Archive of Our Own ^beta

Resources

Contacts

A picture of a little black book.

That’s what class 2-A is greeted with on the blackboard when they walk into class one innocuous Monday morning.

Aizawa-sensei enters a few seconds after the class sits down. He’s carrying a large stack of papers. They make a dull thunk sound upon being dropped onto the desk, making Kyoka flinch. Sudden loud noises are a pain.

“Today’s lesson, which will stretch into the following weeks, is about resources. By which I mean the resources a hero has and uses to solve cases, defeat villains, busts crime rings. Those of you going underground or becoming twilight heroes will be more affected by this, but limelight heroes occasionally have to work close with the police and other underground/twilight heroes are also in need of their own network.”

The class listens attentively. Though, indeed, most of them plan on going limelight, there are only a few left who plan on going twilight and rather plan to go underground entirely. They can’t help but wonder how this information will help them in their endeavors in the future.

“There’s a saying about this. Any good hero and any GREAT underground hero has a little black book. Anyone can tell me what that is?”

Immediately, the usual suspects raise their hands, Momo and Tenya. Not entirely surprising, but still not entirely as usual is Izuku raising his hand. Aizawa-sensei calls on him.

“A little black book refers to the contacts a hero has, their network of resources. In the early underground hero scene, it was common practise to keep your contacts in a little black book, but for practical and security reasons, underground heroes have stopped that practise of keeping so much information in such a vulnerable medium and have resorted to other methods. The imagery of a little black book has, however, remained as the go-to metaphor for the place one keeps their contacts and resources listed.” As Izuku explains, Aizawa-sensei nods. He even looks a little impressed with Izuku.

The rest of the class figures Izuku knows this because he’s such a hero nerd and fanboy. Of course, he would know things like this.

“Exactly,” agrees Aizawa-sensei, “It’s illogical to actually keep a little black book full of contacts, but for the purpose of having a mnemonic, we will be using the term. Now,” a little robot shoots out from under the desk, grabs the stack of papers, always ten stapled together, and distributes them among the students before rushing back under the desk, “I prepared for you some common resources that all heroes have access to. Common groups that help in recon and investigations and clean-up. The latter sounds unimportant until you realize it’s a catch-all term for both the actual clean-up crew and the forensics team. Believe me, after the first time you work with them, you will understand. I want you to read through the papers by next class and familiarize yourselves with them.”

Tenya raises his hand and Aizawa-sensei calls on him, “Will we be learning how to gather our own network of resources?”

“Yes and no. Truly, I can’t teach you how to network right now and have the methods still be relevant once you graduate. A lot of networking in the underground is about proving yourself worthy or trustworthy to the party or person in question you’re trying to network with. Yet more of it is entirely coincidental. However, you lot have a distinct advantage over most hero classes. Due to your close connection with each other, which I’m sure will last well after graduation,” the class sheepishly looks to the side, as if they don’t make plans for starting a hero agency with the whole class, “I’m sure you would all be willing to share any resources and contacts with each other.”

Aizawa-sensei turns around and writes on the blackboard. Possible sources. He circles it.

“Now, off the top of your head, where would you look, who would you consider?”

A few beats of silence in which no one raises their hand. Then, of course, Momo and Tenya raise theirs. Aizawa-sensei calls on Momo.

“I would ask the police, they in turn have their own network, I’m sure, so by going to them, I would, by extension, have access to a whole different network.”

Aizawa-sensei nods and writes it on the blackboard. He calls on Tenya next, who gives a similar answer of consulting with other heroes. This goes on for a bit until most have been called on and a lot of things have been written on the board. Then, Izuku raises his hand and gets called on.

“Information brokers.” He simply states. A few in the class shoot him a surprised look. Aizawa-sensei is less surprised. He knows the ambitions of his problem child.

“Interesting suggestion, Midoriya.” He says, which startles the class, because he hasn’t been commenting on their suggestions. “What do you know about information brokers?”

“While most people would call them villains outright, because they tend to work with them more often than not, information brokers are actually more of a grey area than most people think. Information brokers are neutral. They would work with anyone for the right price. Said price doesn’t even have to be monetary, a lot of them work based on favours and information, because that’s how they survive, by selling information. They would work for heroes, for villains, civilians, anyone! Anyone who pays the price. So, yeah, I’d go to them.”

“Very good, Midoriya. Information brokers are a legal grey area. They make information and the selling thereof their business, but not only that. They also deal in favours. Don’t make it a habit to owe them, and I’d advise you not to ever owe them at all, at least not without a clear mutual understanding of your limits, both ability wise and morally. Because they deal with favours as well, they are capable of providing services beyond simple information, but they themselves don’t tend to owe others if they can help it; it’s dangerous business to owe someone in the underground. They can sell weaponry, drugs, gadgets, material, most anything you need. These things are usually illegal, don’t ask them about where they get their things. This is about plausible deniability, which we will go over later. Most information brokers that you’ll come across are shrewd and cunning. But most of all, they’re resourceful. Most of them will have invisible quirks, or none at all, which makes them easy to gloss over and overlook.” (Izuku can tell almost the entire class glossed over the none at all bit of Aizawa-sensei’s explanation.) “If you find an information broker, by all means, make them part of your arsenal. It will save your hide down the line.”

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Shouji Mezou feels like he’s going insane. He’s interning at an underground hero agency that works in close collaboration with the police. Going in, he was excited. He heard many good things about this hero agency, mainly about the leading hero, Confound. Her hero name chosen after her quirk, she can cause people in a radius of minimum 5 to maximum 40 metres to become confounded and thus unable to fight adequately. She also has a fox mutation, giving her fox ears, a fox tail, and the feet of a fox (along with a certain, unpleasant smell). She didn’t bat an eye when Mezou introduced himself in his interview for the internship, towering over her. It was a welcome change of pace for Mezou, who is used to people being afraid of or intimidated by him upon first meeting him.

Confound is a kind but stern hero. She leads her agency with a strong hand, but knows when to be lenient and allow for breaks (or force them, at times, as she sighed on that first day, making her sidekicks and fellow heroes groan, and Mezou laugh). The first few days of his internship, Mezou spent with her, getting to know a few of the other heroes and sidekicks. But then, unexpectedly, a huge mission came up that required her expertise for the next months and she was forced to hand him over to another hero in her agency. She was incredibly reluctant to do so, trying to insist on Mezou accompanying her to her mission, but she was shot down.

She gave her fellow hero strict instructions on Mezou’s further training, warming Mezou’s heart in how much care and effort she put into the plan for him.

But, in the end, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because that hero (her second in command, essentially) pushed him off to another hero, who pushed him off to a sidekick, and on and on, until Mezou was pushed to the oldest sidekick of the agency, who is a bitter jerk. He’s called Spy Boy. He’s 43.

He’s bitter, because he is the oldest sidekick at the agency and has been stuck as a sidekick for 20 years since graduation. Spy Boy’s older than Confound, by seven years. He hates her. Every hour Mezou spent with him, he kept on ranting and raving and muttering angrily about how he should have been promoted ages ago, how Confound doesn’t know how to run an agency, how she doesn’t know how to pick interns if Mezou is someone she picked. Mezou was very ready to just ignore the man for the rest of the internship. That is, until one day, when Mezou arrived at the agency, and the first thing he heard from the sidekick was: „Oi, kid, get over here. I got a case for you.“

Which is why Mezou finds himself in a part of the agency he isn’t even allowed to be: the cold case archives. Spy Boy gave him a cold case and told him to keep working on it till the end of his internship, or until he solved it. Worst thing about it (if you disregard how blatantly illegal it is for him to give Mezou a cold case in the first place without prior approval by the head hero of the agency) is that the cold case has absolutely no leads.

It’s a robbery-homicide type of case. Four years ago, a rather old person, Razalas Aroz, was killed and an amulet was stolen. The person had no friends, no enemies, no living relatives, nothing. Their neighbour called their murder in because Mx. Aroz’ cat and dog kept yeowling and barking respectively, well into the night, and kept pushing heavy things over. Smart animals, Mezou thought when he read that bit of the file. The neighbour, a young woman named Gio Blyndeff, reported that the victim always wore an amulet. She described it as follows: A big, golden cat holding onto an emerald (she doubted the authenticity of the gold or of the jewel), hanging on a silver chain. She reported that Mx. Aroz rarely ever left their home. „People weren’t kind to them, ya know. They’re, uh-… what’s it called… ‚functionally quirkless‘ or sum like that. Dunno what their actual quirk used to be. I asked once, they said their quirk used to hurt them and they’re glad to be rid of it. Strange someone, they were.“

The amulet that Miss Blyndeff described was not found on Mx Aroz, nor anywhere in their apartment, nor in Miss Blyndeff’s, upon investigation.

