Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a quiet afternoon when Izuku’s phone buzzes.

He’s curled up on the common room couch, half-listening to the faint hum of conversation and the occasional flip of textbook pages nearby. Most of the class is either out or studying in small groups, and the mood is calm.

The message comes from an unfamiliar account. There’s a "block" option at the top of the screen, but he doesn’t press it. Not right away. Curiosity wins out.

It’s just a video. No caption, no context. Frowning, he instinctively mutes the audio—just in case—and taps to play. A few seconds in, his heart skips a beat. The screen shakes in his hands.

"No way," he breathes.

He blinks, hoping the image will disappear. It doesn’t. His fingers tighten around the phone.

This can’t be what it looks like.

There aren’t many people around, but he suddenly feels like every pair of eyes in the room is on him. The video keeps playing. His pulse is hammering in his ears, his chest tight. He flinches hard when a hand lands on his shoulder. With a jolt, he pulls away, and his phone slips through his fingers. It hits the carpet with a soft thud. Izuku scrambles after it, practically dropping to the floor. He turns off the screen before picking it up, heart still racing.

"Midoriya?" Uraraka's voice is tentative. She’s standing behind the couch, arm still half-extended. Her expression is frozen, uncertain. She clearly didn’t mean to startle him like that.

Izuku forces a chuckle as he rises, shoving the phone into the pocket of his hoodie. "Sorry. You just surprised me."

"Startled people don’t fall off couches," Todoroki remarks from his seat, eyes narrowing slightly.

Izuku doesn’t have a good reply for that, so he just smiles weakly.

"It’s fine, Deku!" Uraraka jumps in quickly, trying to smooth over the awkward moment. "I just wanted to ask you something about the math homework—the one with the graph. But if now’s not a good time…"

"No, no, it’s fine!" He waves his hands a little too quickly. "Happy to help!"

He moves to follow her to the study desk, acutely aware of the glances following him across the room. If they knew what he just saw—if they knew what was on that video—they wouldn’t just be glancing.

"You sure you’re okay, ribbit?" Tsuyu asks, watching him from her seat.

"Yeah. I promise. You can all go back to what you were doing," he says, trying to sound breezy. "Really, I’m fine."

The tension gradually lifts. The others return to their conversations and textbooks. Izuku exhales in relief, but the unease gnaws at him for the rest of their study

Luckily, he manages to keep his emotions at bay until he’s back in his dorm room. He didn’t act perfectly normal – his friends’ occasional concerned and questioning glances are proof of that – but he didn’t behave abnormally enough for anyone to address it. He’s glad that they were the only ones who decided to have a late night study session, otherwise this would’ve been a lot more disastrous. Because even though Izuku likes every single one of his classmates, he knows that not everyone is as considerate of his feelings as his closest friends are. He’s grateful to have them.

And Uraraka figured out how to solve the exercise herself after he explained the theory a bit. That would normally make Izuku smile, but the moment he locks his door, he can’t stop himself from frantically turning on his phone.

It’s not real. He must have been hallucinating. Why does his phone take so long to turn on? He hopes the fall didn’t break it. The screen doesn’t seem cracked and even if it was, he has a screen protect-

His breath hitches when he sees the smiling faces of him and his friends that are part of his Lock Screen wallpaper. He can’t really be relieved because this means that he can check to see if the video really exists. He really hopes it doesn’t. He sits down at his desk and unlocks his phone with shaking fingers.

He’s exhausted. The only reason why they studied so late was because his amazing friends waited for him to finish his training. He was exhausted. His muscles still ache, even while sitting on the  comfortable pillow of his chair. He could’ve just imagined it.

But he sees the unknown account after scrolling down a bit through his messages.

He taps on it and, and there’s a video. But there’s a message too. Izuku stops breathing.

‘I know your secret.’ It says.

Maybe it’s still something else – he presses play on the video and turns up the volume.

“G-guys!” Izuku winces at the high-pitched, shaky voice. “W- we can talk about th-this, r-right?” The boy smiles and flinches when his back hits the wall, a look of trepidation on his face. The other kids surrounding him approach further. There’s seven of them, too many - even if the boy wasn’t weak and small, even if he had a quirk, he couldn’t fight them all.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Deku!” Kacchan says. His back is to the camera, but his voice is  distinctive enough for Izuku to recognize it anywhere, even if he didn’t remember this happening. He lets off an explosion with his palm which makes younger Izuku flinch and the other six middle schoolers snicker. Kacchan only scoffs.

