Shouta would, occasionally, find himself wandering the city. It wasn’t a habit, per se, but it did get him out of the apartment.
His friends liked to mention how proud they were when he mentioned going out, as if he ever did anything beyond walking and ordering lunch at whatever restaurant looked like it wasn’t inclined to poison him.
Shouta probably could have done without so much sun.
Nemuri definitely would have mocked him for that thought.
He sighed and continued his wanderings, making his way along the outskirts of a small park.
Shouta froze at the loud, shrill sound of children’s voices.
If there was anything that could make his headache even worse.
He had no faith that these were anything less than little brats.
Shouta turned on his heel, ready to detour as far from those voices as possible, let their parents deal with them. He hadn’t made it two steps before he was turning back again.
That was a cry of pain.
Sure, their parents could probably deal with a skinned knee but… Shouta hadn’t survived this long in the underground circuit by assuming the best case scenario.
Shouta’s first thought was, inexplicably, where were these goddamn kids' parents?
His second thought was, perhaps more helpfully, that is not a kid tripping over their own feet.
There was a boy with green hair on the ground, obviously shoved hard. A small group of brats menacing him, a blonde at the front.
He was crying but not backing down.
Shouta realized why a moment later, there was an even smaller child behind him.
Shouta didn’t get a good look at them before they scrambled up and ran for the hills, or more ideally, their parents.
He’d seen enough.
“Hey! What do you kids think you’re doing?” He kept his voice low, the demanding tone of a teacher with all day to wait and nothing better to do.
A few of the kids, little lackeys, jumped and started to stutter some sort of explanation on reflex.
Shouta raised an eyebrow, doing his best to project just how unimpressed he was with their lame excuses.
“What’s it to you!? Huh?” There’s the troublemaker. “You think you’re hot stuff? Didn’t your mom ever tell you to mind your own business?”
Shouta just smiled.
The lackeys started murmuring to themselves.
“You know, I heard there’s this new ice cream stand down the street…”
Shouta thought he heard one of them mention something about a serial killer. Well, it wasn’t like he was trying to make a good impression. They didn’t pay his salary.
The troublemaker wasn’t done though, he took a step forward, little pops of light and sound coming from his hands.
Was Shouta supposed to be impressed?
Honestly, kids these days.
He let his own quirk flash for a moment, just to freak him out a little.
He regretted it immediately, his eyes were so dry. He rubbed them, it did nothing to soothe the irritating pain.
“Hey!” One of the lackeys piped up. “You used your quirk! That’s illegal!”
Oh, so they weren’t stupid.
“I have a license.” No need to mention what kind of license.
“Whatever, freak.” The troublemaker did his best impression of an unintimidated punk and called his squad off with a series of curses that might even be slightly impressive in around five years.
Shouta sighed once they were out of sight, it seemed children hadn’t gotten any better since he was young.
He turned, ready to head home.
The green kid was still there.
They made eye contact.
The kid sniffed, wiping at his nose with a sleeve.
Gross.
“Um, uh, th-thanks.”
“No problem.”
Shouta sighed again and squatted down in front of him.
“Are you… alright?” He tried. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
He shook his head.
Shouta wasn’t buying it but it wasn’t exactly his job to argue with children.
“Alright, your parents around?”
This was apparently the point where the kid realized he was talking to a scruffy looking stranger who may or may not be a serial killer. His eyes widened and he started glancing around nervously.
What a pain.
Shouta pulled his license out and handed it over, that usually helped.
The kid looked it over with an intensity Shouta wasn’t expecting and when he finally handed it back there were… stars? In his eyes? It was probably his quirk, kids tended to lose control after unsettling experiences.
“Wow…” That was… a lot of excitement.
Quirk related, had to be.
“So… kid, your parents…”
“Oh! You don’t n-need to worry Er-Eraserhead, s-sir. I’ll be-, It’s not f-far!”
“Kid...” He started to sigh, one hand flying up to massage his pained brow.
He heard shuffling and a pained hiss.
By the time he managed to look up the kid was gone.
Well, so much for that.
Shouta started his walk home, putting the incident from his mind.
-
He’d successfully forgotten about the kid by the end of the week, it wasn’t like it was the most exciting incident he’d had that day.
