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In the past half a year Musutafu’s main news channel was hacked on multiple instances. Each time measures were taken, and security heightened.
That didn't stop the mysterious hacker though.
Each time it started with a black screen and horrified screams, and then the camera would pan to a terrified teenager.
Police were on it, trying to connect the incidents to one another. They did get some useful info, though.
All the teens were from the same neighbourhood, or used to live there once.
Most of them had attended Aldera Junior High School. Two were only connected though the General Kindergarten they had attended years ago together.
Some of these teens had moved away to other cities, but each time, the broadcast took place in Musutafu.
In a different part of town, so unpredictable it couldn’t be tracked.
But whenever a broadcast ended, the location would be revealed.
The camera would pan to a known landmark, a window view, or even a street name.
So when the police — and later, when they understood this to be a serious matter, the heroes as well — would rush to the scene, they would find only a lone teenager, tied to a chair. Fearful, and teary faced, but relatively unharmed. In some cases more than others.
There were never any traces of the attacker, and cameras in the area never proved useful. This kidnapper was thorough — no fingerprints left, and no traces on the victim either.
You’d think that punching or kicking a person would leave a trace. Or at least the act of bounding their hands behind their backs. But there was nothing. Not even a single hair dropped.
Not that it was a big mystery who the attacker was. Despite never appearing on camera, all the victims saw his face. And even if they didn’t, it wouldn't take too long to figure out that he was the only thing connecting them all.
Izuku Midoriya. A quirkless kid, that each one of them bullied at one point in their lives. A kid that was supposed to be dead.
Almost every Saturday night there was a broadcast. Some time in the late evening, when the families were curled up on the couch together, catching up after a long week.
From behind the camera he would speak every time, with this voice full of confidence.
As if he knew the police could never catch him.
Slowly, he would reveal bit by bit everything about his current victim.
Their fears, every wrong doing they ever made, and a very in depth analysis of their weaknesses.
The police speculated he had been planning this for a while, perhaps even before his disappearance and presumed death. And from the videos they had concurred his plan was leading to a great finale. A big reveal he had mentioned a few times throughout the broadcasts.
When interviewed, the victims couldn’t guess what it could be.
———
After yet another broadcast, Bakugo couldn’t take it any more. He was at UA now, but it didn’t change much. The past remained the same. He was still the same person as in middle school, despite what his counsellor might have told him.
To De– him, Bakugo was still the same.
When the video cut, and went back to the news channel, that now switched to talking about the new incident, he went straight to Mr. Aizawa. Perhaps it would be more wise to go to the police in this situation, but he wasn’t really thinking. And it was during school hours, after all. Having just witnessed his old lackey's long fingers get cut off on live television. Bakugo's fingers curles into fists, as he marched to the teachers lounge.
Despite the uneasiness, he watched every time. And when he missed it, he looked for recordings. Not because he was sadistic or anything. But because he thought he’d be the best person to look for clues in the videos. That bastard never showed himself, but having known each other since birth, Bakugo was sure one of these times Izuku would slip up.
Bakugo exhaled, trying to think of what he’d say to Mr. Aizawa. The first step would be admitting that he lied.
The police interviewed him once. Right when the broadcasts started. He denied any connections. Terrified, after not hearing about him for what — over a year?
Despite knowing they went through daycare to middle school together, the police interviewer didn’t press. Bakugo was just starting to believe what his parents tried to tell him — Izuku Midoriya was dead.
Now everything shattered.
Izuku was alive, and slowly taking revenge. One bully at a time.
Bakugo could be next.
Not that he was too scared of that. If you think about it, he probably was the one most deserving of it. After all, most of the time it was him who incited the bullying.
But there was something wrong, just wrong. Bakugo couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but he knew one thing:
Izuku needed help.
———
Izuku didn’t know what to do with himself. He sat in his little hideout, obsessively rewatching his own videos. Some people remained exactly the same childish bullies they were.
Some couldn't realize there was something wrong with what they did.
And some just forgot him. That probably made Izuku the most mad. He clenched his fists, eyes glued to the screen. This girl bullied him all throughout elementary school, until she moved away. Almost up to par with Bakugo. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as the camera panned to her. She cried and cried, saying none of these things were true.
It’s true she never did anything physical, her quirk being entirely useless. But that didn’t stop her from calling him every name under the sun and making sure to exclude him every chance she got. It made Izuku snicker now. How she tormented him without end, when she was almost no better than quirkless herself.
Just this small ‘almost’.
One thing that separated him, isolating him from everyone, forever.
He almost passed the U.A entrance exam, almost. And he did so without a quirk!
He almost repaid his mum for all these years, taking odd jobs here and there.
He was almost done with his plan. Only a few more people left to track.
He was almost a villain.
Almost.
This couldn’t be counted as villainy per definition. And even if it could, Izuku wouldn’t look at it that way.
He wasn’t doing anything villainous. He was merely showing to the public the true nature of his old tormentors. Bringing their worst fears before them. Broadcasting their wrongdoings. Making sure they would never be able to freely show themselves outside.
It almost made him feel bad though.
Almost.