There were no leads, no signs of anyone forcing their way into the apartment, nothing else was stolen, and the amulet was never found, not even on the black market.

The case was dropped due to the lack of leads.

Mezou sighs, going over the case for the seventh time. Spy Boy has refused to give him any other kind of work, and he can’t ask anyone else, because they would only push him back to the bitter sidekick. Mezou is seriously considering asking Aizawa-sensei to be transferred literally anywhere else, but it makes him feel nauseous. He feels like he’s disappointing Confound somehow. Is she even aware of Spy Boy’s bitter attitude? Or that Mezou has been pushed to someone else by everyone, but especially by the second highest ranked hero in the agency? Regardless, he likes Confound a lot, she’s a great mentor, and he doesn’t want to lose any possible future opportunities with her because of this.

So he’ll bear it, like he usually does. He swallows down Spy Boy’s comments on his appearance, some of them of lewder nature than others, and he breaks open his head over this stupid case.

He doesn’t have any leads. Not even Miss Blyndeff, because she has been kidnapped by an unknown gang a year back. The only thing known about the gang is a symbol that a few of them were seen wearing. A square that’s broken in two, a tear in the middle separating the two halves. No such symbol is in their database for known gangs, and it hasn’t appeared since. Mezou wants to tear his hair out.

How is he supposed to solve this thing?!

Another sidekick walks into the small office Mezou has been granted for his internship and startles upon seeing him.

„Oh! Tentacole! Goodness, you startled me, I thought everyone had left! What are you still doing here?“ She asks him.

Mezou blinks at her, then pulls out his phone to check the time. It’s an hour past the end of his work day. He’s got a worried text and two missed calls from Aizawa-sensei. He quickly texts back an apology, telling Aizawa-sensei that he was lost in work and didn’t notice the time. Aizawa-sensei texts back that he’s going to pick Mezou up from the agency, just to be safe. Mezou smiles under his mask. Aizawa-sensei may seem coldhearted and ruthless, but he has such a soft spot for his class, it is undeniable.

„Sorry for startling you,“ Mezou says and nods his head. „Say, can I take this with me?“

He motions to the open file on the desk. The sidekick looks over it. „Cold one, eh? Yeah, should be all right. Spy wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t take home.“

„Will you sign off on it?“

„Sure, hold on.“ She grabs a piece of paper and writes on it that she authorizes Mezou to take the case home with him. „Here you go,“ she smiles and hands him the paper. Mezouu thanks her and she leaves. He wonders what she’s doing in the agency after the work day has finished. The night shift of the agency isn’t on this floor, nor is she part of it. Whatever, not like he cares.

He gets up and collects the file, along with the signed permission and puts them both into the briefcase that’s supposed to hold his hero costume. He doesn’t want to change out of it before getting to the dorms, he knows Aizawa-sensei will be here in only a few minutes, and getting changed would take Mezou longer than that and he doesn’t want to keep Aizawa-sensei waiting. He already got him worried, it won’t do to make it worse than it is.

He exits the agency, briefcase in hand. It’s pitch black outside and freezing cold. Or maybe it’s just cold to him, having been in a very warm building all day, unused to the cold. Aizawa-sensei’s car pulls up only ten seconds after Mezou exited the agency and he waves at the approaching car with his uppermost right arm. He gets into the car and buckles up. Aizawa-sensei isn’t a great driver, to say the very best of it, and it makes Mezou slightly nervous every time he is in the same car his teacher is driving, but he won’t actually complain. Instead, he holds tightly onto the grab handle on his side of the car. One of his appendages is turned into an ear, so he can hear Aizawa-sensei’s fond little huffed chuckle that he hides in his scarf.

“What kept you at the agency for so long?” Aizawa-sensei asks.

Mezou’s grip on the briefcase tightens just a bit, but it’s enough to leave a dent in the handle. He’s not afraid of Aizawa-sensei, nor of what he may say about Mezou bringing work back to the dorms, work that is most likely illegal for him to bring back with him. But he is cautious nonetheless.

“I was given a case to look at. I became engrossed in it, that’s all. I didn’t notice the time passing until another sidekick came looking and asked me what I was still doing there.” He explains.

Aizawa-sensei nods and doesn’t say anything else. It’s not too long before they arrive at the school and Aizawa-sensei escorts him to the main entrance of the dorms, before going his own way. Mezou sighs and goes inside, anticipating a long night of wrecking his head over this stupid case. It’s late and the common area is nearly empty. Only Izuku and Katsuki are still there. It’s uncharacteristic for Katsuki to be awake at this time of day, but Mezou doesn’t inquire. Izuku raises his head when Mezou comes in and smiles at him brightly.

On any other day, seeing Izuku’s smile would brighten up anyone’s day instantly, but today, Mezou finds himself in such a horrible mood because of that dumb case, that even Izuku’s smile could not cheer him up. His bad mood must be palpable, because Izuku winces in sympathy and Katsuki raises a brow at him. Izuku gets up and approaches Mezou.

“Are you okay?” Izuku asks, “You look really tired, Mezou.”

For a few moments, Mezou remains silent, then Katsuki gets up with an annoyed groan. “I’m going to bed. Night, fuckers.” And he disappears up the stairs with a huff, leaving Izuku and Mezou in the common area alone.

Mezou sighs. “I… I don’t think I can talk about it. Legally speaking, I mean. I… I was given this case, a cold one, and it has been driving me up the wall. My mentor was made to leave not long into my internship, and I was passed down and down until I was pushed to this bitter sidekick, and he doesn’t care about me getting anything out of this internship. He just gave me this cold case and told me to solve it!”

He couldn’t help but rant. Leave it to Izuku to be able to get Mezou, who is usually such a quiet person, to rant and rave like this with only one question and that look in his eyes. Something about Izuku makes you trust him implicitly, makes you open up to him, no matter how much you usually want to keep yourself and your innermost thoughts hidden.

“Do you want to talk about it more? Maybe I can help?” Izuku’s eyes are open and honest and so sincere. Mezou feels like he could confess anything to Izuku and, oh, isn’t that a dangerous ability for someone to have?

Mezou nods. “Might as well. I don’t think I was technically allowed to take it here with me. Let’s talk in my room?”

Mezou’s room, like Kyoka’s and Izuku’s, is lined with a soundproof material. He would not be able to sleep without it like that, though he is sure Kyoka has got it worse than him. He opens the briefcase and places the file onto his desk when they get into his room. Izuku closes the door behind himself and sits down on Mezou’s bed after the latter motions for him to do so. Mezou grabs the file from the desk and hands Izuku the first page.

“It’s so stupid. There is no lead, the only other person ever involved is kidnapped, most likely dead, and I’m in a bind.” Mezou sighs. Izuku skims over the file, freezing for a moment when he sees the symbol of the unknown gang that kidnapped Miss Blyndeff.

“And your mentor won’t help you? That doesn’t sound like Confound.” His brows are furrowed.

Mezou shakes his head. “Confound is away on a mission. Spy Boy, one of the old sidekicks, gave me this case to work on.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.” Izuku nods. As if he knows who Spy Boy is and is aware of his personality and how he would handle these things. Although, knowing Izuku, he probably does. It’s scary to think about, sometimes, how vast Izuku’s knowledge on all things heroics and heroes is.

“It’s… stressful, to say the least. He expects me to solve this case. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that with no leads and no help, and by the time my internship ends. It’s downright impossible,” he laments.

Izuku nods, turning the page to the pictures of the amulet. He raises a brow. He mouths something, but Mezou can’t make it out. “It’s certainly impossible without the right resources, but I doubt Spy Boy is willing or knowledgeable enough to give you them.”

“Wouldn’t he be at least somewhat knowledgeable, given that he’s been in the business for twenty years?”

“You’d think so, but then again, he’s still a sidekick for a reason. But I think I can help you…” Izuku pulled out his phone and started typing.

“How? I mean, I know how good you are at analysis and such, but I’m not sure I can be helped with this, given how there are no leads.”

“Word of Mouth is more powerful than you think,” is the only thing Izuku mutters in reply before becoming engrossed in whatever he is doing on his phone. Mezou frowns a bit under his mask. He’s not used to wearing it in the dorms anymore, but he has become more self-conscious again during his internship. He has a feeling Izuku has already gathered as much and is not happy about it. Something about this feels dangerous.

A few moments later, Izuku smiles, relieved and happy, and he turns to Mezou. “Okay, I found someone who can help you. They’re really good at gathering information and they’re willing to help. Just a heads up, they’re an information broker. Don’t worry about the price for the information this time around, they… owe me.”

Mezou blinks, taken aback. “They owe you?” But that can’t be right, now can it? Unbidden, Aizawa-sensei’s words from class a few weeks ago come back to him, it’s dangerous business to owe someone in the underground.