No, that dubious honor had gone to the honest to goodness dumbest bank robber of Shouta’s career.
Shouta still wasn’t sure what the glitter had been about, it certainly hadn’t stopped anyone from tackling him.
The point was, Shouta wasn’t thinking about the little green haired kid when he temporarily took over an evening patrol as a favor to the borderline underground hero who operated closer to the park where they’d met than Shouta normally did.
He should have been.
Instead, he was mostly thinking about how annoying it was that they hadn’t managed to cure the stomach flu yet.
The first couple nights were uneventful.
The third night though? Well, the third night took an odd turn.
It was still early in the evening, light enough that it left Shouta feeling slightly exposed.
He spotted the trouble easily enough, a rather large woman doing her best attempt at stealing an entire ATM. Looked like a minor strength enhancement of some sort. Shouta tilted his head from his spot above the robbery, unskilled in that she obviously hadn’t actually known her limits before she tried lifting her haul.
She cursed and dropped the ATM.
Shouta had seen enough.
He jumped down. It could barely be called a fight.
He leaned against the remains of the ATM to call in for a pickup.
“Wow.”
Shouta’s head snapped up at the quiet sound and he slipped a hand back to his capture weapon.
It was a kid.
A very green kid.
A very familiar green kid.
A very familiar green kid with a bruise on his face.
He sighed and deliberately relaxed.
“Hey kid.”
“H-hi, Eraserhead.” He returned sheepishly.
“They still giving you shit?” Shouta gestured absently to his face.
“Um, uh, y-yeah. I just-,” he lightly kicked a pebble. “I just wish they weren’t so mean.” He whispered.
Shouta hummed and considered his response.
“Anyway, um, I didn’t know-, uh, you p-patrol around h-here?” The kid redirected.
Shouta took the distraction for what it was, a quiet request to move on.
“Sometimes.” It was about as close to an answer Shouta was ever willing to give. “So, kid, your parents…”
“Oh no! S-sorry Eraserhead, I didn’t realize it was-, was so l-late.” With that, the kid dipped in a quick bow and raced off.
Shouta frowned and tipped his head back.
He was still staring at the sky when the police finally showed up.
-
Twice was a coincidence.
Three times was a pattern.
Shouta was sitting on a closed dumpster, ignoring the unconscious body on the ground and debating whether or not to put in some eye drops when he heard the tell-tale scrape of movement from the street.
“Kid…”
He had a notebook out this time.
Shouta could only guess what he was scribbling away in the well worn pages.
“Kid…” He tried a little louder.
No response.
“Kid!”
He startled, looking a little like a spooked rabbit.
No visible injuries this time. Shouta did not almost sigh with relief. He did not.
“Yes?”
“Shouldn’t you be at home? Doing homework?” He bit back a comment about friends, he didn’t think it would be appreciated.
“No? It’s summer break?” The kid tilted his head. It was, unfortunately, very cute.
Shouta sighed.
“C-can I ask you a question?” A hesitant voice asked.
“Sure, kid, but only if I get to ask one back.”
His little face scrunched up, clearly torn between his desire for answers and fear of a trap.
“Fine.”
Shouta grinned and waved a hand with a flourish to show he was ready and waiting.
“Y-you first.”
“Alright,” Shouta considered for a moment before making his decision. “What’s your name?”
“...Izuku.”
Shouta made an encouraging gesture but Izuku only narrowed his eyes in challenge.
“You didn’t say which name.”
He sighed, kids these days. “Fair enough, ask your question.”
“Do you think-, Can-,” Shouta watched as he faltered, nerves making themselves known in the moment. “Um, why-, why does your capture weapon float like that?” He cringed at the end, it clearly wasn’t the question he’d meant to ask.
Shouta didn’t comment, they’d work on it.
Wait, they? Who’s they?
-
“What are you doing kid?”
The honest to god shriek was admittedly a little funny, Shouta wasn’t even that quiet that time.
“Er-Eraserhead!”
“That’s me.” He grinned down at the startled kid.
“I’m just-, I’m-” he rallied. “I don’t th-think that’s an-any of your b-business.”
