Archive of Our Own

Around the same time that quirks had begun cropping up and becoming a normal and established part of society, so had the existence of Names. That was, people began finding the names of their soulmate printed on their skin. These generally appeared around the time a person hit puberty, though it wasn’t unusual for them to pop up during post-adolescence or even later. Many professionals tried to observe whether there was any specific connection between the two phenomena, but no definite distinction could be made. So the romantics of the world were let loose while scientists went back to trying to figure out how to deal with superpowered toddlers.

When he reached high school and was still unable to find any distinguishing marks on his body, Toshinori Yagi resigned himself to the fact that he likely wasn’t going to get one. Just as he was apparently destined to go without a quirk, he must also be destined to go without a soulmate. And unlike with his quirk, there was no hero like Nana to come and change that destiny by offering him the chance to receive a soulmate.

He didn’t think much of it though - or at least he tried not to. It was more convenient after all. His goal to be the Symbol of Peace would be unhindered by any guilt that he might be letting down an unknown predestined lover by not seeking them out. Besides, he was hardly the first person to live his life without receiving a mark and most people who went without one were happy to go without. But the longer he lived as All Might, his face plastered across Japan and its merchandise, the more he realized just how truly lonely things were at the top.

He tried seeking someone out, despite being Nameless - it wasn’t unheard of and many people still went their whole lives, dating and getting married, without finding their soulmate. So he tried with Sir Nighteye, someone who he felt close with, but ultimately their ideologies had clashed and neither their professional nor personal relationship could be maintained. How ironic it was that when he suffered a near death at the hands of All for One, losing a lung, a stomach, and a very good friend in the process, that his Name should suddenly appear.

It had been almost comical. Toshinori had been recovering from a recent round of surgeries, trying to work himself back up to the point that he could tap into his muscle form again. Sitting on his bed, he’d struggled to change his shirt without pulling his stitches, while Gran Torino had sat in a chair nearby, watching carefully.

At a grunt from his old teacher, Toshinori had raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked.

Torino had shrugged. “Nothing. Just didn’t remember you having that.”

Toshinori was confused for a moment when Torino pointed at his torso, and he’d looked down and seen nothing but his own wound. But a second later, he noticed it: there was something printed on his left breast, just over his heart. His jaw nearly dropped, and he had to hold back a bewildered laugh as he took a nearby hand mirror and used it to help him read the name. It took a moment, dealing with the reflected writing, but he managed to make it out.

“Inko,” he read. He shook his head and to Torino he said, “This is new.”

“Late bloomer, huh?” Torino took a sip of his coffee before saying, “Guess the universe isn’t quite done with you.”

Toshinori kept staring at the Name’s reflection, reading and re-reading the characters, amazed and dumbfounded that this should happen now of all times.

“Guess not.”

He almost immediately regretted the Name’s appearance. Before, he’d never looked or even wondered at the possibility of a soulmate. Why look for something that he had no reason to believe existed? But now that he had the Name, this small clue that something more was out there somewhere, he looked for her (as he believed it was a woman’s name) constantly.
Every time a woman with a low cut shirt or dress passed by, he would look to see if she bared his matching Name upon her chest. He knew he probably looked like a giant perv, staring at women’s chests, but he couldn’t help it. He’d had a taste of possibility and, unlike those who’d had their Names since childhood, he hadn’t had time to grow up and out of such romantic notions.

It was a futile attempt anyway - while things were starting to relax more nowadays, most people still covered their Names up, whether with clothings, hats, long hair, or whatever else it took. Thus, years went by without him seeing anything, or meeting anyone named Inko. He should have guessed: showing off a name was usually done by someone who was desperate to find their match or very loud about the fact they’d found theirs already.

As with most things, Aizawa was the private type, hence why he kept reaching up to press a hand to his exposed neck. The man was normally comfortable to hide his neck in his scarf, keeping his Name hidden. Having it bare, with the whole world, including the parents they were visiting, able to see ‘Hizashi’ printed on his neck must have felt like a huge invasion of privacy. As such, Toshinori did his best not to stare, privately thinking it made sense that both he and Yamada wore devices about their necks.

Hence also why he seemed fine to let Toshinori visit the Midoriya household alone - one less person for him to make an appearance in front of. So, with a thumbs up and a horribly fake air of cheerfulness, Toshinori sent him off. And it was certainly a good thing he had done so - Toshinori didn’t need any probing questions about why young Midoriya’s education meant so much to him.

As for young Midoriya, he and his mother were clearly cut from the same cloth, both being somewhat nervous and unassuming, only to utterly surprise him. Sitting there at this woman’s kitchen table as she essentially told him to go to hell, and knowing quite well that she had every right to do so, was quite the experience. Even though she was directly opposing him, the fact that she had guts enough to do it instead of offering blind hero worship earned her his immediate respect. The fact that she did it all while holding back tears only furthered it.
As such, he came very close to giving in, and it was only young Izuku’s speech, showing off the letter from the young boy he’d saved and proclaiming that he wanted to be a hero regardless, that stirred him to act. Toshinori wanted to be there for the young man that he had chosen to be his successor, and this time around, going forward, he wanted to do it right. He had to earn Ms. Midoriya’s consent in the matter, as he realized he probably should’ve gotten long before this point.

Kneeling before her, swearing his life to the raising and protection of her son, even if it meant his death, was a speech he thought was a long time coming. So for her to say, “Please live,”... How did he react to that.

He looked up at her, in the pale light coming through the living room windows. She was kneeling in front of him, voice gentler than ever, willing him to live.

It touched him. How could it not? And when she asked if he could please keep her posted on her son’s progress going forward, he was more than happy to go a step further by trading phone numbers and promising to meet with her in person whenever she wanted (or needed) to speak to him in a more personal manner.

“You have a good mother,” he told Izuku when they reached the sidewalk outside. It was an understatement. Calling her a “strong person” was an understatement as well. He didn’t know how to describe her and privately, he was still blown away by the interaction with her - the resemblance to Nana certainly didn’t help. And hours later, when the home visits were done and the car had dropped him off at his own little apartment, he still found himself thinking back to her and her speech.

“Please live properly,” she had said.

I’m trying, he thought as he walked inside and headed straight to the table he had littered with medicine bottles to deal out his evening doses. It’s just so hard these days.