Izuku nods. “Don’t worry about it. They go by Redacted, and they’re part of a larger organization. I can’t tell you more than that, but if they deem you trustworthy, they may just tell you themself.” Izuku types into his phone and Mezou’s phone chimes with a notification. “I sent you the address where they want to meet you tomorrow.”

Mezou’s mind is reeling a bit. When he decided to talk to Izuku about his problems, he wasn’t expecting the other to put him into contact with an information broker, much less one from a larger organization, which feels a lot more important than just a freelance information broker, somehow. Izuku gets up and walks over to the door. Before he leaves, though, he turns around one last time, the look in his eyes serious and heavy and Mezou feels like he’s about to be crushed under that gaze if he doesn’t measure up somehow.

“One last thing, Mezou… Whatever you find out about Redacted, or whatever they deign to tell you about themself…” He sighs, a bit defeated, “I can’t ask you for much, but I am asking you to keep an open mind. Please don’t judge them for what they can’t control.”

And with those as his last words, Izuku leaves, leaving Mezou baffled and confused and his mind reeling more than even before. Keep an open mind? Mezou wonders what Izuku could be talking about. He looks at his phone, checks the address that Izuku sent him.

An information broker. Aizawa-sensei told them to be careful when interacting with them, never to owe them if they can help it, but… this one owed Izuku, not the other way around. This would be a freebie, essentially, for Mezou. Still, he’s not so sure about this. Information brokers are a legal grey area at best, and Mezou has been called a villain for most of his life, merely due to his appearance… He doesn’t want to do things that would give people reason to call him a villain based on his actions as well now.

But then again, information brokers are legally grey, they’re not outright villains, they’re neutral at worst and at best. It doesn’t sit right with Mezou to think of this Redacted as a villain or bad person in general, just for their profession. He has to at least meet them. Give them a chance.

He sleeps on it. The next morning, he is yet more convinced to give this person a chance. Maybe they can help him, and he won’t even have to worry about the price of the whole ordeal.

And so, once dressed for work, he leaves the dorms and makes his way to the agency. Izuku also texted him the time that Redacted wants to meet up with him along with the address, but it won’t be until later in the day, so Mezou still has time to gnaw at the case by himself.

He doesn’t get very far, mind you, but at this point the feeling of defeat over this case is anything but new to him, although it is still very much annoying.

Spy Boy walks by his office, conversing with a new sidekick. Mezou doesn’t care to listen to the conversation, but due to his quirk, it grabs his attention anyway. He tries to tune it out until Spy Boy mentions quirkless people.

“… and then I found out she was quirkless! The nerve of her to lie to me about that!”

From another office, the head of another sidekick pops out, looking annoyed. “You’ve been telling that same story for ages, Spy Boy, when are you fucking over it?! So what she was quirkless, you asshole, you still cheated on her and then dumped her on your anniversary.”

Spy Boy looks appalled and disgusted. “She was a quirkless freak and lied to me about it! I touched that woman!”

“This isn’t even up for discussion, dude, you’re the asshole!” The sidekick yells. Mezou thinks he remembers their hero name being Tempest. Her quirk is something about controlling the weather in her immediate surroundings. Small dark clouds gather over her head, rumbling dangerously with angry thunder. She came back from a mission last night, if he remembers correctly. “Like, oh my g-ds, dude, you make it sound like quirklessness is contagious! Get a grip, Spy Boy.”

The new sidekick looks uncomfortable between the two yelling at each other and Mezou is sympathetic towards that.

“For all I know, it is!”

“Shows what you know! It’s been what? Twenty years? Get over it already! It’s no wonder you can’t make it from sidekick to hero with your horrible attitude toward people. Who wants to be saved by an asshole like you!” The thunder from her clouds becomes louder.

“Fuck you, Tempest, it’s not my fault-”

“Fuck you, yes, it is!”

“Fuck you, no, it’s not! That bitch fucking cursed me, said she’d make sure I’d never accomplish my dream. She’s been sabotaging me, I fucking tell you!”

“Sabotage you how?! You think quirkless people are incapable of anything, so tell me, how the fuck is a supposedly incapable person supposed to sabotage you? You’re fucking delusional, Spy Boy, plain and simple.” And with those scathing words and a lightning bolt striking at Spy Boy’s feet to make him jump, she storms back into her office, muttering how she’s over this bullshit.

For the third time that week, Mezou is left reeling, this time at the intensity of the argument and the subject thereof. What the fuck… he thinks to himself. He glances at the clock across the office. It’s not yet time to meet up with Redacted, but he gets up anyway.

“Where are you going?” Spy Boy growls at him when Mezou tries to pass by.

“I’m meeting up with someone who may help me with the case,” he says and, like an afterthought, tacks on, “Sir.”

“What? You can’t-”

“FUCKING, YES HE CAN!” Tempest comes storming from out of her office again. She jabs a finger into Spy Boy’s chest, “He is such a poor sod to be stuck under your mentorship, the fucking least you can do is not be in the fucking way! What did you even leave him stuck with? Probably that bullshit Amulet case!” At Spy Boy’s guilty shift of the eyes, she explodes at him, lightning shooting across the office from above her head. “OH FUCK YOU, YOU DIDN’T!”

Deciding not to became witness to a crime, Mezou flees the scene.

He gets out of the agency in a matter of minutes, heading a way down, towards the address Izuku sent him. On his way, he ponders Izuku’s heavy words. He wonders what made Izuku say those things to him? To warn him like that? It felt like a warning anyway, and a well meant one at that. One that doesn’t accuse him of being prone to do the thing wrong he warned against, but to be extra cautious not to commit a mistake either way.

To make that mistake Izuku warned against, it feels dangerous to even consider it. And so he doesn’t.

Dangerous.

Izuku feels dangerous.

It’s a horrible thought, really, but it’s haunted Mezou’s conscience for the past nigh two years. Ever since he was first in Izuku’s presence, something about the boy, though not immediately visible, called out to Mezou danger. Like an animal that only needed provoking to become feral and kill, or, worse yet, like a calculating machine, deciding whether or not it should allow you, deign to impart upon you the privilege to remain alive.

Looking at Izuku, one would call Mezou crazy for that reaction, but he’s not the only one. Fumikage and Koji have both confessed to feel the same danger emanating from Izuku. Never directed at them or any other of their classmates or teachers, but it’s something that is undeniably there, just under his skin, waiting to be unleashed upon whichever hapless victim may stumble across the trigger to free it.

And, remembering the Shie Hassaikai raid Mezou saw on TV, well, he knows what triggers that danger to be unleashed. He knows what it looks like. It’s not as terrifying as he imagined it to be.

Oh no.

It’s worse.

But it’s also not all of it. Mezou can feel that was only a fraction of the anger and power Izuku is capable of. Now, whether he just hasn’t unlocked his full potential or he purposefully keeps it locked away is to be determined, but one thing is for sure, Mezou has no interest in uncovering that.

It’s strangely alluring as well. And over time, Mezou (along with the other two) has to admit that he feels entirely safe around Izuku. Not in the way one feels safe around something harmless, but rather in the way one feels around someone strong, knowing they will protect you at all costs. Now that feeling is exhilirating.

But Mezou hasn’t the time to think too much about it or what it may mean for his relationship with Izuku. He’s nearing the spot where Redacted is supposed to meet with him.

A warehouse. Unoriginal, but Mezou supposes it doesn’t matter. A bit nervous about the whole ordeal, he enters.

There’s a table and two chairs at it, across from each other. On the chair facing him is a person. They don’t look like much, no distinguishing features, really. In a crowd, Mezou’s eyes would gloss right over them. They’re leaned back on the chair, feet on the table. They’re wearing red shoes with black laces and white soles. Mezou notes this only because he recognizes them as the exact same kind of shoes Izuku wears. Strange coincidence. They have short, dark blue hair, their edges going over into purple, obviously dyed. There is nothing that could indicate a quirk, so they must have an invisible one.

Next to the shoes, the other thing of note is the medical mask they’re wearing, which is sporting a familiar symbol of a square torn in two.

“Redacted?” He asks, just to be safe.

They nod. “Tentacole, Shouji Mezou?” They ask in turn. Mezou nods. “Great. Sit down, let’s talk business.”

Mezou approaches the chair and sits down on it. From this near, he has a better look at them. They look around thirty years old and there is a smug, yet angry aura about them.

Redacted takes their shoes off the table and leans on it with their arms instead, leaning forward.

“So I heard you got yourself in a pickle with a case, eh? Least that’s what Deku said.”

Mezou nods. “I was given a cold case. But there are no leads, one of the witnesses has been kidnapped some time ago and is likely dead. It’s impossible to solve.”

Redacted hums. “Impossible, eh… Let’s just see about that.” They reach their left hand out. “Hand it over, I’ll see what I can do.”

