Chapter Text
Video description:
A young man wearing a hood and a tragedy mask sits in front of the camera. From his costume he is easily identifiable as Analyst. Analyst clears his throat and begins to speak in a voice distorted by his voice changer.
“So. I’m sure you all know what’s happened. You're wondering what comes next. The news will be breaking as this video is released, you’ll have your answers. But first, I felt I had to do this properly. Say hello before I say goodbye.”
Analyst reaches up and pulls down his hood, revealing a head of green curls. He removes his mask. There’s a sad smile on his freckled face.
“Hello. My name is Izuku Midoriya.”
— — —
“Happy birthday dear Izuku~ Happy birthday to you!”
Izuku laughed as his mom finished singing. It was always a bit embarrassing to sit through, but in a nice sort of way.
“Now blow out your candles dear,” she prompted.
Izuku leaned forward and thought about what to wish for. He’d used plenty of good ones over the years. They hadn’t quite worked out, but that just meant he had to come up with something better. More attainable.
I wish Kacchan would stop being mean to me.
I wish I had a quirk.
I wish for things to get better.
Those had been the main ones. None of them had come true. Izuku had only been in middle school for a semester, but things most certainly hadn’t gotten better. He could argue that they had gotten worse, but he was an optimist so he didn’t.
Kacchan and the others were stronger now, their quirks grew with them. But Izuku was stronger too! Experience made him so. The teachers at Aldera almost seemed to encourage the others to pick on Izuku, but at least they weren’t giving everyone more reasons to make fun of him by pretending to care. There were new people to meet, though they’d all flocked to Kacchan pretty much immediately, and that meant they then turned on him.
But that meant they didn’t know him, if Izuku could just get through to them he was sure things could change. If he could just talk to someone, maybe they could be friends. They could talk about heroes, Izuku loved heroes. He had tons of notebooks on the subject, but Kacchan wasn’t a fan of those so he didn’t let others see them anymore. But maybe the kids at Aldera would think they were interesting, and want to talk to him about quirks!
Izuku had to be brave to be a hero. He had to be brave to try and make friends, despite how things were looking so far. For now, he could use a little extra luck.
I wish for people to give me a chance.
There. That wasn’t too far stretched.
Izuku blew out his candles and promised that when he went back to school he’d try. He’d be brave, now that Aldera was no longer scary in its newness. He’d put himself out there, so his mom didn’t have to spend his birthday pretending not to be sad that she was the only one there.
Inko cheered as the smoke from the candles drifted away. She grabbed a knife and started to cut a slice.
“Now why don’t we watch an All Might movie while we eat, hm? Or does turning thirteen mean you’re too old for that kind of stuff now?”
Izuku gasped in fake shock. “Mom! Nobody is too old for All Might!”
Inko chuckled and handed him his plate. “Well that’s a relief. I don’t know what I would do with the new special edition DVD I bought if you-”
She was cut off as Izuku nearly dropped his cake with a shriek. “WHAT!? New? Special edition?” He bounced in place, excitement dancing in his eyes. “You really got it?”
Inko beamed at her son’s enthusiasm. “I sure did! I think it has some sort of interview the others don’t.”
Izuku rushed to put his plate down so he could run back and hug his mom. He held onto her tightly and let a stream of thanks fall from his mouth. Yeah, he thought it would be nice to have an actual birthday party someday, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love the way they celebrated now.
“You’re the best mom ever!” he announced as Inko set the movie up.
“You’re too sweet, Izuku.”
Pressed against his mother’s side, Izuku thought that maybe things were looking up. Maybe thirteen would be his year.
The movie was one he’d already seen of course, not that he was any less happy to watch it again. But it was the extra interview at the end he was really excited for. New All Might content! Izuku had searched for it online after hearing about it, but hadn’t been able to find anything. His hands itched to write in his All Might notebook, but it was more important to be in the moment with his mom.
As soon as they parted ways though, Izuku made a beeline for the notebook. All Might hadn’t said much that was new, but there’d been a comment on one of his fights that Izuku could add. As he wrote, his mind circled back to sharing his thoughts with his classmates. He still wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea, but he was going to try.
