Shouta Aizawa was having a rough day.
As both a teacher and a pro-hero, he rarely got a consecutive eight hours of sleep. For the past week, he'd slept maybe twelve hours. Total. Suffice it to say, he wanted to take a nap.
Pertaining to the hero half of his daily duties, Aizawa was on patrol from ten to three o'clock in the morning. Hizashi insisted that he should take the night off to catch up on sleep, but Aizawa had another motive for coming out tonight. There was a new unregistered vigilante going around this area, and one of Eraserhead's responsibilities as an underground hero was to bring them in.
The detective Aizawa was working with, Tsukauchi Naomasa, had some 'experience' with this vigilante. Namely the notes addressed to "Mister Detective Detector Sir", followed by a small doodle of a bunny's silhouette. Their signature. No one at the station could figure out how they knew about Naomasa's quirk without coming into contact with him. It's not like that was public information.
Few have met this eluded vigilante face-to-face, but even without directly seeing them, they seem to emit this aura of a playful and energetic personality. Perhaps childish, if not for the absurd number of villain takedowns tied to their name. In only a month's time, there have been a reported thirty-six cases involving "Rabbit", as they've been dubbed, all without any evidence of a true identity, quirk, or even appearance.
On the receiving end of Rabbit's power have been injuries ranging from blunt force trauma to the head, to blood loss; nothing anywhere near fatal— all resulting in the victim's memory becoming an unreliable source of information. Sure, none of these people were innocent, but this "Rabbit" is trying awfully hard to remain a mystery. The only consistent details from interrogations being a terrified utterance of the word "bunny", adding to the vigilante's reputation. It was also hilarious to see grown men tremble at such an innocent sounding name.
To Shouta, it makes no logical sense. Vigilantes tended to be on the younger side, not good enough to get their licence, but with too much power that would go to waste otherwise. Most vigilantes were just one time illegal quirk users. That is the definition of vigilantism in their society. But this one was consistent.
Yes, there was no recorded quirk usage and no, fighting back in self-defense was not punishable by any law, so technically they would not be able to make any accusations against the anomaly that was Rabbit. But if they clearly weren't looking for attention, what was it? Shouldn't they have tried to pursue a heroic education if that was their true motive? Someone with such a powerful quirk as to take down so many criminals while staying under the radar should have no issues getting into a hero school like Shiketsu, or even Yuuei.
Assuming that Rabbit's untraceable status was the result of a quirk, Shouta pondered. As an established pro-hero with a quirk described as "non flashy" and to his grade-school peers, "villainous", Shouta was a tad bit more open minded to possibilities of obscure or distasteful quirks.
Even while lost in thought, Eraserhead retained an acute awareness of his surroundings, and was immediately on edge at hearing something crash in the alleyway below his current perch. Expecting a drunk, a homeless person, or at worst; a villain, Shouta kept a firm clutch on his capture weapon whilst descending from the rooftop via the fire escape. What Shouta was not expecting was to see the aforementioned man-of-the-hour, currently lying next to a cluster of wooden palettes. By their dazed muttering, Shouta could tell they were somewhere on a scale from disorientated to concussed.
"Rabbit." Aizawa's muttered voice reflected his own exhaustion. He had never seen the vigilante- no one had, yet he knew exactly how to name the figure in front of him.
They didn't look like much. Wearing a dark green hoodie and shorts over a black, form-fitting jumpsuit. True to their name, the hood had a pair of bunny ears flopping over it's sides. The only thing that could be considered unordinary about them was the sheer amount of pockets they had. No joke, combining every pocket visible on Rabbit's body, there were enough to make a store full of cargo shorts jealous. And the mask covering a good portion of their face. That was also strange.
To the untrained eye, one may think Rabbit was a skilled hero. But what Eraserhead saw was, at best, an ameteur kid. There was nothing professional about their local-store DIY getup. Shouta has no frame of reference to their combat skills, but surely they were clumsy enough to have landed into this situation. As for the kid part, even standing a good few meters away, Shouta could tell they were tiny. Not just compared to his six-foot-and-towering-over-most-other-people height, but unhealthy small.
By how bony their exposed limbs appeared, it wasn't hard to tell that Rabbit, whoever they were, likely needed medical attention. And a nice meal.
"Oi, kid," Shouta spoke up again, as it was likely the other party didn't hear him the first time. This time though, Rabbit groaned and looked up to where Eraserhead was standing. He moved closer and nudged Rabbit with his foot. "Kid?"
Shouta, obviously, already knew exactly who he was speaking to. Yet, he wanted to play his cards right to see what he could gather from the kid in front of him. A name, an age, quirk status; anything would be nice.
"O-oh! Uh, well, this is embarrassing." A high-pitched, cracking, nervous voice reached Shouta's ears. "You-you're Eraserhead, right? I, uh, I'm sorry about all this. I'm, um, cosplaying? Yeah, that."