By some act of fate, his phone buzzed then, and when he checked, the new message sent from ‘Unknown Number’ was from her.

I’m sorry, the text read. Today was a bit stressful for me, and I feel bad for crying in front of you. I appreciate your willingness to work with me and keep me in contact about Izuku. It’s really no wonder that he idolizes you. You really are a good person!

Oh boy. A good person. It wasn’t that compliments were foreign to him; he was used to being told on a daily basis how ‘amazing’ and ‘awesome’ he was. But that was him as a hero, in his safe muscular stature, smiling and saving people. For her to say that he was a good person, so sweet and simple and genuine… He decided then that he more than respected this woman - he liked her and was going to do his best for her.
Before he had a chance to reply, another text popped up.

You mentioned meeting in person - could we actually do that soon? I know you’re probably very busy, so it’s fine if it takes a bit, I’d just like to iron out some things in person if that’s alright.

He grinned at his phone as he sent back, Of course it’s ALL RIGHT!!!

Very funny, she replied, with a smiley emoji that had its tongue sticking out. They traded a date, time, and location, and Toshinori was feeling pretty good about this meeting. It would be nice to talk to her under less serious circumstances, and to have a chance to brag about how well Izuku was doing to someone who wouldn't nag him about remaining objective as a teacher. (Yeah, those people had a point, but he was proud of the kid, dammit.)

Then she sent another text.

By the way, since we’re trying to make this less formal, if you’d like to, you can call me by my first name - Inko!

It was a testament to his phone’s durability that the screen didn’t shatter when it hit the kitchen floor.

Inko.

Toshinori reached up and pressed a hand to his chest. Beneath the fabric of his shirt, printed on his skin, was the Name, and beneath that, his heart was now beating quite rapidly. He then moved his hand up to his forehead where sweat drops were rapidly forming.

“Shit."

He tried to stay objective about it. There was still a chance it wasn’t her. Certainly there were other Inkos in Japan, or other places - it couldn’t be that rare of a name. Hell, if he checked online he probably could have found a few hundred by now. The thought of doing so had crossed his mind, but it felt like an admission of sorts. Looking at people on the street was one thing, but actively seeking out people that fit the Name would have been confessing to his web browser and the world that he was looking for love. And for some reason that made him feel pathetic. So he’d let himself hope that he would just happen to come across the one who fit the order.

And lo and behold, someone had come. And it scared the crap out of him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want it to be her, he reasoned a week later when he was waiting for her at a small table in the cafe they’d agreed to meet at. Honestly, it would be lovely if it were her. But there were other factors to consider, with Izuku being a very big one. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think we might be soulmates! Also I gave your son a quirk that he doesn’t know how to use yet, which is why he constantly hurts himself, and he’s been set up on a path lined with countless dangerous obstacles, some of which I myself was unable to fight. Did I mention that one such obstacle came so close to killing me that it’s the reason why I look like an emaciated zombie who could die any second? Also I could die any second! Please love me.’

Oh yes. Now that would be romantic.

“Hello All Might!”

He jumped, startled by her arrival. As with their first meeting, she wore a sweater (dark blue) over a fully buttoned white shirt. That and a conservative skirt and stockings made it so that the only skin showing was from the wrists down and the neck up, leaving most everything to the imagination.

“Ah, hello!” He waved as he greeted her, trying to be as merry as he could, and vehemently reminded himself not to stare at her chest like a fucking creep. “How are you doing today, Ms. Midoriya?”

She sat across from him, waving a hand at his question. “I’m doing well thank you,” she said, much more cheerful than the last time they’d met. “But come on now, none of this Ms. or Mrs. Midoriya stuff. I told you already that I wanted you to call me Inko!”

At the sound of her name, he felt a heavy thumping in his chest and it took a lot of will not to reach up and press a hand to his chest. Oh my. How did people do this?

“All right, then,” he consented. “Inko!”

She smiled before glancing over the menu. “I usually get the green tea. What do you want?”

Now there was a good question.

With a shrug he said, “I’ll probably just get coffee. I can’t really eat much.”

Her smile turned into a sympathetic frown. “That’s right… Izuku told me a bit about your injuries. I had no idea how extensive they were. It must make life pretty hard.”

He let out a laugh that sounded a lot harsher than he’d meant it, before looking down at his hands and murmuring,“You have no idea.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” she replied with an awkward laugh of her own. After a pause she added, “You seem to be dealing with it well though.”

If she had informed him that he seemed to be growing a second head he would have been less confused. Him? Doing well? He let out another laugh, this one smaller, less bitter and more pained. He used a hand to gesture to his general skinny self and asked, “Are you sure about that?”

“Well, you are here aren’t you?” She gave him a gentle smile and a shrug. “That has to count for something.”

The awkward smile slipped from his face as he processed her words. The waiter showed up then, and as she turned to give their orders, he took in her profile, admiring the way the light played in her hair and eyes. It accentuated her softness, something that made her underlying strength even more potent in his eyes. After ordering she turned back to him, still smiling.

“You should give yourself more credit,” she said. “You’re doing your best.”

Thump.

The conversation was tentative for a bit after that, but he found he was able to relax with her. She was still worried about Izuku of course - asked several questions about how he’d done moving in, what sort of classes he had coming up, whether the other kids were doing well, because of course she cared about more than just her own kid, she was that kind of person.

“I just can’t help but worry about them,” she admitted as she looked down at the remnants of her tea. They’d been there for at least an hour, he thought, just talking. “I haven’t met them of course,” she clarified, “but I saw them on TV during the sports festival and you can just see how hard they’re all trying. They’re so young and have so much work ahead of them.”

He nodded, a smile tugging at his thin lips. “They’re good kids,” he agreed. “And they’re working their asses off right now. Trust me, they’re all going to be amazing, your son included.”

Inko smiled, the lines deepening slightly, her green eyes like bright jewels. “Thank you, All Might,” she said, and the sun had nothing on how her smile shone. He felt his chest warm up, and a smile seeped out in return.

He could get drunk on a feeling like this.

That night when he got out of the shower, water dripping from him in rivulets faster than he had time to pat them dry, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped to look. There was the Name, as clear as it had been for the past six or so years. And there was the injury. Today it was only slightly discolored, but on days of heavy activity it tended to turn an angry, swollen red. It was bizarre how close in proximity the two things were, both physically and chronologically. Even now, years later, he was still lost as to why his Name would wait so long to appear.

