Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mrs. Midoriya, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me,” Tsukauchi said. “Is this your son’s handwriting?”

Inko leaned forward a little to get a better look at the notebook and shook her head cautiously.

“No.” 

True

“Are you sure?” Tsukauchi’s mind was frantically going through the possibilities. How was this boy related to Mastermind? 

“No, I know Izuku’s handwriting, why are you…”

True  

“Do you know how your son got this notebook?” Tsukauchi said as calmly as he could. He couldn’t risk putting off his best lead yet.

Inko seemed to pick up on his urgency anyway. She tensed up and whispered, “No, the first time I saw it was today. Please, is my son in danger?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Tsukauchi stood, “I need to check on a few things, Mrs. Midoriya, before I can tell you anything more, so sit tight. Just know that you did the right thing bringing this to us and we’re going to help you. Is there anything we can get for you? I can have Sansa bring you a coffee if you’d like?”

Inko shook her head, “Just protect my baby.”

Tsukauchi turned away so she couldn’t see his face and left, already dialing Nedzu.

—

“This is big,” Nedzu said as soon as he arrived.

Tsukauchi nodded, “We need to talk to Izuku Midoriya. He might know who Mastermind is. There was even an incident where Mrs. Midoriya was mugged a few months ago and from what the officers said, it appears her body could have been completely taken apart and reassembled by someone who looked like a bird, which could mean she was threatened by Overhaul.”

“Could they really be that close?” Nedzu cut in. “The person Overhaul threatened was important to Mastermind, I doubt it was his friend’s mother.” 

“It’s the best bet we have. Midoriya’s the same age, they could have met at school. He’s also the same build and height as Mastermind, not to mention his hair color, which matches some of the earliest reports we ever gathered. They could be related, and that’s how Mastermind knows Mrs. Midoriya.”

“And you don’t think the boy could be Mastermind himself?” Nedzu narrowed his eyes skeptically. “He matches the description perfectly. He’s even quirkless, according to the quirk registry. It fits.”

“I don’t know,” Tsukauchi frowned. “Mrs. Midoriya said that it’s definitely not her son’s handwriting.”

“Could he be ambidextrous? These notes seem too neat to be written with his off-hand, but that’s also a possibility.” Nedzu said as he flipped through Mastermind’s notebook. 

“We’ll need to find out. Either way, we have to talk to him.” Tsukauchi started gathering his things to go back to the interrogation room where Mrs. Midoriya was waiting.

—

Inko looked up as Tsukauchi and Nedzu opened the door to the interrogation room, “What’s happening? Is Izuku going to be alright? Do you know who’s trying to lead my baby down the wrong path?”

Tsukauchi grimaced, “We’re trying to figure it out Mrs. Midoriya, but all we can say is that your son might have fallen into the wrong crowd.”

Inko sobbed and Tsukauchi awkwardly rubbed circles on her back as they waited for her to calm down, “What am I going to do? He’s my baby!”

“We know, Mrs. Midoriya,” Nedzu said softly. “Which is why we need your help. Izuku might have connections to some very powerful villains.”

Inko sobbed again and Tsukauchi tried to ignore the guilt he felt, “We’re going to need you to help us, Mrs. Midoriya. Can you bring Izuku here so we can ask him about this notebook? We just want to make sure he’s safe, and he might be able to tell us about who gave it to him.”

Inko nodded, “Do you think he’s working with these people?” She took a deep breath and drew her arms closer to herself. Tsukauchi stepped away from her and walked back around to the other side of the table.

“He could have just picked up the notebook by accident, in which case there is nothing to worry about.” Tsukauchi tried to form his face into a comforting smile. “But there is a possibility he has been coerced into working with some very bad people.”

“I’ll- I’ll try to bring him.” Inko sniffed.

Nedzu caught Tsucauchi’s eye. Tsukauchi liked to think he was pretty good at reading Nedzu’s expressions, and this look always meant he was about to say something unpleasant.

“Mrs. Midoriya,” Nedzu said. “It might not be a good idea to let him know you’ve found out about the notebook.  We need you to put it back where you found it and don’t let your son know that you read it or that you spoke with us. Can you do that?”

Inko looked up at them with wide eyes, “B-but, he’s my son! I need to talk to him about this!”

“Mrs. Midoriya,” Tsukauchi said earnestly, “if Izuku was given this notebook by someone dangerous, and he notices anything suspicious, that person could put many people in danger, including your son. We know that it will be difficult for you to lie to him, but it’s what we need you to do to keep a lot of people safe.”

