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Midoriya Inko was not a fool. She was soft-hearted and overemotional (with a tendency toward stress-eating) but she was not a fool. The friendship with All Might - Yagi-san, she reminded herself - had been innocent for all of perhaps three days. Then she caught that flutter in her heart as something she said made him laugh, and the clenching of her chest when laughing made him cough, and she knew.
This was not an innocent friendship between adults. This was a flirtation at best, an emotional affair at worst, and a good wife would put the facts on the table before things went too far.
Instead, Inko invited him for lunch the next week.
Dating had never been high on All Might's list of priorities. Indeed, after... certain events, he'd told himself that a spouse and a family were things a Hero simply couldn't have. He'd been young enough then that he retained the fantasy of retirement and an autumn romance, but that dream too had been ended almost six years ago.
He didn't have much to offer a woman. Not now, not when he was deteriorating every day, when he woke up in pain twice a night, when he couldn't run at all or walk more than a few yards without catching his breath. When he ruined conversations by choking on blood.
The fact that he knew his time was limited was only the tip of the iceberg. How could All Might begin a relationship with anyone knowing he was unlikely to grow old with them? There were promises inherent in a courtship that All Might would not be able to keep.
He told himself he was all right with it. Partly because his health problems had killed most of his physical desires to begin with. His aspirations only ran as high as a day without too much pain. And partly because he didn't want to leave this world with regrets. His few friends would mourn him in their own ways, they knew the risks the same as he did. But to have a widow was to add too much suffering to the world.
It wasn't heroic.
His intentions, when he began spending time with Young Midoriya's admirable mother, were not truly innocent. If Young Midoriya was to be the kind of hero All Might knew he could be, he would need support. Midoriya Inko was only beginning to learn the real danger heroes faced, and to stand by her son while simultaneously fearing for his life was a heavy task. All Might could be a test case. Soften the blow somewhat by giving her an idea of what was coming.
Of course, most Heroes didn't end up like All Might. Most Heroes ended up dead.
And so he asked if she would show him where she bought her groceries. Who else but a single mother to know where to find the best deals?
After that rather awkward outing, during which All Might never quite managed to guide the topic to his Hero career, the next weekend he invited Midoriya-san for a walk along the beach. It was the only thing he could think of on the spur of the moment, and it wasn't until she agreed that he realized how it sounded.
He'd intended to clear the air, to make sure she knew he didn't want more than friendship, but she made a joke about the seagulls mistaking her son's hair for seaweed, and All Might found himself laughing. And when Midoriya-san invited him for lunch the weekend after, All Might couldn't remember all the very, very good reasons to refuse.
"Do you cook much at home?" Inko asked, as she and Yagi-san reached around each other to set the table.
"Not as much as I should." He'd told her he had diet restrictions thanks to his injury a few years ago, but his appearance made it seem more serious than he was letting on. Maybe Inko was being paranoid... but she didn't think so.
"I could say the same." Inko smiled wryly. "With Izuku gone it's hard to fill the day. I'm bored, and yet it seems like too much trouble to cook for only myself."
"I know what you mean," Yagi-san's tired shadowed eyes widened slightly.
"I've been thinking about getting a job. Just part time, but it would be nice to have something to do." And to begin to build a nest egg for the inevitable future.
"You should! Why not? I know working at the school helped to..." He trailed off, sinking into a chair as Inko served the food. Light, healthy, protein-rich and sugarless, as his shopping list had been.
"Do you have more free time now?"
He snorted, then apologized. "Sorry. That is... no, not really. I'd cut down on my Hero work for a long time before I began working there."
“Oh... Of course.” He'd been injured years ago, Izuku told her. Losing strength, losing time. She couldn't imagine how hard it was to know you could no longer do the thing most important to you. “It's good that you have that. Teaching.”
“Yes. It's been more challenging than I expected, but I wouldn't give it up now. Not for anything.”
“I'm glad.” Inko's fingers brushed his, long and thin, cold to the touch, and she saw the way he stilled for a moment before reaching for his drink. Yagi-san's eyes followed the movement of her hand, pulling it back, returning to her meal. He looked... cornered. Afraid.
Perhaps she had misread things.
“What does your husband think?” Yagi-san asked, and Inko had to mentally scroll back through their conversation.
“About me getting a job? I... haven't discussed it with him.” Her appetite had suddenly fled, and now she was the one reaching for a drink to cover her nerves.
There was a long pause before Yagi-san asked, “Is he the type of person who would be bothered by it?”
