Two

"Shouta! I waited this time! It's nine there, right?"

Shouta groaned a little, sitting up, holding his phone close to his ear. The ginger cat on his chest meowed at the sudden movement, jumping off of him to lick at her paw in offense. Shouta rubbed at his eyes, glancing at the clock at the side of the bed, his gaze lingering for a moment at the empty space next to him.

"...It's eight," Shouta mumbled, forcing himself to look away. Beside him, Hizashi's side of the bed was completely untouched, still made, though Shouta had stolen his pillow and had been hugging it against his chest the past couple nights—something that he'd never let Hizashi know in a million years. He rubbed his eyes again, his lips pulling into a small smile, despite being woken up so early, "You were off by an hour."

"Math was never my strong suit," He could hear the fake-pout in Hizashi's voice, his excitement partially giving him away.

"I know," Shouta gave him a small laugh, cradling his phone against his ear and stretching his arms above his head, working the small amount of sleep he'd gotten out of his body. "When are you coming home?"

"A few days! Not even a week, Shouta! I'll be home before you know it!" Hizashi's response was immediate and he sighed, telling Shouta that he wasn't the only lonely, bored one between them. His voice picked back up, though his words were a little slower, "Aw, I think you miss me."

"Of course I miss you," Shouta snorted incredulously, starting to crawl off the bed. The cat meowed again, annoyed that her human heater was leaving, and Shouta rolled his eyes. "I'm bored out of my mind without you here. There's nothing to do. I finished all my grading and lesson plans. There's no work."

Hizashi laughed on the other end, "I told you that you should've come with me. Come on, Shouta! You're an underground hero—can't you just, I don't know, go looking for some criminal to take down? Without having to deal with the media, you can go pretty much anywhere you want, can't you?"

"Well—" Shouta froze, narrowing his eyes a little. Apparently Hizashi knew him too well, because that was exactly what Shouta had been doing. He had a few pages of information that he planned to take down to the precinct nearby that district today, both to ask for more information and to see just how inept they were. He was just a bit embarrassed to admit it, especially after Hizashi had immediately guessed his plans. "—That's… sort of what I have been doing."

"I knew it! You can't go five minutes without working, can you, Shouta?" Hizashi burst out in laughter again and even though he knew it was at his expense, Shouta found himself smiling, too, the amusement seeping into his voice even as he tried to retort back.

"I can stop working to make time for you," Shouta tried, swinging his legs off the bed, yawning again before starting to make his way into the kitchen. "But with you gone and everyone else away and all my work done… I got bored. So I started looking for work back around where I used to live when I was a kid…"

There was a pause on the other line and Shouta heard him take in a soft breath of air, and Shouta knew that it was out of surprise. He couldn't blame Hizashi. It wasn't often that Shouta talked about his childhood or brought up where he used to live. He usually stayed away from that area, focusing on other bad areas, out of personal interest, because being around his old home usually caused bad memories, and Shouta wanted to stay far, far away from having to deal with that. But he'd made an exception for this, given that it was near his old district but not in it, and the villain was targeting kids, something Shouta couldn't let slip.

"Shouta, are you sure you're alright with hunting down someone around there?"

"I'm fine," Shouta waved it off; he knew he would be. This guy was a ametuer, novice villain and he couldn't be very hard to find and take down. He wouldn't have to stray anywhere into his old neighborhood. He'd be alright. "It's on the borderline between districts. There's some villain who goes by Bloodwing who keeps attacking little kids and trying to make a name of himself. I'm gathering some information on him."

On the other end, Hizashi whistled, his voice dropping a bit, "Kids? Geez, what an asshole. What a name, too."

"Yeah, well, he's got big metal wings that he attacks with. I guess it's fitting," Shouta reached the kitchen, two cats immediately meowing at his feet for food. He tried to nudge them out of the way, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the stove before finally opening the cat food cabinet and digging out a scoopful of dry cat food and distributing it in each of the three bowls on the floor. "It seems like he's only attacking kids, which… I know why. I got in contact with a, uh, source about it."

