Chapter 5-10(MHA)

Chapter 6

Then he was off.

In a blur of motion that felt both natural and unreal, Izuku dashed forward. His body felt lighter than ever before, and the world around him seemed to slow slightly just enough for him to reach the girl with perfect timing. He swept her up in his arms, pivoted on his heel, and jumped out of the road just as the car screeched past them, missing them by inches.

He landed smoothly, one knee bent, the girl held tightly against his chest. Her wide eyes stared up at him in silent awe.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, his voice calm despite the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

The girl looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her round cheeks, short brown hair, and familiar eyes made him smile behind his hoodie.

‘Well, if it isn’t Uraraka,’ he thought.

She gave a small nod, lips trembling as tears began to spill down her cheeks.

Then suddenly, the Assignment Board appeared again in front of his eyes, glowing brightly:

[MISSION COMPLETE]
✔ +1% Power Gained
✔ Hand-to-Hand Combat (Beginner) Unlocked
✔ Bonus Rewards Received

He gently placed the small Uraraka back on the ground just as a frantic woman, her mother, came sprinting over, scooping her up in a tight embrace.

Without waiting for thanks or recognition, Izuku turned away and stepped into the crowd. Before anyone could catch a good look at him, he’d already vanished down a narrow alleyway, his hoodie drawn low over his face.

‘So that’s how it feels… not bad at all,’ he thought with a small smirk.

Izuku walked along the quiet beach, waves crashing gently against the shore as the early morning breeze brushed through his hoodie. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before focusing his thoughts.

He summoned the Superman suit.

A flash of light burst before him, and the iconic red-and-blue outfit appeared, floating in the air—though, unsurprisingly, it was triple his current size.

“Cool… but let’s tweak this a bit,” he thought, grinning to himself.

He focused on the colors.

“I want it green, with a glowing ‘S’ on the chest.”

Instantly, the suit shimmered and shifted, the reds turning into deep forest green, and the ‘S’ emblem pulsed faintly with radiant emerald light. A few more adjustments to the boots, gloves, and cape, and it finally matched his taste.

‘Nice,’ he thought, arms crossed proudly.

But then he frowned. “How the hell am I supposed to wear this thing? It’s huge—”

Before he could finish the thought, the suit suddenly dissolved into particles of glowing energy and surged into his body. His eyes widened as he felt the suit wrap around him from the inside out, materializing perfectly onto his skin like a second layer.

He looked down in awe. It fit him perfectly.

“Man, this is freaking awesome… and it's my size now. Too bad I’m still a pipsqueak,” he muttered, flexing his arm with a small grin. “Still… can’t wait to get into U.A.”

With that, he clenched his fists and gazed out over the ocean.

....

[10 Years Later]

Izuku had changed.

He’d grown taller—much taller than anyone had expected, even to the amazement of his own mother, who often looked up at her son now with a stunned expression when she saw him. His once slightly awkward features had matured, sharpening into a jawline that could cut steel and eyes that carried a calm yet magnetic intensity. To say he was handsome would be an understatement—he was dangerously good-looking.

So much so, in fact, that nearly every girl in class had fallen for him—hard.

Right now, Izuku was slouched at the back of the classroom, one arm resting lazily on the desk as he stared out the window. The sunlight hit his face just right, casting a golden glow over his already perfect features. His emerald hair was slightly tousled, giving him an effortlessly cool look that only made things worse for everyone else.

Meanwhile, the rest of the class was in chaos—or more specifically, the girls were.

All eyes were on him. Every single girl had turned in her seat, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling like a shoujo manga panel. Hearts practically floated around their heads.

“Alright, class, please spell handsome,” the teacher said with a playful tone, clearly aware of the atmosphere.

Without missing a beat, the girls responded in perfect, love-struck unison.

“I-Z-U-K-U M-I-D-O-R-I-Y-A!”

Izuku slowly turned his head to look at them, face deadpan, expression blank.

The girls swooned like dominoes, hands to their cheeks, some nearly falling out of their chairs. A collective sigh of dreamy adoration filled the air like perfume.

The boys, meanwhile, sat in steaming silence. Gritting teeth. Clenched fists. One guy snapped his pencil. Another muttered darkly under his breath. Their eyes glared daggers at the living embodiment of every romantic rival they’d ever imagined.

