The first time they met, Hizashi wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
A scraggly kid with a hood pulled low and a mask hiding most of their features was bracing themself against a dumpster and panting. They looked about ready to throw up.
They were clearly distressed and while he couldn’t see their eyes, he imagined they were blown wide with panic.
Hizashi became a hero to help people so he approached, carefully, slowly, hoping not to startle them.
“Hey there…” They jumped and reeled back so quickly he had to resist the urge to reach out and try to steady them. “Sorry listener! Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright! Need any-” Their grip on the dumpster tightened and loosened all at once. “-help…?” They bolted and Hizashi didn’t move to follow. “Guess not.”
It was at that point he noticed the unconscious body on the ground, a painful bruise already well on its way to a swelling bump.
-
The second time, Hizashi was a little better prepared.
He had reported the incident to the proper departments and was promptly informed that there had been some reports of vigilantism in the area.
He was the first hero to actually see them.
He expected to remain the first sighting, without any repeats. He expected the case to be passed off to some underground hero, maybe Shouta, he was good with reckless kids and Hizashi was fairly certain they were dealing with someone young, young and probably alone.
At any rate, he had promised to keep an eye out.
Hearing someone scream was fairly common, especially at the end of a long after school shift as evening turned to night.
He would later find himself embarrassed by the events that followed.
He ran into the alleyway, ready for anything. Anything except, apparently, the sight of a teenager nailing a man in the head with a staff. His quirk, activated but not unleashed, caught in his throat in a very undignified squeak that had both the vigilante and Hizashi jumping in surprise.
It was a very uncharacteristic loss of control for all that Hizashi’s reputation tended to indicate otherwise. He could feel himself turning bright red with mortification, incredibly grateful all of a sudden that the victim had apparently already run off.
The vigilante froze.
Hizashi froze.
They stared at each other.
“You didn’t hear that.”
They nodded, very slowly and cautiously.
Hizashi nodded slowly back and started to move forward. Before he could take more than a step the vigilante had clambered up a fire escape and out of sight.
They were surprisingly fast.
-
The third time, Hizashi was actually prepared.
Well, as prepared as he could be fighting at least two more people than he could realistically handle by himself.
The beautiful thing about quirks was their great diversity.
It was also a massive pain when that diversity meant one of his assailants had a quirk that worked very well to counteract his own and he could not for the life of him figure out which one it was. Not that it was slowing him down much, a person didn’t spend most of high school friends with Aizawa Shouta and graduate unable to throw a punch.
It was a pain though and definitely slowed him down. He’d called for help but honestly who knew when they would make it.
He didn’t turn at the outraged sound from someone off to his side, he couldn’t afford to, not with the danger he was in.
A well placed punch and several strong kicks had him panting and turning to face the next one… only to find there was no one else.
He turned further to investigate then and found the other two on the ground, the vigilante standing between them.
“Thanks.” It felt like the polite thing to say.
“Sure.” They managed a strangled reply before awkwardly shuffling into an alley and out of sight.
Hizashi tipped his head back and tried to calm his breathing, listening to the distant sound of sirens.
-
The fourth time, Hizashi was honestly getting a little embarrassed.
How many times did the average hero see a vigilante before they even tried to bring them in?
Probably not four goddamn times!
It was yet another alley, although for once it wasn’t directly after or during a fight.
This time it was just an innocent turning of a corner.
“I’m sorry! Didn’t see you there, listener!”
He moved to help them up from where they had fallen only to freeze mid movement as he got a good glance.
It was the vigilante.
The probable teenager that as of yet, only Hizashi and the victims they helped and criminals they took down had seen.
“It's fine!” Their voice cracked nervously, it was honestly kind of cute.
Hizashi shook himself and offered his hand again.
He couldn’t see their face but he knew from the way they glanced between his hand and face their expression was probably incredulous.
He didn’t withdraw, didn’t move forward either.
Finally, after what felt like a very long time, but was probably less than a minute, there was a slightly shaking hand in his own.
It felt like a terrible amount of trust.
Hizashi really didn’t think he deserved it, felt like he should maybe give some lecture about trusting strangers who’re really supposed to be trying to arrest you.
He pulled them up and let their hand go easily when they tried to tug it free. It felt wrong, somehow, to go after them.
So he didn’t.
-
The fifth time was an accident on all sides.
Well, maybe less of an accident than the last time.
Hizashi was wandering the streets, waiting for his shift to officially end and not really doing much of anything.
There was a small noise from an alley nearby, like a bump. Hizashi wasn’t too worried about it but… it never hurt to check and make sure everything was alright.