And that wasn’t even considering what could happen if the boy himself turned out to be Mastermind. Nedzu was right, they couldn’t discount the possibility just yet.

Inko sniffed again, “Are you sure this is the best way?”

“We believe it is possibly the only way,” Nedzu responded.

Inko nodded, “Ok, if you’re sure, I’ll do it for Izuku.”

“We really appreciate this, Mrs. Midoriya,” Nedzu said. “If you can bring your son here without letting him know that you’ve read the notebook, we can take it from there. We’ll keep him safe.”

“We wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important,” Tsukauchi added.

—

“Mom! Did you clean my room?” Izuku yelled so Mom could hear him in the kitchen. 

There was a long moment before she responded, “Yes baby, I noticed you’ve been stressed lately, so I thought I’d do something to cheer you up!”

Izuku glanced at his desk and sighed with relief when he saw his Mastermind notebook hadn’t been moved, “Thanks, Mom! You’re the best!”

Chapter Text

Izuku hummed along to the car radio as his mom drove them home. They had just gone on a bunch of errands that were too far from their apartment to walk and treated themselves to ice cream afterward. Mom had seemed strangely jumpy the whole time, as she had been more and more lately–especially when he went out to meet his friends–but he brushed it off. She had always been a worry-wort.

They made a sudden turn and Izuku was jerked out of his comfortable position leaning against the window. 

“Mom, aren’t we supposed to turn a few blocks ahead?” Izuku frowned and double-checked the GPS. They were definitely not supposed to turn yet. They were also now going in the opposite direction that they should have been to get home.

“I just have one more thing to do, sweetie.” Mom glanced over at him and tugged her mouth into a clearly fake smile. 

“I thought we were done with all the errands,” Izuku looked around them through the car windows. He couldn’t think of any reason they would be going in this direction. 

“I just have to drop something off at the police station.” Mom’s knuckles had turned white from how hard she was gripping the steering wheel. 

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows and turned around to look at the back seat. There was nothing there, and nothing in the trunk either as far as he could tell. He couldn’t remember Mom putting anything in the car other than the shopping bags. And what could she have to give the police?

A dull buzzing slowly invaded Izuku’s thoughts, but he tried to suppress it. She couldn’t know…right? 

He had kept all evidence carefully away from the house, except for that notebook he took home because he didn’t have time to finish his notes at headquarters.

Which was about a week ago…when Mom started acting strange…the day she cleaned his room…

Fuck.

Okay, deep breaths. He needed to act normal. Best case scenario, he was wrong and she really just needed to drop something off at the police station. Worst case, she had already turned him in and they were waiting there with the cuffs.

But no, he still had his computer program. As long as that was in place, they wouldn’t dare. 

They pulled up to the police station and Mom got out of the car. She didn’t go to get anything out of the car, just walked around to the passenger side and waited for Izuku to get out. She was fidgeting with the collar of her shirt and tapping her foot nervously.

So that answered that question, she definitely knew something. Now he just had to find out how much.

Izuku stepped onto the sidewalk and considered asking Mom about what she needed to drop off, but decided against it. Better to appear oblivious and gather information.

They walked into the station and Mom went up to the receptionist, shooting worried-looking glances over her shoulder at Izuku the whole way. He tried to listen to what she whispered to the person at the front desk, but his attention was caught by a figure behind the glass door to the hallway. 

Was that…Nedzu?

“Ah, Mrs. Midoriya! So good to see you again,” Nedzu stepped out to the lobby, and turned to Izuku before Mom could reply. “And you must be Izuku! Mrs. Midoriya had many good things to say about you the last time we met.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes at Nedzu–what was he doing here, addressing Izuku’s mom–but lifted his eyebrows into an innocent expression belonging to his past fanboy self and looked between him and Mom. “Nedzu? You’re the principal of UA, right? It’s so exciting to meet you, you’re such an amazing hero! But how do you know my mom?”

Just then, Detective Tsukauchi came out of the same doorway and walked up to them.

“I met up with Mrs. Midoriya a few times to fill out paperwork regarding Midoriya Hisashi’s affairs, and Nedzu happened to stop by while she was here, so they got acquainted. She told us some stories about you.”

Izuku doubted that was what actually happened–he hadn’t heard about any paperwork being taken care of at the police station–but he probably wouldn’t be able to get the real story just yet, so he nodded and hummed softly to show he understood. 

