Chapter Text
It wasn't hard for Izuku to admit he's had a pretty shitty life. The earliest memories he'd been able to retain from his childhood took place once the abuse in his life began which means for the longest time all he knew was pain, physical, emotional, and mental. He did have a small handful of good memories from that time but every single one of them happened when he was completely alone; however, a very large majority of his memories consisted of the abuse itself. Outside of the small apartment he lived in for the first 12 years of his life, Izuku faced insults, slurs, unearned detentions, destroyed property, and physical abuse, often from his more sociopathic peers wanting to experiment with their quirks. As incredibly depressing as it is though, none of that compared to the abuse -or rather torture as Dabi insistently called it- his sperm donor -another term assigned to both their fathers by the rightfully bitter vigilante- inflicted upon him for around eight years. Despite having moved on it was still a time Izuku avoided thinking back on at all costs. The only things he allowed himself to think of between the ages of four and twelve were those few good memories and -if he saw an especially happy-looking mother and child- the times his mom protected him. Granted it was because she was squeamish and she only stepped in when she couldn't step away but that was the most anyone did for him at that time. She'd been an angel in his eyes and even though his love and admiration for her had since diminished, he still had a very, very small soft spot in his heart for the woman.
Luckily, Hisashi eventually got bored of him and dragged his mom to the United States, leaving Izuku without a word. That did mean he was thrust into the foster care system but nothing he ever faced in the many houses he'd been forced into held a candle to what his sperm donor put him through. At least it didn't until the incident -although technically what happened wasn't necessarily worse, just different- which acted as the catalyst for Izuku to run away. All that said, if you ignored the short homeless stint that had resulted from it, the only time Izuku's life wasn't unbearably shitty was when he'd taken fate into his own hands. With his entire life consisting of people beating into him that he couldn't rely on anyone else, logically he should have a well-earned distrust of all other people but Izuku had never been like that.
Ever since he was a comparatively careless three-year-old making plans with his best friend, yet another person who had betrayed him after his diagnosis, Izuku had been a dreamer. Back then his only dream was to be a hero and work side by side with "Kacchan" but it didn't take long for another dream to take hold of him, both the only things giving him hope and keeping him afloat in the storm life became. That dream was that Izuku would once again be loved which, again, is super depressing for a recently turned four-year-old to hope for but that’s not important.
With the pain, self-hatred, and loneliness that soon consumed him, that particular dream was ripped apart pretty quickly but Izuku still held onto those little shreds, hoping they would help him get through just one more day; and they did until eventually his unfounded resilience paid off and his dream came true. He'd met Dabi, a man who seemed so similar to Izuku and yet survived to his twenties, something Izuku hadn't been able to imagine before, and people like Osuke who knew about his diagnosis but still treated him like a person, not only a person but an equal.
Izuku may have been hurt a lot in his life but if he had let go of his seemingly desperate and futile hope then he would have rejected Dabi's offer all those months ago and he would have died beaten down, broken, and alone. It's that philosophy that had Izuku walking into a strange bathroom instead of out the front door. He has a sliver of hope that this home, this supposed family will at the very least be tolerable enough to endure a little less than two years so he can attend his dream high school. His hope isn't as black and white as it used to be though and his threats aren't empty so he isn't unprepared if the situation turns sour; but for now, he turns the water to its highest bearable setting to take the shower Aizawa had offered after their awkward conversation.
He'd been reluctant at first -the idea of being naked and thus defenseless in a new environment being extremely anxiety-inducing- but the instant he steps into the shower and the hot water rains down on him all his hesitance and built-up tension washes away. Izuku takes his time washing off the filth he'd acquired from being manhandled by a bunch of police officers and stuffed into a cell. The filth is mostly a feeling but the soap washes it away all the same. Once he's finished, which really didn't take that long as he'd been used to short showers for years -most recently because he and Dabi had to be careful with things like water and electricity to make sure they could pay their utility bills each month- Izuku dries off and changes into a clean set of clothes from the bag he'd brought with him into the bathroom. As he said, he's a dreamer but he's still cautious.
Unfortunately, his shower turned out to be a curse in disguise though because before he'd been operating on survival instincts and staying vigilant thanks to adrenaline alone but both were stripped from him, leaving him to crash as a result. The following dinner Yamada claimed to have whipped up, making some joke about not expecting company or else he would have done more as if it wasn't one of the best meals he's had in his life and definitely the best home-cooked meal he'd ever eaten, was full of Izuku struggling to stay alert. Personally, he thought he'd made a valiant effort of trying to hide his exhaustion but both men seemed to see right through his mask and notice his flagging so once Aizawa had thrown their dishes in the sink saying he'd wash them later, the couple had shown Izuku to his new room.