The answer was yes, but Inko said, “I doubt it. It would be more like a hobby anyway.”
“That's... good.” Yagi-san's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “It's funny, Midoriya-sho- your son, he's never mentioned his father. To be honest, I wasn't sure he was still around.”
“Oh.” So it had been an investigative question. “He works overseas. Izuku hasn't seen him in quite some time. Neither have I, for that matter.”
“I see.”
Yagi-san had waited, politely, for Inko to begin eating before he did. It was her home, after all, his only place at the table was as a guest. And yet she found herself wondering if there were other reasons. He couldn't eat very much in a sitting, he'd told her, and didn't have much appetite at the best of times. And as a Hero surely he'd been the victim of attempts on his life. Well, of course he had, everyone had seen it. Poison, maybe? Or-
"Midoriya-san."
She jerked her head up, startled out of her train of thought.
"You're worrying," Yagi-san smiled at her, though it didn't reach his eyes, and Inko felt her cheeks heat up.
"Is it that obvious?"
"You're very... expressive, Midoriya-san." Quickly, he added, "That's not a bad thing! It means you're an honest person."
"I suppose I'll take that as a compliment." He didn't pry, but Inko decided to fill him in anyway. "I was wondering if you'd ever been poisoned."
Yagi choked on something - saliva or blood? - and pressed a handkerchief to his mouth while he coughed. It was a few seconds before he managed to respond, and even then it was just, "What?"
"You said I looked worried. That's what I was worrying about."
"Well I can put your mind at ease. No, I've never been poisoned."
"Because no one ever tried, or because you've been careful?"
He pushed his spoon through Inko's homemade miso soup. "Both, perhaps? I never ate food a fan gave me unless they were a child. And even before," he gestured at his midsection, "this, I was able to have a private life."
"Really? You stand out. Your height, if nothing else."
"You'd be surprised what a big difference the hair and the smile make." He hesitated for a moment. "Young Midoriya's costume will serve that purpose well."
"He designed it, you know," Inko said.
"Yes. I assumed."
His voice was so dry that Inko couldn't help but laugh. "He's obvious too, isn't he?"
"That's not a bad thing!" Yagi-san's thin shoulders slumped as he relaxed. "He takes after you in a lot of ways, Midoriya-sho- I mean, Midoriya-san."
"Yes, I think so," she said. "We're both crybabies."
"Passionate," Yagi corrected.
"Passionate," she agreed with a smile. "That's you too, then."
The conversation lightened up after that. They ate and talked for nearly an hour, but very little was said.
As he left, Yagi-san said, “Thank you for the meal, Midoriya-san. And for... your time.”
“It was my pleasure. Please let me know if you'd like to meet up again some time.”
“I... I will.”
Inko half-expected not to hear from him again, unless it was to do with Izuku, but a few days later he called and invited her for another walk. Whatever was happening here, it was going to continue to happen.
All Might was making a fool of himself, he was sure. If anyone outside the pair of them knew he was spending so much time with a married woman – and mother of a student he took a personal interest in – they would accuse him of homewrecking. Some more seriously than others.
But for the first time in far too long, All Might was doing something purely for the fact that it made him happy.
Usually he was the one to propose an outing (he refused to even think of them as “dates”). They would walk, or get coffee, or once he asked her to help him choose a new tie. Small things, nothing that took too long, or at least wasn't intended to. Somehow they always ended up talking for much longer.
In the chaos of the world, after watching his students risk their lives more than once, it was nice to spend some time with someone whose life was stable. Who expected nothing of him, wanted nothing but his time.
One day, after several weeks of meetings, Midoriya-san called him. This was rare. Both for the call itself, and for her to be the one asking to do something.
“It's a bit embarrassing,” she said. “And if you're not up for physical activity today that's perfectly all right and there's no shame in it.”
“But?” All Might prodded.
“But I need you to come and be tall,” Midoriya-san said, sheepishly.
He laughed out loud. “I can do that.”
The problem was new light fixtures, as it turned out. Midoriya-san was perfectly capable of installing them, All Might never doubted that, but they were too large for her quirk to affect and her stepladder wasn't big enough to make up the difference.
“I got one old one down,” she said while All Might looked over the instructions. “I only had to get the screws out and detach a few things. But I didn't think, well... And now I don't have light.”
It was true, it was late afternoon and the natural light through the windows was already starting to fade.
“You can hold the flashlight for me,” All Might said with determination. “And this.” He passed her the instructions, clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Let's get started.”
