Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“We’ll find out what happened to Izuku.”

Katsuki doesn’t want to think about it.

He really, really doesn’t. Why should he care about this? He doesn’t care about that damned nerd, he shouldn’t be affected by this. What right would he have to be worried, anyway? It's not like he and Deku were friends.

Just because their mothers have been best fucking friends since college or whatever didn’t mean that they had to be the same way, too. Sure, Deku has never stopped nipping at his heels with that stupid look on his face ever since they were snot-nosed little brats, but that didn’t mean Katsuki was obligated to care about him. 

However, the fact that both he and his mother had up and disappeared sort of left a sinking pit of a feeling within Katsuki that he did not want to confront at all, and so he doesn’t.

Instead of making himself sick with worry like his parents had so pathetically been doing, Katsuki kept to himself and focused on not going insane from the freak storms that had decided to stick around all last week. Thankfully, they all seemed to have come to an end last night, as it had been overly sunny since the sun had risen; which meant that he could finally practice outside with his quirk again.

“Your quirk’s so cool, Kacchan!”

He does not care about shitty fucking Deku. Shitty fucking Deku, who’s always looking down on Katsuki. He saw past his stupid facade. Deku is an eyesore, so what if he went missing? They were probably fine anyways, it's not like anything had actually happened.

He does not feel sick to his stomach. As Katsuki lets off a controlled string of explosions from his palms in the backyard, he pointedly ignores the way his guts flip at the thought of everything.

Missing.

They weren’t actually fucking missing, right? That wasn’t… That didn’t even make sense to Katsuki’s brain. It doesn’t feel like it could be real, so it wasn’t. He refused to believe it was even a possibility.

Of course Deku and his mom would grow sick of him and his family. Deku had finally owned up to his mother about how they weren’t actually friends anymore, and the family of two had simply decided to move onto greener pastures. Somewhere they wouldn’t have to put up with explosive blonds and pretend relationships. The whole “birthday trip” was just a lie they came up with for his mother so that she couldn’t try and stop them from leaving. That made way more sense than the two of them going missing.

But the longer he spent outside training with his quirk, the more agitated he grew. It had been hours since his parents had left for the police station and they still hadn’t come back! They had left just before noon, and it was almost five o’clock in the evening now!

‘What the fuck gives?’ Katsuki thinks as a growl rips from his throat, his palms crackling and blasting into the late evening sky. Their neighbors were probably going to start complaining about the noise soon if he kept this up. But he just can’t stop himself.

And then he can hear the sound of his parents getting back over the faint ringing in his ears from the use of his quirk. The familiar cadence of doors slamming and the distant honking from the car being locked reaches the backyard, and a jolt of adrenaline shoots through his body.

‘Calm the fuck down,’ he tells himself as he walks over to the patio to grab one of his towels to wipe off the excess sweat from his body. Through the large glass doors that connect to the kitchen of his house, he can see the front door opening and watches as his mother is led into the house by his father, and suddenly everything stops in his brain.

Because it looks like his mother was full-on sobbing, and Katsuki’s mind stops as if he’s short-circuited.

‘What the fuck…’

With slight hesitation, Katsuki slides open the outside door and steps into the kitchen; he can properly hear his mother now, and he could feel his heart pounding at the sound of her crying. “What's going on?” He asks, his voice rough from all of his earlier grumbling, and as soon as the words escape him his mother jumps as if she didn’t even realize he had entered the house. She pulls her head out of her hands and blood-shot eyes meet his, and he swallows involuntarily. She even looks a little pale.

“Oh, Katsuki,” she says, crossing the entire length of the house as her breath hitches with another sob, and as soon as she reaches him her arms are thrown around him, clutching onto him like a lifeline, and Katsuki freezes on the spot, eyes blown wide.

“W-What the hell?!” He embarrassingly squeaks out, voice cracking as his arms float awkwardly around his mother, stunned— because they did not do whatever this was.

Katsuki is not a touchy-feely person, he never has been. There's something about casual physical contact that gets on his nerves and makes his skin crawl, and his mother knows this, and yet here she was, clinging to him as if she’d never be able to hold him ever again. On instinct he tries to pull her off, but in response she only holds him tighter, and he can’t help but feel a little afraid.

“What is going on?” He asks, looking to his father for some kind of answer, his mothers head pressing firmly into the side of his neck getting his shirt covered in tears, and he hates it. His father just watches, his mouth slightly agape in a harrowed expression, and his eyes seem watery too, which was less surprising— his father was kind of an easy crier, similar to Deku and his mom in that way.

“Katsuki…” his father says, looking lost, which stirs up a feeling of trepidation in his chest. Sure, his father sometimes had a bit of a hard time getting things across when he was flustered, but for him to get to the point where he was at a complete loss for words was rare— and that made it unsettling. Just what the hell had happened at the police station?

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Katsuki,” his mother finally says, pushing away from him even though she looks as if she’d rather die than let him go. She takes a moment to collect herself, as fruitless of an attempt that it is, and meets his eyes; lips wobbling. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard his mother apologize to him before like this. He’s sure that his own expression must look strange, too.

“What’s gotten into you? W-What happened?” He asks, his eyes narrowing in confused suspicion.

But she can’t seem to form the words. Her mouth opens and closes several times, and with each breath she sniffles until she eventually hicks on another sob, burying her face into her hands again, and then his father steps forward, pulling her away from Katsuki and into his arms, rubbing her back gently. “I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him…” he says to her softly, and Katsuki can feel that pit in his stomach yawn wider.

He silently watches as his dad leads his mom down the hall and into their bedroom, sparing Katsuki a sorrowful expression as he tells him to wait for a moment. Katsuki just nods, feeling numb, and decides to go into the living room to sit down and to hopefully get a handle on his stupidly beating heart as it was seriously getting on his already high-strung nerves.

Aching for something to do with his hands, Katsuki pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks his messages. On instinct he taps on his most recent contact even though he knows that there won't be a response waiting for him.

“Where the hell did you go?” Reads his last message sent to Deku back on Wednesday, and the asshole had never even opened it. He supposes it isn’t that surprising, because they weren’t friends; but it was still a little unnerving. They did not text each other unless absolutely necessary, and Katsuki certainly never texted Deku first unless the hag had specifically told him to for some reason— but even so, when they did— that nerd always replied back to his messages almost instantly. So to see that his last text was not even acknowledged agitated him to no end. This is not how it was supposed to be.