It was a bit odd having a room all to himself as, in foster homes, the only time he'd been given his own room was in families that genuinely believed that quirklessness was a disease that he would pass onto other people in the house if they were exposed to him for too long. That misconception really used to mess with his head but nowadays it just makes him question the intelligence of the people he shares a planet with. He never did and never would complain about getting his own space though, especially when he notices a lock on the inside of the door which he promptly clicks into place. It may not be foolproof but a locked door would give him an extra few seconds to prepare if someone attempted to break in. The lock also means he doesn't have to barricade the door which would have been a bit more difficult to explain away.
Clean, full, and as safe as he can be, Izuku drops his bright bag, the lifted weight feeling like a rock off his back rather than a bag of mostly clothes. Then, heavily thanking his tired mind for remembering, he sends a quick text to Dabi so he wouldn't worry before passing out with his phone and knife close by.
When Izuku wakes up hours later he can still hear movement in the apartment outside his door which made sense given how early he'd fallen asleep. He grabs his phone from under the pillow and checks its screen which is filled with messages from Dabi. He's undoubtedly demanding answers about what Izuku meant by a simple "false alarm" followed by hours of silence but Izuku really doesn't want to explain the insane situation he'd found himself in over text. However, he also doesn't want to have a conversation while the other occupants of the house are still awake -Dabi may not be a bad guy but he's still a criminal in the eyes of the law and Izuku doesn't want to compromise his safety- so he decides to wait and if that means Dabi is left to worry a bit longer then honestly it serves him right for how many times he'd disappeared for days on end without a word.
He doesn't care to face anyone again so to waste time Izuku slips out of the bed and snoops around. Unfortunately, every corner and every drawer in the room appears to be spotless which is better than coming across something weird or suspicious but it does nothing to keep the boredom at bay. The next hour of waiting solely consists of Izuku playing Tetris, a game which he's grown proficient in thanks to it being the only game his phone can support that he also enjoys.
He admittedly gets a bit lost in the game as he very suddenly notices the noise outside his door has diminished. Despite his score, Izuku closes his phone and heads towards the door. Thankfully the men's apartment seems pretty new so unlike the one he shared with Dabi the door opens without an echoing creak. Keeping in mind how Aizawa had somehow caught him before, Izuku creeps down the hall toward the front door.
He slips on his shoes but doesn't bother with his jacket as he doesn't plan on going far, just enough that there isn't a possibility of anyone eavesdropping. Without a time constraint, it isn't actually that hard to open the door and its five locks. He carefully latches the door behind himself and steps further down the hall which fortunately doesn't have many doors to avoid. Once he's sure there's no one around Izuku flips his phone back open and clicks the first name on his speed dial. The phone is barely able to ring before the call is picked up. "Izuku what the hell? You text me that then don't respond only to say you're fine and ignore me?"
"Honestly you had it coming but I'm still sorry for worrying you, there's just been a lot going on," Izuku says and leans against the wall for support. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't really given himself the time to process all the insane emotional swings and bomb drops that have happened in the last sixteen hours.
"Care to share with the class?" Dabi asks but his tone makes it obvious that it's not really a question.
Izuku sighs. "Well I went to the group home but no one was there so I found the nearest police station to turn myself in and they told me my family was looking for me. Obviously, I tried to leave which turned into a fight-"
"Cops being dicks?" The man guesses. He was not a big fan of any law enforcement, not that Izuku blamed him. They were the ones that ignored the not-so-subtle suffering of an entire family just because the man of the house was the number two hero and allow the same types of things to happen to countless other people as well.
Izuku huffs a humorless laugh. "Yeah. I don't remember much from then until I woke up in someone's living room. I tried to leave but I was caught by these two men, one of which is my half-brother who I never knew existed," he rants before forcing himself to take in a breath. "He seems alright though, they both do so I'm gonna stick around at least for now."
"If he was 'alright' then he wouldn't have left you alone with your damn donors," Dabi grits out, his anger very apparent even from... however far away he was. Izuku never got around to asking where exactly he'd been taken, it didn't seem like a very important question before.
"That's not his fault, Dabs. You of all people should know there isn't always an option to help," he defends but immediately regrets it when the line goes silent; so silent that Izuku might have thought the call dropped if not for the fact that he knows the reason. "Dabi, I'm sorry. I-" Izuku starts but is cut off by the door a few meters away swinging open and Aizawa quickly stepping out into the hall. The man turns near frantically and he is able to see the worried look on his face fall when he lays eyes on Izuku.