“You’re pathetic! You’re scared of the sound of a fucking explosion. You’re fucking useless!”

“Ka-kacchan I –“

“Stop talking about heroes!” The taller boy snarls, placing both his hands on younger Izuku’s shoulders. His uniform starts to smoke. Younger Izuku starts shaking. Kacchan starts unbuttoning izuku’s gakuran while the quirkless kid tries to hug the clothing to himself. That is stopped by the two laughing boys closest to him, Takahashi and Uchida. They grab one arm each and hold them against the wall.

Younger Izuku struggles a bit but stops fighting back after a few tries to free himself, his only movement is the shaking of his entire body. The boys’ grips must be the only thing holding the weak boy upright. And Izuku doesn’t remember anything aside from his fear and desperation, but younger Izuku sure looks like he’s about to collapse. He…he really looks pathetic.

“You don’t even fight back!” Harada says, delighted at younger izuku’s behavior, as if it proves everything those other boys ever said about him. Maybe it does.

Younger Izuku is even smaller than he remembers. His hunched position sure doesn’t help, but even compared to the seven other kids, Izuku looks like a small child with a rail thin body that makes his chubby bobblehead seem even more unnaturally big.

Kacchan finishes unbuttoning younger Izuku’s black jacket. He aggressively pushes it down izuku’s shoulders, eliciting a yelp and constricting Izuku’s movements even further. With nothing covering them but Izuku’s sleeveless undershirt, his shaking shoulders are even more obvious.

He has a few older scars and some fading bruises on the visible skin of his upper arms. But compared to how he usually looked in middle school, Izuku thinks his skin is unblemished. Not for long though.

“Pl-please.” Izuku says shakily, looking up at Kacchan, in the eyes if Izuku remembers correctly. Izuku’s voice is weak and quiet. “D-don’t do this. I’m sorry about the presenta-“

Kacchan places both his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, cutting him off. He tries to break free again, but it’s futile; he’s too weak. “Shut up, damn nerd!”

There’s smoke coming from beneath Kacchan’s hands and Izuku whimpers, fighting weakly against the hold, but that aggravates the pain, Izuku remembers, and makes the burnt area larger in the end. He bites his lip instead and looks pleadingly at Kacchan and then around at each of the other six kids. But they just laugh at him even more, making fun of the tears streaming down his cheeks and the pathetic expression on his face.

Younger Izuku stops looking at them after a while, staring at a spot on the ground, his whimpers becoming sobs he can’t hold back.

Because it hurts, Izuku still remembers how much it hurts. His own hands are on his shoulders, arms crossed over his chest. The scars are under his shirt. Some of the scarring is hidden beneath other scarring made by a quirk he can’t control, but it’s still there. It won’t ever go away.

When Kacchan is satisfied, he releases Izuku, which tears more of his skin off and makes Izuku scream. Takahashi and Ushida also release their hold on him. As expected, he falls to the ground immediately, sobbing louder which increases the volume of the other kids’ laughter.

Kacchan goes to the sink in the back of the classroom and washes his hands. This time, half of his face is visible and it shows disgust, and an anger that still hasn’t been let out enough on Izuku. Some of the others kick at Izuku, who’s curled up in a tight ball that doesn’t help much because he will have fresh, dark colored bruises in addition to the burns when he looks at himself in the mirror at home.

“What is going on here?”

His middle school arts’ teacher doesn’t appear in the video – only her voice can be heard. She seems to be standing directly beneath the device recording this.

“O-oh, Miss Sato!” Harada barely sounds surprised as he turns around. Izuku doesn’t uncurl from his stupid, useless balled-up position, but he looks up hesitantly -  at the teacher, Izuku remembers. Younger Izuku averts his gaze again, letting his head hang in defeat, lifting a hand to smother the sound of his hiccuping. Because, this teacher won’t help. “De- Midoriya attacked us because he was angry about his grade. Especially Bakugo…” Kacchan scoffs, arms crossed. There’s still blood in the sink. “He couldn’t do much damage, of course!” Hanada adds hastily. “But Bakugo still had to defend himself.”