He stood back up, the cats immediately leaving him alone in favor of the food in their bowls, ignoring him. The third bounded out of the bedroom and joined them and Shouta narrowed his eyes in though, deciding to explain himself more before Hizashi asked about his mysterious source.

"Hizashi, I found the weirdest thing last night—" Shouta took a breath before going on, " —Did you know that there's forums for underground heroes?"

"Oh my god," Hizashi breathed on the other line, and Shouta could hear every bit of amusement hidden under his tone. "You found a fan forum. For you. Congratulations, Shouta!"

"Congratulations? I don't think that's the right endearment!" Shouta frowned, his embarrassment seeping into his voice. On the other line, Hizashi just laughed, and Shouta felt his face heating up, burning at the idea of having fans or any attention on him at all.

"Alright, alright. You do deserve it, though. You can say whatever you want, but you can't convince me that you wouldn't be in the top ten if you ever went public. Anyways, how does this tie into that Bloodwing guy?"

"Right—" Shouta leaned against the counter, watching the cats eating their breakfast. Beside him, the kettle began to heat up, and Shouta glanced back at where he'd been working last night, his empty cup of tea, papers, and laptop still sitting on the kotatsu where he'd left them. "I found the forum because I was looking for information about him. There's some kid on there who knows a lot about him and lives in the same district. I got a bunch of information from him. He even had his real name."

"Wow, that's a knowledgeable kid. Impressive," Hizashi whistled again and in the background, Shouta could hear someone calling him in a different language and Hizashi sighed. "Eh, Shouta, I gotta go. My old aunt wants to take me to some tourist trap before I leave. I'll talk to you tonight. Good luck with your villain hunting."

"Thanks," Shouta closed his eyes, savoring the last few moments he got talking to Hizashi before he'd have to go. "I love you. Try not to be too mean to your aunt."

------

Shouta debated for a while, but eventually wound up at the precinct dressed in his normal hero uniform. Part of him was afraid that that kid from before would somehow see him and would then know it was him from last night, but the fact of the matter was that Shouta had made his uniform comfortable enough that he just usually wore it out whenever, and it looked better to the police if he showed up wearing his costume. So Shouta did what he did every other day—he ate breakfast, showered, threw his jumpsuit and capture scarf on, and left the house. Except this time he had a bag slung over his body, containing a file he'd put together with all his information on Bloodwing.

If he just kept his head down and didn't draw any attention to himself, there was no way of the kid finding out about him. That was also, coincidentally, what Shouta did best, and the short walk from the subway to the precinct was uneventful and quiet, the run down streets of the neighborhood near silent around him.

This place was almost indistinguishable from where he'd grown up—with tall, crowded apartment buildings, falling apart shops and restaurants, and a distinct suspenseful quiet as the grey clouds hung in the air. If Shouta didn't know better, he could swear that this place was part of the district he'd lived in as a child. It was pretty hard to shake the idea from his head at all, but Shouta tried to not think about it too much. The walk was short, at least, and Shouta reached the precinct with no problem—only to find himself on the steps of a police station that looked like it could've come right out of his memories.

It was a small, squat building, right next to a rundown noodle shop, looking like almost any other building on the street. Made out of concrete, some of the building front was chipping off, the paint having long peeled and fallen away from it, leaving a hard, depressing-looking building with the name of the neighborhood plastered over it in dull-colored lettering. Everything about it looked unfriendly, and the cold air that bit at Shouta didn't help.

When the wind blew at him, the grey, overcast sky looming overhead, Shouta shivered, and it wasn't because he was cold.

Part of him—a large part of him—knew what he was in for before he stepped inside. But Shouta took a breath and climbed the couple steps up to the heavy, protected door, pulling it open and stepping inside the precinct, immediately having to duck his head into his scarf as a barrage of smoke greeted him, the bell over the door ringing and announcing his presence.