There were worse ways to spend an hour or two. It was true All Might's arms began to get sore from holding them above his head for so long. And the flashlight helped but he still couldn't quite see all the wires and mounts. And he dropped so many screws that he had to start holding them between his teeth. But it felt good, for some reason.
Maybe because he was helping someone. Maybe because he was helping Midoriya-san. Maybe because it appealed to the caveman part of him that wanted to be handy and fix things around the house. Whatever the reason, All Might felt as at peace as he could be after they finished the first fixture and took a break before the second.
“Works like a charm,” Midoriya-san said, flipping the switch. “We'll have to leave it off while doing the other one, though. I can't imagine the headlines if I electrocuted All Might in my living room.”
All Might chuckled. “I can think of worse ways to go.”
A random household accident might even be... easier. It was tragic, certainly, but it could happen to anyone. There were definitely far worse ways.
Midoriya-san gave him an odd look as she handed him a cup of tea. Something must be showing on his face, because he knew that expression.
“You're worrying.”
“I'm sorry,” she said.
It was foolish, beyond foolish, but All Might said, “I don't mind.”
“What?” Midoriya-san's smile was so warm, so gentle. Like a freshly-laundered blanket, or a cup of tea. She was drinking from an All Might mug, one of the many All Might himself had seen in the kitchen.
“You. Worrying about me.” He pressed the rim of his cup, plain blue, against his chin. “Though I feel bad for causing it.”
“You've got no reason to feel bad, Yagi-san. I appreciate your help. I appreciate... you.”
It was what he wanted to hear, and yet...
There was a sound, like a metallic creak, above him. All Might was on his feet, bulking up and throwing himself between Midoriya-san and the source of the sound. It only lasted a second now, but a second might be the difference between death and mere injury. For that one second he could wrap himself around Midoriya-san and know that he could keep her safe.
Something heavy, metal and glass, crashed to the floor.
And then the second ended, and he found himself leaning on her shoulders for support. He couldn't stop the coughing from wracking his body, though he pressed his hand firmly to his mouth to prevent blood or saliva from flying loose. The creaking had stopped, there were no more crashes, though he could hear something like metal clinking on wood.
“Y- Yagi-san, it's okay.” Midoriya-san's small hand patted his back. “Thank you.”
“My apologies,” All Might managed to wheeze. He stepped away, out of her space and her warmth, and looked behind him.
The lamp. The old one that hadn't yet been removed, though clearly Midoriya-san had begun to remove the screws. Especially when she said, “I'm so sorry, I had no idea it would- And it nearly fell right on your head!”
“It's fine,” he said, dragging a hand across his face. He had the vague notion of drinking his tea to clear his throat, which was when the pain from his other hand finally sunk in. “Ah.”
Where once had been a blue ceramic mug was now a fistful of shards. He forced open his fingers and they fell to the ground, joining the shattered glass of the lamp. Luckily none of the pieces had been small enough to get stuck in his skin, though there were several shallow cuts in his palm.
“I'm sorry, Midori-”
“Oh no, your hand!”
Midoriya-san was gone, moving with the instinctive speed of a mother, and back in an instant with a first aid kit in a pink plastic sewing basket. She moved him into the kitchen, sat him on a chair and her basket on the table, and set to work.
“This is all my fault,” she said, dabbing disinfectant on a cotton ball. “If I'd finished taking that darn thing down. Or if I'd just moved.” She sighed. “Here, let me see.”
“You can't blame yourself, Midoriya-san.”
“Of course I can when it's my fault!” She took his hand, her touch as gentle and warm as her smile. All Might had always had large hands, but next to hers his thin fingers looked like spider legs. “Oh,” she sighed again, disappointed.
Once it was cleaned to her satisfaction, with barely a twinge of pain, Midoriya-san bandaged his hand better than some nurses had done over the years, and All Might flexed his fingers.
“Very professional,” he said.
A quick twitch of her lips in acknowledgment. “Boys.”
“I understand.”
He didn't make any move to get up, and neither did she attempt to move away.
“I knew I shouldn't have asked for your help today,” Midoriya-san said softly. “This was... too much.”
“I wanted to. I'm happy to.”
“And now I've hurt you.”
“You haven't hurt me, Midoriya-san. I've had worse than this.”
She smiled, sadly. “You're too sweet.”
Then she reached out and touched his cheek. All Might very nearly flinched away. Her fingertips were so warm they felt they they were burning his skin, but they sent tingles down his spine and all he could think was how badly he wanted to-
To-
He closed his eyes, turned his head, and kissed her palm.