Then a better idea came to him. What if he tested the waters first? Izuku pushed his notebook aside and turned to his computer instead. He was active on plenty of hero forums and people seemed to like talking with him there. He’d never shared his analyses before though, always keeping those private in the safety of his notebooks. But if he posted something online, he’d be able to see what people thought before trying it in person! Then he’d have a better idea of what to expect.
First thing’s first, he had to make a new account. Izuku’s real account was for talking about heroes and being on quirkless forums, if his analysis happened to get attention he didn’t want it to affect what he already had going. And… if he wanted to really see if people didn’t like him or it was just his quirklessness, he probably shouldn’t have his account share that information.
Was he probably being paranoid? Yes, he knew that. Realistically, whatever he posted would be seen by just a handful of people. But Izuku wasn’t sure if anybody at school knew about his current account, and if they saw what he posted that would ruin the whole experiment. Izuku liked to cover his bases, so the account ‘TestingTesting.123’ was born. It was just a throwaway name he didn’t have to think about, and it was accurate. This was his test run.
In more ways than he could imagine.
The next step was to figure out what to actually post. His mind was occupied by All Might currently, but that was too basic. Izuku grabbed his most recent notebook and flipped through it, looking for inspiration.
Mirko? No, he didn’t have enough about her yet. Best Jeanist still felt a bit too obvious. Izuku finally landed on Disjointed, a hero who wasn’t that popular but was still well known. Izuku grinned, and skimmed over his entry.
The Pro Hero Disjointed has been active for four years, only becoming widely recognized recently, having made the official hero rankings at 216. His quirk, Whirling Joints, allows him to quickly rotate his body clockwise at each joint. The speed his body can get up to makes his attacks dangerous and difficult to avoid, causing him to primarily be an offensive fighter rather than a hero focused on rescue.
Strengths:
- Disjointed’s quirk allows him to fight in totally unique ways, catching villains off guard. He moves quickly and effectively, and they don’t know how to fight back.
- The speed of his arm often acts as a shield; he is able to keep villains at a distance and unable to land a hit on him while he uses his other arm to attack.
Weaknesses:
- He is only able to use his quirk at high speeds.
-
- Evidence: He never looks behind him by slowly spinning his head. When fighting the villain Pine, Disjointed’s leg was trapped in a way that could have easily been avoided if he had rotated it just slightly out of ordinary ability.
- The cold seems to strain him, and it is likely that extreme cold could risk snapping his body when the spinning occurs.
-
- Evidence: When the hero Frost took over the hostage situation his movements got slower before he retreated all together.
- He needs space for his body to move, and may be unable to activate his quirk in small enclosed places.
It had been a few months since Izuku had written the entry, so he should definitely go over it and make some more additions. When he typed it up he’d make it more professional sounding too. But overall, Izuku thought it was good enough to be his tester. It wasn’t like he was really trying to impress people, he just wanted to make sure it wasn’t so awful people would laugh at him.
Izuku turned back to his computer and started a new draft of Disjointed’s analysis. He smiled as he worked. Afterall, this was his main hobby. He was doing what he loved.
What could be better than that?
— — —
It was only after school the next day that Izuku remembered his post. With an equal mix of excitement and nervousness, he sat down at his computer to check. He tried to tell himself that it had been too little time for anyone to have seen it, but he never had been able to keep his emotions in check.
As expected, there were only a few comments, though it was still quite a bit in Izuku’s opinion. They seemed to be mainly positive, and a warm feeling started to spread throughout Izuku’s chest.
School had been as unpleasant as always, but this drowned that out. For today, Izuku could achieve something. He could have hope.
But reality always comes crashing back down.
It was the end of the semester, everyone was talking about their plans. They made sure Izuku knew what fun they were all getting up to without him, making a point to ask him what he was doing in a way he knew wasn’t genuine.
He gave them the benefit of the doubt regardless. “Oh I’m- I’m gonna be home, but I-I g-got a new game to play. I-it’s multiplayer s-so-”
Laughter. “You think anyone is going to play with you?”
That’s right. Who would spend their break with the useless quirkless loser?
That’s who Izuku was. That’s what he amounted to. Izuku trudged home alone and knew that whatever people online thought of him, it was too late. Nobody in real life would give him a chance.