The smoke inside burned his eyes and Shouta coughed, the urge to leave and chase Bloodwing down just growing and growing. The inside looked even more broken down than the outside, with only half of the overhead lights working, the floor cluttered with paperwork and pullen-up tile, the walls dirty and suspiciously stained, and all Shouta could do was look around and sigh, forcing himself to open his eyes again and pull down his scarf enough to face the man at the desk, who didn't even give him the courtesy of putting out his cigar.

"I'm here to discuss a criminal in your area," Shouta kept his voice even and out of politeness, he bowed, though he kept his eyes on the man. He eyed the badge on his lapel and lowered his eyes a bit, biting back his own irritation when he saw that the man was simply leaning back in the chair, his feet up on his desk, not looking like he was doing any sort of work in the least.

The man just looked at him, cocking an eyebrow at him, not saying a word, and Shouta kept himself calm despite the brewing frustration inside of him.

"I called earlier about this. I'm Eraserhead," Shouta stood back up, and didn't say anything more, refusing to give into whatever this man wanted. He waited, a silence falling over them, staring at the deskworker, until the man finally sighed and frowned at him.

"You're that guy," His voice was dripping with animosity, making it completely clear that he didn't want Shouta here. Shouta didn't want to be here, either, but he needed to at least try to work with them if he wanted to do this the right, rational way. He was used to doing things on his own, but it was only rational to go out on his own once he'd exhausted other options. Shouta didn't react, and the man just went on, "Eh, I tried looking you up… You some kinda rookie hero? Can't find you anywhere."

"Underground," Shouta corrected, gritting his teeth together. "Officer."

"I've heard of those. Real weird. Couldn't make it as a real hero or something?"

"With all due respect," There was no respect, much less any respect due. "I'm here to discuss the case that I called about earlier. Nothing else."

Shouta wasn't backing down, but the look the man gave him was concerning. The officer's lips pulled upwards into a small smile, and he cocked his head at Shouta, almost innocently. He knew what was coming, he really did, because he remembered dealing with the exact same thing back as a teenager, whenever he'd tried to do something about the rampant crime in his neighborhood.

"What case? You mentioned some man with metal wings… there's no record of anyone like that in our district. I'm afraid you're either mistaken or you're listening to the rumors of neighborhood children and uncredible news sources."

Shouta openly scowled, having lost the rest of his composure, "...Excuse me? There's been reported attacks by him in this district. Against children."

"No, no, you're mistaken," The officer gave him a fake sigh, and Shouta could swear that his smirk just grew with every single word he said, every lie he uttered. "We do have a problem here in this district, but our problem is with bully kids with villainous quirks. Little villains, one might say! You see, this district has a lot of foster kids… particularly ones with problematic quirks who are teenagers with behavioral problems. A group of them has been bullying the smaller, weaker children and spreading rumors to anyone who will listen. There's no villain here. Just children who need more discipline from their parents."

"That's not true," Shouta's voice was tight. Overhead, the lights flickered a little, the room dim and still stinking of cigar smoke. Everything about this was familiar, and the memories of the past were just making him feel angrier. Between his rage, the stench, and the darkness, the precinct felt burning hot and small. "There's multiple reports of this man. I even have his name."

"Sure you do. Tell me, if there's some guy out there attacking children, why hasn't it made major news sources? Why aren't there any real heroes investigating it? You're just chasing some child's tale," The officer laughed and took another drag off of the cigar. Shouta just narrowed his eyes at him, keeping silent. They both knew the answer—no one cared about this place. There was no need to even say it.

And Shouta knew that this officer knew exactly what Shouta was talking about.

"If you don't want to help me, then that's fine," Shouta measured his words carefully, forcing himself to speak calmly. He had a lot of composure, and it took a lot to get him angry, but the one thing that got him angry was intentional ignorance. "I'll continue investigating on my own. I thought I would give you the chance to cooperate with me on this case, but if you're not willing, then I'll go on my own."

"That's fine with us. Have fun on your witch hunt, hero."

Shouta didn't react, only turning away, taking a few steps towards the door, letting it slam behind him as he left.