Hesitating for a few seconds, Mezou finally pulls out the manila folder that holds that stupid cold case and hands it over to Redacted. They open the folder and flip through the few pages, freezing upon seeing the page with the amulet drawing.

“My, my, my, what have we here?” They grin.

“What is it?”

“I may have just found you your lead, Tentacole.” Their grin turns into a smirk and Mezou is left baffled.

“What? Already?”

“Do hold on a sec,” they say, holding up a finger and rummaging around the bag under the desk Mezou only notices now, and they pull out a folder of their own. Opening it, they pull out a photo. It’s clear as day, taken from an angle diagonally above the subject of the picture. It depicts a man, sitting on an armchair by the window, an amulet around his neck. The same one as was stolen.

“What- who-”

“This,” Redacted intones, “Is Kurushimu Dorobo. Quirk: Glass Bones. His bones are made of literal glass. According to himself, every step he takes is utter pain and agony. He is rich. Not rich enough to bribe more than one or two politicians, but rich enough to hire someone to get him this.” They point at the amulet.

“What is ‘this’?” Mezou asks, still confused.

“This is the Enesra Amulet. A hundred years or so ago, or so it’s said, someone had a quirk that dulled other people’s quirks, made them less intense, if you will. They helped people whose quirks hurt them. But they were afraid to die and leave so many hurting people behind, so, in collaboration with another quirk that could imbue other’s quirks into objects, they created the Enesra Amulet, named after them.”

“And- and this is it?” Mezou asks, in awe.

“The very same. Oh boy, this sure is a find! Want me to get this for you?” Their grin is slightly feral at this point, a dark glint in their eyes before they catch themselves at Mezou’s freaked out look. “Sorry, yeah, you don’t want that, do ya.” They sheepishly rub the back of their head.

“Wait, so this Kurushimu Dorobo has the amulet. Do we know how he got it? Maybe he purchased it?”

Redacted shrugs. “Dunno, but I can find out for you. No upcharge, don’t worry. Promised Deku I’d get to the bottom of this with you.” They get up and grab their bag.

“Wait… How do you know Deku anyway? He said you owe him…”

Redacted raises a brow at Mezou. “How we know each other?” He smirks then, and the glint in his eyes returns. “Let’s just say birds of a feather flock together. I’ve said enough on the matter. I’ve no reason to trust you as of now, Tentacole, not beyond how far I can throw you. Hell, I’m not even sure I can pick you up. Deku may have vouched for you, but I’m not yet convinced.”

They put the folder and photo back into their bag and close it and throw it over their shoulder onto their back and straighten up to their full height, which isn’t a lot and thus not that impressive, but Mezou has the feeling it’s not supposed to be. “If you’ll excuse me, I have info to find. Don’t worry, I’ll contact you through Deku. I advise you to invest in a couple of burner phones. If I find that business between us will be viable, we’ll exchange contacts. But for now, through Deku. Goodbye.”

And with that they leave via the back door.

Mezou feels strangely accomplished. He has a suspect now, at least. He can work with this. Redacted is looking into the guy by themselves, but that doesn’t mean Mezou can’t look into the guy as well!

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Except it does, and he can’t.

That is to say, Spy Boy has now graduated from ignoring Mezou to downright sabotaging him. He won’t allow Mezou access into the archives of high profile civilians, citing that he’s not allowed to grant Mezou such permission. Never mind the fact he wasn’t allowed to give Mezou control of a cold case, but whatever. That man clearly picks and chooses as fits his current narrative. What a joke.

He’d go to Tempest, but she is on another mission and won’t be back until the next day. What a joke.

And on top of all that, Spy Boy has him on paperwork duty.

If Mezou doesn’t commit a murder by the end of the day, he will count today as a win.

But oh, if it’s not tempting.

He does the paperwork assigned to him diligently. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t let his disdain show on his face, not that anyone could see it if he would snarl under his mask. But he allows himself a sigh. Spy Boy passes by the desk just as he does so.

“Don’t complain, Hentai, I had to do twice the amount of work when I was your age.”

What did he call Mezou?! Oh, that murder thought is getting more and more tempting by the second.

“Not complaining, Sir.” His tone is monotonous, allowing for infinite interpretation of his meaning.

“Don’t get snarky with me! Teenagers these days, I swear, you get worse every year.” Spy Boy huffs.

And you’re a childish, entitled jerk, bullying a teenager because of your own insecurities and incompetence and failure to become more than a bitter old sidekick. Mezou thinks venomously.

Just then, his phone buzzes, diverting Mezou’s attention from his murderous thoughts. He picks it up with one hand and unlocks it. It’s a text from Izuku.

“Always on your phone! You’re working, you’re not here for leisure!” Spy Boy snarls.

Mezou ignores him.

He reads Izuku’s text.

Redacted told me about your meeting. They like you! (Don’t tell them I told you that…) They told me to tell you that they found proof on your case. I’m glad it’s coming along and they could help! They want to meet with you tomorrow again, same place, but earlier. Before you go to work, preferrably, but if you can’t manage that, tell me please and I can ask them to reschedule. Also, can you swing by the grocery store for some eggplants and cheese? Kacchan is making me try new recipes, but we don’t have enough eggplants and the type of cheese the recipe specifies. Goat cheese, btw. Yuuga already donated his stash, but it’s not enough if I want to feed the whole class tonight, and you’re closest to the grocery store that carries goat cheese. Please? I’ll pay you back!

Mezou can’t help but smile. He texts back.

I will. You don’t need to repay me. If anything, I owe you for putting me in contact with Redacted, Izuku. They’ve been a great help. I can tell you more about it once I’m home at the dorms. Until then. Pray I won’t commit a murder.

He wants to chuckle, but that would give his sudden good mood away for Spy Boy to mock and criticise, and Mezou is not in the mood for that.

Izuku texts back.

Nooo, don’t murder him! He’s mean, but think of your career! I’m not sure I can help you hide the body if you kill him all out in the public!

Now Mezou really wants to laugh. He’s not even sure Izuku is really joking. Somehow, Mezou thinks Izuku would really help him hide a body. Or anyone else from 2-A. That boy is dangerous.

The rest of the work day is just as infuriating, but Mezou manages not to kill Spy boy, so he counts the day as a win, one way or another. Izuku won’t need to help him hide a body. At least not today. Given how dark his thoughts are, he hurries home to the dorms. It’s strange that this place, these rooms and halls have become home so quickly. But then again, his class has become his family even quicker.

Izuku is in the kitchen, cooking with Katsuki, who is periodically yelling and making a fuss over things. Izuku is taking it in stride, as he always does, especially with Katsuki. The domesticity of it all has Mezou smile, and he goes up to his room to change. Being home and surrounded by his, by all accounts, family has him in a much better mood than during the day as a whole. Once changed, he heads back down, mask off and face exposed.

He hands the bag with eggplants and goat cheese to Izuku, who thanks him profusely, and Mezou only smiles and says it’s not a big deal. Izuku and Katsuki go back to cooking and Mezou heads into the common area to relax a bit with the rest of his class that’s already home. Denki is chilling on the sofa, cuddled up to Shouto’s left side for warmth while sucking on the charger plugged into Shouto’s phone, charging it for him. A symbiotic relationship.

Kyoka is on her phone too, her legs thrown over Denki and Shouto’s laps, lying down and listening to music via her earphone jacks earlobes.

Tooru is sitting on the other end of the sofa, talking excitedly with Uraraka and Mina, both of which are sitting on the ground in front of her. Hanta is hanging from the ceiling in a tape made hammock, living his best life, while Mashirao is lying in a similar such tape made hammock next to him, looking desperate to relax and yet unable to. Bless his heart, he’s trying. Tsuyu, Momo, Tenya and Hitoshi are working on homework at the big table. Hitoshi looks absolutely miserable, sleep deprived and like his head is starting to smoke from thinking about the homework problem.

Yuuga is nowhere to be seen, but the sparkling boy is usually home the latest of everyone. No one questions it, given how long it takes the boy to get into and out of his costume. Eijiro isn’t here either, but he usually goes to the gym after work for an hour before coming back to the dorms. Rikido is probably up in his room making dessert for after dinner with Koji. Half a year ago, Koji expressed interest in making treats for the animals he controls as a thank you, and since then Rikido and Koji have been baking together almost every evening since then. Fumikage isn’t home yet either, likely still at the agency he interns at, engrossed in a case.

Mezou sits down on the second sofa. The others greet him, some more absentmindedly than others. The TV is on, some pre-quirk alien movie is playing quietly. Only Shouto seems to be paying attention to it. Denki looks too blissed out leeching off of Shouto’s warmth to care much about anything. Mezou may want to go to Uraraka for the betting pool after all.

Just then Fumikage enters, looking annoyed and exhausted. Without a second of hesitation, he flops down onto the sofa next to Mezou.