He didn’t check on his post again. Instead, he wrote, because that was all he could do. Alone in his house with his mom at work and his dad not present and his lack of any friends, Izuku researched and drew and wrote because the one thing he did have was his mind.
After eight years, Izuku had more than enough practice at keeping the loneliness at bay.
— — —
The monotony of days alone was broken little more than a week into the break. Izuku was reading on the couch with the news on in the background, in case any interesting fights started to play that he could write about.
‘Breaking news’ was all he needed to hear to drop his book and start paying attention. It didn’t seem to be a broadcast of a fight, rather a report. Not as interesting, but Izuku would still watch. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Paying attention turned out to be the right call, as the newscaster’s next words were the ones that changed the course of Izuku’s life.
“The Pro Hero Disjointed was murdered in a calculated villain attack earlier this morning. His fate has just been released to the public, we will be going over the details of the attack.”
Izuku stilled on the couch. For any hero to be murdered was an awful thing, but Disjointed? It seemed like just yesterday Izuku was writing about him.
“The Hero responded to an attack on a restaurant along his patrol route, where he was lured into a small walk-in freezer.”
Freezer? That was bad, Izuku’s hypothesis about the cold hurting him must have been correct.
“The villain appeared to be able to flatten his body so he was unaffected by the tight space.”
Tight space? That was another one of Izuku’s noted weaknesses. It was kind of interesting, in a morbid sort of way, to hear that he was right, but at the same time it felt odd. Izuku had had those theories written down for a long time, it shouldn’t be shocking to hear. It was probably just because it was all so fresh after making that post-
Izuku’s breath caught in his throat, and whatever the reporter was saying faded into incomprehensible chatter. Izuku had posted Disjointed’s weaknesses, and in weeks those very weaknesses were used to kill him. That was a fact, but it was just a coincidence, right? There was no way what Izuku feared was true, he was being overdramatic and self centered. Nobody had even seen his post.
But the reporter had said it was a targeted attack. It was planned. Izuku had noted Disjointed’s strength in catching villains off guard. Was it really so likely that a villain had decided on attacking a lesser known hero like Disjointed of all people, using the specific weaknesses Izuku had listed, just after he had made them public, all independently?
Izuku didn’t like that his mind was telling him no, no it was not likely.
The world felt strange. Izuku knew fear and pain and panic. This wasn’t like that. This was something else. Izuku got up and made the walk to his room on autopilot, hardly registering his movements. He sat down at his desk and opened his computer, pulling up his post with trembling fingers.
The last time he’d checked the number of people who had seen it was in the double digits. Now Izuku could barely count them all before his eyes started swimming, panic finally setting in.
Now it was highly probable that the villain had seen the post. The less likely turn of events would be if he hadn’t. And that- that meant-
Izuku gasped as his breathing started to speed up, heart pounding wildly. That meant Izuku was responsible for giving the villain the information necessary to kill Disjointed. That meant Izuku was responsible.
A hero was dead because of him.
Not knowing if he wanted to or not, Izuku scrolled to the comments. There were so many of them. One thing they all had in common though, was expressing that they hadn’t known or thought about what Izuku had written before reading his post.
He had told them.
Most of them were positive, or curious, but as Izuku kept scrolling more and more started to appear threatening or ominous. Had the villain written a comment? Was Izuku reading what a murderer had left him?
He closed his computer harder than he should and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. There was no proof. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Everything was fine.
Izuku spent the rest of the day in a haze, not daring to even touch any piece of technology that may interfere with his attempt at escape. When his mom came home she could tell something was up, but Izuku just said he was tired. It was a bad lie, but she didn’t push.
Izuku didn’t know what he would have done if she had.
That night, it took a long time for Izuku to fall asleep. When sleep did come it was a welcome distraction from the guilt sitting in his chest, but as soon as he awoke its weight was back.
Izuku couldn’t stop himself from looking at the post again. His computer was still sitting on his desk where he’d left it, and it called to him like a siren. His hands shook as he turned it on.
The number of comments had grown, and as he read Izuku’s fears were confirmed. He wasn’t the only one who had drawn the connection between the murder and his post. They knew he was to blame.
But… not all of them did blame him. In fact, people were defending him. Izuku latched onto those comments and read them with wide eyes, like hearing it from somebody else would make it true.
