Izuku woke up to the feeling of gritty concrete against his cheek. Blearily opening his eyes and blinking dark spots away, he realized he was laying in the middle of an alleyway. He shakily pushed himself up with his hands and quickly jolted in shock. It was then that he took in the sharp scent of the blood covering his hands and even more of his body. His clothes were in shreds.

'What happened?'

A million thoughts and memories were running through his head as he started to hyperventilate. "Oh my God. I did that. They...,"

Sounds of snarling, screaming, and ripping reverberated through his head.

"I-I really... th-they really are..." His voice was distorted and overlapping. Izuku gulped down tears as he tried to breathe. He didn't deserve to cry. "I'm a monster." He whispered to himself. The plethora of voices added to the clenching feeling in his stomach. As his panic grew, an itching sensation started spreading across his chest.

Looking down, he nearly screamed at the black fog starting to cover his torso. "No, no, no, no, no-" He tried to wipe the fog off with his hands. "No- stop!" The fog only got bigger. Not knowing what to do, Izuku curled up in a ball and decided to focus on trying to breathe. Slowly but surely, the fog disappeared.

Still breathing deeply, Izuku decided. "I can't go home." He was shaking, trying to keep himself under control. "I'm dangerous. I could hurt mom." After all, wasn't that all he had left? "I need to go where other people won't." Thankfully, Izuku knew of such a place.

----

Fortunately, Izuku woke up in an alleyway that wasn't far from his destination, Dagobah beach. He quickly ran there using the low level of light from the readily approaching dawn.

When he reached the beach, he hiked far into trash filled mountains until he came to the beginnings of a clearing on the far west side. Like the rest of the beach, it was covered in trash, but it had a much lower level of trash to its surroundings. So much so that it was possible to see the sand under the garbage. As the sun rose over the city, Izuku got to work.

As soon as he was done clearing the trash to the edges of the space, Izuku went material hunting. He found an old camping tarp closer to the center of the beach, as well as a few water proof containers and crates of old bungey cords, two broken tents, and various camping supplies. Almost all of the camping equipment was unusable due to rust, rot, or damage, but Izuku was able to salvage a couple pots and a few items from a plastic dishware set.

Making his way back to the clearing, Izuku realized something. 'I'm going to need food...and stuff to build a shelter.' He set the items he found in the center of the clearing. He quickly came up with a plan to build a canopy using the old tarp, bungey cords, and broken tent pieces. However, he needed some things.

That is what started Izuku's internal debate. He needed supplies that didn't come from the beach, but he didn't have any money to buy them. He could get food from the local homeless shelter, so he wasn't worried about that. What he needed was things like ducttape, a lighter, clothes, and other small items. After a while of arguing with himself, Izuku made a decision. He needed to visit home.

He knew his mom wouldn't be home, and it had many of the things he needed. His only concerns were if he got caught. He was a murderer, a monster, a danger to those around him. He didn't know what they would do with him.

Despite his concerns, Izuku went. He walked to his old home with his head down. Instead of using the stairs, he used the fire escape that connected to his room. He knew that the window would be unlocked. He quickly slipped through the window and started grabbing things.

The first thing he grabbed was a bag from his closet that he stuffed with clothes, his first aid kit, and the money in his dresser. He snuck into the kitchen and took the lighter, some silverware, a reusable water bottle, and some dried food. He also took some soap and toiletries from the bathroom. It was there that he caught his reflection in the mirror and paused.

It was the first time he was seeing himself after the incident. He was a mess. He was dirty and covered with dried blood. His face was tired. The largest difference was his hair.

He was developing white streaks. Izuku sighed, belatedly.

'Oh well. It's one more thing keeping them from identifying me.'

He took the chance to wash off the majority of the blood and grime. The last thing he took was a pair of spare shoes and a blanket and pillow from the hall closet. He didn't want to take them from his room because it would be a sign that he was here. Slinging the bag onto his back, he slipped back out the window. He quickly made his way back towards the beach, grateful that most people didn't ask questions as he passed them.

The supplies he grabbed were essential to his new life. After getting dressed in some of the clothes he took, Izuku built the canopy and set up his bed underneath it. He organized the rest of his things in the containers before setting them on the other side. Once he was done building his shelter, Izuku dug out a circle in the sand a short distance from the shelter opening. He grabbed some of the more clean but flammable trash and placed it in the center for later. When he was done, he laid down in his bed and took a much needed nap.