“Bad day?” Mezou and Mina ask at the same time.

“What a mad banquet of darkness,” Fumikage growls, but it’s muffled by the pillow his face is mushed against. “Villains know no rest, and so neither shall I.”

“Oh! Right! You helped with the take down of five villains today, didn’t you?” Tooru exclaims excitedly.

Fumikage groans. Dark shadow emerges from his back and whines, flopping onto Mezou. “Hugs!” Dark Shadow demands. “Hugs from hugmaster!”

Mezou chuckles and opens up his arms. Dark Shadow exclaims happily and drags Fumikage into Mezou’s arms and cuddles up as well. Fumikage is too exhausted to embarrassed and just lets it happen.

Izuku and Katsuki emerge from the kitchen, both looking like they had a fight with vegetables and just barely won, with many unnecessary losses.

“Food should be ready in half an hour! Who wants to set the table?” Izuku beams.

Hanta emerges from his hammock and falls down, landing expertly on his feet. “I’ll do it!” And he heads into the kitchen to get the plates and utensils.

Izuku heads for the sofa Mezou is on. He smiles when he sees Fumikage and Dark Shadow cuddled into Mezou’s many arms. He looks like he wants to be part of the hug party too. Maybe Mezou will offer his arms later.

“You were great out there, Fumikage and Dark Shadow! Especially your fight against Saw Blade! The way you soared above him and dodged his attack!” Izuku then briefly devolves into muttering an analysis of the rest of the fight and ends with a solid, “You were so cool!”

Fumikage only hums appreciatively, but Dark Shadow peels away from the hug and circles around Izuku to embrace him briefly. “I know right?! We were great!” Dark Shadow returns to cuddling with Fumikage and Mezou.

Izuku sits down with them, leaning against Mezou from his left side, pulling out his phone and looking at some forum that Mezou doesn’t know. He watches Izuku scroll and click on a post. He’s sent to the main post, and the name of the website is displayed on the top of the screen.

WORD OF MOUTH

Mezou isn’t the type to go on social media a lot. He has a few accounts, but they’re all private and he only follows his classmates on them. He never posts anything himself.

But being friends with Denki, Mina, Yuuga and Tooru, he has absorbed a lot of knowledge about social media and memes and the like. Most importantly, he has a broad, though shallow, knowledge on what social media sites exist. He’s never heard of Word Of Mouth.

He pulls out his own phone and types it into the search bar. The results don’t show the actual website, only posts on other sites talking about it, asking about it. He clicks on one of them. He doesn’t notice Izuku watching him from the corner of his eye.

r/InternetMysteries posted by u/wormofmyheart

What is this website? “Word Of Mouth” no way to access it

Hey, guys. Not sure if this fits here, but I don’t know where else to put it. So I got this friend, and he’s on his phone a lot. I’ve seen him use this website called Word Of Mouth, but no matter where I look and what browsers I use, I can’t find it. He won’t tell me what it is, but I wanna make sure it’s not some weird brainwashing cult thing… Anyone know what the site is about and how I can access it? I really just wanna check it out, make sure it’s not dangerous.

Comments 4 Share

Mezou raises a brow. Now that’s concerning. He’s about to press the comments button, but a ding! from the kitchen interrupts his thought process. Izuku shoots up and hurries into the kitchen, closely followed by Katsuki. Suddenly feeling cold on his left side, Mezou is startled enough to mindlessly turn off his phone and look at the doorway leading into the kitchen. Izuku opens the oven and gets out the food. It smells amazing. All thoughts about the strange website has left his brain.

“Food’s ready!” Izuku calls out and everyone present heads to the large dining table. Momo, Tenya, Tsuyu and Hitoshi have already put their homework away in favour for food.

Dinner tastes as good as it smells. Usually, Mezou doesn’t care for the taste of eggplants, but in this dish it really just melts on his tongue. Izuku needs to cook more often.

Conversation is amicable and excited around the table, only a few remaining silent, though listening intently to everyone else. Izuku is one of the quiet ones, surprisingly. He doesn’t talk much while eating, Mezou realises.

Dinner is over half an hour later. Plans are made for the movie night the next day. Ten minutes into dinner, Yuuga finally came back, looking a bit less twinkly than usual. Another with a long day. But his sparkle did return full force once tasting the food. Izuku had to deal with a lot of compliments on his cooking, reacting bashful and deflective with every compliment. He really can’t cope with compliments. It’s a bit worrying.

After dinner, Mezou approaches Izuku and he doesn’t even have to say anything. Izuku beams up at him. A thought comes unbidden to him.

Birds of a feather flock together. What did Redacted mean by that?

But before the thought can go any further, Izuku takes Mezou by his left bottom hand and leads him up the stairs to Mezou’s room. They enter and Izuku makes himself comfortable on the bed.

“So!” Izuku begins, “Wanna talk about the case? Redacted said they got you a lead and are looking more into it, but they didn’t wanna tell me more than that, they don’t wanna break your trust.”

Mezou nods. “We have a suspect now, at least. The suspect was photographed wearing the amulet I showed you the drawing of yesterday. I was very surprised when Redacted immediately pulled the photo out. Did you tell them beforehand?”

Izuku shakes his head. “Nope. I can imagine that they got that picture for something else at first, and it just happened to also be important for you. They didn’t let you keep it, right?”

Mezou nods, “They took the photo back with them. Ah, about the meet up tomorrow… I can probably make it, but not on time. I’ll be late by roughly ten minutes, due to commute. I hope that’s not too bad.”

Izuku puts a hand to his chin in thought. “Hm. Shouldn’t be, unless they have another meeting shortly after yours. But they don’t usually plan them so close together. I’ll text them and ask. I’ll tell you their answer when I get it. They don’t usually respond right away.”

“Anyway. We think the person who was seen with the amulet may have something to do with the murder. The amulet supposedly has the power-”

“To alleviate the effects of the wearer’s quirk, yeah…”

Mezou’s mind grinds to a halt. “How… How did you know?”

Izuku looks surprised at his own words. He quickly replies, looking sheepish, “Oh, uh, I heard about it! Enesra amulet, right?”

“Where did you hear about it?” Mezou can’t help but wonder.

“Oh, you know me, I’m on a lot of forums, I read a few posts about it some time ago. Someone was really interested in getting it.” Izuku shrugs.

“When was this?”

“Oh, uh… I think… Wow, it has to be like… damn, four years now? Give or take? Hold on, I got screenshots.” He takes out his phone and starts searching. A few minutes pass in silence, before Izuku exclaims, “Aha! Found it!” And he shows Mezou the screenshot of the the post. It’s the same strange website that Izuku was using before dinner.

Enesra amulet. Need it quick!

Post by CEASAR-A-D
hello, fellow burdens, i have a Question. i’m in need of Help, you see, and i think you can provide me with this Help. does anyone have any Good Idea where i can find the enesRa amulet? a friend of mine has a qUirk that really bothers him in his daily life and causes him great suffering. i would be Very grateful if anyone Here cOuld point me in a general directiOn.
oComment oMessage

Mezou raises a brow. “That’s… a weird post, by all accounts.”

Izuku shrugs. “It’s pretty normal for this site. The other two posts are nearly identical, only worded a bit differently. But it’s the same user asking around for the amulet.”

“I wonder if that could have been the suspect.”

“No,” Izuku replies immediately, leaving no room for discussion. Mezou wants to ask how he can be so sure, but something is keeping him from asking. “I don’t think so. Anyway, Redacted texted back about you being late tomorrow. They said it’s fine.”

Shortly after that, Izuku leaves Mezou’s room.

There is something strange about that boy.

Stranger than usual.

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“You know, ten minutes late would get you killed in my business.”

Mezou cringes when Redacted says that. “Glad not to be in your business then…”

“Anyway,” they roll their eyes, “You won’t believe what I got for you.”

They drop a briefcase onto the table with a heavy thunk.

“See,” they continue, gaining more excitement with each word, “This is a really interesting case, got my old gears turning like no tomorrow. It’s almost worth doing it just for the satisfaction of it, just almost. And it’s a pain to actually get shit on people like our dear Mister Kurushimu Dorobo, you feel? This dude is old money rich, those are always kooky. And see, I went to snoopin’.”

“What did you find?”

“See, that’s the thing. Our dear Mister Kurushimu is actually pretty good at keeping his shit hidden and secret. No friends, no family, no kids, nada. Nothing and no one close to him, that means he’s hiding shit and is afraid of people revealing his dirty underwear, you know? Can’t divulge secrets if you got no one to divulge them to, you know? Anyway, so I went snoopin’, did what I do best, and what, pray tell, do I fucking find hidden waaaaay back in his little black book?”