Guess the universe isn’t quite done with you.

Quite done having him around? Or quite done hurting him? The latter idea was a bit dramatic, he realized, but it was a fair question wasn’t it? His body wasn’t the only thing that seemed to always be in pain these days…

Toshinori pressed a hand to the Name and once more felt his heartbeat beneath it. He’d of course heard the myth that by touching your Name, you could feel what your soulmate was feeling at the time. He of course knew it was nonsense. But if he happened to lie in bed, hand pressed to the mark, imagining that the beating there was not his own heart but hers, who was it going to hurt?

From there, something resembling a routine started to appear between them. He would text her with updates about her son and the school in general, without going into enough specifics that keeping her informed might somehow turn her into a liability. In return she thanked him profusely and often checked up on him.

Have you eaten enough today? Inko would ask.

Yes I’m fine. he would reply.

Are you sure?

That. How could she tell he was lying through just a text message? Some sort of Mom Powers? That wasn’t fair.

I think I’ve had enough.

That doesn’t sound good. Why don’t you have one of your protein drinks?

Yes, Mother.

Haha, very funny. Really though, I’m sorry if I sound like I’m nagging, and if I you want I’ll stop. It’s just that, well, you’re seven feet tall and you seem to eat less than a mouse. How’s your body going to heal if you don’t give it the resources it needs?

You’re right of course. I guess there’s just some part of me that doesn’t feel like it’s worth the extra effort, you know?

The hero fights his greatest enemy: himself.

Cliched, isn’t it?

Just a bit! Hey, if you’d like, I have a suggestion to help you manage your eating habits: maybe a chart or something to help you keep track of your daily intake.

Hm. The hospital gave me something similar a while back. It was pretty rigid so I kind of stopped paying attention to it.

This one could be fitted to your preferences. It shouldn’t be too hard. I’m no expert, but I’ve taken nursing classes in the past, and being a mom I know a thing or two about getting people to eat, so I could help you if you’d like!

He left a very long pause between messages after that. He wasn’t quite used to having people know about his medical issues, and doing something this in-depth and personal...was he really ready for that? He spent long enough questioning it that he almost forgot that he needed to send her a reply, and when he checked his phone again, Inko had sent him several texts apologizing for being so forward.

I’m so sorry! I should have respected your boundaries! I’ll try to be better about not meddling in your affairs!

No, no, you’re fine! I just took a minute to think about it. I’d actually love it if you could give me some help.

After sending that, he sat there on his couch, working up his nerve, before sending:

If you want, I could send you my address and you could come over at your earliest convenience.

Toshinori shuttered as he hit send. Asking her over to his place was a little forward, he knew, especially if he was going to go through with asking her about...things. But it was about time he did something proactive about this situation. Feeling for imaginary heartbeats just wasn’t cutting it at this point.

His phone buzzed once more and ‘Inko’ popped up on the screen, with a message saying that she would love to come over, offering a possible time and day. He agreed and then looked around his apartment. It was cluttered and a little dirty, just screaming ‘Bachelor’s Pad,’ in a way that a nice home keeper like Inko would probably be horrified by.

He sighed as he looked at the place and imagined her being shocked by the state of his floors. “I need to clean.”

Despite his best efforts, when Inko came to visit he still noticed her glancing around and being disappointed by the state of things, though it was less judgemental and more...critical. As if she was trying to solve a difficult problem. She ignored that, however, in favor of opening the bag she’d brought and taking out a whiteboard, some markers, and a notepad. He brought out the dietary chart he’d been given and between the two of them they worked out a schedule that allowed for enough flexibility that he would be able to stick to it.

“So one or two snacks here and there should be able to even things out,” she said. “That way you get some solid foods without overloading your system.”

“Sounds good,” he said with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “Thank you. I really do appreciate your help.”

“No problem,” she assured him. “Honestly, being able to help out here and there feels nice. With Izuku moved out I’ve been kind of lonely.”

She put down her pen and rested her chin in her hand, staring off into space. “You know I was thinking the other day, and I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t taking care of someone. My parents died when we were still young, so I had to help my older sister to raise our younger sister until she was old enough to be on her own. Then I got married of course, and then there was Izuku. Honestly, since he was born, he’s been most of my world.”

He grunted an assent and pressed his lips together for a moment, trying to find a way to word his thoughts. “That’s quite a lot. Though, can I ask: didn’t your...didn’t Izuku’s father help out at all?"

Inko bit her lip and averted her gaze. “Izuku hasn’t mentioned him to you, has he?”

“Not once.”

“That’s typical.” She sighed. “He and his father have never been very close. Hisashi - that’s him - took a job overseas when Izuku was only a few years old. He used to visit but then-”

She visibly cut herself off, lips slightly parted, trying to find the right words. Toshinori adjusted his position, facing her directly, ready to act if need be. Finally, she managed to find her words once more. “Well,” she said, “we just sort of figured out that things work better with him there. So then we divorced. He sends part of his paycheck still, and we still message and call each other, but that’s about it. Hisashi hasn’t visited in years, and it’s been a long time since he and Izuku have spoken, so it’s really just been me raising Izuku myself.”

She turned to look at him and quickly added, “Not that I didn’t love raising him, you understand. It’s just that, well, every kid presents their own challenges.”

Toshinori nodded in agreement. “They certainly do. Hell knows the kids I teach keep coming up with them. Izuku’s no exception - kid’s so selfless it’s ridiculous.” He looked her in the eye, and in a moment of pure candor, said, “I’m starting to see where he gets it from too.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry but...during all of this caretaking and raising your son...did you ever have any time or anything for yourself?”

Inko looked surprised, almost as if it was the first time in quite a while (if not ever) that someone had asked her about herself. He watched as she considered his question, before breaking into a self-conscious smile and saying, “I guess not.” She laughed uncomfortably before adding, “No wonder you and I get along so well.”

He chuckled, and the odd tension he’d created was lessened a bit as they reflected on the conversation. With an absent minded hand, he scratched his chest, sensing the warmth that lied beneath his shirt.

“Inko?”

“Yes, All Might?”