----

The next couple of days were very different than what Bakugo was used to. The school opperations had been moved to a large building a couple blocks away. For one, ever since he got attacked by that slime extra and was saved by some eldritch creature, no one would stop asking him for details. It was grating on Bakugo's last nerve everytime someone came to him for entertainment. The second was that his parents were sidestepping around him, treating him like glass, as if there was something they wanted to say but just couldn't. It was annoying and frustrating.

The third was the funerals. They had a mass funeral for all the teachers killed in the attack. Bakugo didn't feel much about it. He didn't know many of his teachers personally, and they all acted like suck ups to him. It made him feel out of place in the whole ordeal. What happened after the mass funeral was what mattered. His mom drove them to a different section of the grave yard. At his confusion, his mom explained that the nerd had 'passed away' the same day as the attack. She was surprised at his shock.

"Didn't your school hold an assembly for everyone who was taken in the attack?"

"Yeah!? They didn't say anything about him!"

His mother went silent, clenching the steering wheel. Immense guilt overtook Bakugo. It was easy to peice together what might have happened. "How did he die?"

His mother responded in a much quieter voice than normal. "Inko won't tell me, but it's easy to see that it had to do with what happened at the school."

It was then that Bakugo realized why they were there. "We're attending his funeral." He stated numbly.

His mother hesitated before answering. "Yes. We thought they had told you at school, so we were waiting for things to sink in before having one." Evidently, this puts all their consideration to waste.

Bakugo just sat there, filtering through different layers of shock, then disbelief, then anger, and then an amalgamation of different feelings Bakugo couldn't describe.

----

The week after the incident, Izuku settled into a routine. He would wake up, clear some of the trash from the beach, sell whatever looked valuable to a parts shop a few blocks away, and go to the library.

He couldn't spend all day at the beach, no matter how much he wanted to avoid people, so this was the next best thing. He didn't have to talk at the library, and people left him alone. The same went for the soup kitchens. What he didn't expect was how much gossiping and hidden discussions he would overhear. He had been leaving anonymous tips for the police station like a good samaritan should, but he didn't feel like he was doing enough.

It wasn't until he heard about a trafficking deal by the pier taking place within a few hours that he finally took some action into his own hands. He called what he heard into the police tipline and prepared himself. He didn't change much from his regular appearance, only making sure his face was fully covered and wearing gloves, so he wasn't identified.

He hung around the upper cargoship containers near the drop-off site for a couple hours before anything happened. Around 10 pm, a car drove up and a couple minutes later another car followed. Three men exited the vehicles, one was carrying a struggling little girl.
As the men started arguing, Izuku snuck up behind the man carrying the girl, hit him in a pressure point, and started running as far away as could with the girl in his arms before the other men noticed. Initially, the girl struggled against him too before realizing that he was shorter and younger than the other men and taking her away.

"Are you saving me?" She asked, looking into his mask covered face, her voice barely a whisper over the wind. Izuku nodded, not wanting to scare her with his voice. Eventually, Izuku had to slow down, and yelling started coming closer. Then the noise abruptly stopped. The next thing Izuku knew, he was being wrapped in a very durable light grey coil of fabric, forcing him to drop the girl. A man, hair and clothes disheveled, dropped from the shipping containers above them, hair floating and eyes blazing red.

"Escaping is futile. Don't try." The man said in a very serious monotone voice. It was then that the girl spoke up. "Don't hurt him, sir! He saved me from the bad men!" The man considered her statement before releasing the bindings. "I appreciate the effort, but don't go into things like this without proper training. You might die." Izuku nodded. The man picked up the little girl before turning back to Izuku. "You better leave. The police will arrive here shortly." Izuku nodded again, and ran as fast as he could away from the pier.

Thus went Izuku's first true vigilantism experience. He took the advice to heart. When he heard hushed conversations in the soup kitchen's cafeteria, he started following up on what he heard. Thankfully, hardrives are significantly cheaper these days, and library computers are free to use by neglect. All he needed was to pay a small sum to buy a repaired phone from the parts store, and he was set on making case portfolios to send to the police.

Though, his efforts in stealth and espionage could use some work. He was nearly caught several times by the disheveled man, who he now knew as Eraserhead. The first time Izuku delivered a hardrive, he snuck it into the hero's pocket with a bit of ducttape and notified the hero of its existence immediately before leaving the vicinity.

There was something Izuku knew to be true in this new life he had: he had the ability to help, to save, and to attone for something he would never forgive. Izuku could only hope that was enough to keep the monster under his skin appeased.

An:
We stan MHA Vigilantes accurate Aizawa. He lowkey does not care about vigilantism if a quirk isn't being used. Plus, underground heroes would probably benefit from having local ears and eyes to help them fight villains.

Everyone lowkey thinks Izuku is dead. This is important later on.