"You're here," he breathes out in surprise.
"Uh yeah?" Izuku answers awkwardly then into the phone he says, "I'll call you back, okay?" He hesitates for a moment but ultimately hangs up without a response. "What are you doing out here?"
"The door has a silent alarm," the man explains and Izuku internally face palms. The door had five locks and Izuku didn't even think that the obviously safety-conscious couple would have any more security measures put in place. "What are you doing out here?" Aizawa counters.
"I was calling someone," he says, showing off his old flip phone before slipping it into his pocket.
"I can see that. You know you could have done that from inside."
Izuku shrugs. "I didn't want to wake you though," he reasons which isn't technically a lie. He didn't want to wake either of the men but his only reason for that was because he didn't want anyone listening in to his conversation. Nothing sensitive or private came up but better safe than sorry.
"And yet here we are," Aizawa snarks tiredly then runs a hand down his face. "Sorry," he mumbles, "You can call them back if you want to, here or inside."
"No, it's fine; I was about to hang up anyway."
"If you're sure," Aizawa says and gestures toward the door, a silent question that Izuku answers with a nod.
The man pushes open the cracked door and reenters the apartment but with Yamada also standing in the entryway, halfway through putting on his shoes, Izuku waits just outside. The blonde looks up at them and similar to his husband, his expression shifts from worry to a mix of surprise and relief. "You found him."
"Not really," Aizawa admits and lazily pulls off his boots. "He had just stepped out."
"I didn't know about the alarm, I'm sorry for waking you," Izuku apologizes but Yamada smiles and waves him off.
"Oh don't worry about that little listener, we're the ones that didn't tell you about it. We can talk more about that in the morning though because I know you teenagers can run on little sleep but I need at least eight hours to look this good," the man says, making Aizawa roll his eyes.
"You need eight hours to function," he retorts.
"Well, at least I'm not gonna give myself kidney disease, you addict."
"Worth it," Aizawa says smugly and leaves down the hall.
Yamada sighs and looks down at Izuku as he steps into the apartment and closes the door behind him. "You don't have any coffee-drinking problems that I should know about, do you?" he asks with a playful smile.
Izuku shakes his head and answers honestly, "Uh no. Caffeine and I don't mix well."
"I feel that. Now it's been an eventful day so why don't we head back to bed? At least I'm going to; I know you slept earlier and I don't know what your usual sleep schedule is. Neither Shouta nor I will care when you go to bed as long as you can get through the day and don't make too much noise at night."
"Okay," Izuku agrees, the word having a confused lift to it. Even the homes that didn't care about him had strict curfews and set lights out; yet another thing that set these two apart from any official home he'd been in. "Goodnight?"
"Goodnight kid," Yamada returns with a kind smile. Without saying or doing anything else Izuku turns and leaves Yamada to relock the door, trying not to think about how that simple but genuine goodnight wish made him feel.
Honestly, Izuku had kind of assumed that the bombshell that had been dropped on him on Saturday would be the worst of it but he had been proven wrong over and over again on Sunday. From the lax house rules he'd been given to finding out that his guardians were both heroes -he felt like an idiot having not recognized Present Mic before knowing the man was a hero, especially because in hindsight his voice was a dead giveaway; meanwhile, Aizawa had deflected when Izuku had asked what his hero moniker was, claiming it wouldn't mean anything to him anyway. Izuku would've been offended at the notion that he wasn't well-read on heroes if the man had known him any better but as basically complete strangers Izuku acknowledged that, realistically he couldn't blame his half-brother- Then to top it all off he'd been told that he would be returning to UA because the two were not also heroes but teachers at the school he would soon be attending. The mass of information had left Izuku feeling a little overwhelmed but at least it had all been dropped on him before eleven in the morning, giving him the rest of the otherwise unnotable day to recompose himself.
All that led to early Monday morning with Izuku sitting in the backseat of Present Mic's vintage car as the hero drove through some back gate of his future high school. With nothing better to do Izuku stares out the window, his gaze occasionally falling to the phone sitting in his lap. Dabi hadn't messaged him at all the day before which Izuku understood, he crossed a line on Saturday night, but that didn't mean he liked the lack of contact. Given his uncertain situation, Izuku knew that Dabi would respond if he reached out for help but unless absolutely necessary he planned on giving his friend some space.