Redacted grins almost manically. Mezou wants to drag the point out of their nose, but he feels like that would be rude and counterproductive. They open the briefcase and take a little black book out of it, slamming it onto the table and shoving it towards Mezou.

“What is-”

“THIS, dear Tentacole, is Mister Kurushimu’s entire financial history in one place. All his purchases, including this,” they flip the book open to a marked page, “This little entry. Services of Mx. D.M. Ramsey, I owe him more than I could ever repay in money. And this name, I instantly recognized. D. M. Ramsey, also known as Dino Mephistopheles Ramsey. A swiss information broker, used to do his own dirty work back in the day, finally learned to outsource in recent years. This name isn’t just well known in the info broker circles, but your boss should know about him too.”

“How did you get all this in such a short time?”

“Because I’m fucking good, Tentacole, I know my shit.”

“Oh my g-ds…”

Redacted’s grin turns almost feral. “I’m good aren’t I? Oughta hire me for your future cases too, that’s what you’re thinking, eh?” And they lean back on their chair.

“I… I feel bad… I didn’t do anything to get this information. Or to put together the clues…”

Redacted immediately waves him off. “Don’t blow your head out over it, kiddo. Wanna take a guess how many heroes, underground or otherwise, that consult with my sort solve their own cases? What do you think? 50%? 40%? Oh, it’s gotta be at least 30% right?” They show a thumbs down. “Nuh-uh! A mere 1.5%! Or 1.4, but I haven’t checked last months stats yet. Been a bit busy, dontchano.”

Mezou hesitates, “I’m not sure that makes me feel better about this.”

“Look at it this way, kid: You still gotta sell it to your boss. I mean, your boss will question you to fuck and back about where and how you got all this info. And unless you list me as your source, which you will not or any agreement I had with Deku will go flying straight out the window and you can kiss your hero career bye-bye, it will not be credible, nor hold up in court. Of course, since I’m nice, I can help you come up with a story, get at least an arrest and/or search warrant, but the rest? You gotta carry yourself. Deal?”

They talk fast. Almost too fast for Mezou to keep up with, but living with Izuku and Denki for just short of two years has taught him to keep up with faster. So he catches that bit at the end and isn’t caught off guard by it.

“Deal? Is this a new deal? Between us? Not you and Deku?” He asks.

Redacted tuts. “You pay attention. Good for you. Bad for business. But, see, Tentacole, you’re not half bad. I did a background check on you, wanted to see who I’m working with. I mean, Deku vouched for you, so you already had that going for ya, but I wanted to convince myself. You got a clean vest, I gotta admit that, and you’re not the dullest nail in the shop. And, you know what, since you’re a minor and Deku’s friend and all that jazz, you even get half off on anything but murder. Well, no, murder and radioactive bullshit, I don’t like working with that. How’s that sound?”

For a moment, and it really is just a moment, Mezou considers turning down the offer. Then, he remembers Aizawa-sensei’s opinion on dealing with information brokers. If you find an information broker, by all means, make them part of your arsenal. It will save your hide down the line.

“I think,” he starts, “That perhaps we should agree to a provisional deal, to see if we are compatible for future work.”

Redacted grins. “Got a mind for business there, kid. I like it. Yeah, let’s shake on it.” And they hold out their left hand.

Mezou takes it with his and they shake.

“All right,” Redacted says as they let go of Mezou’s hand, “Here’s what I got in mind for your story…”

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Mezou presents the findings to Spy Boy and Tempest. He asked for her to be there in case Spy Boy would be uncooperative. Tempest looks incredibly impressed, if a bit in disbelief that Mezou could have solved a case without any leads, all on his own. Spy Boy, on the other hand looks furious and ready to blow a fuse.

“Damn, well done, Tentacole. We can actually make an arrest with this!” Tempest says.

Spy Boy glares at Mezou. “You want me to believe that someone like you solved a case even Confound couldn’t?” He sneers. Mezou resists the urge to snap his neck.

“Oh, lay off the kid, asshole, just cause you couldn’t do it! I seem to recall this case was given to you four years ago, and you put it on ice almost immediately!” She accuses.

Spy Boy’s cheeks flush red in embarrassment and he turns his glare to Tempest.

“I was being sabotaged to the highest degree!”

“Oh, here we go again- GET OVER IT!” Tempest thunders. Literally. Clouds have formed around her head and are thundering loudly.

Before the two can start a fight, the doors to the office suddenly slam open, and Confound herself walks in, grinning like a lunatic, emanating nothing but danger. Immediately, the yelling freezes to death-silent, both Tempest and Spy Boy wilting in her imposing presence. Confound approaches the table on which Mezou’s evidence is displayed. Mezou is confused. Shouldn’t Confound be away on her mission?

Spy Boy, in an act of either bravery or stupidity (Mezou is leaning towards the latter), asks what Mezou is wondering. “Shouldn’t you be out on your mission? Ma’am?”

Confound turns to him, her grin showing off her sharp teeth. A clear threat.

“Oh, but you see, I was on my mission! And on my mission, I encountered someone who – well, let’s just say – someone who… should not have been there. Guess who was there, all of a sudden, as well?”

Mezou has to think for a moment. Then he remembers. The second in command hero, Fountain, left for a mission a week after pushing Mezou off to the next best person. Could it be that Fountain’s mission and Confound’s mission overlapped?

“Fountain?” he hazards to ask.

“Bingo, bullseye, right on the money!” Confound exclaims. “The very hero I left in charge of you, kid. And what must I learn? That my mentee was pushed off onto the next and the next and the next person, ending up with,” she turns around to face the sidekick in question, “You, Spy Boy. Now, the pushing off, while still unforgivable, I could understand, if we had been at all busy. You’re not to blame for the pushing off, the responsible parties will be punished accordingly. However,” her eyes glint dangerously and Spy Boy pales as the atmosphere in the room becomes too thick to breathe in, “You utterly disregarded my plan for this kid, tailored specifically to him, and what did you do instead? You tried to poison my mentee’s mind with your horrible attitude and, to put it mildly, treated him like garbage. You gave him an impossible to solve case and no help with it. You broke protocol, Spy Boy, you violated so many laws. You can count yourself lucky to ever even breathe in the same room as a sidekick, much less a hero.”

All the while she says this, her voice is eerily calm. “You will get out of my sight. You will put yourself into our holding cells and wait for what I decide to ultimately do with you. If you do not cooperate, I will have someone escort you. Get out.”

Spy Boy does the smart thing and leaves immediately. Like a dog with his tail between his legs, thoroughly scolded and told off.

Tempest breathes out and laughs nervously. “Holy shit,” she mutters under her breath, and Mezou can hear her say, even more quietly, “That was hot.”

Confound turns to Mezou, who straightens immediately upon having her eyes on him. But her eyes are nothing but kind and apologetic.

“I’m sorry you were subjected to this, Tentacole. I’ll understand if you never want to work with me or my agency ever again with the way you were treated. Rest assured that the actions of my fellow heroes and sidekicks will not go unpunished or unrecorded. Each and every one of them will, at minimum, have a permanent mark on their records and will go through extensive training. At minimum. I’m saying that, because I haven’t yet decided what punishment will drive the point home till exhaustion.”

Mezou is quick to shake his head. “Thank you, but that’s not-”

“If you were about to say it’s not necessary, you got another thing coming. They’re getting punished to the moon and back and that’s that. Now, what did I hear about you solving an impossible case?”

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Two weeks later, three days before the end of Mezou’s internship, Kurushimu Doboro is arrested and Mezou is greeted at work with a celebration. He promised Confound he still wanted to work with her, and she was happy to hear it. She explained to him that, upon hearing what was going on at her agency, she immediately got ahold of someone she trusted to take over her part in her mission until she could return to it, so she could come back and put the fear of the g-ds into every single hero and sidekick involved in Mezou’s mistreatment.

After Mezou’s last visit with Redacted, he got himself a burner phone and asked Izuku to ask Redacted to stay in contact with him via that burner phone and they agreed.

Furthermore, they agreed that after the arrest was made, that they would get together for a small celebration and a meeting to discuss their plans for future cooperation.

During the celebration at work, Mezou texts Redacted about it and asks them to meet at their usual spot later that day. Half an hour later, he gets a text to the affirmative.

Even over text, he notices, Redacted is very intense. It reminds Mezou of Izuku. That, in turn, reminds Mezou of what Redacted had said on the matter not too long ago. Birds of a feather flock together. He still hasn’t a clue what they meant by that. He also hasn’t gotten further on the mystery of the website Izuku uses. The only thing he could find out that it has something to do with a certain group having a safe space for themselves. It didn’t tell him what group.

But he decides to put the questions out of his mind for the time being. He’s happy, elated, really! He managed to solve a case, using networking no less. He feels like he is yet one step closer to becoming a good underground hero. He honestly hopes to work with Redacted more in the future. They seem nice enough, even if they’re very intense. It’s charming, in its own way, once you’re used to it, like with Izuku.