“I see.” Miss Sato says in understanding, voice sweet and concerned. “You should all go get checked out by the nurse.” The boys start walking away, exchanging smug looks and smirking at Izuku’s hunched form.

“Midoriya!” The teacher snaps once they’re gone, voice full of her dislike for him. Younger Izuku flinches, hard. “Detention for the rest of the month. Report to Mr. Ushida tomorrow!” Izuku flinches. Younger Izuku flinches too, but nods his head anyway. “You aren’t in kindergarten anymore, answer verbally!”

“Yes, M’am.” His voice is hoarse from all the crying.

“This is your last warning.” She says coldly, all her sweetness gone. “If anything like this happens again you’ll go straight to the principal.”

“Y-yes, Miss Sato.”

“Now hurry up and get out of my sight. School is long over.”

Izuku scrambles to his feet, almost falling several times and hurries out of the classroom before she can reconsider sending him to the principal.

Izuku’s phone screen’s black now, but he remembers putting on the uniform once the cold winter air hit his skin. The fabric made the pain worse, but it covered up the wounds. He remembers hurrying home and breaking down completely in the empty apartment. His mom didn’t arrive home until late at night so he had time to cry as much as he wanted.

He remembers wishing for a quirk, not to become a hero, but to maybe not be hated that much. But he also remembers thinking that if everyone, even his teachers, could see how bad he was, maybe it wasn’t just because he was quirkless. Because he knew that not every quirkless person was treated like this. There weren’t many his age, but he saw some young people without quirks on social media, proudly posting photos of themselves and their friends, saying things like ‘being quirkless doesn’t make you different’. The comments were mostly supportive.

He still remembers that day. They had been tasked with presenting their favorite celebrities and Izuku chose All Might.

He shouldn’t have… he really shouldn’t have, looking back on it. He should’ve known that Kacchan would choose All Might too, should’ve known how much it would bother him that Izuku did the same. But he was so excited about the task. School had become a source of pain by then, but thinking about this presentation was something that made him smile like…like All Might. And he thought that maybe, maybe, if his presentation was good on a topic he knew so well, maybe then his teacher would like him more.

It didn’t work. His teacher publicly announced his grade and everything he did wrong in his presentation. The entire class snickered and Izuku was fighting back tears. He had put a lot of effort into the presentation, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing he did was ever enough. And Izuku being humiliated in front of the class wasn’t enough for Kacchan. Hence, what happened in the video.

But Izuku is over this. It was a long time ago and both of them changed a lot since then. Despite how much of a jerk he used to be, Kacchan will become a great hero one day. That’s why it’s worrying that someone has a video like this.

Izuku sniffles. He grabs a tissue from the tissue box on his desk to wipe the tears and snot away. He didn’t even realize that he was crying while watching it. He snorts. But of course he was. Even though he didn’t have any reason to. This was humiliating, sure, but he should be more worried about the possible consequences for Kacchan.

He watches parts of the video again, trying to figure out how it was recorded. It doesn’t take long to see that the video could only have been taken by a camera on the wall, most likely a security camera. But Izuku doubted anyone would’ve gone out of their way to inconspicuously record what happened. If it was any of the kids in the video, they would’ve just used their phones.

The person who sent this video got access to security camera footage. To footage that Izuku was sure had long since been deleted.

He stops watching the video to look at the sender’s profile, only to stop in his tracks when he sees another message.

‘Do as I say if you don’t want this to get out.’ It says . Izuku’s breath hitches.

The person who sent this… they committed the crime of hacking a school’s security camera system. They are most likely a criminal, if not a villain. They have to know that he’s a UA student – why else would they have decided to blackmail him of all people? They might be doing this to get information on school affairs. Or maybe they want him to do other things that might hurt people.

And hurting others isn’t worth it just to keep his weak former self secret.

Sure, people might think him less capable, they might even suspect him of having gotten his quirk illegally and they might resent him for having cheated his way into the hero course. It’s embarrassing how scared Izuku was from some middle schoolers, how much he whined about minor injuries caused by children, how little he tried to fight back. There are so many people who had to go through much worse and there he was, acting as if it was the end of the world.

It might even make Aizawa question whether he belongs in the hero course… he might even be expelled. But becoming a hero is not worth it if he has to actively hurt others. That would make him a villain. He’d rather not be a hero if it meant becoming a villain.