He hadn’t asked for what had happened. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Izuku read and reread the comments until they were memorized, and this time when he closed the computer he could breathe.
“You look better today,” Inko noted when she came home.
Izuku smiled, and it wasn’t strained. “I guess I just needed a good sleep!” A good sleep was the exact opposite of what he’d gotten, but things worked out anyways. He hurried to help his mom in the kitchen, and listened to her talk about her day with interest. He was able to stomach a second bowl of rice when they ate. Things were normal.
But the next day he pulled up the comments again.
He couldn't stop reading them. The discussions kept growing and the post was getting more and more popular. They all saw Izuku’s work. They thought Izuku’s work was smart. They thought Izuku was skilled.
Izuku watched as the topic turned from whether or not the villain had used his post (which everyone knew he had) to whether or not it was his fault, to surprisingly, a debate over whether or not it was a good thing.
When Izuku saw the first comment saying Disjointed deserved what happened, he thought it was just some idiot. But soon, almost everybody was agreeing. It was the hero’s fault for having such obvious weaknesses. They were learned just from watching fights, anybody could see them. He should have taken that into account and been better prepared. A hero that low in the rankings should have been aware of something like the post growing popular with his name. He should have learned from the analysis, not ignored it. He could have improved if he had listened, and his death just shows how he didn’t deserve that kind of help.
Real heroes would learn from their mistakes and do better. The analyses would help a real hero.
They wanted more.
Izuku watched as the debate came to a conclusion and the comment section turned to one final topic. He watched as hundreds of people clamoured for another post, another hero. He watched as people asked for him.
Izuku had never felt so conflicted in his life.
Not knowing what to do, Izuku tried to push the entire thing to the back of his mind. He started cleaning the house and asking his mom if there was anything he could do, anything to keep him busy. If he just filled his days, he could stay away from his computer. He could resist.
It worked, for a time. The house had never been so clean, and the next order of business was filling the kitchen. Izuku wrote out a grocery list and was grateful for a reason to get out of the house. He’d hardly been outside since the break had started.
To keep his mind from wandering, he tried to pay as much attention as possible to his surroundings as he made his way to the store. There was a slight breeze, and it whistled when he passed through two buildings. There were cracks in the sidewalk. A bird’s call grew fainter and then louder again, as if it circled back to where it started. A crash. Car horns. Screaming.
Izuku snapped his head up, looking for the source of the noise. Was it a villain? Izuku had brought his backpack to put the groceries in, and to keep the notebook he reached for now. He never went anywhere without it.
Quickly putting the bag back on, Izuku ran towards the possible danger zone. It had been a while since he’d been able to take notes on a fight in person. Normally he’d have gone out looking for them by now, but this break he’d taken to staying inside more often.
Of course, analyzing a fight made Izuku think of his post. But this was different, this was just for him. This was his hero analysis for the future. This is what he liked to do.
Izuku found a place to get a good view of what was happening and watched. His hand raced to keep up with the fight, his mouth letting out a never ending stream of mumbled commentary. He felt more alive than he had in weeks.
Even when the fight was over, Izuku kept writing as he turned back towards the store. Both the villain and the hero had such cool quirks! Izuku tried to sketch them as best he could before his memory faded. He could always look them up later, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Izuku had his head in his notebook and his mind in the fight, so he didn’t notice until it was too late where his feet were taking him.
“Well well well, look who it is,” a very familiar voice drawled.
Izuku snapped the book closed in an instant and held it by his side, stiffening up instinctively. “Kacchan!” He squeaked. “H-hi!”
Kacchan wasn’t alone, he had Tsubasa with him. The two of them looked at Izuku with equal amounts of disgust, but it was only the look in Kacchan’s eyes Izuku feared.
“What have you got there, nerd?” He asked, laughing at the end.
“Oh, um, nothing important!” Izuku decided to try and deflect. “How’s your break been going?”
Tsubasa steamrolled right over him. “Looks to me like one of those creepy notebooks.”
Kacchan grinned. “You know, it looks like that to me as well.”
Izuku gulped. He took a step back, but before he could decide if he should make a break for it, the two were on him. Tsubasa pushed him over while Kacchan grabbed the notebook, ripping it from Izuku’s hand. He tried to hold on but was too off balance from the push to make a good enough effort. Izuku took a shaky step towards them.
