Chapter Text
With no one alive to take care of him, Tenko is adopted by Inko.
By the time she’s his legal guardian, he’s in school. His new brother, Izuku, was born a month after Inko found him. The process to adopt is long and strenuous, so it only actually processes legally by the new school year. Tenko’s first year ever.
He walks to the kitchen as he adjusts his gloves, tightening the straps around his wrists. When Inko learned about his quirk, instead of fearing him, she bought him a pair of drawing gloves. His thumb, pointer, and middle finger are all free, but his pinky and ring finger are covered. The fabric is incredibly thin, making it easy for him to feel textures through the glove, along with making it virtually unsnaggable. Tenko teared up a bit at how easily Inko accepted his quirk, no matter how destructive it is.
His hair turned blue after his first night with Inko. It must be something that would happen regardless, like his family dying. At least this time he has a real, loving parent. A mother.
A mother who treats his dry, itchy skin every morning and night, no matter how exhausting or annoying it must be. A mother who feeds him three times a day, who packs him lunch for school and walks with him to the bus stop and sends him off with a hug and a wave. A mother who doesn’t hurt him or yell or break things.
Even in the future Tenko saw, he’d never had a mother after his quirk. He never had a parent as kind as Inko, either.
Tenko never had a baby brother, and that might be the biggest change yet. Izuku is a crybaby, but he isn’t annoying like Tenko thought all babies are. He likes to pull Tenko’s hair, and it hurts, but it’s fine. Tenko likes Izuku anyway.
He likes that Izuku likes him this time. He likes that Izuku will become strong and save the world, and he likes that this time, Izuku won’t be fighting him.
Tenko sits on the back of the bus, waving out the back window at Inko until the bus turns the corner. Then, he pulls out a western comic from his backpack. He’s allowed to have them now, because Inko buys them for him. Inko likes heroes, too.
Tenko has big, red shoes, white socks that go up to his calves, and black cargo shorts with pockets deep enough for him to stuff cool rocks into during recess. His shirt is an old All Might shirt Inko found in a flea market, and Tenko wonders if he’ll ever get to pass it down to Izuku. He thinks the boy will like it.
He picks at the scar that serrates his lip, trying his best to stop before he bleeds. Copper blooms in the left side of his mouth— he isn’t succeeding. Every time he touches it or looks at it, he thinks of his father, but he can’t stop. The pulling of skin and the little dabs of blood that stains his fingertips when they pull away feels good. He likes to lick at the scar after, tasting the blood that wells around the edges. His picking problem might be the only thing Inko consistently scolds him for.
The bus windows are streaked with rain and are cloudy with fog. It’s been raining all morning, but when Tenko steps out at the school, it’s only a little sprinkle. Still, he’s glad he tucked his comic safe in his bag before stepping off. He jumps in a puddle or two on the sidewalk before following the crowd of other children into the school. He finds his classroom using a trick he made up in the first week: thirty steps in the right hallway, clinging to the wall, then fifteen to cross to the left. His room is next to a water fountain, and a giant paper ladybug is plastered flat on the door.
Tenko sits by the window, legs kicking under his desk as he glances outside. He wonders if Himiko has been born yet— probably, but he doesn’t have a great sense of time. All he knows is that he wants his friends to be okay.
He zones out, thinking of what they were all probably doing right now. Toga, if she were born yet, was probably doing whatever Izuku does during the day. Sleep, maybe? Dabi— Tenko thinks he should probably call him Touya —was probably being trained already. Twice still had his family, and Tenko smiles softly at the thought. Maybe he could save Twice’s family… no, probably not. He couldn’t even save his own. Besides, other than the basic reasons for Twice’s descent to villainy, he never learned the details. He has no idea where Twice lived as a kid. He just hopes Twice won’t be too far gone when he finds him.
