Can We Be Heroes?

Chapter 38• Breathless Truths Under the Bridge

The courtyard was swarming now as the police, some pro heroes are a few reporters made their way inside. The chaos hadn’t even fully settled, but the authorities were already flooding in—shouting orders, taping off the area, checking injuries, and interviewing stunned students.

The flaming scorch marks hadn’t even cooled yet and Izuku Midoriya stood right in the center of it all, shaking, gasping, and spiraling. His throat still ached where the gravity quirk had crushed it. But the tightness around his chest—that wasn’t from the attack.

It was from the words. There was no misinterpreting it. They were hunting him. His secret. His double life. The one thing he had buried so deeply even Monoma didn’t know—

And now villains were saying his name out loud in a school courtyard. "Bounty..."

His breath hitched. "Law firm... They know. How do they know?"

His mind spun. His vision blurred. Panic clawed up his throat as he thought about his mom. What would happen when she found out? Would they take him away? Would they come for her next?

His knees buckled slightly, and Monoma noticed immediately.

“Midoriya!”

The real blonde rushed to his side, his injured arm trembling as he reached out. “Hey, breathe. It’s over now, alright? You’re safe—”

SLAP.

Izuku smacked his hand away, eyes wide with fear. “I— I can’t— I have to go—” he stammered, voice raw, panic overtaking reason as he bolted.

“Izuku!” Monoma yelled after him,the exclamation causing a few nearby officers turned.

“Hey! That one—he’s a witness! He’s not supposed to leave the scene!” Two moved to intercept but Izuku wasn’t just running.

He was maneuvering.

Feet skimming across the pavement with practiced fluidity. Sidestepping, ducking low, using broken tables and benches as cover. Moving too precisely, too fast.

One officer reached out but missed. Another tried to cut him off and Izuku easily rolled under a rail and vanished through the side gates.

Gone.

From the far side of the courtyard, Eraserhead stood silently with arms crossed. His scarf hung loose, and his tired eyes tracked the fleeing boy.

“Strange…” he muttered.

Present Mic turned toward him. “You alright, Aizawa?”

Aizawa didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered where Midoriya had just been, brows narrowing.

“…Strange footwork,” he finally said. “That wasn’t just a kid panicking. That was someone with combat awareness.”

He glanced sideways. “You ever hear of a middle schooler with that kind of movement?”

Mic blinked. “…Not unless they’ve had training.”

Aizawa's eyes darkened.

“Exactly.”

Meanwhile, Monoma stood frozen in the center of the mess, clutching his arm, heart pounding as he stared after the direction Izuku had vanished.

What the hell was that?

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Izuku didn’t know how long or just how far he had been running but he didn't care. His feet carried him instinctively, like muscle memory had taken over where thought had shut down. The sounds of sirens faded behind him. The crowd, the police, the pro heroes—gone.