Tsukauchi offered to show him to a waiting area while Mom and Nedzu talked and she took care of whatever she needed to do, and he followed along, despite there being ample chairs to wait in at the lobby. 

He scanned the walls and took note of the turns they took, under the guise of peering curiously at the posters, and barely managed to prevent himself from scoffing out loud. The Detective wasn’t even trying to hide that he was leading Izuku to the interrogation rooms. Honestly, how stupid did they think he was?

They turned another corner and, sure enough, there was an open door into a dark room with a huge window. Beyond that was a doorway into the brightly lit room shown through the window, furnished with a plain metal table with a book and a pencil placed on it and two very uncomfortable looking chairs. Charming.

He wasn’t sure how well he could keep the derision out of his voice, but it would be more suspicious to not comment on it, so he screwed up his face in confusion and said, “This doesn’t really look like a waiting room.”

Tsukauchi looked apologetic as he led Izuku into the room and sat him at the table, but there was definitely relief in the slump of his shoulders as soon as he got between Izuku and the door.

“I’m sorry we don’t have a more comfortable available space,” Izuku’s mind flicked back to the many available chairs in the lobby, “but this activity book should keep you occupied while I talk to your mom.”

Tsukauchi walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Izuku heard a faint click a second after. He was locked in. He couldn’t see Tsukauchi leaving the dark room because the glass was a one way mirror, but he heard the footsteps that couldn’t quite be muffled. 

Izuku tried to pull out his phone to pass the time and maybe message the League about what happened in case he needed a distraction to escape, but he remembered that Mom had insisted he leave his phone in the car because it needed to charge, since it was at 5%. His phone hadn’t been charging last night because the cable was partially unplugged. 

Had Mom planned that? It seemed awfully elaborate for her. But then again, she was in contact with Nedzu.

Izuku sighed and turned his attention to the book on the table. He supposed he could try to figure out what they wanted from him. It was, in fact, an activity book. But it didn’t seem like a coloring book, as was usually in waiting areas for impatient children. It was full of writing exercises and story prompts. Not a single entry had been filled out yet, and the corners of the book were not frayed from fiddling, none of the pages ripped. 

It was clearly new, bought just for him. An idea was growing in his mind. If they did know he was Mastermind he doubted they would be this obvious. They would wait to arrest him when they knew they could get him for sure, after they somehow overrode his program. So they didn’t know for sure, and they were trying to get him to write some short stories for what? To test his creativity? 

He flipped through the book and paused. A lot of them weren’t writing prompts at all, they were focused on handwriting. 

Write “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” with your right hand, then your left hand, then both at the same time, one said. Under it, there were lines spaced a little closer together than would be on a normal piece of binder paper, but typical for a notebook.

Of course, the notebook. Mom had seen the notebook and brought it to the police station, but said it wasn’t his handwriting. She would know, she was subject to all of his presentations on his Hero Analysis For The Future, courtesy of his notebooks, that he did often until he became a villain. The Detective and Nedzu were testing his handwriting.

Izuku tried to suppress the manic giggle threatening to bubble up. He didn’t think anyone was in the observation room, but better to be careful. It was a good thing he’d written all of his Mastermind notes with his left hand, preparing for this exact situation. Shoto had told him he was probably being paranoid, but Izuku was right.

It had taken quite a lot of time and practice to get his off-hand’s handwriting to look presentable enough to use for the plans going to the villains, but it had been worth it!

He started going through the activity book, using his right hand for everything except the prompts specifically telling him to use his left hand, and for those he made sure to grip the pencil differently than he was used to, making his lines shaky and barely legible. 

After a while of working on the activity book, the Detective came back into the room and picked it up casually. He offered to get Izuku some snacks or water–which Izuku declined–and left, taking the book with him. He held it gingerly, like he wished he didn’t have to touch it, but was careful to make sure it wasn’t bent or damaged, as if that would change the writing inside. The lock clicked again.

As soon as Tsukauchi left the observation room, Izuku let out the smirk he’d been suppressing. They wouldn’t find anything in there. The handwriting didn’t match, the short stories intentionally simple, not at all like Mastermind’s complicated strategy. 

He had nothing to do now, so he sat and waited for Tsukauchi, or maybe Nedzu, to come back. 

This would be fun.

Chapter Text

“First of all, Midoriya, I think you should know that we haven’t been entirely honest with you.” 