Big sis Magne and Compress are kids, too. Tenko can’t even imagine them as children. Honestly, the only friend from the league that he’d ever seen a childhood picture of was Spinner. He was a cute kid, with big eyes and shoulder-length pink hair. Shigaraki was told that Spinner was small as a kid, most likely due to his weaker quirk. Still, he was healthy, and he was adorable— not that Shigaraki ever admitted it.
The teacher calls for attention from the front of the room, and Tenko sits up straight. His legs still swing under the desk, feet hardly brushing the ground. He tilts his head as he notices a kid behind the teacher, clinging to her dress. She pats them on the shoulder, trying her best to soothe them.
A new student. Tenko feels like he’s in one of those dating simulators he remembers playing in the not-future. Usually in those, the new kid is a girl with long, colorful hair who’s super shy. Then the player character tries to date her— Tenko remembers getting mad at those games because they weren’t “accurate” enough, or something like that. He was convinced that he could do better in real life.
Tenko bites his bottom lip, pulling at dead skin. Inko says he needs chapstick, especially with his scar, but Tenko hates how it feels. It’s sticky and thick, smearing unnaturally over his mouth with synthetic, plastic-y flavors. He doesn’t like it.
The teacher pulls the new kid in front of her, and Tenko freezes. That— no. It can’t be. He lived in Tokyo, didn’t he? This is a coincidence.
The boy in front of the class looks exactly like the picture Spinner showed him once. A heteromorph, smaller than the average child, with green scales and shoulder-length pinkish hair. He’s wearing a white tee and black slacks, obviously dressed to make a nice impression. His tail curls around his own leg, and his clawed hands wring together in front of him, picking at scales. His red eyes are wide with fear. Not the usual first-day-of-school anxiety— fear.
“Iguchi, why don’t you take the empty desk right there? You’ll sit next to Shimura.”
Tenko sits up even straighter. The seat next to him had his backpack in it, but he immediately pulls it to the floor to let Shuichi sit. The heteromorph sits stock-still, his tail twitching just a tiny bit to prove that he’s still conscious. His eyes are somehow unblinking.
Tenko feels frozen, too. How is he supposed to talk to Shuichi now? Does Shuichi like video games yet? Can Tenko even call him Shuichi if they aren’t even friends in this timeline? His head spins, and all the while he stares at the gecko.
Shuichi glances over at Tenko and visibly tenses. Tenko tilts his head in confusion, frowning at the other boy.
“...I can ask the teacher to move me, if you want.” Shuichi’s voice is so soft, trembling at the edges. Tenko squeaks indignantly.
“What! No! I— You just seem cool!” Tenko feels his face go red. He hasn’t had a friend since Mikkun and Tomo. He knows that he won’t see them any time soon, though, and besides, he’s going to get closer with Spinner than he ever was with them. Or, he should, if this all goes well. They were super close in the memories from Shigaraki, at least.
Shuichi glances at him with confusion. He definitely doesn’t believe Tenko.
“...Are you sure? I don’t mind moving. I guess.”
Tenko reaches out, but tenses when his hand is midway between them. He knows that his gloves will protect Shuichi, but there’s an instinct deep in his head that tells him to keep away. Not because of who Shuichi is, or how he looks, but because of himself. His mind must have gained the impulses he gained in the future, like making sure he doesn’t touch his friends, and he didn’t know until meeting Spinner.
“S-sorry,” Tenko immediately wants to explain that no, he isn’t disgusted by Shuichi— because Spinner thought the same thing —he just doesn’t want to accidentally dust him.
“My quirk— I keep forgetting I have my gloves on— I can’t hurt you with them— I just didn’t want you to think I’m—”
Shuichi rests his hand on Tenko’s forearm, and both boys go tense. Tenko relaxes nearly instantly, but it takes Shuichi seeing the soft, relieved grin on Tenko’s face to relax as well.
“Um… It’s okay. What does your quirk do?”
Tenko feels his hands shake a little.
“I destroy anything I touch. It all goes to dust. I have to wear gloves or I’d kill everything.”