Katsuki isn’t worried about him.

And Katsuki certainly does not jump when he spots his father in the corner of his vision out of nowhere, apparently not hearing that he had already returned to the living room. Katsuki warily eyes the wet spots on his dad’s now-wrinkled shirt, slowly trailing up to meet his soft brown eyes. They were red, too. Katsuki swallows again, and wishes that he had grabbed himself a glass of water before sitting down, but now feels as if he's been pinned in place on the couch by his fathers weary expression.

“Can you just tell me what the hell happened already?” He almost sounds like his normal rude and demanding self, but the wavering in his voice betrays his more vulnerable emotions. His fathers lips press together as he eyes Katsuki with a horribly sad look, nodding as he sits down with a huff and his hands on his knees.

The man pauses for a moment, staring at the ground before he rubs the bridge of his nose, removing his glasses to do so. He draws in a deep breath of air, and Katsuki finds himself leaning forward in anticipation, annoyed.

“Inko and Izuku were in an accident on their way. A car accident,” the old man finally says, and Katsuki’s eyes widen, his heart stuttering as if it skipped several beats.

“W-What?” He asks, physically taken aback, even though he fully heard what his father had just said. It just wasn’t processing.

“They… They were going over a bridge, and for some reason went off the road, during the chaos of the storm. Their car went over the edge and into a river…” he utters out, voice trailing off a bit, waning. His eyes narrow, tearing up, hesitant as he looks at Katsuki.

“Inko didn’t make it. And… They don’t know what happened to Izuku, but he wasn’t found at the scene,” his father finishes, and it's like Katsuki’s mind goes entirely blank, filling up with something akin to TV static that completely drowns out any previous thoughts he might have been having. For a fleeting moment, he was sure his heart had completely frozen.

‘Didn’t make it?’ Katsuki thinks, swallowing. Suddenly, the sweat that was gathering at his brow drips down the side of his face, he swears he can hear it— and his entire world begins to feel incredibly small. It’s as if the walls of his home were closing in on him, and his chest begins to rise and fall as his breathing pattern turns erratic and unsteady.

‘Wasn’t found?’ His mind swirls, and he thinks he’s grabbing at his chest now— and it hurts, he feels like he’s drowning— and then there's a ringing in his ears overtaking anything audible around him. Katsuki thinks that his vision is blurring, too, because he couldn’t see his dad in front of him anymore, and his panic increases tenfold because the room hasn’t stopped shrinking!

Nothing was making any sense! What was Katsuki supposed to say to that? That wasn’t… he couldn’t comprehend it!

Katsuki isn’t sure if he’s breathing anymore, or if he’s breathing too much at this point, he isn’t sure of anything anymore. Actually, his world is kind of falling apart, because what did he mean “Auntie didn’t make it”? What did he mean by “Deku wasn’t found”?!

“Katsuki! Katsuki!” His dad’s voice is suddenly right in front of his face, louder than the ringing in his ears and static overwhelming all of his senses, and he blinks out of his stupor— his jaw hanging open, trembling— and his bright crimson eyes lock onto his fathers. Something hot trails down his cheeks, and he realizes that he’s crying. His father had placed both of his hands on Katsuki’s shoulders, literally shaking him out of… whatever that was.

“You can’t be serious, right? W-Why would you say that?” He finds himself blurting out, pushing his fathers arms off his shoulders, standing a bit too suddenly— something falls off his form to the ground, and it's then that he realizes that his father had brought out one of their fireproof blankets and had put it around him as a precaution assumedly during his little freak-out, because he certainly didn’t have it before his dad had decided to drop a bombshell on him. He must have been lightheaded, too, because his sense of balance sways from getting up so fast, and he stumbles back, though his fathers arms dart forward, grabbing onto him firm; saving him from the embarrassment of falling on his ass.

“I’m serious, son. I really, really wish that it wasn’t true, but it is,” he says, maintaining his unyielding grip on Katsuki’s trembling hand. “I… we saw Inko ourselves, and—”

“Stop! Just stop it!” Katsuki shouts, yanking his hands free of his fathers grasp to move himself further out of his reach in a sudden, desperate want to flee. 

The want— no, need — to run overwhelms him all at once, and without giving himself the proper time to think about it, he’s turning and rushing to the genkan— the pounding of his feet on the hardwood echoing throughout the house as he outright ignores his father who was yelling at him to come back and stay. Instead of doing that, he wretches the front door open— not even bothering to put on his outside shoes— and makes a run for it to who-knows-where, slamming the door behind him.

His brain fills with that static— that fog again— and he can just barely make out the sounds of his father chasing him out of the house, too; but his son was already past the front gate and down the neighborhood street with no particular destination in mind, his heart practically in his throat. 

And then everything else fades away, and Katsuki runs.

Much earlier in the day…

Izuku doesn’t know how long he’s been running.

Ever since the convenience store, he hasn’t stopped moving for long. He’s set himself a breathless pace, and he hasn’t been able to feel his legs in awhile— but Izuku fears that if he stops he won’t be able to move ever again. Maybe if he was well rested and actually, properly fed he wouldn’t be thinking so irrationally, but Izuku is neither of those things right now; so instead his thoughts are messy and disorganized.

But, eventually, his body does give out on him.

Sometime after the storm had ended, Izuku finds that he is still in an unfamiliar part of Musutafu— most likely very far away from home. As he runs down a nondescript alleyway, Izuku trips on his own foot and tumbles to the ground, scraping up his hands and knees on the trip down.

His lungs heave as he lays there on the concrete, his mind left numbingly blank. The ground is still cold and wet from all the rain, but thankfully he isn’t lying in a puddle this time. His vision is blurry from exhaustion as he stares into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular. Briefly, the working part of his brain considers his vulnerable position, and Izuku moves his head up to look down the length of the alley for a better place to hide. Across the way, there's piles of boxes, all filled to various degrees— some empty, some full— and he decides to drag himself over to them.

There's one large box on its side, and it's a perfect size for Izuku. He crawls on his elbows and reaches it, curling up inside, his head swimming uncomfortably within a general feeling of dizziness and nausea. He’s still so hungry, but for now, he’s too tired to do anything about it.