The entire ordeal had taken five minutes.

Shouta had come here knowing that this was a possibility and with his experience, it was a large possibility, but that didn't make him any less upset. That man had known exactly what villain Shouta was talking about. It was evident from his smile, the way he'd immediately pushed the blame onto kids, told Shouta that the couple small news sources reporting on it weren't credible—he knew.

Corruption was unfortunately part of what made helping crime ridden places hard. People like that officer, who chose to overlook what was going on, who let criminals run the streets and attack small children. Shouta despised them, and if they weren't going to take care of the problem, then he was.

The cold air outside bit at him again, and Shouta glanced around, still standing on the top step to the precinct. He closed his eyes, exhaling, and quietly, he walked down the steps and immediately ducked into the noodleshop next to the precinct. After all, he'd come here to get a better idea of what he was dealing with and even if the police weren't going to help him, that was what he was going to do.

------

Hizashi—

Hey, how's that tourist trap your aunt took you to? Sounds like something that would bore you to death. I hope it's not too bad.

I took a trip down to the district where that villain I was telling you about earlier operates. They were no help. The deskworker was horrible. I'll have to wash my jumpsuit when I'm home because of the cigar smoke there. Anyways, they claimed to have no idea who this guy is and told me that he's just a 'rumor' kids are spreading. They sound pretty corrupt to me, so I'm just gonna work alone.

Bring me back something from your trip. I want a new cat magnet for my desk at school. I'll talk to you tonight.

Shouta finished up the email just as the waiter brought his meal, setting it down in front of him with a wide smile and a bow. He was the only patron in the shop today, and Shouta just gave a nod, turning back to his laptop as his lunch began to cool off.

The shop was a bit dim, just like the precinct had been, but much less burning hot and more filled with the smells of unique noodle dishes, wafting into the dining area from the open window leading to the kitchen. Shouta sat towards the back, facing the glass storefront, curiously glancing up to watch out the window every so often, just to find the streets as empty as ever with only the occasional car passing by.

He wasn't too sure where to start on his search. He had a routine down for hunting down individual criminals, even without police cooperation. That included finding a place to start physically looking for them. The district wasn't huge, but Shouta wasn't sure where to even start monitoring.

—Actually, no, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.

Last night, Hitoshi had stated that Tsubasa Kinzoku—Bloodwing—had previously been a foster care kid, hence why Hitoshi had known so much about him. He'd gotten his start as a villain apparently after being kicked out of foster care, the jealousy of having a home and foster family probably being his motive for attacking only children. Shouta honestly had no reason to doubt what Hitoshi had told him and from the sound of it, someone else in his household had known Tsubasa, meaning that they probably lived near where Tsubasa's previous foster home had been.

And if Bloodwing was attacking foster kids because of his own experiences… it was most logical that he'd stick around near the place that had kicked him out, out of some sort of revenge tactic. That was where he planned to start, except Shouta had no idea where his old foster home was and the police were no help. It also wasn't like Shouta could go around asking about some kid named Hitoshi. Even if the spelling wasn't, it was a common name, and Shouta didn't want to blow his cover, as well.

He also couldn't really ask the kid what his address was, given that he was an almost thirty year old man chatting with a teenager. He'd have to either scout around on his own or try to gather more information online. Though the officer had clearly been corrupt and had disliked him, Shouta did believe him in that there were a lot of foster homes in this district, and that would make finding Tsubasa's old home even harder without any additional information.

Really, there was nothing to lose right now. Shouta was sitting in a noodle shop waiting for his lunch to cool down with his laptop already open. There was no harm in logging onto that forum again and checking things out.

This time, though, the chat room was a bit fuller. At the very least, though, Mindjack was on, and Shouta took his chance.

Mindjack: I mean, have you seen the footage from two years ago? It's sort of blurry, but you can totally see him there. I'll link it to you.

Mindjack: Hey, it's the new guy.

RedEyes92: Wait, this is the dude you were chatting with last night?

MindJack: Yeah.