“But…” Izuku thinks out loud, knuckles on his chin. “Kacchan…”

That’s the thing. Because even if this happened in his first year of middle school, even if Kacchan changed, Izuku knows of UA’s strict policies on bullying.

Kacchan must know too, a traitorous part of his mind whispers, because he never really tried anything on campus. He shakes those thoughts away because they aren’t fair.

He starts typing the message.

And UA might not care about the video, since this happened before UA. But if there’s a chance that they do, Izuku has to try everything in his power to prevent that from happening.

‘What do you want me to do?’ He taps send, fingers shaking.

He won’t do anything that could hurt anyone, but he’ll pretend to agree to get some time. It doesn’t take long for the symbol that shows that the other person’s typing to show up.

‘Cut the word ‘useless’ into your skin and record it.’ Izuku drops his phone again.

Chapter Text

This time, izuku’s screen protector has cracks on it. His phone hit the edge of his desk face on and fell to the ground with an audible thud. But Izuku pays this no mind. His gaze is focused on the message he’s been rereading several times since picking it up. He didn’t even check whether his screen is damaged.

That’s… that’s not what Izuku expected. He hasn’t heard of this type of blackmail before.
Wanting him to self-harm? What would they gain from that?

Izuku grimaces. Does… does it turn them on? He can’t fathom the thought. Does it make them feel superior if a hero student does that to themself? But… This person seems too well-prepared and experienced to do this for the sake of their own amusement.

Besides… they have enough footage of several different ways in which he humiliated himself and got hurt. Why would they want more?

The only thing different is-

He whips around at a shifting sound behind him. His door handle is moving up and down ominously. His blood runs cold. What if… what if they found him…?

“Midoriya?” Izuku releases a breath of air. Knocking accompanies the voice of Aoyama. “Are you alright? I just completed my evening beauty routine-“
Izuku hastily wipes at his eyes and hurries to open the door. Aoyama’s wearing Pyjamas that Izuku has no doubt are very fashionable despite not knowing much about fashion.
“…there was a sound! You’re usually not that loud, mon ami.” He finally turns his attention to Izuku instead of looking at an invisible audience in the hallway.

He’s dumbfounded by Aoyama’s concern for a moment, but gets over his hesitation quickly. They’re friends now. “Um… I’m fine!” Izuku says, sounding frantic instead of the cheerful he was aiming for.

He bows and apologizes for disturbing him.

Aoyama ignores that and expertly says, “You need more cheese.”, lifting a scolding finger.
Despite the fear weighing on his chest, Izuku smiles and thanks Aoyama for his concern. He rejects his offers of cheese, claiming a full stomach, not wanting to waste Aoyama’s food.

He feels just a bit lighter when he reenters his room. It doesn’t last long, though, because his gaze is instantly drawn to the cracked phone on his desk. He sighs and locks the door again.

He can’t keep throwing his phone around, that’s for sure. He didn’t even realize how loud it was, distracted as he was by his panic. Luckily, it was too early for anyone to be asleep – beside Kacchan, maybe, and he’s far enough away not to have heard it - but he can’t let it happen again.

He opens the top drawer of his desk to take out one of his empty notebooks. He needs to be calmer about this; he needs to think. Talking to Aoyama grounded him somewhat and he hopes writing things down can do the same.

He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself – which is ridiculous, really – and writes down what he knows. It isn’t much. Most of what he fills page after page with are far-fetched theories, but it helps calm the frantic beating of his heart.

What he can conclude for certain is that there’s some sort of significance to Izuku being the one to harm himself. And he’s not sure if it being more demeaning or the simple sadism of the criminal is enough to explain it.

They could use him for more. As a spy, namely, not just for information about UA but about All Might.

“Unless…” Izuku whispers out loud, eyes widening. “Unless they know for sure that I wouldn’t do it.”

His eyes sweep over his notes again, turning page after page, excited to have a clue. This person knows him – or knows him well enough to know that he wouldn’t spy for them even when the stakes are high.

They must, they must –

Or they simply watched a lot of the security camera footage. He deflates, letting his head drop on his notes. Or they assumed no hero student would betray their school. But villains usually underestimate people’s commitment to their own ideals…

Focus.