‘I just… gotta sleep… just for a little bit,’ Izuku’s mind drifts as his eyes slowly flutter closed, and the rhythm of his chest stutters a bit as he tries to just slow everything down; though its difficult with how he still feels incredibly unsafe, as if he’s being watched from all angles.

But, eventually, his body does begin to relax, and not too long after he drifts into a weary slumber thinking about blond hair and the nostalgic sounds of summers’ long past.

-

It was such a hot summer that year. The cicadas sang, and the mosquitos buzzed around them obnoxiously under the shade of the cedar trees. They were out in Takoba Woods again, searching high and low for any cool bugs they could find, determined to make at least one good catch before the end of the day.

As Izuku walked behind Kacchan, toting their plastic bug house, he hummed as he remembered the excitement from earlier in the day. While they were in class, Kacchan’s hands had begun to crackle and pop with what seemed to be tiny little explosions, and everyone including their sensei’s were amazed at his newly emerged quirk. It was such a perfect combination of his parent’s quirk’s that everyone couldn’t help but be jealous. Tomorrow, Kacchan would go to the Quirk Registration Office with his parents to get it officially titled and recorded.

“Your quirk’s so cool, Kacchan— I hope I get mine soon!” Izuku said as he watched his friend march along. Kacchan turned his head and grinned in that familiar way, and held up the bug net over his shoulder.

“Whatever you get, there's no way it’ll beat mine,” he said with a puffed out chest, and Izuku smiled nervously at him, his chest thrummed with happiness for his friend.

“I hope I get a mix of my parents too, ‘cause then I could control fire with my hands or somethin’, and then our quirk’s would kinda match!” Izuku said, but Kacchan just rolled his eyes, too interested in his own newly manifested quirk to really care about anyone else's for the time being. He let little sparks pop off his palms absentmindedly as they trekked on, and with each one Izuku would “ooh” and “ahh” in amazement, and Kacchan would smirk proudly every time.

Off the path they heard a rustling in the bushes, and Kacchan only jumped a little bit but Izuku squealed loudly as he went to hide behind his friend.

“Uhg, you’re such a baby, Izuku,” Kacchan groaned— and for a moment Izuku was thrown off because he hadn’t called him Deku— but then his friend grinned dangerously. “Lets go, forward march! We’ll find the enemy and crush them!” He declared, and ran off in the direction of the sound. 

Izuku eked out a little whine in protest but followed after Kacchan anyway, not wanting to get separated.

“Wait up, Kacchan!”


Izuku gasps awake at the sound of a disturbance in his surroundings— abruptly plucked from the dream he was having, leaving him in a state of momentary panic. Bumping his head on the top of the box he had slept in, he blinks his oddly wet eyes rapidly, trying to assess the situation; his dream quickly slipping from his now waking mind.

The sounds of cats yowling and spitting echo around him, and Izuku swallows a bit as he sees what has to be two strays circling each other in the middle of the alley, all puffed up and angry, making swipes with unsheathed claws. The loud crashing sound seems to have been from a pile of trash that one of the cats had either fallen or ran into, as random bits of recyclables rolled around noisily.

Izuku sighs, relieved that it was only some cats and not someone coming to murder him again, and his shoulders relax from their previously held taut state. He watches the cats fight amongst themselves, not willing to try and step in and risk getting scratched or bit, and fruitlessly tries to recall what he thinks was a pleasant dream as he hikes up his legs, resting his chin on his knees and wrapping his arms around them as he presses himself against the back of the box.

Distantly, Izuku can hear the sounds of the city finally waking up. People beginning their commutes, cars honking (he flinches every time he hears them, but he does his best to ignore it,) and even the sounds of some nearby construction starting— and, of course, the cats that were still having a spat in front of him. The storms have long since passed it seems, and Izuku is glad to feel how the temperature begins to warm up; it’s a small thing, but still, he is actually happier for it.

The momentary emptiness in his mind is interrupted, however, by the sound of shoes scuffing on the ground somewhere nearby, and anxiety zaps through his chest like a bolt of electricity as he rushes to grab at the edges of the box he’s sheltered in, pulling them closed in a poor attempt to hide himself. It's hard not to breathe as if he’s just ran a marathon with the sudden adrenaline spike, but somehow Izuku keeps quiet despite his heart pounding as he peeks through the small gap in between the flaps.

A tall, scruffy looking man wearing a simple tank top, cargo shorts and sporting sandals strides into the alley carrying what looks to be a paper bag containing some groceries. He has long, jet-black wavy hair that's pulled back into a half bun to stave off the heat of the late morning— though it's all juxtaposed to the extremely odd, thin scarf-thing that sits wrapped around his shoulders over a dozen times.

‘Why’s he wearing a scarf…? In this heat?’ Izuku thinks, swallowing as he tries to calm his nerves about the man getting closer. He appears to be approaching the cats slowly, and as he squats down he pushes back the sunglasses that he’s wearing to the top of his head, exposing blood-shot eyes and deep eye bags that make Izuku cringe.

“Quit that,” the man’s deep voice rumbles out to the fighting cats, and Izuku shrinks in on himself involuntarily. In response, the cats jump and turn to spit and hiss at him, now that they appear to have a common enemy. To that, the man just raises a single finger in a quick “come at me” motion, which Izuku almost giggles at, but thankfully stops himself.

He then sets down the bag he was holding, kneeling fully into a crouch, and pulls out a can of cat food. At the sound of him cracking it open, the cat's demeanor's immediately switch up from unnecessary vitriol to that of desperate begging, and all of the sudden a whole colony of hidden strays pour out of various nooks and crannies from around the alley, all hoping to be fed as well. The man chuckles deeply at the sight, and by the amount of food that he brings out for them all it seems that he was expecting the crowd.

“Settle down now,” he says, shooing away a particularly bold cat that had shoved the entire front half of its body into the bag, redirecting it over to a pile of wet food that he’d just poured out. “There's enough for all of you,” he sounds incredibly fond as he strokes the back of one distracted cat as it scarfs down what was offered, growling at another cat that had gotten too close.

And as Izuku watches them feast, his stomach growls, loud.