‘I swear to God these girls be trippin', dawg,’ Izuku thought, blinking slowly as he turned back to the window, tuning out the chaos behind him.


[A/N: This is a reference to a TikTok anime meme. Just search " I Swear To God These Girls Be tripping meme on TikTok if you don't get it I hate explaining jokes, but if you understood it. Than I see a hot loyal yandere Asian baddie in your future ]

Class had finally ended.

With his bag slung lazily over his shoulder, Izuku walked out of the classroom, ignoring the dreamy stares still being thrown his way by half the girls behind him. His tall frame drew attention whether he wanted it or not, but he didn’t care. His mind was elsewhere.

‘It’s been 10 years... and things have been going great.’

A small, satisfied smile touched his lips.

In the last decade, Izuku had done more saving than half the professional hero agencies combined—excluding All Might, of course. No one could top him. But still, the numbers didn’t lie. He’d become the talk of Japan, hailed on social media and whispered about in alleyways.

They called him the Hoodie Hero—a ghost in the streets, a savior in the shadows. Always wearing a plain black hoodie, no flashy costume, no media presence. Just results.

To the average citizen, he was a miracle.

To the Hero Commission?

A nuisance. A crook. A vigilante who operated outside the system, stepping on toes and snatching headlines from licensed heroes just trying to make a living.

But to Izuku?

He was just doing what needed to be done.

In ten years, he’d saved over 500 people.

100 robberies thwarted.

150 hostage situations resolved.

250 suicide attempts prevented.
The rest? Just your average drug-enhanced villains and street-level chaos.


‘Seriously, what is Japan’s problem with suicide?’ he thought with a sigh, walking through the school gates. ‘They gotta fix that.’

By the time he reached his neighborhood, the scenery had changed dramatically. Gone were the clustered apartment blocks and narrow alleys. Now he walked through a serene, high-end residential area, lined with trimmed hedges, luxury cars, and modern mansions that oozed money.

He stopped in front of the second-largest house on the block, its sleek design mixing glass and stone, a beautiful matte-black sports car parked in the driveway.

He opened the door and stepped inside, a grin on his face.

“Man, I love my house,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes and heading down the polished stairs.

Financially? Izuku was set for life. Thanks to his knowledge of the future, he’d invested in all the right places—stocks, tech startups, crypto, real estate. Every risk was a guarantee to him. And with every boom, his bank account exploded.

Now, he was practically a teenage tycoon… not that anyone outside his mom really knew.

He made his way down into the home gym, where the sound of rhythmic beeping and sneakers pounding echoed in the room. Inko was on the treadmill, sweat glistening on her forehead, laser-focused on the screen in front of her.

“I’m back, Mom,” Izuku called out casually.

She glanced over and smiled, slowing the machine before hopping off and grabbing a towel.

“How was school?”

“Pretty boring as usual, I guess. I’ll go and study since I’ve got nothing better to do,” he said with a small shrug.

“Alright, well have fun,” she replied, taking a sip of water. “I still need to beat this dumb girl called Rabbit Power. She’s fast as hell.”

Izuku chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he turned to go upstairs.

In his room, he tossed his bag onto his gaming chair and stripped off his uniform shirt, revealing the toned, lean muscle that came from years of night patrols and training. With a relaxed breath, he began to float, rising off the floor with ease.

‘Yep. I’ll never get tired of this feeling,’ he thought with a smirk as the familiar hum of power coursed through his body.

『10%』

He let himself hover for a few seconds more before dropping onto the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath him.

Hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling.

Just a few more hours.

Then the real fun begins.


TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter 7

When night came. Travis heard the loud sound of a scream. Followed by shouts of a man about to jump.

' Man, another attempt i guess' he thought as he rose from his bed and opened his closet.

He looked at the black superman suit than looked at his hoodie.

' Why not have my Debut today.' He thought to himself with a smirk, but quickly brushed the idea off as he knew it was too early. He hasn't even applied for UA. So he decided to just wear his block outfit.

He opened up the door to his balcony and with a leap, Izuku took off to the skies fast.

.....

In the heart of Mustafa, a sprawling metropolis where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows over neon-lit streets, the city lights shone brightly like stars brought down to earth. The air pulsed with the rhythm of city life—honking cars, muffled chatter, the occasional bark of street vendors pushing for one last sale. Some people were just getting off work, shoulders slumped from exhaustion, while others embraced the night—laughing, drinking, dancing beneath the artificial glow.