“Ah. About my name. I wanted to say that…”

It was a bad idea. She had been married. Sure, getting married to someone who wasn’t your match was a frequent occurrence, hell there was about a fifty-fifty split between soulmates and non, but there was a chance he was wrong. And then again, there was a chance he was right, and she was his match, and all he had to do was just...

“You’ve been allowing me to use your given name for some time now,” he pointed out. “I must confess, I’ve felt a bit guilty for not extending you the same courtesy.”

“Oh!” A blush rose in her cheeks, and he couldn’t deny that the color looked adorable. “That’s not necessary,” she said, waving her hands. “If you don’t want to tell me-”

“But I do want to tell you,” he interjected. “I’ve wanted to tell you, but refrained because I was so used to keeping my name private. But after this evening..” he gestured to the table littered with notes, their empty mugs, and the room in general. “I think I feel safe enough to tell you that my name is Yagi Toshinori.”

Inko’s eyes widened at this admission, and he searched her expression for the shock of recognition or familiarity, wondering if the name she’d just heard could be one that she saw when she looked down at her chest.

Eyes still huge, Inko stammered, “O-okay. Toshinori then. Thank you for telling me!”

He felt his heart sink as he watched her get up to fetch the coffee pot for a second round. There had been no ‘A-ha!’ moment, no climactic realization in her eyes. Just nervousness, probably as a result of him suddenly springing such informality upon her. It figured that he would wait this long only to find himself disappointed. When she came back with the coffee, though, he did his best to smile at her, trying to give her ease just as much as he was trying to calm himself.

It made sense, after all. As he’d reasoned before, when he’d first learned her name, she wasn’t the only Inko. Hell, he couldn’t be faulted for making a mistake like that - he certainly wouldn’t be the first. Why just last week there was some sad story on one of those TV soaps (which he would rather die than admit to watching) where a girl got all excited because she’d found a guy that matched her Name, only for the two to find out their marks were in different locations. And come to think of it, those two had ended up dating anyway. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he and Inko didn’t match. Maybe he could still try…

But as he listened to her talk, and laugh, and admonish him for not keeping in better touch with his doctors, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest. It was silly really - here before him was a perfectly sweet, wonderful woman who seemed to enjoy spending time with him, and was single to boot. What right did he have to be hung up on a fickle, piece of shit thing like fate? Hadn’t fate screwed with him enough?

And yet, when she smiled at him, he couldn’t fight off the thought...

I wanted it to be you.

A few weeks later, Toshinori was dismissing the kids from their afternoon training, waving and calling goodbyes, watching as they gathered their stuff and chattered amongst each other. He noticed young Jirou helping Momo to do her post-workout stretches, the two giggling as they pushed one another, more playing than stretching. A lot of the other kids were messing around too, enjoying each other’s company.

Good kids,he thought as he turned to leave them to it.

“Uh, All Might?”

Over his shoulder, Toshinori saw young Midoriya rushing past his usual group of friends to come talk to him. Ochako and Iida both looked confused at the brushoff, but simply watched on as Izuku approached his mentor.

“S-sorry,” the boy stammered when he reached him. “But I was wondering if I could, uh. If I could talk to you?”

“Of course!” Toshinori put on his best All Might voice. “Happy to help! What’s on your mind?”

Red was rapidly rising in Izuku’s cheeks, and he struggled to look All Might in the eye. “Er. I was kind of hoping we could talk in private,” he mumbled. “It’s. It’s kind of personal.”

Oh boy. Oh dear.

“Okay!” Toshinori tried his best not to panic. What was this about? If he was this embarrassed about it, then it was almost definitely something romance or puberty-related. Dammit. He was good at general life advice, not embarrassing-teenager-problems advice. And honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was that good at the former!

He lead Izuku to a quiet bench outside, away from the gym where people might listen in. The sky had been clouded for most of the day, and the thickness of the air smelled of rain. He sat down heavily, tired after a long day of teaching, and gave his phone a quick check first.

Honestly, I think Han might be my favorite character. I guess I like the tall, scruffy, heroic despite himself type. Not to mention that he goes through a lot of character development throughout the trilogy.

Toshinori made a mental note to reply that no amount of character development could make Han better than Leia, his own favorite. Short, powerful, diplomatic - what could be better?

He pocketed his phone and turned back to Izuku, folding his hands and putting on his best ‘Mentor’ face. “What’s on your mind, my boy?”

Despite his nervous energy, Izuku laughed. “You sound like a dad when you talk like that.”

“Well what’s so wrong with that?” Toshinori argued. “I have like twenty kids at this point. Don’t I deserve to act the part?”

Izuku laughed again, and Toshinori was glad that the boy was able to relax a bit. Once he’d quieted, Izuku looked down at his hands, face filled with a few million different thoughts.

“All Might?” he asked. “Do you…? Do you have a soulmate?”

Oh shit.

“I have a Name, if that’s what your asking.” He scratched his chest with unease.

Izuku looked a little surprised. “Oh. Okay. For some reason...I don’t know, I guess I just never thought about you actually having one. It had been speculated online, but of course you never gave anyone a straight answer about it in interviews, and there were people who had theories about where it could be located based on different outfits you’ve worn in the past, and-”

Toshinori put up a hand to stop the mumbling. “Getting creepy, little fanboy.”

Izuku startled and his cheeks flushed once more. “Sorry, sorry,” he spluttered. “I just...sorry.”

Scratching his chest, Toshinori watched the kid as he floundered and started to suspect that something was up. He and young Midoriya had both been quirkless after all. Was it unreasonable to assume that there was something else the kid had gone his life without?

“You know,” he interrupted Izuku’s apologetic ramble. “I didn’t always have one.”

That got the kid’s attention. “Y-you didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Didn’t show up until a while ago. Right after that first big fight with All for One.”

Izuku looked appropriately shocked. “The one where you almost died!?”

“Yep!”

“Wow.”

The kid looked down at the ground again, lost in thought, his shyness changed to a complicated look of anxiety.

“How about you, kid?” Toshinori prodded. They’d come out here to talk and dammit, they were going to talk. “How are you doing in that part of the fate department?”

Izuku reached up to scratch his head, considering the question. “O-okay I guess. I mean, I didn’t have a Name for the longest time. Kaachan used to make fun of me for it when we were younger. Stuff like how it made sense that I would be quirkless AND loveless.”