He straightens up and writes down, ‘potential knowledge of my values’ right under ‘potential technology-related (footage-restoration?) quirk’.
Theories. All he has are theories. He needs to find out more about this person and their goals. And then… he has to stop them.

His phone buzzes. His hand freezes. He turned on his notifications for…
And it’s too late for anyone else. He gingerly unlocks his phone and reads.

‘You have 24 hours.’

He chews on his pen. A time limit wasn’t unexpected. 24 hours is not a lot, but it could be worse.

‘Where do you want me to cut it?’

‘Wherever you want. As long as it’s clearly visible.’ No hesitation in their reply. They aren’t thrown off by his willingness to comply. They’re either very collected or good at predicting his behavior.
He jots some more bulletpoints down.

‘Does my face have to be on the video?’

‘Yes.’ That was fast.

‘If you want to see the marks well, it’d be easier to do it at a different angle.’

‘Your face is on the video. That is nonnegotiable.’

Izuku can hear the finality of that statement even over an inanimate phone screen. His stomach squirms uncomfortably as he writes that down. This further supports the theory of Izuku self-harming being significant in some way. It could be paranoia – perhaps they think Izuku’d ask someone else to do it; Izuku suppresses a shudder at the thought – or they need proof that it was Izuku doing it.

They’re most likely planning on showing Izuku cutting ugly characters into his skin to at least one other person.

‘What happens if I don’t do it?’ Izuku’s finger hovers over the ‘send’ button, afraid that he’s stepping over some imaginary line with this question. But… he’ll never get any information without taking risks. He presses it quickly, not giving himself time to reconsider.

‘The whole world will see what happened in your middle school years. You know better than anyone that that video isn’t the worst one.’

Izuku’s breath hitches. He knew that they must have more… that they must have seen… But seeing it spelled out-

‘Don’t ask any further questions. Do as you’re told.’

After that, Izuku tries to come to further conclusions about the sender. Looking at their profile doesn’t reveal anything other than the fact that this account was created solely for blackmailing him. No followers or posts and they don’t follow anyone. Their name is a combination of numbers.

22451207

Izuku spends a long while trying to find some kind of meaning behind them. Then, when he glances at the time and sees that he spent an hour and a half trying to figure something out he had no way of confirming, he curses himself for wasting time.

It’s past three in the morning and looking over his notes reveals that the hours he spent taking them didn’t help him figure out anything conclusive. He sighs and tries to think of a way to hide the notebook.
He attempted to make it seem like he was writing about a case he heard about online, but he knows that won’t cut it if someone actually reads more than a few lines.

Leaning back in his chair, not immersed in any imminent desperation, panic or note-taking, he realizes just how exhausted he is. His body aches, not just from overexercising or his previously hunched position over his desk, but from lack of sleep. He feels the familiar throbbing behind his eyes and the ache in his chest and back that comes with passing his threshold of sleep. He has a mild headache too. He should’ve gotten more sleep yesterday.

Because now he’s at that point of sleep-deprivation when it’ll be even harder to fall asleep. Izuku sighs again as he stows away his notebook - on the shelf with the ones he used for his hero analysis – and packs his bag for school tomorrow. Getting ready for bed doesn’t take long, but falling asleep does.

What with his reduced capacity for sleep and the mysterious person blackmailing him, it isn’t surprising that his alarm rings right when he’s finally fallen asleep.

He groans, burying his face in his pillow. He hasn’t slept enough to feel sleepy but he hasn’t slept enough not to feel like every part of his body is being saddled with weight heavier than any he’s ever lifted.
Despite every movement aggravating this feeling, he quickly turns off his alarm.

He doesn’t have to remember what happened yesterday; it doesn’t suddenly hit him, because he never forgot about it in the first place. He kept tossing and turning trying to think of what to do; imagining bad enough worst case scenarios that not having any nightmares doesn’t feel like a blessing.

Iida’s already waiting for him when he gets down – of course he is; no matter how early Izuku is, he can’t be earlier than Iida.

“Did you have to wait long?”

“Not at all!” Iida says, starting on his stretches. “In fact, I arrived just 2 minutes before you.”

“That’s good.” Izuku gives his friend a small smile.

Izuku joins in, mimicking his movements. There’s a lot he can learn from Iida when it comes to proper warm up routines. Everything aches more than it normally does but it’s bearable.