But high above the noise and color, perched on the narrow edge of a tall commercial building, stood a man silhouetted against the night sky. His knees trembled slightly, shoes half-dangling over the concrete lip, as wind tousled his messy black hair. His wide, bloodshot eyes scanned the world below—people the size of ants, cars no more than glowing specks moving like fireflies.

'I can't do it, I can't do it,' he thought frantically, heart pounding as if trying to escape his chest.

His breathing came in quick, shallow gasps. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, the skin around his knuckles pale from pressure.

Down below, a few people walking by happened to glance up—and froze. Gasps spread, some pointing. A woman screamed. Phones were whipped out, some to record, others to dial emergency services.

Within minutes, sirens blared through the night. Police cars screeched to a halt near the building, lights flashing violently red and blue, cutting across the street like warning beacons. The fire department soon followed, their ladder truck positioning itself in vain.

A policeman stepped forward, lifting a megaphone. His voice cracked through the device with authority but held a note of calm.

"Please calm down! Step away from the ledge! You're not alone!"

But the voice was drowned beneath the man's thoughts. A memory—vivid and venomous—surged back with the force of a tidal wave. The image of his girlfriend, naked in bed with another man, laughing like he never existed. The way she had once clung to him, promised forever, now reduced to a lie that cut deeper than any blade.

His chest tightened. His vision blurred—not from the wind, but from the flood of tears that refused to stop. He had no family, no friends. Only her. She was his anchor, his only light, his reason. And now she was gone.

'She was my everything…' he thought bitterly. 'And I was nothing to her.'

His face twisted—not just in sorrow but in fury. His lips trembled, then parted in a broken scream toward the heavens.

"Fuck it!" he spat, voice hoarse. "She wouldn't even care if I died—that bitch!"

The crowd below murmured in horror. Some shouted, begging him to step back. But he didn’t hear them. He was staring at the city lights, the ones that once looked magical when he walked with her hand in hand. Now they were just cold. Distant. Unreachable.

The wind blew one final time.

He smiled, not in peace, but in surrender—tears still gliding down his cheeks, catching glints of neon light as they fell.

And then—he let go.

But just as the man plummeted through the open air, a sudden black flash streaked across the night like lightning cutting through the darkness. The crowd below barely registered what had happened—only a blur tearing through the sky at impossible speed.

In the blink of an eye, the falling man was snatched mid-air, his body suddenly spinning as if caught in a cyclone. A strong arm wrapped around his chest. The pressure was firm, secure.

His descent slowed sharply as wind howled past his ears. Then—thud—his feet landed hard against the cold, rough asphalt, legs buckling slightly under the shock of survival.

‘What… just happened?’ he thought, heart still hammering in his chest, lungs struggling to catch up with reality. He fell to his knees, staring at his trembling hands.

Then he looked up.

Behind him, standing tall under the soft glow of the streetlights, was a figure clad in a dark black outfit and his sharp eyes—kind, but unwavering—locked onto the man’s.

“Don’t kill yourself,” the hero said plainly, his voice youthful but steady. “There’s more to life… or something.” His tone was awkward but genuine.

The man stared, breathing heavily. “Who… who are you?”

Hearing that, the figure chuckled softly, then gave a relaxed, lopsided smile.

“You’ll find out soon,” he replied.

And with that, the mysterious savior’s feet began to lift off the ground. A low rumble built in the air as pressure swirled around him, then—boom—he launched into the night sky, leaving behind a powerful gust of wind that swept across the crowd like a wave.

The onlookers gasped, some shielding their faces from the blast, others frozen in awe. Sirens still flashed, but all eyes were on the sky where the strange new hero had vanished—leaving only silence, wind… and hope.

Izuku sat perched on the edge of a tall building, legs dangling over the ledge as the soft breeze tugged at his cape. The city of Mustafa sprawled below him—lights twinkling, cars weaving through traffic, life buzzing in its usual rhythm.

He stared down with a calm expression, taking a deep breath as he scanned the city for danger. One save down tonight, and it felt good.

‘That was solid for my first save tonight. Kinda feel like Batman with the whole brooding-on-a-rooftop vibe…’ he thought, glancing at the reflection of his red-and-blue suit in the glass beside him. ‘Still… I think I wanna keep Superman’s colors. They feel… right. Plus, imagine me rocking full green—I'd look like a damn bean.’

