"Step away from Arashi. If you want to fight, then fight someone who wasn't bleeding out just a few minutes ago."

The newly arrived member called out to Eraserhead, successfully getting his attention. This newcomer wore a shoulder-less black baggy shirt and a white skirt, topped off with long white socks and black combat boots. This newcomer was a vigilante, a vigilante part of the group Matryoshka. This vigilante was named 'Yuki'.

"Great. Another one. Y'know? You all look like children, and I don't like hurting kids. Turn yourselves in and I can convince them to let you guys off the hook. If you keep doing this, you'll get caught eventually and we'll have to give you the punishment you deserve."

"I'd like to see them try."

Eraserhead almost would have missed that phrase, but since Arashi had muttered it just loud enough for him to hear, he managed to catch it and the cogs in his brain started turning. In fact, he looked so confused and irritated by the stubbornness of these illegal heroes that you could probably hear the cogs if you stepped closer.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that they won't catch us. It's either we die fighting then off, or they die trying. We're not as stupid as you think we are. We're not handing ourselves in because you said so."

Sighing in discontent, Eraserhead muttered out his phrase:

"I guess you leave me no choice but to take you by force."

He leapt at the two vigilantes and threw his capture weapon out, intending to catch both of them. In a flash, Yuki picked up Arashi and dashed out of the alleyway, before putting him at a on the side of the pavement. She shook her arm, watching as a fan slid out of her sleeve and into her hand perfectly. She clicked on a small button located on the bottom of her fan and a blade slipped out of the fan's skeleton, before getting locked into place. The blade was incredibly sharp, sharp enough to cut through a plank of wood like a hot knife through butter.

This time, she took the attacking side and ran at the underground hero. Aizawa, seeing her with her knife in hand, threw out his capture weapon, fully intending on it wrapping around her wrist and pulling her to the ground. Unfortunately, his plan didn't exactly work out, since Yuki immediately sliced through his capture weapon without a problem. A thick gas-like substance started appearing around the young vigilante. Just as his eyes were starting to flare to a bright red, he suddenly felt his quirk get forcefully pushed down.

What? Why can't I use my quirk? I can feel it being activated, but it's not working? They're not having any reactions.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Aizawa found himself completely enveloped in the strange white mist. The mist was as thick as fog and he couldn't see anything through it. Before he realized, the two vigilantes fled the scene, and it was only when the mist dissipated that he found out they were gone.

•

Carrying an injured broccoli in her arms, she ran down the streets, being careful to hide in alleyways when a car passed by.

"Arashi! You were being reckless again! I know I'm not much older than you, but you still feel like a younger brother to me, so can you please not get stabbed three times in the stomach while on patrol? Do you know how terrified I was when I got that emergency alert from you?" The female vigilante yelled, worry laced in her voice.

"I- I'm sorry.. I'll try to be more careful..." the green haired boy muttered out.

"... Izuku, I'm not mad at you. I just don't want to hear that alert ever again. I know I made that alert to notify each other when something bad happens, but I would rather it never be used than see you bleeding out in an alleyway, trying to fight a hero too strong for your current state. I can't afford to lose you."

Hearing those words definitely comforted the young boy and reassured him, he knew she was trying to comfort him, and not just lying to him to make him happier because she never used his civilian name when in costume. You see, Midoriya did not have many friends, his only friends being in the vigilante group he was a part of, which means even having one of his friends be mad at him would make him feel terrible.

"I'll ring Ame. She can heal you up."

The rest of the trip went quietly, and despite the silence, they were comfortable.

When they finally arrived at their vigilante base, they were greeted by another vigilante. She wasn't wearing her costume, instead wearing a comfortable warm grey sweater and leggings.

"You're here! Izuku, don't just stay there, I need you heal you up."

She went and grabbed a towel, drenching it in cold water. She lifted up the boy's shirt and pulled off the hastily wrapped bandages. Hydrogen peroxide poured down his wounds like a cascade, causing him to hiss slightly in pain. She then proceeded to clean the cuts with the towel.

The vigilante put her right hand down to the young boy's stomach, the wound rapidly healing up. Just as she used her power, her deep rose red hair radiated a bright light, and her hair faded to a coral pink from the roots down. Rose red and bright white streams of energy swirled down her arm to where Midoriya's injuries were, and the wounds healed up completely.

Her quirk still fascinated Midoriya, despite the many times he's seen it in action. He knew vaguely what the quirk did, but he still had trouble figuring out the details. Her quirk was a special one. She could heal someone up within seconds without draining energy from either parties. He hair colour gets lighter when she uses her quirk though, but every time he sees her again her hair becomes a deep rose red once more. Her quirk was strange, but he'll figure it out.

"Izuku. Don't scare us like that again. I know they're not here right now, but I'm sure Hyō and Kiri were worried sick too. They were screaming down the phone when I called them to check in on their end. I had to stop fighting those thugs AND skip the rest of my patrol to come take care of you!"

Now, Midoriya wasn't the best at taking things the right way, but he knew that that was just the girl's way of showing concern. She may have said it a bit too harshly, but he caught on when she said that they were worried.

"I'm sorry.. I'll try not to get hurt like that again.."

He was glad to have friends who would go out of their way to take care of him, comfort him when he was down, and help him back up if he fell. He honestly didn't know what would happen if he had never met them.