Izuku knows Iida well enough to know that the silence is companionable - Iida prefers it to idle chatter. When completing a task, even when it’s stretches, he likes to direct his complete attention to it. Iida’s nothing if not dedicated.

The autumn air is cool on his skin and it affects him more than it normally does. That improves when they start on their run. They follow their usual track, where there’s enough space between the trees that they can see well enough not to stumble over anything in the dim morning light. Izuku’s out of breath quicker, feels the effects of jogging earlier, but he fights through it.

If he wants to get better, he can’t be stopped by a bit of sleep deprivation. He increases their pace, knowing Iida can easily keep up with it.

He’s slowing down for you, you’re holding him back.

Iida’s been going for jogs his entire life, of course Izuku’s slowing him down. He knows that, but Iida asked to run with him. This isn’t a problem… but why does it feel like one? More than usual anyway... The stress of the video- no don’t think about it. He runs faster, the strain on his body distracting him enough to chase away the same flashes of his pathetic younger self he had all night.

He NEEDS to get better.

“Midoriya?” Izuku lifts his gaze from the ground in front of him to glance sideways at Iida. He’s looking straight ahead, but he has a concerned frown on his face. His posture is perfect, as always.

“Ye-yeah?” Even his voice sounds out of breath. He turns back to the road; the last thing he wants is to fall and slow them down further.

“Is everything okay?” Iida asks between even breaths. “Your pace is quite erratic.”

If his face wasn’t already beet red from the exercise, he’s sure it would be now from embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more consistent.”

“That’s not why I asked.” He’s glad they’re at their end sprint already; it saves him from having to come up with a response. When they arrive at their designated tree, Izuku’s side and chest throb with every breath, even though this was just a simple run.

He does this every day – sometimes without Iida. A bit of exhaustion shouldn’t affect him this much. He should be better than this by now. How can he be a hero if he can’t-

“The…” Iida takes a breath. “The reason I asked is that I noticed that you’ve been a bit…high strung since yesterday.”

IZUKU replies when he feels like he can speak without his quick breaths interfering. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

IZUKU tenses at the hand on his shoulder, but thankfully doesn’t flinch away.

Iida seems to notice anyway and removes it.
He usually doesn’t even tense when it’s Iida… why does it feel like he would rather jump out of his skin than have his friend show his affection? What’s wrong with him?! There’s prickling behind his eyes, but he blinks the tears away because that’d worry Iida even more. “I really am.”

“If you say so.” Iida says hesitantly. Izuku tries to be more cheerful on their walk back to the dorms and keeps up with the conversation.

He eats his usual breakfast, not even thinking about All Might’s changes to his meal plan. He’s too busy talking to his friends and freaking out about what to do about his… assignment. He tries to listen, he really does because his friends are amazing and they deserve better, but he needs to decide what to do. It doesn’t help that Kacchan isn’t too far away from them, his mere presence a reminder of what’s at stake.

He doesn’t have many options.

Class passes similarly. Whenever someone so much as looks at him with something remotely unidentifiable, IZUKU thinks they might know. Even if the number person didn’t publish it for everyone to see, they might have sent it to a few people to urge him to do as he was told. He doesn’t know anything about this person; he can’t predict them accurately – anything is possible.

“Midoriya.” Izuku jumps so hard he drops his pencil. Ectoplasm is looking at him. And so is some of the rest of the class. The longer he doesn’t say anything the more people turn to look at him. He can feel his face flush.

“I’m sorry, sir, could you please repeat that?” A few people snicker, but Izuku doesn’t think it’s in a mean way. Some of his other classmates stare at him in shock. Even Bakugo turns around to glare at him. This is embarrassing.

Ectoplasm does and Izuku answers the math question without much trouble. He discussed this with Uraraka yesterday, after all. Uraraka will probably never ask him for help again after this and maybe it’s better that way.

After class, he goes to ectoplasm to apologise again. The man seems surprised and only waves him away. “Just make sure to pay attention in the future.”
He should’ve paid attention.

Izuku feels a lump in his throat, regret and frustration swirling in his gut. He should’ve done better. Just like with his morning run, with making sure Iida enjoyed it, with making his friends happy instead of worried, with not being a bother in the classroom or outside of it. He just… should’ve done better! He shouldn’t have acted like in the video, being nothing but a problem to those around him…

Lack of sleep makes him prone to even more overemotional responses, he knows, but that doesn’t make him feel any less like he’s about to cry.