He smirked to himself.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a call from Mom.

He sighed, stood up, and with a soft hum of energy, whoosh—he took off, disappearing into the night sky like a streak of wind. Within minutes, he was home. A quick outfit change later, he was back to plain old Izuku, now seated across the dinner table from his mother.

“So, you’ll go to U.A. next year?” Inko asked, placing a dish in front of him.

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” he replied between bites, shoveling in food like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“You know… we never went back to the hospital to re-register your Quirk,” she said, watching him closely. “I’m sure they’d lose their minds seeing how many powers you’ve developed.”

“Nah. I don’t really feel like it,” he shrugged. “I wanna keep things on the down-low. Super secret identity style. Unlike most heroes who can’t wait to slap their name on a billboard.”

“Well… okay,” she said, slightly hesitant but respecting his decision. She turned to the remote and switched on the TV.

“Breaking News!” the reporter’s voice cut through the room.

“Tonight, we’re live on the scene where the mysterious Hoodie Hero saved another life—this time, a young boy on the verge of suicide. Eyewitnesses say he swooped in moments before the jump. Many theorize the Hoodie Hero is just a boy, based on his voice and body size. The question remains—who is this masked savior? Will he join the Vigilantes or become a Pro Hero? This is Fubuki Takama, reporting live from Central Mustafa.”

Inko blinked, lowering her chopsticks slowly.

“Wow… a boy, huh? He’s so brave,” she said pointedly, then turned to Izuku, who was now eating even faster like he could dodge the conversation by speed-chewing. “I thought I told you to stop with the hero stuff until you’re old enough.”

“But Mom!” he protested, mouth half-full. “He was going to die if I hadn’t stepped in! No one else has super hearing like I do—at least not to the magnitude I have. I can hear a scream through a thunderstorm from ten blocks away!”

Inko sighed, clearly torn between admiration and worry. “I understand, baby. But you’re still a teenager. What if you run into someone dangerous—like a Hero Killer? Oh god, don’t even make me think about what would happen…”

“Mom,” Izuku said, setting his chopsticks down and meeting her gaze. “I’ll be fine. I’m not like everyone else.”

He stood up slowly, cape flicking behind him ever so slightly as he raised his chin with a grin.

“I’m the Man of S—”

“MAN OF STEEL!”

The TV announcer suddenly shouted the title of an old superhero documentary, interrupting his dramatic declaration. Both of them paused.

Then Inko burst out laughing.

Izuku groaned and sat back down, hiding his face behind a bowl.

TO BE CONTINUED

[ A/n: this is an invincible reference BTW]

Chapter 8

Izuku went upstairs, yawning as he loosened the collar of his shirt. His body ached slightly—not from exhaustion, but from habit. After every patrol or class, a hot bath was practically a ritual now.

He stepped into the bathroom, turned on the water, and waited for the steam to build before sliding into the warm bathtub, sinking in until only his head remained above water. The heat soaked into his muscles, and he let out a long, relaxed sigh.

‘Besides Uraraka… I haven’t met a single other girl from Class A yet,’ he thought, staring at the ceiling. ‘But even worse… I haven’t had the chance to watch any of my favorite female heroes live.’

A pause.

‘Not that it matters. I’ve already… “gone through” all their content. He closed his eyes, a mixture of shame and resignation washing over him. ‘R34 is going to be the death of me.’

He rubbed the back of his neck, sinking deeper into the water like he could drown the thought.

After about twenty minutes, he finally stepped out, drying himself off with a soft towel before heading back to his room. He was halfway to collapsing onto his bed when his ears perked up.

A scream.

Faint—but real.

High-pitched. Feminine. Muffled. His hearing zoned in immediately.

Back of a van…
He paused. Kidnapping, huh?

His expression hardened.

‘I better get ready.’

In a flash, he opened his closet and slipped into his usual black stealth outfit—lightweight, flexible, perfect for quick movement in the shadows. Hoodie zipped, mask in place, he slipped out onto the balcony.

Whoosh!

With a burst of wind, he shot into the sky like a black comet, vanishing into the night.

Moments later, Inko walked down the hallway in her slippers, gently knocking on his bedroom door.

“Izuku, let’s talk about your hero thing…” she said softly, a mix of concern and exhaustion in her voice. She waited a few seconds… but there was no response.

Sighing, she slowly opened the door.