The end of the work day comes closer than he thought it would. Confound didn’t keep him for long, insisting that he go celebrate with his friends, and he is glad to do that, but he has to meet up with Redacted first.

He’s already on his way, nearly there, he can already see the warehouse up ahead. He hasn’t really paid proper attention to it until now. It’s obviously abandoned, judging by how neglected it looks. Almost all of its windows are broken or have cracks and they’re covered in dirt and dust.

He approaches the old doors and opens them, stepping inside. The table and chairs are still there, but today they’re empty. Mezou blinks in surprise. The other times, Redacted had waited for him in one of the chairs, but they’re not here today.

Unsure of what to do, Mezou takes a seat on his usual chair and pulls out his burner phone to pull up his chat with Redacted. He wants to make sure he didn’t misread his own texts and that he was too early after all. But no. According to his texts, he’s on time.

Redacted is late.

You know, ten minutes late would get you killed in my business.

Mezou is growing worried. Redacted always seemed to be very, very punctual. They haven’t been late before, ever. They explicitly said that being late is deadly in their field of work. Did something happen to them? Did a business deal or something like that go wrong? Did they get injured? Killed? Kidnapped?

Mezou isn’t one, usually, to spiral through the worst possibilities in his head, but he can’t help doing so right now. What if Redacted got kidnapped by some villain gang for information? What if they got in over their head with something, a deal, a job, and they got caught and killed for it?

Scenario upon scenario spiral through his head, each worse than the last one. He doesn’t want them in his head, shakes it to get rid of the offending intrusive thoughts, but it does not work for him. He looks back at his phone, his chat history with Redacted, and he texts them, where are you?

He waits. He waits and waits and waits. Five minutes, checks his texts, ten minutes, checks his texts, fifteen minutes, checks his texts. They still haven’t answered. He gets up and starts pacing up and down, not straying far from the chairs and table, not daring to leave, in case Redacted shows up.

He worries and worries. Should he text Izuku? Maybe he knows where Redacted is or what happened to them, if anything did.

Suddenly, the back door to the warehouse is slammed open and a figure drags themselves inside.

Redacted.

And they’re injured.

Mezou rushes to them. They’re limping, holding onto their left arm which is bleeding at the shoulder, but not so much as to make Mezou worry about blood loss just yet. They’re bleeding from the head and from the mouth as well and they’re staring ahead with dull eyes. This is when Mezou first notices they’re not wearing their medical mask and he can see their full face. He makes sure to throw the memory away the second he makes it. Out of respect.

He picks Redacted up and carries them to the table, putting them on it and checking over their wounds more closely, hero mindset fully setting in.

He pulls out the first aid kit he carries on his person at all times, like every member of his class, just in case they encounter anyone in need of it. He starts taking care of their most glaring injuries, starting with the bleeding shoulder. It’s become clear it was grazed by a bullet, but thankfully nothing was stuck in it. It worries Mezou that, when he disinfects it, Redacted doesn’t react at all. Their stare is still dull and endless, like they’re not even there.

“What happened?” Mezou tries gently when he’s done wrapping the shoulder in bandages and moves on to the head wound.

Redacted’s eyes focus on him then and begin to clear up. A growl escapes their lips.

“Occupational hazard. This happens when people don’t like us for our shoes. Safe to say they’ll get fucking banned from interacting with us. Word Of Mouth will make sure they never get what they want from any of us.” They spit angrily, blood coming out of their mouth. It’s from a lost tooth in their mouth.

“Us? And what do you mean this happened cause they didn’t like your shoes?” Mezou grows more confused with every word out of Redacted’s mouth.

“Holy shit, you haven’t figured it out? I thought you fucking knew!” Redacted slaps Mezou’s hand away from cleaning the blood from their head. “You fucker!”

“Knew what? What was I supposed to know?” Mezou tries to continue cleaning the blood, but Redacted slaps his hands away each time he tries.

“Uh, hello? The shoes, the occupation, the sympathy over discrimination, the website!? Ring a bell for anything? Or are you so far up your ass that you can’t tell when you’re talking to a quirkless person?!” Redacted attempts to slap Mezou, but he dodges backwards out of reach.

“Quirkless?”

Mezou is reeling. Redacted is quirkless?

“Why the fuck do you think I’m a fucking information broker, you poor excuse of a- fuck I can’t think of anything, my head.” They grip their head and groan. “Deku said he made you see the site, I thought you could put two and two together!”

“The website? Wait…” Mezou recalls the shady site he watched Izuku use the other day. He had wanted to do more research on it, but he forgot. “What does that website have to do with you being quirkless?”

“Deku trusts you, for whatever fucking reason, enough to show you Word Of Mouth. It’s ridiculous you can’t figure shit out from there.”

“I wanted to look into it, but I got distracted by the case and forgot.” Mezou admits, suddenly feeling very guilty at having disappointed Redacted so.

“Fucking figures.”

“So, what is that website?”

“Fucking might as well, seeing as if I don’t tell you, Deku will. Word Of Mouth is a website by us, for us. Us being quirkless people. It’s how we communicate, via – and this is a pun – word of mouth. It’s exclusive as fuck, can only find it if you speak the code – I will not let you in on how our codes work, fuck that, we speak in codes and riddles with each other for a fucking reason – and you can only get in with an ID. If your ID doesn’t say quirkless, you’re not fucking getting in.”

“What- what else is the website used for?”

“You really can’t extrapolate from incomplete data, can you? Think about it. Quirkless people, exclusive website, you got a quirkless information broker in front of you. There’s a shit ton of uses for it. I use it to get info if I can’t get it through quirked people or other means. If the quirkless excel at one thing, it’s the gathering and sharing of information. We fucking excel at underground work.” Then they grow strangely quiet for a minute, before continuing, “I mean, those of us that don’t use the website to organize… bigger pity parties… fuck, it makes me sick sometimes, but it’s fucking important.”

As Mezou listens to Redacted explain, a detail they mentioned before pops up in his head.

“You said you can only get into the website if you’re quirkless. Are there any exceptions?”

Redacted raises a brow.

“No? It’s exclusively for the quirkless for a reason. Ever heard of a safe space? You don’t let people in that don’t belong in a safe space. Doesn’t matter how hard anyone vouches for you, we don’t trust with that.”

“But then… How does Deku have access?”

Redacted grins.

“How the fuck do you think.”

Mezou’s eyes widen, understanding.

“But he- he has a quirk?”

Redacted shrugs. “Not a fucking clue where he got it, lucky bastard. But you don’t just get the quirkless stamp on your ID with a lack of a quirk materialising by the time you’re eight. You’re diagnosed,” they growl, “Like it’s a fucking disability. And then, and only then does that fucking label get slapped onto your ID. Anything else and your ID would show N/A.”

“Birds of a feather flock together…,” Mezou remembers out loud, causing Redacted to grin.

“So you do remember, eh? Haaaaa, isn’t this hilarious. Deku said you’d be accepting, but he didn’t want to be the one to literally spell it out to you. Guess I took up that job, eh? Fuuuuck, why do I gotta be the bearer of bad news?”

“Bad news?” Mezou echoes.

“Uh, yeah? Getting outed doesn’t tend to bode well for us.” Redacted gestures to themselves. “This shit tends to happen. Which, by the way, if you try anything, I have explosives around this place. I have no qualms doing my own party here and dragging you to it with me.”

“Why would- no, I mean, I understand why you’re cautious… I don’t… People don’t exactly react well to me either, usually. From what I can tell, it’s nowhere near as bad as for you… but I know what it’s like to be cautious with this type of thing… If it means anything to you, I don’t think badly of you for being quirkless. I don’t care whether you or anyone has a quirk or not. I… Katsuki informed us all about the… the statistics… I think I know, at least on the surface, what you and other quirkless people have gone through and still go through. I don’t know how much my word means to you, but, if ever you find yourself in need of a hero, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Redacted’s glare softens and they look down. Mezou comes closer, slowly, to continue taking care of their wounds. Redacted lets them. It’s a step towards trust.

They’re both silent for a while, Mezou concentrating on cleaning up blood and treating injuries, grateful to Recovery Girl for teaching the class how to treat each other on the field, upon their insistance. He smiles fondly under his mask, remembering that week, his classmates, his second family.

Knowing Izuku used to be quirkless is… strange to take in. It explains a few things about him, certainly his earlier behaviour, even more so his most recent.

“I’ll continue business with you.” Redacted interrupts the silence, making Mezou look up in confusion.

“Business?”