It doesn't take long for the car to pull into a parking lot and a spot soon after that so Izuku pulls himself out of his thoughts and follows the two men out of the vehicle. Despite the morning sun casting a long shadow of the massive main building, the school isn't nearly as intimidating as it had seemed during the entrance exam. For one Izuku had been riddled with anxiety that day, knowing that all his dreams were resting on his performance on a single test which was truer for him than it likely had been for any other participant; all the quirked kids could apply to any hero school they wanted, provided their situation otherwise allowed, but Izuku's only chance was UA. Up until he got his acceptance letter into his dream course, Izuku had been somewhat comforted by the fact that he could fall back on general education or support and prove himself during the sports festival but that was assuming he could get into either of those courses and do well enough in the festival to even be considered for a transfer.
The other reason why the school was less intimidating the second time around, aside from being slightly desensitized, was that the back of the campus was far less interesting than the front. After all, they weren't trying to make a statement to the staff members or upperclassmen, just to the public and prospective students.
Izuku trails behind the two men until they enter the building and Yamada turns to them. "I'm gonna go pick up those test packets from Nedzu then I'll meet you two in the lounge," he explains before heading down a different hall. With that Izuku is left alone in the hallway with his half-brother and despite no words having been exchanged before the silence between them feels nearly stifling. Rather than letting the awkward air affect him, Izuku tries to focus on placing the man's costume because the thin scarf-like support item draped on his shoulders had been taunting Izuku all morning with its vague familiarity. He gets so into thinking of and eliminating underground heroes in the city -because Aizawa was obviously underground if he was so confident Izuku wouldn't know him as a hero- that he almost misses them walk right past the teachers' lounge.
"Isn't that the lounge?" Izuku asks and gestures to the sign by the door, clearly labeling it as such.
"We're going to Recovery Girl first," he answers, leaving Izuku more confused than before.
"Why?"
The man raises an eyebrow in a way that silently asks, 'Are you dumb?'. Instead, he says, "You're injured."
Izuku bristles at that. He'd always hated being treated like he was fragile which had been a common issue for nearly his entire life. When he was really young, Izuku was more injury-prone than most kids but that was due to his klutziness and inability to know when to quit. Still, he wasn't treated like he was fragile, his preschool teachers would pick him up and put band-aids on his cuts but they did that with every kid that scraped their knees, Izuku wasn't an outlier. Then he'd turned four and suddenly every single injury he received was because of his frail, quirkless body. It didn't help that his injuries suddenly got more frequent and more severe. But it also didn't matter because whether it was a second-degree burn or a simple bruise, the teachers who didn't care about him would brush him off and blame his quirklessness while the ones that treated him like less like a person and more like a charity case would fret over him, admonishing him for thinking he was strong enough to play with the other kids, and force him to stand by their side for the remainder of recess, sometimes for days afterward.
No one ever acknowledged that, when left to his own devices, Izuku would get back up no matter what, tend to his own injuries, and comfort himself through it all, something that no other kid in his class had to do. No one cared that he was more independent than any other kid his age. No one cared that Izuku had to grow up so fast and miss so much of the childhood he should have had. Instead of voicing that though Izuku just clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. "It's a split lip," he gets out without spitting the words, "It'll heal in a few days and it won't kill me in the meantime."
"It's not just a split lip," Aizawa says which only serves to fuel the flames. His other injuries were minor or at least not visible. The logical side of his brain reasons that he's not used to concealing his injuries from people who care enough -or, in the case of living with two pro heroes, people who are observant enough- to discover them and yet it feels like a violation of his privacy.
"Fine, it's a split lip and some scrapes and bruises, they'll heal, and I won't die," he amends.
His half-brother sighs. "It's not only about how hurt you are, it's also about how you were hurt," he claims, and this time Izuku doesn't refute it; however, it's not due to a lack of desire or arguments, rather he wasn't exactly keen on admitting that almost all of his "wounds" were from before the incident at the police station because that would almost certainly lead to an explanation about his recent past of working in an illegal underground fighting ring, something he's pretty sure a hero wouldn't react well to.
The man glances down at him, looking almost nervous. "You didn't deserve what happened and you shouldn't have to carry around any unnecessary reminders. We have Recovery Girl on staff for a reason and the hero course is taking their written exams this week so she won't be busy."
Izuku studies the man for a minute but surprisingly doesn't sense anything disingenuous in his words. He crosses his arms over his chest but finally relents, "Fine." At least he'll be able to meet Recovery Girl.