Shouta raised an amused eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think it’s any of my business that you, an unsupervised child-,” He ignored the answering squawk that Izuku was not a child. “I’ll believe that when I have a full name, don’t try to distract me. -have been following me for the last three blocks?”
“F-four.”
“What was that?” Shouta challenged.
“Four blocks, five if you count the l-last one since that’s where I l-lost you.”
“So you admit you’ve been following me.” He smirked.
Izuku pouted, actually pouted.
“Th-that’s not f-fair.”
“Life’s not fair.”
That got Shouta a scowl.
-
“You really should tell someone about this.” Shouta tried, carefully finishing up the final touches on the bandages.
At least it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in a week.
“Tried that.” Izuku didn’t wince, just stared blankly at his wrapped hand.
“Didn’t help?” Shouta hummed, carefully neutral.
“She tried, she really d-did, went to the ad-administration and everything. It just… it just doesn’t really work if she’s the only one who cares.” He shrugged.
Shouta sighed, there wasn’t really much he could say to that.
Not when he remembered principals and teachers politely nodding to his own parents and promising empty platitudes that only ever made things worse.
Not when the kid clearly didn't trust him to help.
So, he didn’t really say anything for a bit.
“You want to get some ice cream, kid?”
“Y-yeah.”
-
Shouta didn’t say anything during the phone call.
All the other hero really wanted was a few vaguely affirmative noises anyway.
Shouta listened as he rambled on about his journey from stomach flu to broken leg to strep throat and almost wished he’d catch pink eye next.
It wasn’t a kind thought but Shouta found his heart squeezing in his chest anyway.
Shouta’s normal patrol route was objectively better.
It fit his schedule better, was closer to his apartment, he didn’t have to pull his license out for every first responder that came on the scene.
It didn’t have a child recklessly following him around almost every evening with no guardian in sight.
It was just… he was going to miss him.
That was the trouble.
-
“Kid…” Shouta knew it came out more than a little exasperated this time.
Izuku just tilted his head innocently.
Brat.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Shouta hadn’t liked it before, when Izuku was wandering what was presumably his own neighborhood in the fading evening light.
It made his breath freeze in his lungs and his heart skip a beat to see Izuku here. At least two subway stops away from his home long after dark, wandering alleys he definitely wasn’t familiar with.
“Izuku, this isn’t safe. You have to go home.” He hissed.
His breath hitched and Shouta almost worried he was going to cry. Instead, he took a deep, grounding breath.
“Do you think-, Can I-, Do you think a quirkless person can be a hero?”
Shouta blinked, it came out so fast he almost missed it. He took in the kid’s posture, defensive and wary, preparing for pain that Shouta certainly wouldn’t cause.
That… would explain a few things.
He leaned back slightly and closed his eyes, not generally a good practice but a risk he was willing to take to get his words right.
If it was another child, one he hadn’t met defending a little kid from bullies, one he hadn’t caught following him and scribbling notes about techniques and quirk science, he might have rolled his eyes at the sight of yet another child blindly dead set on the same career as every other reckless tween and teen in the country. Heroics was not a cool or exciting or fun career.
It could be some of those things, occasionally, but most of the time it was long hours and endless paperwork and aching muscles.
As it was, Shouta could only think of how kind he would be.
“I think…” His words seemed to echo loudly in the space between them. “I think-” He paused, switching tactics. “Why do you want to be a hero Izuku?” He asked softly.
“That isn’t an answer.” Izuku choked out, still dry eyed and so brave.
Shouta waited, no sudden movements or loud noises.
“I want to help people.” He barely heard it, as quiet as it came out.
Shouta opened his mouth only to close it again as he went on.
“I want people to f-feel safe, everyone, not j-just people with quirks that are useful and c-cool. I know-, I know I d-don’t have to be a hero for th-that but-”
“But it’s what you want.” Shouta finished for him.
“Y-yeah.”
“I think-” Shouta carefully, so carefully, rested a hand in his curls and leaned down to look him in the eye. “I think you would make an amazing hero, Izuku.”
He wasn’t surprised when Izuku finally burst into tears.
He was thrown by the tangle of limbs suddenly clinging to him in a desperate hug.
Shouta just sighed with a fondness that didn’t even surprise him that much anymore and carded gently through fluffy hair.