The Detective sat across from Izuku at the cold metal table. Izuku thought he also heard Nedzu behind the one-way mirror, in the observation room. He couldn’t tell if Mom was there with him, but he would bet she was.

“I gathered that, yeah,” Izuku took some satisfaction from the way Tsukauchi grimaced, but kept the image of the confused schoolboy he’d been maintaining since he got here. “Is this the part where you explain why I’ve been locked in an interrogation room for the past hour?”

Tsukauchi sighed, “It’s only been twenty minutes, but yes, I will explain everything in just a moment.”

He set up a recording device on the table and pulled a folder out of his bag. “My name is Detective Tsukauchi. My quirk allows me to identify whether someone is lying. It is always active and I will be using it over the course of this interview. Do you understand?”

“Interview? Not interrogation?” Izuku leaned back and crossed his arms. If he was too polite, Tsukauchi would probably think he was hiding something. This way, he came across as an irritable teenager instead of the cool and collected Mastermind he might be expecting. It wouldn’t be enough to escape suspicion at this point, but it would help.

“Yes, interview. Now, please state your name for the record.”

“Midoriya Izuku”

“True. The purpose of this interview is to ascertain the origin of a notebook that was brought in as evidence against the villain Mastermind.” He opened the folder and took out photocopies of pages from the notebook, as well as a page from the activity book. “The writing in it does not match your handwriting, but it was found in your possession, so we were hoping you would be able to give us some insight into who wrote it.”

Izuku had to think fast. How should he react? He could pretend he had just found it on the ground somewhere and didn’t really look at the contents. But no, that wouldn’t hold against the Detective’s quirk. He decided to stay with his confused act for now.

Tsukauchi leaned forward, his voice taking on a gentler tone, “Arresting Mastermind would help save a lot of people, Midoriya. I heard you used to want to be a hero. If you’ve gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd, we can help you.”

Izuku allowed himself to tense up. There was an opportunity here. He could work with the police and get inside information that the spy in UA still couldn’t access. He could get warnings about when they were close to catching him or his friends. He could mislead them and get them to run in circles, chasing their tails while he was free to do whatever he liked. 

But it would be risky. If he pointed them in the wrong direction too many times they would know he was just trying to fool them. If he spent so much time around them there was a much higher chance he’d be found out. There would be more eyes on him.

But weren’t they watching him already? Tsukauchi had certainly been suspicious of him when he came to tell Izuku and his mom that his asshole father had died. Really, what harm could a little more attention do, when faced with the advantages it could bring?

But he had to be careful about this. It would be weird if he gave in too easily. He could pretend he was being threatened. He would refuse to say anything, and then ‘break’. It would be more believable, and he could even get some pity points. Mom, at least, would rush to forgive him for getting involved with villains, would get sentimental and overprotective of her ‘fragile, helpless baby’ and back up his story.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Izuku hunched his shoulders and looked away from the Detective (but made sure to turn towards the mirror so Nedzu and Mom could see the fabricated guilt all over his face) and let his hands shake a little where they were still crossed over his chest.

“Kid, we both know that’s a lie. Can you please tell me where you got this notebook?”

Honestly, adding the lip tremble and watery eyes might have been a bit too much, but the Midoriyas were known for their waterworks. Mom had probably cried enough when she first brought in the notebook that they would be expecting it anyway.

“I just found it in a dumpster or something, okay? I don’t know who wrote it.” He was bouncing his leg now, too. He’d been playing the Weak Quirkless Kid for so long that it came easy.

“Anything you can tell us will be helpful. Did Mastermind give you the notebook? Do you know who he is?” 

“I don’t know anything. It’s my business what I do with my stuff.” He made his voice raspier, like a terrified little kid. 

“Midoriya, please. I know how scared you must be, but I just want to help you.”

“I-“ he sniffed, letting a tear roll down his cheek, “I can’t. Something bad will happen.” Something bad certainly would happen. Him getting arrested would be very bad for him, indeed.

“Midoriya, if you’re in danger, we can protect you. If you help us put him away, he won’t be able to hurt you. You just have to tell me who he is.”

“You can’t protect me from him! Nobody can!” Izuku stood up from the chair, making it scrape loudly against the floor, and let the crocodile tears flow. Well, if he did decide to hurt himself, he couldn’t think of much they could do to stop him. Not that he ever would. 