“Hey, give it back!” He protested weakly.
Kacchan flipped through the pages with a sneer and didn’t reply. Tsubasa leaned over and pointed to something, then tried to tug the book over to him. Kacchan was never one to give up control though, and the result was a couple pages tearing out in Tsubasa’s grip. There was a moment of silence, before Izuku’s responding cry made the two of them burst out laughing.
“Don’t worry Deku, you won't be needing those,” Kacchan closed the book as Tsubasa threw the pages on the ground, then rubbed them down under his shoe. “Nobody wants to read all your worthless nonsense.”
“Yeah,” Tsubasa chuckled. “What would you know about quirks?”
Izuku wanted to run at them, and wanted to snatch his notebook back before they did any more damage to it. But he knew how easily Kacchan could turn to violence, and with him being home all the time he didn’t want to have to come up with some explanation for his mom, who he wouldn’t be able to hide his injuries from. He stood helplessly.
“It’s better if you forget about this garbage and leave the thoughts of heroes to those of us that can actually be heroes,” Kacchan stated, the faint sound of popping starting to come from his palms. Izuku winced in anticipation of what was to come. “A worthless nobody like you has no hope, so just give up!”
A flash of light, the smell of burnt sugar, and Izuku’s notebook fell to the ground in a burnt mess. He stepped towards it without thinking, and Tsubasa quickly blocked his way.
“Leave it,” Kacchan ordered. “Who cares about that junk, let’s just go.”
Tsubasa looked Izuku in the eye, then kicked the book before walking off. Kacchan snorted and followed, calling over his shoulder, “Take your notebook back if you want, it’s as useful now as it was before! In fact, it’s just as useful as you are!”
He didn’t have to clarify that by that he meant ‘not at all.’
Izuku waited until they rounded a corner and were out of sight before kneeling at the wreckage of his hard work. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. If he did, they wouldn’t stop and he wouldn’t be able to do the shopping.
Izuku scooped the pages into his bag, resigned to salvaging what he could when he got home. Because his work wasn’t junk. There were thousands of people who agreed.
Izuku’s fists tightened around the straps of his backpack. There were thousands of people who wanted his analysis. There was proof that what he did wasn’t nonsense, that it had real effects. Who was Kacchan to judge what he did? Kacchan may be stronger, but he wasn’t the one people were begging for. He didn’t know everything, and Tsubara certainly didn’t either.
And it was thousands against two.
When Izuku got to the store his mind was made up. He grabbed what he needed automatically, his mind whirring with possibilities. Who to choose?
He should only do a hero who deserved to have their flaws pointed out. That way they’d be able to work on them. Izuku didn’t want another villain to use his work against the hero he chose, but if they did, then it was like the comments said. That was their choice, and it was up to the hero to find a way past it. Izuku would try to make sure nothing he wrote could be used to kill, but murder wasn’t the only goal of villains. Izuku would have to be careful. There were too many options, Izuku needed to sift through his notebooks as soon as possible. And fix his current one. And make a new account.
The last thought gave him a pause. The first post was on a test account he hadn’t cared to set up properly, if he was really doing this he should be serious about it. But now that he thought of it, there were a few more things to consider. Such as the fact that what he was planning had the potential to lead to more heroes’ getting hurt, and even if he wasn’t actually doing anything wrong, Izuku didn’t want that traced back to him.
As he walked home, Izuku came up with a to-do list. His first priority was to figure out how to keep his account being connected with him. After all, it was just as he’d thought back when he first started this all. He was paranoid. He liked to cover his bases. And this time, he was serious.
He knew that once he did this there was no turning back. One post would turn to two, would turn to who knows how many. Izuku smiled. He couldn't wait.
— — —
Izuku did his research. He added ‘learn about computers and code’ to his overarching to-do list. He got a vpn. He chose a hero. He made the account. He deleted the first one, erasing the post and all the comments. He’d memorized the important ones. The test phase was over.
Worthless nonsense.
Garbage.
Worthless nobody.
It’s just as useful as you are.
Three weeks after his thirteenth birthday Izuku Midoriya clicked a button without hesitation, and TheWorthlessAnalyst made his first official post.