RedEyes92: He's super old.

MindJack: Did your nursing home let you have some computer time again???

AizawaShouta: No, I'm clearly too old to know how to use a computer.

MindJack: Haha.

MindJack: Sorry for running off last night. I got in trouble for being up so late.

Eraserhead: You really need to stop getting in trouble so much.

Shouta stared in shock at the username, having it thrown in his face once more that some of this forum focused on him. He'd apparently found the person who'd taken his hero name as a username and has subsequently forced Shouta to think up something different, given that that was one of the first ones he'd tried.

MindJack: What are they gonna do? MOVE ME again?

MindJack: What a shame! Not like it's happened ALL MY LIFE!

Eraserhead: If you don't behave, you really are going to be moved. How will you go to UA then?

Shouta was immediately distracted by the mention of UA.

Hitoshi wanted to go to UA…?

AizawaShouta: You're trying to go to UA?

MindJack: Uh.

MindJack: I guess trying is the right word.

MindJack: I'm trying to be realistic about it. Don't think they're gonna let me in with my quirk.

AizawaShouta: Why do you think that? They take people with psychological quirks.

AizawaShouta: So I've heard.

MindJack: Lol, do you know what their entrance test is like?

MindJack: It's been the same for a few years. I'll never pass it.

With every word he read from this kid, he was getting more and more convinced that he was a lot like Shouta at that age. Trying to go to UA without a physical quirk, convinced that he'd never get in, trying to be realistic when his dreams were on the line… living in a district close to where Shouta had, growing up without many heroes to look up to—it all reminded him a lot of himself.

AizawaShouta: You might not get into the hero course right away, but I've heard you can move into it.

MindJack: Where are you hearing that from?

RedEye92: What, do you work there or something? Can you imagine some old guy teaching a bunch of heroes.

AizawaShouta: I know some people who work there. It's pretty common.

MindJack: Seriously?

MindJack: There's actually a way for someone like me to get into the hero course?

AizawaShouta: It won't be easy, but as long as you train and work hard, there's no reason you can't be a hero.

Eraserhead: Hitoshi, I looked up that video from earlier and didn't see what you're talking about.

The conversation quickly turned to the others agreeing with the Eraserhead person, talking about some video that Shouta was afraid to look up out of fear that he'd see himself. Soon, though, a new chat opened up, notifying him that Hitoshi had opened a private chat with him, a single message showing up on Shouta's screen, his lips twitching into a small, gentle smile as he read it.

MindJack: You really think I can be a hero???

Shouta hadn't been lying earlier. Hitoshi's quirk really wasn't that different from his own in technical terms. Mind control took control over something away from a person and was an entirely psychological, nonphysical quirk. Shouta himself hadn't been in the hero course upon getting into school and had only moved there after the sports festival in his first year. If he could do it, so could anyone with a nonphysical work. It was harder work, yes, and more training, but realistically, it was completely possible.

AizawaShouta: Sure.

AizawaShouta: As long as you put in all the effort you can. There's no reason you can't be. It's hard work, but if you have your heart in the right place, logically, you can do it.

AizawaShouta: Make sure you follow through, though. There's nothing worse than having to stop halfway.

MindJack: Yeah, I agree.

MindJack: I've wanted to be a hero my whole life. Everyone says I can't do it because of my quirk.

AizawaShouta: That's not true.

MindJack: I know, but people don't like quirks like mine. It's scary.

AizawaShouta: They're wrong.

AizawaShouta: A quirk doesn't make someone a villain. A quirk doesn't make someone anything.

AizawaShouta: If you want to be a hero, you can't help what the heart desires.

Shouta waited a few moments. Hitoshi didn't immediately respond. Shouta glanced down at his noodles, finding that they'd cooled off so that they were no longer steaming. Still, he didn't touch them quite yet, instead waiting for a response. He was patient and eventually, Hitoshi did respond.

MindJack: I can pretty easily get into the GenEd class. If I can really work my way up from there… I could train to get into the hero class.