But he won’t. He takes another bite of his noodles. He knows they taste great, but he can’t taste anything. He can only focus on swallowing down the bites along with the lump in his throat.

Uraraka is talking about a movie she watched yesterday after their study session. She couldn’t sleep, so she decided to fall asleep to one. It was too good to fall asleep to, though. Her eyes are shining with her enthusiasm and that makes it just a bit easier not to break down in the middle of lunch… again. Seeing her warm happiness helps fight the cold dread spreading through his entire body, distracting him from thinking about difficult decisions.
Iida lectures her for staying up too late and Izuku smiles at the familiarity. Todoroki watches the interaction with curious eyes and Izuku wonders if he’s trying to learn from other people’s conversations.

“The same goes for you, Midoriya.” Iida turns to him. “Don’t think I haven’t seen those rings around your eyes.”

Izuku smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry Iida. I’ll try to do better.” He will. With everything.

“That’s good. Heroes have to take care of themselves.”

Heroics training doesn’t go as badly as it could’ve. Izuku’s heavily weighed down body makes things harder, but he doesn’t screw up too badly and his team passes the exercise.
Normally, he’d train some more, but he needs to figure out what to do. He can’t keep pushing this away.
He’ll tell his friends that he needs to take a nap and use the time to work on finding a solution. With the way his entire body and head ache, he wouldn’t be much good at exercising anyway.

“Midoriya.” Aizawa’s voice interrupts his thoughts. Izuku turns back around to see Aizawa stare at him with his usual, unreadable gaze. “I need to talk to you.” Ignoring the claws of panic in his gut, Izuku gestures for his friends to go on without him and tells them not to wait up.

He walks back to Aizawa. He can see All Might linger in the background, talking to Midnight and surreptitiously glancing their way occasionally.

Izuku clenches his fists to hide their shaking.
If Aizawa found out, it’s over. He’ll be expelled and Kacchan punished. He thought about telling him, knowing that if Aizawa tried to find out who did it, he’d succeed much quicker than Izuku. But there’s so much at stake… and for now it’s not like he’s being asked to do anything too horrible; he isn’t being forced to do anything villainous or things that could hurt anyone. If that happens, he’ll tell Aizawa.

“Eri finished moving in.” Aizawa says, straight to the point. Izuku blinks a few times, thrown off by none of his imagined scenarios coming to pass. Although admittedly, Aizawa hauling him away by his shirt collar to the principal’s office might’ve been a bit outlandish. “She asked to see you. Do you have anything planned?”

Izuku throws a glance in All Might’s direction. When their eyes meet, he looks curious instead of urgent. “No, sir.”

Aizawa nods. “Follow me, then.” On their way to the teachers’ dorms, Izuku feels his excitement grow. Even if it has only been a week since he last saw her at the cultural festival, Izuku couldn’t be happier to see Eri again. He hopes that that time WASN’T the last time she smiled.

The mysterious blackmailer can wait if it’s Eri.

Aizawa’s silent on their way there, which isn’t unusual. Izuku can’t help but pay more attention to Aizawa’s movements, though, watching from behind for anything out of the ordinary.

He can’t find anything.

“Deku!” Eri’s excited voice greets him when they enter the room. Mirio smiles at him from his position on the couch next to her. There’s an open picture book between them.

“Hi, Eri.” Making himself smile isn’t hard when he sees her happy face. He sits down on her other side while Aizawa greets them and makes himself comfortable at a nearby desk. He doesn’t even glance Izuku’s way. Izuku sighs in relief. “What are you guys doing?”

“Lemillion told me a story! It’s a story that goes with the pictures there.” She grabs the book and shows the drawn animals to Izuku. He looks at it closely. “I never knew what it was, because I couldn’t understand the symbols…” She trails off a bit sadly, but before Izuku can even attempt to cheer her up, she smiles widely. “But Lemillion says I can learn how to read them myself. Isn’t that cool, Deku?!”

“Yes, that’s amazing, Eri.” He can feel himself tear up at how happy she looks; he’s so glad. He wipes them away quickly before anyone can notice them. Mirio’s reassuring smile says that he didn’t succeed.