Toshinori grunted. The more he learned about his protege’s childhood, the more depressing it was. Dad left, quirkless, and Nameless. Talk about sad.

“But you have one now?” he reasoned, and the boy gave him a vigorous nod.

“Yeah! It, uh, showed up the same day I got One for All, actually. You wanna talk about fate?!”

“Nice,” Toshinori exclaimed, happy for the kid despite his own issues with the matter. “What’s the problem then?”

“Well…” Izuku looked down again, a hand resting atop each of his thighs as he slowly said, “I actually don’t have one Name. I have two.”

OH. WELL THEN. That hadn’t been what he’d expected to hear at all. Toshinori felt guilty about it later, but he actually let his jaw drop, a bit of blood pouring out, thoroughly startling his young student.

“AAAAAA!” The kid yelled, jumping up, on the verge of tears. “I knew it! I knew there was something wrong! I tried to look online but most of the stuff I found said it was rare or impossible, and the positive stuff was mostly from other countries and I-"

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Toshinori grabbed him by the shoulders, and in a swift motion, sat him back down on the bench. “Slow down there kid! I never said anything about this was wrong!”

Izuku gasped through his sobs, wiping away tears, and Toshinori had to marvel at just how quickly this kid was able to break down.

“Listen,” he said. “It’s true that having multiple Names is kind of...unusual. I personally haven’t really heard of it happening. But!” He raised an index finger for emphasis. “I have heard of romantic relationships that consist of more than two people. Perfectly good and loving ones. Maybe they were matches, maybe they weren’t, but they were happy. And if fate’s decided to grant you with more than one person that you’re destined to spend your life with, I don’t see how that could be a bad thing. Sounds great to me!”

Sniffling, Izuku met his gaze. “Are you sure? I just…”

The boy paused, lost, and Toshinori did his best to get him back on track.

“What’s wrong? Is there something else? You can tell me kid. You’re covered in snot already, so it can’t get much worse.”

The kid let out a laugh more wry and ragged than anything Toshinori would have expected out of him. Wiping at his tears, Izuku leaned back and looked at the gathering clouds.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just. Well, you see, when I was younger my dad went overseas for his job…”

Was there an appropriate way to tell the kid that he knew this sad part of his history already?

“And then he met his soulmate. And he just sort of stayed there.”

….or maybe he didn’t know this part as well as he thought.

Izuku went on, “I mean, I guess I can’t fault him for wanting to be with his match. The guy, Brian, seems nice. He and my dad are working on raising his kids from a previous marriage, which is why my dad ended up staying over there. Guess he figured his soulmate’s kids were more important than…”

He didn’t have words to finish the sentence, and Toshinori didn’t blame him. To be put that low in priority...even if there was some sort of logic to it, that was still utterly unfair to the boy.

“After the divorce, my mom got kind of sad,” Izuku went on, voice still thick. “She told me it was for the best and that she’s happy for them, but...I don’t know. Like, logically, I know that it has less to do with soulmates and more to do with the type of person my dad is because he’s the one who left us. But. Well, I guess I just kind of started associating Names with that kind of thing.”

“Loss,” Toshinori clarified.

“Yeah.” The boy sighed, but now it seemed to be with a bit of relief, and Toshinori imagined a weight coming off him after finally having the chance to get these thoughts out in the open. “So then when I got mine...I wasn’t sure what to do. And the best and/or worst part is - I’m pretty sure I know who my matches are.”

Toshinori nodded. “Classmates, I’m guessing?”

Izuku looked up quickly. “How…?”

“No offense kid, but you don’t really have many friends outside of the ones you know from school. Not that it’s a big deal or anything,” he quickly added, “it just makes it easy to work out who it might be.”

The kid nodded before looking back down at his legs, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of his thighs. “I guess I’m worried because I don’t know things, like, if they’re matched with each other, or if they’ll get jealous, or what. I want to ask them, to tell them, but I don’t want to screw things up. I know that’s dumb since they probably have me too and we’re probably just dancing around each other like morons. But I mean. If you...you think it’s okay...like I can be with more than one person? And no one has to get left behind or hurt or anything?”

Toshinori shrugged. “It’s up to you kid.”

Just then, Momo and Jirou came out of the gym and walked past them under a shared umbrella. The two girls exchanged waves with them before continuing on, lost in their own world.

“Love can be complicated kid - trust me I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. I can’t guarantee that things will work out perfectly because there aren’t guarantees like that in this life...”

Izuku was still watching the girls walk away. He looked on as Jirou coyly tip-toed and placed a peck at the back of her girlfriend’s ear, right where her Name was. Momo turned red in an instant and laughed through shyness, before turning Jirou’s head so that she could do the same.

“But sometimes reward outweighs risk.”

At last, the sky gave way, and raindrops began to sprinkle the pavement. Both of them shuddered at the sudden moisture and got up to leave. “Give yourself a chance kid,” Toshinori said as they rose. “The fact that you’re worried about this stuff is what tells me that you’re going to do your best no matter what happens.”

Izuku gave a friendly smirk. “Plus Ultra?”

“Damn right.”

“DEKU!!” “MIDORIYA!!”

The two turned to see young Iida and Uraraka squashed next to one another under an umbrella, waving their friend over to them. At the sight, Izuku turned visibly pink. He looked back at his mentor and said, “Th-thanks All Might. I really needed that.” He started to go to his friends before pausing and looking back at his teacher.

“Uh...say All Might. What about your soulmate? Did you find them?”

Toshinori had to chuckle at the curious look on the boy’s face. He shook his head and said, “Some other time, kid.”

Izuku gave a respectful nod and thanked his mentor once more. The boy then turned and ran to his friends and squeezed next to them under the tiny shelter. Toshinori was pretty sure he saw the kid saying something along the lines of, “Hey, can we talk?”

“Hmm,” he hummed as watched them stumble away in their little huddle. “Yeah. Good kids.”

Meanwhile, he was getting soaked, and should probably do something about it. He dashed to the school, and as he made it to an entranceway, reached to pull out his phone and call a car to get him. That was when he saw Inko’s name pop up again.

Inko.

