Work Text:
It was dark.
The lights in the alley were broken from the usual neglect, and if you squinted just enough, you would be able to see the vague outline of someone very small crouched in front of three much bigger people. And if you got close, you could make out how the three were tied up—arms twisted behind their backs with zip-tie precision—and this smaller person was excitedly talking to them.
“…and that’s when I realized you were using a cheap lockpick set—seriously, you can get way better ones for only like 1,500 yen more, they’re sturdier and don’t snap under pressure, which by the way is how I knew you weren’t pros because no self-respecting burglar uses those flimsy things—oh! Also good job trying to flank me, that was smart! Didn’t work, but smart!”
The three grown men, battered and scowling, exchanged a look that teetered between fear and confusion. The kid couldn’t have been older than fourteen. He had messy green curls, a dark hoodie, patched gloves, and a bright orange mask that looked hand-painted. And he talked. And talked. And talked.
“—so anyway, once I saw your footwork I could tell you weren’t trained fighters, so I adjusted my baseline—uh, sorry! My ‘Baseline’ is my combat starting point, that’s why it’s my name—cool, right? No? I think it’s cool.”
One of the criminals groaned. “Kid, please. Just—just let us go.”
Izuku gasped. “Let you go? After you tried to mug that old guy? And after you tried to stab me?!” He leaned forward with way too much enthusiasm. “Also, that was a terrible stabbing attempt. You telegraphed the entire thing with your shoulder—seriously, I could give you notes.”
“NO NOTES!” all three men shouted at once.
Izuku blinked. “Oh. Okay! Suit yourselves.”
A distant sound echoed down the alley—boots, several pairs, synchronized and getting closer.
Izuku whipped his head toward the entrance. “Oooh. That’s my cue.” He scrambled up from his crouch, tugging his mask more securely into place. “Okay! Listen! So the police are gonna be here any second, and um—don’t panic? They’ll probably be nicer than you expect. Except that one officer with the really stern eyebrows, but he’s only like that because he cares—”
Red and blue lights splashed across the alley as several officers rushed in, Eraserhead at the front with his capture scarf floating behind him like a shadow on a wind.
“Baseline,” Aizawa said flatly, because of course he already knew this kid’s name. “Again?”
Izuku yelped, practically hopping backward. “Ah! Hero Eraserhead! Fancy seeing you here! Totally coincidence. Yup. Definitely not waiting for you on purpose or anything.”
Aizawa’s expression didn’t change. “You sent me three anonymous tips in the last ten minutes.”
Izuku went crimson beneath the mask. “T-That could’ve been anyone.”
“Uh-huh.” Aizawa walked past him, checking the criminals’ restraints. “They’re secure.” He glanced up at the kid. “Good work.”
Izuku beamed so hard his mask shifted up his face. “R-Really?!”
“You still shouldn’t be doing this,” Aizawa added.
And there it was. The usual lecture starter.
Izuku held up his hands, backing away toward the fire escape. “Yep! Totally hear you! Loud and clear! Shouldn’t be doing this—dangerous—illegal—endangering myself—very wise words—all valid points!”
He reached the ladder.
“So I’m gonna go now!”
Aizawa sighed. “Baseline—”
But Izuku was already climbing, fast as a feral alley cat, waving with one hand. “Thanksforthecomplimentgoodluckbye!!”
By the time the officers finished securing the tied-up criminals, Baseline was already perched on the rooftop, wind ruffling his hair, grin stretching ear to ear.
“That was awesome,” he whispered to himself. “Okay, okay—next patrol area… maybe the south side. I heard rumors about a black-market quirk tech drop tonight.”
He sprinted across the rooftops, small, quirkless, unstoppable.
Baseline.