His entire body freezes, and he’s petrified as he watches the stranger immediately look up in his direction, eyes narrowing in suspicion as one of his hands reach up to grab at his weird scarf. Izuku immediately moves his head out from the gap, still carefully holding the lid closed, trying not to hyperventilate, and shuts his eyes tight— praying that he hadn’t just been made.

He doesn’t hear anything strange for the moment, but then the tone of a phone ringing (very) close to his poor hiding place breaks the spell, and he thinks he hears the man curse under his breath before there's the sound of clothes rustling and footsteps receding.

“What?” The man answers his phone, sounding annoyed. Izuku can just barely pick up the very loud caller on the other end over the sound of his wildly beating heart, but can’t quite make out what they’re saying, so now Izuku was unfortunately privy to a one-sided conversation.

“No, I already sent those lesson plans over to Kan yesterday. Did he not even check his email?” He says, and by the direction of his voice it seems that he’s facing away now, so Izuku chances a peek. The other voice responds, and the man clicks his tongue, rolling his neck, “tch, of course…” he sighs as he maneuvers the device to rest on his shoulder to free up his hands as he goes back to spreading out the food and collecting the now empty cans to discard them.

“I’m just running errands,” he continues his conversation, thankfully seeming to forget about hearing Izuku’s obnoxiously loud stomach. “No, Yamada, I’m not in the mood for it today. I haven’t had a proper day off in weeks—” he seems to be cut off by the other person, and grumbles a bit. “I don’t care that you’re lonely. I’m not going. Ask Kayama or something,” he huffs, and Izuku feels bad for eavesdropping, but it's not like he could do anything else as he is kind of trapped.

“I’m hanging up now. Don’t bother me again unless it's actually important. I’ll see you Monday, goodbye,” he says, making his irritation extremely obvious by his tone. Izuku watches as he pockets his phone, grousing to himself, and decides to play it safe by hiding again and going back to hoping that the stranger had actually forgotten about the earlier suspicious sounds.

Blessedly, he hears what he thinks to be the man leaving, though not without feeling his presence lingering there for a bit before finally disappearing. Izuku still doesn’t leave the box until he’s done counting to one-thousand in his head, but when he feels like he can breathe again, he slowly peeks his head out of the box and checks the alley.

Finding it now devoid of life (besides the cats that happened to stick around), Izuku decides that it's safe to leave and figure out what to do next.

The cats stare at him with eyes full of distrust and suspicion, and if Izuku were to be honest he's too scared to attempt petting them, so for now he just maneuvers around them very carefully until he’s out of the alley and walking along the back-roads of whatever sector of Musutafu he’d found himself in. Though, as soon as he steps out, someone riding a moped speeds past him and Izuku has to stumble back to get out of their way, but doesn't look where he was going and accidentally steps into a pile of shattered glass, cutting up his bare feet.

“Dammit!” He curses, wincing as he hobbles backward, now bending his leg up to see where shards of glass had embedded into the arch of his foot. His first instinct is to cry, but Izuku intentionally pushes away that urge as he shakily reaches toward the foreign bodies to remove them, and he’ll just have to hope that he doesn’t get an infection.

After he pulls all of the pieces out of his feet— also managing to cut up his fingers on the sharp edges doing so— Izuku hesitantly starts on his way again, though now with a (slightly) noticeable limp and sluggishly bleeding feet. His stomach also growls, again.

‘I wish I had some shoes… and something to eat,’ he thinks, mindless as he walks through the city. Izuku keeps his head down, trying to blend into the more run-down areas. It was a good thing his clothes were dark enough that the bloodstains were easily missed unless someone were to stop and actually take a good look at him. However, everyone seems too focused on their own lives to care about one scuffed-up looking boy it seems, and for the moment Izuku is thankful for that— even though a small part of him wishes deep down that anyone would pull him aside to ask him if he was alright. That a hero would come down from the sky and save the day, and take him to where his mom was actually waiting for him, alive, and then he could wake up from this nightmare.

Izuku takes in his surroundings subtly as he walks, trying to find a place to get food while also not looking completely lost, and as he does he loses himself in his head.

‘I should really just go home,’ the logical side of himself says, and that feeling of dread rises. A signal above his head lets out a familiar soft jingle, and the crowd around him starts to move along the crosswalk, Izuku following mindlessly in tow.

‘There's no one to go back to anymore, idiot,’ the voice in his head that sounds vaguely like Kacchan reminds him of his current circumstances, and he frowns, now staring at his moving bloodied feet.

‘But, if I go back, surely the police will be looking for me, and I’d save them a lot of trouble by returning,’ he argues with himself, trying to think about the perfectly reasonable thing to do as opposed to whatever it is that Izuku was doing right now.

‘Right, and then you’ll be, what, sent into the foster care system? Away from everything and everyone? Do you really want that?’ The meaner voice says back, and his anxiety worsens.

‘No, of course not! But surely Aunt Mitsuki will be worried about me, right? Surely she already knows what happened to… to Mom,’ he thinks, and his nose burns at the reminder as he glances at the ring on his finger, rubbing it with his thumb contemplatively.

And then Izuku freezes for a moment, causing the person that was walking behind him to stumble into his shoulder, saying something about watching where he was going, but Izuku doesn’t even find himself apologizing; too troubled by his own halting train of thought to care. He’s sure a few people give him some weird looks now that he’s just stood still on the middle of the sidewalk.

‘Oh god, Aunt Mitsuki and Uncle Masaru are probably devastated—” Izuku’s almost begins to cry again at just the simple thought of Kacchan’s parents and how worried they must be, and jolts with the heavy reminder that there were people back home to go to, and that he’s surely being selfish by not trying to return to them immediately. He tries to collect himself now.

‘I have to get back to them,’ Izuku decides internally, but right as he begins to walk again his small form bumps into someone else harshly, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground with a grunt. When he opens his eyes again and looks up, Izuku’s heart drops in his chest, because he had just walked straight into a police officer.

The officer turns around, looking startled, and then Izuku watches as they literally do a double take.

“Hey, kid, are you alright?!” The young-looking officer asks, incredulous. They start to bend down to help Izuku up, but before they can touch him Izuku jerks himself away almost violently, scrambling to get up by himself.

“I-I’m fine!” He squeaks out, voice cracking and stuttering. He was very obviously not alright, and for a fleeting moment he was relieved that someone had finally noticed (though he did have to literally bump into them for it to happen,) but now that he had already decided what he was going to do he couldn’t let himself be taken in now.