Hi Toshi! the text read. She had taken to calling him Toshi lately, and it was doing nothing to quell his rapid heart beats. Izuku was supposed to visit for dinner, but something came up. I’m taking the bus home from the grocery now, and I already bought all of this food, so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and share with me? I’m making a hot pot!

Toshinori thought again of what Izuku had told him, about his parents’ history, of his father finding his match and leaving his family behind in pursuit of it.

Oh, Inko. The background character of a romance; the jilted bride in the romcom whose story never gets explored beyond the fact that she isn’t right for the main character. Sure it wasn’t like she had fallen to pieces or anything, she still seemed pretty solid to him, albeit a bit weepy (though based on experience with her son, that might just be genetic). But there was still a distinct injustice about the situation and… Well, honestly, fuck everything about that.

As the sky poured and the wind swept through his paperlike skin, he considered her offer of going to her nice, comfy apartment, sharing a hot meal, and likely spending the evening together. Maybe she would have a kotatsu they could pull out, and if not they could always share a blanket. Maybe they could watch Star Wars and continue their debate of who the best character was.

It all sounded so perfect.

Thump.

He pressed a finger to his mark, and screwed his eyes shut before texting back, As long as I’m not imposing, I would absolutely love that! Is it okay if I come now? To which she replied with a smiley face, a thumbs up, and a heart.

So what if she didn’t have his Name and his was for a different Inko? Who fucking cared? Fuck fate. This was what he wanted. And he was so determined on that point that instead of going inside and calling a car, he actually started jogging in the direction of her apartment.

Here’s a cliche for you, he thought as droplets pelted him. Would be romantic protagonist running through the rain. This had seemed a lot easier in theory, but now his pinstriped shirt was soaked through and his tie was probably unsalvageable. At least the jacket would be fine! He’d left it at his desk. At last he neared the bus stop by her apartment, just in time for a bus to arrive and for her to hop off it, trying to reach cover as her grocery bags and her pink sweater rapidly soaked up the drops.

“Toshinori!” she called when she spotted him. His heart hammered against his ribs and he went to her.

“We need to talk!” His voice was loud but still almost drowned out by the rain.

“Okay,” she yelled back. “But can we wait ‘till we’re inside?”

“Ah! Good idea!”

She laughed and, taking his hand, pulled him along toward her apartment block.

“Honestly,” she was saying as they ascended the stairwell, “I was so shocked to see you. When I asked you to come over I didn’t mean that you had to come immediately!”

“Yeah,” he said, sheepish. “Guess I read the offer and got excited."

She shook her head, beaming at him, eyes crinkling with mirth.

“You’re such a goof,” she said as squeezed the hand she was still holding. He held hers firmly in return, adjusting the bag of groceries he had volunteered to take off her arms. She had insisted that she was perfectly capable of carrying them herself, and she was absolutely right, but he’d felt guilty following after her empty handed like some sort of lost, wet dog.

Her keys jingled in the lock and, once inside, she slid out of her shoes and into slippers like an expert while he was stuck wrestling with his dampened laces. Finally he gave up and yanked them off, before following after her with his grocery bag.

“Oh, go ahead and put that down,” she urged him. “We need to get you dried off. There’s some towels in the bathroom and some old men’s shirts in the wardrobe in my room. I’ll heat up some water for tea and get the hot pot ready to boil, okay?”

He nodded, unable to respond. She had pulled her wet sweater off and undid her hair tie. Her white button up fit her loosely, one collar flap sticking up while the other laid down, and damp green strands hung here and there about her face and across her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed from moving from the cold of outdoors to the apartment’s warmth and, while utterly disheveled, she also looked utterly adorable.

I’m gonna do it, he told himself as he left to fetch a towel and change his shirt, his heart beating a mile a minute. I have to. I might actually have a heart attack at this rate if I don’t.

After grabbing a towel for himself and stuffing an extra one under his arm for Inko, he went into what he guessed was her room. A little voice in the back of his brain took the opportunity to point out that she must really trust him if she was just casually inviting him to go into her room. It was a simplistic layout: bed, nightstand, dresser, wardrobe, etc. What struck him were the pictures lining the walls. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he couldn’t help but look around at all of the different framed faces. There were a few of Izuku of course, along with several pictures of what looked like the same pair of girls - one with dark hair and green eyes, the other with green hair and dark eyes. Likely the sisters he remembered her mentioning once. There were two family portraits: one with her, the sisters, and what must have been their parents - a pretty happy looking, green filled group. The other portrait was of a younger, slimmer version of Inko, a tiny squishy version of Izuku, and a man.

Hisashi. He was fairly plain looking, with freckles and curly brown hair being his sole distinguishing features. In the picture, Inko was seated in a chair with Izuku in her lap, while Hisashi stood behind them, hands resting tentatively on Inko’s shoulders. The guy looked nice enough, but was obviously trying too hard, his smile looking nowhere near as contented as his wife or son’s. He was only in one other picture - a wedding invitation taped to the corner of a mirror over the dresser. He was standing in a field, holding hands with some blond guy - Brian, he recalled from Izuku’s story, and the Name printed on Hisashi’s wrist that he was proudly showing off, while Brian showed off his own matching wrist as well as a dazzling smile.

Fucking Brian. What the fuck kind of a name was that anyway?

Toshinori opened up the wardrobe and glanced through it, but didn’t see any shirts that seemed to fit him. Not that he wanted to wear this guy’s old clothes anyway. He opted instead to swap his wet shirt out for a robe, before heading back to the kitchen. He walked in just in time to see Inko hopping on one foot to try and pull off her rain-soaked pantyhose, while also reading the back of an ingredients package. She managed to remove the hose, while almost hitting the floor, and merely tossed them in the direction of the laundry room while continuing to read the box.

“Now who’s a bad housekeeper?” He looked at her smugly as he walked over to hand her the spare towel he’d grabbed.

She scoffed at him as she took the towel to her head. “Still you! I’m at least going to get to that once I’m done with dinner. I won’t wait until I’m having guests over for an excuse to tidy up.”

Toshinori spluttered at her in mock defensiveness, earning him a laugh.

“I see you couldn’t find a shirt,” she observed. “Is the robe comfy?”

“Very,” he said, scratching his chest, as he had become accustomed to doing whenever he felt anxious.