MindJack: Do you think Eraserhead went to UA?

Shouta let out a small laugh at that.

AizawaShouta: There's a good chance he did.

He stirred his noodles and checked his email again, finding a response from Hizashi had come in. He didn't immediately open it, trying to bring himself back to why he was chatting with this kid in the first place.

MindJack: I wanna go to the same place he did. UA is perfect.

AizawaShouta: It's a good school.

AizawaShouta: The heroics teacher can be mean, though.

AizawaShouta: So I've heard.

MindJack: I'll keep that in mind, lol.

AizawaShouta: Speaking of heroes, I passed by your district today while out. I remembered it from that article on BloodWing.

MindJack: And how'd you like my shithole neighborhood???

AizawaShouta: Reminds me a lot of where I grew up.

MindJack: Seriously? Jeez, sorry to hear about that. I wouldn't wish this place on anyone.

MindJack: There were 2 attacks last night. Did you hear about it?

MindJack: It was right by my apartment building. For once I'm glad that my curfew is so early.

AizawaShouta: That sounds scary.

He pulled up another window, quickly searching for a hospital in the district. Quickly, he found exactly what he was looking for—a small emergency center with a couple ambulances. If there'd been an ambulance called for an attack, then Shouta could use his status as a hero to get at least the general area of where the attack was. He wrote down the address and phone number, deciding to try there next and then make an attempt to scope out the area if the medical staff were willing to cooperate with him.

MindJack: I'm not scared.

MindJack: All the other kids who live with me are, though.

MindJack: I don't know what to do.

AizawaShouta: You shouldn't do anything. You're a kid.

MindJack: I just told you that I want to be a hero.

AizawaShouta: But right now, you're a kid. You'll get in a lot of trouble with the law if you do anything.

MindJack: No one else is doing anything.

AizawaShouta: Just wait a couple days, okay?

AizawaShouta: I have to go for now.

MindJack: Fine. But no one's going to do anything.

MindJack: I'll talk to you later.

With that, Shouta logged out, closed his computer, and took a couple minutes to eat his lunch.

An odd feeling lingered in him, from the things the kid had said to him. No one else was going to help. He was right—no one else was going to. Shouta was going to take Bloodwing down, but there was no way he could even hint at that without completely blowing his cover. He had to take care of this soon, or Shouta was getting the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Hours later, Shouta boarded a subway car, finding the compartment nearly empty, giving him enough room to set his bag down on an empty seat and look out the windows, the sun setting over the tops of apartment buildings and more squat shops. Only blocks away was the place Shouta had grown up in, close enough that Shouta swore he could see one of the buildings he'd passed by on his way to elementary school every day. Overhead, the sky was bathed in dull pinks and blues, still covered in clouds that threatened to burst with rain.

The subway took off, and Shouta was relieved to be getting out of this district and away from the place he'd grown up. He let himself breathe a sigh of content and glanced down, finally opening his email from Hizashi.

Shouta—

You know me too well! It was SO BORING. I really thought I was gonna DIE. I guess now I know how you feel back at home. About those cat magnets… well, I already got you four of them. Plus some other stuff. They were supposed to be surprises! You still have to act surprised.

I hope everything went okay in that district. You said it's pretty close to where you used to live, right? Please be careful. That officer sounds like an asshole, by the way. I would've blown his ears out. I think it's good that you have a lot more self control for me.

I'll call you tonight! Be prepared to tell me all about your adventure to find that villain today!

Shouta smiled to himself, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jumpsuit, sighing and leaning his head against the window of the subway car. It'd been a busy day. The medical staff had been more than willing to cooperate, some of the nurses expressing gratitude and telling Shouta about how many injured kids they'd had to see. Shouta had the location of all the previous attacks and from that, had been able to find that Bloodwing predictably mostly attacked in one spot, on one street. He'd gone there, written notes and taken photos, and Shouta was willing to move onto the next step—actually planning his takedown.

For now, though, he just rested, closing his eyes and listening to the rattling of the subway taking him back home.