“Fine?! Kid, you look injured! Here, let me—” the officer tries to grab onto Izuku again, but this time he actually does push them away as hard as he can, accidentally sending them into the group behind him, causing a couple of people to tumble to the ground with a few yelps. Horrified at his own actions, Izuku gapes at them a bit, wide-eyed, before turning and bolting.

“Kid! Wait!” He hears the officer shout after him, but Izuku does no such thing and blindly runs away— his bare feet audibly slapping against the concrete and with every step pain shoots up from the cuts that were re-opening—  all the while the people around him let out startled sounds and the occasional scream as he forces a path through the throngs of citizens, harshly pushing and shoving— probably because in this day and age, when a random chase occurred in public, it usually meant a runaway villain of some sort.

“Sorry! Sorry! I-I’m sorry!” Izuku yells out meager apologies at every point of forced contact, though he knows it's meaningless, as he’s probably still scaring so many people— he needs to calm down!

‘Idiot! What are you doing?! You’re only drawing more attention to yourself!’ The barely-working logical side of his brain screams at him, and Izuku’s eyes shut tightly for a moment as he tries to think of a plan whilst fleeing. At this point, he’s not even sure if he is being chased or if he had just jumped the gun on that one; he didn’t want to take any chances, though, his flight response entirely taking over.

‘They will start chasing you if you keep this up, moron! Stop running in the middle of the street and hide already!!!’ That nagging voice says, and his teeth clench with fear. He skids to a halt for a moment, breathing rapidly as his head swivels around, looking for a place to go. Some people gawk at him, now creating a wider birth around him which he did not need right now, and then Izuku can hear someone shouting in the distance across the street.

“There he is!” He spots a new police officer yelling and pointing at him, speaking into a radio on their shoulder briefly, which sends another shock of panic down his spine. He makes an abrupt right turn— knocking into a row of parked bicycles, causing them to crash down in a row like dominoes— but he quickly recovers with barely a wince and makes a break for it through one of the more lively shopping centers.

It’s then that Izuku recognizes where he is. The promenade is bustling with people at the height of what he assumes to be prime shopping hours, and he’s able to smoothly transition from a sprint to a jog, and then finally slows to a walk as he tries his best to blend in with the crowds who hadn’t seen him being chased only moments prior. It was so busy and loud here, and for a moment Izuku was almost overwhelmed by the amount of people surrounding him, but for some reason the familiar scenery was keeping his panic at bay for the time being.

He’d been to this street before with his mother— not too long ago, in fact. It wasn’t just a street, really, it was a sprawling outdoor shopping mall, and his mother had taken him out as a treat for doing well on some exam last year that he couldn’t even remember the details of now. If he remembers correctly, it's the Tatooin shopping mall.

‘Which means I’m close to Tatooin station!’ His heart soars at the realization, mostly because that meant he was actually close to home! Now that Izuku could place where he is in the vast city that is Musutafu, his heart began to slow down ever so slightly. 

However, the brief wave of security that he felt washes away as he hears some more vague shouting in the distance, and the anxiety in his chest thrums as he glances back to see if he can spot anyone still chasing him, though he’s too short to actually see anything over the shoulders of the people behind him. At least his small stature lended himself easy coverage amongst the crowds.

Despite knowing that he was being ignored again by the general public, the hairs on the back of his neck were still raised as if he was being watched from all angles, and Izuku just wants it all to stop. He does his best to act calm, as if there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, and soon he forgets about any pain he was feeling as his brain focuses solely on navigating his way to Tatooin station. From there, he could take the local train back to his neighborhood, and then…

Well, Izuku isn’t entirely sure what he's going to do once he gets back home, but that could all be figured out later. Right now he just needed to get the hell out of here.

At that point he’s shaken off the tail he’d had, so he was able to relax on that front. He sticks to the edges of the crowds now, closer to the walls of the buildings while still maintaining a safe distance from any storefronts, and soon Izuku can’t help the nervous grin that breaks across his face as he leaves the shopping center behind to see the looming overhead sign that reads ‘Tatooin Station’ in big, bold kanji. All the large screens on the sides of buildings scroll through their usual ads and what not, though when a few stop to display the recent weather forecast and date and time, Izuku pays attention.
 

The bright display reads ‘2XXX, July the 19th, Saturday — 1:36pm’ and Izuku feels as though he’s been punched in the gut.

‘It’s been almost a week…?’ He gapes, surprised by how much time he’d lost since…

Izuku flinches as he swears he can hear the blaring sound of car horns, of tires screeching on wet pavement— of his mother screaming his name— and suddenly he’s forced to focus on his breathing and not having a major freak-out in the middle of a packed train station.

“Stop it!” Izuku grouses to himself, clutching onto his hair and shutting his eyes for a moment— and that garners him a few concerned looks from the people directly surrounding him— but once again, no one pays him much attention beyond those weary passing glances he was starting to grow accustomed to at this point.

‘Just calm down,’ he thinks, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to center himself. Opening his eyes once more, Izuku quickly finds the entrance to the station and begins to make his way over; now actively ignoring the way his hands tremble at the constant reminders of the incident. Though, as Izuku approaches the gates to the station, he freezes.

‘Shit! I don’t even have my IC card!’ He groans as he watches the commuters making their way through the electronic gates with the taps of their fare cards. At such a busy station the gate attendants watch the entry ways carefully; ensuring that no one tries to evade paying the fares, and Izuku shrivels in on himself.

‘Dammit, dammit, dammit! How am I supposed to get through?! I don’t even have money for a ticket!’ Izuku thinks, now filled with dread at the idea of having to potentially walk all the way back to his neighborhood— when suddenly, for a brief moment, Izuku locks eyes with someone.

The kid looks his age, although Izuku has certainly never seen him around before (which was a good thing for Izuku, as he certainly didn’t want to run into any kids that he knew). He’s tall, with gravity-defying purple hair and eyes to match, though his eye bags display that he must struggle with getting sleep. Izuku is surprised to catch someone actually staring at him, and so he nervously breaks eye contact for a moment… before hesitantly looking right back up at him.