She moved around the kitchen, getting out a cutting board to prepare the vegetables and meat for the hot pot. The teapot whistled, and he beat her to it, taking it off the burner and reaching for the cups that he knew the exact locations of by now.

“Izuku and I had an interesting conversation today,” he said as he poured.

“Really? What about?” Her back was to him, her voice light and distracted by the task ahead of her.

He took a deep breath. “A few things actually. The conversation started when he asked me for some advice involving soulmates.”

“Oh, really?” She sounded interested, almost excited as she scraped some vegetables into the pot, before continuing onto the next cluster. “I’ve been trying to talk to him about those sorts of things for a while now. I guess maybe talking to his mom might have felt embarrassing or something.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Likely so. Young boys can be...sensitive.”

“That’s certainly true,” she laughed. “Well, I’m glad he felt comfortable talking to you about it. Honestly, I think he really sees you as a father figure.”

Toshinori took a careful breath, trying to get his thoughts together before he spoke. “About that. Another thing we talked about was...the boy’s father.”

Inko’s shoulders visibly stiffened and her knife halted mid-chop.

“Oh.” It was a small sound, with no specific meaning, just something to get noise out.

Toshinori rushed to explain, “He came up as part of the conversation. Apparently, Izuku’s felt a little uncomfortable about the subject of Names and matching ever since his father...well..”

She looked over her shoulder then, pausing his words with a look, and asked, “Did Izuku tell you? About us?” There was no accusation in her voice, just a search for confirmation. And he gave it with a small nod.

At the nod, she shrank into herself, turning away from him again, and they were both quiet as she set her knife back down and brushed her hands on her skirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he watched her, wanting to reach out, but not wanting to offend her with his touch.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled, tone rote and practiced.

“No it’s not,” he argued, not in the mood to see her downplay her feelings. “You’re allowed to be upset. I would be.”

She made a small noise in response as she went back to preparing the hot pot. Once it was simmering on the stove, she brushed her hands off again and headed for the couch. Without seeking approval, he followed her. He sat next to her on the couch. She avoided eye contact, but shifted her body toward him, staying open.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he informed her. “It just didn’t feel right for me to know about it without your awareness.”

She gave a small nod, hands clasped in her lap, still not looking at him. Their teacups sat to the side, untouched.

“When we first got together,” she explained quietly, “neither Hisashi nor I had Names. He got his later, right before we got married. I asked him if it mattered to him, and he said no, that he loved me. And I believed him. I mean, why wouldn’t I? We’d been together for two years at that point without any issues. And my parents weren’t matched, but they were together from high school up until they died. So I didn’t think it really mattered.”

She pulled the damp towel from where it was sitting on her shoulders and wrung it in her hands. “And then he got his job overseas. And then he met his match. And everything was over after that.”

Outside, the rain was still splashing down in torrents, adding a heavy amount of white noise to contrast with the nearly silent apartment.

“You know,” she went on, “it might sound sad but I tried to...well to compromise with him. I told him he could be with his match and it would be fine, but I asked him if he would stay married to me. I didn’t think it was asking much - because I still thought he loved me. I thought that finding his soulmate just meant that he loved someone else as well as me. I didn’t realize that he didn't see it that way...that I had been replaced.” She shook her head slowly, as she thought back on it all. “He was so apologetic too. The way he spoke about it, about his choice...like it was all out of his hands. Like there was nothing he could do. Isn’t that so weird? I’m the one who got left behind, but somehow I’m also the bad guy for trying to keep my marriage together.”

Toshinori shook his head. “There’s nothing fair about any of it.”

“Nope,” she agreed, sniffing. “There’s not. Especially not for Izuku...my poor, sweet boy. I could have forgiven Hisashi if it weren’t for that. Leaving a spouse is one thing, but ditching your kid is in a whole other league.”

“You both deserve better,” he observed.

She turned to him with a tired smile. “Thanks,” she said, before looking at her hands again. “I hope Izuku finds someone good. Matches or no.”

“Actually,” Toshinori said, “that was part of our talk. It seems your son has not one soulmate, but two!”

That got her attention. “Two!?”

“Indeed!”

“Oh my! Well, I always knew he was loveable!”

That broke the tension and they laughed easily for a moment as he elaborated on the conversation he’d had with the kid. Inko nodded and smiled, and seemed happy with the outcome of the talk.

“I’m glad you discussed it with him that way,” she said as she got up to fetch their rapidly cooling teas. “Keeping it sort of objective I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I know soulmates are a big deal to most people, but I hate it when people act like they’re the ultimate decision makers in terms of love. If you ask me, there’s a lot more to it than just a tattooed name on your skin.”

That. That was what he was hoping to hear.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said as she handed him his cup. He took a quick sip, before setting it on the nearby table. He then reached for her hand, and she gave it to him easily, a little surprised but not at all perturbed by the contact.

“Is that so?” she asked, curious.

“Yes,” he said. “I mean, for a while there, the subject of Names was actually quite a big deal to me. But that was because I didn’t get mine until a few years ago. My life was at kind of a low point and well...I guess I kind of clung to it like some sort of hopeful promise.” He looked down at himself then and realized he hadn’t tied the robe tight enough, and his scar was partially exposed. Inko looked as well, but didn’t seem put off by the sight.

“I can’t blame you for wanting something to believe in after that,” said Inko, meeting his gaze with compassion. There was no flinch or fear from the sight of his wound, but instead a gentle of her hand. He could have kissed her right then, but he needed her to know everything first.

“Yeah,” he said, squeezing her hand in return. “I tried not to act hopeful, because I knew how slim my chances were of finding them but...well, I hoped anyway. Then one day, I was pretty sure I found them. Found her."

“Oh?” There was a slight edge to her tone. Not harsh, but wary, and how could he blame her?

“Yeah,” he said, and without another word, he undid the robe and slid it off his shoulders. She started to stammer, to ask why he was suddenly undressing in her living room, but her mouth went slack when she saw the Name printed on his skin.

“I thought it was you,” he told her, tracing a finger over the spot where his skin read ‘Inko.’ His voice was thick with emotion as he looked down at himself. “I really did. I wanted it to be you. But I was also afraid to tell you or to ask, because what if I was wrong? And even if I was right, what kind of person would I be to tell you that you were stuck with me? The guy who coughs blood and comes close to dying on a daily basis.”