Shuichi stares. He blinks, but there isn’t any fear in his gaze. He just nods like it’s a fun fact.
“That’s cooler than mine. I bet you’d be a really good hero! You could destroy stuff that’s getting in the way, or rescue civilians that are trapped under stuff!” Shuichi has a glimmer in his eyes that Tenko knows he’s seen before. In multiplayer games, Spinner would always be amazing at planning different strategies, even if the rest of their team was bad. Shigaraki— not Tenko, because Tenko hasn’t played games with Shuichi yet —always thought it was so cool. Spinner was his favorite video game partner.
“Well, I think geckos are cool.” Tenko doesn’t miss the absolute joy on Shuichi’s face just at that small statement. He can’t tell if it’s from the admission alone, or if it’s because Tenko mentioned the correct species.
“Are you cold blooded? Like, do you need a heating pad when it’s colder outside?” Tenko asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“Oh, um, yeah. It isn’t too bad in the spring or autumn, but once it’s super hot or super cold, I need a little more help regulating my body temperature.” Shuichi’s scales turn a bit more vibrant, and Tenko thinks it might be out of embarrassment. Spinner would do it whenever he was excited or embarrassed, Tenko remembers. Suddenly, a memory flashes behind his eyes.
—————
”Tomura,” The gecko mumbled, voice soft, a whisper in the dark. The only light in the room was from the television at the foot of Shigaraki’s bed, lit up with the pause screen of a forgotten game.
”Shuichi.” Shigaraki nodded in reply, his chin brushing against the crown of the heteromorph’s head.
Spinner was curled around his leader, tail wrapped securely around his wrist. He let out various chirps every so often due to Shigaraki’s hand tracing up and down his back. He had pulled his shirt off halfway through their nightly gaming session, mostly due to the summer night making him stuffy, but also because he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit that Shigaraki’s low, rumbling “it’s the middle of the night and i’m frustrated but trying not to wake everyone up by rage quitting” voice didn’t do things to him. Then again, Shigaraki’s voice did things to him always. He was too warm, and with nothing better to cool himself off, going shirtless was his only viable option.
The gecko had red spots on his lower back. Four of them: two right above his waistband, back dimples pressed in the center of either one, and one above and below them. Down most of his spine and across his shoulder blades, his vibrant green scales fade into a yellow-ish color. Shigaraki smoothed his middle and ring finger up and down Spinner’s spine, feeling every ridge of bone and every quiver of muscle under his fingertips. Spinner always let him know that the shivers weren’t out of fear, but because Shigaraki was the first person to touch his back in years. The first to touch him anywhere, really.
”Just… I like this.” Spinner tucked his snout even further into Shigaraki’s throat, inhaling the scent of the league’s leader and sighing with a huff of victory. Shigaraki thought it was endearing that Spinner was so proud to be his closest friend.
”I like it too. Are you still too hot? I could get an ice pack if you need it.” Shigaraki carefully reached up to scratch his scalp, magenta hair twirled around his pinky finger as his index dug gently into the skin. His other fingers retreated, nails dug into his palm. Just in case.
Spinner’s scales swelled into a brilliant, nearly glowing display. He was practically neon, saturated so vividly by his emotion. Shigaraki wondered what he had said to make the heteromorph so embarrassed. Perhaps he still felt weak when Shigaraki made him remember that their bodies were fundamentally different. Or maybe— he lets himself have a small bit of hope —Spinner was flustered by the hand in his hair. Shigaraki knew Spinner considered being pet as something intimate. Not sexual, but intimate.
—————
Tenko grins at the gecko heteromorph so wide that his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear thumping, and when he looks down he sees Shuichi’s tail wagging between the back legs of his seat.
The “memory,” though sudden and a bit confusing, made Tenko’s shoulders relax. He knew Shuichi was connected to him, and he knew their bond was different compared to his other friends, but he never understood how. The more detailed memories of certain people were typically much less clear.