Shouta was not impressed. "Kid, listen. You're not fooling anyone here."
Rabbit's head quirked to the side, conveying either confusion or curiosity. "But, uh, there's only the two of us."
"Exactly. What's your name?"
They realized that lying would get them nowhere now. "You guys at the station have been calling me Rabbit, right?" They brought their hand up to their chin in thought before continuing. "Well I guess you weren't that far off. Uh, I prefer to go by Jack Rabbit."
Well. Not a real name, but it's a start. "So, Jack Rabbit-"
"Just Rabbit is fine. Or just Jack. Either is alright, the whole thing is kinda a mouthful but I won't stop you if you think it sounds nice because, I mean, I did pick out the name, it sounded pretty cool at the time," Jack Rabbit continued to mutter about the likeness of their vigilante alias.
"Kid-"
"Why do you call me 'kid'? You don't even know how old I am." Jack Rabbit sprung up just to get in Eraserhead's face. "I could be in my thirties, y'know?"
Shouta's remaining energy was being drained by the second being around the lively vigilante. "Yeah, with that voice of yours, I doubt it. You sound like a schoolgirl."
Rabbit was offended by that. It was interesting to see how well they portrayed their emotions whilst their face was not visible.
"I am not a girl!" They— he, did not notice how his voice pitched upwards with that statement.
"Uh huh, so you're just a schoolboy with a deceivingly feminine voice?"
"Uh, well, I mean when you put it that way," he seemed embarrassed and tugged on the left ear of his hood. "Wait- no, I'm not a schoolboy!"
"Right, and I'm All Might," the underground hero sarcastically drawled.
Jack Rabbit let out an exasperated huff. "I'm not lying, you have to attend school to be considered a schoolboy, right?" Shouta was a bit concerned as it was basically confirmed that Jack Rabbit, a wanted vigilante, is young enough to be in school.
"But you should be in school."
"Legally? Yeah."
Shouta prided internally. He's gotten both an unofficial name and an age range during this brief meeting. "Listen, how about I walk you home so you don't get into any more trouble tonight, yeah?"
That was a bit of a lie. Shouta wanted to bring Jack Rabbit to Naomosa for questioning. It was very unlikely he would get the chance to do this again. On the other hand, he also wanted to make sure the kid was safe. He was twitchy, disoriented, and most likely malnourished. Who knows what kinds of injuries were hiding under his costume?
Jack Rabbit perked up at hearing Eraserhead wanted to escort him home. He laughed, breathy and nervous. "No can do, Mister Eraser sir, I, uh, have other things to do."
Jack Rabbit started slowly inching backwards, towards the entrance of the alley and away from Eraserhead. Shouta knew that he would bolt at the first chance given, and tightened his grip on the capture weapon in preparation for using it on Rabbit.
Or, he would have, had the vigilante not squeaked out a meek apology, followed by a flashbang. Shouta was quick to cover his eyes and blindly throw out the capture gear. It caught on nothing but air.
When Shouta finally opened his eyes again, the only thing left behind being a small piece of paper, etched with the silhouette of a Rabbit.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit
Was the only thing going through Izuku's mind as he ran as far away from that alleyway as possible. What was he thinking? Was he being followed?
His lungs started to heave, but he did not slow down. He couldn't risk getting caught. He had to use his last homemade hero-repellent flashbang, so it would suck to have that sacrifice in vain.
Izuku skidded into another alleyway, hastily scaling the inside wall of a building he knew had a decent rooftop. Usually he'd go there on breaks from his vigilante-ing or to have a scenic lunch spot. At midnight. His eating schedule was a little off but he got the spirit.
A soft, questioning 'mrrow' of a cat caught his attention a third way up to the top. Sure enough, it was one of his precious-soft-murder-baby alley cats. It was too dark to see their patterning, but there was only one that would be up at this time and in this area.
"Small Might?" Another mew. Yep, this was the golden-brown Maine Coon that Izuku had come to know and love over the months after meeting it.
They had a lot in common. Tiny, big eyes, starving, orphaned, scarred, and y'know, absolutely adorable.
Small might; along with Paw-ks, Meow-ko, Ragdoll, Pixie-bob, Mandalay, Tiger, Sir Nyah-eye, Inge-nya-um, and many other shitty cat pun hero names for cats, are the highlight of Izuku's life. Cats don't care if everyone else hated you. As long as you respect their distance and have food.
The cats were all named after heros, a reflection of Izuku's childhood obsession. Not to say he doesn't still admire them, but his views have been dampened over the years. He's seen firsthand how little they care about the minority population.
They'll save a quirkless person, give them an autograph, spin some bullshit about how 'anyone can make a difference in the world', then not even give a second glance once the cameras turn off. The less than great heros would only watch on as a quirkless victim takes their last breath, feeling nothing just because they were not blessed with a formidable superpower.