And he does. Despite his reservations their visit to the healing hero wasn't terrible. He didn't ask any of the questions he'd gained about the heroine's quirk over the years but he did get to see it in action. Unfortunately, since his injuries were so minor he didn't feel much of a difference, just an odd tingle followed by an insignificant amount of his energy being sapped away. It wasn't even five minutes later when the woman sent them on their way and another few for them to approach the teachers' lounge again. A tension still lingered between himself and Aizawa so with the door in sight, Izuku speeds up a little. He doesn't wait for permission before opening the door and stepping into the room.
"Bomb kid!" Someone calls out not a second later. Despite the handful of teachers in the room, Izuku's eyes quickly find Yamada -his iconic hair now completing his costume- and the pro hero Midnight standing beside him in all of her R-rated glory.
"You know his name, Nemuri. Use it," Aizawa grumbles as he steps into the room behind Izuku and closes the door.
Izuku, though, can't completely hold back his laugh. "Does everyone just know me as 'bomb kid'?" He asks.
"No." - "Ehh..." - "Basically." Aizawa, Yamada, and Midnight respectively answer.
Aizawa glares at the woman for her answer but Izuku just smiles wider. "Cool."
The woman laughs loudly, making his half-brother roll his eyes before walking across the room, stopping next to Yamada and pulling the voice hero into a quiet conversation. "I like you," Midnight declares. "Did these two tell you who I am?" She asks and gestures between his new guardians.
Izuku shrugs and shakes his head. "I mean, I know you're Midnight but they didn't say anything."
"How rude," she huffs. "We've been friends since we went to UA together. I'm Kayama Nemuri but you can stick with Nemuri since I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other," the heroine says almost threateningly, not to him but to the couple beside her. He doesn't pay much attention to that, instead more focused on the fact that the Midnight told him to her her first name.
"Right! You can call me Izuku, then," he returns probably a little too loudly and definitely too eagerly.
Nemuri gives a nod in acknowledgment before a knowing smirk spreads across her face. "So Izuku," she purrs, "you said you recognized me. I hope it's only because you're a fan of my work."
"Partially," Izuku admits feeling his cheeks heat up slightly in embarrassment over talking about his feelings for Midnight to the heroine herself but he continues anyway. "I found out about you when you protested the Hero Public Safety Commission's laws on costume regulations for female heroes because it was sexist and dangerous toward people like you who need skin exposure to use their quirks. You didn't back down when you were criticized by the public and other heroes or when the commission threatened to take away your license. You didn't care that the world was against you and you never backed down; you made me feel like I could do it too," he finishes and takes a deep breath to make up for his breathless rambling. It's then that Izuku realizes just how quiet the room had become. The other teachers had left but even Aizawa, Yamada, and Nemuri were silently staring at him all with odd or concerned faces. I probably revealed a little more than I should have, Izuku realizes retrospectively.
Trying to change the subject or at least lighten the mood, he adds, "I also saw you beat the shit out of a child predator once; it was awesome."
Nemuri, at least, allows for the shift and smiles viciously. "I bet, I always make sure to give those types special treatment," she says, suggestively stroking the whip hanging from her hip.
"Don't you have a test to proctor?" Aizawa asks shortly.
The heroine groans and rolls her eyes. "You're such a buzz kill, Shouta," she complains. Still, she chirps a goodbye to Izuku, promising they'd talk again soon, and drags Aizawa out the door.
"I'm not proctoring any exams today but I do still have a homeroom so let's get you set up Little Listener," Present Mic says cheerfully and Izuku happily allows the man to lead him into a private meeting room off the lounge. Despite not being a big fan of tests, Izuku was excited for this one, his middle school final exam. Since he'd moved over two hours away from his previous school with less than two weeks left in the school year -meaning no other school would take him on- his guardians had pulled some strings to make things easier for everyone. Now instead of returning to his shitty school, Izuku would get to take his finals at UA, not only cutting down his commute time but also letting Izuku graduate early. Aizawa and Yamada, mostly Yamada, had assured him if it was too soon and he needed more time to study they could figure something else out but Izuku was confident. His grades may not reflect it because he had stopped putting his all into his classes years before but Izuku was smart. If he weren't born quirkless he probably would've been considered gifted, maybe even a prodigy but that hadn't been in the cards for him.
Izuku listens as the voice hero explains the test and the location of anything else he may need. He watches as the man leaves with an encouraging "You've got this!" which makes his heart beat oddly in his chest for a moment, then after releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he turns his attention to the thick test packet in front of him. All that was between him and the true beginning of his dream was this one test and a few weeks of vacation. And so Izuku cracks his knuckles, picks up a pencil, and locks in. He's got this.