The kid takes one appraising look at Izuku, his stony expression holding neutral, and then glances at the gates. Before he passes through, he makes a show of tapping his card once, and then a second time as he passes through, gesturing for Izuku to… follow?

Sputtering a bit, Izuku rushes to make it through the gate before it closes, and he narrowly avoids bumping into the other kid doing so. They’re both quick to get out of the way of the gates once they enter, mindful of the people around them, and Izuku temporarily finds himself at a loss for words, now standing face to face with the boy.

“Um… T-Thank you. Y-You didn’t have t-to do that…” Izuku says in slightly unsure but grateful tone, nervously bowing as he doesn’t know what else to do— and the purple-haired kid says nothing to him in return, opting instead to stare at Izuku for another moment, nodding once, before finally turning and walking away.

‘What… just happened?’ Izuku thinks for a moment how lucky he is that someone had just randomly decided to be a good Samaritan (a kid his age no less!), but then decides it best to not question the boy’s motives. He supposes that he did look a mess currently, so he is a little glad that it had at least garnered him some pity-points in the way of getting his fare covered.

He nervously tracks the strange boy as he makes a left to stand and wait for one of the more rapid-transit trains to arrive, and Izuku sighs a little in relief knowing that they weren’t boarding the same train. Izuku himself only needs to take the local train to get to his neighborhood (which is only four stops away,) and so he walks to the right platform to do just that.

Not even five minutes later, the voice of the station announcer softly informs the masses that the local train is now arriving and to stay a safe distance away from the platform ledge. Izuku patiently waits for the train-cars to slow to a stop, and after the doors slide open and let out the exiting passengers, Izuku and the people waiting around him filter into the packed train in an orderly fashion.

It isn’t lost on Izuku how his nerves begin to rise from boarding a moving vehicle, but he’s able to detach himself enough from his body to ignore the anxiety swelling in his stomach. Hiding within the mass of warm bodies, he clutches onto one of the handlebars closest to the doors along the wall and shuts his eyes, letting his mind focus solely on the people surrounding him, trying his best to not panic. As the train begins to move, someone shifts their stance and accidentally steps on Izuku’s foot, and he winces— it hurts— but he doesn’t make a peep, instead he just moves away from them silently and focuses on not letting his tears flow.

His head fills with fog, and one after the other his senses become dulled as Izuku is overwhelmed with just a singular, desperate thought.

Izuku just wants his mom.

-

For the entire duration of the ride, Izuku fell out of his own head.

He isn’t bothered by anyone, and for that he’s grateful. The whole time he keeps his face down, simply staring at the ground, and forgets that he exists.

But, eventually, he’s brought back to himself when over the intercom a feminine voice says “next stop, Takoba station,” and suddenly Izuku can feel his body once again with the knowledge that he’s so close to home.

The fear that Izuku might run into someone that knows him invades his mind, however, and now he isn’t so sure that he has the courage to step off the train. He bites his lip, stewing in this newfound anxiety, but doesn’t have long to do so as the train begins to slow down again, and his whole body buzzes uncomfortably with anticipation.

“Now arriving at Takoba station, please mind the doors,” the voice announces, and Izuku swallows, trying to muster up the will to soldier on. 

The train comes to a full stop, and the doors slide open. A good amount of people get off at the stop, and Izuku drags his feet a bit when stepping out to the… less-than-lively platform.

Takoba station is definitel y not as busy as Tatooin station was, and his nerves get the better of him because there’s a distinct lack of a crowd for him to nicely tuck himself away into. He does his best to not look out of place (although with his disheveled appearance it was quite the tall order,) and shuffles over to the exit.

Unfortunately there’s no purple-haired kid around to tap him out of the fare gates, but fortunately for Izuku, the fare attendants seemed to be temporarily away from their booth, and so Izuku does a quick sweep of his surroundings before vaulting over the little gate as indiscreetly as he can. No one around him seems to make a stink about it— thank god— but Izuku does spot a CCTV camera on the ceiling pointed directly at the gates— and he would freak out about that more, he thinks, if he wasn’t so goddamn hungry.

His stomach growls again for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few hours, and Izuku has had enough of it.

And, as Izuku walks out of the train station, he knows exactly where he’s headed.

The apartments were only a fifteen minute walk away from the station, but Izuku had a pit-stop in mind first. There was a short yokocho packed with some familiar family-owned restaurants and bars that had Izuku practically aching at the sight of. The street was surprisingly packed for this time of day, he thinks, but that was better for him anyways. Within the shadows of the buildings and crowds, he’s able to hide much better. Luckily he sees no one that he recognizes and quickly shoulders his way into one shop in particular.

Mrs. Kageyama ran a quaint little curry restaurant all by herself, although sometimes her adult children (or even grandchildren) would help her out every now and then. Izuku is testing his luck by going in without knowing who all’s working, but as he pushes through the little flaps of fabric covering the doorway he’s relieved to find that it’s just Mrs. Kageyama— which is good for Izuku, because the old lady just so happened to be completely blind.

It was a bit of a novelty for people that had never come in to eat Mrs. Kageyama’s food before to see an old blind lady running a restaurant alone, but if one were to pay attention to the effortless way she moved around the tight little kitchen behind the bar they’d be able to see that she certainly had no trouble in regards to her lack of eyesight. It has to be a quirk of some kind that allows her to do this— Izuku’s sure of it— most likely a highly-tuned sensory type, but he has yet to get the old woman to budge on what her secret actually is.

There's already a few people sitting down inside quietly eating their meals, but thankfully none of them even acknowledge Izuku’s presence as he shuffles in behind them as close to the wall as he can get. He goes all the way to the back to sit in the farthest seat from the entrance, and hops up onto the vacant stool and nervously eyes Mrs. Kageyama from the other side of the room.

She already knows that he's there, Izuku’s sure of it, but until he speaks she probably doesn’t know that it's him. Izuku and his mother have been coming to her little restaurant for quite awhile now, and so the old woman was well acquainted with him as a regular customer; it's one of the plus-sides to coming here. Unlike the kids at his school, Mrs. Kageyama’s opinion of him never changed even after she’d learned that Izuku was quirkless.