“You’re not… reacting how I feared you may. You understand some of what we go through. Fuck it, what I’m trying to say is that Deku wasn’t wrong about you, or about trusting you. I can trust you. I think I will.” They gently push Mezou’s hands away and get up, a bit wobbly, but otherwise not in danger of falling over and injuring themselves further. “Consider this the start of our cooperation. I look forward to working with you. And I’ll spread the word.” They take one of Mezou’s hand and shake it, before quickly walking out of the building, but not before shouting back, “You know how to contact me. If you can’t, for whatever reason, ask Deku!”

And they’re gone.

Dazed, Mezou packs up his things.

What a way to celebrate.

He leaves the warehouse shortly thereafter, heading home, to the dorms.

The journey there is a blur, he passes by people, animals, without registering them. He barely notices a car honking as it rushes by him. He barely notices a group of sneering teenagers call out insults at him from the other side of the street.

He gets home to the dorms and only then does his mind reunite with his body. He’s sitting on the sofa in his hero costume. He’s surprisingly, the first one back. Or, at least, no one else who may have already returned is in the common room, but that’s unlikely.

He’s holding onto his phone, not sure when he pulled it out. It’s the post about the website Word Of Mouth. But the comment section.

r/InternetMysteries posted by u/wormofmyheart

What is this website? “Word Of Mouth” no way to access it

Hey, guys. Not sure if this fits here, but I don’t know where else to put it. So I got this friend, and he’s on his phone a lot. I’ve seen him use this website called Word Of Mouth, but no matter where I look and what browsers I use, I can’t find it. He won’t tell me what it is, but I wanna make sure it’s not some weird brainwashing cult thing… Anyone know what the site is about and how I can access it? I really just wanna check it out, make sure it’s not dangerous.

Comments 7 Share

u/potatowar
its not a site for you if youre not on it. Rest assured, your friend has found his people on it

u/markedforfailure
my friend is on the same site. She told me she found people like her on it, and ive never seen her happier, so I guess its not the worst

u/thekeyisbeingquirkless
yz gfe nef juul krtw, qgk uzv yyi gx km. ld wp jgj jbm csyo lg jbqj gpfkajy. qw izy fwux pvva, jgj qhgkrtry, qeo ezvw jaft cb yoci. qgk qqcv qmfv vlqvxow. qgk qqcv qmfv fywgvp aadbcvx dz ggeccb ky l tsjjs ezds cgm. yz gfe osfl ahwn gsel lxub dolrk, qeo ezvw pwshh, jld osfl siudse xg gdy qw izy vgdn. ev kci zwhy nfb jsm.

Mezou stares at the comment of seemingly random letters. He wonders if that’s one of the codes Redacted mentioned.

He hears footsteps approaching the common room and recognizes them immediately as Izuku’s. He looks up just in time to see Izuku walking in, holding his phone and looking at it, his eyes glazed over with unshed tears, but a grin on his face betraying the true meaning behind the tears.

Izuku looks up and sees Mezou, his grin widening, beaming.

“So you know…” Izuku starts.

Mezou nods, surprised and confused, his mind still a bit too fuzzy to process much.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, nor most of the others…”

“Who else knows?” Mezou finds himself asking. “About your… well…”

“Kacchan knows. And Ochaco and Denki. I’m pretty sure Kyoka knows as well, but she hasn’t confronted me about it yet. And now… now you do as well.”

“How…” Mezou’s throat feels dry. “Did Redacted tell you?” He motions to the phone still on in Izuku’s hands.

Izuku shakes his head. “No. Or at least not directly. They… I’ll show you.”

And he goes to sit down next to Mezou and shows him the phone. On it, Mezou sees a post on Word Of Mouth.

Community Confirmation, Approved.

Post by [REDACTED]
I have good news for our lot today. The hero Tentacole is confirmed an ally. I know I voiced my concerns when DEKU posted that he believes his entire class can be trusted as a whole not to plan our parties for us, so to speak, but I’m glad to be able to confirm it for one more of them. That makes four future heroes, as of now, that will not treat us like the dirt beneath their shoes but will rather help us, do business with us, not look away.

I have personally conducted business with Tentacole. He is, if a bit cautious due to having faced mutant based discrimination, kind and caring. What inspired me to come to this decision is the following:
I was outed to a potential costumer and subsequently enjoyed being put into my place. The injuries I sustained were mild compared to what we’re used to. I had a meeting scheduled with Tentacole shortly thereafter, but due to the injuries I sustained, I was not there on time and could not treat my injuries at all. I was surprised to find Tentacole waiting for me still, I was a little over an hour late. Moreso was I surprised when his immediate reaction was to treat my wounds. As a sort of test, and partially because I was VERY out of it, I outed myself. To my infinite surprise, he did not stop treating my wounds, he did not react negatively at all. Upon our conversation, he put two and two together about DEKU’s former quirklessness, and despite being confused and surprised, he did not exhibit any ill feelings toward our favourite lucky bastard. DEKU sure knows how to pick them, I mean that honestly. I am convinced now that DEKU’s judgment on possible allies can be trusted wholeheartedly, and I encourage anyone in need of a hero to seek his proposed allies out, not only the confirmed ones.

To remind anyone or for those who may have missed the previous announcements, the allies proposed by DEKU and confirmed by the community are:
Dynamight, Bakugou Katsuki
Uravity, Uraraka Ochaco
Chargebolt, Kaminari Denki
Tentacole, Shouji Mezou
oComment oMessage

Mezou blinks. Then blinks again. Oh, that’s tears in his eyes.

He rubs them away and looks at Izuku, who beams at him with the power of the sun.

“Thank you, Izuku.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For trusting me. I know it couldn’t be easy to trust anyone with that. Not with how I’m sure people have reacted in the past.” He thinks back on the injuries Redacted sustained.

Izuku smiles sadly. “I’m lucky, really. To have been given a quirk, yes, but I’m also lucky to have all of you. I’m sure I can trust all of you not to react badly. I’m sure of it.” He speaks in such awe inspiring confidence that Mezou would believe him everything he told him.

“Do you… do you ever… wait…” Mezou tries to find the right words. “Did the quirkless community react badly when you… were ‘given’ your quirk?” He still doesn’t know what that means, precisely, but he’s willing to put that particular question on the backburner.

“They were confused, surprised, if anything. Only a few reacted negatively, the older ones, really, who grew bitter. Everyone else supported me entirely. I’m still one of them. Part of me will forever be quirkless, will forever relate to their struggles and problems. I can’t afford to lose that, or to lose sight of it. I don’t want to become…” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to become All Might.”

Now this surprises Mezou more than anything he heard that day. “What? I thought you idolize him? And what does All Might have to do with this?”

“I used to, and I still respect him deeply, but… The quirk I got… I got it from him. And he got it from his mentor and so on. I’ll tell you more in detail after this, but… Before All Might was given his quirk, he was also quirkless. But you’d never suspect he was, not from how he distanced himself. He doesn’t know their struggles, hasn’t even glanced at his account on Word Of Mouth since he got his quirk… I… I don’t want that. I can’t become that.” Tears start to slide over his cheeks. Mezou can’t stop his hands from brushing them away. He can’t stop himself from taking Izuku into his arms and holding on tight.

He always felt a certain danger from Izuku, something about him screamed dangerous to his senses. In the past two school years, he learned to feel protected by that danger. Now, though, now he sees how brittle and fragile it can be. Izuku’s power, and he doesn’t mean the quirk, is awesome, his influence is undeniable and strong. He broke down Shouto’s defenses and high built walls in only a few sentences. But he is also this. A boy with a dream that’s been shattered and glued together multiple times, and a body to match it visually exactly.

Mezou wants to hold him tight, keep his pieces together and bask in Izuku’s danger that protects him and everyone else whom Izuku holds dear. But most importantly, he wants to protect Izuku and his community. Mezou can tell just how much Izuku cares about the Quirkless. Mezou will take care to protect and help them, as much as Izuku has taken care to protect everyone in need whom he comes across, as much as he protects the class, who are his family.

Later, after Izuku has calmed down and dried his tears, he explains to Mezou the mystery of his quirk, the mystery that is One For All. And Mezou thanks him again for his trust and holds him tight again.

That’s how the others find them when they come back home, cuddling on the sofa, Izuku shedding more tears. It’s far from an unusual sight.

When Izuku tells them about Mezou’s success (which he really owes entirely to Redacted, but they didn’t want anyone to know that) the class insisted on celebrating. And they did, well into the night.

And as Mezou is finally lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a smile on his face, he can’t help but feel glad to know Izuku. And now he really, fully knows him, and he is glad and grateful Izuku trusted him with his secret. And it is a huge one. Especially the connection to All For One. But Mezou is confident. If anyone can come out victorious of a two hundred year old fight, it would be Izuku. And if Mezou vowed to fight alongside him, without regret nor hesitation? Well, he’s surely not the only one who has, or will promise that.

Because it’s class A.

Always because it’s class A.