The Unwilling Traitor

Chapter Sixteen - I Am Not Who I Say I Am

It's only been two hours since he's woken up, but Izuku could already tell today wasn't going all that well for him. It's the middle of homeroom, and the class is just buzzing about the upcoming Sports Festival. Overflowing with chatter, Izuku covered his ears in a measly attempt to drown out the noise. He didn't sleep much last night due to the wonderful conversation he had has with his dad at 2:00 am. Izuku just wanted to sleep. 

"Dude, you gonna pass out over there?" Said a familiar sparky guy. Kaminari was jabbing him with a pencil. Izuku's mental health was depleting due to the amount of stress and insomnia put on him, and he doubts that this is helping his case. 

"No, I'm fine - stop poking me!" Izuku reeled back just in time to avoid a pencil in his ear. "Goodness, Kaminari that hurts!"

"Well excuse me Sleeping Beauty," Kaminari grinned, "Just thought I'd help you out. You don't wanna fall asleep when Mr. Aizawa comes in, do you?" 

"You speak from personal experience." Izuku looked at the blond with tired eyes.

"Oooh, I can hear his skin sizzling Midoriya!" Sero piped up from the back of the room, where he was speaking with Mina. 

"Below the belt, dude. Below the belt." Kaminari put on a look of fake sorrow and stalked back to his chair. 

The shenanigan almost made Midoriya laugh. When was the last time he had done so? Yesterday? Or a year ago. God, he can't remember. Izuku feels so empty inside. It's as if his body isn't his, but a vessel for his dad to control. It hits him every night that he is betraying everyone he holds dear. His classmates, his teachers, All Might, but most importantly, his mom. How would she react if she knew her husband was like this? How her son was helping this all play out? Izuku shook his head. 

'That's why we won't let them find out.' He thought. Izuku accepts the fact that he is nothing but a pawn to be thrown away when done with, but as long as he has information, it brings a sense of comfort to him. He knows that if he dares speak about this to anyone, his dad will detonate the device inside of him, but does that really matter? 

As far as Izuku knows, his dad can only hear him, not see him. So if he is careful about this, he could write the information down, and give it to a pro hero. Izuku doesn't care about the consequences, he just wants those dear to him to be safe. He knows that his dad could hear the sound of him writing, but if he does, he won't kill him then, since he didn't share information yet. 

Maybe a stern warning would be all that he got. Izuku had all this planned out in his head, every scenario sketched to the tiniest detail, or as much as he could do. He knows his dad needs him, and he will use that to his advantage. 

And yet Izuku still worries. Who wouldn't in this situation? No matter how much he plans, there will always be a situation he overlooks. One tiny detail that will send him to a whole new place than what he wanted. He was scared, but there's nothing he can do about that. He will save everyone, because that's what heroes do, right?

The school day is over before Izuku can realize it, and he goes to his room. As his dad is foolishly spilling information that a normal person wouldn't pick up on as anywhere near important, Izuku writes it all down. Pronouns like 'he' and 'she' give him a vague idea of how many people there are that he's dealing with. How many people are in the League. Hints like dates slip from his father's mouth like oil spill onto the pages in Izuku's notebook. People, places, things, ideas. They all form a story in the little notebook. Izuku just keeps eating the information, jotting it down in little sentences between the thin lines of the paper. He has no idea what he is writing, but he knows it's important. He can make sense of it later. 

Words upon words fill the pages in utter nonsense to everyone but the writer. Seasons, quirks, initials. All scribbled down. He's on his third page now. The third page of utter nonsense, but somehow, it all makes sense. Izuku writes for an hour, eyes glued to the little white piece of paper in front of him. He had no idea what he was doing, and yet, he did. For all he knew, he just wrote down plans to kill All Might. He spends another two hours trying to make sense of what he just wrote, but many conclusions are made. Many perspectives are being looked at. And many sides of the story are still left blank on that little piece of parchment.