In fact, she was always quick to provide a source of comfort to him whenever said kids at his school decided to pick on him on any given day. It wasn’t often that his torment would follow him home, but there had been some days when the nastier kids would try to chase him to his apartment for “fun”— and whenever that would happen, Izuku would seek refuge in her little restaurant, and she was always quick to provide a place to lay low until it was safe for him to leave. She would even insist on feeding him for free on days like that, too, and Izuku would meekly accept; because it never felt like pity coming from her. Secretly, he liked to imagine that this is what it was like to have a grandmother.

Mrs. Kageyama completes another patron's order and serves it to them, and Izuku swallows nervously a bit as she begins to make her way over to him now that she’s free.

“Hello there, dearie,” she greets him, kind as ever, and Izuku’s heart swells at the sound of her familiar voice. “What can I get started for you?”

“U-Um, just o-one order of katsu curry, please,” Izuku murmurs, and as soon as he speaks he watches as Mrs. Kageyama’s face lights up with recognition.

“Izuku-kun! I didn’t realize that was you!” She says, sounding genuinely surprised. “It was like a mouse had entered my shop with how quiet you were, silly! That isn’t like you!” She coos a bit, and reaches over the counter to ruffle his hair like she normally would, but for some reason Izuku panics and rears back in his stool with a sharp intake of air and wide eyes.

“Izuku-kun? What's wrong dear?” She asks, her hand falling back to her side and her expression pinches with obvious concern. Izuku quickly tries to collect himself.

“I-I’m sorry, Kageyama-san! You, uh, j-just surprised me, is all,” he fumbles to say, laughing nervously, and the old woman’s milky eyes narrow suspiciously at him, and he feels himself beginning to sweat under her calculating gaze.

“Oh Izuku-kun, you’re always so polite,” she sighs, and Izuku’s face flushes a little because of how many times they’ve had this exact same conversation. “You know you can just call me Granny, right?” She smiles softly at him.

“R-Right. Sorry,” he stutters out, his shoulders now curling in on themselves, and her lips press together tightly.

“Are those nasty boys causing you trouble again, sweetheart?” She asks, now sounding a bit upset as her knuckles rest on the points of her hips.

“O-Oh, um,” Izuku struggles to figure out what to say, because he hates lying to people, but he also couldn’t just tell her what was happening. So, he decides to go along with the simplest explanation of his odd behavior that she’d just so helpfully provided, even if it wasn’t exactly the truth. “Yes… but, um, it’s fine, really..." he says, rubbing his left hand idly over the ring on his right. He feels a bit slimy, deceiving her like this, taking advantage of the old woman's seemingly ever-flowing font of kindness— but he was so desperately hungry that he felt he could justify lying to just about anyone right now.

Mrs. Kageyama hums at that, very obviously not believing him, but before she can say anything in response Izuku’s stomach growls, and his cheeks darken even more than before in embarrassment. “S-Sorry, I’m just… I’m really hungry,” he mumbles, mortified at his own body betraying just how bad it was getting, but he is also sort of glad because it did earn him an immediate look of pity, and she tuts a bit at him before going to start on his food.

“Well, let's fix that then, alright? You just stay right there and wait, okay?” She smiles again, placing a glass of ice water down in front of him that she had seemingly produced out of thin air. “You sound terrible, dear. Drink up,” she says, managing to snag a quick pinch on his cheek that almost has him crying from the sheer gentleness of her touch— the gesture was so painfully domestic that he can’t help but think of his mother, but he can't think about that or else he would surely cease to function— and so, without even realizing it, Izuku detaches from himself ever so slightly; and suddenly those troubles feel farther away from him as his mind drifts.

Izuku isn’t sure how long he's sat there in that state daydreaming, but before long a steaming plate of freshly-cooked katsu curry is being set down on his place-mat, snapping him out of his daze. As if Izuku is some kind of starving street-dog, his mouth instantly fills with saliva so much so that he has to swallow it back before he could literally drool at the sight of the prepared meal.

“Here you go sweetie. Eat up now,” she says, patting the top of his head, and this time Izuku doesn’t flinch away. He misses the way her eyebrows knit together in concern at the feel of his hair.

He uncharacteristically says nothing before digging in ravenously— practically shoveling the food into his mouth as if it was his last meal on earth— although unlike the convenience store onigiri he remembers to wash it all down with water intermittently so as to not choke on her wonderful cooking. To the side a bowl of shredded cabbage with roasted sesame dressing appears, and Izuku doesn’t hesitate to vacuum it up along with the curry.

Mrs. Kageyama sighs and shakes her head at the display, though Izuku was so focused on the meal that he couldn’t be bothered to worry about decorum. As soon as he finishes his first glass of water, she’s quick to replace it to keep him going. “Goodness, sweetheart. You weren’t kidding,” she says in lieu of keeping silent, and Izuku hurries to swallow before trying to respond.

“U-Um, yeah, it’s just been kind of a crazy day, a-and I forgot to eat anything,” he fibs. She can clearly tell that he isn’t telling her the whole truth, and so he doesn’t push it any further than that— he didn’t want to insult her intelligence, after all. He goes back to finishing his food.

“I wish you would tell your mother about those boys, Izuku-kun. It's not right for them to pick on you so harshly,” she chides him a bit before turning and going over to the back sinks to wash some dishes that had been soaking, not noticing the way Izuku’s entire body had frozen in place. Any appetite that he had left suddenly vanished.

Izuku pushes away from the counter, setting down his utensils. At the loud screeching of the wooden legs of the stool on the ground beneath them, Mrs. Kageyama turns back to look at him, seeming confused. “Izuku-kun?” She calls out to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Kageyama-san. I-I just remembered that I have to get home now, M-Mom’s expecting me,” he blurts out, nearly vomiting at the reminder of his mother, and clenches at his stomach uncomfortably. Mrs. Kageyama looks a little bewildered at his sudden change in attitude. “I forgot to bring m-my allowance with me, um…” he then says, feeling mortified that he’d forgotten so easily that he didn’t have any way to pay for the food.

She waves him off easily, “Oh, Izuku-kun, you know I’m not charging you, no need to apologize” she says, now sounding a bit exasperated. “But aren’t you going to finish?”

“I-I’m so sorry, I really have to go,” he struggles to get out, now slapping a hand over his mouth as he feels a dreadful sense of nausea creep up his esophagus. Izuku slips off of the stool, bowing awkwardly in the slightly cramped space of the restaurant and begins to stumble away.