Eri keeps flipping through the book, telling him what happens on each page in impressive detail. He listens attentively, asking questions when he realizes that answering them makes her happy. Several times Eri falters, asking if it’s really okay for her to talk so much, and they’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine. Overhaul’s ghost isn’t gone, but it’s fading and slowly losing its power over Eri.

Nothing could make him happier.

When she’s done, they talk some more about how things will be for her from now on. Izuku’s surprised that Aizawa has more or less taken Eri in as his ward, but he knows that he’ll take good care of her. Now that Mirio isn’t taking part in some of his classes, he can spend a lot of time with Eri and help out.
When they’re done, Izuku gets up to put the book back on its shelf, only to freeze in his tracks when he sees the back of the book. There, written in black ink clearly visible over the light brown cover are the numbers: 22451207.

He blinks a few times, but they’re still there. He can hear his heart thundering in his chest, so loud that he’s surprised no one calls him out on it.

“Mi-Mirio?” He asks in a shaky voice. He’s glad Aizawa took Eri to her room for a late afternoon nap. She’s still exhausted from her sickness. “What… what do these numbers me-mean?” He sounds as out of breath as he did after his run this morning.

“Numbers?” He frowns and takes a look at the writing on the book Izuku’s pointing at. “Oh… that. We think it’s some kind of date? The previous owner might have thought that day was important.” He shrugs. “Why? Does it mean something to you?”

“N-no.” Izuku forces a smile. “Just curious.”

He leaves quickly after that, running as soon as he’s out of the room.

He needs to do something. He asks his classmates not to disturb him, claiming exhaustion. He must look the part because despite the frantic desperation he’s sure he’s unable to hide completely, his friends let him go without a fuss.

As soon as he’s in his room he grabs the notebook from the shelf, flicking it open to his notes on the criminal’s numeric name.

He remembers the number - of course he does; he spent hours theorizing about it – but seeing it spelled out, seeing that Izuku’s blackmailer had some kind of contact with Eri – innocent, sweet Eri who only just got her smile back – it makes him want to catch 22451207 more than ever, before they can hurt anyone.

They must have written the numbers on it after the nurse got it from the regular pediatric ward’s playroom. They couldn’t have known which book she would get. They must have been able to get through either Eri’s well protected hospital wards or UA’s defenses.

It was most likely the hospital. From the way she talked about it, Eri has been in love with the book from the moment she first saw it, even if she can’t read it she would’ve noticed it if a number suddenly appeared on the cover.

This person is more dangerous than Izuku thought. They found out about Eri somehow and likely watched everything going on around her for several days. It makes Izuku feel sick.

The new message confirms this and makes him feel even worse.

‘If you tell anyone, people will get hurt.’

They must have known she would be released today. They could’ve attacked her, hurt her or kidnapped her…

‘What do you want with Eri?’
Their reply is instantaneous; it’s like they waited for his question.

‘Nothing. The only thing I want is for you to do what I ask you to do. No one will get hurt if you do.’

This… he should tell Aizawa about this. The harm done if he doesn’t might be greater than if he does. This person is clearly dangerous, they might be lying about no one getting hurt… but this person is dangerous. They were able to make contact, however indirectly, with Eri who was supposed to be safe. Who’s to say Eri can be protected from them if they’re really out to get her?

She’s just started smiling again and if he told someone… there’s a chance she never will again. This person wants something from him, they, they wouldn’t risk not getting it by going back on their word, right?

Aizawa and the rest of his teachers are great, amazing pro heroes, but would they truly risk everything just because he shows them a few videos of his sniveling younger self, a few threatening messages and a number? Wouldn’t the video discredit anything he says? He trusts his teachers’ abilities and he knows that it’s heroes’ job to save people, but what if they don’t believe him? What if they think he’s making it all up for attention? What if they think he’s overreacting?
Then he’d have broken the blackmailer’s rules for nothing because Eri still wouldn’t be protected.

No matter how much he thinks about it, the best solution is going along with it for now. As soon as he has to hurt someone or the blackmailer hurts someone, he’ll get help. And if they don’t believe him, he’ll try to protect Eri himself.

‘Okay, I’ll do it tonight. Can you give me time until midnight?’

‘Alright. But you know what happens if I don’t get the video by then.’

Izuku swallows. There’s a lot more at stake now.

He needs to do this right.