Soon, two others rushed in through the door.

"Izuku! Are you okay?"

"What were you thinking, Zuku?"

Both of them immediately jumped the small boy, expressing their concerns in a flurry of questions.

"Guys, he's fine. Kame got to him and brought him back here. I already fixed him up." The pink haired girl said calmly.

"Yeah..! Haru, Toshi, it's fine!"

Despite none of his friends believing him when he said that, they still have him a reassuring smile, showing him that they trusted him to not get mauled by a hero again.

•

"Tsukauchi. I have reason to believe that the Matryoshka group is composed of young teenagers." A very tired hero muttered out.

"And that reason is..?" The detective on the other side of the line said.

"I saw two of them today. Yuki and Arashi, more specifically, and I swear to god Arashi looks like he's a four foot tall dwarf from Snow White."

"And what else happened..?"

"Arashi got stabbed in the stomach three times and was trying to fight me before Yuki came in and swooped him away."

"And you just let an injured, presumed teenager, get away?"

"Well, I can't do much when my capture weapon gets cut in half and my quirk doesn't work."

"What the fuck do you mean your quirk doesn't work?"

"Well, the vigilante Yuki made this strange fog like thing and I tried to erase her quirk, but my quirk was just not working."

"And you didn't think of telling me this earlier? There's a vigilante out there that might be able to make quirks defective and you didn't think of saying anything?" Tsukauchi yelled into the phone, worry evident in his voice.

"Well I was on patrol and my quirk worked just fine afterwards, so I didn't see much of a problem..?"

"Fine... Just come to the station later to talk about the situation, okay?"

"Alright." Aizawa said, hanging up.

•

Aizawa trudged into his classroom, seeing the bunch of kids already chatting away. He walked to the front of the classroom and cleared his throat.

"This week, we'll be going to the USJ, or the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, to be exact. I'll tell you all the details when we get there, but long story short, you're gonna be practicing your quirks. Alright, do what you want, I'm going to sleep."

Aizawa slipped into his sleeping bag and simultaneously morphed into a caterpillar. The class immediately bursted into loud chattering.

Outside the windows of the classroom, a shadow remained perched on top of a tree, observing every movement of the students. The shadow opened their eyes, which had became a bright, shining blue colour that stared into the future; the near future of class 1-A.

•

Midoriya Izuku sat in his class, listening to his teacher speak and taking notes. He was attending a regular high school like a regular fifteen-year old boy. Of course, it wasn't that he hadn't tried to go to his dream school; UA, it's that the report card he was going to use to get into the entrance exams was torn to shreds. UA might have been a prestigious hero school that you can get into by sheer performance in exams, but they still required a report card. UA might have been a school accepting of all people, but that didn't mean they would take someone with no proof of their academic performances, and so, with his lack of evidence of his grades from his last year of junior high, he was immediately rejected from even taking the entrance exams.

"Midoriya, answer this question." The math teacher said as he watched the young boy walk to the front of the classroom and write the solution on the blackboard. After writing the dull solution to the question, Midoriya walked back to his seat and sat down.

"That answer is correct. Does anyone have any questions?" The teacher asked as he watched hands raise among the flock of students. The students asked their questions and the teacher answered them.

"Alright, for those at the back who still don't understand, I'll explain this problem one last time, since we have more material to cover this class. We get the base of the triangle by..."

Midoriya listened to the teacher ramble on as he started doodling new ideas for support items for his vigilante endeavours. He wasn't really paying attention to what the teacher was saying, and could you blame him? Math was a simple subject; memorize the formulas, bring a calculator, and you're good to go.

And so, he kept on drawing, occasionally answering questions when the teacher called on him.

After a few hours, his school day was over and he went home. Midoriya opened his backpack and got out the key to the front door, before sneaking in as quietly as possible. He didn't want to disturb his mother since she was resting. She had taken a day off for a single day, and he didn't want it to go to waste.

The boy closed the door behind him and walked to his room. He sat down at his old and beat up laptop and started scanning his sketches into an art program using a printer he salvaged from Dagobah Beach. It took him quite a few days to find all the scrap pieces the original printer was missing, and it took him even longer to figure out how to assemble a printer, but after many failed attempts and pieces blowing up in his face, he managed to rebuild it.

He added the finer details to his designs, coloured it all in, and wrote down the different materials for each piece, before calling it a day and saving his sketches to a very well hidden folder.

"Izuku! I'm making katsudon for dinner! Is there anything else you want?"

Quickly giving his mother a negative response, the green haired boy closed the running programs and applications on his cheap laptop and turned it off. He took out his homework from his backpack and started filling in the blank spaces on the papers that were reserved for answers. He knew it was still pretty early, and he still had many hours left in the day to do his work, but he wanted to start early.

It wasn't because he wanted to be the model student who did their work before it was handed out, but because the teacher would always give him more work than his peers. His teacher would always act like he didn't discriminate against the quirkless during class, but he would always give him more homework than he gave the rest of the class, whether it was by a small amount of pages, or the equivalent of a one hundred page novel.

Midoriya continued doing his homework, not hearing his mother call out for him when dinner was ready.

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Look at me, publishing a few days before the one month mark. Welp, see you all in a few weeks when I actually do something for once-

Word count: 2331

-LyN