They were facing away from him this time but he recognized the hoodie. There was a hole in it he noticed, right on the bottom seam, he wondered if it had been torn in a fight.
The teen was kneeling and making coaxing noises at something hiding further in the alleyway. Hizashi moved, trying to make enough noise not to startle either party.
They whirled around as soon as they heard him coming but… inexplicably, bafflingly, didn’t move to run this time.
Oh, they were still tense, terribly tense and ready to bolt but… for whatever reason, they didn’t run.
Hizashi squatted down next to them, made sure to keep them well out of reach of his arms and waited. He didn’t say anything, too afraid to break whatever trust had gotten him this far.
Eventually, the kid went back to coaxing their target out and succeeded in getting the spitting, hissing horrible looking cat out from under the dumpster. The stray didn’t come any closer but the kid rewarded them with a small treat anyway.
Hizashi couldn’t see their face behind the mask but he could see the crinkle of their eyes and he knew they were smiling.
-
The sixth time they met was also the first time they really spoke to each other.
It was an afternoon shift, mostly visibility and the occasional idiot dumb enough to attack in broad daylight. Hizashi enjoyed afternoon shifts, for perhaps the same reason Shouta hated them. There were people around.
Hizashi was always happy to help little kids find their missing pets or give lost tourists directions. It was little and small and perhaps unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but he enjoyed it.
Following the noise into the alley was instinct at this point, chasing off little brats took hardly a thought.
Ignoring ‘helpful’ advice about avoiding villains was even easier.
Not freezing at the sight was a little harder because he knew that hoodie, he recognized the growing rip at the seam, he had caught glimpses of those violet eyes although there had never been so much pure fear in them before.
“Hey there, little listener.” He kept his voice soft and gentle, not angry or triumphant.
They were afraid and hurt and the last thing he wanted was for a very clever little vigilante to run again.
“Hello.” They rasped back, uncurling slightly at his lack of visible recognition.
“You know…” He started cautiously. “I can take a look at that, if you want.” He pointed at the slowly oozing blood dripping down their forehead.
They almost looked surprised when their fingers came back red, they sighed and nodded.
“Sounds good!” Hizashi offered them a hand to stand and this time, this time, there was barely any hesitation.
He guided them over to a somewhat isolated bench, something told him they didn’t want attention.
He gave them a reassuring grin when they hesitantly sat on the edge of the seat and gestured for them to take the hood off.
They hesitated, fingers shaking a little but eventually, eyes flitting back to his face every few seconds, pulled it down.
Hizashi’s first thought was, embarrassingly enough, something along the lines of ‘huh, I don’t know what I expected.’
Their hair was purple too, a very nice purple in Hizashi’s opinion.
“Okay, just give me a second.” He rummaged through his first aid kit and didn’t acknowledge the white knuckled grip on the seat. “There we are!”
He smiled again in victory and congratulated himself at their awkward, uncomfortable smile back. Progress! “Great news, little listener!” He announced after some investigating. “It doesn’t look very deep! It might not even scar!”
They just hummed neutrally.
Not much of a talker but Hizashi was never deterred by a lack of reaction. He could see their grip loosening as he carefully cleaned the injury so he continued on rambling.
“You like cats?” He knew they did and the slight jolt of sharp attention only heightened the impression. “Me too! Not as much as my friend though, I swear he’d adopt every cat he sees if he thought he could manage it.”
He laughed and started bandaging the cut.
“One time, we were walking and he just stopped stock still outside an alleyway. I was like, what’s up yo? And you know what he told me? ‘There’s a cat in there.’ And I told him there was no way he just knew that and you know what?”
He paused for dramatic effect and nearly startled at the quiet voice.
“What?”
He grinned, always pleased with audience participation. The kid looked shocked by their own response so Hizashi barrelled on without acknowledging it further.
“He was right! There was a cat! Horrible little thing too, tried to bite me. Her name’s Miso and she tries to trip me all the time! Mean!” The kid smiled, a little wistful and tired.
“I’d like a cat, someday.” They admitted.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They both let the moment sit, Hizashi finished his work in silence. The kid closed their eyes for a moment before bobbing their head in a little bow and standing.
“Thank you, um-.”
“Anytime.” He meant it, more than the kid knew.
They nodded, a little nervously and awkwardly shuffled down the street, trying very hard not to look like they were running.
Hizashi watched them go.
He closed his eyes and tried very hard not to see tired violet eyes and messy purple hair and hurting teenagers when he did.