“I’m not worth it, anyway.” He let himself half-collapse on the table, his body racking with sobs. This one was a bit of a stretch, but Tsukauchi definitely wouldn’t think it was worth it to protect him if he found out he was Mastermind, if only because there wouldn’t be much to protect him from. He was the number one villain, and nobody could get to him in a cell in Tartarus, anyway.

Tsukauchi made to stand up, probably to come and comfort him, but before he could, Mom had come hurtling through the door and swept Izuku up into her arms. 

“How could you say that, Izuku? Of course you’re worth it.” Mom was also crying, though her tears were probably real, and hugged Izuku tightly around his shoulders. “Oh, my sweet baby! How could I not notice you’ve been going through this? I’ve failed as your mother!” 

Izuku wrapped his arms about her waist and buried his face in her neck. “Mom…” he said in a weak voice.

“Izuku, can you at least tell us what the bad thing that will happen is? We can try to find a way to keep you safe, so you don’t have to be worried.”

“…they’ll hurt Mom.” 

‘They’ being the media. The vultures would tear into her as soon as they found out she was the mother of Mastermind. With his head still pillowed in Mom’s neck and hair, ‘they’ sounded close enough to ‘he’ if Izuku said it quickly.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Mom, and Tsukauchi said urgently, “Mastermind is threatening your mom?” and Izuku sniffled and nodded. The Detective’s quirk only worked on verbal statements.

“How long has this been going on?” Tsukauchi asked. He seemed to be trying to get as much information out of Izuku as he could before he brought his guard back up.

Izuku stepped out of Mom’s arms while he thought of what to say. He sat back down in the chair and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He bit his lip to buy some time, and started fiddling with the hems of his clothes. 

Tsukauchi took the bait, and his eyes softened sympathetically. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say anything more right now. I understand that your situation is very stressful. We will do all that we can to protect your mom. In the meantime, can you try to get information on Mastermind? I hate to do this to you, but you’re the closest we have to a connection to him at the moment.”

Mom looked about ready to spit fire at Tsukauchi for suggesting Izuku endanger himself more than he already was, but Izuku just nodded, his eyes carefully empty of any emotion, and got up to leave the station. He and Mom spent the drive home in silence. As soon as he shut the door to his room, he called Shoto from his now fully charged phone.

“Guess what,” he grinned.

Chapter Text

Izuku lounged on the couch at headquarters reading a book, enjoying the rare lull of clients demanding murder plans to relax with Shoto and the others. 

He looked up as Dabi came around the back of the couch and sat on the coffee table between it and the TV, staring at Izuku.

He raised an eyebrow, “Can I help you?” 

“I know I’m not very qualified to talk about parents and home life and stuff like that,” Dabi said, and Izuku knew exactly where this was going, “but I’ve noticed you’re spending a lot of time at headquarters lately. You’ve only gone home to eat dinner and sleep for the past few days. Are you and your mom fighting or something?”

“None of your business,” Izuku said and went back to his book. Dabi rolled his eyes and left with a muttered “well sue me for caring, I guess” and rejoined Toga and Shoto where they were discussing conspiracies over the counter. Izuku felt bad for being cold to him, but he really didn’t want to talk about Mom. 

She’d been even more overbearing than she ever was, now that it was out in the open that he knew Mastermind. In the beginning, she’d gotten upset every time he came home late from school, and insisted that he stopped seeing his friends because they could be dangers to her sweet, darling boy.

He’d shut that down quickly, and she apologized and stopped trying to completely isolate him from the outside world, but she was still strongly opposed to any kind of social interaction with anyone she didn’t know–which was practically everyone except Katsuki, and no way in hell was Izuku hanging out with him.

He was also worried about Mom. She seemed to be trying to shut herself in the apartment, only venturing outside when she absolutely needed to and always with some sort of self-defense on her. 

She was probably doing it to comfort him, though. Maybe she thought that if she showed him she could keep herself out of danger, he would just give up everything he knew to Tsukauchi regardless of whatever threats he was under and abandon the plan to get more information by keeping up contact with Mastermind, as he was supposed to be doing.

He appreciated how much she cared for him, but it really wasn’t healthy for either of them. Everything Mom tried to help him ended up pushing him further away, and now he barely spent any time at home. 

This, of course, made her very upset. Izuku knew she was worried sick about him, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back when it meant being in that stifling house. 