Tenko and Shuichi— Shigaraki and Spinner —had been, and will be, best friends. Tenko hopes that by befriending Shuichi earlier, maybe he could stop his friend’s spiral into becoming a shut-in. Maybe then Spinner wouldn’t become a villain.
All it takes is some kindness.
During lunch and recess, Shuichi was practically glued to Tenko’s side. The gecko heteromorph was shorter and thinner than Tenko, and even though he knew he was short, Tenko was caught off guard by it. He cowered behind his new friend, claws slightly digging into Tenko’s shirt. He didn’t mind it, and he certainly wouldn’t mention it, knowing Shuichi would probably be scared off. He likes the proximity too much to care.
He spots their reflection in one of the windows on the wall closest to the merry-go-round— Shuichi said it’s his favorite, and he was surprisingly good at spinning Tenko and leaping on once he got enough momentum —and grins at their pink-and-blue cotton candy hair. Shuichi’s hair is pretty, and it’s soft against the back of Tenko’s neck when they traverse the playground. Tenko thinks it’s funny that they go together so well.
Inko was overjoyed when she learned about Tenko’s new friend.
She did all that she could to find the Iguchi’s home phone number: that is, she gave Tenko a slip of paper, and he gave it to Shuichi and hoped it would come back the next day. Thankfully, Shuichi seemed just as excited to think that their parents could meet. Both boys knew that if their parents were friends, they’d be allowed to have sleepovers. Shuichi said he’d never had one before.
Inko absolutely adored Shuichi— the first time she met him, she cooed at the boy and grinned as he showed off the blue All Might backpack he had his overnight stuff packed in. Tenko’s chest swelled with how easily Inko accepted his friend— not that he expected any different from her.
The Iguchi’s, for their part, tried their hardest not to show just how relieved they were that Inko hadn’t… well, Tenko doesn’t know what they expected. The concept of hating heteromorphs wasn’t new to him, especially with the snippets he remembers of Spinner’s ideologies and backstory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Shuichi was amazing, and there was nothing wrong with him just because he had scales.
“Tenko, you’re so nice,” Shuichi said after a round of Mario Kart, and Tenko’s cheeks warm. It wasn’t the first time Shuichi had complimented him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Still, Tenko found it hard to accept the heteromorph’s compliments. The way his voice changes, melting around the edges whenever he speaks of Tenko like that, never fails to fluster the blue-headed boy.
They’ve grown a bit, now in their third year of school. Shuichi had grown almost a head taller than Tenko early in the spring, and it made Tenko feel silly and weird, having to glance up to make eye contact with his friend. Shuichi’s tail flicked in Tenko’s lap, and Tenko pets him idly with two fingers.
“You say that, but I think you’re just buttering me up so I’ll let you win next time,” Tenko grins at his friend, and Shuichi shakes his head with a laugh.
“Nooo! I’m serious! I can beat you without flattering you!”
Tenko scoffs lightly, and Shuichi shoves him to lay across the couch. The gecko’s claws scratch gently at his stomach, right where Tenko’s shirt rode up, and Tenko screeches and tries to scramble away.
“Stop! ‘Ichi— No!” Tenko yelps, and all he gets is a laugh in return before they’re wrestling on the floor.
The boys tussle for a while, rolling across the carpet and snarling playfully. Shuichi whips his tail playfully against Tenko, hissing and biting down on him whenever he thinks he’s close to winning. Tenko knows it’s part of Shuichi’s instincts, and he thinks it’s fun, so of course he doesn’t mind.
The scuffle is short and sweet. It ends with Shuichi on the floor, tail flicking back and forth as he pants. Tenko flops down beside him, their pinkies locking together in a truce. Tenko’s breaths are slightly wheezy, throat— and by extension, voice —raspy like how it always gets when he’s riled up. With even a slight hint of anger or adrenaline, his throat itches, voice getting scratchy, similar to how he thinks Shigaraki had sounded. He remembers this sensation, except as a constant. Thinking of it makes Tenko’s chest burn with discomfort.