Midoriya-san didn't pull away. She didn't react at all. When All Might looked at her he saw only... sadness. Defeat.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
“Yagi-san-”
“Don't.” He pushed back his chair and stood, feet unsteady as he left the room. He heard her following him but didn’t look back . The lamp was still lying in the middle of the floor, shards of glass, drops of his blood. The other lamp, the new one, was waiting for All Might to mount it on the ceiling.
He couldn't even do that for her now.
“Yagi-san, please wait.”
“Midoriya-san-”
“Inko,” she said. All Might froze mid-step.
He turned, and saw her wide clear eyes full of determination. He'd had people stare at him like that before. It usually ended in a fight.
“Call me Inko.”
“I- I don't think-” All of a sudden his mouth was flooded with saliva, and he had to swallow before he continued. “I don't think... that would be appropriate, Midoriya-san.”
“Do you want to walk away? From this? From me?” She lowered her head so she was glaring up at him through her eyelashes. “Is that what a hero would do?”
All Might had absolutely no doubt in his heart where Young Midoriya had gotten his strength of character.
“What are you saying?”
“That I know how you feel. And it's not one-sided.”
Now his mouth was bone dry. “You're married,” he found himself saying, inanely.
Her eyes dropped to the floor, allowing All Might's heart to start beating once again. “I... know. I won't pretend I think this is right.”
“You knew? What you- what we were doing?”
“Yes.” Midoriya-san's voice was very soft. “I knew. But I kept seeing you anyway. Because it made me happy, because... I think it made you happy?”
“Yes,” All Might said, without hesitation. “But...”
“But,” she agreed. “It was never going to last, was it? It was never going to stay innocent.”
“I suppose it wasn't.” All Might felt like he was frozen to the floor. He should go, now, while there was still the illusion of choice. The option of making the right decision. “I can't ask you to leave him.”
Even with Midoriya-san staring at his feet, All Might could see the disappointment on her face. “I didn't expect you to.”
No, but she had hoped, clearly, and All Might had never felt like more of a villain. “I can't... provide for you. I can't promise to be around. I can't...”
He couldn't say it. Not to her.
“I'm not asking for more than you can give,” Midoriya-san said. “You're here now. That's more than my husband is.” She pressed her fingers against her temples. “I know that it's not- It's probably against your moral code, or something. I thought it was against mine. But he's been gone for so long, and he doesn't check in, he doesn't care. I've gotten used to it. I don't really expect anything from him any more. But I still... I want someone to care. About me, about Izuku. I want...”
“Mido- Inko-san.”
She looked up, hope blooming in her eyes.
He had to tell her.
He had to.
There were already so many secrets in his life, how could he add to them without sharing at least one with her? But she might hate him if she knew he'd given her son the ability to follow his dangerous dreams. And she might reject him if she knew he might not have more than five years to share with her.
All Might had given everything to his career. He'd been so selfless that he destroyed any chance he had of a normal life. Now even the Hero career was over, all All Might had was his knowledge to pass on.
He could... afford to be selfish. This once.
“Call me Toshinori,” he said.
Inko stepped forward, into his arms. She just barely reached the bottom of his chin, and that was with his slouch. He clung to her, her softness, her warmth, the dampness of the tears she was shedding on his shirt.
When All Might moved back she looked scared for a moment, but he tipped her head back, touching her chin as delicately as he was capable of. It had been so long since he handled something so precious.
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Inko breathed.
He bent, stopping for just a second to appreciate how she looked with her eyes closed and her mouth raised, before accepting the permission.
It had been so long. All Might had almost forgotten how it felt to be so close to someone, to hold them because you wanted to and not because they needed saving, to allow the sensitive parts of your body to come into contact, and...
The kiss was brief. Chaste. He wasn't pushing his luck.
“Toshinori,” Inko murmured, and the sound of it made his heart pound even harder. She smiled. Content. Maybe a twinkle of humor in the eyes that were still leaking tears. “It's funny, I still think of you as All Might.”
“That's okay,” he said. “So do I.”
She laughed, suddenly, in his face. And pressed her fingers to her mouth in embarrassment. “Oh! I'm sorry. That's not really funny.”
“No it's not,” All Might agreed. “I would like it if you called me by my name, though. I... like to hear you say it.”
Inko smiled again. This was somehow even warmer than her others. This was... hot. “Toshinori,” she said. The smile was almost a smirk as All Might bent to kiss her again. How could he resist after that?
He knew already, he was never going to be able to resist her at all.