“Toshi…” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off his chest.

“I know how pathetic that sounds. I mean I’m a grown man for fuck’s sake, and I’ve faced death head on many times. But I was really afraid. Until one day I figured - screw it, right? If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. So I told you my given name. And when you didn’t react the way I was hoping, I took that as a confirmation. I know I probably should’ve asked outright, but well, you might have noticed a pattern here.”

“Toshi,” she said, again, this time more frantic, looking in his eyes.

“I know I’m not your match,” he went on quickly, desperate to get everything out in the open. “But I honestly don’t care. If you would like...if you would want...maybe we could just decide that we’re soulmates. Because Inko, Name or no Name, I love you.”

She gasped, clamping her free hand on her mouth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He squeezed her hand tighter, and reached out to take her shoulder.

“I know it’s a lot all at once,” he said, struggling to keep it together. “And if you don’t feel the same, I understand. But I mean it. I love you. This thing on my chest might have been meant for some other Inko, but you’re the only one that’s ever going to matter to me.”

Now she was crying, eyes squeezed shut, gasping into her hand. He wasn’t sure what to do for her, so he chose to keep holding her hand and looking for some sign of response.

“Please don’t cry,” he urged her, feeling pretty emotional himself. “Please! I can’t tell if you’re happy or sad!”

“You…” she managed to choke out.

“Me?”

“You...are so...stupid!”

Oh.

Well then.

“I...I am?” He was unable to hide the hurt and confusion in his voice.

“I…” she coughed. “I’m so stupid!”

“Oh! Um. No you’re not. Don’t say that!”

“But it’s true!” She released his hand and hopped off the couch, pattering barefoot around the living room floor, having abandoned her slippers.

“I was afraid too,” she said, giving him a frantic look through her tears. “When you told me your name...you’d already known mine for months at that point! I figured that...I thought that you would have said something! So I didn’t say anything!”

As she spoke, his eyes started to grow wide, and he began to recall some of his conversation with Izuku.

...we’re probably just dancing around each other like morons…

“Inko,” he breathed as she moved closer to him now and began unbuttoning her shirt.

She undid it low enough that he could see most of her black bra, and the top of her soft curved stomach. Normally they both would have been beet red by the state of undress they were both in, but decorum and embarrassment seemed to have taken a hike. He watched as she, with shaking hands, pushed her shirt off her shoulder enough that he could plainly see the curve of her left breast.

There, on her skin, were characters that spelled out ‘Toshinori.’

His mouth was dry. His tongue was heavy. He couldn’t stop reading and re-reading her Name, his name, THE NAME that she bore over her heart.

“I got it a few years ago,” she said through her tears. “It just showed up one night. When I first saw it, I cried, because I couldn’t imagine trying to start over again with someone new. And then, when I thought it was you I was happy, but you hadn’t said anything and…I wanted you too!”

He shook his head, finally looking her in the eye. “We’re both really stupid,” he said, on the verge of tears himself.

She choked out a laugh and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his bare torso, and he pulled her into his lap.

“I meant it,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I love you. I really do. This Name thing is just a bonus.”

She nodded into his chest, before tilting her face up to smile at him. “I love you too, Toshinori,” she whispered, sending a shiver down his spine. He gripped her tighter, running a hand through her emerald hair, before moving to press his face to her cheek. He couldn’t stop touching her. He didn’t want to ever stop.

“Soulmates, huh?” she giggled, as he nuzzled against her neck.

“Guess so,” he mumbled into her skin. “Unless this is just some huge, stupid coincidence.”

“I think we’ve had enough stupid already,” she laughed as she pulled him up to look her in the eye. Still in his lap, she leaned away slightly to get a look at his mark again. She placed her hand over it, over his heart, sending waves of heat through his chest. He started to reach to do the same thing, but suddenly became a bit self conscious about touching her chest. She smiled, took his hand, and closed the gap, his long fingers reaching to her shoulder as his palm covered the mark.

“It’s you,” he said, still amazed. “It’s really you.”

“I guess we should have seen this coming,” she said. “We are raising a kid together after all.”

“Oh yeah,” Toshinori suddenly remembered. “How are we going to bring this up to him?”

Inko shrugged, too lost in her joy to worry about such things. “We’ll figure something out,” she assured him. “Let’s just get used to this for now.”

“All right!”

At the sound of his catch phrase, she shook her head, eyes bright, and moved her hands to either side of his face. He held her close to him as she brought his face down to meet hers.

On the stove, the hot pot was boiling. The tea was cooling. The rain was falling. And Yagi Toshinori was kissing Midoriya Inko. His soulmate. And his heart was pounding harder than ever before.

Time slowed and they were lost in each other. Nothing existed but the two of them and the couch they were on.

So naturally they didn’t notice the front door opening.

“Hey, Mom? I’m home! I know I said I wasn’t coming, but some stuff happened and I thought you might want to meet my aAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Toshinori was so shocked by Izuku’s arrival that he coughed blood - right on Inko’s face. It was then a mad dash for the two to cover themselves up, while the poor kid had fainted in the entryway, with Iida and Uraraka trying both to revive him and apologize for their sudden arrival.

“We’re terribly sorry to interrupt your intimate moment!” Iida yelled, gesturing frantically. “We simply wanted to visit and share our news, but that can wait!”

“Yeah, it can wait!” Uraraka agreed as she pressed a hand to Izuku’s face. “Have a nice evening!” The boy, under the effects of Uraraka’s quirk, floated up, and was easily dragged away by his companions, who raced out of the apartment, slamming the door behind them.

Inko smoothed her clothes out and dabbed one of the towels against her face to mop up the blood. With a sigh, she said, “Well that’s going to be an interesting conversation.”

“Yeah…”Toshinori wiped his face off with his own towel before scratching his head. “Should we go after them?”

“No, let’s just give them space for now,” she said. “If I know my kid, he’ll probably be back here the second he comes to, asking us questions about all of this.”

“Sounds about right...so what should we do in the meantime?”

Inko smiled and leaned back against the couch, opening her arms, and Toshinori readily sank into her embrace. With his head resting on her chest, he could hear her heartbeats keeping time with his own.

The universe was, indeed, not quite done with him. And for once, that was okay.