“You really are—” Shuichi pants, “—so nice. You’re so cool.” The gecko turns his head, hot air huffing against Tenko’s cheekbone in a fast, steady rhythm.
“You’re the cool one! You can whip people with your tail! I don’t have a tail... I really, really want one.” Tenko rambles, childish.
Shuichi giggles manically at Tenko, high off of adrenaline. His fingers slide a little closer to Tenko’s gloved hand. He likes physical contact, especially since he’d been deprived of it outside of his family for a long time.
“Sometimes it feels like you’ve known me before, with how well you understand me. Or maybe we were just meant to meet. It sounds silly, I know.”
Tenko’s stomach drops. Just a little. He swallows, mouth suddenly dryer than a desert. His fingers twitch, instinctively trying to lock around Shuichi’s hand.
“I feel it, too,” Tenko rasps, memories that aren’t quite his flashing behind his eyelids, “It’s not silly. You don’t say silly things. You’re the smartest in our class, remember?”
Shuichi grimaces. He gets the best grades out of their entire school, let alone their grade level. Still, Tenko knows people give him crap. They try to find any ounce of proof they can that Shuichi cheats, trying their damndest to get him kicked out of the school. They both watched their classmates grow so cruel, but Tenko is glad that if it must happen, they watched it together. He hates imagining Shuichi alone.
“...Yeah. There’s just something about you. It feels… safe. Even when we first met, you were safe. Maybe we were made to be best friends.”
Tenko grins, still slightly winded. He turns and sees Shuichi’s tired grin, his red eyes dilated completely in the dark living room. Tiny pinpricks of light glisten in the sea of black, almost like a portal into space. Tenko’s mood sours just a bit. He frowns, and Shuichi pouts back.
All For One might take this away from him. At any moment, the man could find a way into Tenko’s perfect, humble life, and take everything away. Tenko shivers at the thought. Red eyes bore into him, and he thinks, if he had to save only one glimpse of time from All For One’s wrath, he would save this one.
He isn’t sure why that settled in now of all times, but it did. Maybe his mind thought he was getting too comfortable.
Shuichi turns the television off when they eventually get up from the floor. Tenko shuffles to his room— separate from Izuku’s nursery now —to fix his bed up for them to finally sleep. He and Shuichi both hate the idea of the other sleeping on the floor, and they’d both admitted at one point that they’re scared of the dark. So, instead of picking who has which spot every sleepover, Tenko decided that they can both sleep in his bed. It’s certainly big enough. They usually sleep on opposite ends, Shuichi’s pillow against the footboard, so that they have more room to move while asleep.
The gecko pads into the room once Tenko begins wiggling under the covers. Shuichi giggles at his friend, reaching over to ruffle his hair before he slinks to his own end. The door is open just a crack, as one of their sleepover rules, but neither boy minds it. They’re safe so long as they have each other.
Shuichi’s tail wraps around Tenko’s lower calf, almost at his ankle. Soft snores quickly permeate the air surrounding the bed, and that’s how Tenko knows his friend is already asleep. It always takes him longer than the heteromorph to sleep, but tonight takes extra long. His mind keeps coming back to All For One. To his own drawn out, jumbled plan to save his friends. With every step he takes, it feels like something gets more complicated. His tiny child brain is working overtime to think of ways he could find everyone and keep them out of the way of All For One’s steel grip.
Maybe it’s the mental exhaustion that makes his heavy eyes sink closed, or maybe it’s the little sleep-fueled twitches in the tip of Shuichi’s tail. Either way, Tenko drifts off eventually. The itch in his throat is still prominent, most likely because he started thinking of All For One. Just imagining his voice makes Tenko angry.
Tenko makes a promise to himself that everyone will still be alive in the morning. It’s the only way he can go to sleep sometimes.