The moonlight cast eerie shadows in the office that Izuku occupied on the second floor of the police department. The hour was late, near midnight, and the usual hum of activity had subsided leaving only a few officers on duty. Izuku preferred it this way, the quieter the better. He had just returned from an operation and now sat at his desk, illuminated by the harsh glow of the overhead lights.
Gone were the soft features and youthful innocence, replaced instead by a sharp, angular jawline and a hardness in his eyes. His once short and spiky hair was now long, black, and pulled back into a tight ponytail. Tattoos snaked up his arms and across his neck, visible even beneath his black button-up shirt. Scars, old and new, crisscrossed his face, a testament to the dangerous life he had chosen.
Izuku's broad shoulders filled the room, a stark contrast to the slim, boyish figure he once had. His hands, once delicate and soft, were now calloused and rough from years of handling weapons and physical training. He had been gone for two years, and in that time, he had changed drastically.
He was no longer the same Izuku who had left, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He was colder now, sharper, more focused. The job had hardened him and moulded him into the perfect weapon. He had seen things, and done things, that no one should ever have to. But it was necessary, he told himself. It was all for the greater good.
As he sat at his desk, typing out reports and filling out paperwork, he couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the world around him. He had become so used to the violence and death, that it no longer affected him - and, sitting here on this chair, made him itch to go out for a fight, for a mission - anything to see action, to feel action. He had become desensitized to it all. The only thing that mattered now was the mission, and he would stop at nothing to complete it.
The only light in the office came from the moon, shining through the window and casting a pale glow on the floor. The rest of the building was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the clacking of Izuku's keys as he typed. He continued to work, lost in thought, until the early hours of the morning.
He had become a different person, someone he no longer recognized. But he couldn't deny that the change had been necessary. He was stronger now, more capable. He could handle anything that was thrown his way. And that was all that mattered.
Sometimes he wished it scared him, to be this different. Sometimes, he wondered what it would've been like had he stayed with the Bakugo's after he collapsed at their door - but as he sighed and leaned back in his chair, he knew he'd never know.
Not that he wanted to.
As the sun began to rise, Izuku finally finished his work and stood up to leave. He took one last look around the office, the shadows and moonlight casting long shadows on the walls, and turned off the light. He walked out the door, ready to face whatever the day had in store for him.
_______________________________________________________________________________
The air was thick with tension as Izuku and the SWAT team huddled around the battered van, its windows obscured by grime and the early morning sun. This wasn't just any operation; it was a significant raid against one of the most dangerous gang organizations in the city, the Iron Fangs, and they were loaded for bear. Izuku's heart raced, but he kept his pulse steady and calm. The chaos of battle was familiar; it was a rhythm he had once danced to with innocence, but now he moved with a predatory instinct.
"Alright, listen up," barked their team leader, a seasoned vet with a deep voice that cut through the stillness. "We hit hard and fast. Watch each other's backs. No one gets left behind."
The team of six men and women nodded, adjusting their gear, double-checking their weapons. Sam, one of the most charismatic members of the team, caught Izuku's eye. His sandy blonde hair glimmered with beads of sweat under the heavy tactical helmet, and even in this grim situation, Izuku felt the familiar tug of attraction. Sam's blue eyes sparkled with determination and a hint of mischief. Izuku offered a lazy smirk; a momentary flirtation that could easily be overlooked by the threat ahead.

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Detective Midoriya
FanfictionLeaving due to his mother's abuse, Izuku leaves to America and comes back after two years due to All-Might falling ill and Japan's crime rate going up. But as he steps through the common doors, the room that was once filled with hushed whispering an...