Every night he came home right at dinner time and ignored the way Mom’s lips pressed together into a thin line when he announced he was home. Every night he scarfed down his dinner quickly to avoid conversation. Every night he volunteered to do the dishes so he could use the running water to drown out Mom’s voice trying to ask him about his day, where he went, who he saw, what he did. Every night he went to his room and locked the door and collapsed on the bed for a few hours and snuck out the next morning before Mom woke up to go out with Shoto before he had to head to school.

He hadn’t really talked to the Detective again since the interrogation, but they had each other's contact information now so Tsukauchi sent him check-ups every now and then about how he was doing and whether he would give them information about Mastermind.

For now he had decided to continue playing the part of a distressed teenager just trying to get by, not willing to get involved in anything serious. He would refuse to share information about Mastermind’s identity under the pretense of protecting his mom, but not make it seem like he was completely closed off to working with them in the future.

If all went well, Tsukauchi would start trying to convince him that they could catch Mastermind as long as they just knew who he was, and Izuku would be privy to all their plans and progress, but it might be a while yet before that would happen.

Otherwise, he continued on as normal. He made plans for his clients, he let himself get bullied at school, he hung out with the League, and he went on dates with Shoto.

Izuku’s stomach grumbled and he checked the time. Almost dinner. He sighed and put a bookmark in his book before he got up and started heading out the door. 

“Izuku! You should have dinner with us! Get out, I don’t want to share food with you!” Twice yelled over from the kitchen where he and Hawks were cooking for tonight.

“Thanks, Twice, but I’m avoiding Mom enough already. I couldn’t do that to her,” Izuku’s smile was strained as he walked out the door into the cool evening air. He made his way back home with resignation.

On the way, he saw a pretty shop with the type of little trinkets that he knew his mom loved. She used to use her quirk to push and pull them into little puppet shows for him when he was younger, and often fiddled with the ones they still had around the house when she was bored. 

He decided to get her one as a gift. It wouldn’t make up for everything that had happened recently, but it would absolve his guilt, somewhat. He saw a particularly pretty one on display that looked like a fox made of crystal and thought it would be perfect, even if it was a little pricey. 

He bought it and walked the rest of the way home. When he entered the house he yelled to the kitchen where his mom probably was that he had arrived, took off his shoes, and walked over to the table. 

Mom laid out the food on the table for them each to serve themselves and they ate in silence, as had become the new norm. Izuku stopped once he felt full enough to focus properly and cleared his throat.

“Uh, Mom?” he said slowly. He didn’t know how to talk to her anymore. She was the only person he still cared about that didn’t know he was a villain. Well, he supposed, she knew he was close enough to villains to have gotten that notebook, disregarding the fact that it was actually his. Did that count?

She looked up at him from her food with surprise and gestured for him to continue, putting down her chopsticks. He took out the fox from his pocket and put it on the table next to her plate. 

“I got you something. I saw it and figured you would like it.” 

She picked up the fox and turned it around in her hands, the overhead light shining through the crystal and painting the wood table beneath it with pretty colors.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie. I love it,” Mom continued to admire the fox and Izuku smiled softly, feeling comfortable around his mom again for the first time in weeks. But then she caught sight of the price tag that Izuku had forgotten to take off and her face fell instantly.

“Izuku, did you buy this? Where did you get the money for this?” 

Izuku tried to come up with an explanation, but she knew he didn’t have a job–an official one, anyway–and the allowance she gave him was not nearly enough to cover the crystal fox. 

Before he could come up with an answer, she looked at him with teary eyes and whispered, “Did that villain give you money? Is that where you got it from?”

“No,” he tried to say, but his voice cracked and it was barely audible anyway. Technically he couldn’t have given himself money because it was already his, but it was a weak lie regardless. 

Mom stood up as she set the fox back on the table, a little harder than she probably meant to, and looked Izuku in the eyes with the most disappointed expression he’d ever seen on her, even with the tears flowing down her cheeks, and Izuku could feel his own eyes prickling, his face growing hot with shame. 

For what, he didn’t even know. Just a few minutes ago he had been proud of his accomplishments, his cunning, his initiative that he needed for his unsavory career that he had taken so far, but not anymore. Now he was a cowering child under his mother’s judgment.

“You will return this, Izuku. You should know better than to buy things with that dirty money.” Mom lowered her gaze to the floor, and somehow that was worse. “I need some time alone. We can talk about this tomorrow.” And she walked around him to her bedroom, not looking at him, but rather the photographs on the wall picturing his younger self. So happy, carefree, innocent, naïve.