The breeze greeted her first—the kind only a wide-open balcony could bring. The curtains swayed, and the cold night air kissed her face.

She stepped in, seeing the bed untouched, the room empty.

Her shoulders dropped.

“…Again?” she murmured, frowning as she walked over and quietly shut the balcony door. “You’re going to give me gray hairs, I swear.”

With a final sigh, she turned off the light and went to bed—trying not to imagine what kind of danger her son was diving into this time.


Izuku soared through the cold night sky, cutting through the clouds like a bullet as his sharp eyes locked onto a speeding van barreling down a highway. The city lights blurred beneath him, cars honking in confusion as the vehicle swerved between lanes recklessly.

‘Wow, they made it all the way to the highway… Where the hell are the police when you need them?’ he wondered with a frown, adjusting his trajectory downward.

He dropped like a missile, landing on the roof of the van with a loud metallic thud. The impact shook the whole vehicle, but he kept his footing. Without hesitation, he blew out a chilling breath, freezing the roof solid, making the metal brittle and easy to crack. With a swift punch, he shattered the frozen metal, creating a gaping hole, and slipped inside.

The interior was cramped and dark, the only light coming from flickering dashboard lamps. In the back, a little girl huddled in the corner, trembling in fear, eyes wide as she clutched her knees.

“Hey,” Izuku said gently, crouching down and offering his hand. “I’m here to save you, alright? Let’s get you out of here.”

But before he could move closer—

“WATCH OUT!” the girl screamed, eyes behind him.

His eyes widened—What?—and before he could react, a fist like a boulder slammed into his side, sending him flying through the now-open van door. His body skidded across the highway, bouncing off the asphalt with painful force.

“Fucken hell…” Izuku grunted as he rolled to a stop, bits of gravel clinging to his hoodie. He groaned, pushing himself up. ‘How was he that silent? I didn’t even hear his heart… X-Ray vision would’ve been real nice right about now.’

Without wasting another second, he shot back into the air and blasted forward, catching up to the van in less than a second. In a streak of black and blue, he crashed back inside.

This time, he got a good look at the man.

The villain was massive, his arms like tree trunks, fists like bricks, and skin rough like concrete. Veins bulged along his shoulders as he held the girl close, using her as a human shield.

“The name’s Brick Hand,” the man snarled. “You better back off, or this little girl’s head becomes mush.”

Izuku didn’t flinch. He only shook his head slowly.

Then—boom.

In a blur of speed, Izuku appeared right in front of him, seizing the villain by the throat and lifting him clean off the floor. The girl screamed as Brick Hand lost grip of her, floating in the air as the van continued racing forward below them.

“Where are you taking the girl?” Izuku asked, voice low and serious.

Brick Hand laughed, then spat in Izuku’s face. “Like I’d tell ya!”

Izuku narrowed his eyes, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Then he smirked. “Well, I guess you’ve grown tired of living.”

And with that, he hurled the man skyward, sending him screaming into the clouds like a launched rocket.

“FUUUUUCK!!”

Izuku zipped back down, caught the now-crying girl, and placed her gently on the side of the road just as the van finally lost control and crashed into a barrier, smoke rising from the engine. He made sure the girl was safe and turned back to the sky.

He shot upward and caught Brick Hand mid-descent like it was nothing, gripping him by the collar as they hovered in place.

“You ready to talk now?” Izuku asked, voice cold.

“THEY’RE TAKING THE KIDS TO THE HARBOR!” Brick Hand screamed, tears in his eyes. “Some private island—human trafficking or something! That’s all I know, I swear! I’m just the bouncer, man!”

Izuku stared for a second, then nodded.

“Good.”

Within minutes, police sirens wailed in the distance. Red and blue lights flooded the highway. Izuku descended slowly, landing near the wrecked van where officers were already on scene. And standing among them…

Eraser Head.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed the moment he saw Izuku. His hair floated up as he activated his Quirk, gaze locked.

But Izuku didn’t stop. He walked straight past him, dragging Brick Hand by the collar like trash, and handed him to the nearest officer.

Then, deepening his voice, Izuku spoke with weight.

“These guys are traffickers. They’re headed to the harbor. You’d better hurry if you want to catch the others. I’ll meet you there.”

And with a burst of wind, he took off into the sky again, cape fluttering behind him like a shadow in the night.

Aizawa stood frozen.