Enter Midoriya Izuku. Born with one extra joint in his pinkie toe. Diagnosed quirkless, like it was some kind of disease. He can recall a phone call between his parents, his mother afraid, his father disgusted. At their own son.
Midoriya Hisashi never returned.
Midoriya Inko treated her son like glass.
Midoriya Izuku never gave up.
He knew that he lost a friend in Kacchan, gaining an enemy in Bakugou Katsuki; with both his superiority and inferiority complex. Izuku could see that Kacchan needed to prove himself. He needed to prove how good of a hero he would be one day. He needed to protect useless Deku, who would surely die in the hero world.
Izuku never gave up trying to follow Kacchan. Through every starburst of burn scars, every costume design burned to a crisp, every hero analysis ripped to shreds, every day of going home to his wonderful mother who could never see past the smile he sticks on; Izuku persisted.
Yes, Izuku knew that he would have to work a hundred times harder than anyone else to achieve his dreams. He was aware that he'd be doing this alone.
And if he were able to save someone like himself, with a smile on his face? It would all be worth it.
What a fucking pity that this universe never gave him a godforsaken break.
Beneath him, Small Might meowed again, demanding Izuku's attention. The cat was smart like that. And who was Izuku to refuse a cute little kitty?
Izuku clambered down from the wall to reach where Small Might was sitting. His bright red shoes made a small thump, scattering dust on the ground where he landed. Small Might knew the human well enough not to flinch.
Once Izuku had gained his bearings, Small Might treaded forwards to rub himself against Izuku's leg. The cat's knotted, yellow fur being a stark contrast to the vigilante's dark aesthetic. Small Might's purrs were deep and baritone, shaking its frail body.
Carefully scooping up the cat, Izuku once again scaled the wall with his furry companion. Small Might was content to wrap around Izuku's shoulders while he climbed. The gloves Izuku wore had a special grip to help him on occasions like this, but still he relied mostly upon his own body strength.
Reaching the top ledge, Izuku hoisted himself up while the cat jumped out of his arms and trodded over to its usual spot. Its paws made faint clicking sounds on the roof's material. Not much had changed since the last time Izuku was up here.
A fair bit of trash lay about the area, mostly cigarette butts and loose wrappings. There was a bunch of mechanical stuff, probably for things like power and electricity, but Izuku didn't know shit about that and left them alone. The building was maybe two or three stories high, so the view was nothing spectacular. But it was calm. He's never seen anyone else up here, and his setup has never been messed with.
Not that it's much. There's a wire tent structure covered by a large tarp. Izuku had to put that together himself. In that is an All Might patterned blanket with some wear and tear to it. Inside the makeshift tent is a cardboard box filled halfway with some comfort snacks, energy drinks, and a loaf of bread he uses to throw at Hawks whenever the occasion arises.
This isn't Izuku's home. This is Jack Rabbit's place to stay. Izuku has an apartment he rented with the child support money his dad sends every month. The rooftop is to make sure he doesn't get tailed back home. And in case he gets the munchies during a patrol. He has quite a few of these scattered across his patrol territories. They look unassuming and undetectable, hidden in plain sight.
Setting himself down as lightly as possible onto the blanket, Izuku finally let himself relax after his run-in with Eraserhead. His heartbeat slowed down to the point he could no longer hear the blood roaring in his ears.
With the adrenaline fading away, Izuku was left with a headache and the all too familiar hunger pains. They didn't bother him too much anymore, but it still sucked. Wanting to at least subside his hunger, he reached for a box of green tea flavored Pocky from the snack box. Izuku tended to gravitate towards anything green, for a handful of reasons. Mainly it being the color of him and his mother's hair alike.
Before eating, Izuku took off his hoodie. Not that it wasn't cold out; god, every breath he took in was a painful kind of cold, but the look was traceable to his other persona. Good news; he's prepared for that. When flipped inside out, the hoodie took the appearance of a standard All Might print. Nothing suspicious about a hero fan, right? The only downside of a reversible top is that all the pockets and their contents are now pressed against the teen's skin.
Now in his 'civilian form', as Izuku likes to call it because it makes him feel more like a hero, he started munching on the Pocky sticks. He actually liked the chocolate ones better, but is determined to keep a constant vibe.
It's a plus to see the amusement on a cashier's face when they saw a small boy with a shrub for hair carrying a basket full of equally green items. Good thing that green foods tasted decent. Except for mint, that toothpaste-y shit tastes nasty.
Izuku settled back onto the blanket, the tarp providing the thinnest of protection against harsh winds. Hit by another bout of nausea, he set the box down in fear of the snack coming back up if he continued to eat.
Small Might sniffed around the area for a little while longer, before returning to Izuku's side. Being the me of the more affectionate strays, it nudged Izuku's arm up to slip under and nuzzle his chin.
With the combined warmth of a cat cuddled close to his body and the insulated hoodie, Izuku was lulled into a dreamless sleep.