“Izuku-kun, are you really alright?” She calls after him, and now the other patrons finally look up to see what all the commotion was about and he watches as similar looks of shock morph onto all of their faces as they really take in his appearance, and that familiar anxiety rises in his chest as he practically sprints out of the doorway, accidentally bumping into another woman who was trying to enter.

“Sorry!” He shouts one last time before disappearing into the cramped neighborhood streets of Musutafu.

Later that same day…

Masaru felt as though he’d been searching for Katsuki for hours.

In fact, he had been looking for a few hours now. By the time they’d gotten home from the police station it was already somewhat late in the evening, but now the sun was actually setting and there was still no sign of where Katsuki had disappeared.

It was so unlike him. Sure his son would run off to his room once and awhile after being told off about something trivial by Mitsuki, but he’d never just up and run from the house before. Masaru supposed these were extremely upsetting circumstances, though— he honestly couldn’t blame Katsuki. Masaru also wished he could just run away from this reality, too.

But there was no running from this. Inko is dead, and Izuku is missing. There’s no changing those facts, no matter how much the family of three wished it to be different.

Trying to balance looking for his son while also keeping Mitsuki updated through texts was difficult. After Katsuki had run off, Mitsuki had heard their shouting and came out of their room looking absolutely worn— all tear-stained and covered in snot— terribly worried about their son, but Masaru insisted that one of them needed to stay home in case Katsuki decided to turn around and come back on his own, and he certainly wasn’t going to let his wife go out and search for him in the state that she was in.

No, this was something that he had to do alone.

But now he’s regretting being out here on his own. Katsuki was at a stage in his life where he was always going off on his own to who knows where to train or exercise, and so Masaru isn’t exactly sure where the best places to search for him were. Along the way he’d stumbled into some familiar faces from around the neighborhood and asked if they’d seen his son anywhere, though no one had been lucky enough to spot him.

“Dammit, Katsuki…” Masaru mutters under his breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes watering for a moment as he stops near the outer edges of the neighborhood.

And then Masaru hears the familiar sound of an explosion in the distance.

His head immediately whips up and turns to the direction of the sounds, and his gaze is met with the fenced off entrance to Takoba Woods beyond the boundary of their neighborhood. Mararu gapes a bit and stares as a smoke stack begins to form in the far off areas of the forest. He shut his mouth, snapping out of his brief stupor after he then picks up the sounds of his son screaming, followed by more explosions. 

Masaru doesn’t hesitate any longer. He runs through the busted down gates, ignoring the no-trespassing signs as his son obviously had done and follows the sounds of what can only be described as pure anguish.

He isn’t familiar with these woods. As he stumbles through the somewhat thick undergrowth (hyper-aware of his inappropriate footwear for the surprise hike through the forest), he finally remembers how Katsuki had used to go on about playing out in these woods with Izuku and his other friends.


“Dad! Dad! Look, we found a really big rhino… um, rhinoceros beetle!” Katsuki declared loudly upon his return to the house one day after dark. Masaru was startled by his son's rather explosive entrance, and paused his preparation of dinner to look down at Katsuki as he pulled on his pant legs to get his attention. He chuckled a bit at his son struggling to remember the name of the critter.

“Oh, wow, that is a big one!” Masaru’s eyes widened as he peered into the little plastic container keeping the insect trapped that his son held up. In the back of his mind he just hoped that Katsuki wouldn’t insist on keeping this one as a “pet” like the last three that he had brought home.

“Brat! You know I keep telling you to stop dragging dirt into the kitchen! And what did I say about going out into those woods?! You know they’re off limits for a reason!” Mitsuki suddenly piped up from her seat on the living room couch, and Masaru watched as Katsuki’s smug expression from his fathers praise twisted into one of annoyance at his mothers reprimanding.

“Whatever! I’ll go wherever I want, you can’t stop me!” He grumbles back loudly, and Masaru sighed.

“Now, now, don’t argue with your mother, Katsuki…”


“Katsuki! Katsuki!” Masaru yells, now out of breath from running for so long. It wasn’t that he’s necessarily out of shape, it’s just that running through this rough terrain in his loafers is absolutely killing his poor feet. He was drawing closer now to the intermittent sounds of his son's explosions, and while it wasn’t great that Katsuki was letting off so many in quick succession like this— he knew that it must be terribly straining to his sweat glands and shoulders— it at least provided him an easy way of tracking him down. 

And then Masaru bursts through a break in the treeline and stumbles into a… freshly made clearing. He fixes his crooked glasses and quickly finds the form of his son from where he stood amidst a circle of broken down trees and singed plants, absolutely heaving from the overuse of his quirk. Masaru watches him for a moment, stunned. He knew that his son was certainly capable of destruction like this, but to see it out on clear display sent a chill down his spine that threw him off balance.

“Oh, Katsuki…” Masaru says under his breath, but it seems that he was just loud enough for his son to hear him.

“Go away!” Katsuki yells, his voice rough as it breaks, and Masaru feels his heart shatter even further. He straightens his posture and stands firm, though. He was not going to leave his son in such a state.

Katsuki’s shoulders move up and down with his ragged breathing, and his hair drifts a bit with the cool night breeze that carries away the smoke from his demolition. He’d only seen his face for a brief moment before his son turned away to hide, but Masaru had of course noted the rawness of his expression and the puffiness of his eyes. He looks just as broken down as Mitsuki.

Masaru approaches him carefully. It isn’t that he’s afraid of his son, far from it in fact, but he just doesn’t want to startle him with any sudden movements. Katsuki makes no attempt to stop him from getting closer, and so Masaru places a tentative hand on his trembling shoulder.

Wordlessly, he pulls Katsuki toward him into an embrace and holds onto him tight. His son hates being touched like this.

And yet Katsuki clings onto him anyway.

“Why?! Why did this happen?!” Katsuki screams into his chest, rubbing his forehead deeper into his shirt, his voice breaking miserably. Masaru’s knuckles turn white from his grip, and his own tears flow past the frames of his glasses.

“I don’t know. I-I don’t know…” Masaru replies, because that’s all he could say at that moment. There wasn’t anything he could possibly tell him that would make either of them feel any better about this… utter tragedy.

And so, he says nothing else and instead just keeps Katsuki within the safety of his arms, and lets his son cry until he can’t anymore.