‘…I erased it. I know I did. So how the hell is he still flying?’

His eyes followed the mysterious hero as he disappeared over the skyline.


TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter 9
Izuku arrived at the scene just as the rusted creak of metal echoed from the docks. His eyes narrowed. Children—little girls and boys—were screaming from inside a massive shipping container, chained and huddled together, their tiny fists banging on the steel walls in panic. The container was strapped onto a tanker, ready to be loaded onto a looming cargo ship.

'Pedophiles,' he thought darkly. 'The worst kind of scum to ever walk this earth. Even worse than the Nazis.'

His boots hit the concrete with a sharp thud as he landed in front of the ship, sending a gust of wind that rippled across the dark sea.

Men emerged from all directions, surrounding him with rifles and machine guns pointed right at his chest. They wore ski masks and bulletproof vests, barking orders he didn’t even bother listening to.

Izuku simply raised his hands slowly, as if to surrender.

One of them stepped forward, smirking beneath his mask as he aimed his gun directly at Izuku’s face. "Move and you're dead, freak."

Izuku tilted his head. Then, in a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed the man's face, slamming it into the ground so hard the pavement cracked.

Crack!

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Gunfire erupted instantly, raining bullets in all directions. The rounds bounced off Izuku’s skin like pebbles hitting steel. His black outfit, however, was another story—it began tearing from the impact.

'Tch… this suit’s gonna be dust if I don’t wrap this up,' he thought, irritated.

With that, he vanished in a blur. He reappeared beside one of the gunmen and delivered a roundhouse kick that launched the man straight into the side of the ship.

Bang!

Before any of them could react, Izuku was already behind the next group. He moved like a ghost—untraceable, unstoppable. One by one, they fell, beaten unconscious before they could even scream.

In less than thirty seconds, it was over.

The port echoed with silence, broken only by the distant cry of approaching sirens. Izuku turned toward the massive container, lifting it effortlessly with both arms before gently placing it down in an open space.

He walked to the hatch and yanked it open. What greeted him was a heart-shattering sight—dozens of children crouched together, faces streaked with tears, their bodies trembling with terror. Some didn’t even look up.

The pain in his chest twisted into rage.

“You’re all safe now,” he said softly, his voice deep and calm.

He turned around and walked away.

The ship still had one rat hiding in its belly. Izuku honed in on the heartbeat with ease and strode below deck. He found the captain—a bloated, sweating man—curled up under a table, trying to stay still.

Izuku reached down and yanked him up by the collar.

“Where were you taking these kids?” he asked, voice eerily calm.

“P-please! I was just following orders!” the man stuttered, eyes wide. “They told me to bring them to some island—some billionaire’s private place! That’s all I know! No names, no nothing, I swear!”

“Show me where.”

By the time the police arrived at the docks, Izuku was already in the air with the captain gripped tightly in one arm. They headed over the sea—past the coastlines—until they reached a secluded island far off near the Bahamas.

Izuku landed hard, a crater forming beneath his boots as he dropped the captain onto the sand.

There was a towering mansion just ahead, lights flickering from the windows, and the muffled sounds of laughter… moaning… music. He could hear everything.

‘Sounds like a damn Epstein party,’ he thought coldly.

He didn’t knock.

Izuku stormed into the mansion and shattered their little fantasy world. Cameras were already floating around him, recording everything. He exposed them—every face, every act, every disgusting detail. No more hiding behind lawyers or money. He streamed it live. Twitter, YouTube, news outlets. The whole world saw.

When the British authorities arrived, they found the mansion in ruins, the guests zip-tied and terrified, evidence plastered all over social media. There was no escaping this.

The world thanked him.

The media called him a savior. A child-trafficking ring made up of some of the world’s richest and most powerful men had just been brought down in a single night.

They tried to offer him a prize, a medal, and even a global honor ceremony.

Izuku refused.

He gave them no statement, no interview. He simply flew off into the night, heading home to Japan.

The next morning, the world woke up to breaking news unlike anything they’d seen before. Screens across Japan—and soon the globe—were flooded with footage taken from the live stream Izuku had unleashed at the billionaire’s island mansion.

.....

News anchors, reporters, and social media influencers couldn’t stop talking.