Izuku clenched his hands into fists and gripped his sleeves to prevent himself from punching something. He shoved the fox back into his pocket. As soon as he got to his room, he fell to his knees on the floor, leaning against his bed, and cried. 

He knew, of course, that Mom would not approve of his villainous aspirations. How could he not? It had made logical sense in his brain that she would hate it if she ever found out.

And yet, it still hurt so badly when she directly rejected it. When she rejected him. His life, his freedom. The person he had built himself into, twisted around a wicked environment where he had felt free to be himself for the first time. Now it was tainted with the memory of the shame, the disappointment of his Mom that was so much different from the quiet lack of faith she had had when he wanted to be a hero, and it crushed him so much more.

So he knelt, and cried, and tucked the little crystal fox into the corner of his closet where she would not discover he hadn’t returned it.

When he got too tired to cry anymore, he didn’t bother to get into his bed. He fell asleep on the floor and wished he had the energy to keep crying, because maybe then he could pretend he was still a naïve child and Mom would come rushing in to comfort him any moment. 

He knew it wasn’t true, but he wished anyway.

Chapter Text

Izuku crouched on the fire escape outside his window, just barely managing to duck down in time for Mom to come into his room. He’d thought she wouldn’t be awake yet, but apparently she wanted to catch him before he went to school early to avoid her as usual. 

“Izuku,” she said, her voice catching, “I want to talk about-“ her voice abruptly cut off and Izuku heard her footsteps approaching his bed. She’d probably noticed he wasn’t there. He heard a sigh and a soft thump . She’d probably sat on the bed. It would be any moment now…

“What’s this?” There it was. She’d seen his note. He’d planned on being long gone by the time she read it, but he couldn’t very well jump off the fire escape with her right there, so he just pressed himself into the wall under his window and steeled himself for the breakdown. The Midoriyas would always be criers.

Sure enough, the sound of paper unfolding was soon followed by a gasp and soft sobs. Izuku didn’t want to risk getting caught, but he couldn’t help himself. He peeked over the windowsill to see Mom facing away from him, holding the note with clamped hands and white knuckles. She looked like she was in shock, staring at the words with wide eyes leaking tears that she didn’t even seem to notice falling on the paper.

Izuku bit his lip. This is what he was trying to avoid. He didn’t want to see his mom in pain. He watched as she traced the note with her fingers, mouthing the words.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be the son you wanted. I’m sorry I got involved with villains. I’m sorry I’ve made you worry. I’m sorry, but I can’t stop. This is me, and you can’t accept it, so I’m going to go on my own for a while. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. Don’t expect me back.

He knew there was no chance she would just move on after he left, but this way maybe the police would deem him a budding villain and not look for him very hard. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and crouched back down under the window. This was necessary, he reassured himself. It needed to be done. He couldn’t be both Izuku Midoriya, Inko’s sweet son, and Mastermind, the most infamous villain in the underworld. He had to pick one: his freedom or his mom. He couldn’t give up Mastermind. 

Izuku heard a ringtone echoing around the room, and after a second whoever it was picked up. It wasn’t on speaker, so Izuku couldn’t hear what the other person said, but Mom immediately broke down in sobs.

“It’s Izuku! He ran away! What should I do?” she managed to get out between her sobs, a thunk suggesting she had fallen on the floor. Her desperate cry washed over Izuku, almost convincing him to rush back into the room to comfort her. 

Was this really the right choice? He was hurting his mom so much, and for what? Murder and crime? Shame swallowed him and he felt tears burn behind his eyelids, still squeezed shut, as his hands shook and he closed them into fists against his chest. 

Maybe he should go back. Abandon this all and be happy living a normal life with Mom.

“I can’t just leave him!” she wailed. “My baby! He can’t protect himself out there-“

And then everything came crashing down. 

All the shame filling his lungs transformed into rage. Right, how could he forget. She would never see him for him. Always saw a weak four-year-old boy that needed to be sheltered, protected, kept safe. She would never trust him. All because he was quirkless. She was just like everyone else who had written him off. 

How could he have kidded himself into thinking he’d be happy here, with just his mother, forever? How could he have been so willing to abandon Shoto and the rest of the League? He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Izuku waited with his fists still clenched, crescent marks cutting into his palm, until him mom left his room. He stood up and, without a backward glance, jumped from the fire escape and ran to his apartment, to headquarters, to home.

