A Wallflower's Thorns

8. Bruised

He needs to tell someone. He knows that like he does any other universal law. Light takes seven minutes to reach Earth, matter can’t be created or destroyed, and he needs to tell someone he found the base of the League of villains. Thing is, Izuku doesn’t have any complicated equation or list of instructions to tell him how to do it. What he does have is his notebook detailing exactly what he’s been getting up to, and oh boy is that going to be hard to explain. He can see it in his head: “Oh, I got all that information by walking around dark alleys and eavesdropping. By the way, I found the lair by almost falling into a dumpster.”

Yeah, he’d prefer not to explain. Not only would his mom ground him for life, he could get into real trouble with UA. The staff finding out he messes with villains in his spare time isn’t going to put him in their good books, that’s for sure.

He doesn’t have to tell someone right away, does he? He wasn’t seen...and he didn’t leave any indication he was there...he has time, right? It doesn’t matter, the thought of delaying this any more than he has sits wrong with him. Besides, he’ll only cause more questions withholding this any longer than he has. Knowing his luck, it would probably turn him into a suspect.

The entirety of this internal debate occurs as he’s eating imitation brand cereal with a pink plastic spoon. It’s been two days since he booked it the hell out of that alley, and while he’s resolved to tell someone, that creates a new question: who the hell would believe him? He’s a first year high school student with social anxiety and a growing tendency to break his bones like they’re kit-kats.

All Might? No, Izuku wouldn’t be able to withstand the disappointment that would follow the man’s surprise. Gran Torino? Double no, the retired hero would hit him over the head and then complain to All Might about “suicidal students that don’t know when they’re in over their heads”. He sighs and hangs his head, spoon drooping in hand. He stays like that until the electricity of an epiphany jolts through him.

The day after the USJ, there was a man in Recovery Girl’’s office, a man All Might knew for years. What was his name? Naomana? Maka? No, it was Naomasa, Tsukauchi Naomasa. He’s a policeman. It wouldn’t be hard for Izuku to drop in an anonymous tip, especially with notice-me-not. His plan, having existed for only half a minute, is nearly foolproof — Nearly, the police department will have security cameras, there’s no doubting that. The robots in the entrance exam could see him, even with notice-me-not up, it stands to reason that any recording of him would wipe away his Quirk and leave evidence that he was there.

The problem lasts for all of a minute before he gets another epiphany — only this one is because of Han. The cat’s playing with one of the potted plants mom leaves near the kitchen window. the edge of one of the leaves covers Han’s face from view. Izuku’s seen him do this a thousand times — and that’s a weak estimate — in the past few months. It’s only in this context that Izuku can see his cat’s genius.

“I’m starting to think you have human intelligence.” He tells his cat, putting his spoon down and placing his bowl in the dishwasher. Han meows when Izuku reaches over to pluck him up and away from the plant, but settles in his arms with nothing more than a brief growl.

Izuku opens his room and sets Han loose on his pillow covers. The cat takes a running start and leaps onto his bed, kneading the pillow with his claws out. Izuku shakes his head and throws open his closet. “I know I still have it.” He mutters, rifling through the clothes until he finds a box near the far end. On it, marked in large black sharpie, reads “halloween costumes”.