News Anchor (live broadcast):
“Good morning, everyone. What started as a tip-off about a missing children’s trafficking ring has exploded into one of the largest criminal busts in recent history. The so-called ‘Hoodie Hero’—a mysterious vigilante who has remained anonymous since his first appearance—stormed a private island last night, exposing some of the world’s most powerful elites involved in the vile trade.”

Reporter (on-site):
“We’re here at the Ministry of Justice, where officials are scrambling to respond. The operation’s success has been hailed worldwide, but questions remain about the vigilante’s identity, his methods, and whether the Hero Commission will acknowledge his role.”

Across social media, hashtags like #HoodieHero, #ChildRescue, and #JusticeServed trended globally, sparking widespread praise and debate. People shared clips from the raid, expressing gratitude and awe.

Fans created fan art and memes, some joking about the Hoodie Hero’s dark costume and lightning-fast moves, others speculating about his true identity.

But not everyone was supportive.

Editorial Column, The Daily Sentinel:
"Vigilantism is a dangerous path. While the Hoodie Hero’s actions saved lives, they also bypassed the law and risked innocent lives. Who is this boy playing judge, jury, and executioner? Japan’s heroes are licensed, trained, and accountable. This masked teenager—however well-intentioned—must be stopped before tragedy strikes."

Inside the Hero Commission headquarters, officials exchanged grim looks. The commission’s PR team scrambled to draft a statement acknowledging the rescue without endorsing the vigilante’s methods.

Meanwhile, some pro heroes watched the news with mixed feelings—relief for the rescue, but frustration at the media spotlight stealing their thunder.


Back home, Inko watched the coverage quietly in the living room. She glanced at her phone, her worry deepening with every new headline and viral clip.

“I'm happy he saved those kids, but i still can't help but worry for my boy” she murmured.

[A/N: Now don't go hating on a mother for wanting her son to be safe. Kinda like how brain dead DB fans hate Chichi for not wanting Gohan and Goten to fight. Who in their right mind would let a child fight Ailens. ]


Elsewhere, Izuku lay on his bed, scrolling through news clips and tweets on his phone. A faint smile played across his lips as he saw the outpouring of support and the fiery debates alike.

‘They don’t know it’s me... and it has to stay that way.’

He locked his phone, reached for his black hoodie, and slipped it on.

‘ I wonder how I'll do when I get to UA. Well I'm not scared, next month I take the test. Can't wait ' he thought.

Outside his window, the city buzzed on, unaware that their silent guardian watched over them—ready for whatever came next.

TO BE CONTINUED



Chapter 10

[1 Month Later]

The sun was high and the air buzzing with nervous energy as Izuku stood among the other hopefuls outside the U.A. entrance exam site. The exam itself had been a breeze—so easy, in fact, that Izuku finished well ahead of the crowd, leaving behind puzzled stares and whispered rumors.

Stepping out, he felt the familiar rush of accomplishment and relief wash over him. The test was just another stepping stone, and he was ready for what came next.

Behind him, a familiar presence emerged—Katsuki, glaring fiercely, jaw clenched tight.

'Look at him… thinking he's better than me. If I get into U.A., I'll prove I'm the top of the class, no contest,' Katsuki seethed silently, eyes locked on Izuku's calm silhouette.

Izuku let out a soft sigh and began walking home, the quiet streets welcoming him back.

'I never met All Might personally,' he thought as the familiar cityscape passed by, 'but I'm curious about the one who got All For One… Whoever they are, I hope they find their own path—maybe even peace.'

Later, in the comfort of his room, Izuku sank into his gaming chair, fingers flying across the controller. The familiar sounds of digital battles filled the air, his focus sharp.

Suddenly, the door burst open with an enthusiastic bang.

"Izuku! I finally beat Ribbit Power!" Inko exclaimed, her face alight with joy as she danced around the room.

"Nice," Izuku replied without looking up, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

Inko's smile faded slightly as she remembered something important.

"Oh, by the way, Kacchan's mom is coming to visit," she said, crossing her arms thoughtfully.

Izuku paused his game, turning with a smirk. "Oh? Is her brat son coming too?"

"Of course. I thought you guys were friends?" Inko teased, raising an eyebrow.

"We are," he said with a confident grin, eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Right," she said with a knowing smile before heading toward the door. "Well, I need to get bathed."

As the door closed behind her, Izuku's grin widened.

'A classic milf. Can't wait to see her,' he thought, chuckling quietly as he resumed thrashing the game enemies.