Chapter Text

Nedzu had just arrived at UA to get ready for the day when his phone rang. He hadn’t been expecting a phone call at this time, so it could only be so many people. Updates on various cases he was involved in could wait for a few hours until work officially started, and any that would warrant a call this early with no warning was currently not being investigated or not likely to reach a breakthrough anytime soon, which was why he had finally managed to convince Naomasa to take a break from needling the Midoriya boy. Similarly, all the pro-heroes that had his number were teachers at UA and would prefer to wait until they could talk to him in person on-campus.

It wasn’t work, then. He ran through all of his civilian contacts, of which there weren’t many, and narrowed it down to a handful that he knew would reach out first. A lot of his contacts merely knew him because of his reputation, and he could be scary when he wanted to be, so they tended to avoid talking to him unless it was necessary. All the better, he thought. He didn’t want to have any unnecessary contact with humans either. Besides, he liked to be in control, and catching people off guard with a phone call was an excellent way to do that.

So it was someone he hadn’t terrorized much, and given the time, it was an emergency. Something that couldn’t wait until later. A neighbor of Mrs. Midoriya had told him about a commotion she’d heard coming from their apartment–or rather, how it had scared off her cat, which he pet-sits from time to time and now receives regular updates about. It’s not the worst thing–and supposed it must be Mrs. Midoriya calling about something happening as a result of that.

He picked up the phone before the first ring had finished, feeling a familiar feeling of satisfaction at seeing the caller ID that stated “Mrs. Midroya” in neat characters. Oh, how he loved being right.

“How are you, Mrs. Midoriya!”

“It’s Izuku! He ran away! What should I do?” Mrs. Midoriya was sobbing. Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting this level of emergency, but it was quite an exciting way to start the day.

“If Izuku has run away then I don’t think you can do much to find him. He is in contact with villains, after all. He might have sought out a safe place amongst them.” He still wasn’t convinced that the Midoriya boy wasn’t Mastermind, but if he was then he was an incredible actor, and a quick thinker, too, to be able to fool Naomasa’s quirk. Of course, all of that was well within Mastermind’s capabilities. There was always a chance the boy had come into possession of the notebook exactly as he had said he had, and he really was being threatened. Though that would beg the question of why he would seek refuge with the very villains who were causing him harm.

Regardless, Mrs. Midoriya had always reacted best to cold logic to combat her tendency to jump to conclusions when she was emotional. “I doubt he is in much danger as of right now. The best thing for you to do is to leave him be for now. The police will look for him, but if you chase him you will most likely scare him away.”

“I can’t just leave him!” Mrs. Midoriya was still barely understandable through her tears, but she seemed to be calming down, “My baby! He can’t protect himself out there by himself! What if he gets hurt, or someone picks on him, or he gets kidnapped or- or-” she was no longer gasping and sniffling, so Nedzu assumed she had calmed down enough to stop crying and was now in a worrying fit.

“Mrs. Midoriya, Izuku walks to and from school alone every day, and no doubt many other places as well, and has always been completely fine. While the villains he corresponds with most likely do not have the best intentions for him, he has never been directly harmed by them and has been allowed to live his life as normal even though he has knowledge and possession of very sensitive information, such as Mastermind’s notes. There must be a reason he is so valuable to them, and Naomasa and his team are working to figure it out,” and that was exactly what had been bothering him, and why he could not let go of the possibility that the Midoriya boy was Mastermind. His story didn’t make sense.

“But- I can’t- Izuku isn’t strong enough to handle villains! He’s fragile, I don’t want him hurt,” Mrs. Midoriya’s voice wavered.

“Mrs. Midoriya, I think you’re underestimating your son’s intelligence. He can take care of himself.” The boy certainly was intelligent, and if Nedzu had any sympathy to give to a human boy who was probably a serial killer, he would have been saddened to see him being undermined at every turn by humans that cared about something as trivial as a quirk.

“I just don’t know what to do. Please, promise you’ll get Izuku back to me safely.” Mrs. Midoriya’s voice hitched, but it was empty of the despair that had been there earlier.

So, she’d gone past the panic and entered a state of numbness. Nedzu could work with that. He gave Mrs. Midoriya some more assurances and a few platitudes and hung up.

She wouldn’t be a problem as long as she believed her son was still an innocent victim, and Mastermind would be locked away before she ever realized the truth. Assuming, of course, that he was right. But then again, he always was.