewhere nearby.”
Shinsou frowned, and the two resumed walking as he digested the new information that had been
shoved onto him.

After a few minutes, Izuku spoke up. “Why’d you ask anyway? Oh— do you want to be a hero?”
Why didn’t I realize sooner? Izuku admonished, frowning to himself. He quickly shook it off and
refocused on Shinsou, who nodded, and suddenly looked shy.

Izuku nudged Shinsou with his elbow, “Hey, what’s that look for? You’ll do great! You’ve been
training for the entrance exam, right?” He asked, staring at the teen with glittering eyes and an
expectant smile. Yeah, the exam was still quite a ways away, but every little bit of training helped!

However, when Shinsou blinked at Izuku, looking like he hadn’t realized he needed to train, Izuku
groaned. “You haven’t, have you?” Shinsou shook his head. “Shinsou-kun! Your quirk is
incredible and powerful, but it’s still non-physical.”

Shinsou frowned, then glanced at his hands, which at some point he started twiddling with. “W..
was I supposed to? Train, I mean?” He asked. Izuku repressed another groan. Despite the fact that
Shinsou’s quirk was a mental one, he still had that mindset that almost all hero hopefuls and
quirked folk had — that they could coast through life on nothing but their quirk.

Izuku glanced around conspiratorially, eyes squinting as he searched the shadows for anyone (or
any hero) that might be watching, before turning back to Shinsou and leaning over to whisper;
“Shinsou, the entrance exam uses robots.” He told him, then straightened up like nothing had
happened. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. Yuuei likes to keep that secret.” Even if they do it terribly,
he thought dryly.

He watched as Shinsou’s eyes widened, before he, too, threw his head back and groaned. “Are you
serious? Talk about biased much?” He was scowling, and Izuku was once again reminded of an
angry kitten.

“They’ll let you bring in support items, but it has to be self made and relatively legal. I can help
you train, too.” He added nonchalantly, almost missing when Shinsou’s head snapped over to him
at lightspeed and the insomniac stared at him.

“Really?”

The greenette nodded, humming in confirmation. The pair stopped in front of a nice-looking house
and Izuku inclined his head to the side. He smiled warmly at Shinsou, and in a moment of careful
consideration, brought his hand up to ruffle the younger teen’s hair. Laughing quietly when the kid
made a defensive noise and swatted at him. “You’ll be a kickass hero, Shinsou-kun, but you can’t
be a hero if you fail the entrance exam.” His eyes, once with a teasing sparkle, softened. “I’ll help
you every step of the way.”

Shinsou’s eyes were suspiciously shiny as he looked up at Izuku. The teen’s smile shifted into a
smirk, “Now head inside, kid, I think we’ve been out late enough.” Izuku ordered playfully.

“I’m only a year younger than you.” Shinsou retorted in a deadpan after letting out a snort. Izuku’s
smirk widened.

“Still younger than me~” He sang. Shinsou rolled his eyes and turned away, reaching over to open
the gate. Izuku was just about to walk away, halfway into turning around, but then jumped and
spun on his heel, startling Shinsou in the process. “Oh! By the way! Here’s my card — don’t look
at me like that, it was Kayama-sensei’s idea — it has my number on it; text me and I’ll get back to
you about when we can start your training once I get back to the agency.”

The card was pale green and laminated, with the words “Midoriya ‘Dekiru’ Izuku” xxx-xxx-xxx in
dark green ink. Then, underneath the number, in smaller text, was “Because this child draws
people to him like moths to a flame.”

The purple teen let out an amused huff and tucked the card into his breast pocket. It was hard to
tell due to the dim lighting of the streetlamps and the night in general, but there was a faint blush
on Izuku’s face. (He was still a little embarrassed about the business cards he had to carry around
because apparently he makes too many friends too quickly?)

“See ya, Dekiru.” Shinsou said, giving the hero-to-be a wave before disappearing through the
gate.

Izuku grinned and twisted on his heel, beginning his march back to Sir Nighteye’s agency. He
didn’t even care if he got an earful when he got back — he helped someone today, and even made
a new friend! He ducked into an alleyway and leapt onto the dumpster pushed against the wall,
then began climbing up the fire escape to the rooftop.

As he leapt from roof to roof, the wind in his ears and the feeling of freedom in his chest, a brief
thought flashed through his head.
 Shinsou Hitoshi wanted to be a hero, Midoriya Izuku was becoming a hero.

Midoriya Izuku never had anyone that believed in him, Shinsou Hitoshi finally had someone who
did.

Midoriya Izuku had to learn alone, Midoriya Izuku is going to make sure Shinsou Hitoshi will
never feel alone again.

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one Crimson Files: File 0924-1118 (Re-Write in Progress) by
DreamerInTheDark

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