An hour later, the doorbell rang. Inko dried her hands on a kitchen towel and made her way to the door, her expression lighting up as she saw who it was.

"Mitsuki! It's been a while, girl!" Inko beamed, pulling her old friend into a warm hug.

"Yeah, it really has. And wow, you look stunning! Is there a new Mr. in your life?" Mitsuki teased with a smirk, her tone playful and familiar.

"Of course not. Well—besides my handsome Izuku, of course," Inko replied with a chuckle, brushing a stray hair behind her ear as she stepped aside to let them in.

"Well, I'm excited to see him. It's been a few years since I laid eyes on that boy." Mitsuki stepped in, her eyes scanning the clean, warmly decorated home. "Katsuki, greet her," she added sharply, elbowing her son.

The spiky-haired teen rolled his eyes but obeyed. "Hello, ma'am," he muttered.

"Hi, Katsuki. Izuku's upstairs in his room, okay?" Inko said, her tone polite but distant. She motioned for the two to enter as she and Mitsuki walked further into the house, their footsteps echoing faintly against the wooden floor.

Katsuki glanced around the home with thinly veiled irritation. Marble countertops, polished floors, subtle hints of wealth in every corner. A far cry from the tiny, cramped apartment Izuku used to live in.

'With this kind of money he could've easily gone to Horisuma. Guess he wanted to flaunt it instead. I hate him even more now,' he thought bitterly as he climbed the stairs.

Upstairs, he entered Izuku's room—and immediately paused.

Gaming rig glowing with RGB lights, a wall-mounted TV playing lo-fi beats in the background, a mini-fridge in the corner, and shelves filled with books, figurines, and expensive tech. The room was every teenage boy's dream.

Izuku was reclined in a gaming chair, controller in hand, eyes on the screen. He glanced back when he heard the door.

"Sup," he said casually.

"Nun. What you playing?" Katsuki replied, his voice low.

"COD. Wanna play?"

"Sure," he shrugged, sitting next to him. The two boys silently began to game, the tension between them unspoken but heavy.

'Guess he's cool about all that bullying I did to him. That's surprising,' Katsuki thought, shooting glances at Izuku's relaxed face.

"Where's your mom?" Izuku asked, still focused on the game.

"Oh, she's downstairs," Katsuki replied.

"I should go say hi. Wait here," Izuku said as he slipped on his house slippers and walked out the room.

Left alone, Katsuki leaned back, letting his eyes wander again. He noticed the phone on Izuku's desk—latest model, of course—then frowned.

'Probably thinks he's above me now. Just 'cause he's rich and handsome. I'll show you, Deku…'

Meanwhile, Izuku made his way downstairs, the smell of vanilla and fresh polish lingering in the air. In the living room, Mitsuki and Inko were seated comfortably on the couch, sipping wine and laughing over some old memory.

He stepped into view.

Mitsuki's laughter stopped mid-sentence as she looked up. Her eyes widened.

'Wow…'

"Well if it isn't Izuku," she said, standing up. "Wow, you've grown. What is your mother feeding you?"

Izuku grinned, walking over as she pulled him into a hug. "I don't know… love maybe?" he replied with a cheeky smile.

Both women burst into laughter.

"You're still slick with your words, I see," Mitsuki said, pinching his cheek lightly. "Don't go breaking any of those young girls' hearts at U.A., you hear me?"

"Why would I? I respect women of all types and ages—especially the older, wiser ones," he said smoothly, lifting her hand and kissing it.

Mitsuki blinked, surprised, before smirking. "Consider me charmed."

"Well, I should get back upstairs. I hope you enjoy your time here," he said as he turned and left, the faint scent of his cologne trailing behind him.

Mitsuki watched him go, then slapped Inko's thigh.

"What did you teach that boy?" she asked, half-joking, half-incredulous.

"Nothing!" Inko laughed. "He's just always been like that. Good with words. Of course, he doesn't flatter me like that since I'm his mom—but every time we go out, all the women we pass give him that look."

"Oh, that look. Wow…" Mitsuki sighed, taking a sip of her wine. "If he weren't underage, I'd give him a chance."

"You're married, dear. Don't forget that," Inko warned with a playful glare.

"Oh yeah… almost forgot," Mitsuki giggled, clinking her glass with Inko's as they leaned back into the couch.

TO BE CONTINUED

[A/N: POOR Masaru]